I should have thought of it before, of course, as soon as I had realised Nestoril was still here, and still lodged in my heart and my fëa, but perhaps I had been too concerned about Legolas, and too busy, but now that my initial panic for my son had subsided, I had time to contemplate the situation in which I found myself.

It was suddenly rather alarming.

When we sailed, when we landed on the far away shores of the Undying Lands, my two sons would be waiting for me. And, if all was as we were meant to think, so would their mother, re-embodied in Valinor after a short period of reflection in the Halls of Mandos.

Of course, our vows had not been eternally binding; until death or ships took us away from each other; there was no denying that had been the case. And my love for her was in the past, now. I had loved, I had grieved, I had moved on... I was sure that if I met her again, she would have the same affectionate, warm remembrance I did, but no more.

I hoped.

'What do you want for supper?' Nestoril asked, interrupting my pondering.

'I don't know; where are those takeaway menus?'

'Honestly, Thranduil! It's hardly healthy…'

'But you cannot be cooking every night; it is surely someone else's turn… and Govon and Legolas are going to be busy… and I do not know how to cook, not really…'

'Pizza, then. With salad and more salad.'

'Very well. Legolas, have you a preference?'

'Vegetable, and garlic bread. Plenty of it.'

'Indeed. One could almost feel sorry for Govon.'

I put the order in by telephone and sat down with Ness, taking her hand.

'While we wait for supper, walk with me in the woods?'

'Really? All right. Let me find my coat.'

I jumped her over the waist-high wall separating the coach house from the woodland and led her amongst the trees. Their trunks glistened pale amongst the dark under-layers of shrub and bramble, the sky above was high and blue, the branches black against the night.

Nestoril's hand in mine was a gentle comfort. I knew what I had to say, what I wanted to say, I simply didn't know how to say it.

So I said it the first way I could; I have always preferred to be direct in speech, if devious in thought.

'Marry me, Ness. Before we sail.'

'What?'

'I love you. You know this. Please? It would make me happy. I will try to be good to you.'

'But isn't it rather sudden?'

'Only if you disregard the fact that we were lovers millennia ago.'

'What about Legolas?'

'He has Govon; why would he mind?'

'His mother, of course! Thranduil, you can't just spring something like this on me…'

I kissed her.

If I'd hoped to silence her, I was mistaken; although her lips were as soft and yielding as ever, as soon as we broke the embrace, she began talking again.

'…we've been apart for too long, and you have too much of your memory missing for it to be right, for it to be a good idea, for it to be fair of me...! Thranduil… What are you thinking?'

'I'm thinking I want to be sure of you, before we sail. After all, I don't know if there might be one who is waiting for you, on the far side of the Sundering Seas.'

'There is no-one, of course! But… Oh. Oh, but there may well be someone waiting for you… Melleth-nin, you don't have to marry me to reassure me, you know. She was the mother of your children, I know how the vows were for you… it will be all right.'

'I still want to marry you. Please, permit me? I know, Ness, you are my eternity, so let me make you my wife.'

She sighed and leaned against me.

'I remember, even if you do not, how she loved you and how you loved her... Let me think about it.'

'All right. But we do not have forever.'

'Yes, we do. We are elves, Thranduil.'

'We are elves who are due to sail in a few weeks.'

'I love you, my dear, I do, it's just…'

'It's just that I have dropped this into your lap when we have only just been reunited. Forgive me. But, please – consider my request?'

'I will think about it. And it is not that I am not flattered… or that I do not want to…'

'Then if it is not that you do not want to, may I take it that you do want to…?'

She gave me a long and lingering look and then turned back towards the coach house.

'Come on. The food will be here soon. And you went to so much trouble, it would be a shame for it to spoil…'

I let the subject lie over supper and during the evening when Thiriston and Canadion joined us. We laid plans, talked about sailing, discussed the best way to go about moving to the port and generally did all we could towards planning our future.

At one point I dialled Triwathon's number and put him on speaker phone.

'It is wonderful, my king, to know you are still here. And our prince? And... everyone?'

It was a tactful way of asking who was with us, for he could not, of course, say the name of any he believed were dead. So Govon announced himself, and Nestoril, Thiriston and Canadion spoke greetings aloud, and after Triwathon had time to acknowledge us all, he paused before continuing, his voice almost shy.

'You will have wondered about your advisor – not Lord Arveldir – but Parvon...?'

'Indeed, yes; in truth, I have missed his counsel,' I said, uniting politeness and truth, for Parvon had been a very good fellow, not as devious as Arveldir but more straightforward; he was just what the new, reformed realm needed after the War of the Ring. 'Have you news of him?'

'He is here. With me... I do not know if you remember, we...'

'Of course I remember,' I said firmly.

'Sire? Can it be you?' Parvon's voice, distorted by the speakers, still somehow sounded emotional. 'We had lost hope, almost...'

'Parvon. You served us well and we are pleased to know you are still safe.'

'If you are in need of my services again, sire, I will gladly come.'

'It is time for us to gather and decide our future. Some of us will sail; you and Triwathon are welcome to share our voyage, if you will. But in the interim, and if you wish it, there is a place for you both here in Leeds; at the very least your organisational skills will be invaluable.'

'This is wonderful news, my king!' Triwathon said. 'Let us have a little time... it is a shock and a joy to know...'

'Of course. Perhaps my secretary can call you tomorrow.'

'Yes, indeed... who will call?'

'Canadion.'

'Ah. Gladly, sire.'

In quiet moments I used the laptop to investigate marriage protocols and special licences and wedding dress shops, emailing the links surreptitiously to Nestoril, who glanced at her phone and quirked her lips at me.

'What's this?' the very curious Canadion asked, peering over her shoulder. 'Oh, that's a pretty gown! Who's getting married?'

'Nobody,' Nestoril said, switching her phone off with a sniff.

'Nobody, indeed!' I said. 'But not for want of asking…'

Nestoril flushed.

'What's this?' Legolas asked with a grin. 'Has he finally decided to ask you, then? Adar, it's about time! You should have done that millennia ago!'

'And who is to say I have not?' I asked, tipping my head back to look at Nestoril from under my eyelashes. 'Perhaps Nestoril just needed a little thinking time?'

'It would be perfect,' Legolas said. 'Govon and I had been hoping for this, back in the days when…'

'You would not object, then?' Ness asked. 'But what about your mother…?'

'She is still my mother, Ness. But the fëa wants what the fëa wants, and Ada's wants you. Do not forget, my Naneth had her chance, my father would have made her his queen, his everything. That she chose not to accept, is her business. Maybe we will get a chance to ask her, maybe not. But I would be happy to see you two married… come, you know what you said this morning? That the things that make me happy are the things that are likely to anchor me…'

'Your father told me I could think about it!' she protested.

'Well, haven't you had long enough?' Canadion asked. 'I want to be your bridesmaid!'

'Oh, well, in that case. Of course I will marry you, Thranduil. Just so that Canadion can be a bridesmaid!'

I reached over to kiss her cheek.

'Ness, I don't care why, just thank you for saying yes.' I glanced around the room. 'I don't suppose any of you have experience of planning a Sixth Age wedding? Canadion. Why am I not surprised?'

'Why do I feel I'm being hurried into this?' Ness asked when we were alone later.

'Because we must sail in less than a month.'

'I'd better hand in my notice, then,' she said lightly.

The next day's work took me around the region again, looking at one museum after another. I saw many interesting places, but no elves except those I took with me in the car.

On the way back to Leeds I called Peters and made an appointment to see him. I say 'appointment'; really, it seemed to be that whatever I needed, whenever I needed it, Peters was only too happy to accommodate my requirements. Or so he said.

'How may I help you today?' he asked as we settled ourselves in his office.

'To begin, the third let will probably be occupied by the end of the week; I thought it a courtesy to keep you informed.'

'I see... well, it is the first time I can remember that all three properties have been in use at once... '

'In fact, it may not be needed for long; a family reunion. Which leads me to ask about good hotels for temporary guests near to Woodford...?'

'There are some, but the better hotels are either in the city or on the outskirts...'

'I see. A list would be helpful. Or if there are any temporary lets near my home. And the reason for the reunion leads me on to my main purpose...'

'Yes, Professor King?'

'I intend getting married. It must be done in haste…'

'Oh, yes?' he said with a blink that suggested he could guess why, his eyes sliding across to rest, in what was meant to be a surreptitious manner, on Canadion's belly.

'Do not make crass assumptions,' I said, obscurely insulted by Peters' casual glances. 'More haste than that, in any case. Within the month, certainly, and the sooner the better. I do not particularly care where, as long as it is done properly and formally. And not to my secretary here, who is married to another, I had expected you to realise that... I will forbear to mention the matter to Thiriston, however, and not least because he is, as you will remember, extremely strong. He is also very protective of his wife and does not have the calmest of tempers... Well?'

'Then... my apologies, of course. And my congratulations... Given the right arrangements; special licence... a word in the right ear, a monetary lining in the right pocket... you can have anywhere, anything you want, if you've got enough money for it.'

'Make whatever arrangements are necessary to expedite the ceremony and let me know the soonest date possible without breaking any laws; all must be proper. My secretary will liaise with you concerning other organisational aspects.'

Because of course it was Canadion whom I asked exactly what was involved, and who talked me through wedding rings and the need for an engagement ring (for the lady), dresses and best men and bridesmaids and giving away and guests and the absolute necessity for bunting; just because one was marrying in haste did not mean it could not be romantic, too, he assured me, and bunting, apparently, was necessary for the right ambience. I decided not to argue.

I wasn't quite sure why it was so desperately important to me to marry Nestoril before we left Middle Earth – yes, it was partly because I wanted her to know I loved her, and my former consort would be no threat to her, to us – and partly for myself. I needed to belong to this amazingly strong elleth who had cared for me and my family in one way and another for so many years, and to own the right to acknowledge my love for her for eternity.

I teased her, of course. I said that, apart from anything else, it seemed like the perfect excuse to gather everyone together, whether they would sail with us or not; it was excellent cover, of sorts, and would make it much easier to discuss leaving and where we would stay while the ship was preparing, and she smiled prettily and reminded me it had been my idea and who was she, a humble healer, to argue with her king...?

Of course, there were many other arrangements to make beside that of the wedding. More elves, just a few, responded to the increased publicity surrounding me, and Canadion, having been diligent in contacting all those we had details for, had also asked those elves if they knew any others, delighting in putting old friends back together. There were some who said at once that they were not eager to sail, but we invited them to the wedding anyway, so that we could at least look at each other one last time, hoping that if we did not pressurise them, they might be more amenable to changing their minds.

It helped that when Triwathon arrived to take up the last of the lets he brought Parvon with him. They seemed highly content with each other, and Parvon lost no time in reinstating himself as my advisor, making himself useful within hours of his arrival.

He and Triwathon had been in loose contact with other Silvans and had put them back in touch with me, resulting in a Saturday morning when I found myself waiting outside the entrance to Woodford as half a dozen refugees from the modern world disembarked from the Merc and looked around them with wondering eyes. There was Celeguel, one of my erstwhile captains, and Amathel, another of my former warriors. Thannor and Langon, whom I knew only slightly, surviving faces from the standing army, Glawon, whom I remembered from the palace and Silevon, one of the few elves who had been born since the world changed.

All wore hats on their long hair and looked out of place against the Merc. Only once Seamus had unloaded their luggage, received orders for his dismissal and driven off and they were able to turn towards the trees did they begin to look anything like comfortable.

'Welcome,' I said, spreading my hands as they bowed. 'And be easy. I am not your ruler now, just your protector, if you would have one. Later, you will all come to my home and we will talk about our plans, but you will wish to know where you will be living, to feel at home first. For the moment, Celeguel and Amathel, you will be guests of Thiriston and Canadion, who have rooms at the top of the building...' I smiled to myself. Thiriston had always made a big show of jealousy, mostly to protect his Canadion, and so giving them female housemates was a sensible decision. Besides, he had taught Amathel the art of knife-throwing and both had worked with Celeguel in the long-ago. 'The rest of you will share the ground floor apartment with Triwathon and Parvon; I do not know what arrangements you may wish to make amongst yourselves, but currently their guest room and their dining room have been set up as twin bedrooms.'

Parvon came forward from my side.

'It is not ideal, but we have lived through worse, and at least we are together and amongst friends. Celeguel, Amathel, let me give charge of our friends over to Triwathon and then I will take you up to Thiriston and Canadion.'

Celeguel approached me as Parvon ushered his charges in.

'Sire, it is a delight to find you well. Is it true, will we sail?'

'I think the time has come when we must,' I said, wondering what I might possibly do to help any who were determined not to. 'But leave that for the moment; we have survived, we are here. All will be well.'

She smiled.

'Sire, it already is well.'

My home was rather full, that night. Merlinith and Araspen were staying for the weekend in the third room in the coach house, and all my existing friends and family, with the addition of six newcomers, made for quite a gathering. After we had broken bread together we decided to go out into the woods with the wine and the lanterns and spend the rest of the evening as we had done in the old, good days after the shadow had lifted.

We spread out amongst the trees and talked softly about our future. To my surprise, there was less resistance to the idea of sailing than I had feared, and so my rough contingency plan – to buy them a wooded estate where they could all congregate and be safe together – looked as if it would not be required. We discussed plans and ended the evening in song, celebrating our reunion and hopeful for the days ahead.

I really had not thought we had done anything wrong, but early in the week Seamus, come to take me home from work, handed me a letter.

'Mr Peters asked me to give you this, my lord. He said it would be quicker than trusting the postal service.'

It was a complaint.

Almost all of the human tenants, it seemed, had taken exception to the recent arrivals and had appended their names to the document. They claimed the new tenants were noisy, dirty, long-haired gay hippies and they had been seen taking part in strange ceremonies in the woods and there was concern that the newcomers were part of a cult. The pre-existing tenants wished to make their displeasure known and it was the property owner's duty to sort this out at once.

Since Peters had also included a copy of the standard tenancy agreement, once I got in I handed the whole lot over to Parvon who rubbed his hands together with glee.

'Oh, thank you, sire!' he said. 'It will be a pleasure to assist you with this matter.'

It must be said I quite enjoyed the ensuing encounters as we progressed from one flat to another to confront the complainants in person; needless to say, the discovery that the owner of the building was one of the alleged noisy, dirty, long-haired gay cultists was a bit of a shock to some.

'There is nothing in the tenancy agreements concerning sexual orientation, hair styles or religious leanings,' Parvon explained. 'The accusation that these persons are dirty is quite slanderous. And as for noisy... I happen to be tenant of the ground floor apartment...'

Here he paused to raise an eyebrow. We were in discussions with the tenants of the flat adjacent to Thiriston's on the top floor. He repeated, verbatim, a conversation between the tenant and a visitor to the third floor flat concerning the purchase of a quantity of illegal substances.

'Now, I think if anyone has entitlement to complain...'

Still, given that they were neighbours to Canadion and Thiriston, who were known to be accidentally vocal in the pursuit of marital pleasures, I did offer to install soundproofing in the disgruntled tenant's apartment in return for which they would cease their nefarious dealings... and asked Parvon to enquire of Adrian's when this particular tenancy was due to end...

One woman, on the second floor, looked rather guilty and invited us in, offered us drinks even.

'Oh, it's nothing personal, really, but I always sign these things,' she said. 'Otherwise you get accused of being on the 'other side', and I don't think they expected anyone to take any notice; the agents never did. So you really own it all, then?'

'Professor King does, indeed, own the building but has only just returned from living away,' Parvon explained. 'The lets have been in the care of an agency...'

'Well, 'care' is an odd word... they do the bare minimum of work and say it's because the building is listed... and they still put up the rents and claim it's to cover the extra costs of maintaining the place! If it was me, I'd wonder where all that money was going...'

'How interesting!' I said. 'I will certainly investigate. Now, as to the particular accusations...'

'I liked the singing,' she said. 'It's very soft... I've always loved Welsh choirs... and no, actually, I don't agree with any of that rubbish on there. The new people are anything but dirty and I love the hair...' She was careful not to look at either me or Parvon as she said this. 'And the lass in the top flat, Candy, the one with the pretty shoes? She's ever so friendly. Always a smile and a nice word.'

I nodded.

'In fact, she is my secretary. Do, please, feel free to contact me personally at the coach house should you have issues with any of the tenants, new or pre-existing; I would be only too happy to assist. Particularly with those who began this petition.'