Disclaimer: I own nothing
Coolkidkc: I don't think it makes you creepy or morbid. Maybe it means you have a future as a psychiatrist? Just kidding!
Cheysuli: Um. . .not sure what to say now. Here's more, I guess. Oh, nice name by the way.
KarateElf: Okay, does this fit your definition of soon? And as for your second review (thank you for reading the second chapter, by the way), you'll just have to wait and see how he deals with them! Or you could scroll down and read the chapter, of course. . .
Susan: Gee. . .wow. Thanks! And, of course, I *almost* always continue.
Carol Stevenson: Thanks for reading, I'm glad you liked it.
Crys Ritter: Is it really not a common plot? And the song didn't inspire the story--the story was inspired by a girl I knew who, well, quite frankly used to hurt herself. The song, I thought just went well.
Gryf_gal: Evil little reviewer! Violence is not the answer! If you just ask nicely, I'll write more. . .
Smeagol: He isn't committing suicide, Smea. I told you about this story, remember? He's become a masochist, but not suicidal. Elrohir is younger than you, he has an excuse to be more ignorant. I always portray Legolas and Aragorn/Estel as being the melodramatic ones because so far all I've written for LotR non-humor fics is about them, and I have a flare for melodrama. If you want a good Frodo angst story, I would be glad to recommend one. Ha-ha, you're out of dark chocolate! The new movie comes out in ten days! **dances joyously**
Unknown800: Continuation, but this isn't the end yet! (nowhere near)
Blue Banrigh: The new chapter's up today, obviously. . .this was after the forest started to darken, thus the name "Mirkwood", not "Greenwood the Great". And I don't believe in happy families.
Anya-Ring of Sarcasm: Is it really so rare? I didn't think so.
Darkfellow: If you must flame, the least you could do is spell it properly. Also, if you call that uneventful then I **suggest** that you stop reading. Personally, I do not think that slicing your arm open is something you can just shrug off, and I think it's a pretty damn significant event.
CocoBeans: Yay! Your review made me feel all warm and fuzzy, like slippers. (yeah, I'm pretty strange) I usually update fairly quickly--I'm addicted to typing!
GoldenRose: Oh, split personality, those can be annoying--I've got at least four, myself. (Just kidding!)
PoeticMuse: Thanks for saying all that nice stuff about the story! I have read a chapter of your Legolas romance and will read the rest as soon as opportunity arises.
Lady of the Forest: Yes, I am revising--there were a lot of typos!
LegyLuva: Thanks! I'll check out your story when I can, but my computer doesn't like to stay online for very long.
Soulsearcher: Thanks, soulsearcher and soulsearcher's friend! I actually do know a boy who's that organized. And he's clean-obsessive, so much that he won't let me touch him (I tend to rub dirt in my hair). As for the "good day" thing, well, that's just from a song that suggests little things matter the most, and personally I think it's true. Do you ever hear your parents screaming? It's terrifying. Oh, that's an idea. . .maybe for a sequel, but I definitely love the idea. Thanks! Fluff is so lovely. Yes, Legolas does, and yes, Elrohir is Sam. Don't know that any one else knew that--Sam and I did, but other than that. . .
Tamara: Thanks!
*****
Legolas was glad Arwen had come to Mirkwood forest. Not only had she distracted Elrohir that first day on the stairs, she was a sweet child and fair company. When she was not around, Elrohir moaned about having to watch over his little sister all the time, but Legolas could tell that Elrohir truly loved Arwen. She was still very young and innocent, and knew not of the veritable troubles of the wide world. Things were simple with her, and it helped Legolas get a perspective. In the ten days Arwen had been there Legolas had not taken blade to skin once.
In fact, he was able to act normally with his friends there. He slept through the night now, no more waking up from dreams of harsh Quenya words and demons making him face what he had caused. He could eat without feeling choked up by guilt, feeling unworthy of food. Even Naithon's scowls weren't enough to keep food from Legolas's mouth. Normalcy became healthy for Legolas--sleep, food, romping through the forest with Elrohir and Arwen. His parents did not fight with Lord Elrond around. Legolas would almost have said that life was good.
The day on the stairs had scared Legolas. He had almost told Elrohir everything. His heart cried out to him to ask for help, but he kept his heart in his chest and was silent. Though Elrohir had tried again to learn what was wrong, Legolas hid from him.
/~/ "Legolas, wait just one moment please," Elrohir said, cornering Legolas outside of Legolas's quarters. "I would like to speak with you." It had been two days since that time on the stairs, and Elrohir had not felt the time right to ask about how Legolas had changed, but he also felt that he could not put it off.
Legolas's heart jumped as he realized what Elrohir would ask. He steeled himself and prepared to act natural, as if nothing were wrong with him. He wouldn't even let on that he knew something was up. "What ever about, Elrohir?" asked the prince in his most innocent voice.
"You know, Legolas, but I do not. What has happened to you? Why do you wear only long-sleeved clothes? Why does your laugh sound as though it has been hibernating? What has changed in you?"
"Nothing has changed in me, Elrohir."
"You know that to be untrue, Legolas!" Elrohir was despairing. He had known that something was wrong with his friend, but with all these denials. . .Elrohir was beginning to suspect that he had been wrong, and Legolas was fine. "Maybe it is not. I. . .I am sorry I have been poking about in your personal life."
"That is quite all right. Good night, Elrohir."
"'Night, Legolas." Yet something in his heart remained unsure. /~/
The one drawback to having Arwen around was noise. Occasionally, a small spider or lizard would cross the room, and she would shriek--just a one- second pitch, but enough to make Legolas spasm and twitch. He could hardly stand noise. This was the one thing that kept Elrohir suspicious. "Legolas, I will be right back, would you watch Arwen for a minute please?" Elrohir asked.
"Sure," Legolas replied. Watching Arwen was simple, for all it required was making sure she didn't hurt herself or do anything dangerous.
"Thanks," Elrohir jumped to his feet and left the room. Elrohir had been gone only a few moments when he heard a scuttling noise. Turning, he saw a spider, about one foot tall, long, and wide, scurry into Legolas's room. He had time only to murmur, "Uh-oh" before he heard Arwen's scream. It was a full scream, one that filled up the room, bouncing off the walls. Elrohir sprinted back.
Chaos had taken over. Arwen stood frozen, staring at the arachnid. Legolas was rocking, curled up into a ball. Somehow Elrohir doubted that Legolas's fear came from the aphid. The spider was running for the window. Elrohir took action, throwing the spider outside. "Arwen, be quiet! Now!" he commanded. He was usually nicer than that, but Legolas was frightened half to death. When Arwen's scream continued, Elrohir covered her mouth with his palm. She stopped screaming immediately, not having enough air to continue.
"What is wrong with him, Elrohir?" she asked, hardly daring to breathe, her fright past and Legolas's painfully apparent. "I didn't mean to do anything!" Her chin quivered. Elrohir was afraid she would start to cry, and the last thing he needed was a teary child.
"Of course not. Arwen, just. . ." the stress was getting to him. He was sure now that something was wrong with Legolas, and he was determined to fix whatever it was--determined, even more so than he had been when he first noticed it. What could he say without hurting her feelings? He didn't have time for this! "Just be quiet for a minute."
"I really didn't--" she began, not understanding how important it was that she kept silent.
"Be silent, Arwen!" Elrohir nearly screamed. He noticed with a sinking feeling that this only made Legolas whimper and grasp his arms tighter around his body. Arwen took one look and ran from the room. Elrohir didn't know what to do. "Legolas?" he asked very quietly. "It is all right, it was just a spider. It is all right, Legolas." Elrohir reached out to put his hand on Legolas's shoulder, but Legolas drew back.
Meanwhile, Arwen had not simply run off. She wanted to help. "Ada!" she cried, having finally found Elrond. "Ada."
"What's wrong, Arwen? What is it?" He did not expect that anything was really wrong, just some small thing, Arwen being a young child and perceiving as such. However, he listened with interest because, young as she might be, Arwen was still his daughter.
"Something is. . .I am not sure. It is not good though. I think I might have done something wrong," she half-explained, a bit scared of being in trouble, and only partially comprehending the situation.
"Exactly what has happened, Arwen?"
*****
Legolas couldn't think. There was nothing. Nothing, that is, but the big emptiness, the fear, the blame. He had wrapped his arms around his body and now he pulled his arms tighter, trying to contain everything, as if afraid he might explode or fall apart if he did not hold himself together. Though the noise had stopped, it echoed still in his soul, and the paralyzing terror had not gone away.
This had happened before. The boy did not know why this happened to him, and he wished it did not. However, he could not stop it. All the warmth seemed to have left him now, indeed he was so cold that when Elrohir reached out his hand to touch Legolas's shoulder he drew back, afraid he would be burned. Suddenly, out of the void, Legolas felt a hand on his back.
"Legolas? It is all right, Legolas, it has passed," someone said, before lapsing into Sindarin. Legolas associated the voice with the hand on his back, and the hand lifting his arms out of their death-grip. The soft- spoken Sindarin broke whatever spell had been cast over him, and he managed to raise his head. Feeling flooded Legolas, and he was suddenly ashamed and, at the same time, grateful to Elrond--never before had someone managed to draw him out of one of those such trances. Not that anyone ever had tried. . . With even more shame he realized that his face was wet with tears.
"I didn't meant it," Arwen said quietly. "I did not want to hurt you, Legolas."
"No," he said, using the back of his wrist to wipe away his tears, "you did not. It is all right, Arwen. Really, it is all right." He was unsure of what to do. Would it be right to ask them all to leave? Should he try to explain? His jumbled and streaming thoughts were broken by Elrond's voice.
"Is something wrong, Legolas, that you would like to talk about?"
"I. . ." Could he say it? But what could he say? 'I have gashes up and down my arms because I hate myself? My parents scream at each other and it's because of me?' No, that would not be right. It would not be right to burden people with his problems. He had to deal with it on his own--he had to hide it. Too weak for words, he shook his head. "I am fine."
*****
Elrohir did not care what Legolas said. He was not fine. Something was very wrong. Somewhere, deep inside of Legolas, something was amiss. And no matter what it took, Elrohir would fix what ever was wrong. Unfortunately, Legolas was just as determine to hide all of it--everything that made him seem like a bad person. He liked having Elrohir's friendship, and would not risk his best friend over some stupid coping problem.
The light of the candle reflected brightly in Legolas's eyes. The flame danced. Taking his dagger in a far too common motion, like a drone, Legolas dug the blade into flesh far deeper than usual. It felt brilliant, and as soon as he drew out the blade he knew he had cut too far. But that didn't matter--the sticky liquid ran free of boundaries, spilling over his arm, hand and tunic. It felt good, real good, perfect clarity--and then clarity brought a dizziness to him, and he realized that this time he had indeed gone too far.
Legolas groped for bandages, then fell to his knees and embraced his own destruction.
**********
That's it for now. Anyone wanting more should probably review. . .I'm not saying I won't write on without reviews, but I do like to know that people are reading, so just say "hi" or something, please, if you've read this.
Coolkidkc: I don't think it makes you creepy or morbid. Maybe it means you have a future as a psychiatrist? Just kidding!
Cheysuli: Um. . .not sure what to say now. Here's more, I guess. Oh, nice name by the way.
KarateElf: Okay, does this fit your definition of soon? And as for your second review (thank you for reading the second chapter, by the way), you'll just have to wait and see how he deals with them! Or you could scroll down and read the chapter, of course. . .
Susan: Gee. . .wow. Thanks! And, of course, I *almost* always continue.
Carol Stevenson: Thanks for reading, I'm glad you liked it.
Crys Ritter: Is it really not a common plot? And the song didn't inspire the story--the story was inspired by a girl I knew who, well, quite frankly used to hurt herself. The song, I thought just went well.
Gryf_gal: Evil little reviewer! Violence is not the answer! If you just ask nicely, I'll write more. . .
Smeagol: He isn't committing suicide, Smea. I told you about this story, remember? He's become a masochist, but not suicidal. Elrohir is younger than you, he has an excuse to be more ignorant. I always portray Legolas and Aragorn/Estel as being the melodramatic ones because so far all I've written for LotR non-humor fics is about them, and I have a flare for melodrama. If you want a good Frodo angst story, I would be glad to recommend one. Ha-ha, you're out of dark chocolate! The new movie comes out in ten days! **dances joyously**
Unknown800: Continuation, but this isn't the end yet! (nowhere near)
Blue Banrigh: The new chapter's up today, obviously. . .this was after the forest started to darken, thus the name "Mirkwood", not "Greenwood the Great". And I don't believe in happy families.
Anya-Ring of Sarcasm: Is it really so rare? I didn't think so.
Darkfellow: If you must flame, the least you could do is spell it properly. Also, if you call that uneventful then I **suggest** that you stop reading. Personally, I do not think that slicing your arm open is something you can just shrug off, and I think it's a pretty damn significant event.
CocoBeans: Yay! Your review made me feel all warm and fuzzy, like slippers. (yeah, I'm pretty strange) I usually update fairly quickly--I'm addicted to typing!
GoldenRose: Oh, split personality, those can be annoying--I've got at least four, myself. (Just kidding!)
PoeticMuse: Thanks for saying all that nice stuff about the story! I have read a chapter of your Legolas romance and will read the rest as soon as opportunity arises.
Lady of the Forest: Yes, I am revising--there were a lot of typos!
LegyLuva: Thanks! I'll check out your story when I can, but my computer doesn't like to stay online for very long.
Soulsearcher: Thanks, soulsearcher and soulsearcher's friend! I actually do know a boy who's that organized. And he's clean-obsessive, so much that he won't let me touch him (I tend to rub dirt in my hair). As for the "good day" thing, well, that's just from a song that suggests little things matter the most, and personally I think it's true. Do you ever hear your parents screaming? It's terrifying. Oh, that's an idea. . .maybe for a sequel, but I definitely love the idea. Thanks! Fluff is so lovely. Yes, Legolas does, and yes, Elrohir is Sam. Don't know that any one else knew that--Sam and I did, but other than that. . .
Tamara: Thanks!
*****
Legolas was glad Arwen had come to Mirkwood forest. Not only had she distracted Elrohir that first day on the stairs, she was a sweet child and fair company. When she was not around, Elrohir moaned about having to watch over his little sister all the time, but Legolas could tell that Elrohir truly loved Arwen. She was still very young and innocent, and knew not of the veritable troubles of the wide world. Things were simple with her, and it helped Legolas get a perspective. In the ten days Arwen had been there Legolas had not taken blade to skin once.
In fact, he was able to act normally with his friends there. He slept through the night now, no more waking up from dreams of harsh Quenya words and demons making him face what he had caused. He could eat without feeling choked up by guilt, feeling unworthy of food. Even Naithon's scowls weren't enough to keep food from Legolas's mouth. Normalcy became healthy for Legolas--sleep, food, romping through the forest with Elrohir and Arwen. His parents did not fight with Lord Elrond around. Legolas would almost have said that life was good.
The day on the stairs had scared Legolas. He had almost told Elrohir everything. His heart cried out to him to ask for help, but he kept his heart in his chest and was silent. Though Elrohir had tried again to learn what was wrong, Legolas hid from him.
/~/ "Legolas, wait just one moment please," Elrohir said, cornering Legolas outside of Legolas's quarters. "I would like to speak with you." It had been two days since that time on the stairs, and Elrohir had not felt the time right to ask about how Legolas had changed, but he also felt that he could not put it off.
Legolas's heart jumped as he realized what Elrohir would ask. He steeled himself and prepared to act natural, as if nothing were wrong with him. He wouldn't even let on that he knew something was up. "What ever about, Elrohir?" asked the prince in his most innocent voice.
"You know, Legolas, but I do not. What has happened to you? Why do you wear only long-sleeved clothes? Why does your laugh sound as though it has been hibernating? What has changed in you?"
"Nothing has changed in me, Elrohir."
"You know that to be untrue, Legolas!" Elrohir was despairing. He had known that something was wrong with his friend, but with all these denials. . .Elrohir was beginning to suspect that he had been wrong, and Legolas was fine. "Maybe it is not. I. . .I am sorry I have been poking about in your personal life."
"That is quite all right. Good night, Elrohir."
"'Night, Legolas." Yet something in his heart remained unsure. /~/
The one drawback to having Arwen around was noise. Occasionally, a small spider or lizard would cross the room, and she would shriek--just a one- second pitch, but enough to make Legolas spasm and twitch. He could hardly stand noise. This was the one thing that kept Elrohir suspicious. "Legolas, I will be right back, would you watch Arwen for a minute please?" Elrohir asked.
"Sure," Legolas replied. Watching Arwen was simple, for all it required was making sure she didn't hurt herself or do anything dangerous.
"Thanks," Elrohir jumped to his feet and left the room. Elrohir had been gone only a few moments when he heard a scuttling noise. Turning, he saw a spider, about one foot tall, long, and wide, scurry into Legolas's room. He had time only to murmur, "Uh-oh" before he heard Arwen's scream. It was a full scream, one that filled up the room, bouncing off the walls. Elrohir sprinted back.
Chaos had taken over. Arwen stood frozen, staring at the arachnid. Legolas was rocking, curled up into a ball. Somehow Elrohir doubted that Legolas's fear came from the aphid. The spider was running for the window. Elrohir took action, throwing the spider outside. "Arwen, be quiet! Now!" he commanded. He was usually nicer than that, but Legolas was frightened half to death. When Arwen's scream continued, Elrohir covered her mouth with his palm. She stopped screaming immediately, not having enough air to continue.
"What is wrong with him, Elrohir?" she asked, hardly daring to breathe, her fright past and Legolas's painfully apparent. "I didn't mean to do anything!" Her chin quivered. Elrohir was afraid she would start to cry, and the last thing he needed was a teary child.
"Of course not. Arwen, just. . ." the stress was getting to him. He was sure now that something was wrong with Legolas, and he was determined to fix whatever it was--determined, even more so than he had been when he first noticed it. What could he say without hurting her feelings? He didn't have time for this! "Just be quiet for a minute."
"I really didn't--" she began, not understanding how important it was that she kept silent.
"Be silent, Arwen!" Elrohir nearly screamed. He noticed with a sinking feeling that this only made Legolas whimper and grasp his arms tighter around his body. Arwen took one look and ran from the room. Elrohir didn't know what to do. "Legolas?" he asked very quietly. "It is all right, it was just a spider. It is all right, Legolas." Elrohir reached out to put his hand on Legolas's shoulder, but Legolas drew back.
Meanwhile, Arwen had not simply run off. She wanted to help. "Ada!" she cried, having finally found Elrond. "Ada."
"What's wrong, Arwen? What is it?" He did not expect that anything was really wrong, just some small thing, Arwen being a young child and perceiving as such. However, he listened with interest because, young as she might be, Arwen was still his daughter.
"Something is. . .I am not sure. It is not good though. I think I might have done something wrong," she half-explained, a bit scared of being in trouble, and only partially comprehending the situation.
"Exactly what has happened, Arwen?"
*****
Legolas couldn't think. There was nothing. Nothing, that is, but the big emptiness, the fear, the blame. He had wrapped his arms around his body and now he pulled his arms tighter, trying to contain everything, as if afraid he might explode or fall apart if he did not hold himself together. Though the noise had stopped, it echoed still in his soul, and the paralyzing terror had not gone away.
This had happened before. The boy did not know why this happened to him, and he wished it did not. However, he could not stop it. All the warmth seemed to have left him now, indeed he was so cold that when Elrohir reached out his hand to touch Legolas's shoulder he drew back, afraid he would be burned. Suddenly, out of the void, Legolas felt a hand on his back.
"Legolas? It is all right, Legolas, it has passed," someone said, before lapsing into Sindarin. Legolas associated the voice with the hand on his back, and the hand lifting his arms out of their death-grip. The soft- spoken Sindarin broke whatever spell had been cast over him, and he managed to raise his head. Feeling flooded Legolas, and he was suddenly ashamed and, at the same time, grateful to Elrond--never before had someone managed to draw him out of one of those such trances. Not that anyone ever had tried. . . With even more shame he realized that his face was wet with tears.
"I didn't meant it," Arwen said quietly. "I did not want to hurt you, Legolas."
"No," he said, using the back of his wrist to wipe away his tears, "you did not. It is all right, Arwen. Really, it is all right." He was unsure of what to do. Would it be right to ask them all to leave? Should he try to explain? His jumbled and streaming thoughts were broken by Elrond's voice.
"Is something wrong, Legolas, that you would like to talk about?"
"I. . ." Could he say it? But what could he say? 'I have gashes up and down my arms because I hate myself? My parents scream at each other and it's because of me?' No, that would not be right. It would not be right to burden people with his problems. He had to deal with it on his own--he had to hide it. Too weak for words, he shook his head. "I am fine."
*****
Elrohir did not care what Legolas said. He was not fine. Something was very wrong. Somewhere, deep inside of Legolas, something was amiss. And no matter what it took, Elrohir would fix what ever was wrong. Unfortunately, Legolas was just as determine to hide all of it--everything that made him seem like a bad person. He liked having Elrohir's friendship, and would not risk his best friend over some stupid coping problem.
The light of the candle reflected brightly in Legolas's eyes. The flame danced. Taking his dagger in a far too common motion, like a drone, Legolas dug the blade into flesh far deeper than usual. It felt brilliant, and as soon as he drew out the blade he knew he had cut too far. But that didn't matter--the sticky liquid ran free of boundaries, spilling over his arm, hand and tunic. It felt good, real good, perfect clarity--and then clarity brought a dizziness to him, and he realized that this time he had indeed gone too far.
Legolas groped for bandages, then fell to his knees and embraced his own destruction.
**********
That's it for now. Anyone wanting more should probably review. . .I'm not saying I won't write on without reviews, but I do like to know that people are reading, so just say "hi" or something, please, if you've read this.
