Chapter Eight
.
.
SUMMARY: Our Elven Prince wakes up in his new home, then meets Elrond's ward, who shows him around Rivendell. Then the Lord of Imladris has some bad news for him, and Legolas begins to understand how deeply a loss can be felt.
.
.
Gazing at people, Some hand in hand
Just what I'm going through, They can't understand
Some try to tell me, Thoughts they cannot defend
Just what you want to be, You will be in the end…
-"Nights in White Satin," by Moody Blues
.
.
Rivendell, 5th of November 2943 T.A.
Beleg's eyes opened to the bright sun shining through the window over his bed. What time was it?
He stretched and yawned as he drowsed; this bed was the most comfortable he had ever slept in, yet it had taken him hours to finally fall asleep. Elrond had been right; their meeting last night had given him a great deal to consider, and he had tossed and turned much of the night.
He blinked his eyes fully open, then sat up and took in his new surroundings. The bedroom wasn't big but it was full of light, and a sharp stab of homesickness went through him, as he studied the design of the furnishings, especially his bed. It was much like the one in his room at the Palace back home. That had been made here in Rivendell, as a wedding gift for his parents, and a reminder to his mother of her homeland.
The day he had reached his majority, there was a great celebration at the Palace, though he would have preferred little pomp and ceremony. His begetting day was in January and there had been a banquet and a dance, and there were many gifts. His father had given him a mithril diadem, free of jewels, simple and flowing in design, which suited him perfectly. King Thranduil had many such items for different occasions, and they suited him, but Legolas despised such frippery. He particularly detested the crown that looked like silver antlers, and dreaded the day Galion might want him to wear it. It was a bit of a comfort when he realized his Adar hated it just as much.
The next day, Galion took him to one of the storage rooms. "There is something I think you should have, Pînlass. He pointed out a large, long crate and together they took off the lids and revealed the elaborately carved bed.
"It belonged to your mother, Legolas. It was a wedding gift from your grandparents, and I think you should have it. It is time."
He ran his hands over the smooth, polished wood. "It is very beautiful, though it needs oiled."
"I could have some of the servants do this, but I think you would enjoy taking care of it yourself. It is yours now."
"But what about Adar? Will he not object?"
Galion put his hand on Legolas's shoulder. "You leave your father to me; do not worry. I will send along some items to treat the wood, and leave you to it. It is my gift to you."
He threw his arms around his dearer-than-uncle. "Thank you, Galion. I love it."
"And I love you, Legolas." The Aide said softly. "It is good that you have this."
The rest of the day was spent carefully examining the bed frame for signs of dryness or weakness, then he oiled it and polished it until it shone. His mother had been gone for 89 years, and it was clear that someone had been taking good care of this, otherwise it would have completely dried out. It couldn't have been Adar; but he was sure that Galion had ordered it to be maintained for this occasion.
Once it was taken to his room and set up with a new spread, he marveled at it and felt closer to his mother than ever before, as if this bed was part of her, watching over him as he slept, and he liked the idea of that.
He was tracing the swirling patterns of the footboard when he sensed someone watching him. At the sound of a soft gasp, he turned his head toward the doorway where Thranduil stood, with a pale, strained face.
"Adar, I—"
The Elvenking raised his hand to shush him. "Galion told me," he said in a rough voice. "I… It is right that you have it, Ion nîn. She would have liked that…"
"Thank you—"
But his Adar rushed from the room before he could finish the sentence.
Thranduil went to his own rooms and he did not come out for two days, and from that day forward, did not enter his apartment.
At the time he understood, and had some compassion for his father, but that goodwill eroded over time, and disappeared completely after the Dragon Smaug sacked Erebor and Thranduil's heart turned to stone.
It could have been so different…
Legolas got up and walked through the entrance to his sitting room, which was fitted with a table, two comfortable chairs and a small couch. There was a fireplace in this room too, but it was not lit. Like his bedchamber, the windows were large, and the light made it cheerful. He went over to one of the windows and looked down upon a large garden. Many of the flower beds were covered, as were the bushes, prepared for their winter sleep, yet it was still a pleasant sight. The sun was high in the sky—
The sun.
It must be nearly midday! How long had he been sleeping?
He quickly went to the necessary and took care of things, then he washed his face and hands, and brushed and braided his hair. He didn't have many clothes with him, and they weren't at all suitable for a lovely place such as this; he would have to ask Elrond about having some more made. He put on the spare tunic and leggings in his pack, pulled on his boots, and hurried out to find something to eat.
"Good morning, Beleg; did you sleep well?" It was Lindir who was the first to greet him, once he entered the hall.
"I did, eventually." He grinned at the Aide. "I am not used to such comfortable lodgings. Can you tell me where I might find some breakfast?"
"I am afraid you slept through the morning meal, Beleg. Lunch will be served in an hour in the Dining Hall."
"It is midday? I did not mean to sleep so long; I apologize—"
Lindir raised his hand to calm him. "Lord Elrond instructed that you not be disturbed. And it appears you did need the rest. You look much better."
"Thank you. Could you please direct me to the Dining Hall?"
"Down this Hall, make a left, then a right, and go all the way to the end; you cannot miss it. But in the meantime, I will have some tea and fruit sent to you. There is a small balcony outside your sitting room for you to enjoy if you wish."
"I would like that very much, Mellon, but after this, I do not wish to be such a bother. I would prefer to dine with the others."
"As you wish," Lindir smiled and bowed. "Lord Elrond and his companion will meet you in the Dining Hall soon."
"I look forward to it."
.
At midday, Beleg entered the Dining Hall which was beautiful and peaceful. There were arches and curves everywhere, and while the Palace of the Woodland Realm reflected the forest they lived in, this Homely House celebrated the mountains and valleys and sky. And there was something else; a timelessness and magic lived in this place. He felt the same in the Golden Wood, though Lothlórien could not be more different. Yet the same sense of enchantment surrounded him there as here.
He would have to ask Lord Elrond about it.
"Good morrow Beleg; I hope you slept well?"
He went to the head table and bowed to the Elf-Lord. "I did, though it took a bit of effort. Thank you for allowing me to rest, My Lord."
"It was no trouble. Come; join us," he indicated a seat two chairs from his. In the middle was a child. A human child.
He tried to hide his surprise and took his seat.
"Beleg, allow me to introduce you to my ward, Estel."
"Mae de 'ovannen, Beleg," the boy gave him a perfect Elven salute.
"Ni veren an dhe ngovaned, Estel," he returned the greeting. "Your Sindarin is excellent."
"Estel has been with us since the age of two, and is my foster-son. He lives here with his mother."
"It is funny that Elladan and Elrohir never mentioned him."
"Did they not?" Elrond was nonchalant.
"I did not mean to be rude, My Lord. Please accept my apologies."
"Think nothing of it. Estel is always happy to make a new friend, is this not true, Ion nîn?"
"Ada tells me you are a very good archer. Could you teach me?" the boy asked.
"Of course; that is, if your Adar agrees to it. I would be happy to." The child was attractive, with dark hair and light eyes, and looked to be about the same age as Lord Bard's son, when he met them. "Do you have your own bow, yet?"
The boy's smile lit up his face. "I just received my new bow – Glorfindel said I was finally old enough."
"And how old are you, Estel?"
"I am twelve; my birthday is the first day in March."
"You are tall for your age," Legolas remarked. "And you certainly look strong enough to have his own bow."
"See? I told you I was big enough, Ada!" Estel told his father excitedly.
"And you were right, hênig." Elrond laughed at his foster-son. "As a matter of fact, I was hoping that you would become Estel's official instructor. Glorfindel is working with him in swords, but Halbarad tells me your prowess with a bow and arrow outshines even the twins."
"Thank you for the compliment, My Lord." He grinned.
"I have also been told you are an expert with fighting knives, and I would like you to meet with Glorfindel regarding instructions and practice with my own Guards."
"It would be my honor, though I cannot imagine that someone like Glorfindel needs to be taught anything."
"You might be surprised, Beleg. It is always wise to understand how our enemy fights, but it is equally important to understand how our friends do, as well. In times to come, we will be called upon to stand side-by-side with our kindred and fight our common Enemy. We must be ready to work together, to share different techniques and ideas." He regarded the blonde Elf. "You have heard of the 'exchange program' between Lothlórien and the Woodland Realm?"
"I met some of my friends in the Wold last year, My Lord." He said with a smile.
Elrond's face showed slight alarm at this and asked carefully, "And were they happy to see you, Beleg?"
"They were," Legolas said, with a nod of reassurance. "They told me Lord Celeborn was excellent and thorough. They had no doubts as to what was expected of them."
"That is well." The Elf-Lord smiled down at his ward, who was pushing his food around on his plate. "Estel, you must eat your vegetables, or there will be no dessert for you."
"Can't I just skip them this once?" the boy pouted.
"Estel," an authoritative female voice was heard. "You know the rules: you cannot have your treats until you eat all of your greens."
"Beleg, I do not believe you have had the pleasure of meeting Lalaith, Estel's mother." The Elf Lord indicated the lovely woman seated on the other side of him.
"Mae de 'ovannen, Brennil nîn." Legolas bowed his head.
"Ni veren an dhe ngovaned, Beleg." Lalaith smiled. "Estel, finish you lunch so you can help show Beleg around."
The dark-haired lad's eyes appealed to Legolas for help.
"I am afraid I agree with your Ada. I had to eat my greens when I was your size. How can you grow big enough for a full-sized bow?"
"Estel, I was hoping you will help me show our new friend around this afternoon."
"Can I show him my tree house?"
Legolas leaned down and said, "I would like to see it, very much."
The boy grinned and dug into his beans with a bit less reluctance.
.
Once the meal was finished, Estel held his hand, as they toured the wonders of Imladris, and it was a wonder indeed! Lothlórien had astounded him, with its Mallorn trees and the houses in the sky, but Rivendell had a unique beauty all its own, such a beautiful place nestled in the valley, so open and lovely.
Elrond hardly had to say a word; but looked on with pride and affection as Estel led the way, took him to the smithies, the meeting halls, and the different houses and introduced his new friend to the Elves who dwelt there.
At the main library, where Elrond kept the ancient artifacts of their people, Legolas gasped when he was brought before a statue bearing the shards of Narsil.
"That," Estel said with pride, "is a really old sword, but it's important."
"Can you tell Beleg why it is so sacred?" Elrond quizzed the child.
"Because a Man like me used it to cut the Ring from the Dark Lord!" the boy pointed at the mural on the other wall. "See? That's King Isildur!"
Legolas took in the scene depicting the end of the War of the Last Alliance. "That must have been gruesome."
"Ada was there, did you know that?"
"I believe I read something about it, when I was a young-ling." He winced. "I am sorry, My Lord. History was not my favorite subject, I am afraid."
"Me neither. I'd much rather be out playing, but Erestor says I have to learn about everybody's history."
"Me either," Elrond corrected.
"So, you like to read?"
"Sometimes. If the stories are exciting, but Erestor doesn't always give me those," Estel rolled his eyes.
.
Then they came back to the courtyard and Estel led him over to a large Oak tree with a small flet built high in its branches.
"That's my cargaladh!" Elladan and Elrohir helped me build it when I was eight."
"I believe this is where I will leave the two of you," Elrond said. "Estel, can you keep Beleg company until his appointment with Glorfindel, and take him to the barracks?"
"Of course, Adar."
"Have a pleasant visit," the Elf-Lord bowed his head to Legolas. "After you are finished with Glorfindel, could I meet with you in my study? Any of my people will be happy to show you the way."
"Yes, My Lord." Legolas saluted. "Thank you."
"Come on; lets go!" Estel started to climb the wooden planks attached to the trunk as "steps" for a growing child of Man to manage, and Legolas jumped up and caught the lowest limb and easily made his way up to the structure.
"It is well-made," he looked around the small room, and the collection of stones, strings, bones, books and other treasures a boy likes to keep. "I have a favorite tree back home, as well. I liked to sit in it and read, when I was young."
"Where are you from?" Estel settled in a cross-legged position, against the wall.
"I am from a place far from here called the Woodland Realm." At the boy's blank look, he added, "Many refer to it as Mirkwood. Have you heard of it?"
Recognition lit up in Estel's face. "Uh huh. Erestor showed me maps, and said it's over the mountains, way past the Golden Wood. I've never been there; what is it like?"
"Well, it used to be beautiful and green, but an evil being came to dwell in the forest and it got sick."
"Is that thing still there?"
"No, and I am thankful. The Lady Galadriel purged it two years ago, and I think the woods are feeling better, but it still suffers."
"I know her! She and Celeborn are the parents to Ada's wife. She went to the West a long time ago."
"So, I have heard." Legolas said soberly. "I am sure he misses her very much."
"He does, but he says he'll see her soon. He's good to my Nana, and we like it here. She likes to help make the tapestries, so that's where she is most days while I'm at my lessons." Estel regarded him curiously. "What is your Naneth like?"
"She died when I was very small, sadly. She was killed by Orcs."
"That's how my real father died. I don't remember him, either." The boy looked sad. "He was very brave, though. We came from a village to the north of here."
"Really? What is the name?"
"They said it's not there anymore, and that the Elves brought us here. Nana said maybe when I'm older I'll know everything, but I have to wait until Adar says it's the right time."
"Maybe it is difficult for Lord Elrond to speak of; Lady Celebrian suffered at the hands of the Orcs, Estel, so your mother is right to tell you not to press him. My own father cannot speak of my Naneth, as well."
"Is your Ada still in Mirkwood?"
Legolas smiled. "I prefer to call it the Woodland Realm. Mirkwood is not a nice name to my people."
"Oh, I'm sorry! I'll try to remember that."
"It is all right, but I would appreciate it." The Elf looked around at the bare branches, and the slight breeze that flowed through the small house. "Are you warm enough, Estel?"
"I'm starting to get a little bit cold." The boy was reluctant to admit it. "I suppose this is the last time I get to sit here until next spring. I wish I was an Elf, and the cold didn't bother me."
"I am glad you are a boy," he smiled. "Never wish you were someone other than who the Valar made you to be, Mellon nîn. There is a purpose to everyone's life; we just have to find the courage to discover it." He got up and helped Estel to his feet. "I think it is time for us to go inside. Can you take me to Lord Glorfindel's office now?"
"Sure!"
.
Once they were back on the ground, he was shown to Glorfindel's door, just as Erestor came up to them. "Estel, it is time for your maths lesson."
"I had a good time with you, this afternoon, Estel." Legolas smiled.
The boy's face fell. "But when can I shoot my bow?"
"Perhaps tomorrow, Ion nîn." Erestor raised his eyebrows. "But if you do not do well in your classes, then no sport; that is the rule."
Estel sighed. "I know. Novaer, Beleg."
"No veren, Estel," Legolas waved at him, as the child scampered off to the library.
.
The Elven Prince met briefly with the Commander and it was decided that he would begin training with the rest of the troops the day after tomorrow. Legolas found the him surprisingly relaxed and easy to converse with, and he gradually felt comfortable with this legendary Elf. It was clear that Glorfindel knew Legolas's true identity, but was going to treat him like any other officer under his command, and allow him to advance on his own merits, which he appreciated.
"Because you will be tutoring Estel in Archery and several other matters, you will be posted to Guard various places within the City and around it's walls for the foreseeable future." He looked up from his papers. "Is this agreeable to you?"
"You are my Commanding Officer, My Lord. I am at your service," he bowed his head respectfully.
"Very well, then." He handed the schedule to Legolas. "I look forward to working with you, Beleg, and I hope you enjoy your stay." He smiled. "Perhaps you will agree to spar with me at time or two. If you are anything like your father, it will be a delightful challenge."
"I look forward to it." He saluted then left to find Elrond's office.
.
"How did you enjoy your visit with my ward?" the Lord of Imladris asked, as he looked up from his desk.
"He is a delightful child, My Lord."
"He has made Imladris a lively place, though Lalaith struggles to keep my people from spoiling him."
"I take it you are an indulgent father?"
"Oh, I would have been, but after raising my twins; I learned the hard way that a good parent must set limits." The Elf-Lord laughed. "Even now, our fountains occasionally become overrun with soap bubbles, when Elladan and Elrohir decide Rivendell is too quiet for their liking."
Legolas tried to keep a straight face. "Do you not get angry?"
"Oh, I pretend to, but I cannot remain so," Elrond shook his head. "I think they do it to keep me from becoming too serious and morose. I also think they want to keep their own sorrow at bay at the loss of their mother." He sighed. "They make a great deal of noise, but they mean well."
"I suspected as much," he grinned. "Your study is impressive!"
Legolas looked around the room in wonder. It was every bit as functional as his father's office at the Palace, and the setup and architecture could not have been more different, yet, both rooms reflected their Elven heritage and style. There were tall bookshelves, cupboards along two of the walls, and the huge desk in front of the window was simple, yet elegant.
"Please, take a seat," Elrond invited, and Legolas sat in one of the tufted, leather-backed chairs. To his surprise, the other Elf got up and moved around the desk to take the other seat, and he realized that this was going to be a personal conversation.
"I am sorry you were not aware of the attack on your family last May," Elrond began, "and I want to apologize to you for being so abrupt with the news."
"My father could have sent word." He told Elrond, with a bit of resentment in his voice. "It was not your fault."
"Thranduil and Galion were right not to send word to you directly. What if someone overheard? Even if they did not use your pseudonym, the details in their letter could have easily provided our enemies with enough to suspect your true identity. No; it was right that you be told here." He picked up a part of a letter on his desk, and handed it to Legolas. "I received this during the summer from Galion, but it did not occur to me until after we spoke that this might also be intended for you, when you came. I think you should read this, Hênig."
Legolas took the letter, and his heart stirred when he recognized Galion's slanted script:
"…fortunately, Tauriel and Turamarth (son of Captain Ómar, whom you know well) were with Crown Prince Bain and two of his friends on Hope Field (formerly the Field of Desolation), and they quickly got the boys to safety, and dispatched with the attackers.
At the same time, the two Princesses and some other women and children had been forced from the house of the City Planner of Dale, and were taken out of the City before the attack.
Master Ermon will be sending you a thorough account as to the miracles that occurred that night, with a great deal of help from our friends in the Golden Wood, and you may be especially interested to hear of Lord Celeborn's participation in these events.
Still our victory was not without loss. Several innocents were murdered, others were injured, including a friend of Lord Thranduil's son, who goes by the name of Ivran. He was struck with a barbed arrow, and thankfully will recover, but another, a Guard named Meldon was killed…
"Meldon?" Legolas gasped. "It cannot be! He and I have been friends since childhood." His eyes widened in shock. "We are the same age, and took our lessons, and joined the Army together… What happened?"
"I am sorry, Legolas. According to what I have been told, Meldon was standing guard with Lieutenant Ivran outside the City Planner's house, and both were shot. I have the medical reports from Ermon..." Elrond's voice became gentle. "Meldon died quickly, and did not suffer a great deal. Your friend was honored with a memorial service in Dale, then his body was taken back to the Palace for the funeral."
Elrond gave him a compassionate smile. "Your father also wrote me and expressed his sorrow at Meldon's loss. He told me the young Ellon has been close, and expressed his sorrow on your behalf."
"Did he?" Legolas was surprised, and a bit uncomfortable.
"Yes. Neither of these letters negates the rumors of your untimely death, and they both found a way to make sure you were told. I think it was kind of them, do you not agree?"
Legolas swallowed and said nothing.
"It has been two years since you left, Mellonneth nîn; do you not miss your home even a little?"
"I miss a great deal of my former life, My Lord," he said sadly. "More than I thought I would." He shook himself. "But I think I am supposed to be here, and not just because my mother wanted me to come." The young Prince's eyes filled with tears and he swallowed. "Meldon was… I never said goodbye, and we did not part well. I should have written..."
"I am truly sorry for your loss, Legolas." Elrond leaned forward and put his hand on his shoulder with a compassionate squeeze. "I know you lost many of your friends and companions during that terrible Battle, and that is always hard. I, too, have lost one whom I considered my dearest and closest friend." Elrond looked sad. "My brother Elros was a part of me, and I will not see him again. Try to find comfort in the fact that Meldon will one day return, and I wish you both a wonderful reunion." He squeezed again, then let go. "For now, I urge you to take some time to mourn and remember your friend, and I will have supper sent to your rooms. Think of your time with him, and sing the songs of friendship and mourning; I will see that you are not disturbed."
The young Prince stood up. "That will not be necessary, My Lord; I would like to keep busy—"
"Legolas," Elrond rose, and said in a firm, but not unkind voice, "you are here for many reasons, not the least of which is because you need to stop running from things. Your friend was obviously important to you, and you must learn to face your feelings." He tilted his head. "You may not appreciate this observation, but in this respect, you are very much like your father. Has anyone told you this?"
"All of my life, My Lord." Legolas saluted and went back to his rooms.
A fire had been lit in the hearth; Elrond obviously had ordered it, knowing he would need its cheerful warmth. After pouring himself a large glass of wine, he sat in one of the chairs and thought about the Ellon who had been at his side through many a mishap and adventure and stood by him through thick and thin.
.
Núriel had come to work for Galion right after the funeral for his mother, and her brother had a small Ellon who was the same age and the young Prince. One day, not long after she had moved into his apartment, she brought the dark-haired young-ling to play with him and the rest was history. Through the years they laughed at the same things, liked the same kinds of trees, and struggled through their grammar and maths lessons under Galion's supervision. Meldon had always been protective of him; though they never spoke about it his friend understood the depth of his loss and made it his personal mission in life to keep the young Prince smiling.
If Legolas became too sad or serious, he found himself the victim of silly practical jokes, or at times even pounced upon, wrestled to the ground and tickled until they both could hardly breath with laughter. They entered the military on the same day and worked through the ranks together.
"When I become King," he told his friend, when they were children, "you will be my Commander, just like Feren. I will need someone beside me I can trust."
"What makes you think I would?" Meldon grinned and threw his apple core at him. "What if I have better things to do?"
"You will do it because I will be your King!" Legolas made a face, picked up his roll and hit him in the head with it.
This soon disintegrated into a full-blown food fight that left the table in shambles. Núriel threw up her hands at the sight and made them both scrub up the mess.
Legolas took another drink then set it down on the table and stared into the fire as the tears began to flow.
He felt loss at the death of his mother, but he barely remembered her; she was a abstract idea, and he hadn't felt close to her. But Meldon had been a constant in his life; even though time and distance separated them, he had thought often of returning to tell his friend about his adventures. How many times had he wondered what his friend might think when he traveled somewhere new, or took in a beautiful sunset or looked upon the Misty Mountains for the first time?
The last time they spoke together, there was a terrible argument. The Lieutenant had noticed his growing feelings toward Tauriel and tried to discourage him. Much was said that day, but the worst of his words played through Legolas's mind as if they were said yesterday:
.
"She doesn't think of you that way, Mellon," Meldon had said, gently. "She sees you as the big brother you have always been to her, and though she cares deeply for you, she is not in love with you."
"You have been speaking to her about this?" he roared at his friend. "How dare you!"
"No! I have said nothing to Tauriel of your feelings!" Meldon held his hand up in protest. "You must believe me, Mellon nîn, I would never break your confidence!"
But Legolas had let his fears and his feelings get the better of him. "You lie!"
"I am telling you the truth! How dare you accuse me of such a thing?" Meldon was deeply hurt, but he tried to calm himself down. "I am sorry I cannot tell you what you want to hear, but I do not want to see you set yourself up for heartbreak."
He reached out and put his hand on the Prince's arm to offer some solace, but Legolas shook him off. "Do not presume to touch me!" he hissed furiously. "You forget your place."
"But—"
"No!" Legolas stood nose-to-nose with him. "Stay away from me, Lieutenant."
Meldon was incredulous. "You do not mean that, Legolas."
"I am your Prince, and you will address me with the courtesy to which I am entitled; is that clear?"
His friend's eyes fell to the ground. "Yes, My Lord," he whispered.
But the Elven Prince had already stormed off. That same afternoon, Legolas left the Palace to find Tauriel and bring her back to the King, but instead they traveled to Dale.
And they saved Bard's children from Orcs.
And the Dragon awoke, and his father's Army came.
Then the Battle, and all the terrible things that happened that day.
And he left his home and his family without bothering to take the time to find his closest friend to apologize, or even to say goodbye. He had meant to write, to send word to them, but he procrastinated as he wandered, then the sons of Elrond found him and told him of the danger he was in, and that free correspondence would be impossible.
In a way, this new identity as Beleg gave him a chance to step away from all the turmoil at home, and he kept himself from thinking about the mess he'd left behind. He'd buried himself in new scenery, new experiences, his new friends, and worked himself to exhaustion each day so that when he finally went to his bunk at night, his sleep might be dreamless.
And he told himself that part of his life would still be there, when he returned. All of his family: Thranduil, Tauriel, Galion, Nuriel would wait. Meldon would be waiting and he would apologize, and they would be friends, just as they'd always been. But the real truth of the matter was that he began to believe in the lies he told himself, and instead of doing what he knew in his heart was right, he took the easy way out.
Legolas had been an utter fool. Such a fool. He had turned away the closest friend he'd ever had, and for what? Because he was too proud, and to embarrassed to admit he was wrong?
All Meldon had tried to do was save him from humiliation. Never in his life had Legolas abused his privilege to anyone, but that day he had used his station to lash out at the one person who knew him best, and there was no way to take it back anymore.
Until this day, Legolas had never understood what true, heartbreaking loss could be like, and he put his face in his hands and began to cry, as the agony of regret filled his heart.
"Nínion an gurth dhîn, Meldon," he sobbed. "Goheno nin... Govano i nothrim în ah i mellyn în mi Mannos."
For a long time, he cried and sang, and sent prayers to the Vala Mandos, that Meldon could be sent to Valinor soon, for he was a true and honorable friend, and deserved to know the joys of the Undying Lands.
.
888888888888888
.
City of Dale; 12th of November 2943 T.A.
It was less than two weeks after Bard's formal Coronation as King, and things had quickly settled back into the family's normal routine. Thranduil had just returned from walking Tilda to school when an Elven Messenger came forward with a bow.
"A falcon just arrived with a message for you, My Lord."
"Thank you." The Elvenking took off his gloves and took the paper from the Guard's hand. He unclasped his cloak and threw it over his arm as he walked through the Great Hall toward his study in the back, but as soon as he read it, he quickly made his way to the King of Dale's office, yanked him out of his chair and kissed him hard.
"Wow…" Bard laughed. "What's the occasion, love?"
"I have wonderful news!" and after kissing him again, more thoroughly, he handed the Bowman the paper he had just received. "My son is safe and well in Rivendell; look!"
.
8th of November 2943 T.A.
Thranduil, Mellon mail nîn:
Beleg arrived safely beginning of this month. Looks to be in good health, and disposition softer. Told him the sad news of his friend and he struggles to face it, but is doing well. Have decided to wait until the time is right to discuss matters and present your gift. I hope you trust me. I will write a longer missive when the roads clear in the spring.
Best wishes to you and family.
Elrond
.
"That's wonderful, Thranduil!" Bard threw his arms around him.
"Soon he will receive his book…" Thranduil's heart lurched with hope. "Do you think it will help him?"
"All we can do is pray. I'm glad you didn't send word to the Dúnedain. He deserves to know about his friend, but you were right; better to be given bad news where he's safe enough to deal with it."
"I wish I could do more for him. Just as Feren is to me, and Rhys is to Bain, and Turamarth is to Daeron, so Meldon was to Legolas. They were like brothers." Thranduil sighed, sadly. "He told me that his friendship with my son was why he asked to serve us here." Thranduil sighed. "Galion was much closer to Meldon, of course, and keeps up a regular correspondence with his family. His sister will be giving birth sometime next month, and I will be there for the child's naming, of course, but I think I would like to give them a gift, to show my appreciation."
"You should definitely do that. In fact, let's figure out a gift to give from the whole family, love." Bard took his hand and squeezed it. "Tilda said the other day how much she misses him." He put his arms around the Elvenking. "But the important thing is that Legolas is now with Elrond. If anyone can help him, he can."
.
.
ELVEN TRANSLATIONS:
Ni veren an dhe ngovaned, Estel – I am pleased to meet you, Estel
Mae de 'ovannen, Brennil nîn – Well met, My Lady
Ni veren an dhe ngovaned, Beleg – I am happy to meet you, Beleg
Cargaladh – tree house
Novaer, Beleg – Farewell, Beleg
No veren, Estel – Have fun, Estel
Mellonneth nîn – My young friend
Mellon mail nîn – My Dear Friend
Nínion an gurth gîn, Meldon – I weep at your death, Meldon
Goheno nin... - Forgive me
Govano i nothrim în ah i mellyn în mi Mannos – May you join your family and friends in the afterlife.