Part 12:  The King Returns

Legolas and the others had moved a discreet distance away from the grieving parents to allow them privacy, and were now sitting in a small clearing, Tathar’s patrol listening in horror as the events of that fateful day were described to them in far greater detail than had been given to most of Mirkwood.

“The foolish young ones, such a terrible way to pay for their mistakes,” said Tathar’s second shaking his head sorrowfully.

“Ai,” agreed one of the others, “but there is no doubt they fought and died as warriors.” Many heads nodded in silent agreement.

“How is Mirieth coping, Legolas? She looks quite pale and but a shadow of herself to my eyes,” commented. Peldir, Tathar’s second. He and his wife were also friends of Tathar and Mirieth.

“I hope she will fare better now that Tathar has returned, but I fear she may yet succumb to her grief,” he answered sadly.

“We have a long journey before us, perhaps I should brew her some tea. Lord Elrond gave me some herbs that he says eases heartache,” offered the Healer’s son, who was also a member of Tathar’s patrol.

“Then I hope he gave you enough for us all,” said one of Legolas’s warriors as he stood and began collecting small twigs and branches to build the fire. Soon a large pot of sweet smelling herbal tea was made, and the Elves drank the brew, sitting in silent contemplation as they waited for Tathar and Mirieth to join them.

“The tea smells delicious, may I have some?” asked Mirieth as she approached the group on her own. The Healer’s son quickly handed her a mug of the brew, informing her that it would make her feel a little stronger. Mirieth smiled her thanks and sat on the grass beside Peldir, but directed her words to Legolas who was seated slightly in front of them, his eyes fixed on Tathar.

“Legolas, Tathar would like a private word with you,” she said softly as she gently squeezed his hand to gain his attention.

“Of course,” he said as he stood and slowly made his way across the clearing to where his friend was now seated beneath one of the trees.  The two seconds exchanged a meaningful glance, and directed their attention to their leaders, both ready to intervene if needed. Neither knew what form Tathar’s grief would take, but it was not uncommon for such deeply felt sorrow to turn to misplaced anger.

Legolas blamed himself for Faelas’s death, and he was certain Tathar would as well. He was not sure of what kind of reception he would receive from his friend, if indeed they still were friends, so he simply sat beside the grief stricken Elf and waited patiently for him to speak.

“Tell me everything that happened, Legolas,” whispered the distraught Adar locking eyes with those that were as haunted with almost as much grief and sorrow as his own. Legolas did not flinch from the gaze, and quickly explained the events of the day, his heart lightened by the spark of amusement that flashed for an instant in Tathar’s eyes as he was told of Legolas’s threat to have Faelas placed under guard.

“I should have done as I threatened rather than merely having him watched from afar, for then none of this would have happened,” said Legolas with anger at himself for his own inaction, and looking away as his grief was replaced with guilt.

“Mirieth also said her fist thought was that you should have done so, but she has come to realise you are not at fault. Faelas is… was… my son,” said Tathar, choking on the words. “He was very much like me in temperament, as you well know. I assure you, even had you placed him in the dungeons he would have found a way to escape.”

“That may be, but I was ruling in Adar’s absence, and was responsible for whatever happened in Mirkwood,” replied Legolas refusing to accept the comfort offered in Tathar’s words.

“Spoken like a true King, but I fail to see how you can hold yourself responsible for Faelas’s behaviour or blame yourself for his passing, when neither Mirieth nor I do. I am grateful that you did the best you could to protect my son, and for the love and friendship you shared with him.”

“Faelas was not. In fact we parted on very unfriendly terms, and were never given the chance to make amends,” said Legolas, unable to keep the tears of anguish from his eyes.

“I am certain it was merely his anger speaking, he loved you too much to let such a small disagreement break the bonds of friendship,” said Tathar with much compassion for his friend.

“My heart tells me that it is so, and had he obeyed me, I expect we would probably have been laughing at the whole incident at the evening meal,” sighed Legolas wearily, having more to say but finding it difficult to continue. “There are details of that day that Mirieth, and many others have not yet heard, nor will they for it is not a pleasant tale, but I will tell you if you wish to hear it.”

“Ai, I did not think Mirieth knew the whole truth, but I would hear it, no matter how painful,” said Tathar grimly. Legolas told him the details of the battle he and his warriors had joined, of the carnage in the village, and the courage and sorrow of the Elves as they performed the heartbreaking burial.

“It was I who found Faelas, fallen across Gilbard’s body, with several arrows in his chest. He must have been defending our friend, and taken the arrows meant for him. There was a dead orc nearby, with Faelas’s arrow through his skull, and a blood stained knife in his hand. I think he must have been the one who killed Gilbard,” Legolas said, for the first time really assessing the battle scene.

“Was Faelas alive when you found him?” Tathar managed to ask, needing to hear as much about his son’s last moments as possible. Legolas could do naught but shake his head as the painful memory tore at his heart.

“A brave, but disobedient warrior was my son,” said Tathar through his tears.  “Mellon nin, you should not have had to bear such heartache on your own,” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around his friend.

“It is nothing compared to yours,” said Legolas as he rested his head on Tathar’s shoulder in a gesture of affection that was a reminder of their younger days when the two friends had often sat in contented companionship beneath the stars, talking and singing and with no more cares than deciding which maid to dance with.

 “I know how comforting it is to be held in strong arms, to have someone there to share the grief, and the tears. Had Thranduil not been there, I may not have survived the pain,” admitted Tathar.

“How is Adar?” asked Legolas, momentarily envying his friend for having received the comfort he also needed. “I assume his business with the White Council kept him from returning home?”

“Ai, he said you would understand but I am certain he would rather have left with us. Do you also know what happened to Faelas’s young friends?” asked Tathar, quickly returning the conversation to the attack on the village.

 “The two with him fell defending a group of children, but I have not the heart to describe that atrocity, other than to say that the foul creatures spared no-one, not even the babes,” he said with hatred in his voice more intense than Tathar had ever heard before.

“Then you and I must make a pact… whenever we come across a band of these minions of evil, we will be certain to leave none of them alive!” declared Tathar, taking Legolas’s arm in the warrior’s grip.

“Agreed!” replied Legolas, gripping Tathar’s arm in return. Across the glade, the two seconds smiled with relief, and echoed their leaders’ gestures.

“I do not wish to add to your grief, but there is something else you should know, mellon nin,” Legolas said before he and Tathar walked over to join the others. Tathar raised his eyebrow in query. “Mirieth is not well. Even your warriors have noted the change in her. Your presence is only reason she is here rather than still abed in your chambers. We had to travel slowly due to her weakened condition,” Legolas said sadly.

“I felt something amiss, has the Healer attended her?” Tathar asked, his concern for his wife pushing his grief aside for the moment.

“Ai, he thinks she is beginning to fade, that the grief of her loss is too much to bear. I am so sorry, mellon nin. Perhaps she will recover now that you are returned.” Legolas tried to sound hopeful, but knew both the Healer and Tariel were convinced it would not be long before Mirieth sought the sanctuary of Valinor.

“I am sure she will, have no fear, Legolas,” replied Tathar reassuringly. They walked back to join the others and as soon as he was close to his wife, Tathar reached for Mirieth’s hand and drew her into his arms, giving her what strength he could.

“If you feel refreshed, Mirieth, I think it is time we returned home,” he said.

“May I suggest that we return to Imladris, to escort the King back to Mirkwood when he is ready to leave?” asked one of the King’s guards.

“Do you not trust the guard Imladris will surely provide in our absence?” asked Legolas as he looked to Tathar to answer for his warriors.

“It is not a matter of trust, but a matter of duty. It is our duty to escort the King when he travels, and since you have your own guard, I see no reason for his not to see to his safety,” replied Tathar.

“In other words, you do not think Lord Elrond’s warriors are capable of protecting Adar,” teased Legolas.

“Not as well as the Elves of Mirkwood can, no,” said Tathar with pride.

“But you will not go, will you Tathar?” asked Mirieth, suddenly looking very pale.

“Nay, he will be escorting no one but you, Mirieth,” said Legolas in his most regal voice. “The rest of your patrol may return to escort Adar, and should he question your reappearance, tell him that you were sent by royal command,” Legolas told Peldir with a mischievous wink.

“I doubt that even I would dare to speak such impertinence to the King!” exclaimed Tathar, with the barest hint of a smile at the astonished look on his second’s face.

For the first time in many weeks, the sound of silvery elvish laughter rang through the trees.

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Once the White Council had finally adjourned, Elrond assigned his sons to lead the party that was to escort Thranduil back to Mirkwood. They had already completed the passage through the Misty Mountains when the Mirkwood warriors met them and as Legolas had assumed he would, the King asked for an explanation as to why his guard had returned. Thranduil tried to scowl with disapproval, rather than smile at his son’s impudence but failed miserably, he was far too relieved to know that Legolas was in reasonably good spirits.

“I think we should make haste to return to Mirkwood, before I no longer have a realm to rule,” he declared, deciding to add his own humour to the situation, his words causing amused glances to be exchanged between his guards and the escorts from Imladris.

“I thank you for seeing to our King’s safety, but we will take charge of that duty now,” Peldir said politely, offering Elladan and Elrohir a respectful bow.

“It was our honour to do so,” replied Elladan, bowing in return and relinquishing the King to his own guard.

“I also thank you for your assistance, and wish you to know that you are welcome to visit Mirkwood, even in these troubled times,” offered Thranduil generously.

“We will be pleased to do so, should the opportunity arise,” replied Elrohir.

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The morning audience session was almost at an end when Legolas received word that Thranduil’s party had returned, yet, as anxious as he was to speak with his Adar, he nonetheless returned his attention to the matters at hand. He listened patiently to the last petitioner, agreeing finally to his request just as Thranduil entered his Hall and strode purposefully up to his son.

“Legolas, I hardly recognised you. I thought you had ‘lost’ that piece of jewellery many years ago,” he teased, pointing to the thin silver circlet Legolas wore as befit his current status. Legolas self consciously touched the circlet, and smiled affectionately at his Adar’s unusual greeting in front of the many Elves who were present.

“No, it has seen quite a bit of use recently, but I will gladly return it to its hiding place now that you have returned,” he answered, quickly stepping down from the throne and indicating Thranduil should resume his seat.

“Have you not forgotten something?” asked the King as he noticed his Steward had discreetly cleared the Hall. Legolas noticed too and wasted not another second before he fell into his Adar’s open arms and let his tears flow once more. Thranduil held him until his grief was spent, and then released him with a tender kiss to his brow.

“Now, tell me everything that has happened,” said Thranduil, sitting on the steps leading to the throne and indicting for Legolas to do likewise. Legolas felt an enormous sense of relief as his words flowed, and the one who knew him best listened with both his ears and his heart.

“The weight of responsibility is such a huge burden, I did not really understand until these past weeks just how hard it must be for you, Adar. I can not tell you how deeply I regret having made it even more difficult for you by my and Tathar’s rebellious behaviour over the years. I am so sorry,” said Legolas sincerely.

“You need not apologise for being who you are, Legolas. All young ones must test their limits at some time. I am only sorry you had to learn the burden of leadership in such a terrible way,” replied Thranduil as he looked at the shadows that had grown much longer since he had arrived. “We have been here for hours, and now I must go and speak with Tariel. Perhaps you should go for a walk in the woods before the evening meal? The trees are whispering a sweet song that will ease your heart.”

“Ai, I would like that,” agreed Legolas, quickly embracing Thranduil again, and kissing his cheek before he left the Hall.

He returned several hours later and was surprised to find that Thranduil had ordered a feast for that evening.

“Adar, I do not think this is the time for merrymaking,” he said with concern.

“I see you have not yet learned all there is to being a ruler,” replied Thranduil enigmatically as they took their places at the head table. He did not elaborate further during the meal, which was excellent as always, although enjoyed in rather a subdued manner by all. Finally the tables were cleared and the King rose to address his people.

“My friends, a terrible tragedy has occurred recently, but I remind you that Faelas and his friends are not the only warriors who have gone to the Halls of Mandos. The shadow that haunts our forest has taken others, and we will sing a lament for them all, but let this be the last tine it is necessary,” he said with the fire of determination in his eyes as he directed his last word to the warriors, who raised their glasses in agreement. Then, to everyone’s surprise, he began to sing, in a soft, sad voice, and before long many sweet, melancholy voices were added to the lament. As the final notes faded into the night, Thranduil stood and walked to where Tariel was sitting, and offered his hand.

“If you would, my lady?” he asked, returning her knowing smile as she accepted his offer.

“Ai, Your Majesty, this is EXACTLY what is needed,” she whispered happily.

As he led her to the dance floor, the musicians began playing one of the lively tunes favoured by the Woodland Realm, and soon the Hall was filled with the sounds of joy rather than sadness.