Summary : What happen if Legolas was hit by lightning, and then lost over a hundred years worth of memory? Chaos, of course!

Yep. I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack! The auditors are gone—finally!—but they keep calling me to ask stupid and silly questions which a five-year-old can answer. But that's an auditor for you. I was an auditor once myself, though I don't think I was as annoying as they are.

Anyway, forget about them. Let's have some fun! I'm more than ready to give Leggy and family lots and lots of angst. Are you all ready to take them? Then read and weep. Or laugh. Or smirked. Or whatever. Your choice.

Warning : Be prepared for…uh…Just be prepared. Okay?


It was still dawn. The sun was yet to make its appearance. Thick morning fog shrouded almost everything, giving the entire woodland realm an enchanting mysterious look.

Yawning and stretching, Legolas Thranduilion stumbled out of his chamber. He was not an early-riser by nature, but the growling hunger in his belly had effectively roused him awake. He knew he would not be able to continue sleeping unless he fed himself some food.

He had skipped dinner last night. Hence, the wild need for premature breakfast. Of course, the first meal of the day would not be served until everyone was fully awake, in about an hour or so. He couldn't wait that long. Or rather, his empty stomach couldn't wait that long.

So he silently took himself off, heading towards the kitchen. The chief cook and the help should already be up and about right now. Surely they could whip something up for him—something simple yet edible enough to stave off his hunger until a proper meal.

The shortest route to the kitchen was through the rear staircase that was normally used by the servants, ensconced in the farthest corner of the family wing. He walked quietly on slippered feet past the closed doors of the royal apartments. In front of his brother's room, he paused to listen.

No sound from within.

A smile grew on his lips as a plot of mischief actively brewed in his head. He thought it would be great fun to bang heavily on Keldarion's door and then flee. It would be even greater fun to see the livid expression on Keldarion's face, though. No sane male—human or elf—would be pleased to have his peaceful sleep disturbed by that awful racket. It was utterly childish but Legolas just couldn't help himself. Driving his brother mad was his most favorite pastime.

He was rising both fists and was about to give the door some vicious banging when his stomach gave a loud rumble. Grimacing, he regretfully lowered his arms and walked away, continuing on with his main intention.

"Fine, fine," he grumbled. "Food first. Annoy Kel later."

After a dozen steps, he found himself near the king's chamber. And this time, he heard some strange sounds coming from within. Someone was sighing and gasping. And then there was a grunt, followed by a low cry that was instantly muffled.

Thinking the worst, afraid that someone was threatening his father's life, Legolas moved without thinking. He broke into a run and rammed his shoulder against the door. The door opened with a crash.

Rushing in, Legolas was immediately greeted by a feminine shriek of surprise, accompanied by a very masculine string of curses. He skidded to a stop and gaped, struck dumb with disbelief.

"Uh… father? You are…uh…well?"

Giving his youngest son a ferocious glare, Thranduil jerked at the blanket to cover himself. His companion had already buried herself deeper under the mounds of sheets and pillows.

"Do I look unwell to you?" the king growled, his blue eyes flashing dangerously.

His face turning crimson, Legolas gulped and started blabbering like an idiot. "Gee, father…I…I'm sorry. I didn't know. I thought you were in trouble. I heard someone crying out and gasping as if having trouble breathing and…uh…well, it never occurred to me that…that…"


"Yes, father?"


"Oh, right. Of course. So silly of me. Really, I'm truly sorry. I hope I was not interrupting anything…"




Legolas needed no further reminder. He turned around and fled, pulling the door close behind him. Highly mortified yet equally amused, he made the effort to smother his bubbling laughter by biting the inside of his cheek and staring dazedly at the wall.

Well, I'll be…

He shook his head, totally bewildered.

Now who would have thought that father…? Ai, Elbereth. I can't believe I just saw that!

Legolas' mother had died giving birth to him. He knew his father would never stop loving her, knew that no other ladies could replace Marwana—Thranduil's one and only wife—in that special place of his heart. But Legolas was also aware that his father, despite thousands of years to his age, was still a virile, strong warrior.

He can't stay chaste for the rest of his life, can he? Just because I never saw him show any favors to any she-elves, doesn't mean he has no…err… sex life.

Good Lord. Even that word made him cringe.

"Don't even go there," Legolas told himself, blushing hotly like a ripe tomato.

He started to fidget, knowing that his father would come out to confront him soon enough. The hallway stayed quiet and empty. Surprisingly, no one else had heard that small commotion just now. And that caused Legolas to frown. Keldarion, whose room was only three doors down, was a light sleeper. Even the slightest sound could jerk him awake and urge him to go investigate.

Unless he was busy doing something else.

Really, I should have just banged on Kel's door earlier and save me this mortification, Legolas thought, I don't mind seeing my brother at it, but my father? Ai, Elbereth! Let the earth swallow me whole!

Thranduil finally emerged. To Legolas' relief, his father now wore a night robe, his feet covered by a pair of light slippers. To his great unease, however, his father was also wearing a scowl. A very fierce scowl.

"Why didn't you knock?" Thranduil hissed when he was face to face with his son.

"Knock?" Legolas hissed back. "I thought you were in trouble. So I rushed in to help you."

"I was not in trouble."

"Yes, I could clearly see that," Legolas replied with a snort. "Why didn't you lock the door?"

"I did lock the door. You crashed it open!"

"Oh, right. I did that, didn't I? Sorry about that," the prince sheepishly responded. "But, hey, how could I know you were not in trouble but were having a…a…'night of pleasure' instead? You should have put a 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the knob."

"Legolas," Thranduil warned, his eyes narrowing to a slit, "I refuse to be told what I should or shouldn't do in my own room, in my own house, in my own realm. When my door is locked, it is a sure sign that I don't want to be disturbed. Is that clear?"

Legolas couldn't help but quaked slightly with fear. His father didn't look the least bit amused. Seriously, Thranduil looked incredibly furious.

"Yes, father," the prince finally nodded, taking a nervous step back. "I'm sorry I crashed in like that and disturbed you and your lady."

"She's not my lady."

"Then who is she?"

"None of your business!" the king snapped. "Look, don't go blabbing to anyone about what happened just now. Not even Kel."

"Of course, not. Why would I?"

"Forget what you saw."

Legolas sighed. "Really, father. It's no big deal…"

"I mean it, Legolas," Thranduil harshly insisted, his hands fisted against his sides. "Forget what you saw."

With that, the elven king whirled around and stormed back into his chamber, slamming the door shut.

Legolas winced at the sound, and then sighed in relief when he realized he still stood there unscathed with not a drop of blood on his person. Other people might not be so lucky. Thranduil would have probably executed them on the spot.

"Whew. That was close."

Wiping bits of perspiration off his forehead, Legolas changed direction and walked back to his room. He didn't think he would be able to eat, not after stumbling upon such a scene. His stomach could wait after all. He just wasn't sure he could face his father across the dining table at breakfast. Or any other time afterwards, for that matter.

Puzzled, he wondered at his father's explosive reaction.

Why is he so blazing mad? No one was doing any crime.

He went stock still when it suddenly hit him.

Father is terribly embarrassed, that's why!

With a slight chuckle, Legolas resumed walking"Well, father, that makes two of us."

Like before, he paused in front of his brother's chamber. A cunning gleam filled his eyes, a full heartbeat before he raised his fists and gave the door some serious poundings.

Seconds later, a disheveled looking Keldarion flung opened the door and yelled, "Son of a warg! Who the bloody idiot…!"

But the guilty perpetrator was already long gone.


Legolas tried his very best to avoid his father that day, but it proved to be a lot harder than he thought.

As expected, they met at breakfast, where Legolas spent the entire time staring down at his plate. He didn't dare look up, let alone smile or grin at his father. Thranduil might think his own son was mocking him.

They met again in the common hall, where the preparation for a big party that evening was already underway. It was to celebrate the king's birthday. Even though he wasn't too keen with all the fuss, Thranduil still wanted to make sure that everything was precisely in order. He had important guests coming from every corner of Middle-earth, some had even arrived days ago, and everyone was anticipating on how grand the gala would turn out.

As the king was instructing the servants to bring down the frilly ribbons from the ceiling, saying aloud that the blasted things were only suitable for a child's birthday party, his younger son suddenly walked in with more frilly ribbons and trimmings over his arms.

Legolas halted at his father's glare. "What?"

"Was these your idea?" Thranduil waved at the trappings overhead.

It took Legolas some time to completely understand. "Oh, you mean the decoration? Don't you like them?"

"Are we celebrating an elfling's birthday or mine? Take them down." With a slight humph, the king turned and strode out of the hall.

Sighing, Legolas looked down at the bundle he carried. "Right. I guess not."

They stumbled upon each other several more times afterwards, with Thranduil giving his son gimlet stares as if daring him to tell anyone about what had transpired earlier that morning, and Legolas shying away as if expecting to get whacked over the head.

In the end, unable to stand the sheer awkwardness of the situation, Legolas decided to get out of his father's way. Besides, he truly needed some fresh air and to escape the mounting confusion. The palace was quickly getting crowded with arriving guests, as well as bustling servants who tried to get their job done even though the party was still hours away. He could no longer walk in the hallway without bumping into or rubbing shoulders with any one of them.

To his relief, the royal garden was deserted at this hour. It was approaching noon, and everyone else preferred to stay inside out of the sun. That suited Legolas perfectly, for he had the garden all to himself. Whistling happy tune, he headed straight for the tallest tree in the vicinity—an ancient but sturdy redwood. Some people even jokingly remarked that it was Legolas' 'brooding tree', which was his most favorite place to sulk and…well, brood.

But he didn't come here to sulk. Or brood. Far from it. He came here because he missed the tree so much. The last time he had used the tree as sanctuary was like, what? Eight, ten years ago? That had been too long, if they asked him.

How old exactly is father anyway? Legolas thought, as he deftly climbed. To his chagrin, he wasn't sure. In fact, he didn't even dare speculate his father's age, let alone ask. Not unless he had a death wish. The king was getting a lot more sensitive these days, not to mention the vile mood he already had following that bizarre encounter earlier today.

Never mind. I'll make Kel ask him.

That decided, Legolas settled himself on the highest branch, almost at the very top. He could see everything from up there—the entire garden, the palace roof, the winding stream nearby, the surrounding woods, the rolling hills in the distance, the blue of the sky. It was a magnificent sight indeed, one that he would never tire to take in.

"LEGOLAS! Legolas, where are you?"

Who is that calling me? Is it Kel?

Puzzled, Legolas squinted through the surrounding leaves. He saw that it was indeed Keldarion who was looking about for him. And then he remembered—he was supposed to entertain the male guests at luncheon with his brother!

Ai. What a boring task that would be.

Without answering, Legolas jerked back down his head and hid himself behind the tree trunk, praying that his brother would eventually leave. But Keldarion could be very persistent when he put his mind to it.

"I know you are around here somewhere, brat! Now show yourself!" Keldarion kept calling, his arms akimbo. Frowning with displeasure, he scanned the surrounding trees but saw no sign of Legolas, not even a trace of his younger brother's golden head.

Keldarion swore. He must find Legolas before the luncheon started. The king had other business to attend to, and it was up to the two princes of the realm to see to their guests' comfort. It was not really too hard a task, but Keldarion always hated social functions. All that mingling and visiting and empty chatting was definitely not his cup of tea.

Unfortunately, Legolas didn't seem to like them either.

"You have to help me here, Legolas. I can't attend those people all by myself," Keldarion cajoled, trying to sound desperate—which was exactly the case. "Come on, brat. Be useful for a change."

Sniggering, Legolas stayed hidden in the tree.

When his brother still refused to appear, Keldarion growled, "Fine! Be that way. But beware, little brother. You are going to pay for this total desertion, you hear me?"

Yes, I heard you loud and clear, big brother.

Amused, Legolas watched as Keldarion cursed and stormed back inside. Whistling, he resumed his seat, leaned his back against the tree and smiled at the sky. He thought it wouldn't hurt if he took a short nap. And so he did.

Loud rumbling thunder woke him up not long afterwards. He was surprised to discover that the weather had taken a drastic turn while he was asleep. The sky was now overcast. The sun had disappeared, and so the temperature was swiftly dropping. Bits of moisture were in the air, a sure start to a heavy deluge. Lightning and thunders cracked and boomed merrily like an angry symphony.

Legolas sighed regretfully. He knew his little excursion had just come to an end.


Thranduil straightened and pushed away from his desk.

There! That would be enough for today.

Satisfied with his work, the king closed the house ledger and stowed it inside a locker. He rose, thinking that it was time he got himself ready for his own birthday party. Striding across the study towards the door, he happened to glance at the opened window. What he saw caused him to halt and stare.

What the blazes…?

It was not the changing weather that actually caught his attention, but the sight of his youngest son climbing down a tree. The son whose supposed duty was to co-host the luncheon that still took place in the main dining hall.

Why the sneaky little…

Grumbling under his breath, definitely far from happy, Thranduil went to push open the balcony door. He was about to yell at his son when something incredibly bright flashed without warning, accompanied by a terrible rumbling roar. He instinctively ducked, but quickly looked up to check for Legolas.

The first thing Thranduil noticed was the redwood tree, now burning at the top. And then, to his horror, he saw his son, lying crumple in a heap on the ground. Not moving.


With a shout, Thranduil vaulted over the railing. He ran hard like never before towards the tree, screaming his son's name over and over.

"Oh, Legolas, Legolas…"

Sliding to a stop on his knees, Thranduil gathered Legolas' limp form into his arms and searched frantically for pulse. He grew panicked when he found none but instead saw the burnt soles at the bottom of his son's boots. Legolas' palms were also burnt, and there was a nasty-looking bump on his right temple.

"Please, Legolas. Don't leave us. Not yet." Praying that he was not too late, Thranduil settled his son across his lap and used all his knowledge to revive him.

Keldarion came running shortly after, pale and deeply terrified. "Father! I heard your cries. Is Legolas all right? What just happened?"

Thranduil slowly looked up. He had trouble speaking. "He…he got hit by lightning…"

"What? No…" Strickened, Keldarion dropped to his knees and checked his brother's vitals. "He still lives, thank the Valar."

"He was not breathing just now. He had no pulse and no heart beat. Somehow he managed to get them all back," Thranduil replied, unaware that tears were streaming down his face. He didn't mention that he had to thump Legolas' chest repeatedly, as hard as he could, to get his son's heart function once more.

Servants and guests began to pour into the garden to find out what was going on. They all surrounded the royal family, knowing without being told that something awful had just happened.

It had started drizzling, and lightning still cracked above their heads, but no one seemed to care…


Yes. I can hear the BIG issue you guys want to know: When is this story set? Before or after? Wanna take a guess?

Find out the answer in the next chapter!