What Legolas waited for did not come, though Thranduil did understand the words. The Enemy, dormant for so long (never mind his suspicions) had awoken again. What he had feared since he had become King had come to pass, and Legolas- Legolas had been, from what he grasped, though faintly, on the front lines.

"Gorthaur-" he managed. "The Enemy, he is truly defeated ?"

Not as he had been during the Last Alliance, when all good had been twisted and burn, and the dirt saturated to mud with the blood of the fallen.

Shock and confusion turned quickly to something south of anger, Thranduil fierce with his questions. "And why were you on this quest? Why did this Fellowship need to contain my only son, my only child, when my people have spent more blood than any other to defeat Gorthaur?"