Disclaimer: Recognizable characters, places, concepts, and events are the property of the J.R.R. Tolkien estate.

Author's Notes: Well, everyone, I have realized that for some of you Chap. 10 may have constituted a 'happy ending', but it doesn't seem to quite match up with Old Bilbo's quote. I mean, sure, it may have been happy to have Thranduil and Thilómë sharing a tender moment, but Aldandil and Legolas sure weren't happy! Therefore, I have added another chapter.

This shall be the end of "Light of Sons", but due to several reasons (i.e., I enjoy writing, I have an unending appetite for reviews, and we all still need our hilarious Legolas moment), the saga shall continue. I have not come up with a title for the sequel yet, so just look for my name.

There were only a few reviews on Ch. 10 (Either you all hated it, or the update wasn't displayed on the Just In page), but I'd love to thank those who did review! Also, if you missed Chap. 10 and want to review it...go ahead. *tries to give everyone a persuasive look, but miserably fails* I will add any responses to this list (below) if they come in.

*Dragon-of-the-north: Your reviews are most definitely the best! And two this time! Your comments on all of the characters were so much fun to read. Thank you also for the comments on my picture. I don't know if I'll do anymore---depends on how hard writer's block hits the next time around. : )

Also, thank you for your suggestion on the continuation of the story. If it's all right with you, I may build around that.

*Esgalromen: It was going to be the end, but I have changed my mind (I do that quite often) and written more, a new end!

*Queen of Shadows: She's not leaving! *hops around in a circle, singing* And here is a little more.

~*~

Rated for angst, which is over.

Sindarin:

Amin mela lle = I love you

Diola lle = Thank you.

Responses to Ch. 11 reviews will be available in the first chapter of the sequel.

Do review! Please! *gets into begging position (looks pathetic), fusses a little while, gets up* Forget that, I could just threaten to cut the sequel for lack of interest!

Anyway, tell me what you enjoyed most, so I can be sure to include similar things in my later writings (i.e., do you hate angst, love humor, wish Legolas wouldn't fall asleep so much, etc.)

Your questions and comments are always welcome!

---Aranel

aranels@hotmail.com

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Chapter 11~*~Joy, Devotion, Love

Thilómë pulled back the layers of coverlets and spreads, sliding between the soft sheets of her bed. She eased herself down onto the feather pillows, pulling the blankets up. Today had been difficult, trying. She sighed, rolling onto her side to look at her husband.

Hearing his wife's movements, Thranduil shifted to face her. He pushed himself up on his elbow, whispering, "Do you know how wonderful it is to have you here with me?"

Thilómë smiled slightly, "I thought you'd like this big bed all to yourself."

"No," Thranduil drew the word out, pushing strands of hair behind her ears, "Never. When you said you couldn't leave, those were some of the most beautiful words I'd ever heard." He brought his face closer to hers, smiling, "If our son's head hadn't been in the way, I would have kissed you."

"You can kiss me now," Thilómë grinned, then allowed herself to be enveloped in the brief moment of passion. She had been afraid of such closeness recently..afraid, because she didn't want to leave it behind. She nestled herself in her husband's arms, enjoying the security more than the touch.

Thranduil rubbed his hand along the length of his wife's arm, taking her soft fingers into his own. He had been so afraid of losing her, and the knowledge that she had chosen to stay with him made him treasure her even more. He took in the sight of her near him, seeming more content than she had been in a long time. "You said you're staying for love," he brought his lips close to her ear, "And you will get as much of it as you desire."

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"...and see? Here is the picture I've been looking for," Thilómë held the book in front of her son, pointing, "Here is Eärendil, and that is the Silmaril on his head."

"And the boat," Legolas traced his finger across the page, then looked up at his mother, his blue-grey eyes wide with concern, "And you aren't going on the boat?"

"That's right," Thilómë nodded slowly. How many times had he asked her that question today? It was as though he had to be completely positive that she was not going to leave. She gave him a reassuring smile, "I'm staying right here."

Legolas smiled back, returning to the book, "Good."

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Aldandil went from room to room, ducking into each one in search of his mother. Ah, there she was! He stepped into the sitting room, sliding into the chair he had taken yesterday afternoon. Today rays of sunlight streamed through the windows, warming the floor and furniture. His mother sat reading in another chair, Legolas asleep on her lap.

"Hello, Aldandil," Thilómë smiled, setting down her book. Her older son rarely searched her out anymore. She missed the days when he had followed her about, and cherished the occasional moments when he spoke with her. How good it was to have more time to enjoy those instances!

"Hello," Aldandil seemed distracted. He tried to relax in his chair, "Naneth...I want to apologize for the things that I said. It wasn't considerate."

"I wouldn't say that," Thilómë responded, "You were thinking of your brother, and that was considerate."

Aldandil looked at Legolas, sound asleep in the sunlight. It was true; he had been concerned for his brother. He looked back at his mother, "Still, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking of you."

Thilómë rested her chin on her hand, looking thoughtful, "I'm your mother, Aldandil. It's not your responsibility to think of me. This does not allow you to be selfish, or to disrespect me, but it frees you from worry for my well-being." She smiled, "You have a responsibility to your brother, and to the people of this land. You have done well, and shall continue to do so. I should be glad to see it." She searched her son's face. Thilómë had told him the truth, and yet he still looked discontented. She reached over and placed her hand on his arm, "What is it?"

Aldandil hesitated before speaking, "You stay for Adar because you are close to him, and you stay for Legolas because he needs you, but..."

"I stay for you because you bring me joy," Thilómë gave her son's arm a convincing press. When Aldandil looked at his mother's face, he saw a sparkle in her eyes and she wore a bright smile. She went on, "What do you think I feel when I see you? You've grown so tall, so strong. You are a good son, a good brother, a good Elf. You bring such joy to my heart, for there is a part of your father in you, and a part of me, and it has done so well."

"Diola lle, Naneth," Aldandil rose to embrace his mother, "Amin mela lle."

"Amin mela lle," Thilómë responded softly.

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Thilómë walked through the beeches, and onto the stone bridge. She traced her fingers along the leaf patterns etched into the rock, not really thinking about them. She set her elbows on the bridge's wall, staring out at the woods, her home, and finally the water running below her. It had slowed with the cold of the coming winter, and Thilómë caught the sight of the wavery lights of reflected stars. What had drawn her here? Not the stars themselves...Elbereth had not called to her in a long time.

Sighing, Thilómë raised her eyes to the sky. The sight was beautiful, but she felt no connection, no reason to lift her voice to the stars. Her joy in, her devotion for, and her love from them were gone, save for memories. She stared at each pinprick in the tapestry of night, remembering. There had been a time when she felt compelled to look at them every evening, when the mere sight could put her at ease, when being under them made her heart soar and sing. Yes, she remembered, but the feelings were still gone.

As she turned to go back to the palace, Thilómë tried to sing for the stars, but the words would not come. She stopped, sighing again. 'Why am I here?' she asked herself. But she already knew. Yes, she knew. She had said it herself, heard it, seen it, felt it. It was true that the stars no longer held her joy, devotion, or love. But that did not mean that she did not possess those things anymore.

Aldandil was her joy, Legolas her devotion, and Thranduil her love.