Epilogue

Third Age 2510

Two white horses and their dark riders thundered up the narrow bridge onto the small eastern landing of the House of Imladris. Only the rushing Bruinen fifty feet below greeted them. There was no one to be seen or heard; everything was still and silent under the late summer sky.

They slipped off the hoods hiding their distinctive gold hair, the cloth masks concealing their fair faces. Since leaving the walls of the kingdom they had kept up their disguises. The woods and the mountains had become dangerous places for all.

"Find them," Thranduil said. "I will speak to Elrond."

Legolas nodded. He and his father took their separate ways at the top of the stairs. It had been centuries since Legolas had last wandered these halls. Still, he had to ignore the instinct that pulled him towards the infirmary and the sanctuary that he knew from long ago. He was not searching for the sick or the dying.

He listened for familiar voices, but there was not a sound in the whole of the valley, not even the wind. Legolas hesitated to call out, wary of breaking the total silence.

"Legolas."

He whipped around at the voice, reflexes sending his hand to the knife hilt over his shoulder, but the tension immediately left his body and he sighed with relief. Any distance that the passing of time might have created between them vanished and Legolas felt his heart swell to see his sworn brother. "Elladen."

The eldest son of Elrond and Celebrian stood in the shadow of a doorway, dressed in deep grey clothes that would have been fine but for how rumpled they were. His dark hair was tied back, but disheveled, and he was barefoot.

"Elladen," Legolas said again as he rushed up the hallway and pulled Elladen into a brief embrace. "I am so sorry."

Elladen wavered on his feet when Legolas pulled away from him. "I didn't… I didn't dare think that you would come."

"Of course I did." Legolas offered a smile and a steadying hand against Elladen's shoulder. "My father is here as well. Where is everyone?"

"Arwen has been in her room since we… came back. My father had been wandering the valley. I don't know where he is. And Elrohir—" Elladen's eyes grew wide and his voice cracked over his brother's name. "Elrohir joined the wardens in Lorien. He swore to shed blood for what happened. He didn't even say goodbye."

Legolas' eyes burned watching the tears fall down Elladen's face. He blinked hard while Elladen stared at the floor.

"Why don't we find something to eat and take it to Arwen?" Legolas said gently, though he was not certain Elladen could take even ten steps.

"I can't face her," Elladen said breathlessly.

"She's you sister. She needs you, Elladen."

"It's all my fault. I was too late to save my mother, and I wasn't even brave enough to take bloody vengeance for what was done to her. I can't face any of them." Elladen shrank away from Legolas and half-collapsed against the doorframe. "Go see Arwen."

"I'm not going to leave you, Elladen."

"I need to lie down. Go and I'll find you later. Thank you for coming all this way."

"Until later, then." Legolas watched Elladen shuffle away and disappear around a corner. He did not know where to start looking for Arwen's chambers. He followed corridors inside and outside. Finally he gave in to calling her name, but there was no response.

Legolas followed another hallway outside, taking comfort in the sunny afternoon. There was little shade from the slender trees; Legolas had forgotten that there were still golden woods filled with light and fresh air after a lifetime in the thick gloom of Mirkwood. Imladris was all beauty, all delicate arches and peaceful walkways. He remembered wondering if he would even find Imladris beautiful, after what had happened to him there. Twelve hundred years had nearly done it, but seeing the anguished ruin of Elladen's face had struck a fragile part of him like a hammer against glass.

The murmur of the Bruinen grew louder as Legolas circled back towards it. He descended a small flight of stone steps, though he was sure he would have to turn around to find a way back into the house. This had to be the edge, nothing but one domed pavilion gazing over the cliffs and down to the river.

A pavilion holding a woman wrapped in dark clothes.

"Arwen!"

She turned at her name and pressed a hand over her mouth when she saw him. She pulled his arms, his clothes as he ran up to her, clutching him tight to her, quivering in his embrace, but making no sound.

"Arwen, I'm so sorry. Tell me what I can do."

She shook her head against his shoulder. The dark veil she wore slid down her hair, revealing it to be jaggedly cut and only as long as her chin. Legolas laid a hand against her bare neck.

"Arwen, talk to me," Legolas said gently once her trembling began to lessen. He kissed her temple and waited until she finally loosened her hold on him.

"My mother is gone," she said, casting her wide grey eyes out over the edge of the cliff.

"I know."

Arwen pulled away and moved to the far side of the pavilion. She picked up a heavy grey shawl that lay on the bench and held it up to her face, breathing deeply.

"Is there anywhere safe for us to run away to, Legolas? If my mother can be abducted and tortured and your mother can be killed in bloodshed, what hope is there for us?"

"Perhaps it is our duty to fight for a new peace, as out mothers did in the age before us," Legolas replied.

Arwen shook her head. "I cannot fight for anything. I can hardly even breathe."

"Not today," Legolas said, coming to stand beside her. "But I promise there will come a day when it doesn't hurt like this."

"I can't see beyond nightfall. Beyond a time where my father is inconsolable, Elladen isn't speaking to me, and Elrohir is gone. How did you do it, Legolas? How did you do this alone?"

"I didn't," he said, wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "I had you."

That only renewed Arwen's tears. She buried her face in her mother's shawl to stifle her weeping.

"I'm here for as long as you need me, nîth-nín."

Arwen nestled against him, leaning heavier on him by the moment.

"Why don't you lie down for a while? You're exhausted."

"I have terrible dreams."

"I'll keep them away." Legolas coaxed Arwen to lie down on the bench, making a pillow of her mother's shawl on his lap. She curled up and was soon comfortable. She closed her eyes as Legolas stroked her short hair and softly hummed. She did not stir or whimper so long as her brother guarded her.

Thranduil suspected that he would find Elrond far from the house, far from any other soul, so he was not surprised when he found him at the top of the bell tower in the buildings on the other side of the footbridge. But nothing could prepare him for the sight of the Lord of Imladris brought so low.

Elrond was on his knees, one arm anchoring him to a narrow pillar as he stared out into the west.

"It was an impossible decision to put before a young man," Elrond said, his voice broken. He gave no other sign of noticing Thranduil's quiet entrance. "I knew nothing about the true meaning of immortality. All I saw was strength and invincibility, a life free of plague and pain. I watched my brother die of old age, and his children after him, and when I realized that the broken heart in my chest would be the only one I would have for the rest of my Valar-given life, I could not help but feel that Elros had made the wiser choice.

"But I learned to accept that mortals die, and that war makes mortals of us all. I learned that I could honour that sacrifice and loss by rebuilding peace once the battle was over. It gave me solace, and the peace that I had committed myself to brought me a wife and three beautiful children.

"Millenia of war and fear, and hope and prosperity, so that one day Celebrian could be taken and tormented and brought back to me to prove that I have learned nothing at all. There was nothing I could do to make her whole again, to make her stay. How do my children go on in this world when they lost their mother to hopelessness. How do I…"

Thranduil sat down beside Elrond, his back to another pillar, one leg hanging over the edge of the tower. "None of them wanted to go with her?"

"They all agreed that they wanted to stay with me." Elrond waved a hand over his eyes and wept.

Thranduil looked out at the golden sky, imagining the glimmer of the sea and feeling the stir of an ancient, urgent pain in his breast.

"I should have made them go," Elrond said. "There is nothing here for them but violence and darkness."

"Once all of that has passed and the world is new again, the peace will belong to them, Elrond," Thranduil said. "They will share Celebrian's kindness and wisdom with the world."

Elrond's tears only fell faster.

"Did you get to tell her that you loved her?" Thranduil asked.

"Yes."

"Then you did everything that was in your power to do. That's more than what many people get, mortal and immortal alike."

"But your wife was taken from you," Elrond said, his voice low. "My wife left."

Thranduil looked sharply back at Elrond and saw him press a shaking hand against his mouth.

"I didn't mean…"

"Of course not," Thranduil said, hoping he appeared still and steady while Elrond's words still resounded inside him.

Elrond did not speak again while they watched the sun go down. Darkness would fall, but the dawn would come. It would feel like a lifetime to the grieving hearts in Imladris and Lorien, and the frantically beating hearts of those fighting the evil in Mirkwood. It would feel like the darkness was eternal, but the dawn would come.

A/N: I want to thank everyone who took time to read and review and favourite this little work of mine. It was meant to be four-part story written in the month leading up to my birthday, but it quickly took on a life of its own. Fanfiction has been close to my heart for a long time, and I never stopped imagining new stories on top of stories I already knew, even when I moved on to original work. I'll confess that I was looking for a little positive feedback after years of keeping my writing mostly hidden away. My return to the great community here really brightened my spirits and sparked my creativity in that boundless, shameless way that I remembered from years ago. I don't know how much work you'll see from me in the future, but I have taken all of your positivity with me into my other projects, and for that I am eternally grateful. Yours, A.