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Chapter 7

A/N: I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas! I am soooo sorry this is late!... Hopefully the next chapter will be sooner...

Thranduil tiredly rubbed his eyes. It had been a long day and even longer night.

Thankfully Legolas was sound asleep, not a light Elven sleep but a deep healing sleep that would mend his broken emotions. His eyes were shut, a testament of how exhausted the Prince was.

The King sighed, letting his head fall back, thinking back upon the heartbreaking scene he had come upon.

Legolas wrapped into a gentle, fierce, loving and supportive embrace as his emotions ran rampant.

Elladan and Elrohir had quietly moved to let Thranduil in his rightful place, and there his head buried into his Adar’s shoulder and his hands twisting into Thranduil’s robes desperately trying to find comfort after years of denial, he soon fell asleep.

They had carefully lifted the prince onto a nearby bed, slipped off his boots and gently tucked him under the sheets.

Pressing a gentle kiss to Legolas’ forehead, Thranduil stepped back to gaze sorrowfully at his youngest.

For many years he had held a thought in his mind why Legolas had reacted so badly to his mortal friend’s dying and perhaps now it was time to shed light upon it.

And there he sat, a small fire in front of him to dispel the chill of the night and early morning, with a glass of wine still full beside him, his brow furrowed as he thought upon Legolas’ life.

Or rather Legolas’ life after his Naneth had left.

A knock sounded startling the King from his musings. He heard a servant open the door.

“Hello Dienel.”

Thranduil heard Lomion’s voice. “Is my Adar here by chance?”

“Yes he is.” Dienel responded. “He is in the study.”

“Thank you.”

Footsteps sounded.

“Adar?”

“Come and sit down Lomion.” Thranduil invited. “There is something I wish to discuss with you.”

“Oh?” Lomion raised an eyebrow as he gracefully sat down. “And what would that be about.”

“I think there is a reason and a good one, why Legolas has been acting as he has been since Gimli died.” Thranduil began. “But I want to hear your opinion upon it before I talk with your other siblings.”

Curious, Lomion leaned forward.

“What do you remember most after your Naneth died about Legolas?” Thranduil questioned.

“What do I remember most?” Lomion clarified, leaning back and laced his fingers together.

Thranduil nodded.

Casting his memory back, Lomion’s brow furrowed as he thought back to that horrible day when their Naneth had left.

“Legolas wasn’t told.” He said abruptly. “The rest of us knew why she left, but Legolas was not told until he was an adult.”

“And after Legolas woke up the next day?” Thranduil pressed.

“He wanted Naneth.” Lomion whispered his mind filled with the elflings screams.

-Flashback-

“I want Nana!” Legolas screamed. One hand holding onto his blanket and the other tightly wrapped around his Adar. Tears were pouring down the red face.

And Thranduil was half afraid that Legolas would make himself ill.

“Want Nana!”

“Shah.” Thranduil whispered uselessly, near tears himself.

-Flash forward-

The entire realm mourned their beloved queen’s passing into the West. Indeed many could not fathom a reason why a mother would leaver her children behind, especially the youngest being an elfling yet.

Everyone in the realm knew of Legolas’ delicate condition and many were horrified that Lalaith could so callously leave.

Legolas had been born two months early his lungs had not been able to fully develop. He had struggled to live for several years until a chance encounter with Lord Elrond had given Legolas back his life.

Those few weeks in Imladris were rarely mentioned, but everyone who had been present could easily remember it.

“Now.” Thranduil continued. “Do you remember what happened after Loriel was married and left?”

A sad smile crossed Lomion’s lips. “He was devastated.” He said simply. “He refused to talk or eat, and was in a sullen pout for about three months.”

Thranduil nodded slowly.

“But why do you think that has anything to do with Naneth leaving?” Lomion questioned.

“What happened whenever you were punished and sent to your room?” Thranduil asked.

“Naneth was waiting for me.” Lomion said smiling.

“Who did your first run to when you scraped a knee or elbow?” Thranduil pressed.

“Naneth.” Lomion replied.

Thranduil nodded. “Exactly. Now where was she when Legolas was growing? Where was she when Legolas scraped a knee or elbow? Where was she when Legolas was punished and sent to his room?”

“Here.” Lomion said sadly. “In Valinor.”

“Your Naneth balanced out your childhood.” Thranduil explained. “I punished, she soothed.”

“Not all the time.” Lomion protested lightly.

“No.” Thranduil agreed. “But can you see the difference? One parent to punish and one parent to sooth.”

“But Legolas had Loriel and Lothgil.” Lomion disputed.

“But not his Naneth.” Thranduil countered. “Yes he had his sisters and brothers, but there is something pure and precious in a Naneth waiting to hold you and comfort you.”

Thranduil’s brow furrowed. “Legolas never really had that balance. For the first years of his life, I was absent. And from then to now, your Naneth was absent. And now that he does have the proper balance he feels lost. He doesn’t know whom to turn to. You, Loriel, Thalion, Tasari, Lothgil, your Naneth or I.”

“He has always been forced to balance things himself. But I think with his friends dying, he was forced to face a different balance.” Thranduil continued. “The balance of life and death.”

He took a breath. “See he knew that his Naneth was waiting for him here in Valinor. But his friends couldn’t wait here because they are mortal and sent some other place.”

“But Legolas would know that.” Lomion interjected.

“In his mind yes. In his heart he wanted to believe something different. He wanted to believe that because of their actions in Middle Earth that each of his mortal friends would be placed here in Valinor.” Thranduil explained.

So.” Lomion said slowly. “You think that because Legolas didn’t have Naneth by his side when he was growing up that that is the cause for all his hidden grief?”

“Some of it.” Thranduil returned. “He lost something very precious when your Naneth left him.”

“But he accepted her.” Lomion protested.

“With grace and dignity.” Thranduil agreed. “Forgiveness? I believe so, judging by Legolas’ actions around her. But I doubt that he even knows that her leaving was the first step that slowly tore his heart into pieces.”

---

Legolas groaned as his mind slowly nudged his body into consciousness.

He forced his eyelids open, he could not, for the life of him think why they were closed.

His head throbbed suddenly as he tried to sit up, the room unexpectedly going into dizzying spins.

He closed his eyes and forced the nausea down, taking several deep breaths. After a few moments he tried again.

He looked about the healing room. Herbs were hung here and there for drying, bottles with different colored liquid were stacked upon a nearby shelf that also held several volumes of books. Papers lay scattered upon a desk, some had sketching of various wounds and bruises and others had words on a new ailment that had been found, or a new poison.

His brow furrowed as he tried to remember where he was. The last thing he remembered as he sorted his rather fuzzy thoughts was that of being held.

He blinked and looked around the room again. There was no sign of anyone else. Usually there was somebody beside his bed or just entering the door to check on him.

He waited.

The door didn’t open.

His head tilted ever so slightly as he regarded the door quizzically, waiting for someone to come through the door.

A few moments passed.

Nothing happened.

With a slight shrug, Legolas carefully swung his feet down and stood rather shakily.

The door opened.

“Legolas!” Elladan cried out. “What are you doing?”

Legolas sighed. “I’m not injured or anything.” He defended himself.

Elladan laughed. “I know.” He said striding over to the bed. “I was teasing.”

“Ha, ha.” Legolas said, but with a grin on his lips.

“How do you feel?” Elladan asked, all playfulness aside.

“Honestly.” Legolas raised an eyebrow.

“Honestly.” Elladan confirmed.

“I feel…” Legolas hesitated, searching for the right words. “Empty, but full.” He frowned. “I feel as though a weight was lifted from me, but I can still feel traces of it.”

Elladan smiled gently, easily pulling the younger elf into a quick embrace. “Good.” He said simply. “I am glad.”

Legolas smiled back, his eyes sparkled from unshed tears. “I realized something Elladan.” He said quietly.

“And what is that?” Elladan asked gently.

“I cannot change anything in the past. I can only accept it and move to the future.” Legolas said carefully. “For so long I hated the fact that my friends were dead, and here I am, alive. Living. Breathing.” He shook his head. “But now I realize I am only hurting myself. In hating them for dying, I started to hate myself for living.”

He turned a weak smile upon the dark haired elf.

“And in hating myself, I started to hate everyone around me. I hated being immortal, at times I still do.” He continued frankly. His eyes took a distant look. “Just think, our mortal friends are all together.” A sad smile crossed his lips. “The fellowship is almost complete, all but one person.”

He turned bright eyes upon Elladan. “It’s rather funny isn’t it? For so long Boromir was the only person missing in our original fellowship. Now it’s me.”

He sighed. “Funny, isn’t it?”

Elladan smiled sadly, but made no comment. He knew Legolas had to get a lot of grief off his chest and was only too glad to remain silent and listen.

“But now.” Legolas whispered. “I realize that I don’t think I could ever bear to leave my family.” He turned a wavering smile upon the other elf. “Not even for Aragorn.”

Elladan quickly pulled the younger elf into a hug. “I am glad.” He whispered fiercely. “I am glad.”

---

Lomion idly ran the tip of his finger along his glass of wine. The wine was superb, but Lomion really had no taste for it especially after such a long thought provoking talk with his Adar.

Legolas had always been a wonderful child growing up. Though at times, now he could really think back, there were times when no one could console Legolas. There were times when on Naneth could have truly understood, not Loriel or Lothgil trying to understand or anyone else for that matter.

From growing from a small elfling, to a proud warrior to the commander of the army, Lomion had always had both parents near him.

Thranduil had been there when he had killed his first Orc, he had consoled his oldest son, but Lalaith had been there just to hold her oldest son while he wept, as his precious innocence was forever lost.

It had been the same with Thalion and Tasari. Thranduil had helped them come to grips with what they had done and Lalaith had been there to simply comfort them.

But when Legolas had killed his first Orc, it had been completely different. No one had been there to hold him. Lomion, Thalion and Thranduil had been in a conference with the other leaders, while Tasari and Lothgil had been off somewhere and Loriel had already left.

Picking up the glass by the stem he swirled the white wine around for a few seconds the raised the glass up and swallowed the rest of it easily. Then stood gracefully, stretching.

He had promised Adar to check on Legolas before Thranduil had left to talk to the rest of his siblings.

Gracefully walking down the corridor he silently opened the door. He was not surprised to see Elladan sitting with Legolas on the bed, but he was surprised to see them both laughing.

“He had that stupid look on his face!” Legolas laughed. “Like he was trying to be innocent when the cat was in his hands!”

Tears of laughter, of joy rain down Legolas cheeks, so different from the many tears of sorrow and pain. There was a light surrounding Legolas. The grief had started to fade from the gray-blue eyes.

“Legolas?” Lomion heard himself hesitantly ask.

If Legolas’ face had not already been lit up, the smile would have easily brightened it. “Lomion!” He cried out, as though he had not seen Lomion in several ages.

He flew to his feet and crushed Lomion in a heartfelt embrace.

Slightly stunned, Lomion wrapped his own arms around his little brother and squeezed back.

“What is all this about?” He asked after a few moments.

Legolas smiled, pulling back. “I just realized how much I have been neglecting my family.” He said.

“We all knew why.” Lomion hastened to say.

“No.” Legolas shook his head, but smiled to take away the sting of the word. “You understood the best you could, but you never fully understood.”

Lomion gently tucked a stray hair behind the elegantly pointed ear. “Oh Legolas.” He whispered. “When did you grow up?”

“A long, long time ago.” Legolas grinned. “You just never looked hard enough.”

Elladan laughed.

“I suppose I have you to thank for this?” Lomion gestured towards Legolas.

“Nay.” Elladan gracefully slid off the bed and onto his feet. “I just listened.”

“And understood with a greater ability than I could ever possess.” Lomion returned.

Elladan sighed. “Sometimes I wish I never had that ability.”

“I am glad someone does though.” Legolas said quietly, reaching out to pull the dark haired elf into a warm hug. “Thank you.” He whispered.

“Hey.” Elladan whispered back. “Sometimes we all need a little help.”

Legolas laughed and pulled back. “And sometimes we need a lot of help.”

“I’ll say.” The dark haired elf returned with a grin.

Legolas playfully narrowed his eyes. “Really?”

Without warning, the young prince launched himself at grinning elf, grabbed his right wrist and twisted backwards, then triumphantly seated himself on Elladan’s back. “And what do you say now?” Legolas asked wickedly. “Do you need a lot of help or just some help?”

“Hardly any help.” Elladan returned. “Not from a princeling like you.”

Giving a mock outcry of rage, Legolas grabbed Elladan’s left wrist and pulled back, joining the wrists together towards the middle of the dark haired elf’s back.

“What say you now?” Legolas asked again.

“I say you are a spoiled princeling who always gets his way.” Elladan wheezed.

Easily taking both of Elladan’s wrists in one hand Legolas used the other take the clips out of the other’s hair.

“Are you having fun Legolas?” Lomion asked eyebrow raised with a grin playing on his lips. He could easily remember when Legolas had first learned that trick, much to the chagrin of Thalion who had been the first whom the trick had been played upon, right in front of his fellow warriors if Lomion remembered correctly.

Legolas had been about eleven, they had only recently returned from Rivendell and Legolas was rather sad coming home only to have no Nana waiting for him, so Lomion had taught him a trick.

And then told him how to use the trick properly so that Legolas could actually use it.

He had stood hidden by a tree and watched with glee as Legolas very easily carried the trick out on Thalion in full view of Thalion’s entire patrol. There were few warriors who did not look back on that memory and smiled.

“Do you yield?” Legolas asked.

Elladan’s hair was completely undone, since Legolas had pulled the clips holding Elladan’s hair out, and was hanging in the dark haired elf’s face.

“Lomion?” Elladan wheezed.

“Yes?”

“Why did you have to teach Legolas this?”

Lomion laughed. “Alright Legolas, enough.”

“He hasn’t yielded yet.” Legolas said with a devilish grin.

“I yield! I yield!” Elladan cried out.

With a laugh Legolas easily pulled himself up and off of Elladan’s back. Unable to resist, the young prince reached out and tousled the dark hair.

Elladan scowled playfully. “I hope you had your fun.” He teased. “Because I will get my revenge.”

“Sure you will.” Legolas taunted lightly, he leaned back, letting his head fall on the side of Lomion’s shoulder. He was tired, but was having too much fun to admit it.

“So what did my Adar find out?” Elladan asked.

“About what?” Legolas asked innocently.

He looked so young, half laying against his older brother, Elladan thought. As if the world had not touched him. And had there not been a slight shadow in the blue-gray eyes, Elladan could have easily believed it.

“You know exactly what I mean.” Elladan smiled.

Legolas blinked sleepily. “I do?” He yawned.

At Elladan’s raised eyebrow he amended his words. “I mean of course I do.” He grinned rather lopsidedly. His brain wasn’t really functioning quite well at the moment, but he pressed on.

“Your Adar found out that my.” Legolas yawned again. “Lungs aren’t working correctly again.” Another yawn. His eyes began to slowly slid shut, completely against his will. “But I’m not…” His voice slurred and his mind slowly went blank. “Not dying…”

Lomion and Elladan smiled at the still figure. And ever so gently, Lomion eased Legolas off of him and laid him down while Elladan retrieved a blanket and placed it over the sleeping prince.

Filing out the door behind Elladan, Lomion could not help but pause and turn around. It had always been a tradition that whoever tucked Legolas to sleep that the person would always place a kiss upon the fair brow.

When Legolas had asked why, he had been told that the kiss was a guardian against evil dreams and it would protect him. Though many an age had passed since Legolas had been a small child, Lomion could not help but smile, walk over and place a kiss upon his youngest brother’s brow.

“Peaceful dream little one.” He whispered.

He smiled and gently closed the door behind him.