Title: Until We Reach Valinor

Chapter 17: Love, Sacrifice, and White Lies

NOTE: This story is sequel to "A Teacher's Duty" and you'll have to read that one first to understand this. Also, this story does not contain slash, and it is not a romance, despite what the first chapter might suggest.

SPECIAL THANKS to Cassie for her wonderful beta-reading job! While she didn't actually finish beta-reading it, I read it myself and spotted a lot of the typos she mentioned in her e-mail. Since she's 'off the radar' again, I decided not to wait any longer and go ahead and post this since it's already been a long gap. Oh and thanks to Kellen for helping me to name Alannna 'Alanna.'

….

The coronation seemed fairly anticlimactic after one of the most eventful royal weddings Greenwood had ever witnessed. It was a small, private affair (everyone wished to avoid the stares and gossip after the previous day's scene) with only enough witnesses to fulfill the law's requirements. Legolas and Alanna were both so preoccupied adjusting to the idea of being married that they could barely find it in themselves to be overwhelmed by the ceremony.

It was only afterwards that the full meaning of being King and Queen finally caught up with them. As was required by custom, each, with circlets in their hair, climbed up to the highest balcony in the palace to greet the- their people. The palace grounds were packed with citizens, their applause so deafening, so enthusiastic, that they were barely able to hear Thranduil, who looked strange without his circlet, give his speech over the noise.

Neither Legolas nor Alanna registered a word of what was being said; they were both to busy taking in the sheer numbers. All at once, Legolas was able to completely empathize with Aragorn's initial reluctance to claim the throne of Gondor. This responsibility, the terrible duty of protecting and serving and ruling all of these people was more than a little overwhelming. Dazedly, he registered the last part of his father's speech, marveling at how he could have missed it.

"…and suffice it to say that it has been an honor to lead you for all these long years, and you have made me proud to be your ruler. But now it is time to begin anew, and bless this country with new rulers who will lead you through this glorious new Age. Without further ado, I give you, Their Majesties Legolas and Alanna, the new King and Queen of Greenwood!"

Trumpets, the clear ringing of silver bells, and tumultuous applause rang through the air until the echoes reverberated among the trees. Thranduil discretely stepped back, and with full eyes watched his son and daughter-in-law parade the balcony hand in hand. Legolas was tall and regal, his steps measured and his face impervious as stone. Alanna was visibly awed and nervous, her plain, ordinary features contrasting sharply with Legolas's handsome ones, so much so that she looked completely out of place beside him in spite of the crown atop her head.

No one seemed to even notice her; they were far too preoccupied with Legolas, who cut an impressive and charismatic figure with his chiseled features and hair gleaming golden in the afternoon sunlight. Dearly loved by his people as he was, the joy at Legolas's crowning could not have been more genuine or exuberant. Thranduil smiled tremulously, watching with the fierce paternal pride as Legolas, every inch his father's son, raised a hand in acknowledgement and blessing.

Alanna gestured nervously in a failed attempt to mimic her partner, but everyone was so enamored by Legolas that they barely noticed her. It was something for which she felt extremely thankful. She felt like an imposter in her crown and ceremonial garments, and it did not help in the least that said crown was so precariously balanced on her head that she was in constant fear of it falling off. She was thankful that she'd be able to change this for a lighter, more comfortable circlet after all the fanfare was over What with trying to balance the crown on her head and trying not to trip in a spectacularly Alanna gesture, she was more than eager for the ceremony to be over.

She could not help but envy Legolas; he seemed to fit so easily into this role. He was a born King, with his regal stature and unruffled countenance. I've never seen this side of him before…It reminded her how little she truly knew him. He knew her quite well, she was very sure of it. After all, she wore her heart on her sleeve; he'd have been an unperceptive idiot if he did not know her. But she did not know him at all. He was always so impassive, his face so blank and mask-like, his emotions so tightly guarded. She remembered the previous night, when he had surprised her by suddenly laughing out aloud. It was the first time she had ever heard him laugh; it was really amazing.

She laughed so frequently; in fact, some would even say too much, and in comparison, he was far too serious for his own good, she decided. Yet she had very little to complain about, she knew. She could not have found anyone better to suit her conditions if she had looked for a million years. He was always surprising her with his integrity and honor, like he'd done last night, for example, when he had shocked her by his vehement defense of her. She had done so little to deserve such a good husband, and she felt oddly guilty that her heart belonged to another. She could not in a million years see Rilian defending her in a similar situation.

She shook the thought off guiltily, just as the object of her reflections interrupted her thoughts. "Alanna?" She realized with a start that he'd been trying to get her attention for some time, and she'd been to preoccupied to notice.

"Sorry," She muttered, blushing slightly at her habitual inattentiveness, and took his proffered arm, allowing her to lead her back into the palace. She marveled at his reflexes when he steadied her almost before she tripped over the red carpet. But thoughts of him soon faded away as the day dissolved into festivities as it was time for another celebratory feast.

…

It was nearing twilight that evening when Legolas found himself alone with his father for the first time since his wedding. Both were acutely aware that it would probably be their last chance to speak in private, as Thranduil was due to leave the next morning, and between preparations for yet another feast the next morning and the ongoing celebrations from his coronation, they would barely get a moment with each other before it was time to say goodbye.

They sat on a pair of chairs in a secluded corner of the hall, listening to the snatches of music and laughter that drifted to their ears from the scattered groups of the guests. Most of the Elves had retired already, and it was only his closest acquaintances that remained. Everyone present had either drunk themselves into unconsciousness, or was in the process of doing so. Which was not altogether surprising, Legolas thought, when the crowd consisted of individuals like Gimli son of Gloin and Eomer King of Rohan.

"How are you feeling?" Thranduil asked cautiously, after minutes of companionable silence had slipped by.

"Honestly?" Legolas asked, and when his father nodded, "Overwhelmed, exhausted and completely fed up. I feel how Alanna looks."

"Ah, yes," Thranduil said with a wry smile, "I remember my own coronation. It is indeed quite overwhelming, especially when you're wondering what in all of arda you've gotten yourself into, agreeing to your father's crazy demands." Legolas smiled dryly, not denying the words. "Especially when you've gone and made a lifelong enemy of the most powerful person in Greenwood one day prior to ascending the throne," Thranduil added, very pointedly.

Legolas wry amusement faded, and he sighed heavily. He had known this would come up eventually; he'd been dreading it all day. "What would you have had me do, father?" He asked resignedly, "I could not very well have let someone strike my wife without intervening."

"No, you could not have," Thranduil conceded, "But you did not sound as though you were defending her just out of duty, or obligation. Your fury seemed genuine and extremely heartfelt."

Legolas hesitated, not sure how to respond to such a loaded sentence. "So what if it was?" He asked warily.

"Your fury, Legolas," Thranduil said, "You would not have been so violently angry had no feelings for Alanna."

Legolas froze in shock, quite unable to respond to such a, in his opinion, ludicrous conclusion. His expression was completely misread by Thranduil who used it to seal his convictions. "You love her," He stated calmly, "Don't you dare deny it. Don't insult me by lying to me just before I leave."

"I…" Legolas began, but his heartfelt denial was completely arrested by the expression on his father's face, which was alive with joy and relief. He realized with a shock that Thranduil had hated compelling him to marry a complete stranger, hated that he would be the one to force a loveless marriage upon his child when he himself had lived through the experience.

His father had been put in the impossible position of choosing between the happiness of his two children, and he had chosen Ivana. And rightly so, given everything she had sacrificed; but that would not prevent the former King from being plagued with guilt about his son's fate, especially since he did not, could not know that marriage only bound them until they sailed. He would be burdened by the notion that he'd doomed his son to a loveless marriage for all eternity.

Unless… he told his father he loved Alanna. What? Are you crazy?! Did he not just tell you not to lie to him?

It's a white lie, said another part of his mind which refused to be cowed, you will spare both your father and sister the guilt of knowing that their happiness was bought from your sacrifice. The same guilt you yourself have lived with since you discovered Ivana's sacrifice for you. Say yes; and nothing will mar their happiness. But say yes, his more selfish side reminded him, and the last words you share with your father before he leaves will be blatant falsehoods. Insults. He silenced that part of him quickly, berating himself for not being able to make such a small sacrifice without feeling so torn. He could not do anything else, in good conscience, but say:

"Yes, I do love her."

"Oh, Legolas, I knew it!" Thranduil exclaimed, clapping him joyfully on the shoulder. "You liked her the moment you saw her, didn't you?" He said, knowingly, "You've been visiting her much more often than once or twice a week. You snuck out without my noticing. Didn't you?"

"Yes," He said, profoundly aware that he'd uttered another falsehood. They're white lies, He reminded himself, for ada's happiness. For Ivana's happiness.

Thranduil looked at him, and he worried that his father would see through him, but he did not, merely reproaching his son for not telling him sooner, "I was so guilty to think I had bought my happiness at the cost of yours," He said, "As happy as I am to give up the burden of ruling this country, to make a new life with my family in Valinor, I would have been plagued by guilt that my happiness bought at the cost of yours. Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I was embarrassed that I'd fallen in love after declaring so often to you that I never, ever would," Legolas said, averting his eyes from his father's, as he was hit by the harsh realization of how little his father truly knew him.

The thought stole his breath, and he found himself furiously blinking back tears. Thranduil should have known him better, should have been able to see through his lie for what it was. Even his students, whom he'd known for barely six months, knew him well enough to know that he would never give attachments so lightly. If it had been in his destiny to fall in love (and he didn't believe it was), it would certainly never happened in a month. His friendship with Aragorn had taken years to build, and had only been cemented during the War of the Ring and their shared hardships. How could his father believe that he'd fallen in love in one month?! He again pushed the thoughts from his mind, knowing they were futile and uncharitable; instead focusing on what Thranduil was saying.

"…I must say it really is amazing that someone who felt that they were never destined to love anyone could fall in love in one month!" Thranduil laughed gleefully.

"This is exactly why I had no desire to tell you," Legolas muttered in reply, still refusing to meet his father's eyes. Luckily, Thranduil did not notice this, merely grinned indulgently and lapsed into silence. He heaved a sigh of relief, wanting more than anything to get off this topic and be left alone to gather his tumultuous thoughts.

"I may not have told you," Thranduil's voice jerked him out of his reflections some minutes later, "Or shown you enough, how much I care about you." Legolas turned slowly to face him, his heart clenching as he noted that his father's eyes were glistening. "But I still want you to know, if I ever gave you reason to doubt"- He swallowed thickly at that – "Melethon le, Legolas."

I love you. Legolas's breath caught at the words. Never before had he heard those words spoken to him. It wasn't as though he lacked in friends, but his obvious dislike for verbal expressions of affection had taught most of them to avoid sentimentality when they were around them. But sentimental as they may have been, the wordstouched a chord deep inside his heart, quite suppressing his instinctive reaction of awkward discomfort, and allowing him for the first time to speak what was in his heart without any hesitation.

"Melethon le, adar," He said softly, his sadness that his father did not know him evaporating suddenly. "And…" His voice shook slightly on the words, "You never gave me any reason to doubt."

Thranduil smiled tremulously and with a shaky breath, he encased his son in a tight embrace. Legolas returned the hug fiercely, never wanting to let go, luxuriating in the feeling of safety and warmth and love in his father's arms which he would never feel again. Or so he thought.

The warmth and the love still lingered around him when his father rose, placed a hand on his head in tender blessing, and walked away without a backward to rejoin the guests. It lingered when he himself rose to rejoin his wife, who was talking animatedly to Arwen and Aragorn. The warmth soothed him later that night, when he lay awake straining to hear the almost inaudible scraping and shuffling from the room above him as his father prepared to depart before he was due to leave, probably so he could avoid the traditional royal escort to Valinor. And he realized with a rush of the sweetest joy he had ever known that he had been wrong. The warmth of his father's love would never fade; his until the end of time, there whenever he needed to recall it.

…

TBC…

Sorry it's been so long, I've been busy with studying and my applications. I promise once my A2 exams get done in November, I will start updating regularly. I have a six month holiday after that, and I plan to get this done before I go to University because I don't know if I'll have access to the net when I do go. Please be a bit patient until then! Hope you enjoyed the chapter.