Mending a Heart and the Tie that Binds

Chapter 17: The Truth Revealed


Elrohir raced to Ellaria’s home and found himself standing before her parent’s intimidating door. For some reason, it seemed to loom in front of him, with its russet complexion and large knocker. He felt a wave of sadness when he remembered coming to Ellaria’s home everyday. Now, things were different. Since the events of last summer, Ellaria had hardly spoken to him. When he did see her, the pain of her rejection cut like the blade of a sword. He assumed the only reason his heart hadn’t broken into a million pieces when their relationship came to an end was because he was so determined to win her back. So far, all attempts had failed, but Elrohir hoped that Ellaria’s promise indicated that there was still a ray of hope.

After the events of the summer, and Elrohir’s admission of involvement in the scandal, Ellaria told Elrohir that she would not marry him. However, upon his request, Ellaria promised not to reveal their separation until he had a chance to speak to his father and Arwen. Although the two were rarely seen together anymore, Elrohir was using the competition as an excuse for their lack of public appearances – and so far, everyone seemed to believe it. When he was in Lórien, however, he knew that his grandmother was suspicious, but he could not tell anyone because of the questions that would arise and the truth that could be unearthed. And he wasn’t afraid of what the truth would do to him as much as what it would do to Elladan.

The door swung open suddenly and Ellaria’s father, Duke Meris, stood looking dumbfounded at Elrohir.

“Elrohir, what are you doing here?” Duke Meris asked in his typical jovial voice.

“Uh… I… I just wanted to stop by and speak to Ellaria,” Elrohir stammered. “That is… if it is alright with you.”

“Of course!” Duke Meris said, beaming. “You don’t even have to ask, Elrohir. After all, you are practically family.”

Elrohir forced a toothy grin as the duke ushered him through the doorway.

“Oh, hello, Elrohir,” Ellaria’s mother, Duchess Aurel, said warmly. “It is so good to see you.”

“It is good to see you as well.”

“I assume that you are here to see Ellaria?”

“Aye.”

“Oh good,” Duchess Aurel said, smiling. “Perhaps your visit will lift her spirits. She has been so forlorn since last summer. I assume it is because you have been so busy with the competition and all.”

“Uh… yes… the competition,” Elrohir said as he inwardly reprimanded himself for behaving so suspiciously.

“Well I know I speak for both of us when I say that we are glad you are here,” Duke Meris said. “Ellaria will be very happy to see you.”

Elrohir forced another smile.

“I believe that Ellaria is in the garden,” Duchess Aurel said. “Feel free to go and look for her.

“Thank you.” Elrohir bowed leaving Ellaria’s grinning parents behind. He took the shortest route to the garden, which was through the living room, down a short corridor and into the parlor. There was a doorway that exited out of the parlor and directly into the garden.

Elrohir, thankful for the moon-illuminated night, traversed the garden with ease. He and Ellaria had spent many days amongst the plentiful flowers and lush foliage and many nights with their bodies intertwined beneath the abundant trees. Although his mind took him on a journey of his euphoric courtship with Ellaria, he walked with purpose. He knew where she was. He knew that she would be sitting under the large canopy of trees at the south border of the garden. He could feel her presence as he rounded a large bush and he smiled to himself. He loved her.

“Elrohir…” Ellaria said in a voice that indicated surprise and annoyance, “what are you doing here?”

“I need to speak with you about a pressing matter.”

“Oh, and what matter is that?” Ellaria asked, her voice changing from annoyance to ice.

“I need to talk to you about what happened last summer… I need to…”

“I do not want to hear any more of your excuses, Elrohir,” Ellaria snapped. “We discussed all there is to discuss long ago. Why must you dredge up the past?”

Elrohir could see the anger in Ellaria’s eyes but he couldn’t help but smile. Her skin was as smooth as porcelain, her eyes as green as emeralds and her hair was nearly as dark as the night sky.

She pursed her lips angrily. “Why are you staring at me?”

“Because you have grown even lovelier since I saw you last.”

Ellaria scoffed. “Elrohir, if your intention is to come here and flatter me endlessly in the hope that you can undo your misdeeds and win back my heart, you are wasting your time. Go back from whence you came, I have things to do.”

Elrohir felt his smile fade. “I am not here to win you back. I am here to discuss…”

“And when are you going to tell your family that we are not going to be wed?” Ellaria asked, interrupting Elrohir. “I no longer wish to live in the midst of this façade.”

“Ellaria…” Elrohir said, clutching both of her hands in his.

Ellaria was stunned by his actions. She started to pull away from him but choose not to when she looked into the depths of his eyes. Concern and fear mingled with sadness seemed to trudge slowly across his orbs. It finally occurred to her that whatever he wanted was serious. “Aye, Elrohir.”

“Ellaria… I am not here because of us,” Elrohir began slowly. “I am here on behalf of Elladan and Legolas.”

“Oh,” Ellaria said, feeling her annoyance wane. “What about them? Has Legolas discovered Elladan’s summer treachery?”

“Nay,” Elrohir responded. “Have your heard about what happened to the prince… about his illness?”

“Aye,” Ellaria said, “Arwen told me.”

“Elladan is convinced that Legolas’ condition is the result of the events that occurred last summer,” Elrohir explained. “He is set on finding the one he believes is responsible and destroying him.”

Ellaria frowned. “I… I am afraid I do not understand. What does all of this have to do with me?”

“You are the only one who knows about the events of last summer… you are the only one I can turn to.”

“What would you have me do?” Ellaria asked in disbelief. “I cannot stop Elladan.”

“Nay, but you can talk to him,” Elrohir said reassuringly. “He likes and respects you. He may listen to what you have to say.”

“What will happen if my words offer him no comfort?”

“Then I fear what will become of my twin.”

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After leaving Elrohir, Elladan walked to the easternmost garden. Pacing angrily, he began to formulate a plan. He had to find the one responsible for hurting Legolas – the one who had taken possession of the prince. But how? The orc he believed to be responsible could be anywhere in Middle-earth; tracking him would be almost impossible. He could return to the orc dens near Somerset but orcs could be quite nomadic at times; the journey could prove fruitless. Still, he had to try. He sat on a bench in the garden and remembered the orc’s threats from the previous summer. Then, he remembered Legolas’ pain. Guilt wrenched his heart. He decided then and there that he would kill the orc if it was the last thing he ever did.

He looked up at the moon and closed his eyes. He allowed the silvery light to bathe his face. Silently, he asked the Valar to lead him to his greatest enemy. Suddenly, his eyes flew open when he felt someone approaching. Then, he heard voices. He looked at the garden entranceway and saw Ellaria walking toward him.

“Ellaria,” Elladan said, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“I came here to speak with you.”

“You came here to speak with me?” Elladan asked in disbelief.

“Aye. May I sit next to you?”

“Of course,” Elladan replied, making room on the bench for Ellaria.

Elladan stared at Ellaria curiously.

“You look at me as though we have never had a conversation before,” Ellaria began playfully.

Elladan smiled faintly. “It’s just… well we haven’t spoken since… since you and Elrohir…”

“I know,” Ellaria admitted. “Things have been… awkward, haven’t they?”

“Aye,” Elladan replied, nodding slowly. “So… you wanted to speak with me?”

“Yes… I… I wanted to speak with you about…”

“Elrohir sent you here, didn’t he?” Elladan asked, interrupting Ellaria.

“Aye.”

“I thought I heard his voice just before you entered the garden.”

“He told me about your plans… that you want to go on another orc hunt.”

Elladan exhaled audibly and shifted in his seat. “Ellaria, you could never understand.”

“Understand what? That you would throw away your entire life for the thrill of the kill?” Ellaria asked blatantly. “What would Legolas say if he knew about your plans? I know you haven’t told him about your escapade last summer. Does he know about Henna? Does he know that you and Elrohir slaughtered at least a hundred orcs? Does he know that you could have died and that you are planning to do it again? And for what? For vengeance. Selfish vengeance. You and Elrohir would ride against the orcs… put yourselves in harms way… just to avenge your mother and Henna. You would do this and leave me and Legolas here to die from a broken heart when you never return? If your prince knew about this he would act just as I have. He would not tolerate it.”

The silence after Ellaria’s speech was so thick with tension it could be cut with a knife.

She knew her words had been a bit harsh, but she wanted to speak her mind, and maybe prevent the twins from getting killed.

Elladan rose to his feet, moving away from Ellaria before turning to face her. When he spoke, there was no anger in his voice. Instead, his tone was that of someone who was deeply wounded.

“Have you ever been in battle, Ellaria? Have you ever seen the broken bodies of your comrades?”

“Nay.”

“I have,” Elladan said softly. “Your mother… I assume you love her.”

“Of course, I do not know what I would do without her,” Ellaria said.

“I felt the same way about my mother, too,” Elladan said, his voice heavy with emotion. “But I have no choice, now… You do not know what it was like… when Elrohir and I found her. Those orcs… those beasts… they tortured her… for days… weeks… They took pleasure in her pleas of anguish; they laughed when she writhed in pain,” Elladan’s voice broke and he sighed, trying to calm his emotions. “When we found her… she was broken… in body and in spirit. She had been badly beaten… repeatedly. You see, when orcs capture elves they only do enough harm to main… to disfigure.” Elladan paused once more. “They allow the elf to heal somewhat after torturing them, before they inflict more wounds. It is a slow and horrible process, but it is one in which they are quite proud. Mind you, their aim is not always the conversion of an elf into an orc. Sometimes, the sheer joy of inflicting the most pain possible – over a long period of time is more entertaining.”

“Elladan…” Ellaria protested.

“Nay,” Elladan said. “I want you to hear this. Female elves, like you and Arwen, are often protected from the brutality of which I speak. Then, you pass judgment about things you do not understand. Only true warriors, male or female, know about the effects of war. You should speak to Zera one day…. I have fought by her side many times. She could tell you about the horrors of battle. I shall not spare you of details this night, Ellaria. You need to hear the truth.”

Ellaria nodded, trying to mentally prepare herself for what she might hear.

Elladan took another deep breath before speaking. “When Elrohir and I found our mother, she was almost naked. The lashes across her back were fresh and her skin was ripped open. She had bite marks on her thighs and chunks of her hair was missing; it had been ripped out.”

Ellaria shuddered but did not utter a word.

“Her face was bruised… almost beyond recognition…She had burn marks on her chest and arms… and… and some of her fingernails had been peeled off... And when they grew tired of her, they shot her with a poison arrow and left her to die.” Elladan stopped speaking abruptly. He hung his head and shook his head slowly at the terrible memories. “She was my mother… and I couldn’t save her.”

“But Elladan,” Ellaria said gently, “your mother is still alive. You and Elrohir did save her.”

Elladan smiled bitterly. “We only saved her body. My mother… she died in the orc dens… just like Henna. I thought I had overcome what happened to my mother, but I was wrong. My hatred for orcs is deep within me… last summer proved that. But you must understand… our battle was not simply an orc hunt, as you put it. I do not think Elrohir ever told you the whole story. Do you want to know what really happened while we were away?

“I do,” Ellaria said, slowly, unsure of how much more she could handle.

Elladan nodded. “As you know, Elrohir and I left to do Father’s bidding. He wanted us to purchase some very rare herbs from a human named Salak. While the medicine of men is primitive compared to our methods, Salak’s people, the Ingles, harvest a powerful herb called Rovoe.”

“Ah, yes,” Ellaraia said. “I have heard of Rovoe. It draws out the most potent poisons and aids in the swift healing of deep wounds.”

“Aye,” Elladan said, nodding. “I forgot that you have spent some time studying the healing arts with my father.”

“Yes, he has taught me much about herbs and the like.”

“Well, then as you probably know, the Ingles live deep in the Noy Mountains… that is the only place in Middle-earth where Rovoe grows. Word was sent to my father that Salak, an Ingle, would be in Somerset, a human city nearly a fortnight from Rivendell. He asked us to venture there to buy or trade goods for the herb. When we arrived, things did not go as planned.”

“What do you mean?”

“When Elrohir and I arrived in Somerset, the village was nearly in ruins. You see, the town is deep in a dark forest. Humans settled there because they believed the thicket would act as a barrier of protection. They did not, however, realize that the abundant trees block out the sun for longer portions of the day. For example, sunrise occurs later in Somerset because the trees shield the light until the sun is high overhead. Similarly, the day’s end comes earlier in Somerset. As soon as the sun passes over the trees dusk sets in. In fact, dusk lasts for about a fourth of their day!”

Ellaria shook her head, astonished.

“Anyway, Elrohir and I asked the survivors what had happened and they told us that a band of orcs had set upon the city the previous night. The raid had lasted for hours, because the trees protected the orcs from the light. Then, they were able to flee into their caves, which were even deeper in the forest… and they did not go alone. Aside from burning markets, houses and killing countless bystanders, they orcs stole men, women and children to torment when they returned to their dens.”

Ellaria covered her mouth in horror.

“Elrohir and I tried to assemble a small band of warriors from Somerset to help us try to recover some of the people who had been stolen. Unfortunately, many of the men had been injured, killed or were in shock and could not help us. With the memory of our mother’s state forever etched into our minds, we believed that no one should suffer such a fate. So, we decided to ride out and save as many humans as we could. Soon, we found ourselves at the orc dens… but we were too late. The mangled bodies of the humans littered the forest floor. We checked to see if any were alive but the severed legs, arms and heads were the only thing that now spoke for those humans.”

Ellaria felt tears forming in her eyes.

“I heard a strange noise… a weak groan. Elrohir and I ran to see what human had survived the brutality of this attack. It wasn’t a human… it was an elf.”

Ellaria’s mouth fell open in shock.

“It was a female and she asked, ‘Elladan, is that you?’ when I approached her. It was Henna.” Elladan paused, trying to gather his strength to tell the rest of the story. “I thought that my eyes were deceiving me. But when Elrohir’s face showed the same shock as mine, I knew that Henna was alive. If you recall, Henna was our nursemaid when we were young. She was also a dear friend of my mother’s. She was with my mother when she was captured by the orcs. We looked for Henna when we rescued our mother but assumed she was dead when we could not find her.”

“But Henna had been gone for so long… how had she survived?”

“She didn’t,” Elladan whispered, unable to steady his voice. “Her condition was unimaginable…” Elladan’s voice broke. “I cannot tell you… I can’t…”

Ellaria clutched her heart when she saw the despair in Elladan’s eyes.

“Somehow she was separated from my mother and the others… taken by a different group of orcs… I don’t know. She was so scared…” Elladan couldn’t stop the tears now; they flowed freely as he spoke. “She had somehow managed to escape from her bonds when the orcs left for the raid on Somerset… she crawled out of the cave and threw herself among the dying humans, hoping to be killed, too. Alas, they did not see her. So, she lay there in her weakened state… too weak to crawl back into the cave. And then we came…”

Ellaria wiped the tears from her eyes. She felt so guilty for speaking to Elladan so harshly before. She never knew the depth of his pain. She only wished she could take her words back now.

“We came… and she begged me… she begged me to… to kill her… to end her suffering. It was her last request. And I couldn’t do it,” Elladan said. “I was so overwrought with emotions that I could not think. Seeing Henna… it was like having my mother back in a way. I had forgotten that I was holding my knife in my hand. Elrohir and I had made ready for battle upon entering the area near the orcs lairs. Before I could stop her, she gathered what was left of her strength, grasped my hand and ran the knife through her heart.” Elladan dropped to his knees and covered his face with his hands. “She died in my arms,” he whispered.

Ellaria rushed to Elladan’s slumped body and fell to her knees. She wrapped her arms around him, sobbing softly. “I had no idea,” she whispered.

“The orcs soon returned… I… I do not know where they had been. When they saw me and Elrohir… and Henna; they attacked us. We let our rage… our fresh hatred guide us. I killed anything that crossed my path; it was not a battle; it was a massacre. The sun aided me and Elrohir as the orcs were forced to seek shelter from the glowing rays. Any fell creature who did not escape into the cave was slaughtered. One orc, however, threatened me. He said that he could tell Elrohir and me apart and that he would not rest until he killed me… or someone I loved. He swore it.”

“Is that why you think Legolas is ill? Do you believe that orc has something to do with the prince’s condition?”

“Aye,” Elladan said. “That is why I have to find him… and kill him. If I don’t, Legolas will die.”

“If Elrohir knows this, why did he ask me to talk to you?”

Elladan brushed away his tears before responding, slowly regaining his composure. “He fears for me. He is afraid that I will die. But I cannot be concerned with my fate when my focus must be on the fate of the one I love most in this world. I have lost too much to the orcs. I will not lose Legolas. I will die a thousand deaths to save him.”

“Oh, Elladan…”

“And Elrohir would go to the same lengths for you, too,” Elladan said, standing up and helping Ellaria to her feet. “He loves you with all of his heart. Now that you know the truth… now that you know everything… I hope you will forgive him.”

Ellaria smiled sincerely. “Why didn’t Elrohir tell me everything?”

“He tried to… but methinks you were too angry to hear the whole story.”

Ellaria remembered when Elrohir told her about that summer and how she would not let him speak. She had been angry when the twins had gone in search for their mother out of fear for Elrohir. When she heard about yet another battle with orcs, she refused to listen, no matter how desperately Elrohir had tried to explain. She nodded and embraced Elladan. “Thank-you.”

Elladan hugged Ellaria and whispered, “I think someone else would like to be held.”

Ellaria turned and saw Elrohir entering the garden.

Before he could voice his concern about the length of time she had been in the garden, Ellaria raced into his arms, kissing him tenderly.

He was shocked at first but soon melted into his love’s embrace, wiping away her tears and a few of his own.

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Elladan left Ellaria and Elrohir in the garden and crept back into the manor. Still distraught from his conversation with Ellaria, he tried to erase the images of his mother and Henna’s broken bodies from his mind. Finally reaching the resting room, he entered silently.

Thranduil, who was sitting at the foot of the bed, keeping a close watch on Legolas, smiled warmly when Elladan entered.

Elladan nodded politely, making sure to avoid the king’s eyes.

Thranduil rose to his feet, to take his leave. He noticed Elladan’s forlorn demeanor and assumed the young warrior was still distressed about Legolas’ condition. Silently, he offered his seat to Elladan. Not wanting to wake the slumbering prince, he simply placed his hand on Elladan’s shoulder and squeezed reassuringly as a means of comfort.

Elladan glanced at the king and forced a faint smile. Trying to keep his eyes focused on something other than Thranduil, Elladan sat down on the chair at the foot of the bed and began to watch Legolas.

The king quietly exited the bedchamber.

Elladan felt his emotions whirling around inside him; he didn’t know what to do. Watching his lover sleeping so peacefully saddened him beyond words. He could not allow Legolas to suffer; he would find a way to stop it.

“You seem lost in thought,” Legolas said, looking at Elladan sleepily. “What is wrong?”

“N… nothing,” Elladan murmured, trying to sound cheerful. “When did you awaken?”

“Just,” Legolas said, yawing. “And do not try to change the subject.”

“I’m not,” Elladan said, smiling. “I am just tired… that’s all.”

Legolas pursed his lips in disbelief. “Haven’t I told you before that your guise does not fool me? You are telling a falsehood, Elladan.”

Elladan sighed and looked at the floor, unsure of what to say.

“Come hither,” Legolas said, sitting up slightly.

Elladan arose from his chair and walked toward the prince slowly. He stood at Legolas’ beside and avoided the prince’s eyes.

Legolas felt strange suddenly. This feeling was different from when he had the vision the night before. It was as though his body had been engulfed in sunlight. He looked at Elladan and could somehow see within him. The Rivendell warrior was in great distress and emotional turmoil. Yet, Legolas knew somehow that this was not the time to question him further. “Elladan?”

Elladan looked at the prince and gasped. Legolas was glowing. For some reason, he wasn’t fearful of the light. It beckoned to him somehow.

Legolas moved to one side of the bed and pulled back the bedcovers as an invitation.

“What if you father returns?” Elladan asked.

“He won’t,” Legolas said.

Elladan hesitated, but the prince’s expression was commanding. He pulled his boots and his overtunic off and got in the bed next to Legolas.

The prince wasted no time. He pulled Elladan into his arms, cradling him gently.

Elladan rested his head on Legolas chest and listened to the beating of his heart. He shuddered when he remembered the way his blade penetrated Henna’s heart – the way she died. *And now, Legolas may die. I may be listening to its gentle rhythm for the last time.* Elladan tried to calm himself but his emotions overwhelmed him. He held Legolas as close as he could, silently pleading with the Valar to spare the prince’s life. Then, he heard a soft voice.

“Do not despair, Elladan. This time will pass. No matter what happens, my heart will always be with you.” Legolas stroked his lover’s hair gently and kissed his forehead.

Elladan was confused and angered by Legolas’ words. It sounded as though the prince had already given up. He started to protest, but before he could utter a word, the golden light surrounded him. It caressed his face and seemed to penetrate his soul. All of his worry, all of his anger and doubt disappeared. It was replaced with a feeling of utter peace and contentment.

He fell into a deep sleep and dreamed about a memory from his childhood. He was in Lórien with his whole family and his nursemaid, Henna. Arwen had not been born yet and he and Elrohir were only five years of age. His mother and father were busy attending council meetings so he and Elrohir, being the mischievous youngsters they were, decided to try to hide from Henna. The twins separated and found their own hiding places. Elladan remembered going deep into the forest and getting lost. He called out, but no one heard him. Panic stricken, he began to run in the direction from whence he came, but he only seemed to get more lost as time wore on. Exhausted and frightened, Elladan sat on a tree stump in the woods and began to cry. Just when he thought all hope was lost he saw golden light approaching. He wasn’t afraid, though. The golden light called to him. He walked toward it and into his grandmother’s arms. She dried his tears and kissed his cheeks. The light washed away his fear; he was safe.

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Early the next morning, Thranduil went for a long walk. He wanted to sort out all that had happened since he had been in Rivendell and try to make some sense out of the disarray his life and his youngest son’s life was in. He walked up a steep hill and was surprised to see Legolas standing in a clearing.

The young prince was practicing his archery and waved when he saw his father approaching. “Legolas… what are you doing? You should be resting.”

“I am practicing for the archery competition,” Legolas said, smiling. “Mirkwood has yet to win a single competition… until now.” Legolas fired five arrows in rapid succession, each one striking a nearby tree in a perfect line. “If you would like, I can tell the archers from Rivendell and Lothlórien to forfeit. It seems such a waste for them to put so much energy in their daily practice when they are only going to lose.”

Thranduil laughed, “You seem to be very sure of yourself.”

“I am your son,” Legolas said, shrugging. “I simply know my strengths and weaknesses.”

Thranduil shook his head. “You should be resting.”

“I have rested long enough. There is much to be done, now.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” the prince responded, meeting his father’s eyes.

Thranduil inhaled and exhaled sharply. “You are not going to die…”

“I might,” Legolas said softly. “But I have made a decision. I want to live… now. If I only have a short time left, then I want it to be the best time of my life. I want to do all the things I love and say all of the things that I haven’t said. I shall not mourn and I do not want you to either.”

“I cannot accept your death, Legolas. I will not accept it,” Thranduil said firmly.

“I know… you have a problem with acceptance.”

“What?” Thranduil asked, looking at Legolas in shock.

“I know what you have kept hidden in your heart for so long.”

“And what is that?” Thranduil asked, staring at the prince in dismay.

“Your love for Elrond.”

Thranduil’s mouth fell open. “How… who told you that?”

“You did. Last night when I grasped your hand… I… I saw inside you. I saw your heart.”

Thranduil turned away from his son. He did not know what to say. He felt as though his privacy had been invaded; he also felt a swell of guilt. He decided to answer what he assumed Legolas would ask. Slowly, the king turned and faced his son. “I loved your mother.”

“I know,” Legolas said sincerely. “But she is gone now.”

Thranduil was taken aback by Legolas’ words. “I… I…” the king stammered.

“You needn’t say a thing, Father. My words are not those of judgment but ones of council,” Legolas said, placing his bow and quiver on the ground and walking toward his father. Stopping a few feet away from the king, he met his father’s eyes. “Elves do not rush into most things… especially where the heart is concerned. We have what so many others do not; we have time. Now that my time is fading, I see how precious it really is.”

“Legolas…”

“I know everything… I saw it all. You must speak with him. Tell him that you…”

“Elrond knows how I feel,” Thranduil said abruptly. He felt awkward about discussing such personal matters with his son, but his heart would not permit him to end the conversation. Something about Legolas had changed. It was as though something had awakened within him. He seemed older and spoke like an ancient one. Thranduil set his jaw and listened carefully to his son’s words.

“I know,” Legolas said. “He rejected you.”

Thranduil sighed and scratched the back of his neck, trying to mask his embarrassment.

“You must forgive him… face-to-face.”

“I cannot,” Thranduil said.

“You must, Father,” Legolas implored firmly. “Your stubbornness is what separated our realms so many years ago. You must not let that happen again. Remember, it was Lord Elrond who mended my heart after Mother died. He is the tie that binds all three realms together.”

“Legolas…”

“You have been civil to him, and that is better than the last time, but I need you to forgive him. I need there to be harmony between our realms.”

“Why?”

“Because I want you to be happy. Mother would have wanted this… I want this. Before I die, I want to believe that the two of you will finally be together… even if it is only as friends. You are so lonely… I didn’t know. I do not want you to remain alone.”

“But Legolas, Elrond has made his choice. He does not want to be with me. How can you ask me to be friends with someone who has hurt me so deeply?”

“Because you long for his companionship, despite your stubborn nature,” Legolas responded.

Thranduil’s eyes widened. He could not believe Legolas was speaking to him in such a manner. “I am not sure if I like this new gift of yours.”

Legolas smiled. “Me neither.”

There was a long pause between father and son before Legolas spoke.

“What I have asked of you… it is my last request… I will ask nothing else of you until the end, if you will only do this for me...”

Thranduil hesitated and then nodded slowly. “I swear it.”

Legolas smiled and reluctantly embraced his father; he knew it may be the last time.

Thranduil pulled away suddenly and gave his son a suspicious glance. “You didn’t have another vision, did you?”

Legolas laughed. “Nay.”

“Good.” Thranduil embraced his son awkwardly, as this type of affection was rare in their family. While Legolas had accepted his own death, he could not. He only hoped that help would arrive before it was too late.

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TBC…