Disclaimer:Okay... for the seventeenth time in this fic, I would like to say that I don't own anybody, any place, or anything from The Lord of the Rings... (looks around at Tolkien's numerous descendents, all of whom look suitably mollified) Soooo, I guess I've learned not to try and claim the rights... Tolkien's descendants WILL attack!

AN:(Edited 5 April 2010) (sobs) I can't believe it! Over a year has gone by, and I am finally finishing this fic. That is absolutely amazing... I bet ya'll thought this day would never come! I thought it wouldn't either, as a matter of fact… wouldn't you know it… the last chappy, in the last seven paragraphs or so… I go and get writer's block! Well if that just doesn't take a slice of Estel's chocolate cake…

Well... I suppose I should let ya'll go and read the epilogue... I'll see you at the end... Bring tissues... for me!

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Three days had gone by since the Mirkwood elves had been freed from the influence of Luthien. They had spent those days regaining the strength they had lost while they had been trapped in the cells, and ridding their homes from the orcan bodies. All of the black blood was carefully scrubbed away, and as it disappeared, the spirits of the elves began to rise.

But there was one black cloud that refused to go away.

The question was on the lips of every elf in Mirkwood: where was Thranduil?

The last time any of them had seen their king had been before the attack. His disappearance sparked plenty of questions... with no one to answer them. They weren't even sure how they had been freed. Someone had to have killed the enchantress... but who? At first, many were of the opinion that Thranduil had somehow managed to escape from his cell and pull off a daring rescue. But they were quickly reminded that the king had been on the verge of fading... where would he have found the strength? And then the attention fell upon the two healers. It was well known that someonewas being tended to in one of the infirmary rooms, and all logic pointed to that someone being the elven king.

So, when everyone was invited to the great hall in the palace for a feast and a promised appearance by the king, excitement swept through the Firstborn. If possible, the whispers grew even more in intensity, as they speculated on what the king would reveal... and how Thranduil had survived.

That night, all of the elves in Mirkwood somehow managed to fit into the cleaned and gleaming hall. It was rather cramped, but the over-all effect was just what Thranduil desired. Everyone was all in one place, and they were truly enjoying themselves after their ordeal. The king watched his people from inside a doorway as they chattered and laughed, calling out to friends and making room for more.

At last, when everyone was present, and the room seemed as if it couldn't possibly hold another being, the elves turned their attention to where the king should have been seated. An expectant hush fell over the crowd, and Thranduil had to smile.

He left the relative safety of his doorway and stepped into the hall. Smiles broke out all over the hall as the elves caught sight of their king, alive and well. In fact, many noted in surprise, Thranduil looked better than he had in months. He made his way toward his seat, hampered by the sheer lack of floor space. When he had arrived, he turned and looked at all of the waiting elves, waiting, for an explanation or a speech.

"I am sure you are all wondering what has transpired in the last few days, and I am only too happy to reveal the answers." He paused for a moment, allowing the applause and happy murmurs to die down. And then he began to tell a tale of three mysterious elves and their great friend, all of whom remained nameless for the time being. One of the elves had been violently taken from his home by the enchantress and her following of orcs. The elf had endured captivity for months before escaping and being found by two brothers and their young human brother, although, not a brother by blood.

Thranduil continued in this vein for several minutes, weaving the tale of Legolas's and the sons of Elrond's adventures, and how they came to Mirkwood to help the elves trapped there... all with-out revealing the actual identity of the rescuers. By the time he finished, he had enthralled his audience to the point that they cheered at the part where Lúthien was killed.

The king paused to let the tale sink in, rather enjoying the whispering that spread across the hall. He had not told a story in a long time, not since Legolas was a small elfling who had trouble sleeping, and he was pleased with the results of his latest endeavors.

When at last the speakers were silent, he said, "You will be happy to know that all four of our rescuers survived. And they all, one in particular, would very much like to join us now. If I may..." Thranduil turned to the doorway through which he had entered and swept his arm out in an invitation. Estel appeared first, dark hair pulled back to reveal his already-striking grey-eyed features. "This is Estel Elrondion, foster son to Lord Elrond of Imladris. He is one of the four companions."

Estel received a thunderous applause and quite a few cheers as well. A blush began to work its way onto his cheeks and he bowed deeply to hide his pleased embarrassment.

Next to enter were the twins, comfortably dressed in their traveling garb, although they did not, of course, have their swords with them. They did not join Estel right away, instead pausing just outside the door and smiling impishly at the crowd. "Everyone should know Elladan and Elrohir Elrondion of course." The twins waved as they accepted the cheers, and if one looked close enough, one might see the faint flicker of embarrassment that crossed their features at the tremendous applause being sent in their direction. The noise died down just in time for everyone to hear Thranduil mumbling, "The recreant twin demons," which of course made everyone laugh.

"And finally, the last of the four... It is with great joy and unrivaled relief that I present Legolas Thranduilion."

Legolas appeared in the doorway, moving rather stiffly from the wound between his shoulder blades. The twins were quick to stand beside him, lest he lose his balance and fall. But he was smiling widely at the stunned populace of Mirkwood, blue eyes shining with mirth at the sight of the looks of pure astonishment on the faces of his people.

A low rumble of murmurs quickly grew into a great rush of noise and air as everyone surged to their feet, shouting at the same time. It hadn't crossed anyone's mind for a second that the elf in the story that had been taken from his home might be their very own prince. Only the stiffness with which Legolas moved reminded the elves that he had been injured, and therefore they had to restrain themselves from crowding around and reaching out in greeting.

The blonde prince made his way to his father's side, aided by the twins. Estel hovered close by, unsure of what to do next. He was used to the calm of the Imladris elves, who seemed much more stately and tranquil than the ones he found himself faced with now. He remembered someone telling him about the wood-elves that lived in Mirkwood, that they were more wild and less wise than their kin in Lorien and Rivendell. They were more rambunctious too, he thought as he was jostled forward by the crowd.

The twins certainly seemed to fit in, he thought, dropping heavily into one of the five empty chairs left in the room. He watched Legolas closely as the prince paused by his own chair and stood still, happily surveying the full room.

Suddenly, a clear note sounded and the hall fell silent. All of the elves knew the sound of a horn rarely meant good news. All eyes turned toward the large entrance arch. Estel followed the gazes of the elves and wondered what on Arda was going to happen now. Imagine the surprise of the Mirkwood residents as Elrond appeared, closely followed by fifty elves outfitted in supple armor, swords hanging comfortably at their sides.

The two groups stared at each other, each totally and completely baffled.

Elrond spied his sons and quickly scurried through the maze of tables and chairs to reach their sides. "You are well?" he cried incredulously. "When Iladri'on arrived and told us of the situation, we feared the worst!" He eyed the twins up and down, searching for some sign of injury. Elrohir shifted a bit, but he needn't have worried; his bandaged arm was concealed by the long sleeves of his shirt. Satisfied, the elven lord turned to Estel who had leaped to his feet upon seeing his father enter the room. Visions of unpleasant punishments began to flit through his head.

The young human seemed to shrink in upon himself as his eyes met his father's cool gaze. Every eye was upon them, and even those that did not completely understand the situation knew that Estel was going to get a large lecture. "You are in so much trouble."

"Oh Ada, can I just say how sorry I am and leave it at that?" Estel cried desperately. Something that sounded suspiciously like a snicker escaped Legolas's mouth. "Elladan and Elrohir have both given me lectures, twice each as a matter of fact, and each one was longer than the last! Elladan made me clean his sword and it was absolutely disgusting, my hands are stained black now, you see? And Elrohir had to be restrained from hanging me upside-down in the privy!"

Estel began to trail off as he realized that the elves around him were beginning to turn red from their efforts not to laugh. "Well, everything turned out all right didn't it? The enchantress is dead; we're all alive and for the most part uninjured. Legolas is back where he belongs... and um... well..." Here he rather lost his steam as he eyed his ada warily.

Elrond was staring at his foster son with a completely unreadable expression on his face. Estel bit his bottom lip and lowered his gaze. His hands stole behind his back as stealthily as a hobbit would sneak a cookie. A titter swept through the hall as the elves saw the young human adopting the infamous elfling scolding pose. And it certainly appeared as if he were about to receive a scolding.

The lord of Imladris took two steps forward and swept his son into a giant embrace. "Don't you ever do that to me again!" He mumbled into Estel's dark hair. "When I get over being relieved, we are going to have issues young man."

Thranduil stood and cleared his throat. "It is wonderful to have... guests... from Imladris. If you would like to try and... squeeze in, we are happy to have you. May I suggest that you leave your weapons in the entrance hall? We... don't particularly need sharp objects in such a crowded room."

Legolas fought back a smile; it was rare to see Thranduil so flustered. Fifty unexpected dinner guests armed to the teeth would throw almost anyone off their stride.

There was a great scraping as everyone scrambled to scoot their chair even closer to each other in order to make room for the new arrivals. Elves scurried about, fetching ever more chairs and wedging them into any open space. The Imladris elves cautiously edged into the seats as they opened up, armored torsos standing starkly out amongst the wood-elves' bright tunics.

Legolas managed to edge a little closer to Estel and whispered into the young human's ear, "You were brilliant, Estel." So sincere did the elf sound that Estel actually began to glance at Legolas's face to see if he was serious. "Until you opened your mouth." Estel scowled at Legolas, which elected a mirthful laugh from the elven prince.

The melodic bell-like sound cut through the chatter and every elf paused in their conversations to look at their prince. They had not heard that laughter for months. They hadn't thought that they would ever hear it again. Seeing their prince in the midst of a long laugh (the position that seemed to suit him most), was just the thing needed to strip away any nagging doubts any of them might have had. There was no mistaking that laughter!

Legolas calmed himself and placed a hand on Estel's shoulder. He then turned to look out into the hall, blue eyes brightly surveying his people once again. Sensing that some sort of speech was going to be expected, he cleared his throat and motioned for silence. It came quickly, for everyone was eager to hear the prince speak.

For an instant, the elf prince searched for words to express his feelings, and found none. He had just enough time to begin to panic before his natural instincts rose and filled in the gaps. He stepped forward (as much as he could before nearly running into a chair) and placed his right hand over his heart. Seconds later, the sound of his soft voice began to echo through the hall.

"It has been eight long months since I have last been home. And I have to admit that I am pleased by how little everything has changed. The trees are talking to each other, in high spirits because of the coming of summer. My Ada seems to be as temperamental as ever." This elected numerous chuckles from the elves, intensifying as they saw that Thranduil seemed to find it amusing as well.

"I must say, that if I had foreseen all that would happen, I would have disregarded it all as purely ridiculous. Imagine… everything has turned out this way because Mirkwood's Crown Prince decided that he wanted some time alone. I think that I will not be pulling any more 'escapes' for quite awhile.

"My 'death' as it were, must have come as a sincere shock to all of you, and I regret that you all had to go through an unneeded mourning period. I also would like there to be a short silence for the six elves that perished because of Lúthien's actions."

In accordance, all heads bowed, and remained thus until Legolas felt Estel begin to twitch in slight impatience. He realized that, to the human, time was beginning to pass rather slowly, so he decided just this once to take pity on the young human.

"My friends, I cannot begin to describe how wonderful it is to be home. This is precisely where I belong, and I don't intend to leave again for quite some time!"

Cheers broke out, and Legolas smiled. Talk began to spring up here and there, and goblets of fine wine were handed around.

"You certainly got them riled up, Legolas!" Elladan's voice sounded above the noise.

"I did nothing of the sort!" Legolas called back indignantly. "I know how to rile the elves of Mirkwood, and that is certainly not the way!"

He called to an elf who was playing a lute and the elf grinned, instantly shifting into the song that the prince desired. A rousing tune rose up, much to the delight of the elves, who knew precisely what was going to happen next.

Elladan and Elrohir turned to look at each other in dismay. A hand reached down and tapped each of them on the shoulders. They turned, dreading the sight they knew they would find. Legolas, perched atop a table, offered his hands to the twins in an open invitation. "This is how you get the Mirkwood elves riled up!" he called gleefully and pulled the twins up beside him.

Estel watched in amazement and delight as Legolas and the twins began to dance, the prince's stiffness momentarily forgotten. And then came the lyrics to the song, sung in three lovely tenors, one extremely cheerfully, the other two rather reluctant at first, though they picked it up by the second stanza…

"The Imladrisian red wine

is certainly more than just divine,

Hey hey!

"And yet it simply does not compare

To Lothlorien's taste, which curls the hair,

Hey hey.."

In the midst of the laughter and general happiness that followed, the blonde prince looked about in great satisfaction.

Legolas Greenleaf was finally home.

The End