Author: Mirrordance

Title: Return

Summary: Post-LOTR. Legolas always felt at odds with his home kingdom. Though it's King by birthright, he fled it, building a prosperous colony in Ithilien. Just when all seems well at last, great dangers in Mirkwood call for the return of THIS King home.

* * *

PART FIFTEEN

* * *

      ~Incoming!~ someone yelled, and a stray arrow zipped over their heads as they ducked, until it caught on a nearby tree.  Haldir ran to retrieve it.

      ~Are they trying to kill us or signal?!~ Elladan exclaimed, looking over Haldir's shoulder.

      ~Here comes another!~ Haldir said urgently, taking Elladan by the elbow and pulling them both to the ground.  The second arrow went as wide and wild as that which preceded it.

      ~Is Legolas drunk?!~ Haldir exclaimed, aghast.

      Elladan looked at the Lothlorien soldier with furrowed brows, ~Perhaps he is injured, or… or in some other kind of trouble.~

      Haldir looked thoughtfully at the shaft in his hand.  ~This is not Legiolas'.  And 'tis not lit, Elladan.  And yet… the shots are sparse and solitary… A full-attack would have us more battered.~

      ~This is signal enough for me, mellon,~ Elladan said.

      Haldir nodded in the affirmative, hurriedly gathering his feet and telling his second-in-command, ~I want the lines formed.  We are reclaiming this kingdom.~

* * *

      Thranduil and Gimli looked at the spur of activity from the study window.  They relaxed slightly, knowing their signal was understood and being acted upon.

      "Good job, master dwarf," the King commended.

      "You don't think I accidentally killed anyone, do you?" Gimli grumbled.

      "I think not," Thranduil assured him.  As a matter of fact, the King even felt that those arrows went so wide and were aimed so terribly it would probably miss hitting a tree even in a forest as thick with them as Eryn Lasgalen was…

      The King turned to watch his son, battling with the other elven leader.  The previous pitch dark of the room was by now relieved by the silver of the moonlight.  Legolas was a master in this lethal dance, parrying, attacking, defending… it always swelled the King's heart with pride, to watch one of his soldiers at his very best.  But it made a father shudder in fear.  He would rather not see his son in as fatal a situation as this, skilled though he was.

      Legardo, watching his older brother, was equally arrested by the admittedly glorious sight.  Legolas' injuries hampered him little, and Legardo could clearly see that the prince was holding himself back.  The inefficiency was irritating him, grating at his nerves.  Legolas could end this so easily, and so quickly.  And yet there was a strange, distinct honor to it that he almost envied, if only it just wasn't so damned inconvenient…

      "No more games elf!" Gimli hollered, apparently noticing the same thing, "End it!"

      That sounds entirely too familiar

      But Legardo knew Legolas would have none of that, this time.  He did not challenge Torres to defeat him, that was soon plain enough, because that would have been entirely too easy.  He challenged Torres to teach him.  Or perhaps, knowing just how wonderfully manic his inconveniently honorable brother could be, it was better to say Legolas challenged Torres to convert him.

      ~Still doing the right thing, are we, brother?~ Legardo sighed to Legolas, ~Why do you never learn?~

* * *

      The elf woman was a blasted armful, but Aragorn succeeded in straddling her and pinned her to the ground.  She struggled and growled and clawed like a wild, caged animal, but the human King was stronger (and probably wilder…).

      He held her against the floor, and looked up just as Legolas disarmed Torres, body and soul.

      The Mirkwood prince's knife slashed upward across the air in a wide arc, and Torres twisted to avoid the blow, his blade catching it at the descent as Legolas made another well-aimed strike.  The warrior in him was tenacious, and though the elf often entertained many unfounded doubts about his other capabilities, the warrior in him moved surely and swiftly, and knew no bounds.

      Another strike, and Torres' blade clattered to the ground.  He hurriedly whipped around to see where it landed, but froze when his neck felt the cold edge of Legolas' sword.

      Torres looked at Legolas in the eye, and stepped closer to the blade.  Legolas stepped back to keep from harming him.  Torres smiled, dryly, though his eyes glinted in appreciation.

      The doors burst open with the harried arrival of Elladan, Haldir, and their other comrades.

      ~Surrender and you shall come to no harm!~ Haldir said to the Forgotten Elves coolly.

      A moment of silence.

      Decisions were being made.

      Torres raised up his arms in surrender.

      ~No!~ Yasmina exclaimed, shifting uselessly against Aragorn's useless grip, as the weapons her people had commandeered from the Eryn Lasgalen armory clattered to the ground.

      The Kingdom has been reclaimed.

* * *

      The Forgotten Elves were ushered into the dungeons.  Thranduil was still uncertain of them, but they were being treated very fairly by his subjects, albeit very warily.  Torres he ordered into his main hall, guarded by three burly soldiers although he was so cooperative he seemed to present no threat at all.  As a matter of fact, he seemed rather… relieved

      The King of Eryn Lasgalen stared down the other elven leader, wondering what in all of Arda to do with him.  Thranduil was still shackled-- although the chains have been cut, the cuffs still adorned his wrists because someone misplaced the blasted keys.  Nevertheless, they lent him more menace, did nothing to dim the authority he exuded as he sat upon his throne, pondering the elf who had just threatened him and all that was his.

      ~What would you have me do?~ he asked Torres, thinking perhaps, if he cannot solve the problem, the fellow in question might.

      ~I would have us killed,~ Torres said coolly, ~Or very properly locked up until forever.~

      ~It's not in my taste,~ the King said with a slight frown marring his features.

      ~Well,~ said Torres wryly, ~We do live to please you, sire.~

      ~Do you now?~ Thranduil murmured, thinking.  He turned to his subjects, ~Take him to his quarters.  Guard him carefully.  I shall give the matter more consideration.~

* * *

      Aragorn walked about the camp, seeing to the welfare of his soldiers.  It seemed all of them would escape this little episode mostly unscathed.

      The camp was busy with general merriment.  Soldiers sat about their fires, relaxed and comfortable.  They would look up at him in startlement, then stand and bow hurriedly and pretend to be busy with more 'useful' things. 

      Well.  It seemed the King of Gondor was back in form too, though he honestly much preferred to sit and laugh with them.  The blasted crown was like an insurmountable wall…

      "A fine victory, sire," one lieutenant told him.

      "Thank you," Aragorn nodded at him.

      "I've heard it said you have a penchant for finding trouble, sir," the young man dared, "Is this true?"

      There was a light in his eyes that amused Aragorn.  It seemed the soldiers whom he infiltrated the palace-fortress with wasted no time in spreading Elrohir's claims. 

      "A trait you and I seem to share," Aragorn told him, mock-gruffly.  The soldier stiffened.

      "Sire!" he exclaimed, "I meant no offense, I mean, truly—"

      Aragorn's lips curved from a growl to a smile as he chuckled, patting the stammering lieutenant comfortingly as he pushed his way past.  He liked their awe and respect, he appreciated these as necessary to a King.  But he was distinctly human too, and jokes and laughter were inextricably a part of who he was.

      He felt a pair of eyes watching him keenly, and he found Andrada's face in the outskirts of the camp.  She truly was like a ghost, she blended so well with anything that surrounded her… a curious feat, for a woman so inalienably beautiful.

      He strode toward her.

      ~Madam,~ he greeted, bowing slightly.

      ~Elessar,~ she said, bowing before him in a naturaully elegant way, ~You did well.~

      ~I would love to take credit for the victory madam,~ he said with a smile, ~But it is Legolas' more than anyone else's.~

      ~I did not mean this siege,~ she told him coolly, ~It is rather plain to see it was not your achievement, Elessar, give me some credit.~

      He laughed, surprised at how she did not bother at all with mincing her words.  ~My pride is pricked,~ he kidded, ~And now I find myself at a loss.  I know not what you refer to.~

      ~Legolas,~ she said, ~You did well by him.  You've taught him much.  He is restored to us at the last.  You should know you have a great part in it.~

      ~Aye,~ said Aragorn with sham gravity, ~All his dirty tricks, he learned from me.~

      ~Do not make fun,~ she snapped at him, and for the first time in a long long time, he felt like a berated schoolboy.

      ~I'm sorry,~ Aragorn said, his lips quirking in amusement.

      ~I am trying to thank you,~ she told him burusquely.

      ~I think I'm missing that,~ he admitted.

      ~You are a good man,~ she said after a breath, ~Your legend on the field of battle is just one amongst a list of life-victories.~ She bowed before him reverently, ~ou are one amongst the best of Kings,~ she declared, ~But better yet… one amongst the best of people.~

      He looked upon her with furrowed brows.

      ~Thank you,~ he said quietly.

      She straightened and nodded.  ~All right, now where in all of Arda does one find that blasted courage of yours?~ she sighed as he opened his mouth to say some humble, denying thing, ~Don't bother, boy.  How do I look?~

      ~Resplendent,~ he told her indulgently.

      ~I see you are also one amongst the best of flatterers,~ she said, frowning though her eyes danced, ~Wish me luck.~

* * *

      The Healer, a beautiful elf who could have been as old as his mother was looking at him hesitantly, as Legolas worked to bind his wounds in her territory.  He put one strip of the white cloth over another, and she frowned, professionally displeased with his handiwork.

      ~That will not do,~ she told him sternly, ~I will not have you leaving my office in such a manner.  It would be an embarrassment.~

      ~I refuse to be treated for so trivial a thing,~ he said evenly, finishing up his work and looking down upon his bound chest.  ~It's not so bad.~

      ~Just like your father,~ she sighed, ~Well I do not want it to be a reflection upon my work.~

      ~Fair enough,~ he said, ~Go tend to the others, madam.  I have things well in control here.~

      She looked at him, profoundly displeased.  She opened her mouth to say something, when the doors opened and Andrada's head popped into the room as the elf-woman peered inside.

      ~Lelia,~ Andrada greeted her old friend with a smile, ~I thought you would still be here.~

      The Healer blinked at her.  She turned to Legolas and asked, ~Do my eyes deceive me or could you see her as well?~

      ~I shall speak with you later,~ Andrada laughed, and it was the most youthful and beautiful Legolas had ever seen her.  ~Tend to the royal little monster.  I will have a word with Thranduil.~

      With that, she vanished down the hall, closing the door behind her.  A stunned Lelia walked numbly after her.  Legolas smiled to himself.  Things were coming full circle at last, with all of these delightful and strange little returns.

      He reached for his tunic, and to his dismay, the entire display of his bandages crumpled to the ground.  Sighing, he stooped to pick them up.

      ~It is much easier to mend someone else,~ he muttered, and looked up just as Legardo stepped inside the infirmary.

      ~I recalled you were injured,~ Legardo said wryly, ~Just checking to see if you're still alive.~

      ~Apparently I am,~ said Legolas, matching his dry tone, ~Are you disappointed? Or have you come to remedy the situation?~

      Legardo ignored the barb, and glanced at the unglamorous pile of cloth-strips upon his older brother's hands, ~One thing I can do better than you.  May I?~

      He did not wait for a reply, and Legolas held his breath as his younger brother stood behind him, and took fresh bandages from one of the closets.

      Legardo standing upon his bare back… by habit it sent a chill through him.  He was a warrior, and he learned fast.  This was an elf who had stabbed him once, and all his instincts were crying to turn and face this old adversary.  At the same time as the onset of all these hesitations, however, was a test, he thought.  Can people change? Can people live down the ills of their past? He had trusted Torres, and he could extend the same courtesy to his own brother.

      Besides, it was almost like a dare.  And though the hairs at the back of his neck spiked, having Legardo behind him and being at his mercy, he refused to be cowed.

      ~I wondered if it would still be there,~ Legardo said quietly, running his fingers across the old scar Legolas wore upon his back, the one that had come from his dagger, the near-fatal wound that was created by his own hands.

      ~It is fading,~ Legolas said quickly, and for some reason, he knew it would no longer be a lie, this time.

      ~Good,~ Legardo murmured, as he bound his brother's wounds, his hands warm and gentle.

      ~How fares your own injuries?~ Legolas asked.

      ~I was bitten,~ Legardo said flatly, and as Legolas was about to whip around to face his younger brother, Legardo impatiently held his shoulders still, ~Blast it, Legolas, I'm working here!~

      ~Why didn't you say so?~ Legolas retorted.

      ~What could you have done?~ Legardo replied evenly, ~I must leave, you know.  I feel their rage and their hunger inside of me.  This is very bad for you, because you can bet I'd want to eat you first.~

      ~Leave and go where, brother?~ Legolas asked him quietly, and the sincerity of that simple word, brother, was sending a heart-breaking, bittersweet and soul-shattering warmth through Legardo's battered soul.

      ~Perhaps,~ replied Legardo, catching his breath at the tears that suddenly lodged upon his throat, ~Perhaps over the sea.  I have a feeling they might have things to ease me.  You've seen it, haven't you? The sea?~

      ~Yes,~ Legolas replied, recalling the breeze, and the waves, and the gulls… the barest memories of it were stirring him, sending fire and longing through his veins, ~It is part of who we are.  The journey, I think… the journey could complete me.~

      ~I suppose I'll see you there,~ Legardo said coolly, knotting the bandages neatly.  He despised goodbye's.  So he stepped back and looked at his work with satisfaction instead.  ~See? Well done, eh?~

      Legolas turned and faced his brother with a tentative smile.  ~One talent I will yield to you.~

      Legardo bowed at him gamely, ~Thank you, sire.  Much appreciated.~

      Legolas chuckled, and stared upon his brother's face.  His heart was heavy, and he could not keep it from feeling as it did. 

      ~Does ada know?~ he asked.

      Legardo shook his head.  ~Not just yet.~

TO BE CONTINUED…

Original Character Guide:

Lesandro was the much-beloved heir to Mirkwood and Legolas' older brother, until he was murdered in the 2800's. 

Legardo is Legolas' younger brother, and was the murderer of Lesandro, as Legolas finds out in "Exile."  He tries to kill Legolas too, but fails and is imprisoned.

Lord Sala is the cowardly but opportunistic Mirkwood politician who tried to take the throne from King Thranduil by accusing Legolas of Lesandro's murder.

Lady Andrada is an old elf woman who fell in love with Thranduil but staged her own death to escape her unreturned love and subsequent despair in Mirkwood.  She staged Legolas' death as well, to keep him from being a pawn in Sala's ambitions.

Torres – the leader of the Forgotten elves

Yasmina – Torres' beloved wife, also one of the Forgotten elves

THANKS TO ALL WHO TOOK THE TIME TO READ!!!

THANKS TO MY REVIEWERS: platy, cotume, mystic23, insanechildfanfic, elessar*lover, keithan, koriaena, stoneage woman, sodalite, msl, tychen, gwyn, starlit hope, jenzy, dragonfly32, forever-mortal, halandleg4ever and deana :)

To keithan: don't worry about it :) I'm already so thankful that you take the time to read! :)

THANKS TO EVERYBODY!!! This fic is actually already done (with the two last chapters which will most likely be posted at the same time) but I'm trying to pace my posts and keep my options open in case a reader points out an inconsistency I can still correct.  Anyway, 'TIL THE NEXT POST!!!

I'm hard at work on my next fic, with will be angst-heavy.  It's a tragedy.  I was thinking, I've written three fics on how Aragorn and Legolas met, and two on how they parted ("Estel" and "Journey's End"), which I want to make into a round-number three with one more.  But I want to make it different.  "Estel" made Legolas a mortal.  "Journey's End" made him a servant of the Valar.  I always want to put a different kind of spin.  I might put a preview on my next post.  I'll see how it comes out.  I do not post things that dissatisfy me or I'm not certain I can finish so we'll see :)

THANKS AGAIN AND 'TIL LATER!!!