Chapter Text
Chapter 1
The journey into the heart of Lothlorien was a quiet one, for the most part. As the weary fellowship followed the marchwarden, they were each caught up in their own thoughts, most of which were directed towards the one member now missing. The flight from Moria to the borders of the elven lands had not allowed much time for grief or mourning. It was likely that everything would catch up to them once they arrived in the Golden Wood and were able to finally stop and rest.
The lone elf among the fellowship found his thoughts venturing elsewhere, however. While Legolas felt sorrow for the loss of Mithrandir, as they grew ever nearer to where the Lady of the Wood dwelled, he felt nervous energy coursing through him, making it difficult to maintain his normally calm exterior.
Though it had been 100 years, he could clearly see her face in his mind from that day. Bright blue eyes bloodshot and rimmed in red. Her pale cheeks coated in tears that mixed with mud and blood from battle. Blonde hair falling from a long braid. The air of utter and complete brokenness. And he was the one to blame.
She was here in Caras Galadhon, this he knew. However, he did not know what he would do upon seeing her, speaking to her, after so much time had passed. Legolas had dreamed of this, to be sure, though it did not often end well. While he hoped that enough time had passed that Elanor would perhaps forgive him and accept him back into her life, he could not help but think himself undeserving.
But it was better to try than to continue living life as he had for the last century, always wondering. Always worrying. Never knowing if she would return. He felt that part of his soul had departed as well when she left.
Memories of that day flinted through his mind like moths attracted to the light. The shouting. Her tears. The way the life left her eyes and it seemed as though her entire soul splintered apart before him. He had been too harsh, acting out of grief, fear and anger. Pushing her away when he should have been pulling her close.
And then after it was all said and done, Elanor was gone.
It was not luck that brought the fellowship to Lothlorien, Legolas firmly believed this. But while part of him hoped this was his opportunity to mend the ties that he had so viciously broken that day, he worried that it was too late.
He glanced around him, noting the marchwarden - Haldir - watching him closely, though his expression betrayed nothing that was going through his mind. Almost without thinking, Legolas wanted to lift his chin slightly, narrow his eyes, assert his dominance as the son of the King of Mirkwood. But he stopped himself, finding it unfair to the marchwarden. Before the prince could think more of it, Haldir returned his attention to leading the fellowship towards where they would meet with Galadriel and Celeborn.
“We are here,” Haldir said, motioning towards a grand staircase that wrapped around the outside of a large, magnificent tree that seemed to glow from within. Aragorn cast a worried glance around their party before wordlessly starting up the stairs, the others falling in step behind him.
~~~
There was a certain odd energy in the air that Elanor could feel strongly. Servants were moving all around at a much faster pace than usual and she overheard one tell another that the marchwarden had returned. This was news as Haldir had told her he would not be returning from the latest patrol until the day after tomorrow.
He never came back early. Though since she arrived in the city, he seemed to linger there a bit longer in between patrols, allowing one of his brothers to lead in his stead. He said it was to rest, but Elanor had her own thoughts on that.
She set out to find him, eager to hear what news he brought from the borders of Lothlorien. Perhaps it was another letter from Imladris. They had been coming at an alarming rate, making it much harder to ignore the coming darkness.
Rounding a corner within the home, she smiled in relief to see Haldir standing in the great foyer unharmed. She quickened her pace as he turned, hearing her approach.
“I do hope that you have news. I can sense that something is amiss, though for the life of me, I cannot seem to locate anyone who can tell me just what,” she said, speaking quickly in her haste.
As Haldir’s brow furrowed, worry began to settle into the pit of Elanor’s stomach. She hoped that something had not befallen Imladris, the Woodland Realm or her father.
Or him. Her heart constricted slightly as her thoughts flickered to Legolas, but just as quickly, she forced herself to focus. Now was not the time, though he never seemed far from her thoughts, try as she might to push him out of her head.
“You have heard of the Fellowship, yes?” Haldir asked.
Elanor nodded as some of the tension began to leave her body, knowing this was not about Mirkwood or her father, though she still could not completely relax. Her aunt had shared with her news that a company had set out from Imladris, intending to travel to Mordor to destroy the Ring of Power. It was a precarious mission that would determine the fate of Middle Earth, so no light matter.
“They have arrived in our lands. They are now speaking with Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, though I should see that they have proper accommodations ready,” he said.
Ah, this was not so dire then. Though, perhaps they were hurt and in need of aid. Regardless, they must be tired and in need of food and fresh clothing.
“I can help,” she offered, already starting towards the entrance to the dwelling, though she stopped suddenly. “Or are they badly injured? I can send for Durothil or tend to them myself.”
“He has already been sent for, but one has fallen - Mithrandir. The rest only suffer from minor ails,” Haldir replied, though he did not move to follow her.
“Mithrandir? How?” Elanor asked, not quite believing that the powerful wizard would be the first casualty on this journey.
“In Moria. Fighting a balrog,” he said grimly.
Elanor looked to the ground as sorrow and worry began to rise up within her. She did not know the wizard well, though she knew her aunt and uncle would be greatly saddened by this news. And what this meant for the remainder of the dangerous journey was yet to be seen.
“There is more…”
“More dire news?” she asked, looking back up at him. Haldir was silent as though weighing his words, a quality very much unlike him when the two were together. It was rare that he hesitated to speak his mind to Elanor, which only caused her worry to grow.
“Haldir… speak, I beg of you,” she said softly, as she walked back towards him, reaching out to lightly touch his arm. He looked over at her small hand before meeting her blue eyes.
“You should know, Elanor, that among the Fellowship is… the Prince of Mirkwood,” he finally said. Elanor’s eyes widened as she felt the breath leave her and the world begin to spin slightly. Haldir reached out to steady her.
He was here? In Lothlorien?
For a moment, she felt as though she should fly through the corridors to her room. Lock herself within until the Fellowship left. Already, a deep-seeded ache had started up in her heart; one that she had spent the last 100 years fighting to ignore. But just as suddenly, she knew this was not something she could do. More than her family expecting her to help host the Fellowship, deep inside, part of her knew that she must face Legolas eventually.
But could she bear it?
She had been a broken wretch when she arrived in Lothlorien. It had taken a lot of time and effort on her part - and Haldir’s - for her to climb out of the pit of despair that she had dug for herself. And for the most part, Elanor thought she had healed.
But just the mention of his name had evoked such a strong pain within her, that she wondered if perhaps she had been deluding herself all this time.
“Elanor?”
At the sound of the once familiar voice, Elanor’s eyes widened though she held Haldir’s gaze. This all too soon. She was not prepared. She was sure her eyes looked wild with fear from the concern on Haldir’s face. Her grip tightened on his arm.
Calm. Control. Breathe.
Taking a deep, cleansing breath, Elanor turned to see Legolas stop just inside the room, hoping that her expression was far more relaxed than she currently felt. Her heart was pounding as her chest tightened.
Calm. Control. Breathe.
“Legolas,” she finally said, her voice managing not to shake.
“It has been such a long time,” he murmured, his face calm, though his eyes held a certain desperation. She nodded stiffly as the pain intensified.
This was too much. She was not ready.
“I must go,” she said before spinning on her toes and quickly striding out of the room, her long pale blue skirts fluttering behind her.
All these years she had fought to be rid of her heartache, her guilt, her pain. Attempted to forge a new path.
Legolas would ruin it all.
~~~
Legolas watched as Elanor walked away gracefully, her cold expression seared in his mind. Where was the once bright and lively elleth who could barely contain her laughter and spirit? What he would give to see her smile again.
Of course, he knew why she was this way, but he still had hoped. He remained still, though he longed to follow her. To wrap his arms around her to make sure that she was not a vision or mirage. Before he could come to any decision, Aragorn stepped into the room, stopping at his side.
“Legolas, come,” he said briefly. “There is much to discuss.” Legolas watched Elanor a moment longer before turning to see the ranger giving him a curious look.
“Of course,” Legolas said, stepping out of the archway quickly and then moving down the stairs. Aragorn nodded towards the marchwaden then followed.
~~~
Haldir turned to look after Elanor, seeing that she had already disappeared into the depths of the home, worry welling up within him. Though slow, she had begun to heal. Smiling more. The life returning to her eyes, though he knew there were still parts of her that remained closed.
But the elleth he first met thousands of years ago during her visits to Lothlorien with her mother was finally, at long last, returning. And now at just seeing him for a moment, she was again retreating into herself.
However, Haldir still had hope.
He had seen the look in the Prince’s eye upon seeing Elanor. It was enough for him to know that rather than tearing her apart, this time he very well could be a healing balm for her soul.
That is if Elanor would allow it...
~~~
Elanor felt, rather than heard, her aunt’s arrival shortly after she had walked into her rooms. While she wanted nothing more than to be alone right now, she knew that one did not so lightly send away Lady Galadriel.
“Why did you not warn me? You knew he was coming,” Elanor said, staring out over the city from her balcony, a cold edge to her voice. A gentle breeze blew her golden curls back from her face.
Galadriel stepped out onto the balcony, making her way over to stand regally at Elanor’s side. She did not answer at first, just looked over at her, studying her niece’s daughter.
Elanor looked so very much like her mother Fraeya, who had been a favorite of Galadriel’s. But beyond their hair and eyes and complexion, they had shared the same fire that had once burned in her brother Aegnor’s eyes.
Fraeya had been wise and kind, though displayed a fearsome temper when anger did strike. She was lively and laughed far more often than not. Elanor had inherited many of these attributes from her mother. She had an eagerness for life that Galadriel admired, though some called it rashness. Elanor was always running rather than walking and had continued to do much longer into her life than most elves.
That had changed when Elanor arrived 100 years ago, though Galadriel had faith that she would find her fire again. Held it still, though she was noticeably upset by the arrival of the Prince of Mirkwood.
“Would you have stayed?” Galadriel asked gently. Elanor did not answer, clenching her jaw instead, though she did not need to speak for Galadriel to know the answer. Elanor would have fled. And Galadriel knew just how important it was for her to stay.
To face the prince. To make peace with her past and embrace who she had been and who she was meant to be.
“You are testing me,” Elanor said tensely, still not looking at her aunt. “This is all a test, is it not?”
“It is not,” Galadriel said slowly. Elanor finally looked at her aunt, meeting her eyes. There were still sometimes when she felt as though she were peering into her own, they looked so much alike. “This is no test. But you have long known that someday you would face him. Face your past. You cannot run from it forever, Elanor.”
Elanor swallowed as she looked back over the city, fighting off the tears that had begun stinging her eyes as she gripped the railing tightly. She had thought she finally mastered control over her emotions, though it appeared she had not. Shame began coursing through her.
“I fear I am not ready,” she nearly whispered. Galadriel smiled, gently placing her hand on Elanor’s.
“You came here to heal and forge a new path. But you cannot move forward until you make your peace with the past,” Galadriel said. She squeezed Elanor’s hand as she leaned over and kissed her cheek. She then turned, leaving Elanor alone with her thoughts.
Once her aunt had left, Elanor could no longer stop the tears as they poured down her cheeks. For so long all she could do was to wallow in the pain her memories brought. Then she tried to push them away - the good and the bad. To forget. It had gotten easier to ignore the guilt and heartache when she did not allow herself to think of Legolas or the love she held for him at all. To open herself up to love once again.
But she had been powerless to stop them fully, if she was being honest. And she most certainly was powerless now. Even the happy ones brought pain, for they were reminders of what she could not have and did not deserve.
~~~
“Legolas!” Elanor called out brightly as she ran to the training grounds, looking around for the prince. She knew she was late. And that he would likely punish her for it dearly. The prince did not like to be kept waiting, even by his best friend.
“What kept you?” he replied from where he was leaning against a tree on the edges of the grounds. He gracefully pushed off it and started towards her as she came to a stop.
“Ada,” she replied with a huff and slight roll of her eyes. “He kept me longer than expected.” Legolas raised his eyebrows at her, crossing his arms as though he found the excuse lacking. “I am speaking the truth - you know how he is.”
“Another lecture?” he asked, smiling slightly.
“He does not understand how important this is to me,” she replied bitterly. Legolas chuckled - he was long aware of how Ailmar felt about his daughter’s education in warfare. He preferred that she spend her time on matters more befitting her station as the daughter of a Sindarin elf of Mirkwood, such as music or other more cultured pursuits. Her mother had long been renowned throughout the elves of Middle Earth as a talented singer, as well as for her wisdom.
But Elanor did not possess the same level of talent as a singer, though she fared well at dancing. And while she was clever and excelled in all subjects of study, she was just as strong in warcraft. No amount of begging, bartering or attempts to keep her otherwise preoccupied would detain her from her training.
“I thought perhaps after your father had spoken to him, he would finally understand. Goodness knows Amil has yet to convince him,” she said. “Surely if the King has said he wishes for me to train, Ada would understand.” She pulled out her sword and looked towards Legolas expectantly.
“Not today. You need to work on your archery,” he said, walking towards the long line of targets. Elanor frowned as she sheathed her sword and moved to follow him. She was hoping to spar and work out her frustration over her father’s latest attempt to thwart her ambitions.
She wanted to join the guard and fight alongside Legolas and the other great soldiers of Mirkwood. Prove that she was more than just a member of the nobility. Her father had his diplomacy, her mother her kindness and artistic talent. Elanor wanted something that was completely hers and felt as though this would be it.
She pulled her bow from her back and walked up to a target, calmly pulling out an arrow. Though they were still only about 400 years old, Legolas had already become a strong archer and took to training Elanor. Preferring the sword, her archery skills were lacking in comparison, though she still thought herself a decent shot.
“Move your feet,” Legolas said just as she brought the bow and arrow up. “You’re in the wrong position.” Elanor remained silent, fighting off the urge to roll her eyes. He took his role as tutor much too seriously in her opinion. Especially considering they had been running around together since they were very little. She changed her stance, glancing over at him. He nodded and she then returned her focus to the target in front of her. She slowly inhaled and then exhaled, allowing the arrow to fly free. It flew through the air, landing just right of center. Frowning, she quickly pulled out another arrow and took aim. This one hit a bit farther right. Huffing, she took out one more arrow and took aim.
“You are allowing your frustration to cloud your focus,” Legolas said calmly.
“Oh yes, master archer,” Elanor replied dryly.
“Cheek will get you nowhere,” he said with a slight smile, stepping up behind her. He placed one hand on her bow hand and the other on the hand that held the arrow. Elanor’s eyes widened slightly as she felt tingles run through her body at the contact. The sensation was an odd one - she had never reacted in such a way when near Legolas or when he touched her. She tried not to think of it as she returned her focus forward at the target and not on the prince’s hands.
Legolas adjusted her arms, then stepped away and studied her a moment before kicking her left foot a bit.
“There,” he said. Elanor took a deep breath and let loose the arrow, watching as it hit dead center. “Better. But you need more work.”
Elanor lowered her bow, scowling at him slightly, though it was tempered by the smile starting to appear on her face.
“Ever the taskmaster,” she said snarkily. Legolas just stared at her a moment before breaking out into a grin.
“You need it if you are to join the king’s guard,” he replied. That small phrase was enough to set alight her competitive nature. Elanor turned back to the target and shot three arrows in quick succession - all of them hitting center. She then turned back to him and curtseyed dramatically, a smug look on her face as she took in his shocked expression.
“Not the only one who can learn archery,” she said lightly as she pulled off her quiver and set it and the bow aside, then unsheathed her sword. “Let’s see if I can beat you at sword…”
~~~
Elanor jumped as she spun around, furiously wiping her cheeks. She had been so lost in her memories that she did not hear Haldir enter the room.
“I am fine,” she said quickly as he stopped in front of her, the concern clear in his grey eyes.
He must have gone home, for he was no longer in his armour. Sensing the turmoil hiding just under the surface, he reached out and gently pulled her into his arms. Elanor stiffened at first, but then found herself relaxing, drawing from his strength as she had done many times before.
“You do not need to hide your feelings from me, you know,” he said softly.
“I do not wish to feel at all,” Elanor replied. “How long do they intend to stay?”
“I do not know. Long enough to rest and replenish their supplies. They have had a hard journey. Perhaps a month or so,” he replied, stepping back from her and leading her back into her room. They walked across the sitting room to a settee and chairs before a lit fireplace, with Haldir taking a position upon the settee. Elanor gracefully sat in a nearby chair, her eyes fixed on the flames.
“I had not known that he was part of the Fellowship, though it does not surprise me,” she said dully.
“His father sent him to Imladris on his behalf. A creature had escaped their custody… he did not know about the ring at the time,” Haldir said, recalling what information he had gleaned. “He had spent some time there years before, while Lord Aragorn was young, then followed him to the Dunedain.” Elanor looked over at him, perplexed by the news.
Legolas had not often left their lands before, though it was not surprising that Thranduil had sent his son to represent him elsewhere. It took something rather great for the king to leave his halls.
“I had not heard this,” she said softly. “Granted I have not heard much of him since I left. Ada avoided it in his letters.”
Haldir continued his study of her, watching as the fire cast shadows across her face. He knew that she would fight him if he pushed her to speak her mind. But he also knew that she needed to speak about it.
“Perhaps the Valar have brought you two together for a reason,” he said. Elanor looked over at him, her eyes narrowing slightly before she returned to staring at the flames.
“Or perhaps they wish to continue punishing me,” she replied hollowly.
Haldir stood and walked over to her, taking her hands in his as he dropped down to his knee in front of her. Elanor turned to meet his eyes.
“When will you stop punishing yourself?” he asked softly. Elanor did not answer, though he could clearly see from her expression that she felt she still deserved it. “What happened was-”
“Entirely my fault,” she said sharply, cutting him off. “I deserve his anger.” Sighing, Haldir let go of her hands and stood, walking back over to sit down on the settee.
She had been doing so well that he had thought that she was truly starting to feel happy again. And that perhaps this meant she had finally forgiven herself. Less and less they spoke about Mirkwood, the prince and what had happened that day. But now, he was not so sure.
“I shall head back out the day after tomorrow,” he said, quickly moving to a different topic. He would spare her for now. “Lady Galadriel wishes that I stay to help our guests settle before going back to guard our borders. I left Rumil in charge and we both know it is not wise to leave him unchaperoned for too long.”
Elanor nodded in response, though looked towards the windows at the dark city outside rather than remark on the obvious slight against his brother. This only concerned Haldir more.
“The hour is late and I grow weary,” she said. Haldir stood and walked over, leaving a soft kiss on her forehead.
“I shall call on you tomorrow,” he said with a soft, hopeful smile. Elanor nodded, then quickly looked back into the fire.
He stopped at the doorway and looked back at her, clinging to the hope that she would be okay at the end of this.