Epilogue

Dawn came slowly across the tops of the trees, filtering light gold and green. Spring had come once again to Eryn Lasgalen. There was something in the air, a quickening vibrance which had the tiny saplings on the southern edge of the forest shooting up at twice as fast. The fire last year cleared much of the undergrowth, the spiders' webs, the rotting damaged trees, and now the forest was awash in new growth, new life abundant. The Elvenking's halls were no exception.

Seldom had the kingdom of the Woodland Realm been in such an uproar. Of course, there had been that time with the dwarves' escape, but no one liked to acknowledge that unfortunate incident. Early in the dark hours of the morning, a faint cry followed by a much louder one broke the silence of the Elvenking's halls, and a flurry of excited whispers raced from mouth to ear to mouth to ear that King Thranduil and Queen Narylfiel had welcomed a baby girl into the royal family.

Among the first in line to visit the new princess was her brother, Prince Legolas and his wife, proudly bearing their own new addition to the line of Oropher, a handsome young princeling.

When finally allowed admittance by a most formidable Huredhiel who solemnly warned the prince that this would be a brief visit as both mother and child needed to rest, Legolas and Thaliniel quietly opened the door to see Narylfiel in bed holding a silky blanketed bundle and Thranduil standing to the side, looking down with immense satisfaction.

Thaliniel was all smiles. "Narylfiel, you should have sent for me," she chided softly.

"And disrupt your few precious hours of sleep? Don't be silly."

She's beautiful." Legolas declared as he carefully picked up the baby. "Looks like our bloodline still runs strong, Father. Beautiful fair hair and blue eyes. I can't see a bit of you in her, Narylfiel," he teased.

"What are you naming her?" Thaliniel wanted to know.

Narylfiel and Thranduil shared a glance. "Lithôniel."

Legolas looked up with a smile. "That was my grandmother's name."

Thaliniel looked down at the bundle in her arms. "Did you hear that?" she asked her baby who looked on with wide eyes. "Lithôniel," she repeated. "The name of your new best friend."

"And aunt," added Legolas cheerfully.

Narylfiel bit her lip. "Or cousin?"

"Aunt-Cousin?" Legolas tried the words out and shook his head. "Poor kids. It's completely confusing to me, and I've had half a year to think about it."

Thranduil placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "You were never exactly the sharpest arrow in the quiver, son."

"Don't listen to a word he says," Legolas cooed to the baby. "Your older brother Legolas is an expert in all things!"

"Of course, you are," Thaliniel patted her husband on the arm and then turned her attention on her new niece. "Oh, Narylfiel. She is absolutely lovely."

"Thank you," Narylfiel said and shared a glance with her husband beside her. "I suppose now the baby is born, you'll be planning to leave soon?" It was terrible timing to bring it up, but she had been worrying about their departure ever since learning of his plans to go to Ithilien. The words had just slipped out. Having a baby was exhausting after all, and well, she just had to know. Patience was never one of her strong suits.

Legolas looked up from cooing at his new baby sister. "Oh, Narylfiel," he said regretfully. "We don't have to talk about that now."

Thranduil placed a calming hand on his wife's shoulder and said nothing.

It was then that Princess Lithôniel scrunched up her face, turned red, and promptly began to cry.

Legolas tried shifting her in his arms and patting her back, but to no avail. He sniffed once and then frowned. "Oh, it's definitely time for my little sister to return to her father."

Thaliniel looked on in disbelief. The King of the Woodland Realm did not change nappies, did he?

Thranduil smiled as he took his daughter into his arms and kissed her forehead. Lithôniel stopped her fussing and looked up at him with her big blue eyes. "Of course, she wants her Ada," he said. "Did that mean old Legolas upset you, little one? Should we throw him in our dungeons? We could, yes, we could..." He tickled her under her chin and then became aware of the others' stares in his direction.

"What?" he said. "Like you've never baby-talked to your son before?" He returned his attention to his daughter. "They're just jealous, aren't they? But we won't let them spoil our fun, will we? No, we won't." He then proceeded to give her several loud air kisses.

From her propped up position on the bed, Narylfiel smiled as her husband, the king of the realm, settled their daughter on the changing table and deftly changed her into a clean nappy. "It does completely shatter the image I've built up in my mind of him as a savage warrior-king."

Legolas chuckled. "If only the dwarves knew..."

Thranduil looked up after returning his daughter to his wife's arms and pressing a kiss against her temple. "Come a little closer and say that again, son," he said, his eyes gleaming.

Legolas cleared his throat. "Well, we don't want to overstay our welcome." He backed his way toward the door. "Congratulations again, Father and Narylfiel. Lithôniel is perfect."

Thaliniel followed, laughing at her husband's antics as she left, and then it was just the pair of them alone at last, well, almost alone—with the addition of one very much hoped-for baby girl.

Narylfiel smoothed the tuft of fine blonde hair against her baby's head and gently stroked the velvet of her cheek. She felt the bed shift a little, the corners of her mouth turning up as her husband settled beside her.

"You big softie you," she said, leaning into him, her head coming to rest against his shoulder.

"Few in the kingdom would agree," Thranduil said wryly.

"Their loss," she replied, her words punctuated by a short yawn. "You don't know this, little Lithôniel, but your father has many sides. Yes, he's a king and a warrior, distinguished and deadly, but he's also the same elf who taught me how to throw a curveball in handball, the same elf who used to put his mountain of correspondence away to play treasure hunt with me when I was an elfling..." she locked eyes with Thranduil "someone who rode to my rescue before I knew I needed it, He's patient and deadly and strong and tender and wonderful and—"

"Narylfiel, I could say all the same things of you," he told her softly. "Only I would add that no sight have I seen could be sweeter than that of you holding our child right now."

With Narylfiel nestled snugly against him, their child in her arms, Thranduil let the warmth of her song wash over him, the light airy notes of sun-drenched mornings, the rustle of beech trees welcoming a cool breeze, her hand in his, the sound of her laughter as she reached for him, and floating delicately along, there was a new song, whisper soft as butterfly wings on petals. Lithôniel.

It had been Narylfiel who had originally proposed the idea for her name. Thranduil had been touched and honored. His mother would have loved Narylfiel, he was sure of it.

Thranduil closed his eyes, remembering when his mother once told him he was meant for more than just war. Now with his homeland safe, wife and child healthy and content beside him, he knew the truth of her words.

He was the Elvenking.

He was a father.

A husband.

A healer.

An elf.

Just Thranduil.

And if he decided tomorrow that he and Narylfiel were going to spend all day in bed together with Lithôniel and eat copious amounts of jam and bread and gossip about their friends, that was more than all right.

In fact, it sounded perfect.

The End

Thranduil: #perfection #mysuperpower

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