Disclaimer: I do not own J.R.R Tolkien’s characters. But, I do own my characters.

Authors Note: Takes place before LOTR/pre-FOTR and is about Legolas’ past. Is posted on fanfiction.net on my user name knight-that-says-ni.

Chapter 1

The autumn leaves crunched beneath his feet and yet through the forest he walked. The trees he noticed, stood as one and never as two. The trees were strong, solitary and solemn just like he felt. He could hear faint whispering coming from the direction of the trees and yet, he did not look back. He paused in his steps as he watched a leaf fall from a tree branch.

“Alas,” he whispered to himself, “the last leaf has fallen.”

Saying no more, he walked on wondering about growth and rebirth. Autumn had forever been his favorite season. He had seen many autumns in his time. However, now thinking himself a bit more grown, he had decided to take a journey to watch the leaves change colors. Of course, this journey was against his fathers’ wishes.

He turned around and though he could no longer see his kingdom, he knew that it would forever be there as long as his race survived. The strength of his people amazed him. All were one with nature and yet, immortal. Their immortality was the one thing that was unlike nature, for, nature had the ability to wither away, decay, lose leaves and petals. These elves would stay forever young and beautiful.

Legolas, the Prince of Mirkwood, was just as solitary as the trees that surrounded him. Never did he acknowledge being the Prince of Mirkwood lest a second party addressed him as such. A woodland elf was he with hair the color of wheat in the sunlight. His bright eyes were yearning for knowledge. However, he did not know what he was to find. He knew not what lay beyond the woods. He had never taken a journey like this before, not on his own. The objections that his father, Thranduil, made to the journey rang
throughout his mind. Legolas knew that he could take care of himself despite the concerns of his father. Yet, there were rumors circulating about Mordor once again.

The wheels in Legolas’ mind reeled towards the argument he had with his father about the journey. Remorse hit Legolas as he felt that he had uttered unforgivable words and fought the urge to go back to Mirkwood to apologize to his father.

“You cannot be so bold,” Thranduil had warned his son, “not when the time is so undetermined. We cannot say whether or not Middle Earth is secure. Yet, there is talk about Mordor.”

Legolas had muttered indifferently, “What I will encounter upon my journey shall be out of sheer experience and not from the evils that you speak of.”

Quietly, Thranduil had looked away and had sent his son a small farewell smile, “Let it be known that you were safer in Mirkwood than you shall be anywhere else.”

Legolas hesitated, for, he knew that his fathers’ comment was quite true. But, soon, his features took on the look of a rebellious prince. “To be safe is a luxury we cannot afford,” the regal prince muttered.

Legolas sighed as he looked past the mountains with these thoughts in his mind. He was torn between wanting to go back to the safety of his home and the feeling of proving his father wrong. Why did his father have all the amusement? He knew that his father was the king and had to journey when called upon. But, was the prince so unworthy? Was the prince so unworthy that he could not have his own amusements and adventures?

King Thranduil still thought of his son as a mere elfling even though he was fully grown. Legolas was no elfling and no one knew it better than he.

Soon, Legolas turned his back and walked farther through the moss covered hills. The trees whispered as if they were conversing to one another. Soon, the trees began to whisper his name. A smile crept upon the golden elf’s lips, for, he was honored to have been acknowledged by nature. He was one with nature. He was alone with nature. This was heavenly to him. His sharp eyes took all the nature in, for, he was in awe. He
wished to always remain here. The beauty of nature made him feel free. As he walked on, the breeze blew past, sending his hair billowing behind him and he found this exhilirating. For once, he was not in the shelter of his palace. He was free. He was free to walk on like any other man in Middle Earth.

Farther and farther, he walked through the forest and closer and closer did the sunlight pour in. His skin felt the warmth of fresh daylight. Soon, the rays diminished and as he emerged from the forest; he found a hill that was covered in mist. He looked up and noticed a few ashes flitting in the air. Curiously, he walked towards the ashes and noticed that there were scorch marks upon the grass.

“What madness is this,” he whispered as he stooped down to touch the scorch mark. Quickly, he retrieved his hand back for it was still hot. Soon, the scorched grass turned into ashes as well and with the wind blew away. His sharp eyes watched as the mist carried the ashes. All was still as Legolas watched this eerie occurrence unfold. The
ashes left no trace nor clues of what was to be found and soon, there was nothing upon the hill but mist.

He began to set up camp on the misty hill. After all, he did not expect the journey to make him weary, for, he did not tire easily. He sat up in his tent as though he were alert of his surroundings. He soon began to write about his findings in his journal and smiled, for, he was determined to have an adventure just like his father had.