Summerland of the Heart

by Elfriend

Post WotR, Legolas is called home to Mirkwood from Gondor by his father. Thranduil has fallen afoul of dark magic left in Dol Guldur. Legolas is imperiled and his friends go to his aid. Also Haldir. OC AU multi crossover Angst MarySue with substance

6. Summerland Chapters 30 to 36

Naeore Laerien (Summerland of the Heart)

Chapter 30:

Flight of an Arrow

Legolas came to himself slowly, his face in the dirt and his back still pressed to the stone of the stairway. Hot pain stabbed at him, like tiny knives cutting, cutting, cutting the fine threads that still held his soul in his body.

Eleven…he was not going to make it. How could he confront his father when he could barely raise his head from the ground?

Deliberately, the elf placed his hands flat on the earth at either side of his head. Then he forced his arms straight, lifting. His vision swam and he fought the urge to empty his stomach. His arms trembled as though boneless.

Then he heard a voice upon the stairs above him. The mutterings of madness, but a voice that was dear. My father!

"Nai nallon an sén nin, edhelothnya oialë egleriouva hen aur!" It may be that I grieve for my son, but my people will forever glorify this day!

"Ada!" Legolas gasped out almost silently.

He is my father! The onslaught came painfully - as painful as anything that could be done by torture or spell. Memory images assaulted him of clear blue eyes, bright with affection and with pride. He has always loved me.

Legolas choked back a sob. There was no time left - It must be now. For his people, for their freedom, he would do this thing – and then there would be an end.

"Nin mettai túlna vedui!" he whispered. Let there be an end!

Gripping his bow, Legolas scrambled out away from the stairs. The elven prince settled on his knees and took aim, though his vision remained clouded and dim.

Thranduil was hunched forward oddly, moving up the stairs in an almost jerking stride and he held his long cloak around him so that he seemed somehow misshapen.

Summoning every last shred of his strength, focusing every ounce of will, Legolas's cried out, "Ada!!!" Father!!! And it was as if all the grief and unspeakable duty were being ripped from his throat.

As Thranduil began to turn, Legolas let fly an arrow to speed toward his father's heart.

There was no way to recall it when Legolas perceived the triumphant smile that spread across Thranduil's face.

There was no way to stop it when Legolas saw his wife, one of his father's hands tight across her mouth, the other fisted in her hair, holding her upright before him.

There was no way to take it back, after it had passed into her flesh.

As the twelfth gong echoed against the walls of the keep, the searing agony of his soul being torn free seemed to flow naturally from the crippling grief of killing his lady.

Legolas screamed.

Chapter 31:

Faded Hope

Rubbing her temples briskly against the ache that had positioned itself behind her eyes, Meghailin was forced to concede that healing would do nothing for the elves afflicted by this baffling sickness.

She had approached the problem from every angle, but this elf, Brewain, was healthy! Each time she believed she had – something she interpreted as a lock upon his mind; a lock with no key that she was capable of devising with her skills.

Sighing in defeat, Meg turned to report her failure to Serafé, and found her gone. At first, this fact did not overly concern the elf, for she knew how interminably long she had been in healing trance. The headache alone was proof of that. Feia was anxious – restless, she could not be expected to sit quiet and wait. But her friend would be in the elves' camp somewhere; of this Meg was certain.

And Meg remained certain until she had traveled the camp from end to end and found no sign of Feia anywhere. Where could she have gone? Why would she have gone? Meg was badly shaken, and the eleventh gong throbbing in the earth beneath her feet did nothing to calm her. She was just about to set off, on a hunch, for the fortress when Rúmil with several other Lórien elves strode into the clearing as if materializing from the air.

"Ah!" said her brother-in-law, "There you are, my lady." He sounded just as calm as if he had come upon her sipping tea in a garden.

"Lord Rúmil!" Meg exclaimed, "My sister is missing!"

The elf quirked a brow at her, "Not to put too fine a point on it, lady, but your sister excels at being elsewhere than expected. Are you sure she is not missing of her own accord?"

"There are limits to what Feia will and will not do," Meg spoke with absolute authority. "Leaving the camp at this time is beyond those limits."

Rúmil nodded, signaling to one of his company. The elf jogged over and Meg's brother-in-law said, "The Lady Serafé is missing from this camp, spread word amongst the elves to look for anything out of the ordinary which might indicate where she has gone."

"Yes, my lord," the elf acknowledged and moved away.

The Lórien elf returned his attention to Meg. "You appear greatly disturbed by the lady's disappearance, sister," he said. "Were you to multiply your anxiety thrice, you might come close to how my brother felt when he found you gone this morning."

Meg winced, "I assure you; it was not my intent to cause my husband any additional anxiety. But I have my conscience to answer to, Rúmil. Haldir will find our life together trying if he intends to keep me under his thumb when my duty lies elsewhere."

She shook her head and sighed, admitting, "That was not entirely fair."

"No," Rúmil agreed with a small smile, "and yet I do take your meaning." Then his smile broadened into a grin, "The years ahead should prove enlightening for my brother."

The elf that Rúmil had instructed to seek signs of Meg's sister returned then with Suluin. "My lord, my lady," Suluin said, "A sentry discovered these amongst the trees. They lay as though removed in haste and dropped."

A cold fear slithered down Meg's spine as she identified Feia's knife and her sword, her bow and her quiver. "Feia would not willingly go from here unarmed, nor would she treat her gear in this manner. My sister was taken against her will!"

"It was the king," Brewain said, and everyone turned in surprise. The weaver still sat where Meg had left him, but his eyes were shining and aware.

"I saw him take her, but I could do nothing."

XXX

It took a moment for Gimli to react when the spectrous light faded from the tower door. But as soon as he was able to credit his own eyes, the dwarf swiftly entered the heart of Dol Guldur.

Even as he did, the twelfth gong clanged ominously and the earth heaved. From not very far off he heard the scream of an exceptionally strong elf at the limit of his endurance. It was a mortal scream.

"Legolas!" he cried, and almost bolted back out of the tower in the direction of that terrible cry. But, no! If he were to find a way to help the lad, he would find it here.

Within the round room Gimli found the chalked pattern and the blood symbols, and the remains of thirteen candles. One lone flame guttered, nearly drowned in a pool of wax. It would be only moments more! What could he do? What?

Gimli was at a loss. To himself, the dwarf muttered, "I am no wizard and I am no elf! What would Gandalf do? What would The Lady do? That is what I must determine." At thought of The Lady, the dwarf held his hand over the place where he kept her gift. Then with a cry of triumph, he removed the brooch from inside his tunic and laid it upon the stone table.

"I need your light, Lady! The lad needs your light! Please!" he entreated. Nothing at all occurred and Gimli began to despair, but then the brooch flared blindingly bright so that the dwarf was forced to cover his eyes.

When he chanced to peer between his fingers again, it was to see the gentle smile of Galadriel as she reached to touch his face with a hand formed of light. But then the thirteenth candle faltered and died and a last booming gong dropped the dwarf (who was already halfway to his knees before The Lady) onto the stone floor.

"No! It cannot be too late!" He cried.

The light of her coming had eradicated much of the darkness of the spell, but the Lady frowned as she sensed the powerful evidence of evil magic. Then she said, "Perhaps not yet, gentle Gimli! Come!" With that she strode from the tower.

XXX

There was no battle, exactly. From the instant the force of elves had slipped into the trees of Southern Mirkwood undetected, the orc were essentially defeated. Some orc who were brighter than most thought to use the ensorcelled Mirkwood elves as shields against the attack, but according to reports Haldir received from scouts, Rúmil's elves had managed them adroitly.

Haldir had thirty elves with him, but he could only see six of them at the moment. They had fanned out and come upon the orc where they lazed away the day in small bands throughout the wood around Dol Guldur.

The orc were defeated, but it would be long before the elves and their neighbors could be completely free of the threat of them; too many of the creatures had scattered and fled, and the Southern Mirkwood was far too accommodating for their kind. The elves were ranging out to catch stragglers, but not too far. Lord Glorfindel had been adamant that the objectives remain three: free the Mirkwood elves, retake Dol Guldur, and break up the organization of the orc.

Haldir had seen little to indicate organization. The orc were bound by fear of Thranduil, perhaps – but only loosely so.

His elves emerged from the wood into the clearing at the base of the Hill of Black Magic and Haldir counted as they broke cover. Thirty. No casualties, praise Elbereth!

Just at that moment the eleventh gong shook them. One casualty, Haldir amended. One – unless there is a miracle, and soon.

XXX

Elessar bent to inspect the dead orc. It was still warm. The creature had been killed with a blade, and unless he was completely mistaken, it had been the blade of an axe.

Some orc were known to use axes, and lethal fights were not uncommon between them with little provocation, but why had the axe-wielder dragged the carcass of his foe away into the shadows? Why hide it?

The rattle and scrape of more than one shambling orc gait came from inside the fortress heading his way and Elessar faded into a dark corner. When three orc rounded the bend, he dispatched them readily enough, dragging them to join their fellow.

If there were many more orc in the fortress, they were keeping very quiet, which indicated that there were not. Perhaps Thranduil was averse to sharing his new home with the creatures.

He should be returning to his waiting companion, Elessar thought as he cleaned his blade. He had left the elf alone and vulnerable too long! But then the eleventh gong shuddered through the keep.

"Legolas!" he breathed and began to run.

When the former ranger neared the gate he heard the cry, "Ada!!!" It was Legolas, but his voice was dreadful to hear.

As Elessar broke through into daylight, he saw someone fall, cloak flaring about them, backward off the stairs to his right. But then the twelfth gong brought a shattering scream from Legolas and the king of Gondor leapt from the stairs to the left, falling to his knees at his friend's side.

"Legolas!"

A cool silver glow surrounded the elf, who was tense and gasping. Desperately Legolas's eyes sought Elessar's face, but he did not appear capable of sight. Between harsh breaths, through clenched teeth Legolas forced out the words, "Nás sí napant…! Ilye nánan mornië…" It is nearly finished…! All is darkness…

Then the elf whispered, "Úvanimelda onin, Elessar!" Do not leave me!

"Náim sí, Legolas." I am here. Elessar struggled against the debilitating grief, seeking frantically for a way to aid his friend. But as the thirteenth gong heralded the end, the king knew there was naught that he could do to either stem his sorrow or prevent what was about to occur.

Legolas only gave a low moan. The sickly green mist was back, but this time it crackled with energy like lightning, that struck at the silver light surrounding the elf unrelentingly. The elven prince's body jerked spasmodically with each blow, and soon the silver aura was rent in many places. Wherever the light was weakened, there the mist flowed in to overwhelm it.

This is what the destruction of a soul looks like, Elessar thought, horrified. Throwing back his head the king cried out, "Yasse lentar túlnas hen!?" How has it come to this!?

Chapter 32:

Lady of Light

In the midst of his despair, an unanticipated stillness crept upon the king of Gondor, settling over him like a mantle. In wonder, Elessar looked up and beheld a vision of golden light in the form of Lady Galadriel, who smoothly knelt beside the failing prince of Eryn Lasgalen.

She held her hands outstretched and the violent rending of Legolas's soul ceased. With a wave, The Lady dismissed the evil mist that retreated from her, snapping and flashing as if it were a ravening beast denied its prey. Then with a percussive boom, the malevolent thing recoiled upon itself and was gone.

Tenderly, Galadriel gathered the tatters of silver light together until it was radiant and whole. Then She turned her pale hands palms downward and the silver light condensed, smaller and tighter; brighter and brighter, until it disappeared beneath her fingers where they rested over Legolas's heart.

"Cuio!" she commanded. Live!

The Lady bent then, and laid a kiss lightly to Legolas's bloodless lips. "Cuio," she breathed over his mouth and he responded with a breath of his own.

A fleeting smile touched her lips, which she then pressed to the elf's pale brow. "Cuio, Legolas!" she bade him.

The elven prince's eyes fluttered open and Elessar heard Gimli utter a wordless sound of relief. In that moment the king became fully aware of the dwarf's presence beside him. The usually gruff face of his friend was aglow with rapt adoration for The Lady and tears stood in his eyes.

Legolas lay for some time looking around him with shining eyes as though he did not recognize where he was or yet recall all that had transpired. When he moved to rise, Elessar hastened to lend his aid until the elf was sitting up and proved capable of staying that way. But when his gaze fell upon The Lady, Legolas's face twisted with sorrow.

"I have failed, Lady," he whispered, and then with a muffled sob he added, "I have killed her!"

Galadriel laughed gently. It was the sound of a freshet of water – a spring. It was the sound of rebirth and healing. "You do not yet know what task you are to perform, how then are you so sure that you have failed?" The Lady laughed again and Elessar and Gimli felt their hearts lighten.

But Legolas persisted, voice deep and roughened with despair, "I have killed my lady! I have shot her with an arrow!"

The Lady of Light cupped Legolas chin with her fair and luminous hand, "Did you aim for her?" she asked with a smile.

"Nay, Lady," he responded.

"Then perhaps you should go to her for she may have need of you!" Galadriel stood and gestured for Elessar and Gimli to aid Legolas in standing.

When the elf was on his feet, for a moment he gazed at the Lady in dazed silence, and then he lurched into a stumbling run with Lady Galadriel's chiming laughter speeding him away.

XXX

Nenuiel stood with her hands loose at her sides, too grieved and too frightened to weep. They stood not so far away from the keep that she could have missed the sound of her son's final agony. Thirteen. There had been thirteen.

It was over.

Placing a hand on the queen's elbow, Lord Elrond spoke gently to her, "Now is the time, Nenuiel. Let us go forth and see what we may see."

The queen of the Mirkwood elves returned the calm gaze of the patriarch of her people and stood a little taller. "I am ready," she said.

XXX

Elessar bowed with profound and wordless gratitude to Lady Galadriel and then he followed Legolas. As he turned away, he saw Gimli give a start from his rapt contemplation of The Lady and with a bow of his own, the dwarf trailed after.

By the time Elessar and Gimli had rounded the stairs, Legolas already knelt at Feia's side. The king saw that his liege lady lay pinned at the shoulder by an elven arrow to the chest of King Thranduil. Angled upwards the arrow pierced her through, and was stuck in the center of the golden torque Legolas's father wore. Both the woodland king and the woman were quite still.

But Legolas had eyes only for his lady. Anxiously, he ran his hands over his wife's face…her arms. She breathed. Her heart beat steady and true.

"Feia!" he tried to call to her, but his voice was rendered nearly inaudible by the relief that swelled his chest. Even so, her eyelashes fluttered and finally opened. A tremulous smile appeared and she raised her right hand to touch his cheek.

"Legolas!" she gasped, "Pedo nin náim úlôrren!" Say it is not a dream!

Legolas could not force words past his lips, so instead he dipped his head and brushed her mouth light and swift with his kiss, then gripping the arrow firmly in both of his hands; he broke the fletching free with one quick snap.

Feia huffed out a breath at the fleeting pain, but made no other sound. Legolas leaned in very close to her and gently arranged her left arm so that it was held still between them. He looped her right arm over his neck and whispered, "Narist anna nin, Orenya." Hold on to me, my heart.

And she did. Feia tucked her face against Legolas's neck and held on. In a single smooth motion, he lifted her up and off of the arrow's shaft.

She only made the tiniest whimper when the arrow came free, clinging to him with absolute trust. Legolas had intended to ease her to the ground, but instead he continued to draw her to him until she was sitting up in his arms. He placed a hand over the wound and held his lady against his chest, rocking gently. Only then did he realize that he was continuing to murmur to her, "Narist anna nin! Narist anna nin, Orenya," over and over.

Legolas's eyes were wet and he was not sure anymore what he was asking of her; though he was certain it had nothing whatever to do with removing the arrow from her shoulder. But his lady was also weeping and she said, "Nán…Imtar, Imuva, Edhel nin!" I am…I do, I will, my elf!

It was then that Legolas perceived that they were being observed. Nenuiel was frozen where she stood, hands pressed to her mouth. She split her silent gaze between her motionless husband, whose steady breaths were the only sign he yet lived, and her son who was miraculously alive.

"Hen úná e mattarë onin, Naneth," Legolas sent. I do not end this day.

"Then there is much yet to live for," Nenuiel replied, and her elation sang in his mind. But he felt the undercurrents of trepidation and a confusing knot of other emotions as his mother knelt beside her lord.

Elessar hung back unwilling to disturb the scene which played out before him, but when Haldir appeared at a run, he said, "You are early, friend Haldir. Where is your lady wife?"

Haldir had been gazing at Legolas with an expression of wonder, but when Elessar spoke he looked to the king, and began, "I do not know…" but then his eyes grew wide as they slid past the man and beyond, whereby he fell to his knees. "Lady!"

The apparition of Galadriel glided to stand before Haldir and tipped up his chin with her shimmering hand. "Dear Haldir!" she said, and she was smiling when she reached down and kissed the elf on his cheek. Then she stood and said, "And here is your lady with her healing hands in the company of your charming brother." The golden Lady spread her hands in welcome.

Meg curtsied deeply to The Lady, stunned; but when she rose and her sister with Legolas she made a small sound of dismay and hastened to Feia's side.

When Meg realized that Legolas was incapable of letting go of his wife, the healer sighed, "Oh, very well!" and allowed her healing energy to flow through both of them simultaneously. In a moment the wound in Feia's shoulder was gone and the lady was asleep in her husband's arms.

Legolas let out a breath he must have been holding and pressed his lips to his lady's hair. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut. But in a moment the elf began to sag. Soon he was forced, with the healer's aid, to lower himself to lie upon the ground with Feia pillowed against his shoulder. "My lady, what did you do?" he accused, staring up at Meg.

"You will sleep, Prince Legolas. You will sleep until you are fully recovered, and I shall have an end to the healing of you!" Meg said sternly, though she smiled and added, "You will be pleased to know that you are no longer leaking."

"Leaking…?" Legolas queried. But his eyes slid closed in deep sleep, and the last sound that he heard was the buoyant laughter of The Lady of Light.

Chapter 33:

The Hill of Golden Light

With a wink, Gimli handed Meg a steaming bowl of the thick stew which he had prepared and then he sat down on a handy rock between the son's of Elrond in order to eat his own. The dwarf had been in exceptionally good humor since yesterday afternoon and Meg grinned at him winsomely as she thanked him.

The chief reason for Gimli's happy mood sat across the fire between his wife and King Elessar, and was already enjoying his stew. Legolas had slept almost twenty-four hours, and though it would take some days of rest yet before he was fully recovered from his ordeal, he looked better than Meg had seen him in many days. There was behind his eyes, however a fathomless and haunted pain that no amount of the healing she could provide would erase. Time would have to be the healer of that injury.

Time and tenderness, Meg amended as Feia laid her hand upon her husband's arm. Legolas paused in eating to gaze at her. Gently the elf reached out and tucked his lady's hair back, allowing his fingers to dwell upon the smooth roundness of her ear, a tiny smile curving his lips.

They had been like that since they had awakened from healing slumber. Neither the Mirkwood prince nor the Alderaani princess was able to allow much time to go by without touching, as though they each still required reassurance in order to believe that the other was there and alive.

Haldir came to the fire, then, helping himself to a share of the stew and joining Meg on the fallen log she had claimed as a seat. "Most of the parties who followed to harry the yrch have returned," he reported. "Scouts have seen little sign that any of the creatures were quite fool enough to remain in the vicinity. Suluin will lead a company to Eryn Lasgalen tomorrow in order to ensure a safe return for your people, Legolas."

"That is well," Legolas responded. The elven prince did not ask the questions that were on nearly everyone else's tongues. What of the woodland king? Would Thranduil survive? Would he be recovered from his madness and return to rule the Mirkwood elves? Did they want him to?

He did not ask the questions, but his eyes were drawn to the small pavilion that had been erected at the other side of the clearing. Within, Nenuiel nursed her stricken husband who had yet to waken.

By unspoken agreement, the elves of Rivendell and Lórien had swollen and expanded the camp of their woodland kin rather than remain in sight of what had formerly been the fortress of Dol Guldur.

Or what little was left of it. At the thought, Meg found that she was still reeling from all that she had witnessed yesterday on the Hill of Black Magic…

As Legolas's slipped into healing slumber, Meg laid a hand on his brow deepening his much needed rest. She had no remorse for forcing sleep upon the elf. Had she waited, Legolas was sure to have found a thousand reasons to put it off, and she could feel how depleted he was. There was nothing that the elven prince needed to do that could not wait.

Meg stood and looked down at her sister and her sister's concinnate locked in one another's arms. "We are back again where we began, it seems," she murmured.

"Not entirely, lady," Haldir said behind her, draping an arm around her shoulders. Meg turned into her husband's embrace.

"Nay, my lord," she agreed. "Not entirely."

Haldir sighed, holding her tightly, "If I ask it of you, Bereth nin, would you promise never again to leap headlong into danger without me?"

"It was not my wish to distress you, beloved," Meg replied, "though I know I did, and I am sorry for it."

"That is no answer!" Haldir accused.

"Would you really want to be wed to someone who is willing to disregard the urgings of her conscience, Haldir?" she asked. "I cannot make a promise such as you ask of me! The time may come when, by those urgings I would be forced to break it and that would grieve me terribly, for I would always keep my promises to you."

"At the moment, that is small comfort!" He said, scowling. When Meg opened her mouth to speak, however, Haldir placed his fingers lightly over her lips. "Nay, hush!" he said, "You are right. It is only my desire to safeguard you that is speaking. I would not have you compromise your word or your conscience, even for the temporary reassurance it might provide me."

Elrond arose from where he crouched with Queen Nenuiel over the fallen king of Eryn Lasgalen. He held something in his hand and he looked long upon it, his expression serious, but then he tucked whatever it was into a pouch at his belt as though it were of no moment.

Striding to the apparition of Lady Galadriel, Lord Elrond bowed to her, hand to heart. "When my Foresight indicated your touch in the resolution of events here, I greatly doubted what I Saw, Lady. How is your presence here being accomplished?"

The Lady laughed, turning to place her pale hand on the top of Gimli's head. "The heart of Gimli son of Gloin made a bridge for me, Lord Elrond." She responded.

"But the veil…"

"Has been thinning, my lord," she interrupted. "Gimli's faith called to me, and my coming has shattered it. The veil between east and west is gone." She laughed once more, a throaty sound of joyous mirth. "I find myself thinking the strangest thoughts – longing for things I thought were beyond me. I should like to hold my great grandson, Elrond. Is that not remarkable?"

She did not wait for an answer, but said, "Come, my lord. Help me to do that which I could wish had been done long since. She held her hand out to the elven lord and he took it. Together they moved to the stairs leading to the fortress gates. When they reached the bottom, however, the Lady turned to those assembled saying, "Námarië, dear ones."

All those that were able sank to their knees as the luminous fanar of The Lady of Light, accompanied by Lord Elrond ascended the stair into the hulking fortress.

When they had disappeared within, each of those present were silent, keeping an awed vigil. It was as though, as the vision of The Lady was removed from their sight, they were each awakened from a blissful half-remembered dream and all that was real seemed both drearier and more blessed for the experience of it.

Several minutes passed and little occurred. Presently some few elves came to report to Haldir and Rúmil including Elrohir who informed them of the happy news that the day had cost no more elven lives. Blankets were found to lay over Legolas and Feia and also King Thranduil, while Meg attempted a healing upon the elven king. Litters were prepared to carry the three to the camp in the woods. No one even suggested the possibility that they might remain where they were.

As the group moved away from the fortress, however, a resonant sound like the ringing of a clear bell made them all stop and turn as one toward Dol Guldur.

And so they witnessed its end, as first from the upper windows of the central tower, and then from every window – indeed every crack, bright golden-white light burst forth. Brighter and broader the light grew until those looking on were obliged to shield their eyes. And then with a thunderous, crashing roll, the structure fell in upon itself. Then the light was gone.

Dust hung heavily in the air like thick mist. Shortly, as the company watched too stunned to move, through the obscuring cloud Elrond came striding; his cloak billowed behind him and his armor glittering eerily in the mist altered light. Silently the elven lord approached the dwarf, Gimli, and handed to him the brooch containing his Lady's gift.

Gimli's face was so filled with wonder that the grim and serious face of Elrond Halfelven split into a smile. "The Hill of Black Magic must have a new name, master dwarf," he said. "I propose Dol Calenlor, Hill of Golden Light. What say you?"

"I say it is an altogether fitting name, my lord," the dwarf had responded with a bow and a grin, carefully pinning his brooch back inside his tunic.

The dwarf's hands were occupied with his stew for the moment, but Meg had seen him rubbing at the place where the gift of Galadriel was pinned beneath his tunic and his expression was a study in bemusement.

Feia was staring at Legolas, again as though she were afraid to take her eyes off of him for a moment. "Feia," Meg said gently, "I have told you! You must eat."

Feia had awakened earlier in the day, still tucked against her husband's side. His color had been good and the dark smudges were gone from beneath his eyes. His face was serene in sleep, his chest rising and falling with deep easy breaths. At the sight of him thus, Feia had wept.

"I should have been able to guess that you were with child, sister," Meg had said from where she sat, keeping watch over her charges. "You have only one response these days, and it is decidedly damp."

"He lives!" was Feia's reply, "Crying is only my first response. Later I will sing for you. Later I will fly for you if you like!"

"That will not be necessary! I take your meaning – you are happy." Meg had understated and handed Feia a bowl of hot meal with honey and a cup filled with mint tea. "Eat, Serafé, you and the children should not skip meals."

Feia had given a start, "Meggie, are they alright?"

"They are well!" Meg was reassuring, "though I do not recommend that you take any more arrows until you have been delivered of them! I suppose I need not tell Legolas that he mustn't shoot you anymore, for he appeared most distraught over it."

At Meg's reminder to eat, Feia blinked and looked sheepish, digging into Gimli's stew with renewed vigor. The sight of Legolas alive might be enough for her, but she would not starve her babies.

"Everyone is talking around it, but nobody is really saying anything." Gimli complained. "Will Thranduil live? What is to be done about him?"

Legolas did not so much as twitch, but Meg happened to be watching him closely and so she saw the tightness appear around his eyes.

"King Thranduil remains unconscious, though there is no physical reason for it that I can tell," Meg responded to the dwarf. "He had a head injury from the fall off of the stair, but I healed that. He also had some bruising on his chest and a cracked rib, but I took care of those, too. Queen Nenuiel believes that Legolas's arrow piercing the torque is what ended the spell afflicting the Mirkwood elves and also dropped the ward from the central tower so that you could enter there, my lord. The arrow did not kill Thranduil, since it was impeded by the torque, and by Serafé, of course. Had my sister not been in its way, the arrow would have passed through the torque and killed him."

Legolas had set down his bowl and was scrubbing his hands over his face. Meg knew she had been blunt in her delivery, but from her experience of him, she knew that the elven prince tended to prefer things that way.

Startling everyone, Feia burst out with a laugh. Legolas looked at her as though she had gone quite mad, and that made her laugh again, "I am sorry. I am! It is just that, if what Meg says is true, then I succeeded in my mission after all! I just did not anticipate that it would require getting between the legendary bow of Legolas of the Fellowship and his intended target!"

"Your mission?" Legolas asked; frowning as Gimli began to chuckle, "What are you talking about, my lady?"

It was Gimli who answered, "The lady came to Dol Guldur seeking a way that the spells might be lifted other than the death of your father, Laddie. Apparently your wife thought things would go better for you if you were spared that."

Legolas expression was less elvish than ever as a number of emotions flickered in rapid succession over his features. As she observed the play of emotions on his face, Feia wondered idly if the events of the past weeks would make it impossible for her husband to return to a more elven reserve, or if in time he would again be as subtle as the rest of his kind.

"Lady," he began after a stretched silence, but for some moments that was all that he managed to say. Finally he continued, "Anything might have happened to you by your coming to this place, Orenya! There was no hope for me! Why do you constantly risk yourself for nothing? By blessed Elbereth, I nearly killed you, Feia!"

Somehow in the process of his remonstration, Legolas had seized Feia's shoulder roughly. As he wound down, the elf realized he was probably hurting her and he dropped his hand.

Feia looped her arms around her husband unselfconsciously. "Why do I risk myself for nothing? I could ask why you value your life so cheaply, Edhel nin! I had to hope! Metta nin namí firith o estel!" I cannot live without hope! Feia leaned back to look at his eyes. "Im unainië estel nin an te'lme cuio, a nás pant!" I do not regret my faith for we both live, and it is finished!

Legolas took both of her hands from behind his neck and brought them together before him. He kissed her fingers, and then held them to his heart. "Nás upant," it is not finished, he said regretfully and glanced once more toward the pavilion where his father rested.

"Which is exactly why I asked the question in the first place, begging your pardon," Gimli put in. "What's to be done about Thranduil? This mess cannot be resolved until we have an answer to that."

"Perhaps we shall have your answer soon, master dwarf, for King Thranduil is awake," Lord Elrond said as he materialized from the darkness to join their fire.

The high elf lord appeared content to leave his news at that indefinitely, and Legolas had been struck mute by the pronouncement, so Elessar asked, "My Lord, what other news have you? Will King Thranduil recover fully? Has command of his mind been restored to him?"

"It is somewhat early to say for certain what we may expect from him," Elrond replied. "His chief concern at the moment seems to be finding out how it came to be autumn when he thought it was spring. From what I can tell, he has no memory of anything that has happened since he first came to Dol Guldur a year and a half ago."

"No memory…" Legolas repeated softly, though he seemed unaware that he had spoken aloud.

"Perhaps that is best," Meg said, "at least for now. From a healing perspective, selective memory can be a valuable aid. Were the king's faculties restored to him, the memory of all that he has done could steal away his will to heal, or even to live."

"I am in agreement, my lady," Elrond said with a slight bow to Meg. "I have discussed it with Nenuiel and we have let it be known that Thranduil is not to be told anything until we discover whether his memory will return naturally."

Just then Galion arrived and addressed Legolas, "Your father has learned that you are in camp, Prince Legolas. He sends for you." The elf kept his face and his voice carefully neutral.

Legolas flowed from a seated position to standing in one motion. He stood still, his features smooth, but he had lost all color. "I…" he began, and then he swallowed, whispering, "I cannot!" He sounded as though he found that fact surprising, and his eyes went wide and vulnerable. With an unreadable glance at Feia, Legolas turned and walked away through the trees in the opposite direction of the pavilion where King Thranduil awaited him.

Chapter 34:

Audience

As badly as she wanted to go to him, Feia did not need Elessar's quelling look to keep her from following Legolas. It was clear that her husband preferred to work through his internal struggles privately.

Galion exhaled a deep sigh. He was anticipating his next conversation with Thranduil with an obvious lack of enthusiasm. Wordlessly the elf bowed and retraced his steps toward the king's pavilion.

"I fear the prince of Eryn Lasgalen is not yet free from danger," Lord Elrond declared.

"What do you mean, Lord Elrond?" Feia asked.

Haldir added, "You do not suspect that King Thranduil will seek to harm him now, my lord!"

"I did not suspect Thranduil would have sought to harm his son ever," the elven lord admitted, "and yet he did. But no, it is the harm that has already been done which concerns me. Legolas's wounds are deep and raw. His will is strong; but strength is not always a gift, when healing may require that he yield."

XXX

"When will you tell him?"

Feia looked up from where she scrubbed at her garments in the cold stream water. She did not need to ask her sister what she meant by the sudden question.

"Not yet, Meg," she declared, "I would not know myself were it not for Queen Nenuiel! I will give him some time to come to terms with all that has happened before I give him something else to worry about."

"Worry about?" Meg was incredulous, "Do you not think he will be pleased?"

Meg stood in the center of the stream Haldir had shown them. After supper and the revelations that followed, the ladies had desired an opportunity for a few minutes of privacy. Bathing provided them that opportunity and Haldir had provided the place for it. Meg rinsed soap from her skin with the chilly water, which was almost too cold even for her taste, and regarded her sister.

"I think he will be elated!" Feia's response had come after a slight pause, indicating that she was not quite as confident as her words indicated. "But even joyful news can be taxing. Legolas has had more than enough to cope with in these past weeks. He deserves an opportunity to take a breath or two before he finds out that he will be a father."

"I imagine that King Elessar will return to Minas Tirith very soon in anticipation of his own impending fatherhood," Meg said watching Feia carefully.

"I am sure that he will!" Feia agreed. "He left Gondor for friendship, but his heart and his duty must call him back again."

"What of your heart and your duty, sister? I will go where Haldir goes. Where will you go when your husband and your liege lord are no longer together?"

"I do not think the king will seek to place a heavy yoke of servitude upon me, Meggie! He has made little enough of an issue of my allegiance to him thus far!" Feia shook her head, "No, I will serve my king as he sees fit; that is his right! But I trust him. Elessar will not separate me from my husband."

Feia sighed then, adding; "Only Legolas can do that."

XXX

When Legolas ventured to return to the camp, his lady and her sister were not there. He was both relieved and disappointed by Feia's absence and he felt a wave of guilt for his conflicting emotions. His wife deserved much better, but he had nothing better to give to her. Solitude had brought him no peace. His thoughts were all in turmoil.

Glorfindel and Rúmil had joined the circle around the fire and the discussion was serious. All eyes turned toward him at his approach and Legolas froze.

"Ah, good" Lord Elrond said, "We could use the counsel of the prince of the Mirkwood elves."

"Is aught amiss, my lord?" Legolas asked in alarm.

"Nothing new, Legolas," Glorfindel said with a nod of greeting, "we go to meet with King Thranduil; as a courtesy, you understand. We plan what should be said; and what not."

"I have little to add to that discussion," Legolas said stiffening as though preparing to leave again.

"Legolas," Elessar said gently, "your refusal to see him earlier has confused Thranduil. He clamors for news of what transpires and to discover why we are all here assembled."

Legolas closed his eyes briefly, and then squatted to join the circle. "He truly remembers nothing?"

"I have spoken with him," Elrond responded. "He remembers nothing. Nenuiel is caring for him, but her manner with him is understandably distant. His puzzlement over her coolness is palpable. If nothing else, that should convince you."

Legolas only nodded minutely, then after a pause he asked, "And you still deem it best to allow his memories to return of their own accord?"

"Yes, I do."

Legolas tilted his head, "When my people return to Eryn Lasgalen, will their king return with them?"

"I have decided to offer your father the hospitality of Imladris for the foreseeable future, Legolas," Elrond said with grim seriousness.

"And if he refuses?"

Glorfindel said, "We have agreed that in that event we shall be forced to insist. Do you disagree?"

"No." Legolas shifted to look in the direction of his father's pavilion.

"We should tell him that we came in response to the yrch threat and no more."

"That is the proposal which Lord Elrond also makes," Rúmil said. The elf of the golden wood glanced at his brother, giving him a confirming nod and Haldir said, "With Legolas's ratification of the plan, Lórien sees no reason to dispute it."

"Nor do I," Glorfindel agreed. "King Elessar? Lord Gimli?"

"We are here out of friendship," Elessar said. "I think Gimli will agree that we consider this matter a strictly elvish one."

"Aye," Gimli readily allowed.

"Still, you should both accompany us for this audience," Elladan said.

Elrohir nodded, "King Thranduil knows that you are here and he will think it odd if you do not."

With that, Lord Elrond rose and bade them all join him with a gracefully beckoning hand; then he turned toward the pavilion of the king of Eryn Lasgalen. Elessar and Gimli waited to bring up the rear and so it was that they flanked Legolas, whose expression was utterly blank.

XXX

Within the pavilion, Thranduil rested on a raised pallet, propped on pillows and covered in a fur robe. Iron firedogs provided heat and light. Nenuiel stood to the right of her lord's bed while Galion stood at the king's left side. By unspoken agreement, when the leaders of the elven army entered, Elrond, Glorfindel and Haldir approached Thranduil while Legolas waited with the rest beside the entrance.

Legolas looked up once and met his mother's anxious gaze, but then he crossed his arms and concentrated on the design of the carpet that covered the ground. He felt drained, though the interview had yet to begin.

"What is the meaning of this, Elrond?" Thranduil demanded, "I am given no information to fill in the many months which I have lost. My questions remain unanswered! My summonses are ignored!" With that he glared at Legolas who looked up and met his father's eyes with an unblinking stare. Discomfited, the king looked away, but then he continued smoothly, "And now you all descend upon me at once! Is this an audience or a tribunal?"

Legolas shivered inwardly. His father was perceptive. He may remember nothing, but he did not miss the mood in the camp or the reactions to him, however subtle. He may remember nothing, but he could guess that his actions during his lost days must be suspect.

"We are the leaders of the war party which has come to Southern Mirkwood, Thranduil," Lord Elrond responded. "We are here as a courtesy to you. You did ask to see us."

"Yes!" the elven king spluttered, "Hours ago I asked; your courtesy is lacking. Now tell me what has been happening here. This is still my realm, is it not?"

Glorfindel answered with a slight smile and a bow, "King Thranduil," he said, "Have you been expanding your demesne? I was unaware that you had claimed Southern Mirkwood as a part of your kingdom."

Thranduil frowned, "All Mirkwood has traditionally been my responsibility. Why is it now necessary for Lórien and Imladris to become involved in what happens here? And I see the King of Gondor and a Dwarf as well. Has this become a matter for the other races? Is there a force of men and dwarves in my wood?"

"Your majesty, this is Gimli son of Gloin of the Misty Mountains," Elessar said, bowing from his place by the door. "We two and one other are the only ones not elves in this force. I assure you, we are here out of friendship, and in no other capacity."

"Friendship…" the elven king said deliberately. "Will my son now do nothing without the protection of his precious Fellowship?"

Legolas stared at his father in silence. His face remained smooth but his eyes flashed. Thranduil chuckled as though he had made a joke that they all shared. Then without taking his eyes from Legolas's face he said, "And who is this 'one other'? Is it the woman? Is it the human to whom my son has bound himself?" Legolas's eyes widened perceptibly and Thranduil laughed again. "I have heard the elves speaking outside my door. They all talk of this supposedly immortal woman whom the prince has taken to wife. They tell of her beauty and her bravery. I should like to meet this paragon of a daughter-in-law, Legolas. Go! Fetch for me your lady."

Legolas was flushed and shaking with suppressed anger. "I will not allow you anywhere near my lady!" he grated, turning to leave the pavilion.

"So, is it the lady which stands between us, my son?" Thranduil asked in a surprisingly gentle voice. Legolas froze with his back to the king, "Will you now say what our contention is? For I tell you, Legolas, I recall no argument with you."

His father had been goading him, Legolas realized. He was fishing for the reason behind their estrangement. There was hurt in Thranduil's voice that was far more painful to bear than the anger had been.

Legolas crossed his arms more tightly over his chest and closed his eyes, shuddering. Choking bile rose in his throat, but he swallowed hard and said, "Im uva úpedo." I will not say. Then he strode from the pavilion.

Chapter 35:

Seeking Lost Days

Elessar, Gimli and Haldir relayed the results of the audience with Thranduil to Feia and Meg. The disposition of the king of the woodland elves had not been easy. Legolas's desertion baffled him, and he sensed there were grave events being left unreported in his presence. When Lord Elrond had suggested that the elven king might recover from his ordeal better at Imladris, Thranduil had not been fooled into believing he was being offered a choice in the matter.

Fortunately, the elven king had chosen not to dispute his exile for the time being.

Despite orders from Meghailin that he should sleep again, Legolas did not return to the camp that night. He appeared at first light, when Suluin and twenty other Mirkwood elves were preparing to start upon their scouting mission to Eryn Lasgalen.

Seeking his wife, Legolas found her where she was seated alone, re-braiding her hair. Feia stood silently at his approach and he reached out and framed her face with his hands, "Orenya, I will go with Suluin and prepare the way for my people to return to Eryn Lasgalen. Lord Elrond and the elves of Rivendell will begin their journey home this morning. Will you go with them? I will be no more than ten days behind you."

"I will, Legolas," Feia agreed. She studied his face, but his thoughts were shielded from her. "Meg tells me that you still require more rest than usual, Edhel nin. Please do not overextend yourself!"

In silent acquiescence, Legolas bent and touched her mouth with his. He had meant the gesture to be brief, but the contact pierced a hole in his defenses and he found that he needed something more. Wrapping his wife tightly in his embrace he drew the sweetness from her with a deep and tender kiss.

When he drew away, Legolas took Feia's hands. He pressed his lips to her hair and then to her fingers, before guiding her across the clearing to where the King of Gondor was mending a hole in his tunic.

Without preamble, Legolas asked, "Will you see that my lady arrives at Imladris safely before you return to Minas Tirith, Elessar?"

With a quirked brow, Elessar stood and responded, "I wonder what I may do to protect her that well over two hundred elves cannot, but yes; I will travel with your lady to Rivendell, Legolas. I will remain there until your arrival."

"And will you release her from her duty to you for a time? It may be many months before I can return to Gondor."

Elessar smiled, "I believe the oath of a lady to her husband supercedes her oath to a king, my friend – at least most of the time."

"If you two are quite finished passing me off into one another's care?" Feia's arms were crossed under her breasts and her eyes were slits.

"Hoo boy, Laddies," Gimli chuckled as he approached with Meg and Haldir. "I suggest you each find somewhere else to be for the next little while."

"I am going to Eryn Lasgalen, Gimli," Legolas said with a wicked grin. "I shall be out of the lady's reach for several days."

A genuine smile, even that devilish one, on her husband's face was Feia's undoing. It had been missing for so long! Melting helplessly, Feia felt tears threatening again. To cover her reaction she reached out and seized the shoulder strap of Legolas's quiver and hauled him down so that she could cover that wonderful smile with a quick, firm kiss. Then, grinning mischievously, she raised herself up on her toes and kissed King Elessar's beard-roughened face, bent and pressed her lips to Gimli's brow, and stretched again to do the same to Haldir's smooth cheek.

Finally, with a wink for Meg and a saucy smile for her husband she ordered, "Come safely to Rivendell, Edhel nin!" and she sauntered away.

"What in thunder was that about?" Gimli asked in consternation. His cheeks were deeply stained with red. Elessar merely raised his eyebrows eloquently.

Meg smiled, "I think it was about my sister finding you all irresistible. That in no way means she will not resist you if the occasion merits it, however, so do not let it go to your heads." She turned her attention fully upon Legolas, "You are not getting the rest you need, my lord," she accused.

Legolas had been staring after Feia with a somewhat startled expression, but he answered the healer with a bow, "On my wife's orders, I shall not overextend myself, my lady."

"See that you do not!" Meg insisted. "You make a very poor patient and I would dearly like to see an end to the need for it!"

Legolas bowed again, and so he did not see the faces of his friends change from amusement to unease until he raised his eyes. His grin faltered in confusion and then from behind him, his father said, "And why does my son require a healer? Are you unwell, Legolas?"

"I am well," Legolas responded in a flat voice, "and I was just about to take my leave, my lord." With that he bent in a general bow to the group and made to withdraw.

"How long will I be forced to address your retreating back, Sén nin?"

Legolas stopped and half turned, "I do not know."

"You are going with Suluin?"

"Yes."

"Do you go to Eryn Lasgalen in order to try out the feel of my throne, Legolas?" Thranduil asked.

"I go to Eryn Lasgalen to see the way clear for my people!"

"You say my people, not our people," Thranduil murmured and Legolas stiffened. "I am an exiled king. I have a reluctant wife and an estranged son. And now, it seems that I have no people. Do you not think that I have a right to know why?"

"The decision not to tell you was made by those wiser in these matters than I, Ada."

"Well, I am Ada again, that is something," Thranduil said. "Will you stay and look after your people, Legolas? They do not require very much leadership, but this is a trying time and your presence would be a comfort to them."

"I am not needed," Legolas said, shaking his head. "Nane or Galion can do what must be done."

"But…"

"I cannot stay in Eryn Lasgalen!" Legolas's voice was unsteady despite his best effort.

"Why?!" Thranduil took a step toward his son and placed a hand on his shoulder causing Legolas to jerk away involuntarily. The elven king dropped his hand, "Do you not understand? I must know why, Legolas. If you will not tell me, then show me. Let me share your memories so that I may know how I have wounded you!"

Legolas spun to face his father at last and Thranduil gasped, taking a step back. His son was pale and trembling, with hunted eyes. "No!" Legolas said, and his voice now sounded tormented. "I will not! Do not ask it again!" and then he strode away to where Suluin and the other scouts awaited him. In moments the scouts and their prince had moved into the trees and were gone.

Thranduil turned to his son's companions and saw that they were all taking pains to keep their expressions neutral. Frowning, the elven king turned, his heavy robes flaring, and returned to the pavilion where preparations were underway to begin the journey to Imladris.

XXX

Just as the elves of Rivendell and Lórien had come without question to the aid of their woodland cousins, they also cleared out of Mirkwood rapidly when that aid was no longer needed. Feia was learning that elves on Middle Earth were odd about accepting assistance. Apparently the woodland elves were more comfortable reclaiming their home without the help of their kin.

The return to Rivendell was far more tranquil than the journey to Dol Guldur had been. The elves still moved a fair distance that first day, but they somehow achieved it while seemingly in no particular rush. The evening's camp was made at dusk, which was coming noticeably earlier now, as autumn began to hold the scent of approaching winter. The fading light had a crystalline edge to it and a depth of hue that spoke of countless layers of cold and cooling air separating the earth from the stars.

A disturbing sensation of being watched caused Feia to shiver almost as much as the cold did. She was caring for Yáviëlosse while Haldir rubbed down Linnêl and Hithui. Meg and Gimli were preparing an evening meal while Elessar and Rúmil gathered wood for their fire. Elladan and Elrohir had set out to scout the vicinity the moment the campsite had been selected.

The elves were not really an army, though they could certainly behave as one at need. The camp looked more like a very large group of companions traveling together. The Lórien elves were with them for the time being, and there was much visiting and sharing taking place between elves who had not seen one another for a very long time; in some cases as long as centuries. Now that the woodland elves were safe with no further casualties, the company had taken on an almost festive air with one notable exception.

Thranduil shared a fire with Elrond and Glorfindel, and it was not merry. Most of the elves studiously ignored Thranduil unless he addressed them directly. Whether they were being respectful of the recovering king, or they were as uncomfortable with his presence as Feia was, it was difficult to say. It was Thranduil who was watching her, just as he had been all day. Elessar had not failed to mention that Thranduil was aware of her relationship with Legolas. The elven king must be very curious about her, and yet Feia could not bring herself to meet that searching gaze.

She did not fear Legolas's father, exactly. Lord Elrond and Lord Glorfindel would never permit Thranduil to harm anyone even if he should choose to try. Feia had no doubt that the elven patriarch and the high elf lord were capable of subduing the woodland king if need be. In all likelihood they were fully prepared to do so while being scrupulously polite – even friendly toward Thranduil.

No, it was not fear that made Feia feel so very vulnerable as Legolas's father studied her. Those who should know were convinced that Thranduil did not remember the terrible things he had done. Meg had told her how hurt and confused the elven king had sounded when he confronted Legolas that morning and Feia found herself feeling compassion for her father-in-law. And yet there was no doubt he was responsible for the deaths of thirteen elves and for torturing his son in ways far beyond cruelty. Legolas's own father had laid him so low – had stripped away everything until there was little left but pain and grief; so that Feia feared her husband might never fully recover.

Feia was not sure that she could speak to the elven king or even look at him without feeling compelled to ask him how he could possibly have forgotten.

And so Thranduil stared, and she ignored him. After caring for her mount, Feia dropped her blanket roll beside the fire so that she could sit with her back to the king of the woodland elves. When she folded herself down onto it, however, she was acutely aware of his presence behind her.

After eating, Feia, with Elladan, carried the dishes to the spring beside which the camp had been set out. It felt good to be out from under that constant scrutiny for a while. When they returned to the fire it was to find that Elessar and Gimli had produced their pipes and were contentedly taking it in turn to impress one another with the size and quantity of their smoke rings.

As inevitable as the king and the dwarf with their pipes, was Elrohir's request for music. At the other fires, pipes meant for an entirely different use than smoking, as well as lutes, small drums and any number of other musical instruments, were appearing from elven packs. Meghailin obligingly tuned the gitar that Haldir had fetched for her from her gear and suggested a song that was a particular favorite of Feia's. Soon Feia was lost in the music and completely at ease as she and Meg sang harmonies that they had sung together many times before.

It was a wonderful evening of music and good spirits. When a song at one fire faded, musicians at another fire would step in so that the night was filled with a continuous stream of melody.

Later, thirteen elves would be mourned; but tonight the Mirkwood elves were free, the evil lingering at Dol Guldur had been removed, the spell to destroy Legolas's soul had been thwarted, and there had been no further deaths. But Feia observed the elves around her and noticed that quite frequently their expressions became abstracted, like the dreamy expression Haldir had been wearing since yesterday. The impossible had occurred – a fanar of the Lady Galadriel had walked amongst them, having crossed what was considered to be an impenetrable veil. For the elves, that was more than enough cause for wonder and for celebration.

Feia's reason for celebrating was absent, yet she was free from fear for her Concinnate for the first time since they had met. Strictly speaking, what Legolas was doing could not be considered safe; but the elf, well at last and in full possession of all his considerable skills, was as secure scouting for orc as Feia was protected sitting here in a camp full of his heavily armed brethren. Without the awful weight of anxiety for her husband, Feia was feeling buoyant. She had forgotten Lord Elrond's warning.

"My lady," Rúmil interrupted Feia's pleasant thoughts of Legolas, "when first I saw you, I thought you were among the loveliest of women; but now that I have had the opportunity to see the radiance of that smile I must amend my initial opinion. If there is any woman, anywhere who is lovelier, I have yet to see her."

"You are charming me again, Lord Rúmil," Feia responded, dimpling at the elf who sat at his ease to her left. "I have seen enough elven ladies to know that the most beautiful woman beside them is a dandelion in a garden of lilies and wild sweet orchids."

"Ah! But Lady Feia!" the elf insisted. "One of the most appealing flowers in Middle Earth is the elenor which grows in Lothlorien beneath the Mallorn trees. It is not so very different from the dandelion. Even so, I would not compare you with a dandelion, but with an autumn rose. Such a one does not hide in the company of lilies and orchids; but by its rich and vibrant beauty doth draw the eye to itself."

Feia laughed merrily, "My lord, you must stop practicing your flirtations at once! When you set your sights upon the lady you have been practicing for, she will not credit your sincerity if you are too skilled!"

Rúmil smiled and bowed where he sat, "I thank you for your instruction, my lady. I shall endeavor to be less skilled when the object of my flirtation might return my regard, for well do I know that the smile I so admire upon your fair face was set there by another." The Lórien elf's expression became more serious, "It is a great relief to us all, my lady, that your husband is well."

"By the grace of The Lady, the horror of these past days is over, my lord. Legolas is alive, and it is over!" Feia's voice shook with the threat of more tears. She smiled self-deprecatingly and squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to contain them, but she could not. "I do not know how it can be possible that I have a single tear left!" she complained.

"Why should my son's wife spend all of her tears?" Thranduil said from behind her. Feia turned in startlement and looked up mutely at the king of Eryn Lasgalen.

"I thought you intended to compliment the lady on her singing, Thranduil," Glorfindel cautioned at the elven king's side.

"I intended to meet my daughter-in-law, Glorfindel," Thranduil responded with a hard look at the high elf lord.

Feia gathered herself to stand with Rúmil on one side and Gimli on the other; her other friends were attentive, most particularly Elessar, who was also standing and had positioned himself behind his liege lady where the elven king could not fail to see him. The Mask of the First made Feia's expression unreadable.

Returning his attention to his son's lady, Thranduil smiled slightly in acknowledgement of her protectors before he continued, "I find myself wondering why Rúmil of Lórien should be relieved that Legolas is well, and why my son's lady looks upon these past days with horror. That Legolas lives renders her unable to keep from weeping; why should this be? These things I wonder."

Feia bent in a slight bow to Thranduil, "King Thranduil, for my part I am also wondering many things. Chiefly, I wonder how it can be possible that you recall neither a reason for horror, nor a cause for tears. I am flattered that you enjoyed the singing, but if there is aught else you wish to say to me, I would prefer that you say it in the presence of my husband after his return." Feia bowed again, "We have now met. I wish you a pleasant evening, my lord," she said, and waited.

Thranduil's cheeks flushed with anger at being so addressed and then quite obviously dismissed. But then, very slowly, he smiled. And then he laughed. It was, in all likelihood, the first genuine expression of mirth he had made since awakening to discover he had lost a year and a half of time and all else he valued with it.

"Your message is clear, my lady," Thranduil said with a bow, still smiling. "You are angry with me, and you will not help me reconcile with my son. And yet you make it plain that you also will not stand in the way of such a reconciliation, but will take your cues from Legolas. A dutiful thing to do, though I feel sure that I shall find little enough occasion to use that term whilst describing you.

Yes, now we have met, my lady and I look forward to crossing swords with you again. Goodnight," and with another bow, Thranduil withdrew. Glorfindel turned to follow, but paused to peer over his shoulder at Feia with his eyebrows lifted expressively. Then with a brief inclination of his head, he silently shadowed the woodland king.

Only when her father-in-law and the high elven lord were gone did Feia turn around and sit again facing the fire. She closed her eyes and blew out a long breath, folding her hands to still their trembling.

"Well!" Gimli chortled. "That should give his royal elvishness something to gnaw on for awhile." Then with a frown, he added, "Unfortunately I think he is more fascinated by you than ever, my lady. If you thought to put an end to his scrutiny of you, I suspect you should think again."

"I can tolerate his staring, Lord Gimli, so long as he respects my wishes and keeps clear of me," Feia responded. "He is right; I am angry. And I fear if put to the test, I would acquaint the king of the Mirkwood elves with everything he has done in these past weeks despite the good advice of Meghailin and Lord Elrond. How can he not remember?"

"Instead ask: if he remembered, could he possibly survive it?" Elessar corrected. Feia's eyes grew thoughtful and she nodded to acknowledge the point, but she said nothing.

Chapter 36:

Beginnings

The company moved south and west toward the Gap of Rohan, for it was far too late in the season to risk the high passes without need. They skirted close to Lórien and made an early camp.

Feia drank in the sound of elven merriment through that long, cool night. She also enjoyed the opportunity to observe her sister. Meg was more comfortable here than Feia had ever seen her.

The elves of Alderaan had been almost completely integrated into the predominately human culture to the point that, over time, elven lifespans had actually shortened to more closely match their human neighbors. Before gaining immortality, Alderaani humans could expect to live for three or four hundred years. Elves might live for twice that, perhaps a bit longer. Undeniably, the Alderaani elves had retained their language and music. They produced more gifted healers and they tended to gravitate toward the arts and intellectual pursuits, or toward activities that particularly require grace and physical precision. Foresight was almost exclusively an elven gift. But even so, the differences between the races were much less discernible on Alderaan. Feia could not remember a time when she had been in the presence of such a large group of elves while herself representing a human minority.

Meghailin was half-elven, but she and Derek had always more strongly favored their elven father, in both attribute and appearance, than they had reflected their human mother's traits. And so this total immersion in elvishness was a treat for Feia's sister. Meg wore the expression of a person who had just sunk up to the chin in steaming bathwater after a long and trying day, and had only now realized how stiff and sore she had become.

Occasionally, Meg would beam at her sister, expressing her pleasure with a happy sigh and Feia would smile back at her in silent understanding.

After a long night during which no one felt the need for rest or sleep, Rúmil and the elves of Lothlorien bid their companions farewell.

Haldir's brother took respectful leave of Lord Elrond and Lord Glorfindel. He bowed in turn to King Elessar and Lord Gimli, and to the twin son's of Elrond. Over the ladies hands, Rúmil bent and charmed them each once more in parting.

"My sister," the elf said to Meg, "I wait in anticipation of the day I may welcome you home to Lothlorien. Your presence shall make the golden wood once again worthy of its name."

Then turning his attention to Serafé, the gracious elf sighed, "I wonder? Shall I ever again have eyes to appreciate the lily and the orchid, now that I have beheld a rose?"

Haldir clasped his brother's shoulder and the two communicated silently for several moments. It was not yet the time to bring his bride home to Lórien. Haldir sensed he would be away from Caras Galadhon for some time to come.

XXX

Legolas bent and retrieved the shard of what had once been a statue of Nimrodel dancing. The sculpture was old, and had stood in the courtyard outside his rooms since before he was born. During the desecration of Eryn Lasgalen, nothing of grace had escaped ruin, but the beatific face of the elven maid had sheared off nearly in one piece. Running his fingers over the cool marble, Legolas felt an overwhelming desire to close those staring eyes against the sight of what had become of his home.

None of the scouts who had come along on this mission had truly believed that their abandoned city might have escaped the yrch's need for violence and destruction. Even so, they had been unprepared for the total devastation that they had found.

Fires had been set randomly throughout the home of the woodland elves. There was not a scroll or a book, a painting or a tapestry that was not torn, soiled, or burned. Sculptures of stone, like that of Nimrodel the Fair were shattered. Sculptures of wood and graceful elven furniture had been broken and tossed onto the bonfires leaving only charred remnants to speak of their fate. Yrch filth covered everything and foul writing was scrawled over once pristine walls. Gardens had been torn up and set to the torch. Even the stones set in the cobbled courtyards had been cracked and smashed.

Grief. It filled Legolas and choked him. It tore at his raw emotions and left him feeling beaten and exhausted. He had failed to heed the advice of Lady Meghailin, for he could not rest. He could not be still. He feared what the stillness would bring. He feared this…the wreckage of Eryn Lasgalen that mirrored the desolation of his heart.

It would be so easy to lie here and sleep – to sleep forever never to wake. It would be such welcome relief to close his eyes. They were cool and dry – as detached as the marble eyes of Nimrodel. The grief called to him; lulled him. The stillness seduced him.

Ten days. He had made a promise. He had promised his lady he would be no more than ten days behind her. Legolas gasped in a breath of air and it was as though he were starving for it. He was cold, he realized; chilled through. Opening his eyes he found himself on his knees, collapsed over a broken stone bench. The sun's placement showed that more than an hour had passed with him unaware.

Legolas pulled his cloak around him, shuddering. Life and death had played a child's tugging game with him as the prize, and it had been a very close contest. Legolas wanted to be pleased that he yet lived, but there was only numbness.

As he pushed himself to his feet, Legolas saw the face of Nimrodel staring up at him from the ground. He must have dropped it, for the marble likeness of the lovely elf had broken in two.

XXX

Suluin would not wait to begin clearing the debris from Eryn Lasgalen. He put the scouts to work at once, entrusting Legolas with the task of reporting their findings to the queen and their people.

"Edhelothlva hiruva e lenna yesta gwain, ernil nin," Suluin said. Our people will find a way to begin again, my prince. And then the elven scout had grinned and added, "Utúvienyes sí a sí!" I have found a way here and now!

With that, Suluin stooped and gathered up a shredded and filthy tapestry, hauling it away. Legolas left the scouting party as they undertook the first stage of the reclamation of Eryn Lasgalen. Suluin had found his way to begin again, but Legolas would have to find another.

When he reached Dol Calenlor, Legolas prepared his mother and Galion as well as he could for what awaited them upon their return home. He knew there was no way he could soften the effect that the first sight of the desecration of Eryn Lasgalen would have on his people, but he did his best.

After a hurried meal, the woodland prince made brief farewells and mounted Arod. Nenuiel kept her concern for her son silent as she watched him ride away toward Imladris for the second time in just a few weeks. He was in far better condition than the last time he had set out thus, and yet her confidence that she would see him again was less.

XXX

When the company of elves returned to Rivendell, a most surprising welcoming committee greeted them. Elladan and Elrohir had ridden hard that last day to bring tidings of victory to their father's house, and they had found esteemed visitors awaiting them.

With their diminutive guests before them on their horses, the twin sons of Elrond rode to the crossing of the Bruinin. There the company found them soon after.

At sight of them, Gimli gave a happy cry from his perch at Haldir's back and said, "You rascals! I see you have managed to wait in comfort while the rest of us did all of the work, as usual!"

"That is hardly fair, Master Dwarf!" Meriodoc Brandybuck complained with a wink at his companion. "And after we have come all this way bearing gifts."

With that the two hobbits bowed in their seats and spoke a fair greeting to Lord Elrond and the others, then the company set out to cover the remaining distance to The Last Homely House.

"Did you say gifts?" Gimli said as they rode, a gleam of speculation in his eyes.

"Of course, if you don't want your share, we can get a good price for it in Minas Tirith," Peregrin Took said, grinning wide enough to split his face. "Enough to keep a couple of hobbits in comfort through the winter, I should think."

"At least that much," Merry agreed. "Peony Burrows is forever smoking away her own profits. She never manages to keep up with the demand at The Tree."

"That will be enough of that, my lads," Gimli laughed. "If you have pipeweed and you insist upon selling it, you'll be selling it to me!"

"Let us return to Master Elrond's splendid house and break open a cask," Pippin said grandly. "Then we can discuss it."

"May the king join you?" Elessar asked with a grin, "or is this to be a private party?"

"What nonsense!" Merry stated, "It's a well known fact that kings don't smoke. Far too common a pastime, you know. Now, rangers are another matter. I knew a ranger once who could almost out-smoke old Gandalf. Went by the name of Strider, he did."

"Is that so?" Elessar said, "Funny people, rangers; you really never know where one of them might turn up."

"We'll keep our eyes open," Pippin said, nodding sagely. Then he said, "Is anyone planning on telling us where Legolas is? The elves here said he was leading this little excursion."

"Prince Legolas is taking care of a family matter, Master Peregrin," Elrond responded. "He will be along in a few days…if all goes well."

Feia had been smiling to herself inside her hood, greatly enjoying her first experience of hobbits, but Lord Elrond's tone recalled to her his warning. I fear the prince of Eryn Lasgalen is not yet free from danger. Feia's smile slid from her face and she shivered.

Then Thranduil, who had been withdrawn and sullen since his conversation with his son's lady, said, "If Prince Legolas would attend to family matters, then he should be here attending his father."

"And what would you have him do for you, Thranduil?" Glorfindel asked. "He cannot speed your recovery, nor restore to you your memories."

"No, he cannot restore my memory," Thranduil agreed. "But he could share with me his, and that would be a beginning. My son could do that for me, but he refuses."

Pippin had gone quiet at this exchange with King Thranduil of Mirkwood, for this striking elf could be no other and claim Legolas as his son. The hobbit could sense that serious matters indeed were alluded to in what was being said and not said. He looked to his friends and saw that Elessar had gone grim while Gimli scowled darkly, and even Haldir's smooth elven features were creased with concern.

It was the better part of wisdom to say nothing, Pippin thought to himself, but somehow he found that words were being said and he was the one who was saying them, "If Legolas refuses to do something he must surely have a very good reason." Pippin's eyes widened perceptibly as he realized whom he was addressing while claiming knowledge of what his elven friend would and would not do.

Thranduil glared at the hobbit and his eyes were like blue chips of ice. Pippin was truly afraid under the scrutiny of this elven king. He could sense the power and will behind those eyes and he knew that there was cause to fear if this being decided that he was an enemy.

It was hard to imagine that this could be Legolas's sire; Legolas with his soft smile and gentle ways. But then again, when Legolas fought during The War of the Ring, or when he spoke of the Enemy, there had been nothing soft or gentle about him and Pippin had seen in his eyes that same power and will. Perhaps Legolas was his father's son after all.

At last the woodland king subsided, lost in his own thoughts, and Pippin was free from his scrutiny. The hobbit breathed a sigh and glanced again at his friends. Elessar was smiling at him and shaking his head, Gimli's eyes were wide, but Merry rolled his eyes heavenward and slapped a hand to his forehead. Pippin could only shrug ruefully and silently vow to stay out of King Thranduil's way in the future.

XXX

The companions gathered in the garden where the Gate to Gwynedd stood like a mirror reflecting only light. Lord Elrond had seen to it that a columnar stand was placed near the Gate upon which was set the Gate Cube. Merry was beside the stand, which came up to his nose, and he peered curiously at the tiny device while Feia explained its use.

Elessar had introduced the ladies when, after refreshing themselves, they had joined the gathered members of the Fellowship and Haldir in the garden. They had found the group beneath a cloud of smoke that Haldir was tolerating with good humor. Elves simply were not susceptible to the lure of pipeweed.

The hobbits were overjoyed at the news that their friend Haldir had wed, but Elessar introduced Feia only by name and as his liege lady. Later he had suggested privately that her other status might better be disclosed to their friends by Legolas when he joined them. Feia could not argue with that, for she suspected that Legolas would prefer to be present when this news was shared with the hobbits.

"And so the Gate remains open only so long as the Cube is on this side of it, my lady?" Merry asked.

"That is correct, Master Merry," Feia confirmed. "Or I can use an incantation on the Cube to close the Gate. Either way, it cannot be opened again."

"I think I should like to visit other worlds," Pippin announced. "Are they very much different from this one?"

Meghailin responded, "Some of them are different in the extreme, Master Pippin. Some of them are very similar. But on every world I have seen, the similarities far outweigh the differences. On every world people strive to find happiness. They work, they suffer, they mourn, they laugh, they create music and art, and they love. Everywhere there is friendship to be found. And everywhere some are led astray from the way of love and they hurt one another. These things are the same.

But I can honestly say that I have never found hobbits on any world before. If you are not unique, you are certainly a rare people."

Pippin grinned broadly at this news, but Merry's face was screwed up in a thoughtful expression, "What about your language? How is it that you and Lady Feia speak Westron?"

"Ah! An interesting question, Master Merry!" Feia exclaimed. "From what we can discover, all of the worlds where there are humans and elves were originally populated from a single world. It happened so long ago in antiquity that even elves have no memory of when or how this took place, or why for that matter. And you can be sure that wherever there are humans, who always tend to be the more numerous of those two races, there are also elves.

On some worlds the races have absolutely nothing to do with one another; there are even worlds where the elves exist only in hiding, so little do they desire to mingle with their human neighbors. Men on those worlds consider elves nothing but a legend lost in the distant past. On some worlds the races even make war upon one another; whilst on others they coexist so closely that they are very nearly, although never quite, a single race. That is how it was on Alderaan, our home world.

The language you know as Westron is the common tongue of humans, and it is believed that it is a variant of the original language spoken on that first world. The same is true of Elvish."

"You say you have run across no hobbits on your travels," Gimli said, "What of dwarves?"

"Dwarves are numerous in the universe, Lord Gimli," Meg responded, "but there is not that link that appears to exist between men and elves. Often Dwarves represent the third race on a world with humans and elves, but there are also worlds entirely populated by dwarves alone, or by dwarves and some of the rarer races. There are some very interesting beings populating the many worlds. The dwarven tongue has similarities from world to world as well. It may be that dwarves also originated on a single planet."

"And I thought there was a great deal to learn on Middle Earth!" Merry complained. "How am I to begin learning everything in a vast universe of worlds?"

"You shall have time, Master Merry, for hobbits and the other mortal races of Middle Earth have recently joined the ranks of the immortal," Feia said with a smile.

"We what?" Pippin said, incredulous. "How did we do that?"

"You did not have to do anything," Meg answered. "Or at least, nothing you have not already done. It was simply time. Perhaps as a valiant member of the Fellowship, you can take a bit of the credit for allowing your world to continue into the fourth age. You can consider immortality your gift for a job well done, if you wish."

"It is as good an explanation as any," Feia said with a shrug and a nod.

"So you are admitting that you do not have an explanation for everything," Elessar said half seriously.

"We never claimed to, sire!" Feia laughed. "And If the Powers That Be offered me all of the answers to every question, I think I would beg off – thank you very much. It seems that the more information you are given, the more responsibility you are given to go along with it."

"That is the way with all knowledge," Haldir confirmed. "Be wary of it Master Meriodoc!"

"There is some knowledge I would happily gain," Feia said. "I would dearly love to visit The Shire and learn what I may of its singular people! And I should like to meet Samwise the Stouthearted!"

Merry bowed where he stood and said, "You may consider yourself invited, my lady. We would gladly show you our home and introduce you to our friend. He does not get out of the Shire very often now that he is mayor of Hobbiton, and his heart isn't the only thing that is stout these days."

Elessar grinned around the stem of his pipe, "Sam is not the only one going soft, Merry. It has been some time since you and Pippin have come to Rohan and Gondor to fulfill your oaths. You may find your duties more strenuous than you remember them."

"Our duty is one of the reasons we have come here, Elessar," Pippin responded. "We merely stopped in Rivendell to pay our respects to Lord Elrond."

"And to pick up a few elvish provisions, you know," Merry interrupted.

"Naturally," Elessar put in.

"Anyway," Pippin continued, "We were heading for Gondor to spend the winter. Then we thought we might move on to Meduseld in late spring after the Entwash recedes, and stay in Rohan through the summer. But when we got here, the elves told us something was afoot in the Mirkwood and that you had all gone off to deal with it. We decided to wait so that we could get news and then travel with you when you return to Minas Tirith."

"An excellent plan," Elessar said, "however I might suggest another. I think that after you have had your fill of the hospitality of elves, you should return to The Shire and save your visit to Gondor until next autumn, otherwise you shall be leaving just at the time when my child will be born."

"Your child!" Merry went to Elessar and pumped the king's hand with his two in an enthusiastic grip. Pippin congratulated his friend with an equally enthusiastic handclasp. After that the two hobbits linked arms and spun around in an impromptu dance, singing a hobbitish song called "Happy Beginnings," while the others laughed and clapped in delight.

Pale green barley shoots in rich dark soil

Spring cleaning dust from the smial

Tight pink buds on the cherry tree

Singing bird and busy buzzing bee

Blushing maid in her wedding gown

Tiny babe with hair of down

New-breached cask of the best stout ale

Happy beginnings to a happy tale!