Shadows

Mellow Soulmate AU.  The world is won and the Greenwood is blossoming, but shadows still linger in the hearts of some.  This story is vaguely connected with "Fire" and with "Divided" and all of its substituents.  Therefore, if you haven't read any of those, this story may not entirely make sense.  Also, if you haven't read The Lord of the Rings, this story may not make sense.  Legolas has sea-longing (Galadriel warns him about it in the book, and he obtains it when they sail from the ocean up the Anduin to Minas Tirith).  Takes place post-LotR in Mirkwood (Great Greenwood or Eryn Lasgalen).

Disclaimer: I own neither the Lord of the Rings or the Silmarillion

Pairings: Amrod x Thranduil

Characters: Thranduil, Amrod, Legolas (mentions Eru, Sauron, Yavanna and Ulmo)

Warning: rather AU but follows LotR canon, spontaneous children, implied m!preg, kissing and cuddling, depression, fading, sea-longing

Song: Into the West

Words: 1,104
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shadow (noun): partial darkness or obscurity within a part of space from which rays from a source of light are cut off by an interposed opaque body; a reflected image; shelter from danger or observation
http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/shadow

The darkness that had hovered over their blessed wood for so long was fading away, flushed aside under a roiling mass of foaming brilliance.  Green things were growing again, the toxic undercurrent that poisoned the land drawn from the earth's veins as if the Valar themselves sucked it from the gaping wound rent by dark magic and evil.  As the days waxed and waned, Thranduil's heart lightened, a massive weight lifted from his trembling shoulders.

For the Elvenking was as one being with his realm, and when the Greenwood was sickened so too was his heart, shadowed in dread, eating away at the corners of his mind where he could not find it, could not drive it away, his clawed fingers passing through something intangible and lurking as a noxious smoke.  But with the defeat and destruction of the Dark Lord, he felt the entire earth blooming in relief, the sunlight finally piercing through the thickly layered leaves overhead and heating the world beneath.

Flowers unfurled their greedy petals in the Greenwood, vibrant crimsons and violets.  How long it had been since Thranduil had brushed his fingers over the sweet flesh and smelled the honeyed nectar of a wild bloom!

No more shadows.  No more despair.  His people rejoiced with their king and their land.  For the first time in a great long while, Thranduil took to his rich drink with a grin and enjoyed the merrymaking of his folk.

And that night, when he met the flame-haired stranger in the wood, there was forgiveness glowing in his face.  Joyfully, he cupped familiar cheekbones and drank of his lover's taste.  Perhaps it was foolish, a fancy brought through intoxication and overwhelming passion, but he cared not that night, or any night afterwards.

"It has finally passed.  There is peace," he whispered with his forehead pressed to the other's brow, staring into eyes flecked a thousand shades of storm and viridian.

The other sighed, their breath mingling. "Let us pray it stays as such for a good many centuries." They had both been veiled in the shadows of war and evil, and both were tired of running away and of fighting tooth and nail to survive.

Now, they could finally rest.  Thranduil's heart beat fast and strong with life, with anticipation of what the next day might bring.  With renewed hope.

For nothing seemed wrong in the world.

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It was months later that his youngest child returned home.

But it was not the boy he had sent away on a simple mission to interrogate Elrond for information on the gathering darkness who was standing upon his doorstep.  No, this was an aged creature.  Shocked, his stomach sinking to the vicinity of his toes, Thranduil beheld tiny wrinkles at the corners of his child's eyes.  The smile that had once been as a breath of fresh air filling the lungs with delight and wonder in times of need was now thin and wane, stretched and utterly broken.

Even war did not do such things to the soul.  Certainly the death of a comrade would bring needles of sorrow to the heart, but nothing like this merciless despair that seemed to wrack the stranger in his son's boots.  It tore apart anything that Thranduil recognized.

Shadows had filled his son's eyes where once there had been only light.

Around them, the world began to recover, began to breathe again, but his son's soul faltered, its fire sputtering desperately without air, a flickering candle holding the tide of the night of the heart at bay.  And Thranduil did not know what to do, what he could say to ease such suffering.

He did not know what to do when his youngest child came to him and wept.  Did not know what to do when Legolas told him through soft, heaving cries that he would be leaving, that he would not be coming back, that he couldn't bear to stay beneath the boughs of the trees, connected as one with the land. No longer did the voices of Yavanna's beloved creations bring him the same awe and joy they once had.  No longer did they soothe.  Only torment did they bring.

For Ulmo had called him, and Legolas could hear nothing but the sea's raging chaos and the cry of gulls upon a distant wind.

Day after day, skin grew paler, taking on that gray tint that spoke only of lingering death, a wilting flower growing black around the edges, crumpling into disrepair.  And, though he long denied it, Thranduil knew he could do naught but let his little one go, watch a gray ship ferry him away to some distant place of everlasting beauty.

And they would never meet again, for Thranduil's heart did not yearn after the Undying Lands.  He was a sinda, born and raised amongst the wild growth and freedom of Beleriand, and he longed not for white-washed architecture and tamed fields of flowers and waving barley.

It was for the best that Legolas packed and bade the Greenwood farewell in the dead of the night, disappearing as a ghost whilst Thranduil was tucked sleeplessly away, tossing and turning in harried thought.  If the king had had to stand in ceremony and bid goodbye (Goodbye forever until the End of All Things) to the prince, he thought he might have collapsed into a pile of silken robes, finery and broken fears, weeping piteously before his people.

But it was not the people who beheld his tears that day, nor did they soothe the newfound darkness that filtered out the rising glory of the light.

It was strong arms that held him so safely and gently, and hot kisses that brushed his cheeks and temple.  It was the breathy whispers washing over his skin, drying his tears, and the hushed lullaby that stroked through the ragged discord of his song, harmonizing and softening with sweet overtones.  It was the brush of red curls, tickling against his nose, and the scent of warm comfort suffusing freckled skin.

"He has gone," Thranduil had gasped between wracking shudders, clutching for dear life to that strength. "He has gone."

It was a presence so powerful and so brilliant which held these final shadows at bay.  And it was the rumble of a steady heartbeat that rocked him into exhausted sleep.

It was the touch of callused fingers that awakened him to a new day.
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I blame the song.  Yeah, that seems like a fairly sound argument.  It's all because of that song that plays at the end of RotK after they all sail away on the last ship (haha, not actually the last ship but for drama's sake let's roll with it) to leave Middle-earth (in fact, it may be the last ship leaving Eriador, but not Middle-earth, because Legolas later sails from Gondor).  Therefore, Into the West, sung by Annie Lenox, is entirely to blame for the moroseness of this piece.

But not the ambiguous ending.  And yeah, I know with all the shit that Amrod does that he shouldn't be forgiven, but I just finished reading Anestel and its sequel, and if Legolas can forgive Glorfindel than Thranduil can forgive Amrod.  And it was a hell of a lot longer ago, too.  Six thousand years, in fact.

Forgive the lack of coherency of this rant.  It's late and I need sleep.  Blame chemistry lab.  We did presentations today and now I'm ready to fall over and sleep for a week.  Shame that we still have finals before I can escape.