"Which would be my exact intention," he murmured. "Pray to the Valar he does not wake with a headache." Thranduil fell silent afterwards, his eyes on his goblet. He’d stopped the other Elves from sending in wine, although his head was far from hazy. Still, he called in for some barley water to help flush the toxins brought by the wine.
"I shall take my leave for tonight." He stood after a few sips of the cool water, inclining his head downwards. "’Quel undome, utinu.” For all his aloofness, he was hugely relieved that his son had survived all the wars and conflicts he’d been in. Never mind that he carried the name of the Greenwood with him; all that the Elvenking could think of while receiving reports of his son’s whereabouts was that he come home.
Now that he was, Thranduil hoped he wouldn’t be forced to part ways with Legolas any time soon.
"I believe that I shall retire for the night as well. The journey was long and I could do with some rest. I will see you in the morning, ada, sleep well," he smiled softly, inclining his own head and beginning to walk off down the familiar corridors of the Mirkwood realm towards his own room. It would be good to get back to it after so long away.
And sure enough, his room was exactly as he had left it before he had gone away to Imladris. There were some stray arrows dotted across his desk from where he had been attempting to improve them, but had abandoned them when he had been chosen to take the message. It was good to be home.