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One Title: Your Story

A Fairy Tale, Middle-Earth style

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Thoughts of a Father by Telcontar187


Rating: K+

Disclaimer: It all belongs to Tolkien.





I donīt know how long I have been sitting here, just holding your hand.

The silence in the healing room is deafening. With a bitter chuckle I realize how odd that thought is – deafening silence – and yet it is. I miss your voice, tithen Las. Your laughter. Oh, how much I miss your melodical laughter.

The moonlight shines on your lithe body, painting a silver shade on your hair, your face. If not for the thick bandages covering your chest and the glittering sweat on your face I could almost betray my mind, making myself think you are just sleeping.

Oh, how much I hate to see you injured and hurt, Legolas. You should know nothing about fighting, pain and death. You should not spend all your youth beeing on patrol, saving your home from the darkness which threatens to overwhelm our realm.

Oh, how much I wish I could spare you that all. But you are the prince, I am the king. How could I ask other fathers to let their sons risk their lifes for Mirkwood if I am not willing to do the same?

You are so young! When I remember my own cheerfull youth I feel guilty at you. So very guilty. I see only love, light and fun looking back when I was your age. What is your life like?

Oh, how much I wish things hadnīt changed so badly. Childhood was stripped away from you much too quick, when the shadow has fallen over Greenwood the Great.

What did I have to fear in my youth? A punishment from my father for playing a prank. The rejection from a girl. How ludicrous had this concerns been. Your fears are for the life of your fellows and your own.

What did I know about death? Well, once I lost my dear horse to a horde of bloodthirsty wolfs. That had pained me greatly, and still does when I think back to my faithful mare.

But whatīs that compared to have your best friend, who had been to you like a brother since childhood, dying in your arms, under your command. I know how much you blame yourself for his death, even it was in no way your fault, Ion-nin.

Which injuries did I suffer in my youth? A broken bone. A scratch. Nothing serious ,and all was in some way my own fault. Results of my own carelessness. For you, Ion-nin, carelessness would mean death. I know you are never careless when you are out there, but nevertheless you were brought home injured again. I have lost count of times I was sitting on your bed, holding your hand, stroking your golden hair, whispering comforting words. You always fought against all odds and recovered much more quickly than the healers had expected. You never hesitated to go back into the woods to save our people from the evil.

I am proud of you, Ion-nin, so proud!

I am worried for you, Ion-nin, so worried!

I am worried I might never see you again, everytime you leave the palace. And I am worried for your shining soul. There is so much despair in our lifes. How long can the light of your spirit fight back the darkness? How long will your laughter defy all the suffering around you. It would break my heart to lose your bright spirit.

Looking back at my youth there is so much light. When I see yours there is so much darkness.

Oh, my tithen Las, how much I wish I could give you the light!

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