Upon the Branching Years by IgnobleBard

And in the End

The love you take is equal to the love you make.

Legolas woke to a knock on his door and a summons to the king. He rose, feeling like he’d spent a restless night even though he had slept through with no dreams. His arm hurt and he rolled up his sleeve to see a small scar he did not remember having from what looked to be an old wound. Having no time to explore the mystery he filed it away to consider later.

When he presented himself to Thranduil, the king bade him come in and sit, a concerned look on his face. He got straight to the point, as was his wont.

“I received a message from Elrond this morning requesting an envoy from the Greenwood attend a council on how best to address the matter of Isildur’s Bane. Through a stroke of luck, Bilbo Baggins’ nephew was given the ring and managed to get it safely to Imladris, thanks to the help of Glorfindel and Aragorn. The poor fellow was wounded by the Witch King and lay near death but has now recovered. I want you to go and inform them of Gollum’s escape and then report back to me with the council’s decision.”

“If this is true, war is a certainty. I can’t leave now. We must prepare.”

“No, you must go. I will manage the forces here and by the time you return we will be ready to do what must be done.”

“Then I will accept this honor and leave at once. I have always desired to look upon that fair land.”

“Whatever the decision of the council, assure them that the Greenwood stands ready to fight. And keep your head around Elrond, he can be quite shrewd and difficult to read.”

“I will,” Legolas said, with an inward smile at his father’s suspicions of the Noldor.

When he came at last to the hidden realm, Legolas was immediately taken by its beauty, despite the seriousness of his duty. He was greeted with warm respect by the Noldor and told that the council would convene in a few days. There were many places within the Last Homely House to explore and beautiful gardens without surrounded by open grasslands and thick groves of trees. He spent the first day wandering as far as his feet could take him, trying to see everything at once. When he looked at the high cliffs rising up on both sides of the valley a surprising feeling of familiarity gripped him. The musical sound of the many waterfalls and the rainbows of color from their spray played a longing tune upon his heart, though he knew not why. Tears came unbidden to his eyes and he scolded himself for his foolish sentimentality.

As evening neared, he was reluctant to leave the garden with its profusion of flowers he had never seen and sculptures so lifelike he could swear he saw them breathe, but then a servant called him to board. He ate with Elrond and his family, meeting his twin sons and Erestor, one of his councilors. Erestor was an interesting character, thick dark hair and stern grey eyes that didn’t match his warm smile. He was merry company and they found they had a lot in common as they chatted like old friends. Erestor told him he had been quite a good archer in his youth, though Legolas doubted it to see him now in his fine robes.

Weary from his travels, Legolas thought to turn in early that night, but Erestor invited him to the Hall of Fire and he did not wish to refuse. When they entered, he saw a man lounging in a chair. He had one long leg thrown over the arm and was reading a book.

“Erestor leaned in to whisper, “That’s our Glorfindel, the famed Balrog slayer. I’m sure you’ve heard of him.”

Of course Legolas had. Everyone knew of Glorfindel and his notorious battle upon the peaks of the Cirith Thoronath. Sitting there reading some mundane book on trout he could have been anyone if not for that gleaming, golden hair. For some reason, the sight of him made Legolas want to run and hide. He was just about to make his excuses when Glorfindel looked up and noticed them there.

“Erestor!” he said with a smile that lit his fair face in a most enchanting way. “Come, who is this young Sinda that graces our halls tonight.”

“This is Legolas Greenleaf, of the woodland realm. He has come to take part in the council.”

Glorfindel’s face held a momentary look of confusion and his welcoming smile was enigmatic. “I knew a Legolas Greenleaf once, many years ago, in Gondolin. I never knew what happened to him but it is said he passed over the sea to Tol Eressëa where he lives to this day.”

The sensation of familiarity hit Legolas again, hard, but this time there was another feeling as well, one of longing and desire from deep within that he had only felt before in his most elusive dreams. Something within his fëa shifted and the song of Eä grew deep and resonant within him as though he had awoken from a dark spell, making the world seem urgently radiant and new.

Without conscious thought or concern for any who might be watching, he leaned in and tilted Glorfindel’s head down to kiss him, his fingers playing over, but not quite loosing, the gold and pearl ribbon of his braid.