Chapter Four
Legolas' footsteps went unheeded as he passed through the house of the healers, his soft feet passing noiselessly across the stone floors. He could see Ëmara's figure dimly in the pale moonlight spilling through the open windows. As he approached he could sense her body tense slightly, as though she had sensed his presence in the darkness. Something was amiss and he noticed it instantly- she slept with her eyelids shut, as mortal men would. It struck him for a moment as he reasoned that she must have very little fear of attack or surprise; she had no reason for vigilance.
"I know you are awake…there is no need to keep your eyes closed." He watched her intently as she remained motionless at first and then, slowly, her eyelids rose as the moonlight scrambled to reach her gray eyes. He could see that the mask was no longer clouding her irises and the clear depths he had before perceived were now staring at him and beckoning him to enter into their recesses.
"Who are you, elf?" She spoke the word "elf" with disdain, as though the noble race was dirt beneath her feet and hardly worth the effort of her speaking its name. Her voice was raspy and low, as he perceived she was trying to keep it hidden.
"I am Legolas, son of King Thranduil of Mirkwood."
"What do you want?" She parted her lips and spoke audibly, betraying her true health as Legolas undoubtedly recognized traces of the stranger's voice he and Feânin had heard in the forest. Deciding not to put her in a defensive position, he elected to question her subversively.
"What happened to your leg?" Her eyes quickly narrowed as a flame seemed to erupt in their gray depths. She inclined her head slightly away from him and her voice fell thickly in tightening atmosphere:
"Aren't you more curious to know what I was doing in your forest and how I knew of your intentions to attack me?" Legolas remained silent as she continued to bore through him with her eyes. There was no need for him to speak, for she could see the thoughts of his mind, the confusion and helplessness inclined her to think him somewhat of a weaker being. The flame of indignation subsided presently, giving way to a dull glow of curiosity as she spoke with a more subdued tone:
"However, to answer your question…I met a precipice overlooking a lake and my horse…did not agree with my choice to jump into it." Legolas was taken aback at first but he quickly dismissed his initial thought; why would and elf wish to harm herself?
"Why in the name of Arda would you desire to do so?" Her eyes closed as she silently whispered:
"I want to die…I no longer have the desire to live anymore." Legolas shuddered slightly as he watched her shadowed face and noticed a single, silver tear catch the moonlight on its journey across her cheek. Ëmara could no longer concentrate on his mind as her own thoughts pulled her back to Lorien and Dîniath, before the time of evil, before she had discovered…
"Your brother is coming to retrieve you back to Lorien." She suddenly turned her eyes on him.
"Leomë?"
"Yes. He is very worried about you and is making full haste to come here. He shall arrive two days hence." She quickly sat up and Legolas noticed that she was not ill at all, merely wasted away into a smaller form than most elf maidens. Her hands fumbled with something around her neck, which he soon recognized as a small leather pouch. From within the sack she produced a tiny jewel, cut in the shape of a seven-point star, which she rolled across her palm and stared at intently. The smallish orb caught a beam of moonlight and revealed a cloudy purple center which seemed to be tossing about as though in a storm. As though it had decided something for her she closed her palm quickly and returned the stone to her pouch.
"I must leave." Ëmara threw the blankets off of her legs and tentatively touched the bandage around her right leg. However, when she placed it on the floor and tried to force weight onto it, her leg buckled and she fell back into a sitting position on the edge of the bed.
"You cannot leave." Legolas placed his hand upon her shoulder, meaning to merely indicate that her leg was not fit to travel upon. No sooner had he done this than she quickly rolled her shoulder and his arm was thrown away by a power he could not see. She turned her icy stare to him, allowing him time to make the connection between her motion and his reaction. A confused look crossed his face as he rolled his shoulder to relieve the pain her throw had caused.
"Did…did you do that?" Ëmara nodded as her eyes roved over his face, watching the struggle behind his dark blue irises. After sitting for a few minutes in silence, she opened her palm towards a small cup sitting on the table next to her bed.
"I have an ancient strength, a power drawn from everything living." The cup began to pivot slightly and then, with a fluid motion, rose from the table and flew gently into the palm of her open hand. Legolas watched with amazed confusion as she set the cup down and turned her fingertips towards his hand. "You see I can control all matter and as a side affect, being so closely related to nature has afforded me the ability to see into the minds and thoughts of all beings." His arm involuntarily rose from his side and was drawn towards her outstretched palm.
"How…h-how…where…"
"Shhhhh." His fingertips pressed against hers and slowly, coldness began to pass through his body that flowed from her hand. Legolas closed his eyes as he felt a blackness creeping into his mind, clearing it of all thoughts but those that dwelled on Ëmara. For a fleeting instant, he could see the thoughts of her mind…pain, confusion, anger, hatred, love, and fear passed before his eyes so quickly he had hardly the time to register one image before it passed to the next.
"You see my thoughts when I allow it." Legolas forced his eyes open and struggled to pull his hand away from hers. Ëmara's power still held sway over his motion and would not allow him to move. She could remember her first healer, Yavanna, and how she had spoken constantly of Legolas. As Ëmara studied the recesses of his dark blue eyes, she searched for images of Yavanna, of which she could find none. She released him and allowed him to recover.
"Why…why is your skin so cold?" He asked, rubbing his hands together in an attempt to shake the iciness that was clinging to his fingertips. She shuddered and hugged her shoulders, ignoring his question and attempting to stand again, this time remaining on her feet with the aid of a nearby chair.
"I must leave. Believe that you cannot stop me. My brother must not find me." She lurched forward to be met by Legolas' outstretched arms, pressing against her shoulders and preventing her advancement.
"Out of my way." She commanded in a voice that left no room for question that she would harm him if it came to it. He did not budge and with a thrust of her arms, she threw him nearly across the room, knocking him against a small bookshelf and toppling it over. Ëmara struggled towards the door, leaning heavily on her left leg and using the wall as a guide.
Legolas was quick to his feet and once again barred her exiting, blocking the door with his body as an existential force held control of his actions. Something was moving him to action, which before had remained dormant within his body; Ëmara had stirred something deeply hidden in his breast, something he dared not approach or explain.
"Persistent elf, it shall be your death!" She threw her outstretched palm towards him, knocking him so hard he was thrown against the opposite wall and crumpled into a ball as he hit the floor. Ëmara did not pity him; her own indifference to all things living had been exemplified by his stubbornness. There was however, an odd sensation of slight regret for her action. The thought was quickly forgotten however, as she realized her moment to escape into darkness. She stumbled towards the door and made her way into the night air, tears suppressed behind her eyes as the pain in her legs became hardly bearable and the blackness of the night pulled upon her heart.