Disclaimer: Not mine.

AN: This chapter was really not meant to take so long, but RL got in the way, so… *shakes head* At any rate, here it is at last.

Many thanks to Ohtar Vicky, Thranduils Heart And Soul, Escape my reality, ShaolinQueen, fanpainter, mikinyet, Silivren Tinu, Ocean's Nocturne of the COCA, awaylaughingonafastcamel, Cushion, Calril and sokkergurl for reviewing the last chapter.

Chapter 26: Answers

Legolas stumbled to his feet, head whirling. He could not believe it – he did not want to believe it. The thought of living without his mother was terrible enough in itself, but to dwell in Middle-earth without either of his parents seemed unthinkable. Somehow the possibility that his father might want to sail had never entered his mind.

He walked, without quite knowing where.

A few minutes later he found himself in the garden. Every tree and shrub in it had been planted by his mother. It gave him an odd kind of comfort to be there. It almost seemed, as he sank to the ground beneath a gnarled old oak and shut his eyes, that he could hear her voice.

Elladan, deciding that Legolas had been sitting under the tree by himself long enough, dropped to the ground with a faint thump. Had Legolas been himself, he would have known of Elladan's presence the moment his feet touched the grass. As it was, he did not turn, or even stir.

For a moment Elladan stood watching him.

Then he seated himself on the ground beside Legolas, prodding his arm with a stray twig to get his attention.

Questioning eyes were turned on him.

"I thought you would be happier here," Elladan said softly. "And you were, yesterday. What happened, Elfling? It is not like you to be sitting under the trees moping instead of getting your breakfast, especially after an early round of sparring."

Legolas smiled slightly.

"How long have you been following me?"

"All morning. Elrohir was in your room, but since you, with blatant disregard for the unfortunate Elves trying to keep you safe, declined to use the door, and since he could not jump from the balcony without alerting you to his presence, I had to take over. I was waiting outside in case of just such an eventuality."

The younger Elf rolled his eyes.

"I can look after myself."

"Humour us," Elladan said, patting Legolas' shoulder. "And tell me what worries you."

There was a moment's silence.

"Legolas?" Elladan prodded.

"Do you think my father will sail?"

Elladan, at first, was shocked into speechlessness. When he finally found his tongue, he asked, "What made you think of such a thing?"

Legolas hesitated. At last he said, "He is unhappy."

"He is," Elladan agreed gently. "And perhaps he will never again be as happy as he once was. But that does not mean he will not know any happiness in Middle-earth. I have heard it said that his spirits have been lifted by your return. And anyone can see that he finds both comfort and joy in your presence."

"There may be greater comfort in the Blessed Realm."

"There is peace there, Elfling, but I do not know if there is always consolation. And your father would find even the peace hollow in the absence of all he loves. I do not think he will sail."

"He thought of it."

Elladan's eyebrows went up, but he did not ask how Legolas knew that.

"Perhaps he did. If so, he has certainly changed his mind now… You know I saw him, Elfling, in that terrible hour shortly after your mother's death, when we all believed we were going to lose you as well. He grieves for your mother, but I do not believe you know how grateful he is for your life. He will not do anything that will make you unhappy."

"I cannot bear the thought of losing him," Legolas said in a small voice, "but I do not want to force him to stay if he wants to go."

"Thranduil, I must speak to you."

The Elven-king paused in the act of opening his study door, fixing Arbellason with a questioning glance. He had not been down to lunch – he had spoken to Legolas briefly after breakfast, but there had not been time for more than a few words and a quick hug before he had been summoned away for some work while Legolas went riding with his friends.

"Is something wrong?"

Arbellason indicated that they should enter the study. Thranduil went in, held the door open for his friend, and then repeated his question.

"Nothing is wrong," Arbellason responded. "I only wanted to tell you that I plan to put Legolas back on regular patrol duty next week."

For a moment the Elven-king could not believe what he was hearing.

"You plan –"

"Yes."

"My son –"

"Your son."

"Patrol duty?"

"Nothing very rigorous or dangerous to begin with. But I do not want him to sit here moping and doubting himself and his skill as a warrior. The sooner he returns to his duties, the better for him. He needs it, Thranduil. And he will be in no danger."

"But – if something happens –"

"He will be fine."

"He is all I have left!"

"Thranduil," Arbellason said gravely, "I know how scared you must be, but I promise you, he will be in no danger. The forest is safe. There will be plenty of other Elves with him – I will warn them not to leave him alone, and I will not send anywhere more than an hour's ride away. You must let me do this."

"Please – you cannot – not so soon. Not when there is no real need for warriors."

"Would you rather have him stay within your walls until there is a real need for warriors, and then ride out to meet the danger untrained? Thranduil, while you are our king, he is our prince. He is young, but the time will come when he will be expected to command the archers and take his place as your heir – not by me or by Thorontur or even by the Council, but by your people. You cannot protect him forever."

Thranduil squared his shoulders and raised his head.

"Do it, then," he said, his voice steady. "Do it – only – do not send him very far. Not yet."

Arbellason laid a hand on his shoulder.

"I understand."

"Have you seen Legolas?"

Thorontur shot his friend a curious glance.

"He was at breakfast with his friends. I have not seen him since then – I did not see him at lunch or dinner. I thought he must be with you."

Thranduil shook his head.

"I have not spoken to him all day. I have a feeling he is avoiding me."

"Do not be absurd."

"He is," the Elven-king insisted. "And I do not know why."

Thranduil looked so woebegone that Thorontur, with a soft laugh, got to his feet and threw open the door. He pointed his friend in the direction of the passage.

"Let us go and find him."

"I know where he is."

Thorontur stared.

"You know where he is?"

"Of course," Thranduil replied, slightly impatiently. "The boy may have corrupted all the trees and most of the Elves, but I can still locate my son in my own palace. He is in the garden."

"Then why are you standing here talking to me? Go and ask him why he is avoiding you."

"But what if he does not want to talk to me?"

"Honestly, Thranduil!" Thorontur snapped. "Legolas, at least, is still little more than a child, but you are an adult Elf who ought to have more sense than this!" He saw his friend's stricken face, and went on, with a sigh, more gently, "Thranduil, all this time Lindariel ensured that the two of you stayed on talking terms. You and Legolas both have a tendency not to speak of things that worry you – but you will have to learn to speak of them now, at least to your son. Now come."

Thorontur had shoved him outdoors, but Thranduil did not quite know what to do. It was ironic, he thought wryly, that after having longed for his son's presence for so long, he should not know what to say now that Legolas was here.

He padded silently out to the tree beneath which Legolas sat. It was a measure of the young Elf's distraction that he did not notice his father's arrival: normally he would have known as soon as Thranduil stepped outside. His throat tight, wishing, not for the first time, that Lindariel were there to tell him what to do, Thranduil dropped to the ground next to Legolas and slipped an arm around him.

"My king," Legolas murmured without turning. His eyes were glimmering with tears.

"You should not be out here," Thranduil said softly. "You have not yet recovered, and the nights grow cold."

"I am fine."

Thranduil smiled despite himself. It appeared that some things would never change. With a shake of his head, he shrugged off his cloak and slipped it around Legolas' shoulders.

"If you are going to sit outdoors, at least wrap up warmly." Legolas bowed his head. Thranduil thought he heard a muffled sob. "It was not your fault, Legolas."

"But it was my fault," Legolas whispered. "If I had –"

"No," Thranduil interrupted sharply. "It was not your fault. I never want to hear you saying such a thing again. Do you understand me, Legolas?"

"But –"

"Legolas!" Legolas flinched at the tone, and Thranduil, with a sigh, went on more gently. "It was truly not your fault, Legolas. It grieves me immeasurably to see you blaming yourself. You do not know how much I love you." Legolas, with another choking sob, flung his arms around his father and snuggled up to him as though seeking comfort. "Please, Legolas, at least for the sake of my peace of mind. You must accept that you are not to blame."

"I have missed you, Ada."

"I know," Thranduil responded, deciding to ignore Legolas' evasion. "Shall we go inside? You will not recover unless you rest."

Legolas shook his head, tightening his arms around his father. Thranduil frowned.

"What is wrong, tithen pen?"

"I do not want to go to bed."

"Why not?"

"I... I had... bad dreams."

Thranduil rubbed his son's shoulder gently.

"I know, penneth. I know it is difficult. It is no wonder that you are having nightmares after having seen so much. But you must sleep. I will sit with you tonight, and I will make certain you do not have bad dreams."

Legolas seemed on the verge of protesting, but Thranduil tugged him to his feet.

"Come, Elfling. The healers will never let me hear the end of it if I let you stay out here any longer."

They went indoors together. In silence they mounted the stairs to the royal quarters, Legolas staring ahead of him with unseeing eyes and Thranduil uncertain what to say. Somewhere in the distance, voices began to sing in the slow, gentle melody of a lament. Legolas shivered.

When they came to the door to Thranduil's apartments, Legolas paused.

"I will be fine, Ada. You do not have to sit with me."

The Elven-king looked at his son closely. Whatever Legolas was, he was obviously not 'fine', but he wore a determined, stubborn expression that Thranduil knew from long experience.

Not knowing what else to do, Thranduil drew his son into the room, murmuring, "I have a gift for you, Legolas."

He pushed Legolas into a chair and slipped out. He returned a moment later with a long, cloth-wrapped bundle, which he laid in his son's hands. Legolas turned it over, looking slightly puzzled.

"What –"

"Open it."

Slowly, Legolas untied the strings holding the wrapping in place. It fell open to reveal a longbow, shaped and carved with loving care, polished until the wood gleamed dully in the lamplight. For a moment the young Elf stared at it as though unable to believe his eyes.

"I have never done this before," Thranduil mumbled apologetically. "If the balance is not right –"

"It is perfect."

Thranduil's breath caught. Before he had time to say anything, Legolas was in his arms, hugging him with all the unabashed affection of the Elfling he had once been, and Thranduil was hugging him back almost fiercely.

"I cannot keep all sorrow from you," he whispered, "no matter how much I wish I could. But I will do my best… We will miss her, Legolas, and we will never stop wishing she were here." He drew back a little. "If I could do anything to bring Lindariel back, I would. But since I cannot, and since I must now learn to live without her, I am more thankful than I can say that she has at least left me something to remember her by." Thranduil hesitated. "She loved you, Legolas – she loved you more than anything else in the world… As do I. I promise you, I will not leave Middle-earth while you are in it."

Legolas stared.

"How did you know?"

"I am your father, penneth. I knew."

"But – the trees said –"

Legolas broke of awkwardly.

"They said I planned to sail?" Thranduil guessed. Legolas nodded. The Elven-king shook his head. "I will not lie to you, Legolas – I did think of it. And if you had not returned, I might have done it. But I realize now that that would be a mistake. Everything I need to find peace is here."

"In Middle-earth, aran-nîn," Legolas murmured, kissing his father's hand formally.

"No, penneth," Thranduil said with a smile. "In this room." He hesitated. "Legolas, you do know that I love you?"

"Of course." Legolas looked startled. "Ada, what –?"

"Remember that. Always." Thranduil paused again, searching for the right words for what he wanted to say. "Legolas, I know I am not the best of fathers." He raised a hand to silence Legolas' objection. "And you know that we are both sometimes stubborn. There will be times when we argue, and there will be times when you think I am being unreasonable or unfair. But – no matter what happens – I love you more than you can imagine, and nothing will change that."

In the distance, the laments went on.

And now only the epilogue to go… I think I can safely promise that that won't take this long.

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