Chapter Eleven: To Be Alive

By

LordHelen

I can't remember.

I know I should. No, I feel I should. I suddenly don't know much. The world around me has started to fade in a way. All I know is that last night I slept more comfortably. I feel as if last night I knew more. I feel as though I should know what happens tomorrow. But I don't. I don't remember tomorrow. I don't know or remember or whatever it is I should. I don't what will become of Middle Earth, though I feel as though I did once.

I don't remember my life. I remember pain. I remember the pain, the dark, the cold…and hate. I remember a vicious hate for the man I called father. I remember some good things. Like Natalie's smile or Sarah's laugh. But I don't remember much from the time before I came to Middle Earth…there was a time before now, right? I think…but is it only a dream? I feel as if I've never been anywhere but here.

Needless to say, this has me confused and only a bit emotional. Most of the emotional is from Boromir. I can't believe it's taken me this long to realize it. I think of how he's treated me, how he always seemed so worried about my health. About me. I had assumed it was just gratitude for saving his life. How could I have been so blind?

He came in earlier. Helm's Deep had a keep so large, so well protected. I had a small room to myself. Theoden suggested it and I have a feeling it was because he doesn't trust me to sleep with the soldiers he commands. Maybe he just didn't find it proper. As if I'd even think about that at a time like this.

Anyway, Boromir came in. I wasn't close to sleeping. He didn't say much. Something about weather? He just watched me. Eventually, he said a sentence that set me off on a rant.

"There are many young ones who will fight in this war." He was distracted. He didn't expect my response. I didn't either.

"I know. I hate it! There are some years younger than I. Some too young to fight. Half the men-or boys, should I say?-that you see out there won't live to see their next year. Nor the next season, even!" I threw my boot across the room and it hit the wall with a loud clatter. "And what of the others? The ones who have fought enough wars in their days? The ones who were meant to be cared for, the ones old enough to be called grandfather. There is not many soldier out the door, nay, just an army of boys and old men. I do not think Rohan will fare well in this battle."

"You feel strongly of this," Boromir observed. I blushed, embarrassed by my unnecessary outburst. Could it be…"

I looked with a question on my lips when he trailed off. I didn't know he had moved from where he stood across the room. I came to look into his serious eyes, inches from his face. He touched my face, almost a caress on my cheek. Then he sighed and dropped his hand, standing straight and releasing me from his gaze.

"You miss the Ranger," he said unexpectedly. Perhaps brusquely. I looked at my clasped hands and did not answer. Yes, I miss him. I hate that he is not here to fight with me. I hate not seeing him. I hate that I didn't save him, as I should have. As I could have. I hate that I let him fall off that cliff to sharp rocks below and his death. All these things I did not say, yet it seems my silence was answer enough.

Boromir left. I now see what I didn't before. What everyone around me must have seen. Boromir's tenderness, the look in his eyes as he watched me. The way he treated only me. And Legolas, protecting me from the riders of Rohan. How had I not noticed the look he gave Boromir as he stepped in front of me before the man could? I was blind.

Boromir…does not love me. No, love is too strong a word. Or at least, I refuse to think of the feelings as that strong. But more than physical attraction, I think. He…like me. Far too much, he likes me. Enough that it hurts him how much I long for Aragorn now. Not enough for him to stay as I sit here alone and cry. Well, is it crying? There are a few tears. Not many.

I just…I feel overwhelmed. I feel conflicted with what I know and what I feel, I feel emotional over Aragorn's death and Boromir's feelings I have been blissfully unaware of. I feel like bursting apart. There simply isn't enough of me to take care of everything I need to. Boromir, Aragorn, Legolas, Rohan, Sarah, Natalie…my head is reeling from what I have to consider. From everything that is my duty to take care of before it destroys me.

My stomach rolls with my head and suddenly I feel as if the air in the room is too tight. There is no air. I lurch to my feet and wrestle with the heavy door until I have it open and the cool, open air hits my face. Not enough. I hurry down the halls and find a place where I can look out to the wall without actually being on it. The sun hasn't risen, not yet. I take a pale of water left out for the watchmen and splash some on my face.

I am about to drink it when I see my face in the water. I don't recognize myself. Shouldn't I recognize myself? My face is stranger. My hair is long enough to reach my shoulders and even a little beyond. My eyes give an unfamiliar stare. I don't know the girl in the water. It cannot be my reflection, yet it is. Disgusted, I hit the water and the image breaks apart.

"Have you even slept, fair lady?" I can't help but smile. That voice calling my fair…I love it. I turn to face the elf. He seems to glow in the dark. Even at the edge of war, the edge of demise, he glows. He is beautiful.

"I do not sleep well these days." I stop, unpleased. I had meant to lie, to tell him my night had been simply splendid. What is it about the blond elf that draws the truth out easily? "What of you? Surely you must have slept well."

"I find I do not sleep as well beneath stone as I do beneath the sky," he says reluctantly. I understand what he did not say. After all, hadn't I failed to sleep because of Aragorn's death?

"I wonder how that must be like," I say to change the subject from something that will most undeniably upset me again. Crying alone is one thing, but in front of anyone, much less Legolas… "To live in a forest, I mean. I imagine it is wonderful, to wake to trees and flowers and other such things."

"Haven't you spent a fair amount of time sleeping out in the open?" Legolas accepts the change with a smile.

"Not the same," I object. "The forest has trees. And birds. Do birds really sing?" Legolas looks at me to see if I am serious, and when he decides I am, and tells me.

It is wonderful. He tells me of thing only an elf could describe. Of a bird's sweet melody so early in the morning not even the trees have woken. Of the smell of fresh earth and new flowers. The green twilight under a canopy of leaves, the feel of dew on rough bark. The smell of rain on the wind. At my prompting, he speaks for such a long time. I love it.

I honestly don't know how I end up standing in front of him. I have been so enraptured in his stories that I have lost all sense of times. I have been so captivated in the wonder that is Legolas that I have lost all sense of myself. As he finishes his tale, I realize that I have wandered ever closer to the elf. I think of…but no.

But why not? We are alone. There is no one else in this corridor, which might be a bit suspicious. Aragorn is dead. I act on a sudden whim. One of those desires you are certain will cause disastrous events to occur. The kind of whim you should never do but always do. I have never done one of those until now.

I stretch up and press my lips to his. He is surprised. Then he puts his hands on my waist and I think he will push me away. He doesn't. He pulls me closer, pulls me up towards him. I wrap my arms around his neck and we kiss. Our lips move together in new, extraordinary patterns. Heat burns up inside me as I crush my lips to his.

I have never kissed anyone before. I have dreamed of kissing, though. This is different. That dream was hot and hard and urgent. This is still hot, but it is sweet. Legolas holds me gently, as if I am delicate. This isn't urgent. We have all the time in the world to kiss. Time speeds up and eventually we have to break apart to breathe. As I pant for breath, I realize the sun has started to rise. Time has sped up. I want more. I want to kiss him again and again. Kissing makes me feel alive. As if this fire is a reason to be alive. A need I have been denying. I need more, like a drug. Perhaps Theoden was right to separate me.

I am about to speak when a young boy runs into the hall. Legolas straightens up and away from me as the child, holding a sword, comes to us. I hate the child for interrupting. Then he speaks.

"It is the Lord Aragorn! He is riding to the gate!"

~Line Break~

Hey there! Sorry it has been so long, I really have no excuse. In the movies it looks like a day has passed since Aragorn fell, so that gave me a nice way to introduce a bit romance. So what did you think?

Oh, and I've been thinking of going totally AU during the Battle of Helm's Deep. I can't decide, so I'd appreciate any helpful opinions. Please R&R! Seriously, please review! Thanks.