#earmir

Chapter VI: From Mirkwood to Eryn Lasgalen: Legolas’ Return (Pt. I)

“I emerged from my tent at dawn to the sound I had not heard for centuries it seemed—birds chirping melodiously. Nearby, there were woodland creatures roaming beneath the forest tress softly swaying in unison as a gentle breeze blew through their branches. The sky began to lighten as the sun rose; it was a vibrant blue I could almost touch.

Evil was gone. I could not help but remember the years that had come before—so many years of darkness intermingled with moments of joy swirling around times of anguish. I had come out of the shadows to see the dawn of the new age father had said I would.

“Thranduil, son of Oropher,” I heard a voice say beside me. It was Galathil.

“Galathil, son of Galadhon,” I answered. “So this is the day our fathers wished to see.”

“Yes,” he said. “And yet, it comes as every day before it—in a whisper too quiet for us to hear. Perhaps that is how time wishes it to be. To allow us to appreciate all that is given and all that is lost.”

“I have spent much of my life fighting time as much as evil,” I said. “I have never known what it would like not to fight something.”

“I am sure you will not miss it,” he said. “You will not forget it, but you will not miss it.”

“I know one day, I will forget,” Celeborn said as he walked toward us with Ëarmîr. “I look forward to that day with great expectation. For now, I look forward to our return to your palace, Thranduil. Galadriel is waiting.”

“I must apologize to you, Celeborn,” I said as I saw Eldôr approaching with Elranduil. “I did not prepare her for the horrors of my halls.”

“What horrors,” Celeborn asked concerned.

“Three little elven children, I am afraid,” Elranduil said smiling. “They are rather precocious. They seemed to have inherited such behavior from me, right dear cousin?”

I gave him weak smile as he laughed with the others.

“I am sure they cannot be anywhere near the trouble of Elladan and Elrohir,” Celeborn said laughing. “I am sure Galadriel is fine, though I cannot promise the same for the children.”

As we laughed together I noticed Êlenuil with his brother Elendôr. He had a grey horse by its reins that was saddled and prepared for a long journey.

“If you excuse me,” I said.

I walked toward them; my gait heavy as my heart. They bowed to me as I came before them.

“So you are leaving, Êlenuil,” I said. “So soon after battle?”

“I must,” he said quietly, looking at the ground. “It is for the best.”

“You do remember what I asked of you?”

“Yes, Thranduil,” he answered as he looked at me. “You have my word.”

“I will send your children to you when the time comes,” I said. “I trust you will be there to receive them.”

“I will wait for them,” he said. “You have my word.”

I felt sorry for Êlenuil for his pain was palpable. His sorrow reminded me of myself when I lost Êlúriel. I wondered if I had been too hard on him.

“Elendôr, go see to your father,” I said. “I would like a moment with your brother.”

“Yes, Thranduil,” he said bowing. We watched him walk away toward camp. I could see things were being prepared for the journey back to the palace.

“Have I been too harsh with you, Êlenuil,” I asked. “If I have, forgive me.”

“You have been nothing more than noble,” he said. “As expected a King.”

“You are my kin,” I said. “You are a prince of the realm. You returned to fight for your people. I do not know anything more noble than that.”

“Thank you,” he said smiling beneath his golden hair.

“I remember when I lost my wife,” I began, my mind reliving the moment again as it had for centuries. “I would be remiss if I did not tell you how it was for me.”

“There is no need for you to remember such pain,” he said.

“I have never forgotten,” I said. “I have lived every day with that pain. There is not a moment I do not think about her. She died for me. She gave her life for me and I have lived with the guilt that I could not save her.”

I could tell by Êlenuil’s expression that my face had fallen grave. I felt the tears falling down my cheek as they had the day I held Êlúriel’s lifeless body in my arms.

“I did not deserve her,” I said. “She was too good for me, but she loved me as if I were. I thought then as I do now that I should have fallen in her place. It was not meant to be and I know she would not want me to leave our sons without a father nor a kingdom without a king. I know how you long for Súlelenth, Êlenuil. I can see it in your eyes. I see me in your eyes.”

Êlenuil was looking at me, his face serene. He had a smile on his face—one I had not seen since his youth.

“I know how it has been for you, cousin,” he said. “That is why I left Nenduîl and Tárimë with you.”

“What are you saying,” I asked trying to compose myself rather poorly. “I do not understand.”

“When they were born, grandfather remarked how much they reminded him of you and the Queen,” he said. “Súlelenth never knew her but her mother told her stories all her life about your love. When she died, I could not look at my children not because I did not love them. It was not because I lost their mother, though I loved her with all my heart. I knew she was mortal and would have died as mortals will. I could not look at them because they were so close and reminded me of you and Queen Êlúriel.”

I had regain some composure as I found myself wanting to understand what Êlenuil was trying to say.

“I am afraid you have lost me,” I said.

“I knew they brought you much joy,” he said nearly laughing. “No matter how hard you tried to show otherwise. You are the worst liar in all of Arda, you realize.”

“I am not,” I said defiantly.

“You wished no more to see them when they were born no more than I wish to see them now because they reminded you of the very same thing. They are named for you and your queen.”

“You are right,” I admitted. “But why leave them with me?”

“They adore you,” he said. “I could not bare to lose their love.”

“You are their father,” I said. “How could they not love you?”

“I know they love me,” he said. “I love them very much. But they are a comfort to you. As much a gift to you as they were to me. I think it was for you they were born.”

“Êlenuil,” I said sternly. “What are you saying?”

“I know they had visions of Queen Êlúriel,” he said. “As did their mother.”

I felt myself grow colder even as the day grew warmer around me. I was seemed unable to move.

“They know their purpose and I know mine,” Êlenuil said smiling. “I will keep my word to you.”

We looked at each other—seemingly knowing what the other felt. He embraced me and I could not help but return it.

“Thank you for the mithril,” he whispered, releasing me from his embrace. He mounted his horse and rode toward the west as he had done once before. I watched him until I could not see him.

“Thranduil,” I heard someone say. I looked to see Elranduil standing next to me. “Something the matter?”

“No,” I said. “I was just seeing Êlenuil on his way.”

“We await you to lead us home,” he said. “Unless there is a reason you wish us to remain here and watch you stare at trees.”

I grinned at him—nearly laughing at myself. I nodded and we headed toward camp. Seeing the elves of Mirkwood and Lothlórien together brought back memories of the last time we were together. This time, we were not riding off to war; we were riding home victorious.”--Excerpt from TKWR Book III: To Eryn Lasgalen by J.M.Miller 04-14-17