CHAPTER 27 - Gold and Grey


Legolas leaned against the wooden table, close to where Gimli the dwarf toiled away within his forge. He and others of his kin spent their days working within the place they had wrought to be used as a smithy, to serve the meager community dwelling hidden on the isle of Tolfalas.

"And so, Faramir refused to come?" the dwarf was asking, beating a reddened piece of metal placed onto a blackened anvil.

Legolas nodded, his mien saddened. "You know the rest."

"Lad, twas not your fault, nor is it your burden to bear. There was nothing more you could have done," Gimli shook his head.

There was silence again, the beating of the hammer the only sound lashing against the dark torchlit walls.

"Am I a fool, Gimli?" The elf lowered his head and sighed. "Perhaps the others are not mistaken. Maybe I am simply losing track of the present, lost in the past."

Gimli retrieved a pair of tongs with his gloved hands. "Ask yourself this instead. Is there usefulness in wallowing? Is there a point in denying that which keeps you going? And, looking at you, I fear this still does," the dwarf said as he regarded his friend.

"I cannot cease until I know for certain. I owe it to him Gimli, to them. Besides, what other purpose do I have now? We have nowhere to go, nothing to gain."

"That may be so," the dwarf offered.

Legolas placed a palm to his forehead. "Either way there are those who think I have gone mad lately," he smiled mirthlessly.

Gimli stopped his beating and regarded the elf. "In reference to the young creature you led here, I presume."

His friend nodded.

The dwarf shrugged. "You have ever been a strange one, so in all honesty, all of it is of little surprise to me."

"Do you also think I made a mistake?"

Gimli eyed the elf. "It may be too soon to tell. All that I know, is I have felt no ill intent coming from her. She seems honest enough. And perhaps..." he pursed his lips and looked back to his work.

"Perhaps, what?"

Gimli may have smiled under his beard. "Ah, Legolas, I will decline to pry. But all I know is that you have not seen fit to lead anyone else here, not for many a year."

The elf thoughtfully regarded the flaming metal before him, too tired to dwell on the many facets of the topic at hand. "Indeed, I have not."


Kal gaped at Eron, sleeping in the corner of her small abode. It was evening by now and she had paced back here without encountering anyone else. She was all the more grateful for it, her thought and heart clouded by her earlier unwilling encounter with the elf Tadion. She rummaged through herself and ruminated on his words for a good few hours, considering whether she should even search for his brother anymore. Kal had told him she would, but now was unsure whether she could meet that icy gaze, knowing what she did. Sighing Kal shook herself of her dread and decided to set forth and see if there was a meal to be had this evening. She looked to the pallet where she had placed her sword. Deciding she would leave the weapon behind, Kal rose and changed into a grey tunic Arwen had provided before heading down towards the wide eating hall. Accustomed to it by now, the half-orc noticed dwellers passing by. The tables were mostly empty for it was late, and there was no familiar face in sight. Kal saw no food nor anyone serving, and sighing realized she missed her chance. Oh well. She had gone far longer without and in worse circumstances, and would make do this time as well.

"Kal," she heard her name being spoken and cursed inwardly, unsure whether she could do this now, the words of the other elf insidious and still ringing in her ears. Still, she turned to face him. So be it.

"I know I said that I would find you, but-"

Legolas waved a hand in a dismissive gesture. "We have found each other," he said with half a smile, one which made her frown.

"May we speak, somewhere?" Kal asked without preamble, staring into his grey eyes.

The elf nodded, conceding thoughtfully. "Follow me."

And she did, being led up and down, and then upward again, until they reached another opening in the mountainous wall where Kal saw a platform and a seating bench of sorts. The night was black and windy, as ever seemed the case in this place. Thunder rolled in the distance, the sign of an approaching storm. Though high above the ground Kal admitted this was a good place to sit and ponder, and was thankful they could speak alone. She walked ahead of the elf towards the stone structure, but remained standing.

"What did you wish to speak about?" asked the elf, exuding a stillness which irked her.

She sighed, her shoulders brought forward. "Why have you brought me here, Legolas?" the words spilled from her though they held no bite. She looked to her feet. "So I can see how I will never suit?"

Legolas raised an eyebrow, but kept his silence.

Kal turned to face him. "So I can realize that nothing I ever do differently will matter to anyone due to my origins, and the legacy I bear?" she asked sadly, speaking more as to herself.

So this was the matter. Though wondering what had prompted this renewed doubt from her, the elf pursued to know more. "Who said your change of heart, mind and allegiance do not matter? Who said a chance of redemption does not matter?" asked Legolas softly as he stepped towards her.

"Your brother, as well as everyone else certainly seem to think so," she looked him in the eye.

His brother? What had Tadion done. The elf hesitated briefly, gathering his thought. "I see he has made his acquaintance. My brother speaks for no one but himself. And if he did find you, and threatened you, which I assume would not be far from the mark by the look in your eyes, I will speak with him again-"

"No!" Kal interrupted vehemently. "I will not hide from him, nor have him think his threat has shaken me," she said determinedly into his stare.

They regarded each other for a few moments before Legolas spoke again. "As you wish."

Kal turned towards the blackness of the world without, stepping ahead of him. "And you?"

"What of me?" the elf sighed, guessing where this was leading.

"Do you resent me as well?"

"Resent you?" he frowned.

"Aye. For what happened to your home, and your people. For your parents," Kal finished meekly, and the elf caught the unsteady waver in her voice.

He closed his eyes. Of course Tadion could not rein himself. "Is that what you think?" his voice bore a soft tone, surprising even himself as the elf went to her again, stopping where Kal was now stood with her arms crossed.

Legolas took a deep breath before speaking the words, his voice barely audible, but enough for her to hear. "I admit I did, once. I hated you, as I do all your kind. I hated what you meant, what you represented. The circumstances of our meeting helped matters little. But then..." he trailed away, and Kal did not hedge him to speak.

"But then I saw your honesty in wanting to be free of the yoke of Mordor," he continued, the words coming steady and from a place deep within. "I saw, that you possessed the ability to care for others, and was witness to your attempts in keeping them safe. I saw how much you had yet to know of the world, such as it is, and what a shame and a loss it would be for it to remain so. And for all those reasons and more I have brought you here. Because I..." he paused, and they both heard the waves and their pursuits below them, crashing against the cliffs without. "I trust, that you will find your way, and discover more of yourself. And hope that you will one day succeed in living free of the shadow of your past." It was true, and he had meant all of it. The elf said no more, waiting for her to speak in her own time.

"But still you do not trust me. Else why withhold that which others apparently know."

The night suddenly weighed heavily upon him. "If you tell me more of your meaning, I may attempt to clarify."

They faced each other closer than before, and Kal dreaded her lack of will to pull away. "I know not what it is," she admitted. "Your brother merely said it was yours to tell, prince Legolas. And that you had not told me of it."

He lowered his head at her use of his forgotten title, then eyed her briefly. Of course. But then, what did it matter? She ought to know. There would be fright, and turmoil and confusion. But it was a part of who she was. And so the elf came even closer, looking straight into her golden eyes. Ones he had never seen the likes of before, ones which held so much encased within.

"Such a strange fate..." he spoke, "...not knowing what you are," the elf said with an odd glimmer in his gaze.

He saw her brow furrowing, and Kal shook her head. "Elf, you must cease speaking in riddles to me. Either tell me everything or tell me nothing." She flinched when he reached for her hand, his calloused fingers warm against her skin.

Kal snatched her own hand away, finding her knees were not as helpful as before. She was unused to this manner of his, where before most of their physical interaction had consisted of either fighting enemies or each other.

He stared at her for a while, eyes unblinking, before once again reaching slowly to lift their joined hands together before them. His fingers interlocked with hers.

"Elf-," Kal began startled, unsure how to end this, or if she could, or whether she wanted to.

"Listen," was all he said, gaze still on hers.

She did. She tried. There was nothing but the warmth of him at first. Kal closed her eyes.

A burst of light and color, and foreign blackness gilded with light flooded her mind. She had seen this before, she...

"Green," Kal whispered after long moments, her mouth parted in wonder.

"Aye," Legolas replied in kind, watching her changing expression. "What else do you see?"

Kal was silent for a while, and the elf thought of nothing as he freely studied her features.

"It appears to be... a dwelling... a Hall," she replied then, "Wild, but hallowed. All is perfectly where it should be, and fair to look upon."

The elf focused his thought into memory, feeling the connection freely flowing; one which had left him so confused the first time it had unexpectedly opened between them.

"Lights," Kal was saying. "I have never seen such laden skies. So many of them, Legolas," she continued. "Speckles of light, trembling against the night. All so fair," the half-orc whispered.

"Yes," said he, though his gaze was on her face, on the quirk of her mouth as her lips curved into a smile. He sharply lowered his eyes but his grip on her hand remained. Chilly winds now caressed both their figures, filtering through their garments. The faraway storm at sea bellowed louder.

The elf felt her reach and grasp his arm with her other hand. He found that he could not pull away nor indeed do anything other than stay, trapped and lost as he was begun to feel before her.

Kal opened her eyes, searching his. "Did you...do this?" she asked disbelievingly.

Legolas regarded her as dark eyebrows lifted in confusion, her mouth lost of its tension, lips slightly parted. Her eyes were hazy, as if waking from a dream. He stilled when her hand reached, fingers feathering over his brow, following the lines of his face.

"That was my home, once," the elf said taking no heed of her motions, knowing the half-orc keenly felt the warmth of his hand as it pressed against hers. Just as he did. Then he felt her unease.

"How is this possible?" Kal demanded to know in astonishment, his expression showing enough to worry her. Her hand unwillingly dropped from his face.

"Have you never wondered-" he was about to offer the answer when Legolas felt a sudden and vicious lashing raging through his mind, swift pain shooting up his arm, and time stood still as he watched her widening eyes. He heard her smothered hiss before Kal began to sway on her feet before him.

"Kal!" the elf called worriedly, catching her by both arms as her knees buckled and her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

And amidst his surprise, his fear, and a novel debilitating state of worry the elf failed to understand, he saw it.

The fumes, the adamant walls. Burning. All burned its way through her, through them. The same, tormenting image he had seen in many of his nightmares through the dark daze of recent years. Except in his night terrors, he was always there, in this place, the grey, mottled hair and the White Tree on his breast; crying in agony and no matter how much the elf called to him and begged, he would never hear.

She burned red hot and without the whisper of a sound Kal fell against him. Though still in shock from what he had seen, the elf had the presence of mind to place an arm behind her knees, lifting her off her feet. He shot towards the entrance swifter than an arrow from his bow.

As he hurriedly walked to the inside of their dwelling to find Arwen, the elf looked upon the one he held to him; her head had fallen backwards, her arms hung lifelessly. She was so frail and young now to his eyes, seemingly become smaller against him. What had passed? Those last visions and images he saw, they must have been hers. Surely they were hers. Legolas listened for the thrum of life as he lifted her closer, and was relieved.

But that vision would not disperse from before his eyes. The one which had haunted his days and nights, and which he had seen anew. From her. She knew that place. She must. The very same place Aragorn would wallow and cry against in his dreams, and one the elf knew so well by now. If she knew what it was, and where it was... An unsteady flicker of hope brimmed within him, siding with the worry over her current state. The urgency of it caused his heart to hammer wildly away, his stride gaining in speed. I am here, he willed the thought to reach her, unable to hold it at bay. I am here, wild one. For as long as she needed. The bare truth of it failed to even astonish him anymore.