Revelations by Númenora

Rating: M, PG this chapter

Disclaimers and summary: See Chapter One

Warnings: Slash (M/M). This story is slightly AU overall and very AU this chapter—so there will be many, many liberties taken.

A/N: According to Tolkien, Aragorn was about 87 years old when he became King; for my purposes here, he will be about 55. The reason for this is because, while I can believe that the Man could wait 67 years to marry Arwen, I don't believe (and this could just be me) that he would wait so long to claim Legolas. There is a reason why he waited even this long, which will be revealed in part two. Also, according to tradition, Yule was celebrated as the winter solstice by the Germanic pagans on December 21 in the northern hemisphere and June 21 in the southern hemisphere.¹ For this fiction (and my other fic, 'Prince'), Yule will coincide with Christmas (December 25).

This is in two parts because there is so much that I want to cover, it will take a two-part Epilogue instead of one. Sorry for the delay and for those who are reading my other WIP, I will be getting to Another's Guilt soon.

The title for the Epilogue is named for the title of my favorite Etta James song 'At Last.'

Disclaimers and warnings: See chapter one.

Thoughts and stressed words are in italics

Past conversations denoted by ' '

Un-betaed, all mistakes are mine.

Part 1: Epilogue "At Last"

October 25, Year 1, FA

King Elessar Telcontar, the newly crowned ruler of the reunited kingdoms of Gondor and Arnor was frightened. Never in his entire life has he experienced fear of this magnitude. There had been numerous times when he had had to face his fears such as when he joined Elladan and Elrohir for his first Orc hunt and the first time he joined the Dúnedain Rangers. But for Aragorn, those times were more exciting than frightening.

There were other times where he really did feel fear and these came within the last fifteen to twenty years and were tied to Sauron's Evil. For instance, when he spent nearly two years alone in the wilds looking for Gollum and he finally caught the creature in the Dead Marshes in sight of Mordor. Seeing there the fallen elves and men of the First Alliance filled him with such fear and dread (and sadness) and being so close to Mordor made him realize the scope of what he had to accomplish and what was at stake if he failed. Then later, there was the time when he had to face the Nazgûl on Weathertop, Frodo's life hanging in the balance; and again in Moria when they lost Gandalf; and the breaking of the Fellowship when Boromir died in his arms; fighting against 10,000 Uruk-hai at Helm's Deep while severely out-numbered; facing the Army of Dead Men of Dunharrow and finally, confronting Sauron in the Palantir and again at the Black Gates. All of these tested Aragorn to the depth of his soul and he could have buckled under the strain at any time but for one strength, one constant—Legolas.

Legolas was always there—whether in spirit or in the flesh—with him. The beautiful and loving elf kept Aragorn centered and he knew that no matter what came to pass or what troubles presented themselves, he would be fine as long as he had his Perfect Prince.

But now, when everything should have been ideal with the fall of Sauron and the end to his Evil hold over Middle-earth, Estel (for Legolas still called him this when they were alone) felt only despair and fear, for his Beloved was gone and for the first time since they declared their love for each other, the man was not sure if he would return to him. Legolas was his strength and he was now far away.

"Please come back to me, My Love—I miss you and I need you." The sun had not yet risen and his Majesty, King Elessar was standing on the balcony of his sitting room, looking out across the plains towards Mirkwood—the Elven realm that had his Beloved. Before Legolas left, everything was as it should be.

When the Ring was destroyed and Gandalf rescued Sam and Frodo, Aragorn had his hands full in the Houses of Healing; though out of danger, Éowyn and Faramir still needed him. But it wasn't very long after, that the healing of Middle-earth began and Legolas along with the remaining members of the Fellowship and the citizens of the White City aided their soon-be-crowned Monarch in this pursuit.

Gimli took on the role as overseer to the company of dwarven stonemasons who came to help repair Minas Tirith as well as Osgiliath and Ithilien. Legolas and Sam took it upon themselves to save the many gardens and the surrounding forest that lay in ruin both from the War and years of neglect under rule of the late Denethor II. Gandalf, the Twins of Imladris and the Dúnedain Rangers of the North (less Halbarad who fell at Pelennor Fields) and the remaining Rangers who served under Faramir spent months chasing down fleeing Orcs, Uruk-hai and Ringwraiths (who remained elusive). Aragorn accompanied them for a time, but had to return to the White City when the people began to despair that they might lose him before he had a chance to take the throne and return Gondor to the days when the great Kings of Old ruled.

He reluctantly returned when Legolas came to relay this message to him, the elf making him see the importance of the situation. Very soon he would be King and he now belonged to Middle-earth and her concerns were paramount.

Aragorn smiled when he remembered his response to this statement from Legolas. He said, 'I may belong to Middle-earth, but only secondly, for prior ownership belongs to a certain beautiful Elven Prince from Mirkwood.' He went back, leaving the job in the capable hands of Mithrandir and took up the mantle of ruler under the guidance of the now recovered Steward Faramir, the Royal Councilors and his more than capable betrothed.

The former ranger missed being out there roaming free in the wilds for the most part, but he never minded being with Legolas who was never far from his side. Even when he was hold up in some dusty room handling the business of running the Kingdom and the wood-elf was out planting trees, shrubs and flowers, they knew that only moments separated them and they could be together at any time and would be together at night—talking or loving each other in the manner that they established in Mirkwood thirty-five years prior. Then everything changed when Legolas was summoned home by his father King Thranduil.

It was three weeks to Aragorn's coronation and they were sitting in the newly restored Royal Garden sharing wine and food as part of a celebratory picnic to honor Legolas' work, who quickly pointed out to the man that Sam as well as several servants and citizens helped out; but Aragorn pointed out to him that while he appreciated their contribution (which he would acknowledge later), he didn't have an ulterior motive to get any of them alone—needing the Prince's passionate kisses as well as bestowing some of his own on Legolas. They had finished eating and was just getting to the passionate kissing when a messenger from Mirkwood arrived with an urgent missive from Thranduil recalling him home.

In addition to giving his father an explanation for joining the Fellowship instead of returning to Mirkwood after his mission to Rivendell was complete, Legolas was needed to secure Mirkwood that was still being plagued by Orcs and spiders, though many had fled when Sauron fell.

The dúnadan pleaded with him to stay, citing the need for the Prince there with him—Minas Tirith still needed his help. 'I need your help,' Estel told him almost panic-stricken. In a calm voice, Legolas reminded the mortal that even though he considered the White City his new home, Mirkwood was still the home of his birth, having lived there for hundreds of years and his adar needed him. His King still had his loyalty both as a subject and as a son—he had to go.

'What of my coronation and our bonding ceremony—will you leave before the former and cancel the latter? And what of your loyalty to me as your King? Does that not matter at all to you?'

'Of course all that matters,' Legolas told him. 'But there is no competition between you and my adar—it is not an either/or situation. Once I become your consort, I will be a citizen of this great city, but for now, I am a citizen of Mirkwood and I am needed there. I will not leave until after your coronation, but I will—we will—have to postpone our wedding until I return.'

'If you return,' the man said petulantly. His mood was masking his true feeling which was a deep fear that had been steadily growing since he summoned the Dead to fulfill their oaths. What happened afterwards on their way to the black ships still haunted him.

'I give you my word that I will and I have never lied to you.' The blond turned Aragorn's face towards him, speaking directly in his eyes. 'I. Will. Return. To. You! I promise.' Then he kissed his future husband and left to write an acknowledgement letter to send his father by way of the Mirkwood messenger.

The Prince was true to his word and left the day after Aragorn's coronation and ever since then, the man had tried in vane to push his fears aside and trust in Legolas' word. But Aragorn knew that sometimes people failed to keep their promises despite their best intentions. Boromir promised to protect Frodo and see to the Ring being destroyed, but he was nearly corrupted by the Evil thing and lost his life redeeming himself. Noble, honest people sometimes failed to keep their word when outside forces interfered and this could happen with his Beloved.

There was still evil in Mirkwood and it was infested with vile creatures with very little to lose; the chance to destroy the elves there would be a great motivator especially since many of the Firstborn had already sailed across the sea and many, many more were set follow. Middle-earth would be free of the Fair Beings once and for all and the Orcs and Uruk-hai would gladly die to accomplish this feat. In an effort to insure Legolas' safety, King Elessar asked that he take along with him the Dúnedain Rangers who were already dedicated to destroy the Evil Horde—but the blond Prince refused saying that King Thranduil would not welcome their help and wouldn't appreciate Legolas making such a decision that was clearly under the King's domain. 'If Adar needed outside help, he would have formerly requested it through diplomatic channels; he would be insulted, A'maelamin.' And that was the end of it.

And now, here Aragorn stood watching the sun rise over the healing city, seeing none of its beauty. Legolas loved watching the sun come up, often singing to welcome the new day while serenading Aragorn awake most mornings. There was no singing this morning, only the noises of a waking city and the silent breaking of its Monarch's heart.

"Aragorn. Did you na' here me knocking upon your door, lad?" Gimli was standing behind the man beneath the arched doorway leading to the balcony where he had been standing for hours. "You're wearing the same clothes you were in when last I saw you leaving the Royal Dining Hall. You haven't slept." The last was stated.

"I'm sorry, Gimli." The dwarf wasn't sure for what his friend was apologizing, but Gimli suspected that it had nothing to do with what he himself had been talking about.

"What troubles you, my friend, though I think I can guess?"

"He's not coming back." The Ruler said in a defeated voice.

"Nonsense! The elf would na' break his word to you—it's not in him to do so. You must keep the faith; he'll not abandon his true love." The dwarf was now next to Aragorn.

"He nearly did not too long ago. You remember, don't you? We had left with the Dead Men of Dunharrow for Pelargir to rout the Corsairs of Umbar and capture the black ships; when we reached the harbor there, I almost lost Legolas to the sea. He heard the call of the gulls."

Gimli closed his eyes briefly as he remembered the anguish that both Legolas and Aragorn went through—it was heart-breaking.

"It was like he was under the trance of some spell. I should have heeded Galadriel's warning; I should have forbade him to come with me and left him with King Théoden." Aragorn was reliving his pain.

"He wouldn't have listened even if you had. We were both determined to stay with you through it all. Come, Aragorn; sit down." Gimli led him to a chair just inside the sitting room, the pale morning light bathing the room in gentle hues of gold. "Don't torture yourself; everything worked out and you did na lose him." The dwarf was very worried about his friend. He prayed that Legolas would return soon. If you don't get back here soon, I'll go and drag you back here by you're pointed little ears, Princeling!

"It almost didn't. For a long while, Legolas didn't seem to know who I was and he fought hard to get away from me. I had to hold him and kiss him until finally, he became aware of me. I had to stay in physical contact to keep him grounded; he rode with me before Brego the rest of the day and when we reached the ships and the Dead destroyed the Corsairs, he stayed by my side the entire way to Pelennor. But I could still see the sea-longing in his eyes."

"You saved him, my Friend." The dwarf patted him on his thigh.

"Did I? I think that it was the battle and being away from the harbor where the seagulls no longer spoke to him." Estel doubted that he had anything to do with keeping his Prince from sailing West even though Legolas told him otherwise. He told Aragorn that even though he didn't recognize his voice or his face, he remembered the smell and taste of him and the feel of him. 'Your pull is much stronger than Valinor, Mela. I will always choose you.'

"Nonsense!" Gimli was determined to get him out of this mood. "I'm starving; why don't we go down and get something to eat before those blasted Hobbits eat everything not nailed down?" The Halflings had remained in Minas Tirith after the Coronation, promising to stay for the wedding—Legolas promising to return before Yule which was eight weeks away.

"I'm not hungry, Gimli; you go."

"Not without you. Besides; I like being seen with the King—makes me feel important and you can na' believe the perks that come along with that!" Aragorn wasn't fooled for a moment by the Ereborean's 'reasons' for wanting to go to breakfast with him, but he appreciated the effort. He also realized that being with his friends might prove to be the distraction he needed to forget his despair. Afterwards, he would join Faramir and immerse himself in his duties, occupying himself until midday when he will be free once more to wallow in despondency.

"Very well, Master Dwarf; let's go eat me out of home and hearth before the Hobbits have the chance to do so!" He quickly washed up and changed his clothes—no need upsetting his friends and new subjects seeing him still in yesterday's garb—and then he and Gimli left his chambers.

They had nearly reached the stairs leading away from the Royal Suites to the common areas when he heard the trumpets blaring. Someone was returning home.

Legolas.

Then aloud, "Legolas!" The King's feet seemed to take flight and he took the stairs two and three at a time, Gimli right behind (somewhat) fearing for the man's safety. Before he could reach the bottom, a Guardsman of the Citadel met him on one of the landings to inform him that a large delegation was on its way to the White City. A rider from Mirkwood arrived to relay the news, the main delegation just visible on the horizon. "I am told that they will be here within two hours. From what I can see, they don't appear to be in a great hurry, Your Majesty." The young man told his King.

"Where is the rider now?" Aragorn asked anxiously and somewhat impatiently.

"He is watering and resting his horse. That is what I am told, Sire." The guard was a bit nervous, thinking that he had somehow upset his King who was now running the rest of the way downstairs, Gimli following again, having caught up with him on the landing as he spoke with the Gondorian guard, but he lost ground once the King reached the bottom ran outside.

Estel was headed to the stables, not willing to just send for the herald. Before he got halfway there, he was met by his brother Elrohir who was leading a saddled Brego. "No need questioning the Mirkwood messenger, he was only told to deliver the message that 'a son of Gondor was returning home,' as evidenced by the horns." The King's eyes lit up, a huge smile alighting his face to match his sibling's. Legolas' message was loud and clear.

"Hannon le, Muindor-nin (my brother)." Briefly hugging his brother, Aragorn swiftly mounted Brego and raced through the busy streets of Minas Tirith, mindful of its citizenry as they went along with their early morning duties, delighted and curious to see their King riding through the city in a hurry and so unguarded. The pace he had to maintain was maddening, but once he reached the main courtyard leading out of the city, he picked up his pace—that is until he reached the main gate which was blocked, not only by the regular compliment, but by the Dúnedain as well.

"Stand aside good Men of Gondor (he included the Rangers). Your King will be leaving the city to go fetch his intended." Aragorn made to move, but the 'good Men of Gondor' stood their ground.

"Nay, Your Majesty. We can not allow that." Targon, one of the Northern Rangers said.

Elessar's brow raised incredulously. "Nay? Nay!" He shouted at his loyal subjects.

Not at all concerned, the Númenórean smiled at his former Chieftain and repeated, "Nay! At least, not alone." They entire group burst out laughing, happy to see an end to their King's suffering and loneliness. Aragorn smiled in return and allowed a small group of ten to escort him, Targon and one of his personal guards at his side as they passed through the main gates.

The royal entourage secretly smiled to each other and laughed fondly behind their respective hands at the First High King of the Reunited Kingdom. None of them would have voiced what they were all thinking, which was the man was truly adorable. He was fidgeting in his saddle, anxious to get to his goal like an infant who had just learned to walk and his mother was refusing to put him down from her lap.

In the last forty minutes, Aragorn had torn off his regal robe, tossing it to one of the Gondorians, and had been pulling at his high collar, cursing himself for dressing so formally this morning. Had he known that he would be riding out, he definitely would have worn his old ranger's garb—or something equivalent—since he wasn't sure where his old clothes were. He suspected that either Arwen or Legolas (or both) more than likely had them buried or burned them—afraid he'd don them some morning before attending a meeting with his council or hearing petitions in the Great Hall.

Some of the Dúnedains who, like Aragorn, had some Elvish blood, could clearly see the Mirkwood delegation and their colors, standards flying high in the late morning breeze; but they were unable to make out any individual person unlike their Elven counterparts. Legolas was able to recognize his Estel almost immediately since he left the confines of Minas Tirith, knowing that the man would be coming out to meet him once he received Legolas' message.

The Prince was just as anxious as the Gondorian Monarch, fidgeting in much the same way as Aragorn. Thranduil and the rest of the Royal Family were just as amused as the Gondorians had been, not in the least put off by the annoyed stares the beautiful elf threw their way when he noticed or heard their none-too-subtle snickers at his—and Estel's—predicament.

When they were about twenty minutes away from each other, Legolas and Aragorn would be restrained no longer, deciding about the same time to break away from their respective escorts. Brego and Arod (the Prince was gifted the stallion after his contributions during the War), feeling their owners' restlessness, were given their heads and broke into a fast run, dust of the once green plains flying in their wake.

Both Rohirric horses eat up the miles separating the two lovers, their companions keeping up, but at a respectable distance, until Aragorn and Legolas were mere yards away from each other. Slowing to a trot, the man and elf inched closer together until they stood side by side, one facing the other.

At first, they simply stared, Legolas drinking in the sight of Estel and he of the Prince. The King was dressed in finely-tailored clothing, rich fabrics befitting his station—strange to the Dúnadan, but they suited his handsome frame. The wood-elf looked like an exquisite, wild thing, hair free of braids and flowing, tresses whipping about his shoulders and platinum strands glowing in the late morning sun. His garb was a simple light-green tunic that resembled a long-sleeved shift, reaching down to his ankles, split on both sides—bare legs and bare feet showing. Aragorn was spellbound.

Each continued to gaze upon the other; then gradually as tears formed in cerulean blue eyes, the man reached his hand out to touch the Sindarin, coming within millimeters; enough to feel the heat emanating from the glowing, pale flesh, but not coming in contact, fearful the being would disappear like smoke through his fingers. Legolas closed his eyes and turned his lovely face into the cupped rough palm of his beloved, needing to prove to himself that the man was real. Once flesh touched flesh, it was all either needed to pull the other firmly within a tight embrace, causing the tears that Estel had been fighting to contain since his Perfect One left so many months ago to fall freely, drenching the sweet-smelling neck of the Mirkwood Prince.

With an anguished growl, Aragorn buried his fingers into elf's soft hair before pushing him away enough to devour the dusky-pink lips before him. It was not a gentle kiss, Legolas opening his mouth immediately, forcing his tongue into the, warm cavern of the Monarch's mouth, engaging his eager tongue in a passionate duel. They couldn't get close enough, still astride separate stallions; so the blond wrapped his arms firmly about the former ranger and propelled himself from Arod's back to Brego's, seating himself astride the King of Gondor.

Abandoning the silky hair, Aragorn slid his arms around Legolas' waist, enveloping him and pressing the slender form closer to his own body as he deepened the kiss until the need to breathe forced the pair apart.

Breathing hard, the man said his first words to his betrothed, "Forgive me, Mela—please, forgive me."

"Forgive—why forgive?" Blue eyes puzzled.

"I...I lost faith. I did not think I would ever see you again. I am sorry." His voice was husky with his sorrow.

"There is nothing to forgive; I feared the same many times, My Love. My despair at being parted from you was nearly too great." The Prince was equally sorrowful. "But I was determined to return to you—no matter what it took. You do not need to apologize. But..." The elf paused, mischief replacing his sadness, "...If you truly wish to make it up to me, Your Majesty, you could...beg...my pardon."

Getting into the spirit, Elessar inquired, "Beg? As the newly crowned King of Gondor, I cannot beg officially—It would be...unseemly. We could...treat...officially."

"And unofficially?"

"Unofficially—and in private—I will fall to my knees before you and beg for your forgiveness and anything else you desire." He was nuzzling the wood-elf's fragrant neck.

"That sounds satisfactory, but I warn you, I am not so easily won over. I am a Royal Prince of Eryn Lasgalen, formally Mirkwood and the son of Thranduil. I expect to be given the due of one of my station; I will not be cajoled half-heartedly nor will I be won over by false flattery. I am above all of these things, but..." The beautiful Prince's dimples were on full display as he fought to keep a straight face.

"But," The Sovereign repeated enjoying the game.

"...I am not above bribery—of all kinds; both tangible and intangible.

"As Ruler, I can accommodate both; the tangible with jewels and the finer things—wine, food and song; and the intangible..." Voice trailing off briefly, "Would you be amenable to being adored and worshipped?"

"I like jewels," The Prince looked at his pale finger that bore Barahir pointedly, "And the finer things, and you may also worship me." Legolas agreed magnanimously.

"With all that is mine and all that I am!" Aragorn said seriously.

Smiling happily, Legolas told him, "Then take me home."

The man and elf kissed tenderly until some not-so-discreet coughing reminded the two that they were not alone. Eyes opened moments before each broke apart, Estel looking at the Mirkwood Party and Legolas gazing at the Escort from Gondor, sheepish grins gracing the faces of the entangled pair.

Laughter flowed from all parties, elves and men. Estel's chuckles mixed with the musical ones of Prince as he attempted to right himself forward on Brego, the man assisting Legolas by lifting him at the waist. Once accomplished, Aragorn guided the horse towards the elven group, stopping before Thranduil and greeting him. "Mae govannen, Aran (King) Thranduil. Welcome to Gondor."

"Mae govannen, King Elessar—Hannon le." The Prince's father rejoined.

"Oropher, Indis, Elurín—You are all most welcomed here." Each sibling smiled their thanks, placing their right hands to their hearts in greeting. "Your Majesty, would you like to take the lead?" Aragorn inquired of Thranduil.

"Nay, Good King of Gondor. This is your Realm; I yield to you as I am but a guest here." Elf King said.

"I will take the point, Aran-nin, but you are wrong. This is Legolas' home and you are his family which makes Gondor your home as well. You are now and will always be welcome here—no invitation or formal notice will ever be needed or expected." With that said, the man turned the black stallion around and fell in step behind Targon and one of Elessar's personal guards who rode side by side, following the rest of the Gondorian entourage; the Mirkwood King and Crown Prince and the King's personal guards flanked the rear of the couple as Arod rode beside Brego, rider-less, but somewhat content to be near his owner. The Princess Indis and younger brother Elurín followed next, closely followed by the rest of the wood-elf delegation numbering about six hundred.

As the morning turned to midday, the jovial group moved closer to Minas Tirith, the mild winter weather pleasant, snow clouds nowhere in sight. Aragorn and Legolas talked quietly, whispering words of love and talking of their upcoming nuptials, planning to send out invitations right away to Gondor's allies—well, perhaps not right away. Tomorrow or the next day will suffice.

"You are truly stunning, Beloved. I love seeing you like this, but I am puzzled to see you without your warrior braids. Why is that?" He was very curious.

"Do you remember long ago when we were planning our wedding and I told you about Silvan binding traditions?" At the man's nod, which tickled Legolas' shoulder, Estel's bearded chin perched atop it, the prince continued. "When an Elven couple decides in whose home they will live, the one who leaves his home—usually his parents'—forsakes all his or her possessions and go to his beloved's home free and unfettered. They arrive not as a warrior or Prince or whatever their rank they may hold; they are as the day they were born—for they are embracing a new life. He or she then fall to their knees in supplication before their new home and kiss the ground there in acceptance. The couple stands together later and says their vows to complete the binding."

"Yes—I remember now. But, I seem to remember you telling me that the bride or groom, when they leave their former home to go to their new one, would arrive exactly as they came into the world—with not a stitch on. Am I mistaken, Love?"

"No, you are not mistaken. That was the tradition among the Silvans for centuries before my ada became their King. Since then, over the years, the tradition changed somewhat and total nudity was replaced by simple clothing and little or no adornments—though some elves still follow the old ways. I didn't think that you would appreciate me arriving in the old tradition—or would you?" The Edhel (male elf) smirked.

"Only if we were alone—though I'm sure the rest of my company as well as the entire adult citizenry of Minas Tirith would like it, being nearly as much in love with you as their King!" The adan wrapped his arms possessively around Legolas.

"If they are in love with me, they are equally in love with you, Coramin (my heart)." The Prince's arms covered those of the man. "We're nearly home," Legolas said in a happy voice.

Tearing his eyes away from the vision in his arms, Aragorn saw that they were indeed. Calling to his guard, he ordered, "Anborn! Let the good people of Gondor know that their long-missed son is nearly home!"

"Aye, Sire!" Anborn said excitedly. The trumpets blew to alert the sentries who in turn took up the call, welcoming their beautiful Prince back home. As the horns blared, the Elves began to sing, their voices not at all at odds with the mannish instruments.

From his position, Legolas could see his new family and old friends awaiting them on the steps of the Citadel, mere yards away from the new tree of the King, thriving where the old Mallorn tree stood lifeless for many centuries—a new life that seem to reflect and honor his life with Estel. The Prince smiled—he was truly home.

Gandalf waited patiently in the main courtyard near Lampwrigth's street for the large group of men and elves to enter the city. He and Shadowfax 'spoke' quietly, both eager to see Prince Legolas again and the joy returned to Aragorn's face. He and his old friend (who decided to remain with the Maia until his time to sail West) decided to greet the Prince and his family here, that way he (they) could ride along side and get the news of Mirkwood and welcome home Legolas before he is swallowed up by family, friends and the festivities that have been planned and tweaked and hurriedly implemented the moment word spread that a Delegation from former Greenwood the Great had been spotted and her envoy was within the City bringing the good news.

It was all the Istari could do to convince the Halflings—Pippin especially—to remain near the Citadel, citing that the crowds in the courtyard and lining the streets would make it difficult for them to give their missed friend a proper greeting. He smiled inwardly as he recalled Frodo's knowing smirk, the Hobbit even wiser now than he'd always been for one so young. He knew that Gandalf was as close to the Mirkwood Royal Family as one could be without blood ties, akin to a loving uncle to the Princes and Princess and a brother to the King.

Heavenly singing brought Gandalf out his reverie as well as the near deafening roar from the throng of gathered citizenry as the King and his Prince entered the gates behind their escorts of guards and rangers. The Wizard's heart skipped a beat as he gazed upon Prince Legolas—he was stunning, his beauty always apparent from the moment Gandalf first laid eyes on him in his mother's arms.

It was plain to see that the Gondorans were awed by all the elves, the Royal Family especially. But the elf riding before their King held a special place in their hearts and he could tell from the first time they all entered the city after the battle in Pelennor Fields that the people of Gondor were drawn to him; finding out that their future King was in love with the warrior elf made them fall in love with him too—though his exceptional physical beauty inspired other baser emotions tempered by respect.

The Wizard and Shadowfax moved forward through the flanking Dúnedain and Gondoran Rangers (who respectfully stepped aside) and smiled before wrapping his arms around Legolas, an achievement considering Aragorn refused to relinquish his hold on the Sindarin. "Welcome home, my dear sweet boy! You have been sorely missed."

"Thank you, Gandalf—I have missed you, too." The young Prince gave the White Wizard a tight squeeze, blinking back tears of joy.

Placing a brief kiss on the pale forehead, Mithrandir backed away to greet King Thranduil, the two smiling in a subdued manner though their love and respect were reflected in their eyes; he was then greeted less formally by the Sindarin children awaiting their turn with Gandalf, having not seen him for several years due to the business with the One Ring.

Before long, the group made to move the procession along—once around the courtyard to give all the people there a chance to cheer in greeting and then finally through each level, the streets strewn with heather and also wild rose petals that floated down from balconies and windows as they passed.

Many Gondoran natives would remark for days and weeks (perhaps months) about the spectacle that day, their joy tenfold at what they saw; not sure if they were more cheered by the sight of the future Prince Consort returned home or seeing the love and happiness reflected on King Elessar's face because of it. Either way, there would be celebrations and rejoicing from here to Osgiliath from this day onward until the Royal wedding and for weeks thereafter as Delegations, Emissaries and all manner of visitors come to pay their respects to the High King of the Re-united Kingdoms and his Royal Prince Consort.

To be concluded in Part 2

¹wikipedia website

A/N: The section that speaks about Legolas' hearing of the seagulls was inspired by Romi's depiction of it in her epic fiction Seven Deadly Sins, Greed Part Eight. It is no longer on the web, but if you contact her at her LJ which is 'Friends Only' (but she does accept emails), she may make it available for you. If you get the chance to read it, it is sooo worth it!

The Silvan bonding rituals mentioned were totally made up by me, partly inspired by Star Trek: NG and Betazoid wedding traditions.