Chapter 34.   Namarie, Elessar.

Whether it was by the wish of the Valar, or simply the swiftness of his mount, Legolas cared not, for he considered himself fortunate to have arrived back in Minas Tirith on the morning of the Prince of Gondor’s birth. By the King’s command Legolas and Gimli were privileged to be the only two beings allowed to pass unhindered through the city, and the Elf was grateful for this concession as he quickly made his way to the King’s house. Aragorn welcomed him with open arms, and after a brief word of congratulation to the father followed by a chaste kiss on the cheek for the mother, Legolas found a tiny new life in his arms. He whispered the elvish words of welcome to the newborn prince, completing the ritual with a butterfly touch of his lips to Eldarion’s brow. Aragorn and Arwen beamed with delight as their dearest friend began to sing a soft lullaby to the babe who had begun wriggling restlessly in Legolas’s arms.

“He is just as beautiful as one would expect a child of the Evenstar to be,” he told Arwen as he carefully tucked the now sleeping into the crib Gimli had hand crafted as a gift to the new parents. The Queen blushed at the compliment, and offered her thanks.

“I am impressed with how unafraid you are of my son, that you know he is not as fragile as he appears.” She cast an adoring but long suffering glance in Aragorn’s direction. “It is a testament to your experience with children.” Arwen, covered her mouth with her hand in horror as she belatedly realised her reference to Tathar’s child might cause him pain. “I am so sorry, Legolas…” she began, her words silenced by the gentle touch of an elvish finger to her lips.

“Do not apologise, Arwen and do not be afraid to say what you will. I can not forget Faelas, or the emptiness I still feel at his loss, but I hold nothing but joy in my heart for your enchanting son. I will not let my sadness intrude on your happiness, nor the future friendship I will have with Eldarion.”

“I know, it is just that holding my own son has made me realise the true extent of his loss and how deeply that wound cuts into his very soul,” she said.

“He is likely much healed already, it is several months since he sailed,” said Legolas with a hint of envy. The sea had indeed beckoned to him as he stood beside Thranduil and bid Tathar farewell, but the mysterious Gwael had suddenly appeared at his other side, reminding him it was not yet his time. Once the swan ship disappeared from view, Legolas reluctantly turned his back on what had once again become his heart’s desire.

“And how are you faring, mellon nin?” Aragorn asked as he saw, as only a close friend would, the disquiet and the slight loss of brilliance in the eyes that that held his gaze.

“I am a little hungry, and long for the pleasure of a nice warm bath,” replied Legolas, ignoring Aragorn’s sigh of exasperation.

“That is not what I meant, and well you know it. I was enquiring about your journey to the Havens,” he said, wishing not for the first time that just once the Elf would deign to answer without being deliberately obtuse.

“Aragorn, where are your manners?” demanded Arwen, realising they were being remiss in their duties to their guest. Her husband took the gentle chastisement to heart and bowed to his friend.

“Please forgive me, I will arrange for a bath to be drawn in your chamber and will join you for a meal, and a long conversation once you are fully refreshed.” Legolas smiled at the implied command, and decided to humour the King and obey him, at least in part.

Aragorn left Arwen to rest, and their son in the capable hands of the nurse, and then went to the kitchens to collect the tray he had ordered to be prepared. The kitchen staff was not surprised to see the King amongst them, for during Arwen’s pregnancy he had often been sent to the kitchens at all hours in search of her current craving.  It was, however unusual for him to act as servant to his guest. Aragorn chose to ignore the raised eyebrows, and made his way with the heavily laden tray to Legolas’s chambers where he set the meal up on the small table near the window overlooking the gardens.

“The plants are thriving,” commented the Elf as he stole silently up to stand beside his friend. His hair was still damp, his face slightly flushed from the heat of the water and he wore only a simple tunic and leggings. He looked so comfortable and relaxed that Aragorn decided to dispense with formality and remove his royal robes, leaving him as comfortably attired as his friend albeit not quite as fragrant.

“Aye and all the gardens are truly beautiful,” added Aragorn as he indicated that Legolas should help himself to the food. The King took a few bites of an apple, and then asked his friend for an account of his recent journey.

“There is really not much to tell.  In the few days we were estranged Tathar faded much faster than expected, but although he continued to decline, the process had slowed considerably after our differences were reconciled. We left for the Havens the day after you and Gimli retuned to Minas Tirith., and although Tathar was still quite weak, by the time we left he had begun accepting food, and his spirits were lifted when Adar decided to accompany us.

The trip was long and uneventful except for the many pleasant evenings we three spent around the fire, recounting tales from the past and wondering what awaited us in the Undying Lands. It was an immense relief to Adar and me that Tathar was becoming increasingly eager to make his final journey and when we at last arrived at Mithlond, he was happier than he had been for many years. I suspect he had been fading very slowly ever since his son’s death, but had fought his fate with his need for revenge on the Shadow,” commented Legolas.

“Ai, it seems likely to me as well, I have read of such cases in many of Elrond’s books on healing. So your parting was not too hard on either of you?’ Aragorn surmised.

“Nay it was sad, but knowing we will meet again in years to come made it far easier than we expected.”

“And what of your Adar? Has he decided to sail?” asked Aragorn. Legolas shook his head sadly.

“Tathar asked him that question, but all he would offer in reply was that he was not yet ready to leave Middle-earth,” Legolas told Aragorn with a sigh of exasperation that turned to a frown as his friend burst into laughter. “I fail to see the humour in Adar’s reply,” he said archly.

“Legolas, mellon nin, it amuses me greatly to know that even Elves can become annoyed when given a typically vague elvish answer.” Legolas smiled and conceded the point, then turned the conversation to their absent friend.

“Has Gimli been sent word of Eldarion’s’ birth?” he enquired, hoping that the Dwarf was soon expected in the city.

“I sent a message this morning, but it is not likely he will see it for some time. It was attached to my message of condolence for the passing of Glóin,” replied Aragorn, as he reluctantly gave Legolas the sad news.

“When did this happen? I heard no such news when I was in Eryn Lasgalen,” said Legolas. After they had left Mithlond, he had travelled to his former home with Thranduil and had stayed for several weeks before heading south.

“It was only a few days ago that the eagles bore the sad news to Gimli, then took him home to Erebor to mourn with his kin.” Aragorn told him. “I imagine the news would have reached your Adar in time for him to pay his respects, if he was of a mind to.”

“Adar would have gone in my stead, of that I am certain. Poor Gimli, I wish I could be there for him,” he sighed sadly, silently promising to sing a lament for his friend’s sire when the light of the stars shone at their brightest.

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It was several months before Gimli was next seen in Minas Tirith, and he was amazed to see how attached the Elf had become to the young prince, so much so that he tended to spend more time in the city than he did in the forest.

“Have you lost you love for the trees?” he asked his friend one day as they shared the task of keeping Eldarion amused, or more correctly, keeping small fingers away from the source of the child’s amusement…golden hair and dark beard. Neither Elf nor Dwarf appreciated having their pride and joy torn from their heads by the roots, and a so a constant battle waged between them and the enchanting Prince.

“Sadly it seems I am no longer as totally enthralled by birch and oak as I once was, but it is as Lady Galadriel tried to warn me. They still sing to me, but the song is often drowned out by the pounding of waves. Ouch!” Legolas exclaimed as a small hand entangled itself in his hair and tugged hard. “I will not forget your current mischief when I am teaching you archery in the future, sweet prince. I think it wise not to upset your tutor too much,” he warned. Eldarion merely gurgled happily and as if understanding the Elf, he reached out and pulled hard on Gimli’s beard instead.

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Legolas indeed proved to be a hard but fair task master on the archery range, and he often reminded Eldarion of his ‘hair pulling’ antics as a babe. Nonetheless, the Elf and the Prince developed a strong and affectionate friendship over the years, much to his parent’s delight. Upon reaching his adulthood, Aragorn allowed Eldarion to travel to Imladris with Legolas, to become better acquainted with his elvish kin who remained there, and to learn more of the history of all his forefathers, Elf and Man alike.

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The years passed swiftly, until finally the day arrived when Aragorn paid his final visit to Ithilien. Although his hair was now quite grey, and many lines of age crossed his face, to Legolas he looked as he had the first day they met. The Elf listened with increasing sadness as Aragorn told of his weariness with the world, and his desire to leave before he became a burden on his family and friends.

“I would choose the time of my passing, as is my right,” he told Legolas as they sat at the small haven, and watched their last sunrise together.

“And will you explain to Arwen that I will not travel to Minas Tirith again?” Legolas asked with much sorrow.

“She understands that our farewell is a private matter between you and I, she will not fault you for your absence,” Aragorn assured the Elf.

“Then walk the path we both know you must Aragorn, knowing that you go with my love and affection. You will always have a place in my heart and in my memories,” Legolas said not even attempting to hide his tears of sorrow, nor to dissuade his friend from relinquishing his hold on life. The Elf had always known this day would come and had long ago decided to accept his friend’s decision.

“Your calm acceptance eases my own fears, Legolas. You have ever been my strength, and for that I thank you. Namarie, mellon nin,” whispered Aragorn, as he drew the Elf into a final warm embrace.

“Namarie, King Elessar,” replied Legolas, speaking the formal title that he so rarely used, but that allowed him to place a chaste kiss on his friend’s cheek. With one last shared smile, Aragorn mounted his steed and rode towards his destiny.

Several days later, Legolas was sitting on the wharf, dangling his feet in the water when he almost doubled over with the pain that shot through his heart like an arrow. He took a few moments to catch his breath and was astonished to see Gwael sitting beside him, studying him with his glittering black eyes.

“Your heart aches because King Elessar is no more,” he said with much compassion. “You are no longer bound to stay in Arda, Legolas. Build the ship and sail home.”

“There is still Gimli,” Legolas said shaking his head. "I will not leave him, for he is dear to me as well.”

“Then take him with you, after all he has been given the grace to set foot on shores of the Undying Lands.” Legolas stared at the old man with undisguised astonishment and disbelief.

“How do you know?”

“Olórin, who you know as Mithrandir sent me to tell you of the Valar’s will. The Lady Galadriel sought their grace on his behalf. Build the ship and come home,” Gwael repeated before he vanished as mysteriously as he appeared. Legolas felt greatly relieved that his longing would soon be nothing more than a distant memory and after he had sung a lament for Aragorn’s passing, he walked back to his talan and took the drawings of the ship that Círdan had given to Tathar from its place on the wall and began making plans.

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“You did not attend the King’s funeral,” stated Gimli angrily when he arrived in Ithilien several days later. He and many others, except Arwen and her children had been shocked that the Elf had not been there, and the Dwarf sought an explanation.

“We said our farewell in private, as I had always intended. Arwen knows that I honour him no less because my grief was not on public display,” was all Legolas would say. “Come, Gimli, I have something to show you.” The dwarf followed his friend to the haven where the framework of a small ship was beginning to take shape. “Most of my people have left for Valinor, as you know…”

“Aye, the forest is almost deathly quiet these days.”

“Just so, but I need no longer remain here and so am building a ship, for I wish to sail from the forest that has become my home.” Gimli saw the gleam of delight in the Elf’s eyes and grudgingly agreed to assist.

“Aye I will help you but my heart will not be in the task, for as soon as it is finished you will be gone and I admit that I will miss you and all the aggravation you give me,” grumbled the Dwarf.

“How can you possible miss me when we will be sailing together?” asked Legolas with deliberate casualness that was intended to provoke the Dwarf. It worked well.

“What nonsense do you speak, Elf?” demanded Gimli as he stood with his hands on his hips and glared at Legolas.

“The Lady Galadriel has spoken in your favour and you are to be permitted the singular honour of being the only Dwarf in Valinor,” Legolas told his friend.

“Well, at least one Elf has some respect for me, but I do not know if I wish to live in a land where there are none others than Elves,” Gimli declared gruffly although he was secretly pleased at the prospect of living his remaining years with Legolas and the Lady as his neighbours.

“Do you recall declaring that you had more chance of sailing to Valinor than of learning to climb trees?” Legolas asked in a tone of voice that made the Dwarf wary.

“Aye, I believe I uttered words to that effect,” agreed Gimli dreading where this was leading.

“Then the first thing I will do when we reach the Undying Lands is teach you to do so, and I will hear no further excuses!” teased Legolas as he laughed merrily at the Dwarf’s groan of dismay.