Disclaimer: Not mine, darn it! No profit is being made.

A/N: I have little experience with funerals, so I beg your indulgence in this chapter. I have seen several fanfic writers’ interpretations of elven funeral rites, but this is my take on what the Silvan elves might do. Once again, it is my opinion alone and is not to be taken as canon.

Lord Celeborn had seen many strange and unlikely things in his long life, but the sight of an infant elf with the remains of a berry pie covering his face playing peek-a-boo with an Istari’s beard ranked among the strangest and unlikeliest. Despite the somber circumstances that had prompted his presence in Mirkwood, Celeborn chuckled aloud. Mithrandir’s eyes met his and in them the lord of Lorien could see deep sorrow as well as amusement at the little one’s antics. Arwen crossed the distance between them to hug him and he returned the embrace, dropping a kiss on his granddaughter’s brow. His chuckle caused the elfling to stop his game and stare at the newcomer.

“Hello, Legolas. It is good to meet you at last,” the tall, silver-haired lord said to his young cousin. The elfling ducked back under the wizard’s beard, hiding shyly. “Odd, I am certain that I saw an elfling here a moment ago. Where could he have gone?” Celeborn said, prompting a giggle from under the wizard’s beard. “Granddaughter, did my eyes deceive me?” Another giggle came from under the beard. “Well, then I suppose I shall have to go look in the stables, since it is obvious that there is no elfling here.” Another giggle and the beard was flung aside.

“Yegyas here!” the elfling cried, beaming at the elf lord playing his game with him.

“Well, so you are, little cousin,” the lord of the Golden Wood agreed, reaching out to tickle a small tummy. The elfling chortled, wriggling to escape the tickling fingers. Celeborn leaned forward until his nose was nearly touching the little one’s nose. “You have a very dirty face. Did the pie taste good?”

“Good,” Legolas agreed, grinning. “Some? Me some?” He held out his sticky hand towards the table, clearly reaching for the remainder of the pie.

“I believe you have already had some pie, Legolas, but I doubt it would hurt for you to have just a little bit more.” Celeborn sliced a generous piece of the pie, deftly sliding it onto a clean plate. “Shall we share?” The elfling leaned forward, opening his mouth like a baby bird. “I will take that to mean ‘yes’,” the lord of the Golden Wood said with a chuckle.

~

Celeborn stretched his long legs out, slumping in his chair in a most undignified manner. It had been a horrid, wrenching day and he was glad to see the end of it, even though tomorrow would be worse. He contemplated the empty wine goblet in his hand, debating with himself as to whether or not it would be worth the effort to walk across the room to refill it. He decided that it was not, and set the goblet on the small table next to his chair.

After he had finished sharing berry pie with his young cousin, he, Arwen, and Mithrandir had taken the elfling into the gardens so that he could burn off his excess energy. There they had remained until dark fell and the elfling climbed up into Arwen’s lap, yawning and rubbing his eyes. She carried the little prince off to his bedchamber, and checked in on her father before rejoining her grandfather and the Istari in Celeborn’s chamber.

It was much later that both the wizard and the elleth sought their own chambers, and Celeborn reflected that they were no closer to divining a solution to assisting Thranduil without wounding his stubborn pride. The elf lord rubbed his eyes wearily. Perhaps Elrond would be able to work his way through this thorny puzzle with his usual finesse. Certainly Thranduil seemed to pay more heed to the lord of Imladris than he did most others, even if he took pains to hide that fact.

Sighing deeply, the sliver-haired lord rose from his seat and moved toward his bedchamber, shedding his robes as he went. He dropped them carelessly on the floor, something he would never have done in his own home. My lady would take strips out of my hide, he reflected with a tired but wry grin, I will pick them up when I awaken. Morning will come too soon as it is.

He turned on his side, as he would have were he in his own chambers with his lady, missing her warmth beside him. He would have given much for her presence, her calm and insight. They would be returning Valilis to the forest in the morning. He had no doubt that Thranduil would bear the ceremony as befit his position, but the aftermath worried him. His cousin had a reputation for being cold and emotionless save for anger, but Celeborn knew better. He had watched Thranduil from infancy, and he knew what the younger elf’s public façade hid. Once again he thanked Iluvatar for blessing his cousin with fatherhood. That along with his responsibility to his kingdom would hold him to life and to this side of the sea.

He rolled onto his back again, unable to get comfortable on his side without his wife tucked in his embrace. He sent another prayer of thanks that his daughter had survived her ordeal to sail to Valinor and that his wife was whole and with him still before he sought his dreams.

~

The halls of the stronghold were silent as its inhabitants filed out behind their king, who followed the bier his wife’s body lay on. Thranduil was once again composed, but the strain of the last few days was apparent to those who knew him well in the pallor of his skin and the set of his eyes and mouth. He carried his son in his arms. The elfling, aware of his father’s grief, was unusually subdued and quiet. Elrond and Celeborn flanked Thranduil, followed by the queen’s parents, the wizard, and Elrond’s daughter. The rest of the procession followed after, silent until they reached the place their king had chosen for their queen to be returned to the forest.

At the foot of a stately beech, the elves bearing the queen’s bier set it down gently and began singing softly as they wrapped her body in the silk cloth that she lay on. They covered her from foot to neck and then stepped back to allow Thranduil and her parents their farewells. The king motioned for Teluial and Belegdur to approach first and waited while they sang their lament. When they stepped back, Thranduil placed Legolas into Arwen’s arms and stepped forward to sing his farewell, allowing his tears to stream down his face as he sang.

When his song ended, he opened the silk wrappings just enough to allow him to place a braid of his hair and a blanket that belonged to his son inside. He drew the silk up to cover the queen’s face and stepped back. The six bearers moved forward again, lifted the queen’s body from the bier, and reverently placed her into her grave, melting into the crowd of mourners as soon as they done so. The seneschal came forward then.

“Valilis, our beloved queen, wife of our king, mother of our prince, daughter of Belegdur and Teluial resides now in Mandos’ halls. May she find peace and rest there until she is released. We return this container that held her bright spirit to the forest, so that the trees may be as nourished by her hroa as we have been by her fea. Let us sing now of our queen and hold her in our hearts forevermore.”

As one, the woodland elves began to sing filing past the grave as they did, each placing a stone upon it to build the cairn. Thranduil placed the last stone and a group of elves came forward bearing containers of earth, with which they covered the stones. Seeds of the red and yellow flowers that grew by the river came next, for it was the tradition of the Silvan elves to cover the resting places of the ones they lost to battle or accident with beautiful blooms, the better to honor the beauty of the spirits of their departed ones.

One by one, the mourners drifted away, back to their homes until only the king and his son, the queen’s parents and their lord, Imladris’ lord and his daughter, the wizard, and Thranduil’s assistant remained. Celeborn placed one arm around Teluial and the other around Belegdur and guided them back into the stronghold. Arwen took Legolas back from his father and followed her grandfather. Mithrandir bowed his head, speaking a few words too softly for anyone else to hear before he, too returned to the stronghold. Elrond and Luinloth exchanged a look behind Thranduil’s back before they both wrapped an arm around the grieving king and drew him back toward his halls.

A/N: I’m sorry it’s so short, but I can only do so much depressing writing at one time. Heather, you requested this so I dedicate this chapter to you. Thank you so much for the monitor that made this possible!