Author's note: I'm terribly sorry about the delay! I caught myself wondering if I could summarise each of the main characters' personalities with a song, and it ended up being something I pondered over for hours (#autismlife), hence no chapter yesterday. I dunno if describing someone with a song is something people actually do, but I thought I'd share it here anyway, with a couple of keywords with what made me think the songs were suitable. They're at the bottom of the story under Music Notes. Feel free to share your songs too if you do that kind of thing as well! About you, the characters, whatever takes your fancy :)

Also, thanks to all your comments, and to pineapple-pancake and earthdragon for the pointers. I mistakenly analogised spider cephalothoraxes as homologous to the abdomen, but the word I should have used is torso! I'll edit that when I get a moment. Also I messed up Thranduil's age. I'd seen when he was born, but my brain is like teflon with numbers, so the maths went right out the window. I'm happy enough to wear the Maths Dunce badge as a result. I'll see if I can fix it up, but apologies in advance as it will probably take a while.

As always, you're exceptional and can most definitely do the thing! Not once, but again and again. And even if you don't do the thing, I'm super proud of you!

I was almost sad to say toodle-pip to Mirkwood. I was thoroughly enamoured with the idea of spending my days climbing trees here like some sort of (relatively) hairless monkey. Any migration urges were quelled rather quickly, though, as I sat and drank tea on the balcony adjoining my room just after lunch some days later. I glanced over the balcony and got a huge thrill as I saw four familiar, colourfully-clad figures below being led into the main courtyard.

"OH! OH! YOU FOUR! UP HERE!" I shouted, flailing my arms like I was an octopus getting an electric shock. I abandoned my tea, bolted into my room before they could even find the source of the cacophony and sped out to meet them.

I was on the ground floor with my arms around them in moments, and when they were all sufficiently embarrassed by such an overt display of emotion, we all went in to see Oropher so that the newcomers could announce themselves. When we got there, he was sitting and chatting with Thranduil and Legolas.

"Ah, good day to you," greeted Oropher when he saw us, an uncharacteristically warm smile lighting up his features. I almost didn't recognise him when he didn't look like a beautiful villain. His face had always been so severe that I had been under the impression he simply had a profound case of resting bitch face. Now, though, he was coming across as approachable. Was he being genuinely friendly?

I was too distracted to find out. While Elrond was taking one for the team and exchanging niceties with Oropher, I made to sling an arm around Bregedúr affectionately, but stopped when I saw that her face had gone crimson.

For a moment, I thought she was unable to breathe and would soon pass out, but she wasn't clutching at her throat or announcing she was choking in any way. In fact, she was standing stock-still, her eyes locked on one thing. I looked to see where her gaze was and saw Legolas, who had been staring straight back at her in what must have been the most awkward eye-lock in recorded history. His face was similarly flushed. I turned back to look at Bregedúr once more and saw that now Gil-Galad had noticed, too, and was very subtly straining not to laugh.

Fortunately, I have plenty of practice in having to stop myself from laughing after the years I had put in at the family clinic (children have the most magnificent insults that clinicians are strictly forbidden from laughing at), but contagious laughter was another beast altogether. Mercifully, I was able, by the skin of my teeth, to hold a straight face while this all went on.

I think Elrond had only planned to stay long enough to swap some news and courtesies and then skidaddle, but Oropher wouldn't hear of it.

"Ah, but you must stay the night at least! You have come a very long way, and it will be dark before you leave the forest," he said, glancing quickly at Legolas, who looked at him and nodded fervently.

Before Elrond could say anything, Bregedúr quickly stepped in.

"That is most kind of you, Your Highness," she said quickly. "We accept your generous offer with thanks."

Elrond looked like Bregedúr had taken off her sock and slapped him with it. Luckily, none of the Mirkwood royals seemed to notice or care. A yes was a yes, and that suited them.

I got the impression Legolas had laid down the law with Oropher and Thranduil in such a successful manner that it may have constituted one of the most rapid behaviour changes I've seen. Oropher had looked to Legolas for approval of his statements, as though he needed feedback on being warm and friendly. Perhaps he had turned over a new leaf after all.

To everyone's shock except mine and Gil-Galad's, Legolas insisted (quite firmly, I might add) on being the one to show us to our rooms and give a quick tour around Mirkwood.

I had to make a concerted effort to restrict the number of knowing glances I indulged in with Gil-Galad while all this went on, because the Maiar do not get sick. This axiom meant I could no longer blame any outbursts of wheezing laughter on asthma and expect to be believed.

Nonetheless, we got through it eventually. To his credit, Legolas was a lovely host and gave a great tour, only a slender majority of his attention going to Bregedúr. Elven crushes were a curious thing to observe, a little bit like those optical illusions where one image was hidden in another one. Initially, all you can see is real, sporting niceness. Then, though, someone helpful like Elrond takes you aside and informs you that was actually courtship. You finally see the hidden image, and from then on, you can't un-see it. A smile that's a half-centimetre wider than average? Crush. Asking for more than one dance? Big crush. Sitting alone together and accidentally end up holding hands? Probably about to be engaged. Such were the peculiar ways of the Elves.

Naturally, being privy to what was going on with Bregedúr and Legolas meant that I had duties as a good mate to fulfill. At dinner that evening, I made sure Bregedúr sat beside Legolas, right at the end of the table. Not conducive to making eyes at each other, but makes the setting ripe for quiet conversation.

After dinner, they magically ended up beside each other again when we had adjourned to the music hall for the evening's entertainments. We were there until fairly late into the night, and by the time the singers had sufficiently sung and the players had played aplenty, the five of us stood in the corridor with Legolas, Thranduil, and Oropher, conversing yet more.

"Mmm, well, I suppose we should call it a night," I said, seizing on a short lull in the chatter. "Early start, you know?"

A sequence of nods followed, after which Elrond, Glorfindel, and Gil-Galad said their goodnights and strolled away to their rooms.

"Oh, Legolas, would you mind doing me a favour?" I bid him. Legolas looked up attentively.

"I was going to show Bregedúr the library here, but I find I'm very tired, myself. Do you think you could do it for me? Just a quick look, I don't want you to stay up all night, but it's really worth a look."

Legolas quickly looked at Bregedúr and nodded, politely offering his arm to her and taking her to the library (which, by the way, was about 15 minutes' walk away).

Left alone now with Oropher and Thranduil, I quickly made to excuse myself, but Oropher began to speak.

"I know it is late, Rhodri, but I wonder if we could speak with you for a few moments?"

I was intrigued. And absolutely not tired.

"Certainly," I said with an obliging nod.

"Could we perhaps take the conversation somewhere a little more… personal?" Thranduil asked, looking around a little.

"Sure," I answered. "Lead the way."

They took me into the room where Bregedúr and the others had presented themselves, and opened a door behind Oropher's throne, and invited me inside. It was a splendid room, with handsome furniture, tasteful art, and herringbone-style wooden floors. This must have been where they had official audiences with visiting monarchs and dignitaries.

I sank into a deliciously soft armchair, and Oropher and Thranduil sat opposite me.

"You likely already know why we have asked to speak with you, Rhodri," Oropher began.

I shook my head. "No, as a matter of fact, this has taken me by surprise," I replied, "but I'm more than happy to be enlightened."

This didn't seem to be what Oropher was expecting to hear, but he took it in his stride as he started to explain.

"A day or two ago, Legolas spoke with us both quite frankly about how he was hurt and dismayed by how we have handled his fear of spiders."

So I was right. He had diplomatically read them the riot act. My inner self was performing a small victory dance. What progress Legolas had made- starting out so afraid of spiders that I couldn't curl my fingers up without it evoking a full-on shutdown, and now he had the confidence to slay giant spider demons and call out intimidating parental figures on their bad habits.

I nodded. Thranduil then spoke up at this point.

"It was… very confronting," he twiddled his thumbs uneasily. "We were foolish to continue pushing so mercilessly when he only became more afraid of them with time, but we were so sure that it would eventually work."

There were things I wanted to say to the two of them that would not have been correct behaviour as a psychologist. I did not have the time to unpack their issues right now, I wanted to fob advice onto them, and I didn't even have any consent forms for them to sign, anyway. I decided this would be off the books. No notes, no diagnoses, just a frank discussion as a helpful acquaintance. You know, sort of like when you get a stranger's life story on the bus and you give them a few pointers before you reach your stop.

"What do you think was the main problem?" I asked them both.

They simultaneously furrowed their brows, both drumming their fingers on their respective armrests. It was vaguely unnerving to think they were parent and child, rather than fraternal twins.

"I think there were likely a few problems," began Oropher with a sigh. "We disregarded his feelings; we tried to improve Legolas' problem with cruel measures; and we did not listen to him."

Ah. We had hit on the main one. "We did not listen to him." It was very impressive that Oropher had reached that conclusion so quickly, and seemingly on his own. Thranduil nodded sorrowfully in agreement.

I am quite sure that at least 65% of arguments could be avoided if all parties listened properly, but the workings of our own mind- our mental dialogue, wants, and needs- can be so loud that it drowns out all incoming information.

If 65% of arguments could be fixed by listening, the other 35% could be resolved through proper compromise. Being able to meet someone in the middle is an exhausting exercise which people cannot necessarily be expected to do on their own. Indeed, many arguments fall into the purview of the legal profession, so it's never a black and white affair. But I got the impression that the Mirkwood Royals had become very accustomed to a 'my way or the highway' approach. It's intended to command respect, but it seldom does much more than make one appear as a pig-headed nightmare.

I tapped my lips with my finger as I considered all this. "Do you think this was a frequent occurrence while Legolas was younger?"

"Oh, yes," said Thranduil heavily. "We had far shorter tempers after my wife and my mother were killed, so we were firm and unyielding so as to not leave room for any provocation on Legolas' part. Too firm, in hindsight, I would say," he added sadly.

So they were coping with their grief by shying away from anything that could evoke strong emotions. That's not uncommon. Many people try treating their grief like a lit candle, hoping that if they put it in a bell jar, it will eventually extinguish of its own accord. In reality, it works more like a volcano that will intermittently explode under too much pressure.

"Did you two even have time to process your own grief after these awful incidents?" I asked.

"Well, no," said Thranduil. "We had duties. I had a child—"

"And I had a kingdom to oversee," added Oropher.

"You know this isn't sustainable, don't you?" I looked at them seriously. "You can't live like this. I know that you're both trying to improve. I saw it in the way you've been talking with Elrond and the others. It's a terrific start, truly it is, but you will keep finding unhealthy quick-fixes to deal with your grief if you don't do something about it, and if it's not Legolas suffering, it'll be you."

They stared at me in silence, their piercing blue eyes wide with fear.

"But what—how—" Oropher whispered. I gently put a hand up to cut him off.

"Grieve," I enunciated clearly. "Cry. Look at pictures of them, think back to when they were around. Acknowledge how unhappy you are that they died. Feel angry, in denial, cry again, come to terms with it. Be open about it with people you trust. Go on holiday. If someone provokes you, ask to talk about it later."

Oropher and Thranduil swapped between chewing on their lips and struggling to keep their breathing even as they frantically flicked their eyes everywhere.

"I'm not going to be able to say much more to the two of you here, because this is overwhelming for you. I understand that. I will give you two tips on top of what I've said tonight."

I held up my index finger. "One: prioritise everyone's wellbeing and seek ideas from others on how best to achieve that. You don't have all the answers."

My thumb shot out. "Two: Draw some boundaries. Take care of yourselves and each other. Don't try to hold it together by acting like a pack of wild dogs, snapping at each other to try and assert dominance. Ask for help, receive help, give help freely. Be who you would like for yourselves."

They looked like they were inches away from losing it completely. It was time for me to leave them be to let the mourning begin at last. I stood up and nodded deferentially at both of them. "Come and see me in Imladris if you need anything. Good night, Your Highnesses."

They said nothing; I don't think they could afford to let a sound escape without it turning into a sob. I gave them one more nod, then left the room.

It was hard to know exactly what would come of us sitting there and talking. Some people really just need a couple of talkings-to, maybe a little unpacking, and it genuinely changes them. Others don't ever progress, or, worse still, they learn how to put on a good face in the presence of others to give the impression of improvement, but their behaviour remains as toxic as ever. The outcome reveals itself slowly and over a long time, so for these two, it was a case of watching and waiting.

Officially, my part in this was over, but as I walked down the hallway to my room, I resolved to let Legolas know he was welcome to write or visit me in Imladris at any time. I paused as I opened the door as the realisation hit me that if things between Legolas and Bregedúr kicked off, I might be seeing a lot more of this place. Cue a tiny, very excited smile.

The next day it was goodbye for real. We were up with the sun, and after we had said farewell to the Three Blonds (with great reluctance on Bregedúr's part, be assured), we were on the road, pursuing adventure like a duck going after a June bug.

Thus followed a glorious month and a half of horseback riding, laughing, singing, campfiring, and swapping stories.

Glorfindel, bless him, had brought the hammock and informed everyone that trampolining would commence every second day one hour before sunset. This meant that every second day, we were only allowed to set up camp if the place had a tree with suitable branches.

Naturally, Bregedúr was keen, and got hooked at once. She even got a few flips in. Gil-Galad was won over by Glorfindel's endearing enthusiasm and enjoyed himself so much that he willingly had a turn whenever it was offered to him.

It took a while to convince Elrond to give it a go. A worrier by nature, he was sure something would go wrong, but when he heard Gil-Galad getting excited for his turn, he caved and allowed himself to be persuaded to have a turn, which was met with a rousing cheer from all of us.

After a few careful, gentle bounces, he had a try bouncing off it from the branch above, and by god, he did a pike twist and stuck the landing perfectly. Well, we lost it. The four of us were shouting like monkeys, uninhibited by formal surroundings or roles, clapping and stomping our feet. I've never seen someone look so embarrassed but so pleased all at once as Elrond's face in that moment.

As lovely as the camping trip was, it was splendid to come home. I hadn't realised how much I had missed the place until I was greeted with that same, stunning view as on the day had arrived there with Bregedúr. My heart full at the sight of it, we trotted up to the main house a little more quickly than we had been going prior.

In the main courtyard, we dismounted our horses and passed them over to the stable hands. As we grabbed our bags, a couple approached us, accompanied by someone I recognised to be one of Elrond's advisors.

And my god, it happened again.

Music Notes

Rhodri: Night Time- Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium (playful, intuitive, benign, contemplative, joyful)

Glorfindel: iii. Mercury- from Gustav Holst's 'The Planets' suite (lively, zippy, interested, easily excited, genial)

Bregedúr: True Love's First Kiss- John Powell, from Shrek 1 (tempestuous, impulsive, heroic, caring, tender)

Gil-Galad: A Wondrous Place- Mark Mancina, from Tarzan (the drums don't quite tie in, but the rest works precisely) (quiet, introspective, virtuous, selfless, brave)

Elrond: Nocturne in Eb Major- Frédéric Chopin (subtle, emotional, insightful, gentle, elegant)