A Moment in Time
Author: jenolas  
nbozovic@optushome.com.au

PG-13 - General/Romance 
Disclaimer: LOTR belongs to the creative genius of JRR Tolkien, not me.

A Moment in Time

Thranduil read the message from Rivendell with a heavy heart. The happenings at 
Dol Guldur and the increasing darkness, which had spread like blight, turning 
Greenwood the Great to Mirkwood, had been a portent of doom. Sauron had risen 
again with the finding of the One Ring. The only choice the Council of Elrond 
could make was to send it back to Mordor, to destroy it by casting it into the 
fires of Mount Doom.

Legolas had volunteered to be one of the Nine who were to undertake this quest. 
Thranduil cursed himself for sending Legolas to Rivendell, to tell the Council 
that he had allowed that disgusting creature, Gollum, to escape. He could not 
argue with the need for the destruction of the One Ring, but he feared that he 
would never see his son again. Their relationship had always been a stormy one, 
especially after his beloved wife had journeyed from the Grey Havens to the 
Undying Lands, but it was also one of great love and respect.

He poured himself a glass of wine and as he raised it in a silent toast to his 
son's courage, the portrait above the fireplace caught his eye and he allowed 
himself to travel back to the time it had been painted.

******* He had been sitting beneath his favourite oak tree, so thoroughly 
engrossed in his book, that he did not hear her sneak up behind him. He started 
slightly as delicate fingers covered his eyes and a soft, beloved voice 
whispered in his ear, "Guess who?" The gentle breath in his ear sent shivers 
down his spine and he laughed as he caught her hands in his,

"There is only one who could catch me unawares and in such a pleasing way, my 
love." He pulled his wife to him and kissed her passionately. "Where have you 
been?" he asked when they finally parted.

"I was arranging to have our portrait painted."

"Our portrait?" he asked wondering at such a strange request. They had not even 
discussed this. "Do I have a choice?"

"No, and it must be today," she insisted.

"MUST be? Why?" he asked, intrigued by the earnest look on her face.

"Because," she said as she gently traced the outline of his ear with her finger, 
causing him to groan with pleasure, "I believe this is the day we will be given 
a child."

Their loving was long and passionate, and as the soft, sweet song of one 
intertwined with the deeper harmony of the other, a new melody joined them. They 
had stayed under the oak tree, wrapped in each other's arms, just listening to 
the tiny thread of the new song they had created until it was time to sit for 
the portrait.

A year later, to the day, Legolas had entered the world. *********

The painter had captured the radiant joy on her face that day, Legolas' 
conception day and his too, if he cared to admit to the truth. Thranduil sighed 
inwardly; Legolas was so much like his mother, so gentle and loving, able to 
switch moods from anger to delight in the blink of an eye. Losing him would be 
akin to losing her again and Thranduil knew that he could not bear that pain. 
Needing to find some comfort from his misery, he found the much-loved book he 
had been reading that day and headed for his favourite oak tree.

The End