Disclaimer: I only own Wilwarin and the poem. Everything else is Tolkien's.

I glance at you, and sigh. I have moved my clothing and some of my most prized possessions into your room. There is some clutter, but you don't notice.

You look beautiful. Your hair is done in tiny braids, your dress a midnight blue. You gaze out the window. What do you see? What do you know? What are you thinking?

I walk over to you, and gently place my hand on your shoulder. You moan and gently push me away.

'What is wrong, my love?' I whisper.

You continue to stare, fingering the mauve fabric of the curtain. I sit next to you, and brush a braid away from your face. You moan louder, and shove me away.

I get up and try not to be offended. How can I? I love you, and know that you are physically with me, but not mentally. I pick up a book of poems and read aloud.

Sunlight dances on the floor, Flooding through your open door,

Your heart is closed though, You won't let go,

Life brings pain, But not without gain,

My love, let me in, And let our love begin,

I decide to try to reach for you again. You whimper, and your body stiffens.

'My love, what is wrong? Tell me, is it your father?' I ask, this time more worried.

I wrap my arms around you, and press your head against my chest. I lovingly pull you onto my lap. You stay stiff, and thrash your arms violently.

'Shhhh, It's alright. Billie you are safe,' I murmur. You don't seem convinced.

You continue to thrash and kick, I wonder what's going on in your mind.

'Billie, it's Elrohir,' I whisper in your ear. I rub your back, trying to get you to relax.

You continue thrashing until you are spent, and collapse, exhaustedly in my arms. Your breathing is harsh and ragged, you're moaning, tugging on my hair.

'Hush, it is alright, I'm right here,' I say soothingly.

You continue to tug on the same braid. I stroke your cheek. You stop moaning and snuggle close to me. I kiss your forehead, and rock you.

You play with my hair, braiding and re-braiding it. You hold my hand again. I sigh into your hair. It smells of lilac, your favorite flower. You have a bit of a purple obsession.

I decide that we should go for a walk. The spring sun shines, causing your golden hair to blow. A robin is perched on the branch of a magnolia tree, puffing its out its red chest.

It flies over, and sits on your shoulder. You don't take much notice, you have zoned out again. The robin doesn't seem to mind, though, he nestled in you hair.

I gently lift it, and set it free. I place my hand on the free spot on your shoulder. You turn to look at me for a minute, then return to your own world.

Your emerald eyes remain focused on the forest. I sigh, and decide that it would be best if you went to visit your father.

'Wilwarin, would you like to see your father? He's probably doing much better,' I say, trying to hid the anxiety in my voice.

You touch my hand, sending shivers up my spine. I smile softly, and take that as a 'yes'.

I lead the way to his room. The spring air tickles my nose, and I sneeze grumble something about 'damn pollen.'

When we finally reach his room, I take a deep breath, trying to keep my composure. We walk into the dimly lit room, and I take a seat at the edge of a bed.

I pull you onto my lap to comfort you, if you need comforting. You lean your head on my shoulder, and reach out to your father with a weak arm.

You stroke his cheek, and murmur something unintelligible. You don't cry, I don't think that you are aware enough to cry.

His body is bandaged, and a scar runs down his cheek. Of course, the scar will fade with time, but I wonder if the emotional scars will ever fade.

The little light that is in the room reflects off of your hair, as well as your father's. I love watching the golden glow. It is the light in the darkness.

Author's Note: Thanks to those who reviewed!! I'm sorry about my grammatical errors and I've tried to be more descriptive in this chapter. I'll try to improve my writing.