~ Legolas and Thranduil have another much needed talk. Later everyone goes "oooh" at a pretty city and Legolas learns a shocking truth about the half-elven. ~

52. To the White City

"Ain't she a beauty? Look at 'em pillars." Gimli beamed proudly at the new Bridge of Osgiliath.

"Aye. Well done, Master Dwarf! And your workers, of course." Legolas grinned at his friend's enthusiasm. It was so good to be together again. He had missed the dwarf immensely.

They dismounted and crossed the beautiful stone structure on foot, guided by Gimli.

"Over here is yer plaque, Legolas. We all got one."

The plaque was a rectangular bronze sign on one of the railing posts. It had Legolas' name engraved under the header "Fellowship Hero" and a crude drawing of a bow.

It actually felt rather good to have a plaque. Hero. That had a nice ring to it.

"Mine's bigger than yers," said Gimli smugly. His was on the next post, similar except for an ax-drawing instead. And yes, his actually looked slightly larger.

"You did not...!" Legolas tried to hold back his laughter, not sure if he was annoyed or amused. Then he straightened his back, letting himself loom over the dwarf to emphasize their height difference. "But I guess it is only fair that your sign should be big when you are so small. Even when walking on stilts."

"Hrmpf. Must be cold and windy for yer head up there," the dwarf muttered, stomping off on his high-soled boots.

"This is beautiful." Thranduil stroked the decorative edgings of the white top rail.

Legolas turned in surprise. His adar had not spoken one word to him since they parted in the corridor yesterday. "It is," he agreed, trying to think of something more to say. Something friendly to heal the new rift between them.

As usual, he failed. Instead he lingered, hoping his adar would break the silence. They were alone now with their friends already some way ahead.

"Legolas."

"Aye?"

Their gazes met and his breath hitched. Thranduil's face was open, his guard completely down in a way he had never seen, eyes  brimming with pain and sadness.

It nearly broke Legolas' heart to see him like that. "What is wrong?" He tentatively reached out to touch his shoulder.

"Am I really driving you away?"

His hand dropped again, a chill traveling down his spine. Those had been Wynne's words. Had Thranduil taken them that much to heart to make him look this hurt?

He tried to come up with a good answer, something to smooth things over, but his mind was blank. He settled for the truth. "Not... not as such. But you tend to shut me out. You never tell me what you think. Or feel..."

Thranduil nodded, averting his eyes. "I wanted to be a better adar than my own but I am not very good at it." He regarded the calm surface of the Anduin, absent-mindedly rubbing Legolas' plaque with a finger.

"You never talk about Oropher."

"Nay."

"So... he was not a nice person?"

"I uh... I believe he was held in high esteem by many." He shuddered. Then he met Legolas' gaze again. "You do know that I love you?" He didn't have to say it; for once it was written clearly in his features.

"I always knew you loved me," he replied earnestly.

"Good. Good. That is something, at least." He smiled briefly, clearly relieved. "And I never intended to shut you out. That is just... who I am – who I became. And I cannot..." He paused, apparently to think of how to continue.

It was unsettling to witness his adar search for words, he always seemed to know what to say and in an eloquent way too.

"Ye coming, or?" Gimli bellowed from the other side of the river.

"Aye, aye, we are coming," Legolas called back, turning to his adar. "We should talk more later."

There was so much he wanted to ask. About his grand adar, about his naneth, all the things his adar had never told him.

"We should." His face lit up. "And Legolas... Forgive me." He pulled him into a hug, a real one, not one of those half-hugs they normally shared.

"I forgive you."

oOo

Legolas' knees were weak when he remounted Stelpa. His adar had apologized! When had that ever happened before? And they would talk more. Perhaps Ada would finally give his blessings to his and Wynne's relationship.

Much as he loved her, he didn't want to lose his adar.

"Mee-ah!" The shrill cry made them turn their heads. A large bird had landed on the railing, almost where they stood before. It looked right at them, its white head tilted like it was listening to something.

It called a second time, the sound eerily resembling a word: "Mine!" Then it raised a pair of gray wings and soared to the sky.

Legolas felt a renewed longing to follow the white bird to the sea. Then he would take a boat west... sail into the sunset and continue until he reached Aman, the Undying Lands.

Yet, the urge to sail was not as strong as it had been. He had Wynne now, and after talking to her about all the horrible things he saw and did during the war, he felt less anxious to leave Middle-earth. He probably would do it, eventually, but there was no hurry.

A bit surprised he realized sharing his burden had helped, just like she said. Amazing. How had she become so wise?

He felt Thranduil's gaze on him but avoided meeting it. Had he seen how the seagull affected Legolas?

"Coming, son?"

Reluctantly he tore his eyes from the bird and followed his adar back to the horses.

oOo

After the bridge they passed through the open gates of the perimeter wall surrounding the Pelennor Fields.

Legolas moved his horse next to Wynne's. She gave him a questioning look, probably wondering what had passed between him and his adar, but he didn't want the others to overhear. He would find an opportunity to tell her later.

There were farms, orchards and growing crops on both sides of the road. It was hard to picture this as it had been ten years ago when the fields were swarming with warriors. He wondered how often the farmers plowed up pieces of weaponry or arrowheads. Or bones...

Again he was plagued by memories of that battle, a bloody and horrible fight. Neither the orcs, nor the enemy men – such as the Haradrim – had been willing to capitulate, so the armies of the west had been forced to kill every last one. Near the end of the battle it had felt like an execution.

Wynne must have noticed his bleak face for she reached out to take his hand, pressing it. Again it struck him how good it felt to know that someone else knew and understood what he went through.

He gratefully squeezed her hand back.

Soon they beheld the city ahead and many in the company reacted the way people always did at the first sight of it: with awe.

"Ooh!"

"Ahh!"

"Sweet Elbereth!"

"It is beautiful!"

Even Thranduil, never one to give excess praise, seemed impressed. "Not too bad," he admitted with grudging respect.

Despite having seen it before, Legolas found the sight breathtaking. The city's seven levels climbed the mountainside, one circle smaller than the other in a cone-like stair. The walls joined the mountain on each side so seamlessly the city appeared to have grown out of it, rather than being constructed. On the uppermost wall, the tower of Ecthelion rose to the sky, a glimmering spike of pearl and silver.

Éowyn decided this was a good spot for a break and soon her servants had spread a very elegant luncheon in the lush grass beside the road. Legolas sat close to Wynne, enjoying her relaxed and happy mood now that they were out of the city. She wore her tunic and hose again, and much as Legolas had enjoyed her exposed bosom in those dresses he found this was the Wynne he preferred; unpolished and natural. Like a tree growing wild in the forest rather than in a garden.

Thranduil came to sit by them, features again fully composed, with a silver goblet in his hand. "I miss my wine cellar," he sighed, breathing in the aroma of the dark red liquid before taking a small sip. He winced slightly when he swallowed it.

"So do I," agreed Galion. His goblet was almost empty, however, so apparently he figured the inferior Gondorian variety was better than nothing.

"Drunkard," huffed Thranduil.

Wynne had stiffened visibly when he came but now he soothingly placed his hand over hers. "I thought about what you said. And... you were right."

Her eyebrows flew up and she seemed at a loss for words. Understandably.

Legolas wondered how much it had cost his adar to admit something like that. A few weeks ago he would probably not even have considered it, but this journey had changed him. For so many millennia, he had locked himself inside his palace, almost like he was hiding. Now, after finally traveling through Arda again he was opening up.

Come to think of it, those changes had started earlier, near the end of the war. His adar had helped Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn to conquer the fortress Dol Guldur in southern Greenwood, and kill all Sauron's minions there. Then, after Celeborn's wife sailed west a few years ago, he began to visit Thranduil more and more frequently. It was when Thranduil finally returned those visits and traveled to Lothlórien that he had agreed to embark upon this quest.

And now Lord Celeborn managed Thranduil's kingdom while he was away, which spoke volumes of how much he had begun to trust his friend. In addition, Celeborn had assigned some of his subjects to rebuild Amon Lanc, the former capital of the Woodland Realm. Legolas' grandfather had ruled from there but when the forest turned dark and infested with spiders, the wood-elves had been driven further east. And then Sauron had constructed his infamous fortress in the area.

Celeborn had asked Thranduil to move back now that the fortress was demolished and the old city would be rebuilt, but he had declined. Maybe after this journey he would reconsider? If so, it would be a huge relief to leave their underground halls.

oOo

When everybody had rested and eaten their fill they continued the final part of their trip and soon they stood in the shadow of the city's first wall that rose at least a hundred feet.

"Behold the Great Gate of Minas Tirith!" bellowed Gimli, again looking extremely proud. And he should be, the mithril- and steel structure was a wonder of beauty and clever mechanics, which the dwarf told them all about. He demonstrated thoroughly how smoothly it opened and closed, sliding on tracks in the street pavement, and how the controls worked.

He was just making the guards close the gate a fifth time when a commotion drew the audience's attention. King Aragorn II Elessar, with his queen and young prince in tow, came riding down the main street.

Love welled up inside Legolas when he galloped to meet his old friend. They dismounted almost simultaneously, and caught each other in a hard hug.

"Mellon nín, am I glad to see you!" Aragorn had spoken Sindarin Elvish to Legolas, as was his habit.

"I have missed you," Legolas replied in the same language, taking a step back to regard him. He looked just the same as when they had parted; becoming a king and a father seemed not to have changed the man at all.

"This is my son Eldarion." He indicated a dark-haired toddler on a fat, black- and white pony.

Legolas started with shock, stomach plummeting when he saw the boy and sensed his spirit.

The young half-elven was mortal.

A/N:

It would seem half-elven aren't automatically immortal after all! There goes that plan down the drain...

Translations: Naneth = mother, Adar = father, mellon nín = my friend

A note about sea-longing: According to Tolkien many elves (including Legolas) get a strong desire to sail to Aman once they have seen the sea (or seagulls because they remind them of the sea). But not everyone feels it. Thranduil, for example, was a refugee in the Havens of Sirion after Doriath fell (that's the forest where he grew up) and saw the sea all the time. He still didn't sail, and in my headcanon it's because he doesn't want to be rejoined with his abusive father in Aman...

Image Credits:

The One Wiki to Rule Them All, source: https://lotr.fandom.com/wiki/Minas_Tirith?file=Minas_Tirith.jpg