Epilogue – The Stars Forever Dwell

Legolas passed out into the silent night still singing softly under his breath. The merry ballad that he and Bilbo had composed together long ago faded as his mood changed. The notes still rang out sweetly in the stillness but now they were laden with sorrow and the weight of immortal love.

Undomiel, Undomiel last star of your people
Go not hence with the shades of men
For the sake of the Elfstone the shades I dare
Never the shores of Valinor shall I see

For the love of the Evenstar on he rode
Though the shadows of the Oathbreakers bared the way
Her banner above him swung in the wind
And the mists wreathed around the brow of the king

I too shall remain amid the passing of years
Day and years amid the mortal ones
For the love of the lady of the twilight sky
And the love of the lord of the white tree

A slender maid in the dusk of the day
Long ago she bade me farewell
As I rode away to the deepening night
Beneath the trees of the shadowed wood

The notes drifted faintly in the wind even as the elf passed away from the camp. Gandalf's sharp ears caught them first and he paused in his recounting of some long ago adventure.

The tent fell silent as the rest picked up the gentle strain, listening intently in the darkness. Their faces fell as the heard the sorrow that laced the gentle words and the tale of the love that bound the elf to them yet.

"He will remain in Middle Earth until the end of our days" said Aragorn softly, "I had hoped that it might be so, and yet I would not keep him here sorrowing."

Gandalf smiled at him, "You at least should know that the moods of the Eldar are changeable, he will remain and have peace and joy for many years."

Frodo looked at him concerned, "Will he recover here? I saw a little of his time in the tower, surely some wounds can only be healed in Valinor."

Aragorn gave the hobbit a piercing glance "You saw him?"

Frodo blushed, "Twice, once as I stood tempted by the ring and once earlier before we reached the mountain." He turned to Gandalf a pleading look in his eyes, "Tell me, will he ever handle a bow again?" A look of pain lay within his clear eyes, "I saw them destroy and twist his body; how does one recover from such cruelty? I can see that even now he is not yet whole though he tries to hide it."

Aragorn and Gimli and Gandalf shared a look, their thoughts flashing back to the aftermath of the battle.

Gandalf turned away from the elf to seek the hobbits who had saved them all. He was more than a little worried about the well-being of the prince but he knew that he was strong and would surely survive whatever Sauron had devised while the hobbits were trapped within the flaming inferno that had once been Mordor…

Aragorn looked around, his joy all-consuming and boundless. The great shadow was gone, his people were free and safe, no longer need he fear the death of all he held dear.

Legolas!

A stab of self-condemnation pierced him as he searched for the form of his friend. How could he have forgotten, the elf had been gravely wounded. A glint of gold caught his eye and he saw the slight form collapsing, his borrowed sword falling to the ground as his hurts and utter exhaustion made themselves known.

Beside him Gimli darted forward to aid their friend. The pained grey eyes opened as they came up and a smile lit the bleeding face shining still amid the desolation wrecked upon him before his abused body went limp.

They carried him back to a makeshift camp and laid the painfully wasted figure upon a soft bed beneath the sky that he loved. Then came the painful task of discovering and healing the wounds of nigh a fortnight at the mercy of Sauron. Elladan and Elrohir stood with him as they cut away what remained of his clothing.

It took them several long moments to control their horror and anger, for even the elven lords were aghast at the brutality that their friend had been submitted to, though they knew that they could have expected no less.

Legolas was not only a dear friend but had also been a teacher and mentor to all three, to see their shining example of strength and beauty thus trampled was heart-wrenching. The prince was covered in blood and grime, dark slashes across his chest and his back. Several of his ribs were at least damaged beneath the emaciated skin.

Whip lashes and burns covered and recovered the entire length of his long lean body. His wrists and ankles were abraded and swollen and his right shoulder dislocated, the heels of his feet burned and bleeding. But worst of all was the wreck of his right hand.

The twins set themselves to the horrible task of setting the shattered bones while Aragorn tended the rescued hobbits.

When at last the hand looked again like a hand, Gandalf had taken it in his firm grasp, assuring them that Legolas would shoot his beloved bow again.

Throughout it all Gimli stood silent, to the side where he would not hinder their work, but always watching exuding a quiet strength and firmness. Simply there with his friend.

"He will recover" said Gimli fiercely, "he did not even bend under Sauron, he will not fail to heal. He cannot. He will shoot and sing and laugh with us. He is Legolas."

The wind shifted and so did the song, the aching sadness and inevitable loss vanished and in their place Legolas now sang of the joy and beauty, the passing of the shadow. The air swelled with the sound as he circled back towards the tents, joyous and young, free as the prince's heart and soul from stain of the darkness. Wild and beautiful, loving and loyal beyond belief.

I Tele (The End)

Well here I am at the end of all things, well no, just the end of this story. Thank you to everyone who reviewed and made it such a lovely ride.

Last notes: (Reviewer notes at the very end)

I have absolutely no pretensions to being accomplished at poetry or song-smithing...so forgive Legolas' song (at least it isn't meant to rhyme).

Also, before anyone asks Legolas is not in love with Arwen, he just loves her and the rest.

The ending for A Cruel Welcome will be up as soon as I write it, and I am continuing with HOB and FI as well as beginning a new story that intrigued me.

I have never tried a "trailer" to another story until now, it will be called The Faithful and deals with the last days of Numenor...also AU because a certain prince manages to get himself involved.

Queen Inzilbêth looked anxiously behind her as she entered the courtyard of her uncle's palace. She could only hope that her husband had no news of her flight, for Ar-Gimilzôr was a hard man and there was now no love between them.

For a time perhaps he had been entranced by her beauty though she had wed him only out fear for her family, for she was of the faithful who yet honored the Valar and welcomed the Eldar among them. Even this slight hold upon him had long since passed, though her beauty had not yet faded.

It was their children that now caused the open rift between them. Their eldest, Inziladûn was like unto his mother, fair of face, courteous and kindly, more like unto Elros then many of his latest forefathers. The younger, Gimilkhâd, however, was the child of his father, handsome and prideful in appearance, he openly disdained the Valar and of elves he would speak nothing but evil.

It was for the sake of her eldest that she now sought the wisdom of the Lord of Andúnië. The long years of seeing only the arrogance of his father and friends and their slurs of the Eldar were at last taking their toll upon her child's spirit. No longer did he seek out his mother for takes of the Eldar days and songs and lore of old. Now he sought the company of the rich and the proud, and her heart bled within her to see the innocence of her child tainted by the court.

Gracefully, she dismounted and handed her horse over to the care of the waiting servant, keeping her veil bound about her face. From the outside the palace seemed void of light and sound, for clothe was drawn over the windows and no laughter or light-hearted chatter rang out as it had once.

Silently she slipped within, keeping to the shadows until she reached Eärendur's private chambers. She did not knock, but slipped within his study, blinking in the light.

She looked up and her eyes widened with astonishment and horror. She, the queen of Númenor was staring into the face of her husband's greatest fears.

An elf sat in the light, it pooled gleaming on his golden hair and lit his fair face with a rosy glow. He stood and bowed.

"Queen Inzilbêth" he said softly, his voice hushed and musical "Please have a seat while I seek out your uncle."

To Reviewers:

bettsam0731: Thanks again. Since you asked...the above is my next pet project...

Guest: I think I might have cried a little at some point...I just can't remember where...I think when I was writing chapter 9...Yes I wanted Frodo to have a go at breaking away...by seeing what the ring truly was at that last crucial moment.

bella13446: More to come...

Just A Reviewer: Hmmm...I hoped people would laugh...this one is a bit more intense...I hope you like it. I can't seem to write happy/funny without sadness or sadness/angst without some happiness.

XxDrenchedinSinxX: Not quite the ending...glad you liked it!

Pip The Dark Lord of All: What can I say? Thanks!

Shire Rose

Also I recently found one of the most amazing LOTR fics out there, sadly unfinished...its called The Song of Iluvatar and it's by Mia-philosphet. If you are looking for something heart-breakingly beautiful in its depth and passion...even unfinished it is worth reading. It's on my favorites list. (I don't have any connection with the author beyond falling in love with her story.)