Sorry this was delayed, guys, but I haven't had any time for computers recently. School's a mess.
"Your highnesses, welcome home."
Legolas and Eirthriel looked grimly at the guard, both wondering why he seemed rather cheerful. Together they walked silently to the main hall, where they would take the seats of ruling, which had been their parents—and by all rights, still should be.
They didn't want the seats. They wanted what they could never have—their family back. Teraien excluded, in that. They wanted their mother, and wished for their father to be well when they stepped into the throne room.
They wanted that most of all, wanted him to be well.
They wanted it so much, they thought they were seeing things when they walked in and saw the same thing they had seen nearly every other time they had walked into the throne room.
The father was sitting on his throne, a crown of berries and autumn leaves on his head: a tribute to the season and the success of their people in overcoming the threat they had lived with throughout their history in the wood.
"Father?" Eirthriel murmured, her mouth hanging open for a long moment. "Legolas?" she asked, turning to her dumbstruck brother.
"Father?" he asked, frowning. "Are you well, or have my eyes been enchanted to see what is not there?"
"You see correctly, my dear children. I have been made well, by a great healer."
"Great indeed," Legolas agreed, kneeling before his father. He clasped his father's hands gratefully, resting his forehead to the cool skin.
Thranduil smiled and lightly lifted his son's head, brushing the silvery blond hair back from misty eyes. "Many times this healer has done things worthy of praise for not only our family, but the kingdom, putting their welfare before her own. I have offered her a place here, for the rest of my time on these shores."
"You plan to stay many years then, Father?" Eirthriel asked insistently.
Thranduil chuckled softly and nodded. "I have my strength and my family once more. What more could I possibly find anywhere else? Besides, I wish to see my children married."
Eirthriel blushed, her eyes darting to Selerind before returning to her father.
Legolas's lips quirked in a shadow of what once would have passed for a smile, but slowly shook his head. "I am sorry, Father, but if you are well, I shall not remain."
Eirthriel paled as the implication sunk in. "No! You can't do that! You are going to live, Legolas, and you're going to stay here while you do it!"
He smiled faintly, face serene. "I have no desire to do so, Eirthriel. It is merely a matter of time now. I am not needed."
"I need you," she insisted, scowling at him.
Slowly he shook his head. "You do not. You have Selerind."
"And you would leave me with no brother at all? How can that be a good thing?"
"No brother would be better than Teraien, would it not?"
She sighed. "Yes, but when it is a choice between no brother and you, there is not a choice to be made. You can't just… go."
"Why not? You shall travel to the Undying Lands eventually. I shall be there."
"Perhaps," she allowed. "But I want you here, with me."
"You do not need me, any more than anyone else here does. Not with Father well once more." Legolas's brain caught up with the situation after a moment, and he looked to his father with a frown. "How has this happened, Father?"
Thranduil smiled faintly, and looked beyond his son to the one who had stood in the shadows of the mostly empty room, listening to every word. "Well?"
Slowly the healer came forward, her head bowed slightly. "There is one who needs you, young prince," she whispered softly. She took a deep breath and drew the mithril medallion from her cloak. "As my mother mad a pledge to your father with this sign, so I do to you. You offered your friendship time and again, though I tried to refuse. If you accept care of this pledge, you accept your responsibility not only to me, but to these woods, for my mother came to assist in their care, and spent her life trying to battle the darkness within it. That darkness has been diminished, but remains in remnants, as it shall for many years. You are needed here."
With hands that shook Legolas reached out and pushed the dark cloak back from black eyes which shimmered with the stars above them.
I don't need anything from anyone. He could still hear her saying that.
He had retorted that she just wouldn't admit it. Now she had. "What pledge?" he whispered at last, running one finger lightly against the hollow of her cheek, the sunken curve attesting to how close to death she had come… and how weak she yet was.
"That should you desire my aid, you need but send the medallion to me, and I shall come, as my mother would have if she still walked upon this earth when your father acted upon their agreement."
"And my pledge to you in return?"
"That you will always regard me as a great ally. That should I require the might of your title, you would render it as willingly as I have rendered my own skills to assist you."
Looking down at the elf he had believed had perished moons before, Legolas took a moment to compose himself. He took a deep breath and slowly lifted her eyes so she was looking at him. He nearly stopped when he saw her fear. "Then you reject the pledge I have already made you?"
She frowned, her watchful eyes sparkling over the guards who were retreating at a small sign from Thranduil. "What pledge?" she asked cautiously.
"The one I made by leaving the sign of my connection to these woods with that medallion in your flet."
Understanding flickered for only an instant, before confusion won her dark eyes once more. She held out the mithril and jewel pendant to him, her head tilted, requesting an explanation.
"I left it for you," he murmured softly, closing his hand over hers, neither taking the pendant not allowing it to fall from her fingers. "As a sign that you carry my heart, my will to live. That is a greater pledge than you would impose upon me now."
She looked at their hands, and bit her lip. "Yes," she agreed softly, her hand tightening on the medallion that had meant so much to their parents. "What would you ask of me, then?"
He smiled slightly, but shook his head. "My pledge has no cost. I give it freely, but only ever to you. Whether you accept it or not, I have made it, and I shall live, or die, by it willingly."
Nenya's eyes flickered to his father, then his sister, but she paused nowhere for more than a second. Slowly she drew a deep breath. "Then what shall it mean to me, this pledge that is given so freely?"
With his free hand he cupped her chin, lifting her gaze to his. "I would like it to mean the world to you, Nenya. I would have it be the sky and the woods, so I could give everything you love to you as freely as I give myself."
"Love? I know little of love." She turned her head to the side, pulling her chin from his grasp.
"You know enough," he whispered intently, tightening his hold on her hand. "Nya?" he asked softly, reaching up again to run his fingers lightly over her cheek, though she kept her face turned from him. "What will you decide?"
"That is a higher price than I came willing to pay," she stated after a while, her voice trembling. "I shall not render a decision in such a matter so quickly."
"Take whatever time you need," he agreed softly, moving so she was again looking up at him. "But remember all that has passed," he added, lowering his head until they were only a breath apart, until he felt the small tingles race over his skin as they always had when he drew so close to her. "All of it," he whispered softly, brushing his lips over her cheek even as he withdrew, being sure she closed her fist over her pendant as he registered the slight shiver that shot down her spine. "I shall be here, awaiting whatever answer you find is the one right for you."