Chapter 25   Separation

Tathar and the King’s Guard had been ordered to escort Legolas back to Imladris and the young warrior decided to use their time together on the journey to make one last attempt to dissuade Legolas from his chosen path. It was a task that was doomed to failure for Legolas would not be swayed and all Tathar succeeded in doing was to drive a wedge between them. Legolas’s stubborn refusal to listen eventually angered him so much that Tathar made the mistake of accusing the son of having no feelings for the heartache he was causing his Adar.

After declaring that he had no intention of breaking the vows they had made after Faelas had died, even if Tathar did, Legolas had stormed off in anger, leaving a distraught Elf, stunned by the words that tore open his grieving heart, sitting alone by the fire. It had taken several days before they would even look at each other let alone speak, and there was so much animosity in the air that the Guards of the escort kept a watchful eye on the pair from a discrete distance, ever ready to intervene if the rift became too heated.

In the end it was the strength of their love and friendship that drew them back together, for neither could bear to see the other in so much pain. They first used words to heal the hurts they had inflicted and then they had spent the night sharing a bed roll as brothers might; talking and crying and finally laughing. By morning Tathar had agreed to fully support Legolas’s decision and to do what he could to ease Thranduil’s fear for his son. The prince in turn agreed to write a farewell letter to Thranduil that he was promised the King would only see if Legolas entered the Halls of Waiting.

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Tathar lay sprawled across the bed in Legolas’s chamber, propping himself up on his elbows, an open the copy of “The Last Alliance” that Elrond had thoughtfully left on the bedside table for Legolas, in his hands.  He had chosen to wait here while his friend made his report on orc activity to Lord Elrond, and accepted his place in the Fellowship. When Legolas finally entered the room, he at first did not believe his friend was actually reading, but after several unsuccessful attempts to gain his attention, he had to admit that Tathar was thoroughly absorbed in the book.

“Tathar!” he called, this time directly into a pointed ear.

“There is no need to shout, Legolas. What do you want?” he demanded irritably, not because of the loud voice in his ear but because he had been startled into dropping the book, hence losing his place.

“Your attention for a few moments,” was the indignant reply.

“Very well, but you interrupted me when I was reading a really fascinating part,” he said sullenly.

“I admit to beginning to wonder whether you had forgotten how to read, but apparently you can, and I am pleased you have finally decided to broaden your knowledge of history,” the prince teased.

“You should be grateful that I am, for I now understand your reasons for being on the quest so much better,” he said as he flicked through the pages until he found the page dealing with Oropher agreeing to the need for a united stand against Sauron that he had been reading and marked the place with a dried leaf that had floated into the room on the soft breeze. “I take it Lord Elrond was happy with your decision?” he asked now giving Legolas his full attention.

“Ai, but you will never believe who he has chosen to represent the Dwarves,” he paused for effect. “Gimli, son of Glóin!” Tathar burst into laughter.

“That is priceless, is it not? The sons of two who have a somewhat unpleasant history are now to be comrades in arms. I did not realise Lord Elrond had such a sense of humour,” he said as he continued to laugh uncontrollably.

“Surely you are not suggesting he chose that particular Dwarf to be part of such an important quest just to spite Adar?” Legolas was wide eyed with disbelief.

“Nay, I am certain the son of Glóin has been deemed the most suitable of his folk to accompany you… it is just a very amusing coincidence,” said Tathar with a serious edge to his voice.

“Amusing?” enquired Legolas incredulously, not impressed with the thought of travelling with the Dwarf. “Do you also find this amusing?” he asked as, with a wicked grin and his usual deadly aim, he threw a pillow that collided squarely with Tathar’s smiling face. With a swift movement, he easily ducked the pillow that came his way in retaliation and the silent challenge was accepted. Allowing a brief truce until Tathar had carefully put the precious tome out of harm’s way, the War of the Pillows then raged furiously until both warriors collapsed in a laughing heap on the bed.

“I believe we could both use some rest,” a breathless Legolas told Tathar as he plucked a stray feather from his friend’s hair.

“Indeed I am quite weary now and we are leaving for Mirkwood tomorrow after the noon meal.  Would you mind if I borrowed the book on the off chance that sleep eludes me this night?” Tathar asked almost timidly.

“Not at all,” replied Legolas with a smirk that spoke eloquently of his delight in taunting his friend over his new found interest. Tathar picked up the volume and stopped halfway through the arch that led to their shared terrace, gazing sadly at his young companion for a moment longer, and then he was gone.

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 As he readied himself for bed, Legolas realised that he had not yet written the letter to Thranduil as ha had promised. He cast a longing look at the mussed sheets and the scattered pillows, then lit the candle at the desk and sat down to write.

My beloved Adar,  

Tathar has promised to give you this letter should I pass into the Halls of Waiting, and since you are reading it, I must have done so. I am sorry to leave you this way; I can only hope I died bravely and that you are as proud of me as I am to be your son.  

I know it is pointless to ask you not to grieve, and even now my eyes fill with tears at the thought of the pain reading this must be causing you, but I wanted to make certain you  know that I realise how much you love me and how deeply bound we are in spirit. Cry for me, grieve for me, but I beg of you do not allow yourself to fade… do not make my death a vain sacrifice.

I have not the words to tell you how much I love both you and Nana, and I hope that you will be reunited one day… please consider sailing West for I believe you will find happiness there just as Nana has. If you do, please  give this letter to her so that she also knows how much I cherish you both.  

Please watch over Tathar, and help him as I am certain he will help you.  

I love you dearly Adar. Those words are so easy to write but I am sorry, I find I do not have the strength in my heart to tell you goodbye…I do not wish to leave you.  

You are forever in my heart,  

Legolas

Tears streamed uncontrollably from his eyes, blurring his vision as he placed the letter in the envelope and he fervently begged the Valar that the seal would never need be broken.

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The mood was sombre the next day as the Mirkwood Elves readied themselves for the trip home. In honour of his Adar, and to the delight of the King’s Guard, Legolas chose to bid them farewell wearing his formal robes and his circlet of office. They bowed respectfully to the Prince, and then moved away so that he and Tathar could have a last moment together.

“When do you leave on the quest?” Tathar knew this would be the first question Thranduil would ask him when he arrived back in Mirkwood.

“As soon as Elrond’s sons return, they are expected within the next few weeks,” replied Legolas his eyes bright with tears as the moment of final separation was upon him.

“I will miss you, mellon nin,” declared Tathar tenderly.

“As I will miss you, mellon nin,” whispered Legolas. “Here is the letter and please take care of Adar for me,” he said, handing the ivory coloured envelope to his friend.  Tathar nodded his understanding.

“I will, though it may drive him to distraction… which might be a good idea, all things considered,” he said grinning wickedly. Legolas managed a half smile and Tathar swiftly became more serious as he sensed his friend was not in the mood for jesting. “It will give me great pleasure to help you burn this on your return to Mirkwood, my dear Legolas,” he said embracing the younger Elf fiercely for a brief moment then quickly releasing him, leaving the warmth of a chaste kiss on his cheek. “May the Valar send you back to us soon.”

Legolas had never felt more alone as he watched his friends until they rode across the bridge and disappeared out of sight.