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Legolas let his steps reverberate through the stone floors of Rivendell, announcing his arrival to the Lord of the city, who had been previously watching over the railing towards his domain. The older elf barely acknowledged him, bowing his head for a moment without looking at him. Legolas, for his part, was quite nervous. Clenching his fists and trying to find the words for what he needed to say. Elrond, sensing this, spoke first.

“I was notified of your arrival at my home, but I did not expect to see you today, young prince. Tell me, what news do you bring from your lands?” Elrond now turned to look at him, raising his chin at Legolas' unsure state.

“I come bearing no news,” Legolas bowed. “but I do come bearing questions.”

“What questions could you have that your people can't answer?” Elrond's curiosity peaked at this, but he did not let it show.

“It's not that my people don't have answers, but those who do have them have decided to withhold them.” He stood straight, trying to gain some sympathy from the Elf Lord. “I made my journey to Lothlórien first, in spite of my father's wishes, but Lady Galadrield advised me to speak with you.”

“Then do so. I will be glad to give you the answers you seek.”

“I have been meaning to learn about my parentage.” Legolas said after a couple of seconds. This took Elrond by surprise, getting the older elf’s full attention. “No matter how many times I have asked my father, he will never answer me, always deflecting it or outright ignoring my questions.”

Elrond nodded at this, taking a moment to compose his thoughts. Thranduil had always been stubborn in general, and even more with this matter. And Elrond had promised to keep his mouth shut about it, but if Legolas himself came seeking an answer, who was he to deny something so personal?

“Take a seat, please.” He gestured toward one of the benches in the space they were in and spoke once again when the younger elf had sat. He noted how he fidgeted with his hand and how tense his posture was. “What I will say to you now must remain out of the ears of your father. Understood?”

“Of course.”

Legolas understood why Elrond was so keen on keeping secrets for Thranduil. While he loved his father much, it was undeniable that he had a weird temperament. And if he had made such efforts to keep his parentage secret, he would retaliate towards Elrond for running his tongue in one way or another.

"I assume you are aware of the War of the Last Alliance." Legolas nodded. "Both your father's kingdom and my people suffered great losses in it. Thranduil himself was crowned king amidst the events of it."

"I do not see how this relates to my question."

"Patience, I will explain it to you in just a moment. As you may know, in the war, Thranduil lost two thirds of his people, making it one of the heaviest losses in battle. And yet, when Rivendell asked him for aid and supplies, his first rulings as a king was to give them to us. Out of foolishness or genuine intention, I do not know. And to us, it didn't matter. Then he asked for only one thing in return. Do you know what that was?" Legolas shook his head. "

“He asked for a child.” Elrond continued. “He wanted an heir, having seen the mortality of his people so closely. When I asked him what he meant by that, he surprised me with the fact that he himself could bear children.” Elrond observed as Legolas looked confused, trying to put the pieces together. “And I agreed to this request.”

Images from that time creeped into Elrond's mind. He remembered Thranduil as he gave him such a vulnerable request, tall and mighty, but not yet fitting into his crown. He had first met Thranduil as a prince at Oropher’s side, but had quickly found friendship in him. Even after Thranduil started his ruling, they had remained in close contact, to the point where it wasn't weird to find the Elvenking travelling to Rivendell.

“It wasn't easy. Just because your father could bear children didn't mean that his body could go through with it.”

He remembered how much of a toll it took on Thranduil. They tried for quite some time to conceive a child and, once it finally took, it didn't take long for the king to lose it. At one point, Thranduil had even taken to reside in Rivendell because of the frequent problems he was having.

Once, after a recent loss, Elrond had said to Thranduil one of the few things he would ever regret. He had found him crouching on the floor of one of the smaller balconies, intently watching over the city as other elves went about their day. Elrond watched him for quite some time, searching for anything to say to quench the king's grief. And yet, he chose the worst he could let out.

‘Maybe the Valar do not want you to have a child.’

Elrond immediately regretted his words, as Thranduil looked over his shoulder with such fury and imposition that even in his curled up form, Elrond felt threatened. He did not need the king to speak what was on his mind. Thranduil did not doubt for a moment that the Valar were making it difficult for him to have a child, but he wanted it with all his soul. He thought it was unjust that so many other elves could do so, and him, being a king, was being unable to bring forth a single soul into the world. He had fought in war, watched his father and people be slain before him, and yet, he was thought unworthy to their gods.

But his wrath quickly curdled into sadness. Was he to be without any family for his whole eternity? He didn't even care about an heir anymore, they could give him a child that would never rise to succeed him, and he would love it nonetheless. But why did the Valar think him unworthy? He was strong, both in body and soul, he cared about not just his people, but most of the elves. He would accept if the Valar didn't want to give him a child, as he had no other option, but it didn't mean it wouldn't pain him greatly.

“However,” Elrond continued. “a child finally came through.”

“And that was me.” Legolas said tentatively but sure of himself, a small chill running through his back when Elrond nodded.

“Yes, it was. You should have seen how bothered your father was when you wouldn't let him rest the day he had you.” Elrond smiled as he thought back to Thranduil trying to adjust the crown on his head as a small screaming elfling fluttered in his arms. 

“So that means,” Legolas started. “that you are my father.”

“Only in blood.” Elrond corrected him. “But your father and your people were the ones that raised you. And politically, you're not my heir, as me and Thranduil agreed."

Legolas pondered this new realization. He was glad to have finally found the half of himself he was missing, but it only raised more questions in his mind. It did answer some questions, like why he didn't look quite like his father, but also he didn't look Silvan. It would also explain why Elrond let him take refuge in Imladris and seek the elder's council whenever he needed it. But it didn't explain why his father never opened about it, and why he hated so much when Legolas strayed towards Rivendell or searched for an answer.

"While this revelation surprises me, I still don't understand why my father never told me. He knows I would not get politically involved in the affairs of Rivendell and that I would not mind my lineage."

"Your father and I have… disagreed," Used Elrond to put it lightly. "on how much to tell you. As I said, we had agreed that you would have no power as my heir, so I did not mind you knowing it. But your father's worries were placed somewhere else." He could still hear Thranduil's steady voice as he commanded Elrond to never tell Legolas the truth. "Your father feared that, were you to know you were a Half Elf, you would choose the life of a mortal. I wanted to give you that choice, would you seek it, but Thranduil was adamant on keeping it from you."

"But I have no reasons to do so!" The younger elf felt betrayed at the fact that his freedom had been taken away all this time.

"Not yet, but so I thought of Arwen. I won't tell you to not be mad or upset, as it is your right, but understand that your father did it out of love. From the moment you were born, he has done so. And even if we disagree, I do not wish on anyone his situation."

Legolas recalled quite well how his father took care of him as a kid. He was never eager to let him do anything that was too dangerous, and any time the elfling got hurt, the king would treat his wounds with shaking hands and a kiss on his forehead. Legolas remembered the first time he got badly hurt in battle. It wasn't even fatal and yet, it was one of the first times he had ever seen his father despair. And he could not help but feel pity for his father, remembering the time he had briefly fallen for a human Man when he was younger. Thranduil had never liked it, but now, he knew why.

"I need to speak with my father." Legolas said after a long silence.

"Do not tell him it was me you learned it from. And if you do, tell him you wouldn't leave my doorstep until I told you." Legolas smiled at Elrond's warning and stood up, bowing with his hand on his heart.

"I won't, do not worry for him. I must leave now, but thank you for helping me once more."

"It was my pleasure, more than ever. You know now that you will always be welcomed in my lands, even if you didn't before."

Legolas nodded and gathered himself, walking away and leaving behind the Lord of Rivendell, who, after Legolas left, sat down and rubbed his temples.

He calculated how long until he had a scathing missive from Thranduil again, and this one would be worse than when he let his son embark his journey with the Fellowship.