[Not long after, The Dwelling of the King of the Great Forest, known in this age as Mirkwood]
Silence reigned over the darkness of the mighty forest, the memories of Thranduil's vociferous argument of a few hours before finally faded from the ears, if not the memories, of its citizens. The Lady Aduial, Queen of the kingdom of the Green Elves, watched the heavens in silence, her equally lovely daughter and elder child observing the same tableau in a rapt silence of awe. Her free-spirited daughter had been the cause of her husband's latest angered tirade. Minuial was so very much like her, in both face and temperament, except that she had, in addition, her father's unwavering streak of stubbornness, to the great consternation of all. After reaching her majority only a few decades into the Third Age, Minuial had successfully resisted each of her father's attempts at arranging a 'suitable marriage' for her, and this time was no exception. She had succeeded in creating such a delay that the suitor's family had finally retracted their offer, seeking instead a 'less complicated' match.
She will find love in her own time, and in her own way, Aduial silently mused. For now, let her enjoy the forest, and her family, unfettered by the bonds of marriage. There would be plenty of time in the future for duty and a family of her own. When that day finally came, it would mean the end of precious nights such as like this, spent with just the two of them sitting carefree upon the carpet of moss on the hummock just outside the palace gates lazily gazing skyward. "'Tis sad to see Elbereth's handiwork tumble from the sky," Aduial forlornly sighed at the sight of a green-gold meteor plummeting ground-ward.
Smiling, her daughter slid one slender hand into hers and squeezed tightly. "But such a vision is a gift from the Lady herself! Tumelleth told me once that the Night of the Taltel is simply the Great Lady's way of replacing the old with the new. That is why the stars never grow tired and dim."
Aduial returned Minuial's loving smile, her free hand tenderly brushing back a free-spirited wisp of golden hair from the delicate features of her daughter's face. "What other stories of the stars did your nursemaid entertain you with in your childhood?"
"She told me that a child conceived on such a night is a special gift from Elbereth -- and will be born with the beauty and fire of the starlight."
Chuckling lyrically, Aduial shifted in her elegant robes against the curve of the gentle hillside, tucking her legs under herself. "Tumelleth has become even more hopelessly romantic and foolish with the passing of this age."
Minuial rose to her feet, slid her hand from her mother's and pressed an affectionate kiss upon the crown of her mother's golden-haired head. "I hope to become as romantic as her, one day," she pronounced, twirling around in the barefoot, tip-toed steps of a blithe dance, her hands and her gaze raised skyward.
"Be careful what you wish for, my child. You can never know which wishes the Valar will deem to grant," Aduial gently warned, the hint of a smile never leaving her face. Her smile brightened, then turned bittersweet as she watched her daughter leave on light-footed steps, her diaphanous silver gown flowing behind her in the gentle evening breeze like the sail of a great ship. Minuial had her own secrets, her own special spots to think and watch and wonder about the world. Aduial never revealed to her daughter that she knew of her secret place, upon the narrow ledge which overlooked the palace caverns, instead feigning ignorance in the name of motherly restraint.
After but the shortest passing of time, a strangely loud huffed breath could be heard from behind her, signaling the arrival of her husband from his equally private brooding. Aduial gracefully rose to her feet, meeting her much-beloved mate with a loose embrace around his waist. "Our daughter will never be bound to one suited to her station," Thranduil swore in grumbled exasperation, as Aduial merely smiled sweetly and soothed his worry-furrowed brow.
"If it is the Valar's wish, love will come to her, but in its own time," Aduial lightly hinted. Thranduil's scowl deepened, the furrows in his high forehead deepening to rival the boom of his earlier verbal exhortations. "It is not love which concerns me, but a suitable husband."
Aduial tightened her encircling embrace of her husband's richly robed frame and properly chastised him, with the characteristic gentleness of her ways. "Is that how you felt when you asked my father for permission to take me as your wife?"
With a deep chuckle, Thranduil enveloped his wife in his own embrace and sensuously ran his lips along the pale smoothness of her forehead. "Let me show you how I felt --that night and every other, since you became as much a part of me as my bow arm." With that he claimed his wife's mouth as his most precious treasure.
Aduial melted into the familiar taste and touch with a tremble of anticipation. It had been far too long since the fire of passion had taken the place of the heat of politics in their lives.
After a lingering moment of reacquainting kisses, Thranduil slipped from his wife's ardent embrace, and without a word took her hand in his, leading her back toward their private chambers with a mischievous smile upon his lips.
Aduial followed eagerly, easily keeping step with her husband's rushed gait, and before entering the stone gated entrance to their subterranean palace, dared one final glance skyward to the Lady's artistry. As her eyes beheld once more the bejeweled velvet tapestry of night, she watched in awe as a brilliant golden fireball, brighter than Earendil himself, sailed eastward from the sapphire fires of Luinil and exploded in a twinkling shower of glittering sun-hued gems. With a knowing smile of prescience upon her face, she allowed herself to be gently drawn through the doorway and without delay to the bedroom they had shared for all of this age, and enjoyed a night of well-experienced tenderness, deeply abiding love, and breathless passion she had not known since the conception of her younger child, her husband's son and heir.
[One year later]
The royal family of Mirkwood and the King's closest advisors stood gathered around the birthing bed, welcoming the newest member of the palace with excited chatter and beaming smiles.
Thranduil looked on in pride beside the headboard as his wife cradled their newborn son in her arms, their full-grown children by his side. "He is beautiful, Mother," Minuial sang out in her joy, gently running a fingertip along the top of the infant's forehead. "Look how the very light of Anor shines in his face, as well as in his hair." With the greatest care, she brushed back the soft, silky tendrils of hair carelessly cascading from the child's tiny head.
Brethilas sniffed in feigned ambivalence, controlling his enthusiasm for his newly born brother as he felt befit his station as crown prince of the realm. "He looks like any other elf child, Sister. Tiny and helpless."
"Your sister speaks the truth," Aduial cooed, staring at the precious package of silk swaddled wonder she cradled in her arms. "He is far lovelier than any ordinary babe of the wood." Sensing the inception of insult in her elder son's bristling posture, she raised her gaze to meet his and smiled. "As are all my children."
"He is, indeed, the fairest newcomer to the forest this spring," Thranduil proudly pronounced. "And its most precious." Lowering a hand to his new son's head, he raised his voice and pronounced to all assembled, "I name my son Legolas -- the most fair green leaf of the forest!"
Thranduil's counselors bowed reverently at their new prince and muttered a chorus of thanks to the Valar for granting their king another son. A secretive hint of a smile twitched the queen's lips just before they lowered to her son's forehead and pressed a knowing kiss of silent conspiracy to his perfect skin.
The following hour found Aduial finally alone with her newborn child, her son's stomach filled with its first meal, his keen sapphire eyes equally full of earnest wonder and a curious, ethereal light which rivaled Helluin in its startling clarity and intensity. "My husband would name you for the green of the forest he so loves," she whispered lovingly, so low that not even the nursemaids busily fussing in the antechamber beyond could possibly hear. "But I look upon your face and see naught but the very light of the stars, and the sun, intertwined and blessed by the Valar, themselves." It was a tradition among some of the Eldar race for mothers to grace upon their children a second name, but her husband had strictly forbade it with her elder children, thinking it a custom for the kinslayers and their kin alone. She had respected his wishes twice before, but now she found she could not halt the song of her heart, the wisdom of the dreams which had come to her repeatedly during the months her son had grown strong and beautiful in her womb.
"It will be our secret, my precious one, that none shall know. I will name you now, as my heart tells me I must, and yet I shall never utter the name again, not even to you alone. Yet I will think of you always thus in my heart, not as Greenleaf, but as the golden starlight I know you to truly be. You are truthfully a gift from the Lady, and my hopes and dreams ever dwell in you." Smiling, she pressed a consecrating kiss upon her son's head, then nuzzled her cheek against the fine strands of purest gold which adorned it.
"Forever you are to me Malel-galad -- my golden starlight. May you one day bring the light of love and hope to the heart of another, as you do to me, this day, and for the rest of my days."
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The Folly of Starlight 7. Tatel by AC
Chapter end notes: 1) The title means "falling star." The date of the story is April 21 on the Elvish calendar, the peak of the Lyrid meteor shower. This is the oldest meteor shower yet documented (with records going back to at least the 7th century B.C.) This shower has a sharp peak on April 21-2 and meteors are only visible for a day or two before or after peak, making it unusually narrow in duration. In an average year only 10-15 meteors may be seen an maximum, but the Lyrids have produced some surprising outbursts, including distinctive fireballs (meteors brighter than Venus) which can leave ghostly trails behind. For more on the Lyrids, see http://comets.amsmeteors.org/meteors/showers/lyrids.html .
2) According to canon, Celebrian was wounded by the orcs in TA 2509 and sailed west the following year. See the notes to "Misunderstood" for more on Celebrian's fate (both in canon and in my fanfic) as well as Elrond's remembrances of the stranger (Olorin in disguise): [http://www.ithilas.com/fos/misunderstood.html]
3) In "Images and Words" it was established that Legolas was born circa 2510 in my universe. It turned out to actually be 2511 - so sue me!
4) I am using the tentative identification of Soronume with Aquila and Luinil with Vega. See http://www.astrochick.com/stars.html for discussion on the stars and constellations of Middle-earth.
5) According to "The Shibboleth of Feanor" ["The Peoples of Middle-earth": 339], "The Eldar in Valinor had as a rule two names, or essi. The first-given was the father-name, received at birth. It usually recalled the father's name, resembling it in sense or form; sometimes it was simply the father's name, to which some distinguishing prefix in the case of a son might be added later when the child was full-grown. The mother-name was given later, often some years later, by the mother; but sometimes it was given soon after birth. For the mothers of the Eldar were gifted with deep insight into their children's characters and abilities, and many had also the gift of prophetic foresight." I have extended this tradition to the Eldar in Middle-earth, such as Thranduil and Elrond. Legolas' mother was a wood elf (at least in my universe), but if she felt strongly about a mother-name for her child I believe she would gladly embrace the tradition of her husband in this manner.
6) Legolas' sister was named Minuial -- morning twilight. His mom is Aduial -- evening twilight. This is in keeping with the tradition above that the children can be named after the parents in some form.
7) Also from "Morgoth's Ring," elf children are born basically a year to the day after their conception.
8) Just an additional clarification -- three readers have asked point blank if Legolas is Gil-galad's reincarnation. The answer is a resounding NO! That would clearly violate canon. Besides, I have other plans for the High King .
