Epilogue

Laughter danced amidst the trees as Legolas pledged his life, love and happiness to his bride. She had light brown hair and sapphire eyes that danced merrily. She had lived, protected within the safe borders of Lothlorien in Middle Earth, born only three years after Legolas had been. She too had suffered a life full of loss. Her father had died in the battle of Helm’s Deep and her mother had quickly left for the Valinor after that. Two of her brothers died in the defense of Lothlorien, and she watched her sister slowly fade from grief after her husband died. Her surviving brother had taken her sail and there he told her that he was going to live with Prince Legolas in the land of Ithilien.

She had been forced to live on her own for several years before her parents had come from the Halls of Mandos. She was well known, well respected and well liked. She made her trade by making clothes for the wealthier elves, and all of the women in Legolas’ family had often bought dresses from her.

Tawariell her name was, translated in to western it would be girl of the forest. Legolas had taken more than a few ribbings about the meaning of her name, but he took them all lightheartedly and usually with a foolish grin on his face.

They had meet quite by accident. Loriel had been behind in her party plans and had told (“Ordered actually.” Legolas would tell you) to pick up her dress from Tawariell’s. Legolas had rolled his eyes, but dutifully went as asked. (“Ordered!”)

They had quickly become friends, the two finding a lot of common ground in their own struggles. Tawariell found a home with Thranduil and Lalaith, the two easily reminding her of her own parents still in the Halls of Mandos. And much to Legolas’ delight, his parents adored her, as well as all of Legolas’ siblings.

Elladan and Elrohir took much delight in teasing their friend about Tawariell, but Legolas would simply reply. “Just wait until you find the right one for each of you.”

Indeed there were few who did not delight in the match.

And so, they were married beneath the blossoming apple trees, the bride blushing as she smiled at her new husband. As the evening wore on, Thranduil snuck his youngest son away.

The crickets chirped merrily in the tall grass as father and son quietly slipped between trees and up to a secluded spot on a high cliff. A light breeze played with their blonde hair as they watched the waves crash on the rocks far below.

“Tell me your thoughts.” Thranduil requested.

Legolas sighed. “As happy as I am, I still wish that Aragorn, Arwen, all of my friends were here to help celebrate.” He chuckled. “Gimli would tease me at finding Tawariell, Eomer…” Legolas blushed.

Thranduil laughed. He could remember well the blonde haired Horse lord. There was a wry recklessness in Eomer’s blue eyes that had reminded Thranduil of a certain few of his children.

“Arwen, Ewoyn and the other ladies would have helped Tawariell with the wedding plans.” Legolas sighed. “But, the past is still the past, and as much as I wish it were different, I am glad that I at least still have my family by my side.”

Thranduil simply smiled as he held his youngest to his chest, a secretive smile that held a world of promise. But, unfortunately for Legolas, who didn’t see the smile, the secret would remain as that. A secret. Kept in four immortal hearts, and begging to be released.

But the time was not ready, nor would it be for several more years.

And then, perhaps… Just perhaps… Legolas would get his wish after all.

But that is another tale, for another time.

The End

A/N: I never thought I would ever marry off Legolas... But it seemed, well right you could say. :-) Hopefully it won't offend to many people...