Ok, I know. Minor faux pas on my part. I did in fact say that 'The Great River' was next but I did so in error. In fact, I wrote 'Burned' and nearly forgot about it cos it sadly reminded me of all the cheerless relationship-type issues in my life. Call it subjective forgetfulness, or a Freudian-some-thing-or-other. I dunno. Sorry anyway. Hope you like this one (i.e. let me know if I should call a halt to the mush). I know it meanders a bit, but it is necessary…
Also, for the record: when Legolas 'slept' with Nephryn in Chapter 10 /11, I do mean literally only, i.e. they did not have sex. OK! That kind of thing is tantamount to marriage among the noble folk of Middle Earth and I'm not sure our young (three thousand years old) couple are quite ready for the nuptials. This clarification is especially for one nice reviewer who seemed to be rather shocked by the prospect…
Legolas was incensed. He stood in silence watching the door, hoping against all hope that the fiery elf-maid would return. He cursed the sun that rose to allow this day to even begin. He yearned to strike something, impart his anger onto something that would give it suitable release. He was enraged beyond anything he'd ever, in his long years, felt.
The Elf-prince strode quickly out the door, pausing only to stoop and grab his longbow and quiver. On his route, he found several Woodland elves, who directed him to where he could practice. He thanked them quietly and took off at a run toward the range.
As his feet flew faster and faster over the uneven land, he was instantly reminded of their panicked race through the mist and their narrow escape. He remembered vividly how his heart thudded wildly, though not from their fast pace. No, the mere thought of losing her to the darkness from which she'd escaped to brighten his days was enough to send his body and soul into frenzy. The painful hitch in her breath as they'd run had forced him on ever faster. The primal urge to ensure her safety had driven him far beyond his physical limits. Such was the love and devotion he felt. And now she wanted to put him through thrice that by accompanying them to Mordor!?
When he reached the range, Legolas wasted no time and his bow sang as he nocked bow after bow and struck target after target. He was well into his third round of targets when he realised he was not alone. He slowly released the arrow and lowered the bow, raising an irritated eye to see who it was that had interrupted him.
Aragorn stood tall on the crest overlooking range. He saluted briefly to the elf and then skirted down the steep slope. Legolas doubted that the man could have judged his mood from on high, but patient or no, the elf was in no mood for forced civility.
"Fair day Legolas!" Aragorn shouted across the range. Though he smiled, there was no heart behind the gesture. Legolas could tell that something had preoccupied him.
He did not reply to the greeting, instead raising the bow and sighting down the arrow. He was about to release a shot when Aragorn boldly placed a hand on the bow, forcing it down.
"What troubles you my friend?"
Aragorn peered at him over the hilt of the bow. The man would have had to be utterly sightless not to see the rage that seethed beneath the elf's cool exterior.
Legolas regarded him with ice blue eyes that dared the man to speak again.
"I am angered. At myself and at Nephryn and at the Queen of this glorious land and at Elbereth for even allowing this day to be!!"
Aragorn raised an eyebrow and frowned for rarely had he seen the eternally patient elf so riled. He did not need to guess the source of this anger.
"I take it that Nephryn spoke to you?" Aragorn murmured quietly.
Legolas looked up at him from a blank stare, realisation dawning. He set the bow down and began to prowl the ground menacingly, glancing up at the man with steely eyes.
"You knew of this cruel joke?"
Aragorn hesitated. He did not know how much Nephryn had told him so better to assume that Legolas only knew that Nephryn had to accompany the Fellowship.
"Yes, I knew. Galadriél spoke to me this morning. Believe me when I say that the decision was not an easy one to make or to carry out. No more than you, do I wish harm to befall her."
Without warning, Legolas raised a fist and pushes a long palm flat into Aragorn's chest, forcing the man back against the bole of a large oak. Legolas had superior strength and held him fast for a long time. Aragorn was not frightened, for he knew that his elf-friend would not harm him, but he was taken by surprise him. Legolas looked up and bored into his face with a long piercing scowl.
"Do not presume to think that you could even begin to understand how I feel. If you do believe to understand how I feel, why then, calling yourself my friend, would you even consider allowing Nephryn to accompany us?"
The elf clearly took the decision to bring the elf-maid with the fellowship as a personal attack. Aragorn knew that the full extent of the situation would need to be revealed soon in order to maintain any semblance of unity among the fellowship, but never had he divined that it might impact on his friendship with Legolas.
With all his strength, Aragorn pried the elf's limb away from his tunic and forced him back to a less imposing distance.
"There is more to this than is yet clear to you. Do not believe that this decision was taken to spite you or that any of it was taken lightly. It is clear to me that you have not listened fully what Nephryn has told you."
As the words registered in Legolas's mind, he recalled the sorry conversation mere hours before. Hardly a conversation, he reflected bitterly. It had been more an exercise in shouting words over deafening silence, mostly on his part for he'd barely allowed Nephryn to say her piece.
"We argued briefly. She left soon after she told me, for I was angry," Legolas admitted diffidently to Aragorn, shame and regret heating his face. His sudden rage had vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
Aragorn considered this for a moment, knowing all too well how anger and fear muted the senses, and the underlying meanings in heated conversations became lost to the oblivion of mindless rage. Such was the way for creatures in love. For every devoted moment, there was a spell of anger, equal in intensity.
"Then perhaps it is not that you did not listen to her Legolas. Perhaps it is that you never even gave her leave to speak."
Aragorn could see that the effect of his softly uttered words was immediately felt. Legolas stood, bent in defeat and he pondered what had occurred in a different, more rational light.
When he last looked up at Aragorn, all the anger was gone from Legolas's features. Only fear and regret lived there now.
"I must find her."
Legolas did not even pause to retrieve his longbow as he took off at a run. Aragorn watched as the elf disappeared up over the crest, never faltering. Though the elf saw the error in his judgement immediately, Aragorn knew that a trust had been broken. Nephryn had trusted Legolas with a terrible knowledge and found him, not supportive as Aragorn had promised, but confused and angered. It would take time for that broken faith to heal. But it seemed that even the immortal elves were blessed with such a luxury and the days ahead would be fraught with danger, regardless of whether the pair reconciled or not.
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It was times such as these that Nephryn found it most useful to be able to retreat into the depths of her studies. When all her tears were spent once more, she's sought the Lady's primary counsellor and asked permission to enter the protected repository where the most important and valuable of elven lore and artefacts were housed. She'd been there before and the place had enthralled her. It was only after her only visit had the Lady Galadriél taught her of the mystic plains where warriors of old could freely practice their enchantments and rituals.
As she browsed the musty shelves now, it was Nephryn's intention to seek out the means to this mystic plain in order to better hone her skills. Though large and well lit, the repository was overstuffed with items varying in size and shape. Nephryn knew that this was because it was a protected area. There were several valuable and dangerous items in here, all protected by the powerful, impenetrable envelope of Nenya. The larger the repository, the more energy needed to be diverted to its protection and Galadriél had decided long ago that safe boundaries of Lothlorién were the priority and so the repository was kept comparatively small in scale.
Of course it did not ease her task, for already Nephryn had spent almost three hours sifting through the many artefacts that lined the deep shelves. As she gazed out the nearest opening, she could see that the sun had sunk low in the sky, dulling to a burnished yellow hue, its rays no longer glaring out from its blue nest.
The elf's woes were not forgotten, but caught up in her search, she was at least able to put them aside for a while. She could feel spikes of pain prick behind her eyes and she knew that she would have to leave soon lest her sight desert her all together. She was on the verge of halting her search when a small black orb caught her keen gaze.
Curious, she reached up over the large stack of books obscuring it and gently withdrew it from its burrow. It was most unusual: perfectly refined in texture, smooth like refined diamond but black as the night skies over Mordor. She would have mistaken it for one of the legendary palantír but for the fact that it was oblong rather than spherical. The surface was cool under her fingertips and completely unmarked. There were no inscriptions of any kind; nothing to indicate its purpose or method.
Frowning and ever more curious, Nephryn pondered the many enchantments she'd learned, trying to recall the wording for a revealing ritual. She began to chant softly, murmuring some words and whispering what she was less sure of. As she spoke, the memories flooded back to her and she began to speed up chant. Her eyes fell shut as she became absorbed completely in her task. In the darkness of her blindness, the words spun and mingled and glowed red. Without warning the oblong orb appeared in her minds eye and she saw for one second with clarity, its purpose and power.
As quickly as it had appeared, the image vanished and Nephryn forced bleary eyes open. She gaped down at the object in wonder and fear, but knew instantly that it must accompany her to Mordor. She stood on weak legs and tucked the small obsidian orb into the deep folds of her rustic robes.
She opened the door to the world outside, wary of any witnessing her hasty departure. Satisfied that she was alone, Nephryn slipped out, pulling the door firmly shut behind her.
Minutes later she was again in the centre on the Wood city though the atmosphere was subdued and hushed, as though any sign of activity might awaken another dark curse. Nephryn knew it was unlikely, but the fact that it was even possible today where previously it would have been impossible yesterday terrified them all and spurred the elf-maid on faster.
She was pushing open the door to her chambers when a heavy hand landed solidly on her shoulder. Nephryn jumped and only just managed to bite back a scream.
Legolas stood behind her, a peculiar mix of sorrow and relief weaving over his features.
"I would speak with you." He whispered softly, his blue eyes drowning her.
She longed more than anything to feel the comfort and warmth of his embrace, but today he'd hurt her very badly and she was not yet ready to trust him again, with her body or her secrets. So it was with heavy heart and tearful eyes that she looked up at him and spoke.
"I am not yet ready to be with you again. I am sorry." She uttered brokenly, for truly she knew in her heart that she had nothing to fear from him. When he knew the full reason for her leaving, he would her unquestioningly. It was battered memories of her recent past that kept her irrational mind in charge.
Legolas hung his head in absolute defeat, lips pressed tightly together as he reined in on the emotions that played across his fair face.
"I worried for you. I searched all day. I feared you'd left."
"I needed peace in a quiet place where no one would disturb me, for my thoughts did enough of that."
Legolas bent lower under the weight of his guilt with every word, but she did not mean to instil such feelings for she knew that the elf-prince would punish himself enough for them both. As his eyes fell to the floor, her heart ached to comfort him and she ran a fingertip delicately along the line of his jaw. He clasped her hand lightly, pressing a formal kiss to her fingers. His lips lingered there and Nephryn felt her body go weak at the touch and her eyes slip shut.
"I will wait. Forever if need be. Know that I am sorry for how I treated you today. But I am not sorry for how I feel."
"I know," she whispered brokenly, emotion threatening to smother her words.
Legolas bowed once and then left, defeat warping his gait, his entire bearing emanating sadness.
Nephryn threw open the door and stumbled over to the bed. The many events of the day had worn heavily on her. She lay on the bed for a long time, staring out at the sky as it mingled with sunlight into a vibrant cerise and dulled slowly to a regal purple, before finally yielding to the inky black of night. Salty tears soaked her sleeves and she barely had the presence of mind to stand and change out of her robes.
Before she returned to her empty bed, she tucked the stolen relic into the small leather satchel she'd used on her journey from Rivendell to Lothlorién. For an hour, she lay awake and alone in her bed. Unable to find warmth there, she went to the deep chaise near the window, where Legolas's long moss-green cloak still lay draped. She pulled the heavy worn cloth around her and it enfolded her completely. His scent lingered on its soft fabric and Nephryn lay slouched in a half-waking daze, trying to fool her weary body that it was her beloved who embraced her now and soothed away her many fears.
But while her body might have been deceived, her tortured mind was not. Sleep or anything resembling rest eluded both her and her beloved elf-prince, and hours later she sat still swathed in the bulky cloak and though they were apart, both Legolas and Nephryn watched as the young sun ascended, ushering forth the new day.
A/N: This has got to be the longest hangover ever. I know. Even I'm thinking, 'get over it!!' but if any of you out there have actually had men issues, you'll all know that 'get over it' just don't cut it when you're hurtin. After this chapter (the last of the slow movers/almost totally utterly plotless) things will move a teeny bit livelier (questionable spelling there). Stay tuned for 'The Great River'. There is going to be action in the next two or three chapters: I promise - swear on the grave of my deceased cat.