This is it, folks! The not so long awaited epilogue is here. I want to thank again everyone who has read and everyone who not only read, but reviewed as well. You all made this a very positive experience and I sincerely thank each and every one of you for doing so.

Two more very special thanks: one to my awesome beta, Bev, thank you so very much, and two to Marianne, my sounding board, movie buddy, and co-worker, thanks for putting up with my artistic baloney and letting me run plot bunnies by you for second opinions.

And now, the epilogue!

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Minas Tirith was a beautiful city, as cities went, even with the depredations of the recent war. Legolas had been impressed, despite himself, when he had first gotten a good look at the city. It still impressed him, he who alternately longed for the sea and for the forests of his home, as he perched on the rail of the balcony high above the courtyard. From here he had an unobstructed view of the plains and would see anyone approaching long before they reached the city gates. There was no need for this, he knew. The citadel guards had everything well in hand, but wartime habits died hard, and he found himself unwilling to relax the vigilance to which he had become so accustomed.

He had been forever changed by the Quest. He would never again be the elf that had ridden into Rivendell to report Gollum’s escape. He feared that he would never again feel at home in his father’s halls. He feared most of all that the change in him would bring great pain to his father. Thranduil had lost his wife to an orc’s arrow when Legolas was but a babe, and now he would lose his only child to the call of the sea.

He would resist it as long as he could. He had already resolved to stay until Aragorn and Gimli had passed. They would be the longest lived of the Fellowship, save Mithrandir and himself. Unbreakable bonds had been forged between all the members of the Fellowship, but the strongest of these for Legolas were the existing bond with Aragorn that had only been strengthened by the trials they had endured and the new-found and equally strong bond that had formed between himself and Gimli. These two were as brothers to him and he would not be the one to sever those bonds. Only death would do that. He would stay until then.

He had also had a mystery solved for him. Mithrandir had pulled him aside while Aragorn was seeing to Frodo and Sam after their return from Mordor. He had discovered, during his sojourn at Isengard, that Saruman had been behind the attacks on Legolas and his father at Greenglade keep. He had sought to weaken the elves’ strength on Arda, and had seen eliminating the elven presence in Mirkwood as the means by which to accomplish that. He had mistakenly assumed that Thranduil would be an easier target than Elrond or Galadriel. Knowing Legolas as he did, Mithrandir had chosen to wait until everything was over to tell him, so as not to cause him alarm or distract him. Legolas had to admit, reluctantly, that he had been correct in this. Mithrandir had also assured him that he would send word to Thranduil detailing his discoveries.

Legolas forced himself to relax, willed himself not to wallow in his melancholy. Behind him, he heard the light-hearted chatter of the youngest of the hobbits and the rumbling response of the dwarf. A slight smile graced his fair face. Leave it to Pippin to ease his mood. He turned his attention back to the tower room and his brothers- in -arms.

“Well, now I suppose she might come at that, Gimli. After all, Lady Arwen is her granddaughter.” Pippin looked up as Legolas stepped back into the room. “Legolas, do you think that Lady Galadriel might come for the wedding?”

“I would think so, Pippin, unless she was somehow prevented.” The corner of his mouth twitched almost imperceptibly. He refused to tease Gimli about the dwarf’s infatuation with the lady of the Golden Wood, but he could not help being amused. Pippin nodded, encouraged.

“There, Gimli, you see? I bet that she’ll be here.” The dwarf looked very uncomfortable and Legolas took pity on him.

“Pippin, has there been any word on when Arwen and her family might be expected?” Legolas’ question set Pippin to relating rumors and gossip and Gimli shot Legolas a grateful look. Legolas gave him a slight smile in return. Very shortly after that, Pippin’s stomach reminded him that it was time for tea and he departed, leaving the elf and the dwarf alone.

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“All right, lad, something’s been bothering you all day. Will you talk to me or will I have to take my axe to you?” Gimli’s concern was couched in humor. He knew from experience that this was the best way to get Legolas to unburden himself without raising the elf’s considerable defenses. The elf frowned, and then sighed and sank down onto one of the tattered, but comfortable chairs that he and Gimli had appropriated and dragged into the room.

“Gimli, it is nothing that can be remedied. It must simply be endured.” Legolas stared down at his own hands, unwilling to meet the dwarf’s gaze. Gimli nodded abruptly.

“Aye, I thought as much. You’ve had that ‘lost’ look about you. You only do that when the sea longing is troubling you.” He moved to Legolas’ side and gripped the elf‘s shoulder. “Well, we can’t cure it, but we can drown it out a bit. Let’s join the hobbits for their tea. If they can’t make you laugh, nothing will. No arguments, now, come on with you.” Gimli hauled him to his feet and propelled him to the door. Chuckling in spite of himself, Legolas acquiesced.

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The remaining members of the Fellowship saw to it that Legolas had little time to brood over the next few days. Aragorn needed his counsel on this matter or that, the hobbits waylaid him for various reasons, and Gimli made certain he ate and insisted on teaching him a complicated game involving colored stones and an equally brightly colored slab of wood. Legolas was unsure as to whether he should strangle the lot of them, or be profoundly grateful that they cared so deeply. He tended toward the latter, but refused to admit it to the dwarf.

He had managed to slip away from everyone and had ascended to the roof of one of the higher towers. He lay on his back, watching the clouds and thinking of nothing in particular. The sea longing was still there, an ever-present whisper in the back of his mind, but it was quieter this day.

He needed solitude, needed to clear his mind, to prepare to be among elves again. He was so used to being in the presence of men and hobbits, not to mention Mithrandir and Gimli, that he felt disoriented at the thought of being in the company of elves once more. While he was looking forward to seeing Arwen and her brothers again, he was nervous about seeing Lord Elrond and Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn. Their sharp eyes would surely see his affliction, as he called it, and he had no desire to answer questions or be counseled. He wished only to enjoy what he could and endure what he must. It would be difficult enough to face his father, knowing that Thranduil would also see what troubled him with the first glance. He did not wish to go through it with anyone else.

It was at times like this that he missed his father the most. As much as he dreaded giving Thranduil yet another reason for sadness, he wished for nothing more than just to be in his father’s presence, that somehow everything would just be made right if Thranduil were there. Intellectually, he knew it for folly, that what had been done could not be undone, but still he wished it.

Firmly restraining himself from wallowing in fruitless wishes and self-pity, he cleared his mind and forced himself to relax. He watched the clouds drift by, eventually drifting into reverie and losing all track of time.

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Aragorn Elessar stood on the dais in the Citadel’s throne room, flanked by Faramir and Pippin. He was unaccountably nervous. He had faced orcs, wraiths, and the army of the dead without flinching, but found his hands shaking at the thought of seeing his beloved and her father, his foster father. He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, willing himself to be calm. Pippin gave him a puzzled look, but for once said nothing. Faramir merely smiled and clasped his shoulder briefly before turning his attention back towards the doors that were now opening.

The elves filed in, dignified as always and formalities and pleasantries were exchanged, but Aragorn was only dimly aware of them. His mouth moved of its own accord, greeting his guests and replying to gracious comments from them. From the moment she had come into view, Arwen had occupied all his attention. After a few hazy minutes, he shook himself back to the matter at hand. His eyes swept the delegation, pausing for a moment before coming back to Arwen.

The formalities dispensed with, the delegation was invited to adjourn to a more private area where wine and food were waiting. Aragorn caught Faramir’s eye and indicated that he should accompany the delegation. Faramir nodded and smoothly did as his king desired. Aragorn quickly pulled Pippin aside.

“Pippin, do you know where Legolas is today?” he asked the hobbit in a soft voice.

“No, but I bet Gimli will. Shall I fetch him?” The hobbit was fairly vibrating with excitement.

“Yes, please tell him I need him here.” Aragorn wore a wide grin. Pippin’s curiosity was obviously piqued, but he had learned better than to ask questions when action was required. He bowed to Aragorn and left to carry out his mission. Aragorn hurried after his guests, the smile still on his face.

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Legolas came back to awareness with a start. Voices drifted up from the balcony below him.

“Legolas! Legolas, are you up there?”

“Blasted elf, haul your skinny arse down here! You’re needed, although Aule only knows why.”

Legolas stretched, climbed nimbly down to the edge of the roof and dropped lightly onto the balcony in front of Gimli. The dwarf jumped back, startled and glared at Legolas when the elf laughed merrily.

“Peace, mellon-nin! What do you need of me?” Legolas could not help the grin that still graced his fair face. Gimli snorted, eliciting another laugh from his elven friend.

“I need nothing, you beardless tree-hugger.” Legolas laughed again, and Gimli permitted himself a slight smile. “’Tis Aragorn who needs you.”

“Lady Arwen is here, and there’s a whole lot of elves with her, not just her kin. I expect he needs you for that, though he didn’t say exactly,” Pippin chimed in. Legolas sighed and rolled his eyes. He hated playing politics and the formality involved with diplomacy and well Aragorn knew it.

“He will owe me for this. He knows I hate this sort of thing.” His expression lightened then and he turned to Gimli, bowing in the most facetious manner possible. “I bid you farewell, oh mighty cleaver of rocks! I go to the aid of the king.” It was Gimli’s turn to laugh. They delighted in insulting one another, each deriving great amusement at the other’s wit. He clapped Gimli on the shoulder affectionately and then turned to Pippin. “Lead the way, Master Took.”

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Pippin led him to one of the antechambers of the throne room. The guards stationed there redirected them to Elessar’s private study. Pippin seemed to take this in stride, but it puzzled Legolas. The matter must be a serious one if Aragorn wished to speak with him in private first.

When they reached the door, Pippin knocked and Elessar’s voice bade them enter. Pippin bowed to Elessar and the king thanked him with a smile and then met Legolas’ eyes for a moment. Legolas’ puzzlement increased. Elessar certainly did not look troubled. If anything, his expression was reminiscent of the one he had worn as a child when he was up to his ears in mischief. The elf opened his mouth to say as much when a whisper of movement to his right caught his attention. He turned and froze, his words dying on his lips.

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Pippin blinked in surprise. He had not noticed the presence of the strange elf until Legolas turned and stared at him, his shock plain for any to see. The stranger stared back at Legolas, as if cataloging the archer’s features down to the last strand of his hair. Suddenly, the stranger’s mouth curved in a smile and the expression in his flint-hued eyes softened. An identical smile formed on Legolas’ face and he spoke a single word.

“Ada.”

The stranger’s smile widened and he opened his arms. Legolas fairly flew across the space separating them, throwing himself into his father’s arms.

Elessar laid a hand on Pippin’s shoulder and the hobbit jumped. The king chuckled softly and guided Pippin through the door ahead of him, shutting it quietly behind them.

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Thranduil held his son tightly, the dread he had felt for months fading quickly now that his beloved child was in his arms. He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, releasing the last of his dark fears with it. Legolas shifted, tightening his grip on Thranduil for a moment, and then stepped back. Thranduil held him at arm’s length, wanting to take a good look at him, but not willing to release his hold just yet. He met his son’s eyes, and was shocked to see Legolas flinch and look away quickly. He raised a hand to his son’s cheek, drawing Legolas’ eyes back to his again.

“The sea calls you.” It was not a question. Legolas winced and nodded, biting his lower lip.

“Yes. Ada, I …..,” he faltered, unsure of himself. Thranduil’s hand cupped his cheek.

“It is all right, ion-nin. I was warned of this, as you were. It is not unexpected.” He drew Legolas into his arms again. Legolas rested his forehead on his father’s shoulder, drawing strength from him.

“I will not sail until the last of the Fellowship passes into Mandos’ Halls. I will not break the bonds that have formed between us.” His voice was slightly muffled by Thranduil’s shoulder. His father stroked his hair lightly.

“This, too, I expected. I knew that you would not leave Estel.” He paused a moment, and then continued,” Know this, then. I have decided to sail at such time as I am no longer needed in Eryn Lasgalen.” Legolas lifted his head up to look at him, shocked. Thranduil chuckled. “This surprises you? It should not. More and more of our people leave for the Havens every month. Some will stay, but soon they will be so few in number that they will no longer have need of a king. I have friends in Valinor already, and more will go there soon. Elrond will sail very soon now, as will Galadriel. What Celeborn will do, I cannot say, nor do I know what Elrond’s sons will do. Your Naneth’s parents sailed long ago, and her sister will leave soon, probably when Galadriel does. Had you decided to stay here, I would have as well, but that is no longer at issue.” He smiled and touched his forehead to Legolas’. “I am so very proud of you, Legolas.”

Legolas gripped Thranduil’s shoulders tightly for a moment, and then stepped back, a mischievous smile on his face.

“Come, Ada. I would introduce you to the remaining Fellowship.” He drew his father to the door of the study. “Oh, and Ada, please be polite to the dwarf. He is my friend.”