Leaves of Green
Author's Note: This is a tiny follow-up to The Other World.
Full summary: This was a love story. One that stretched beyond the boundaries of worlds. One that existed in a world one could not leave without dying. One that had survived for ten thousand years. A love that had never been fully expressed. She was a favorite of her God and he, an immortal. Thus their love seemed doomed to fail, had it not been for the pity of their God.
His work was done. The last orc lay silent at his feet. Black blood was lapped up by the ground like a sponge drank water. His pale eyes took in his surroundings. He had ventured very deep into the forest. Deeper than usual these days. He had been to this forest more times than he could count. It was old when he first visited it. It had aged even more now. It had grown lethargic. The trees had become massive. Silent.
He remembered days when the trees used to speak with one another. Those memories inevitably led to memories of a woman with black hair. Her laugh and how she had never been afraid to walk these woods. Memories of a war. How it had changed, not only the world, but him as well.
Close friends who had all gone into the afterlife quietly.
Almost ten thousand years had passed since then. A million misspent days where he had sought for passages between this world and the next. In that time he had spoken with a great many people. He had been noticed, he knew. Written into books about kings and war as a pale shadow of an ancient world. The Last Elf which he truly was. The elves had all left Middle-Earth and the line of Arwen Undómiel had long ago been watered out. Descendants of Aragorn Telcontar had been overthrown, reclaimed thrones and been chased from their countries. Some had been tyrants, but most had been god kings. Good queens.
But the governing system had changed. The world had changed. It had aged. Not in the color of the grass, or in the flavor of the wind. The sensations were still the same. But the very breaths of humans seemed different. Elves, trolls, dragons and dwarves were things of ages past. Now they only existed in fairy tales, deep beneath the earth where humans daren't yet venture. Or they lived as he – as silent wraiths on the outskirts of a noisy world.
He had stopped counting the days. Stopped seeing the beauty in each new face. For years after losing his love he had retained the compassion she gave him. He had seen the world in a rosy hue. Experienced things again and marveled at the beauty he never noticed before. Those days were long gone when he could find beauty in even the ugliest of people. The woman who had caused it, also long gone.
It was autumn now. That much he knew. The leaves were turning red. They still did that, at least. The sun still faded as if someone trapped it in a misty glass jar. Winter still came – slightly later now – but still with a sting in the early morning, and later on the cold bite of frost. But nothing mattered. He had seen more beauty than any creature before him. Lived longer than any elf. In one body, in any case.
He felt tired. He slept longer each day. And though he still had the body of his youth, he no longer used it. He hadn't fought in a long time. He didn't race across plains of grass just to feel alive. Now he took long walks in the ever-more populating forests. He greeted occasional humans as they passed him with open mouths. They were all smaller than him.
This far west people had long ago begun to crossbreed with hobbits. What few half-lengths existed, were now seen as deform. No one remembered the days when a loving people lived in burrows under the hills and sang and danced all night.
The last age of the hobbits he had spent in their company. Come to see them as he suspected Gandalf had. Even after knowing them for a good five thousand years they had still surprised him. A smile played across his face, but froze when he looked up.
A cavern opened before him.
It had been a long time since he walked this forest. Even longer since he had hunted an orc. The one thing it seemed, Time would never kill. They had escaped, what few there were after the war, and hid. Over the millennia they had become the boogey-men of children's stories. Monsters in the forests. He had hunted them wherever rumor called. Finally, two hundred years ago, he had thought them extinct. Right until word reached him from the west. He had come, revisited the old Húorn forest of Buckland.
There he found a single orc. It had shied away from him like an animal, barely capable of intelligent thought any longer. A side effect of their exile was that they became more and more like animals. They had long ago forgotten how to use weapons. As a result they had become little less than wolves or some other large predator.
He had found it, eating the carcass of a deer, and shot it in the back. It had died quickly and the event barely peaked his excitement. It was just another in a line of endless days. He doubted the orcs would ever fully disappear. That evil would ever truly die, but only change and take a new appearance. He knew there would be other wars. There had been, but he had ignored most of them. Gone from warrior to student of time.
Now he was neither. He had become lost somewhere in these endless woods, but someday the world would find him. Someday he would be forced from his sanctuary and thrust into society. He daren't think of that day.
He had watched the known world grow with a rising sense of apprehension. Their machines and castles made him weary. Their intelligence out shadowed their wisdom. They grew and grew until there was little in the world left to explore. Old magic had become stale and vanished completely as new religions came to life. Old gods were forgotten and heroes went from real to fictional.
He stared into the darkness of the cave. There was a deep, resonating humming from within. Around it the forest had grown thick and luscious, but he saw no animal tracks near the opening. For an instant he felt a flash of fear. A sensation he had not felt for some years. His eyes widened and his sharp vision tried to see into the cave. His elven eyes had always been as keen as in the days of the War of the Ring.
He frowned when he saw nothing but darkness. The humming became more pronounced the longer he stared into the darkness, but despite the eerie silence he felt drawn to enter. He strung an arrow and proceeded into the darkness. A small part of him was hoping he could still be surprised. It was years since he had felt that as well.
The darkness swallowed him whole and the second he entered it was as if the outside world vanished. He could no longer hear birdcalls or the wind rushing through the trees. Instead the humming lessened and became a trickle of water in the distance. He felt his heart thud when a smell reached his nose. He couldn't remember where he had smelled it, but it was hauntingly familiar. He followed the sound of drops hitting the floor until it turned to the clatter, and finally a roar, of a waterfall.
He exited the cave behind the waterfall. His wide eyes were staring enchanted at the scenery. It was impossible for a cave to lead to this. Not in the area he had been. He stepped around the fall and hopped down onto a green lawn. As he cleared the rushing water he began to hear birds singing. Somewhere someone laughed.
He frowned at the beauty that surrounded him.
The small clearing was at the foot of a cliff and a waterfall. The water ended in a pool that churned and drained into a bubbling river. It looked cold. In the clearing, green grass grew everywhere. Yellow flowers of some sort as well. The trees around him were all oaks with magnificent crowns full of acorns that billowed in the strong wind.
It was colder here than on the other end of the cave. With a glance back he stepped into the forest. He had no desire to stop now. It was long since he had felt so excited about an adventure. It was long since he hadn't known the road in front of him.
Cautious feet left footprints in the grass that quickly disappeared. The forest around him seemed alive. Much more so than the ones in Middle-Earth. He gazed into the tall tree crowns when several of them bowed to him in passing. His smile widened when he heard laughter again though the silence. It seemed almost otherworldly. Then he saw a woman with skin made of fine twigs and hair of autumn leaves breeze by him. She smiled in passing, but made no move to stop. She looked so serene. Her feet barely bent a blade of grass.
He turned when more laughter echoed like bells through the deep forest. Whoever they were, were close. He reached a large birch and gently stepped onto its roots to peer around the stem. There, in another clearing, he saw a group of people. They were eating and drinking. All of them were smiling, but everything seemed so calm. So relaxed.
The one who had laughed did so again. Her laughter was like a silver bell in the stillness. More women like the Willow Dryad were sitting in the clearing. Animals as well, and creatures that looked part animal, part man. He stepped into the light when a face among all the others caught his attention. A blond boy with a radiant smile. He wore a golden crown and fine clothes.
He looked up as well and noticed the newcomer. The elf realized with a sense of amazement where he had come. The cave had led him into another world. Years after he had stopped searching he had finally found it. The woman who had laughed turned and he saw it was Lucy. A crown rested on her head as well. Silver. She smiled at him when she recognized him. Then turned Edmund with a silver crown like his sister. His smile was as sad as the elf remembered it.
Finally the conversation around the dining friends came to a halt, and Susan turned. Her black hair had been tied up in a braid and a golden crown sat softly atop her head. She looked at him over her shoulder as she slowly turned. Her heavy, red dress lay in soft waves around her legs and when she stood up it moved like water.
The elf and his lady watched each other from across the clearing. His eyes slowly became more and more alive. It was a face he had not seen in millennia. One that didn't look a day over twenty. His own otherworldly appearance faded and he began to look almost human. His unnatural white color faded slightly and his pointed ears lost their delicate tip. He stepped down from the raised root and made his way towards the Gentle Queen.
Her eyes were swimming with unshed tears and her hands covered her mouth. "Legolas…"
When he reached her side he took her hands in his. He held them and felt, as if for the first time, her skin. He raised them up and interlaced his fingers with hers. A soft smile splayed across his lips. She smiled as well when his fingers closed around hers. He leaned in and placed a tender kiss on her lips. His hands released their precious grasp and reached around her neck to pull her closer.
She did as well, having missed him as much as he had her. The moment was not one of triumph or sadness. It was not something that would be written into fables and told for centuries. It was purely and simply two lovers, reuniting. Two lovers who stood in a clearing, in a forest, in a land; a land that didn't really exist, and in a forest that was more fantasy than reality.
The only ones who basked in their glow were those in the immediate vicinity, and yet it seemed as if the feeling grew. It rose into the air and whisked through the trees like a shiver. As if the sun shone a little brighter and the world looked a little prettier.
And on a hill, on a steep incline many many miles away, stood an old Lion. He looked over his land with a content smile. Though he didn't know exactly what, he felt that something had suddenly blessed his lands. And with a mighty smile he reared back his head and roared.
AN: I had this planned for a little while. A little fluff just to make you all happy again. Also a reviewer encouraged me to possibly write a series of oneshots about Susan's adventures while in Middle-Earth. If the muse pokes me I will. In the meantime there's this one.