Chapter Sixteen
Thranduil handed Legolas up the steps to kneel at Aradess' open burial mound. He leaned heavily on his cane as he watched his son bow forward to press his forehead to his mother's. If there were tears they were silent now—exhausted after Legolas' desperate pleas in the sanctuary and only replenished after two days of rest and recuperation. Thranduil could only imagine what sorrow Legolas had endured alone when he first discovered what had happened, with neither familiar voices to offer comfort nor the protection of his family's embrace.
Thranduil laid a hand over his heart, checking that this new break from his guilt would not be the one that destroyed him, not when he had come this far. The thousand pieces scattered in his breast fluttered unevenly and Thranduil had to lean harder on his cane, like an ancient mortal man feeling every single one of his five thousand years.
Legolas finally sat up, his loose gold hair settling down his back, worn without ornament or binding as Aradess preferred herself. His fine clothes were borrowed, black upon black. He had nothing else to show remembrance of his mother, none of the clothes she favoured on him or jewels she had given him. There would opportunity for that memorial when they returned to Mirkwood, when they would honour all of the fallen. Though Elrond had offered everything they could need to bear Aradess back home, Thranduil had declined. Having Aradess' body nearby would not ease his pain, and he hated to think of how her burial could be desecrated by the violence to come. No, better that she lie in the tranquility of Imladris.
Aradess had been put in her grave in a white and silver shroud that Celebrian had given. She wore only her golden wedding ring and her leaf pendant, and her hair was fanned loose around her. Aradess the queen would be memorialized and honoured with great magnificence by her subjects in Mirkwood. Aradess the wife and mother had now those tokens that she cherished most, all she needed to run free and wild through the endless green woods of paradise.
"Namárië, Naneth," Legolas said softly. He laid an arrow at her side, one of his own, a final symbol of Mirkwood. "My heart shall weep until I see you again."
Legolas returned to Thranduil's side and took his arm.
"Do not despair that your mother loved you," Thranduil said when he saw his son's tears. "You gave her peace in her final moments in this world."
Legolas looked at him. "Truly?"
"She loved you more than life itself from the day you were born. You are her immortality, ion-nín. Her spirit will live on in all the days of your life."
"Lady Galadriel tried to show me what happened. I thought I should try, so that someone would know, so that she would be remembered to her last… but I couldn't do it. I knew she was going to give her life for mine and I couldn't… I'm sorry, Ada."
"No," Thranduil said, taking his arm from Legolas' and wrapping it around his shoulders. "You do not need to bear any of that."
"It made me think of the day we fought the spider. I saw her anger, I saw what it took for you to stop her from running out into the woods to take her vengeance. From that day I always feared what she might do if anything were to happen to me."
"Your mother was so strong. I knew only fear that day, fear like I had never felt in my entire life. I would have locked you away if that was what it would take to keep your safe. Instead, your mother gave you your white knives and bid you to practice until you were lethal with them. I wish—"
The winter wind blew through the sparse trees and Thranduil shivered as it scraped over even what little flesh he had exposed.
I wish you had her instead of me.
"You should be inside, Ada," Legolas said. He went to the side of burial mound and picked up the cover of woven branches. He stared down into the grave and finally laid the cover in its place.
Whether Aradess remained here in the forest of Imladris or had passed into the halls of paradise as Thranduil's broken faith had taught him, she would have the sight of the stars forever.
Arwen knew the time for her own shock and pain was over, but she could not help crying at Aradess' grave. She clung to her brothers on either side of her, trying to keep her grief within their shield, away from their mother who still looked so unwell, away from their grandmother who gazed at the simple burial mound with no sign of feeling in her face. They had gathered only for a moment of silence—their own small memorial after Thranduil and Legolas had completed their own—but now some time had passed and none of them had moved.
"Long now the golden leaves have grown upon the branching years," Galadriel said suddenly, reciting from her own beautiful, sad song. "And here beyond the Sundering Seas now fall the Elven tears."
Arwen's surprise stilled her tears and when she glanced at her grandmother, she saw her take Celeborn's hand beside her. Celeborn closed his eyes and moved his lips in silent prayer. Together they stepped forward and bowed deeply before Aradess, then they turned back and gave Celebrian, Elladen, Arwen, and Elrohir each an embrace and a kiss in turn before leaving the grove.
"Will we truly just let Lord Thranduil and Legolas go, Ada?" Elladen asked.
"Of course," Elrond replied. "We must let them do as they wish."
"Even if what they wish might get them killed? With no escort, barely armed when no one knows what might be out there waiting for them? Do we not owe Lady Aradess more than that?"
"Offering help where none is wanted is not help," Elrond said evenly to his son's rising voice. "They know how to keep themselves safe. They will travel lightly and with all haste, and they will return safely within the walls of Mirkwood."
"But, Ada—"
"Stop, Elladen," Arwen said. "They'll be all right. They have Lady Aradess watching over them, don't they, Naneth?"
Celebrian smiled hopefully, but it broke the mask of calm she wore and tears began to pour down her cheeks. Arwen broke away from her brothers and embraced her mother. Despite her appearance of frailty, Celebrian's hold on Arwen was fierce and binding.
"Elladen, Elrohir," Celebrian beckoned her sons. They obeyed and Arwen was squeezed between her mother and her brothers, and a moment later her father as well.
Arwen had watched Legolas and Thranduil's private memorial from a distance, just for a moment. Two seemed so small a number when she thought about what they would have to face. All she could do was be thankful for her own complete family and offer her hopeful wishes to the universe for Legolas and Thranduil.
Safety, good health, and peace.
Arwen glanced at the covered grave beside her and said her prayer again. She offered them to Aradess' ears, trusting that she heard them, that whatever strength Aradess found in the halls beyond would grow with Arwen's faith. Arwen had nothing else to believe, nothing else she could do but pray and say goodbye.
Arwen stayed close to her mother throughout the day, while everyone else was called away to assist with final preparations for the departure of their guests. In one small mercy, the sun lit the valley after a dismal morning and the clouds dispersed far and wide, making way for a brilliant starry night.
As had become the norm, Celebrian slipped into a deep rest after nightfall, her pure grace still plagued by the touch of the Black Breath. Arwen lit candles and left the light to guard her mother while she ventured out across the sprawling halls and staircases.
She found a closed door at her destination, but even her gentle knock pushed it slightly open. She could see Legolas standing at the window, flooded with moonlight.
"Come in," he said without turning.
Arwen opened the door fully and stepped inside. "You are ready for your journey tomorrow?"
"Yes," Legolas replied. He wore the clothes that he had arrived in, plain hunting garb now cleaned of mud. His weapons were laid out on the narrow bed.
"Your people will be glad to see you." Arwen kept herself a few paces away. She recognized this man, the aloof and distant prince; it was not the Legolas she had taken into her heart as a brother.
"I hope you will be as gentle with yourself as you will be with them," Arwen said to his back.
"They need me to be strong," Legolas said, the affected sternness in his voice diminishing with every word. "My father needs me to be strong."
"Legolas—"
"Thank you for indulging my feelings, Lady Arwen. You and your family gave me comfort in a time of great pain. But now—"
"Don't close yourself off, Legolas. Don't let this fester in your heart."
"I am perfectly capable of controlling my feelings now. I have to."
Arwen came to stand in front of him, forcing him to look at her.
"I think you are feeling your pain more than ever. You're holding your breath."
Legolas' gaze finally met hers. His princely comportment might have held him up, but his eyes told the truth.
"Let me help you while I can," Arwen said. She set her hands on his shoulders and rose up to kiss him. She was gentle against his rigidity and pulled back when his lips finally opened with a desperate breath.
"I don't know what I'm going to do," he said. "I don't know if I can do what my father needs or what my people need. I can't be what Lady Galadriel commanded me. I can't—"
"You will only be strong for your father and his kingdom if you take time for yourself, Legolas. Be strong enough to face your pain—don't bury it within yourself. It will heal only in the light. Take this with you." Arwen kissed him again and this time Legolas leaned into her, cupped her face in his hands, held her until his breaths came even and full.
"You are your mother's son, Legolas," Arwen said once he parted from her. "You alone will define who you want to be."
Legolas smiled a little at that. He started to gather Arwen's hands in his, but she let go.
"Don't say goodbye until tomorrow," she said.
"Then will you stay?" he asked. "Just for a while?"
"Of course."
"Thank you, Elrond," Thranduil said with a deep dip of his head. "I owe you a great debt."
Elrond waved the sentiment away with his hand. "If you need anything, I hope you will not hesitate to ask. We must keep each other close in times like these."
Thranduil was about to repeat his gratitude when Elrond pulled him into a tight embrace.
"Look after yourself, Thranduil Oropherion," Elrond said, the same words said after a war a thousand years ago. "Travel safely."
With an obedient nod to Elrond, Thranduil moved up the line to Celebrian. Her golden glow was dimmed beneath thick shawls.
"Lady Celebrian, I am so sorry for what has been brought upon your family."
"We will be fine," Celebrian said with a small, kind smile. She reached a hand out from her wrappings and set it against his chest. "Peace be with you and your people, Lord Thranduil. Imladris will always answer your call."
"Lorien as well," Celeborn said from where he stood beside his daughter. He extended a hand and Thranduil grasped his arm in reply.
"My thanks, Lord Celeborn," Thranduil said. He moved on to Galadriel, but kept an arm's distance from her.
"We all mourn with Mirkwood," Galadriel said. "Please take our prayers with you."
"Thank you, Lady Galadriel."
His formal goodbyes completed, Thranduil searched for Legolas, who had preceded him up the line. Legolas was in the middle of a final embrace, a golden head surrounded by the three dark ones of Elrond and Celebrian's children. Even a small swell of gladness made Thranduil's fragile heart crack. Legolas should have had his own siblings. There was no good reason Thranduil could think of now as to why he and Aradess should have delayed in having more children.
"Legolas," Thranduil called as he mounted his horse.
Legolas extracted himself from the tangle of arms that encircled him. Still, he was held back a moment longer. The twins grasped his shoulders—shoulders now laden with bow and quiver and knives, as they would be for some time to come. Arwen laid a hand on Legolas' cheek in a silent, tender farewell; Legolas hesitated to leave her. It was she who had to step away and bid him to go.
Legolas swung up onto his horse beside Thranduil and nodded, ready.
"Namárië," Thranduil said.
All of them—Mirkwood, Imladris, and Lorien Elves—laid hands over their hearts and offered them to each other.
Thranduil turned his gaze towards the rising sun, towards the trees that guarded his beloved Aradess. His farewell to her was silent, a violent shudder in his breast. An eternal love turned to eternal pain in his heart.