After the fall of the Dark Tower and the passing of Sauron the Shadow was lifted from the hearts of all who opposed him, but fear and despair fell upon his servants and allies. Three times Lorien had been assailed from Dol Guldur, but besides the valour of the elven people of that land, the power that dwelt there was too great for any to overcome, unless Sauron had come there himself. Though grievous harm was done to the fair woods on the borders, the assaults were driven back; and when the Shadow passed, Celeborn came forth and led the host of Lorien over Anduin in many boats. They took Dol Guldur, and Galadriel threw down its walls and laid bare its pits, and the forest was cleansed.

In the North also there had been war and evil. The realm of Thranduil was invaded, and there was long battle under the trees and great ruin of fire; but in the end Thranduil had the victory. And on the day of the New Year of the Elves, Celeborn and Thranduil met in the midst of the forest; and they renamed Mirkwood Eryn Lasgalen, The Wood of Greenleaves. Thranduil took all the northern region as far as the mountains that rise in the forest for his realm; and Celeborn took all the southern wood below the Narrows, and named it East Lorien; all the wide forest between was given to the Beornings and the Woodmen. But after the passing of Galadriel in a few years Celeborn grew weary of his realm and went to Imladris to dwell with the sons of Elrond. In the Greenwood the Silvan Elves remained untroubled, but in Lorien there lingered sadly only a few of its former people, and there was no longer light or song in Caras Galadhon. - Return of the King: Appendix B

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You are my beloved son. My little elfling. I have watched you fall and rise again - but always you shall stumble once more. I helped you up, brushed the dirt off your knees - and let you climb higher than before. When you grew - my love did too. You are my light, my shining star, and I shall care for you forever more.

I comforted you through the rain storms, which had you shaking in fear. I held you close to me when you first felt the pains of loosing someone dear. I would tuck you into bed, and fluff the pillow under your head. You are my beloved son. My little elfling. And I love you.

You grew taller and stronger... and I watched as you went into battle, only to come back covered in grime and gore. I told you I was proud of you as I held you tightly in my arms. I whispered words of a fathers love softly in your ears as your wounds were bandaged and the pain of war wrecked havoc upon your fears. Ah - my little elfling... I too, have fears. I fear that one day you shall ride out to battle and never again will I be able to hold you close and tell you I am proud of you. My little elfling. My beloved son.

When you came to me one day and told me, "I am going to marry her." I held you close, kissed your head and told you how proud I was. I am always proud of you. My beloved son. My little elfling...

You went off to war. You left your home. I didn't get the chance to hold you. To tell you I was proud of you. I wasn't going to be there, to pick you up when you fell. I wouldn't be there to comfort you through the storms. Ah - my little elf. I wish you back here. I wish to hold you close and whisper in your ear my love for you, my son. But I am proud of you. My little elfling. And I love you.

An immortal should not view the passing of time as a mortal does. A year is supposed to be a fleeting moment. But it was not. You were not home. You were not with me. And I have never had a more lonely time in my life. I prayed that you were safe - although I knew you were not. I prayed that you were in good health - but with your luck, I couldn't count on it. I begged that you would come home... and I knew you would. Because you always have. You always will. And if not, than I shall go to you - my little elfling. My beloved son.

The war was over. We had won. I wept with joy... for news came to me that you were safe. You were well. And I sent my message back. I am proud of you - my little elfling. My beloved son.

We renamed our home, my elfling. Celeborn wished for it to merely be restored as Greenwood. Greenwood the Great. But I opposed. I am proud of you, my little elfling. And I will always tell you I am. So we named Mirkwood, the Forest of Greenleaves. It is named after you - my beloved Legolas. My little Greenleaf.

I am proud of you. I love you. I always shall.

When you came home to me, and you bowed - I felt anger. Betrayal. Pain.

Between us, there are no formalities, my beloved son. We are father. We are son. We are not king nor prince.

So I picked you up. I brushed the dirt off your knees. And I pulled you close to me.

You are my little elfling. You are my beloved son.


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