Never opened myself this way: 9

Lost in thoughts Legolas sat beneath one of the tallest trees in Imladris. It had past almost a century since he had met Elladan and Elrohir in that tavern in Minas Tirith, since he had met his cousin – the cousin he knew he would loose soon. He had tried everything, for years Celebrian had been able to quench her need to visit her home and her friends but almost twenty years ago she had first left the safety of Imladris to travel to Lothlorien – and had returned safely.

A few day ago she had once again left the valley and his pleadings had fallen on deaf ears; he knew that she would not return, that she would be captured and tortured. But he had to agree with her argument, the argument that had allowed him to let her go and remain behind: she would die wherever she was, her time on Arda had ended and it was only a matter of how and whom she would take with her. Every single one of the guards that accompanied her knew that they would most likely never return and even though he felt horrible about it he couldn't bring himself to mourn for those guards, all he could think of what that he was going to loose his cousin.

Lost in thought he didn't even register that Glorfindel made his way over to him, only as the older elf stood next to him did he look up, truly startled for the first time in his life:

"Forgive me my friend, I did not notice your presence before..."

With a tilt of his head Glorfindel sat down next to his young friend, a friend he had adopted as his charge and looked searchingly at him. He had noticed for a few years now that the younger one became more and more withdrawn and wondered about the cause.

"What is worrying you? Ever since Lady Celebrian has left you have been even more absentminded and have easily lost your temper."

Expectantly he looked at the red haired prince who was after all those years still a mystery to him and everyone else in that realm.

"During the first weeks of my stay here I had a vision, a vision that foretold the capture and torture of Celebrian. My heart tells me that she will not return unscathed from this journey and that when she is found she will not remain. Her days on Arda are over and even though I know it I can not help but wish that she would be able to stay."

Legolas was not able to look at his friend while he spoke, sure the other would blame him, blame him like he himself did. He feared and hated his visions, for most of them showed him a future he wished to change but was unable to. Only in rare cases did he have the chance to alter the outcome of his visions. Sometimes he was able to save life's – but sometimes his intervention caused even more life's than it saved. His thirst for revenge made him a murderer, a ruthless killer no better than an Orc – and yet he planned for an other act of revenge against the one who started his pain. Did he have a right to ask for peace, for an end of his endless pain? Did he deserve peace or happiness if he was thirsting for his fathers death? He had no answers for those questions since he had first asked them himself after he had slaughtered the ones who planned and attempted the murder of the grandchild of the steward.

Was Celebrians fate a way to make him pay for his sins? Deep within his mind he knew that such thoughts were ridiculous but with his conscious mind he could not help but thinking them. She was the first who had welcomed him into a family, his family – no, that was not right, Elrond had been the first but than he was related to Elrond only by marriage – the first who had told him of his mother and brothers... How would he be able to bear it when he lost her? How would Elrond bear to loose his wife.

For the first time in his life was he able to envision the pain his father must have felt at his mothers parting, true, he had felt pain when Lareth had died and later Lareths children and grandchildren, he had thought of them as his family, loved them as if they were from his blood – but he had always known that they were mortal that they would someday die. If he hadn't given Lareth the promise not to fade over a member of his family he would have followed his foster son to death.

How much worse must it had been for his father to loose his wife, his one love to death when she was supposed to be immortal? Could he really blame his father for taking out his pain on the apparent source of his pain? Had it really been his fathers intention to kill him or had he just sought a way to escape his pain, not imagining that it would cost his new born son his life.

He would never get an answer to those questions, he knew that he would never be able to ask them, his hate for his father was to great to even think of having a conversation with the man who had caused him so much pain and destroyed his life in more than one way. Would Elrond succumb to the same kind of grief his father had? Would he also turn against him when he lost his wife? After all it had been him who had told Elrond first of the fate of Celebrian.

Should he stay and risk to face the wrath of the son of Eärendil? Was he really willing to find out if his cousins husband would react the same way as his father had all those years ago?

A part of him told him that Elrond would never turn against him, that he would never take out his grief on someone else, that he would never turn to violence... but than no one who had known his father before his mothers death would have believed him capable of murder, they still didn't think that it was him who was responsible for the death of his youngest child, that it was him who murdered his infant son. So how could he be sure that Elrond was really different from his father?

Elrond had been terrified by the scars on his neck, the scars that would always look as fresh as in the moment he had received them, yet he did not know who gave him those scars only how he gained them.

Glorfindel had to call him several times before he reacted to his call. But even as he reacted to the older elf he did so absentmindedly, his thoughts still on his father till the older elf finally gave up on their conversation and he was once again left alone with his thoughts and memories.

Hours later he was found in the same position Glorfindel had left him in by Arwen. A smile graced his face as he saw her coming towards him, even though it were the twins who had brought him to Imladris it was Arwen whom he had grown closest to besides Elrond, Celebrian and Glorfindel. At first their relationship had been awkward as everyone, especially their family had tried to force them together, teasing them and telling them how perfect they looked together. It had taken them the better part of the first half of the century he had spend there to convince everyone that they saw each other as brother and sister, nothing more. Thinking back it was rather amusing to watch the twins trying to convince Arwen or himself that they would only find happiness with each other.

Without a word Arwen sat down in front of her brothers guest, no she mused, he was more like family than a guest, he was as close to her as her brothers, maybe even closer. When he had first come to her fathers valley he had been so distant to everyone except her parents and Lord Glorfindel. Even to her brothers, who had brought him with them from a visit in Minas Tirith was he reserved. Not once had he indicated where he came from or who he was, it had at once been clear to her that he did not tell the whole truth about his past yet she did not know what it was that he was hiding.

A few times she had seen him sparring with either her father or Glorfindel or Erestor and it had frightened her with what coldness he was wielding his weapons. Elladan had once asked him to fight with him a mock duel and Carnil had reclined, telling him that he only wielded his weapons either to train and learn something new or to kill – but never to play. Her brother and everyone else had been shocked by the coldness that radiated from their friend as he spoke those words, how their calm soft-spoken friend became suddenly cold and deadly.

In moments like those she feared him like she had never feared anything else in her life. As soon as he had noticed how his coldness affected her he had tried to suppress it whenever she was near but on rare occasions she was still able to witness it. Since she had first seen him so cold she wondered what could have caused him to become like that. She had often watched him when he deemed himself alone and unobserved and had seen him without the mask that he seemed to always wear: on those occasions his face had been so open, so expressive. Yet what she had seen had frightened her nearly as much as his coldness, the normally collected and calm elf lost in solitude all confidence and became a scared deeply hurt child. After she had witnessed that transformation the first time she had tried to talk with her mother about it but had been told that there was nothing she could do for her friend.

Once at night, shortly after a visit from her grandfather when Carnil had been only for a year in Imladris she has seen him wielding a sword. The sight had transfixed her, she had often seen others wielding their weapons, others whom she knew were experienced warriors but none she had seen had ... felt so deadly, so cold and calculated as did Carnil. She could not say what evoked that feeling in her, the knowledge that the only reason he would ever wield that sword in earnest was pure undiluted hate and thirst for revenge. Whoever would be on the other side of that sword would have no chance for survival.

As much as it frightened her but that knowledge comforted her, she was sure that whoever gained the hate from her friend deserved death. She could not tell why she had so much faith in someone she barely knew but the fact that both her parents and also her grandfather and Glorfindel approved of him strengthened her trust in the mysterious elf.

Neither of the two friends spoke for a long time, each watching the other lost in thought, secure in the knowledge that there was no need for words between them, their mere presence used to give comfort to the other. Yet for some years now Arwen had felt that her friend was drifting away from her, that he was closing himself of even more than he had before. She had first noticed it when her mother had visited Lothlorien the last time, during her absence he had hardly spoken a word to anyone besides her father and had avoided any contact if possible. What was it that held his thoughts in a place so dark that all his good feelings seemed to be swallowed? Should she dare to ask what was ailing him, knowing that even though they were friends he would not confine in her or should she stay silent as before and watch how he seemed to fall even faster? At last she decided to risk having his coldness turned to her and spoke up:

"Carnil, you worry me, for the last years you have become colder and distanced yourself from everyone but naneth, adar and Glorfindel... and now since naneth has left you have become even colder... what is happening to you, what have you seen?"

Arwen soft voice penetrated his dark thoughts, asking him what was happening to him. How could he answer such a question to the daughter of the woman he knew would be tortured and nearly killed? What was it that he had seen? Should he answer her truthfully? Should he tell her what she wanted to know or should he purposely misunderstand the last part of her question?

Before answering her he looked carefully at her, she looked so innocent, as innocent as a child... no, not a child but a child who was secure in the knowledge that its parents loved it unconditional and would die for him. An innocence he reflected he had never possessed – at least not since the moment his fathers hands had closed around his frail neck and had started to squeeze. He remembered the moment clearly when he had realised that the father he loved hated him and wished for his death – and that he was mere moments apart from that death.

... Neither had Lareth possessed that innocence or any kind of innocence, Minas Tirith was a hart place for anyone without a name or money especially if you were a child with no one to turn to. The thought of Lareth brought him back to Arwen who was looking at him inquiringly. Without thought he spoke.

"Someday you will see Gondor, you will see it in the glory I have witnessed before it started to fall into the shadows. And someday you will call it your home."

He did not know how he knew it but he was sure that Arwen future lay in the land he had called his home most of his life.