'Landfall!' I exclaimed.

Hanben bowed his head and smiled.

'Yes, sire. We will see trees again soon.'

The thought of trees, after what felt like so long at sea, would have been welcome wherever we were headed. But to know we would shortly be disembarking on the shores of the Undying Lands was entirely different; it was exciting and alarming in equal measure.

'Thank you, Hanben,' I said.

'Shall I alert your guard, perhaps send my honour-sons to you?'

'If you would, that will be most helpful.'

Within moments I had a little cluster of my new guard around me, Parvon at Triwathon's side, Canadion standing to attention as much as one could in high heels, Thiriston beside him trying to look at me and still catch a glimpse of the smudge of land on the horizon.

'Mellyn-nin, we are almost there. I would like you to spread the word amongst our Silvans; time to pack, to gather belongings together, to prepare for landfall. The Noldor of course are not in our care; I assume Cirdan and his company will speak with them, but if asked, share the news freely. Thank you, and...'

I broke off as a cry came from where I had left Govon and Legolas.

'Your service honours us,' I said hastily. 'Dismissed.'

Nestoril was there before me, of course, kneeling next to Govon who had Legolas across his lap. She shook her head at me, and I knew my son had gone again, slipped out of the far side of reverie, and he was not waking.

I watched, helpless, as Ness chanted her charms, trying to connect. 'He's drifting, oh, I am so sorry, Govon! His fëa is no longer anchored fast to his body. But he has not faded yet, there is still hope! Take him below, hold him, cherish him, whatever you need to bring him back, make him feel something. And do not give up hope!'

Govon's mouth compressed into a hard, tragic line; he could not speak, could only nod as he lifted Legolas in his arms as if he were no heavier than a leaf and bore him off below to the saloon.

'Thiriston, Canadion; stand guard at the doors, ensure Govon and Legolas have privacy. Remove any who get in your way by whatever means necessary.'

'Yes, sire.'

'Ness?' I asked quietly. 'What is this? Why is no-one else suffering in this way, why only my son?'

'Thranduil, I... I do not know, not really... perhaps too much of the sea-longing, too long with only Govon at his side...'

'But the love between them... if that has not been enough, if that is not enough now... Ness, what can we do?'

She shook her head.

'For Legolas? Nothing, if Govon cannot anchor him... Ai, it is so frustrating, to be so near...!' She grabbed my hand and squeezed my fingers, tugging at me, talking almost sternly. 'Now, come. There is nothing to be gained by assuming the worst! You fear for your son, of course you do, you love him! But you have Silvans on board who are anxious about the forthcoming landfall, who still look to you as their king; they need you. You must hold your courage, my love, just a little while longer. We are so close!'

The breath I took sounded ragged in my own ears, but I nodded and pulled my wits close about me, for there were Silvans approaching now with questions in their faces.

Ness gave my hand a final squeeze.

'I am going to attend to gathering our scattered belongings and put them away,' she said. 'I will not be far.'

'No, indeed,' I replied with a touch of my old acerbity. 'One can walk from prow to stern in less than three minutes; I am not afraid of losing you.'

She smiled, delighted at my response, and trotted off, leaving me with half a dozen Silvans to congratulate and soothe, as was appropriate.

'As you can see, landfall is not imminent, simply very close,' I said. 'But gather your luggage, make sure you have all you need.'

'My king, do you know what will happen when we land?'

Unfortunately, I did not, so I was glad that Master Merenor inserted himself into the crowd, smiling as he edged his way to my side before I had quite run out of reassuring platitudes.

'If I may, sire, Lord Cirdan has given me a briefing and so I will be delighted to answer any specific questions our friends may have.'

'Thank you, Master Merenor.' I lowered myself to a seat on the bench nearest to hand. 'Please proceed.'

So Merenor spoke confidently and warmly of the welcome party that always gathered when a ship was sighted. He spoke of friends and family waiting to meet the new arrivals, of Silvans welcomed.

'There is usually a formal group, but sometimes those who live nearest the anchorage get there first,' he said. 'Generally, there is a feast spread on the shore, and lives are reconnected over food and drink and merriment.'

Drink and merriment. Somehow, it did not appeal.

Once the Silvans were reassured, Merenor went to repeat his message around the ship and I took up a stance on the fore of the middle deck, looking out to the line of land growing slowly, smoothly nearer.

Perhaps an hour passed, and with a sudden growling judder, the engines engaged. A few moments after that, Merenor was back.

'Sire, Cirdan has heard about your son's unfortunate illness, and is trying to get us to shore as quickly as possible. He thinks using the engines will cut the time by at least an hour.'

'I see. Pass on my thanks, Master Merenor.'

'Yes, my king. I must go and help Hanben now, but when there is more news, I will seek you out.'

'Thank you.'

I could not bear the waiting on my own.

Descending to the main deck, I tried not to prowl as around me orders were passed amongst Cirdan's crew. I could see Canadion outside the doors to one of the saloons, assumed Thiriston would be at the other entrance and my son and his fëa-mate somewhere inside. Merenor found me there, amidships, carefully not staring at the guarded doors.

'My king, Cirdan says we're making for the south jetty; it's quieter than the general harbour, a little nearer, and more suited to our needs. Twenty minutes, perhaps.'

So long a voyage to be so suddenly almost done. I thanked him with a nod and called for Triwathon.

He was with me in a moment.

'You called, my king?'

'Triwathon, you will have heard that the prince has been taken ill. No doubt there will be considerable eagerness to disembark, at least amongst the Noldor; I want you and the guard to keep the way clear until my son has been taken ashore, can you do that for me?'

'Gladly, sire; I'll assemble the company in readiness and seek volunteers to add to our number.'

Land loomed at last. Ness came seeking me, slid her hand into mine and tugged me towards the disembarkation area of the ship. As we passed the saloon where Govon had taken Legolas, Canadion came to attention, and suddenly either side of us, all the way from the saloon to the side of the ship was lined with Silvans, warriors and civilians forming shield wall keeping clear the way.

The engines stopped, there came a grinding of chains and Merenor and Hanben slid aside the disembarkation panels while others of the crew took ropes ashore to make fast the ship.

Behind the double row of warriors, other Silvans waited, questioning, voicing concern when they were told: your prince is ill, he leaves first, backing away in respect. The Noldor contingent tutted and tried to push through; one of them got an elbow in his throat for his pains.

'My brother's husband is ill,' I heard Merlinith say over his choking protests. 'So wait your turn like the rest of us! You should be ashamed of yourself!'

'They're lowering the gangway now,' Hanben came to say. 'If you are ready, sire...'

Canadion knocked on the saloon door and called in, and Govon came out, cradling Legolas in his arms. It was obvious my honour-son had been weeping, but he carried the shell of my son with quiet dignity, the Silvans closing after him to give them room.

Nestoril hurried over to lay her fingers on Legolas' neck.

'He's still alive, Govon, you've not lost him yet!'

Govon nodded and gripped Legolas tighter, almost running off the ship and along the jetty to lay my son down on the nearest land. Ness and I followed, vaguely aware of other people on the shore but unable to focus on anything other than Legolas.

'See, love, we're here, can you feel the grass beneath you, the sweet air? We're here, in the Undying Lands, you cannot leave me now, do not leave me alone here, I only came to be with you...'

'Stand aside; let me through!'

A commanding voice, one I knew of old and had little cause to love.

Elrond.

'Let me see; I can help.' He pushed past Nestoril and I, ignoring Govon as he bent to raise Legolas' head up, whispered into my son's ear, breathed into his mouth.

'That's enough!' Govon recovered himself, pulling Legolas out of Elrond's arms and jumping up.

Hastily he passed my son to me before turning back, fist already swinging, to land a perfect, determined punch at Elrond's face. Blood spurted satisfyingly from the elegant nose and I felt like cheering, more so as Legolas shivered in my arms and took a huge breath.

'I told you once before never to touch my fëa-mate again, you Noldo pervert!' my honour-son yelled. 'Now leave us alone! Push off!'

'Govon!' Legolas stirred again in my arms and I called my honour-son quickly. 'Govon, I think he's waking.'

Govon took my son from me and bore Legolas off, gently placing him down on the soft ground and chafing his hands.

'Come, my fair elf, we're here. I just hit Elrond and you missed it… wake up, melleth! It will not be the same here without you…'

And Legolas opened his eyes and blinked.

'We're here?'

'Yes.'

'Is that... Elrond? Is he bleeding?'

'Yes, and yes. He… he touched you. He breathed on you! I didn't like it so…'

'And my work is done,' Elrond muttered, clutching his nose.

An elleth robed in soft lilac hues now advanced and inclined her head to me.

'My lord, if you will entrust your son to us, we will bear him hence to our Lady Estë, who awaits him. In her care, his cure will be completed.'

I nodded.

'Very well. Govon - go with them, if you wish.'

'I'm glad you said that… I'll try to send word.'

'All will be easy,' the elleth said. 'This is Valinor. He will be well, and you will be reunited soon.'

Reluctant, I gestured for them to leave. Elrond seemed to be a part of the healing team, too, but walked a wary distance from my honour-son who picked Legolas up in his arms once more in spite of my son's laughing protest, and raised his upper lip towards the former Lord of Imladris in what looked suspiciously like a snarl.

Sometimes I am so proud of Legolas for his choice of spouse.

'Ness? Do you want to go with them?'

'Yes, I…' She broke off. 'I would like to, but there's someone coming. And I want to be with you when they arrive.'

Far in the distance a procession was making its way towards us. I could see it was led by a shimmering, beautiful creature on an elk… there was a glow to her that made me think she could not be simply an elleth, and yet I knew her.

Baralinith.

Not my queen.

Not ever my wife.

And not, I had eventually realised, my fëa-mate.

But still, my first love, the mother of my sons.

And my other two sons were with her, I saw, at the head of the train following, Iauron and Tharmeduil, Tharmeduil standing, walking unaided, waving.

Not only my sons, however; a tall and shining Maia walked beside Baralinith's elk, what looked like a crowd of elves following behind; the welcome party, I assumed.

Even progressing as eagerly as they were, it looked as if they would take some while yet to reach us. I felt Nestoril squeeze my fingers, and saw concern in her soft grey eyes.

'Are you all right?' she asked.

'Of course. You?'

'I'm sure it will be fine.'

That hadn't been what I'd asked.