A/N: I had earlier written half a story with the title Laurelin and the same original character. But I kept getting stuck so often that I decided to do the story in flashbacks. They are denoted by . Hope u like this fic!
CHAPTER 1
The sun was setting outside, and there was silence everywhere except for the noises of the birds making ready for the night. Inside the chamber, the delicate hangings were drawn, and there was little noise but for the soft breathing of the two people within it. The room was not richly furnished, but comfortable, and shelves carrying all manner of healing herbs lined the walls. Only two Elves were in it, one who lay pale and unmoving on the bed, her eyes shut to the world, and the other, thetall figure of the Prince of Mirkwood, lines of weariness etched into his face. He was sitting by the bed, watching it intently, and yet he remained far away, consumed in thought. Only one question hammered at his mind, relentlessly repeating itself again and again--Why? What had he done to deserve such pain? He could not rest in peace until he found the answers to them.His blue eyes, clouded with sorrow, seemed for the first time to glance upon the elf on the bed.
She was clad in simple white clothing, her golden hair tied back and no ornaments but the scratches and wounds that marked her suffering. Her skin, almost translucent was more dead than living, and indeed she was near death, had been so for three days now. The Prince was overcomewith adisbelief in the sight before him.
Was she in truth his beloved? Laurelin, where is your light, your laughter gone? Why do you lie so, unwilling to awaken, making me wish I could enter your darkdreams and bring you back to the land of the living? Three days, reflected the Prince, his shaking hand taking her lifeless one, three days that had been harder than any battle fought. Three days, his eyes filled with tears, the difference between life and death for aninnocent child.As the tears fell the realisation hit him--Elan was no more. The star, so lately fallen to earth to brighten their lives was gone forever. Crushing grief made him bend as no hardship had, his heart would burst under the weight of sadness it carried. Sadness--and fear, his hand clutched the one that it held. He, the Prince of Mirkwood, undeafeated in battle, was fighting a fear that grew everyday his Princess remained far away from the living world. He did not allow himself to even think of her dying--for if that happened, why should he be alive? She would not die, he told himself, she could not die and leave him alone, doomed to darkness where all light had gone with her.
The Prince took the cold hand up to his lips and kissed it, all the while pleading "Live, please live".
The day was beautiful.. "Aptly suited to a wedding", Legolas reflected with a smile. Smiles came easily to his lips that day, and laughter echoed everywhere in Imladris, as they prepared for the marriage of their beloved Lady Laurelin, with the Prince of Mirkwood. Arda itself seemed glad at the union, for there could be no more asked for than a perfectly blue, clear sky, with the sun smiling down upon them all as busy Elves went about their work in the valley.
The Prince himself stood awaiting his bride beside a tall arch, from where they would proceed together to the glade where they would be united forever. He found himself smiling and nodding to any Elf who passed by, on their way to the place of the wedding as they cast him everything from envious looks to sad glances of longing which he found most amusing. Of course, the vast majority were merely happy for the Prince and their Lady, both well-beloved by their peoples.
"Well, cund nin, are you ready at last?", enquiredLadyLaurelin appearing in the corridor. She was clothed in a soft, white dress and her golden hair was free of any bond and lay all about her shoulders.
"It is I who should ask you that, Laurel", he said softly, looking at her with admiring eyes. All elves were beautiful, he knew, but to him, she was the most beautiful of all. She smiled, and he found himself following her.
"Ah, I should have thought you would be tired of that", she remarked with a laugh, and a mischievous twinkle in her eyes as she regarded him, "My brothers have observed your unwavering good cheer all morning".
"I shall endeavour to look suitably unhappy to be married then", he replied, schooling his features into an expression of utmost melancholy and making her laugh again. He clasped her hand, and they began to walk together down the path to the glade.
"You do not look quiteold enough to be married", he said teasingly.
"Neither do you, a'maelamin", she said softly, "You look wonderful", she added. He was clad the same as her in white, with a silver circlet upon his brow. Their young faces, alight with happiness were a joy to behold. Every elf present there felt the existence of the love between them. It was a perfect match. They walked slowly, hand in hand down the path in the center of the clearing.
And at the end of that path, the beginning of another, eternal one was witnessed by all. With one last glance at each other unwed, LadyLaurelin and PrinceLegolas stood in their places. And thus,as the sun shined down and the birds sang to themon that glorious day in April, were Laurelin, youngest daughter of Elrond of Imladris, and Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, bound to each other forevermore.
Another day had passed by, and Laurelin did not awaken from her sleep. Legolas came to sit by her once moreat sunset.Anotherterrible day had dawned on him, and he had forced himself through its labour, hiding his grief and his fear within the deepest reaches of his heart. Hewould not give in.He knew it was as a storm, and that eventually, it would thrust itself out. But he could not give heed to it now, not while his Laurelin remained like this.
"Laurel", Legolas whispered softly, taking her limp hand in his. It was quite cold. He caressed it gently, almost afraid. "I need you", he said, his voice breaking, "You cannot be so cruel as to abandon me".
The elleth before him said nothing. Her paleness seemed increased, her lips were growing white and he could not see any sign of life. She was slipping away, his mind said to him in despair, she was leaving him. The Prince stood up suddenly, wishing he could grasp her shoulders and shake her in order to pull her back to his world, to keep her with him and never let her run away from him but he could not bring himself to touch her again. She was leaving him. The agony of the thought seeped through, to his very bones and he knew he could not stay in her chamber anymore. Not while she lay thus. He would not watch her leave, slowly, painfully--the Prince, resolving to come back later, stumbled out of his wife's chambers without a backward glance at her lifeless body.
"Is he not beautiful? The most wonderful thing you have ever seen?", Laurelin whispered, stars in her eyes, as Legolas admired their newborn son, lying asleep in his cradle. "He is indeed", replied the proud father, who would much rather stay and gaze at his child than anything else. He was sitting beside Laurelin, who lay on the bed, both of them unable to take their eyes off the cradle.
"It feels wonderful to think that I could bring a little life into this world", the equally adoring mother continued.
"You did not think it such a wonderful thing yesterday. In fact, if I do remember aright, you were cursing everyone within sight and me especially, for causing you such pain" Legolas said with a laugh.
"You try giving birth to a child and see how you like it, cund nin; I am still exhausted from all my efforts in trying to bring this child out", Laurelin replied defensively.
"What will we name him?", Legolas asked, wondering if there was a good enough name in Sindarin or Quenya to grace his son with.
"I have thought of one, it occurred to me while I was watching the stars yesterday, through the window. Elan seems appropriate, does it not?".
He smiled at the sleeping form in the cradle. He would be a star; he would grow up tall and strong to guide his people just like his great-grandfather and his grandfather before him. The Prince stroked the tiny child's soft cheek with one finger, saying to his wife, "I could think of no better".
"She has awoken".
The three words spoken with reverence and unconcealed joy by the messenger had barely been spoken when the Prince was out of his seat and making his way to the Healer's room. She has awoken. Legolas hardly dared to hope, believing that even now she could leave him, and it would be just a dream. And then, he was standing outside the door, pausing for breath. How could he tell her? The thought was like a dart laced with poison, piercing his heart and leaving him helpless. If he told her, would she leave him once more?
He walked slowly into the room, not daring to look straight at her. He could not bear to be the one to take away the faint hope she still possessed. A shadow of a smile flitted across her face and was gone as soon as it came for, one single look at her husband's face told her that her hope was vain. He sat down beside her, still unable to meet her eyes.
"Laurel" was all Legolas could whisper softly, before she silenced him.
"Do not say it, I beg you", she said, in a voice that was barely audible, even to an elf. The slight colour that had appeared in her cheeks when she had seen him vanished. Legolas was truly afraid that he would lose her forever at that moment. She looked alive, and yet her eyes betrayed that she would rather be dead. The grief and pain in them were something the Prince had never seen before. He brought her into his arms, wrapping them around her, and she rested her head against his shoulder.
"Did you find him?", she asked. He could feel her tears falling on his tunic.
"Yes", he whispered.
He did not tell her that all they had found was Elan's bloodstained dress.
"He was buried yesterday", he added.
Laurelin lowered her head, unable to say anything. It still seemed like a dream, a nightmare rather, to both of them. It did not seem true that the promise and joy their lives had held four days ago could ever come back. It did not seem that Elan was gone. Both Laurelin and Legolas expected to hear his baby cries anytime now, wailing for attention.
"I do not think- I- can- ever truly live again", she said finally. Legolas drew her closer and held her tight, as she sobbed for their lost son.