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Shouldering his quiver and blade holster, Legolas eyed the road with new eyes. Somehow the dirt path looked different now that he was about to be heading out on it for what was likely the last time. It seemed nearly the entire village had turned out to see him off, and turning back to the assembled crowd the elf cleared his throat.
"You've all been kind to me since I first came here, and I am grateful to you. If ever your paths bring you across the Misty Mountains, know that you shall have a friend in the Greenwood."
Aragorn, who stood at his side, reached out and placed a hand on Legolas's shoulder. "And the same may be said of us to you. This village and the lands of Fornost are always open to you, my friend."
Nodding, Legolas clapped his hand over-top of Aragorn's and smiled. "You especially, Aragorn. I would be honored to show you the way through the winding paths of the woodland realm."
A tiny hand tugged at the corner of Legolas's cloak, and he turned to see little Elgarain looking up at him. Radanir stepped forward to scoop her up into his arms as Nerwen offered him a single arrow laid across her long fingers. It's fletching was red; her characteristic color.
"For the elf who always somehow manages to keep his quiver full; may you never run out of arrows." Nerwen spoke with great seriousness. Her bow and arrows were practically a living extension of herself and her pride as huntress for her family. Legolas accepted the arrow with equal gravity.
"Thank you Nerwen. Blessings of the Valar follow you and yours." With a smile he leaned forward to drop a quick kiss on Elgarain's chubby cheek. To Radanir he offered his hand, which was clasped gladly.
"Legolas?"
Recognizing Andris by his deep, rich voice, Legolas greeted the ranger as he stepped forward. "Andris. Blessings to you...and good hunting." It was a good-natured bit of teasing, one that turned both Andris and Kaylen's ears red even from where she stood at a distance in the crowd.
"Good hunting yourself." Andris mumbled, still blushing but with a grin on his face. "Take care you don't get lost somewhere in the Misty Mountains, aye?"
"I'm an elf, I never get lost." Answered Legolas smartly. It wasn't true though. For a time he had been lost, wandering adrift in his own mind and spirit. Here in the wilds of Fornost he had found himself, and now was ready to return home.
Just as Legolas was about to set foot out onto the road, Aragorn stopped him.
"Safe travels and fair winds, Legolas of the Woodland Realm. Something tells me we shall meet again."
Bowing his head to honor the Dunedain chieftain, Legolas smiled. "I believe you are right, Aragorn son of Arathorn. Until that day, farewell."
Aragorn reached out and clasped wrists with Legolas. Briefly, he hesitated before letting go. Then, in one swift motion he pulled the elf in close and hugged him.
Embracing others was not something that elves were in the habit of doing, except perhaps with spouses and young children. Legolas decided he preferred the human view on the gesture, and returned the hug with equal gusto. Then, he gazed around at the faces of the Dunedain one last time before leaving.
Gelwin had come too. Legolas saw her standing toward the back of the crowd and marked her easily by her blonde hair. Fair and composed, she lifted a hand to him in farewell. The makings of a wise-woman were in that one indeed. Perhaps it was always within her, or perhaps loving and choosing to let go of her love for an elf had granted the girl some extra measure of wisdom. Whatever the truth of the matter, Gelwin daughter of Galdir did indeed live to become a person of great honor and respect among her people. As did Elgarain and Berigost, son of Andris and Kaylen, in their own turns.
As for Legolas, he made the journey back across the Misty Mountains day by day, league by league. He even stopped in Rivendell along the way for a time, where he was heartily welcomed by Elladan and Elrohir. There at last he was introduced to the famed Arwen Undomniel, of whom he had heard so much. After meeting the daughter of Lord Elrond in person, Legolas way inclined to agree with Aragorn; Arwen truly was the likeness of Luthien Tinuviel come into the world again.
Legolas only lingered for a month in the Hidden Valley though before once again pressing on. The closer he got to home, the more he suddenly found himself yearning for familiar paths. The Misty Mountains themselves seemed to pass in a blur, their stones silent and brooding as he crossed the narrow passes alone.
By the time he began his descent into the lands between the mountains and the forest it was nearly late autumn. Everywhere the hues of the fall could be seen, and everything smelled faintly of mulch. One night as he rested beneath a tree he thought he heard a snuffling nearby, as if that of a bear. The next morning he followed the enormous tracks out into a meadow, and that was how Legolas came to find the home of Beorn the Skinchanger. Strangely enough the fellow remembered the elf prince from the two-minute conversation they had had following the Battle of Five Armies. Beorn offered Legolas a bed for the night, but he politely declined. With the Greenwood so close at hand now, he doubted he could bear to remain in one place for even a matter of hours.
At last Legolas found himself standing upon a familiar road. The old forest gate had for many years been abandoned, Thranduil having withdrawn his people further and further into the solitude of the forest. There was something different about the place now. The archway above the path, which not long ago had been falling into disrepair, stood clean and erect. Ivy twined up along each side, and although the entrance to the Greenwood exuded mystery it was no longer a forbidding sight as it had once been.
A short distance under the trees along the path, Legolas found the statue that he had almost forgotten was there. A likeness of the late queen, she stood tall and serene in the shadow of the forest. No doubt about it; elves had been here, and recently too. Reaching up he tenderly touched the statue's stone cheek before turning away.
The condition of the western gate puzzled Legolas somewhat as he walked the forest road. The western borders of the forest were well beyond the tightly controlled range that Thranduil had so long imposed upon his people. But if not elves, then who could have come and restored the place?
The further into the Greenwood Legolas traveled, the more he began to wonder if perhaps it was not so impossible after all that his people could have been here. The entire forest had a different feel to it, an air that was both new and old to Legolas. The Greenwood had not felt this alive for so many years that Legolas almost couldn't recall. They had heard news that Sauron had been driven out of his lair in Dol Goldur at about the same point in time as the Battle of Five Armies. With the evil of Sauron gone, the entire forest seemed to have come back to life. It was still a wild place, with many twists, turns and wandering paths to beguile and mislead the unwary traveler. Legolas knew this forest better than the back of his own hands though, and he made excellent time along the road.
With less than a league between himself and the gates of the palace, Legolas stopped and camped beneath the eves of an enormous oak tree. If the patrol leaders he had personally trained had half the sense the Valar gave a gnat, no doubt he would be spotted long before he actually approached the gate. This would be his last night to be just himself, rather than a prince or a commander or anything else.
Sitting with his back to the trunk of the oak he reached beneath his tunic and drew out his mother's ring. The silver band with its stone as white as starlight shone in the dusky air. How many times had Legolas seen the twin of this ring, still and always upon Thranduil's own hand? Never had either of them ever been without theirs. Briefly Legolas wondered if perhaps he ought to have buried it with the queen, so that it might be with her still.
Shaking his head silently, Legolas decided he had done well to bring the ring. He could speak of recovering his mother and retell the story in every detail to Thranduil, but there was something about seeing and feeling a thing with your own flesh that made it all the more real. Besides, his mother would have wanted her beloved to have it.
The next morning the sun shone clean and bright through the treetops, casting a faintly orange glow over everything on the forest floor. Rousing himself from his reverie Legolas rose and donned his cloak. The time had come to walk through those gates and declare himself returned.
A presence filled his senses in a way that he had not known for nearly six years now. It had always been so between himself and Tauriel; each could tell when the other was watching them. A smile crooked the corner of his mouth, and he folded his arms across his chest.
"Not even going to draw your bow, ernil-nin? I might have been an orc." Tauriel's voice came from behind him, and Legolas could tell that the Silvan elf was standing not a dozen paces away.
"But you are not." At last Legolas turned around to face her. "It is good to see you again, Tauriel."
"And you, Legolas."
Tauriel looked quite different now from when Legolas had last seen her. No longer attired in her usual leather armor and green overdress, she instead wore something much closer to a elvish-human hybrid of clothing. It looked thoroughly custom made actually, and Legolas could have sworn he saw dwarvish designs stitched into the blue cuffs of the sleeves and collar.
Recalling the events preceding and immediately following the Battle of Five Armies, Legolas chose his words carefully. "Are you...here from Erebor?"
Tauriel nodded, her expression unreadable. "And from Dale. I serve your father now as Ambassador to both cities on behalf of the woodland realm." Turning her face slightly, her eyes flickered downwards. "I am returning now to give him my report." Before Legolas could ask anything else though, Tauriel squared her shoulders. "And what of yourself? Where have you been these past years?"
"North. But perhaps that is a tale best saved for later. Is...is my father well?"
Tauriel nodded, and at that her eyes brightened slightly. "Yes, yes your father is well Legolas. He has missed you, terribly so. With the purging of Dol Goldur he has re-expanded our borders. Our people now once again control the entirety of the northern Greenwood."
The news brought a smile to Legolas's face, and he could not help but let how pleased he was at this turn of events show. "I had thought perhaps it was so. I passed through the old forest gate on my way here, and it looked better than I have ever seen it."
"There is more to tell. Shall we walk together?" Tauriel gestured to the pathway, which ran straight to the gates of the palace. "It seems we have much to speak of, and can do so along the way."
Falling into step beside Tauriel came naturally, and the two of them spoke at length as they followed the elven road. Legolas told her in brief of his time among the Dunedain (taking care to omit Aragorn's true name), and Tauriel in turn retold how she had been reassigned to life among the men and dwarves of the Lonely Mountain. They talked like old friends re-acquainted, and Legolas found himself laughing more than once at Tauriel's descriptions of the habits and customs of dwarves.
Just before they came into sight of the bridge, Tauriel paused and looked at Legolas strangely. Turning back to her, Legolas shook his head enquiringly.
"What is it, Tauriel?"
"You."
"I beg your pardon?"
Tauriel smiled slightly. "You have changed a great deal since last I saw you, mellon-nin. You smile often now, and even laugh." The red-haired ambassador tilted her head at him, as she once used to do. "It is good to see you so."
"It is good to be so." Legolas answered, his eyes shining.
Then, with Tauriel at his side, Legolas crossed the bridge and passed through the gates of the woodland realm.
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