Chapter Sixteen: Legolas Returns Home
News spread quickly that Avathar had offered himself to Legolas as a servant, and that the Prince had agreed. There was much quiet talk and whisperings as to why the Prince had agreed, but none dared to speak openly. They knew that once the Prince had his mind set on something, it was difficult for anyone to attempt to change his mind. Yet the question was: why did he do so? After all, they reasoned, even the Prince himself said to be wary of Avathar. Why, then, did he accept his offer as a personal servant?
"The Prince is bewitched." some muttered under their breaths.
Avathar was given a horse to mount, and he rode at the Prince's right hand, ready for any command he might receive. He was quiet, and did not speak unless someone attempted to converse with him. He spent his time watching and listening carefully to all that was said or done.
After a fortnight, Legolas reached his home. The Elves raised their voices in song, overjoyed to be home at last. When the palace gates opened, Legolas dismounted from Arod. Beside him, Avathar followed suit. They passed through the halls until at last they came to the throne room. Amidst a great golden throne sat Thranduil.
"Adar! Adar! I have returned!" Legolas called to him.
King Thranduil stared momentarily at his son, hardly daring to believe his eyes. Then he rose from his throne and embraced his son.
"Ion nín! My dear, beloved Legolas!" Thranduil cried happily. "Na vedui, you have returned to me!"
The pair exchanged affectionate and warm greetings. Avathar stood still, watching everything with his dark eyes.
"This is Avathar, my servant. I met him on the way." Legolas said.
Thranduil turned his gray eyes upon the servant. Avathar met the King's gaze coolly. The King looked at him for awhile.
"Mae govannen." Thranduil said at last, not looking at Avathar.
The servant bowed.
"The pleasure is all mine, aran. Ever have I heard of your greatness and desired to see you for myself." he said.
Thranduil barely nodded to him in reply.
"Well, come Legolas, and tell me everything that occurred to you since last we were together." the King told his son fondly.
Legolas followed his sire out of the room. Avathar went behind them, looking around him carefully. Already, he could see the similarities between Thranduil's palace and Gil-celeb's palace. He knew, however, that Thranduil built his palace in replica of Gil-celeb's palace. Both were carved from living rock in the sides of mountains by Dwarves. And they were cleverly concealed. Avathar thought Gil-celeb's palace was better.
"Shall I take you to your room?" Legolas asked.
"If you wish." Avathar replied.
He followed the Prince as he led him through various corridors until they came to a section of the palace concealed and heavily guarded. Legolas showed Avathar to a small room that was fully furnished.
"This is your room. My room lies right next to yours. There is a door that leads from my room to yours if need arises." Legolas said.
Avathar inspected his room. Lodging meant very little for him. All he cared for was for his plan to work.
"It is nice. Le hannon." he said to Legolas.
"I am glad you like it. I shall leave you for now." Legolas told him.
When the Prince was gone, Avathar smiled to himself.
"You are kind, far too kind, young Prince," he said.
*********************************************************************************
Legolas returned to find his sire still standing by the throne room entrance, waiting patiently. Then the pair made their way to a private sitting chamber. Food and drink were brought to them, and they ate and drank leisurely while listening to a singer. Legolas was content.
"Very well, Forfirith!" Thranduil told the singer.
"Welcome home, ernil." she said.
Legolas smiled warmly at her then thanked her.
"You may go now." Thranduil told her.
After Forfirith left, Thranduil and Legolas began to speak. The King wanted to know every detail of his son's journey. What most interested and intrigued him was the intense friendship between Legolas and Gimli.
"A Dwarf you say?" Thranduil asked, bemused.
"Indeed, sire. His sire was of the ones you caught." Legolas said.
Thranduil shook his head with a small laugh.
"It is strange, my son. Your friendship with the Dwarf is very amazing. Our kinds have been at war with each other and there is a constant hatred and feud between our two peoples."
Legolas smiled.
"It was not so in the beginning." he told his sire.
"What do you mean?" Thranduil inquired.
"At first, we were wary of each other and showed our hate for each other in ever way possible. It was in Lórien where it grew quite climatic, and where it ceased. I know not what it is sire, but something within me stirred. Under the fair mallorn trees, while we put our sorrow and toils aside, I began to think. Why should I detest him? What had he done to me? Then I realized that pride was the main cause, and also custom. We are accustomed to things, and so we do them blindly, not once stopping to think why we do so. Custom is so many times wrong, yet no one dares to question it because then they would be seen as outcasts or odd. I realized that if Middle-earth was to be saved, all of its inhabitants must at least respect each other, if not love one another. I saw myself mirrored in him. In some ways we are alike, in others different. Yet I did not let the differences come between us ever again afterwards."
Thranduil leaned back in his seat and inspected his son carefully. Legolas had the same eyes as his mother, sapphire blue and clear. He even had her temperament, for the most part. Yet he had his sire's hair color and resembled him closely. The King could hardly believe that nigh a year ago, his son had left a young Elf, still new and inexperienced in the world. Yet, now, as he listened to him, he knew his son had grown very rapidly. The Quest had done a fine job of maturing him. Pride stirred within his heart; Thranduil wished Celebrindal were still alive. Eru knew how he missed her, and how proud she would be of Legolas.
"Legolas, you impress me very much. Words truly fail me. When you left here, you were quite innocent for an Elf. Now, you show wisdom. This War has aged you beyond even our reckoning. In appearance you are still young, but in mind you are older, far older. You learned many important lessons, but perhaps the most important thing you learned is love. There are many types of love, my son, in this world. The type you have for Gimli is a most honorable one. Indeed, as you have said, we often follow customs because our predecessors followed them. It is only natural to do so, and to not do so would appear rebellious or odd, as you have put it. I honor and respect you very much." Thranduil said.
Legolas smiled at his father broadly, eyes glowing.
"Oh, sire!" he cried.
Then he embraced his sire and wept silently.
"I wish you to know that I am quite proud of you, Legolas. You have grown into a fine Prince. If only your mother was here," he said.
"I miss her." Legolas whispered.
"So do I."
"Did you love her?"
Thranduil was quiet for a moment.
"I did, and still do."
"Do you not love another, adar?"
"I do." Thranduil said in a low voice. "And you, my son? Is there no fair maiden that has captivated your heart yet?"
Legolas released himself from his sire's embrace and flushed.
"Ah, you do! Who is she?" Thranduil asked quickly.
"She is the fairest maiden that has ever walked this earth. Her skin is white and clear, her silver hair is long. Her eyes are most entrancing, a lovely gray-blue. Alas that she is wedded!" Legolas said quietly.
Thranduil's heart stopped.
"What is her name?" he asked softly, knowing the answer.
"Míriel, sire, Princess of southern Eryn Lasgalen. Her name fits her, for she is indeed a jewel, a most precious jewel."
Thranduil closed his eyes momentarily. When he opened them again he smiled weakly at Legolas.
"You should go and rest, my son. Good night." he said.
"Good night, sire! Elei velui!"
Then Legolas rose and went to his room, and rested immediately.
Sindarin Translations:
Ion nín: my son
Na vedui: at last
Mae govannen: well met