Thanks must be given to my new beta Quinn for doing an excellent job.  Also to all of you who kept on me about continuing this, I appreciate your encouragement.

Coonzalas – LOL  Thanks for reading!  But give poor Thranduil a chance I swear he will come around.

Sparx – And I’m so sorry it takes me forever to update.  Thank you so much for all your support and kind words.

Andunea – Credit goes to you for lighting a fire under my backside.  Thanks for your review, it inspired me to pick this up and write again.

Now on to the chapter, I hope you enjoy and review.

Songbird

Chapter 8 – Saying Goodbye

King Thranduil’s outcry of unmitigated sadness and painful regret echoed through the dense cloud of dust and soot induced by the massive amounts of earth converging.

Elf and man alike bowed their heads, many dropped to a knee, in reverence of the dead.  An imposing silence penetrated many to the core, when out of the stillness arose a voice of single purpose.

Tranquil was the lament of Lord Isál as his lyric testified to the life of Legolas, elfling prince of Greenwood the Great.  His melody so pure, the humans could feel the meaning of the words.  Melody gave way to harmony, as Lord Isál’s tenor soared through the air, uniting with the bass voice of another.  Two voices became three as a baritone blended with the tune.  Within minutes, all the warriors of Greenwood lent voice in tribute to an immortal soul lost too soon, their chorus so magnificent the very skies began to weep.

The deluge would not deter the stoic elves from their valediction to the young prince.  Each warrior uttered silent prayers to the Valar that their homage would guide Legolas to the great Halls of Mandos where he would be admitted and welcomed by others whose lights had been extinguished too soon, many of whom had been his heroes.

It was only after a fitting tribute was paid that the crescendo of their melodic eulogy abated, the echo of each voice sailing with the wind until once again only Isál’s voice could be heard.

King Thranduil stood, pulling his cloak tightly around himself, as if that single piece of cloth contained all the regal bearing he would need to make it through this tragedy.  The King spoke briefly with Rercyn, then both companies retreated from the empty sadness of the clearing.  The king spoke to no one else as he led his warriors home.

Lord Isál lingered a moment longer, the failure evident in his eyes.  Rising, he mounted his horse, riding behind the company, knowing that he would carry out the banishment upon himself.  He had given his word to his king that Legolas would be safe and his failure would haunt him throughout his immortal life.

**********

Dawn broke with a palpable sadness.  Randil, still recovering in the Halls of Healing, took a deep breath as he tried to release his pent-up frustrations.  He did not wish to be coddled; he wanted to be out there searching for Legolas.  His next breath caught in his throat as he thought of losing his best and only friend before the adventures of their lives had really begun.

Elariand entered the room not long after, smiling at Randil, a knowing look in his eye.  Approaching the bed, the healer checked the restless young warrior’s progress.  The wound could have been fatal had it not been treated, but the healer was now convinced of a complete recovery.

“Anarandil, I see no reason for you to remain in convalescence.  If you would kindly hold onto the tiny string of patience you have left, I’ll send for your Ammë and you may return to your home.  You must however continue to rest and come see me everyday so I can check your progress.”

Randil nodded his head eagerly and the healer laughed at the look on his young patient’s face.  He sent word to inform Randil’s Ammë that she was welcome to take him home.

Knowing he still needed to rest and take it easy, his Ammë had tried to keep from him all that she knew, but it was to no avail.  Animosity was still elevated against the young Lothlorien elf, but his loyalty could not be questioned, as he was the first to the gates when it was reported that the rescue party was returning.  As a crowd gathered around him, he ignored them all, waiting for a glimpse of his friend.

The gates slowly opened, and with each inch Randil could feel a vice gripping his heart.  *Why are the warriors so quiet?*  Randil thought to himself.

As the king entered the gates, his head held high, Randil knew.  He watched in terror as the warriors passed and the crowd stood in anguished astonishment.  Sinking to his knees, Randil watched as Lord Isál entered last, the look on his master’s face solidifying what he did not need to be told.  Legolas was dead.

**********

Elriowiel and Tiniwiel watched from the palace as the company progressed through the gates.  Elriowiel was sincerely surprised that Legolas was not present, her heart recoiling from the implications.  Clutching the hand of her daughter, they hastened to the throne room, the visage of each present burning into Elriowiel’s very being.  “Legolas?”  Her eyes pleaded with her husband.  She reached out, placing a shaking hand on his chest.  “Thranduil, where is my son?”

Thranduil signaled for the room to empty.  Bowing in respect to their king, their departure was swift, not one of them registering the significance of the moment.  For the first time since Teril’s death and Legolas’ birth, the entire royal family stood in one room, together but not united.

Thranduil’s eyes were deep pools of pain as he met his wife’s gaze.  “I am so sorry.”

“Damn you.”  She pounded her fists into his chest.  “You always hated him and you let him die.”

The words pierced his heart, but he did not blame her for them.  He did not willingly let Legolas die, nor did he ‘hate’ his youngest son.  But in his heart, he knew that he was not the Adar his son deserved.

“No love, I did not let him die.”  He looked once again into her tear-filled eyes his own tears blurring his vision.  “Even if I had ‘hated’ him as you say, I would have sacrificed my life for his, just so you would be happy.”

As she collapsed into his arms, heartbroken once again, Rowyn and Anaran stood in the shadows, also feeling a deep sense of guilt for having not given Legolas a chance.  Tiniwiel sat in a crumpled heap on the floor, tormented by the loss of the brother she held so dear.

**********

Word spread quickly through the gathered masses as to all that had transpired.  Soon the words ‘Teril’ and ‘human’ were once again heard and the old tragedy was afresh with new speculation.

No one gave heed to the outsider still on his knees at the great gates, unmoving and unwanted.  None of the gossip around him penetrated his pain until he heard mention of Lord Isál and the imminent banishment.

*So I will lose my teacher also,* his thoughts whirled in his head.  *But they did not bring back a body.  Maybe, just maybe.*

Deciding his course of action, Randil quickly slipped out the massive gates.  He was quite certain his disappearance would go unnoticed by all but one, and sadly, he was correct.  The one, however, had been watching him, keeping distance and vigil, knowing her young son would be making the decisions far beyond his years.  She wasn’t surprised as she watched him leave.

The rain had not diminished the trail left by the horses and it seemed to beckon him forward.  His own safety was of no concern as he followed the path, his need to find his friend drawing him out of the protection of his home.