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.

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PART SIXTEEN

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      She walked before them like a dream, like a queen.  Though her clothes were old and weathered, she was a picture of gracefully aging opulence, and no one questioned her as she sauntered past.  This was a woman who could do any damn thing that pleased her.

      Andrada strode into the King's hall, and he looked up sharply at the unwelcome intrusion upon his deep thoughts.  His mouth hung open, and Andrada relished the stunned look upon the oft-composed monarch's face.

      ~Sire,~ she said reverently, bowing before him.

      ~Andrada,~ he breathed, awed, ~You…~

      ~I've been dead too long,~ she told him evenly, straightening, ~I wish to return to your kingdom, if you would still have me.~

      He rose from his seat, and walked towards her, each step a memory of all the years of her absence, each step closer to reclaiming a past he had long been wishing to forget.

      ~How…?~ he asked.

      She drew a vial from the folds of her robes, ~A concoction of mine.  It feigns death.  I administered the same to Legolas years ago.~

      He glanced at the vial, and his eyes widened in realization, ~You mean that crazy blasted boy knew all this time that you were alive? Why did he not tell me?~

      ~It was not his secret to tell,~ Andrada said evenly.

      ~Why did you leave?~ he asked her, stopping a foot away.

      ~You know why,~ she replied tersely, ~You've always known.~

      And it was the truth… one he was as loathe to admit now as he was before.  Her love was not his to take, at least… not then.

      ~Why did you return?~ he asked.

      ~Because we all must return to the places we've fled,~ she replied, ~Sooner or later.  Fate works in strange ways, and you eventually find yourself where you began, changed and wiser, for all the good and the bad of it.~

      ~You've not changed,~ he said, his eyes raking upon her face, ~You've not changed at all.~

      ~Maybe wiser then,~ she smiled at him wistfully.

      ~It was you,~ he said softly, ~It was you who saved Legolas years ago.  And it was you who brought these armies back to aid us.~

      ~I gave my word to the queen, my lord,~ she said, and the mention of his long-dead wife once again created a barrier between them, and shaded his eyes.

      ~You've redeemed it well,~ he said evenly, ~You have my greatest thanks.  Naturally you are welcome here, not merely by your deeds, but of… of who you are,~ he hesitated, ~You've long been missed.~

      Her eyes glistened, and she could have left things like that except… except she's waited too long for this moment to settle for so less, with as many things unsaid between them as they had when she left.  She did well by the quuen, she had.  She understood this now.  She no longer had to regret wanting the things she's always wanted, because they all had a right to pursue their happiness, and she has never done so at another's expense.  She paid dearly and lengthily for these realizations, and now that she was here, she will get exactly what she wanted.

      ~Missed by you?~ she asked boldly.  

      He stared at her for a moment, and said: Well…yes.

      ~Few others could tolerate you, Andrada,~ he added, smirking.

      She smiled at him, and nodded.  ~I thought so.~

* * *

      They gathered in the King's main hall, pondering the issue of what to do about the Forgotten Elves in their custody.  To kill them was of course, tempting and also undoubtedly out of the question.  To allow them to roam about freely was also a risk. 

      "There must be a middle-way," Gimli declared, "Banish them or some such thing."

      "I will not have my problems unleashed out elsewhere," said Thranduil.

      "Valinor," Legardo said with finality, "Let them sail to where they may find peace."

      Legolas met his younger brother's gaze evenly, and said nothing. 

      "The night of the new moon nears," Elladan reflected, "When the temptation to return to their darker ways is heightened.  Short of tying them up altogether in shackles of mithril, how do we intend to keep them from harming each other, or those who will sail with them?"

      Andrada's eyes lit up, "I have just the thing."

      "Yes," Thranduil agreed, appreciatively, "That concoction of yours.  The one that creates a death-like sleep."

      "I shall have them made in short order," she said with a nod.

      "I suppose the question is how to make them drink it," said Elrohir wryly.

      "Torres might," Aragorn pointed out.

      "If one of us drank it as well," said Legardo, "They should have nothing at all to fear."

      "If no one has a better idea," said the King of Eryn Lasgalen, "This shall be our course of action."

      The room was met with silence; it was as much of a solution as the situation allowed.

      Thranduil nodded, vastly pleased.  "It is settled then."

* * *

      Legolas had been assigned by the King to gather the shipwrights and workers to create the transports.  Aragorn offered the services of his soldiers towards helping to escort the Forgotten Elves towards the Anduin, and was duly accompanied by his brothers and Haldir.  Gimli was otherwise occupied by the King of Eryn Lasgalen, who was satisfying his curiosity with the dwarf his beloved son somehow befriended.  Legolas wished for company other than his people's… the idea of being at their mercy still struck him with fear and uncertainty.  He also desperately wished his assignments didn't necessitate so much contact with them…

      Taking a deep, emboldening breath, he stepped inside the shipwrights' offices.  The vast room fell into a momentary silence, before a mad shuffling as they hurried to stand and bow to him.

      ~My lord,~ they murmured reverently, bowing as he entered.

      ~Rise, please,~ he said, ~The King requires your assistance.~

      ~He seeks to pass into the seas, sire?~ asked one of the men with wide eyes.

      ~Not just yet,~ Legolas assured him, ~We require a transport befitting a group of as much as four hundred elves.  The Forgotten ones are to be sent away, where they may find peace.~

      ~My mind would be more appeased by their deaths,~ one of the workers muttered, and the room fell to a hush.

      Legolas' eyes glinted, and he looked about the men with a dangerous light.

      ~Do most of you feel this way?~ he asked them.

      Silence.

      ~Answer,~ he commanded, unwittingly replicating the tone of his father, as if it was so easy and perhaps, given his lineage, given his ultimate destiny, the power he exuded was nothing short of being as natural as breathing.

      ~Some of us, sire,~ said the cowed worker.

      Legolas stepped towards him, and said in a gentler tone, ~It's not a question of what best lends peace to your mind, sir.  For you are already prviliged as it is not having to be the one in their cursed, unfortunate shoes.  It's a question of responsibility.  A responsibility that you and I have, to aid those who need us.  Especially when theirs is a fate that could have very easily belonged to you or me.  Is this clear to you?~

      ~Yes, sire,~ the other elf replied meekly.

      Legolas took a deep breath… he wondered if his father knew the kind of barriers he would face with this assignment… probably, he decided.  The King did very few things randomly.  Everything had some sort of a point or reason.  There had to be a reason why he was assigned to this duty, and why the King had adroitly wrested Gimli from his company.  This was probably a test.  He wondered how he was faring.

      ~Now we must all do our jobs properly,~ Legolas said to the occupants of the room in general, ~We must give that which this fate demands of us.~

      The weight of his words, and his conviction lent fire into that space.  Swirling thoughts were fleetingly entertained that, perhaps, it was not their golden prince that had returned to them.  Instead, it was the elf who would one day be their King.

* * *

      Lord Sala caught the King in his hall, looking out his window in reflection at the busy activities below.

      ~Sire,~ Sala bowed before the sovereign, ~I've looked into the matter, as you requested.~

      Thranduil turned to face Sala, a curious smile upon his face.  There was, of course, no better source of court-insider information than an intrigue-hungry gossip such as Sala.  And naturally, there was also no more cooperative elf than one who has sinned against the King and desired favor.

      ~What did you discover?~ Thranduil asked him.

      ~I do not think you would be surprised to know,~ replied the elf-lord, ~That your people would by now follow the Prince to the ends of the world.  He is honest, and his skill is unparalleled.  All the already-honorable things he's done and said have thrice mutated to deeds ten-times greater, as word spread to those who may not have seen him first-hand.  He is a legend alive.~

      ~Yes, of course, but how does he fare?~ Thranduil asked.

      ~His hesitations are dimming, I think,~ Sala answered, ~Prince Legolas knows what he must do, he will not be kept from his duties.  Or his destiny.~

      ~Does the throne have a successor?~ Thranduil asked.

      ~Other than myself, sire,~ replied Sala wryly, ~I can easily say so.  But from the look upon your eyes, you've known this.~

      ~Your counsel is always invaluable,~ Thranduil told him evenly, ~Do you know, I've spoken with the dwarf and he said to me, he said he finds this life and this people has wronged my son too many times to be deemed underserving of him.~

      ~I do not think Legolas feels the same way,~ Sala said.

      ~You are right,~ Thranduil's eyes lit with fiery pride, ~The dwarf told this same observation to Legolas days ago and do you know what my son said? He said, even in such circumstances, he will never cease to be ours.  He never has.~

      ~He is a good, honest servant, my lord,~ Sala said pensively, almost displeased with his own approval, ~The boy has taught me much about what this crown means.  He is a credit to you, yes.  But better yet, he is a credit to us all, as a people.  His road here was long.  But I do hope it ends with us at last.~

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 READ AND ALL WHO REVIEWED!!!

THANKS TO: silvertongue, lotrfaith, starlit hope, tychen, msl, gwyn, stoneage woman, elessar*lover, roué souls, konzen, halandleg4ever, dragonfly32, platy, cotume, mystic23, insanechildfanfic, keithan, koriaena, sodalite, jenzy, forever-mortal, deana, kit cloudkicker,

To msl: no, the next fic will have no connection with my series.  I'm an obsessive compulsive, so the series ends as a trilogy.  I like numbers that feel 'round' and 'complete' so I end this one with three :)