This is my first fanfiction, so let me know if I'm failing at life. This is also un-beta'd.

I absolutely love the Legolas/Aragorn (Estel) pairing, so this is slash, though not until later in the story. There are mentions of abuse in the beginning of the story, but nothing as crazy as I've read in other stories here.

This is set in the same world, though I think it would be considered A/U since it happens before the war of the ring. I also wrote Estel (Aragorn) in as being half-elf so that the story goes where I want it to in the end.

Really, this is a story about life and love. About overcoming the shit we get go through and knowing that not everyone is cruel or selfish. We all go through stuff, hard stuff. Not everyone's stuff is the same, but that doesn't mean it's any less hard. In this story, there will be fluffy nonsense, humor, awkward moments, and sometimes you may want to punch one of the characters. That's life.

If anything I've just written pisses you off, I wouldn't read this story. That's the joy of the internet. There's tons of other shit you can be doing if you don't want to be here.

I do not own any of Tolkien's characters or any of the wonderful places I mention.
This story is rated as it is for a reason. It's not crazy graphic, but I still wouldn't want anyone who didn't want to read it, accidentally doing so.
If you have any questions, feel free to ask them.
I respond well to criticism and correction.

Well...here goes nothing. (I promise this is just a back story chapter and it is straight dialogue after the first few)

It's a great burden to bear, knowing your naneth (mother) didn't survive your birth. Legolas didn't think his adar (father) ever truly blamed him, but he wouldn't blame him if he had. She was supposed to live forever by his adar's side. She was beautiful, more so than any other in the entire kingdom.

Thranduil, his adar, grieved for 50 years before he could really face anyone that resembled her. Legolas' brother, Lainor (name means freedom;male) had a slight likeness to her, but It has been made very clear by all, that Legolas was his naneth's iôn (son) in looks and spirit. Legolas had pure blond hair and bright blue eyes. Such a clear and innocent beauty to his face. Legolas would also gain his mothers gracefulness and strong but beautiful demeanor.

As an elfling, Legolas never saw his adar, though he remembers hearing Thranduil's voice order others to look after and to care for Legolas. He even remembered hearing his adar speak of his love for Legolas and still call him iôn nin (my son).

Lainor would visit Legolas before bed some nights, but Lainor always kept so busy during the day. Whether this was to avoid his own grief or that of their adar's, he did not know. So Legolas was left in the care of the servants and hand-maids of the kingdom. He has very fond memories of a few of them, Lumorniel (name means daughter of the tree's shade) specifically. She, though often busy with her duties, always spent time doting on Legolas. Telling him how bright and beautiful he was. She was the only one he ever let hold him. Lumorniel was quite petite, with deep green eyes and very dark hair. She would tell him stories when she could, and when he was older, she would listen to his stories and songs.

One servant, however, did quite the opposite. Minasson (name means tower;male) reminded Legolas always that he was the one who stole his naneth's light. Told him that he was a kin-slayer and that his adar could never love him. Took him to dark corners of the kingdom and beat him and used him. Minasson told Legolas that if he spoke of it to anyone, he would kill Lumorniel and tell his adar that Legolas had done it. He bit his tongue, even with Lumorniel, and took the abuse. He figured it was the least he deserved if all Minasson had told him was true.

He made sure to hide the signs of abuse. He would bathe alone and make sure that his hair covered the bruises on his neck. He did his best to mask his physical pain and created excuses when he was found out. The evil ministrations of Minasson continued to get worse. Legolas turned down any romantic or friendly advances from other elves. He felt as though everyone could see the shame he felt for allowing such dirty and horrible things to happen to him.

Minasson had stolen Legolas' ability to feel love or worth.

Legolas didn't see Thranduil's eyes until well past his 50th summer. Legolas assumed it caused his adar too much pain to look at him. By the time that Thranduil was able to look upon his iôn's face with love, there was nothing left of the little beautiful baby that had caused him so much grief. As Thranduil moved to pull his iôn into his arms, Legolas dropped his gaze and flinched. He had tried so hard to hide the fear, but no one in the room could have missed it. The only loving touch he had known was that of Lumorniel and it was far outweighed by the hurtful touch of Minasson. Thranduil pulled his iôn's chin up to force their eyes to meet and he could see the pain in his eyes.

Legolas knew then that his adar had no idea what was happening in his own courts. He had truly been blinded to it all by grief. Legolas couldn't let him know what had happened. He couldn't let him blame himself. Just as Minasson had told him, Legolas was the reason his adar had lost the love of his life, so he would do this for him. Legolas would be Thranduil's iôn and go through the motions of being a prince.

Legolas forced a small brave smile and let himself be pulled to the chest of his adar. He cried out "ada" (daddy) and both Adar and iôn wept. "iôn nin" (my son) Thranduil cried as he held Legolas tightly to him. They embraced and they shared in their tears and grief.

Upon seeing their reunion, Minasson left the kingdom. Legolas felt like he could finally try to move on.

over the next 50 years he tried to act as normal as he could, but the more Legolas faked being comfortable in the company of others, the more Thranduil saw through it. His worry for his iôn grew day after day and it only added to Legolas' desire to run and hide. He would feign weariness and tiredness from his tasks so that he could skip group meal times and he would skip his daily tasks all together. Legolas had become quite comfortable being by himself.

He kept the door to his room locked at all times and, much to the compassion of Lumorniel, he went to the kitchens late at night to find his meals prepared for him. Legolas was able to avoid most interaction and only for Lumorniel and my adar did he occasionally voluntarily present himself. Along with his meals, Lumorniel would prepare sacks of supplies. Parchment and writing supplies. Oils and herbs. She would write him poems and stories, similar to those she told him as an elfling. She would leave him notes from Thranduil and news of the kingdom.

Lumorniel tried to look over and help Legolas without interfering too far into his life. Before adar and iôn were reunited, she would tell Thranduil stories of how his Legolas was doing. How fast he was learning and of his growing. Now that Thranduil longed for his iôn's presence, Lumorniel was there once again to fill the gaps. She encouraged the king to have hope that Legolas would come around.

By his 100th summer he had secured his daily routine. Legolas would wake and leave through his bedroom window before the sun had reached the horizon. He always used his window, for many years had passed since he had unlocked his door. These are, of course, the rare nights that he even made it back to his room to sleep. He would drop down into the trees and go to his secret place. His galadh (tree).

Legolas had found a half hollowed tree and had dug down inside the tree and out through it's roots to form quite a large underground room. All you could see from the outside was a half hollow tree. He had filled the walls with shelves of books and drawings and parchment filled with his own personal stories and trinkets. The roots of the tree seemed to hold his secret space together and safe.

He would spend his time in the depths of his study or in the heights of his beloved galadh's branches. Sleeping, reading, writing, singing, drawing, planning, venting, breathing...This space, this tree, seemed to become his best friend. Swaying in time with his melodies and cradling him in sleep.

Legolas had long been recording his dreams and his nightmares. He would write them down and draw them out. Sometimes changing the colors to reflect the mood or temper of the nightly visions. He wrote down the events trying to purge them from his head and his heart. Letting tears freely fall while trying to let go of the shame and burden he carried with him. This was the way he made it through each day.

As the day would wear on, He would find himself wandering through the woods. Bathing in the river. Honing his archery skills. Mapping out the kingdom. Gathering pieces of nature to add color and beauty to his drawings and his humble hollow space below his tree. As night would fall, Legolas would slowly make his way back to the palace.

On occasion Legolas would find Lumorniel to cut his hair or fit himself with new clothes and even less often he would seek out Thranduil and Lainor to share a meal with.

It was on one such night that Legolas was informed that they would be having visitors.

He was quite startled at this news. It was known through out the lands that king Thranduil hadn't entertained ANY guests since the celebration of his wife's last pregnancy. The pregnancy and birth that claimed her light.

Thranduil was going to host guests from Imladris, or as most know it Rivendell.

"Elladan and Elrohir, as well as their father, lord Elrond." Thranduil spoke. Elrond and Thranduil had been friends for years and years and Lainor had befriended Elladan and Elrohir on a visit he had made to Imladris. Legolas, however, had never met anyone from outside his own kingdom and could feel the start of panic deep in his stomach.

Legolas quickly dismissed himself from the meal and with sad eyes and a heavy heart, Thranduil watched him walk away.

Lainor grabbed his adar's hand and spoke soothing words to him. "Don't yet give up on Legolas, ada. He still learns and grows and I can see in him the makings of a great prince. You grieved for 50 years and yet you again sit on the throne and rule with confidence. He just needs time, ada. Avo awartha estel. (Don't abandon or forsake hope)"

"Hope" Thranduil thought. I must hold on to hope.