Chapter Fifteen: A Return
Realisation came to Merlin one day that the time had finally come for him to abandon the village that had been his home for nineteen years. The weedy young man had returned to the farmhouse one night with tears on his pale skin as well as swiftly blooming purple bruises.
He had been the victim of a tavern brawl outside the local pub. The young men all doomed to a life of hard labour on the farms (though obliviously unaware of the restrictions of it) had all had too much to drink and had picked on Merlin. He was something strange to them.
The scraggy pale kid with dark hair that hung around his chin in uncombed silky waves and the bright green eyes that peeked out beneath his fringe. He was only seen outside when he was helping his mother. Most of the time he was helping the sick and injured.
They just struck out at him until the proprietor of the pub, hearing the brawl, shooed them around a spade. Merlin had got up brushed himself down his eyes steady but his body shaking with shock. He thanked the landlord and then ran away from the scene, his lanky frame disappearing into the night.
Legolas had been the first one to the door, hearing Merlin's sobs many metres away. Behind him was Esema. The elf was pushed to the side as the mother helped her son inside and started cleaning the wounds.
Legolas felt strangely left out as all Merlin's attention was focused on telling Esema what has happened. He stood in the doorframe for nearly ten minutes and was about to leave when he heard his name called.
Esema walked past him and gave the prince a quick smile that was more sympathetic than normal. She squeezed his shoulder briefly before returning to her bedroom.
The duvets that Esema had piled upon him swamped Merlin. Legolas stifled a chuckle and walked to where Merlin sat looking at him mournfully.
"Oh Legolas," he said with a wistful sigh. "I wish I could have defended myself against them like you would have. But all I could do was sit there as blow after blow came."
Legolas' face twisted into a momentary expression of pain as he remembered a time when he had been forced to just lay there helpless and vulnerable. The brilliant and skilled warrior of Mirkwood, one of the famed Fellowship of the Ring, could not defend himself as he was struck repeatedly. And he could not stop what was happening in his own mind.
He was not something to be admired so.
"Not even I could have taken such a beating," Legolas said ruefully. "There was nothing you could have done."
"Legolas I want to leave," Merlin's face suddenly brightened and he clutched Legolas' hand tightly.
"I want to leave all this behind and travel!"
"Where would you go?" Legolas asked.
"To Gondor- Minas Tirith- there would be a lot of call for healers there."
"What about your mother, will you just let her struggle on her own?"
"I will return," Merlin said earnestly. "I could never leave her. Legolas?" his voice dropped lower and became almost confidential. "Will you be my guide?"
Merlin was hoping desperately that Legolas would have forgotten about Eldarion enough to return to the home of his friends.
"Minas Tirith?" the elf repeated weakly. "I-I don't think so. Merlin you need your sleep."
Briskly Legolas tucked the covers in and left the room. Suddenly it had become awfully cold Merlin noticed.
~
The sound was almost unperceivable, so soft was it. Merlin lifted his head from the pillows reluctantly and gently placed his feet on the cold wooden floor and walked to the window.
The moonlight bathed the field that was now free of cows, in a ghostly white light. The cows had been gathered in and were sleeping in the barn. It was predicted that the night would be a frosty one.
Merlin's breath steamed up the window and he brushed it away with his sleeve. Dancing under the starry, black sky was a tall and graceful figure.
The younster swiftly grabbed a tunic and pair of boots and putting them on, padded out of the front door and around the back of the building to the field.
The song could barely be heard over the sound of the grass swaying in the cold wind.
Legolas seemed not to be aware of the bitter temperature for he wore only a simple homespun white shirt that had belonged to Esema's husband and a pair of trousers. His feet were bare as they skipped over the damp ground.
His melody was simply in tune but hauntingly beautiful.
"To the Sea, to the Sea! The white gulls are crying, The wind is blowing, and the white foam is flying. West, west away, the round sun is falling. Grey ship, grey ship, do you hear them calling, The voices of my people that have gone before me? I will leave, I will leave the woods that bore me; For our days are ending and our years failing. I will pass the wide waters lonely sailing. Long are the waves on the Last Shore calling, In Eressëa, in Elvenhome that no man can discover, Where the leaves fall not: land of my people for ever!"
His face was alight with happiness as he sung the lyrics that had imprinted themselves into his mind. He was so caught up in the moment that he didn't heard Merlin approach and jumped slightly when his name was called.
"What are you doing?" Merlin hissed.
Legolas beamed widely. "Beautiful, beautiful Merlin," he sang happily and catched the man's wrists, pulled him into the dance.
They spun around. Or rather Legolas spun, Merlin was dragged around also. "Everything's so simple!" Legolas cried, his cheeks rosy from the exercise.
Merlin tried to pull away but Legolas' grasp on his wrists was too tight. Finally he gave up with a sigh and danced as well.
The elf prince was giddy with moonlight and starlight. That night everything seemed so simple, perfect.
"Merlin, I'm going to sail away!" Legolas laughed breathlessly. "I'm going to sail back to Valinor!"
"No!" Merlin protested and stopped dancing. "You can't."
The moment deflated and the prince also stopped and stood staring at Merlin. "Why not?" he asked in a quiet voice that already knew the answer.
"Because.... I need you," Merlin whispered. "I need to you take me to Minas Tirith. From there, you can go where you like."
The silly smile returned to Legolas' face and he embraced the young man that was like a brother to him in the past year. "Thank you Merlin," was all he said.
Merlin nodded and was glad that Legolas could not see the tears that were starting to trickle down his face. He had grown to love Legolas immensely. The fiercly independant elf who every so often needed a shoulder to cry on and a warm hug of support. Merlin had been all of that, and would willingly be that for the rest of his life as long as it meant that Legolas stayed with him.
He wished that Esema could be more of a friend than a mother, but that was not her way. He knew that and did not regret it so much. He needed a friend.
Merlin had watched jealously for many years as couples walked past, laughing and talking. Everyone else it seemed, had friends. Except from him.
And then this strange, battered and weary elf had literally fallen into his life. The first few days had been awkward, Legolas had been reclusive and unwilling to talk. Then he had opened up like a flower under the sun. He told Merlin many things. He told Merlin about the outside world in such vivid detail that the man felt that he had wandered the paths of Mirkwood, passed beneath the boughs of Fangorn and climbed the lofty peaks of the Misty Mountains.
And now, Legolas was planning to leave him. Leave Merlin alone and friendless. He had thought secretly that all of this was too good to be true. Legolas deserved some happiness even if it meant sacrfising's Merlins, it would be done.
'Put on a brave face,' Merlin told himself.
He pulled away and smiled at his beaming friend.
"Come, you'll need all your strength if we're to travel to Gondor," Legolas said and this time he took Merlin's hand and led him back inside.
~ Twenty days later: Gondor- the White City~
King Elessar the Elfstone studied the pair in front of him with some scrutiny it must be said. They were travellers from Ithilien or so they said.
One was a young boy clothed in the down-to-earth fabrics that showed that he worked on a farm. He was lanky with sharp, angular features and was about five foot something.
Standing above him was a tall man, he had a cloak around his body and covering his head, but Elessar sensed that he was also willowy in frame. His dark cloak was splattered with mud from the journey as was the boy's.
"Why do you request a meeting with the King?" Elessar asked. His servant had said that it was an urgent message and that he should take it.
"The boy wishes to train as a healer," the taller said bluntly and Elessar was slightly ataken back by his tone.
It was cold and disrespectful, but the King could sense undercurrents of melancholy sadness in it.
"Do not stand in front of me hooded so," Elessar said frostily. "Show yourself."
"No."
"No?!" Aragorn cried with a smile. This man was as stubborn as an elf. Not for a second did he harbour thoughts that it could have been. All the elves were either over the Sea or currently residing in his barracks alongside his soldiers.
"And who do you think you are to deny the King of Gondor?"
Legolas had to bite down hard on his tongue to stop the answer from replying to the goading question. "No one milord," he replied humbly. "Please, let me have my hood up."
Elessar nodded though he was burning to ask why. "So why should I recruit this boy?"
"He is well trained in the art of healing and has a vast knowledge of herbs," Legolas said.
Merlin tilted his head up and smiled gratefully at Legolas.
"Shall we put your skills to the test?" the King said getting up and opening his study door. He led them out of the main part of the palace and into the Houses of Healing.
"There is a small girl with an unknown fever, we cannot reduce it," Elessar said gesturing towards the girl lying asleep.
Merlin coughed at the fumes in the room. Candles were piled in the room, incense burned. They were used frequently in Gondorian healing methods. The room was swetleringly hot.
"I would have thought the healer King would have more sense than this," Merlin said in a low voice and started to put out all the candles. He removed the curtains from the window and opened it so that the cold breeze swirled around the room. He took the jug that was slightly green from all the powdered herbs stirred into it, and upturned it out the window.
It splashed on the ground outside. "Get fresh water and prepare a broth for her, she needs all the strength she can to fight the sickness," Merlin declared and pulled some of the covers of her. She shivered and tugged the remaining one tighter about her.
Elessar nodded, a slight smile playing around his lips. It had been a long time since he had someone stand up to him, in fact it was probably not since his and Legolas' arguments. His heart grew sad momentarily before he turned his gaze to Merlin.
"I will talk to my Master Healer -Khan- about the boy. You may study with him. Khan is always grateful for new students, you are lucky, currently he has no apprentices." Elessar smiled benevolently. "Go to my Steward of the Palace and ask for a room nearing the Healing Houses, tell him that Elessar sent you."
Merlin nodded gratefully and with another quick glance at Legolas, darted out of the room.
"What about you, Taraer?" [lofty one] the King asked with a laugh.
Legolas' heart missed a beat at the sound of elvish across Elessar's tongue and he wished dearly to reveal himself and bury himself in those arms that cared more for the touch of a loved one than a sword or bow. How would Estel react though? Would he be repulsed as Eldarion?
The elf felt tears pricking in his eyes and ran out of the room. As he ran, the delicate cloth of his elven cloak got caught on the rough edge of the doorframe. Legolas did not notice as the cloak dropped from his shoulders and onto the ground.
Elessar's mouth opened as he watched the golden-haired figure that haunted his nightmares ran down the corridor.
"Legolas," he whispered.
~
The prince had to force his feet to pound down on the floor. He nearly slipped occasionally on the wood that had been polished until it was shiny. But at the last moment he regained his balance and carried on with a vengeance.
He drew near the large doors that led down and out of the palace. Standing in front of it was two burly looking Gondorian guards.
"Stop that elf!" Elessar shouted behind him.
My, my, Legolas thought with an inward smile. The years of rich living had not altered the same swift, loping run that had earned Elessar the name of Strider.
The guard's spears lowered down and made an 'x' shape against the door.
Legolas changed direction quickly and fleet as a deer, headed to the right and to the dining hall. There was a shriek of surprise as he hurtled straight past a maid carrying a tray of food. In front of him Legolas saw Arwen Undomiel clutching her stomach, her face was paler than snow.
"Legolas," she gasped and fainted. The gentleman in Legolas wanted to run back and apologise but gallantry wasn't on the top of his list. His chief priority was to get out of Gondor. It had been a mistake in coming. He would go straight back to Ithilien and buy one of the small boats and sail across the sea.
Shamefully, Legolas realised that he had forgotten Gimli. The sturdy and bluntly honest dwarf who had so faithfully wandered the world with him. He really ought to tell Gimli what had happened.
Gimli would be glad to see him back. He would stop you from going across the sea, a little voice in his head whispered.
"No!" Legolas cried. It seemed that everyone was against him finally having what he most wanted. What he most desired. Or so he thought.
Was passing over the Sea something he wanted more than anything else? Truly, was it? The Sealonging was more of a desire. What he really wanted was Eldarion.
Legolas had been through death for that man. Why didn't Eldarion want him back? Why hadn't he ran into those outstretched arms gratefully and sob thanks to Mandos?
Maybe the sound of the Sea would help his confused mind. Legolas headed for the French windows (A.N: I know you wouldn't have French windows per se.) He fumbled with the catch just as Elessar' heavy footsteps signalled his arrival.
Legolas flung them open just in time and took the balcony wall in one leaping bound. His body was slightly woozy from all the emotions rushing about it and the elf stumbled slightly and cried out in pain as his ankle cracked beneath him.
The prince fell to the ground on the soft grass and beat the ground with his fists in anger. He tried to sit up and run again, but heavy hands pushed him back down again.
"Remain seated Legolas," Elessar said softly. "Look at me."
Legolas stubbornly stared ahead, his jaw set and his eyes stony.
"Legolas please," there was a desperate note in the man's voice. "I wish to see that it is my old friend that is sitting before me."
That melted Legolas' steely resolve into lots of small blobs of liquid metal and he turned to meet Elessar's grey eyes. He was surprised to find them watery.
"Ai, Legolas, it is you!" Estel choked and threw his arms around the elf. "Legolas, Legolas," he sobbed into the startled archer's hair. The King pulled back and stared deep into the blue eyes caring not for the astonished onlookers.
"You lead a charmed life my friend."
"Not quite," Legolas said bitterly. "I paid for it."
"I don't care how you did it, I'm just glad to see you back amongst us again Legolas." Elessar leant forward and placed a kiss on both marble cheeks and then placed his hands over the spots he had just kissed.
~
Merlin smiled at the sight of the reunited friends. He was overjoyed to find someone who cherished Legolas as much as he did. Legolas deserved to find some happiness.
If only Eldarion shared the same feelings as his father. If only.
Realisation came to Merlin one day that the time had finally come for him to abandon the village that had been his home for nineteen years. The weedy young man had returned to the farmhouse one night with tears on his pale skin as well as swiftly blooming purple bruises.
He had been the victim of a tavern brawl outside the local pub. The young men all doomed to a life of hard labour on the farms (though obliviously unaware of the restrictions of it) had all had too much to drink and had picked on Merlin. He was something strange to them.
The scraggy pale kid with dark hair that hung around his chin in uncombed silky waves and the bright green eyes that peeked out beneath his fringe. He was only seen outside when he was helping his mother. Most of the time he was helping the sick and injured.
They just struck out at him until the proprietor of the pub, hearing the brawl, shooed them around a spade. Merlin had got up brushed himself down his eyes steady but his body shaking with shock. He thanked the landlord and then ran away from the scene, his lanky frame disappearing into the night.
Legolas had been the first one to the door, hearing Merlin's sobs many metres away. Behind him was Esema. The elf was pushed to the side as the mother helped her son inside and started cleaning the wounds.
Legolas felt strangely left out as all Merlin's attention was focused on telling Esema what has happened. He stood in the doorframe for nearly ten minutes and was about to leave when he heard his name called.
Esema walked past him and gave the prince a quick smile that was more sympathetic than normal. She squeezed his shoulder briefly before returning to her bedroom.
The duvets that Esema had piled upon him swamped Merlin. Legolas stifled a chuckle and walked to where Merlin sat looking at him mournfully.
"Oh Legolas," he said with a wistful sigh. "I wish I could have defended myself against them like you would have. But all I could do was sit there as blow after blow came."
Legolas' face twisted into a momentary expression of pain as he remembered a time when he had been forced to just lay there helpless and vulnerable. The brilliant and skilled warrior of Mirkwood, one of the famed Fellowship of the Ring, could not defend himself as he was struck repeatedly. And he could not stop what was happening in his own mind.
He was not something to be admired so.
"Not even I could have taken such a beating," Legolas said ruefully. "There was nothing you could have done."
"Legolas I want to leave," Merlin's face suddenly brightened and he clutched Legolas' hand tightly.
"I want to leave all this behind and travel!"
"Where would you go?" Legolas asked.
"To Gondor- Minas Tirith- there would be a lot of call for healers there."
"What about your mother, will you just let her struggle on her own?"
"I will return," Merlin said earnestly. "I could never leave her. Legolas?" his voice dropped lower and became almost confidential. "Will you be my guide?"
Merlin was hoping desperately that Legolas would have forgotten about Eldarion enough to return to the home of his friends.
"Minas Tirith?" the elf repeated weakly. "I-I don't think so. Merlin you need your sleep."
Briskly Legolas tucked the covers in and left the room. Suddenly it had become awfully cold Merlin noticed.
~
The sound was almost unperceivable, so soft was it. Merlin lifted his head from the pillows reluctantly and gently placed his feet on the cold wooden floor and walked to the window.
The moonlight bathed the field that was now free of cows, in a ghostly white light. The cows had been gathered in and were sleeping in the barn. It was predicted that the night would be a frosty one.
Merlin's breath steamed up the window and he brushed it away with his sleeve. Dancing under the starry, black sky was a tall and graceful figure.
The younster swiftly grabbed a tunic and pair of boots and putting them on, padded out of the front door and around the back of the building to the field.
The song could barely be heard over the sound of the grass swaying in the cold wind.
Legolas seemed not to be aware of the bitter temperature for he wore only a simple homespun white shirt that had belonged to Esema's husband and a pair of trousers. His feet were bare as they skipped over the damp ground.
His melody was simply in tune but hauntingly beautiful.
"To the Sea, to the Sea! The white gulls are crying, The wind is blowing, and the white foam is flying. West, west away, the round sun is falling. Grey ship, grey ship, do you hear them calling, The voices of my people that have gone before me? I will leave, I will leave the woods that bore me; For our days are ending and our years failing. I will pass the wide waters lonely sailing. Long are the waves on the Last Shore calling, In Eressëa, in Elvenhome that no man can discover, Where the leaves fall not: land of my people for ever!"
His face was alight with happiness as he sung the lyrics that had imprinted themselves into his mind. He was so caught up in the moment that he didn't heard Merlin approach and jumped slightly when his name was called.
"What are you doing?" Merlin hissed.
Legolas beamed widely. "Beautiful, beautiful Merlin," he sang happily and catched the man's wrists, pulled him into the dance.
They spun around. Or rather Legolas spun, Merlin was dragged around also. "Everything's so simple!" Legolas cried, his cheeks rosy from the exercise.
Merlin tried to pull away but Legolas' grasp on his wrists was too tight. Finally he gave up with a sigh and danced as well.
The elf prince was giddy with moonlight and starlight. That night everything seemed so simple, perfect.
"Merlin, I'm going to sail away!" Legolas laughed breathlessly. "I'm going to sail back to Valinor!"
"No!" Merlin protested and stopped dancing. "You can't."
The moment deflated and the prince also stopped and stood staring at Merlin. "Why not?" he asked in a quiet voice that already knew the answer.
"Because.... I need you," Merlin whispered. "I need to you take me to Minas Tirith. From there, you can go where you like."
The silly smile returned to Legolas' face and he embraced the young man that was like a brother to him in the past year. "Thank you Merlin," was all he said.
Merlin nodded and was glad that Legolas could not see the tears that were starting to trickle down his face. He had grown to love Legolas immensely. The fiercly independant elf who every so often needed a shoulder to cry on and a warm hug of support. Merlin had been all of that, and would willingly be that for the rest of his life as long as it meant that Legolas stayed with him.
He wished that Esema could be more of a friend than a mother, but that was not her way. He knew that and did not regret it so much. He needed a friend.
Merlin had watched jealously for many years as couples walked past, laughing and talking. Everyone else it seemed, had friends. Except from him.
And then this strange, battered and weary elf had literally fallen into his life. The first few days had been awkward, Legolas had been reclusive and unwilling to talk. Then he had opened up like a flower under the sun. He told Merlin many things. He told Merlin about the outside world in such vivid detail that the man felt that he had wandered the paths of Mirkwood, passed beneath the boughs of Fangorn and climbed the lofty peaks of the Misty Mountains.
And now, Legolas was planning to leave him. Leave Merlin alone and friendless. He had thought secretly that all of this was too good to be true. Legolas deserved some happiness even if it meant sacrfising's Merlins, it would be done.
'Put on a brave face,' Merlin told himself.
He pulled away and smiled at his beaming friend.
"Come, you'll need all your strength if we're to travel to Gondor," Legolas said and this time he took Merlin's hand and led him back inside.
~ Twenty days later: Gondor- the White City~
King Elessar the Elfstone studied the pair in front of him with some scrutiny it must be said. They were travellers from Ithilien or so they said.
One was a young boy clothed in the down-to-earth fabrics that showed that he worked on a farm. He was lanky with sharp, angular features and was about five foot something.
Standing above him was a tall man, he had a cloak around his body and covering his head, but Elessar sensed that he was also willowy in frame. His dark cloak was splattered with mud from the journey as was the boy's.
"Why do you request a meeting with the King?" Elessar asked. His servant had said that it was an urgent message and that he should take it.
"The boy wishes to train as a healer," the taller said bluntly and Elessar was slightly ataken back by his tone.
It was cold and disrespectful, but the King could sense undercurrents of melancholy sadness in it.
"Do not stand in front of me hooded so," Elessar said frostily. "Show yourself."
"No."
"No?!" Aragorn cried with a smile. This man was as stubborn as an elf. Not for a second did he harbour thoughts that it could have been. All the elves were either over the Sea or currently residing in his barracks alongside his soldiers.
"And who do you think you are to deny the King of Gondor?"
Legolas had to bite down hard on his tongue to stop the answer from replying to the goading question. "No one milord," he replied humbly. "Please, let me have my hood up."
Elessar nodded though he was burning to ask why. "So why should I recruit this boy?"
"He is well trained in the art of healing and has a vast knowledge of herbs," Legolas said.
Merlin tilted his head up and smiled gratefully at Legolas.
"Shall we put your skills to the test?" the King said getting up and opening his study door. He led them out of the main part of the palace and into the Houses of Healing.
"There is a small girl with an unknown fever, we cannot reduce it," Elessar said gesturing towards the girl lying asleep.
Merlin coughed at the fumes in the room. Candles were piled in the room, incense burned. They were used frequently in Gondorian healing methods. The room was swetleringly hot.
"I would have thought the healer King would have more sense than this," Merlin said in a low voice and started to put out all the candles. He removed the curtains from the window and opened it so that the cold breeze swirled around the room. He took the jug that was slightly green from all the powdered herbs stirred into it, and upturned it out the window.
It splashed on the ground outside. "Get fresh water and prepare a broth for her, she needs all the strength she can to fight the sickness," Merlin declared and pulled some of the covers of her. She shivered and tugged the remaining one tighter about her.
Elessar nodded, a slight smile playing around his lips. It had been a long time since he had someone stand up to him, in fact it was probably not since his and Legolas' arguments. His heart grew sad momentarily before he turned his gaze to Merlin.
"I will talk to my Master Healer -Khan- about the boy. You may study with him. Khan is always grateful for new students, you are lucky, currently he has no apprentices." Elessar smiled benevolently. "Go to my Steward of the Palace and ask for a room nearing the Healing Houses, tell him that Elessar sent you."
Merlin nodded gratefully and with another quick glance at Legolas, darted out of the room.
"What about you, Taraer?" [lofty one] the King asked with a laugh.
Legolas' heart missed a beat at the sound of elvish across Elessar's tongue and he wished dearly to reveal himself and bury himself in those arms that cared more for the touch of a loved one than a sword or bow. How would Estel react though? Would he be repulsed as Eldarion?
The elf felt tears pricking in his eyes and ran out of the room. As he ran, the delicate cloth of his elven cloak got caught on the rough edge of the doorframe. Legolas did not notice as the cloak dropped from his shoulders and onto the ground.
Elessar's mouth opened as he watched the golden-haired figure that haunted his nightmares ran down the corridor.
"Legolas," he whispered.
~
The prince had to force his feet to pound down on the floor. He nearly slipped occasionally on the wood that had been polished until it was shiny. But at the last moment he regained his balance and carried on with a vengeance.
He drew near the large doors that led down and out of the palace. Standing in front of it was two burly looking Gondorian guards.
"Stop that elf!" Elessar shouted behind him.
My, my, Legolas thought with an inward smile. The years of rich living had not altered the same swift, loping run that had earned Elessar the name of Strider.
The guard's spears lowered down and made an 'x' shape against the door.
Legolas changed direction quickly and fleet as a deer, headed to the right and to the dining hall. There was a shriek of surprise as he hurtled straight past a maid carrying a tray of food. In front of him Legolas saw Arwen Undomiel clutching her stomach, her face was paler than snow.
"Legolas," she gasped and fainted. The gentleman in Legolas wanted to run back and apologise but gallantry wasn't on the top of his list. His chief priority was to get out of Gondor. It had been a mistake in coming. He would go straight back to Ithilien and buy one of the small boats and sail across the sea.
Shamefully, Legolas realised that he had forgotten Gimli. The sturdy and bluntly honest dwarf who had so faithfully wandered the world with him. He really ought to tell Gimli what had happened.
Gimli would be glad to see him back. He would stop you from going across the sea, a little voice in his head whispered.
"No!" Legolas cried. It seemed that everyone was against him finally having what he most wanted. What he most desired. Or so he thought.
Was passing over the Sea something he wanted more than anything else? Truly, was it? The Sealonging was more of a desire. What he really wanted was Eldarion.
Legolas had been through death for that man. Why didn't Eldarion want him back? Why hadn't he ran into those outstretched arms gratefully and sob thanks to Mandos?
Maybe the sound of the Sea would help his confused mind. Legolas headed for the French windows (A.N: I know you wouldn't have French windows per se.) He fumbled with the catch just as Elessar' heavy footsteps signalled his arrival.
Legolas flung them open just in time and took the balcony wall in one leaping bound. His body was slightly woozy from all the emotions rushing about it and the elf stumbled slightly and cried out in pain as his ankle cracked beneath him.
The prince fell to the ground on the soft grass and beat the ground with his fists in anger. He tried to sit up and run again, but heavy hands pushed him back down again.
"Remain seated Legolas," Elessar said softly. "Look at me."
Legolas stubbornly stared ahead, his jaw set and his eyes stony.
"Legolas please," there was a desperate note in the man's voice. "I wish to see that it is my old friend that is sitting before me."
That melted Legolas' steely resolve into lots of small blobs of liquid metal and he turned to meet Elessar's grey eyes. He was surprised to find them watery.
"Ai, Legolas, it is you!" Estel choked and threw his arms around the elf. "Legolas, Legolas," he sobbed into the startled archer's hair. The King pulled back and stared deep into the blue eyes caring not for the astonished onlookers.
"You lead a charmed life my friend."
"Not quite," Legolas said bitterly. "I paid for it."
"I don't care how you did it, I'm just glad to see you back amongst us again Legolas." Elessar leant forward and placed a kiss on both marble cheeks and then placed his hands over the spots he had just kissed.
~
Merlin smiled at the sight of the reunited friends. He was overjoyed to find someone who cherished Legolas as much as he did. Legolas deserved to find some happiness.
If only Eldarion shared the same feelings as his father. If only.
