Post by Admin on Jan 4, 2021 1:08:21 GMT
Author: Shire Rose
Summary: When Legolas joins Celebrian's train on that fateful journey between Imladris and Lorien history is changed. Now the only hope for a green-cloaked elf lies on his destiny as friend, elven-lord and one of the Nine Walkers.
Warning: Rated PG for death and battle. Also fairly AU, though Tolkien does call Legolas a “strange elf.” Any recognizable quotes and/or characters are of course Tolkien’s own. Elthain, Taldor and Erynel (Legolas’ sister) are mine. Oh, and I believe that Tolkien mentioned somewhere that Celeborn and Thranduil are kinsmen, I have made them cousins.
Lady Celebrian looked back towards the silent figures of the elven guards about her, though they were many and skilled a vague feeling of unease had been steadily growing on her for the past several hours. She wondered if she was the only one or if they felt it also. The air hung oppressive and heavy and it seemed difficult to breathe.
“Lady Celebrian, are you well?”
So preoccupied had she been with the taint in the air that she had not noticed the elf riding up to her. Unlike the guards, dark-haired, grey-cloaked and solemn his hair was a rich gold and he wore a vivid green mantle with gossamer-thin gold trimmings. His face was both handsome and merry and he smiled encouragingly as he looked towards her.
“Does not the air seem heavy cousin?”
He nodded and maneuvered closer until they rode side by side, the lady’s silver hair meeting the gold of his in the wind. They were a fair sight, the gracious and gentle lady of Imladris and the smiling warrior of the Greenwood.
“It is not just the air, methinks there is some menace that clouds my thoughts.” Celebrian turned towards him startled.
“You feel it also.” she said half to herself.
They rode onward with increasing wariness, Legolas warning the elven guard that something seemed to be amiss for both he and the lady were known to have had some measure of foresight in the past. They were passing through a narrow defile when the tiny alarm bells suddenly knelled loud and deep.
The horses raced out from beneath the shadow of the tall escarpments as the band of goblins and orcs could been seen converging behind them. They were many.
The elves spurred their horse on towards the comforting shade of the forest on the outskirts of Imladris. The orcs had not yet reached the gorge when Legolas’ sharp ears caught another sound before them. The orcs before them were fewer in number but it mattered not should they be caught between the forces.
He made his choice in a few moments, focusing on the grey-cloaked elves as he turned his horse. He called the leader of the guards to him.
“Guard the lady” he said sternly, “I will see that no orc slips behind your backs.”
“Ernil nin…” began Taldor. Legolas cut him off swiftly, “The pass is narrow, one may keep many orcs at bay. If it goes ill, Lady Celebrian will need the protection of her guards. May Elbereth keep you.”
Celebrian looked back confused as Legolas rode back.
“Ride on” he called cheerfully, “I will see you in Imladris cousin Celebrian.” And he dashed back into the shadow of the looming precipices.
“Legolas!” she called, and then she too heard the second band of orcs and knew that there was little that could be done. If Legolas could hold the first host off long enough for them to destroy the smaller band all might yet be well.
“Ready your arrows!” she called as they gathered speed and charged down at the orcs, two score when tallied.
Her own light bow was drawn to its limit, her hand shaking ever so slightly.
“Release!” her fingers opened and the shaft pierced the throat of the leader. The elves had a second arrow to their strings in a heartbeat and she shot again. The orcs came too close for the bows and there was a ring of steel as their swords were drawn.
About her chaos reigned, the swirl of grey cloaks and flashing blades a beautiful and deadly sight. But she saw only a slender green-cloaked figure standing alone against the enemy behind them.
“Elbereth, guard him” she whispered under her breath, “Do not let him fall.” She dodged as an orc swung wildly towards her catching the ill-made saber on her own blade and thrust back. It ended quickly, the small diminished band was no match for the elves fighting about their lady.
“Back, quickly! Aid the prince!’ she called, clarion clear in the semi-silence.
The noise within the canyon was deafening.
“Take that you elf-scum!”
Her eyes widened as they turned the bend, dead orcs lay everywhere for the prince had made good use of the narrow passage and among the dead lay a crumpled form, still swathed in the bright green cloak an orc standing over it with a taunting smile.
Celebrian felt rage such as she never had before as she instinctively swung her bow out and shot the leering monster. The still figure stirred awkwardly and managed a smile in her direction.
“Good shot, cousin” he managed to gasp before collapsing again with a groan.
“Legolas!”
There was no reply. Celebrian dashed forwards heedless of the battle about her. She threw herself down next to him and choked. The prince lay still and white, an arrow above his heart and another in his chest.
She shook him gently whispering his name. The bright grey eyes opened for a moment and looked into hers.
“I am glad you are well, Celebrian. Tell your sons that I loved them dearly and that” he broke off gasping desperately for air.
“Tell them yourself Legolas, when we reach Imladris” she said hoarsely. There was a slight shake of the golden head.
“Not this time, I am sorry cousin. I must say farewell. Tell my father and Erynel to…not…grieve…overmuch. I will be with them always.” His eyelids fluttered downwards.
“No, it is not yet your time, stay with me, little cousin” tears were streaming down her cheeks. The greying lips twisted into a wry half-smile, “Do not weep for me. I can think of no better way to fall then defending my kinswomen.” Celebrian blinked back the treacherous tears as her sight grew misty.
“Namarie” the whisper was barely audible as the prince’s eyes closed and he fell back into her arms.
“No! Legolas!” she pleaded, but there was no reply. There would never be another reply until they met again in Valinor. Gone were the twinkling grey eyes, and the gentle laughter, the fair songs and witty jests. Celebrian buried her face in the green cloak and wept.
Only the smile remained, carved forever on the prince’s pale face, joyful in death as he had been in life.
There was a soft touch on her shoulder as the remaining orcs was slain and her guards stood about their lady.
“How badly is the prince wounded?” one asked gently. Celebrian couldn’t reply for a moment, the words sticking in her throat.
“Legolas is dead” she managed at last, her voice shaking. The guard recoiled as though struck.
“Nay, my Lady surely not. The prince had survived worse injuries than an arrow wound.” Celebrian shook her head sadly, “He was stabbed also, several times.”
Reverently Elthain lifted the prince’s body in his arms, the green cloak fluttering madly in the breeze. Gently he unclasped and folded it, laying it on Legolas’s still chest.
It was a sober and weeping party that reached Imladris at last. Elrond and his sons rushed forward at once. They could see a still form in the arms of one of the guards before the silver-haired lady was weeping in her husbands’ arms. She held an unmistakable green cloak clasped to her bosom.
“He is gone.”
Elrond stepped back in dismay.
“Not Legolas!”
There was an inarticulate cry of horror from the twins as they realized what it was that Elthain bore before him. Tears glinting dully on their faces as Elthain gently laid his burden in their arms.
They buried him the next day beneath the greatest of the beech trees in the valley that he had loved. The cloak they kept, safely folded in the great library in remembrance of their friend.
Days passed into years and years into centuries and still the fine green cloak lay carefully kept and untouched by all.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Time may deaden the blow but some wounds cannot be wholly healed. And so it was with Legolas’ death. Thranduil was stricken by his son’s death and though he and his daughter strove valiantly to bury their pain, it was seldom that either smiled or laughed as they had before. The elves of the Greenwood fought more fiercely even than before for Legolas had been beloved of his people and they refused to fail their fallen prince.
The family of Elrond never spoke of it but the pain remained in in their hearts and could not be assuaged for it had been in defense of Celebrian that the prince had fallen.
The elves of the valley were not as light hearted as they had been in the past for many long centuries after. It was with joy that Elrond welcomed Gilraen and her son into his house after the slaying of Arathorn for the innocence of the child was balm to sore hearts.
Estel grew swiftly after the manner of the children of men. His wonder and curiosity outstripping his body he grew. He had just passed his sixth birthday the day that he found the cabinet. It was ancient and worn by both the passage of time and the gentle brush of fingers.
He stood on tip-toe that he might uncover whatever treasure lay within and saw to his surprise only a neatly folded cloak. It was a pretty cloak he decided, forest green with gold needle-work but it was old and used and he wondered at its purpose.
There was soft touch on his shoulder as he peered within, and he turned to find Elladan looking past him with an odd, closed expression on his face.
“Elladan?” quavered the child’s voice, “what is it? What does the cloak mean?”
Elladan looked down tenderly at the boy.
“It is for memory” he said gently, “A dear friend used to wear it long ago.”
“An Elf?” Elladan nodded.
“Why doesn’t he use it? Why keep it here?”
Elladan’s eyes hardened but his anger was not at the child, “He passed long before you were born. He no longer has any need of cloaks.”
Estel looked up solemnly, “You mean he died?”
Elladan’s voice was clipped, “Yes, the orcs slew him as fought to save my mother.”
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Estel thought much upon Elladan’s story, for he was pensive child upon occasion and had lost his own father to the cruel blades of the orcs. He had seen the sad looks that the elves sometimes gave each other and he wondered if they mourned the twins’ friend or some other fallen one.
And sometimes he would slip away and look down at the greenmantle and wonder about its owner. Did he laugh and smile much? What was his name and where did he come from?
He was wandering outside one day two years after he first heard of Elladan’s friend when he caught a glimpse of golden hair as an elf slipped silently into the garden. Excited he leapt forward, for Glorfindel was a kind mentor to the fatherless boy and no other that he had seen had such hair.
“Glorfindel!”
The elf turned at hearing the name and Estel stopped embarrassed before a strange elf in green and brown.
“I am not Glorfindel child” he said in a clear voice, “Though I may walk in his steps.”
Estel frowned, “You what?”
“Do not trouble yourself. Do you know where Lord Elrond is at the moment?”
“I can take you to him” offered Estel eagerly for the elf had an air of mystery and power that intrigued him greatly.
The elf pulled his hood up over his head, casting his face into shadow and nodded his acceptance of Estel’s offer.
“Hannon le, tithen pen, you may call me Legolas.”
They had nearly made it to Elrond’s study when they met the twins.
“Who is your friend?” asked Elrohir looking at the green cloaked stranger.
“He said his name was…”
“Elrohir, Elladan” the twins heard the well-remembered voice cutting him off. Legolas cast back his hood and stood smiling as the brothers stopped paralyzed. He was before them well and whole, his skin glowing with life and health, not pale and cold as they had last seen it.
“Legolas?”
“That was the name you used to call me.”
“How?”
“I must speak with your father, everything will be explained then.”
The twins stood still for another moment before dashing forward and engulfing the prince in a double embrace.
“It is wonderful beyond measure to see you again mellon nin!”
“Have you seen your father yet?” Legolas shook his head, “I returned but a short while ago and I admit to being unsure of how to break it to him.”
Estel tagged along silently listening as his brothers and this Legolas talked about everything that happened over the last couple of centuries, almost as if they had not thought that they would ever see each other again. It was all very confusing to an eight-year old human.
“Father” called Elrohir. Elrond looked at his wife, his son’s voice was quiet but his excitement was barely contained.
“Enter” said Elrond. The door opened and for a moment Elrond and Celebrian were sure that they had somehow strayed into a dream, seeing what they had never hoped to see again, for the twins stood smiling on either side of the golden-haired prince. Only the confused face of Estel assured him them that they looked upon the waking world.
“Legolas?” asked Elrond faintly as Celebrian darted forward and threw her arms about.
“Cousin, are you truly standing here?” Legolas laughed and all her doubts vanished like a puff of smoke.
“Do I seem a dark undead spirit?” he asked laughingly, “I thought I looked mostly the same, but perhaps I was mistaken…”
“No” she returned softly, “You are the same, not like I last saw you in the least.”
“I am sorry” he said gently, “I never meant to bring sorrow to any of you. But for now let out hearts be light for I bring tidings from the West.”
And to Elrond he gave a sealed package which elven lord took eagerly.
“I was sent back, though I do not fully understand why, only that it is the will of the Valar that it should be so. It seems that there is still work for me in Ennor.”
Elrond looked up, his hand resting on his mother’s unopened gift, “There is always work left for us, I rejoice that it should have returned you to us.”
Legolas grinned suddenly, his face seeming almost child-like in its unbridled joy, “Am I so missed then, it always seemed to me that there were those with doubts.”
He mimicked a well-known elven noble, “You are always laughing or singing, ernil nin. Do they not teach gravity in the forest.”
Estel laughed at the imitation, for it was well done and he had received similar reproofs at times. Legolas glanced at the child.
“You must tell me of all that I missed, not the least the newest member of your house when I return. For now, my father and sister have mourned long enough. Look to the forest in the spring.”
“You must stay the night” pleaded Celebrian, “Or at least to dinner.” The prince frowned.
“I thank you Celebrian but I do not wish for the attention, if I come to dinner I will never be allowed to leave. Let me return to my family first. Saes.”
Celebrian nodded, “Hannon le, Legolas, I understand.”
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Legolas wondered often over the doom that had sent him back to Ennor. It gave him much joy that he was once again united with both his father and sister, though the memory of the peace of Valinor was fair and wonderful.
Thranduil and Erynel had been overjoyed when he returned unlooked for. Celebrian had handed back his cloak as he prepared to ride away and he had ridden cloaked to the great gate of the palace.
He had chosen his time well.
Thranduil and Erynel stood together away from the protective embrace of the gates. Though Legolas’ body lay on Imladris they had their own retreat. When Queen Aerlind had sailed Thranduil and his children had built a small arbor near to the gates.
Now silver birches and beeches stood together in the wind, sighing over the loss of prince and queen. Legolas had forgone the gates, hoping to find his remaining family in the queen’s bower and so it had been.
Thranduil turned suddenly, feeling his presence. He stood, his arms encircling his daughter’s protectively as he gazed steadily at the green-cloaked figure before him. He blinked, the cloak was familiar in some way, though it was old and worn.
A stray strand of gold caught the sun and Thranduil remembered, it was Legolas’, he had worn it when he had ridden away for the last time, merry and singing as he promised a quick return.
The silent figure stirred and uncovered his face.
“I am sorry, adar” he said, “I have returned though not as I had expected.” Thranduil and Erynel stood stone-still in surprise and sudden all-consuming hope.
Thranduil searched the face. He knew it, the bright grey eyes, laughing mouth and strong jaw. His son stood before him, alive and well. There was a more brilliant light about him though and his eyes were deeper and wiser, he had look of the light –elves themselves.
Joy, fierce and exultant overtook him as he wrapped his arms about Legolas and held him tightly. He was solid, real. He could feel the strong heart-beat, the blood running through his veins. His son was lost no more.
“How is this possible?” he murmured, “Only Glorfindel has returned thus? Why were you allowed to return?”
Legolas only smiled as he reached out to his sister and drew her close, for only the One could say.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Legolas stood silently, wrapped in a great green cloak as the Fellowship looked last upon the Hidden Valley. Beside him, Estel grown to a man and a king gazed back at the Arwen. He stood amidst hobbits, a dwarf, men and one of the Istari. And he knew at last why he had returned and was glad.
Summary: When Legolas joins Celebrian's train on that fateful journey between Imladris and Lorien history is changed. Now the only hope for a green-cloaked elf lies on his destiny as friend, elven-lord and one of the Nine Walkers.
Warning: Rated PG for death and battle. Also fairly AU, though Tolkien does call Legolas a “strange elf.” Any recognizable quotes and/or characters are of course Tolkien’s own. Elthain, Taldor and Erynel (Legolas’ sister) are mine. Oh, and I believe that Tolkien mentioned somewhere that Celeborn and Thranduil are kinsmen, I have made them cousins.
Lady Celebrian looked back towards the silent figures of the elven guards about her, though they were many and skilled a vague feeling of unease had been steadily growing on her for the past several hours. She wondered if she was the only one or if they felt it also. The air hung oppressive and heavy and it seemed difficult to breathe.
“Lady Celebrian, are you well?”
So preoccupied had she been with the taint in the air that she had not noticed the elf riding up to her. Unlike the guards, dark-haired, grey-cloaked and solemn his hair was a rich gold and he wore a vivid green mantle with gossamer-thin gold trimmings. His face was both handsome and merry and he smiled encouragingly as he looked towards her.
“Does not the air seem heavy cousin?”
He nodded and maneuvered closer until they rode side by side, the lady’s silver hair meeting the gold of his in the wind. They were a fair sight, the gracious and gentle lady of Imladris and the smiling warrior of the Greenwood.
“It is not just the air, methinks there is some menace that clouds my thoughts.” Celebrian turned towards him startled.
“You feel it also.” she said half to herself.
They rode onward with increasing wariness, Legolas warning the elven guard that something seemed to be amiss for both he and the lady were known to have had some measure of foresight in the past. They were passing through a narrow defile when the tiny alarm bells suddenly knelled loud and deep.
The horses raced out from beneath the shadow of the tall escarpments as the band of goblins and orcs could been seen converging behind them. They were many.
The elves spurred their horse on towards the comforting shade of the forest on the outskirts of Imladris. The orcs had not yet reached the gorge when Legolas’ sharp ears caught another sound before them. The orcs before them were fewer in number but it mattered not should they be caught between the forces.
He made his choice in a few moments, focusing on the grey-cloaked elves as he turned his horse. He called the leader of the guards to him.
“Guard the lady” he said sternly, “I will see that no orc slips behind your backs.”
“Ernil nin…” began Taldor. Legolas cut him off swiftly, “The pass is narrow, one may keep many orcs at bay. If it goes ill, Lady Celebrian will need the protection of her guards. May Elbereth keep you.”
Celebrian looked back confused as Legolas rode back.
“Ride on” he called cheerfully, “I will see you in Imladris cousin Celebrian.” And he dashed back into the shadow of the looming precipices.
“Legolas!” she called, and then she too heard the second band of orcs and knew that there was little that could be done. If Legolas could hold the first host off long enough for them to destroy the smaller band all might yet be well.
“Ready your arrows!” she called as they gathered speed and charged down at the orcs, two score when tallied.
Her own light bow was drawn to its limit, her hand shaking ever so slightly.
“Release!” her fingers opened and the shaft pierced the throat of the leader. The elves had a second arrow to their strings in a heartbeat and she shot again. The orcs came too close for the bows and there was a ring of steel as their swords were drawn.
About her chaos reigned, the swirl of grey cloaks and flashing blades a beautiful and deadly sight. But she saw only a slender green-cloaked figure standing alone against the enemy behind them.
“Elbereth, guard him” she whispered under her breath, “Do not let him fall.” She dodged as an orc swung wildly towards her catching the ill-made saber on her own blade and thrust back. It ended quickly, the small diminished band was no match for the elves fighting about their lady.
“Back, quickly! Aid the prince!’ she called, clarion clear in the semi-silence.
The noise within the canyon was deafening.
“Take that you elf-scum!”
Her eyes widened as they turned the bend, dead orcs lay everywhere for the prince had made good use of the narrow passage and among the dead lay a crumpled form, still swathed in the bright green cloak an orc standing over it with a taunting smile.
Celebrian felt rage such as she never had before as she instinctively swung her bow out and shot the leering monster. The still figure stirred awkwardly and managed a smile in her direction.
“Good shot, cousin” he managed to gasp before collapsing again with a groan.
“Legolas!”
There was no reply. Celebrian dashed forwards heedless of the battle about her. She threw herself down next to him and choked. The prince lay still and white, an arrow above his heart and another in his chest.
She shook him gently whispering his name. The bright grey eyes opened for a moment and looked into hers.
“I am glad you are well, Celebrian. Tell your sons that I loved them dearly and that” he broke off gasping desperately for air.
“Tell them yourself Legolas, when we reach Imladris” she said hoarsely. There was a slight shake of the golden head.
“Not this time, I am sorry cousin. I must say farewell. Tell my father and Erynel to…not…grieve…overmuch. I will be with them always.” His eyelids fluttered downwards.
“No, it is not yet your time, stay with me, little cousin” tears were streaming down her cheeks. The greying lips twisted into a wry half-smile, “Do not weep for me. I can think of no better way to fall then defending my kinswomen.” Celebrian blinked back the treacherous tears as her sight grew misty.
“Namarie” the whisper was barely audible as the prince’s eyes closed and he fell back into her arms.
“No! Legolas!” she pleaded, but there was no reply. There would never be another reply until they met again in Valinor. Gone were the twinkling grey eyes, and the gentle laughter, the fair songs and witty jests. Celebrian buried her face in the green cloak and wept.
Only the smile remained, carved forever on the prince’s pale face, joyful in death as he had been in life.
There was a soft touch on her shoulder as the remaining orcs was slain and her guards stood about their lady.
“How badly is the prince wounded?” one asked gently. Celebrian couldn’t reply for a moment, the words sticking in her throat.
“Legolas is dead” she managed at last, her voice shaking. The guard recoiled as though struck.
“Nay, my Lady surely not. The prince had survived worse injuries than an arrow wound.” Celebrian shook her head sadly, “He was stabbed also, several times.”
Reverently Elthain lifted the prince’s body in his arms, the green cloak fluttering madly in the breeze. Gently he unclasped and folded it, laying it on Legolas’s still chest.
It was a sober and weeping party that reached Imladris at last. Elrond and his sons rushed forward at once. They could see a still form in the arms of one of the guards before the silver-haired lady was weeping in her husbands’ arms. She held an unmistakable green cloak clasped to her bosom.
“He is gone.”
Elrond stepped back in dismay.
“Not Legolas!”
There was an inarticulate cry of horror from the twins as they realized what it was that Elthain bore before him. Tears glinting dully on their faces as Elthain gently laid his burden in their arms.
They buried him the next day beneath the greatest of the beech trees in the valley that he had loved. The cloak they kept, safely folded in the great library in remembrance of their friend.
Days passed into years and years into centuries and still the fine green cloak lay carefully kept and untouched by all.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Time may deaden the blow but some wounds cannot be wholly healed. And so it was with Legolas’ death. Thranduil was stricken by his son’s death and though he and his daughter strove valiantly to bury their pain, it was seldom that either smiled or laughed as they had before. The elves of the Greenwood fought more fiercely even than before for Legolas had been beloved of his people and they refused to fail their fallen prince.
The family of Elrond never spoke of it but the pain remained in in their hearts and could not be assuaged for it had been in defense of Celebrian that the prince had fallen.
The elves of the valley were not as light hearted as they had been in the past for many long centuries after. It was with joy that Elrond welcomed Gilraen and her son into his house after the slaying of Arathorn for the innocence of the child was balm to sore hearts.
Estel grew swiftly after the manner of the children of men. His wonder and curiosity outstripping his body he grew. He had just passed his sixth birthday the day that he found the cabinet. It was ancient and worn by both the passage of time and the gentle brush of fingers.
He stood on tip-toe that he might uncover whatever treasure lay within and saw to his surprise only a neatly folded cloak. It was a pretty cloak he decided, forest green with gold needle-work but it was old and used and he wondered at its purpose.
There was soft touch on his shoulder as he peered within, and he turned to find Elladan looking past him with an odd, closed expression on his face.
“Elladan?” quavered the child’s voice, “what is it? What does the cloak mean?”
Elladan looked down tenderly at the boy.
“It is for memory” he said gently, “A dear friend used to wear it long ago.”
“An Elf?” Elladan nodded.
“Why doesn’t he use it? Why keep it here?”
Elladan’s eyes hardened but his anger was not at the child, “He passed long before you were born. He no longer has any need of cloaks.”
Estel looked up solemnly, “You mean he died?”
Elladan’s voice was clipped, “Yes, the orcs slew him as fought to save my mother.”
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Estel thought much upon Elladan’s story, for he was pensive child upon occasion and had lost his own father to the cruel blades of the orcs. He had seen the sad looks that the elves sometimes gave each other and he wondered if they mourned the twins’ friend or some other fallen one.
And sometimes he would slip away and look down at the greenmantle and wonder about its owner. Did he laugh and smile much? What was his name and where did he come from?
He was wandering outside one day two years after he first heard of Elladan’s friend when he caught a glimpse of golden hair as an elf slipped silently into the garden. Excited he leapt forward, for Glorfindel was a kind mentor to the fatherless boy and no other that he had seen had such hair.
“Glorfindel!”
The elf turned at hearing the name and Estel stopped embarrassed before a strange elf in green and brown.
“I am not Glorfindel child” he said in a clear voice, “Though I may walk in his steps.”
Estel frowned, “You what?”
“Do not trouble yourself. Do you know where Lord Elrond is at the moment?”
“I can take you to him” offered Estel eagerly for the elf had an air of mystery and power that intrigued him greatly.
The elf pulled his hood up over his head, casting his face into shadow and nodded his acceptance of Estel’s offer.
“Hannon le, tithen pen, you may call me Legolas.”
They had nearly made it to Elrond’s study when they met the twins.
“Who is your friend?” asked Elrohir looking at the green cloaked stranger.
“He said his name was…”
“Elrohir, Elladan” the twins heard the well-remembered voice cutting him off. Legolas cast back his hood and stood smiling as the brothers stopped paralyzed. He was before them well and whole, his skin glowing with life and health, not pale and cold as they had last seen it.
“Legolas?”
“That was the name you used to call me.”
“How?”
“I must speak with your father, everything will be explained then.”
The twins stood still for another moment before dashing forward and engulfing the prince in a double embrace.
“It is wonderful beyond measure to see you again mellon nin!”
“Have you seen your father yet?” Legolas shook his head, “I returned but a short while ago and I admit to being unsure of how to break it to him.”
Estel tagged along silently listening as his brothers and this Legolas talked about everything that happened over the last couple of centuries, almost as if they had not thought that they would ever see each other again. It was all very confusing to an eight-year old human.
“Father” called Elrohir. Elrond looked at his wife, his son’s voice was quiet but his excitement was barely contained.
“Enter” said Elrond. The door opened and for a moment Elrond and Celebrian were sure that they had somehow strayed into a dream, seeing what they had never hoped to see again, for the twins stood smiling on either side of the golden-haired prince. Only the confused face of Estel assured him them that they looked upon the waking world.
“Legolas?” asked Elrond faintly as Celebrian darted forward and threw her arms about.
“Cousin, are you truly standing here?” Legolas laughed and all her doubts vanished like a puff of smoke.
“Do I seem a dark undead spirit?” he asked laughingly, “I thought I looked mostly the same, but perhaps I was mistaken…”
“No” she returned softly, “You are the same, not like I last saw you in the least.”
“I am sorry” he said gently, “I never meant to bring sorrow to any of you. But for now let out hearts be light for I bring tidings from the West.”
And to Elrond he gave a sealed package which elven lord took eagerly.
“I was sent back, though I do not fully understand why, only that it is the will of the Valar that it should be so. It seems that there is still work for me in Ennor.”
Elrond looked up, his hand resting on his mother’s unopened gift, “There is always work left for us, I rejoice that it should have returned you to us.”
Legolas grinned suddenly, his face seeming almost child-like in its unbridled joy, “Am I so missed then, it always seemed to me that there were those with doubts.”
He mimicked a well-known elven noble, “You are always laughing or singing, ernil nin. Do they not teach gravity in the forest.”
Estel laughed at the imitation, for it was well done and he had received similar reproofs at times. Legolas glanced at the child.
“You must tell me of all that I missed, not the least the newest member of your house when I return. For now, my father and sister have mourned long enough. Look to the forest in the spring.”
“You must stay the night” pleaded Celebrian, “Or at least to dinner.” The prince frowned.
“I thank you Celebrian but I do not wish for the attention, if I come to dinner I will never be allowed to leave. Let me return to my family first. Saes.”
Celebrian nodded, “Hannon le, Legolas, I understand.”
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Legolas wondered often over the doom that had sent him back to Ennor. It gave him much joy that he was once again united with both his father and sister, though the memory of the peace of Valinor was fair and wonderful.
Thranduil and Erynel had been overjoyed when he returned unlooked for. Celebrian had handed back his cloak as he prepared to ride away and he had ridden cloaked to the great gate of the palace.
He had chosen his time well.
Thranduil and Erynel stood together away from the protective embrace of the gates. Though Legolas’ body lay on Imladris they had their own retreat. When Queen Aerlind had sailed Thranduil and his children had built a small arbor near to the gates.
Now silver birches and beeches stood together in the wind, sighing over the loss of prince and queen. Legolas had forgone the gates, hoping to find his remaining family in the queen’s bower and so it had been.
Thranduil turned suddenly, feeling his presence. He stood, his arms encircling his daughter’s protectively as he gazed steadily at the green-cloaked figure before him. He blinked, the cloak was familiar in some way, though it was old and worn.
A stray strand of gold caught the sun and Thranduil remembered, it was Legolas’, he had worn it when he had ridden away for the last time, merry and singing as he promised a quick return.
The silent figure stirred and uncovered his face.
“I am sorry, adar” he said, “I have returned though not as I had expected.” Thranduil and Erynel stood stone-still in surprise and sudden all-consuming hope.
Thranduil searched the face. He knew it, the bright grey eyes, laughing mouth and strong jaw. His son stood before him, alive and well. There was a more brilliant light about him though and his eyes were deeper and wiser, he had look of the light –elves themselves.
Joy, fierce and exultant overtook him as he wrapped his arms about Legolas and held him tightly. He was solid, real. He could feel the strong heart-beat, the blood running through his veins. His son was lost no more.
“How is this possible?” he murmured, “Only Glorfindel has returned thus? Why were you allowed to return?”
Legolas only smiled as he reached out to his sister and drew her close, for only the One could say.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Legolas stood silently, wrapped in a great green cloak as the Fellowship looked last upon the Hidden Valley. Beside him, Estel grown to a man and a king gazed back at the Arwen. He stood amidst hobbits, a dwarf, men and one of the Istari. And he knew at last why he had returned and was glad.