Chapter Forty-Seven

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SUMMARY: Thranduil encounters someone from his past. Will he enter the Halls of Mandos?

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There was water; he could hear the sound of water.

Thranduil slowly opened his eyes, and sat up on his elbows, to look around. He found himself lying in his favorite clearing, with the waterfall, and the small pool. He hadn't been here since Mírelen was murdered, but it looked exactly the same as the day he wedded her there.

Yet, this place wasn't quite the same… it was… more, somehow. The temperature here was warm, and the sun was shining, and the flowers were bigger and brighter. Each part of the forest and the clearing was saturated with color. It looked real, yet unreal, but it was so very beautiful. Over to his left, Thranduil saw his favorite tree, but it couldn't be! That tree was in another part of the forest, nearer to his Palace!

He heard splashing, and he looked toward the pool. There was something behind the waterfall, and he tried to see what it was that moved. The shape lowered itself into the water, and swam across the pool, and emerged from the other side. He saw a head with dark hair emerge from the water, on the side of the pool farthest from where Thranduil was lying. He sat up fully, and watched as the slim, naked figure stepped gracefully out of the water and onto the grass. He could tell from the curves of creamy skin, the slim waist, wider hips and the full, rounded bottom, that it was an Elleth, and he watched, as she picked up her linen towel on the grass to dry herself off, and smooth her long, dark hair. Her back was still facing him, as she pulled on a white robe, but once it was fastened, she stood up straight, and slowly turned to look at him…

It was his Mírelen.

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There she was, standing there, before him, and for the several long moments, Thranduil couldn't breathe, or even think.

He sat there, staring, then a sob escaped him, as she slowly walked toward him. He didn't believe it. This couldn't be true!

She stopped and smiled down at him.

"This isn't real," was all he could say, in a trembling voice. "You cannot be real..."

But when she opened her mouth, it was Mírelen's voice he heard. "Why do you think it is not real, Tond Âr Nîn?"

"How can this be?" He looked around. "It is winter, yet the sun is warm here, and the flowers bloom, the air is fresh and clean..."

"It is your favorite place, with the things you love most in your forest."

"Yes, but… you are here! Are you not in Valinor?"

Then he looked down at himself. He was dressed a white robe, identical to Mírelen's. Where were his clothes?

Thranduil was confused, but then a thought occurred to him. "Have you come to take me to the Halls of Mandos?"

She looked at him, and smiled, saying nothing.

She was so lovely. Her long, dark hair had somehow instantly dried into those long, thick waves that caressed her face the way he'd always remembered. Her eyes were the same velvet-brown pools he wanted to dive into, and never come up for air. She was every bit as beautiful as the day he first saw her in Elrond's garden.

She held out her hand, and he reached out to touch her, but he hesitated, then curled his fingers into a fist. He was afraid.

Mírelen seemed amused by his hesitation. "Come, Thranduil. Walk with me a little."

Thranduil got up from the ground stood by her side. "Where are we going?"

"Wherever you want to take us, Meleth nîn." For several minutes, they silently made their way through a path in the forest, and enjoyed the beams of light peeking through the bright green treetops.

Finally, Thranduil couldn't stand it anymore. "Why are you here? Why am I here?"

"You brought us here."

"Me? I do not understand." He looked at her, his head shaking.

She looked down with an amused smile, and didn't answer, as they continued to walk at a leisurely pace. "I like Bard very much, Thranduil."

"I didn't want him to die. I couldn't fail him, as I failed you."

"Do you really believe you failed me?"

"Yes! I did not save you, and I failed our son, who lost his Naneth."

"Oh, Meleth nîn; you never failed me. Never!" She looked up at him, shaking her head in sympathy. "Why do you say such terrible things?"

"Because I was too late. I was one moment too late, and you died in my arms! Do you not remember?"

"And you feel guilt for this."

He looked over at her, as she walked at his side. "I did. I do."

She stopped and held out her hand. "Please; take my hand. Do not be afraid."

He slowly raised his hand, and touched her palm lightly, then slowly intertwined their fingers. It felt so real, and so, so soft. Thranduil put his other hand over his mouth as a sob escape him; he couldn't help it. After almost a thousand years of longing for her touch, she was before him, and he was touching her! He was afraid to ask why, lest she disappear.

"Why do you feel at fault for my death?" She asked very gently. "Did you not want to save me?"

"Of course, I did! I wanted to - with everything in me!" He cried. "I would have given my own life a thousand times over, to save you... I was a just moment too late, and then you were gone, and I was alone…" At that last word, he sobbed a little, and covered his eyes. "I should have saved you…"

"Oh, my brave husband. Do you not see? You did not save me, because you could not. That is not failure!"

Tears were flowing down his face, and they felt cool on his cheeks. "But… I was so alone, Mírelen… I missed you so much…" He brought her hand up and kissed it. "I thought I would die from the pain of it, and no matter what I did, it wouldn't go away…" A tear fell on her hand, then another.

Mírelen squeezed his hand. "Thranduil, what happened to me was not your fault, and there is something else you need to know."

Thranduil's eyes widened. "I do not understand…"

"That Orc attack was carefully planned - it was not some random slaughter. They were sent by the Dark Lord in Dol Guldur, for a specific purpose."

"It was me they were after." Thranduil began.

"No Thranduil, you were not their target, any more than I was. They were sent to take Legolas from us."

"Legolas? He was just a child!"

"They wanted our son, and for a very good reason. A War is coming, Thranduil, and our son will be needed. Somehow, Sauron must have foreseen the deeds Legolas will accomplish. He knows our son cannot guarantee his defeat, but if Legolas does play his part, it will guarantee his victory." She looked at him intensely. "Do you understand?"

"But – "

"The Orcs that killed me, were sent from Dol Guldur, to steal our son. I have learned that he wanted our boy kept alive - I cannot contemplate what would have happened, had we not saved him. It was Legolas the Orc tried to grab off the horse; not me. I drew my knife and drove it into his arm, do you remember?"

Thranduil blinked at her a few times, and looked away, thinking of that unspeakable day. The image of that monster with its hand grabbing her hair, ready to slice her throat, had her jeweled-handled knife sticking out of its arm - she had driven it into the flesh, clear up to the hilt.

Thranduil hadn't noticed it then, but he could see it very clearly now.

"You… stabbed him…"

"Yes. To protect our son."

"I do not understand; how do you know this?" Thranduil looked wide-eyed at his Queen, still not quite believing it. "Sauron…"

"No one knew it was Sauron in Dol Guldur, Thranduil. Not even Mithrandir or Radagast. But he knew of Legolas, and wanted him, at all costs. We think that the Dark Lord wanted to turn Legolas into his thrall; to serve him, and use him against us."

Thranduil just stared at her, as struggled to grasp the horror of her words. "Did you know it, then?"

"Of course not. I just knew it was continually reaching for our son, and did what any mother would do." Mírelen put her hand on his cheek. "Search your heart, Meleth nîn. Can you not feel the truth of what I have told you?"

Thranduil looked into her eyes as he considered her words. "My foresight only warned me of the War..." But the more he thought, the more he understood. She was telling him the truth. "You saved him from a fate much worse than death."

"We saved him, Thranduil; you and I together." Mírelen then said, "When that evil creature attacked us, I had to make a choice, just as the young girl, Rhian, had to make a choice, the night the Dragon attacked. We both chose our child." She squeezed his hand. "I knew I was going to die; but I needed to stall for time, until you could come and save our son."

He let go of her hand, and stepped back, considering her words. "But why did you have to die? Could there not have been a way for you to live, while protecting our son?"

"Not all matters are for the Valar to decide, Thranduil, nor is it even Eru's. Creatures of Middle Earth act upon their own will. The Valar cannot author events as some would like to believe. We can only do our best, just as I did, and just as you did. You failed no one, Thranduil, especially me." She smiled beautifully up at him, full of gratitude and affection.

"But I wanted to save you!" He cried, his eyes swimming.

"And you did save me! Legolas is part of me, is he not?" She reached up and wiped the tears off his cheeks.

He was silent, trying to digest all of this. "If that is true, then I failed you, again." He told her sadly.

"Did you? Since my death, you doubled Legolas's guard."

"Well, yes. I was afraid I might lose him, too."

"And he never went with you on your Autumn Tour, is that correct?"

"For many years, I did not go myself. I knew everyone would want to tell me how sorry they were for our loss." He hung his head. "I could not bear it."

"You made sure Galion looked after him, did you not?"

"Galion would have done that, regardless. He loves Legolas."

"But, if he had not, would you have seen to it, that our child was given affection and attention?"

Thranduil sighed, "Mírelen, when you died, I turned my back on him. He has your face, and all I could see, was you, bleeding in my arms..." His lips trembled. "I did not know how to stop it."

"I know, my love. But I do not think that was the biggest reason why you could not be close to anyone."

"What does it matter?" Thranduil said, "He hates me."

"Does he hate you?" She asked patiently. "Are you certain of that?"

"I… He left..."

"Thranduil did you truly turn your back on him?"

He sighed. "I was… distant. I could not – "

"That is not the same thing, Meleth nîn. Your guilt is what caused the distance, Thranduil. You have allowed it too much power over your life, and you must let it go."

He knew she was right, and the realization only made him feel worse.

"Come," Mírelen gently led him to a spot where the light shone brightly through the treetops. Then she let go of his hand and stepped back. "Drink in the healing light of the sun, while you consider my words." Then she walked a short distance away, and waited.

Thranduil closed his eyes, raised his head and felt the warm sunshine on his face. It felt wonderful and began to fill him with light and energy. As he basked in the sun's healing warmth, he thought about Mírelen's words.

She was right. Thranduil had done his best to save his wife; he had no knowledge of the true mission of the Orcs that day, but now that he did, he truly saw the depth of Mírelen's sacrifice, and honored her for it.

It was guilt, and shame, that had caused him to avoid his son; it caused him to avoid almost everything. Legolas looked so much like his mother, and when he looked at his son, he saw only his failure and his shame, for not saving her. He had made his grief much worse than it had needed to be.

The realization of this pierced his heart, but only for a moment. To hang on to guilt and shame would only cause himself, and others around him, more hurt. This cycle needed to end, and it had to start with him.

If he wanted to truly find peace, especially with his son, he needed to let it go. He was so much better, thanks to all that had happened; he spent hours talking about things with Bard, and Galion and was in a place where he could see things clearly, and now he was ready to take that last, final step.

As he warmed himself in the light, at Mírelen's behest, it gave him the inner strength to finally let it go. It was the light that can take this from him, and he welcomed it. He stretched out his arms, and tilted his head back and allowed it to flow through him, to heal him.

He could see the bright light of the sun through his closed lids, and knew that it was truly healing the part of him he's struggled with for so long. Thranduil took a deep, deep breath, and as he let the air out slowly, that terrible, long-held darkness left him forever.

He put his arms down and opened his eyes, reveling in the peace he felt, and enjoyed the feel of the green grass below his feet. He looked down and saw he was surrounded by blue flowers – Mírelen's favorite color. He reached down and picked several, and went over to her, smiling, and put them in her hair, just like he used to when she was alive.

"You always looked best in this color. I still have the blue ribbon you wore in your hair the night Legolas was born." He told her.

"You do?" She smiled up at him.

"It is one of my prized possessions, Mírelen. You took my breath away then," He caressed her cheek. "You are every bit as beautiful now." He looked into the depths of her eyes and let himself get lost in them, just for a moment…

Mírelen put her hand on his wrist and leaned into his touch. "You were right, you know." She said, with yet another enigmatic smile.

Thranduil couldn't help but laugh. "About what?"

"About Tauriel. I would have loved her as my own. I love her now, because you do. The day you first held her in your arms, she needed you, but you needed her, much more. You are a good Adar to her, Thranduil."

He lowered his hand, looked down at the grass, in shame. "For almost all her life, I could not give Tauriel what she needed. I failed her, too."

"How have you failed your daughter, my love?"

"She loved Kili, the Dwarven Prince. I said terrible, terrible things to her, then he was killed, trying to save her..." He ran his hand over his face. "I should have treated her differently."

"You must let go of that, too, Thranduil." She caressed his cheek. Forgive yourself, Tond Âr Nîn; let go of this terrible guilt, because it weakens you. As with all mistakes, you must learn, change, and move on. You must, or you cannot be what she needs, now."

"She is bereft, and I do not know how to make her feel better."

"Tauriel hurts from the loss of the one she loved, but it will not always be so. Kili will live in her heart, and she will take comfort in his memory."

"She will?"

Mírelen nodded her head. "Kili has been joyously reunited with the family that has gone before him. He sits in the Halls of his Forebears where he loves her still." She smiled. "One day, Tauriel will tell her daughter of the Dwarf, and when she does, she will smile."

Thranduil grinned. "Tauriel will marry? And have children?"

"When the time is right, she will. I hope that brings you comfort."

"Who is her One?"

Again, his question was met with an enigmatic smile. "Tauriel will face many challenges, but in the end, all her dreams will be realized."

"What about Legolas? He is in such pain…"

She squeezed his hand, again. "Your book and drawings of me will help a great deal, but you must be patient, for he is much like his father, Meleth nîn. Legolas needs to face things in his own time, just as you do. You are wise not to push him, and do not be concerned for his happiness. Our son will also find his joy, when the time for him is right."

Thranduil sighed. "I want that for him, with all my heart."

"I know you do, my love. You have always felt things deeply; it is one of your finest qualities; I am glad you can see that, now."

"So much has changed, Mírelen. So many things have happened; I hardly know where to begin..."

Mírelen just laughed, as Thranduil closed his eyes again, and enjoyed the sunshine. He listened to the sound of her laughter, and let it fill his heart with love and light.

"This is such a perfect place. So beautiful, so peaceful." He turned to smile at her. "And you are here! I missed you for so many years, and now…" He shed a tear of joy.

"I am here." She caressed his cheek. "It is a joy to be with you, too."

Thranduil lifted his face to the sky again and took in the sweet air and listened to the song of the birds and the songs of the trees.

"You saved Bard."

He opened his eyes in surprise and gladness. "I did?"

"You did."

"They need him, Mírelen. I had to make the sacrifice, but I did not know if…"

Mírelen bent down to pick up a rabbit that had hopped into the clearing. "You saved him for his children and for Dale." As she stroked its fur, she added. "I am so proud of you, Meleth nîn."

Bard would live.

He could go on and be a wonderful father to his children, and be a good King to his people. Dale would continue, and the Northern Kingdoms would grow, in size and strength, and all the free peoples there would be safe.

They would be safe, because Bard was safe!

Most of all, Sigrid, Bain and Tilda would have their Da.

He had done it!

Thank you, Eru… Thank you...

Thranduil closed his eyes and spun around, arms out, laughing with joy and relief, as he let the sounds and smells of this beautiful place fill his senses, and renew his fëa.

"Bard's children will not lose him. That is what you wanted, was it not?" she asked, as she gently placed the rabbit on the ground and it hopped away.

"Yes!" Thranduil laughed. "If only one of us could live, it had to be Bard."

Mírelen went over to him, and put her hands on his chest. "You are so brave, Tond Âr Nîn. It is one of the things I love about you. Never would you hesitate to give your own life for ones you love." She smiled up at him with pride.

Thranduil had done just that, and he felt at peace with it. He had given his life for his people, for the North, and for his beloved husband. Their children would still have Bard, and he made the sacrifice out of his deep love for them, too.

Thranduil looked down at his Queen, with her sweet smile, and blue flowers in her hair. He gently lifted a lock of hair from her face, and looked into her eyes.

"I am ready." He told Mírelen. "I am ready to come with you, now."

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ELVEN TRANSLATIONS:

Tond Âr Nîn – My Tall King – Mírelen's pet name for her husband, when she was alive.

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NOTES:

The idea of kidnapping Elves, and turning them into spies for the Evil One has a precedent...

From The Silmarillion, Quenta Silmarillion, Ch 13, "Of the Return of the Noldor":

"Many of the Noldor and the Sindar they took captive...and made them thralls, forcing them to use their skill and their knowledge in the service of Morgoth. And Morgoth sent out his spies, and they were clad in false forms and deceit was in their speech; they made lying promises of reward, and with cunning words sought to arouse fear and jealousy among the peoples... But ever the Noldor feared most the treachery of those of their own kin, who had been thralls...for Morgoth used some of these for his evil purposes, and feigning to give them liberty sent them abroad, but their wills were chained to his, and they strayed only to come back to him again. Therefore if any of his captives escaped in truth, and returned to their own people, they had little welcome, and wandered alone outlawed and desperate."