Just a Simple Mistake by Sivan Shemesh (fiction books to read .TXT) 📕

want you to ever get hurt." Oropher said, feeling his eyes moisten.

"But what about you? I do not wish to lose you." Thranduil gasped and swallowed the tears that now fell freely from his eyes.

Oropher gently wiped the tears from his son's face."Remember that I’m always with you, here." Oropher placed his hand on Thranduil's chest, where his heart was beating faster than ever.

Then the king hugged his son, gathered his weapons and headed to where Elrond was waiting.

Once he mounted his stallion, Oropher turned for a last look at his prince, his only son, and then he turned around and sighed, riding toward the horizon as a lone tear left his eyes.

Thranduil’s tears fell unbidden as the pain of the memory struck him.

He placed his hand on his chest – he missed his ada so much. His mind wandered to when the delegation returned from the war…

When the news came that the war was over, Prince Thranduil could not get any rest or even eat, as the worry for his ada ate at him every day.

The guards could sense that the prince was growing weaker and they all feared that if their king did not return alive, the prince might be lost in grief. They could only hope that King Oropher was constant as the rain.

Thranduil heard the hard galloping of horses, and thought 'This is it, the moment has come. I hope that ada was not hurt that badly.'

The delegation entered, and his heart missed a beat when he did not see his father. At that moment, Thranduil felt the rage flood his mind, he vaguely knew that he was gripping his sword very tightly, and then he let it fall to the floor.

He stormed toward where the delegation was, and they quickly halted at the fierce determination and rage that marked his face.

"Where is my adar?" Thranduil asked and locked his eyes on Elrond.

Elrond tried to turn his eyes away from the new king but could not, as he felt the pain and rage that radiated from Thranduil.

"Your Adar… I mean… he fell…" Elrond looked away uncertainly, not knowing how Thranduil would react. After all, now that Thranduil had lost his adar, he had no one but the guards to watch his back, and besides that, he also had to carry out his father’s kingly responsibility – without anyone to guide him.

"Why did you not did something? Anything?" Thranduil said, trying to contain his rage before he spoke something he would regret.

"Thranduil…" Elrond started, noting how the guards seemed tense at his familiar address.

"King Thranduil," Elrond started again, sighing before he continued, "We all did our best to watch out for one another, to save as many as we could, but it was war – we… we did our best."

And the healer could see how the usually calm Thranduil had an expression he had not seen before.

"Did you?" Thranduil asked and stepped forward to Lord Elrond.

Elrond stood rooted, though he could feel his heart beating as though he had run from Lothlórien to Imladris with orcs on his tail.

"We all did the best we could." Elrond voice seemed like a whisper to Thranduil.

Thranduil looked away. "Have you at least brought something of him?" he asked.

Elrond silently walked back to his horse, and returned with a long sword covered in ashes and dried blood.

"Hannon le," Thranduil thanked him, his eyes locked upon his adar's sword. Then, he continued, "You may leave now."

With that, Lord Elrond and the delegation of the survivors bowed and left. Even in his grief, Thranduil saw how their numbers were so much smaller than when they had come for his father.

With that sad memory, Thranduil left his room with an idea that he hoped could settle whatever it was between Elrond and his son. He had been through enough and he did not wish to lose his own heir because of Elrond, the healer who had previously helped his heart mend.

Thranduil walked through the hallway and stopped at Legolas’ room. He could hear Galdor whispering softly, and could not stop himself from smiling, and yet when he saw how his son remained emotionless, he feared more than ever that he might lose his son.

He stepped in, and asked Galdor to ready the horses.

The guard left the king and the prince alone while he went to do his duties.

"Legolas, ion," Thranduil pleaded, seeing how Legolas had not even changed his position on the bed, "Please, look at me…"

But Legolas could not. His heart was filling with darkness as he heard the conversation between his adar and Galdor, and how they spoke of horses and leaving. His mind was overwhelmed in the fear that his ada, the great king of Mirkwood, now wished to ban him from his only home.

Thranduil moved to the other side of the bed where Legolas’ face was still staring into the distance and caught his gaze, noticing how dull and empty his son’s blue eyes were.

"Legolas…" he started, as a tear left his eyes.

"I wish to say… I will be leaving with Galdor and a guard for Imladris…" the king spoke.

Legolas did not respond, and Thranduil could only hope that his son had heard him.

With that, the king left the room, hoping that Imladris would give him the answers he needed to see his son smiling and with joy when he returned.

After his ada left his room, the prince sighed softly. He could hear the sound of the birds calling him, yearning for his presence, and also the darkness that enveloped the room.

He gathered what arrows he had left and picked up his bow. His fingers brushed against his sword tentatively, but he left it behind. He did not dare to set his eyes on it ever again.

Legolas left his room, heading for the palace exit. It was time for the changing of the guards and they barely noticed him as he walked through the forests hidden by the shadows. He left his stallion behind, after all, he did not know where to go, or if his stallion would even bear him. He felt so alone now in the knowledge that no one could ever look at him, except as a murderer.

Chapter 5: Someone to Watch over

Imladris

Elrond was pleased as Legolas left his home. He was pleased when he heard how his sons turned their backs on the Mirkwood prince. It was time Prince Legolas learned the consequences of his actions.

Elrond looked at his foster son's limp form.

He sighed heavily, remembering what he did earlier; but he knew that the prince had to confront his conscience.

The twins sat nearby beside their little brother. Elrohir could felt the guilt rising inside his body, and he was certain that his twin knew it too; how they could not be friends with Legolas even though he tried his best to be friends with them…

They knew about the messenger whom their adar sent to Mirkwood, and wondered what happened between the king and his son.

Elrohir smiled at the memory that suddenly struck his mind, Legolas always showed them kindness while they were in Lord Glorfindel’s lessons...

Legolas observed them in their lesson, while he sat upon the green blanket of nature, smiling as Estel tried his best to hold the sword in both hands, but said nothing, not wishing to dampen the boy’s high spirits.

He could not ignore the twins who were focusing on their lessons, and it seemed to Legolas that Elrohir was doing it all wrong. He could see the fear that showed upon the Peredhel's face and decided to act before the lord did so more harshly.

He rose and walked toward them, calling Elrohir gently, surprised at hearing Glorfindel calling him as well.

"Elrohir," Legolas called again, and added before the lord could interrupt, "Elrohir, mellon-nin, you’re doing it wrong. Though I believe Lord Glorfindel is teaching you to defend yourself from follow-up strokes after being hit, you need to learn how to defend yourself first."

Then he moved closer to his friend, and chuckling softly, he whispered to him, "Here let me show you."

Legolas turned toward the lord, and challenged him, "I challenge you, Lord Glorfindel."

Glorfindel nodded and smiled at the Mirkwood's prince, walking over to face him.

The Elf-lord started with an attack, and Legolas, trying to show the brothers how they should combine attack and defense, could only be glad his adar gave him the proper lessons and guidance concerning the use of the sword. And he told him never to give up with his lessons, for they would soon be learned.

When the fight was over, Glorfindel clapped Legolas's shoulders and said, "Legolas, you should be present more often in these lessons. They definitely focus better with you around, and I believe you will make a great teacher as well."

"Hannon-le, my lord," Legolas thanked him and added with a smile, "I will leave that for you and Lord Erestor as you are trying to do the best for them, while I will remain as their friends to help them develop the skills they possess - after all, they mostly need to hone them more."

"You are right, my friend." Glorfindel nodded as he smiled to him.

After the lesson ended, Elrohir came to his friend and asked, "How did you do it?"

"Do what?" Legolas turned his innocently blue eyes toward him.

"Glorfindel," Elrohir replied, and then he elaborated, "The way that you practically manipulated him. He seemed to love how you help him with us."

Legolas stared at his friend, seemingly confused, "What does that mean?"

"It means that you are his best friend beside my brothers, and you are here to be our friend." Elrohir replied.

Legolas shook his head, trying to move to another subject.

"Besides your lesson, is there something else going on?" Legolas asked, as he still believed the Peredhel was hiding something from him.

"Not that I know." Elrohir replied and shrugged.

--

Elladan noticed the smile on his twin’s face, and asked, "Why are you smiling?"

Elrohir sighed heavily before he replied, "I remembered when Legolas helped Glorfindel once with our swords lesson, and even challenged the lord, only to show us how to fight. He is our friend, he was there for us. And we were not even there for him."

"That is because he harmed our brother!" Elladan snapped at his twin.

Elrohir rose from his chair, staring at his baby brother, who still lay in the bed. His skin was pale like a corpse, and his eyes were closed. The elf did not know to who to believe anymore. Legolas certainly told them nothing; they were the ones who insisted it was all his fault, but what if they were wrong? It seemed that neither his father nor his brother believed that possibility.

Elrohir left the room, not wishing to look back, even when his twin and his father called for him. He knew he needed to be alone now.

Once he was out of the house, he felt the cold wind embracing him, and yet he could feel a presence coming closer, intruding into his space. He harshly asked, without looking back to see who it was, "What do you want, Elladan?"

"Are you calling me now Elladan, young Elrohir?" Glorfindel