Legolas found himself astride a wooden beam several weeks later, hammering in iron nails. Winter had long since arrived, but unlike Daernon's bunions had predicted, it was an unusually mild one. Only a light dusting of snow currently covered the hard ground and tufts of dry brown grass still peered through. However the severe chill that was present in the air did not hinder Legolas, it only meant that as he worked, his breath was visible occasionally in faint plumes.

Following his last conversation with his father, Legolas had requested Strider's permission and assistance with an idea that he planned on implementing in the next two months. Strider was intrigued and gladly accompanied Legolas to a forest following his request, to the base of the large oak tree, whose branches stretched out wide around it.

Legolas had cleared his throat, before attempting to explain his reasons for being there. "Much as I have enjoyed staying with you or by myself in the tiny cabin at the edge of the village, I do not think my betrothed will be amenable in the long term, to either option."

Strider's eyes twinkled, as he said with a smile, "If you were looking for amenable, you should have probably pledged yourself to another!"

The ease and companionship he now felt with Strider, allowed Legolas to laugh easily in response, a reaction that only a year ago would have been unfamiliar for the elf. Strider's eyes had lit up as the elf began to elaborate, although Strider's experience enabled him advise Legolas and temper his enthusiasm appropriately. Thereafter Legolas rounded up some of his former students and few of the older rangers. Together they collected fallen trees and timber; for no elf can bring themselves to fell a tree and began to help Legolas's plans take shape. Rapid progress was made with willing hands and the absence of the heavy snow and howling winds that usually made themselves known at this time of year. And for the first time in his long life, Legolas began to enjoy using his hands to create something out of nothing. Strider and the other rangers were well-versed in carpentry, but they gladly shared their experience and knowledge with the elf.

Now, almost six weeks after his initial request, his project nearing completion, Legolas was working alongside Strider as the day drew to a close. The bitterly cold weather, that particular day, had sent the rest of the Dúnedain workforce home early for a hot dinner. Legolas hammered in yet another nail and then picked up a board, as he silently mulled over the future ahead of him that was soon to start, when Strider abruptly interrupted his thoughts.

"I understand that your father will not be attending your wedding..."

Legolas paused, as he held a board up to his eye, checking to see whether the visible crack at one end had propagated along the length of it. He knew that the heralded arrival of an elevenking had caused a great stir in the village and perhaps more so, when the king did not actually arrive. Moreover, his princely identity among the villagers which had largely remained unknown up to that point, was now common knowledge. He lamented this turn of events, as the now markedly differential behavior from some of the villagers irked him. Wren had assured him that it would soon pass and indeed he hoped it would, the relative anonymity he had enjoyed with the Dúnedain had been a source of surprising contentment.

"... And what might have you led to that conclusion." He said with a wry observation, after determining that the board was not fatally flawed.

"Need you ask ... a little bird told me."

"Ahhh yes... My father unfortunately made a particularity distressing impression on my wife to be." Legolas said as he laid the board, resentment and hostility evident in his voice.

"That he did. Is there no reasoning with him...?" Strider looked up at him as he sat on the beam across from Legolas, his legs dangling on either side, his hammer resting on his knee.

"It seems your Rivendell tutors neglected to educate you in the character traits of my father... In all likelihood, a hundred years will pass before my Father can mention my name without the bitter taste of gall in his mouth." Legolas said.

Legolas repositioned the board and began to hammer in a nail. As he reached for another nail, he said, "My Father is disdainful of any elf kind other than the Sindar. He tolerates the wood elves as mere subjects but not equals. An elven half-cast is more than he can bear... But enough talk of him, I have no desire for my day to be darkened with talk of him and his prejudice."

Legolas paused and looked intently at Strider, "Your informant has also relayed to me that you have folly of your own, in regard to elf and mortal betrothals..."

Strider held Legolas's eye for a moment, before breaking his gaze and taking his own time to examine the board in his hands before he laid it down. "Did she now... I do not know if the information that she possesses in this particular instance, has been drawn from her own observations or from a pair of meddlesome twins, for I have not spoken a word of it to her..."

"Well, regardless, Estel, this is as good an opportunity as any for you to divulge the true contents of the tale. For how often are you gifted with a listener who intends to tread the very path you wish to walk upon ...?"

A smile quirked out the corner of Strider's mouth as he shook his head and hammered in three nails. He then began to speak, his voice contemplative as he retraced the footprints of a memory*. 

I was twenty years old, when it chanced that I returned to Rivendell after various exploits in the company of the sons of Elrond. Around sunset, I walked alone in the woods, and I sang because my heart was high and full of hope, as Elrond had just relayed some important information to me about my origins and destiny. And suddenly even as I wandered, I saw a maiden walking among the white stems of the birches. I halted amazed, thinking that I had strayed into a dream, or else that I had received the gift of the Elf-minstrels, who can make the things of which they sing appear before the eyes of those that listen.

For I had been singing a part of the story of The Lay of Lúthien, which tells of the meeting of Lúthien and Beren in the forest of Neldoreth. And behold, there was Lúthien walking before my eyes in Rivendell, clad in a mantle of silver and blue, fair as the twilight, her dark hair blowing in the breeze.

For a moment I gazed in silence, but then I feared that she would pass away and never be seen again, so I called out to her, "Tinúviel, Tinúviel!" Just like Beren had done in the Elder Days long ago.

The maiden then turned to me and smiled, and she said: "Who are you? And why do you call me by that name?"

And I answered: "Because I believed you to be indeed Lúthien Tinúviel, of whom I was singing. But if you are not she, then you walk in her likeness."

But she smiled, as she explained she was indeed not Lúthien, and told me her name. She said "I am Arwen, Elrond's daughter, also called Undómiel."

I was amazed, because although I had dwelt in Elrond's house from childhood, I had heard no word spoken of her from either Elrond or her brothers. I asked if her Father had hidden his chief treasure from men and kept her locked up in his hoard. She laughed, as she told me that she dwelt for a time in the land of my mother's kin, in far Lothlórien and she had recently returned to visit her father again.

From the moment I saw her, I have loved Arwen Undómiel, daughter of Elrond. And I have known from that same moment, that I could never truly love another for the rest of my days."

Legolas watched and listened intently as Strider became captive to his past, his eyes distant and a smile, that was etched with sorrow and longing, crept over Strider's face.

After a moment, Legolas broke the silence of Strider's reverie and spoke, "I had heard that Elrond's daughter was fair indeed. What are Lord Elrond's thoughts on the matter?"

"Her Father, shares Thranduil's views on elf and mortal betrothals. And although perhaps less acrimonious, he is bitterly opposed to any union and informed me of such, last spring, when I went to visit him."

"And what of Arwen's sentiments on the matter?"

"I do not know, for I have not seen her since that day. I know that she loves her Father too greatly to disregard his views and be parted from him. I cannot, and will not, ask her to do so." Strider's voice ached with sadness.

"And what of your own parents, Strider. I understand that your father has passed. Does your mother still live, and if so, what are her thoughts?"

"My father, Arathorn married my mother, Gilraen, even though her own father, Dírhael, opposed the marriage. Primarily because Gilraen was young, but moreover Dírhael had a foreboding that Arathorn's chieftaincy would be short-lived. He was right in that regard, I was only two years old when my father was slain by an orc-arrow that pierced his eye. Thereafter my mother took me to dwell in the house of Elrond.

"After I beheld Arwen, and my mind was consumed with her; my mother perceived that some strange thing had befallen me. When at last I yielded to her questions and told her of the meeting in the twilight of the trees, she advised me to turn from that path, as she too believed that it is not fitting that mortal should wed with the elf-kin.

"My mother lives still, and resides at Rivendell and remains bitterly resigned to my fate. The fate borne by my own choice, to walk alone if I cannot walk alongside Arwen, my Evenstar." said Strider, his voice growing quieter, the yearning in his soul clearly evident.

Legolas watched sadly as Strider seemed to age before his eyes, his young years stolen by a lonely future. Legolas was unable to offer solace, only empathy. "It seems even within mortal marriages, parents would rather prevent the heartbreak of their children than let them pursue their happiness."

"Yes, that appears to be case, a worthy cause some might say." Strider replied. "Although is it better to live alone with your heartbreak and remain that way till death..." 

He paused, as if his solemn grey eyes had sighted something far off in the distance. "Or to experience true happiness and contentment for but a short portion of your life and then be damned whatever follows thereafter."

Legolas had himself wrestled with that choice over a thousand times in the last few months, so he knew without a shadow of doubt, the answer his own heart had decided upon. "You know what path I have chosen, gwador nín*. I can only hope that at some point in this life, a similar choice is offered to you and your beloved." As he spoke, his voice was soft, full of newfound compassion.

Strider returned Legolas's gaze with a pensive, yet wistful look in his eyes. Then Strider abruptly shook his head and said, with some of his natural humor returning, "Enough talk of fine women my good elf, they distract us from the task at hand. I can finish nailing these boards in whilst you go and split that log over there, we need it for the lintel."

Legolas smiled, as he jumped down from his perch and wandered over the nearby yew branch that was lying on the ground. He raised the axe and began to split it. On the advent of the third swing, his ears pricked at the slightest sound of movement in the underbrush ahead of him.

He stopped, axe raised in midair, his shoulders tensed in readiness for a fight. Suddenly a voice called out in elvish, clear and full of mirth. 

"Why Thranduilion, who would have thought that you could swing an axe so beautifully. The dwarves would be honored to have you join their ranks!"

Elrohir came into view from as he emerged from the forest, his mirror image, Elladan, followed a few paces behind leading a black stallion that was laden with supplies.

"A year ago, and I might have thrown this very axe at your head for such a remark, but I have now reason to fear that Wren may not forgive me..." Legolas said with a wry smile as he lowered his axe.

"Aha, speaking of our little bird, if we had known she was to be snatched up by a Mirkwood elf in our absence, we would have remained in attendance." Laughed Elladan, as he stretched his arm across his chest to formally greet Legolas, who responded similarly. Strider had leaped down to greet the twins as well, though he did it with a bear hug embrace.

"Congratulations elf prince, I hope you know what you are taking on... If I had been but a younger man..." Added Elrohir as he shook Legolas's hand warmly, his eyes twinkling.

"Age is not the obstacle my brother... why would she settle for your face, when she could have mine?" Said Elladan, as he dodged a blow to his shoulder from his twin.

Legolas could not help but be amused by the banter that flowed so easily from the sons of Elrond.

"I am afraid that both of you were placed at a disproportionate disadvantage following my arrival ..." Legolas grinned.

Laughter was free flowing, as Elrohir announced. "Well, fear not Prince-ling, we have returned for the wedding celebration and we come bearing gifts. So, let the festivities commence now that we are in attendance... Assuming that you have nearly finished, whatever it is you are doing..." Elrohir gestured the partially constructed dwelling.

Legolas laughed and responded graciously, "It is not finished, but it can wait till tomorrow, I am sure that it will now be completed ahead of schedule with your able-bodied assistance! But for now, I know of a young, dark-haired ranger that will be especially jubilant upon your return..."

-0-0-0-0-0-

*memory - I have paraphrased the sections in Italics straight from Tolkien's Appendices at the end of the Lord of the Rings, Appendix A, Part V, titled 'Tale of Aragorn and Arwen'

*gwador nín~ my sworn brother  

So this update is a week late, apologies... Real life and some procrastination got in the way, as I tried to figure out how to engineer some dude bonding and memories in this chapter. But on upside the twins are BAAAACK...its all kicking off in this part of Middle Earth!

I would love to receive your comments and please VOTE on this chapter if you enjoyed it. Each vote and comment helps the wider circulation of my story, I really appreciate them!