Footsteps to Rivendell
A Sequel to Golden Leaves of Lórien
By Ellwyn Phoenix
(jidai_rinoa@hotmail.com)
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Chapter Three: By Moonlight
He couldn't help it. When night was upon the Elven refuge he felt an irrepressible urge to explore the city. He whispered to himself in the dark that the only reason was that he needed fresh air and that he wanted to examine the beautiful lacquered arches again, as he slipped out of bed. He hadn't really been in bed, sleeping, but rather staring at the ceiling blankly. He knew what the real reason was. He had to find her. And speak to her. If he left Rivendell without seeing her again, knowing that she was so near…his mind would implode, he thought.
And at seeing her again, all the pain he had fought so long to push down had surfaced in a moment. His heart was racing as he divested himself of the brown traveling cloak he had arrived in and changed to his green embroidered tunic. He stepped out of his room and out onto a balcony that overlooked the plaza. A new moon hung low in the sky and Legolas couldn't help but feel a pang of déjà vu. That silver light, that same new moon had been the light that peeked through the branches of the Golden Wood that night he had danced with her…
What if she doesn't want to see me? Of course she doesn't want to see me! Or she wouldn't have disappeared in such a hurry at the sight of you.
I don't care, he thought, I have to find her.
I'll die if I don't.
His eyes quickly searched the plaza from his viewpoint atop the balcony and then he descended into the square. There was only a small remainder of Elves strolling through the plaza. Legolas descended the stairs.
He strode through the plaza quickly and then emerged onto a beautifully carved walkway. But his thoughts were elsewhere and his footsteps light and hurried. His eyes cast about and one happening upon him would have thought him to be frantic.
After half an hour he had nearly strolled through all the walkways and groves that existed in the city. And still the new moon hung low in the sky. His spirits dove into the abyss.
Of course she isn't here. She's probably in her home, or wherever she stays. She's probably with someone else. Someone else…
At the mere thought his hand clenched involuntarily into a fist and his knuckles turned white. His face grew pallid and his expression turned pensive.
She had grown—before she had been a mere adolescent, and her face was young with childish innocence. She looked different now. No, every feature of her was the same and just as recognizable. Only that before, the fleeting vision of beauty barely touched her, while now with the passage of time she had grown to be merely beautiful.
She isn't any more beautiful than the other young maidens. There is nothing different about her.
But that that was just an excuse he was saying in his mind to get himself to stop thinking so irrationally. Why had he been so attracted to her in the first place? It was not like him to dive into love blindly. There were so many maidens just lining up to flutter their eyelashes at him, even back then, before he had met her. And since then, it had been no different. Except that the maidens of Mirkwood soon lost interest after he had given them no ounce of his attention, his favor.
So what was it about her? …It doesn't matter, he thought grimly, because I loved her. She may have been no more beautiful than the others, no more charming, nor modest, nor talented, but she was Erlyannil, and I loved her.
What am I doing? This isn't what I was sent here to do.
Legolas' breathing was heavy and erratic as he sat down on a bench in the middle of a walkway shaded by an overhang that put it into shadows with the dim light of the dying day. He put his face into his hands and struggled against the tears that threatened to overcome him.
He did not know how long he had sat like this until a footstep rang out clear to his left. Legolas immediately turned in the direction. His heart skipped a beat.
There she was, standing at the foot of a narrow staircase. Watching him in his agony. Without sentiment.
Legolas straightened and nearly stood but she stepped backwards as though frightened. His eyes searched her face earnestly. He saw her swallow with some effort and then he saw the irregular heaving of her chest. His heart was beating so loud in his ears that he was astonished the entire city was not aware of it.
She wasn't moving. He stood but did not dare to close the space between them. Heart beating in his throat, he summoned up the courage to speak.
Why?! He wanted to cry, why do you torment me like this? Why did you have to be here…before there may actually have been a chance of forgetting my last trip to the golden woods, but now…
"…I would ask you what you are doing here, but I fear that would be nothing…that isn't what I want to say," he managed instead. His voice nearly cracked but he kept it from doing so with much effort.
She was silent. Regarding him with those clear dark eyes, harrowing his soul. Or at least that's what it felt like in the moments of her silence. Legolas was inhaling and exhaling shallowly. In fact, he was barely breathing at all.
"Then what is it you wish to say," she finally whispered. Her voice was thin.
Legolas did not reply. He stepped toward her slowly until he was but a foot away. "Erlyannil--" he began, but she shook her head quickly.
"Don't."
"Don't what?" He was beginning to lose control over his composure. It worried and angered him at the same time that she did not appear as nervous as he. She was expressionless.
Erlyannil sighed. "Don't speak to me like that. As thought you actually knew me." She shut her eyes and lowered her face.
His heart sunk. "But I do, Erlyannil. No, or is it that you mean to tell me the reason I cannot speak to you…is because you are…married." It was not a question.
She raised her eyes. "Not married." Relief was a common term for the feeling that washed through him. "But I am in love with someone."
Relief? Right, relief, if I was an Orc's brother. He bit down on his lower lip. "Of course. It was only one thousand, seven hundred, and thirty two years," he whispered to himself.
Her gaze flickered briefly from his face. He keeps track of every day to pass… "Legolas, I…you…what are you doing here?"
He murmured something about 'council' without looking up.
"I left Lothlórien many summers ago. Rivendell is still beautiful after so many ages." Erlyannil's voice was so controlled and level that Legolas wanted to put his fist through a wall and scream.
"Like you." His voice was haggard now and his face still pointed at his feet.
He heard her sigh again.
"You remember what I told you about sighing," he couldn't help remarking.
"Yes…" and for a moment her eyes lit up but it was short-lived. "No, Legolas. No."
"Who is he?" The question was blurted out. The only question that had been reeling in his mind for the last few minutes.
"Why does it matter. I met him when I came here to stay and…"
"You fell in love upon meeting, of course."
She was silent again.
"I can't think about it," he admitted. His eyes raised and looked directly into hers. He saw her flinch. "Tell me why, Erlyannil. Tell me. You don't have to love me. Not now, not anymore…" His hand clenched. "But, please…listen to me, believe me when I say I love you." His voice faded to a whisper. The light suddenly grew dimmer as the sliver of a moon disappeared behind the line of a hill.
He felt her take a deep breath and expel it.
"No. I can't."
"You can't, or you won't?"
"Legolas, that was so long ago, you can't still have--"
"I told you I would never forget. Never means never." he bit out harshly. His voice was full of spite now. "Perhaps you didn't think that when I said 'never,' I meant never. Or perhaps you have a differing notion of the length of time that 'forever' extends to."
"Please…don't…" She was about to step back when he reached out and took her hand. He brought it to his lips and gently kissed the back of her hand, then her palm, and then each of her fingertips.
He couldn't control himself or the feelings that ran rampant through him. He could feel her trembling at the contact. But she slipped her hand from his as quickly as she could without snatching it away. And yet, she had let him caress her hand for more than just a moment, Legolas noticed.
"Legolas," she whispered. The look in her eyes was too much. Legolas was suddenly against her, his lips crashed against hers and his fingers tangling in her hair. He could feel her chest against his, rising and falling frantically, the beating of her heart mirroring the hammering of his own. His lips parted from her mouth and he began to kiss her face, her cheeks, her lips, her neck. When he reached her ear he whispered into it, "You believe me, don't you."
She pulled away from him and nearly tripped against the stairs behind her. "Stop it. Stop it! Legolas, please…!" There were unbidden tears in her eyes.
He felt as though he were in a dream. "I don't care how long it has been. Millions of years could pass and I would still remember you, Erlyannil. It hurts me that you seem not to care anymore." 'It hurts' was probably the understatement of the year. He stepped closer and kissed her again, though gently this time.
Erlyannil turned her face away and she hit him.
She had struck him across his face and it stung nearly as much as it hurt him inside. He felt the trickle of blood from his upper lip and the pungent metallic taste of it reached his tongue.
"I said, stop it. Please, leave me alone. Don't speak to me. I can't see you again…ever. I mean that, Legolas. Never does mean never, and you're wrong—I didn't forget; I can't forget. I understand what 'never' means, Legolas, and now I'm telling you. Never come looking for me. Never speak to me." she managed in a choked whisper.
Before he could recover she had ascended the stairs in a flurry and disappeared. He would have caught her had he pursued her, but he couldn't. He put a hand up to touch the forming bruise on his cheek and tears came to his eyes. It was not often that he cried, for many a tragic thing had happened upon him. But he couldn't and didn't want to stop it this time. The tears coursed rivers down his cheeks and he sat down on the step raggedly sobbing into his knees.
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A/N: Wait, I thought you said it was going to be a happy story?! Lol. "It ain't over till the train gets to our stop!" To quote Final Fantasy 7…. ^_~ I've been hard hit with a blast of homework and busy schedules. The next chapter is coming, but those following might be delayed. Sorry! Busily writing, though.
*By the way, I just got home from seeing The Four Feathers. Go see it!!! It's a very good movie. ^^ Aside from the gushy love-story which we're all suckers for (…I mean, you're reading this story, aren't you? lol) it's like an epic. Reminds me of Gladiator, but that's probably only because Djimon Honsou was in it (he is so cool…and Heath Ledger is so hot…haha. Oh of course, not like Legolas—but still, he's up there. At least for me.) Hehe.
