Seasons pass in a blink of an eye for elves. Soon, twelve years had passed and Ainulindalë never forgot Legolas. Legolas had never forgotten about her either.
Rumíl was growing into a handsome little elf. Many of the servants claimed he could rival the Prince. He was the only thing Ainulindalë had to remind her of the good days with Legolas and she loved him dearly.
"Mother?" The young elf asked as he was drawing on the floor in front of the fire.
"Hmm? What is it Rumíl?" Ainulindalë asked as she continued to sew his shirt.
"Why don't I look like father or much like you for that matter?" He asked in quiet curiosity. This question startled Ainulindalë so much she stabbed herself with her needle.
Ainulindalë had let Rumíl call Brilthor 'father' because she didn't want him to feel different from the other elven children.
"Well, it's because… er… you're special," she said searching for a better answer for she knew there were to be more questions.
"Why am I special?" He pressed. She didn't answer him. How could she tell him? She sat there in silence, trembling, trying to sew his shirt. Should she tell him that he was a second-generation prince of Mirkwood? Or should she just let that go? "Mother?"
"Very well," She said quietly. "I'll tell you, only because you deserve to know. Not because you are old enough. But you are a smart little elf."
"I'm not little!" Rumíl protested quietly. Ainulindalë smiled weakly.
"Well," she continued. "A year before you were born, I was to marry Brilthor, this was completely against my will. I was so desperate to not follow through with the wedding I ran and was going to jump off of the Mirkwood cliff."
"Mother! That would have denied you access to Mandos!!!" Rumíl gasped. Ainulindalë smiled softly.
"I know but that's how badly I didn't want to go through with the wedding. Anyway, I didn't realise that another elf was following me. He talked me down from the cliff and took me to his home, which just happened to be the palace."
"He lived at the palace?"
"Yes, he did. At first, I believed him to be a servant."
"Mamma, he wasn't…?" Rumíl gasped. Ainulindalë smiled and nodded. "The Prince?"
"Yes, it was Legolas," she smiled fondly as the memories came flooding back. "Well we spent two weeks together and at the end of those two weeks, Auntie Hanak was hurt by Brilthor."
"Father hurt Auntie Hanak?" Rumíl gasped, green eyes fearful.
"Yes he did."
"How?"
"That's not important," she replied quietly. "What is important is that I went to help her. I had to dress in men's clothing so Brilthor couldn't recognise me so easily. But somehow he knew I was there. He almost hurt Uncle Gielan but he caught me in time. A few months later, I was forced against my will to marry Brilthor."
"You mean you don't love Father?" Rumíl asked quietly and she shook her head.
"I do love your father," she said and Rumíl looked utterly confused.
"You just said you didn't."
"I love your Father but not the elf you call 'Father'." Realization dawned on Rumíl's delicate features.
"Oh! Oh… But that means my father's a- but that would make me a-."
"A prince," Ainulindalë finished for him. "Now that you know, you cannot breathe a word of this to anyone, understand?"
"Yes, Mumma," he replied quietly.
"Okay. Time for bed Rumíl," she said putting her sewing down.
"Night Mumma," Rumíl said getting up and kissing Ainulindalë on the cheek.
"Sweet dreams, my little Greenleaf," she said as he left the room. "What have I done?" she asked no one in particular.
* * *
"Go to bed Rumíl," Brilthor said to the elfling that was reading on the floor. This was about three days after Ainulindalë had told Rumíl about his real father.
"No," Rumíl answered not looking up from his book.
"Excuse me?" Brilthor said taken aback that anyone would be so bold as to deny him.
"No, I'm not tired," Rumíl said with a little scorn.
"Listen to your father," Brilthor's brother Noah said from the study table.
"He is not my father," Rumíl replied simply.
Brilthor let out a noise that was akin to a roar. He roughly grabbed Rumíl by the arm and dragged him out into hall. He was shouting for Ainulindalë but he found her in her room. He threw Rumíl to the floor at her feet.
"What did you tell him?" Brilthor demanded.
"Nothing more than the truth," Ainulindalë replied from the ground where she hugged her son, who was sobbing into her shoulder.
* * *
Disclimer: You know who tolkien owns, you know who I own… Need I say more?
A/N: Sorry this took so long… I'm winding it down… It'll be over in a few chapters then I may start the sequel… I want to get alot written before I put it up because that way, I'll have a little slack if I can't write… Makes sense right? Thanks for reading and reviewing! Luv Gia
P.S. I know it's not much but it's better than nothing… right?