Disclaimer: I own nothing. I only write for fun, not money.

A/N: Third time must be the charm. Sorry for leaving it so long.

Chapter 1

Thranduil sat in his study, only half listening to the voice of the young elleth reading beside him. His mind returned again to the missive he had received that day from Elrond of Rivendell. There was need of a council. Evil things and evil deeds were increasing in the world. Gandalf and Elrond, ever tireless in their vigilance, sought the advice of all the free peoples. He turned the thing over and over in his mind, sipping on his Dorwinion, the calm tones of his daughters-in-law's reading sweet and soothing. Until something she said made him start.

"To his most great and high majesty, King Thranduil, Dread Lord of the Mirkwood, all honor and greetings . . . "

Thranduil choked a bit on his wine and held up his hand. Athelas stopped and looked at him with a curiosity that had a touch of mirth about it. She was reading to him from a letter sent by her closest friend, Arwen. The firelight and candles cast a friendly glow about the room, deep in the Hall, where they had spent many comfortable hours together.

"I have known Arwen since she was a child, Athelas, and she never said anything so ridiculous in her life!" Thranduil told the smiling elf beside him. Athelas stretched in her chair and laughed softly, something she was much more prone to do these days. The relationship she shared with her father-in-law had always been easy and now it had deepened into a frank and open affection that delighted them both.

He regarded the slender elf beside him affably. Raised as Arwen's companion in Rivendell, Athelas had a serene and reserved nature that suited Legolas well. Happily, her time in Mirkwood had helped her realize that frivolity also had a place in her life, leading her to expose her more playful side. She had settled in well, the duties of Lady of the Hall resting easily on her responsible shoulders. Her consideration of others and ready wit quickly made her many friends in her new home.

"Forgive me, my Dread Liege," a grinning Athelas replied. "I've just always wanted to say that. It sounds so commanding, doesn't it?"

"I don't see you using it on Elrond!" he retorted, putting his cup down beside hers and refilling both. "What does she really say? If it has the word 'majesty' in it, I'll give you half the Mirkwood."

She toasted him with her refilled glass. "She says, 'Give my love to Thranduil and thank him again for all his hospitality on our last visit. We are eager for a chance to reciprocate. Unfortunately, we have no spiders.'"

Thranduil laughed and waved his hand at her. "Well, go on, give me all the news. How many new gowns has she made? Any tidings of her Ranger?"

Athelas skimmed through the letter, frowning near the end. "She speaks vaguely of some trouble in Imladris, and Aragorn has gone on a journey for Gandalf. She seems worried, though she does not say so."

Thranduil sighed. "Yes, I thought she might be. Elrond sent word in his message to me that he's calling a council, and wishes a representative from Mirkwood to attend. I had considered going personally, but I think I must stay. Mirkwood is not safe now, and my place is here, defending my people. What would you say to a trip to Rivendell, my dear? Legolas will attend the council, and you will have time with your beloved Arwen." He smiled at her, "Just don't come home spouting all those 'my lords' and 'my lord kings'. It took us long enough to break you of the habit the first time."

She laughed at that. Rising from her chair she stepped across to him and kissed him on the cheek. "You are so thoughtful, Father. How can I ever thank you?"

"Thank him for what?" Legolas asked, coming into the room. His patrol done, he still carried the scent of the wood on his garments. "What have you wheedled out of him this time, Athelas?" He removed his gloves and stood by the fire for the night was chilly with early autumn. His light hair glinted in the flickering glow, and Athelas felt again a rush of love for him. They had only been married a short time and she still felt a shiver whenever she saw the look in his eyes that told her she was the dearest thing in the world to him.

"You are going to Rivendell." Thranduil told his son, his grey eyes twinkling. "I have been able to convince your wife that it is her duty."

"Rivendell is never a duty to Athelas," Legolas replied pointedly. "Why the need to travel again, Father? I thought you would want me here to help protect Mirkwood." His eyes shone in the firelight, and Thranduil was reminded of the predatory stare of the eagle.

"Elrond and Gandalf believe the Evil One is gaining strength. There are rumours." He looked at his son levelly, all jest suddenly gone from his voice. "About the Ring."

Athelas drew in her breath and sank back in her chair. Legolas' face instantly became a mask of calm. She recognized it as his way of keeping his anxiety concealed. From himself as much as the others.

"It has come, then." The Prince's voice was steady. "What are your instructions regarding this council?" he asked his father. Athelas got up and poured him a glass of wine. He noticed the slight tremble in her hand as he took it. He drank it as Thranduil outlined his wishes.

"You will do what you think best, Legolas. I trust your judgement as I trust my own. I will miss you here, but whatever aid we can give at this time is imperative. Only remember that we have our own foes. Do not over commit our forces in your enthusiasm."

Legolas nodded with a steady determination. He handed the cup to Athelas. Thranduil was surprised to see the girl lay her hand on his son's arm. Legolas covered it with his own and held it. Then he realized she had been raised by Elrond, her childhood full of tales of the Enemy.

"When do we leave?" Legolas asked simply. Thranduil could tell by the set of Legolas' jaw that he was prepared to depart that moment, if asked. Not only a dutiful son, he had a courage that would have made any father proud. He felt an ache of love for this child, the image of himself but with so many of the attributes of his mother.

"In a few days. Athelas must have time to pack her finery," he joked. Athelas tried to look pert but failed and went back to her chair silently, worry creasing her brow.

"We may be gone some time, Father." Legolas said, settling into his own seat and regarding his sire. "Will you require anything of me before I go?"

Thranduil pushed away the worry that bit at him. "Yes. Let me spend some time with you before you set out." Legolas smiled at him. The bonds between father and son were deep, much deeper than many supposed, especially since the death of Legolas' mother. Thranduil, bluff, hot tempered and jovial by turns may have been seen as the opposite of his reticent and sardonic son, but the character of both was marked by the great love they bore each other.

Thranduil looked at his son with open affection and Athelas rose, making her excuses to them both. She went to her rooms and changed quickly into nightwear, then sat down and brushed out her long dark hair. When she had finished, she sat down at the small harp in the corner and began to play softly to herself. Trying to distract herself, she became busy with a new descant and did not notice when Legolas entered the room.

"It's beautiful," he told her. She smiled up at him, trying to hide the worry in her eyes.

"I believe your judgement is biased, Legolas. It is passable. With practice, though . . . " she sighed and began to stand up. He held out his hand to her, palm up, stopping her.

"Play for me," he told her, sitting down opposite her. "I would have a song. It has been too long since I had the pleasure of hearing your voice."

She looked at him through lowered lashes and then softly began to sing. He was startled by her choice. It was an old lay about a lover lost in the Last Alliance. Her voice was low and mournful.

Thranduil, passing by their door, heard the singing, and felt a tug at his heart. They were both so young, he thought, and so in love. He sent up a silent prayer that Elrond's suspicions were wrong and that life would continue as it was, without the Enemy destroying all that was good in the world. Knowing in his heart it was wishful thinking, he sighed heavily and made his way to his own chambers.

Legolas crossed the room and took her into his arms. "What made you think of that song, beloved? It was enough to make one weep."

She looked at him, silent, with only the nameless terror in her eyes.

Later that night, Legolas pulled Athelas to his chest. She was not asleep, although she was much calmer than she had been earlier. She sighed gently, and curled against him, seeking comfort as much as giving it. Tendrils of his light hair mingled with her dark tresses, and she idly played with both.

"Legolas? What is it?" she asked softly. She reached up and tenderly ran a finger across his cheek. He caught her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist.

"I was thinking," he told her simply, wrapping his arms around her.

"Yes, I gathered that," she teased. "What keeps you from your rest?"

"Nothing that needs worry you," he said quietly. "Are you more peaceful now?"

She ran a hand down his arm. "Yes," she told him. "It was just such a shock to hear your father state things so bluntly. I was being forced to face something I had half-convinced myself didn't exist. Will you forgive my cowardice, my lord?" she asked, almost in earnest.

He gazed down at her, and she caught the glint of the embers in the fireplace in his eyes. "Yes," he said, lightly. "You can sleep. Your secrets are safe with me."

She closed her eyes, and lay her head on his chest. "Thank you, Legolas." He rested his hand on her head, and lay staring into the darkness.

Athelas kept busy over the next few days, ordering the preparations for their journey and settling things for their absence. Her duties kept her from dwelling on the terror she had felt. She had resolved to never let herself give in to that horror again. As she sorted through the clothes she would take, her companion, Nimeth, came in carrying Athelas needlework packed into a small case. Athelas hugged her fondly. "I doubt I shall have time for it, dear one," she told the girl. "But it is kind of you to think of it."

"I know that you are never happy without some bit of work nearby, Lady. It weighs little and will be a comfort to you should the need arise."

Athelas laughed and put the case with her other belongings. "You know my friend, the Lady Arwen, Nimeth, and you may trust that she will keep me too busy for any fancy work."

Legolas and Thranduil spent some days and nights alone in the Mirkwood. They returned, gravely concerned about the changes taking place in their world. Yet they had both been comforted by that short time together. Both understood the implications in Elrond's summons. The Elven King gave Legolas his permission to undertake anything that would help Elrond and Gandalf. Legolas, as serious as ever, had pledged to do just that.

On the day of their departure, Athelas looked longingly at the horse loaded with their baggage and then down at her own travel clothes. "Trousers," she said wearily to Nimeth and Laernis. "I shan't be really comfortable again until Imladris." She sighed and pulled on her gloves as Laernis held her brown cloak. She gave her weapons one last check, making sure the knife in her boot was loose in its sheath. As they waited for Legolas to bring their horses up, Thranduil came and hugged her.

"Come back to us soon, Athelas. I shall miss your wit while you are away," he told her, his eyes twinkling.

"My heart shall not be light until I am with you again, Dread Lord," she told him, kissing his cheek.

"Saucy girl," he replied, a wide grin on his face. "Your heart shall be merry the moment you step foot in Imladris. Do not forget to give my love to Arwen."

"Never would I forget a request of yours, my king," she said, dropping a low curtsey before him.

"Legolas!" Thranduil called to his son. "You had better be on your way. Her Rivendell manners are already beginning to return!"

Legolas laughed as he led their mounts to the small group of people. He passed the reins to Thranduil, knowing his levity masked deeper feelings. He gripped his father's shoulder and was pulled into a rough hug. Startled, he returned the embrace. "Come back to me, my boy." Thranduil whispered harshly, his voice choked with emotion.

"I will, Father." Legolas told him. Thranduil let him go after a long moment and Legolas turned to Athelas. She had put on her cloak and he helped her onto her horse. She arranged the velvet folds as he swung onto his own mount. Tying the leading rein of the baggage horse to his saddle, he nodded to Athelas. With a wave, they were off. Thranduil watched after them for a while before he turned to Laernis.

"That's that," he said quietly. "Come, Laernis, let's have a cup of wine to their good journey." They went back inside the Hall of the Elven King.

As Legolas and Athelas rode, their talk turned to Gandalf. Both elves had many fond memories of the wizard and they shared them over the journey.

"I cannot remember a time when he did not come to Rivendell," Athelas said, the recollection bringing a smile to her face. "As a child I remember he was always kind, always willing to listen to the most ridiculous story as though it was truth."

Legolas looked at her with mock horror. "You do not mean to tell me that you and Arwen told fibs to Gandalf?" he asked her, his eyes dancing.

"All the time," she answered facetiously, her bright eyes sparkling back at him. "What I meant is that you could take a flower to Gandalf and spend hours telling him everything you knew about it, where you had found it, what sort of soil it grew in, what you were doing when you found it, and he would act as if it were all new to him. Then he would tell you something else about it, with such patience."

Legolas nodded, his childhood memories of Gandalf including the same feeling. "Whenever he came to the Mirkwood, it seemed that he brought excitement with him. Gandalf meant something was afoot, and though Father would grow grim sometimes, as a child I always thought of Gandalf as the beginning of some new adventure." He smiled at the thought of the tall figure in the battered hat. "I think I still do."

"Your father becoming grim must have been something to see!" Athelas chuckled.

Legolas' laugh rang out. "Oh yes, Father in a pet is talked about throughout the lands! But Gandalf knew exactly how to calm him down. I remember that before the day was out, Father was ordering things precisely as Gandalf had suggested."

"He always seemed to have the time to just sit and talk. With that pipe!" she continued. "He and Lord Elrond would talk for days without interruption. Arwen and I would be captivated. He has been everywhere, seen so much."

"It will be good to see him again," Legolas said, looking at the dappled sunshine on the forest floor. "I have a feeling that his is the voice behind this summons."

They were both careful not to speak of their real reason for this journey. They would not admit that the cold terror of Sauron had begun to creep into their hearts. They fought it down, trying to forget for a little while the peril the world was in.