.

.

"Mother? Is that you?"

The not quite so dead queen says nothing but reaches for him still. The very tips of her fingers brush against his, sending electric jolts across his skin. It tells him how very real she is and none of this is a waking dream.

Andrila stared at him, still holding the tips of his fingers like a lifeline. "O-oh." She crawls a little closer, tears glistening in her eyes. "Legolas?" her voice comes out in a squeak and Legolas nods, his chin trembling. "O-oh." Her fingers brush his chin. "Oh my boy. My beautiful boy..." A sob cracks her mouth.

They're both still effectively laying on the warm, grassy ground. Legolas leans into her touch, his eyes swelling with tears. It's only when he crawls forward that she sinks into his arms, whole and real and alive. Her fingers scratch at the back of his overcoat, gripping the fabric tightly as the front is wetted with her tears. "How old are you? How old?" She gasps when he utters his age, sinking back on her heels. "I don't understand."

He shakes his head. "Neither do I."

She gasps, slapping a hand over her open mouth. Legolas' eyes trace her form and he notices the warrior's garb she wears, torn and dirtied like she had been in a battle just minutes before.

It suddenly occurs to Legolas that maybe she had. At least, in her world.

Aindrila's hands reach for him again, fingers gently touching his chin and cheek. "You look so like your father." Her eyes widen. "Your father! He lives, right?"

Legolas nods quickly. "He's back in Mirkwood. He's...well."

"What does that mean?" Aindrila asks. "What are you doing here? Where exactly are we?"

"We're near the mountains. About a seven week walk." Aindrila's gaping at him and he feels his face flush. "I'll explain, I promise."

Her hand wraps firmly around his and he slowly gets to his feet, pulling her with him.

How could this be? How was this possible? She was...dead. For nearly two millennia and yet, here she was like no time had passed.

Was this even her?

That horrid thought settles in his mind like a poisonous snake and he turns to look into Aindrila's face. He lifts his hand and notices that his fingers are still shaking as he rests it against her cheek and concentrates.

He didn't know magic. He knew his body held it, that he was capable of great powers, but the one person who could teach him to tap into it had always refused. He did know a few things, little bits that came to him naturally. Like how to tell if someone was truly there, if the face that they carried was theirs.

His eyes fall closed as he focuses and the person that he hopes and prays is his mother remains still. When his eyes flicker back open, she's still there and her face is still the same.

She's whispering words, words that make him look away but listen deeply. "You were born on a spring morn. You came early into the world." She reaches up and brushes her fingers against the ends of his hair. "So small. Your father was afraid you wouldn't make it." A smile crosses her face, almost marveling at him. "And here you are."

His hand covers hers and he doesn't let go.

-;

"Do you remember it?"

He had built another fire to roast one of the rabbits he had captured this morning. His mother was kneeling beside the fire as he worked to prepare the meat, nibbling on a piece of bread he had given her out of his pack. They would rest for a few hours and then begin the travels back home to the Realm before the high noon.

Andrila's forehead furrowed in thought and she popped another bite of bread into her mouth. "I remember...dragonfire. And so many black riders. Oh there were so many. They had found you. They almost..." She blinks hard, the last piece of bread forgotten. "I couldn't let them touch you."

Legolas nods in understand. His father's words make so much sense now. "He told me it was Gundabad."

"It was," Aindrila says softly. "I allowed them to take me. I let them take me because then they were going to take you." Legolas flinched. "And after that...nothing. Just an eternal blackness that was broken by light." She smiled at him, tears in her eyes. "We should go. Mirkwood, has it changed much?"

Legolas gets to his feet and stamps out the fire, heaving the now cooled rabbit meat into his pack. "Father has tried to preserve it the way you left it. He, uh...he misses you. So much."

Aindrila sighed. "Let's go home." They gazed at each other for a moment and Legolas still couldn't believe it. His mother was standing right in front of him, alive. He kept wondering when he would wake from this dream.

He hoped he never would.

-;

Their travels back to the Realm seem to fly by. Legolas' nerves rise as the castle grows closer. Ho was he going to explain this? How was his father going to react? Never mind his father, how was the kingdom going to react to their queen becoming magically alive again?

A soft touch to his hand makes him jump and he looks around to see Aindrila watching him. "Try not to fret," she tells him and he almost laughs, wondering if it had been like this when he was small, his mother always able to read him like an open book.

"It's difficult not too," he admits just as they pass over the bridge to where the guards wait. Legolas watches as their faces change to expressions of pure shock as they gaze upon the alive queen. Their eyes flicker to Legolas, waiting for the nod of confirmation that this is real and Aindrila is not an imposter. Legolas gives that to them and they part to let him and the queen pass.

Aindrila gently pulls away from him to throw her arms around one guard with long dark hair. "M-milady?" Narlieth whispers into her shoulder.

Aindrila pulls away, eyes teary again. "Yes it is me."

Narlieth's gaze darts to Legolas. "I d-don't understand. How is this possible?"

"We're not sure either," Legolas shrugs. "I believe, once the king has recovered from this shock, he will know the answer."

He hoped.

After Aindrila greeted the other guards, they continued across the palace grounds. Passerby would wave to them or nod in acknowledgement at him before freezing and gaping at Aindrila. The whispers of the palace were already greeting their ears before they even got to the doors.

It's a miracle.

The queen has returned.

The queen has returned to us.

The door to his father's chambers is surprisingly unguarded but he supposes that they scattered when word got to them. He knocks once, his other hand wrapped around Aindrila's wrist.

"Enter."

His heart hammering in his throat, he walks in with his mother angled slightly behind him. He doesn't see Thranduil anywhere and Aindrila gently pulls out of his grasp and goes over to the fireplace. Flames dance in the embers, sending a relaxing heat across the chamber floor. Legolas walks over to the connecting door leading to his father's study and rapped lightly on the door. His father's voice bade him entrance and he stepped in.

Thranduil sat his desk, his back to the door, not looking up when Legolas lightly shut the door behind him. "I've already eaten, Briar. No need to ply me with anymore bread and cheese."

Legolas snorted. "It's not Briar, Father."

His father looks up so quickly that the quill he's using to scratch out some royal decree goes flying out of his hand. "Legolas!" The younger elf laughs softly as his father almost leaps to his feet and nearly trips over his robes in the process. "S-son, what are you doing back?"

Legolas reached for Thranduil's hand, capturing his wrist with his fingers. "I have something to show you. Someone, actually, who is very anxious to see you."

"Oh, Legolas, you're not going to bring me another little urchin, are you?"

"Tauriel is not an urchin and no. Come along, Father. I promise, you will like this."

Thranduil lifts a brow in surprise but does as he's told, and for one brief moment as they step back out into the main chamber, Legolas doesn't see Aindrila and believes that yes, he was in a dream and she is no longer there.

But then he does see her, standing by the grand window. The queen turns slowly on her heel, a timid smile crossing her lips and her eyes filled with so much longing. "Hello, Thranduil."

Legolas wasn't sure what he was expecting from his father. Perhaps shock and disbelief. Maybe even denial.

But he most certainly was not expecting his father to emit a battle roar and pull out his sword. "Who are you?! Why do you wear her face?!" Legolas notches an arrow, pointing it at his father's wrist but what happens after, even his elf eyes cannot follow.

When he blinks, his father is on his knees with his arm twisted behind him, the sword laying discarded somewhere across the floor. Aindrila stands over him, her face exasperated but not angry at the fact that her husband had just tried to hack her head from her shoulders. Legolas lowers his bow just slightly, watching as Thranduil's eyes widen with shock and he turns his head to stare up at Aindrila.

"Oh gods. It is you."

And then the King slumps to the floor in a dead faint.

.

.

Heehee I loved this so much. The thing is, the only person that could ever kick Thranduil's ass was his wife. That's how he knew it was her.

If there is anyone out there, do drop me a comment. Thanks loves.