Chapter 28   The Return Home

Once again the trees of Mirkwood, now known as Eryn Lasgalen, whispered a song of welcome for one of the returning children of starlight.  As he walked slowly on his way towards his home, Legolas listened sadly to the slightly discordant melody, its sweetness marred by the many missing voices that had been lost during the war. As the forest fell silent, Legolas softly raised his voice in return, but although he tried to sing only of happiness, part of him longed to be elsewhere. The lure of the sea now veiled his heart and he no longer felt fully content among the trees. His song finished with a melancholy sigh for what he knew he had lost.

A heartbeat later the forest was filled with merry laughter and shouts of welcome as Tathar and any other Elf who had heard their Prince’s arrival surrounded him, forcing him to stop and exchange kisses, embraces and words of welcome. Legolas was overwhelmed with the enthusiasm with which he was greeted, and feared he would drown in the sea of love until he was rescued by the one he wished to see more than anyone else.

“Adar!” he shouted joyfully as he was swept up into strong arms and twirled around as if he was still a very young Elf.

“My Legolas!” replied Thranduil as he bestowed kisses on the beloved face whose eyes were as bright with unshed tears as his own. Thranduil held his son at arm’s length for a moment, and satisfied he has suffering no injury, drew him back into the warmth of his embrace. Legolas rested his head against Thranduil’s shoulder and exchanged an affectionate glance with Tathar, who winked mischievously.

“Legolas, I am pleased to see you return, for I found having to take care of your Adar to be a rather trying task, at times. You would be most distressed at some of the tales I could tell,” he said unsuccessfully keeping a serious tone of voice. Thranduil raised an eyebrow at the remark, and responded in kind.

“My son, the next time you decide to leave on an adventure, I demand you take Tathar with you. It seems you are the only one who can control him,” he declared facetiously.

Legolas started slightly at his Adar’s words, for he already planned to do exactly as he the King demanded. He had promised Aragorn that he would return and help with the restoration of the gardens of Minas Tirith and the forest of Ithilien, and he fully intended that Tathar should join him. Both his Adar and his friend sensed Legolas’s fleeting change to a more sombre demeanour, but it was gone as quickly as it had come.

“I promise, Adar,” he replied meekly before allowing his amusement to turn into silvery laughter. “Is there to be a feast tonight? I have missed our merrymaking under the stars,” he told Thranduil whose delighted laughter echoed through the trees.

“Do you suppose that the King would let such an occasion pass without preparing a celebration?” Tariel asked as she pried Legolas loose from Thranduil’s possessive arms and lovingly embraced the young Elf. “I see your Dwarf friend did not accompany you,” she whispered in his ear, surprising Legolas with her words.

“Nay, Gimli preferred to head straight on to Erebor,” he replied. “I think he was afraid of Adar.” he added conspiratorially. Tariel laughed merrily, nodding her head in understanding. She knew Legolas spoke in jest by the fondness in his voice as he mentioned the Dwarf’s name.

“Come, Legolas. I see our patrols have already begun the merrymaking,” said Tathar as he pointed to the large group of warriors in the clearing where the feast was to be held. All had goblets of wine in their hands, and were raising them in a toast to their prince. Legolas, Tathar and Thranduil joined them, and after he acknowledged the toast, Legolas offered one in return to his friends for their valour in protecting their home against the Dark Lord and the courageous victory they had won.

As the Elves settled into a large circle, some sitting cross legged on the grass while others rested against each other, Legolas was prevailed upon to relate his account of his adventures since leaving Imladris. As he wove his tale the group became even larger until nearly every Elf who resided in the heartland was listening with fascination to the story.

Thranduil sat quietly to one side, hardly daring to take his eyes from his son lest he turned out to be merely a dream. As he listened to Legolas speak of Aragorn, he realised how close his son and the mortal King had become. Even though was prepared to accept the friendship existed,  he still did not approve, but he almost choked on his wine when Legolas told of his love and affection for the Dwarf…Glóin’s son, no less. This was a friendship that Thranduil could not even contemplate accepting for he held all Dwarves to be untrustworthy and arrogant.  The burst of laughter that followed after Legolas had described the competition in which he and Gimli had engaged, did little to improve his opinion, and he flushed with embarrassment as he heard his son being teased mercilessly, especially by Tathar, for letting the Dwarf win the tally. Legolas had a totally different reaction, and took it all with good humour.

The prince’s interest then turned to the fortunes of his own people and he asked to be told how Mirkwood had fared in his absence. He had been fortunate in that he had already heard of the routing of the remaining minions of Sauron and the division of Greenwood from Celeborn when he arrived for Arwen and Aragorn’s wedding, but he wanted to hear more about the battle that had decimated his beloved forest and taken the lives of many of his comrades.

Finally all tales were told, and Legolas excused himself, declaring that he needed to bathe before he could even contemplate dancing with the fair maidens. The laughter this statement evoked confused him until Tathar pointed out that the bathing chamber was the first place Thranduil visited on his return from the borders.

“Then I am in no better company, if I am to be likened to my Adar,” Legolas replied proudly and sincerely as he stood and offered Thranduil a helping hand to rise. Obviously he wanted some time alone with the King so his son’s assistance was readily accepted, and he linked arms with Legolas as they walked towards the royal apartments.

“Come to my chamber when you have finished your bath, we have much to discuss,” Thranduil told Legolas as he opened the door to his son’s chamber and ushered him inside.

“We can talk while I bathe, Adar,” suggested Legolas, surprised when Thranduil declined.

“Nay, we will meet shortly in my study, as always, but for now I need to speak with Tariel about the feast, and I will organise a tray of refreshments while I am in the kitchen,” he explained. Legolas nodded acceptance and decided to bathe quickly, so eager was he to spend some time with his Adar.

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Legolas looked about the small study, and was delighted to see it remained exactly as he remembered. He sat back in his armchair, relaxing in the comfortable familiarity and smiled as Thranduil affectionately stroked his cheek as he handed his son a cup of wine before sitting in the chair opposite.

“I would hear the tale of your part in the Fellowship,” said the King. The request came as no surprise, even though Legolas knew his Adar had already heard it this afternoon. The account he gave this time was on a far more personal level, telling of the range of emotions he experienced as events drastically altered the nature of their journey.

Thranduil listened without comment, his heart aching as Legolas told of his grief at the ‘loss’ of Mithrandir, and Boromir’s death. He smiled as the younger Elf spoke of the joy of life displayed by the Hobbits, for he was quite fond of old Bilbo and he was glad that his son had met such courageous members of that folk. His eyes reflected his son’s sorrow as Legolas told of the grievous loss of Gimli’s kin at Moria; of  the suffering of the people of Rohan as their King was taken over by Saruman, and the death of so many in the battles he faced, and he felt the young warrior’s hatred of war and all that it entailed. 

The King’s face darkened with dread as Legolas spoke of his strong friendships with Aragorn and Gimli, and whilst he did not understand his son’s love for these two, he knew it was not unlike that which he felt for Tathar. Like all Elves, when Legolas chose to love or hate, he did so with every fibre of his heart and soul.

“And what of your strange friendship with the Dwarf? Aragorn I have learned to respect, but you know I can not abide the folk from Erebor,” stated Thranduil candidly.

“Gimli is an honourable and fine warrior. I admit that at times he is a little arrogant, but beneath his gruff exterior beats the heart of a true friend. I ask you not to judge him too harshly until you have at least met him,” urged Legolas.

“If it means so much to you, then I will do as you ask,” agreed Thranduil. He was convinced meeting the Dwarf would not change his opinion of his kind, but he could not refuse such a heartfelt request from his son.

“That is all I ask, but here is one more thing I need to tell you Adar,” he said, gazing directly into Thranduil’s eyes. The King gasped as he recognised the far away longing that once filled Elisiel’s eyes and now shone freely from their son’s.

“You have heard the call of the sea,” he whispered sadly. Legolas nodded then moved to sit at his Adar’s side, resting his head on his knees as he had done whenever he sought comfort as a child.

“Have you come to say farewell?” Thranduil managed to ask as he caressed the golden silk of his son’s hair.

“Nay, I can not leave yet. I made a promise to Aragorn that I would stay until his days were ended, and to that I will hold. I will remain in Arda, but I wish to move to Ithilien, to restore it as much as possible before I  take sail,” he said, knowing his words would likely be painful for Thranduil to hear, and wishing it were otherwise.

“Then perhaps I should be grateful that you are so fond of the mortal, if your love for him keeps you here longer,” replied the elder Elf with a weak attempt at humour. Legolas looked up and smiled sadly.

“It is not that far from here, and you and Lord Celeborn are engaged in the task restoring your realms. I thought it only fair to give such a gift to the new King,” he explained, trying to make their coming separation easier to bear.

“Ai, it would indeed be a well received gesture, a legacy for the Men to remember us by long after the Elves have all left these shores, or faded into myth,” agreed Thranduil. “I imagine that many of your friends will wish to join you, and no doubt you expect Tathar to be one of them?”

“I have yet to ask him, but I know he will readily agree to accompany me,” replied Legolas with well founded faith in his friend. The sound of elvish harps filtered through the open doorway, interrupting the conversation with a sweet melody that invited them to join in the festivities.

“Come, it would be most impolite for the one who was being honoured not to attend his own feast,” said Thranduil as he stood, and drew Legolas into a final embrace and spoke softly into his ear. “Tomorrow I will begin helping you plan your move to Ithilien.”

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Long after the merrymaking was ended and most of the Elves, including Thranduil had retired for the evening, Legolas and Tathar still remained sitting beneath one of the trees that bordered the clearing, talking about all that had occurred while they had been forced to go their separate ways. As the last embers of the fire around which they had danced the night away began to fade Tathar took Legolas by the hand and led him to the faintly glowing coals.

“There is something I must do, something that I have longed to do ever since I accepted the responsibility for this task,” said Tathar. Legolas raised an eyebrow in silent query, his question quickly answered as his friend drew an ivory coloured parchment packet from his inside his tunic and placed it on the coals.

“I thank the Valar that this is to be burned rather than read,” Legolas said with heartfelt relief as he watched the missive intended for Thranduil dissolve into flames. As the two friends watched, small red sparks and black ashes drifted upwards into the pale light of dawn and soon vanished.

“He would have faded, had he received this, as would have I,” said Tathar in a tender declaration of his love for his friend.

“Then it is well that I returned, but I am not the Elf who left here,” said Legolas sadly, looking for the words to tell Tathar of the changes Pelargir had wrought. When he finally managed to say them, Tathar was as shocked as Thranduil had been to learn that the gulls had called his friend home, and he hoped that Legolas could resist the longing until his vow to Aragorn was fulfilled. The mention of the new King of Gondor finally allowed the conversation to turn to his plans for Ithilien, and Legolas had barely finished explaining his ideas for a new colony when Tathar spoke up.

 “I think we should share a talan when we move there, just like brothers might,” said Tathar, becoming excited at the prospect. “Of course, since I am the elder, I will expect the best view,” he teased.

“I have not even invited you to join me in Ithilien,” declared Legolas with mock indignation.

“I do not need an invitation, you have already promised the King you would take me on your next adventure, and I know you are an Elf of your word,” Tathar pointed out with a wicked grin.

“Well, I certainly do not intend to break a promise made to Adar, so I suppose you can come,” agreed Legolas. “And since you are the elder, I believe it is your place to tell him the rest of the news.”

 “What news?” asked a suddenly very wary Tathar. Legolas had an evil gleam in his eye.

 “Why the news that we will be travelling south with the Dwarves moving to Aglarond with Gimli, of course,” stated Legolas as if the fact was obvious. He laughed merrily at the astonished look on Tathar’s face. There would certainly be interesting times ahead.