Author's Note: This piece takes place after the timeline of my History of Legolas series and doesn't make sense without that context, so I apologize to those who will find your way in here only to leave because you'd rather not read 100k+ pages of other stories for this one (I cannot blame you!). To those of you who have been looking for follow-ups or a capstone piece … Enjoy. I'll let you speculate on whether or not more is forthcoming.

This Is Home

It was a cool, sunny day on Tol Erëssea. A light breeze traveled over the water of the Havens at Avallónë, through the city, and up the landscape into the forests beyond. The trees delighted in the dancing air and urged it north and west, following the banks of a river until it came to an inlet in the limestone hills from whence a spring came forth. There, the breeze carried the song of the trees to the ears of a an elf, who sat a little ways up the hill next to the spring. He closed his blue eyes and listened to the music of the forest mixing with the babbling water nearby, a smile of peace breaking over his fair face.

It would never cease to amaze Legolas just how whole he felt. The pain of his past – the near-real physical ache of no longer feeling at home in Eryn Lasgalen and the loss of all of his dearest friends – all seemed like a far-off memory to him now. He suspected that there would always be a part of him that missed his mortal friends, most especially Gimli who had passed beyond the circles of the world after their coming to Valinor. But the extent of his healing, and the hope and wholeness he felt in Aman was a blessing unlooked for.

Also unlooked for was the sudden war cry from behind and weight that landed on Legolas' back. He fell forward and cried out in shock as arms wrapped around his shoulders.

"Surprise!" A young voice cried.

Legolas laughed, and in one swift motion he took hold of the small arms and pulled upward over his head, flipping his ten-year-old son into his lap, the elfling laughing gaily the whole way.

"Elvellon," Legolas said with a smile, "I might have known. Tell me, is there a trail of destruction in your wake requiring my attention?"

The elfling's blue eyes sparkled with mischief as he smiled, reminding his father starkly of his elder brother, Hérion. The dark hair Elvellon inherited from his mother nearly sealed the image.

"No," the child replied in a tone belying his answer, "but Great-Grandfather may be looking for me."

"Then I shall not press the matter. My daeradar is a fierce warrior and capable of seeking retribution on his own. However, you did attack your adar, and for that," Legolas said as he began to tickle his son, "there is a price."

"ADA!" Elvellon cried amidst his laughter, "Nooo!" The child thrashed and giggled in Legolas' lap until he was able to squirm free from his father's hands and bounded down the limestone rocks, following the spring until he reached flat ground.

"Come and get me!" He challenged, placing his hands on his hips.

Legolas was about to give chase, but a tug on his mind from behind kept him seated. "There is no need," he replied, feigning disinterest by examining his nails. Elvellon, Legolas sensed, was about to come bounding up the rock faces again when Oropher appeared from behind his grandson. Legolas did not look back, but knew too well the raised eyebrow and set jaw that was sure to be on his grandfather's face as he looked down on his great-grandson, who turned on his heel and sprinted away at full speed, yelling in mock fear.

"Shall I give him a head start, Legolas?" Oropher asked. The younger woodland elf looked up at his grandfather and had to bite his lip to keep from laughing; Oropher was soaking wet.

Elvellon had discovered some weeks ago that if one loosed the threads of a waterskin, it would fall open when dropped. He'd been planning the perfect prank ever since, and had apparently recently succeeded.

Managing to swallow his laughter, Legolas finally plucked up the ability to reply. "If you wish. He appears to be enjoying himself immensely, if that is your aim,"

"Indeed," Oropher replied with grim amusement, "I trust you have taught him to swim?"

"He is quite good at it, in fact."

"Good. He has an appointment with the river."

Legolas let out a bark of laughter as his grandfather sprang away, following the rather ungraceful sounds of Elvellon crashing through the woods.

What an unquenchable spirit Elvellon was, not unlike his uncles Arthion and Hérion, and for that Legolas often found himself thankful that he and Anariel had yet to add another son to their small family. He was rather unsure of how his father had managed two unruly ellon, in addition to the demands of lordship over the Woodland Realm.

"Ada," came a quiet voice from behind him.

Legolas turned and was confronted with a pair of large, expectant, blue eyes belonging to a little elleth with tousled yellow hair. Everything about him in that moment softened as he opened his arms and allowed her to sit in his lap. Legolas brushed some of the loose her hair from her face as he situated her on his leg. The child's face favored Anariel's strongly, but her coloring was all Legolas' except for the freckles that graced her nose and cheeks.

"I told Elvellon not to," she said with gravity. Legolas chuckled and kissed her forehead.

"For which you were wise, Laineth. I suspect Daeradar Oropher will return soon having soundly chastised your brother."

"El dropped a waterskin from up high on Daeradar's head," the six-year-old elleth explained. She paused and bit her lip, trying to hide a smile that was pulling at her lips. "It was open, and got Daeradar all wet," Laineth said finally.

"I saw that. Was Daeradar Oropher angry?"

Laineth pondered this for a moment. "He did not speak. He only looked up to the balcony and saw El and me, and then El ran away."

Legolas hummed, allowing this hilarious scene to come together in his mind. "Elvellon should not have done that. But I imagine it was very funny. Did you laugh?"

His daughter's answer was long in coming. She stared at her father for some time, still chewing on her lower lip as if to keep herself from laughing at what she knew to be a serious infraction, but her radiant smile finally took over her face and she giggled.

"Daeradar Oropher did look really funny," she admitted.

Legolas chuckled as he stood, keeping Laineth in his arms as he rose. "Come, we shall see if Daeradar Oropher has caught up with your brother."

"Ada, is Elvellon in trouble?" Laineth asked, her brow knit in growing concern. Having once been the youngest and familiar with the mischief of older brothers, Legolas could sympathize with his daughter's worry. He and his daughter had similar hearts. The proud father was about to reply when, suddenly, a loud cry rang out in the forest accompanied by a resounding splash.

"Not with Daeradar Oropher, at least," Legolas said, "but I suspect that Naneth will not be pleased when Elvellon returns with wet clothes."

Laineth raised a very serious eyebrow at her father. "Ada," she said sternly, "that is much worse."

NOTES

1. Some of you may have noticed that Elvellon's name is also a title – "elf-friend." I agonized over this for a long time, and in the end I couldn't satisfy myself with any alternative. I decided that Legolas and Anariel would name their firstborn in honor of their departed friends who held the title of elf-friend: Gimli, Aragorn, Bilbo, Frodo, and Sam.

There's a very strict canon laid out by Tolkien in Morgoth's Ring in regards to the naming of Noldor children. I suspect (as others have theorized) that the sundered elves would not have had terribly different naming schemes from one another. Although there's room to suspect that after banning Quenya in his realm, Thingol might have gone farther. We may never know. Anyway, Legolas was a bit of an odd duck as far as his kin were concerned anyway; nearly all of his friends were mortal, who have unique naming traditions of their own. I don't think it's entirely unreasonable that he would have picked up some of their customs, such as naming children in honor of ancestors, relatives, etc.

2. I think that Legolas and Anariel waited until after Legolas' healing to have children, probably sometime after Gimli's death. This story was originally a writing exercise and therefore the timing is left a little vague because when I wrote it I wasn't really sure where it was going. I'm still really not sure.

I write a lot of one-shots for writing practice and because there are just some plot bunnies that won't leave me be until they're out on paper. I thought I was done with The History of Legolas when I finished the last re-write… but as is most often the case, whenever I make plans, God laughs. So stay tuned. In the meantime, reviews and comments on this story are very welcome! Thank you for reading!