Greenleaf and Imladris 5. Gwador: Sorrow's First Dawning by Eresse

Nénimë TA 1053

Legolas gazed upon the snow-covered gardens of the Last Homely House. He was standing on the porch overlooking the gardens, unmindful as any Elf of the crisp winter breeze that swirled around his slender form. In the distance, the cascades' roar had been reduced to a mere whisper as the rapids that fed the falls lay dormant, locked for the most part in the frozen embrace of ice. Consequently, only a lovely, lacy trickle remained of the cascades' usual turbulence.

Near noiseless footfalls marked the approach of the twins and Legolas beamed a welcome at the two as they flanked him. For a comfortable while, they too regarded the pristine landscape in silence.

"A silver piece for your thoughts, gwador," Elladan said at length.

Legolas' smile turned a little pensive. "I was just wondering...does Valinor have winter?" At the brethren's bemused expressions, he added: "My mother loved winter. She would be disappointed if she could not look forward to the joys of the season."

Elrohir had to smile at that. "Glorfindel has said that 'twas perpetual spring and summer in Aman when last he lived there before returning to Middle-earth," he commented. "But he also told us that the Powers have oft altered Valinor to suit the needs of our kindred. Who knows, mayhap they may choose to introduce the season of winter for the Elves who seek it."

"Mild winters, I hope," Elladan wryly commented. "I cannot fathom why anyone would look forward to cumbersome snowdrifts and ice-covered pathways that threaten everyone with a tumble or worse."

Legolas chuckled. "If Naneth loved this season, 'tis because father fell in love with her one winter."

"Did he now?"

"Aye, after she struck him with a fistful of snow."

"She did what?!" Elrohir gasped laughingly. "That was brave of her."

Legolas grinned. "Which is why Adar fell in love with her. She was the first and only Elf-maid not to be overly impressed by his title."

"How...romantic..." Elladan grimaced to the amusement of the others.

"Romance is in the eye of the beholder, gweniuar," Elrohir teasingly chided him. "You know that."

"Mayhap," Elladan said doubtfully. He glanced at Legolas curiously. "Spring will soon be here. What are your plans?"

The prince fell into thoughtful silence. Just the previous evening, Lord Elrond had declared him well enough to return to Greenwood. Since his horrific assault on Elrohir, there had been only one like incident to mar Rivendell's peace but it had not been as vicious an attack and the twins had successfully roused him from his unwitting violence. That had been the last of his regrettable outbursts.

Healing had come not only with the expression of his deep-seated feelings regarding his mother's death but also with his acceptance of what had happened and his ability to stop holding himself culpable for what had passed. In doing so, he had finally been able to mourn his mother in full and, with that, the terrible bouts of rage had ceased once and for all.

"I think I shall visit her grave as soon as I get home," he mused quietly. "I will place flowers upon it as I should have when we first laid her to rest, sing to her mayhap... grieve a little more." He sighed. "Spend time with Adar and Nimeithel and my brothers. We need each other, I realize that now."

"Then you are truly healed," Elrohir softly said.

Legolas smiled at his friend. Then his eyes clouded somewhat.

"What is wrong?"

"Not wrong. Only..." the archer bit his lip. "'Tis strange for I have been here far longer than I ever have before...yet I am loath to leave and forego your company." He looked from one brother to the other. "You took such good care of me that I know I will sorely miss your attentions. I will miss you."

Twin pairs of raven eyebrows rose in unison. With tender smiles, the brethren placed soothing hands on the prince's shoulders.

"We will miss you, too, Calenlass," Elrohir said. "But if fate smiles upon us, we will be reunited ere long."

"That will not be soon enough for me," Legolas sighed.

But he smiled nevertheless as each brother squeezed his shoulders consolingly. He was blessed to have won such inimitable affection and implacable loyalty. Twice blessed to have doubly won both. Come spring, he would be parted from them when the inevitable calls of princely duty and honor beckoned to them all but in their deep and abiding friendship he knew they could never be truly sundered. Not even if all the leagues of Middle-earth lay between them. In that thought he found the greatest comfort of all.
Chapter end notes: Nénimë - February
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