Chapter 4: ...Means the Love of Another
It was one of the few times when Lassalanta thought back to her old home, in Lothlorien. She impatiently brushed her golden hair out of her face, but the wind pushed it back. She sat on a large stone, with her head in her hands, radiating some kind of sad inner light. She did not realize she looked much like her Lady Galadriel, had the light she was shining with was not also casting shadows in her mind.
She remembered sitting just like this in Lorien, knowing the Darkness was creeping closer...that was when Lady Galadriel herself came to her.
"Lady Lassalanta..."
"Yes?" she had lifted her head up to meet Galadriel's gaze.
"Why do you bloom with sadness?" she had asked gently.
Lassalanta had sighed. "I do believe I have made the wrong choice..." she had tried to explain.
Her Lady had nodded with understanding. "Curses never last forever..." she had whispered to comfort Lassalanta.
"But I chose to curse both myself and him!" she had cried, distraught.
"Nonetheless..." Galadriel had sat beside her. "He is here..." she had murmured.
"He is?" Lassalanta had looked up suddenly. "Why?"
"He is a Companion...of the Quest..."
"No," she had whispered. "I cannot see him!"
"Perhaps not," Galadriel had stood up. "But you can speak..."
She had bitten her lip, and ran her fingers through her hair. "I suppose I shall..." she stood up as well.
Galadriel had smiled, and left. While waiting, Lassalanta paced back and forth, closing her eyes, turning away from the entrance.
When she heard a noise at the entrance, she nearly turned to look, but fought the reflex. She faced away from the one who came in, stepping down gently.
They stood, back to back, not saying anything for a while. Finally, Lassalanta said quietly, "I'm sorry."
He had laughed lightly. "Not as much as I."
"There is nothing for you to be sorry about!" she had protested.
Although she couldn't see him, she would've sworn he had smiled, for she felt its warmth. "I am sorry we could not agree on something...I am sorry I may never see you again..."
"Me too," she had whispered. Neither said anything for another long moment that stretched on and on. Silent tears shone on Lassalanta's face, and poured down her cheeks.
Then, as if they had read each other's minds, they moved their arms back. Their hands found each other, and they were together for a long time. Lassalanta smiled through her tears, and, without saying anything, she said she loved him. He silently whispered the same thing back.
In Lothlorien, just before he would continue on a highly dangerous quest, in dark times in which Sauron could return, they held hands, and were reunited...without seeing each other...
The same tears stained her face now, and she was a beautiful sad thing. "Legolas..." she murmured to herself. She had met him again, just before she sailed over the Sea. Now she clutched the brooch he had given her, of a green leaf...
"Lady Lassalanta..."
She looked up. It was Gandalf. He sat beside her, and she managed a smile for him.
"I knew Legolas Greenleaf well," he said, guessing what she was thinking about. He took out a pipe and began to smoke it.
"Yes," she said softly, "You were one of the Nine Companions."
"That I was!" he said, puffing out a smoke ring, making it change into various different colors. "But he never spoke of love, nor you. May I inquire why?"
"The curse," she muttered darkly. "We couldn't see each other again, without killing him."
Gandalf looked surprised. "Such a curse!" he sighed.
"And I agreed to it!" she cried, tears beginning to flow freely again. Gandalf said nothing, then, "How did it come about?"
She took a deep breath, unwilling at first to retell the tale. Finally she began, "Spiders attacked me at the Woodland Realm. Something—a voice—told me to leave Mirkwood, since they obviously didn't have much hospitality." She sobbed, angrier with herself than anything else. "As I rode back to Lorien, I met…I met this old man." He was the same old man she'd encountered on her way there, but she hadn't realized that until it was too late. Far too late.
Gandalf looked up, brows furrowed. "Was it…Saruman?"
"Yes, Saruman!" she confirmed. "He asked me why I was so furious, and I told him! Then he offered me a curse; but called it a gift! He had said, 'If you want to teach them a lesson, hear this: if you would look upon Legolas again, he would die.' At first I was about to refuse, but he persuaded me! And I agreed..." she wept.
"Saruman was very good at that," muttered Gandalf.
Lassalanta didn't seem to hear him, for she kept cursing herself.
"Come now!" cried Gandalf. "Do not curse yourself: you have already suffered. Curses do not last forever, especially here in the Havens! Legolas will come..."
Before Lassalanta could reply, Folcred suddenly rode up. "Mithrandir, Lady Lassalanta, excuse me for intruding, but there has been some trouble!"
"What is it?" Gandalf asked, getting up quickly.
"An Elf named Aignor...he has seen a tilionthule!"
A/N: The tilionthule will be explained in the next chapter. All tilionthules belong to me: they were created when I was having fun with Elven words ^^'
