Translation of Elvish: Ada - father. Mae govannen - well met. Calen Glad - Greenwood; Elvish name of Mirkwood. Anor - the sun. Arda - Middle-Earth. Estel - hope; Elvish name of Aragorn.

Chapter 12 - The Ultimate Sacrifice

Legolas sighed relieved. Never had he been so glad to hear the soft murmur of the Bruinen. Ten days they had journeyed, and with every passing day, the Elven Prince had grown more and more restless. Haldir had fallen quiet as soon as they had left the Caverns, and would only answer if someone put a question to him. His hair had lost all of its usual silvery gleam and now seemed dead and dull. And those expressive indigo eyes; there was no life in them anymore.

Why had Éowyn not realised the change in her beloved? Only last night his hope had been kindled anew when the Shield-maiden had approached the place where he and Haldir were sitting by the fire. But all she had said was that she had forgotten to tell him that Aragorn was waiting for him at Imladris. She had not even looked at the March Warden. When she was gone, Haldir's eyes appeared to be burning with unshed tears, and Legolas was close to calling Éowyn back and showing her just what she was doing to his friend.

As he saw the evening sun mirrored in the many windows of the Last Homely House, the Mirkwood Prince felt a burden being lifted from his slender shoulders. Elrond would help them, would bring them back together. He had to! And he himself would finally be with his bonded again. His heart leapt at the prospect of seeing Aragorn in only a few moments after such a long time they had spent apart. And for the first time in days he smiled, thinking of holding and being held, of his lover's gentle voice whispering to him...

"You will have to introduce me to him, Ion." Thranduil had suddenly appeared by Legolas' side and smiled at him. Sometimes, it was still hard for Legolas to believe that the warm and kind elf currently riding next to him was the same as the cold and hurtful ruler of Mirkwood he had known for so many years. "If it were not for him, I might have lost you when I..."

"That is in the past, Ada. Let us look to the future." Turning back, he saw Éowyn just crossing the narrow bridge over the river. Haldir was, as had become his custom, the last of the riders. "But for the time being, let us do our utmost possible to help our friends..."

---

When the messenger had informed Elrond of the approach of his guests, he called together half of Imladris to welcome them. So now a great host had gathered in the main courtyard of the Last Homely House, eagerly anticipating the arrival of the small company of riders. Especially one amongst them was anxiously expecting one of the visitors.

Aragorn stood between his foster brothers, no longer wearing the robes of the King of Gondor and Anor, but his old ranger clothes. He still felt more comfortable in them, particularly here in his childhood home. His hands grasped the hem of his tunic, knuckles white with strain. His gaze kept shifting between the ground at his feet and the gateway through which the company would come any minute now.

Luckily, neither of the twins felt like teasing him because of his nervousness at the moment. Elladan was speaking quite heatedly with his sister. Arwen was angered for one reason or other and let the elder twin know her opinion in no uncertain terms. Elrohir, on the other hand, was straitening Lord Glorfindel's robes for the fifth time in as many minutes, giving his lover a genuine smile. Both had looked rather dishevelled when they had appeared for breakfast, and Aragorn couldn't help himself, he envied them and wondered if he would ever feel such happiness again, once Legolas learned the truth about the Queen's condition.

Elrond cleared his throat and brought Aragorn out of his musings. His foster father seemed to be strained to no end, and when the King of Men saw the gentle caress Lord Erestor bestowed upon the Lord of Imladris, a smile formed upon his face. Those two had been destined to be together, and everyone around them had known for ages. Apparently, Arwen's attempts to meddle in things that were none of her concern had finally paid of.

Here and now, in the fading light of the day, the two Elven Lords stood side by side as two equals. It must have taken Elrond hours to get Erestor to wear the mithril circlet that was the twin of Elrond's. The Advisor was obviously still reluctant to believe that his life had truly changed for the better, and his deepest wish had come reality. But Elrond would have none of that. Once he had made up his mind about something, which, according to some inhabitants of Imladris could take ages, he would do everything in his power to see it through. Poor Erestor did not really stand a chance...

The sound of hooves made everything else around Aragorn fade into unimportance. And when he saw the first rider enter the courtyard, it was all he could do not to run up to his beloved. Legolas was radiating a happiness the King had never witnessed in him before. And the reason for it was apparently the elf riding beside him. His father, Thranduil.

He hardly saw the rest of the company until his eyes fell upon Éowyn. Only once had he seen her so pale and forlorn. That day at Helm's Deep when she had first learned about his relationship with the Mirkwood Prince. And Haldir didn't look any better. Quite the contrary. Before he could ponder the thought any more, strong hands closed about his shoulders, and deep blue eyes met his. "Legolas," he whispered softly, "it's been too long..."

Meanwhile, Elrond had approached Thranduil and was now bowing his head in greeting. "Mae govannen, Thranduil," it was not Elrond's voice, but Erestor's rich baritone that welcomed the ruler of Calen Glad. Turning towards Legolas, the Advisor added, "We have eagerly expected your arrival. Well, one especially as you can see..."

---

Éowyn had also dismounted and was slowly walking up to the small group that had formed around Aragorn and Legolas. There stood Lord Elrond and Thranduil, the Mirkwood King beckoning her to join them. Aragorn and Legolas seemed oblivious of the world around them and only had eyes for each other. And another dark-haired elf was there with them. Now joining Elrond and Thranduil in conversation. That must be Lord Erestor, the one responsible for Elrond's changed attitude towards his wife's lover.

Unfortunately, she had not paid attention to the other occupants of the courtyard and so, after taking but a few steps; she was stopped by two strong arms embracing her from behind. For one fleeting moment her heart leapt. 'Haldir,' a voice within her whispered. No matter what had happened between them ... if the proud elf made the first step, she would gladly forgive him. By now, and thanks to her daily conversations with Thranduil, she had realised that it was Haldir's jealousy that had called her a...

Turning in the embrace, a smile on her lips, she found herself face to face not with Haldir, but some seemingly quite disturbed elf. "It is her. Look here, Elrohir." Azure eyes met her gaze, and she was drawn closer to the elf's chest. When he finally let go, he put a hand under her chin, raising her head to his, "You are the Wraith Slayer, right? Told you so. 'Not by the hands of men...'"

Shocked, Éowyn gazed at the elf, who still held her by her shoulders. Before she could give voice to her thoughts, however, a voice was raised behind her, "Ada, Glorfindel is scaring one of our guests!" Next to the blond elf, two identical faces appeared. One of the two was grinning madly while the other pouted. "You are such a spoilsport, Elladan."

"My Lord Glorfindel," Elrond's voice came from her right. "Would you please stop harassing our guests?" More quietly he added, "What in Elbereth's name have you taken to forget your manners like this?" One of the ... they must be the twins, Legolas had mentioned to her ... was studying his fingers and said nonchalantly, "Me." Elrond's face turned crimson as he turned towards the speaker, "Elrohir!"

Glorfindel let go of Éowyn and leaned against Elrohir, chuckling. The sparkle in the azure eyes and the rich sounds coming from the Balrog Slayer's throat were infectious, and the Shield-maiden could barely contain the first laughter that had threatened to spill forth from her mouth in many a day.

"I do not quite see what is so funny," Elrond went on, and Glorfindel, swallowing down another giggle, answered, "Sorry my Lord ... Ada." Elrohir, who had so far managed to maintain a rather haughty expression, burst into laughter at the last word. A familiar presence on her left made Éowyn focus on Thranduil. "Welcome to fair Imladris, dearest Éowyn," the King beamed down at her.

---

No one saw Haldir, standing only a few yards away, his eyes glued upon the fair maiden. 'She is happy without you. It is for the best. Leave her be.' Slowly he ascended the front steps and turned towards the chambers that had always served as his home away from home. Had he turned around for just one moment, his eyes would have met sparkling blue, now once more filling with sorrow.

Éowyn had noticed a movement from the corner of her eyes and had seen Haldir move into the main building of Imladris. The laughter died inside of her and a chill spread through her whole body. He was walking away from her, not even looking at her for one second. So this really was the end. Leaning against Thranduil she whispered, "I'm so tired. Would it be awfully impolite to ask where we are to stay?"

Elrond had caught her last words, and now bowed to her, "Forgive us, my Lady. You must be weary from your journey." Turning towards his still laughing son, he all but commanded him to lead Thranduil and Éowyn to their chambers. When Glorfindel was about to join them, the Lord of Imladris halted him, "No, I still need to speak to you about some things..."

---

Ten days had passed and Haldir could feel his energy seep out of him as if he was but a sponge being drained of water. No one seemed to pay much attention to him, and he welcomed the loneliness into his life, knowing it would not last much longer. Legolas was busy spending time with his bonded and Thranduil, first introducing the two most important men in his life to one another, and then doing his best to get them to know the other.

Éowyn, in those rare moments he saw his beloved now, was always accompanied by either Arwen or Lord Glorfindel and Elrohir. The Balrog Slayer seemed to have grown rather fond of the Shield-maiden and would question her for hours about her fight with the Lord of the Nazgûl. And Arwen had found a friend in the Rohirrim it seemed. She looked happy, almost as carefree as she had been in Lothlórien. His heart clenched in his chest every time the memories of those days haunted him. Was she remembering as well? Did she recall the times they had spend in their small glade, the moments of passion that seemed to last eternally? Probably not.

Once again did his gaze fall on his twin daggers, now lying on top of a small chest in his room. They had marked the end of his life, had made Éowyn shrink from him and had planted fear into her heart. Fear of him.

At least he would never hurt her again now that his existence was drawing to an end. He would not burden her with his incapability of doing things right. Had he been able to, he would have died that night at Helm's Deep. But that failure was at least one he could correct. And would...

Gazing into the mirror, it was hard for him to tell who this pale, almost undead-looking elf was that stared back at him with dull eyes. Greying hair fell over thinning shoulders, clothes no longer fitting. Sighing deeply, he opened the door to the corridor and slowly made his way towards the main entrance. It was still very early and only a few elves were moving around the house. No one was to see him. How could he force anyone to endure him in this state?

Anor was rising and bathed the courtyard in golden light when the Lórien elf stepped outside. Turning towards the gardens, the sound of hooves made him stop in his tracks. The rider was getting closer and closer, was next to him and as he raised his head to see who it was, he only barely heard an angrily whispered, "Just the one I was longing to meet," before a hand came down onto his jaw.

Tumbling back, Haldir hardly managed to regain his breath and notice the face of Éomer of Rohan before another blow hit him square in the chest. Stumbling backwards, he tripped over a root and lost his footing. Raising his arms in front of his face, he did not see, but felt the booted foot kick him in his stomach. A hand closed about his neck, shaking him until his eyes locked with the King of Rohan's.

"You will pay for what you have done to her! To my sister! I will not stand by seeing her fall apart because of the likes of you! I was wary of you from the first moment on, when you set foot on the battlements of Helm's Deep. But I thought I might be mistaken. I was not! You brought naught to hear but misery! I'm sure I can find a way to repay you your generosity!" The last words were spat out and Éomer already raised his other fist to deal out another blow.

But it never came. A tiny hand closed about the strong arm, and an equally small fist collided with Éomer's nose. "What do you think you are doing? Are you so dumb that you mistake Haldir for a punchbag? How dare you?" It was Arwen. Blue eyes raining fiery sparks at the human king, surprisingly strong arms drawing him away from the March Warden.

"Let go of me, you insane fury! Show some respect to a..." Interrupting him, Arwen commented dryly, "What, to the greatest fool ever to walk Arda? Sorry, but that would be Isildur. I am just so glad that Estel has not inherited his idiocy. Are you sure you are not related to the Númenóreans, King Éomer of Rohan?"

So she knew who he was and still... "I will not stand here and let you insult me like this." Was he delusional or did he just hear a whispered 'Estel never had a problem with it...' Enraged, Éomer continued, "I came to avenge my sister and to take her home!"

---

Nothing else, he heard nothing of the heated conversation after those words. 'Take her home.' Away from him. He squeezed his eyes shut against the tears that threatened to spill from them. Éomer had come to rescue his sister, to take her from Haldir, forever. And he had every right to do so. He would protect her, something that her lover had failed to do.

Pulling himself to his feet, he limped to the garden gate, unbeknownst to the arguing couple. His chest ached with every breath he forced into his lungs. So Éomer had apparently broken one of his ribs. But it was of no importance anymore. Not if the ache in his heart was almost undoing him. Now it was final. He had lost the only person he had ever been able to love more than life itself.

Finding a large rock next to a rivulet, he sat down, resting his back against the stone. Yes, he loved her more that his own sorry life. And now he would sacrifice himself to enable her to be happy again. There was nothing else he could do for her anymore...

---

"That they allowed someone as childish as you to become King is beyond me! Are you blind? He is suffering just as much as your precious sister, if not more." Turning towards the place where Haldir had lain, she gasped. "Just perfect, because of you he is gone now and Elbereth knows where to."

"It seems that your friendship doesn't include watching over him, does it. Or else you wouldn't have lost him!" How dare this little girl tell him what to do? She might be Lord Elrond's daughter, but he was King of Rohan. "Anyway, I think you have no idea, how Éowyn feels. Do you know what your precious friend called her? She loved him so much that she left her home for him. And that's he way of thanking her for it!"

Arwen had not really listened to him, but was searching the yard for something that could serve as a hint to Haldir's current location. "We have to find him before..."

"I will not search for the bastard who hurt my sister like that. No thank you!" Éomer was surprised to see that the anger the elf-maiden had displayed until now could be increased still. "You have no idea of anything. He is fading, dying! Imagine what that would mean to your sister. I have talked to her, have listened to her. And it is obvious that she is still in love with him, more than she knows herself. A bond has been formed between them. Do you know what that means?" How stupid could one be? Even if one was human!

"I don't believe you. But that would mean that if he dies..." Éowyn would very likely follow him. Why hadn't she mentioned that tiny little fact in her letter? Gazing at the dark-haired she-elf, he whispered, "Lead the way..."