Title: Honour Before Love
Author: Maddy_Snape
E-mail: maddy_snape@yahoo.co.uk
Pairing: Legolas/Elrond
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Set during Lord of the Rings, Legolas returns to Rivendell to 
report the escape of Gollum after betraying his lover, Elrond, two hundred 
years previously.  *MPreg*

Chapter One – Return to Rivendell

Legolas rode in through the gates of Rivendell, head held high.  He was 
determined not to show the quaking fear that was in his heart at the thought of 
those he must face.  It did not help that the first he encountered were the dark-
haired twins, Elrohir and Elladan.

“What the hell are you doing here?” was the unfriendly greeting he received, 
but still he knew it was more than he deserved.  Gracefully Legolas 
dismounted and pulled the reins over the horse’s head so he could lead him.

“I have come with news for your father,” he replied.

“I doubt that there is anything from your mouth that our father would wish to 
hear.” Elrohir spat.

Any further reply was superseded by the arrival of the twin’s foster brother.

“Legolas!” came the cheery greeting.  “I had not expected to see you again so 
soon.”  *And certainly not here*, he thought.

Legolas let go of his horse’s reins and hugged Aragorn, pleased to see 
perhaps the only ally he had left in Rivendell.  Aragorn was too young to 
know the events that had led to the prince’s disfavour here, and he sincerely 
doubted that any had spoken of it to him, especially not Elrond.

“It is good to see you again, old friend,” Legolas said with pleasure, ignoring 
the snort that these words elicited from Elladan.  “I am afraid I do not come 
with good news though.  There is much darkness in Mirkwood these days and 
events have caught us unaware.”

“There is much darkness everywhere,” Aragorn replied gravely.  “But your 
timing is excellent.  Tomorrow Elrond has called a council meeting scheduled 
to discuss many serious matters.  Perhaps your news would be best discussed 
there?”

“I expect you are right, Aragorn, but I think I should at least let Lord Elrond 
know what events have transpired in Mirkwood before this council.”

Aragorn nodded his head, containing his surprise that Legolas wished to see 
his foster father.  He knew that there was no love between King Thranduil 
and Elrond, but it had never been explained to him why exactly this seemed 
to have been inherited by his son.  The prince’s name was never spoken in 
front of Elrond and more than once he had heard his foster brothers muttering 
darkly about him.  Even his beloved Arwen would not discuss the matter, 
only telling him that it was in the past and nothing good could come of him 
knowing.

It was all very mystifying to Aragorn.  He genuinely liked Legolas and 
believed he would make a good king if his father ever decided to leave for the 
West.

Aragorn beckoned to a groom standing nearby to take Legolas’ horse to the 
stable.

“I will show you the way to Elrond’s study,” Aragorn said.

“I know the way well, but I would still appreciate your company.” Legolas 
replied, once again surprising Aragorn.

“You have been here before?” he blurted out, without thinking.

Legolas gave him a strange look.

“I spent much time here when I was younger,” he said, his tone indicating 
that was all he would say on the subject.

*****************

Lord Elrond sat in his study, lost in thought.  The hobbit, Frodo, brought great 
danger to his realm and, though he knew what must be done, he did not know 
who would have the courage and strength of mind to carry it out.

He was interrupted by a quiet knock at the door, followed by the entry of his 
oldest friend, Glorfindel.

“Is something wrong?” Elrond asked with a frown.  He had requested 
specifically not to be disturbed this afternoon.

“Prince Legolas has just entered Rivendell.  I believed you would want to 
know.” Glorfindel replied evenly.

Elrond could not hide the faint start that this news brought.  It had been over 
two hundred years since he had last seen that particular fair face and, though 
the rational part of him tried to argue that this was not long enough, the 
romantic part desired to look upon him one more time.  Without meaning to, 
Elrond fell into the past.

Flashback

“I will be back before the first snow,” the golden-haired elf promised, 
dropping fervent kisses on his lover’s face.

Elrond held the strong, slim body against him, not wishing to ever let him go.  
He had a strange foreboding about this trip, but how could he ask his love not 
to visit his sick brother?

“I must go,” Legolas murmured.  “I have many miles to cover today.”

“Hurry back,” Elrond whispered sadly, hating himself for the weakness he 
could not hide.  “My arms and our bed will be empty without you.”

Legolas pressed one more kiss to his lips.

“I swear I will be back as soon as I am able.”  And with that he had left his 
Lord’s arms, mounted his horse and rode away.

Never to return.

End of flashback

Glorfindel recognised the faraway look in Elrond’s eyes and left quietly.  He 
knew his Lord had never really recovered from Legolas’ betrayal, only 
hidden it better.  He hoped the young Prince was not here to cause more 
trouble, as he was not sure Elrond could survive that again…

Elrond came back to the present when he heard the door quietly close and 
realised he was alone.  He silently cursed himself for not being able to hide 
his feelings from his friend.  If he couldn’t do that, then how on earth would 
he be able to face the one that had caused them?

He found he was soon to find out when there was another knock at the door.

“Enter,” he said firmly.

The door opened and there stood his golden prince, looking as beautiful as the 
day he had gone away.  He stood up as Legolas approached the desk.

“Welcome to Rivendell, Prince Legolas,” he said formally, offering his hand 
to the younger elf.

“Greetings, Lord Elrond,” Legolas replied equally formally, reaching for the 
outstretched hand.  Both felt the tingle as skin met skin, but neither 
acknowledged it.

Aragorn watched the stilted meeting from the doorway, his confusion 
heightening.  They seemed almost afraid of each other, to his way of thinking, 
which seemed strange as he thought they hated each other.  That was why he 
had hovered in the doorway - to stop things if they got out of hand.

“You may go, Estel,” Elrond said calmly, his eyes flicking to him briefly, 
before returning to the one in front of him.

Aragorn nodded and closed the door, determined to find either the twins or 
Arwen and get the truth out of them.  However, his plans were abruptly 
changed by the appearance of Glorfindel.

“Is Legolas in there?” Glorfindel asked sharply.

“Yes he is,” replied Aragorn.  “And he and Elrond were acting very 
strangely.”

“Hardly a surprise,” Glorfindel said, the worry plain on his face.  “Do you 
know why he’s here?”

“Apparently he brings bad news, but I know not what.”

“Just his coming here is bad news enough,” the elf muttered under his breath, 
turning away from Aragorn as if to leave.  Aragorn quickly put a hand on 
Glorfindel’s shoulder and turned him back.

“Why will no one tell me what’s going on?” he hissed angrily.  “I thought 
they loathed each other, but all I saw was fear.”

Glorfindel studied his face carefully.

“At first no one spoke of it because you were too young and we did not 
believe the past would affect you, but then when Elrond learnt of your 
friendship with the Prince of Mirkwood he did not wish to interfere.  He did 
not want you to be influenced by past deeds and feel that you had to give up 
your friend.”

“So Legolas did something terrible to Elrond?” Aragorn asked in disbelief.  
He found it hard to believe that his gentle friend would be capable of hurting 
anyone outside of combat.

“Yes, he did the most terrible thing he could to Elrond,” Glorfindel said 
sorrowfully.

“What?” asked Aragorn impatiently.

“He left him,” the elf replied simply.  “He chose to honour his father’s wishes 
over the love he felt for your foster father.”

Aragorn stared at Glorfindel in amazement.

“They were lovers?”

“Yes, but it went far beyond that...it was very intense.  In all the thousands of 
years I have lived I have never seen anything like it before or since.  Which 
makes Legolas’ decision all the more difficult to understand.”

“Then why did he leave?” asked Aragorn in confusion.

Glorfindel sighed.  “I have already said more than I should and I do not know 
all the reasons.  If you wish to know more, I suggest you speak to Legolas.”

“I’ll do that,” said Aragorn, determination written on his face.  “I will get to 
the bottom of this.”

**************

The tension in the air in Elrond’s study was palpable.  For several long 
seconds they stared at each other until Elrond broke the silence.

“Please, sit down,” he said, gesturing to the seat in front of his desk.

“Thank you,” Legolas replied, pulling the chair out and sitting down.

“I take it there is a reason for this visit,” Elrond said evenly.

Legolas surveyed him with solemn eyes.

“Yes, there is.  I’m afraid I bring grave news from Mirkwood.  The creature, 
Gollum, entrusted to our keeping, has escaped.”

“Escaped!” exclaimed Elrond, unable to hide his dismay and displeasure.  
“How could you let that happen?” he asked accusingly.

“I’m afraid we were too kind to him,” Legolas replied solemnly.  “Though we 
guarded him day and night, we allowed him into the woods to climb a tall tree 
he favoured.  A guard was set at the bottom so he could not escape.  Then, 
one day, he refused to come down and the guards did not wish to climb up 
after him; so they sat by the tree into the night.  It was that night Orcs came 
upon us and though we drove them off, we discovered afterwards that Gollum 
was gone and his guards were slain or taken.  It would seem that the attack 
was made for his rescue.”

“This is indeed a most serious occurrence,” Elrond said with vexation.  “Your 
guards must have been very lazy and careless to allow themselves to be 
caught so.”

Elrond was startled when Legolas jumped from his seat and slammed a fist 
down on the desk.  Nor did he expect the anger flashing in those usually 
gentle blue eyes.

“My younger son was one of the guards that was killed,” he hissed.  “He was 
neither lazy nor careless.  Do not dishonour my family by speaking such 
words.”

Aghast, Elrond also rose.

“I’m sorry, my words were thoughtless,” he apologised.  “They were spoken 
out of anger at the situation, not those involved.  I am sure any son of yours 
would have fought bravely to the end.”

Legolas gave him a strange look that Elrond could not decipher, before 
bowing his head and staring at the desk.

“He was very young,” Legolas replied, voice thick with some inner conflict.  
“That was why he was assigned to the job.  It was not considered 
dangerous…” his voice broke.  Instinctively Elrond circled the desk and laid a 
comforting hand on his shoulder, trying to ignore the inappropriate arousal 
that awakened at their close proximity.

“It must be terrible to lose a child,” he said softly, unable to stop himself 
thinking of how he might lose Arwen to Aragorn and mortality.

Legolas turned his head to look at him, that strange look back in his eye.

“He died honourably in battle,” Legolas replied in a low voice.  “Others have 
suffered worse fates…”

Elrond was slightly shocked at the callous attitude.  If he had not seen how 
emotional Legolas had been a moment ago, he could almost believe he did 
not care.  Suddenly he realised what he meant.

“You mean your brother, don’t you?”

Legolas looked away into the distance, a faraway look on his face.

“No one should have to die like that,” he said in a hoarse whisper.  “I watched 
him waste away before my eyes.  There was nothing anyone could do to save 
him from the poison once it had taken hold.”

Flashback

The snow had come and gone from Rivendell, the leaves had once again 
greened the trees, but still Elrond heard no word from Mirkwood.  He had 
sent many messengers, but all had been turned away before they could even 
enter the forest.  It seemed that Mirkwood had shut itself away from the rest 
of Middle-Earth.

The snow had once again started to fall before he heard anything.  Elladan 
and Elrohir had insisted on going to Mirkwood to try their luck, knowing how 
much it hurt their father to not have Legolas with him.

Elrond looked up eagerly when his sons entered his study.  They had been 
away longer than any of the other messengers, so he was full of hope that 
they brought tidings of his beloved.  

One look at their faces filled his heart with dread.

“Is he alive?” Elrond asked, fearing the answer.

“Yes, he’s alive,” Elrohir replied.  “Unfortunately his brother is not.”

“Glarand is dead?” Elrond asked in disbelief.  “How can that be?”

“He never recovered from the sickness that took Legolas home.  But that’s 
not all…”

“What?” demanded Elrond, losing patience.

Elrohir swallowed hard.  “As he is now crown prince, Legolas decided 
that…He felt that…”

“Oh for Elbereth’s sake, Elrohir!” interrupted Elladan in disgust.  “Father, 
what he’s trying to say is that Legolas has no plans to return to Rivendell.  
What’s more, he has since married the elf-maiden who was betrothed to his 
brother and they already have a son from the union.”

The twins looked on in horror as their father went pale and tried to stand 
only to fall back down, eyes closed.

“How could you just blurt it out like that?” Elrohir said in anger to his elder 
brother.  He rushed to his father’s side.  “Can I get you anything?” he asked 
anxiously.

“No,” said Elrond in a barely audible whisper.  “Just, please, leave me be.”

“But father, we can’t leave you like this,” began Elrohir anxiously.

“Just get out!” he replied in a louder voice.  “I need to be alone.”

As his sons left, Elrond sunk his head in his hands, his mind filled with 
images of his beloved.  Images that now included a beautiful wife and a 
gurgling baby son.  At that moment he hated all three of them…

End of Flashback


Elrond’s grip on Legolas’ shoulder tightened as he relived the past.

“Your brother was a good and noble elf,” he said thickly.  “He is sadly 
missed.”  Indeed he had been one of their chief supporters when their 
relationship had become known to King Thranduil, and had argued 
vehemently for him to let Legolas follow his heart.  The result had been a 
brief two years of happiness for them.  “But enough of old sorrows, when 
there are such terrible new ones.  Tell me, how do your wife and other son 
bear up under the loss?”

“Alemi is full of grief,” Legolas replied dispassionately.  “He was her 
favourite and the loss is almost unbearable to her.  Jarab…he blames himself, 
believing that he should have been able to save his brother.  Though truth be 
told he could have done no more than he did, he killed many Orcs that day 
and I am proud of him.”

“Why are you here?” Elrond asked suddenly, dropping his hand to his side.  
Legolas could not help but notice the vague sense of loss even through his 
surprise at the question.

“As I have told you, to inform you of the escape of Gollum.”

“Anyone could have conveyed that message,” the Lord of Rivendell replied 
gently.  “I mean why are you here when you should be at home grieving with 
the rest of your family?”

“I did not wish to grieve anymore,” he replied stiffly.  “I wished to *do* 
something.  There is far more going on here than the escape of one creature 
and I wish to help in any way I can.”

“But surely those in Mirkwood need you…”

“They do not need me,” replied Legolas sharply.  “Alemi has more than 
enough willing comforters and Jarab is strong and understands my wish to 
help.  He would have come with me if I had allowed it.”

“And why didn’t you?” Elrond asked curiously.

A look of regret crossed the younger elf’s face.

“He is too young and my only heir…and there are other reasons that I cannot 
discuss.” Legolas replied evasively.  There was a very good reason why he 
did not want Elrond and his son to come face to face, but certainly not one he 
could reveal…


Chapter Two – The First Day

After a few more minutes of talk involving Elrond inviting him to the Council 
the following day, Legolas took his leave of the Lord of Imladris, not sure 
whether he was relieved or disappointed that Elrond had made no reference to 
their previous relationship.  He knew he wasn’t the only one to feel the spark 
of attraction that was still there, however inappropriate it seemed in these 
dark times.

Once outside the study, Legolas was immediately met by Glorfindel, who was 
hovering anxiously.  He looked relieved to see Legolas.

“Welcome back,” Glorfindel said neutrally.  “I have had a room prepared for 
you if you would like to follow me.”

Legolas nodded his head, too emotionally wrought at the encounter with 
Elrond to care how the other inhabitants of Imladris acted with him.  Even 
during such a brief meeting he had still felt the pull as strong as ever between 
him and his former lover and he could not help but torment himself with 
wondering if Elrond had felt it as well.

He followed Glorfindel in silence, noting with faint amusement that he had 
been given a room as far from the family wing as possible.  He wondered 
whether this was Glorfindel being diplomatic or his way of subtly stating his 
own disapproval.  He decided there was only one way to find out.

“So Glorfindel,” he began conversationally.  “Do you loathe me as much as 
the twins?”

For a moment the Eldar looked taken aback at the bluntness of the question, 
but quickly recovered and looked at Legolas thoughtfully.

“I cannot say your visit will give me any pleasure – in fact I believe it will 
cause much anxiety – but I do not hate you.  There is far too much else 
happening in the present to worry about that particular past.”

“I understand that there is far more going on than we at Mirkwood are aware 
of?” Legolas replied in a half-question.

“Yes, but that must wait for tomorrow’s Council.”

Legolas found little comfort in his former friend’s words and they remained 
in silence until Glorfindel stopped at a door.

“This is your room, your things have already been brought here,” and then, 
with a slight bow, he left Legolas alone.

With a sigh Legolas opened the door to find a comfortable room with his few 
belongings already packed away.  He had not brought much with him through 
partly believing that he would be turned away before he got in the door and 
partly because his need to get away from his father’s kingdom had been so 
overwhelming he had packed as quickly as possible.

He threw himself down on the large bed and could not help but think of his 
first visit to Imladris all those years ago.  When his father had sent him there 
to see if a union between himself and Arwen would be possible

Flashback

Legolas rode up to the house of Elrond in a mixture of fear and anticipation.  
He had heard much of the beauty of Lady Arwen and desperately hoped she 
would stir his flesh where no other maiden had succeeded.  

Nervously he followed the servant through to where Arwen and her father 
were waiting to greet him.  As he entered the room, he stopped dead, 
transfixed by the vision before him: the dark, cloudy hair; the fine, intelligent 
eyes; the elegant figure…

Suddenly Legolas knew exactly what he had been missing in his three 
hundred years, but what should have been a joyous occasion, filled him with 
despair.  For it was the Lord of Imladris who had captured his heart before 
he had even set eyes on the maiden he had come to court.

Somehow he got through the day without, hopefully, giving himself away.  He 
had tried to limit his glances towards Lord Elrond as much as possible, but it 
would seem his eyes were drawn to him like a magnet.  Every movement, 
every intonation seemed magical to him and the fair maiden beside him 
seemed to fade in comparison.  Legolas’ heart was heavy: there could never 
be a marriage between himself and Arwen.  He knew his father would not be 
pleased.

As early as possible he had begged fatigue and retired to his room, but sleep 
was the last thing on his mind.  He knew he could not stay here without 
revealing his true feelings.  He had to leave as soon as he could find a good 
excuse.

Suddenly, feeling trapped, he longed for the cool breeze and the feel of the 
trees to ease his suffering mind.  Quietly he let himself out of the house and 
headed for the woods he had noticed on his way there.

He leaned his forehead against the firm bark of a tall, stately oak and 
immediately felt a sense of peace flood his mind.  He laid bare all his doubts 
and troubles and let the tree soothe him.

“I should have known a wood-elf would be happier out here,” came an 
amused voice, startling Legolas from his reverie.

“My Lord…forgive me…I could not sleep,” he managed to stammer out, 
mentally cursing the luck that would bring the last person he should see, 
straight to him.

“It’s fine,” reassured Elrond with a faint smile at the prince’s obvious 
agitation.  “You are a guest here, not a prisoner.”

Legolas relaxed slightly, but then Elrond made as if to leave him and 
suddenly he knew he would do anything to prolong this encounter.

“Please, don’t go…I would not be averse to some company…if you are not 
busy?”

“I was only planning a walk in the gardens.  Would you join me?”

Legolas nodded his acceptance with relief and followed Elrond.  For a while 
they walked in silence and Legolas tried to concentrate on the beautiful 
gardens, but the powerful presence at his side was far more enthralling.

“So what do you think of Arwen?” Elrond asked eventually.

“She is very beautiful…a credit to you,” Legolas replied hesitantly.

“But you do not wish to marry her.” Elrond finished for him.

Legolas flicked startled eyes to the dark-haired elf.  “I…” he began, but 
could not think what to say.  Had it been so obvious?

“And even if you would consent, I would not allow it,” Elrond continued 
evenly.

Legolas was hurt, if he thought he wasn’t good enough for his daughter 
then…he mentally drew away from the rest of that line of reasoning, nothing 
good would come of that.

Seeing the pain on his face, Elrond quickly said.  “I did not mean to insult 
you, I simply mean I would not let her marry without love like I had to, and it 
was clear that there was no attraction between you.”

“I’m sorry,” Legolas replied regretfully.  “I am sure most elves would fall in 
love with her at first sight, but I am not one of them.”

“It’s not your fault,” Elrond replied gently.  “I think…perhaps…she is the 
wrong sex?”

For a moment the golden elf looked shocked and then hung his head in 
embarrassment and shame.

“I am sorry, I should never have come here,” he replied in a wretched voice.  
“I truly hoped Lady Arwen would cure me of this affliction…”

“Affliction?” questioned Elrond in astonishment.  “Why would you call it 
that?”

Legolas raised tormented eyes.

“Because it is unnatural.  My father says so and has outlawed it in 
Mirkwood.”

“Your father is a fool,” Elrond said abruptly.  “Love is too precious to be 
qualified.  If you find love – whether it be with a male or female – you should 
be free to embrace it.”

Legolas couldn’t help but stare at him for the passionate force behind the 
words.

“Did you follow your own belief?” he asked earnestly.  A look of sadness 
overcame the face of the older elf.

“I tried,” he replied, his tone reflective.  “But the Valar had other plans for 
me.”

“Your marriage was arranged.” Legolas remembered from earlier.

“Yes.  Galadriel told me it was necessary and, as there was no one else in my 
life, I saw no reason to refuse.”

“It sounds very cold,” Legolas couldn’t help but murmur.

“It was not entirely without happiness.  I have three wonderful children 
whom I love dearly.”

“And your wife?” he asked tentatively.

Elrond sighed.  “She was too good for me.  I just hope she had finally found 
some peace in the West.”

“I cannot believe she was too good for you!” Legolas blurted out without 
thinking.  He blushed.

Elrond looked at him with amusement.

“I will take that as a compliment to myself rather than a disparagement of 
Celebrian,” he said, his tone light.

Suddenly Elrond stopped walking and turned to the younger elf, placing a 
hand on his arm.  Legolas just barely stopped himself jumping as heat flared 
through him at the simple touch.

“There is another reason why I would not wish you to marry Arwen,” the 
elven lord said in a low voice.  Legolas looked into the burning eyes and what 
he saw there was more than he had ever hoped.  He moved infinitesimally 
closer

“What would that be?” he managed to say.

Elrond shifted a little and whispered in his ear.

“Because I would have you for myself.”

Legolas gasped at the unbridled lust in those words and it was but a work of 
a moment to turn his head and capture the other’s lips with his own…

End of Flashback

As he surfaced from his remembrance, he suddenly realised that he had never 
slept in another bed in Rivendell besides its lord’s own, even that first night.  
It was a thought bound to bring a look of sadness to his face.  They had 
fought so hard against his father’s prejudices – and thought they had won – 
but then he had not known the real reason behind them.  Not until it was too 
late…



Chapter Three – Sons of Elrond

Legolas was slightly startled when he heard a knock at the door.

“Enter,” he called, half expecting it to be a servant to call him to dinner.  
Instead he was faced with Aragorn, who looked about as pleased as his foster 
brothers had earlier.

Feeling worried, Legolas swung his legs round off the bed and stood up to 
face him.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me?” Aragorn asked angrily without preamble.

“Tell you what?” asked Legolas almost wearily.  He felt he had gone through 
enough today already without his best friend shouting at him.

“That there is a damn good reason why your presence here is met with 
antagonism; why Mirkwood and Imladris have such ill-feeling towards each 
other; that you were involved with Elrond and then one day just walked out.”

Legolas sighed, he had feared that coming here would finally reveal to 
Aragorn about his relationship with Elrond, but had hoped that it would not 
be so soon.

“I’m sorry, friend,” he said quietly.  “I know I should have told you long ago, 
but I valued our friendship too much to risk it.  I know that was cowardly and 
I apologise.”

Aragorn stared at him, slightly taken aback to see his friend looking so 
defeated.  Slowly he sank down into a chair, watching as Legolas once again 
sat down on the bed.

“I’ve known you a long time,” Aragorn said, the heat no longer in his voice.  
“And I thought I knew you better than most.  I just find it hard to believe that 
you would walk away from someone you were supposed to love.”

“Believe me, it was the hardest thing I have ever done,” Legolas replied 
fervently.  “Tell me, how much do you know?”

“Very little,” the ranger confessed.  “Glorfindel would only tell me that you 
had been involved with Elrond and then you left him – and that was only 
because I demanded to know something.  He told me to come to you if I 
wanted to know the rest…so here I am.”

Legolas studied the face of his friend and saw only a wish for the truth.

“I will tell you the truth,” he replied.  “In some ways it is not as bad as it 
sounds…in other ways, worse.”  The prince drew his legs up to his chest and 
his blue eyes looked far away as he began to talk. 

“I had a brother – an older brother – and we were very close.  When I fell in 
love with Elrond he managed to persuade our father not to disown me and to 
let me come and go from Imladris and Mirkwood as I was wont.”  He stopped 
for a moment and smiled faintly.  “Of course I spent most of my time here, 
but it was good to know I was still welcome home…even if my lover was not 
– one of the condition for my freedom was that Elrond was to stay well away 
from Mirkwood and that no one there was to know of our relationship.

“It was whilst I was here I received a message from my father telling me that 
my brother had been sorely injured in an Orc attack.  As soon as I received 
the message I headed home, anxious to be by his side.  But when I arrived I 
discovered that the sword used to inflict the wound had been poisoned with 
an unknown substance and there was nothing any of our healers could do.  I 
stayed by my brother’s side for three days watching him die.”  He looked at 
Aragorn, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.  “I was so full of grief that I 
did not even realise the implications of his death until my father reminded 
me.  My brother had been betrothed, but they had not yet married, so he left 
no heirs.  Therefore I was now the crown prince of Mirkwood and was 
expected to behave as one.  I-I know it was weak, but I was so stunned over 
Glarand’s death that I accepted father’s words without argument.  After all, 
what right did I have to be happy with my brother gone?”

Aragorn nodded his head, but gave no answer, realising the question was a 
rhetorical one

“So what happened next?” he prompted softly

“The next part is what I am most ashamed of,” Legolas replied, his eyes 
showing his torment.  “Alemi, my brother’s betrothed, was also in a fearful 
state at his death and we almost believed she would follow him.  Somewhere 
in all this madness, my father persuaded both of us that we should marry, that 
it was what Glarand would have wanted.”  Legolas shook his head in 
disbelief and disgust.  “As if my brother would have wanted me to marry his 
love!  That he would have expected me to give up the one I loved!  But in our 
grief we listened to father’s *wise* council and agreed to it.  It was almost 
like being in a dream.  And then, one day, we both woke up and realised what 
a mistake we had made, but it was too late as we were already married.

“We tried to make the best of it, but I am not my brother and it was not long 
before Alemi became bitter that she was tied to one whose love she could 
never win.  And as for me, my guilt was so great over what I had done that I 
could not even bring myself to write to Elrond and reveal my betrayal.  He 
only found out after Elrohir and Elladan came to find me and would not leave 
without answers.”  Legolas fearfully waited for Aragorn’s response.  Two 
hundred years later and he still felt the guilt clear in his mind.  Why, he 
surmised, could he ever expect his forgiveness, when he had never forgiven 
himself?

Therefore he was very shocked when he felt arms go around him and a 
murmured “I’m sorry, I understand now”.

Stunned, Legolas held onto the warmth of his best friend, his face against his 
shoulder and let the tears fall.  He cried for what seemed like hours, he cried 
for all he had lost, all the suffering he had caused, he cried for the death of his 
brother, his son and he cried for the secrets he could not tell.  But most of all 
he cried for the fact that the arms holding him were not the ones he needed 
and that the lips whispering words of comfort were not the ones he cherished 
most in the world.

Eventually Aragorn left and Legolas somehow found the energy to wash and 
change out of his riding clothes into something more suitable for dinner.  He 
guessed the habits of Rivendell would probably not have changed over the 
years and so at the expected time, he headed towards the dining room.

He had just reached the corridor to the main rooms when he encountered the 
twins.

“What the hell are you still doing here?” Elladan snarled at him whilst Elrohir 
looked at him with loathing.

“Your father has invited me to attend the Council tomorrow,” Legolas replied 
levelly, but unable to keep a look of defiance off his face.

“Then more fool him!” burst out Elrohir angrily.  “After the suffering you’ve 
caused him, he should have had you thrown straight out.”

“You are probably right,” the blond elf agreed.  “But I am grateful that he has 
not.  I do not yet know all that has occurred recently, but I wish to help in any 
way I can.”

“We do not need *your* help, princeling,” Elrohir replied scornfully.

“We will see,” Legolas replied quietly.

“As soon as the Council is over I want you gone from here,” Elladan said 
fiercely.  “You are not going to have the chance to hurt father again.”

“I think your father is perfectly capable of looking after himself,” Legolas 
replied a little heatedly.  He was starting to get a little annoyed about the 
over-protectiveness they were showing for Elrond.  Anyone would think he 
was an elfling rather than a great warrior who had fought in the Last Alliance.

“Have you never heard of grief?” Elladan asked bitterly.  “Once he heard of 
your betrayal he sank into the depths of despair.  If he was not a Peredhil we 
would surely have lost him.”

Legolas turned pale.  “I do not believe it,” he whispered, shaking his head in 
denial.  “Elrond is too strong to fade from grief.”  Though even as he said 
those words, it suddenly made sense why the twins hated him so much.  A 
broken love affair was one thing, but if they had nearly lost their father 
because of it…

“It is true,” declared the younger twin.  “So if you have any feelings for him 
at all in that so-called heart, you will stay away from him.”

Legolas nodded numbly, unable to speak and all defiance drained out of him.  
To think he had nearly caused the death of the one he loved.  The only 
comfort he had was that if Elrond had passed, he would surely have followed 
him.

Elladan and Elrohir looking satisfied that their message had hit home, left him 
to his reverie.  Legolas, now having no stomach for food, nor the courage to 
face the one he had nearly killed, instead headed back to his room.

He threw open the doors to the balcony and breathed in the cool night air.  
His fists clenched over the edge of the balcony and his eyes shut tight as he 
unwillingly relived how his father had trapped him…

Flashback

As the days went by and the grief over his brother’s death slowly started to 
dissipate, he realised what a terrible mistake he had made – and from the way 
that Alemi was acting he knew she felt the same way.  As the fog lifted from 
his mind, he knew that all King Thranduil had said was lies; Glarand would 
never have wanted him to part from Elrond and least of all marry someone he 
barely knew so quickly.  Bitterly he realised why his father had been so 
insistent that they marry  so soon, he hadn’t wanted to give either time to 
really understand what they were doing.

It had now been a month since the wedding – four since he had left Rivendell 
– and he had not yet got up the courage to write to his love and tell him of his 
folly.  It has also not helped that for the last few days he had started to feel 
unwell and he had noticed his stomach was slightly distended – though the 
amount of food he was consuming probably had something to do with that.

The Healers were no help and Legolas started to worry that something was 
seriously wrong with him.  That was when Thranduil finally told him the 
truth.

“I know exactly what’s wrong with you,” he said, stony-faced.  Legolas 
looked at him in alarm.

“Then tell me!” he begged.  “I cannot go on without knowing.”

“Our family is cursed.” He replied.

“In what way?” the younger elf asked anxiously.

“Many, many years ago the Valar gave us what they termed a ‘gift’.”  He 
looked at his son almost sorrowfully.  “It is the real reason why I have always 
outlawed males laying with males.  I hoped that after all these years it might 
no longer be true, that it had not been passed on to you…”

“Please father, just tell me what is wrong with me!”

Thranduil gave a deep sigh and then looked his son straight in the eye.

“The gift the Valar gave us was the ability for males to bear children.”

Legolas looked at him, stunned.

“You mean…I’m with child?” he asked in shock.  He brought a hand down to 
his stomach.  “I carry Elrond’s child,” he murmured in wonder.  He didn’t 
know whether to laugh or cry.

“It would seem so,” Thranduil replied.

Legolas looked at his father accusingly.

“So all this expecting me to marry a female to produce an heir was totally 
unnecessary,” he spat out.

“Of course it wasn’t,” protested Thranduil.  “As I said I wasn’t even sure it 
was still true and even if it was there can only ever be one child and there is 
no assurance that it will be male.”

Suddenly Legolas gave a bitter laugh.

“So I could be carrying the future heir to Mirkwood fathered by the Peredhil 
you despise and yet I am married to an elf-maiden I have no feelings for 
because you convinced me it was the only way to beget an heir.  Sometimes 
life is truly ironic!”  He fixed his father with an angry stare.  “You do realise 
you have ruined my life?  I should be in Imladris with the one I love, but how 
can I go back when I am bound to another?”

“You will never go back to Imladris,” Thranduil said coldly.  “Elrond is far 
too proud an individual to take you back now.  Besides this must never get 
out, it would bring shame to the family and the kingdom.”

“And how do you plan to hide it?” Legolas asked angrily.  “It will soon 
become very obvious!  And what about the baby?  How would you hide 
that?”

“When it becomes obvious you will have to stay in your room,” Thranduil 
replied calmly.  As soon as he had realised that his son was pregnant, he had 
quickly decided on a course of action.  “Except for a trusted few, everyone 
else will be told you are still suffering from grief over your brother’s death.”

“But what about the baby?” Legolas repeated, hardly believing what he was 
hearing.

“I will shortly give out the joyous news that Alemi is with child.”

Legolas could not speak as it sank in what lengths his father would go, to stop 
dishonour being spread on his family name.

Of course, Thranduil being Thranduil, everything went as planned.  If any of 
his subjects saw any discrepancies in what they were told, they had the good 
sense not to say - Thranduil was not known for his tolerance of any who 
displeased him. 

The first time Legolas held his son and looked into his grey eye, he knew he 
would always have a part of Elrond with him and he vowed that one day he 
would tell him the truth.





Chapter Four – After the Council

“Why did you do that?”

Legolas was abruptly woken from his reverie by the demanding voice.  After 
the Council – and his pledge to follow the halfling – he had swiftly made his 
way to his favourite, long missed part of the gardens of Rivendell.  It was 
where he had often come to reflect in happier times and though two hundred 
years had passed, little had changed.

He had told himself it was he required solitude to reflect on what he had just 
volunteered for that he had retired here, but in his heart he knew that this was 
the first place Elrond would look for him – if he would look for him at all.  It 
seemed he was not to be disappointed.

Legolas looked down from his perch in an old, proud tree.

“I told you yesterday I would do whatever was necessary to help,” Legolas 
replied evenly.

“You did *not* have to do that.” Elrond replied, his voice rising slightly.

Legolas lightly jumped down from the tree and faced the older elf.

“Never the less it is done and cannot be undone.  I have given my word to the 
halfling and I will not break it.”

“Since when has your word come to mean so much?” the dark-haired elf 
asked heatedly.  “I remember a time when you gave solemn promises only to 
break them without thought.”

“I have never done that!” exclaimed Legolas, stunned by the anger in 
Elrond’s face and voice.

“You made a promise to me that you would come back before the first snow.  
I do not consider two hundred years later in keeping with your vow…or any 
of the other vows you made to me.”

The younger elf looked at Elrond speechlessly.  He had not expected him to 
bring up the past, and what they had once been to each other, not after the 
painfully polite avoidance of the subject the day before.

“I could not help it, you know that.  Not coming back was the hardest thing I 
have ever done.  Maybe that is the reason why I must keep the promise I have 
made now.”  Legolas thought he caught a glint of sympathy evident in the 
other’s pale grey eyes and perhaps something more.  Whatever the reason, his 
voice was softer when he next spoke.

“Your father will not be happy.  After all you are his heir and this quest is 
very dangerous.”

“My father is not my keeper and I have learnt the hard way that his counsel is 
not always the wisest.”  His eyes were stormy and his voice was bitter and 
Legolas could see his former lover was taken aback by the conflict that was 
plain in his words.  “And if indeed it is my destiny to die on this quest then I 
will not hide from it.”

Elrond studied the fair face before him.

“Is that your wish, Legolas?” he asked quietly.  “To die honourably?”

“I did not say that,” the prince protested.  “Only that it is a possibility of 
which I am well aware.”

“Then why did you volunteer?” Elrond asked.

“Because I am the best archer in Mirkwood or Rivendell, and because 
Aragorn is a dear friend who deserves my loyalty.”  He hesitated.  “And also 
because if an elf has to be a part of this fellowship I would prefer it to be one 
who has fewer ties to this world than say Elladan or Elrohir, who would be 
sorely missed.”

“Do you really believe that?” Elrond asked incredulously.  “What about your 
father, your son…your wife?”

“My father hates me, he has never forgiven me for trying to follow my heart – 
the only use I was to him was to provide an heir to carry on the line and now I 
have fulfilled that he has no more interest in me.  My son would miss me, but 
as I have said he is strong and would soon recover.  As for Alemi…” his tone 
turned cold.  “She would rejoice in her freedom.”

Elrond could not suppress a shiver at the ice in those pale blue eyes and the 
bitterness in his voice.  He could not help but mourn the loss of the innocent, 
uncomplicated soul he had once known.  He realised, whatever he may have 
thought to the contrary, life had become a bitter disappointment to the 
younger elf.

“I cannot believe the one you are bound to would rejoice in your passing,” 
Elrond replied.

“We may be bound by marriage, but there is little else between us.  She does 
not love me and I do not love her.  It has been many years since we have 
touched…in fact it has been many years since I have been touched by 
anyone,” he admitted softly, his eyes not leaving his ex-lover’s face.

Elrond’s heart beat faster at these words and a flare of lust went straight to his 
groin as he remembered the touches they had freely bestowed on each other 
many years ago.  Whatever Legolas saw in his face, he misinterpreted it.

“Do not worry”, he said, smiling sadly.  “I am not propositioning you…I 
know our time has long since passed.”  But the hint of longing was not 
missed by the other’s sharp ears and at that moment all he wanted to do was 
cup that beautiful face with his hands and kiss away all the sadness and pain 
reflected in it.

He clenched his fists at his side to stop them doing as he wished.  As much as 
he hated to admit it, he knew Legolas was right…their time had passed…

“I must go now,” he all but whispered, turning away abruptly.

Legolas watched him go.  Once the lord was out of sight, he pressed his 
forehead against the tree and let the silent tears fall.  He knew he had been 
weak and revealed more than he ought, but he knew he had also seen the 
unguarded lust in the other’s eyes.  For a moment he had dared hope…

Even as he told himself it was all for the best and an unnecessary 
complication of an already complicated situation, he still knew, given the 
opportunity, he would willingly give himself again to the lord of Imladris.

*******

Over the next couple of months, Legolas saw very little of Elrond; partly to 
avoid temptation and partly because he spent much of his time with Aragorn 
searching the west as far as Tharbad for tidings of the Riders or Gollum.  He 
knew others had entered Mirkwood, but he had consciously chosen the 
opposite direction.  Not that anyone had any luck.

He was relieved that Elladan and Elrohir had been sent off on a special, and 
secret, mission for their father.  They had not taken the news well that he was 
to be part of the Fellowship and so would be at based at Rivendell until they 
set out.  They had acted as if it was some great conspiracy to insinuate his 
way back into their lives…and their father's bed.  That always made him 
laugh bitterly.  He had truly been shocked to hear the extent of Elrond's grief 
over him and, as every moment spent in the dark-haired lord's presence made 
it more difficult for him to ignore the draw between them, he had determined 
to see him as little as possible.  He would not let his desire cause the other 
any more pain.  Not unless he could find a way around his own guilt…



Chapter Five – The Evening Before Departure

Legolas sat down at the small writing desk in his room.  It was time to write 
the hardest letter of his life.  He had been at Rivendell more than two months 
now and had only had one message conveyed home early on to say that he 
had arrived safely, but would not be returning in the near future as he was 
needed here.  Why exactly he was needed he did not say, not just because it 
wasn't sensible to write down anything to do with the ring, but because he did 
not want his father to find out about the Fellowship until it was too late for 
Thranduil to stop him.

But now the time had come to write at least part of the truth down, but it was 
not to King Thranduil that he wrote, it was his wife, Alemi.

Slowly and with many pauses and crossings out, he told her that he was part 
of an important plan to stop the darkness that was taking over more than just 
Mirkwood.  Now for the difficult part…

“I do not know quite how to say this, but it must be said.  What 
I am about to do will probably bring about my death, but even 
if it does not and we are successful, I will not return to 
Mirkwood.  You know as well as I do that I have never had the 
desire to rule and so I abdicate all my responsibilities as 
Crown Prince to Jarab.  Please tell him that I am sorry for 
doing this to him but I feel I have little choice…that fate has 
chosen a different destiny for me.

There is just one more thing I must say.  I know you have never 
loved me and you know my heart is already taken, and so I 
believe it is finally time to do what we have both been avoiding 
for many years.  In the enclosed package you will find the ring 
you gave me.  Our marriage has been a travesty for too 
long…and as of this moment I consider it dissolved.

Please remember that I care for you and I do not do this 
lightly, but done it must be.

				Yours respectfully

						Legolas”

It was done.  Carefully he wrote it out again and folded it into three before 
writing Alemi’s name on it.  The final thing left to do was to remove his 
wedding ring.  As he removed it he felt as if he was released from his prison.  
His heart and soul felt perceptibly lighter.  He wrapped the golden band up in 
a piece of material and put it on top of the letter.  He had already arranged for 
a messenger to convey it to Mirkwood, but that would not be until the 
following morning, when he left himself.

Standing up gracefully, he headed for the bathroom to clean up before the 
final task he had set for this evening.  He just hoped this would be more 
pleasurable than the previous tasks…

********

Elrond stood on the private balcony of his chambers deep in thought, not even 
noticing the deep purple of the sky or the twinkling stars adorning it.  
Tomorrow the fellowship would leave Rivendell and head inexorably for 
Mordor…and with them would go two whom he loved dearly.  Aragorn, he 
understood – it was his destiny – but why Legolas would take this on himself 
still remained a mystery.

It had been over two months since the golden prince had returned to 
Rivendell and Elrond had been restless ever since.  It had been pointless to 
deny it to himself.  He still loved him.  At night his body ached knowing that 
Legolas slept under the same roof but not in his arms.  Every night he had to 
summon all his willpower not to go to him.  Elrond knew he was not delusive 
in believing that Legolas still felt the physical attraction between them.  Just 
one look in those blue eyes full of hunger was enough.

And now, tonight, was his last chance.  Tomorrow he would be gone and he 
would be left with what might have been once again.  Yet he knew he would 
still do nothing.  Legolas himself had said it was too late for them.

Elrond suddenly stiffened as he heard a soft knock at the door.  Surely it 
couldn’t be…?  He instantly stifled his hopes.  It would just be Glorfindel or 
the twins checking up and worrying about him as usual.  He decided to ignore 
them.  If he couldn’t have the one he wanted, he’d rather be alone.

At the sound of the door opening he looked around in surprise, his family 
respected his privacy too much to walk in where they were not wanted.  A 
small gasp left his mouth when he saw the object of his thoughts standing 
there almost as if he had called him.  Dressed in a loose fitting grey robe and 
no braids in his slightly damp, golden hair, Elrond thought he had never 
looked more ethereal…or more desirable.  He came in from the balcony and 
looked at the other elf.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, cursing when he heard the tremble in 
his own voice.

“I needed to speak to you in private one last time before I left,” Legolas said 
softly, closing the door and leaning back against it.

“Say what you have to say and leave,” Elrond replied roughly.  Standing in 
his bedroom where they had spent so many nights of passion – where Legolas 
had belonged solely to him - was far too intimate.  Unbidden images flashed 
before his eyes making his groin flare with lust.

“Actually it was more a request,” he took a couple of steps towards the older 
elf.  “I have seen you looking at me and I want to know if it is why I think.”

“And what do you think it means?” Elrond asked, his mouth dry.

“That you still desire me,” Legolas replied simply.  He kept his eyes fixed on 
the silvery grey orbs, half expecting a denial, but none was forthcoming

“Who could not desire you?” asked Elrond wryly.  “You are, and always have 
been, enchanting.”

Legolas took a few more steps towards Rivendell’s lord so he was close 
enough to touch him.  Heart pounding, he knew it was now or never.

“I do not ask for your heart…I forfeited the right to that many years ago.  All 
I ask for is one night to give me something sweet to remember in the dark 
nights that must follow.”

He raised a trembling hand to the noble face before him and caressed his 
cheek.  Elrond stood as still as a statue under his touch, neither moving 
towards, nor moving away.

Desperate for a reaction, Legolas closed the gap between their bodies, one 
arm sliding around his lord’s waist and the other losing itself in the dark hair.

At first the lips he touched with his own were cool and unresponsive and for a 
moment Legolas despaired.  But then he saw the flare of need in the other’s 
eyes and the mouth under his opened, inviting him to explore the hot, moist 
cavern.

Reluctantly, Legolas pulled himself away, guilt suffusing his body.

“If you don’t want this, say now and I will leave,” he said desperately.  “I 
don’t want to feel I have forced you…”

“I want this, Legolas,” Elrond assured him raggedly, the need etched plain on 
his face.  “It is all I have thought about since you came back into my life.”  
And with that it was he who closed the gap between them, greedily meeting 
the lips that he had spent too many night dreaming about.

The passion that had long simmered, boiled over in a frantic tangle of lips and 
tongues and urgently bestowed caresses.  Neither could get close enough to 
the other, so deep was the need that had risen up in both of them.

They made their way over to the bed, never letting go of each other, and with 
eager hands making short work of the clothes that were an irritating barrier 
between them and the naked skin they craved.

Elrond pushed the prince roughly down onto bed, quickly covering his body 
with his own, desperate to taste and feel what had once been so familiar.  He 
traced a path of kisses down Legolas’ neck, whilst his hands explored the 
bow-hardened muscles of his arms and chest.

“As beautiful as I remember,” Elrond whispered reverently, making his way 
further down the golden body beneath him.  Pausing to suck in an already 
hard nipple and biting down firmly.  Legolas arched into the touch in both 
pleasure and pain, calling out his lover’s name.

Satisfied with this response, he kissed down the chest and onto the flat 
stomach that rippled under his touch.  He stopped dead when he came to an 
unexpected mark just below the bellybutton.  He traced a finger along the thin 
white scar.

“What did you do here?” asked the older elf with faint concern.  Legolas 
looked down with passion-glazed eyes which cleared instantly when he saw 
what he was examining.

“It is nothing,” Legolas said hastily.  “A mere scratch in battle.”

Elrond looked at him, puzzled.

“But it must have been deep to leave such a mark as this and the line is 
strangely thin and straight…”

“It is *nothing*,” Legolas repeated firmly.

That his lover was hiding something, Elrond was sure, but this was not the 
time to seek answers.  There was a much more urgent task that begged his 
attention…

He drew his tongue along the white line, revelling in the feeling of the body 
trembling beneath him.  Legolas, relieved that he was not going to question 
further, once more lost himself in the touch he craved.

Finally Elrond came to the physical evidence of his lover’s passion, hard and 
leaking.  Gently he licked the very tip, pressing down on the hips that wanted 
to thrust up to meet him.

“Patience, my dear Legolas,” he whispered.  “If this is to be a sweet memory 
for you I will handle it my own way.”

Sighing, Legolas relaxed beneath him, submitting willingly to whatever the 
elven lord had planned.  He knew from experience he would not be 
disappointed.

He could not suppress a gasp though as his arousal was swallowed down, 
entirely cocooned in the warm, wet haven of his lover’s mouth.  All too soon 
he could feel heat rising within him and the threat of release looming near.  
He moaned and abruptly he felt a rush of cold air as his member was released 
from its prison.

“Not yet, my prince,” murmured Elrond.  “It has been too long to let it be 
over so quickly.”

Elrond shifted up Legolas’ body, reaching for a small bottle on the table by 
his bedside.  The golden haired elf’s eyes grew dark with anticipation as his 
lover poured a generous amount onto his fingers before setting it aside.

The first fingertip at his most intimate entrance pulled a hiss from the prince 
even as he shifted his hips to allow for better access, moaning with pleasure at 
that he had not felt for two centuries.  As the older elf took his time preparing 
him, Legolas grew impatient again.  With a quick flip of his body he reversed 
their positions.

“I want you now,” he growled, reaching behind him and grasping his lover’s 
arousal, holding it steady against his willing entrance.

Any protest Elrond was going to make was swiftly forgotten as Legolas 
impaled himself in one abrupt thrust down.  Neither could with hold their 
groans as they became one.  They moved together in the practised movements 
of old lovers, each knowing how to give the other the most pleasure.

*********

Legolas listened to the regular breathing of his lover and wondered at the 
serene expression on his face bathed in the moonlight.  All he wanted to do 
was lay there and surrender to the peace of being held in the strong arms of 
the one he loved, but he knew that would be a mistake.  In their coupling 
neither had spoken any words of love and on his part that had been on 
purpose.  He considered it unfair to make any promises he could not keep, but 
he knew if he woke up still in his lover’s arms he would not be able to stop 
himself.

Silently – and regretfully – he slid out of Elrond’s tight embrace, wincing as, 
even in his sleep, a look of bereftment overcame his lover’s handsome face at 
the loss of the one he held.

Legolas could not resist placing one last soft kiss on his lips.

“I love you,” he whispered softly, daring to say what he could not when his 
beloved was awake.  “I always have and I always will.”

Moving away from the bed, he dressed quickly.  Finally he looked back one 
last time trying to imprint the image in his mind, before leaving the room.

*******

Elrond turned over, reaching sleepily for his lover.  He awoke abruptly when 
he discovered a cold space where he had imagined him to be.  A wave of 
desolation overtook him.  Legolas had done it again.  He had left him…

*******

With the morning came the leaving of the Fellowship from Imladris.  Elrond 
was his normal composed self to those who didn't know him well, like the 
hobbits, but to those closest to him, they could detect a distinct desolateness 
to his manner.  He said farewell to each in turn, but when his grey eyes met 
the sky blue ones of his lover, his emotions tightened his throat at the thought 
he may never see him again.  So instead he merely nodded.  He did not think 
of the effect this would have on Legolas; did not realise that the young prince 
would believe this a sign that he regretted their night together.

Aragorn was not the only one to look calculatingly between the prince and the 
lord.  That something *had* happened was unmistakable, but exactly what, 
they could not discern.



Chapter Six – Lothlorien

Legolas had been surprised when Galadriel had requested his presence and he 
went with trepidation in his heart.  This was the mother of Elrond’s wife and 
also a powerful elf who could see your deepest thoughts.  Not a combination 
he wished to confront on his own.  Her first words confirmed his fears.

“I know you still love my daughter’s husband and I know you carried his son 
and have kept this from him,” she said calmly.  Legolas looked at her in 
dismay.

“I am sorry,” he said.  “I cannot help loving him, but I never knew I could 
carry a child.”

“Do not blame yourself, young Prince.  Fate had brought you along this path, 
but now you have come to a fork in where you must choose your own 
destiny.”

Legolas looked at her confused.

“I do not understand,” he confessed.  “I see only one path…and that leads to 
Mordor.”

“You could choose to stay here…or even go back,” she replied, her blue eyes 
seeming to see right through him.

“I must go on,” he instantly replied.  “I will not fail Frodo.”

“But what if you had another to consider?”

“Another?”

“Your child.”

“What do you mean?” he asked in alarm.  “Is Jarab in trouble?”

“No,” she replied. “I do not speak of your son, I speak of your daughter.”

“But I do not have a daughter!” Legolas replied in bewilderment.

“Not yet, but even now you carry her inside you.  A second daughter for 
Elrond.”

“I am pregnant?” Legolas asked in disbelief.  “It cannot be true!  The Healers 
said it was only possible for me to have one child.”

“None the less it is true,” she assured him.  “The choice you must make is a 
difficult one.  To go on could risk both your lives, but to turn back may risk 
the quest.”

“What should I do?” pleaded Legolas.  “Surely you can tell me?”

“Both paths are dark to me,” she admitted.  “This is a decision I cannot make 
for you.”


Legolas’ head was whirling as he left the presence of the Lady of the Woods.  
He desperately wished for someone to confide in, someone to counsel him.  
His thoughts immediately turned to Aragorn, but were just as expediently 
dismissed.  For one the future king had more than enough burden with the 
death of Gandalf without another thing to worry him.  Plus, as his child would 
be a sister to his beloved Arwen, he did not think he would get unprejudiced 
advice.

His thoughts turned to the others in his group, the hobbits he summarily 
dismissed, they were simple folk and would probably have difficulty 
understanding his predicament.  Boromir, he considered too wrapped up in 
his own problems.  Suddenly he desperately wished for Gandalf, who could 
always be counted on for wise, if not necessarily immediately lucid, 
judgements.

His eyes went to the dwarf, Gimli, and instantly he knew his choice was 
made.  In the time they had spent together he had begun to appreciate his 
steady values and outspokenness.  If anyone would listen and advise without 
bias, he believed Gimli would.

Nervously he approached the dwarf, who stared at him through narrowed 
eyes.

“Would you care to walk with me, Gimli?  I would like to show you more of 
the beauty of Lothlorien.”

If the question surprised the dwarf, he hid it well, perhaps seeing some of the 
turmoil evident on the elf’s face.  He merely nodded his assent and followed 
Legolas out of the small clearing.

They walked some way without speaking, until Legolas was sure they were 
out of the range of even the elves keen hearing.

“You have something on your mind,” Gimli stated.  “Is it something to do 
with what Lady Galadriel spoke about with you?”

Legolas sighed.  “Yes, it is.  I desire your counsel if you would hear me.  
Though I must warn you that the subject is a delicate one and I do not wish to 
cause you affront.”

“There is little left in this world that would shock me,” the dwarf replied 
wryly.  “I would be glad to hear your woe, though I am a little surprised you 
would confide in me rather than another elf.”

Legolas could not help a small smile.

“Though these elves are my kin, I know them not and I would not feel 
comfortable speaking to any of them on this subject.”

“Then I am honoured, Master elf and will gladly listen to you, though I do not 
admit of any real ability to give good advice.”

They continued walking through the forest, Legolas pondering how to start.

“Lady Galadriel has told me of something most disturbing,” Legolas began 
hesitantly.  “Something I did not believe could happen to me again.”

“Are you ill?” asked Gimli, concern showing on his face.

“No, not ill exactly, but it does concern my health…my body…”

Gimli looked at him, puzzlement plain on his face.

“If you do not spit it out, I cannot possibly help you,” he said.

Legolas tool a deep breath and mentally prepared himself.

“Galadriel told me…she said…that I carry a child…a daughter…inside of 
me.”

Gimli stopped dead and gazed at the elf in disbelief.

“That is absurd,” he blustered.  “You are male, you cannot carry a child.”

“It is not absurd and I know perfectly well it is possible,” Legolas replied 
quietly, but firmly.  “I know because I have already borne a son.”

“A son?  I understood you had two sons with your wife and one of those…” 
he trailed off realising what he was saying and looked at the elf 
apprehensively to see if he had caused offence.

“Jarab, my eldest son and who is still living, is not a product of my union 
with Alemi.  Though I did not know it at the time, I already carried him when 
I was wed.”

“And the father?  I assume there *is* another male involved?” Gimli asked, 
trying to keep his tone level.

“Yes, there is.  But he knows nothing of his unwitting fatherhood.”

“And this latest one?” a horrifying thought rose unbidden to mind.  “It’s not 
Aragorn’s is it?”

Despite the situation, the elf could not contain a chuckle at the look on 
Gimli’s face.

“Nay, Aragorn is a dear friend, but his love for Arwen consumes him.  Both 
my son and my future daughter share the same father.”

“And who is that?” asked Gimli before he could stop himself.  He held up a 
hand.  “No, do not feel you have to answer that, it is none of my business.”

“No Gimli, that I have come to you means I should be totally honest with 
you,” Legolas replied earnestly.  “But you must promise not to speak of this 
to anyone.”

“You have my word.” Gimli replied a little gruffly.

Unconsciously Legolas rested a hand on his stomach.

“The father is the Lord of Imladris,”

“Lord Elrond?” the dwarf asked, startled.  Once again stunned where he 
thought nothing else could.

Legolas told him, without restraint, of their shared history and the brief 
rekindling only a month before.

“And now I do not know what to do,” Legolas finished.  “I pledged my life to 
this quest, little knowing that I would be pledging another life – an innocent 
life – as well.  You should know I had not planned to return from this journey 
no matter what the outcome.”

Gimli was shocked.  “You mean you…?”

“Wished to die?  Perhaps.  All I know is that I had no plans to return to 
Mirkwood or Rivendell.”  He looked at Gimli pleadingly.  “What do I do 
now?  I do not wish to risk the life of my child, but I do not wish to leave this 
quest.  I feel that I am needed here.”

Gimli looked at him in contemplation.

“Truth be told, your bow would be sorely missed if you turned back.  I am not 
sure we would have escaped the mines of Moria without you.  But I cannot 
make such a serious decision for you.  Do not make a rash decision now, 
however, whilst the news is still so young.  You must think long and hard 
before deciding upon a course of action.”

Legolas nodded solemnly.

“You are right, my friend, but I would appreciate having your ear again.  You 
make me see things more clearly.”

“I will always be a willing listener,” the dwarf replied gravely.  “Though I 
think you should make Aragorn aware of the situation.”

“No, I will not burden him further,” the elf firmly replied.  “This must stay a 
secret between us if I do go forward with you.”

Gimli grunted in the affirmative, but showed his displeasure.  In silence they 
turned back towards the settlement.

“Do you still love him?” Gimli suddenly asked out of nowhere.

“I gave my heart into his keeping the moment we met,” the elf replied softly, 
his tone wistful.  “And there it will dwell for all eternity.”

Gimli felt an unbidden wetness fill his eyes at the sadness of the other’s tone 
and blinked it back furiously.  It was at that moment he swore that, if Legolas 
did remain with the quest, he would protect him with his own life.



Chapter Seven – Helms Deep & Back In Imladris

“This is too dangerous,” the dwarf growled at the golden elf who stood before 
him.  “You should not risk yourself in such a way.”

“I will stand by yours and Aragorn’s side as always,” Legolas replied 
stubbornly.  “I will not cower and hide in fear with the women and children.”  
He looked at the dwarf he now considered his dearest friend through 
narrowed eyes.  “Besides,” he said more softly.  “I know you will not let 
anything happen to me.”

“I will do my best as ever,” Gimli replied.  “But this will be a full blown 
battle and I cannot guarantee I will be able to stay by you.”

“Then I must take my chances like everyone else.”

“If you do not think of yourself, think of your child,” pleaded Gimli.

Legolas placed a hand on his still flat stomach.

“I would rather my child had a free world to come into, than be born into the 
darkness of Sauron’s reign.  Better we both die here than submit to that.”

“What the hell is going on?” demanded an incensed voice from the doorway.  
Both Legolas and Gimli spun round to face Aragorn.

“Nothing is going on,” Legolas said quickly.  “We were just talking.”

“Aye, I heard you talking and I heard more than I wanted.”  The ranger stared 
at Legolas.  “Is what I heard true?  Are you with child?”

Meeting his gaze, Legolas slowly nodded his head.

“Unbelievable,” Aragorn whispered, looking dumfounded.  “I had heard tales 
of such things being possible among elves, but I never thought they were 
true.”

“Believe it, Aragorn,” the elf told him wryly.  “Galadriel herself told me.”

“Galadriel?” he said, his temper flaring again.  “You have known about this 
since Lothlorien and yet you did not tell me.  If I had known I would never 
have let you come this far…”

“And you wonder why I did not tell you?” Legolas replied angrily.  “It was 
my choice to follow you and I do not regret it for a moment.”

“Even though we will possibly all die tonight?” Aragorn asked, eyes flashing.

“I regret nothing,” the elf repeated icily.  “And I will do all I can to prevent 
that outcome.”

“No you will not,” the man replied, equally coldly.  “You will stay down 
here, away from danger.”

“Danger is everywhere,” snapped Legolas.  “You are my friend and I follow 
you gladly, but you do not rule me.  I will do what my honour as a prince of 
Mirkwood tells me to do.”  He looked at his friend challengingly.

Just then Gimli touched Aragorn’s arm.

“It’s no good arguing with him, he will do as he sees fit,” the dwarf said 
gently.  “Besides even those still in their childhood are being made to fight.”

“But not an unborn babe,” protested Aragorn.

“This is my child,” Legolas said quietly.  “I do not make the decision lightly, 
but I *have* made it.”

“And what of the father?” demanded the Ranger.  “Does he have no rights?”

“No he does not.  He is far away and knows nothing of this child.  And I do 
not know if he would even care…” Legolas finished sadly.

“Whose is it?” Aragorn asked, almost gently.  “For a brief moment I hoped 
that it was Elrond’s and you and he had reconciled, but your words lead me to 
believe this cannot be.”

“You are half right, Ranger,” the elf said with a sad half smile.  “We have not 
reconciled, but we did spend the night together before we left Rivendell, and 
the child I carry is indeed his.”

Aragorn was suddenly struck by a thought.  “A brother or sister to Arwen,” 
he said with wonder.

“A sister…or so Galadriel has foreseen.”

“And yet you still expect me to let you fight?” he asked exasperatedly.

“I expect you to *let* me do nothing.  I *will* fight regardless.”

“Then let us hope we prevail.” Aragorn said, finally accepting the elf’s 
determination.

“Do not worry, Aragorn.  I will stay close by him.” Gimli reassured.

Aragorn, put a hand on Gimli’s shoulder.

“I’m sure you will be a staunch ally as ever,” he said soberly.  He flicked a 
glance between the dwarf and the elf.  “Now I see why you have become such 
friends.”  And with that he left them alone.

“Well that could have gone better,” remarked the dwarf.

Legolas sank down to his knees, his legs no longer able to hold him up.

“He will tell Elrond,” he whispered, his face pale.  “And then what shall I 
do?”  His only comfort was that Aragorn did not know Jarab’s true parentage.

Gimli stared at the elf, but saw the question had been rhetorical and he had 
sunk into a deep reverie.

“‘Tis all for the best…probably,” muttered the dwarf.  But just then there 
were cries from above and battle was upon them…

*******

Elrond sat in his study, but work was the furthest thing from his mind.  
Messengers from Lothlorien had informed him that the Fellowship had 
passed through there and the fall of Gandalf, but since then he had found the 
Istari was very much alive.  But now he felt that the war against Sauron and 
Saruman had come to a critical point, one that his foster son and his love were 
deeply embroiled within.  Now his sons were also travelling towards Rohan 
to who knew what danger.  Though even if he had been able to, he would not 
have stopped them.

He was startled out of his dark thoughts by the entry of Glorfindel looking 
strangely agitated.

“What is it?” he asked resignedly.

“There is an elf from Mirkwood wishing to speak with you.”

Elrond nodded tiredly.  He had been expecting something from Thranduil for 
a long time.  He imagined he was most displeased that his son had not 
returned home.

“Send him in,” Elrond replied.

“Don’t you want to know his name first?” Glorfindel asked with an 
inscrutable look on his face.

“Why?  Do I know him?”

“You have not met him, but you have certainly *heard* of him.”

“Just tell me who he is,” the half-elf said irritably.  He was in no mood for 
games.

“He says his name is Prince Jarab, son of Legolas.”

Elrond stood up in shock.  “What is he doing here?” he demanded.

“I have no idea,” the Eldar replied composedly.  “He said he would speak 
only to you.”

“Then send him in,” he repeated.

Glorfindel bowed and left the room.  A few - very impatient - minutes later, 
the door once again opened and a young, golden-haired elf stood there.

Elrond gazed at him for a moment and got the strange feeling that the elf 
reminded him of someone – but that person wasn’t Legolas.  Yes, the son had 
his lover’s colouring, but the eyes were more grey than blue and there was an 
air of regalness that Legolas had never possessed, few did, and certainly not 
at this age.  He also did not seem to have the litheness one would expect of a 
wood-elf; he seemed more sturdy somehow.  Elrond could not help but 
wonder if there was a hint of human somewhere in Alemi’s bloodline…

Suddenly he realised he was staring and quickly composing himself, he went 
through the usual formalities until they were both settled, drinks in hand.

“So what brings you to Imladris, Prince Jarab?” Elrond asked.

“Just Jarab will do,” the young elf replied.  “The reason I have come here is 
that I need to know what my father is involved in and whether there has been 
any news of him since he left here?”

Elrond nodded gravely.  “I can understand your concern and your wish to 
know more.”  And with that he proceeded to tell the young prince of the quest 
and as much as he knew of what had happened since.  Once he had finished, 
Jarab frowned.

“So it is true what he wrote then, that this quest is incredibly dangerous.”

“Yes,” replied Elrond.  “But I have every confidence in your father.”

“More confidence than he had in himself then!” Jarab retorted.  He reached 
into the pocket of his tunic and brought out a rather ragged piece of paper.  
“This is the only message he sent my mother during his stay at Rivendell and 
there does not appear to be much hope in it.

With a worried look, Elrond took the paper from the extended hand and read 
it through.  His face grew paler as he read it through and he could barely stifle 
an exclamation as he read that Legolas had dissolved his marriage and 
abdicated his position as Crown Prince.  Finally, with a sigh, he put it down 
and looked levelly at the elf in front of him.

“What do you expect me to say?” he asked.

“I want you to tell me to whom he refers when he says his heart was already 
taken before he married my mother?”

“Somehow I think you already know that,” Elrond replied.

“I have what my mother has told me, but I wish to hear it from your lips,” 
Jarab said angrily.  “And I also want to know if *you* are the reason my 
father has left my mother and his home for good?”

“Not knowing what your mother has told you, I can only tell you what is true.  
Yes, Legolas and I were involved for several years before he married your 
mother.  It was he who ended it and chose instead to honour his father’s 
wishes for him to marry your mother.”  He took a deep breath.  “As for the 
rest of your question.  No, I am not the reason that he has decided not to 
return to Mirkwood – in fact until I read this letter I had no idea of his plans.  
But I *can* tell you that the blame rests firmly on your grandfather’s 
shoulders.”  He looked at the Legolas’ son sympathetically.  “Legolas is a 
free spirit that your Thranduil wished to chain down – and succeeded – but 
there would always come a day when he would rebel.  I just hope you can 
forgive him.”

Jarab looked at him strangely.  “There is nothing to forgive.  I am not stupid, I 
knew how my father felt about his duty towards grandfather and our 
kingdom.  However I do not believe that this is enough for him to sever all 
ties with us.  Please tell me the truth…Are you still in love with him?”

Elrond bowed his head, unable to meet the piercing grey of the other’s eyes.

“Yes,” he admitted in a low voice.  “Even when I hated him for leaving, a 
part of me still loved him.  Seeing him again made me realise that I will never 
stop loving him.”  He raised his eyes challengingly, not sure what he would 
find there.  What he had not expected was the beginnings of a smile.

“I am glad,” Jarab said softly.  “My father deserves some happiness.  I am 
sorry if I have pressed you so far, but I needed to be sure.  The reason for that 
is there is something that I must tell you now…something you may find 
difficult to believe…Hell, something I found hard to believe when my mother 
told me!”

Elrond could not keep the confusion from his face.  “What?” he managed to 
say weakly, wondering what more this strange young elf had to say.

“Alemi is not my natural mother,” he replied.

“What?  Then *who*?” asked Elrond in astonishment.  Jarab gave a faint 
laugh.

“I suppose you could say my father is really my mother.  He is the one who 
carried me for more than a year.  He is the one who gave birth to me.”

Elrond’s jaw dropped as this revelation sank in.  “Then…?” He stopped, 
unable to put into words what this meant…or what he hoped it meant.

“*You* are my father.” Jarab said firmly

Suddenly, to Elrond, everything fitted into place.  The vague hints from 
Legolas, the scar that was obviously from the birth and the vague notion of 
familiarity about the other elf.  Now that he knew, it was obvious that Jarab 
reminded him of himself!

“I never realised,” he said shakily.  “I had heard rumours of male elves that 
could have children, but I did not believe it was true.”  He looked at his new 
found son.  “So where do we go from here?”

“I would like to stay here for a while if that is acceptable to you,” the young 
elf replied, for the first time showing a hint of trepidation.  “I would like to 
have a chance to get to know my father.”

Elrond carefully kept hidden the wave of anger that went through him at the 
realisation that Legolas had deprived him of seeing his son grow up.  Had not 
even had the decency to tell him.  Instead he smiled and replied, “I would like 
that very much.”

But deep down, he was not sure if he would be able to forgive this latest act 
of treachery by his lover.  That was, he realised with a sense of forboding, if 
he ever saw him again…



Chapter Eight – The Aftermath

Legolas stood at the gates of Minas Tirith with a swiftly beating heart.  The 
war was over and he had survived – something he had not really expected.  
Now he stood here with his companions awaiting the company of elves that 
had been heralded as arriving from the north.  With his far-seeing eyesight, he 
was the first to see Elladan and Elrohir leading the riders and carrying a 
banner of silver.

During the war, he and Elrond’s twin sons had come to an uneasy truce, and 
they had even fought side by side.  He knew that in their way they respected 
him for what he had voluntarily gone through with the Fellowship, but the 
friendship he had once enjoyed with them was just a distant memory.  They 
still had no idea that he was with child, as they had left to meet their father 
and sister, who were on their way to Gondor by way of Lothlorien, in early 
May.

Now, two months later, Legolas had been forced to resort to the more formal 
robes to cover his rapidly swelling stomach.

He felt a touch on his arm and turned to look at Aragorn – now King Elessar 
– who was viewing him with concern.

“It will be alright,” the former Ranger assured his friend with a smile.  
Legolas nodded numbly.  Aragorn had made him agree to tell Elrond 
everything when he arrived.  The trouble was that Aragorn did not even know 
what *everything* was.  He had no idea that Legolas’ son was also Elrond’s.  
In fact he had never even met Jarab as Legolas had been afraid the sharp eyed 
Ranger would discern the similarity between him and his foster father.

Gradually the rest of the party came into view over the hill and Legolas saw 
many elves he knew, but it wasn’t until the last few riders that he saw the 
sight he had been craving for.  Riding between Arwen and another elf, Elrond 
sat tall and proud on a fine black steed.  Legolas felt both a wave of desire 
and fear go through him.  On one hand he longed to feel the lord’s arms 
around him once more.  However, on the other hand, he dreaded the 
conversation he must have with him which could result on him never being in 
the other’s arms again.

Then, with a start, his gaze became fixed on the all too familiar figure riding 
by Elrond’s side.

“Who is that riding beside Elrond and Arwen?” asked Aragorn.  “I don’t 
recognise him from Rivendell or Lothlorien.”

“That is because he is of Mirkwood,” replied Legolas in a hoarse voice.  
“That is Jarab, my son.”

Legolas heard Gimli give a gasp as he realised the seriousness of the 
situation.

“But why is he with Elrond?” asked Aragorn, looking puzzled.  As they came 
closer, the King scrutinised the figure more closely and suddenly an 
awareness came over his face.  He turned to Legolas accusingly.  “I think 
there is something that you haven’t told me, my friend,” he said coldly.  “And 
if Elrond hasn’t worked it out yet, he will soon.  Though the fact they are 
riding side by side seems to imply they have.”

Legolas looked blankly at his friend, his heart beating wildly.  He had hoped 
to have a chance to explain to his lover what had happened and why he had 
kept it from him in his own words.  Now, it looked like he had been pre-
empted.

At long last the riders arrived at the gates and, with a sharp look at Legolas, 
Aragorn strode forward to greet the riders.  Though, once he stood next to 
Arwen, it appeared that the rest of the world disappeared as his dreams finally 
came true.

Smiling with a mixture of pleasure and pain at what this meant to his 
daughter, Elrond slid from his horse, allowing one of the guards to take the 
reins.  He watched as Jarab did the same.

Elrond and his new found son had spent a large amount of time together since 
his unexpected arrival at Imladris, though only a few (which included Arwen 
and Glorfindel) knew the true state of affairs.  Arwen had welcomed her half-
brother with open arms.  She was delighted to have another sibling, especially 
one so fair and, she soon discovered, with a temperament which matched her 
own.  Both gentle, but with an underlying firmness that brooked no argument.  
Arwen knew her father was also pleased, yet she often caught him with a sad 
and sometimes wistful expression on his face.  She guessed, correctly, that he 
was thinking of what might have been, had it not been for Legolas’ brother’s 
untimely death.

Jarab had not returned to Mirkwood despite his grandfather’s urgent demands 
that he was needed to protect his realm.  Jarab had known full well that King 
Thranduil would not put him at risk whilst Legolas’ fate was still undecided, 
and so had taken the decision to stay in Rivendell and get to know his other 
father.  As soon as the news had come through that Sauron was defeated and 
Legolas lived, there had been no stopping Jarab from travelling to Gondor 
with Elrond and Arwen.  With mixed feelings he met his half-brothers for the 
first time who, he knew from Arwen, had not been kind to Legolas.

At first, before they knew the truth, they had met him with suspicion.  Then, 
after Elrond had revealed their kinship, they had gradually warmed to him 
once the shock had worn off.  Now though, they looked at Legolas with 
narrowed eyes, brushing past him without greeting.  They had promised their 
father they would not confront Legolas until he’d had a chance to speak with 
him.  They could not, however, bring themselves to be courteous.

Elrond had been aware of his lover’s eyes upon him since they had come into 
view.  He saw him standing there uncertainly next to Gimli.  Elrond, with 
little sympathy, could just imagine what was going through his mind.

He held back as he watched Jarab approach his father.

“Ada,” the younger elf said.  For some reason he felt nervous as he stood in 
front of Legolas, his grey eyes noting that his father looked a great deal older 
than he should after a separation of a mere nine months.  He had heard many 
tales of what the Fellowship had gone through, but only now did it finally hit 
home.  Any animosity he had felt towards Legolas for keeping such a large 
secret from him quickly fell away.  He was just glad that his father was alive.  
On impulse he hugged Legolas who, after he got over the surprise, hugged 
him back.  Though he was careful to keep his stomach out of contact.  That 
was something he would prefer not to have to explain in the courtyard in front 
of everyone.

As Jarab released him, Legolas felt the approach of Elrond.  Keeping a hand 
on Jarab’s shoulder, he turned to face his lover.

“Lord Elrond,” he said formally, suddenly taken back to that day many 
months ago in Elrond’s study when he had felt just as apprehensive.  So much 
had happened since then.  “I hope you have had a pleasant journey.”

“Prince Legolas,” Elrond replied in greeting, nodding his head.  “The journey 
was not without incident, for there are still orcs roaming the lands, but we 
were well prepared.”  His eyes flicked quickly to Jarab.  “Your son is a fine 
fighter.”  Legolas was well aware of the trace of irony in Elrond’s voice.  He 
turned back to Jarab.

“You know, don’t you?” he said quietly.  Jarab nodded his head.

“Mother…Alemi…told me the truth after she received your letter.  After that 
I travelled to Rivendell…and resided there until we set out for Gondor.”

Legolas knew his son was leaving much unsaid, but saw that this was not the 
time for details.

“Perhaps you should show Lord Elrond to his chambers,” came a gruff voice 
from low down.  “I will look after Prince Jarab for you.”  Legolas looked at 
Gimli in both surprise and gladness for the opportunity to speak to Elrond 
alone.

“Thank you very much, Gimli,” Legolas replied with a smile.  “Jarab this is 
my very good friend Gimli, son of Gloin.  He will show you to your quarters 
and perhaps give you a tour of the city.”

If Jarab felt any surprise at being left in the hands of a dwarf, he did not show 
it.  He smiled graciously at Gimli.  “It is a pleasure to meet you.  I have heard 
many tales of your valour.”

Gimli nodded, taking an instant liking to the elf who was so much like his 
father.  Side by side they headed off, chatting animatedly.

Silence fell as Elrond and Legolas watched the figures disappear into a 
building.

“If you would care to follow me,” Legolas finally said, his eyes fixed firmly 
away from his lover’s.

Wordlessly Elrond followed the blond elf, unable to help himself from 
admiring the graceful walk of his love.  He was slightly surprised to see 
Legolas wearing the free flowing robes that he himself usually wore.  He 
knew the other elf was not fond of them, preferring the utility of tunics and 
leggings.  He assumed that Legolas must have decided the occasion 
demanded more formality than his usual attire.

All too soon they reached the rooms that had been assigned to the Lord of 
Imladris.  Legolas, shutting the door behind him, leaned on it, and studied the 
older elf.

“So how much do you know?” asked Legolas quietly.

Grey orbs looked at him, the surrounding face becoming hard.

“I have read the letter you sent your wife.  I know that when you left me you 
were carrying my son,” he said coolly.  “I know that you kept him a secret 
from me for two hundred years which I find unforgivable.”

“I didn’t know I was with child when I left,” Legolas said desperately.  “I 
only found out after I had married Alemi and it was too late.”

“You should still have told me!” Elrond replied angrily.  “I had a right to 
know.”

“I could not,” he said in despair.  “It would have been dishonourable to Alemi 
to admit such a thing.  Besides, I did not wish to cause you more pain by 
knowing you had a son that my father would never allow you to see.”

“Why did you do it?” Elrond asked almost softly, the pain obvious in his 
voice.  The question that had haunted him, yet he had never dared to ask, was 
finally wrenched from him.  “Why did you leave me and marry her?”

Legolas shook his head, closing his eyes.

“I was grieving for my brother…we both were.  My father made us believe it 
was the right thing to do.  Of course it wasn’t,” he said bitterly.  “He 
manipulated us, and for that I will never forgive him.”

“And what are your plans now?  Will you return to Mirkwood?”

“I will never reside in Mirkwood again.” Legolas said firmly.  He looked at 
Elrond inscrutably.  “As for the rest of my plans…they depend on you.”

“In what way?” asked the elven lord, suddenly dry-mouthed.

“You said you read the letter I wrote to Alemi and so you know my marriage 
is over.  What I need to know is do you still want me?”

Elrond’s heart fluttered at the words and the faint plea he heard within them.  
It would be so easy to just say yes, but…

“I fear that too much history lies between us for our relationship to work,” he 
said sorrowfully.  He walked over to the window, unable to look his love in 
the face.  “I fear I would not be able to forgive you for keeping my son from 
me for all these years.”

“You did not answer my question,” Legolas said, his voice steady, though his 
heart felt like it would break.  “I asked if you still want me.  You know I still 
love you.”

“Of course I still want you,” the dark haired lord said raggedly.  “I have 
*never* stopped loving you.  But it changes nothing.  We were obviously not 
meant to be.  Surely all the obstacles that have been in our path have taught 
you that?”

“I don’t see it that way,” Legolas said quietly.  “I see it that despite all the 
obstacles and separations, we still love each other.  Surely love that can 
survive so much is worth fighting for?”

“I do not know,” murmured Elrond, for once at a loss.  He was startled when 
he felt a hand on his arm.  He had not even heard the younger elf cross the 
room.  He turned to look at Legolas, whose lovely face seemed full of hope.  
“This quest has changed you,” he observed.  “Before you would never have 
opened your heart as you have now.”

“I have faced death too many times in these past months and my one regret 
was not telling you how I felt when I had the chance,” Legolas replied.  His 
eyes took on a faraway look as he remembered horrors past.

Elrond, not wishing to watch Legolas relive those experiences, did the only 
thing he could think of to bring him back to the present.  He kissed him.

Suddenly there was no more need for words as their lips met in a hungry kiss.  
Elrond wrapped his arms around Legolas, pulling him close and delighting in 
feeling the slim body against him…and yet there was something wrong.  
Breathlessly he pulled away a little.

“I do believe you’ve put on weight!” he said teasingly.  What he did not 
expect was the reaction he received from Legolas, who went white and pulled 
away from his lover.  Elrond looked at him in dismay at what he thought was 
from the inappropriateness of his words.  “Do not fret,” he said.  “It was 
merely an observation.  You have always been too thin anyway.”

“No, I am not offended,” Legolas said quickly.  “There is something I need to 
tell you.  It is true I have put on weight, but it is not what you think.  You see, 
the night we spent together before I left with the Fellowship was not without 
consequences.”  Elrond stared at him as what Legolas was saying, sunk in.

“You mean…you’re with child again?  *My* child?” asked Elrond in 
disbelief.  Legolas slowly inclined his head.

“In about six months we will have a daughter,” he said softly, gazing deeply 
into the other's eyes, awaiting his reaction and hoping it would be a positive 
one.

Slowly, Elrond brought a tentative hand up.  Seeing his intention, Legolas 
quickly took his hand and guided it to his abdomen.  Now, Elrond could 
clearly feel the rounded swelling and knew it was true.

“When did you find out?” he asked numbly.

“Galadriel told me when we came to Lothlorien.  She assures me it is a girl.”  
Legolas waited apprehensively for Elrond to realise that he had carried on 
with the quest even after he had found out his condition.  He did not have to 
wait long…

Elrond said nothing for a moment, but then darkness clouded his face as the 
realisation hit him.  His hand dropped limply to his side.

“You knew before Helms Deep,” he said accusingly.  “Yet you still carried on 
and risked the life of our child.”

“It was not a decision I made lightly,” Legolas replied tightly.  “But my first 
duty was to Frodo and the Fellowship.”

Elrond suddenly felt very tired.  “I thought you had changed, but once again 
everything was more important than us.” he said sorrowfully.  “You could 
have died and once again would have deprived me of seeing another child 
grow up…and in the cruellest way possible.”

“But it never happened,” Legolas replied stubbornly.  “We both survived.  
You should be happy, not agonising over what might have been!  Don't you 
see?  We have been given a second chance.  We can bring up this child 
together.”

Elrond looked at the pleading face on his lover.

“Then you will sail to Valinor with me?” he asked.

Legolas looked puzzled.  “I-I do not understand,” he said finally.

Elrond sighed and shook his head.  “Many years ago I foresaw that with the 
end of the one ring would also come the end of my own time in Middle-Earth.  
That time has now arrived and the call of the sea is almost overwhelming.”  
He looked with pity at the stunned face of his lover.

“I too have heard the call of the sea,” Legolas confessed.  “But I fought 
against it, as I did not wish to leave yet.  There is still so much in Middle-
Earth that I wish to see.  Before this quest I had led a fairly insular life and it 
is only now I realise how much I have missed out on.”

“I take it that is a no then,” the noble lord replied sadly, yet with little 
surprise.  He knew his own sons felt the same way and had expected little else 
from Legolas, who was even younger than them.

“When will you go?” asked Legolas apprehensively, straining to keep the 
overwhelming sadness from showing in his face.

“There is much to tie up before I can leave with a free conscience,” he 
admitted.  “It will be a year or two yet.”

“Then at least we have that,” Legolas replied quietly.  “That is if you would 
wish to spend the time you have left in Middle-Earth, with me.”

“You would accept that?” Elrond asked in surprise and disbelief.  “You 
would accept that I must leave soon and still stay with me until then?”

“I would rather spend a year or two with you than an eternity without you,” 
the golden haired elf said passionately.  “Don’t forget, I will sail for Valinor 
one day – probably after Aragorn passes - and perhaps then we could be 
finally be together forever.”

“I would like that,” Elrond said almost brokenly.  All his fears and anger left 
him.  They were elves and had until the end of the world to be together.  What 
was another hundred years of separation compared to that?  However, until 
they were separated, he vowed to make the best of the time they had together.  
Suddenly his thoughts were interrupted by a sudden wince on his love’s face.  
“What's the matter?” he asked urgently.

“It’s nothing,” replied Legolas with a small smile on his face and rubbing a 
hand across his stomach.  “It is just our daughter reminding me she is still 
there.”

Elrond looked at him, thunderstruck.  “May I feel?” he asked softly.  Legolas 
smiled and once again pressed the lord’s hand to his stomach.  He felt a 
gentle tapping under his palm.

“Did you feel that?” asked Legolas anxiously.

“Yes, I felt it,” Elrond replied softly.  “I felt our daughter.”  Despite having 
been there throughout Celebrian's two pregnancies, this felt completely 
different.  He didn't know if it was because she was conceived in love rather 
than duty, or whether it was because he loved Legolas so much.  Not that it 
really mattered.

Legolas gently wiped away a tear that had formed at the corner of his lover's 
eye.  “Do not cry, melamin,” he whispered.  

Elrond smiled and pulled Legolas into a warm embrace.  “I cannot help it,” he 
admitted softly.  “I am delighted that we have a second chance at happiness 
and yet sad that we must endure another long separation.”

“Do not dwell on that now,” chided Legolas.  “We have at least a year before 
you must go.  Let us enjoy the present whilst we can.”

“I will try,” Elrond promised. 

For a long time they stood there without words.  Just enjoying the feeling of 
being together with no barrier of lies or distrust between them.  Eventually - 
and reluctantly - Elrond pulled away from his lover as a thought crossed his 
mind.  “Have you seen any healers recently about your condition?” he asked.  
As he expected Legolas shook his head.  

“Until you and your party arrived I was the only elf here.  I did not think it 
would be wise to see a human healer as they are enough in awe of us already 
without being presented with the news that a male elf could carry a baby.”

“Then may I examine you?”

“Of course,” Legolas replied.  After all Elrond was a skilled and powerful 
healer, and though he had never seen a male pregnancy before, it did not vary 
that much from females.  Elrond took his hand and led him over to the bed, 
gesturing for Legolas to lie down.  Trying to remain as clinical as possible, he 
undid the fastenings until the firm swell of his lover's stomach was revealed.  
Gently he probed and prodded and asked questions until he was satisfied that 
everything was fine.  He shook his head in self-disgust as his attention was 
caught by the scar that had been left by the birth of their son.

“I'm supposed to be a great healer and yet I didn't realise what this was!” he 
commented.

“You had no reason to suspect,” Legolas replied.  He closed his eyes in pain 
brought by fleeting memories.  “I wish you could have been there.  I wish you 
could have seen Jarab grow up.”

“So do I,” Elrond replied.  “But you've done a fine job with him.  He's grown 
up into a fine elf…one I'm proud to call my son.”

“Thank you,” Legolas said sincerely, his eyes bright.  “That means more to 
me than you could imagine.”

As Elrond stepped back from his examination, there was an awkward silence.  
No longer patient and healer, they were now confronted with the situation that 
Legolas was lying half-naked on Elrond's bed and neither sure what the other 
one wanted.  Finally Legolas broke the silence.

“Is it safe to make love?” he asked, staring straight into his lover's eyes and 
refusing to be embarrassed.

“It should be,” responded Elrond, his pulse starting to race at the invitation in 
those blue eyes.  

Legolas held out a hand.  “Then come and be with me,” he said softly.  “It's 
been too long since I have felt your touch.”

Without taking his eyes off the elf on his bed, he slowly removed his clothed 
and lay down next to his lover, helping him to remove the rest of his.

Their lovemaking was slow and passionate.  Legolas lay spooned up against 
his lover's chest, his lover moving gently deep within him, one hand wrapped 
possessively around his stomach and the other stroking his lover's arousal in 
time with his thrusts.  They climaxed together, and as Elrond slipped out of 
his lover's body, they both fell quickly into a light sleep.  Finally there were 
no more lies and deceptions between them, only their love.



Chapter Nine - Conflicts and Resolutions

Elrond was woken up from a peaceful sleep, his beloved in his arms, by an 
urgent knocking at the door.  He looked down at Legolas lying on his chest 
and was relieved to see the younger elf had not woken up.  Judging by the 
dark circles he had noticed under his eyes, he did not think Legolas had been 
sleeping well recently.   Quickly, yet gently, he disentangled himself and 
moved off the bed.  Seeing a robe hung up behind the door, he put it on, tying 
it tightly around himself and opened the door, putting his body in the way so 
no one would see Legolas.  He felt both guilty and embarrassed when he saw 
it was Jarab.  Jarab, however, didn't look upset at all.  In fact Elrond thought 
he could detect a rather smug smile on his face.

“Elrond,” he said - their relationship was not yet so close that he could call 
him anything else.  “Is my father here with you?”  Jarab pointedly looked up 
and down at Elrond's state of attire.

“He is,” replied Elrond.  It was not quite the way he had wished to announce 
his newly found relationship to their son, but he was not going to hide it.  

Jarab's smile turned into a broad grin.  “I knew you would work it out!” he 
said delightedly.  “I'm so happy for you.”

“Thank you,” Elrond said.  He then raised an eyebrow.  “Was there a reason 
you were looking for him?”

Jarab's suddenly frowned.  “I'm afraid so.  An unexpected visitor has just 
been sighted coming into Minas Tirith.”

Elrond looked at him in confusion.  “Who is it?” he asked.

“My grandfather,” Jarab replied rather quietly.  “King Thranduil.”

Elrond stood there in shock for a moment until he was roused by his beloved's 
voice coming from behind him.  He turned around to find his lover wrapped 
in a sheet and walking towards him.

“My father is here?”  There was a slight tremble in Legolas' voice and he was 
almost as white as the sheet covering him.  Elrond gestured for their son to 
come in and close the door whilst pulling Legolas into a comforting embrace.  
“Why would he come here?”

Elrond and Jarab exchanged dismayed glances.  This was something that 
Elrond had not yet had time to speak of with his young lover.

“I'm afraid it's mainly my fault,” said Jarab.  “Once I found out Elrond was 
also my father, I travelled to Rivendell.  I stayed there despite repeated 
messages from grandfather to come home.  Then…” he bowed his head, “just 
before we set out for Minas Tirith I sent him a message saying that I had no 
intention of returning to Mirkwood.  That I did not wish to be the heir to the 
throne.”

He looked up to see his father staring at him in disbelief.  

“You cannot do that!” exclaimed Legolas.  “You are my heir.”

“You did it,” Jarab returned belligerently.

“I had plenty of reasons!”  Legolas replied angrily. He turned his accusing 
gaze to his lover.  “And you knew about this?” he demanded.

“We spoke about it yes,” Elrond replied levelly.  “Jarab now knows what 
Thranduil is capable of and so decided the best way to keep away from his 
manipulations was to never go back.”

Legolas sank down on the edge of the bed.  “And now he is here,” he said 
dumbly.  His blue eyes found his lover's concerned grey orbs.  “Probably 
hoping to persuade both of us to return to Mirkwood.”

“I am so sorry,” Jarab said in a fit of recrimination.  “I should have just gone 
back when he asked.  Now I've gone and brought more trouble to you.”

“No, you were right,” Legolas said, reaching out and taking his son's hand.  “I 
shouldn't have left you to cope with your grandfather.  I should have taken 
you with me in the first place.  I cope you can forgive me for that.”

Jarab looked at his father in surprise.  “There's nothing to forgive,” he said 
generously.  “I can understand why you were so desperate to get away.”

Legolas looked fondly at his son.  “I don't need to wonder where you get your 
forgiving nature from,” he said softly, turning his loving gaze to Elrond.  
Then he turned serious.  “My father will be here soon,” he stated grimly.  “I 
think we might as well get everything out in the open at once.”  He turned to 
Jarab, who was looking startled and puzzled.  “Jarab, can you take your 
grandfather to the main reception room and get Elladan, Elrohir, Arwen and 
Aragorn there as well?  We will be along as soon as we are can.”

Jarab nodded and quickly left the room, though not trying to hide his 
confusion at the strange order.  He had a feeling there were going to be some 
spectacular fireworks in the near future…

*********

Jarab looked around despairingly at the three irate faces belonging to his half-
brothers and his grandfather and the calm, yet apprehensive faces of Arwen 
and Aragorn.  Though from the look on the King's face, he guessed that he 
knew more about what was going on than he did himself.  Despite having just 
met Aragorn, he had heard much about him from Arwen and, in the brief time 
they had spent together, he had also been impressed by the quiet authority he 
exuded.  

Jarab shifted uncomfortably, wishing his fathers would hurry up and get 
there, so his grandfather would have someone else to glare at.  As soon as he 
had met Thranduil at the gate, he had been imperiously demanding that he 
return to Mirkwood whilst also demanding to be taken immediately to 
Legolas.  Instead, Jarab had led him to a room that contained three of the 
Peredhils that he loathed.

Jarab was almost relieved when the door opened and Elrond and Legolas 
walked in, even though he felt sure things were going to get loud, anything 
was better than this unnerving silence.

Legolas tightened the hold he had on his lover’s hand.  He may have decided 
on this course of action, but it did not mean he was looking forward to it.  His 
gaze swept the room.

“Thank you for all agreeing to be here,” he said, his face calm and not 
betraying in the least his quaking nerves.

“Agree!” exclaimed Thranduil.  “I did not have a choice!  I was brought in 
here and not allowed to leave.”

“Aye,” said Elrohir sullenly, giving his half-brother a disgusted glance.  
“Jarab refused to let us go until we had listened to what you had to say.”

“Well it’s nice to find there is actually someone you will listen to,” Elrond 
said dryly, looking reprovingly at the younger twin.  “But I would appreciate 
it if you would also listen to Legolas.”

Elrohir’s eyes narrowed as he spotted the entwined hands of his father and 
Legolas.  “You’ve taken him back, haven’t you?” he said accusingly.  “In 
spite of hiding your own son from you – our brother – and causing you years 
of heartache and misery.  You’ve *still* taken him back.”

“I have,” replied Elrond quietly, his head held high, refusing to be ashamed.

“This is nonsense,” Thranduil said angrily.  “Legolas has a wife and he will 
come back to Mirkwood with me…and so will Jarab.”

“I’m not going back!” Jarab interjected, only to be quieted by a stern look 
from Legolas.

“I will handle this,” he said.  He returned his gaze to Thranduil.  “Neither I 
nor my son will return to your cold and heartless realm.  As for my wife, you 
know that my marriage is over and Alemi must accept that.”

“She already has,” Jarab said.  “It’s why she told me about my real 
parentage.”  He bowed his head.  “She told me she plans to go West as soon 
as the threat to Middle-Earth was ended.  Her grief for my brother is all 
encompassing and I think she will only find peace in Valinor.”

Legolas nodded sadly.  “I miss him too, but he was the only son of her flesh 
and now there is nothing left for her here.”

“She is your wife,” Thranduil said almost desperately, feeling his son slipping 
away from him.  “You could give her another child.”

Legolas looked sorrowfully at his father.  “I love Elrond and he loves me.  I 
won’t allow you to split us up again.”

“And neither will I,” Elrond added.

Until this moment Aragorn had stood by listening, not wishing to interfere, 
but now he felt it was time they told their biggest secret.

“I believe there is something that you need to tell everyone,” he said 
smoothly, eliciting a surprised glance form his wife to be and her brothers.

“Yes, yes there is,” Legolas said slowly.  “Before I left Rivendell with the rest 
of the Fellowship I conceived another child.”  He looked around at the 
stunned faces, before his blue eyes came to rest on Jarab.  “In six months time 
you will have a sister.”

“And Elrohir, Elladan and Arwen will have a half-sister,” Aragorn stated.

The siblings reactions were widely divergent.  Whilst Arwen and Jarab could 
not contain their pleasure and were quickly congratulating the couple, Elrohir 
and Elladan looked at their father in horror.

“You slept with him back then before you even knew the truth?” Elladan 
asked incredulously.  “Why?”

“Because I still loved him then, as I love him now,” Elrond replied, staring 
defiantly at his twin sons  He could not prevent himself from placing a 
protective hand over his beloved’s stomach.  “And this is a miracle of which I 
am extremely proud.”  Elrohir and Elladan were the first to drop their eyes 
and even looked a little ashamed.  There was no need to tell them that Elrond 
was about to lose one daughter to a mortal life and so the miracle of a second 
meant an indescribable amount to him.  The twins exchanged a single, 
dismayed glance.  

They all jumped at the sound of Thranduil's outraged tones.

“I will not stay and listen to this travesty,” thundered Thranduil.  “Legolas, 
you are no longer my son.  You are dead to me.  Never show your face in 
Mirkwood again.”  He turned to Jarab.  “This is your last chance.  Return 
with me now and I will forgive you your disobedience.  When the time 
comes, you will rule our kingdom in my stead.”  He looked at the young elf 
expectantly.

Jarab shook his head slowly.  “I finally have a real family and that is worth 
far more to me than *anything* you can offer.”

Thranduil looked at his grandson in disbelief.  Somehow he had always 
expected that Jarab being so young and relatively inexperienced would 
eventually submit.  Now, looking at that icy determination in his eyes, he 
finally realised that this was truly a child of Elrond.

“Fine,” he said coldly.  “I don’t know why I would want a Peredhil to run my 
kingdom anyway.  The same goes for you as your father, never enter 
Mirkwood again or I will not be merciful.”  With that parting shot he turned 
around and strode out of the room, not looking back.

As the door banged shut, Elrond felt his lover beginning to collapse against 
him.  Quickly he helped him to a seat.  “Are you okay?” he asked urgently, 
crouching down next to him and stroking a hand through his blond hair.

“I’ll be fine,” Legolas assured him weakly.  “It’s just been a rather exhausting 
day.  I just need some rest.”  He flushed as he realised that everyone had 
gathered around him, all displaying identical concerned looks - even the 
twins.  Before he could fathom it out, Jarab suggested that he would probably 
be better off lying down and offered to help him to his room.  Elrond 
immediately demurred that he would look after Legolas, but then Elrohir put 
a hesitant hand on his father's arm and asked if he and Elladan could have a 
word with him in private.  

Elrond looked to his lover and received a faint nod of approbation.  Then he 
watched anxiously as Jarab and Aragorn aided Legolas out of the room, with 
Arwen trailing behind.

Reluctantly, Elrond turned to face his eldest children.  “If you have more 
words of dissension or disrespect towards Legolas to utter, I advise you to 
save your breath,” he said sternly.  “We have chosen our path and no one will 
disrupt it now.”

“That's not what I wanted to say,” Elrohir replied quickly, his eyes darting to 
his brother.  “I realise now how much Legolas means to you…and the 
daughter he carries.  I also realise how much he must love you.  It must have 
been hard for him to stand up against his father like that and to hear Thranduil 
banish him from his homeland.  What I want to say is that I support you and 
Legolas.”

Elrond was extremely touched by the words from his son.  He looked to 
Elladan.  “And what are our feelings on this matter?” he asked.

Elladan smiled faintly.  “As ever, my brother and I are in agreement. He just 
expresses himself more eloquently.  All I can add that if Legolas makes you 
truly happy, then it would be foolish of me to disagree with your choice.”

“Thank you,” Elrond said, his mood lightened.  “And do not forget that not 
only will I have a new daughter, but you will have a new sister who will need 
her brothers!”  He could not help but chuckle as he saw by their expressions 
of surprise and delight, that they had not thought that far.

“That's if Legolas will let us near her after the way we have treated him,” 
Elladan said, a faint frown shadowing his pleasure.

“I'm sure he will be happy to hear that you are ready to accept him as part of 
the family,” Elrond assured his sons.  “Though I do not think it will hurt to 
repeat to him what you have said to me.”

“We will,” promised Elrohir.  A sly smile crossed his face.  “Perhaps we will 
leave it until tomorrow.  I'd hate to get in the way of your…reunion.  Or was 
that why he was so exhausted just now?”

Elrond was mortified to discover his son could still make him blush.  “That is 
none of your business,” he said, though he could not hide a smile at the 
teasing he had never expected from Elrohir concerning him and Legolas.  It 
was what finally convinced him that they would accept their love.  “Now if 
you will excuse me, I want to make sure that Legolas is well.”  He hurried 
from the room, determinedly ignoring the wry smiles his son's were giving 
him.  Finally, all was well with the world…well except for Thranduil and his 
temper tantrums.  Frankly, he believed Legolas was better off without his 
father.  He just hoped Legolas felt the same way.

Chapter Ten - Beginning of the End

Legolas watched with joy as his young daughter, Nimowen, took her first few 
faltering steps across the grass.  She toddled from Elrond to Elladan and the 
latter gave a yell of triumph as he swept the golden-haired, giggling elfling in 
his arms.

“Who's the clever girl?!” Elladan demanded in a laughing tone, swinging her 
around.  “Elrohir and Jarab are going to be so jealous that they missed this.”

They were picnicking by the river, as it was such a hot, sunny day.  Just the 
four of them.  Elrohir and Jarab had ridden out earlier in the day to check out 
some trouble on the borders.

Elrond stood up and watched indulgently as his eldest child played with his 
youngest.  He started slightly as he felt familiar arms slip around his waist, 
then he leaned back, content.

It had been an idyllic couple of years.  The bittersweetness of joining Arwen 
with the man she love had been greatly tempered by the arrival of his and 
Legolas' daughter.  Of course, nothing could replace Arwen in his affections, 
but she had made her choice and was as pleased as he was that there was 
another to ease his pain a little.

Elrond had been a little worried about the impending birth of their daughter.  
He had delivered countless female elves' babies - including his three with 
Celebrian - and had occasionally had to cut them out when the baby was too 
large or awkwardly placed.  This, however, was slightly different…and 
involved the one he loved.  He had been surprised, yet very relieved, when 
the healer who had attended Legolas during his first pregnancy, arrived in 
Imladris from Mirkwood.

It appeared that Thranduil had relented a little from his initial stance, and has 
sent the healer to make sure Legolas was properly cared for.  Most had 
assumed this was an overture to improving relations, but Jarab was heard to 
mutter darkly more than once that it was more likely he didn't want to risk 
losing a potential heir who might *still* be influenced by him.  Legolas had 
merely sent a formal message thanking his father; preferring to just accept it 
and not read too much into it.

For Elrond, this lifted a great weight from his shoulders, and when it came to 
the birth, he was able to act like a father instead of a healer.

One thing that had been enlightening was when Legolas asked the healer why 
he had told him he could not bear any more children.  The healer had shuffled 
around a bit and looked embarrassed, but had eventually admitted he had 
been ordered to do so by King Thranduil.

“Why ever would he lie about something like that?” Legolas had wondered 
aloud once he and Elrond were alone.

“I have no idea,” Elrond had replied.  “Who knows what is going on in your 
father's mind?”

“It's slightly ironic that he actually ended up doing us a favour,” Legolas had 
smiled.  “After all, if I'd known I could still get pregnant, I would never have 
risked making love with you just before I left on the quest…”

“And our daughter would not be growing inside of you right now,” Elrond 
had finished softly, placing a protective hand on his lover's large stomach.  “It 
seems we do have something to thank Thranduil for after all.  No matter how 
unintentional it was.”

“He has done us far more harm than good,” Legolas had replied with a frown.  
“I'm not sure I can ever forgive the things he has said and done not just to us 
but to Alemi and Jarab.”

“Do you think you will invite him here when our daughter is born?” Elrond 
had asked.  It was a subject they had avoided up until this point.

Legolas had looked pensive for a moment before nodding his head 
reluctantly.  “I will not stoop to his level and keep his grandchild from him if 
he wishes to see her.  I doubt he will accept.”

So, after the birth, the invitation had been sent and, surprisingly, accepted.  
Thranduil had been far more subdued than his son had ever seen him.  It 
seemed he had had time for a fair amount of reflection and realised what he 
had lost through his stubbornness and machinations.

He had smiled when he had seen the golden blonde hair so like his own of the 
now three month old child.  His lips had only pursed slightly when Nimowen 
had opened her eyes to reveal the silvery grey orbs that revealed her other 
parent, and he had refrained from any comments.

After that, communication between Imladris and Mirkwood had improved, 
though Jarab still refused to forgive his grandfather for stealing from him all 
those years he could have spent with his true family.

The little girl had brought a new lease of life to the whole household at 
Imladris at a time when many were contemplating leaving to cross the sea.  
Elladan, especially, doted on his half-sister and spent as much time with her 
as possible.

“Here, take your daughter!  Some of us have work to do!”

Elrond was shaken from his musings when Elladan thrust Nimowen into his 
arms with that playful comment.  Over the past year, all three of his sons had 
gradually taken over the running of Imladris.  This had left Elrond more time 
to spend with his lover and their new daughter, which he greatly appreciated.  
However, it did have a more depressing undertone.  It meant that he no longer 
needed to be there.  

Galadriel was impatient to leave Middle-Earth and return to her true home, 
but would not leave without Elrond and Gandalf.  Many years previously, the 
wearers of the three rings of power had agreed to leave together.  A promise 
not to be broken.

Any day now, Elrond expected Gandalf to arrive at Rivendell and inform him 
it was time to leave.

He knew Legolas watched him anxiously, especially when he caught him 
staring towards the west almost in a trance.  Elrond felt he was being torn in 
two, with his desire to be with his family, and his conflicting need to cross the 
sea.

***********

It was but a few days after the picnic that Gandalf appeared.

He had been greeted with faked smiles and false greetings.  Gandalf wasn't 
fooled.  He knew what he was doing.  He was aware his arrival was the 
beginning of the end and so he had left it as long as possible.  But now it was 
time to go.

That night, Legolas entered the chamber he shared with Elrond after checking 
on Nimowen.  He had barely spoken during dinner and Elrond could tell from 
the way he was twisting his hands together and the look on his face, that he 
had something he wanted to say.  Elrond sat down on the bed and gestured for 
Legolas to join him.  Legolas sat down, his body turned to face his lover, his 
eyes regarding him seriously.

“What is it, my love?” Elrond probed gently.

“You will leave soon.”  It was a statement, not a question.

“Yes,” Elrond acknowledged quietly.

“And I have accepted that.  It's how it must be.”  He hesitated.

“Yet there is something else?  I can see it in your eyes.”

Legolas looked at him gravely and then smiled slightly.  “I can hide little 
from you these days…I wish it had always been so.  Yet that is old ground 
which I do not wish to go over again.  But yes, there is something I wish you 
to do for me.”

“Anything if it is within my power,” Elrond promised.

“I-I want you to take Nimowen with you,” Legolas said suddenly, looking at 
his lover anxiously

Elrond was stricken.  “I cannot do that to you,” he gasped.  “I know how 
much you love her.”

“And I know you love her just as much,” Legolas replied.  He lowered his 
eyes, looking ashamed.  “This is not all for your benefit.  I am being selfish as 
well.  I do not wish to give her the chance to choose a mortal life which she 
would have if she remained here.  I know how much you suffer at the thought 
of losing Arwen and I cannot bear the thought of that…or the thought of you 
having to go through that again.”

“That is not selfish,” Elrond replied in surprise.  “It is unnatural for one's 
children to die before you in human terms and it is even harder to bear for so-
called immortals like us.  You already know the pain of losing a son - at least 
Arwen still lives - so I understand your concern.  But I do not know if it is fair 
to take that choice away from her.”

“I do not care,” Legolas said strongly.  “I will not lose her.”

“Yet she will not be in your life until you sail the sea,” Elrond reminded him 
gently.  “You will miss her formative years.”

Legolas sighed and rubbed a hand across tired eyes.  “It will be worth it to 
know she is safe and that she is with you,” he replied.  “We will have the rest 
of our lives to spend together when I join you.”

“And this is what you truly want?” Elrond asked seriously.

“Yes, it is.”

“Then I will take Nimowen with me.”  The pronouncement was greeted with 
silence.  It was what Legolas wanted, but it was still difficult for him.

Much later, they lay together in the dark, when Elrond broke the silence.

“Will you stay here?  In Imladris?”

“No,” replied Legolas almost immediately.  “It would be torture to live here 
without you.  I have spoken with Aragorn about this matter and he suggested 
setting up a new community of elves in Ithilien.  I'm sure there are many 
elves within my father's realm who would be pleased to resettle away from 
his firm grasp.”

“It sounds like a good idea,” Elrond agreed.

“And Gimli has settled at the Glittering Caves, so I will also be close to him,” 
Legolas continued, his voice wavering slightly.

“That will be an advantage.”

“Thus I will be close to many of my friends and be able to see more of 
Middle-Earth…which I have always wanted.”  His voice was even more 
wavery.

“It all sounds like an excellent plan.”

“Then tell me something,” Legolas half-sobbed.  “Why do I feel as if my 
heart is breaking?”

Elrond gathered the shuddering form in a tight embrace, feeling his own tears 
threatening.  He tried to think of some words of comfort and yet nothing 
would come to mind.  “I love you,” he finally ended up saying, knowing it 
was totally inadequate.

“And I love you,” his lover whispered between sobs.

Gradually Legolas quietened, the shuddering dying down until the even 
breathing told Elrond he was asleep.  Only then did he let his own tears fall.  
He wished everything could be different but could see no way of changing it.

********

The next day they informed Elrohir, Elladan and Jarab of their decisions.

“No!” exclaimed Elladan, sending an distressed look towards Nimowen who 
beamed back at him, not understanding the events that were unfolding.  “You 
can't seriously mean to take her away from us…from Legolas.”

“It was my choice,” Legolas said unhappily, almost flinching as three pairs of 
accusing grey eyes stared at him.  “She will be better off with your father in 
Valinor.”

“Better off than she would be here, with you and her three brothers?” Elrohir 
demanded disbelievingly.

“I won't be here,” Legolas replied.  “I plan on moving to Ithilien as soon as I 
can arrange it.”

“And what about me?” Jarab asked, his tone low, yet almost mocking.  “Have 
you made plans for *me* as well?”

“Jarab, you are well past your majority.” Legolas said levelly.  “Of course I 
would be pleased if you wished to come with me, but it is your decision.”

“Then I choose to stay here…with my brothers.”  Jarab replied immediately.

It broke Legolas' heart to hear those words, but it had been what he was 
expecting.  The three brothers had formed a strong bond despite Jarab being 
so much younger.  “I thought you would,” was all Legolas said, though his 
face gave away a little of the sadness this brought him.



Three days later found them gathered in a group at the gate for the farewells 
that meant they would not be together again for many years.  Elladan was 
hugging Nimowen so tightly that she was protesting.  Elrond and Legolas 
faced each other, gripping each other's hands and just staring.  Hardly 
believing that this moment had finally arrived.

“It's not so long,” said Legolas in a strained voice, not quite sure whom he 
was trying to convince.  “We survived two hundred years apart, a hundred 
years or so should pass quickly.”

“It cannot pass quickly enough,” Elrond replied fervently, his grey eyes 
shining with held back tears.  Legolas, himself, blinked back the tears 
furiously that were threatening to blur his last memory of his lover.

All too soon Gandalf had mounted his horse and was seen to be waiting 
patiently for Elrond to finish his good-byes.  They were to meet up with 
Galadriel on the way.

Reluctantly Elrond removed himself from Legolas' embrace and gave each of 
his son's a final hug, as Legolas held his daughter for the last time.  Then, he 
swung himself up onto his horse and took Nimowen from his lover's arms, 
placing her in front of him.  The little elfling seemed to have no idea of the 
gravity of the situation as she laughed in delight at the novelty of being on 
horseback.  Elrond leant down one last time and stroked the soft cheek of his 
beloved.  “I will be waiting,” he said softly.

“Just do not forget me,” Legolas half-choked out.

“Never,” Elrond vowed.  “I will think of you every day until we are reunited.”

“And I you,” Legolas returned.  Legolas gave one last longing look at his 
lover and daughter before stepping back so they could depart.

As Elrond rode out of the gate with Gandalf and the rest of their retinue, he 
did not look back for fear his resolve would fail at the last moment.  Thereby 
sparing himself the sight of seeing Legolas fall to his knees as his emotions 
finally overtook him.

TBC.

One more chapter to go!



Chapter Eleven - Reunion

Legolas stood at the prow of the great grey ship he had built, his fair hair 
fluttering in the sea-breeze.  His sharp blue eyes stared out, ever searching for 
that elusive first sight of land and the first sight of his lover.

More than 120 years had passed since he had bade his beloved and their 
daughter farewell.  At some times it had seemed to be interminable, but now 
the time of reunion was nearly at hand, it appeared to have slipped by in an 
instant