This story is dedicated to Lily Lindsey-Aubrey

My first fan fiction friend

Who gave me the idea

For this strange tale

In a review

For

Life of Legolas

Thank you

Chapter Ten: Philosophy

It was the music that woke him up. The lovely strumming of a Lyre was what welcomed him back to the Land of the Living. And yet... he wasn't sure that he wanted to awaken. It was such a hard world to live in. There would be consequences to face, prices to pay. But somehow- somehow... that Lyre music made it all worth it.

But that squeaky voice was starting to get on his nerves.

"Feren, you can wake up now," said that voice. Then, it added, somewhat more timidly, "Well, you don't have to if you don't want to. Whatever you like is fine with me."

Feren was tempted to keep his eyes closed, tempted to look weak and pathetic. It was sort of fun, having his cousin, who he had worried over for so long, worry over him. Feren didn't consider himself to be a cruel person, however, so, summoning up his strength, he opened his eyes. His vision swam at first- he suspected a slight concussion had been inflicted upon his noble head- but soon it cleared, and he saw the very person that he had once believed that he would never see again.

Lindir. He sat before the window, the splintered light of the sunset dappling his robes and giving the Lyre in his hands an ethereal glow. The Lyre. Feren sat abruptly from the bed at the sight of it, and immediately regretted it. His head didn't exactly feel peachy-keen; he might as well take it easy. He dropped back down, his head banging loudly and satisfyingly against the firm pillow.

Lindir blinked at Feren. "Oh good. You're awake." The minstrel scooted his chair closer to his cousin's bedside, the chair legs screeching raucously against the hard ground. "How are you feeling?"

Feren decided to go for the pathetic angle. "Oh, mildly concussed, but I'll be fine, never fear, dear cos of mine," he replied weakly, gifting his cousin with a heartbreakingly-beautiful smile.

"I'm awfully sorry about that," said Lindir. "You startled me. I didn't expect you would come."

"Of course I did," said Feren crossly. "You doubted me?"

"No, no," said Lindir, looking away, as if ashamed that he would have given Feren cause to think such a notion. "Not really. I just... I never meant to ask you for the Lyre, specifically. I thought that it would be so much trouble. So after you replied to me so promptly after I wrote you about my health that other time, saying that you wanted to get me the Lyre, I tried to reply quickly, telling you that it wasn't necessary. I was feeling better already, and didn't want you to go to any trouble on my account. So I sent you that letter by way of that interesting red-haired wood-elf, along with my..." he broke off with what sounded vaguely like a sob. "...my butterfly hair clip, as an apology gift for making you think that you had to get it for me."

Feren gasped. "Le gasp! That hair clip!"

Lindir gasped. "Le- wait. Did you forget it? Please tell me that you brought it with you."

There was a strange silence for several minutes. Then, Feren grinned. "Of course I brought it with me." He handed it to Lindir, who eagerly accepted it, putting it into his hair immediately. There was no point, thought Feren, in telling Lindir that he had, in fact, forgotten it initially. He had remembered it in the end, hadn't he?

After Lindir had finished with the hair clip, he looked back towards his cousin. "Just because I didn't want you to get it for me doesn't mean I don't want it now, though. It's wonderful. I adore it." Then his gaze turned to one of worry. "But you didn't get in trouble, did you?"

"Well... it's a long story," said Feren, unsure of whether or not he wanted to tell the long story to Lindir.

"Alright," said Lindir, absent-mindedly strumming The Lyre. "I'm listening."

"Well..." began Feren, deciding that he, in fact, did not want to tell the long story. "I'd think that I'd rather not say after all- it was a harrowing time, and I think that I'd rather forget all about it. I'm just glad that you're alive."

Lindir blinked. "So am I. Did you think that I was... otherwise?"

Feren wiped away a tear. "Yes. I never thought that you would part with your butterfly hair clip, so I assumed that it was a parting gift, of a sort."

Lindir gasped. "Of course not! If I was going to bequeath it, I would have bequeathed it to someone who would wear it, like Elrond. Did something happen to my letter? It explained everything- that it was an apology gift, and everything."

"Your lett-" Feren stopped. Tauriel had brought a letter, hadn't she? And he had been about to read it, but got distracted by the hair clip...

Lindir jumped, scared out of his wits by Feren's sudden groan. "What?" asked the startled minstrel.

Feren didn't answer.

"Feren? Feren?" Lindir grew panicked. "Wake up! Feren... Lord Elrond!"

A hassled-looking Lord of Imladris made his way hurriedly into the room. "What's wrong, Lindir?"

Lindir looked up tearfully at his lord. "Feren woke up, but then something happened to him, and-and-and..."

Lord Elrond bent over the messenger of Mirkwood, attentively listening for the sound of his breathing. A minute later, he seemed satisfied, and looked up at Lindir. "He's fine. He's just fainted."

Lindir looked doubtful. "Feren never faints."

"Well, he does have a concussion, although it's a minor one," said Elrond, patting Lindir's shoulder in a way that he hoped was comforting. "It's only to be expected that he'll be dizzy and such for a little while. Did you say something to upset him?"

"Well, I didn't think so, but..."

After Lindir explained his talk with his cousin, Elrond shook his head. "I'd heard bits of the story from Legolas and Tauriel, but I wasn't sure why they thought you were dead- it was quite unclear. It seems, Lindir, that your cousin is quite the dangerous force, in a way. People seem to listen to whatever he says, and think it all right. In a way, I feel like that he deserved what happened to him."

"Don't say that, Lord Elrond!" gasped Lindir, hugging the Lyre. "He got this for me, didn't he? And he is my cousin, and blood is thicker than water." He looked down at his unconscious cousin. "I know that he sometimes does things that are less than nice, but..." he stopped, thinking. "I do think that he means well. Even when he's out to get money, he means well; and this wasn't even out to get money. It was for me."

Elrond once again shook his head. "You astound me, Lindir. Sometimes, I wonder at your lack of understanding, and your tendency to let yourself be pushed around, and other times, I'm astounded at your perceptiveness."

"Um..." Lindir was unsure of what to say to this vaguely ambiguous compliment. "Thank you?"

"You're welcome?" responded the Lord of Imladris hesitantly; he wasn't sure if what he had said to Lindir counted as a compliment.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, Elrond spoke. "The butler, Galion, woke up."

"Oh, did he?" asked Lindir, for lack of anything else to say.

"Yes," said Elrond, getting back into the swing of the conversation. "He remembers nothing of the past forty-eight hours. He's recovering from a fit of hysterics at the moment; he was very upset when he was told of his part in this incredible Lyre plot. Glorfindel seems very interested in the theory that the butler was drugged to fall asleep. Legolas seems more inclined to believe that he merely got drunk, which Galion himself vehemently denies."

"That's too bad," said Lindir. "About him being sad, I mean." After another minute, he added, in a quavering voice, "is Legolas around, by any chance?"

"Oh, he's out sparring with the boys," said Elrond. "It's been forever since they've seen each other. You can probably slip to where you want to go right now, since they're occupied."

Lindir did as instructed, stealing out of the room after a quick "thank you" to the Lord of Imladris. As he left, Elrond looked down at the bed where Feren lay. He wasn't sure what to think. Was this strange Mirkwood elf a hero, or a villain? Or was it as clear-cut as all that? The boy had stolen something, committed treachery, in fact, and convinced others to do the same, but it was all for his cousin. It was all so strange.

Elrond quickly put these philosophical thoughts out of his head; they weren't appropriate for this sort of story at all. Instead, he rose from his seat, and followed Lindir out of the door. It was nearly time for the evening meal, and someone had to call everyone for it. It might as well be him. He left the door open, however- he didn't want to shut in the poor concussed elf.

His footsteps echoed down the hall, and soon disappeared. As soon as they did, Feren opened his eyes, and grinned. Lindir's words had been so touching. He honestly would never forget them, but for now, it was time to stop dwelling on them and get some sleep. After all, he needed to be in tip-top shape for when he and his party returned to Mirkwood. Of course, he'd get someone other than himself to explain things to the Elvenking, if they needed to explain things at all. They could probably figure out a way to avoid it. Feren could, anyway. He'd figured out how to get the Lyre, hadn't he? He'd figured out how to get to Rivendell, hadn't he? He could figure this out, too.

Feren always figured things out.

The end

Feel free to skip this crazy-long author's note- I just have so much that I want to tell you guys!

Wow- that serious dedication at the top felt so weird- but, seriously, I am feeling kind of melancholy right now(as you can probably tell from the weirdly serious tone of this chapter). This is the first story that I've ever completed! *cries* Thanks so much to Lily for the idea, and thank you all for your fantastic follows, you fabulous favourites, and your radiant reviews. You are all awesome, and I love you guys. *Gives you all Glorfy hugs and cupcakes*

This story means a lot to me, surprisingly. It's such a weird concept- the Lyre. Does it have actual power, or is it just in the eye of the beholder(or the ear of the listener)? There's more philosophy for you guys. ;) I have definitely grown as a writer along the course of this story- it was originally meant to be just a silly little accompaniment to my story Life of Legolas, and was only going to be a few chapters long. Feren was never going to get the Lyre- I didn't want to reward his wrong-doings. Galion was going to be a very minor character- I didn't care about him in the beginning. *murders past self* There were many other differences- but I like this long version better, and I hope you do too, and didn't get tired of it. Thank you all for being so encouraging. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.

But wait! It's not quite done! I'm going to be publishing a "bonus features" story to go along with this one, called Lyre, Lyre: Key Change. It will have three parts- deleted scenes, an alternate ending, and a "post-credits" scene. Please check it out when I put it up!

Also, I have lots of other stories that I'm working on that I love for you to take a look at. Some are published and ongoing now, and there are others, like my future Sherlock/LotR crossover and my future Galion Angst series, that I would love you guys to be a part of when they're published. I'll be so sad if I stop getting reviews from you guys... so please at least give them a look.

Thank you all for being a part of this. I love you all, and I hope to see you again in the future!