Thranduil: the true story

To Wrap An Elven Princeling

5. Epilogue: The Forest


Epilogue: The Forest

The Elvenking's party made its way westward through the forest. Galion, newly returned from Esgaroth, rode beside his king. A few paces back, Tamin rode his own horse, and Tulie perched gingerly on Legolas's pony, which was being led by a Wood-elf groom. Legolas noticed that both the Edain were looking a little wide-eyed at the dark vistas of the wood. Séregon and Magorion were there too, along with twice the number of archers and spearmen that had accompanied the king's party when it had left Thranduil's palace a fortnight before.

Legolas shared the great bay charger with his father, seated to the front and held tightly in Thranduil's arms. The hated mithril coat was gone now, and Legolas wished the dragon joy of it. His ada's arms were all the armor he wanted or needed.

Legolas would have liked to have seen Dale before the Dragon burned it. He would have liked to have met Girion's youngest son as well, and he felt sadness for this young human boy who now had no father to look after him.

"Ada," he said. "When we get home, may I have a bow to practice with? Now that Tulie has given me the braids?"

He felt his father's arms tighten around him, and he felt Thranduil's chest heave with a sigh. "You are very young, Legolas, but I suppose it is time. Yes, you may have a bow."

"And knives?" He heard Galion cough and Magorion suppress what sounded like a laugh.

"Yes, my son. You may have knives, and my chief general will school you in their use. Will you not, Magorion?" said Thranduil. "Sharp knives."

Legolas smiled, as he saw the bridge come into view, with the vast stone gates of the palace beyond. Home was in sight, and all was well.

The End

* * * * * * *

Author's notes:

This story was written as a counter to the numerous tales of Thranduil being an abusive father and an unpleasant elf in general. I now realize that Thranduil hardly needs my defense, but the story stands.

In my opinion, this is a plausible way for Bilbo's mithril shirt to have gotten into the hoard of the dragon, Smaug. After reading The Unfinished Tales, I came to realize that Elven royal families were not exactly prevalent east of the Misty Mountains and that the mithril mail armor could well have belonged to someone we know. I had very seriously considered making the mithril armor a family heirloom belonging to Thranduil or even Oropher in childhood, yet in The Hobbit, Thorin says that the mithril coat was made by "his people." For the purposes of this story, I take it to mean it was fashioned by the dwarves of Erebor. It is a costly thing, and it symbolizes the love Thranduil has for his son.

This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.


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Story Information

Author: Jael

Status: Reviewed

Completion: Complete

Rating: General

Last Updated: 11/23/06

Original Post: 08/25/06

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