He had not forgotten the agreement he had made with Araorë regarding the visitation of Enberaidien. His mind had been made up however, he had to know if communication was possible. Hadn't she spoken with him?
{Had she known to whom she was speaking?}
"I doesn't matter." He spoke aloud to no one as he passed hurriedly down the hallway towards the hidden door. He had to try. Perhaps it was foolish to think that she would remember him, he couldn't even be sure if she had really seen him when she had spoken. He had to know.
The tapestry, this time he recognized it to be one of a set depicting the battles for the control of the Simirils, still concealed the tiny wooden door. There was no noise coming from within and Legolas guessed her to be asleep.
Upon opening the door he was surprised to find the room utterly abandoned, save the same short bed and the resting figure upon it. There were no candles glowing in the room and the only source of light struggling to come in was through a very narrow chink on the left wall. The beam of sunlight streamed across the bed and fell upon the woman's chest and legs, leaving her face in the dark.
At first, Legolas thought to turn about and leave, in fear of having to restrain her by himself. Thoughts of the jagged scar lining Laifen's throat gave him an uncomfortable feeling as he tried to swallow. However, he came to slowly realize how frightened she herself must be- and would he not also strike a stranger upon waking in a place he did not know to people who did not speak his language? He resolutely stepped into the darkness, closing the door and the last of the comforting hallway light out of the room.
In the blackness his vision failed him slightly as his ears became sensitive to every breath the woman drew. Somehow he knew she was not sleeping, he sensed that instead, she was waiting. Waiting for what he could not say, perhaps for him to come closer to the bed, or perhaps for him to speak. He drew his tongue across his dry lips and spoke from his safe hold near the door.
"My name is Legolas, I…I have come to speak with you." He had often thought the Westron Tongue archaic in his youth, but now that it was the only weapon standing between his unguarded flesh and the fervor of madness, he held with a much greater respect. The words fell flatly in the darkness, and no response issued from the steadily breathing woman. He felt his throat seize up as he made a motion to move nearer and thought the better of it, sensing her take a quick gasp of air.
"I mean you no harm my Lady. You…you spoke to me earlier, do you remember?" Again, silence. His eyes shifted uneasily towards the door and for a moment he considered leaving, but his mind would not let him rest and he knew it.
"I am going to step over towards the bed. Is that alright?" Nothing. He moved his feet slowly, feeling the tension as his mind screamed in protest. The woman on the bed made no motion, although her breathing had become noticeably shallow. He came just to the foot of the bed and placed his hands, palms outward, into the light from the chink.
"See? I bring you no harm." Everything happened so quickly he hardly had time to think- but before the words had left his mouth, her arms shot forward and grabbed him around his wrists. Using his body as leverage, she pulled herself forward and into the light. The stream of sunlight caught her eyes and Legolas noticed that there was nothing behind her pale irises save fear- bottomless, black terror.
"I can see you." She was so close to his face that a mere whisper separated them. Her eyes seemed to widen and for a moment, Legolas felt as though she was looking straight through him to the door behind. Her hands released his wrists and came up to his face, holding his head in the palms of her hands. She pressed her thumbs against the soft flesh of his cheekbones and pulled his eyes level with hers. Her head cocked comically to one side before she released him altogether and laid back on the bed with a despondent sigh.