Chapter 9:  reunion

Thranduil stood on the top step of the great entrance to his fortress and waited impatiently. A sentry had announced that the guards escorting Lord Elrond were due to arrive any minute.

Thranduil could barely restrain himself from storming out of the gates and running down the path just to save a few minutes and finally gather his youngest son into his arms again.

A brief sideways glance at Galadhion and Saeron standing beside him showed him that his older sons were just as eager to be reunited with their little brother. Galadhion was shifting from one foot to the other while Saeron tugged at his perfectly fitted tunic one more time.

Many questions raced through his mind, yet they could be answered later. The important thing was to bring his little son back into familiar surroundings and help him cope with what had happened.

Thranduil shuddered at the thought that the boy had maybe been a witness to Elarynia’s death. What damage had his little soul taken and how much changed would he be by having experienced this horror?

Hearing a whistle Thranduil redirected his gaze at the path. He had already released the spell on the great gates. Warriors, guards, citizens and servants were gathered around the entrance; word of the King’s youngest son’s return had spread quickly.

And then Thranduil could see the first riders; two warriors of the Home guard riding behind two from his royal escort. Behind them rode Elrond and next to the Lord of Imladris, an elf he would recognize among thousands - Glorfindel!

When the elves had cleared the path and were just entering the courtyard Thranduil narrowed his eyes. Elrond was clutching Legolas to his chest and the boy had his eyes closed. Thranduil´s gaze travelled to a thick bandage wound around his son’s leg. Thalan had said the injury was not severe so why were Legolas´ eyes closed?

Before the group of elves had come to a standstill, Thranduil, Galadhion and Saeron had descended the steps. Thranduil inclined his head toward the elves from Imladris.

“Lord Elrond, Lord Glorfindel, I welcome you to Eryn Lasgalen. A star shines on the hour of our meeting. My heart sings to see thee.”

The Imladris elves accepted the traditional greeting with a nod of their heads. Seeing that the King’s eyes never left the elfing in his arms Elrond made it short.

“Hail, King Thranduil. Well met.”

Thranduil stepped closer and Elrond transferred the little boy carefully into the outstretched arms of his father.

The guards meeting them halfway had already told them what had happened to the Queen and that the youngest prince had been missing until the Elves from Imladris had found him. Elrond could make a fairly good guess about the feelings that were coursing through Thranduil just now and, as always, he admired the King’s self-restraint.

Surrounded by his older sons Thranduil gently caressed his son’s cheek. The elfling slowly opened his eyes and gazed at his father. It actually needed moments until the child registered who was holding him.

“Ada?” he asked tentatively. The King’s composure snapped as he carefully hugged the lithe body to his chest. “Yes, little one, it’s me!” he breathed. Tears were falling down his cheek, soaking into the fair hair of the boy. Legolas flung his arms around his father’s neck.

A soft cheer could be heard in the formerly silent courtyard and no one minded the emotional display. The elves rejoiced along with their King.

Galadhion and Saeron also had trouble holding in their tears, yet they stood back granting their father this moment of joy.

Elrond and Glorfindel had dismounted and while Thalan ordered a stable hand and a servant to take care of their horses and baggage the two elves looked indulgently at the reunion.

As glad as they were to be able to bring the young prince home, they were equally troubled by what the tragic death of the Queen would mean for the wood elves.

Thranduil had always been a force to be reckoned with and for many centuries he had put the dark powers at Dol Guldûr at bay. Would this change now? Would the King give up his resistance? Would grief claim his will to continue standing strong against the darkness? Elrond looked at Glorfindel and saw the same thoughts mirrored in his friend’s eyes. The answer to these questions would only be known in the future.

After Thranduil had transferred the sleepy elfling into the hands of Thornil he turned back toward his still waiting guests, but not without a last look at the retreating back of the healer.

Smiling Elrond place a hand on the wood elf’s forearm. “Do not worry too much. The injury is not severe, Thranduil. He’s only tired from days of wandering.”

Thranduil nodded absentmindedly and looked at the two elves frowning. “Elrond, Glorfindel, I want to thank you for bringing Legolas back to me. I have many questions but they should wait until after you have rested. Please join me for an informal dinner tonight after you have refreshed yourselves. As glad as I am to have him back we are still in mourning and in no mood for a formal feast.”

Elrond swallowed hard. He could still barely believe that Thranduil´s wife had been killed. He did not know how the King could hold himself upright. He was not sure if he would find this strength if the roles had been reversed.

“We gladly accept your offer,” Glorfindel replied seeing how Elrond was fighting to maintain his composure. There would be time for condolences later. Thranduil nodded curtly and again looked back towards the entrance.

“Now go to your son,” Glorfindel said softly. Thranduil took a deep breath and squeezed Elrond’s and then Glorfindel’s forearm in gratitude before swiftly leaving the courtyard.

After warmly greeting the elves from the other side of the Misty Mountains Galadhion and Saeron excused themselves and hurried after their father. Elrond and Glorfindel did not mind. They understood the brothers’ desire to see their younger sibling and assure themselves that he would be alright.

The courtyard was emptying and the elves from Imladris followed Thalan inside. At least some hope had been restored to the inhabitants of Mirkwood.

…………………………………….

Thranduil looked impatiently at Thornil while the healer was examining his youngest son. He had only reluctantly handed the elfling over because Legolas had started crying the moment he had entered the palace and had not stopped since.

Despite the best efforts of a lovely young healer’s apprentice whom Legolas had liked very much in the past, he continued sobbing. Thornil had reassured him he was fairly sure that it was not pain that was making the boy cry.

The wound on his leg, while still looking red and inflamed, had been treated with skill. There had to be other reasons for the boy’s distress. Thranduil grimaced. Of course Legolas was as traumatized as everyone else and the child was using the only means available to him to release his sorrow.

Apart from the bite wound and the scratches on his lower leg the elfling had no other injuries, yet the bruises on his soul were invisible and would surely be revealed later.

After giving him a light sleeping draught Thornil handed the drowsy boy back into his father’s arms. Thranduil clutched his son to his chest and left the infirmary after thanking the healers for their efforts.

Wandering down the hallway gently holding his son to him he realized that Legolas had quieted and was now almost asleep. Thranduil felt both joy and sorrow simultaneously. The overwhelming joy at having his youngest son back in his arms was balanced by the deep sorrow that it was now his sole responsibility to raise him. His son was young and at just the age when young elves needed both parents the most.

When he reached his room he silently opened the door and smiled at the sight. Galadhion, Saeron or both had already uncovered his bed and started a fire. They had all agreed that Legolas would not be left alone until he had settled back into his home comfortably. Tonight his son would sleep with him.

After stripping off the filthy clothes he wrapped the elfling in his night pyjamas and carefully tucked him in. Legolas did not stir once. After making sure that he was sleeping soundly, he lit a candle and walked toward the door. Before he could leave, the door opened and Saeron slipped inside.

“I will sit with him until you return, Ada. I think Elrond will not mind me missing dinner.” Thranduil smiled at his son and squeezed the younger elf’s arm in gratitude before leaving the room.

…………………………………..

Thranduil pored two glasses of wine for his guests. Galadhion had already opened a new bottle and helped himself. The dinner was over and Thranduil had invited his visitors to accompany him to his private rooms.

As much as Elrond wanted to know what tragedy had befallen the royal family he also was anxious to learn the details. Until now they only knew what the young prince had told them.

After all four elves had settled comfortably into the stuffed chairs arranged around the hearth, Thranduil swirled the red liquid in his glass around before he looked up and turned slightly to face the Master of Imladris who was watching him in turn.

“Elrond, please tell me how you came to be in my woods and how you found my youngest.” He leaned forward slightly and narrowed his eyes in anticipation. Galadhion had stiffened in his chair and was listening intently.

Elrond directed a swift glance at Glorfindel but the warrior did not show any inclination to tell his part of the story. Elrond sighed and leaned back.

“We were on our way back from visiting Lothlórien. I had delivered an antidote to the Galadhrim, which is able to counter several poisons. Using it properly required some training so I travelled there to demonstrate the right procedure.”

Thranduil only raised an eyebrow. Elrond knew that the King would probably demand the new antidote for Mirkwood’s use and made a mental note to deliver the new medicine to him after the efficacy had been confirmed.

Yet the King did not ask for the new medicine, the actual situation was weighing more heavily on him right now.

Elrond took a deep breath and continued. “Heavy rain forced us to leave the path and enter the forest to seek some protection, but after we had gone several more miles the weather changed again and got even worse. We decided to search for shelter and found a cave just at the foot of a mountain. It was in that cave that we came across your son.”

Thranduil nearly choked on the mouthful of wine he had just taken. He had no reason to doubt Elrond’s statements but realized that his son must have covered a great distance while wandering alone in the forest.

When Elrond continued staring at his glass Glorfindel leaned slightly forward and looked at the King intently. “Your son reported that he and Elarynia were attacked by monsters and wolves.”

While Galadhion inhaled sharply Thranduil closed his eyes in horror. He had hoped that his wife had somehow managed to hide the boy before the attack but obviously he had been forced to witness it all.

“He told us that your wife had urged him to run and hide which he obviously did. Thranduil, you have a very brave little elfling,” Glorfindel continued, deliberately trying to soften the horrible truth. Thranduil smiled thinly, yet he accepted the intended comfort nonetheless.

“He was worried that you would be mad at him for getting lost!” the warrior continued after taking another sip.

The King shook his head incredulously. “Silly child…” was all he muttered under his breath.

Elrond suddenly raised his eyes. “Thranduil what happened with Elarynia? Why did the orcs have a chance to attack her and your son and how was it possible that she was...killed?” The healer nearly choked as he said the last word. It seemed so unbelievable, so pointless.

“It was my fault,” Galadhion said softly and Elrond turned to look aghast at the younger elf. He realized that his question had sounded like an accusation.

While the King said nothing, Glorfindel was narrowing his eyes as he gazed at the younger elf. “How could it possibly be your fault, Galadhion?” he asked calmly, his eyes never leaving Tranduil´s son.

Galadhion looked up but gazed at an imaginary spot on the opposite wall. “I was supposed to escort my mother back to the palace, but when we arrived the gathering point the orcs had already attacked. They had given her a deadly wound and Legolas was missing.”

Glorfindel was shaking his head. “But where were the guards from Lorien? They should have…”

“Yes they should have waited,” Thranduil interjected. “They did not, because my wife deemed it safe to travel alone in the forest.”

After the angry words had left his mouth the King lowered his eyes. Again his fury over Elerynia’s mindless decision had overruled his better judgment.

Elrond and Glorfindel had looked at one another, shocked. The whole tragedy had now become clear. So often in their lives they had been forced to accept tragedy because no one had been in position to intercede. But in this case the death of the Queen could so easily have been prevented.

Elrond could well understand the anger of his fellow ruler. He had also often been called overly cautious when it came to the security of his wife and children. This horrific example clearly showed him that he could never be too cautious.

The three Elf-lords talked long into the night but no words could take away the pain or sorrow that was now residing in Mirkwood.

When Elrond and Glorfindel finally departed the next day they hoped that the King of Mirkwood would learn to cope without his queen. Elrond prayed that he would never experience what his long-time friend had to endure. He could not have known that a similar experience would be awaiting him in the not too distant future.

To be continued………..