Eleina awoke some time later to the roar of cheering, clapping, and music playing in full force. She leapt out of bed to see that the sun had just begun to go down, casting warm shadows across the room through the high windows. How long had she slept? Had she already missed the homecoming? Why had nobody thought to wake her? Surely she was not unnecessary to her own husband’s homecoming!

With a huff of frustration, Eleina frowned at her appearance in the mirror. Her braid had loosened a bit during her sleep, and her dress was somewhat crumpled where she had lain on it, and there was a red mark on her cheek where she had rested it on her arm. There was no time for that now, though. He was back and that’s all that mattered. She splashed some cool water on her face from the basin beside the mirror, then turned and fled from the room.

The hallways of the palace were abandoned, since every soul in the kingdom had poured out into the forest to welcome home the hero and his comrade. Eleina darted through the silent corridors, up the grand staircase at the entrance to the Halls of Thranduil, and found herself at the very back of a very large, very loud crowd. Those leaping and cheering in front of her were far too enraptured in the welcoming, however, to notice her and her struggles to reach the front.

“Oh, let me through!” she yelled, but either no one heard her, or no one cared. With another growl, she took off to the side, leaping and stretching her neck to try and see over the throng of people separating her from the procession. This frustrating struggle continued for some time until they had reached the great pavilion in the upper courtyard, which had been decked out with all manner of brilliantly colored flowers. They had been imported specially for this occasion from the banks of the Anduin -not a far distance, but enough of a trip that such flowers meant a great deal.

Eleina could barely make out the top of Thranduil’s head as she shoved her way past. Something was being said and the crowd was clapping as the band settled down in order for spoken word to actually be heard. The crowd quieted down to hear what was being said and only then did Eleina manage to shove her way along the side to the front.

“Let me through!” she insisted again, just as a guard stepped into her path to block her. “NOW!”

Seeing who she was, the guard quickly muttered, “My apologies, my lady,” and leapt to the side, embarrassed at having been more a nuisance than any help. Finally, Eleina was free to step onto the pavilion, her hair loose from the braid and her skirts still wrinkled. Thranduil was facing her, which meant Legolas and his companion took no notice of her for several moments as the former answered some question of Thranduil’s. Thranduil saw her, though, and his grin broadened further.

“My son, it appears your blushing bride has chosen to join us after all!” he bellowed, throwing his arms wide, then motioning for Eleina to step forward. Legolas and Gimli both turned to either side as she stepped forward and . . .

What now? Standing before these two heroes, Eleina suddenly felt awkward and out of place. No one had told her how to handle this social situation. She had been taught that a wife should kiss her husband after his long absence. She had been taught that she should bow low and kiss the fingers of a hero after his return. But she had not been taught how to greet her husband who was now a hero after his long return.

Deciding Legolas was much more a hero than he would ever be her husband, Eleina bowed and bobbed her head, “My lords.”

Legolas hesitated, which gave Eleina a secret thrill. So he didn’t know how to gracefully handle the situation, either. Seeing her as she was now, and seeing him as he was now, neither felt they knew each other enough to even say their names. How –or even should Legolas introduce her to Gimli? As his wife? Simply as the lady of Mirkwood? Simply as a lady of Mirkwood?

Legolas’ faltering gave Eleina enough of a boost of confidence, however, to address both of them with the most proper greeting her mind could conjure, “Eryn Lasgalen welcomes both our heroes home. May the Valar be thanked for returning you both safely.”

“Now, we have a feast in your honor that your people have been preparing for the entire day,” Thanduil quickly rushed on, reaching in front of Eleina to place a hand on Legolas’ arm and turn him toward the hall.

Gimli bellowed with a roar of laughter, “Let us see what these feasts of your home are like, Master Elf!”

Legolas returned, with a far more reserved smoothness, “You heard what the Lady of Eryn Lasgalen spoke, Master Dwarf. This is as much your home now as it is mine.” Gimli laughed hard at that, already picturing the face of his father Gloin should he mention to him that he, Gimli, Gloin’s own son, had been welcomed “home” to an Elven kingdom.

When Eleina hesitated to follow, slightly wounded and yet a bit relieved to hear Legolas refer to her simply as “the Lady of Eryn Lasgalen”, Thranduil offered his arm and assured her, “It is good you made it, Eleina. I’m sure I was alone in noticing how ridiculous the two of you looked, as though you had never met before in your lives.”

Eleina argued in her own defense, “I have not met this Legolas. And I hardly know the Legolas I married, who is far different than the Legolas I played with as a girl.” She hoped Legolas wasn’t hearing any of this, but probably he was too intent on pointing things out to his friend Gimli to pay any attention to his stranger wife and curt father. Secrets were difficult to keep hidden in an Elven kingdom where a casual observer could hear whispered conversations for more distance than was desirable.

“Yes, Eleina, and you have not changed in the least?” Eleina glared at the biting criticism that Thranduil was well known for, then tilted her chin higher and chose to ignore his comment with grace and dignity. Sure she had changed . . . but Legolas had changed more!

The very hall that Eleina had been booted out of earlier was now almost unrecognizable. Buried somewhere beneath buckets of flowers and velvet drapes that had been cleaned for the first time in ages, Eleina took her seat to Thrandruil’s left, with Legolas to Thranduil’s right, and then the dwarf Gimli. She was surprised to see Thranduil allowing such a break with tradition. After all, etiquette rules required that if women were present, no two men and no two women sit next to each other. Of course, wives couldn’t sit with their husbands either, in which case she should have either been seated at a different table or between Gimli and Thranduil with Legolas on Thranduil’s other side, another lady between them. Perhaps Thranduil was simply too overjoyed to see his son to be bothered with such ancient traditions, though, or perhaps he was silently stewing and whoever had arranged the seating would get an earful later. All Eleina knew for now was that this head table seating arrangement meant she was effectively shut off from the conversation between Thranduil, Legolas, and Gimli except when Gimli occasionally bellowed loudly enough for the entire table to hear.

The food was good, as was to be expected. Eleina eavesdropped enough to hear Gimli concede that this was so, though he still maintained that Legolas would be far more impressed by the halls of his own father, where it sounded as though they were headed next. Thranduil made some comment along the lines of “leaving so soon?” and Eleina thought the same thing. Though they hadn’t specified when they would be departing again, Eleina felt her heart drop a little that Legolas already had another trip planned. What about his responsibilities here, to his own kingdom, that had gone unmanaged in his absence? What about his responsibilities to Eleina?

Eleina rose when the time called for it and followed the men into a sitting room, where she perched by the window as they gathered around the fire. Gimli smoked and, once joined by the head guard Amergin, an old friend of Legolas’, the four spoke of the only thing anyone could speak of lately: what was to become of Middle Earth now that the war was over? Before Legolas and Gimli were even asked of their travels, they were asked what they thought, in their expert opinions, would happen now.

In many ways, Eryn Lasgalen was nothing like its sister cities of Imladris and Lothlorien. To the weary and worn elves of Thranduil’s kingdom, the threat imposed by the dark forces of Sauron had been much more tangible. Since Sauron in his first attack on Middle Earth had built his satellite fortress at Dol Goldur, Mirkwood had been increasingly under the scrutiny of the dark lord’s eye. An already dangerous giant spider presence had been joined by the orcs of Sauron, and attacks were frequent. Things had settled down between Sauron’s defeat and his resurfacing, yet still the people of Thranduil had been driven further and further North until now, when they resided in halls at the very foot of the Misty Mountains.

As far as Eleina was concerned, they could stay where they were. The halls were built; the people were settled. From what she could gather of the four mens’ conversation, however, Thranduil had hopes of reclaiming the entire forest. With the threat of Sauron gone, Dol Goldur could be destroyed, the giant spiders chased out entirely, and his people could again roam freely through the forest without fear. Amergin applauded the idea, and even Gimli though it a sound plan, but Legolas looked hesitant.

At Thranduil’s pressing, he explained, “It seems most of the Elves are leaving, my lord.”

“Sailing West?”

“Yes.”

“Who?”

“Whom, I do not know for sure, for my concern has been chiefly with serving Aragorn and Mithrandir, and fighting in the fight for Middle Earth. But there has been talk between the Lady Galadriel and Lord Elrond.”

“There has,” Thranduil repeated, more a statement than a question. He seemed interested in this, and no doubt slightly injured. Eleina knew from her own experience that living in Mirkwood was living a life shut off from the outside world. Except for the occasional visitor sent on strict business –and these could be counted on one hand since she had been married– Mirkwood had very little contact with the outside world.

Mithrandir had visited in bringing the creature Gollum to be locked up a year before, right after the wedding of Eleina and Legolas. She remembered him showing up, this intimidating figure that Thranduil and Legolas seemed to know so well. He had handed over that grungy, shriveled creature to the men, andfrowned to her, “My apologies that I bring nothing well for your wedding, my lady. In fact, I may have brought you the worst gift a wife could dream of.” Of course, she had not understand at the time, but when the creature had escaped and Legolas had been among the first on its pursuit, she had wondered. When Legolas had suddenly risen from King’s son to trusted advisor because of his part in guarding and chasing the creature, she had begun to figure it out. When Legolas had left for Imladris “simply as the messenger” to tell Lord Elrond and Mithrandir that the creature had escaped, Eleina had known in her heart of hearts he would not be back any time soon. Possibly never.

Legolas had returned briefly, for less than a fortnight in November. A great council had taken place and it had been discovered that Sauron’s ring had been found and must now be destroyed lest all of Middle Earth fall to ruin. Thranduil had said nothing at first, but finally a heated conversation had roused Eleina from her night walking. She had watched, hidden in the darkened doorway, as father and son argued over whether or not such a fight was worth fighting. Legolas was going, no matter what his father said. Thranduil insisted he stay, that this was a fight for men, not elves, and that he had duties to his kingdom, his father, and his new wife.

“I’ve had enough of duties,” Legolas had shot back in the heat of the moment, then promptly walked out. He was gone before the sun rose, and Eleina never expected to see him again. Only once had she seen him so angry before; Legolas was usually cool and level-headed. At least he had been when they were younger. Never had he risen his voice to his father or questioned his father’s commands until now, and Eleina feared that even if he survived this war he felt so passionately about, Thranduil would not let him return.

But he had survived. And he had returned. And Thranduil had welcomed him with open arms, his son the hero, and even his dwarven friend. Of course, the elves of Mirkwood had never been quite so unfriendly with the dwarves as those of Lothlorien, or even Rivendell. At one point in time, the two had lived closely, side by side, and hence Thranduil’s halls of stone. It had been some time, though, since a dwarf had set foot in Mirkwood –longer than Eleina could remember.

Eleina studied Legolas from across the room, unobserved. His features had hardened a bit; he looked older, more mature, more experienced. All this she knew was true, yet it still didn’t sit right with her that while as a little girl she had known every muscle of his face and arms from their games together, now, as his wife, she knew none of them. She could hardly compare him to the Legolas of her memories, and perhaps that was where the great rift came. He was not the Legolas of her childhood, had no longer been the Legolas of her childhood when they had married, and so she really had married a stranger. Then, with him leaving for most of their first year together to fight a war that she had agreed with Thranduil was not of their concern, could she be blamed for their failed marriage? Certainly not, and she wished Thranduil would stop saying it was so.

A sudden fatigue seized control of Eleina and she for some privacy away from the low conversation and loud laughter of the men around the fire. She wasn’t a member of their party anyways and figured she wouldn’t be missed at any rate. Woe be to the lady of a kingdom of men, and most certainly a household of men.

Eleina had almost made it to the doorway when Amergin called over, “Retiring so early, Lady?”

“I’m afraid I’m quite exhausted from all the festivities,” she apologized. “If you don’t mind, my lords, I’ll retire early.” Thranduil and Legolas rose, as did Amergin, and Gimli quickly leapt from his chair, wishing to do his best in respecting the practices of the elves during his visit. Normally, and in the past, he wouldn’t have cared, but his meeting with Galadriel had given him a new-found respect for the elves. And besides that, this was Legolas’ family. Soon Legolas would be meeting his own family, and he hoped for similar respect from his companion.

Eleina hardly heard the good-nights tossed her way before stepping into the hall and breathing a sigh of relief. The smoke from Gimli’s pip had not been what clogged her lungs. Though her initial plan had been to actually sneak outside for a bit, maybe climb a tree and stare at the stars for a while before retiring, she realized in the stillness of the hallway just how tired she truly was. Her nap had not refreshed her as she had expected, but rather seemed to allow the fatigue to set in deeper, a fatigue from more than getting poor sleep the last few nights.

So with nothing to stand in her way, Eleina ambled to her room, stripped off her new dress, and was asleep before she could finish her own question, “I wonder if Legolas will sleep in here tonight?”

He did not.