Warning: (Very, very) mildly explicit birth scene. I don't think it's anything that needs a warning per say but it's better to be save than sorry.

Arwen continued to stand in the doorway long after Legolas had brushed around her and charged out of sight. Her mind was much too full of shock and anguish to do something so complicated as make her feet work, either to walk forward or confront her husband or go backwards and run away from it all. She couldn't even register the fact that she was still in a semi-public place where anyone, like one of the guards patrolling the corridors or one of her brothers whom she'd just bidden goodnight to, could happen upon this sorry scene at any moment and question her about her tears. The only thing her mind seemed capable of doing as she stared at Aragorn was futilely deny everything she'd just learned. No, this couldn't really be happening; no, she'd just overheard the conversation between the Man she was in love with and the elf she loved as a brother horribly, horribly wrong. And yet…yet now that she was forced to think about it and look back it all made too much sense to not be true.

But if it was true then that would mean…oh dear Elbereth! It was getting more and more difficult to breathe as she clutched at her chest. Aragorn and Legolas has a relationship, both before she'd met the Man and during the War when she was struggling to hold onto what she thought was their dream to be together? Aragorn was Caladel's sire and that's why Legolas fled without a word all those years ago? And the way Aragorn had been speaking just now: it sounded like he was willing to do almost anything to coax Legolas back into his life and bed, even forsake her so utterly. Especially forsake her so utterly – he'd sounded so blasé about where she fit in his life. Did he not even like her anymore?

This was too much. By all that was good in Middle-earth, why hadn't she walked away when she'd heard Legolas' raised voice coming out of her and Aragorn's bedchamber? She always thought that being untrue to herself and living a lie would be the worst feeling in the world but now she couldn't imagine it being any more horrible than what she was experiencing right then and there. It felt as if someone had punched her in the stomach and ripped her heart from her chest at the same time. Ignorance was definitely an undesirable state but she still longed to have just a few more minutes of it – just a chance to savor a last bit of happiness before she had to confront the farce that apparently was her life. Neither the Valar nor Eru, however, seemed inclined to give it to her.

While his wife wrestled internally with her shock and devastation Aragorn could do little more than stare at her with his mouth hanging open slightly, as if something was on the tip of his tongue but he couldn't quite give it voice yet. With very few exceptions Aragorn had never been so dumbfounded in his life. Of course he'd dreamed of the day that he could tell Arwen how much he loved Legolas for years and he worked through his mind exactly what he was going to say, but this particular situation had never once been featured in his imagination. In all of his fantasies she didn't know anything until he told her and then responded either indifferently, supportively, or else furiously spewing violent threats that helped her fulfill the roll of 'villainess' in his mental drama. To see her weeping, looking at him as if he'd spat on her while struggling and failing to maintain some sort of composure made him feel something he hadn't felt in a long time: he felt sorry for her.

"Arwen," he uttered at last, groping desperately in his mind for what he should say next. Nothing came to him, so he simply let his hand shake slowly and slightly as if he were trying to move it underwater.

"Is it true?" she sobbed even though she already knew the answer to that. She hugged herself tightly, desperate for any comfort she could find. She had to hear it from him telling her directly.

"How – how long were you listening?" stammered Aragorn. Maybe there was a chance she didn't hear everything. He could explain those parts in a much gentler manner and then perhaps she would stop looking at him like that.

"Why do you want to know?" she asked him right back with a twinge of hostility and hysteria in her tone. "Do you want to figure out just how much you need to confess to? Placate your 'distraction' so that you get back to thinking about how she ruined your life and plotting to rid yourself of her in peace?"

Aragorn clenched his jaw. He was trying to do something nice for her after what he'd just put her through and her responding accusations were very hard to take. "That was a private conversation," he insisted, hardness creeping back into his voice. "You were not invited to listen to it and you had no right to eavesdrop."

"I was concerned!" Arwen cried, pouring out her anguish in those three words. "Yes, I admit I was curious too, but mostly I was concerned when I heard Aragorn yelling. Any fool could see the tension between the two of you today and I was worried that you were fighting and saying things you'd regret later. It's my right as your wife to see to it that you're all right."

"Your right?" repeated Aragorn incredulously, frustrated beyond belief at her assertions that their marriage gave her the right to essentially spy on him. That in itself didn't clear up all of the guilt he was feeling just seconds before but it did remind him of why it had taken him so long to feel sorry for her in the first place. His confrontation with Legolas had been the most intimate thing he'd engaged in for years; finding out she'd been listening left him feeling violated. "What about my right to have a little privacy? What about Legolas' right? You cannot claim spousal privilege when it comes to him – or are your rights more important than his? Could you not have given us one moment's peace?"

Arwen couldn't believe the words coming from her husband's mouth or the bitter irritation that seemed to drip off of them. "You condemn me?" she wondered in amazement. "After all I just heard?"

The Man winced a little as the volume of her voice rose. "If you can't give me some peace at least give it to everyone else!" he burst out, waving angrily and wildly at a point just beyond her. "You'll have all of Meduseld awake in a minute! Close the door and come in!"

She shut the door with a rather vicious slam that echoed off the walls, stepping only far enough away from it to not get in the way of its closing. "Don't talk to me like that," she warned him as all of her emotions welled up inside until it felt like she would explode if she didn't release them right away. To be fair she probably would have been confrontational even if he'd immediately and sincerely groveled for forgiveness, but witnessing his hostility and disdain for her firsthand brought them all to the surface faster. "I know I don't have as much life experience as you; I know I haven't met as many different people or traveled to as many different lands. But I will not tolerate you speaking to me in that condescending tone right now!"

"There was no condescension in my tone," shot back Aragorn snippily. "I was simply reminding you that you're not the only one in this building. You don't need a lot of life experience to know how to be considerate of other people!"

"Well, you're proof that all the life experience in the lands can't teach you consideration," retorted Arwen, crying openly with both sorrow and anger. "I just found out you had an affair with one of my oldest and dearest friends, impregnated him, abandoned him for me – a person you apparently cannot stand – and turned both your life and mine into a gigantic lie. And if that wasn't enough, you journeyed all the way from Minas Tirith to Rohan for the sole purpose of destroying Legolas' chance at happiness with his intended by swearing that you'll make sure I don't stand between you two anymore! How dare you lecture me on consideration for other people's feelings?"

"Fine – you're right and I'm wrong," snapped Aragorn with too much impatience for his words to be mistaken as sincere. "You're sweet and wonderful and perfect and only an idiot wouldn't want you; and I am a villain, a cur, and a heel who is wicked for not seeing how utterly wonderful you are. Are your satisfied enough now to leave me be?"

"Not yet," she declared. "There's something I've always vowed to do if I ever found out who was responsible for driving Legolas away." With no further ado she stalked over to Aragorn and slapped him as hard as she could across the face.

The Man's head recoiled from her surprisingly forceful blow. "I loved you," raged Arwen. She then paused, grasped her forehead, and shook her head in frustration. "Why am I trying to fool? Even after all of this I love you still."

"I do not ask for it," muttered Aragorn.

"There was a time you did," Arwen reminded him fiercely, her face crumpling as she thought of the two of them in happier moments. All of those couldn't have been a lie – while he was shockingly insensitive right then she knew Aragorn could never be deliberately cruel enough to set out to deceive her all along. "Why, Aragorn? Why did you let me give up my immortality and marry you if I truly meant nothing to you?"

"I didn't let you give up your immortality," Aragorn told her, still feeling the sharp sting of her slap on his cheek. If he was to be condemned by her that night he would made damn sure that it was only for truthful reasons. "I all but escorted you to the Grey Havens myself so don't blame me for your decision to stay! Trust me when I say I lament it as much as you now do."

Arwen glared furiously at him. "You never said or did anything that would make me see you didn't love me," she all but snarled.

"As you should recall," Aragorn practically hissed, "I told you not to give me the Evenstar pendant. And then, after you insisted on me taking it no matter how much I objected, I tried to give it back and you refused it. Were those not explicit enough?"

"All of those things only served to make me love you more!" yelled Arwen. Then, as if that admission had robbed her of her energy she let out a heartbroken sob and sank down onto the bed. "I saw what I thought was your selflessness on my behalf, your willingness to sacrifice your own happiness so that I may enjoy eternal peace, and how difficult it was for you to leave me and I loved you more than ever because of it." She laughed bitterly but weakly and it sounded like she was choking. "I suppose it's rather ironic, don't you think? You were inspiring me to hold on tightly by the way you tried to tell me goodbye."

Aragorn sighed and cradled his forehead in his hand. Her anger had been fueling his own and now that she wasn't showing it anymore his energy level was descending rapidly. "Arwen…"

"You were certainly selfless and sacrificial when you left Legolas for my sake," she went on, staring at her hands as she fiddled half-heartedly with her fingers. "It was your bad luck that what worked on me didn't work on him. Or maybe it would have – he might have suffered the same fate as me, loving you for your self-sacrificing nature and staying in a life that had no room in it for him, if it weren't for Caladel. Finding out he was pregnant must have made him fully appreciate what an awful situation he was in and gave him new strength in focusing on what was best for his baby. In a way I envy him."

"I'm sure he would tell you that what he went through wasn't anything to be envious of," interjected Aragorn a tad protectively, not liking how she was making light of his love being pregnant and alone for so long.

"I have no doubt it was difficult for him, but at least now he has the chance to be free of you," replied Arwen miserably. "And now I have this moment, though I can never be as free as he can." She looked up at Aragorn suddenly with imploring eyes. "Why did you marry me? Why did you not tell me you no longer love me?"

"I didn't want to hurt your feelings," replied Aragorn awkwardly, fully aware of the irony of that statement. "We'd been together for decades. I just wanted to end our relationship as gently as possible; I admit that was as much for my own peace of mind as it was for your sake, but I swear my intentions were good. Things just didn't work out as well as I'd hoped they would."

Arwen shook her head as a memory of an encounter between them flooded her mind. "'It was a dream, Arwen – nothing more'," she recited those hurtful words from it aloud. Aragorn cocked his head questioningly but didn't say anything. "Ai Elbereth, you really meant that. I'd thought you were just being poetic about how enchanting your feelings for me were and how wonderful our relationship had been, but you really meant exactly what you said."

"I was trying not to be misleading," asserted Aragorn. "I didn't tell you I loved you when I tried to give the Evenstar back. And you never asked me why I was doing that in the first place – you just assumed."

She closed her eyes briefly and sniffled. "All right," she said heavily. "I concede that I misinterpreted your polite rejection and did not ask for clarification because I loved you and wanted to stay with you. However, marrying someone is not letting them down gently. You cannot blame me for not seeing that as a sign that you didn't love me! Please, Aragorn; if nothing else you owe me an explanation about why you bound yourself to me when you didn't love me."

"You had just given up everything for one reason alone: because of me," stressed Aragorn. "You almost died because you believed in our relationship so much. How was I supposed to look you in the eye and tell you I didn't want to marry you after you bound yourself to Middle-earth and its fate for me? You would have been destroyed" –

"Destroyed?" repeated Arwen disbelievingly. He could tell by her expression when she looked straight at him that she didn't know if she would laugh or cry at this notion. It made him more than a little uncomfortable. "I'm devastated now, to be sure, but even after finding out that the blissful marriage and family life I have is in fact a lie I am still not destroyed. Learning that you didn't love me before the marriage and children couldn't have been any worse than this."

The Man opened and closed his mouth repeatedly. "You just seemed" – he began.

"What makes you think the people who fall in love with you can't live without you?" continued Arwen, not acknowledging that he said anything. "There's yet another thing Legolas and I have in common – you believe that both of us should be head over heels in love with you for eternity no matter how callously you treat us." She threw her hands up in the air and gave him a pointed Look. "I would have been distraught, angry, and maybe even hated you but no one wants to end up married to someone who doesn't love them. I would have dealt with all of those feelings and moved on with my life if you'd just told me the truth!"

Aragorn was already shaking his head. "What proof do you have of that?" he demanded, his indignation and denial mixing well with the overwhelming realization that he might have misjudged her. "It wouldn't have been like when your mother left for the Undying Lands, Arwen – within a short time there would have been no Ada, no Galadriel, and almost no more elves in Rivendell. You've never dealt with an emotionally difficult situation in your life without having a slew of people surrounding you to cushion the blow."

"Because no one has ever given me the chance to try!" exploded Arwen, angrier at herself than at him for this particular point. She hadn't realized until their confrontation just how much most people treated her like a child, always sending her off or brushing her aside when something potentially painful happened, and she was sick of it. "You lied to me and broke up with me so delicately that I didn't realize our relationship was over, and now I find out that Ada bullied and manipulated three people he supposedly loved – yes, three; I was a pawn in his schemes too – and for what? So I could get everything I wanted while Legolas lost everything I now see rightly belonged to him? Neither of you allowed me to make my own decisions about this! Dear Elbereth, did anyone else know about this mess before me?"

"Gimli must have pried it out of Legolas whenever he found out he was here, but I'm sure you were the last thing on his mind when he discovered the truth," responded Aragorn truthfully, for there was no reason to soften the facts for her now. "And Elladan somehow figured it out by last Solstice."

"No wonder my brother's been so attentive lately," muttered Arwen. "How dare you all of you decide what I can and can't handle without consulting me? This is my life."

Aragorn hung his head, unable to answer. She was absolutely right, of course – she'd been coddled all her life by her father, her brothers, her husband, and even by her dear friend Legolas and never allowed to solve her problems on her own or deal with difficult situations because there had always been someone around, insisting on making things better for her. "I don't know what to say," he confessed, sitting down next to her and starting off at nothing with a dazed expression in his eyes. "I didn't mean to hurt you or anyone else. I have always tried to do the right thing."

"I know," Arwen told him wearily. "But you fell into the same trap that Ada was stuck in: you believed that you and you alone knew what the right thing was and didn't bother to consult the other people who also had a stake in the situation. Maybe we could have come to a more amicable and livable solution if the three of us who were actually involved in all of this had the chance to sit down and talk before things got out of hand."

"I'm sorry," Aragorn half said and half breathed, apologizing to all three of them.

She looked at him, her expression imploring but fearful of the answer. "Did you ever love me at all?" she asked. "Be – be honest, please."

"I once thought I did," replied Aragorn in a soft and almost toneless voice. "At least I told myself I was in love with you. It's not implausible, Arwen – you are very beautiful and kind, but my heart was never yours. It was always nice to see you when my journeys took me back to Rivendell but the idea of binding myself to you never appealed to me. When I saw Legolas the night before the Council I finally understood my hesitation – I knew I loved only him."

"And what about the…the aspects of our marriage?" pressed Arwen, feeling more than a little queasy.

"I love our children with all I am," professed Aragorn sincerely. "Aside from everything else I'm glad the two of us were together to create them, for I can't imagine my life without them. But I'm…I'm not attracted to you in a physical way, Arwen. You were always someone who was meant to be admired from afar: lovely in appearance but never inflaming my desires. A dream, Arwen – and Legolas was the reality. But now Legolas is the dream and you are the reality; and it was never supposed to be that way, at least not for me."

Arwen swallowed hard and covered her mouth to push back any more sobs that were trying to escape her mouth. "Thank you for your honesty," she said faintly. It hurt more than anything to hear it but she'd asked for the truth and she couldn't fault him for finally giving it to her.

The pair sat together in awkward silence for several moments, both too deep in thought to speak for several moments. Then Arwen spoke again with resignation rather than accusation in her tone. "What really hurts is not that decades of lies have been exposed, leaving our lives in tatters," she commented. "It's that right now after we gone through all that together your mind is still only on Legolas."

"I can't help it," admitted Aragorn, closing his eyes for a second. "I never thought I would lose him completely but now – now I don't know what he wants. I don't know what to do."

"Do you love him, Aragorn?" asked Arwen. It was one of the most painful questions she'd ever asked anyone, but one of their miserable trio had the chance to have some happiness and she wanted him to have it.

"With all that I am," Aragorn told her quietly.

"Enough to not hinder him while he chooses his own path?" she questioned him. The Man cocked an eyebrow at her. "You've already done what you thought was right for me, and what – on some level – was right for you, or your reputation. Now if you truly – truly love him you'll do what Legolas decides what's right for Legolas no matter what that decision may be."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

As it turned out, the quiet place that Legolas was seeking wasn't all that difficult to find. There had been very few things during the last few tumultuous years that he felt he could truly grasp onto and Caladel was the most important one of them all. No matter how alone he'd felt, how confused he was about the true nature of his feelings for Aragorn, and how upset he felt about how they might affect his future with Eomer the elf prince was always certain of one thing: his love for his son. Only in Caladel's presence could Legolas begin to imagine finding the inner peace he needed to sort through the tangled knots of emotions within him.

The boy was sound asleep when Legolas silently opened the door, slipped into his bedchamber, and sank down in a chair at the side of the bed. Moonlight illuminated the boy's young face; the elf smiled as he recalled how much Caladel found comfort in the moon, so much so that his fathers had spent a good deal of time arranging the bed just so that it would shine down on him during the night. As he bonded more and more with the race of Men it was nice for his ada to see that his elvish side wasn't completely forgotten.

In the silvery light Legolas could see how meticulously the covers were pulled around him as well as the picture book of the history of Rohan on the elfling's night table. 'Eomer must have put him to bed,' thought Legolas. The book was a tell-tale sign – Eomer had been spending the last month going through each picture carefully and singing each song that went along with whatever was being depicted. He was sorry he missed it, for it filled him with a great amount of joy to watch Eomer interact with their son while listening to his wonderfully deep singing voice. 'I wonder how he explained to Caladel why I wasn't here.'

Filled with regret for letting down his son in any way, Legolas leaned forward as he watched his son sleep. 'What am I going to do, ion nin?' he asked Caladel silently. 'I love your papa so much but your blood sire still stirs something inside of me. But what is that something exactly? Oh child, I feel so lost and hurt. The only two people I've ever been in love with have caused me pain in the same night – not for the same reasons and not maliciously, but they've hurt me nonetheless. Why can't it be as easy with them as it is with you? You have never…'

He couldn't finish that thought, though, because he realized it wasn't true. Caladel had once caused him a great deal of pain – not spitefully or even intentionally, but it was still real. The boy could hardly be blamed for it (and Legolas had to admit that he himself had been the true cause for the majority of it), as he had been in the process of being born at that point. It had been a trial by fire for the elf and no matter what else happened in his life that day would always be burned in his memory.

O – Flashback – O

"I want my ada!" screamed Legolas piteously as another contraction attacked his body.

Even through the tears that were blurring his vision Legolas could see Treebeard regarding him with those well-deep eyes of his. "Perhaps I can find a way to fetch him for you," the old Ent offered graciously, knowing that his guest's pain must be terrible indeed if he was actually breaking down and asking for someone. For over seven months he'd heard nothing from him but 'I don't need anyone – I can do this on my own'. "I do not think he will be able to come to Fangorn in time, but" –

"No!" burst out Legolas, his tightly clenched jaw loosening a bit as the latest wave of pain passed, giving him a bit more clarity. "I'm just talking, Treebeard – don't send for my father, please!"

The sad thing was that it wasn't as if Legolas didn't want Thranduil to be there at his side. In fact the young elf was bitterly regretting the years he'd been alternatively exasperated and annoyed with his father's meddling in his life. He'd always stubbornly thought Thranduil was intruding on his independence, treating him like a child when it was so very clear he was an adult. Oh why had he been so defiant when his father had enforced rules on his relationship with Aragorn during that summer in Mirkwood? Why had he thought that he was so strong and wise he no longer needed Thranduil's guidance?

More than anything Legolas longed to have his ada there with him now. Thranduil would put his arms around him and, while he couldn't be able to totally take the pain away, he would be able to help his son through it and not feel so alone. But that was impossible and Legolas had no one to blame but himself for it.

Legolas had no choice but to be the father now and that scared him to his core. For the first time since that fateful night after Lord Elrond had left his bedchamber in Minas Tirith the elf doubted if he could do this – and this was not the time to start thinking that way. 'How am I going to raise this child?' he asked himself in sheer terror. 'I feel like I'm barely more than a child myself and now I have to be as good a father as Ada is? Ai, maybe…maybe I'd feel more confident if I could just get comfortable.'

He shifted painfully, propping himself up more against the tree he was leaning against and winced as the rough bark dug further into his back. Elbereth, that tree was causing him as much pain as the contractions, if not more. Legolas wished desperately that he could lie down on the soft, inviting turf but he couldn't – he'd only practiced delivering the baby in his current semi-sitting position. Why hadn't he had the common sense to become an expert at every birthing position just so he would have been prepared for anything? But no, he'd decided that this and only this position would do because it seemed to be the easiest one to maneuver in and now he was stuck with the consequences. He could be feeling the grass against his back instead of rough wood if he hadn't been so stubborn. At the very least he could have put more thought into what tree he was going to lean against instead of impulsively choosing one and regretting it later when moving had become pretty much impossible.

'I always seem to choose the way of pain,' thought Legolas miserably. 'That's how I ended up here all alone.'

No! He couldn't let himself think that way. He wasn't alone – he had Treebeard there to support him and, more importantly, he had his baby – his Caladel. This child needed him and he would never forgive himself if he failed him. Fear froze his heart in his chest as another, greater pain ripped through his abdomen. "Ai!" cried the elf suddenly, groping stiffly for the blanket he'd set by his side as more pain wracked his body. "Ai Elbereth, this is it! I have to push!"

"Push then," advised Treebeard with dry humor as he watched Legolas move his hands and the blanket into position.

"I can't," declared Legolas with a sob. "I can't let this baby down and there's no way I won't do just that! What was I thinking, Treebeard? I am not a strong enough person to be a father."

"Then you must become a stronger person," the Ent told him wisely. "Look deep within yourself, young Master Elf; I have seen you change so much since you came to live in my forest. It's quite exhausting for an Ent to watch that much change in such a short time but it's good for elves, especially elves who are about to become fathers. You will be a strong enough person to be a father, Legolas – you will grow as he does and you both will change together. Are you brave enough to become the person your son needs?"

"Yes," groaned Legolas as the unrelenting pain coursed through him.

"Good," declared Treebeard. "And now I will be your eyes."

Legolas wanted to do or say something affirmative but found it took all of his strength and concentration to keep himself in the adjusted position once he got himself into it. The changes his body had gone through to accommodate the birthing was more apparent now and even though he knew intellectually that it was only temporary it still scared him. Yet he could not allow that fear to take hold and rule him. Scrunching up his face with the effort he pushed as hard as he could.

His arms were shaking as he felt the head in his hands. "Very good," encouraged Treebeard. Legolas slumped, exhausted and desperate for a reprieve. "But don't stop now! You must keep pushing – that child needs air and you are the only one who can make sure he gets it."

Legolas dug deep inside himself for the strength to continue. With a loud yell he pushed again, agony shooting through him. His efforts were rewarded, though, as he saw and felt more of the baby's body in his hands. "You're doing so well," coached the Ent. "Right before my eyes you're becoming the person you need to be for both yourself and him. All you need to do now is push one more time."

"I don't think I can," gasped Legolas. He was so tired and it was so hard to deal with the pain…

"One more push," repeated Treebeard, more firmly this time. "Your child needs you and you need him. What is some temporary pain compared to that?"

The answer to that was simple: nothing. This baby was the most important thing to him and he knew he had to endure any level of pain if he could have his Caladel in the end. Legolas let out one last bellow that echoed through the forest as he pushed with all his might. His efforts were rewarded when the baby was completely born and in his trembling but solid hands.

A shrill, sweet cry filled the air, letting Legolas know that the baby was breathing properly. It was over – he was a father. The elf wanted to slump to the forest floor and sleep for days but he couldn't and didn't. Instead he very carefully lifted the baby – a boy, he could see plainly that his baby was a boy – to cradle him as he cleaned him off and cut and tied off the cord. Finally, when all of that was done, Legolas carefully laid back with the baby still cuddled in his arms.

"Now there's something you don't see every day," remarked Treebeard reverently.

"Try 'lifetime' and then you'll have it," corrected Legolas as he stared at his baby – his Caladel – in awe. He'd thought he knew what it was like to love before, but nothing compared to what he was feeling now. The precious little life in his arms had the power to make him stronger than he'd ever dreamed he could be and destroy him in a second – and he wouldn't have had it any other way. He may not have taken the easy way there, but for all his stubbornness and lack of experience Legolas had finally arrived at a place emotionally where he trusted both his feelings and those of the one he loved. At that moment Legolas knew he had changed for the better and could never go back to being the person he had once been.

"Welcome to the world, Caladel," whispered Legolas tearfully, touching the baby's cheeks and kissing the top of his hairless head. "I've been waiting a long time to meet you."

O – End Flashback – O

"Ada?"

Legolas pulled himself out of his memories and looked over at his son. Caladel had woken up sometime during his musings and rolled over so that he could look at him. "What are you doing awake at this hour, ion nin?" the elf asked, going over to the bed and readjusting the covers around the boy.

"That's what I was going to ask you," replied Caladel as he tiredly rubbed one eye with a small fist. "You need sleep more than me – you're the one getting married tomorrow and all. Why aren't you in bed?"

"I've got too much on my mind for sleeping," confided Legolas. He sat down on the edge of the bed. "I'm sorry I wasn't here to get your ready for bed and bid you goodnight."

"That's all right," said Caladel, although he had missed his father greatly. "Papa took care of me. Besides, I understand – there are lots of guests here you haven't seen in awhile. I know you want to visit with them."

Legolas smiled wistfully down at his son. "Do you know who I love more than anyone in all the lands?" he asked rhetorically, answering his own question before Caladel could do more than look at him curiously. "You. No matter who the guests may be, how many friends and family member there are around, or where life takes us I will always love you more than anyone or anything else, Caladel."

The little boy smiled as his father kissed his brow. "I love you too," he said happily. "You're in a funny mood, Ada. Did something happen?"

"Yes," smiled Legolas warmly, knowingly. "I just figured out something very complicated thanks to you."

"What did I do?" wondered Caladel inquisitively. He could only remember sleeping and then waking up to see his ada in there with him. As far as he could tell it was very hard to help someone in any way when you're sleeping.

"By reminding me of what's really important," answered Legolas, carefully vague. "By reminding me of who I am. Now get some rest, ion nin. I'll be back and in my bedchamber soon; I just need to speak to someone before I do that."

Legolas stayed in there until the boy's eyes were once again vacant with sleep. He felt strangely light and free of care – as one usually was after an enlightening revelation. It was a pattern with him, he realized, with how he always chose the difficult path just because he was too stubborn or too confident that what he was doing would make things easier. How much less pain there would have been if he'd only confronted his emotions sooner! He could have figured all this out awhile ago but it didn't matter now. The pain was worth it, as it had been before with Caladel, because on the other side of it was a Man whose love made enduring it nothing in comparison.

He'd always known his heart but now he finally understood it.

To be concluded…