Yes, I know a two-part Epilogue is unorthodox, but that whole sequence of events wrote itself out as short insights, and I didn't want the same to happen for the very ending, Legolas' return to Mirkwood. The first little bit here should really have been in the other part, but it got forgotten, and was much too important to miss out. My bad.
Can I make it up to you by promising another story? It's already in the works. Keep an eye out for 'Imperfection', and while you're waiting go read the short 'You'll be in my arms' based on the RotK Annie Lennox song and tell me who you think the pairing is. - (Shameless plugs)
Gold star for Sesshyangel. I'm from England, hence the spelling...
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"Somebody looks like the cat that got the cream." Gimli muttered to no one in specific as Elrohir strolled in, late, for breakfast. The elf thanked the maid as she laid out a pastry and juice for him and disappeared back into the corner of the room. Moments later, Gimli was forced to splutter his juice over the table as Elladan, who had entered just after his brother, proceeded to kiss Elrohir soundly across the table.
"Gentlemen." Aragorn scolded. Two pairs of grey eyes met his own. "Not at the breakfast table." With a sulky look, Elladan took a seat beside his brother and whispered something in his ear that made him laugh out loud.
"Will Legolas be joining us for breakfast?" Arwen asked, her eyes dancing with laughter at her brother's antics.
"No, I fear he is much too tired." Elladan answered, mock-seriously.
"Yes, we did keep him up rather late." Elladan's façade wavered, and cracked at Elrohir's comment. Aragorn rolled his eyes as they sought calm once more.
"So much for the dignity of elves." He muttered to Arwen, who hid her grin behind one hand.
"Something tells me the cream was particularly good last night, Master Dwarf." Frodo spoke, unable to contain a chortle of laughter at the expression on the dwarf's face.
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People were flowing into the city from the surrounding woods as the call for the gathering went out. Never before had there been so many of his people in the centre of his kingdom. The King watched with a heavy heart as his people - so war-torn and segmented - came together in the new found peace. Celeborn, Lord of the Golden Wood, stood at his shoulder - a step behind him in respect to his position in his own home. The alliance that had been drawn up between the long-estranged forests would ensure peace between the two as Lórien faded and its people moved into the more northern wood. As a sign of respect the Lord had chosen to stay for the wood's last words to its fallen prince.
Elves of all kinds stood in the clearing - the largest open space in all of Mirkwood. Silvan and Sindar and fragments of other cultures long scattered, they stood together in mourning. Already line upon line of graves stood in silent testament to the many hundreds that had fallen as Dol Guldur had opened its gates. At their head, a single grave lay still open. Dol-en-Ernil, it stood upon a rise as a leader to those already interred. Here the Great Elven leaders stood and watched the gathering grow around them.
With such a crowding of people, it was not so surprising that a small number were lost amongst them, especially when five were so small and one was cloaked in darkness. A small stir was caused by Gimli's presence, but any ill-thought comments were stilled by others; reminding them of the word brought by Gandalf. The fellowship had caused great friendship to grow between the strangest of war-brothers, he had said. Hobbits had brought their salvation to them, and dwarves and men and Istar had fought alongside their prince until he had fallen, his body never to be returned.
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Legolas walked through the crowd as though in a dream. The twin's hands on his shoulders kept him on track at they wandered through the crowds, his eyes on the ground to avoid his identity being revealed. The twins had concocted some great plan, but he found his determination wavering as he longed to look up and meet his father's eyes. But no, it would do no good. The plan would be kept, for in it he knew he would have the best chance to talk to his father before the crowd erupted.
Silence descended as King Thranduil raised his arms.
"Hurry." Legolas whispered to the twins, knowing he would need to get into position before the speech started. They left the others behind in the crowd, surging onwards to the rear fore of the crowd and circling around behind the King.
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King Thranduil took a moment to compose himself as the elves fell silent around him. Only the noise of the trees was left, and it was soothing to him. Autumn was bringing a hint of yellow and red to their leaves and each breath of wind brought a spiralling descent. He took a breath.
" Ai! laurië lantar lassi súrinen,
yéni únótimë ve rámar aldaron!
Yéni ve lintë yuldar avánier
mi oromardi lisse-miruvóreva
Andúnë pella Vardo tellumar
nu luini yassen tintilar i eleni
ómaryo airetári-lírinen.
Sí man i yulma nin enquantuva?
An sí Tintallë Varda Oiolossëo
ve fanyar máryat Elentári ortanë,
ar ilyë tier undulávë lumbulë;
ar sindanóriello caita mornië
i falmalinnar imbe met, ar hísië
untúpa Calaciryo míri oialë.
Sí vanwa ná, Rómello vanwa, Valimar!
Namárië! Nai hiruvalyë Valimar.
Nai elyë hiruva. Namárië!"
The King looked out at his people, and saw their sorrow. "Valar protect the son taken from me. Take him to your breast and nurture him, for he is gone from my protection. Let him bide awhile in your halls, Oh Mandos, for his soul will be weary. Let him meet again with his mother, whom we both lost so young. Let him live with his people, for in their presence he has always been Prince and Lord." Thranduil's composure seemed to crumple, if only for a moment, and one single tear escaped his eye. He held himself tall as the wind carried the cries of his people to him. But he would be strong for them. The wind carried Celeborn from his side, and replaced him with another cloaked in darkness. Cloaked in the material of Lórien.
"My father." This shade whispered, voice roughened with tears. "Mourn me not overly soon, I would have a little more time at your side." He turned slowly, torturously slowly it seemed for the one stood at his shoulder.
"My son." The words were cracked and broken with emotion. "May this not be some spell, some trickery. I would have you here by my side."
"Then here I will be."
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(And they all lived happily ever after. The End.)
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Song can be found in the Fellowship of the Rings, in the chapter 'Farewell to Lothlórien' with a translation. Also listen carefully in the extended Fellowship, I've been told Galadriel sings it there as well. (poor old me, only with the standard edition. Bummer)
Simply put, it talks of the leaving of Valinor, and of those who might make it back one day. As Thranduil is Sindar and never passed over the sea, he shouldn't really be the one singing... but hey... artistic licence.
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Split persona, Laebeth, Iridia, Lady Janelly, legolaslover, Deb, Blaise, Jedi-Bant, kel, sylvie, Kitty and Sesshyangel - Thanks SO MUCH for your support and reviews. You guys rock.