Keeper Chapter 26

It's a long chapter, get pumped!

I know I am super late in replying, but I've been so swamped at school. Fingers crossed this semester slows down a little….

-XXX-

I'm at the gates almost an hour before dawn. I don't know when Legolas is arriving, simply that I want to be there. He's an early riser, and if they at all matched my pace, they ought to be here sometime this morning. I want to be ready.

My heart is in my throat, pounding. Almost two-hundred-and-fifty years have passed since I've seen my son in the flesh. I cannot even imagine what he looks like, how he has changed, and what he might say. Will he be short with me? Angry? Or just as relived as I am to be reunited?

The guards eye me from the corners of their vision. No doubt they wonder why the peculiar Queen Caladhiel is up so early, not to mention wandering the grounds, lingering near the gates. I just smile at them, unable to contain the joy brought on by this nervous anticipation. As the sun begins to peek over the horizon of the valley, my energy climbs with it, warming in the pink-gold rays of the on-coming day.

It is nearly eight when they enter the valley. I can hear the sound of hooves, mail moving, creaking, then of low voices, and finally one distinct oice above the others. "Legolas."

Without a thought I shoot past the gates, darting down the path, cloak flying behind me, holding my skirts aloft. I meet the party just before the bridge as they round the final corner. They slow upon the sight of me, cautious. Then, abruptly, one ride breaks free of the others, sliding from his horse, flinging himself forward until he reaches me. And in a heartbeat I find myself swept into the arms of a tall blonde elf who is laughing as he holds me to his chest.

Once I am set down and given a chance to look upon my son, I immediately burst into tears. "Legolas," I weep, stroking his face, pushing back a few stray platinum locks. "Oh, my Legolas."

Our moment is interrupted, however, by the approach of the rest of the party.

"We'll leave you to it, my prince," one guardsman says dryly as they pass. "I shall inform Lord Elrond's people that we've arrived. Though, it's likely they've already heard."

Legolas scowls. "Move on. I'll summon you later."

"Yes, my prince."

Alone, we simply stand together in the middle of the road, like fools. But we are so happy.

"How I have missed you," I whisper. "My Legolas."

"I have missed you too, Mother," he says, kissing my hands, then my brow.

"Come, I am sure you're tired and hungry. I can take you to the kitchens, then your rooms, though I cannot wait to talk with you –"

"I am afraid we must have to wait," Legolas says as we set off for the palace. "Talking may have to come first. I have something to tell you, Mother."

I frown. "That sounds rather ominous. We'll go to the river, we shan't be disturbed there."

On the bank, there are several massive willows. My favorite shades a bench, which we claim together. My hands fold within his as I wait for him to find the words.

"Lord Elrond received word that we were attacked, did he not?" my son asks seriously.

I meet his bright eyes (so like his father's, yet so much warmer) fully, confused. "Yes, only a few weeks ago. It said that you were attacked, but everyone was fine. I cannot tell you how relieved I was to find you and your father were safe."

"Except, that is not what the message said." His eyes are bright with a sad desperation, trying to make me understand.

"What are you saying, my love?"

He takes a breath. "We weren't safe. Father was struck down. He's been bedridden for weeks."

I freeze, unable to comprehend what he's trying to tell me. Thranduil…hurt?

"What do you mean?" I whisper. "What happened?"

"He was leading a unit and was hit in the stomach by an arrow. He insisted, after he couldn't fight anymore, to be taken to the central command station. But he couldn't take it. The arrow…it was poisoned." Legolas hesitated. "I've seen him, Mother. His real face. I know about the dragonfire and Dagorlad."

I inhale. "He never wanted you to know. He didn't think…."

"I know." He squeezes my hand. "But he's wrong. I think you're both incredible for living through that."

"Why did he not go straight to Fortesbrawn?"

"We were being attacked. Risking taking him back home would've potentially killed him faster. Luckily we made it in time. Though, he's been in bed for weeks. He cannot summon enough power to maintain an illusion for longer than perhaps a minute. Between the poison, the wound, and the infection, he's been greatly weaken."

"We did not know any of this," I say mournfully.

Legolas's eyes glint dangerously. "No. Rather, I think you were not told of my father's illness."

It takes a moment, but his meaning dawns on me. "Elrond did not tell me. He knew?"

"I read the letter myself, before Father sent it." Legolas sneers. "It seems Lord Elrond did not see fit to tell you your husband was on the brink of death."

"No…no, he would not!" I sit down, hard, staring at the river, unable to comprehend. "Elrond would not. He wouldn't, he is my friend, he –" But I think back to last week, when he'd refused to let me leave the valley. If he knew of Thranduil's condition, why would he have kept me back?

Legolas takes up my hands. "Mother. I don't know why he did not tell you of Father's injury. Only that he clearly did not."

"Nor did he allow me to leave," I say quietly. "After the letter, I wanted so badly to go to you both, my people and my family, but Elrond refused to send me with an escort. He said it was too dangerous."

"He was probably right," my son admits. "To go alone would be terribly dangerous. To allow you to go by yourself would be murder. Still, he had no just cause to keep Father's illness from you."

Tears stream down my face. "I would've simply gone, had I known. Gone, without even thinking twice. Oh, Legolas, I have been a fool to stay away so long. But each year passed, and I thought – I feared – neither of you would take me back. It seemed better, easier upon us all for me to stay away."

"I have been so angry with you," he says softly. "But had you come home, I would have forgiven you and embraced you without a second thought."

"Can you forgive me now, Legolas? I've been a fool. Nothing terrifies a person more than distance from their own family, yet I did nothing to prevent it. Until your father, I had no family anymore – my mother had died and my father left, heartbroken, for the Undying Lands. Oh, he did not want to leave me, but he couldn't be happy in Arda anymore without my mother. Everything reminded him of her. So he left me, and I had no one save for the Birchbarks. Then I married your father and we both had families again. I don't know how I forgot the pain of being without, but clearly I did – had I thought, for one minute, about how terrible a time it was when I was without my parents, I would have realized what I was putting your through."

He wipes away my tears. With sore red eyes I blink up at him.

"Of course, Mother. Of course."

I strain up to kiss his cheek. It cannot be a comfortable kiss, what with my tears. But he accepts it easily.

"Come. I think we're both weary now. Let us go fetch some breakfast. Then I want to see Lord Elrond and figure out why he's denying the Queen of the Greenwood an escort back to her realm." The stern set of his lips is endearing, despite the seriousness. He's no boy – then again, he hasn't been one for some time.

As we walk back to the palace, hand-in-hand, I declare abruptly, "I'm going back. As soon as possible."

"We shall go together, Mother," he says eagerly. "After this council, we shall go home."

I smile, leaning in to put my head on his shoulder. "Home."

-XXX-

She looks somehow older to him. While their kind hardly ages, there is something distinctively aged about his mother. Still, so many things about her are the same – her smile, her scent, the tender way she touches him. Legolas knows he has misses his mother, but seeing her is the only thing to prove how much –

He would weep from frustration and happiness. At least now, now she knows. It was all merely some terrible mistake.

"She should have come back anyways, regardless," a snide little voice in the back of his head murmurs. "She ought not to have left in the first place."

But he cannot allow his previous anger to claim him. "That is in the past," he reasons with himself. "We shall make all right now."

"What goes through your mind, nín ion?"

He glances up at her abruptly, a smile crossing his features instantly. "Tis nothing, Mother."

Her lips purse playfully. "A mother always knows, Legolas."

He kisses her brow again, tucking her hands into his. "I think of only the coming council."

She doesn't believe him – but she lets it pass.

-XXX-

"Estel!" Legolas cries. I look up from the slim tome of poetry I've been reading to see our Estel – dark, brooding, and handsome – lingering at the arched threshold to the courtyard. He looks bone-tired, with the sweat and grime of travel still fresh upon him.

I rise quickly, following suit with my son to greet the man. Legolas and Aragon clasp forearms, smiling at one another. A few quick words, then I am permitted to embrace him.

"Careful, Aunt Cala. I am hardly fit for touching."

"It matters not to me." I stand back to better look at him, noting the Evenstar nestled in the hollow of his throat. "What brings you here?"

In a few short words, he tells us of his journey with the halfings. When I hear the name "Baggins," I am struck.

"Bilbo's nephew?" I exclaim in disbelief. "Frodo? Why ever he here?"

Estel looks uncomfortable. "I cannot say. I was merely asked to retrieve them."

He and Legolas share a look. An unspoken acknowledgement passes between them. Though I knew them to be friends – something Legolas has written about a time or two – I did not realize their bond was so very deep. I open my mouth, about to ask what, exactly, they are not sharing, but I am interrupted by the appearance of Arwen. Quietly, she stands in the threshold, observing us with an impassive expression. Surprised, I gesture for her to join us.

"Arwen, my love, where have you been? We could not find you this morning."

She did not answer, but drifts into the courtyard. Her eyes are fixed on Estel. "Frodo lives," she says very quietly. "My father has drawn the shadows from him. But he will sleep for sometime. Until then, the council is delayed."

"Thank you." Estel nods, but his gaze never leaves hers. Again, I look at the Evenstar on his neck.

"Cousin," Legolas begins. "Are you well? What is that cut upon your face?"

Her hand flies up to her cheek. "Oh. I did not –"

It will heal in no time, I am sure. I go to her, taking her hands in my own. "You left this morning, did you not?"

She avoids my eyes. "Father already knows. He was not pleased."

I do not inquire further. Turning to the group, I smile lightly. "I shall let you catch up. I know it has been long since Legolas has seen his cousin and friend. Someone ought to sit with Bilbo. No doubt he will take the comfort."

I leave the group of young people to themselves, noting at I leave the uncomfortable silence that falls among them.

Bilbo is in remarkably good spirits. He, like me, does not quite understand what is going on – though, he knows remarkably less, I think, for he does not worry nearly as much as I. Then again, it could merely be his nature to be less troubled. But I rather suspect he is generally unaware of the dangers that circle the land.

His nephew, a tiny dark-haired hobbit, looks even smaller in the bed, where he lies, pale with dark circles beneath his eyes. "What is so special about you, little halfling?"'

His friend, a chubby, fair hobbit by the name of Sam, can scarcely speak, merely hold his friend's hand, tears silently streaming down his cheeks.

Elrond checks on him once during my time with Bilbo. The air is awkward between us. Ever since Legolas confronted him yesterday, we've not seen each other. Unable to talk with the hobbits in our presence, we simply nod measuredly at one another.

He is accompanied by a familiar person. Gandalf smiles at me warmly, though it is a weary smile. The old wizard greets me warmly. I've only seen him a handful of times since he brought the party of dwarves to Rivendell. He does not look a day older than the first time I met him, nearly an age ago – before Dagorlad, before Legolas, when I was a mere beekeeper, settled in a cottage at the edge of the forest now known as Mirkwood.

"Gandalf!" Bilbo cries. They chatter for a bit before the wizard turns to me.

"How do you fare, Erlea, daughter of Elurín?"

I laugh. "Long has it been since I heard the name my mother gave me. Indeed, none have spoken it since you visited me in my humble cottage. I am well enough, sir."

He peers at me with those strangely bright eyes, as though he can see right through me.

"Indeed," he says delicately.

"Has Elrond offered you and your party any dinner? You must be exhausted. Come, I shall show you Rivendell's kitchens. Bilbo, would you care to join us?"

He hesitates. "No, no, my lady. But Sam ought to go. You've not left his side all day, lad," he says kindly to young Sam. "Go, eat, rest. He'll be here when you awake."

Sam clearly does not wish to go, but joins us anyway. We're met by another pair of hobbits, which, from their babble, I learn are called "Merry" and "Pip." The rambunctious little fellows scramble after us, try, it seems, to cheer up Sam. Gandalf merrily hums as we walk, listening to his hobbits without contributing to the conversation.

"The council will meet tomorrow," he tells me once we've sat down to dinner. "Will you be joining them?"

"I think not," I say. "I do not fully understand the troubles at hand. Besides, Legolas is here representing our kingdom. I am fully confident he will speak for us well."

"I am sure he will," the wizard agrees. "He is a model elf. A good prince, from all that I have heard, and a fine leader for your people."

I smile softly. "I should like to think so. "

-XXX-

Legolas comes to me after the council meeting. He has a new energy about him, but his expression is apprehensive. I rise to meet him.

"What was decided?"

"We are to go against Sauron with the dwarves, men of Gondor, and the elves of Rivendell, Lorien, and Greenwood. He has a weakness. We wish to exploit it."

I am alert. "What weakness?"

My son hesitates. "There is a ring…a ring of power. We seek to destroy it."

I've heard of such rings. Some of the other nobles of our race possess them. Thranduil was a little offended, I know, that he was not offered such a ring.

"You say 'we,'" I observe slowly. "But I believe that it is not simply in reference to a collective decision. Legolas, what do you mean?"

His eyes close tightly shut. "Frodo Baggins volunteered take on the task of destroying the ring. It's been decided that a party must accompany Mr. Baggins to Mordor to destroy it in the fires of Mount Doom. The Fellowship, a collection of us who have offered to accompany him. I am among them."

Surprised, I pause. I turn away, moving to the bench-in-the-window, thinking. "You volunteered?"

He follows me, sinking onto the floor before me. "Yes," he admits quietly. "I did. Estel made the offer first and I – I cannot let him go alone. Not with a cause so noble – are you angry with me?"

Tears have risen to my eyes, but I smile through them. "No," I whisper. "No, of course not. Not ever. What you have done – Oh, Legolas, I've never been more proud. And I do not doubt your father would be just as honored to call you his son."

His face breaks out into a huge smile, and he sweeps me up into an eager embrace.

"Thank you, Mother," he says, head against my breast. "I will return to you, I'll make you even more proud of me. We'll destroy the ring, defeat Sauron, and Arda will be at peace once more."

"I have no doubt of it."

-XXX-

The next morning I am at the gates again, waiting for my son and the others of the Fellowship to ride out. While Legolas examines his horse, I introduce myself to Gimili, the fire-bearded dwarf gives me a suspicious look when I observe how like his father he is. Boromir is equally distant, but the hobbits are friendly. Bilbo is occupying them, however, giving them odd bits of advice on how to go "adventuring." Gandalf stands nearby, smoking from his long pipe, eyes flickering between all in the party. I wonder what he sees that we do not.

Apart from the rest of the group, shadowed by a nook overtaken by vines, I can see Estel and Arwen standing together, hands folded, speaking quietly. Arwen goes to stroke the Evenstar, her hand drifting down to rest again Estel's chest. Estel speaks in Elvish. He reaches up to remove the Evenstar, offering it forward. Arwen, shocked, steps away. She shakes her head, opening her mouth to speak. "Why are you saying these things?"

I look away, knowing that I am intruding on a private moment between lovers.

Legolas approaches. "When shall you leave, Mother?"

"Tomorrow," I say. "I still have several matters to take care of, and I do not wish to leave Arwen so soon."

"My men will be ready."

It has been decided that the group that journeyed with him to Rivendell will be escorting me back to Greenwood. I am very nervous. Thranduil is not to know that I am coming – even if we were to send a messenger or falcon now, there is no guarantee it will arrive before I do. I do not want to give him a chance to refuse me, anyways.

"Do be safe," I whisper as I rise on tiptoe to hug my son. "Come back to me in one piece, my love."

"I shall, Mother," he assures me. "One piece, or not at all."

I hit his shoulder. "One piece, nothing less."

He smiles. "Say hello to Father for me."

"I shall. If he'll receive me."

"Don't think like that," my son scolds.

I sigh, putting my head on his chest once more. "I look forward to the day when we shall be together as a family again. I hope we do not have to wait long."

"It will be soon. I know it."

"Any length of time feels like an age after over two hundred years." I stroke his cheek. "Stay safe. I love you."

He kisses my brow. "You stay safe too, Mother." From his belt, he retrieves my dagger, the one I carry with me nearly always. Unsheathing it, he shows me a new feature – a small engraving of a stag's antler against a maple leaf. Our crest. "Do not hesitate in using it."

"I shan't."

With that, we part. Arwen joins me at the gate. I watch them cross the bridge, moving along the path, until I cannot see them anymore.

-XXX-

Images of his parents' faces linger in Legolas's mind long after Rivendell fades into the distance. He cannot shake the sight of his ada's sunken features and his emel's weary eyes. "May they look far better when I return…."

Perhaps the reunion shall do them both well. He can only hope.

"May I have the chance to see them again. I will see this Fellowship through and return to them, whole and hale. Oh may I, dear Valar…." He prays.

He nearly slips on a rock as he prays silently. Just in time, he steadies himself. All in the party missed it, but Legolas twists his lips a fraction of an inch in frustration.
"Focus," he scolds himself. The dwarf behind him is rumbling through some speech about the quality of stonework in Rivendell. The elf nods vaguely, surprised by the interest the dwarf has taken in elven craftsmanship. In a few minutes, he feel back in the moment, returned to focus. Swallowing, he lets all lingering thoughts of his parents slip back to the deeper parts of his preoccupied mind.

-XXX-

The next day finds me in the stables, tightening my saddle against my horse's belly. The chestnut-colored mare is patient with me, sensing, I think, that it has been a while since I've ridden, and I'm feeling some trepidation. The handful of guardsmen of Greenwood are going through similar motions. We intend to ride at dawn.

For the first time in decades I am in breeches and a tunic, heavy boots upon my feet, a riding cloak flaring out behind me. It feels foreign, yet comforting, to be dressed so casually.

I am interrupted from strapping on my saddle bag by a small noise. Like a light cry. I turn to find Arwen and Elrond behind me, both in very casual morning dress, as though they've just woken up. Arwen fusses with her robe, pulling it tighter around herself, avoiding my eyes. Elrond looks very apprehensive.

"Are you all ready?" he asks quietly.

"Yes. I think so."

An awkward silence briefly ensues.

"If you leave us today, you shall not see us again until you pass into the Undying Lands." It almost sounds like a threat.

"And for that I am sorry," I say softly. "For I love you both. "

At this, Arwen bursts into silent tears. I go to her, and she clings to me, wetting my neck and chest with tears as I rest my chin upon her head, stroking her back. Elrond, too, looks as though he is about to cry.

"You have become a part of this family," he says brokenly. "I did not know, taking you in, what would become of us, but you've found a way into all of our hearts. You are a sister to me, Caladhiel. And a mother to my children. We cannot imagine our lives without you."

I find that I too, am weeping. "If I could have you all – my family of Rivendell and Greenwood – together, I would never wish to leave. But I must return. I should've long before now. Know, though, that this pains me too. You are just as much a part of my family as I am yours. To know that this is our last meeting – " My voice breaks. I cannot go on.

Elrond joins our embrace. After several moments, we all step back, wiping our eyes on the hems of our shirts.

"I will write, when I reach Greenwood. Once all of this is over, I want to see you before you set sail."

"I will do everything I can to make that happen, Cala."

A few more words pass between us. Arwen takes my whispered advice to hold on for Estel with a quiet nod, touching the bare spot of her throat where the Evenstar once sat. And Elrond accepts a kiss upon the cheek.

Before stepping away, he hands me a small drawstring bag. Within it sits a small silver ring – a more delicate version of the own he wears – and a gold-and-ivory folding frame set, which folds out to reveal small portraits of himself and his children. From a pocket inside his robes, he reveals a matching frame set which contains pictures of myself, Estel, and Celebrian.

"So that you do not forget our faces," he says softly. "I had them commissioned a few months ago. I sensed you would not be with us much longer."

I press a hand to my mouth, then step up to hug him again. "Thank you," I whisper. "For everything."

When the sun creeps into the valley, we mount our horses. Standing on the veranda overlooking all of Rivendell, Elrond and Arwen watch us pass through the gates, ride over the bridge, and disappear into the morning.

-XXX-

Well, they're finally headed in right direction. It only took a few chapters….

Reviews would be so lovely! It's been a rough few weeks, I could use the pick me up!