"It is time for us to return home, my Lord."
Lord Elrond looked up from his papers and frowned, "You are taking your leave of us so soon, Tauriel? The passes only opened up a few days ago. Travel might still be difficult."
"It would appear I have a Simaril to deliver to King Thranduil, and we shall see if it is enough for him to welcome me home," Tauriel told Lord Elrond. "We want the baby to be born in the Woodlands, as we were."
The Elf-lord put his quill into the stand and stood up, covering the distance between them in two long strides. "A baby is always joyous news," he told her, kissing her on the cheek. "You will make fine parents."
"We do not know when we will return to Rivendell, it may be many years. Tauriel and I talked about it, and we will not need the room you keep for us. Someone else may need it more, and if that is the case, we want you to make it available to them."
"I have many rooms in my home, and some are for guest, or as in your case, kept permanently for family. Your rooms will be your rooms until you pass into the Halls of Waiting or sail West." He gave them a stern look, "You should make an effort to visit. And should you need more than one room, we can move your little family to a cottage. It has been too long since Rivendell has echoed with the play of Eldar children."
"You are most kind, my Lord."
"As I said, you are family and always welcome in my home."
"Are you ready?" Legolas asked her, worry plain on his face.
Tauriel took a deep breath, and nodded, "We dare not linger at the gates for much longer or we will draw a crowd."
"The guards are keeping their distance, and leaving us in peace, so I assume the King knows we are coming by now."
Legolas and Tauriel passed through the gates into the Elvenking's Halls hand in hand.
When Tauriel's steps slowed to take it all in, after more than ten years away, Legolas smiled at her and gave her small hand a reassuring squeeze. They spoke of someday returning home from the earliest days of their reunion in Rivendell, but Thranduil was correct when he told Tauriel once she learned to enjoy freedom, rather than fear it, it would be difficult to go back to a life in the Woodland Realm.
They spent the last six years traveling to many of the cities of Men with the Rangers as long distance scouts. The onset of winter this year saw them happily tucked up in their rooms in Rivendell, but the longing for home was almost more than Tauriel could stand, and Legolas understood his wife's hunger for the Elvenking's Halls.
He reminded her of that fact whenever Tauriel would get irritable and sulky. Then, Legolas would throw her over his shoulder and carry her someplace under the stars, where they weren't likely to be stumbled upon, and make passionate love to her until she was too exhausted to worry over the events of the past or their uncertain future.
The old year died and the new year was born and discussions of returning became staunch resolve to do just that. When the first flowers dotted the patchy scrub plants, they said their goodbyes to Lord Elrond and his family and set out for the Elvenking's Halls.
They stopped at the base of King Thranduil's throne and knelt, patiently waiting for a sign Tauriel desperately needed. It was only now that panic set in, raising the speed of the beating of her heart and hastening her breath, causing Legolas to shoot a worried glance in her direction.
His hand claimed hers, again, and it helped.
"So, both my roaming doves have returned to the roost? And hand in hand, at that. It is an auspicious day, indeed."
They waited, heads bowed, holding their tongues until the King saw fit to address one or both of them directly.
Tauriel fretted and felt ill.
Why did Thranduil insist on dramatic displays of his superiority? Every Silvan elf was taught from the cradle they were not and could never be as beautiful or clever or sage as the High Elven Kings who ruled them and their descendants. Tauriel forced her breathing and heartbeat to slow, centering herself as she'd learned from Lady Galadriel in Lothlórien last summer.
It would do no good to get angry, or to show the King weakness, instead Tauriel made a mental a list of places they would travel this year if Thranduil refused to receive them, or at least, refused to see her and accept her as Legolas' wife. She was doing such a thorough job of her list, she didn't notice when the King stood and made his way down to them.
"Have you fallen asleep, Tauriel?" The deep rumbled of his voice in her ear startled her. Eyes widening, the wood-elf shook her head briskly. "No, my Lord. I was waiting, patiently. Practicing a meditation exercise..." She stumbled over the words, any hope of composure in the face of the King was lost. Damn him.
Thranduil nodded, turning his attention to his son, "And you, Legolas? Have you learned mediation as well, during your time away from my Halls?"
Legolas met his father's eyes. "I have not, my Lord. Sitting still suits me ill. I prefer moving and putting holes in things with arrows, to drawing flowers in my mind's eye. Though, I also find writing letters to be clearing for the soul."
Tauriel pursed her lips, because Legolas wrote her many letters during their years apart and she still had every one of them, save one. The one she'd ripped to bits and thrown at his fool head in a supreme show of temper when she'd finally come face to face with him in Lord Elrond's study after more than three years of being separated.
His words enraged her enough to make her pack her belongings from her rooms in the Royal Palace in Dale, kiss the children and the King and set off for Rivendell to shake some sense into him.
Thranduil noted the change in Tauriel's expression, with interest and curiosity. "Is there something you find amusing in my son's choice of 'soul clearing', Tauriel?"
Legolas answered for her. "Tauriel finds my letters tedious, my penmanship nearly illegible, and the last letter I wrote her came back from her own hand, rather than a carrier bird. Through it did remind me a bit of bird droppings as the scraps of it where falling over my head."
"Whatever could your future husband have written to get your ire up, Daughter of the Forest?"
Tauriel looked up and met the King's eyes for the first time. "Legolas wrote of his plans to join up, permanently, with the Rangers of the North."
The King's eyes widened, just slightly, betraying genuine surprise. "Really?"
"Yes, my Lord. And he very much meant to do it."
Legolas smirked. "My plans did not suit Tauriel."
Thranduil nodded. "No, I do not imagine they would. Nor would such a choice be one I would hasten to embrace for my son and heir, either."
"My choices are my own, my Lord. And I do not think you will care to embrace many of the ones I have made since leaving your Halls. You will always be my father, and my King, but my heart does not obey commands."
The steely resolve in his tone warmed Tauriel's heart.
"Come with me, then, both my wayward children, I see we have much to discuss. This is not the place, and Tauriel appears tired from the journey."
The pair stood, but Legolas stopped Tauriel from following obediently in the King's wake with a gentle hand on her arm. "No Lord or King will separate me from my wife, Ada. Either you accept Tauriel as my wife, here and now, or we have nothing at all to discuss."
Legolas' disrespect didn't escape anyone's notice, not even the guards. The soft hissing of their combined gasps was an indication.
The King turned and caught the look of horrified disbelief on Tauriel's face, before she managed to get her shock under control.
Her eyes were wild with anxiety and dread as he approached her, but instead of hurting her with words or a look, his expression softened, and he lifted her chin with his fingers and placed a tender kiss to her forehead. "Welcome home, daughter."
"It has been much more than five years, my Lord. I wasn't sure..." The rest of Tauriel's thought choked on a sob.
The King pulled the former Captain of his Guard into his arms and held her cheek to his chest as she wept, not a thought given to anything other than holding her, offering comfort, and easing her pain. "Whether you pledged yourself to my son or not, Tauriel, you have always been one of my children. Had you come to me at any time in the last ten years and truly wanted to come home, I would never have turned you away."
"Thank you, my Lord," Legolas whispered, voice hoarse with emotion.
Thranduil rolled his eyes, "May I suggest we move your exhausted wife to someplace where she can weep without half the Guard witnessing and spreading tales of her distress? It would appear we have a wedding feast to sort out and new sleeping arrangements to see to."
"Of course, my Lord." Legolas scooped Tauriel up into his arms and followed the King to his private chambers.
"I'm still a bit surprised the two of you wish to return to the nest. I have heard tales of your wanderings and adventures from many sources."
Tauriel frowned, "I do not believe returning to the nest is exactly what we have in mind, my Lord. What we want is a nest of our own, within the borders of the Woodland Realm. I have more than enough gold to start a small farm..."
The Wood-elf knew she'd said too much when the King pinned her with a hard, searching stare. "What aren't you telling me?"
Legolas met her eyes and they had a non-verbal conversation. Did they tell him, or wait? Would it make things easier to get it all in the open from the start? Tauriel shrugged and gave him a nod to let him know she was deferring to his will on the matter of his father.
"Tauriel is expecting a child... next Midwinter," Legolas told the King, and they both braced for an explosion.
Thranduil blinked, frowning as if it was a concept unfamiliar to him entirely, "A baby?"
"It is a bit of a surprise to have it happen so quickly, but we are happy about the news. Lady Galadriel said she has rarely seen an Eldar couple produce a baby as easily as we did. She believes we have the blessings of the Valar on our side."
"You came home to have your baby."
Tauriel nodded. "Yes. There was never any discussion of where we might raise the child. We were born here and the Woodlands are where we want our vinë born."
"No," Thranduil shook his head.
"We knew you might object to a half Silvan child, so we've made a list of other places where we can go..." Tauriel started, tearing up, again.
Legolas growled, "Father..."
"No grandson of mine is going to be born in a humble shack in the woods. Your child will be born in the Palace, of course."
It was the wrong thing to say to the emotionally wrung out, pregnant wood-elf and Tauriel glared up at the King, seething, "I will have my daughter where I choose, my Lord. If I decide to ride the river in a wine barrel to Esgaroth and give birth to this baby at the foot of Dain's throne in Erebor, I will. You shall have no say."
Legolas gaped at her, his expression telling her he was really hoping she wasn't serious.
King Thranduil's own face was a study in horror, and Tauriel knew she had won this battle even before he put his hands up defensively, yielding to her rage. "That will not be necessary. I assure you. You have made your point."
And just like that, the storm was over and Legolas burst into laughter. "Oh mercy, Tauriel. Erebor? That would never even make our list. As much as the King Under The Mountain adores you, I do not think he would wish to witness that. Nor would King Bard."
"I was tempted to say a Golden Wood would suffice nearly as well as a Greenwood for the birth of the Elvenking's half Silvan grandchild."
Thranduil paled. "I find myself more pained you think I would treat any child of yours as less than a miracle, than I am of the idea of Celeborn and Galadriel holding my grandchild before I do."
"Now that we are home, I think I need to do some research into fatherhood... I'm going to start by asking around it see if all pregnant Wood-elves are so feisty and prone to weeping," Legolas teased her.
"You will not. Or there will be consequences... like a cold, lonely bed."
The King found Legolas' wince amusing. "I see who rules this marriage."
"It is not as it appears on first inspection," Tauriel told the King. "We are equal partners. Things are just a bit out of balance because the baby is making me irritable and weepy. And I am very tired, as you noticed."