Author note: Welcome to Spring (in the UK anyway)! I thought this was the perfect time to post this update - the blossom is out, there's colours and greenery everywhere, and it's high time Legs made his way back into the story.

Unfortunately my Word subscription has expired which means I'm using Pages - this makes zero difference to the writing except that I can't use the symbols anymore, so any accents over letters in names or place names have had to disappear, as they weren't worth the cost of a renewal, sorry! Fea is pronounced fay-uh.

Thank you for some lovely reviews since the last update, and hi to all new follows and favs. I appreciate sometimes this isn't the easiest story to follow due to the gaps between updates, I'm so grateful you're all sticking with it. x

Reminder: Elvish = one character doesn't fully understand what is being said. English = all characters are speaking either Westron or Elvish. I've stuck to Sindarin for this story, mostly, but there is the odd Quenya phrase when a grander, more archaic tone is needed.

Chapter Eight - The Elvenking

"Keren, are you coming?"

Haldir called to her in Sindarin. A month had passed since Galadriel's fateful news, and spring was in full sway. The old leaves had fallen, and new leaves of green and silver could be spotted amongst the golden blossom. Keren had truly never seen anything like it - every day in the forest was a most pleasant assault on the senses.

"I'm ready," she called down the steps curled around the tree. Haldir had planned an excursion to Cerin Amroth, a place of great beauty, and they had stopped overnight halfway on their journey. Keren had wanted to see more of the forest outside of the city, and Haldir had been only too happy to accompany her.

The elves of Lothlorien did not go in for horses much, which Keren was pleased about. Instead they had journeyed by foot. It was a long way, and now they were taking up their march once more. The sun had only just risen - Haldir wanted to reach the hilltop before sunset.

"Then you shall see all the land roundabout, a sea of trees with the City of Light to the south, and the Great River to the east," Haldir said over his shoulder.

Keren smiled at the thought, for she had been starting to feel a little enclosed beneath the trees, and was looking forward to seeing the outside world.

They stopped for a quick meal when the sun reached it's peak, but the days were still short, and Haldir pushed them on again. Keren was beginning to tire.

"Haldir, why the rush?" she said to his retreating back. "Cannot we rest another night and go tomorrow?"

Haldir stopped short suddenly and turned to face her.

"Keren, I'm so sorry. I am so used to having to travel at speed, and when we converse in Sindarin I often forget you are not an elf."

Keren rolled her eyes.

"Oh, please, I'm not that fluent," she said.

"Of course we can take a slower pace. Let us rest here then do a final march before nightfall." Haldir flung his pack on the grass and sprawled under a tree, patting the ground next to him. "Come on, sit down. By Elbereth, I am sorry!"

Keren flopped down beside him, exhaustion creeping up on her. Haldir couldn't help but let out a chuckle.

"Why didn't you say something earlier?"

Keren shrugged.

"I didn't want to be annoying. My normal pace must feel interminably slow to you."

Haldir smiled, and leant back and closed his eyes.

"Your mother and I did this trip more than once," he said. "For a few years, every spring, we would journey to see the flowers atop Amroth's hill. It touches my heart in a strange way, that although I can go there no longer with her, I can do so with her daughter."

Keren felt a question longing to be asked, one she had previously avoided but felt she could hold back no longer.

"Did you… did you and my mother…"

She looked up at him warily. His eyes were still closed, but his smile grew slightly smaller.

"Did you… well…"

"I loved your mother very much Keren, as I have said before," he said when she could not finish her sentence. "I sheltered her as she grew from girlhood to womanhood. I was almost as a father to her. I think when she was grown she longed for a different sort of love from me, but that was not something I could give her. She was my very dear friend, and it grieves me that I caused her pain by not being what she wanted."

"She was in love with you?"

Haldir opened his eyes, looking up at the tree canopy.

"I believe so, from before the time she first went away. When she came back, after your sister had been born, I knew it to be true, for she told me so. I was so far removed from her life in the world of Men, and it was I that knew her best in the whole world. But I could not truly make her happy - she had a husband, a life, in the Tower of the Guard by then, and I would not come between her and the man she had chosen there, the father of her child."

Keren sat up to face him, folding her legs beneath her. She could hardly believe what she was hearing. She had perhaps had an inkling, but this…

"But if she had not married, what then?"

"Then you would not have been born," he said, looking sideways at her, and Keren knew to stop asking questions.

She joined Haldir in looking up to the golden flowers and silver leaves, and felt her mind drifting. So her mother had also known a love that was not to be, perhaps as unlikely as her own. Whilst she had fallen for a man so far above her socially it was laughable, her mother had gone one further and loved an immortal elf.

She had not only been pining for her home, but for her lover, Keren realised. She felt a sharp, sudden pity for her father, and wondered if he had ever known. He had loved her mother so deeply, and she felt he still did. Had Orwen ever truly loved him in return? She had given him children, but were they the children she had wanted? Keren felt she had not known her mother at all.

Keren awoke to gentle singing. She must have dozed. Her head had fallen onto Haldir's shoulder. She decided to keep it there as he sang, wanting nothing more in that moment but to stay in Lorien forever. It was becoming home, she realised.

But then she thought of Palen, and strange Elunis's message that she would have a nephew to meet when she did return to Minas Tirith.

The tune was sad but beautiful, and she picked up enough of the words to learn that the song did not have a happy ending.

"Whom do you sing of?" she asked quietly, once the last notes had drifted away.

"He who lived atop the hill we journey to, that now bears his name. Amroth, King of Lorien, and his love for the Lady of the white glade. A tragic tale, and one with no end," said Haldir.

"How so?"

"They loved each other, but she refused to marry him, as she believed his people would bring war to her beloved Golden Wood, where she had lived time out of mind before his people came with knives and bows. He persuaded her to travel south to the havens, there to sail west to the Undying Lands together, but alas, they became separated. He drowned, and she was lost in the White Mountains. Perhaps she wanders there still, but more likely she is dead. A river here bears her name."

"So sad," she whispered.

"Nothing is left of his house atop the hill, but flowers still bloom there, and tall trees of mallorn and birch still stand. Come, let us walk a few miles further tonight, then we will have most of the day there tomorrow."

He stood up, stretching his long limbs, and held out a hand to help her up.

That night they rested atop a flet long-used by march-wardens on their patrols. The night was cool, and Keren slept beneath warm woven blankets whilst Haldir kept watch. When the sun rose they broke their fast and began their walk again, Haldir announcing that they were but a few hours from their destination.

After they had walked a mile, Haldir stopped suddenly, tensing, then relaxed and continued on his way.

"What's the matter?" Keren wondered.

"I heard someone on the path ahead, coming towards us, but it is just another elf," he said, turning and smiling. "Too many years I tracked these paths on my way to stalk goblins, or worse, on the borders of our land. But evil has receded from the forest, and it takes some getting used to."

Keren smiled in return. So long had the world been under the dominion of Sauron, it was hard to believe he had been vanquished and was truly gone forever. All life was adjusting to not being under the shadow.

They strolled along slowly, breathing in the scent of blossom. Gradually, much later than Haldir, Keren heard the sound of light footsteps approaching. A figure came from between the trees ahead. Once more, Haldir stopped in his tracks. Keren had had her eyes shut to feel the breeze for a brief while, looking, had she known it, just as her mother once had walking these paths behind Haldir. She almost walked into his back. She stopped herself just in time, peered around his elbow and saw -

"Legolas!"

Haldir watched in amusement as she sprinted past him, almost at elf-speed, up the grassy path towards Thranduil's son.

"You're here! Why are you here?! I can't believe you're here!" she shouted in Westron as she ran, totally forgetting that she had wanted to show off her new-found language skills whenever she saw her friend again.

Legolas had stopped dead upon seeing her, Haldir noticed, long before Keren had seen him. He also saw there was no smile from the Mirkwood elf towards his friend until long after there should have been. He wondered what had caused the prince to look so afraid.

Isengard - eight months ago

Legolas had stood a little aside from the fellowship as Gimli gave his farewell to the hobbits. He watched Keren, realisation dawning on her face that soon she must say goodbye herself.

"Will you help me with Arod?" he asked her quietly, holding out his hand. He was very careful to not behave in any way that could be misconstrued by others. He had been all too aware of eyes watching them for the entire journey. Only the Lady Galadriel knew, but Mithrandir certainly guessed, Gimli perhaps too. Keren remained unaware, he was sure of it, as did all the others. For her sake he must hide it from all as best he could.

She placed her small hand in his and together they walked to his horse. He needed no help of course, but he wished to have a small moment alone with her before they parted.

She was tearful, and he could see and hear her fear that they would not meet again. He knew for a certainty that they would, but there was something, many things, he had to do before that moment could come. And yet he could not tell her what or why, so to her it must seem like parting forever. When her tears spilled over he hugged her tightly. Pain hit him - her pain. He wondered how she could not feel their connection. Perhaps he was wrong, perhaps Galadriel was wrong. But he loved this human with all his being, so much that he wondered how it had taken him so long, and that he had not felt it at their first meeting. And yet he had felt… something, then. An interest. And she with him. But never would he have foreseen that it would lead to this. She was everything to him.

"Do you think I could forget you, and let you live your whole life without more of my confusing advice?" he said, her head on his chest, a perfect fit. "Nay, Keren, we will see each other again before either of our time here is at an end. This is not the last time I shall see your face, and most glad I am of that."

She looked up at him, and he tried to hide his emotions.

"But how can you be so sure?" she whispered up to him.

Because our bonding has begun, and I cannot be parted from you for long.

"Because I trust myself to follow my own advice - to not let you go now that I have found you."

And he kissed her brow, and wiped away her tears. He was perilously close to doing something he should not, when Gimli appeared, looking solemn. Legolas broke away from Keren, almost guiltily, and helped the dwarf into the saddle. He considered taking her hand once more, but instead he found himself placing a foot into the stirrup and mounting Arod alongside Gimli.

Feeling reckless, he smiled at her and repeated his earlier words.

"Farewell, Keren. May your paths be green."

The first time he had said this to her, beneath the oak tree at Cormallen, he had meant it as a nicety, a polite farewell. This time it held a very loaded meaning, for he wished himself on her path, so they could walk together. There was no way for her to know that now the green meant himself, Greenleaf.

"Wait, what does that mean?" She asked, looking up at him with a pained look on her face.

Without being able to help himself, he replied quickly.

"I have a feeling you will soon learn."

He pulled on the reins and turned Arod about quickly, kicking him into a gallop. The quicker this parting was the better, for if he lingered he would say something he should not, and perhaps cause both of them pain. He did not turn back to look at her, for he knew, he knew, that within a year they would meet again, somehow. He just did not know where yet, but he would find her, by any means. And then, he hoped, she would learn what he meant, and be glad.

The two friends travelled together for many months, with Gimli enjoying an extended stay at the wood-king's halls before journeying on alone to his homeland. Neither elf nor dwarf would admit that their long journey together was merely an excuse to delay their inevitable parting, and when the moment finally came both were adamant that the other would miss the other more.

Once Legolas had lost sight of his friend on his journey east, when he was many miles distant, the elf turned his face back towards home, and steeled himself to speak to his father. He was not afraid of him, nor did he think of him as a distant or uncaring parent, but there was something about him that made Legolas wary - there was a coldness, a selfishness in him that Legolas wished he could blame on his mother's death, but his father had been so for as long as Legolas could remember, long before she was taken from them.

His time in Mordor Legolas knew had greatly changed him - seven long years in fire and ash, burying his father, separated from his wife. It was upon his return that Legolas had been conceived. Legolas could, of course, not remember the many parties and celebrations that were held at his birth, first-born of the king, a prince, an heir. His earliest memory was of his father and mother riding either side of him as he trotted along on a tiny grey pony. He had learnt to ride before he could walk, or so it seemed to him in the dim memories of early childhood. He first realised his father could be cruel when he was very young. And yet Thranduil could also be generous, kindhearted, and fun. Sometimes a strange mood seemed to take him, and that was when he would go off alone into his hoards of treasure, and sit there, not sending for anyone, even his wife and son, for days at a time. Legolas had never been able to fathom why, but he accepted this melancholy as part of who his father was - it had never seemed to affect their bond as he was growing up. He had been close to both of his parents. When his mother was slain Legolas was full-grown, close to a thousand years old, and he expected his father to retreat into solitude more often, but things remained unchanged. Now Legolas felt a need to impress his father, even to shake him up a little - to show that some of his mother still lingered on in him, that he would not hide in caves, but seek out the starlight and the rays of the sun. That was why he had joined the fellowship, which he knew would be against his father's wishes. Thranduil could do little about it if he did not know until it was too late. He had hoped to use the same method in informing him of his meetings with Keren.

He studied his father's palace with fresh eyes. There was so much grey, so much green. Tree and stone, water and darkness. Greenleaf he had been named, a herald of hope and new life. For many years that had been what he had wished for his father, a hope rising in him that evil could indeed be vanquished forever, that perhaps he would one day choose to sail and leave his sadness, or whatever his strange obsession was, behind. But now he was beginning to feel that that hope was lost. His father would forever remain hidden in the forest. Legolas would never inherit the throne, not that that was a great concern of his. And he had supposed his father living in near-secrecy would not affect him overmuch. But then he had bonded with Keren, and he knew that a time of change would have to come. Thranduil did not care about any race beyond his people. Dwarves he barely tolerated, men were not interesting to him. Hobbits were a curiosity, nothing more, for he had only ever seen one. The fact that his son had bonded with a human… Legolas frowned, set his shoulders and went to see his father.

"So, this child, you cannot expect me to believe that you love her?"

It was going as badly as Legolas had expected.

"She is not a child, she is one-and-twenty."

"Oh, I apologise - she is an infant. Greenleaf, you are testing my patience with this jest."

Legolas took a step forward.

"'Tis no jest, father. She is very young by our reckoning, but by hers she is of the right age to marry. And I - "

"Marry? No, this conversation is at an end." Thranduil turned his back and waved his hand to dismiss his son.

"My good friend Aragorn was the same age as she when he met the Evenstar," Legolas said calmly to the back of Thranduil's head, and watched as that registered. "Would you call him a child? Would you call her a fool?"

"A fool thrice over!" Thranduil almost shouted, turning back. "What has their bonding brought her? Misery, heartbreak, death! Do not think I am so alone here that I do not hear the news that is abroad. She has wedded him and thrown away her immortality. She will birth naught but half-breeds, and soon he will die and she will be left with what? Ages alone upon the earth. Is that the fate you wish for? You would throw your life away for this human child?"

"I have been called to sail west, father, and I shall when the time comes," Legolas said simply. "But I know in my heart I shall wed Keren and she shall be my wife before that time is at hand."

"You do not know it, you wish it," his father sneered. "But how and why you wish it is a mystery I cannot comprehend. I have heard of such things but for you to, you claim, fall in love with a mortal… It cannot be."

"Why?" Legolas demanded, his voice raised. "Would she not be good enough? Is that it? Because she is human? Father, need I remind you that the race of men are in fact the superior beings here - their time is now, the elves are fading into the West, we shall be but a memory upon these shores. What you foresee for the Evenstar shall be your fate also if you do not answer the summons."

"This is not about my fate," Thranduil snapped. "Nor about a human not being good enough. This is about your life, your happiness, you understand? You are and always will be a new hope for me and your mother. Your mother… If she was alive…"

"She would be happy I had finally found someone I care for, and who will care for me."

Thranduil was not able to answer straight away.

"She would not want to see you mourning the death of someone who would be with you for less than a hundred years," he said eventually.

"Not even if the years before Keren's death would bring me the most joy I have ever felt?"

His father was again silent. He paced around silently, slowly, and Legolas could see the effort it was taking him to get his thoughts in order.

"Why this girl, then?" Thranduil did not look at him, but studied his feet pacing the floor. "What is so wonderful about her, this Keren? The beauty of a thousand maidens? The wit of a hundred fools?"

"She is…" Legolas did not know where to start. "She is honest, and good, and pure. Brave, but she does not see it. Wise in her own way, and quick to listen and learn. She laughs and smiles merrily, and hums when she is happy. She does not like horses. She loves our people, and knows much of us. She is light on her feet, but sometimes heavy in her heart, for she has known much sorrow, and her work as a healer is hard."

"A healer?" Thranduil for a moment seemed genuinely surprised.

"A skilled one." Legolas did not want to stop speaking of her now he had started. He was painting a picture of her in his mind. "She has long brown hair, dark, dark eyes, and only comes up to my chest." He smiled. "We met under a willow tree."

Thranduil scoffed.

"And don't tell me, you loved her then, at first sight?"

"No, you are wrong," Legolas replied with some satisfaction. "I was drawn to her, yes, but out of curiosity, for I felt the power of a great gemstone about her, of Elvish make. I have yet to discover the heart of her tale, but I know when the time is right she will tell me."

"Keeping secrets from you is an excellent sign," Thranduil said dryly.

"We met once more," Legolas went on, ignoring his father's remark, "and again we spoke at length, but there was no love, just an interest in her and her life. And I saw her a few times after that, with other folk. But then I…"

Thranduil frowned, for it was not like his son to be speechless.

"Go on."

"The third time I saw her alone, that is when it happened."

"What happened?"

"I felt myself bond with her. It was as if a veil had been lifted from across my eyes, and I saw her for what she truly was."

"Which was?"

"As wise and fair as the noblest queen, like a handmaid of Elbereth. I knew then that the Lady of the Stars had orchestrated our meeting. The Lady Galadriel somehow knows."

"Galadriel?" Thranduil questioned sharply.

"She assured me that what I feel is real," Legolas said, "and that in time Keren will be able to feel our bond, but for now it will remain hidden from her, until she is more at ease, happier, within herself."

"And where is she now?"

Legolas hesitated.

"I cannot know for certain," he admitted.

"Oh, this just gets better," Thranduil had to allow a chuckle to escape. "You have lost her, the woman you love, you have been so careless as to misplace her."

"I believe her to be in the Golden Wood. That was where she was travelling to when we parted. I know not whether her plans changed after I left her. She was close to the hobbits, so perhaps she travelled further north to their home. But my heart tells me she is with the Lord and Lady."

"Your heart tells you?" His father raised an eyebrow.

"As your heart told you that my mother had died," Legolas dared to say, and watched as his father's face became expressionless.

"If you are just saying that, boy…" Thranduil began, rage bubbling under the surface.

"I mean everything I say, father," Legolas said. "Believe me, I had more doubts than you that this day would ever come for me, but I stand here before you, and I ask you, as my father and my King, if you will help me choose a betrothal ring for my future wife? I love her, but it is more than that - I have bonded, and there is nothing I can do to change things, even though for the both of us it means a short time together."

"And a never-ending time of mourning for you after her death," Thranduil added.

"That too."

There was silence between the pair for a short time. Thranduil filled it by slowly pacing towards his throne, carved of beech and elder, adorned with berries, holly and thorn. Legolas knew his father had chosen that spot to assert authority.

"She must obey our customs, to the letter," Thranduil dictated. "Before the marriage takes place she will do as I ask of her, to prove herself worthy of the son of the King of the Elves… of the Wood of Green Leaves," he finished belatedly. There was only one King of all elves, as they both knew, and he had sailed West in the earliest days of the world, and never returned. But it is easy to forget him sometimes, far across the sea. Particularly if you are proud, and had been ruling your own small kingdom for tens of thousands of years.

Legolas could not argue with his father's request, for that had been the way of elves, especially ones with fathers that are hard to please, for time out of mind. He was sure that nothing dangerous would be asked of Keren. Perhaps a feat of healing? He could prepare her for that. Besides, if she did not pass Thranduil's test, or choose to meet the challenge, he had every intention of leaving the woodland realm and wedding her anyway.

"What these requests shall be I shall spend much time thinking on, and let you know in due course," the Elvenking continued. "I shall of course want to meet her, but again, I shall let you know when that meeting shall take place. For now…" And here he paused, as if steeling himself to deny his son what he desired, but ultimately failing. "For now, if you truly mean all you say, if you understand the sacrifice, the grief, this human will give you, let us descend to the caverns and select a ring. If you truly have bonded, you will know which one to choose."

Legolas almost allowed his face to show his deliriously happy shock, but disguised it as a small smile of gratitude.

"And a ring for myself father?" he added.

"No, Greenleaf," Thranduil replied. "She must find her own to give to you, one fit for a Prince among elf-kind. I am sure, if she is truly your bond-mate, she will have no trouble in recognising it."

Legolas did not like the doubtful tone in his father's voice as he led the way to the treasure caverns below.

The next day, without Legolas's knowledge, Thranduil ordered three of his fastest riders to journey to Lothlorien without delay. Unbeknownst to his son, an invitation had been extended to the King and his family to attend a meeting and feast. Thranduil did wonder what the Lord and Lady had to impart, and instructed his messengers to listen closely to what was said - but his main concern was discovering if his son was right, and the girl-child was indeed in Lorien. There was, of course, no chance of him crossing his borders himself. He did not see himself ever leaving his kingdom now, apart from his final journey West, should that time ever come.

A month later, when the riders returned, they brought interesting tidings concerning the Lady's desire to sail West. But of more interest to him, and to his son waiting impatiently behind him, was the news that a human girl matching Keren's description was present. Thranduil raised a grudging eyebrow, let out a deep breath and turned slightly to face Legolas.

"It appears you were right."

Legolas immediately turned on his heel.

"I'm going to her - no companions, just myself and Arod. I wish you well, father, and I shall see you when I return - with Keren."

Legolas had a fortnight of hard riding ahead of him. He did not stop overmuch for food or rest, not especially needing either overmuch, but he must allow Arod time to sleep and feed. He was alone with nothing but pounding hooves and the rush of cold wind as they galloped on, and his thoughts. He dwelt on his father's decision to test Keren in some way, and worried exactly what form this trial would take. Surely he would not wish her harm, an innocent? His father could be cruel, but not when he thought it was needless. He became downhearted at the realisation that his father may just be right - what if this was all some horrible mistake, and Keren felt nothing for him. And if she did… What would their future together be? Ultimately a tragedy. He began to feel afraid for what he was asking of her, and of himself. If he saw her and she still had not recognised their bond, that would hurt him deeply. Was he willing to take that risk?

He was still having that thought as, sixteen moons later, he walked alone through the woods of Lothlorien, heading south to Caras Galadhon. He was leading Arod by the reins, walking not too briskly, for in Lorien there was never any call to rush. Now he was here he knew he was on the path to Keren, and they would meet again when the time was right.

He heard her before he saw her, accompanied by the tread of a male elf. The pair rounded the bend in the path ahead, and there she was, slightly hidden behind his old friend Haldir. She had not noticed him yet, for she was walking with her eyes closed.

That is new, he thought, marvelling at how trusting and… at home, she was.

She almost stumbled into Haldir when he stopped suddenly, and then her eyes met his, and she was running down the path towards him. She had bonded with him, he was sure of it, it was written across her face and singing from her fea, and yet… she still did not know it.

He heard his father's voice in his head.

Or perhaps you are just arrogant enough to believe she loves you.

He found he could not return her smile until she was almost upon him. She, in her glee and running full pelt, had not noticed, but he felt Haldir's eyes upon them, and knew he would have to explain everything to him, not too far in the future.

She was babbling in Westron as she ran towards him, then threw her arms around him. He had naturally opened his arms to envelop her against his chest. They stood close in silence for a long while, so long that Haldir found himself examining a mossy tree stump avidly and spotting ten different kinds of insects living on it.

It was Keren who was first to speak.

"Na vedui! Gwannas lu and," she whispered into his chest.

"Man… man ebenthig?" Legolas looked down at her, a gentle finger under her chin bringing her head up to meet his steady gaze.

"You know what I said," she replied, still in Sindarin. "Haldir, Rumil and Orophin have been giving me lessons, every day. They have shown me the Golden Wood in every season, and taught me many things, some songs and poetry, their customs. I've been living as one of your people, and I couldn't be happier. My paths here have been green indeed," she finished with a smile.

Author note: *Heart explodes with happiness that they're reunited*. Please keep up the reviews and let me know your thoughts.