Voice of Dragonland

PS: The Voice of Longyu will finally have a day when the clouds will be cleared. The gardener is excited, his thoughts are chaotic, and his spirit is sick... I'm going to take some medicine...

In any case, this is a very, very good start, and we can look forward to it~~

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In the early morning of winter, the sun fell softly on the trees, and there was a hint of bitterness in the wind.

Thranduil wandered alone in the dense forest, he didn't want anyone to follow him, he just walked aimlessly, walked out of the underground palace subconsciously, subconsciously not thinking about the change that subverted everything.

A dead leaf fell from the top of the tree and slowly landed at his feet. The golden leaf surface carried the last warmth of autumn, lying there quietly.

There is a faint sound of music in the air, distant and familiar.

familiar?

Thranduil narrowed his eyes and walked towards the direction of the music.

Surrounded by towering ancient trees, they are densely covered by walls, and there is no trace of what lies behind.He stepped into it, pushed aside the layers of branches and leaves, tore off a branch, and looked forward without showing any signs of expression.

The water was gurgling, and a crooked-necked willow tree poked out to the surface of the water. A figure was half lying on it, holding a leaf flute made of leaves in his hand. The sound of the flute overflowed from his lips like spring water, melodious and melodious, attracting birds circled around him.

The fingers that were gently pinching the branch suddenly tightened, and the eyes fell on the figure without blinking.

That year, Legolas played the leaf flute here, and then rushed to the battlefield. The goodbye was Glasgow's tragic.

He still remembers the sad and melodious tune, the way he half-lyed on the willow tree looking up at the sky, the faint disappointment on his face, the lazily unrolling of the clouds in the sky that year, and the golden sunlight scattered around him beside...

The tune seemed to have magical power, it quietly overflowed into his heart, and gently set off a huge wave, which made him stop breathing.His lips parted slightly, but no sound came out.The palms holding the branches were wet, as cold as the rocks under his feet. He heard his heartbeat, speeding up bit by bit, screaming bit by bit, and ran wildly in a direction he couldn't even imagine.

But that figure is real, the melody has not yet finished, the sadness on his face fluttered into the air along with the melody...

Thranduil withdrew his gaze, turned around quietly, and walked forward quickly.

At the end of the song, the ugly guy threw the leaf flutes in his hand into the stream and watched them drift away in curls.

It's cold, is it going to snow?It's a pity, I'm afraid I won't be able to see the snow scene in the dense forest this year.Thinking this way, he sat up from the willow tree, jumped and landed by the stream, and strode towards the palace.

"Your Majesty, please help bring the letter to Lord Serophon." Galian stopped the ugly guy in front of the palace gate, "Be sure to get a reply."

"Message delivery?" The ugly guy looked at Gallian inexplicably. The Sir is training at the school ground less than a mile away from the main hall. Is it necessary to communicate by letter?

The ugly guy put the letter in his arms, turned and ran towards the school grounds.

After receiving the letter, Serofen suddenly felt a sense of sadness, and he glanced at the ugly guy, "Well, wait a moment, I will write back to His Majesty."

Serofen took out the letter paper slowly, took out the ink slowly, and went around the room a few times to find the quill, then sat down and looked at the ugly guy apologetically, "I don't mind if I make a pot of tea before replying Bar?"

The ugly guy endured and endured, and finally broke out at the moment when the lord was peeling the pine nuts with a smile, "My lord, your majesty is waiting for your reply."

"Oh, yes, yes!" Serofen put down the pine nuts, "You see, what His Majesty asked me to describe happened thousands of years ago, I have to think about it, um, maybe ask my father would be more precise..."

The ugly guy stopped the lord who wanted to slip away, "My lord, I think you know why I stopped you."

Seeing the Sir Sir sit down with regret, he couldn't help but rolled his eyes. He really didn't understand why His Majesty would be in the mood to communicate with the ministers who were close to him by letter. Is there anything that can't be said face to face?

Serofen put away her smile, showing a bitter face, expecting Ai Ai to reply.His Majesty's letter is very simple, "Reply, the longer the better, try to delay the ugly guy."

The lowest floor of the soldier's dormitory had no lights, and it was as pure black as the haze of a long night. Thranduil walked towards the end of the corridor alone, the stones under his feet were bumpy and cold.There is only a vague outline of the road ahead, guiding him forward.At the end of the darkness, there is an old door. The original inlaid iron carvings and edgings have corroded and fallen off, revealing the incomplete and decayed wooden bottom. The rusty and mottled door lock hangs obliquely in the center, and the decorative effect is far greater than the actual effect.This is where he lives, even though he has become the king's valet, he still lives in a dark corner away from the crowd.

Wang stood at the door, the surrounding was terrifyingly silent, and the darkness in front of him made people want to escape involuntarily. He just stood there, his eyes fixed on the old and fragile door for a long time.A few questions that were as heavy as a stone rolled through his mind, rumbling.

The answer is inside the door.

He finally reached out and unscrewed the door lock, and pushed it open.

The house was low, without windows, and pitch black.

Thranduil lit the candle by the door casually, and the simple but tidy room was illuminated by the dim yellow candlelight, revealing its true colors.

A bed, a pair of tables and chairs, a wardrobe with missing legs, and nothing else.

Thranduil's attention was all on the mottled wall.

The back was drawn with charcoal, with a few strokes, simple but vivid, smooth long hair hanging down to the waist, broad shoulders, narrow waist, slender legs, tall and straight, imposing.

Just like a wasp's tail needle piercing a nerve, it's not pain but numbness. From a certain point, it starts to linger, until the whole thinking begins to be paralyzed, making him feel that he has suddenly gone to another world, and the senses have lost their function for a while. Only the A dense tingling pain emerged little by little.

The time spent in a daze was very long, as if she had been reborn, as if she had gone through a battle of an era; it was also very short, just for a moment.Thranduil woke up, and the vague memories of the past suddenly flooded into his mind, surging and unstoppable like a tide.

"What you left me the most... is this back view..."

"I often chase in my dreams, wanting to run in front of you, to see if your appearance is as cold as this figure..."

The yellowed picture in his memory gradually became clearer. He remembered, he remembered the portrait that Legolas touched, he remembered Legolas' sad tone, he remembered...that year he left in a hurry, and lost everything...

Thranduil stretched out his hand, touched the mottled wall, and moved his fingertips along the outline of the back, "It's you..."

His blue eyes were dull, and there was no wave on his delicate face. It seemed that what he saw was an ordinary scene, and it seemed that all these were not enough to surprise or sadden him.

Just the moment he turned around, almost fell over.

The ugly guy's extremely ferocious face and Legolas' god-given appearance, the ultimate beauty and ugliness hovered in his mind, his heart was beating wildly, and a voice screamed wildly in his heart, sharp and piercing, he spent a lot of time It took a long time to realize what it was, "You didn't recognize him...you didn't...you didn't..."

He had to hold on to the wall to stabilize his body, and had to swallow the air to relieve the suffocation in his heart, "Lego...Lars..."

Thranduil forced himself to look away from the wall, but unexpectedly landed on the thin bed.

On the bed made of stone, with rough cotton sheets, his back is still on the sheets.

Bewitched at the same time, he stretched out his hand to gently caress the back. On the shoulder, there was a small water stain, wet and cold.

In a daze, Thranduil seemed to see the ugly guy curled up in the back formed by these lines, fantasizing that he was sticking to his father's back, fantasizing that he was still protected and cared by his father, fantasizing that he had never left go……

It seemed that he could clearly see his tears slowly overflowing his eyes, across his scarred and mottled cheeks, and falling drop by drop on the emptiness of his back.

When he smiled and praised Selosta's improvement in swordsmanship, when he gently braided Selosta's warrior braids, when he used his father's identity to cover and condone Selosta's wanton behavior time and time again, in When he was saddened by Selostar's disappearance...his Legolas, shed heartbroken tears night after night, for the love he never received, for his unrecognizable appearance at this moment, for the fact that he had to Living in humiliation with a humble status, because he had to watch his father deliver his unreserved love to another child.

His fingers trembled slightly, and the blood on his cheeks faded between Xumi.He collapsed, completely useless in his legs and feet, unable to move, and unwilling to move.

Exhausted, a strange sense of nightmare enveloped him.I want to convince myself that this is a dream, and when I wake up, all the absurdities will rush to disappear.

Even though he knew it was true.

Every inch of his heart began to ache, the pain was devastating, at that moment, he seemed to feel that he had experienced death again.

Died of self-blame and remorse.

Tears rolled down the corner of his eyes.

Thick and heavy.

tumble.

The suppressed moans were soaked in the salty smell of blood and tears, struggling to squeeze out from the depths of the lungs, bloody echoing in the low and oppressive space.

The ugly guy handed Serophin's reply to Thranduil, although he was puzzled, he didn't ask.

Thranduil opened the letter, glanced at ten lines, and threw them into the stove.

"You said you found your family?" Thranduil said lightly.

"Yes." The ugly guy hadn't recovered from the shock of the disappearance of the letter that took him the whole afternoon, and replied ignorantly.

"Where are they?" Thranduil turned his back to him, and slowly poured the Dovinin from the jug into the wine glass.The blood-like mellow red wine gurgles down from the mouth of the bottle, and the fine and mellow aroma winds up, making those who smell it drunk.

"In..." The ugly guy was startled, then calmed down, and said nonsense, "In Rivendell."

"Really?" Thranduil couldn't hear any emotion in his tone, but the ugly guy could vaguely smell a trace of depression. He cautiously raised his head to look at the king, but couldn't see any clues.

"Galion told me that you live on the bottom floor of the soldiers' dormitory?" Thranduil changed the subject, took a sip of the liquid in the glass, and there was a fruity aroma in the bitterness, followed by spicy, slightly burning his throat.

"Yes." The ugly guy replied.

"The captain of the vanguard has just been dismissed, you can move into his dormitory." Thranduil put down his wine glass, and walked slowly in front of him.

"No need..."

The ugly guy breathed a sigh of relief, as if he had finally made up his mind, "Your Majesty, please allow me to follow the Grand Duke and go to the north of Changhu Lake as the vanguard!"

Thranduil's fingers holding the wine glass tightened suddenly,

"I am willing to fight for the dense forest!" His voice was so firm and steady, echoing heavily in the hall like metal falling to the ground.

"You go down first."

"His Majesty!"

"I'll arrange it." Thranduil stood in front of him, with a careless appearance, as if he was hiding something deep in his mind.

"Your Majesty...after the war is over, I will leave the jungle and go to Rivendell...to reunite with my family." The ugly guy whispered, "Please give me a chance to fight for the jungle."

"Is that so..." Thranduil actually smiled slightly, and the smile hung on the corner of his mouth, but it didn't reach his eyes, "I see."

The ugly guy walked towards the dormitory with some anxiety. He was very concerned about the smile Wang showed at the end. The ugly guy felt that there was some abnormality hidden under the calm, and at some point it would overturn all the seemingly calm and rigid time like a tsunami.

His dormitory was at the end of the corridor alone, and there was a vague fragrance in the air. The ugly guy took out the key and found an orchid pinned to the doorbolt, and another key was placed on the door with a note. Threshold edge.

"Move as soon as possible, this place needs to be used as a warehouse. - Gallian"

The ugly guy silently put away the keys and notes, and let the flowers stay on the simple door to smell their fragrance.

Unlocking and entering the door, there is no abnormality in the house, the candle is lit, illuminating the simple to barren objects in the small space.

The few things in the house were quickly tidied up, and he looked back deeply at the figure painted on the wall.

The pain that he deliberately avoided came all over his head, as if pouring hot oil on his body, the sore pain struggled out from the cracks in the bones, the stinging pain was unbearable,

He tried his best to restrain himself from thinking about Thranduil smiling and saying love, not thinking about the enchanting way he was tossing and turning under others, not thinking that he already belonged to him and gave everything... But all of this is like The fragrance of flowers blooming in the air in spring is like the ubiquitous heat in summer, like dewdrops in autumn that are full of grass leaves, like snowflakes floating in winter, no matter how you ignore it, it is there, vivid and beautiful. enchanting.

His meager expectations gradually dissipated, like dust blown by a strong wind, disappearing on the shore that cannot be found...

The ugly guy smiled, looked softly at the figure on the mottled wall, and reached out to gently touch the long hair on the back. "Even so, I still... love you hopelessly." The warm forehead pressed against the cold wall, but he fantasized that it was his warm back, "Even if there is no Lego in your heart anymore." Russ..."

"Your Majesty?" Gallian handed the roughly processed bow and arrow to Thranduil with some doubts, "What... are you doing?"

Thranduil didn't answer, but took the recurve bow and looked at it carefully, "How is the repair of the bedroom?"

"According to your instructions, everything is arranged according to His Highness Legolas' former bedroom." Gallian watched the king take out the carving tools and carefully polished the recurve bow, "This is..."

"Bison." Thranduil continued what Galian had said in a flat voice, "Bison of Legolas."

It was difficult for Galian to find the words to describe his feelings at this moment. The distant and familiar name pierced into his heart like a sharp awl, causing a bloody sting, "Why do you want to..."

"He's coming back soon." Thranduil used golden lacquer to outline the ivy branches and leaves on the bow arm, and when the lacquer was dry, he used a carving knife to carve out the outline little by little.

Galian didn't know how to comfort the king, and a frown of sadness flashed in his eyes. He was worried that the rebellion and departure of His Royal Highness Selosta would completely collapse the king's mind.

"Where's the ugly guy?" Wang was still concentrating on the work in hand, his slender fingers dexterously carved the hard wood, carving out delicate leaf veins and coiled vines.

"He inspected all the soldiers' weapons and armor in the school yard..." Gallian replied cautiously, "I won't return to the palace before sunset today."

"Very good." Thranduil continued the carving with his hands, gently blowing away the fine sawdust on the bow from time to time.

Galian looked at the king's meticulous appearance, thinking in his heart, when the drunk Redagast woke up, he must ask him to see if he was hurt by magic and could not control himself soberly.

Thranduil completely disregarded that he had been branded as crazy by the butler, and patiently sculpted the delicate lines on his own. A little smile emerged from the corner of his mouth, as the hope in his heart gradually became clear.