Chapter 4: Imladris
As Legolas stood on the hills surrounding the valley, with the sun setting behind him, he could see the Last Homely House below him. As he watched, small, glowing lights began to appear in its windows, giving it a glow in the twilight. He smiled broadly. He felt as though he could reach out and touch Imladris, his second home. He gently spurred the white horse onwards, feeling the calm of Imladris wash over him. It was a familiar, soothing feeling, especially after his home had changed so much, transformed from a place of prosperity to a forest of fear.
But he was almost there. Legolas let his eyes wander over the distant shape of Imladris one more time, then turned his attention back to the descent. The sooner he arrived, the better.
As he rode down the hills, the memory of a thousand visits guiding his way, Legolas could hear the sounds of streams and people down below. The air grew warmer and thicker, carrying with it the scent of pine-cones. By the time Legolas' horse stepped onto the glade, the stars were appearing in the sky.
Elves were scattered around the glade, and several raised their hands in greeting to him. Even though the house was out of sight now, Legolas felt closer to it than ever. Sweet scents and faint strains of music hung on the air, and as Legolas dismounted and led his horse to the bridge, the feeling of cheer and homeliness only grew stronger.
The bridge was deserted, but as was usual, lanterns hung on either end of it. Legolas led his horse across the narrow bridge, then, as he stepped off it, turned and looked at the Last Homely House.
Now lights burned in every window and doorway, and their golden light spilled out onto the gardens and courtyards. The white walls seemed to gleam, and the power and peace of the valley was so strong it was almost tangible. Legolas felt as though he could never step out of this place again—Imladris had cast its spell on him once more, as it always did.
Night had fallen completely, but Legolas could clearly see the four figures waiting for him: Elladan and Elrohir, rushing towards him; Lord Elrond, standing in the doorway, smiling; a young, dark-haired boy, a human dressed in elvish garb, watching him keenly. His gaze had a strange power in it, as though he could see more than others would. Legolas knew who this was—the future king.
Then Elladan was next to him. "It has been too long, elfling," he said, smirking.
"I am not an elfling, Elladan," Legolas informed him, but he grinned back and embraced 'Dan.
"He is right," Elrohir said, also embracing him. In his slightly softer tone, he added, "What could have kept you so busy that you could not even visit?"
"Orcs and spiders," Legolas said cheerily, trying to keep the mood light. "They are much better company than the two of you are."
There was a second of silence, then 'Ro grinned once more. "Well, then, if we are such poor company, come meet Adar and Estel."
"Perhaps you will find them more interesting," Elladan added, "Though I highly doubt it."
A few steps away from lord Elrond, Legolas bowed, hand over his heart. "Mae govannen, hîr nîn," he said.
"Mae govannen, Legolas. How have you been?"
"Quite well, thank you." Legolas waited as Lord Elrond looked at him with a healer's eyes, and silently thanked the Valar that this journey had been uneventful. He had been under Lord Elrond's care many, many times, and he knew how much Lord Elrond disapproved of Legolas' ability to land himself in injurious situations.
Lord Elrond smiled, seemingly satisfied. "Unharmed, then, for once. I take it you remember Estel?"
"Indeed." One could hardly forget the person who would rule Gondor and Arnor. He bowed once more. "Mae govannen, Elrondion."
Estel and Lord Elrond both smiled at the term of address. Estel bowed as well. "Mae govannen, Prince Legolas," he said.
Prince? It had been a long time since anyone in Lord Elrond's household had referred to him with formal terms of address. "I am not a Prince inside Imladris," he said quickly. It would only be strange to be called that way, especially by this boy.
Estel smiled again. "All right." Legolas noticed that his voice was at that strange stage, halfway between child and adult. How old would he be? Fourteen years of age? Fifteen? Not yet quite an adult, then, by human standards, but he did not seem like a boy.
"Legolas," Lord Elrond said, calling his attention. "Let us go inside. There is much to speak about."
Legolas nodded, and as he turned to follow Lord Elrond, he caught Estel's eyes once more. Once more, the boy–young man–smiled. It was a genuine, but almost hesitant smile, and Legolas found himself wondering how much Estel knew of his heritage. They fell into step, and Legolas decided that it did not matter just yet.
He was here, and he would be staying yet. He was in Imladris, and he was at home.