They buried the queen's remains on a small hilltop about two leagues or so to the west of Mount Gundabad, near the source of the Forest River with an unobstructed view to the very north edge of Mirkwood. Mount Gundabad was just a mountain now, no longer cursed or the mouth of evil in the North. The rangers had ventured as far as they dared into the depths and routed the remaining orcs from its caverns and tunnels. With the armies of evil disbanded in this part of the world, perhaps one day the lands of Angmar might at last forget their days of darkness. Then again perhaps one day the forces of evil might once more rise again, but for at least a generation of the Dúnedain they would have peace in this part of Middle Earth.

Beringil was buried a few paces away at the queen's side. As Elf-friend and having saved her son's life, Legolas felt it was fitting that it should be so. A further six rangers were buried there that day; Faolán and Maevé were amongst the fallen. The rangers grieved deeply over the loss of ones so very young. With seven brave rangers and one elf queen buried on that smooth hilltop, none of their bones would ever be alone or forgotten.

Rising from where he had been kneeling at his mother's graveside, Legolas felt the cool metal of the silver ring in his hand press against his palm. It was the twin to the ring his father always wore. One day, if his Father would give him leave to return, he would bring it back to Thranduil in the Woodland Realm. Legolas hoped that his father would feel even a small part of the new sense of peace that now was spreading throughout his own soul.

As he rose to his feet, he sensed his wife at his side before she reached for his hand. Turning around together, Legolas wordlessly surveyed the group that stood upon the hillside at the gravesites. Asvard was crouched near Beringil's grave, saying his last goodbye to his old friend, Legolas smiled to himself as he wondered whether Asvard was still talking about trout. Rodorin's arm was bound up in a sling, Kaelin was at his side as they paid their respects to their comrades, particularly their peers. The young ranger was carefully keeping his eyes averted beneath his dark-brown curls, but Legolas wondered as he saw Rodorin's and Kaelen's fingertips hesitantly touching, whether Rodorin would not rather be looking at the young woman beside him. Elladan and Elrohir stood side-by-side, their identical faces illuminated by the tentative rays of sunlight as it tried to break through the cold grey clouds. The elder of the two, Elladan seemed almost protective over his younger brother as he laid a hand on Elrohir's shoulder, his face strained with grief for those that they had lost. The other rangers either knelt or stood in silence at the various graves of their companions and brothers, as they honored their fallen. Many of the rangers carried injuries from the battle, largely cuts and lacerations that the twins were able to treat although one or two needed assistance to walk. The return journey would be long and arduous.

Legolas took a deep breath, as Elladan and Elrohir turned to meet his gaze and the grieving rangers rose to their feet. Meeting the eyes of his friends, his arm around his wife, Legolas smiled fondly at them all and shouldered his bow.

"Its time. Time to go home."

-0-0-0-0-0-

So this is a short but necessary conclusion to our excursion in the North. If you are curious as to how Legolas's mother ended up there, you NEED to read TheGreenScholar 's story 'The Last Elf Queen of Arda' (if you aren't curious, but love Tolkien you should read it anyway!!!)  

As mentioned prior, this Agmar/Gundabad plotline and the majority of the beautiful writing belong to the 'TheGreenScholar, who kindly let me borrow it and tinker with it.

I would love to receive your comments and please VOTE on this chapter if you enjoyed it. Your votes/comments are the only way I have of finding out who is on this journey with me and are such a great encouragement to keep writing! I really appreciate them!