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Legolas slid a narrow package next to his father’s plate as he sat at
the breakfast table. “For you,” he said with a smile.
“A thank you – for no particular reason.”
Thranduil unwrapped the gift – a book; an account of the Last
Alliance – carefully, and looked up. “Thank you. But why?”
“I told you – no particular reason. To say thank you.
Because even after mother died – especially
after mother died – you always had time for me. No matter how
busy you were.”
“Even when I was doing ‘king things’?” Thranduil asked with a
smile, using the term his son had adopted as an elfling for the
essential, time-consuming business of ruling the realm.
Legolas nodded. “Yes. Even then. If you said you
would do something for me – with me – you always did. It meant a
lot.”
Thranduil smiled reminiscently. He had tried hard to do all the
things a normal father would do with his child – swimming;
riding; picnics on a summer day – but it had been hard, especially
after his wife’s death. He and Legolas had both weathered that
tragedy, and it had only strengthened their love and dependence on one
another.
“I love you, Father,” Legolas added simply.
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