Sprinkles of Snow by Tamatoa

"Salt water"

From Anna (IdleLeaves)

“You know it’s a lie,” Thranduil says. His voice is cold, but Legolas knows by now that his father only holds it that way to avoid the quake that would otherwise belie his derision. “It won’t help you, being on the other side.”

Legolas watches his father’s back. The way he sets his long-stemmed wine glass on the side table, turns it so the patterns match the light falling through the window.

“All the same,” he says, “it calls to me.”

“Pity home never inspires the same sense of adventure.”

“It’s not an adventure,” says Legolas, “I only… seek rest.”