Ahem … remember me? Took me a teeeeensy bit longer than expected but hey, here's that final chapter!

oOoOo

Everything was a blur after that.

The stagnant mess they had been enduring for months, his son's drawn-out torment, his own frustrating ineffectiveness … it all ended within days after the arrival of the Imladrians. And suddenly, the hopes and ideas became a plan, an actual clear plan to take Legolas in the direction he would ultimately be headed. Thranduil was still reeling from his own freshly disturbed mess of long-buried emotions, and now the last of his kin was leaving, definitely leaving, and he did not know what to think or feel anymore.

He did not ask them for help. He told himself he would have, if it had been necessary, but after he allowed them to see Legolas, they offered to take him with them to Imladris willingly, almost urgently. Which he had more or less expected them to do, compassionate and sheltered as they were. Legolas was already in on the scheme when they asked, which was proof that he really wanted to and that was what mattered. He gave them his permission, and with that, the preparations started.

He would not go with them. He wanted to, desperately, but he had already made the choice between his kingdom and his son. There was little point in prolonging it. He was needed here, especially now. He was not needed on this journey, the Imladrians were plenty.

There were ten in their company, if indeed Elrond's latest pet adan could be counted. This was more than Thranduil would have been able to spare, at least not without creating great difficulty for his guard. Not to mention that Legolas would have objected to any of its members being wasted on his protection. He knew too that the twin sons of Elrond were experienced and relentless warriors, and was fairly certain that they would have selected their companions very carefully.

He knew that it was as good an outcome as he could have hoped for, that their coming was a stroke of luck. He knew it, but that did not stop him from resenting them. He did his best not to show it. Whether he succeeded or not he could not have said; he was barely aware of what he was doing since they had arrived.

What stood out was all the arguing.

This should not have surprised him, and he supposed it didn't really, but he and his son - of course - had very different ideas on how the latter should spend the remainder of his time at home, as well as for the journey itself.

It started with Thranduil's insistence that Fairnathad accompany them to Imladris. Rationally, Thranduil knew that Legolas would be in good hands with the Elrondionnath and that there was probably not much that Fairnathad would be able to do for him that they wouldn't, but the idea of not sending the healer, of leaving Legolas entirely in the care of strangers, was more than he could bear. Fairnathad knew his son, and he knew more about his current condition than anybody else, he reasoned. Including him was important. He would never forgive himself if something happened on the way, and he had only the Imladrians' word for it. And even if everything went well, he needed his friend's first-hand account of how the journey had gone, how they had arrived, how Legolas fared. He refused to negotiate on this point, it was already second-best to his going with them himself.

But Legolas tried. Hard. He saw sending along the realm's head healer as unnecessary and grossly irresponsible toward their people and Fairnathad himself, and used nearly every occasion on which he and Thranduil saw each other to try to convince him that he was making a huge mistake. It was typical Legolas, really. There was no chance of success in his endeavor, as Thranduil tried to make clear from the start, but that did not stop him from bringing it up. His stance did not surprise him, but the extent to which it grated on his already frayed nerves did.

When they weren't arguing about that, they argued about how Legolas spent his days. Thranduil had more compassion for his son on this point. There was an end to his suffering, or at least a new perspective, in sight now, and it had given him a fresh burst of energy. He was leaving his home, probably for good, and he wanted to use the rest of his time there well, fill it with good memories, see the places he loved again. Of course Thranduil understood. Unfortunately, most of the things he had in mind involved a lot of action and movement, which invariably resulted in an ill and worn-down wreck returning in the evening, if he returned at all. He recovered slowly from these escapades, and they kept him from sticking to the only prescriptions Fairnathad had given for the time before they left: rest, food and minimal medication.

After Legolas had defied his orders to stay in bed and eat the first time and spent the day outside shooting arrows across the river with the Imladrians instead, he had tried to deny him everything stronger than the willow bark that was all he was supposed to be taking. The result was so pitiful that he did not hold out for long, resorting to giving him the much needed poppy draught and warning him not to overdo it again. The next day, when he stopped by Legolas' room to make sure he ate, he found it empty and his son in the armory finishing up something. Legolas unfortunately had a lot of co-conspirators.

Next he confined him to his own quarters again, hoping that fewer of his son's friends would dare enter the king's rooms to help him escape. He also hid the wheelchair and tasked Galion with more or less standing guard. This was successful for quite a while, in which Thranduil was satisfied to see the circles under his eyes lighten and the deepening hollows in his cheeks fill in ever so slightly. Legolas was resentful toward him though, sulky and impatient at the prospect of confinement in a way he had not witnessed since before these injuries, and apparently used the entire time during his absences to coax Galion over onto his side, for when he returned to his rooms one evening after nearly a week of quiet, they were both gone.

He found them in the stables. Legolas' defiance was masked with innocence, Galion's with righteousness. The situation was so achingly familiar, so reassuringly like the antics he had endured from his son for yéni that he would have laughed if he had been any less worried.

"I thought you of all people were immune to this", he grumbled at Galion as he seized the handles of Legolas' chair and pushed him gruffly back toward the bridge.

Galion followed them. "I happen to agree with him", he said loftily.

"Yes I can see that." The chair hit a bump and he heard Legolas draw in a sharp breath. "So would I, if it were somehow possible for him to eat and sleep after any of these fun outings. As things are though, my priorities are clear."

The chair jerked roughly over a protruding root.

"You are hurting me, Ada", Legolas said quietly. His knuckles were white on the armrests. Thranduil slowed his pace.

Galion fell into step with him. "I suppose if you want his last memories of this place to be how well-fed and rested he was –"

"It's not about making memories", Thranduil growled. "He has plenty of memories. They will not get him very far. What he needs is sustenance. How about you make yourself useful and go and get some."

Galion turned on his heel and stalked off. Thranduil took Legolas back to his suite, neither of them speaking to the other despite the physical closeness the undertaking required.

He set him down on the unmade bed quite a bit less gently than he should have, eliciting a hiss of pain. Legolas' jaw was set, his gaze directed stubbornly away from his father. Thranduil turned on his heel and left the bedroom, heading back to his study. He poured himself a glass of wine and leaned against his desk for a moment, trying to understand what he was feeling. There did not seem to be a clear answer. He massaged his temples with his free hand. Whatever else he had been feeling, it was being slowly but surely covered up by guilt. He debated going back to Legolas but decided to wait for Galion.

The valet arrived a few moments later carrying a tray and followed by a second servant carrying Legolas' wheelchair, which Thranduil had abandoned at the bottom of the first flight of stairs he had had to carry Legolas up. He had forgotten about it. Galion motioned for the other to set down the chair and leave, threw Thranduil an indifferent look and went through to the bedroom. Thranduil sighed. If Galion had already decided there was no point in talking to him, he was probably right, he usually was. He got up and followed him through the connecting doors.

Legolas hadn't moved – well, of course he hadn't. He did not glance up as Galion set up a table over his lap and put the tray of food in front of him.

"Supper. As we agreed, ernilig", Thranduil heard Galion say. "Enjoy." And with that, he left the room without another glance.

Thranduil leaned against the wall. Legolas made no move to start on the food, just sat there hunched over and motionless. Thranduil watched him for a moment while his own frustration melted away.

"Something for the pain?", he asked finally.

Legolas did not look up. "Saes."

Thranduil went over to the dresser now containing a large stock of medicines and prepared a strong herbal draught. Legolas did not look too bad yet, and Fairnathad had advised them to skip the poppy whenever possible to lower his tolerance for the journey.

He took it over to him and pushed the warm cup into his cold hands. Legolas held it and took a careful sip.

"You cannot make me better, Ada", he said quietly, lowering the cup. He looked up at him sideways.

Thranduil sat down on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb the untouched dinner tray. "I am not trying to make you–"

"I thought that was the whole point of this."

Thranduil sighed, weary of repeating the same arguments. "Fairnathad says that it's important –"

"I know what's important to you. This is important to me."

Thranduil folded his arms. "And what is it that you think is important to me?"

Legolas shrugged. "You want me to sleep now because you think the trip will be strenuous and I will be in too much pain to find rest. You also want me to stay in bed and not move so I won't be in as much pain and won't need as much medicine, so I won't have to take as much for it to be effective after I leave. And you want me to stuff myself with food now so I have energy reserves in case I cannot eat on the road. You want to give me the best possible start, you want to help me, you want to take care of me. I have understood."

Thranduil raised his eyebrows. "And you don't agree? You think I am exaggerating?"

Legolas gave a soft laugh. "No, I'm sure you and Nath are right about the trip. I just don't think any of this will make much of a difference." He let his eyes roam slowly over Thranduil's face. "I am going to be miserable on the road, what does it matter whether that sets in a few hours earlier or later. It matters more to me that you let me say goodbye. I have seldom been away from this forest for long, and whenever I have, I have missed it. I will likely never see it again. I want to say goodbye." The corner of his mouth quirked. "Nath will not give me more poppy than I can handle, and I will not starve to death in a few weeks. I promise."

Thranduil looked at his son. The confidence in his eyes was almost enough to hide how ill and thin he looked. Thranduil sighed. "Is that how you convinced Galion to liberate you?"

Legolas finally smiled, evidently sensing his victory. "Yes."

"You also seem to have promised him you would eat."

Legolas rolled his eyes and took a large swallow of the herbal draught. "I do eat, Ada. And I will. But you will have to be satisfied with normal amounts, I will not make myself sick every time I have an appetite to compensate for the times when I don't."

He emptied the cup and sat forward and uncovered the meal Galion had brought him. It was some kind of porridge. Thranduil could tell he did not want it, but was satisfied to see him start eating without complaint.

"You seem more like yourself than you have in a long time", he commented, after watching him for a while.

Legolas glanced up at him. "The prospect of change is … restorative", he said between spoonfuls. "And I want to enjoy the rest of my time here. I know you are anxious about saying goodbye to me, Ada. I am too. And I would rather not spend my last days here arguing with you. But I don't have just you to say goodbye to, but everything."

He made a sweeping gesture around the room. Thranduil sighed. He was right. He was not sure his lot was easier, to say goodbye to his son and stay behind, it did not feel that way. But he had decided to let him go, he might as well begin now.

Legolas suddenly frowned in afterthought, throwing his father a reproachful look and folding his arms. "Well. Everything except Nath."

"Don't start."

And so their final days passed in peace. Legolas went out all day and returned to Thranduil's rooms at night, exhausted, hurting and sometimes ill but still somehow in good spirits. Thranduil stayed away from whatever activities he had planned, mostly so he would not dampen the mood with his own distracted melancholy, but he did not criticize, even when his son was returned to him in a particularly wretched heap the evening before they were to leave. He had spent the previous evening and night in the trees with Beleghîr and the whole day in Tawaren's garden at a kind of farewell gathering she had invited all his friends and colleagues and everybody who knew him to. She had invited Thranduil too, of course, but had not seemed surprised nor tried to convince him otherwise when he had declined under the pretense of being busy. He did not feel up to seeing that many people, and this was simply too personal. Enough of his subjects had

witnessed his weakness concerning his son's condition, he did not need anyone to see his reaction to his imminent departure.

He could tell that Legolas had barely slept, and that he had been drinking. He appeared to have had a good time but was so exhausted that he could hardly talk, so Thranduil just gave him his medicine and climbed into bed next to him, watching him quickly drop off to sleep for the last time. His own weariness did nothing to help him rest.

He was still lying in bed when Galion rapped on the door the next morning. Legolas was still asleep; perhaps Thranduil had been a bit too generous with the pain medicine, but he needed Legolas to be well-rested at least. He did not want to wake him yet, so he quietly got up and followed Galion out of the room. Galion brought him tea, laid out his wardrobe, did everything he usually did, just in an unusually demure manner. Thranduil went through the motions, his senses dull and blunted.

Fairnathad came in some time later. One look at the king was plenty for him to assess his state of mind; there was nothing he could do for his friend so he said a brief good morning and then headed next door to help him by helping his patient. Thranduil followed him into the bedroom to find Legolas awake, looking fairly well-rested and composed. Fairnathad put the breakfast tray Galion had brought in front of him and while he ate enlisted Thranduil's help filling the bath in the adjacent wash room. There was no shortage of servants to ask but the king seemed relieved to have something to do with his hands. The next hour or two were easily filled with the mundane yet complicated tasks of getting Legolas ready for the road. They spoke little; nothing any of them said seemed appropriate.

When Legolas was finally ready, he already looked far more strained than he had upon waking, but of course there was no point in commenting on it or attempting to do anything about it. Thranduil studied him as Fairnathad straightened up after helping him into his wheelchair. Legolas was dressed in the traditional garments of their warriors and scouts, and the sight was jarring because Thranduil had not seen him in those greens and browns in a long time. He had probably been avoiding the colors on purpose, Thranduil reflected, just as he had mostly refused to do anything even slightly reminiscent of warriors' styles with his hair since his injury. Today was one of the only times he had let Thranduil braid it back, giving in to the reasonable argument that anything that made him stand out more than necessary from the rest of the traveling party would put them needlessly at risk. In a way, all this made him look more like himself; mostly though, it made the wheelchair, his general peakiness and the new leg braces that had been specially crafted for this trip stand out even more starkly.

Now was the time to say goodbye, he realized. To say a real and heartfelt goodbye, anyway. He would watch them ride off, of course, but it was likely going to be a fairly public event. Now was the last chance he would have to send him off properly, as his father and not his king. But he felt nothing. Legolas looked up at him, hands on his wheels. He looked perfectly calm, though his habit of moving the chair very lightly back and forth betrayed a certain disquiet.

"Ready?", he asked.

Thranduil nodded numbly. There were no farewells left in him.

He pushed Legolas up the passages of the underground halls in silence, leaving Galion and Fairnathad to follow him up any stairs with the wheelchair whenever he had to leave it behind. The beautiful summer day they finally emerged into seemed surreal, almost cruel. He blinked and focused on navigating the chair across the bridge.

A small crowd had gathered along the opposite bank of the river, lining the path that led from the bridge to the stables. Thranduil had debated for a while how to deal publicly with his son's leaving; he did not want to make a big spectacle of it, or any kind of spectacle, really, but Legolas was their prince and the only straightforward heir to the throne, so he did not feel like he had much of a choice. Even Legolas, who wanted the scrutiny possibly even less than himself, had agreed that some kind of announcement would be appropriate. Thranduil was sure he was thinking mostly of his duty towards the family members of his late fellow combatants, but had simply decided to inform the council to spread word of the imminent departure among his people. He had not issued any kind of general invitation, but it seemed that most people who had ever had anything to do with Legolas had shown up, and they formed a not insignificant farewell party. Thranduil released his hold on Legolas' chair as people began to flock towards his son and moved in the direction of the stables to leave them some space to say their goodbyes.

The traveling company was waiting by the stables. The horses were saddled and loaded and currently being coaxed by two of the Imladrians to drink as much as they would. Fairnathad passed Thranduil from behind and went over to inspect the improvised double saddle that Legolas' mare was already wearing, and looking quite disgruntled about.

Thranduil stood aside with Galion, watching the last preparations of the travelers. They were busy but visibly relaxed, seasoned, adept, and he got a distinct sense that they were glad to be getting back on the road. Legolas would be in good hands.

He glanced back towards the stronghold. The crowd had dispersed somewhat, spreading out more directly along the banks of the river and the bridge to free the path a bit more. Thranduil could see Legolas in the midst of the throng, very slowly wheeling forwards with people bending down to him left and right to shake his hands, grasp his arms, even embrace him. Thranduil could not have addressed half of these people by name, but then Legolas had always been the approachable part of the royal family. And Elloth before that, he realized with a sudden pang. He had never been king without some less intimidating counterpart to vouch for him.

Tawaren was leaning over him now, both arms wrapped around his shoulders from behind his chair. Her hair fell into his lap and she turned to push her lips into his temple, holding them there in a long kiss as she rocked him slowly back and forth. Legolas laughed as he realized who it was and pushed some of her hair away, but then put both his hands over her folded arms and leaned into her gestures for a lot longer than Thranduil would have been able to do with anyone. Still he found himself deeply touched as he watched them pull apart, watched Legolas laugh again as she ruffled his hair and brushed his cheek with her fingers as she stepped away. And grateful. Grateful for her presence in his son's life.

To his surprise, she headed over towards him and Galion and wordlessly took up a place by his side. Legolas had almost reached them by now too, and the crowd had thinned considerably. He stopped one more time to talk to Beleghîr and what looked like all of the higher-ranking guard members currently not on patrol. Thranduil heard the commander saying a somewhat official goodbye, thanking Legolas for his service to the realm while the captains flanking him looked on earnestly. Legolas nodded and thanked them, clasping their arms in turn and making an effort to meet their eyes. His subtly resigned expression told Thranduil that this small display of respect had been previously discussed, and was probably something of a compromise. Well, that was one discussion he was glad to have skipped over. He was impressed that Beleghîr had managed to convince his son to agree to any show of honor at all. He watched the two of them as they held each other by the forearms and said a final public goodbye that had no doubt been preceded by a more private one. Beleghîr stood as Legolas let go and turned. The glimpse of sadness in the commander's eyes made Thranduil feel a sudden surge of compassion toward him.

Legolas was facing them now. His face was open, expectant. Thranduil swallowed, inclined his head in the direction of the horses and slowly followed his son.

Legolas wheeled up to Thûl and greeted her, stroking his nose and speaking to her quietly. She blew loudly in his face and stomped her forelegs. The other members of the party were equally ready, if less impatient. They slowly began breaking apart, each taking up their places beside their horses. Fairnathad came over to join them by Thûl.

There was nothing left to do.

Legolas glanced at Thranduil, then whispered to Thûl again. The mare sank swiftly to her knees, and Legolas patted her neck. Then he looked back at Thranduil.

Thranduil had had some kind of plan on how to behave in this situation. Something he wanted to say, or perhaps some way he wanted to act. He couldn't remember any of it.

Legolas watched him patiently for a moment. So did Fairnathad, and he imagined that Galion and Tawaren were doing the same. Actually, he felt like he himself was doing the same. Far less patiently, but still nothing happened.

"Ada", Legolas finally said gently. "I could use a hand."

Thranduil nodded and stepped forward. Mechanically, he lifted Legolas out of his chair and onto the front part of the double saddle. Fairnathad helped him position his legs in the supportive construction they had built. Thranduil saw the rest of the company begin mounting their rides out the corners of his eyes. This was it.

"Nevaer, ion-nîn", he murmured. He was still crouching on the ground beside Thûl. Realizing that he was keeping the horse from rising, he made to stand. This would have to be enough goodbye. Even if nobody had been watching, he did not think he was capable of doing any more just then. It didn't matter anyway. This was just one moment. They had been saying goodbye for months.

Before he could rise, his vision was obstructed by a flash of pale gold, and suddenly his arms were wrapped around his son's bony shoulders, trying to keep him from falling back off the horse entirely. His trance was momentarily broken; tears welled up in his eyes, and he almost laughed with relief.

"Be well, Legolas", he said quietly, stroking the back of his head.

"Take care of yourself, Ada", Legolas said into his shoulder. He pulled away and smiled. Thranduil did his best to smile back, then nodded at Fairnathad. Together, they steadied Legolas as Thûl got to her feet. Galion took Fairnathad's place as the healer leapt up onto the horse behind Legolas. Last farewells were said to the rest of the company, and then they were off.

Thranduil watched as the last of the party slowly disappeared from sight among the darkness of the trees, then waited as the soft sound of hooves on earth grew quieter and faded. And then he kept standing there, facing the way they had gone. He resisted the temptation to track the company's movements through the trees. It was no longer his concern.

A hand placed lightly into the small of his back startled him out of his dazed torpor. "Thranduil." It was Tawaren. "Come", she said, prompting him gently to turn around. "I have a lot of food left over from yesterday. Come back to the garden with me and we'll fix something."

"Excellent idea", Galion cut in. He linked his arm through Thranduil's on the other side and steered the king, more forcefully, in the direction of the stronghold.

Thranduil's feet walked between them numbly. He felt nothing, and for all he knew it was Galion and Tawaren who were supporting his entire weight. But his feet were moving. That was something. One step at a time.

They were almost at the bridge when a sudden gust of wind lifted behind them. Thranduil's hair blew into his face, tickled his cheeks, pushed him firmly in the direction he was headed. He thought he caught a faint scent of horses, but he might have been imagining it. He turned back towards the west, closing his eyes and letting it blow into his face, breathing in deeply. Just for a moment.

Then he turned again, and let his friends lead him back across the bridge towards his kingdom.

adan - Man (as in human)

Elrondionnath - sons of Elrond

ernilig - princeling

Saes - please

Nevaer - farewell

ion-nîn - my son

oOoOo

THE END!

Wow. I can't believe I did that, I mean finished that. Sorry for making everybody wait so long, I've been doing a lot of writing, even a lot of related writing, but this chapter just took me a while to figure out. And I know it's not a totally resolved ending, but this fic is meant to be able to be read up to this point without necessarily needing the sequel.

I know a lot of you were looking forward to Elladan and Elrohir so I'm sorry to disappoint on that account, but I do have plans for them. In the sequel. I've already started on it, and it is a continuation of this story, but will be different in the sense that it will be a LOT less Thranduil-centric (this fic actually turned out to be wayyyy more Thranduil-centric than I had originally imagined it). I won't say more because I'm not sure I can trust myself to stick to anything else, but that part I'm pretty certain about.

Anyway, thank you sooooooo much to everyone who read and left kudos and commented on this fic! It really meant a lot to hear that there were people out there who were just as into this story as I was, and that really kept me going (albeit slowly…)! I hope you enjoyed the ending as well, and will stick around for the sequel! (annnnd maybe some one-shots I've written that could be part of this series (but I'm still not quite happy with them so we'll see)). You're the best and this was so fun!

As always, feedback is much appreciated 3