Their positions stayed the same for some time – Legolas remained kneeling on the floor beside Anié, who had calmed down now and was just clinging onto Legolas for comfort; Thranduil and Maeglin stood on opposite sides of the room, each a little way away from the couple, heads bent and silent. Movement or speech became difficult and awkward. Each of them became aware that they had all now shared their greatest secrets and so surely (or perhaps 'hopefully' would be a better word) they must now have reached the end of the tunnel and would therefore be either able to escape or allowed to leave.

As though each of them were silently called at the same moment, they all looked up and saw a piece of parchment lying on the stone. They each looked at each other, wondering who would move first to pick it up, as it had obviously been mysteriously placed there for them. Thranduil cared not what it said – he was not in the mood for games, he just wanted to leave; Anié was still in a state and Legolas was comforting her, so Maeglin stepped forward, tenderly picked up the parchment and read aloud its content:

Now you have seen, now you heard

Terrible events that though they occurred

Long ago in the past,

Their effects still last

To weaken your character, spoil your trust…

Never do such secrets lie long in the dust.

Your men disappeared and to find them, you came,

Though they are not here, you sought not in vain;

Open your eyes

For after the lies,

There are those who will learn and those who will not

And the latter are always left outside to rot.

My last word is simple, my last word is brief,

So I bid you to listen through your anger and grief:

Go love and forgive, but don't ever let

This day be a day that you'll ever forget.

They all pondered these words in their hearts carefully, but no-one knew exactly what they meant. Then, as if a brush of wind had swept past them in the same direction, they all noticed that behind them was a door through which they could undoubtedly leave. Silently, like children who had been scolded and whose heads were bent with sorrow, shock and shame, they slowly stood up and one by one, walked through the doorway and left the Tunnel. After the last person had walked out, the door shut firmly behind them and not one of them looked back.

They came out in the middle of the forest. It was just before noon, the sun was high in the sky and it took a moment for Thranduil to get his bearings and find the right direction to go back to the Palace. Once outside, their mentalities snapped back to reality and they realised they were still no closer to finding the whereabouts of their missing comrades. The parchment said they had 'searched not in vain' – had they gone through the tunnel too? But where were they now?

"It wanted us to learn from what we had done" pondered Anié out-loud.

"Maybe they didn't learn or didn't accept what they had done, and then…weren't allowed to leave?"

Her thoughts ran dry and she moved back into silent thought.

Maeglin too had been silently thinking, until suddenly something caught his eye high up in one of the trees; he looked up and stared at what he saw.

"There are those who will learn and those who will not, and the latter are always left outside to rot" he recited again, his head titled up and his eyes not moving.

"What are you talking about, Maeg…"

Legolas' voice trailed off as he followed Maeglin's line of vision and saw, hanging from a sturdy branch in one of the trees, was the body of Idhrenion, the harsh rope reddening the skin around his snapped neck. Anié gasped and gave a small shriek as her hand clapped over her mouth; Thranduil simply glared at it, his face emotionless. For a moment, each of them were transfixed on the dangling body and its meaning.

"He couldn't leave with it" said Legolas.

"He couldn't bear to be seen as disloyal" agreed Anié.

In that moment it dawned on them – how many of their other comrades and soldiers had passed through that same tunnel and could not bear to face reality on the other side?

With no sympathy in his heart for the suicide of his personal guard who only a few hours ago he would have considered to have been the most loyal and dedicated soldier he had ever known, Thranduil was the first to leave; he swiftly turned on his heels and walked away – he wanted to go home, deep down he felt too angry and hurt to care, the words 'left out to rot' seeming most appropriate as Thranduil had no intention of giving him any kind of burial. Sorry for the tragic end of Idhrenion but sharing the same desire to return home as Thranduil, the others soon followed him.

It was much later that day when they finally arrived back at the Palace. The journey back had been dreadful, as Legolas and Anié were still not speaking to Maeglin, Thranduil wasn't speaking to anyone, no-one wanted to speak and the overall atmosphere was very sombre and depressing. Upon their return, the people were baffled that their missing soldiers had not been found and returned after the group had been gone for so long, and even more so that none of the group told them anything about what had happened, but spoke to no-one and each went off to be alone in their own rooms. The simple truth was that no-one really knew quite how to react to what they had seen – there was a wide variation of emotions, ranging from anger to sorrow and regret to lack of trust, but all wrapped up in a bubble of confusion and a lack of knowing what they could learn from all this.

Later that evening, Legolas nervously followed a messenger that had informed him that Thranduil desired to see him. Anié had offered to go with him for support, but Legolas said it was probably best if he went alone – he had no idea what state he would find his father, though he guessed angry.

Legolas expected to be led to his father's chambers, but instead he was led to the Great Hall. The guards who stood vigilant outside its doors had been ordered not to let anyone else in except Legolas, Legolas bravely stepped inside and the mighty doors closed firmly and remained guarded – no-one was the enter the Hall or overhear the conversation that followed; the Great Hall was immense and the doors thick, so even one standing with one's ear pressed to the door would not have been able to hear the words spoken by the soft Elven voices of Thranduil and Legolas, not unless their voices were significantly raised.

The Great Hall had become darker as the sun sunk into the West and the only light source in the room was a large golden fire, which was burning and crackling loudly, and the occasional candle flickering silently on the wall. With the fire before him and his back to the Prince, like a dark lone shadow, stood the still and silent body of Thranduil, his eyes never leaving the flames and a goblet of wine in his right hand. As Legolas entered the Hall and nervously approached his father (though he did not get too close), Thranduil did not turn his head – he knew who it was.

Before Legolas took the opportunity to speak, Thranduil broke the silence, his voice low and deadly serious, placing emphasis on every word he said:

"I do not want you to speak – until I have said what I wish to say".

Legolas understood perfectly and was dreading inside what Thranduil was about to say, but on the contrary Thranduil opened his heart to his son for the first time:

"In the last two days I have been forced to once again witness the death of both my wife and my son".

Legolas wanted to express his condolences to his grieving father and show him sympathy, but fearing his wrath he obeyed his command and said nothing.

"However, since such events, I have seen that neither of them were exactly who I thought they were; now I know that I had an unfaithful wife and a son that was not my own…"

He paused and though he showed no sign of emotion, Legolas both imagined and feared that inevitable sorrow had caused a lump in his throat.

"…I no longer know what to think" he finished. He certainly had no intention of dishonouring the dead any more so than they already had been.

He continued: "It seems that everyone around me is traitorous and willing to betray me – I know not where the blame lies and the dagger sinks deeper when even my own son does not grant me his trust. I would ask you now if you trust me, as you have changed since the death of your brother, but I do not wish to know".

Now Legolas was truly fighting with himself not to speak, he was so desperate to prove his father wrong and speak from his heart. But still, not going against his father's wishes, he remained silent.

"I cannot forgive you for what you have done, nor will I ever forgive any of those who betrayed me when my back was turned…but you are still my son and you are the only family I have left now".

There Thranduil finished.

"Now you may speak" he said quietly, "or you may go, both are fine with me".

A long silence followed as Legolas stood deep in thought, woods falling dead on his tongue. Only now did he see just how hurt Thranduil was by all of this, he must feel like he had no-one left by his side at all.

He began speaking very cautiously, but soon words flowed from his heart:

"Ada, I do not know what to say, these last two days have been so – so shocking and surreal. Nothing I can do or say can change or heal the past".

"I speak truthfully when I say that I am sorry about Mother – not only because I was partly responsible, but also because my reaction was…I forgot I was not the only one hurt and upset by what we saw. And I can and will never be sorry enough for Eleyond's death – that image and memory will haunt me for the rest of my life, but you must know that I dared not tell you the truth out of childish fear, never a lack of trust".

Legolas pondered over his next words. Thranduil remained silent.

"I also speak the truth when I say that I could not have asked for a better or a more admirable father – to have carried on after everything you've been through, to have fought, to have maintained your kingdom in such treacherous times and to continue to do so…"

"Enough" interjected Thranduil bluntly.

Legolas stopped instantly and silence reigned once again. What was interesting between the two men, standing alone in the spacious hall, was that although neither one of them spoke (principally because neither knew what to say next), both of them had bravely opened their hearts to one another in a way that neither of them would do normally, which although they were both hurting and they both suffered from past traumas, lack of trust and betrayals showed profound emotions that they could never verbally express – Thranduil's deep love for his only son and Legolas' humbling respect for his royal father.

Before leaving (as Legolas could not imagine what else his father would have him do), Legolas took one final brave step to show his father of his unbending love and loyalty – he walked slowly forwards and placed his hand on his father's strong, solid shoulder.

"Thank you, Father. Unless you have any further need of me, I will bid you goodnight".

For one horrible moment, Legolas thought he had felt his father flinch at his touch, but Thranduil remained silent and motionless as he had done throughout their entire meeting, only raising his arm to take a sip of wine from his goblet. After a few seconds of silent thought, Thranduil uttered in a deep voice laden with sorrow (and who knows what other emotions that a man such as he would never dare show):

"You may go".

Legolas bowed a little behind his father and walked away towards the large doors, but not before tightening his grip on his father's shoulder ever so slightly before finally letting go – it appeared that all possible words had been said. There was no compromise between the two - there was no exaggeration or lie when Thranduil had sworn not to forgive his son for his dreadful (though accidental) action and Legolas knew that many of the wounds that had been reopened would take some time to close if ever they were to heal, but as the open doors allowed Legolas to leave the Hall that was once again silent save for the constant crackling of the fire and he walked back to his chambers, he wondered to himself where they would all go from here, what would change and what they would learn from all of us, because as they had all been warned, none of them would ever forget.