-------
Having given his ultimatum, Legolas stood, nodded once to both Frodo and Mornenêl, and left the room. The implication was clear--follow his wish, or risk his enmity.
Frodo felt as if he'd been gut-punched; he fell into the chair Legolas had just vacated, still warm, and set his head in his hands, a terrible weight falling upon him. The room seemed to darken, or maybe it was his wound again, casting him into darkness.
Mornenêl's voice sounded bleak. "Now what do we do?" Frodo had to close his eyes--he couldn't bear to see the pain on her face, see the tears creep out of the corners of her eyes.
"He has a point," Frodo felt compelled to say, though the thought of leaving her now wracked him with pain. "It will only be worse parting if we let it go longer, and I *have* to go. Also, I do not want to subject you to scorn." It was difficult to speak--how his voice could make it past the terrible ache he didn't know.
"It is no one's decision but *mine*, what I subject myself to!" Frodo jumped at the sheer *rage* in her voice--he leapt out of the chair to go to her but she rose instead, and began pacing, tears now falling freely down her cheeks. His vision blurred and he stumbled as the pain of his shoulder seemed to surge up to meet the pain in his heart.
" Mornenêl," he gasped, swaying--instantly she was at his side, helping him to sit down on the couch, her anger instantly forgotten.
"I'm sorry--are you all right? I didn't mean to direct my anger at you--it's him I'm angry with--he has not known true love--he doesn't understand what he's asking for--" she said, wrapping her arms around him and rocking him as if he were a child.
He gently put a hand to her arm to stop the rocking. "I need him--I need to be true with him, should he travel by my side." He bowed his head, the pain coming over him in waves now, and let his head rest on her shoulder. "We will wait. If he is not chosen, I will speak to him again of what you just said--if he hates me then, it will not matter--it will not endanger the mission. I know he would not jeopardize that, even for you. We can continue our relationship, such as it is." He fell silent, loathe to go on.
She prompted him. "And if he is chosen?"
Frodo drew in a shaky breath, trying hard not to cry. "Then I must follow his wish. Nothing can compromise this, Mornenel, absolutely nothing. For the good of Middle Earth."
She released him and moved away, and he bit back a cry of anguish at the absence of the feel of her.
"Then you'd best leave me now. Elrond has already told Legolas he will go. He is only waiting for the scouts to return to make the final announcement." Her voice was cold, her arms crossed over herself as if to hold herself together, and there was a fire of fury about her. Frodo loved her even more, seeing the strength, the passion. He felt like he was tearing in twain.
He tried to form the words, to seal their fates and sunder their ties forever, but though his mouth worked, nothing came out, except a broken sob. Instead he forced himself to his feet, resolutely putting one in front of the other, towards the door. He longed to hold her, but if he did, he'd never be able to leave; in fact he'd kiss her then, and touch her, and begin doing exactly as Legolas demanded he cease. Better a clean break. It didn't feel clean--it felt like a fist was slowly tearing his heart up into jagged little pieces, but this was the price of bearing the Ring. He had accepted it, and he would accept everything that came with it.
Almost of itself, his hand pushed the door open.
Wishing he could close his ears to the sounds of her weeping, he pushed himself out the door, and closed it.
-----
TBC
-----
Story notes: Wow, Techdust--great review! I've never been drawn to Legolas (book *or* movie), but he's a noble character and I very much respect him. I'm much more of a hobbit fan. I know--not nearly enough Merry/Pippin in this tale, but I do what I can . . . life's been getting busy so sorry for any delays--I'll try to keep up!
Having given his ultimatum, Legolas stood, nodded once to both Frodo and Mornenêl, and left the room. The implication was clear--follow his wish, or risk his enmity.
Frodo felt as if he'd been gut-punched; he fell into the chair Legolas had just vacated, still warm, and set his head in his hands, a terrible weight falling upon him. The room seemed to darken, or maybe it was his wound again, casting him into darkness.
Mornenêl's voice sounded bleak. "Now what do we do?" Frodo had to close his eyes--he couldn't bear to see the pain on her face, see the tears creep out of the corners of her eyes.
"He has a point," Frodo felt compelled to say, though the thought of leaving her now wracked him with pain. "It will only be worse parting if we let it go longer, and I *have* to go. Also, I do not want to subject you to scorn." It was difficult to speak--how his voice could make it past the terrible ache he didn't know.
"It is no one's decision but *mine*, what I subject myself to!" Frodo jumped at the sheer *rage* in her voice--he leapt out of the chair to go to her but she rose instead, and began pacing, tears now falling freely down her cheeks. His vision blurred and he stumbled as the pain of his shoulder seemed to surge up to meet the pain in his heart.
" Mornenêl," he gasped, swaying--instantly she was at his side, helping him to sit down on the couch, her anger instantly forgotten.
"I'm sorry--are you all right? I didn't mean to direct my anger at you--it's him I'm angry with--he has not known true love--he doesn't understand what he's asking for--" she said, wrapping her arms around him and rocking him as if he were a child.
He gently put a hand to her arm to stop the rocking. "I need him--I need to be true with him, should he travel by my side." He bowed his head, the pain coming over him in waves now, and let his head rest on her shoulder. "We will wait. If he is not chosen, I will speak to him again of what you just said--if he hates me then, it will not matter--it will not endanger the mission. I know he would not jeopardize that, even for you. We can continue our relationship, such as it is." He fell silent, loathe to go on.
She prompted him. "And if he is chosen?"
Frodo drew in a shaky breath, trying hard not to cry. "Then I must follow his wish. Nothing can compromise this, Mornenel, absolutely nothing. For the good of Middle Earth."
She released him and moved away, and he bit back a cry of anguish at the absence of the feel of her.
"Then you'd best leave me now. Elrond has already told Legolas he will go. He is only waiting for the scouts to return to make the final announcement." Her voice was cold, her arms crossed over herself as if to hold herself together, and there was a fire of fury about her. Frodo loved her even more, seeing the strength, the passion. He felt like he was tearing in twain.
He tried to form the words, to seal their fates and sunder their ties forever, but though his mouth worked, nothing came out, except a broken sob. Instead he forced himself to his feet, resolutely putting one in front of the other, towards the door. He longed to hold her, but if he did, he'd never be able to leave; in fact he'd kiss her then, and touch her, and begin doing exactly as Legolas demanded he cease. Better a clean break. It didn't feel clean--it felt like a fist was slowly tearing his heart up into jagged little pieces, but this was the price of bearing the Ring. He had accepted it, and he would accept everything that came with it.
Almost of itself, his hand pushed the door open.
Wishing he could close his ears to the sounds of her weeping, he pushed himself out the door, and closed it.
-----
TBC
-----
Story notes: Wow, Techdust--great review! I've never been drawn to Legolas (book *or* movie), but he's a noble character and I very much respect him. I'm much more of a hobbit fan. I know--not nearly enough Merry/Pippin in this tale, but I do what I can . . . life's been getting busy so sorry for any delays--I'll try to keep up!