A/N: New chapter at last!! I'm terribly sorry for the delay and thanks to all of you great reviewers who supported me these last weeks, especially eck, val and dragonfly32 who had the misfortune to review after I had a particular rant... (I won't get into details for those of you who were lucky enough to not know about it) I love you guys!
This chapter is somewhat shorter than the last ones. This is because chapters 11 and 12 were supposed to be one, but since it kinda got out of hand and much too long I decided to split the chapter in two. Chapter 12 is already written and beta'd, so I should post it within a couple of days as soon as I have finished editing it, so come back soon to check!
Now, answers to reviews!
eck: I believe most of the questions you had after reading chapter 10 will be answered after reading chapter 11... And thanks for posting your review for chapter 9 again! BTW, yes, it would seem suspicious it would just leave... Besides, it had a *plan*, hadn't it? *g* As for the too short Aragorn scene, you might be right and I will think about writing more when I revise this story (which should happen very soon). Now about the 'technical error', after your remark I tried doing it myself (I'm a very conscientious woman *g*). I laid on my back on the ground, arms behind my back as if the wrists were tied together (and you were right to assume they were in the story, I thought I had written it somewhere but I'll remember to add that too when I revise this story), and tried to come back to a sitting position. And I had honestly no problem doing so, without helping myself up with my arms. I don't think I'm an alien or something but... I dunno...
Dear readers, let's make this story interactive! While laying flat on your back with your arms behind your back, can you sit straight up without the help of your arms? Write the results of this experiment in your next review!
val: Thanks for your review! I hope this will not be the last I get from you! ;-)
dragonfly32: Thanks to you too! And the same that val applies to you as well! Besides, knowing if Gimli will be ok... Hmm... You'll have to wait a little while to have the answer to that one!
TheImmortalIris aka BlueTopaz: Glad to see you back! BTW, ff.net put numbers after the names to make sure 2 users no longer had the exact same names, and they gave the no number version to those that registered first. And I'm glad I didn't get a number on my name!
As always, millions of thanks to Candice who always do an amazing job when betaing this story!
All right, let's go on with the next chapter!
Chapter Eleven
Homecoming
Cindra awoke feeling rather sore and disoriented, sorer than when, while being no more than a child, she had accompanied her father on a long journey onto the violent seas laying north of Norea.
All she could tell about her actual situation was that she was lying on something soft. She slowly opened her eyes as she felt a diffuse heat pass over her aching shoulder. A comforting heat.
Her vision was blurred but by turning her head slightly she managed to make out the silhouette of someone standing right beside her, long blonde hair framing a pale face.
When she tried to get up a hand landed on her forehead and gently pushed her head back on the pillow.
"My name is Dínendal," a soft voice said, "and I am King Thranduil's Head Healer. You are in the process of being healed. All will be fine now."
Strangely calmed by the smooth voice she relaxed and closed her eyes again before slowly drifting back to sleep, immediately forgetting the last few seconds as if they were no more than a dream.
* * * * *
Gimli looked up as they reached the high stone doors that guarded the entrance to the city of Mirkwood's Silvan Elves. Two more days had been required to get to the north-eastern part of the forest. While the end of the journey had unrolled with no noticeable incident, Gimli suspected that the group of Elves that had 'welcomed' them as soon as they reached Mirkwood had been secretly following and escorting their party - he had almost seen one of them earlier that day, no more than a swift shadow moving in the thick woods - and that the quiet of their travel might be due to their presence.
Whether they were keeping an eye on them or only ensuring their Prince reached his destination safely he could not tell. While never travelling those lands he had heard much about them and the dangers they harboured thus encountering none seemed highly improbable.
Gimli grew sure of the presence of an Elven escort when in the middle of the previous night all were woken by a beastly cry close by which ended abruptly and never to be heard again.
However what Gimli feared most was not one or many of the famous spiders of Mirkwood but no other than King Thranduil.
As far as he knew Thranduil did not think highly of Dwarves or Men. But Aragorn had been there before, and now as the King of Gondor he and his men would be welcome in his palace. Gimli felt however, that his own welcome might be more questionable.
And as he watched the magical doors open slowly and soundlessly in front of their company, his doubts renewed.
Little did he know that Legolas' thoughts had led him to similar thinking. He knew his father well, and an Elf's grudges - especially that Elf's grudges - could be held long.
While not being over amiable when Aragorn came to Mirkwood with Gollum, Thranduil had not thrown him out, assuming the new King of Gondor and his men would be greeted as any guests was not too much of a stretch.
Neither was Thranduil uncaring when it came to the wounded - the Battle of the Last Alliance taught that lesson to the Mirkwood Elves, at least - thus Legolas was confident Cindra would have been healed as soon as she arrived. Especially since Mîrdolen, Legolas' older brother and second son to the King, was the one to carry her there.
Surely the presence of a Dwarf among their company would be counterweighted by his own presence, Legolas hoped.
"Come, my friends," he eventually told his companions once the doors were fully open, "and follow me into the city of the Elves of Mirkwood."
All his four companions stepped forward, following Legolas behind the fortified walls. They soon stopped while the gates closed behind them as they immediately saw King Thranduil walking in their direction. Right behind him were Mîrdolen and an older Elf that Legolas immediately identified as Séregon, his father's adviser.
Thranduil was moving with an Elvish grace and a kingly stature, long blonde hair cascading upon his shoulders. Legolas noticed that he was wearing his full courtly attire, which meant he was about to welcome them as the ruler of this land.
Once Thranduil stood in front of them he spoke in Westron, his voice as clear as crystal. "I have been notified of your impending arrival. I am glad to see you reached these lands safely."
Legolas knew the words to be no more than a diplomatic greeting. The worst was still to come. However what pained him most was that not once had his father cast him a look. This boded no good. Was he angry with him? Did he resent him for bringing a Dwarf into his kingdom?
Despite the fact that behind Thranduil, Mîrdolen was sending Legolas a confident look, he still did not understand. Why was his father not looking at him? He had been away for many years now, had taken part in several adventurous journeys, risking his very life and his father would not look at him.
Thranduil turned his attention to Aragorn.
"King Elessar, it is my pleasure to greet you here with your men," he said.
"Pleasure shared, King Thranduil," Aragorn replied with a bow.
Look at me. Come on, look at me… Legolas found himself craving for his father's attention, a look, a gesture, anything that would indicate he had at least noticed his presence. Anything that would indicate Thranduil was glad his son was home for *he* was glad to be home.
The coldness in Thranduil's eyes as they rested on Gimli, the Dwarf had expected as much as dreaded, as well as the words the Elven King spoke next.
"Dwarves have never been welcome here," Thranduil said dryly.
Legolas shivered. No, he would not dare. He would not deny Gimli his hospitality. He would not. If he did though, Legolas would leave with Gimli at once no matter what his father threatened him with.
From the corner of his eyes he noticed Gimli clenching his fists and Aragorn tensing. Elven archers on the fortifications stood still, waiting for their King's instructions.
"But my son's friends are," Thranduil concluded.
Legolas instantly let go a silent sigh of relief while Gimli unclenched his fists and Aragorn relaxed.
"You will be my guest as long as you wish to remain in my kingdom, Gimli son of Glóin," Thranduil added.
A bit bewildered at first at seeing the Elf knew his identity, Gimli diplomatically answered with a bow, "I am truly honoured, King Thranduil."
At last, Thranduil turned his attention to Legolas.
Along the centuries Legolas had learnt to tell when Thranduil was to be considered his Lord and when he was to be considered his father. And at the moment the older Elf in front of him was undoubtedly his Liege.
"Legolas."
"My Lord," he answered cautiously with a rapid bow.
Legolas watched as Thranduil's features slowly softened, as his father's - no longer his Lord's - eyes filled with love and affection while a soft smile crept upon his face.
After those last weeks of tension, among which several days of torment under the yoke of the creature, all he wished at that very moment was to let himself go and take his father in his arms. But he knew Thranduil would not allow it, not publicly at least and not in front of guests nor in front of half his people.
Whether Thranduil saw the gleam in his eyes and interpreted it correctly, Legolas would never know. All he *did* know the next instant was that Thranduil took one step forward and pulled his son in his arms.
Legolas suddenly found himself feeling like an Elfling again, tightly held as he was in his father's embrace. He immediately returned the hug and wrapped his arms around Thranduil.
"Mae govannen bar, ion nîn," Thranduil whispered at his son's ear. (A/N: "Welcome home, my son.")
Legolas closed his eyes, fighting back the tears as he answered, his voice slightly catching in his throat, "Cormamin lindua ele lle, ada." (A/N: "My heart sings to see thee, Father.")
* * * * *
Thranduil gestured towards the chairs encircling the table of the council's room.
"Please have a seat," he told his three guests - Aragorn's men had been dismissed and allowed to go rest - while he eased himself into the chair at the head of the table and Mîrdolen in the one on his left.
Legolas sat on Thranduil's right, Gimli next to him, and Aragorn on the other side of the table, next to Mîrdolen.
"I am afraid Mîrdolen was not able to provide much information concerning the circumstances of your coming," Thranduil said.
"We were in a bit of a haste," Legolas explained, "for that young woman we carried was badly poisoned and required immediate healing."
Thranduil nodded. "According to what Dínendal told me, she was indeed badly poisoned. Hopefully she is out of danger now, though still unconscious. You should be able to visit her as soon as she wakes."
All seemed glad to hear that news.
"Now will you please tell me what brings you here, for I suppose you did not come only to visit me," Thranduil added, his eyes laying on Legolas.
The younger Elf suddenly felt extremely embarrassed, though he made his best not to show it. He knew that he would not be there if chance had not led them to Mirkwood, and that he would have probably delayed his return home a bit longer.
It was Aragorn who answered the Elven King. "Two boats from Norea arrived on the Gondorean shores."
Mîrdolen and Thranduil simultaneously arched an eyebrow in a very similar way, which brought an involuntary smile upon Gimli's lips. The Dwarf now had no more doubts about Mîrdolen being a relative of Legolas - and a brother at that he guessed.
"Aboard them were four Noreans," Aragorn continued. "One was controlled by some evil creature able to possess anyone and greedy for power. The other three came to warn us of its coming. I immediately set off with a group of men and the three Noreans to try to stop that creature. Legolas and Gimli volunteered to accompany us. That poisoned young woman we sent you is one of those Noreans. The other two were killed during the journey."
Thranduil noticed his youngest son flinch slightly at that.
"A Norean," Thranduil said. "Interesting… I thought their existence to be no more than a legend of Men. But I guess they would normally not venture as far as Mirkwood, which would be why I cannot remember any being here before." He paused. "Then I believe you followed the possessed man this way."
"He *did* head north but was killed by Orcs," Aragorn rectified. "I believe the creature switched to one of the Orcs for when we encountered them in our turn, it…" he hesitated, "switched to Legolas."
Thranduil immediately turned to his youngest son. "Is that true?" he asked, a hint of worry in his voice.
"It is all right now," Legolas assured, "it only lasted a few days, thanks to Gimli for it is he who noticed and freed me from the creature."
For the first time since he had greeted him, Thranduil looked at Gimli. The Dwarf had noticed the Elven King had up till then deliberately avoided glancing at him but he did not care - it was probably better that way. He soon regretted being ignored by Thranduil for the King's gaze was a heavy one.
"Then I believe I owe you all my gratitude, Master Dwarf," Thranduil eventually said.
Gimli gave a short nod. "It was the least I could do, King Thranduil."
Thranduil nodded back and then turned to Legolas. "We will hold a celebration to let our people rejoice at the return of their youngest Prince…"
Legolas shook his head and spoke quickly with embarrassment. "It will not be necessary, I - "
Thranduil interrupted him with a movement of his hand, indicating he had not finished. "Furthermore, rarely have I had so many renowned guests under my roof and their presence should be celebrated as well."
While Legolas meekly agreed with a nod, Thranduil went on.
"Despite the fact that my own son did not give me any news," as Thranduil said that, said son felt the tip of his ears redden while the other son smiled broadly, "we got word of the exploits of the members of the Fellowship. While we were rather busy here on our own during the War of the Ring, Mirkwood is not a land so remote that we did not hear about the Quest." He paused. "We will wait for that young Norean to recover before holding it so that she can -"
Thranduil was interrupted as an Elf suddenly burst into the room. He was in full armour, slightly dusty as if he just arrived from a horse ride.
"Hîr nîn, bedim - " he began but stopped as he noticed the presence of guests - he had obviously expected to find his King alone. (A/N: "My Lord, we went - ")
"Faelernil," Thranduil greeted, "I did not expect you back so soon. Did anything go ill?" Noticing the other Elf was staring intently at Legolas and did not seem about to answer, he added, "As you can see, your youngest brother is back and brought some friends with him."
Faelernil briefly gazed at Aragorn then at Gimli, much longer this time. The Dwarf suddenly felt uncomfortable, even more than when it had been Thranduil watching him. He instantly decided he liked Legolas' other brother much more. Faelernil then looked back at Legolas, even longer than he had Gimli. If the older Elf was glad to see his brother he was doing a good job hiding it - along with any kind of emotion.
Faelernil eventually turned to his father. "I bring news from west Mirkwood and I need to speak with you."
There was no need for him to add 'alone' since Thranduil immediately understood. The Elven King turned to his guests.
"I believe you must all be tired by your long journey and could do with some rest. Rooms have been arranged for you all since we knew how many you would be." He then turned to his second son. "Mîrdolen, will you please show our guests their rooms? Legolas, I suppose you still remember where yours are."
Mîrdolen nodded and they all took their leave of Thranduil.
* * * * *
When Cindra slowly opened her eyes, the intricate engravings on the ceiling above caught her attention. The sight of those leaves delicately carved, intertwined to form graceful larger patterns, was most hypnotic.
She slightly shifted so as her head was more comfortably laying on the pillow.
Wait. Ceiling? Pillow??
She sat bolt upright but surprised by the sudden subsequent dizziness laid both her hands on the bed - a bed? - for support.
An Elf maid soon noticed her movement and walked to her bedside, a warm smile on her face.
"Ah, I see you are awake already," the Elf said. "Your friends will be most pleased to learn that."
Cindra hesitated while the Elf gently pushed her back on the bed.
"You are not fully healed yet and still need rest," the maid insisted.
"Pardon me, but what is this place?" Cindra asked cautiously.
The Elf looked stunned at the question. "This is the House of Healing of King Thranduil of course," she answered as if it should have been obvious.
Giving a quick look around Cindra noticed for the first time the presence of other beds in the room, much like her own. Several of them were occupied. The Norean stared back at the Elf for a few seconds. King Thranduil… The name did ring a bell, she knew she had heard it before though she could not tell when.
"Who?" she eventually dared asking.
As she had expected, the maid looked utterly shocked. "I am afraid your memories must have suffered much if you do not remember who King Thranduil is," the maiden said, worriedly checking her forehead for a fever.
"And… And when did I - "
"Hush, child, no more questions!" the Elf gently instructed. "You should rest now! Worry not, your friends will be allowed to visit you soon."
With those words the maid turned round to give her attention to other patients.
Child?
* * * * *
Legolas gave a circular look across his rooms. Nothing had changed or moved since he had last been there. The same green and silver colours, the same hangings, the same paintings, the same bows, arrows and knives - all worn former weapons of his - hung on the walls. Not the thinnest layer of dust, he noticed as he absentmindedly laid a hand on a wooden piece of furniture.
It had been only a few years, an insignificant instant compared to an Elf's lifetime, but he had changed so much in that short time that they felt like a whole Age.
His eyes rested on one of the bows hanging on the walls. A longbow - his first. The one he acquired his first archery skills with. Many memories were tied to that object that Gimli might call a 'mere piece of wood with a string', and some surfaced when his hand hovered over the handle, tenderly caressing the wood like one would a lover.
Instinctively his fingers closed around the handle and he took the bow down. It seemed lighter and smaller than it used to be - of course, it was an Elfling's training bow, so unlike the war bows he had used ever since. He quickly tested the string, his fingers wrapping around the area in its middle worn out by thousands of arrows shot - it was still good.
He picked a random arrow on the display, his thumb checking the feathers. They were frayed and would no longer allow accurate aiming. Without really thinking he notched the arrow, his forefinger and middle finger on each side of the tip, pulling the string until his phalanxes reached that familiar spot below his cheekbone while aiming at nothing in particular.
A knock on the open door brought him out of his reverie. He turned round abruptly, forgetting he was holding a fully armed weapon and now pointing it at his visitor.
Standing on the doorstep, Gimli took a surprised step back.
Legolas immediately lowered the bow. "Please forgive me, my friend," he apologised. "I was not expecting anyone."
"Is that an Elvish custom to greet unexpected guests in arms?" Gimli retorted, an eyebrow cocked. "For if it is so I should have listened more carefully to what my father told me about Elves."
"And what is it exactly your father told you about Elves?" Legolas enquired as he put both bow and arrow back on the display.
Gimli shrugged. "I believe it was basically along the lines of never trusting an Elf, though I have to admit that I forged my own opinions along the years."
Legolas would have smiled at his friend if Gimli had not immediately added teasingly, "As I discovered, Elves can be trusted every once in a while for simple tasks such as keeping a fire going for the night..."
Legolas gave him a fake upset look.
"You might want to watch your words more closely, Master Dwarf," the Elf said. "This is an Elven city, and as you might know Elven ears are keen. My kin may not be as indulgent as I am..."
Gimli took it for what it was: half a jest and half a warning. Aye, the Elves of Mirkwood would be more suspicious and wary of him...
----------------------------------
End of Chapter Eleven...
I hope you enjoyed this chapter! And, like I said, chapter 12 will be up very soon! This one will be greatly influenced by the unexpected come back of my comedy muse. I hope it will be as fun to read as it was to write.
But in the meantime... *evil grin* Tell me what you think so far of what I did of (or is it to? *eg*) the Mirkwood Royal family! I'd love to hear your opinion about that, especially since they'll all be largely featured in chapter 12...
Next chapter: "Some Stories are Better Left Untold"
This chapter is somewhat shorter than the last ones. This is because chapters 11 and 12 were supposed to be one, but since it kinda got out of hand and much too long I decided to split the chapter in two. Chapter 12 is already written and beta'd, so I should post it within a couple of days as soon as I have finished editing it, so come back soon to check!
Now, answers to reviews!
eck: I believe most of the questions you had after reading chapter 10 will be answered after reading chapter 11... And thanks for posting your review for chapter 9 again! BTW, yes, it would seem suspicious it would just leave... Besides, it had a *plan*, hadn't it? *g* As for the too short Aragorn scene, you might be right and I will think about writing more when I revise this story (which should happen very soon). Now about the 'technical error', after your remark I tried doing it myself (I'm a very conscientious woman *g*). I laid on my back on the ground, arms behind my back as if the wrists were tied together (and you were right to assume they were in the story, I thought I had written it somewhere but I'll remember to add that too when I revise this story), and tried to come back to a sitting position. And I had honestly no problem doing so, without helping myself up with my arms. I don't think I'm an alien or something but... I dunno...
Dear readers, let's make this story interactive! While laying flat on your back with your arms behind your back, can you sit straight up without the help of your arms? Write the results of this experiment in your next review!
val: Thanks for your review! I hope this will not be the last I get from you! ;-)
dragonfly32: Thanks to you too! And the same that val applies to you as well! Besides, knowing if Gimli will be ok... Hmm... You'll have to wait a little while to have the answer to that one!
TheImmortalIris aka BlueTopaz: Glad to see you back! BTW, ff.net put numbers after the names to make sure 2 users no longer had the exact same names, and they gave the no number version to those that registered first. And I'm glad I didn't get a number on my name!
As always, millions of thanks to Candice who always do an amazing job when betaing this story!
All right, let's go on with the next chapter!
Homecoming
All she could tell about her actual situation was that she was lying on something soft. She slowly opened her eyes as she felt a diffuse heat pass over her aching shoulder. A comforting heat.
Her vision was blurred but by turning her head slightly she managed to make out the silhouette of someone standing right beside her, long blonde hair framing a pale face.
When she tried to get up a hand landed on her forehead and gently pushed her head back on the pillow.
"My name is Dínendal," a soft voice said, "and I am King Thranduil's Head Healer. You are in the process of being healed. All will be fine now."
Strangely calmed by the smooth voice she relaxed and closed her eyes again before slowly drifting back to sleep, immediately forgetting the last few seconds as if they were no more than a dream.
Whether they were keeping an eye on them or only ensuring their Prince reached his destination safely he could not tell. While never travelling those lands he had heard much about them and the dangers they harboured thus encountering none seemed highly improbable.
Gimli grew sure of the presence of an Elven escort when in the middle of the previous night all were woken by a beastly cry close by which ended abruptly and never to be heard again.
However what Gimli feared most was not one or many of the famous spiders of Mirkwood but no other than King Thranduil.
As far as he knew Thranduil did not think highly of Dwarves or Men. But Aragorn had been there before, and now as the King of Gondor he and his men would be welcome in his palace. Gimli felt however, that his own welcome might be more questionable.
And as he watched the magical doors open slowly and soundlessly in front of their company, his doubts renewed.
Little did he know that Legolas' thoughts had led him to similar thinking. He knew his father well, and an Elf's grudges - especially that Elf's grudges - could be held long.
While not being over amiable when Aragorn came to Mirkwood with Gollum, Thranduil had not thrown him out, assuming the new King of Gondor and his men would be greeted as any guests was not too much of a stretch.
Neither was Thranduil uncaring when it came to the wounded - the Battle of the Last Alliance taught that lesson to the Mirkwood Elves, at least - thus Legolas was confident Cindra would have been healed as soon as she arrived. Especially since Mîrdolen, Legolas' older brother and second son to the King, was the one to carry her there.
Surely the presence of a Dwarf among their company would be counterweighted by his own presence, Legolas hoped.
"Come, my friends," he eventually told his companions once the doors were fully open, "and follow me into the city of the Elves of Mirkwood."
All his four companions stepped forward, following Legolas behind the fortified walls. They soon stopped while the gates closed behind them as they immediately saw King Thranduil walking in their direction. Right behind him were Mîrdolen and an older Elf that Legolas immediately identified as Séregon, his father's adviser.
Thranduil was moving with an Elvish grace and a kingly stature, long blonde hair cascading upon his shoulders. Legolas noticed that he was wearing his full courtly attire, which meant he was about to welcome them as the ruler of this land.
Once Thranduil stood in front of them he spoke in Westron, his voice as clear as crystal. "I have been notified of your impending arrival. I am glad to see you reached these lands safely."
Legolas knew the words to be no more than a diplomatic greeting. The worst was still to come. However what pained him most was that not once had his father cast him a look. This boded no good. Was he angry with him? Did he resent him for bringing a Dwarf into his kingdom?
Despite the fact that behind Thranduil, Mîrdolen was sending Legolas a confident look, he still did not understand. Why was his father not looking at him? He had been away for many years now, had taken part in several adventurous journeys, risking his very life and his father would not look at him.
Thranduil turned his attention to Aragorn.
"King Elessar, it is my pleasure to greet you here with your men," he said.
"Pleasure shared, King Thranduil," Aragorn replied with a bow.
Look at me. Come on, look at me… Legolas found himself craving for his father's attention, a look, a gesture, anything that would indicate he had at least noticed his presence. Anything that would indicate Thranduil was glad his son was home for *he* was glad to be home.
The coldness in Thranduil's eyes as they rested on Gimli, the Dwarf had expected as much as dreaded, as well as the words the Elven King spoke next.
"Dwarves have never been welcome here," Thranduil said dryly.
Legolas shivered. No, he would not dare. He would not deny Gimli his hospitality. He would not. If he did though, Legolas would leave with Gimli at once no matter what his father threatened him with.
From the corner of his eyes he noticed Gimli clenching his fists and Aragorn tensing. Elven archers on the fortifications stood still, waiting for their King's instructions.
"But my son's friends are," Thranduil concluded.
Legolas instantly let go a silent sigh of relief while Gimli unclenched his fists and Aragorn relaxed.
"You will be my guest as long as you wish to remain in my kingdom, Gimli son of Glóin," Thranduil added.
A bit bewildered at first at seeing the Elf knew his identity, Gimli diplomatically answered with a bow, "I am truly honoured, King Thranduil."
At last, Thranduil turned his attention to Legolas.
Along the centuries Legolas had learnt to tell when Thranduil was to be considered his Lord and when he was to be considered his father. And at the moment the older Elf in front of him was undoubtedly his Liege.
"Legolas."
"My Lord," he answered cautiously with a rapid bow.
Legolas watched as Thranduil's features slowly softened, as his father's - no longer his Lord's - eyes filled with love and affection while a soft smile crept upon his face.
After those last weeks of tension, among which several days of torment under the yoke of the creature, all he wished at that very moment was to let himself go and take his father in his arms. But he knew Thranduil would not allow it, not publicly at least and not in front of guests nor in front of half his people.
Whether Thranduil saw the gleam in his eyes and interpreted it correctly, Legolas would never know. All he *did* know the next instant was that Thranduil took one step forward and pulled his son in his arms.
Legolas suddenly found himself feeling like an Elfling again, tightly held as he was in his father's embrace. He immediately returned the hug and wrapped his arms around Thranduil.
"Mae govannen bar, ion nîn," Thranduil whispered at his son's ear. (A/N: "Welcome home, my son.")
Legolas closed his eyes, fighting back the tears as he answered, his voice slightly catching in his throat, "Cormamin lindua ele lle, ada." (A/N: "My heart sings to see thee, Father.")
Thranduil gestured towards the chairs encircling the table of the council's room.
"Please have a seat," he told his three guests - Aragorn's men had been dismissed and allowed to go rest - while he eased himself into the chair at the head of the table and Mîrdolen in the one on his left.
Legolas sat on Thranduil's right, Gimli next to him, and Aragorn on the other side of the table, next to Mîrdolen.
"I am afraid Mîrdolen was not able to provide much information concerning the circumstances of your coming," Thranduil said.
"We were in a bit of a haste," Legolas explained, "for that young woman we carried was badly poisoned and required immediate healing."
Thranduil nodded. "According to what Dínendal told me, she was indeed badly poisoned. Hopefully she is out of danger now, though still unconscious. You should be able to visit her as soon as she wakes."
All seemed glad to hear that news.
"Now will you please tell me what brings you here, for I suppose you did not come only to visit me," Thranduil added, his eyes laying on Legolas.
The younger Elf suddenly felt extremely embarrassed, though he made his best not to show it. He knew that he would not be there if chance had not led them to Mirkwood, and that he would have probably delayed his return home a bit longer.
It was Aragorn who answered the Elven King. "Two boats from Norea arrived on the Gondorean shores."
Mîrdolen and Thranduil simultaneously arched an eyebrow in a very similar way, which brought an involuntary smile upon Gimli's lips. The Dwarf now had no more doubts about Mîrdolen being a relative of Legolas - and a brother at that he guessed.
"Aboard them were four Noreans," Aragorn continued. "One was controlled by some evil creature able to possess anyone and greedy for power. The other three came to warn us of its coming. I immediately set off with a group of men and the three Noreans to try to stop that creature. Legolas and Gimli volunteered to accompany us. That poisoned young woman we sent you is one of those Noreans. The other two were killed during the journey."
Thranduil noticed his youngest son flinch slightly at that.
"A Norean," Thranduil said. "Interesting… I thought their existence to be no more than a legend of Men. But I guess they would normally not venture as far as Mirkwood, which would be why I cannot remember any being here before." He paused. "Then I believe you followed the possessed man this way."
"He *did* head north but was killed by Orcs," Aragorn rectified. "I believe the creature switched to one of the Orcs for when we encountered them in our turn, it…" he hesitated, "switched to Legolas."
Thranduil immediately turned to his youngest son. "Is that true?" he asked, a hint of worry in his voice.
"It is all right now," Legolas assured, "it only lasted a few days, thanks to Gimli for it is he who noticed and freed me from the creature."
For the first time since he had greeted him, Thranduil looked at Gimli. The Dwarf had noticed the Elven King had up till then deliberately avoided glancing at him but he did not care - it was probably better that way. He soon regretted being ignored by Thranduil for the King's gaze was a heavy one.
"Then I believe I owe you all my gratitude, Master Dwarf," Thranduil eventually said.
Gimli gave a short nod. "It was the least I could do, King Thranduil."
Thranduil nodded back and then turned to Legolas. "We will hold a celebration to let our people rejoice at the return of their youngest Prince…"
Legolas shook his head and spoke quickly with embarrassment. "It will not be necessary, I - "
Thranduil interrupted him with a movement of his hand, indicating he had not finished. "Furthermore, rarely have I had so many renowned guests under my roof and their presence should be celebrated as well."
While Legolas meekly agreed with a nod, Thranduil went on.
"Despite the fact that my own son did not give me any news," as Thranduil said that, said son felt the tip of his ears redden while the other son smiled broadly, "we got word of the exploits of the members of the Fellowship. While we were rather busy here on our own during the War of the Ring, Mirkwood is not a land so remote that we did not hear about the Quest." He paused. "We will wait for that young Norean to recover before holding it so that she can -"
Thranduil was interrupted as an Elf suddenly burst into the room. He was in full armour, slightly dusty as if he just arrived from a horse ride.
"Hîr nîn, bedim - " he began but stopped as he noticed the presence of guests - he had obviously expected to find his King alone. (A/N: "My Lord, we went - ")
"Faelernil," Thranduil greeted, "I did not expect you back so soon. Did anything go ill?" Noticing the other Elf was staring intently at Legolas and did not seem about to answer, he added, "As you can see, your youngest brother is back and brought some friends with him."
Faelernil briefly gazed at Aragorn then at Gimli, much longer this time. The Dwarf suddenly felt uncomfortable, even more than when it had been Thranduil watching him. He instantly decided he liked Legolas' other brother much more. Faelernil then looked back at Legolas, even longer than he had Gimli. If the older Elf was glad to see his brother he was doing a good job hiding it - along with any kind of emotion.
Faelernil eventually turned to his father. "I bring news from west Mirkwood and I need to speak with you."
There was no need for him to add 'alone' since Thranduil immediately understood. The Elven King turned to his guests.
"I believe you must all be tired by your long journey and could do with some rest. Rooms have been arranged for you all since we knew how many you would be." He then turned to his second son. "Mîrdolen, will you please show our guests their rooms? Legolas, I suppose you still remember where yours are."
Mîrdolen nodded and they all took their leave of Thranduil.
She slightly shifted so as her head was more comfortably laying on the pillow.
Wait. Ceiling? Pillow??
She sat bolt upright but surprised by the sudden subsequent dizziness laid both her hands on the bed - a bed? - for support.
An Elf maid soon noticed her movement and walked to her bedside, a warm smile on her face.
"Ah, I see you are awake already," the Elf said. "Your friends will be most pleased to learn that."
Cindra hesitated while the Elf gently pushed her back on the bed.
"You are not fully healed yet and still need rest," the maid insisted.
"Pardon me, but what is this place?" Cindra asked cautiously.
The Elf looked stunned at the question. "This is the House of Healing of King Thranduil of course," she answered as if it should have been obvious.
Giving a quick look around Cindra noticed for the first time the presence of other beds in the room, much like her own. Several of them were occupied. The Norean stared back at the Elf for a few seconds. King Thranduil… The name did ring a bell, she knew she had heard it before though she could not tell when.
"Who?" she eventually dared asking.
As she had expected, the maid looked utterly shocked. "I am afraid your memories must have suffered much if you do not remember who King Thranduil is," the maiden said, worriedly checking her forehead for a fever.
"And… And when did I - "
"Hush, child, no more questions!" the Elf gently instructed. "You should rest now! Worry not, your friends will be allowed to visit you soon."
With those words the maid turned round to give her attention to other patients.
Child?
Legolas gave a circular look across his rooms. Nothing had changed or moved since he had last been there. The same green and silver colours, the same hangings, the same paintings, the same bows, arrows and knives - all worn former weapons of his - hung on the walls. Not the thinnest layer of dust, he noticed as he absentmindedly laid a hand on a wooden piece of furniture.
It had been only a few years, an insignificant instant compared to an Elf's lifetime, but he had changed so much in that short time that they felt like a whole Age.
His eyes rested on one of the bows hanging on the walls. A longbow - his first. The one he acquired his first archery skills with. Many memories were tied to that object that Gimli might call a 'mere piece of wood with a string', and some surfaced when his hand hovered over the handle, tenderly caressing the wood like one would a lover.
Instinctively his fingers closed around the handle and he took the bow down. It seemed lighter and smaller than it used to be - of course, it was an Elfling's training bow, so unlike the war bows he had used ever since. He quickly tested the string, his fingers wrapping around the area in its middle worn out by thousands of arrows shot - it was still good.
He picked a random arrow on the display, his thumb checking the feathers. They were frayed and would no longer allow accurate aiming. Without really thinking he notched the arrow, his forefinger and middle finger on each side of the tip, pulling the string until his phalanxes reached that familiar spot below his cheekbone while aiming at nothing in particular.
A knock on the open door brought him out of his reverie. He turned round abruptly, forgetting he was holding a fully armed weapon and now pointing it at his visitor.
Standing on the doorstep, Gimli took a surprised step back.
Legolas immediately lowered the bow. "Please forgive me, my friend," he apologised. "I was not expecting anyone."
"Is that an Elvish custom to greet unexpected guests in arms?" Gimli retorted, an eyebrow cocked. "For if it is so I should have listened more carefully to what my father told me about Elves."
"And what is it exactly your father told you about Elves?" Legolas enquired as he put both bow and arrow back on the display.
Gimli shrugged. "I believe it was basically along the lines of never trusting an Elf, though I have to admit that I forged my own opinions along the years."
Legolas would have smiled at his friend if Gimli had not immediately added teasingly, "As I discovered, Elves can be trusted every once in a while for simple tasks such as keeping a fire going for the night..."
Legolas gave him a fake upset look.
"You might want to watch your words more closely, Master Dwarf," the Elf said. "This is an Elven city, and as you might know Elven ears are keen. My kin may not be as indulgent as I am..."
Gimli took it for what it was: half a jest and half a warning. Aye, the Elves of Mirkwood would be more suspicious and wary of him...
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End of Chapter Eleven...
I hope you enjoyed this chapter! And, like I said, chapter 12 will be up very soon! This one will be greatly influenced by the unexpected come back of my comedy muse. I hope it will be as fun to read as it was to write.
But in the meantime... *evil grin* Tell me what you think so far of what I did of (or is it to? *eg*) the Mirkwood Royal family! I'd love to hear your opinion about that, especially since they'll all be largely featured in chapter 12...
Next chapter: "Some Stories are Better Left Untold"