GREENLEAF'S DAY OUT
Third Age 250
The Woodland Realm, Greenwood the Great
Chapter 6 – Last Little One
"Little Greenleaf, come out!" Legolas clapped two hands over his mouth and held his breath as his mother's laughter, fair and clear as a silver wind chime, rose over the whispers of the swaying beech boughs. Mirion had advised him that surprising their Ammë would certainly be futile, that she would discern his presence on instinct if not by sight.
Nonetheless, the elfling insisted on having his game, and jumped off his horse right before their party came within sight of the Queen's procession. He ran to hide in the undergrowth several yards from the riding path, staying close enough to still see the riders' progress down the road.
Mirion was right, of course. Legolas could tell from his brother and mother's happily exchanged greetings that she knew he had come along. But the Queen immediately dismounted and played along in searching for him in the darkness of the brushwood, waving off the guards who attempted to follow her and spoil the fun.
The search did not take long. Cries of surprise and delight intermingled and broke the peace of the woods as Legolas, sensing inevitable defeat, leapt out of hiding. They grabbed one another at the same moment and nearly toppled to the ground in a heap.
"Oh my dearest," Maereth gasped through her laughter, hugging the elfling tight. "What a special welcome this is! I have missed you so!"
"I missed you too, Ammë!" Legolas declared stoutly. "And I could not wait to tell you about everything that happened whilst you were gone, especially today!" With barely a pause for breath, he launched into a detailed account of the day's experiences with his brothers.
The two escorts joined together to flank the elven royals, and they left the Forest Road to cross the last few miles south to Mar Lasgalen. Riding in between his mother and brother, Legolas filled the silence with his exuberant narrations, going uninterrupted nearly all the rest of the way to the palace grounds. Legolas failed to even realize they had arrived home until horse hooves began to clatter against the paved path to the courtyard.
Despite the lateness of the hour, a retinue of servants waited with lanterns by the palace steps to welcome home their Queen. Among them was Ninniel, who came forward to lead her young charge inside and finally get him ready for bed.
"I shall be in shortly, nin meleth," Maereth called out to her youngest. Legolas tarried long enough to see his Ammë take Mirion aside to speak with him privately. Mirion bowed his head to better hear her whispers, which Legolas could not perceive over the distance. The Queen drew out a small roll (a scroll or letter?) from the folds of her cloak and slipped it into his hand, and that was the last Legolas saw of their exchange.
But something about what he had witnessed stayed with him, so he brought it up to his mother when she later came to kiss him good night. "What did you and Mirion talk about after I left?"
Although she smiled at his question, the Queen was silent for a long moment, and Legolas thought perhaps his inquisitiveness had gone too far. "If it is a secret between you two, then you need not tell me," he added meekly, hugging his knees to his chest where he sat on his bed. "Arvellas said secrets should be honored like oaths, even amongst family."
"That is sound advice, but I do not wish for you to think that your brothers, or your father, or I, habitually keep secrets from you." She reached over and tucked a thin braid of hair behind his ear. "There are a great many truths in this world for you to uncover, and some of them take years to understand in full. You must first grow in body and mind, to prepare yourself to receive them. But you will learn all things in the proper time, I promise."
"Perhaps tomorrow?" Legolas said hopefully.
"Perhaps tomorrow," Maereth agreed with a laugh. "As you seem to have learned today, you never know what discoveries may cross your path each morning you wake." She pressed a kiss on his forehead. "Now your day has been long enough, dearest, but I do have one last surprise for you. But you must promise not to let the excitement delay your sleep any longer."
The elfling nodded vigorously, his blue eyes alight with refreshed eagerness. Maereth nodded towards his chamber door, which Legolas had not realized still stood ajar. The tall, silver-haired figure that swept inside from the shadows of the hall was immediately recognized.
"ADA!" sounded the expected cry, followed by a blur that zipped from the bed and threw itself at the bemused Elvenking of Greenwood.
"Well, there shall no longer be any need to announce the news of my early return. I believe the whole wood must have already heard." Thranduil knelt to embrace the one remaining person in Middle-earth he would bend the knee for. "Mayhaps you have a bright future ahead of you as the Crown's herald."
Legolas laughed and grabbed the king's much larger hand in both of his own. "They said you would not be back until tomorrow or the next day! Or even the next!"
"If 'they' were unable to name an exact day, you should not be surprised when their predictions prove incorrect," Thranduil teased. He allowed Legolas to tug him further into the room, and when the child scrambled back into his bed, he sat on its edge next to him. "No one ever fully knows the King's mind," he continued, raising his gaze to exchange smiles with his wife. "None except his Queen. I have not succeeded in surprising your mother in many centuries."
"But were you able to visit all the villages and outposts that you meant to?" Legolas pressed.
"Yes, I did my duty as king as well and speedily as I could, so I could return to my duties as father-that which I love best and above all." He patted the soft blankets. "You were out so late on your adventure that I arrived home before you did, just waiting for a little prince to tuck into bed."
"I would like to hear stories about your travels, Ada!"
"The hour is too late, ion nin. For you, bedtime remains an important discipline, in the way fight training is for Turhir, or archery practice is for Gelir." As Legolas's face turned crestfallen, Thranduil chucked him gently under the chin. "The time will come, and very soon, when your body will be so strong that it can withstand the toil of days without growing weary. But first it must grow all it can, and hearty sleep is required for that. My stories will keep till tomorrow, and I have many to satisfy your heart's content."
As Legolas reclined and his father pulled the blankets up over him, Maereth bent down to kiss the elfling's brow.
"Good night, my Greenleaf," she whispered, and watched as the lids fluttered closed over those weary blue eyes.
Arm in arm, the King and Queen exited their son's room and started down the hall to their chambers in the opposite wing.
"You have been gone for nary a fortnight, and I for much less," Thranduil mused. "Yet he lights up at the sight of us as though we have been parted for an age."
"Time still flies swiftly in his eyes." Maereth sighed and rested her head on her husband's shoulder. "The fear of fleeting moments has not faded for him, so he tries to keep us all close whenever he can. But soon enough, he will recognize the countless years of life that stretch out before him. He will change, as they all have done."
"And that thought saddens you." Thranduil stopped their progress and gently turned her to him. He raised his hand to her fair cheek, stroking underneath her ear in the soothing way only he knew. "My love, Legolas will be our little one for years still."
"Yet surely he grows, every day stronger, and taller, and wiser," Maereth smiled even as her eyes shone with tears that would not spill. "Until he is a lord of high renown like his brothers."
She kissed the strong hand that offered her comfort. "Pardon my soft sentiments. A mother's heart cannot help but indulge in longing for the past. But in truth, I cannot ask for better sons."
"Bereth nin…" Thranduil's voice trailed off, and in the silence and dimness of the palace corridor he studied the face he loved beyond measure. "I would give you another child if that is your heart's wish."
His wife's answer was quick and resolute. In matters involving their sons, she was always decisive in choices, always certain in declarations. "No, my king. Eru's gift to us is five. Legolas is our last." She touched Thranduil's face with a tender caress. "The season has passed for you and I, and the joys of begetting more is their inheritance."
Her words of a season gone stoked Thranduil's own melancholy that he refused to admit and sought never to show. But he could never hide from the one who held his heart, the one to whom his very being was bound. And so he simply spoke no more of it.
"You rode hard to make an early return," said Maereth, breaking his long silence. "Perhaps you too require rest."
When she resumed walking in the direction of their chambers, he reached out and caught her hand. "I am home, and I am at your side. You are my rest." He kissed her deeply, afterwards slipping his arm about her and guiding her out to the nearest terrace, where a staircase led down to the sprawling palace grounds.
"Let us walk in our gardens and dream of the future under Gilthoniel's lights. Tomorrow is one more day we shall have to enjoy and spend with our last little one."