Chapter Five
So it was when Thranduil ran up to them, Candria laying lifelessly across Legolas' body in the middle of the road, her hand resting upon his heart. He gently picked her up and bid Halafin take her quickly to the castle. As for Legolas, the King himself bore his nearly dead son into the city, praying that the magic of Candria had somehow spared his son as well as herself.
Legolas awoke a mere four days later, hardly able to recall entering Greenwood or making his way back home. It was learned that in their retreat, the army of orcs had found him still alive, though wounded, and had brought him back into their mountain lairs, torturing him daily. Hardly was there a patch of skin upon his body that had not been cut or bruised. It had only been by his remaining wits, and a drunken prison guard, that he had been able to escape, stealing a rouncy and heading back towards his city.
"The only thing that kept me alive," he told his father once he had recovered strength enough to receive visitors, "was the thought of her. I was a fool not to have married her that very night I spoke with you. I mean to tell her now that I wish to marry her, to see her smile, and to hear her laugh for the rest of my days. Where is she now? Can she come hear this foolishness, for she has me speaking like a minstrel or poet!" His smile quickly faded at the look upon his father's face. With horrible solemnity he realized the cause for sadness behind Thranduil's eyes.
"Is she…?" He could hardly choke out the words, his throat tightening with every gasp of air he took. Thranduil stood at the window, staring outward into the sun lit courtyard.
"No Legolas, but she is terribly weak. She used all of her strength to save you. She will not live much longer; her life has already begun to slip away from our aid." Legolas shut his eyes in grief, tears searing their bright orbs. He knew he had to see her, and with a defiant thrust he threw the blankets of his bed off his body, the sight of his scarred legs only serving to harden his will to stand up.
"Legolas, lay down, you are far too weak to stand, much less walk. If you try you may loose the use of your legs altogether." Thranduil turned and put his hand upon Legolas' shoulder. Legolas shoved his arm away, pure ironclad determination glowing in his eyes. As soon as he put pressure down upon his legs, he cried out in pain and fell backwards onto the bed.
"Father please, help me. I have to see her, I have to see her…" his words were choked with the tears of conviction and grief, as he gripped the post of the bed to attempt standing again. Thranduil looked down at his prostrate son, his clear blue eyes paralyzed with agony. He saw Legolas struggling to stand, knowing that he was risking never walking again for the chance to see Candria one last time.
"Come, I shall take you to her." With that, Thranduil, King of Greenwood, picked up his son and carried him to the chamber where Candria lay.
Arien seemed to hide her face, for even though the windows were all open and the curtains drawn back, no light touched the floor of the room. It was here, on a large wooden framed bed, that Candria, Lady of Lorien had been laid. Her figure seemed smaller and more fragile, and as Thranduil set Legolas down in the chair next to her bed, he noticed that the time was drawing near for her to depart from the world. Thranduil left in respect for his son, knowing that Legolas wished to see her alone.
As for Legolas, his sadness consumed him. Candria's shallow breathing and her pale countenance filled him with sorrow and pain. He reached out and picked up her hand, the warmth now gone, replaced by the coldness of death. She stirred at his touch, and after a moment, her eyes fluttered open and looked over at him.
"Legolas…" the word was hardly a whisper, and faded on the air as she smiled faintly.
"Why…? What…?" Legolas could form no words, his confusion at the absurdity that she must die to have saved his own life preyed upon his mind. She remained smiling, the rosy color in her cheeks now gone, but the small flame of blue still burning behind her eyes.
"Why did you leave me?" The question was not in anger, she needed her final doubts absolved, the kind of comfort which only his explanation could provide. He looked down at her hand, where her delicate fingertips lay shaking slightly with cold and he himself began to feel the same coldness press into his own hand.
"Father told me, on the night that I asked for your hand, that…" as he was about to say the words, he realized how selfish and pithy they sounded. He looked up into her eyes, their blue irises beginning to fade in the waning sunlight.
"The reasons were selfish and foolish. I have been punished for my decision, unjustly so, that I am tortured to see you in such a state." He could bear it no longer, and with the grief of a child, without the dignity of a man, he leaned forward until his face pressed the back of her hand, and wept. He felt a slight pressure on his palm as she squeezed it softly, the only comfort she could offer.
"Forgive me Candria, for I was a fool." He spoke through his tears. "I could not face this world without your touch, and my selfishness has given me bitter respite; that now I should face this world alone." Legolas looked into her clear blue eyes, she shook her head slightly, and spoke in a barely audible whisper:
"Do not blame yourself. Let me die knowing that you will not grieve for things that have past and make no difference now. Let me die now, looking into your eyes, for there can I see all of my happiness, and all of our children. I do not regret giving you my life, for I know that I shall live forever inside of you." She shut her eyes, and Legolas picked himself up off the chair and lay down next to her in the bed. He wrapped his arm around her, tracing the lines of her face in his mind, wanting to remember every graceful curve exactly as she had been.
Candria could feel his body next to hers, although she could not feel the warmth or his touch. She could see the light growing dimmer in front of her eyes, her own time waning into eternity. With all the strength she had left, she picked up her hand and touched Legolas' heart, the rapid beating slowing as she gave him peace and comfort. She realized her time was come, and with a quiet whisper, she spoke to Legolas for the last time.
"Legolas…promise me…" she paused, her next words difficult as her own tears began to fall from her eyes, "promise me you will always carry my heart with you. I shall always be with you, even when this winter has passed into memory…I love you so much." He lifted his head over hers, staring into her eyes. As he curled a wisp of her hair that had fallen in front of her face around his finger, he replied:
"I promise Candria. I love you too." He bent down and pressed his lips to hers, feeling her own lips rise up to his for a moment, and then fall back, motionless.
So it was, that that winter passed into spring, the new life somehow less green and beautiful to Legolas, the flowers less lovely without her there. As each year moved endlessly on, the memory of Candria became less painful to him, but as each winter came, that same feeling of sadness would wash over him from time to time. He occupied his time with hunting and riding, pleasures that brought little joy, but took away his sorrowful thoughts for a while.
It was often said that the prince of Mirkwood (for thus had Greenwood the Great been renamed) carried around a trinket of great value to him. It hung about his neck, concealed in the folds of his clothes and pressed next to his heart. He allowed no one to see it, or touch it, a precious item of which he spoke to no one.
There hung Candria's necklace, the only item of hers that he had kept. The flame within the red orb, now the fire of Candria's heart, stayed constant throughout the rest of Legolas' life, reminding him of a love he had lost, and yet somehow not lost, a love that would live near his heart forever.
The End
So it was when Thranduil ran up to them, Candria laying lifelessly across Legolas' body in the middle of the road, her hand resting upon his heart. He gently picked her up and bid Halafin take her quickly to the castle. As for Legolas, the King himself bore his nearly dead son into the city, praying that the magic of Candria had somehow spared his son as well as herself.
Legolas awoke a mere four days later, hardly able to recall entering Greenwood or making his way back home. It was learned that in their retreat, the army of orcs had found him still alive, though wounded, and had brought him back into their mountain lairs, torturing him daily. Hardly was there a patch of skin upon his body that had not been cut or bruised. It had only been by his remaining wits, and a drunken prison guard, that he had been able to escape, stealing a rouncy and heading back towards his city.
"The only thing that kept me alive," he told his father once he had recovered strength enough to receive visitors, "was the thought of her. I was a fool not to have married her that very night I spoke with you. I mean to tell her now that I wish to marry her, to see her smile, and to hear her laugh for the rest of my days. Where is she now? Can she come hear this foolishness, for she has me speaking like a minstrel or poet!" His smile quickly faded at the look upon his father's face. With horrible solemnity he realized the cause for sadness behind Thranduil's eyes.
"Is she…?" He could hardly choke out the words, his throat tightening with every gasp of air he took. Thranduil stood at the window, staring outward into the sun lit courtyard.
"No Legolas, but she is terribly weak. She used all of her strength to save you. She will not live much longer; her life has already begun to slip away from our aid." Legolas shut his eyes in grief, tears searing their bright orbs. He knew he had to see her, and with a defiant thrust he threw the blankets of his bed off his body, the sight of his scarred legs only serving to harden his will to stand up.
"Legolas, lay down, you are far too weak to stand, much less walk. If you try you may loose the use of your legs altogether." Thranduil turned and put his hand upon Legolas' shoulder. Legolas shoved his arm away, pure ironclad determination glowing in his eyes. As soon as he put pressure down upon his legs, he cried out in pain and fell backwards onto the bed.
"Father please, help me. I have to see her, I have to see her…" his words were choked with the tears of conviction and grief, as he gripped the post of the bed to attempt standing again. Thranduil looked down at his prostrate son, his clear blue eyes paralyzed with agony. He saw Legolas struggling to stand, knowing that he was risking never walking again for the chance to see Candria one last time.
"Come, I shall take you to her." With that, Thranduil, King of Greenwood, picked up his son and carried him to the chamber where Candria lay.
Arien seemed to hide her face, for even though the windows were all open and the curtains drawn back, no light touched the floor of the room. It was here, on a large wooden framed bed, that Candria, Lady of Lorien had been laid. Her figure seemed smaller and more fragile, and as Thranduil set Legolas down in the chair next to her bed, he noticed that the time was drawing near for her to depart from the world. Thranduil left in respect for his son, knowing that Legolas wished to see her alone.
As for Legolas, his sadness consumed him. Candria's shallow breathing and her pale countenance filled him with sorrow and pain. He reached out and picked up her hand, the warmth now gone, replaced by the coldness of death. She stirred at his touch, and after a moment, her eyes fluttered open and looked over at him.
"Legolas…" the word was hardly a whisper, and faded on the air as she smiled faintly.
"Why…? What…?" Legolas could form no words, his confusion at the absurdity that she must die to have saved his own life preyed upon his mind. She remained smiling, the rosy color in her cheeks now gone, but the small flame of blue still burning behind her eyes.
"Why did you leave me?" The question was not in anger, she needed her final doubts absolved, the kind of comfort which only his explanation could provide. He looked down at her hand, where her delicate fingertips lay shaking slightly with cold and he himself began to feel the same coldness press into his own hand.
"Father told me, on the night that I asked for your hand, that…" as he was about to say the words, he realized how selfish and pithy they sounded. He looked up into her eyes, their blue irises beginning to fade in the waning sunlight.
"The reasons were selfish and foolish. I have been punished for my decision, unjustly so, that I am tortured to see you in such a state." He could bear it no longer, and with the grief of a child, without the dignity of a man, he leaned forward until his face pressed the back of her hand, and wept. He felt a slight pressure on his palm as she squeezed it softly, the only comfort she could offer.
"Forgive me Candria, for I was a fool." He spoke through his tears. "I could not face this world without your touch, and my selfishness has given me bitter respite; that now I should face this world alone." Legolas looked into her clear blue eyes, she shook her head slightly, and spoke in a barely audible whisper:
"Do not blame yourself. Let me die knowing that you will not grieve for things that have past and make no difference now. Let me die now, looking into your eyes, for there can I see all of my happiness, and all of our children. I do not regret giving you my life, for I know that I shall live forever inside of you." She shut her eyes, and Legolas picked himself up off the chair and lay down next to her in the bed. He wrapped his arm around her, tracing the lines of her face in his mind, wanting to remember every graceful curve exactly as she had been.
Candria could feel his body next to hers, although she could not feel the warmth or his touch. She could see the light growing dimmer in front of her eyes, her own time waning into eternity. With all the strength she had left, she picked up her hand and touched Legolas' heart, the rapid beating slowing as she gave him peace and comfort. She realized her time was come, and with a quiet whisper, she spoke to Legolas for the last time.
"Legolas…promise me…" she paused, her next words difficult as her own tears began to fall from her eyes, "promise me you will always carry my heart with you. I shall always be with you, even when this winter has passed into memory…I love you so much." He lifted his head over hers, staring into her eyes. As he curled a wisp of her hair that had fallen in front of her face around his finger, he replied:
"I promise Candria. I love you too." He bent down and pressed his lips to hers, feeling her own lips rise up to his for a moment, and then fall back, motionless.
So it was, that that winter passed into spring, the new life somehow less green and beautiful to Legolas, the flowers less lovely without her there. As each year moved endlessly on, the memory of Candria became less painful to him, but as each winter came, that same feeling of sadness would wash over him from time to time. He occupied his time with hunting and riding, pleasures that brought little joy, but took away his sorrowful thoughts for a while.
It was often said that the prince of Mirkwood (for thus had Greenwood the Great been renamed) carried around a trinket of great value to him. It hung about his neck, concealed in the folds of his clothes and pressed next to his heart. He allowed no one to see it, or touch it, a precious item of which he spoke to no one.
There hung Candria's necklace, the only item of hers that he had kept. The flame within the red orb, now the fire of Candria's heart, stayed constant throughout the rest of Legolas' life, reminding him of a love he had lost, and yet somehow not lost, a love that would live near his heart forever.
The End