17
Homecoming
A/N: It always seemed that Legolas, more than any other "modern," or fourth-age Elf, had an affinity for behaving as a man.
This chapter is rated M for non-explicit sexual activity.
When Legolas arrived back in Ithilorien, it had been fully six months since he and Gimli had set out from Minas Tirith after first meeting Lindaril. It had been November when he left, and it was now May. The past winter had not been very harsh in Ithilorien, which was a merciful thing, as winters can often be extreme in lands that have recently suffered wars. He had noticed the green pastures of the Shire upon passing through that country in January, but he was not prepared for the glory of Ithilorien, which welcomed him with the beauty of spring.
Cherry trees were in bloom with white and pink blossoms, and gave off sweet fragrance, as did the lilacs, and the many fruit trees. Great swaths of flowers drifted through the woods, from narcissi and trilliums, to niphredil and elanor. The water in the brooks ran fresh and clear as it tinkled over the rocks and stones glittering in the replenishing sunshine. Legolas breathed deeply and inhaled the scents of home, and opened his ears to the sounds of spring. He turned Arod in the direction of his house, and led the horse toward the stables.
With a deep sigh, Legolas dismounted, and stroked Arod's smooth white nose. "We have had a long journey, you and I," he said. "Now we must rest. I will go and find you a groom, as soon as I take these bags from your back. I must find a safe place for the burden that you have carried all the way from Moria to the Grey Havens and back. We have been very lucky, indeed, to have had no ill befall us through all our long travels."
Arod nudged Legolas's cheek in reassurance, as if to say, "All is well, Master," and the Elf then turned to go in search of a groom. At the precise moment he turned, he almost bumped into Fingalas, his cook and housekeeper, who had seen him arrive, and who had run in excitement to the stables in order to be the first one to greet him.
"My Lord," she said, out of breath. "Welcome home. We have all missed you terribly."
She noticed the change in him. He looked older. His face was drawn, and carried a worried look that had not been there before. He seemed thinner, also, as if something had been wearing him away. The look that was in eyes was different from the carefree look she remembered, and his demeanour had changed with it. He seemed almost vulnerable.
"Have you, Fingalas?" he asked. He took her hands in his, a gesture of intimacy that surprised her. He looked at her closely. He held her hands in his tight grip, and with a sense of urgency.
"I must put away a load that I have been carrying," he said to her, "and then I shall join you in the house. Would you mind preparing something for me to eat? I have not eaten proper food for months, and now feel the need for something to sustain me. A great weariness has come upon me, and I almost did not come home straight away. I had intended to stop at Minas Tirith first, but found that I did not have the strength to go there as I had planned."
Fingalas looked at him, her face bearing a worried frown, replacing the expression of joy that had been there when she first noticed his arrival. She pressed his hands together in her own. They felt cold in her warm grasp. "My Lord," she said with much concern, "I have prepared a meal for you already. When you have put away your load, you may come in and have it. And, if you wish, I would be most pleased to join you."
Then Fingalas turned on her heel and went back into the house. She was glad that Legolas could not see her face as she walked out of the stables. She felt very emotional, not only from the sight of her beloved master, as he looked to be in a troubled state, but also from the way in which he had spoken to her. He seemed in need of her, in a way that he never had before. Of course, she had been in love with him for years, and he had seemed never to notice her, but he was always somewhat haughty and remote. The haughtiness and the remoteness now seemed to have gone away. She was both overjoyed by his familiarity with her, and somewhat saddened by the change in him, at the same time.
After a few days, when Legolas was refreshed, and feeling stronger, he called Fingalas into his private room. Never before had he wished for any private space for himself, but since he had returned from his journey to Moria, he had wanted to be alone, and had requested that no one enter his room without first asking his permission. He had left the Silmaril in its wrapping in the stables during the first night that he had spent at home, but had since moved it into his bedroom. He felt this would be a safer place in which to keep it. Fingalas knocked on the new door of his room, which Legolas had put in just the day before. There had never been a door to his room. He bade her enter.
"I must ride to Minas Tirith soon," he told her. "It is regarding a matter of importance about which I must seek the advice of King Elessar."
"Very well, My Lord," Fingalas replied. "Would you like me to prepare a carry-all with some of your clothing and belongings?"
"No, it is not necessary for you to do that," he said. "But I wished to ask you if you would like to accompany me there."
Fingalas heart almost stopped. Legolas had never before asked her to go anywhere with him. She had been living in Minas Tirith when she had first met him, and had pleaded with him to take her to Ithilorien along with the Elves who were to follow him. Since then, she had been happily running his household. Gradually, she had come to love him, but felt that this love would always remain unrequited.
"I would like nothing better," she replied in a meek voice.
"I am glad to hear that," he said, smiling at her. "If you would help me to prepare, then, we can leave as soon as we are both ready."
Fingalas helped him to change into riding apparel, and then braided his long hair as he sat, silently pondering the fate of the Silmaril. Fingalas could see that he was distracted, and did not speak to him as she worked on his hair, which was very long and silky, and which he could not braid by himself. As she busied herself with it, Legolas absent-mindedly reached up and moved a strand of Fingalas' hair away from his face, where it had been hanging. He moved his hand up to tuck the hair behind her ear, when he inadvertently touched the top part of her ear, and then he palpated it with more attention. He looked at it, and was surprised to see that it was a rounded ear, as humans possess, and was not the pointed ear of an Elf.
"You are human," he said in a shocked voice.
"Yes," Fingalas said, blushing very red. "Did you not know?"
"But did you not tell me that you were an Elf, years ago, when you asked me to bring you to Ithilien?" he asked. He cast his mind back to when he had first met her.
Years ago, after the War, and before Aragorn, the present King of Gondor, had made Faramir, his steward, a prince, and had given him Ithilien to be his own, and before he had given Legolas a part of South Ithilien in which to establish his realm of Elves, Legolas had met Fingalas in the Houses of Healing, in Minas Tirith. She had been working there as a healer, and had been trained by an older woman named Ioreth. They were tending to the sick and wounded when Legolas had gone there to visit his friends Merry and Eowyn, who had both been wounded in battle. He had been discussing with them his plans to move the Elves who were exiled from Mirkwood and Lothlorien, when Fingalas had approached him and asked him if she could join the exiles. He had been surprised that she wanted to leave Minas Tirith and her work there, but she told him that she had personal reasons for so doing, and that she had originally come to Gondor from Lothlorien. He had agreed to let her come with him, believing that she was an Elf, and thinking that she would perhaps feel more at home in an Elvish colony. She had promised to contribute to the new forest realm by way of her healing skills. She had insisted that she was a superior cook and housekeeper, a claim that had proven to be true. He had not taken very much notice of her before now, because he had been too busy with his work and his travels with Gimli to be bothered with a love interest. They had traveled so much that he barely stayed in one place long enough to form any kind of relationship with a woman, although plenty of women had thrown themselves at him wherever he went.
He looked Fingalas gently in the eyes. "Why did you not tell me that you were a mortal woman?" he asked.
"Oh, Legolas," she said apologetically, "I am sorry, now, more than you know, to have deceived you. It was so long ago, and I had forgotten that you initially thought that I was Elvish. Please do not think less of me now. I could not bear it." Ashamed, and thinking that she had fallen out of favour with him, she buried her face in her hands.
"It is no matter," he said, putting his arms around her. "You know that King Elessar, who is mortal, of course, is married to an Elf-princess, and they are very happy together. There is nothing save permission from the Valar to prevent the like from happening once more."
He took his arms away, and then said, "Fingalas, do you realize that you have just called me "Legolas"? You have never called me by only my first name before. It has always been "My Lord" this, and "Sir" that, as if I am pompous and vain and needed that recognition."
Fingalas blushed. "It always seemed to me that was what you wanted," she said, "since you never once asked me not to speak to you that way. You always have been very formal with me. Do you realize that you have just spoken to me of marriage?"
"Between Elf and mortal, yes," he replied. "It is something that is not easily done. Permission to marry must be obtained, and may, perhaps, never be given. There have been only three unions of mortal and Elf in history: that of Beren and Lúthien, then of Tuor and Idril, and lastly, of course, of Aragorn and Arwen."
"Is this a subject that fascinates you, My Lord?" asked Fingalas.
"Oh, is it "My Lord" again, and not "Legolas"? He asked.
"Which would you prefer?" asked Fingalas. She could feel her heart flutter because he was teasing her.
"That depends," said Legolas, on whether or not you can say that you love me."
Fingalas' blush was profuse, spreading down to her chest. "I - I do not know how I should answer that," she stammered. Was he still teasing her?
"This is a time for being truthful," he said, his expression grave.
She felt her heart pounding now. Truthful? She would have to be truthful or this moment would pass, and she might lose him forever.
"Then," she said, meeting his gaze, "I shall have to say, yes. Not only yes, but that I have loved you for a very long time." 'There', she thought. 'I have said it.'
He sighed, and looked very serious. "I have been a fool not to notice it before," Legolas told her. "Do you still wish to accompany me to Minas Tirith? I have taken a chance in asking you to come with me. I wish to get to know you better, but it seems as if I am always traveling. I am asking you now to take a chance as well. I cannot yet say that I love you in return. I do not know you well enough, but I think that if we make this journey together, that I will get to know you, and something within me compels me to do that."
"Of course, yes, I will come with you, Legolas," she said. She melted into his arms. His face bore a gentle expression, but she could not fathom his thoughts. She did not care. Her arms wrapped themselves around his back. "So thin he is, yet he is strong," she thought, and closed her eyes. He bent his head and pressed his lips to hers. "His lips are soft," she thought, and returned his kiss with passion. His hands sought the fastenings of her dress. Hers found his clasps and buttons, his ties and laces, and undid them with the dexterity of one who is familiar with serving another.
They were both as in a fever now, panting and perspiring, clutching and stroking at each other's hair and flesh, their arms and legs moving in a frenzied tangle of limbs as they fell back together upon his bed. Afterward, she lay beside him and gazed at him, savouring the glorious sight of his form as if it might be the last time she would see him this way.
"Gods, but he is beautiful," she thought. "There is no one else in the world like him. I do not deserve him."
When they arrived in Minas Tirith, King Elessar and Queen Arwen welcomed them with much warmth. Legolas introduced Fingalas to his old friends, reminding them that she had lived in Minas Tirith in the past, and had worked in the Houses of Healing. After the two guests had been shown to their rooms, Aragorn came to see Legolas. He embraced the Elf in a gesture of friendship, and then sat down to have a talk with him.
"Legolas, I am somewhat surprised at you," he said. "The last time I saw you, I thought you were smitten with our little Elf-maiden, Lindaril, and now you seem to have thrown her over and taken up with a mortal woman who had left my household for yours years ago!"
Legolas sighed. "It is a long story, Aragorn. I have much to tell you, in fact."
"Tell me, what have you done with Lindaril? We all miss her singing very much around here," asked Aragorn. "Our dinners are not the same since she left us."
Legolas then told his friend about his long journey with Gimli, and how Lindaril had followed them into Rohan. He asked about the poor Rohan people that he and Gimli had sent to Minas Tirith, and he expressed concern especially for Elspeth and Enna. Aragorn did not know what had happened to the refugee men, but he said that he thought that Elspeth and Enna were still resting in the Houses of Healing. Legolas explained everything that had happened between himself and Lindaril, and how she had left for the Grey Havens, and had departed to the Undying Lands.
Aragorn was very concerned about Lindaril, and felt badly for Legolas. "I did not know that she was ill. In mind as well as body, it seems."
"That is not all," said the Elf. "The worst part of the story I have yet to tell you. A most wondrous chapter, but perhaps the most dangerous one."
He then went on to tell Aragorn about how he and Gimli had found the Silmaril, and the new race of root-people in Moria. Aragorn was astounded to hear about them. He was amazed that a new species of people had been discovered, and also that a Silmaril of Fëanor had been found. He knew the history of the Silmarils very well.
"I cannot believe my ears that you have found the Silmaril that Maedhros had cast away into the earth!" he exclaimed in wonder. "It will take a while for me to properly digest all of this news! How do you know that the root-people, as you call them, are trustworthy, and not an evil manifestation of Morgoth that will yet harm us in his absence?"
"No, no, rest assured, Aragorn, that they are trustworthy," said Legolas. "Their leader, Mene-mil, has traveled all the way from Moria to the Grey Havens with me and back again. I have come to know him well. I feel in my heart that he is sound. It is the Silmaril that worries me. I feel that it still carries Fëanor's curse of old, although nothing ill has yet befallen me. I have brought it here, as I had wished to seek your counsel on what is to be done with it."
"Of course, we will keep it deep in the vaults of the city," said Aragorn. "It will do no harm there, nor come to any."
"I do not know that there is any safe place on Middle-earth for this jewel," said Legolas. "It troubles me deeply, and I believe that there is only one answer for the problem of what to do with this thing."
"What is that, my friend?" asked Aragorn.
"I should sail to Valinor with it, myself," replied Legolas. "But if I do take it there, then I shall never be able to return to Middle-earth."
"Would you do that, Legolas, and leave behind the woman that you love?"
Legolas looked surprised. "Do you mean Fingalas? He asked. "I do not know that I love her," he said, "but I know that she loves me. It would perhaps have been better if I had left her alone, and not brought her here with me. Something came over me that night in the stables when I returned home and saw her there. At the time, I thought it would be fairer to her to let her acknowledge her feelings for me. I would hurt her very badly if I left her alone now. Yet I must make a decision. I must think long and hard about whether I should stay and make a life with her, or whether or not I should take the Silmaril and leave Middle-earth forever."