This, And My Heart Beside *added ch. 20/part 1*

CHAPTER 16

On the day of the Mirkwood Elves’ departure for home, Legolas came to a most important decision. After an exceptionally emotional farewell to Tyrion and Anylinde, he and Isalith sat astride their horses, patiently waiting while Belorfilad and Uriong parted ways once again.

Stealing a glance backward, Legolas choked back a lump in his throat, at the sight of the two Captains locked in a desperate embrace, silent and unmoving, simply holding fast to each other as if their lives depended upon it. The Mirkwood Prince faced forward again, deep in thought. After a moment, his jaw set in resolution, he smiled to himself, a little. The decision had been made.

Turning back his horse, he quietly rode to where the royal couple stood and dismounted to converse with them. Tyrion and Anylinde asked several questions, which were answered to their satisfaction by the blonde Prince, and after several moments, they smiled and nodded in pleasure. Uriong and Belorfilad had broken their embrace in the meantime, and stood watching the conference with curiosity.

The King turned to the Captains and gestured to them. “Uriong, Belorfilad, may I have a word with you both?” They immediately answered the summons, and stood before Tyrion in expectation.

“Uriong,” the King began, “I must ask a favor of you. Will you ride with the Mirkwood party, on their passage home? I would be most grateful to you.”

The Ilandrian Captain’s eyes flickered in surprise, but he quickly recovered and bowed his head in reverence. Touching his heart, he replied, “Of course, my King, anything you wish.”

Tyrion nodded his thanks before turning to the Captain of the Mirkwood Guard. “Good Belorfilad, this is in no way a judgment of your ability to protect my son,” he laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “I have my reasons for this request, which will be made known to you when you reach your destination.”

“Of course, Majesty,” the blonde warrior replied. “It will be no hardship, riding beside your Captain, I assure you,” he added with a mischievous smile.

Tyrion leaned in toward him and winked, whispering in a conspiratorial tone, “I thought not.”

After one last farewell, the group departed at a moderate pace. They rode in silence for some time, before Belorfilad fell back from the front of the line to trot beside Legolas. The Prince kept his eyes forward, deliberately avoiding the questioning gaze of his friend and protector.

After several moments of riding under the unwavering stare of the blonde Captain, Legolas turned to him, his eyes innocent. “Is anything wrong, Belorfilad?” he asked in concern.

His azure eyes dancing in amusement, Belorfilad smiled wryly, one corner of his mouth turning up. “I cannot yet say, until I learn what you are about and what mischief you are planning.”

Legolas laughed aloud at that, and placed an affectionate hand on the Captain’s broad shoulder. “No mischief, my friend. I give you my word. It will make you very happy, I dare say.”

Still smiling, Belorfilad shook his head doubtfully, before riding forward to rejoin Uriong. Isalith reached over to clasp Legolas’ hand and raise it to his lips. He knew *exactly* what his beloved was about, and he approved wholeheartedly. Both Captains would be ecstatic, he wastaintain of it. His smile faded then, as he realized something else.

For quite some time, his dear love would be very sad.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


The party’s arrival in Mirkwood, several days later, had prompted a warm and teary reunion. Hil-Gamir, Belorfilad’s second-in-command, had seen the approaching group first, and sent a young guard to the palace to fetch the King and Queen.

As the returning travelers neared the training field, every Elf present ceased his battle practice, and rushed to greet them. The group dismounted amid many a heartfelt “welcome home”, and tidbits of news were exchanged. The visiting Prince and Captain were hailed affectionately, and Hilir rir remarked, with a mischievous smile, that the sea air still seemed to agree with Belorfilad. He was perfectly aware, as were all of the Guards, of the true reason for the sparkle in the commander’s azure eyes, and they all wished him every happiness.

“Legolas!” All eyes turned to see the King and Queen approaching across the training field.

“Ada, Naneth!” Legolas ran to meet them, and was immediately gathered up into his father’s strong arms.

Rocking slowly back and forth, Thranduil held him tightly. “Legolas, my son, we have missed you so,” he whispered. Legolas returned his father’s embrace, clinging to him in utter contentment.

“As I have missed you,” he replied. “*All* of you,” he added reassuringly, as he smiled at Naniel and released his hold on his father. The Queen stood patiently aside, waiting her turn to welcome her son home, her lovely blue eyes misting with emotion.

The Prince rushed to his mother’s arms and hugged her gently. He felt as if he, too, might weep with the joy of being with his family again. Thranduil turned to one of the young Guards, and quietly asked him to fetch the Princess Hania from the stables, where she was observing the grooming of her horse. He departed immediately.

The King looked on with a tender smile, as Naniel held her son’s face in her hands, kissing every inch of it, until Legolas giggled and hugged her more tightly, lifting her off the ground.

“You grow stronger everyday!” she marveled, laughing breathlessly as she rested her hands on Legolas’ shoulders.

“No longer your little elfling?” her son asked teasingly, even as he smiled sadly and set her carefully upon the ground.

Naniel gazed up at him seriously. “No matter the number of their years, or the greatness of their strength, my children shall *always* be my precious elflings.”

Legolas grinned broadly at that, satisfied. “I brought visitors,” he informed her, as his eyes flickered to where Isalith and Uriong stood beside their horses, watching the reunion with warm smiles.

Thranduil wheeled around to look at them; he exchanged mortified glances with his Queen, and together they approached the two visitors.

“Isalith, Uriong, please forgive us ..... and Belorfilad,” he added upon seeing the trusted Captain of his Guard. “We were so overjoyed to see Legolas, that we saw nothing else.”

The Ilandrian Prince, along with the two Captains, dismounted, smiling. “As you should be, uncle,” he said reassuringly, addressing Thranduil by the term of endearment he had used since childhood. In fact, both Isalith and Legolas had long considered each other’s families to be an extension of their own. The raven-haired Prince clasped Thranduil to him affectionately, before turning his attention to Naniel.

“Isalith, can that truly be you?” the Queen asked in amazement.

He grinned, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “Aye, ‘tis truly me, and not as changedyou you may think.”

“I would never have recognized him,” a soft sweet voice came from behind the spot where Thranduil stood.

“Hania!” Legolas cried as he spun around to face her.

“Welcome home, gwanur,” she smiled sweetly, and stepped forward. Legolas was taken aback by the changes in his beloved sister. In the two months he had been away, she had grown in stature, her face having lost much of its babyish plumpness. And although he was loathe to admit to himself that Hania was no longer the tiny doll he used to carry in his arms, he was stunned by her blossoming beauty. The only sign of the child she had been when Legolas had departed for Ilandros, was the spark of humor and mischief that still shone in her lavender eyes. Deep dimples perched at the corners of her lips, as if she forever suppressed an urge to break forth in joyful laughter.

Legolas dropped to his knees and held out his arms. “Well?” he grinned. “Will you make me wait forever? Come here!”

And now Hania did laugh, as she launched herself into her brother’s embrace. They held tighto eto each other.

“Are you all right, Legolas?” she whispered in her brother’s ear. “You look different.”

“*I* look different?” the Prince laughed incredulously. “I hardly knew you.” He drew back to look more closely at his sister’s face.

Hania flushed slightly under his scrutiny, and looked down at the ground. Legolas gently took her chin in his hand and raised her face. “Yes, dove, I am all right; and yes, I *am* different. I will explain everything to you and Ada and Nh veh very soon. But first tell me, is all well with you?”

She smiled knowingly; it was just like her dear brother, to worry about her. Placing her small hands on the sides of his face, she kissed his forehead. “Yes,” she assured him simply.

Raising her eyes to look over the top of his head, Hania whispered to Legolas, “But that can *not* be Isalith!”

“It is, indeed,” he replied, chuckling. “You were very, very small when last you saw him. Why do you not go and greet him?” he suggested.

The Elven Princess nodded and slowly walked toward the raven-haired Prince. They had been sending each other messages occasionally, over the years. But corresponding with someone and seeing them in the flesh after a long seperation, were two entirely different things. Hania still pictured Isalith as the young boy who, though always sweet, sometimes teased her, and she could not reconcile her memories with the tall, beautiful, bronze-skinned Prince who stood smiling down at her now.

“Isalith?” she asked hesitantly. He lowered himself to one knee before her and took her hands gently in his own.

“Aye,” a dazzling smile lit his handsome face, “’tis me, little bird.”

Although she did not recognize the deep timbre of his voice, she would know those eyes anywhere; the dark, slate-gray irises, sprinkled with flecks of brilliant color, were like no other. Hania grinned and hugged him tightly.

As the royal family and its guests walked toward the palace, Legolas turned to Thranduil. “Ada,” he said seriously, “I must speak with you and Naneth, when you have a moment.”

The King looked at him thoughtfully, wondering at the reason for his son’s grave tone. He nodded, placing an arm around Legolas’ shoulders. “Of course, ion-en,” he replied. “Let us speak now.”

Thranduil ushered Legolas, Isalith, and Naniel into a small, intimate sitting room, furnished which comfortable chairs and a magnificent fireplace, framed in gilt scrollwork. They sat facing each other, and the King and Queen waited patiently for Legolas to begin. He sat for several moments, his eyes cast down at the floor, as he clearly struggled for words.

Finally, Naniel reached out to touch Legolas’ hand reainglingly. “My darling, whatever it is, surely you know that you can speak to us about *anything*.”

His blonde head snapped up, as he looked at his mother and father, stricken. “Oh yes, Naneth, I have always known that. But what I have to tell you is very … significant; and I know not where to begin.”

“Say it, my son,” Thranduil said encouragingly, and now he reached across to gently squeeze the Prince’s shoulder. Then he smiled and shrugged. “Just say it.”

Isalith and Legolas sat together on a wine velvet lounge with large, rounded arms at both ends. It sat two comfortably, yet was small enough that the two were pressed together, their legs touching. Isalith had inconspicuously worked his arm behind his lover when they sat, and now he caressed the small of his back supportively.

Legolas smiled softly at the gesture, and looked purposefully into the eyes of his mother and father.

“I am in love.” He spoke it quietly, but the joy in his voice was palpable. Naniel raiser grr graceful hands to her lips, as her eyes crinkled happily, and a slow smile spread across the lips of her husband. But before either could speak, Legolas continued.

“There is something that I have never confided in either of you, and I pray you will forgive me. ‘Tis not that I wanted to keep secrets from you, but …… I feared that something was wrong with me.”

Thranduil and Naniel frowned in concern at this, but the Prince plunged ahead.

“For many years now, I have been grappling with an aching emptiness in my heart, but I could not put a name to it until rather recently. I felt … incomplete. I longed for the one who would make me whole; longed for it so strongly, that it kept me awake on many nights, although I knew not who this ‘one’ would be. I did not wish to worry either of you, so I kept it hidden as best I could, and it was agony, at times. I tell you this now, in the hopes that you will understand why I sometimes seemed difficult or withdrawn, in earlier years. Please do not feel hurt or betrayed, I beg of you; I’ve kept nothing else from you, I give you my word.” Legolas stopped and looked tentatively at his mother and father.

Naniel smiled lovingly, her blue eyes shining with sympathy. Thranduil gazed at the floor silently, deep in contemplation. He raised his golden head to look intently into the eyes of his only son.

“My son,” he said softly, “you have my deepest admiration. *I* was never able to hide it from *my* father.”

Legolas shook his head slowly, confused. “Ada, what …?” he broke off.

The King reached out to place a hand on his son’s knee. “Forgive me, ion. What you felt was something quite normal for the males of our line. I should have told you of this before now, but I never dreamt the need would arise so soon. I experienced it, my father before me, and so on, back to the first Elf in our bloodline. Some of our ancestors referred to it as “Delariand’s Curse”.”

Turning to Naniel, Thranduil smiled lovingly and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “I never considered it a curse,” he continued as he turned to face Legolas again. “For me, it has always meant salvation and enlightenment; the recognition of what is truly important. Love is *all*, my dear son. Now you know it, as surely as I do, and you know that it is no curse, or affliction. ‘Tis only your heart, advising you to seek what it needs to survive.”

His father cupped the side of Legolas’ face and grinned, speaking with mock sternness. “And now, will you please tell your mother and me the name of your beloved, before we fairly burst?”

Legolas smiled and nodded. And speaking confidently, he gave them the name of his dearest love.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Both King and Queen looked from Legolas to Isalith and back again, and the Prince feared that their reaction would be far more unpleasant than anything he had been conjuring up in his mind, but after several seconds, Naniel stood and went to her son, bending down to hug him tightly. He embraced her gratefully in return, and Thranduil immediately followed suit, clasping Legolas in an emotional hold. They moved on then, to Isalith, giving him the same gesture of joy and acceptance.

“This comes as no surprise, you *do* know that, do you not?” the Queen asked mischievously. “You two have been inseparable, at least in spirit, since the day you met.”

“Were we as transparent as *that*?” Isalith asked, chuckling. He now openly encircled the waist of his love, drawing him close. Legolas pressed against him contentedly, yet he continued to search the eyes of his mother and father, looking for even a glimmer of disapproval. But there was none, and he silently thanked Eru.

“You were, indeed,” Thuil uil replied, his aqua-blue eyes dancing. “And now I think we should drink a toast,” and he strode to the cabinet that held several bottles of fine Mirkwood wine, pouring them each a goblet. Naniel helped him carry the glasses to their son and Isalith. Legolas raised his goblet first.

“Love and ….. completion,” he said, smiling radiantly.

The other three raised their glasses in turn, and the King added, “To Delariand’s Curse.”

He winked at the two Princes, and they all drank to destiny.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


The Queen of Mirkwood turned back to her husband, after Legolas and Isalith had left the room and she had quietly closed the door behind them.

Thranduil sat on the wide divan, his elbows resting on his knees as he leaned forward with hands clasped between his legs. He gazed thoughtfully at the floor, an unreadable expression in his eyes.

Naniel came to sit beside him, and lovingly squeezed his forearm. “You are not disappointed in Legolas, are you?” she asked tentatively.

Her husband started and turned to look at her.

“What? Disappointed? No! Our son could not disappoint me, if he tried. He is the finest Elf I know; would that *I* possessed all of his qualities. No, my love, I merely speculate as to what this means firkwirkwood. We have been grooming Legolas for the throne for many years; I simply cannot decide what my next move should be.”

Naniel smiled gently. “Well, I am delighted. I will never worry about them. They will love and protect one another *tirelessly*.”

Thranduil gathered her onto his lap, winding strong arms about her. “I agree, dearest. I feel strongly that Legolas and Isalith were destined for this union, but … there is still the question of the throne.”

The Queen cupped his handsome face with one hand. “Firstly,” she began, “in reply to your comment of a moment ago, you possess every quality that *I* desire.”

The blonde King smiled at that, and kissed her softly. “My most staunch supporter,” he murmured.

“And secondly,” she continued, “you will sit on the throne for many millennia yet; our people would have it no other way. However, *when* the time comes, you must keep in mind one very important fact.”

Thranduil tilted his head inquiringly.

“You have *two* heirs.”


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

gwanur: brother

ion-en: my son