I don't see, or hear, or feel anything other than Thranduil's presence next to mine. For once in such a long time my world has ceased its erratic spinning, and I can actually catch my breath.

His hands are like burning veins that sear into my skin and join us together - just like the ivy vine that signified our union at our wedding feast. I want to surrender to him entirely and forget the past several years as if they were just a horrible dream, or lonely memory not worth remembering. But, we are in the company of our people, thousands of elven spirits all waiting to be allowed the same moment of reuniting with their own loved ones.

Reluctantly I pull my gaze from Thranduil's and let it drift behind him, though I still hold his hands tightly - I don't know if I can let him go.

The noble elves of court have ascended the steps, and now they await the commands of their King. I can almost see the hundreds of questions dance in their anxious eyes. I can almost hear their resounding thoughts; what will we do now? How will we recover the wounded? What expenses will we be crippled with from this war? Can we trust this one to lead us like his father?

So much uncertainty...it is practically stifling!

"My lord?" Olban's soft and kindly voice breaks the weighted tension as he shoulders his way to the front of the huddle; "My lord the people await your command."

Thranduil goes rigid and I automatically sense the change in his spirit. It cloisters itself, retracting away from me and hiding behind a very well-constructed mask of cold indifference. I cautiously watch his hard eyes - the pupils flickering as he mentally considers his response and works hard to ensure it is a reasonable one. I haven't seen him this careful since the early days of his dragon fire recovery, and suddenly I realize just how injured he truly is.

"There is nothing to command," Thranduil answers quickly as he twists away from me with such speed that it takes me a moment to register he isn't holding my hands any longer. "These warriors are exhausted...they need peace."

"Of course my lord," Olban bows his head in the still gentle voice that is so disarming that Thranduil visibly relaxes with him. "Would my lord wish us to relieve them from duty...or would my lord wish to retain that honour himself?"

A heartbeat of silence fills the air and a flash of a dozen emotions fall over my husband's face so quickly that I am convinced he turns a sickly grey.

Instinctively I reach for his hand and squeeze it comfortingly. This is a shock, of that I'm certain, I suppose it is that moment when suddenly you realise that all those eyes out there are actually waiting on you to say something comforting, anything at all that will ease their anxieties. That moment when there is no one left but you, and no one else to turn to make the simplest decisions...you are who everyone is looking to.

It is a lonely moment.

"We can speak on your behalf your Majesty," Calanon speaks up, appearing from the back wearing a concerned look. I am sure his healer instincts have kicked in and he is feeling what I am sensed; Thranduil is injured and traumatized and this is just a tad bit overwhelming, even for him.

"Lady Clara has attended to the readying of the Healing Halls, we are ready to receive any wounded or those who just need respite and care. You do not need to utter another word my lord, you need rest too. This can be done later...there is absolutely no rush..."

"No!" Thranduil snaps and raises his hand, wincing slightly at the jolt, making me increasingly concerned over how badly he is physically hurt; "No, I have led them this far, I can spare them a few more moments. It is the very least they deserve."

Hastily he stomps a little too heavily down the steps, ignoring the staff that the smaller ellon - who I assume as the squire from before - tries to insist he take.

Assuming a visible position in front of the guard and the vast majority of the civilians of the realm, he is met with much cheering and songs of welcome and thankfulness. With a raise of his hand the crowds fall silent and every ear listens - I can only marvel at how easily he commands attention, they truly adore him.

"We have been victorious, the enemy has been stripped of his powers and our peace secured." Thranduil's calm statement is void of any overexcitement, but he at least maintains a clear voice and ever so endearing smile for the briefest of moments. The people cheer, and the guards chant their songs of victory and strength, such enthusiasm echoed in all their voices that is hard to not find a more proud people. Again Thranduil raises his hand and the voices die away, his face shifting into a more sorrowful expression the look in his eyes making my heart lurch;

"But many have fallen in pursuit of this cause," He continues, and I am suddenly aware of the tangible sorrow in the air. Thranduil straightens his broad shoulders, and works hard to hold his head high as he continues;

"Friends, brothers, sisters, sons and daughters, have all given their lives so we may reside in peace again, so we may live to flourish and grow again under the eaves of the forest that bore us and protects us. My own father perished to protect that very ideal, that whether we be Sindar or Silvan, we are connected by spirit to the roots of this very forest and all it stands for...it is our sanctuary, our dynasty, and will remain so unto the ending of the world. So today, and every day hence, we honour the dead by enduring and protecting that heritage."

Another tremendous cheer echoes throughout the forest, and yet again Thranduil pacifies it with a slight raise of his arm. He bows his head this time, and I sense the looming significance of his next statement; "I am a lord among my father's people, a blessed son of my Mother's kin in the West, but I am first and foremost a child of this forest, raised and taught by the laws and customs of our people. I shall only ever call myself King if that is the will of my people."

I hold my breath, because the moment is so weighted that I am not sure if I can breathe comfortably without disturbing it.

The seconds seem to pass painfully slowly as the huge inhale from the collective people is felt in the air. My eyes scan the sea of faces looking for answers, trying to gauge a reaction, anything to tell me how they truly feel about this but I see nothing other than echoed brotherhood and loyalty that goes beyond just the physical.

Then I see it.

The first waves of people kneeling before their King and how the action reverberates out into the masses. How one follows the other in unanimous agreement. Thranduil is their King of that there is no doubt. From where I watch I can almost see Thranduil roll back on his heel in shock at their very clear statement, and so with a nod of his head he gestures to the guard;

"My warriors... go welcome your families. Take rest and comfort one another for the days of recovery will be long and difficult." With that said Thranduil swivels on his heel and strides determinedly towards the nobles who instantly bow deeply at his approach, pausing at the foot at the steps he turns briefly and orders; "There will be seven days of reprieve, and in the twilight of the seventh day we will celebrate and feast in remembrance of the lives no longer with us." A unanimous grumble of approval is heard and suddenly the remnants of the council disperse and I am left staring once again at not just my mate...but the King of Greenwood.

I slip into a deep curtsy because I believe it is proper that a Queen should be seen to submit faithfully to her King.

I remain with my eyes downcast as I watch Thranduil's well-worn boots climb the steps and come to a stop beneath me. I feel a familiar hand cup my chin, yanking it upwards so I am looking him in those beautifully hypnotic eyes, which are suddenly so confused and unsure.  I don't believe I have ever welcomed him like this before, at least not in seriousness.  He offers me his hand and gladly I accept it so he may fluidly raise me to my feet, and once I am standing upright again, he plants a very firm hand to my waist and guides me away from the crowds and back into the caves.

We walk silently through the main corridors, followed of course by the nobles and the very persistent squire who is still diligently carrying Thranduil's staff and keeping irritatingly close to us. I am beginning to think the young ellon will be joining us in our bed chamber at this rate. Eventually I tire of the entourage and as we approach a set of familiar yet inconspicuous doorways that are the private hallways leading to the King's home, I spin to face our following;

"My husband is weary and he needs rest, you will give him at least tonight to recuperate before you begin making demands off of him...is that understood?" I order with a raised eyebrow and rather sour look when the young squire scowls determinedly at me...like he disagrees?

"His majesty has certain needs that must be attended too, if you would just allow me to assist you home I can care for him then leave you in peace," The ardent little elf insists, and I can't help the look of impatience that flits across my face. I just want a few minutes with my husband, seriously, is that too much to ask around here?

"Galion you are relieved of your duties, any needs his majesty may have can be fulfilled by his wife, of that I am certain," Calanon pipes up quietly, and tries to shoo off the elf he obviously knows. I blush slightly at the insinuation in my friend's voice, and when I look to Thranduil he is quite clearly suppressing a smirk.

"Galion!" Thranduil chuckles, his voice a little hoarse from his impromptu speech, the tiredness evident in his eyes; "Go home mellon nin, your family will be worried sick, you have done enough for me already."

"But my lord...the ointments must be made up and I will have to ensure someone knows how to prepare your herbal tea...you know it helps you sleep better!" Galion persists and eyes me like I wouldn't have the foggiest notion where to start caring for my own husband!

"Clara knows," Thranduil insists and waves his concerns off; "Please Galion, I need to see my family, please just trust me to look after myself for one night. You can call in the morning to check if everything is up to standard...is that agreeable?"

"Well yes, I suppose, but my lord you must, must, promise me to have that wound bathed and redressed...if you promise me that I will rest easier," Galion begs and I can't help sweeping my gaze over Thranduil, trying to work out what he is hiding from me.

"What wound?" I question, and Thranduil rolls his eyes in exasperation before frowning rather angrily at the unperturbed Galion.

"It's nothing," Thranduil assures me breathily - whilst staring daggers at the imperious young ellon; "I promise Galion, now off you go. We shall speak in the morning."

Just as Galion attempts to argue the point, Thranduil clutches me around the waist and practically pushes me through the open doorway.

Before anyone can follow us, both Thranduil and I nod to the guards standing sentry to shut the doors firmly behind us, which they do without question.

Standing on the opposite side of the door in the deserted corridors with their high archways, and wonderfully sculpted stone trees laden with real flowers, and spewing moss covered fountains, Thranduil and I both sigh with relief.

That was a little trickier than I had expected, but at last I am alone with him and it takes him less than a second to process that fact. I chance a peek up at him and feel my cheeks flush with giddy warmth - he is home and I can barely contain my excitement.

I watch with utter delight as his dazzling smile lights his eyes and then the hand that was guiding my waist suddenly grips me tightly. In a blur of movement I am spun flush against Thranduil's scorching torso. My arms instinctively wrap around him, one clutching his back and the other grasping a fistful of his hair, whilst I bury my face into his neck and place my lips to the tender skin there. Thranduil's other hand is raking through my hair, pushing my face closer to him while he nuzzles my cheek and ear, occasionally grazing my exposed shoulder with his chapped lips. But, after a few minutes I become aware of the wetness of tears as they drip on my shoulder, or when I feel his damp eyelashes caress my cheek. I don't question them, or draw attention to them, because I am more or less certain I am guilty of exactly the same thing.

"I missed you," I sniff pathetically, as I steady my hands against the metal shoulder plates of his armour.

I note for the first time that he wears no breast plate, nor does he sport anything restrictive around his abdomen. Worriedly I let my right hand slide from his shoulder to his chest, but before I can ask another question or investigate further his lips find mine in a chaste but lingering kiss.

"Say that again," He whispers in a gravelly voice against my lips. That voice muddles up my thought pattern, and I can barely gain command over my own lips to kiss him back, nor can I find the words he commands.

"I missed you..." I half chuckle at the odd request, but am abruptly halted when his long fingers cradle my face and he groans almost painfully in response.

"Ai Clara...your voice...there is no memory or dream that Irmo could ever bless me with that could replace the joy of hearing it with my own ears," Thranduil mumbles out, for his lips are still tracing every crevice and dip of mine. Tempting me to either speak again or let him kiss me in a much less dignified way...I'm not sure which one he desires more in this moment.

I can't help the grin that plays on my lips, or how I lean away from his advancing movements just so I can look him in those beautiful eyes one more time.

His fingers curl around my face pulling me closer to him, and then he latches his mouth with mine in one hell of an intoxicating kiss that renders me as weak as putty. His tongue draws a ticklish line across my lower lip before he gently urges me to make the kiss deeper and much more passionate - I comply of course.

Oh how I get lost in this wonderful embrace, for I can still remember with such agonising clarity the moment when I felt him almost depart this world. When he was almost ripped from me, and at that memory the flames of my spirit tentatively seem to lick around a barely knitting wound, making me wince involuntarily. The sensation only making me much aware that I am here, with him tightly locked in my arms, tasting him on my tongue and letting his spirit kindle the embers of mine. This feeling is nothing short of miraculous.

It is easy to forget the time and place as my free hands slide across Thranduil's strong arms and broad back. I draw him closer with each inhale as I kiss him deeper still, enjoying this moment, enjoying remembering the passion in just a kiss. I sigh contentedly and he groans in satisfaction, and before I can stop myself my fingers find the hem of his travel worn navy tunic and slip expertly underneath it.

Instead of finding flame hot skin, I find thick bandage and packing gauze?

As my hand rests gently on the thickest wrapped section Thranduil hisses a little and breaks our kiss. I don't speak, I just watch him carefully for a reaction, my brows pulled together in concern. He merely sighs and pulls my hand away from his bandaged stomach, kissing my fingertips before cradling them against his cheek.

"It was a war Clara," He murmurs sadly, his eyes faraway for just a moment; "It could have been much worse. Don't be sad meleth; I don't want to see you frown...not today."

"You'll let me see later won't you?" I query quietly, as I stroke strands of his platinum hair from his drawn face, noting now how dull and overly long his hair has become, and how brittle it feels to my fingertips - he really does need care; "You will tell me what happened?"

"Only if you tell me...Clara what did you do?" It is Thranduil's turn to question me, as his eyes sweep me appraisingly and suddenly I feel quite self conscious.

"I don't know what you mean?" I mumble and divert my gaze, but his fingers draw my chin upwards again.

"Your feä is so frail; you are as white as snow...what happened? Please tell me I am not the cause of this Clara?" He begs, but I haven't the heart to lie to him - I know how I must look. I have purposely been avoiding mirrors, and even with Gilron's attention this morning I still feel more than a little haggard.

"I did what I had to do!" I reply resolutely and clasp the left side of his face in my hand ensuring his eyes never leave mine; "We don't say goodbye Thranduil...you said that...so I refused to tell you goodbye. I held on, and my love I'd gladly do it again if it was asked of me. You are home now - alive and well - that is all that matters!"

"You could have faded!" He warns me forcefully, his eyes growing sorrowful at the thought, the roughness in his voice returns so it trembles slightly. "Ai Clara, you are so reckless! But it is true...I could not have survived without you, I hope you know that? I swear to you I will fix this, I will make you well...I promise meleth nin."

"Just you being here is making me well," I give him a dazzling smile just to prove my point, and he manages a soft grin in return; "My spirit is already healing, I can feel it, just promise you won't leave me again anytime soon, okay?"

"I doubt I can," Thranduil chuckles and bobs his head slightly in the direction of the locked doors; "I doubt you and I will be able to go anywhere without an entourage now."

"So it seems...I thought that young squire was going to be tucking you in tonight," I snigger as I stretch up on my tiptoes to plant a little kiss to his nose, which seems to soften him. Thranduil rolls his eyes and shakes his head at the mere mention of the young elf, before shrugging in a sort of non-committal agreement.

"I would not put it past him to try," Thranduil answers me with what I hope is a joking apologetic look. When I frown, he just chuckles and kisses the crease between my brows and of course that just makes me melt straight back into his arms. Where we stay interlocked for a blissful and undisturbed perfect moment in time.

"Clara?" Thranduil finally breaks the silence, and firmly halts my attempt to snuggle into his chest again; "Where are my children?  I want to see my boy, and my little light, where is she?"

I suppress a snigger at the impatience and mild annoyance in his voice at my failed plan at hogging his attention just a few minutes longer. I thought it would have been easier to let him go, to share him, but the small selfish part of me is just so ecstatic to have him to myself. But he just has to mention our children and I am filled with anticipation, for I am just as excited as he is to see them reunited with their father. Grinning I step away from him and take his hand.

"Come...let's go home," I command him, and I watch with delight as the dullness in his eyes dissipates and a lightness begins to creep over his countenance. "You have a little welcoming committee awaiting you."

With a musical laugh, and the most genuine look of happiness I have seen in a long time, Thranduil allows me to pull him along the winding corridors and bridges of our home. I take it slowly, letting him savour the sights, the sounds, and smells of home. He pauses every so often to stare whimsically at something inconsequential, or he will point and query to things that he does not recognize, or he will stall to inspect the newly planted flowers and shrubs. But I notice that by the time we reach our private halls, he has become withdrawn and ashen again.

Pausing by the dancing fountain he seems to deliberate his next actions.

"Thranduil...love...are you alright?" I query softly as I tiptoe to his side, and press my palm to his clammy forehead. "Do you want to sit for a minute?"

"N-no...I'm fine," He mumbles, but leans into me for a little more support; "It is just...I do not remember a time in my life when my Adar was not waiting for me beyond those doors."

I don't have any words to comfort him with as we both stare at the very familiar veranda, which leads to the open golden lattice doors, all covered in climbing roses. I cannot imagine what it must feel like to lose a parent, especially one that has been a huge part of your life for thousands of years. It does feel unnatural to not have Oropher waiting, he would always be the first to greet his son, either to berate or embrace him. Sadly I rub my husband's hunched shoulders, and clutch his arm tightly, hoping I can convey my understanding of the enormity of this moment for him. After a time of silent contemplation he nods to himself, and so the two of us ascend the steps and enter our home for the first time together in several long years.

Once within the confines of our home, Thranduil forlornly lets go of my arm and begins his slow familiarisation with his surroundings. I remain a few paces behind him as he runs his hands along stone walls tracing out the grooves in the rocks. Sometimes he pauses to straighten a vase, or tapestry, but he does not speak nor does he attempt to verbalize the obvious turmoil that rolls out from his feä in tremendous waves. He isn't coping very well at all, but I know him well enough not to push him. He'll fall apart on his own terms and not before it, and certainly not in such a vulnerable situation. I am pretty certain he will even try to hide his grief from me, but he needs to navigate this on his own and I have every faith he can do it with incredible grace.

When we reach the spacious family living rooms I hold my breath, because this will be the hardest part. This room is still very much filled with the presence of his father, and I still can't bring myself to disturb his armchair and books. Predictability Thranduil goes rigid when he clocks the chair.

Carefully he approaches the familiar objects and outstretches his hand to touch the robe, his fingers hover momentarily over the material before he snatches it back and steps away...almost like he had been scorched by the memory. In his confusion he spins to look at me with such panicked eyes that it is instinctual for me to reach for him. In a second we collide and I wrap my arms tightly around his shoulders, allowing him the brief reprieve he needs to compose himself.

"Sshhh, it's okay," I murmur as I rhythmically stroke his back, in my attempt to still his slight trembling. He attempts to articulate something, but it only comes out as a half broken sob, so he considers better of it and just clutches me tightly...like I anchor him...as I knew I would have to.

As we stand locked together I spy, over Thranduil's shoulder, three familiar figures as they crowd an arched doorway. I smile warmly at Elbes and quietly mouth for her to bring the children forward.

I press a finger to my lips for the children when they appear from their obscured position behind the supporting arch. Both Legolas and Celairiel immediately nod and stare wide eyed at the sight of their Adar, but still they remain shyly glued to Ellie's side.

Celairiel almost melts into the folds of her nursemaids powder blue skirts, and I know this must be incredibly surreal for her. The only memories she has of her father are from when she was a baby, she was after all, not even a year old when he left. Legolas on the other hand is itching to bridge the gap between he and his long absent father, I can plainly see the impatience and the sheer happiness shining out from his youthful eyes. With a grin I press my lips against Thranduil's ear, and place my hands on his shoulders;

"The welcome committee are here," I whisper as I gently peel him away from me and prod him to face the direction of his children.

There is one weighted heartbeat of silence as Thranduil's gaze sweeps over his children for the first time in what must feel like forever. I watch his reactions carefully, for I know how much they have grown and I can see the utter disbelief mixed with the beginnings of registration, that these are in fact his little ones. Fresh tears begin to well in his eyes as he breaks into a smile and steps towards his son...for Legolas is already inching towards his Ada. In a moment his son echoes his father's smile and they are racing the distance between them.

"Ada..." Legolas cries softly as he hurls himself into Thranduil's waiting arms, accidentally knocking his father back a few steps with the force of the collision.

I wince and open my mouth to warn Legolas to be careful when I spy a sickly look of pain roll over Thranduil's features, but he abruptly shakes his head at me and so I remain silent. He clearly does not want anything to ruin this moment for him, not even his injuries will stop him enjoying this.

"Legolas...look at you!" Thranduil laughs delightedly as he pulls his son away to appraise him at arm's length. "Ai...where has my little leaf gone...what happened to you?"

"I am almost as tall as you!" Legolas giggles excitedly as she grips his father's arms with a vice like hold, unwilling to let him go for a second.

"Almost," Thranduil nods proudly, and tugs his son close to him to measure his height against himself; "I would say you are only a hair's breadth from my shoulder ion nin...oh my boy I missed you so."

Thranduil takes advantage of Legolas being pressed to his chest to wrap him up in a tighter embrace, and I can barely contain my happy tears as he envelopes himself around our son and kisses his fair crown repeatedly. It takes all of about a minute to pass before Legolas starts to sob and I know he is just completely overwhelmed, and to be truthful, I am happy to sob along with him.

"Legolas...my little greenleaf," Thranduil quietly soothes as he kneels down on one knee to look up into his son's huge tear rimmed eyes. Cupping his young face in his hands, the two share a tender and meaningful look before Thranduil speaks; "You have been so brave ion nin...so brave! I could not be more proud."

"I was so frightened when they said you were missing...I just thought...when Grandpa...I thought you weren't coming back-" Legolas rasps out the sentence as best he can before a fresh torrent of tears roll down his cheeks. Thranduil swallows hard, and catches the child's falling tears with his thumbs before drawing him back into another protective embrace.

"I miss Grandpa," Legolas sobs pitifully, and I watch on uselessly as Thranduil's chest heaves in attempt to stifle his own tears.

"I know ion...me too," He just about sighs in response before cuddling Legolas a little tighter; "But he would only be angry at us both for crying, would he not?"

"Yes," Legolas lets out a defeated chuckle as he swipes at his eyes with his sleeve; "He would be especially angry at you...he always called you a silly little elleth when you got upset."

Thranduil barely contains a messy laugh, which comes out more like a snort in his vain attempt to conceal any evidence of his tears. Shaking his head he places another kiss to our son's brow and smiles adoringly. Legolas grins back, pure happiness and relief swimming in his glowing features as he turns to look back at his sister...who still cowers fearfully into Elbes.

"Are you not going to say hello to Ada?" He attempts to coax his little sister with a beckoning hand.

Celairiel's anxious gaze flits to mine for confirmation first, and I smile encouragingly for her to follow after her brother but instead she shrinks further into Ellie's skirts. Stuffing her hand into her mouth she bashfully turns away from us, and I can't help but hurt for Thranduil. His whole countenance falls at his daughter's reaction, and I know he is at a loss as how to breach the gap with her.

"Celairiel...come say hello to your Ada," I command softly as I step towards her and try to unravel her from Elbes.

"It is alright," Ellie soothes, "Are you not going to show your Ada your lovely new dress...hmm? You said you had to wear it especially for him this morning?

"Nnmm," She mumbles through her lips still crushed behind her hand, then beckons for me to come close so she can whisper something in my ear. I lean into her and she pushes herself under my cascade of hair, obscuring herself further from view; "What if Ada doesn't like me?"

"Why would he not like you?" I question, pulling my brows together in confusion, although I repeat her question for my husband's benefit. "Sweetheart your Ada loves you very much...of course he will like you."

"But...he might not remember me?" She muses anxiously and peers shyly at her Ada through my mass of wavy hair. When Thranduil catches her gaze he gives a tiny smile, but the warmth and love in his eyes is enough to draw Celairiel out from her hiding.

"I remember you," Thranduil answers her in a soft voice as he kneels to her level - the motion causing obvious pain. "How could I forget my beautiful little light...but does she not remember me?"

Celairiel shakes her head and nervously plays with the silver hem of her lemon dress. Taking a few brave breaths in, she lifts her startling eyes to appraise her father and then bravely steps towards him with outstretched hands.

Thranduil doesn't rush her, or attempt to hug her without her permission - even though I know it is exactly what he wants to do. Instead he patiently lets her trace the plains of his face with her small fingers. After a few moments he pauses her delicate hands and takes them in one of his own, and with his other he tips her chin upwards so she looks at him. In the moment I can almost see the recognition within their spirits, and I see the wide smile spread across my daughter's angelic face, lighting her up so she almost glows.

"Ada..." She murmurs quietly, and then she happily throws herself into him. Wrapping her tiny arms around his neck and melting into his strong arms as they protectively wind around her. "Ada...what took you so long?"

Thranduil starts to laugh gently at the question, as he buries his face into her cheek and kisses her repeatedly. I can't help the chuckle I let out at the question too, and suddenly the tense moment from before is long forgotten, and any worries cease to exist.

With my help, Thranduil comes back into standing, still cradling a very happy Celairiel, whilst Legolas comes to wrap his arms around my waist and grin triumphantly up at us. Yes, I know exactly what he is thinking - at last his family are all in one place, his prayers have been answered yet again. I smile deliriously back and rest my head on top of his; I don't think I could imagine a more perfect moment if I tried.

"Ada...Ada...I told Nana you would come home so I did!" Celairiel chirps excitedly, as she pats his cheek impatiently. "Nana was sad...but I knew you would come home. I dreamed it!"

"You did?" Thranduil asks with the suitable amount of awe that she expects.

"Yes! And Ada I knew you were coming home because the tree-songs said so." Celairiel continues, clearly ecstatic with her father's interest in her tales. "We planted a lullaby tree...did you know that? And I sang to it every day, I made Legolas too, sometimes he wouldn't but I made him...because you can hear the songs too can't you?"

"I heard your songs," Thranduil confirms with a nod, and before Celairiel can question him further, he begins to hum. Celairiel obviously follows the familiar tune, and with wide eyes filled with wonderment and awe she hums back. Thranduil trails off the tune and leans in to press another fond kiss to his daughter's brow; "How could I forget such a beautiful voice...my sweet light I heard you."

"I heard you too Ada," She suddenly sniffs, and buries her face into his neck, cuddling him close. "I love you Ada...and I missed you so much."

"I missed you too...I missed all of you," Thranduil mutters painfully, as he outstretches his hand to Legolas and I - we of course join in on the hug.

Legolas tucks himself in under his father's free arm, whilst I wrap my arms around his waist and curl into his back, resting my head peacefully on his shoulder.

"I love you all so much," He sighs quietly, and rests his head to mine; "I swear to the Valar now, that I will never be parted from any of you again...I cannot bear the distance."

"Ssshh," I whisper and squeeze him just a little tighter; "You are home now love...it's over."

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A/N: I thought I'd update early as a little surprise! \(*-*)/
Thank you to everyone voting, commenting, and all those readers.
What do you think of the little family reunion? What about some alone time for our favourite couple? Do you not think they have a lot to talk about? I do!