a/n: (Promise I'll be brief~ ;o) I just wanted to thank the reading populous at large for reading my story and reviewing it- I now have something I never thought possible- a SECOND page of reviews~ wow. (Can my expectations bottom out or what?) Thank you to all~ (esp. Jackie- ya' know who you are :oD) Without further ado:
Chapter Ten
Yavanna's intense green eyes watched with reserved relief as Ëmara sped away from the palace. She had seen Legolas' intent in his eyes but the news of Ëmara's disgrace and her disappearance would see to the ruin of all his flightiest fancies. She watched as the bay disappeared into the folds of the forest, lost in an instant amongst the midnight's shadows.
'It is for the best, perhaps Legolas will forget her and the wicked enchantments with which she preyed upon his heart.' Yavanna waited a few moments, watching the spot where Ëmara had disappeared and wondering if she would reappear. When she was certain that the bay would not return from the forests, she stood up from her windowseat and made her way out into the darkened hallway.
Yavanna had meant to search in Ëmara's room, jealousy impregnating images of love tokens and trinkets intended for Legolas, which, if she had not been blinded by her obsession, would have seemed ridiculous. Her love for Legolas was a plague upon her heart and her very life had been consumed by it. She paused however, noticing two letters propped against a vase at the entryway to the Great Hall.
'It is as I expected, both addressed to Legolas in the hand of Ëmara!' Yavanna gripped the letters as though she would rip them in half, then thinking the better of it; she quickly secreted them away within the folds of her robe. She calmly walked back towards her room, bursting to know the contents of the letters.
Yavanna entered her room and locked the door, first making sure that her roaming had awakened no one throughout the hallway as she pressed her ear to the oaken door. There was no sound throughout the palace; her wanderings had not disturbed any of the dreaming elves.
At her bedside candle she removed the seal from the larger letter, obviously a narrative for it contained several complete pages of Ëmara's flowing hand. She dug through the letter eagerly, her eyes widening as the truth of Ëmara's past was brought into sharp focus.
'And so the enigma of Ëmara is solved! What a loathsome and undeserving creature she turned out to be!' Yavanna's complacency had given way to a sort of relieved satisfaction mixed with an acute sense of her own superiority with regards to Ëmara's position now in Middle Earth.
The second letter was more of a puzzle, for it held two sentences, addressed to Legolas and ran as thus:
You need not have told me, for I knew all the time. Believe that possession would have ended in nothing but sorrow.
Yavanna read the note through thrice, each time wondering at the latter of the two sentences…had Legolas made any proposals to Ëmara? 'Had she reason to think he would- she speaks as though she knew his very thoughts! And the first statement… 'You need not have told me…I knew all the time.' Does she speak of his love…or of other things kept secret from me?' Yavanna resolved to say nothing of the letters; her own survival was dependent upon marrying Legolas- she had given up everything for him. At one time she had been a student of the ancient history of the elves, she had pursued with interest the origins of the Eldar and the stories of the Valar and their mighty deeds. All had been lost upon a tiring sea of dressing suitably for balls and festivities to catch the eye of the Prince. When his intentions had been made known, she had taken a position in the House of the Healers, working in a class below her own but humble enough to provide a sense of purpose to the life of a Queen. Now, when all was within sight, the elven lady from the bowels of Angband had been thrust betwixt them, disrupting all the days which should have passed in merriment before their wedding.
Yavanna felt hot tears of passion roll down her cheeks as she wondered if Legolas still cared anything for her. All of her heart had been poured into thoughts of him, to think that her affections were being met with reproach and even loathing, was too much to bear. Suddenly her mind began to manifest falsities of Legolas' feigning his love for her, untruths which grew under the tears of her eyes as the night wore on. And so she passed the night at her bed stand, sleeping not a wink as she stared into the depths of her candle's orange flame.
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Morning came slowly with the passing of the candle into nothing but rivers of wax running from a center of blackened wick. Yavanna was discovered this way by her maidservant who, being very much distressed at the sight of her mistress, ran to fetch a doctor from the healing house. The news that she had been taken ill quickly spread throughout the whole of the kingdom, for there could be but one reason for Yavanna's sickness- an illness of the heart.
When news of her plight reached Legolas, he had just resolved after a restless night of tossing about, to confront Ëmara regarding his thoughts about her. He was found in the hallways, still dressed in informal attire and pacing to and fro while speaking with himself in a vexed manner.
"My Lord." Feânin, who had been one of the first to know of Yavanna's illness, being the son of a healer, bowed shortly to Legolas, who hardly seemed to take notice of him.
"What is it Feânin?" His voice denoted a slight aggravation at being interrupted, however, Feânin's next words stopped his pacing short and brought grave lines upon his countenance.
"The Lady Yavanna has taken ill…" It was all he needed to say; the oddity of an elf becoming ill was more talked of in stories than in reality. Legolas knew immediately the reason for her malady; however, as to how she had come about her sadness he was at a complete loss. His only thought was to go to her and see what could be done.
As Feânin and Legolas made their way quickly towards Yavanna's bedchambers, they were stopped once more, this time by a stable hand who reported that Legolas' bay mare, Celebruin, was missing from the stables.
"Yet another piece of unlucky news! The sun has hardly breached the horizon before trouble has beset us from all sides!" Legolas sighed and resolved to search for Celebruin after he attended to Yavanna.
When he entered her bedchamber, he found the room filled with people all crowded about her bed and speaking in low whispers, sometimes to each other and often to themselves. Legolas recognized them all as healers or those who made medicine a practice, he even noticed Lord Ilian, who took medicinal science as a mere hobby, feverently discussing Yavanna's illness with another elf.
"Gentlemen, may I ask to see the Lady Yavanna alone?" Legolas was obliged and slowly the crowd filtered out, leaving him standing alone at the foot of Yavanna's bed. She looked quite pale and lifeless, the unsteady rising and falling of her chest was the only motion that betrayed her status as a living creature.
Legolas was struck to the core as he watched her emerald eyes, once so full of vivacity and love now clouded over and glassy- as lifeless as the eyes of a doll. He rounded the bed and knelt by her side, trying to capture her eyes which seemed to pass right through him.
"Yavanna?…Yavanna it is Legolas…I'm here Yavanna." It was clear she was suffering as silver tears fell from her unblinking eyes onto her pillow at the sound of his voice. Yet as to the reasons for her grief he could guess not, surely she had not discovered the thoughts of his heart with regards to Ëmara? He had kept those well hidden and had spoken of them to no one, not even to his closest friend.
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He watched her intently for hours, talking soothingly to her and enclosing her cold hand within his fingers, hoping by some chance that she might recover from her illness. Yavanna did not speak, she hardly stirred save only to breathe and occasionally close her eyes slowly.
After some time he arose and took a turn about her room, wondering at what he could do for her. It was then that he spotted the two letters lying in a pool of wax upon her bed stand. He thought their appearance curious and even from a distance he could discern that the handwriting was unknown and uncommon of the elves of Mirkwood.
At a first glance, the writing appeared to be of an Eldar dialectic manner, as he scanned the letter for a signature, the answer became quite clear as to why the writing was so elegant and ancient. As to why Yavanna held these letters, Legolas was once again at a loss. Natural curiosity overpowered him however, and thoughts of Yavanna were lost as he set into the narrative of Ëmara's life.
At the conclusion he found himself rereading certain passages to be sure he had not been mistaken in what his eyes had read- could the curse truly be real? All that Morgoth had foreseen had come to pass, was it false hope that allowed Legolas to believe that Ëmara might be spared?
For the first time in his life what he truly wanted and what his heart desired and needed became very clear to him. He could not explain nor could he justify what he was feeling in the core of his being, his mind now had but one object…Ëmara. Something inside of him was stirred to life; something that had long lay dormant in the recesses of his heart.
Without thought for anything but that which he desired, he made his way quickly towards the door, forgetting his title and his duties, forgetting all those things, which until now had seemed so important.
'What am I doing?' His mind was still holding the last restraints against his motions as his eyes returned to the still form of Yavanna. 'Why am I leaving her…why am I leaving Yavanna when I know Ëmara cares nothing at all for me?' Thoughts were passing so quickly his eyes began to spin as the room before him lurched and pivoted before refocusing again upon Yavanna. Only it was not Yavanna, the hair was too dark and the complexion too ruddy. 'Ëmara.' Legolas turned once again to the door and threw it open to find his father blocking the exit, a look of severe anger twisting his complacent face into a furious glare.