Title: I' Mal Lasse(The Golden Leaf)
Chapter 2: Memory
Author: Ista of the Dreamers
Rating: G-PG . . . I guess
Disclaimer: I do not own Legolas or any of the other characters J.R.R. Tolkien created in the Lord of the Rings.....darn. But the character of Kira Aparathon is mine.
Stuff: The usual, guys! Feedback/comments/ reviews are welcome either by email or on ff.net Just tell me what you think! :) Thank you for reading this!

I' Mal Lasse(The Golden Leaf)

I did not know how long I would be able to keep up my strength until, one day, when the young man opened his eyes slowly and gave a thin smile.

"I remember you," he whispered.

"Do you?" I asked faintly, bringing a damp cloth to his forehead. "You do not see me as a frightful orc?"

"Orc?" he asked in confusion. "No, I know nothing of orcs."

"You spoke of many creatures in your dreams; creatures I have never heard of. Goblins, elves, hobbits, and wizards, though I do not know what they are."

"Nor do I," he said softly, bringing his warm hand to my cheek. "But does that matter now? The fever seems to have left me, and I feel refreshed . . ." His eyes narrowed. "But you look worn with hunger and fatigue. Will you not rest?"

"No," I shook my head, my ears ringing with dizziness, and I tried to stand up, but all fell into darkness.

His words sounded distant to my ears, the shadows around my vision dimmed, and I saw no more.


I awoke to a faint humming, soft, yet clear and strong, and very cheerful. It was the type of sound that comes before spring mornings, summer nights, and cocoa in winter. Then I smelled food: wild berries, fresh bread, soft cheese. Had someone prepared a feast for me?

"You're awake!" came the stranger's voice who wasn't a stranger anymore. He looked less pale, his eyes were vibrant, and he was wearing a new tunic and cloak. He knelt beside me and took my hand as I had once held his.

"I wish to sincerely thank you," he said, "for saving my life and taking me in. It must have been difficult to choose what to do."

"No, it wasn't," said I, sitting up slowly and feeling the sunbeams through the window. "You might think this strange, but it was the easiest decision I have ever made."

He smiled and then touched his forehead slightly. "I have just realized that through all the times we have spoken to each other, I do not know your name."

"One name for another," said I, trying to rekindle his memory. "Tell me your name first."

"Ah, but that is not fair," he said. "Tell me your name, and then, when I can remember, you shall have mine to use as you wish."

"Kira," I said. "Kira Aparathon."

"Kira," he repeated. "My only friend. I shall be forever grateful to you." He then smiled, and his smile made the cold day warm for me, and forever lit my home after that. He vowed to repay my kindness, and so he helped me gather food, cook, clean, explore and dream. Most of all, he helped me to dream.

Never again did he experience the terrible visions and nightmares as he had when he was feverish, and his head no longer ached. Though sometimes, on cold nights, I would see him turn in his sleep, and wondered what he could be dreaming.

Those were wonderful times for me because for the first time in fifteen years, I had someone to talk to who was smart and kind. The stranger, my stranger, was what I needed in my life to renew it. I was the happiest I had been since I was ten and in my mother's arms. I realized that I was no longer a child.

The days passed endlessly and the winds changed. Spring was in the air, and with spring, my stranger became more cheerful and lively. L.G. We had contemplated the initials of his name for a long time, but finally gave up. I told him that it did not matter if his name was correct or not, but I had to call him something besides 'sir'.

"One day I'll have a name to place on the tip of my tongue as well as yours," he told me. "It will come in time."

He was quite an excellent cook and a gardner as well. I teased him frequently that he had been the royal chef to a king far away, or a royal gardner. My fruits and vegetables fared better under his care, and the flowers bloomed brighter and sweeter when he watered, and whispered to them in his soft voice.

"I don't need roses," I told him one morning. "You do not have to dirty your fine hands to please me."

He smiled, almost being sarcastic. "If your eyelashes were seeds, I would plant them one by one to sprout flowers more beautiful than a thousand roses, with a smell so sweet, the bees would leave their honey for all children to steal."

"You sweet talk me soft words, sir," I said. "But I fear for them. I fear for the world in which we live. I keep remembering those horrible dreams you had, the terrible wars-"

"Forget them," he said. "I will explore my past on my own, and Kira-"

"Yes?" My eyes flashed to his, just as soft brown, two shades blending and coursing through my garden. He held me close, but I pulled back, running away. I couldn't accept what I was doing and how I was doing it. This was happening too fast. I couldn't be falling in love . . .

"Kira!" he called to me. "I'm sorry. I was forgetting myself."

"Forgetting yourself?" I mumbled. "So was I if I tried to pretend that we aren't in love."

"Speak to me!" he cried. "Do you love me?"

So many thoughts raced through my mind then, and my whole body shook with emotion.

"I love you!" came his voice on a distant breeze.

My lips quivered under glass tears that had never fallen upon my cheeks before in this time. They were tears of joy.

"Do you love me?"

I saw him in the wind. I turned around.

"I always have," came the words that tumbled from my lips as we ran to each other and embraced.

**********************

I awoke one night unexpectedly to see my stranger sitting by the fire in deep thought. I did not wish to disturb him, so I walked outside for a while.

It was warmer outside than in the house, and it was breezy. Pale orange dust drifted across the horizon where the sun had just set, soft and mellow, when the cry of insects brought me to a slow, dreaming walk. The moon was palely shining now, and a fleeting thought echoed its way into my hopeless mind. Lavender, Lilac, Lily: These were pretty names for pretty girls, young maidens of magical kings, but my stranger needed something purer than a flower, mystical in sound and timbre. Like the whisper of frost in autumn, should his name resound on my lips: All the more loving, all the more for him to be loved. A flutter of falling shadows, a sprinkle of studding stars chimed like bells and distant music. The wind rose to greet me in the air, and my hair blew across my forehead. A deep rumbling noise came crawling over the trees.

Remember . . .

I cowered down, my cries lost in the wind, covering my face from the sudden shrieking storm, and then, through the screaming rage of thunder, a single voice roared in triumph.

"Legolas!"

Thunder exploded in the sky, rippling across the grass, pounding my ear drums. I screamed, running to him where he had shouted, and back to my hut. He needed me, and I needed him now, more than ever. I saw his figure come from the doorway and into my arms. Instantly, I felt enveloped in his warmth, the swirling breeze lifting his cloak into the air.

"Legolas," he said again in my ear.

I shook my head in confusion.

"Legolas," he said, "is my name."

"Legolas."

As we kissed, a spark of lightning struck a tree in the forest, flame trickling down its branches, felling it, and the rest burning to ashes, to dust, to earth.

"Legolas," I said happily. "You've remembered."

He shook his head, the wind dying to nothing but a breeze like before in rebuke, and I could see how tired he was.

"I remember nothing except that first name," he said with a tight jaw. "Forgive me for not giving you the other initial."

"G.," I said. "It will come to you in time, Legolas."

*End of Chapter 2*

I should have the next chapter up soon! :)
-Ista