Disclaimer: Check Chapter One if you really want to.
AN: Okay, um. . . I actually hate this chapter but it's almost necessary cause I make reference to it in a later chapter and I really like that scene so sorry, your just going to have to bear with me. But to make up for it, I added another two pages that I was going to leave for next chapter, and I really like those two pages so. . . maybe two pages of good will make up for four pages of bad, right?
Reviews:
Red Demon: Oh she gets her dark side in later chapters. heh heh heh. but your just going to have to wait for that. And thanks for that tip, I'll have to watch that I'm not making Legolas int a he-she . . . I don't think too many of you would be pleased with that.
silverdust: yeah isn't he just adorable? Doens't it just make you want to take him home and lock you in your bedroom? . . . I mean. . . SHHH. lol. thanx for the review!
The wind whipped through her short blonde hair as the eagles great wings glided through the air. The morning was bright, not a cloud to be seen for miles, but her mood was still dampened. Honora carried the pearl white box of Airehyanda under her right arm as the landscape of Rohan passed quickly beneath her.
Do not deceive yourself, he had said. Was that what she was doing? Was she a fool to believe that she could truly love? She had sworn when she was younger, that she would love a real being from Middle-Earth or no one at all. She would not have her father create a love for her, as he had done for himself.
Her mother was wonderful, yes, but she seemed to lack the warmth of life that the beings of Middle-Earth possessed. She had never walked upon the lands she saw within the looking room, never met the people she watched go about their affairs. She had never seen the sun rise or set, nor the moon wax and wane. Honora had felt pity for the woman who had born and raised her.
But now, she was not quite sure whether she should be pitying her mother or herself. At least her mother felt love, and it was returned. Honora was not so sure of Legolas' feeling now. Did he continue to feel the same as she? Or had the words of her father deterred him from her? Would she lose love now? After it had come so close? Indeed that was what she could foresee.
She was drawn out of her thoughts when Lokrantara gave a loud cry, they were approaching the edge of Firien Wood. Honora took a deep breath and told the eagle to land in the Eastern Park. She slid off the Eagles back, and walked over to the great tree. A mallorn, as those of Lorien stood by itself in the middle of the park, it's shimmering leaves swaying in the slight breeze. She drew the hood of her cloak over her head, to avoid being recognized.
She knelt beside the tree and dug her hands in the freshly disturbed dirt from the removal of Airehyanda. She gently set the box down in the hole she had created and buried it again with care, so none could tell the earth had been disturbed there.
She sat back on her heels, looking up at the beauty of it's leaves for many moments, too many. For in that time, she made up her mind, she was going to visit Holraldir. She stood up and silently slipped through the forest, not even the keenest Elven eyes would have been able to see her passing.
She stopped in the trees before the guarded gate of Holraldir's palace. "Fume, tirno arna mar. Fume." She whispered in a spell, the guards suddenly slouched and fell to the ground. As she drew closer, she could hear the soft sound of their snores.
Honora stealthily crept through the gate, towards the hall of the royal thrown room. The doors were open and many people were inside. Suddenly a sword came to her throat, she froze, her chin lifting defiantly.
"Who are you?" A voice hissed in her ear.
She turned her head slightly and her eyes widened in shock. "Ulor. . ." She whispered, but then after a moment she began to notice the subtle differences between them. For one, he was an Elf, his pointed ears could plainly be seen sticking through the pale blonde, like hers, of his hair. His eyes were not violet, but instead a brilliant green, like two tiny emeralds. His stance was the same, as was his build, yet there was a cold arrogance in him that her beloved brother had never possessed.
"I am a visitor." She said carefully.
"A visitor?" He asked in scorn. "A visitor who kills the royal guards and sneaks up on the palace of my father?"
His father? She stared at him, indeed she had only seen the son of Holraldir when he had been in the cradle. That had been two thousand years ago and much had changed since then. She had not accounted for an overprotective son watching out for Holraldir.
"How is father?" She asked quietly.
"Cundu! You are late for your lesson!" The familiar voice of Holraldir called from the room beyond them.
Her captor glared, roughly took her arm and, keeping his sword to her throat, pushed her into the thrown room. She saw the aged figure of her second father sitting in his thrown, with his wife beside him. Never before had she seen Calwa sit at his side in the thrown room.
"Whats this?" Holraldir demanded of his son.
"A visitor, supposedly." Cundu said snidely, ripping the hood off her head.
Honora lifted her gaze to meet the kings, she watched as his face paled. Calwa gave a gasp, her hand going to her throat in a gesture of shock. An uncomfortable silence fell on the room as the king tried to find the words to greet his visitor.
Indeed, the king was surprised. He had never expected any of his first children to dare return to him, least of all his daughter. The only reason she too had been banished, was to prevent her overprotective brother, Ulor, from coming back for her. He had not even bothered to tell his youngest son of his three older siblings. And now. . . he looked upon her, frowning at the leggings and blouse he saw under the cloak and the way her beautiful golden hair had been cut short.
"My dear, what have they done to you? Was Ulor trying to turn you into a man? You poor thing?" Holraldir said after a long moment.
"Me? A poor thing? Nay! I chose this for me. It is your son, Cundu, who is indeed a poor thing. Does it pain you, Holraldir, to have him look so alike your first son?" She asked in scorn. "But he is a mere shadow of what Ulor was."
Anger came to the kings face at her words, but Calwa quickly quenched it. "Why are you coming here to stir up trouble, my dear?"
"Excuse me, would anyone mind telling me what's going on here?" Cundu asked angrily at being compared to another, his sword pressed closer to Honora's throat.
"My son, this is your older sister." Holraldir said slowly, obviously reluctant to reveal the information.
"My sister?" The prince asked in shock his sword falling to his side.
"And what of your brothers, Honora? How do they fare?" Calwa asked timidly, for it had not been in her heart to send her first three children away, even though Ulor had not truly been hers.
"Both dead." Honora answered unemotionally. Tears came to her second mothers eyes. "Kirok . . . he . . . succumbed to darkness and murdered Ulor in the Dead Marshes of Mordor. I avenged Ulor before the gates of Minas Tirith."
"You murdered your own brother!" Holraldir cried in alarm.
"He was no longer my brother, an Orc! I refused to be related to a mockery of the glory of Elves." She said angrily.
"I welcome you into the forests of Firien once more, Honora. I have long regretted my decision." Holraldir said after a moment.
"As I knew you would, yet I reject your offer. There is none of my heart left in these woods . . . it lies in another." She said quietly.
"Then rest now, and be on your way, if you must. We offer to you our hospitalities." Calwa said sadly.
Honora nodded and bowed her head, then turned on her heel to walk out of the thrown room. Cundu had been ordered to escort her to her chambers. They walked in silence for many moments before either spoke.
"What crime did you commit to make father banish you?" Cundu finally asked, his voice filled with arrogance, he was after all the heir to Firien.
She turned to him, anger written all over her face at his tone. "Let me remind you, Prince, you are only the heir to this kingdom due to the deaths of two before you. We had plans to murder you before you had even come yet of age. And do not forget that, for Ulor was twice the man you will ever be.
"We stole the Everstone and were granted with eternal life. I will live, ageless, until the ends of time." She snapped. That was what they had been accused of, for Holraldir became suspicious when Ulor aged the same as they. He should have been dead long before she had reached her thousandth year but he had not, and that was why they had been banished. He was completely oblivious to the true reason and Honora planned on keeping it that way . . . for the moment.
"My father would have killed you all if you had so much as lain a finger on me, you know that." Cundu returned, undaunted by her threat.
Honora laughed. "The weapons of Elves, Men nor Dwarves can harm me, what would do? Beat me to death with your hands?" She asked sarcastically. "You are not my brother. And remember that. For a time will come that you will wish you were of the same heritage as I."
"What are you? The bastard child of one of Father's maidens?" Cundu asked, his lips curled into an evil smirk.
"Where are my chambers, Prince? Was that not where you were to lead me? Indeed, we have past the limits of the city now and are wandering in the wild." She said, she had all the time been taking note of where she was being lead, but had been careful to not mention it in her conversation.
"You receive no chambers, bastard. I get to kill you." Cundu said, drawing his sword.
"Hmmm . . . Mother will be absolutely shocked when I do not join her for breakfast in the morning. What are you planning on telling her? That, at the peak of my health, I suddenly passed away in the night?" Honora said, not bothering that she had not really made an arrangement with Calwa. "You have made no such arrangement." Cundu said, testing the grip of his sword.
"Truly? But how would you know? Would you risk the rumors of the people of Middle-Earth, spreading about you that you had killed your own defenceless sister?" She asked. "It would be quite hard for you to get a wife with such gossip about."
Cundu's eyes flashed in anger. "You speak too much for my liking, Sister." He truly did have the manner of Kirok.
"Do you think I'm stupid, Cundu? That I would enter these woods without someone knowing where I was. Perhaps, I have the entire armies of Gondor waiting for my return, and the fearless Riders of Rohan. Would you risk Firien in open war with the Men that surround it?" She asked.
"You do not. Why would those Men have a care for you?" Cundu asked.
Before Honora could answer, a great cry came from up above and two taloned claws lifted Cundu into the air a few feet. He cried out in alarm, but Lokrantara did not harm him, merely set him down a good two hours walk from Honora and returned to the spot Honora had been.
"I thank you my friend, I would not truly put up arms against that child. Arrogant and cruel, truly he must be Holraldir's favorite child." Honora said, climbing onto the Eagles back. "Fly now, to Minas Tirith. Then I will free you from my burdensome weight and you may fly free once more."
They flew for many hours and then rested both near the outskirts of Druadan Forest. They would reach Minas Tirith in the morning the next day. The night was hot, and sleep did not come easily for Honora so she silently got from her place, careful not to wake the sleeping bird in the tree above her and went for a walk in the forest.
Legolas fought the sleep that was trying to overpower him, the rhythmic rocking of the Great Wolf beneath him did not help any. He feared the dreams he would have that night, for the one he had had the night before in Lorien had filled him with the longing to see Honora again, and yet he knew that he could not.
He thought of anything he could, but her. About different arrow types, and fighting maneuvers, about horses, and trees and the rising and setting of the sun in Lorien. The darkness of Mirkwood, yet the joy he felt there when amongst friends. He thought of his family. Thranduil, King of Mirkwood, somehow though all he could think about was how his fathers stony face would change into a bright smile if ever he laid eyes on Honora at his side.
Legolas sighed in frustration and eventually sleep claimed him. He lay sprawled out on the back of Tzarinita, the soothing rocking of the beasts body as it ran soon lulled him to sleep.
He could hear the sound of rushing water near-by, then he opened his eyes. He was in a forest and indeed it looked familiar, yet it was not Mirkwood as he had feared. His eyes fell on a statue of an ancient King of Men and then he knew why it was so familiar. This was the forest Boromir had fallen in. He was near the Falls of Rauros.
Slowly he began towards the water, not knowing what else to do. If this was indeed another dream of Honora, he figured he would soon see her. And see her he did, once he emerged from the forests edge where the water fell.
She stood silently on a rock outcropping over the falls, her back turned to him and her head bowed. She wore a thin white and silver gown, the folds of the skirt and sleeves flapping wildly in the wind. She turned her head and looked him straight in the eye. He saw tears running down her cheek.
"Valinor." She said quietly then stepped over the edge of the cliff.
Legolas stared in horror as he watched her fall. He cried out and ran to the side but he could do nothing. He watched as she crashed into the rocky water below, she did not surface again. Tears fell from his eyes as he knelt on the edge of the same outcropping she had been on.
Legolas sat up with a start, his heart was beating like a runaway horse and he felt the tears of his dream flowing down his face. He looked up at the moon shining over head and glared. The wolf had obviously set him down somewhere and probably gone off to hunt.
He did not understand what this dream meant, the first he had been sure of. She had wished to return with him to Mirkwood and then all would be good. Yet this time, he had not caught the reason. Would she destroy herself if he refused her? Is that what she had meant? She had said Valinor, her fathers kingdoms name. Had she meant they would meet in Valinor and be together?
He grew frustrated quickly and got to his feet. Would she continue to haunt his dreams? he wondered. He looked down to the grass around him and soon found Tzarinita's tracks leading away from him. He followed them for a long while and eventually came upon the sleeping form of the Wolf. Beside him lay the skeleton of what was once a deer. He sighed, it was not right to wake the Wolf yet, not after he had carried him so long and so far. He angrily sat down next to a tree, but in his mood he snapped a twig.
The Wolf was instantly away, his huge grey eyes shining palely in the reflection of the moon. He sniffed the air and his head turned straight to Legolas. Tzarinita cocked his head to the side at the aggravated Elf, it was a rare mood for the Elves he had met, though he had heard rumor of the King of Mirkwood's temper and no doubt it had been passed on to his son.
"What's wrong?" The Wolf asked.
"Nothing, go back to sleep. I'm keeping watch." Legolas answered.
"You sleep. I will keep watch. Though I am sure it is not necessary." Tzarinita said, still not understanding what was wrong with the Elf.
"I cannot sleep." Legolas said, not offering any other explanation.
"Would you wish to move on then?" Tzarinita asked.
"Where are we now?"Legolas asked.
"Near the southern edge of Forest Fangorn." Tzarinita answered. "The Entwash river is not far. We should reach the city by nightfall should we leave now."
"If you would wish to depart then I would as well." Legolas said.
The Great Wolf knelt down and Legolas gently climbed onto the beasts back. They soon were past the dense trees of Fangorn. The moon shone brightly through he clear sky down on their travel and far up above Tzarinita heard the cry of an Eagle.
"She is above us." He said, his eyes looking upward but seeing nothing. The ears of Wolves were far keener than that of the Elves, but Elven eyes were far sharper than any other being on Middle-Earth with perhaps the exception of the Eagles.
Legolas looked up and after a moment he saw the dark outline of an Eagle on the star speckled backdrop above. He took a deep breath and diverted his gaze. He could feel Honora's eyes upon him as she passed and he felt guilt wash over him. He had asked for her love and now, when she returned it, was was turning it away.
"Mme selma quet mi i osto."(We will speak in the city) He heard her voice within his head. He looked up again and saw that the eagle she was mounted upon was almost a mile past them already.
His shoulders sank down in dread, he truly did wish that they did not speak once they reached their destination. He had never been as good with words as he had been with blade or bow. It would be very hard for him to express to her the need to forget him without losing his temper.
AN: I want to thank Carol for e-mailing me and giving me a kick in the butt for not updating. If it ever happens again in the future, don't be afraid to e-mail me to tell me to get my ass in gear.
AN: Okay, um. . . I actually hate this chapter but it's almost necessary cause I make reference to it in a later chapter and I really like that scene so sorry, your just going to have to bear with me. But to make up for it, I added another two pages that I was going to leave for next chapter, and I really like those two pages so. . . maybe two pages of good will make up for four pages of bad, right?
Reviews:
Red Demon: Oh she gets her dark side in later chapters. heh heh heh. but your just going to have to wait for that. And thanks for that tip, I'll have to watch that I'm not making Legolas int a he-she . . . I don't think too many of you would be pleased with that.
silverdust: yeah isn't he just adorable? Doens't it just make you want to take him home and lock you in your bedroom? . . . I mean. . . SHHH. lol. thanx for the review!
The wind whipped through her short blonde hair as the eagles great wings glided through the air. The morning was bright, not a cloud to be seen for miles, but her mood was still dampened. Honora carried the pearl white box of Airehyanda under her right arm as the landscape of Rohan passed quickly beneath her.
Do not deceive yourself, he had said. Was that what she was doing? Was she a fool to believe that she could truly love? She had sworn when she was younger, that she would love a real being from Middle-Earth or no one at all. She would not have her father create a love for her, as he had done for himself.
Her mother was wonderful, yes, but she seemed to lack the warmth of life that the beings of Middle-Earth possessed. She had never walked upon the lands she saw within the looking room, never met the people she watched go about their affairs. She had never seen the sun rise or set, nor the moon wax and wane. Honora had felt pity for the woman who had born and raised her.
But now, she was not quite sure whether she should be pitying her mother or herself. At least her mother felt love, and it was returned. Honora was not so sure of Legolas' feeling now. Did he continue to feel the same as she? Or had the words of her father deterred him from her? Would she lose love now? After it had come so close? Indeed that was what she could foresee.
She was drawn out of her thoughts when Lokrantara gave a loud cry, they were approaching the edge of Firien Wood. Honora took a deep breath and told the eagle to land in the Eastern Park. She slid off the Eagles back, and walked over to the great tree. A mallorn, as those of Lorien stood by itself in the middle of the park, it's shimmering leaves swaying in the slight breeze. She drew the hood of her cloak over her head, to avoid being recognized.
She knelt beside the tree and dug her hands in the freshly disturbed dirt from the removal of Airehyanda. She gently set the box down in the hole she had created and buried it again with care, so none could tell the earth had been disturbed there.
She sat back on her heels, looking up at the beauty of it's leaves for many moments, too many. For in that time, she made up her mind, she was going to visit Holraldir. She stood up and silently slipped through the forest, not even the keenest Elven eyes would have been able to see her passing.
She stopped in the trees before the guarded gate of Holraldir's palace. "Fume, tirno arna mar. Fume." She whispered in a spell, the guards suddenly slouched and fell to the ground. As she drew closer, she could hear the soft sound of their snores.
Honora stealthily crept through the gate, towards the hall of the royal thrown room. The doors were open and many people were inside. Suddenly a sword came to her throat, she froze, her chin lifting defiantly.
"Who are you?" A voice hissed in her ear.
She turned her head slightly and her eyes widened in shock. "Ulor. . ." She whispered, but then after a moment she began to notice the subtle differences between them. For one, he was an Elf, his pointed ears could plainly be seen sticking through the pale blonde, like hers, of his hair. His eyes were not violet, but instead a brilliant green, like two tiny emeralds. His stance was the same, as was his build, yet there was a cold arrogance in him that her beloved brother had never possessed.
"I am a visitor." She said carefully.
"A visitor?" He asked in scorn. "A visitor who kills the royal guards and sneaks up on the palace of my father?"
His father? She stared at him, indeed she had only seen the son of Holraldir when he had been in the cradle. That had been two thousand years ago and much had changed since then. She had not accounted for an overprotective son watching out for Holraldir.
"How is father?" She asked quietly.
"Cundu! You are late for your lesson!" The familiar voice of Holraldir called from the room beyond them.
Her captor glared, roughly took her arm and, keeping his sword to her throat, pushed her into the thrown room. She saw the aged figure of her second father sitting in his thrown, with his wife beside him. Never before had she seen Calwa sit at his side in the thrown room.
"Whats this?" Holraldir demanded of his son.
"A visitor, supposedly." Cundu said snidely, ripping the hood off her head.
Honora lifted her gaze to meet the kings, she watched as his face paled. Calwa gave a gasp, her hand going to her throat in a gesture of shock. An uncomfortable silence fell on the room as the king tried to find the words to greet his visitor.
Indeed, the king was surprised. He had never expected any of his first children to dare return to him, least of all his daughter. The only reason she too had been banished, was to prevent her overprotective brother, Ulor, from coming back for her. He had not even bothered to tell his youngest son of his three older siblings. And now. . . he looked upon her, frowning at the leggings and blouse he saw under the cloak and the way her beautiful golden hair had been cut short.
"My dear, what have they done to you? Was Ulor trying to turn you into a man? You poor thing?" Holraldir said after a long moment.
"Me? A poor thing? Nay! I chose this for me. It is your son, Cundu, who is indeed a poor thing. Does it pain you, Holraldir, to have him look so alike your first son?" She asked in scorn. "But he is a mere shadow of what Ulor was."
Anger came to the kings face at her words, but Calwa quickly quenched it. "Why are you coming here to stir up trouble, my dear?"
"Excuse me, would anyone mind telling me what's going on here?" Cundu asked angrily at being compared to another, his sword pressed closer to Honora's throat.
"My son, this is your older sister." Holraldir said slowly, obviously reluctant to reveal the information.
"My sister?" The prince asked in shock his sword falling to his side.
"And what of your brothers, Honora? How do they fare?" Calwa asked timidly, for it had not been in her heart to send her first three children away, even though Ulor had not truly been hers.
"Both dead." Honora answered unemotionally. Tears came to her second mothers eyes. "Kirok . . . he . . . succumbed to darkness and murdered Ulor in the Dead Marshes of Mordor. I avenged Ulor before the gates of Minas Tirith."
"You murdered your own brother!" Holraldir cried in alarm.
"He was no longer my brother, an Orc! I refused to be related to a mockery of the glory of Elves." She said angrily.
"I welcome you into the forests of Firien once more, Honora. I have long regretted my decision." Holraldir said after a moment.
"As I knew you would, yet I reject your offer. There is none of my heart left in these woods . . . it lies in another." She said quietly.
"Then rest now, and be on your way, if you must. We offer to you our hospitalities." Calwa said sadly.
Honora nodded and bowed her head, then turned on her heel to walk out of the thrown room. Cundu had been ordered to escort her to her chambers. They walked in silence for many moments before either spoke.
"What crime did you commit to make father banish you?" Cundu finally asked, his voice filled with arrogance, he was after all the heir to Firien.
She turned to him, anger written all over her face at his tone. "Let me remind you, Prince, you are only the heir to this kingdom due to the deaths of two before you. We had plans to murder you before you had even come yet of age. And do not forget that, for Ulor was twice the man you will ever be.
"We stole the Everstone and were granted with eternal life. I will live, ageless, until the ends of time." She snapped. That was what they had been accused of, for Holraldir became suspicious when Ulor aged the same as they. He should have been dead long before she had reached her thousandth year but he had not, and that was why they had been banished. He was completely oblivious to the true reason and Honora planned on keeping it that way . . . for the moment.
"My father would have killed you all if you had so much as lain a finger on me, you know that." Cundu returned, undaunted by her threat.
Honora laughed. "The weapons of Elves, Men nor Dwarves can harm me, what would do? Beat me to death with your hands?" She asked sarcastically. "You are not my brother. And remember that. For a time will come that you will wish you were of the same heritage as I."
"What are you? The bastard child of one of Father's maidens?" Cundu asked, his lips curled into an evil smirk.
"Where are my chambers, Prince? Was that not where you were to lead me? Indeed, we have past the limits of the city now and are wandering in the wild." She said, she had all the time been taking note of where she was being lead, but had been careful to not mention it in her conversation.
"You receive no chambers, bastard. I get to kill you." Cundu said, drawing his sword.
"Hmmm . . . Mother will be absolutely shocked when I do not join her for breakfast in the morning. What are you planning on telling her? That, at the peak of my health, I suddenly passed away in the night?" Honora said, not bothering that she had not really made an arrangement with Calwa. "You have made no such arrangement." Cundu said, testing the grip of his sword.
"Truly? But how would you know? Would you risk the rumors of the people of Middle-Earth, spreading about you that you had killed your own defenceless sister?" She asked. "It would be quite hard for you to get a wife with such gossip about."
Cundu's eyes flashed in anger. "You speak too much for my liking, Sister." He truly did have the manner of Kirok.
"Do you think I'm stupid, Cundu? That I would enter these woods without someone knowing where I was. Perhaps, I have the entire armies of Gondor waiting for my return, and the fearless Riders of Rohan. Would you risk Firien in open war with the Men that surround it?" She asked.
"You do not. Why would those Men have a care for you?" Cundu asked.
Before Honora could answer, a great cry came from up above and two taloned claws lifted Cundu into the air a few feet. He cried out in alarm, but Lokrantara did not harm him, merely set him down a good two hours walk from Honora and returned to the spot Honora had been.
"I thank you my friend, I would not truly put up arms against that child. Arrogant and cruel, truly he must be Holraldir's favorite child." Honora said, climbing onto the Eagles back. "Fly now, to Minas Tirith. Then I will free you from my burdensome weight and you may fly free once more."
They flew for many hours and then rested both near the outskirts of Druadan Forest. They would reach Minas Tirith in the morning the next day. The night was hot, and sleep did not come easily for Honora so she silently got from her place, careful not to wake the sleeping bird in the tree above her and went for a walk in the forest.
Legolas fought the sleep that was trying to overpower him, the rhythmic rocking of the Great Wolf beneath him did not help any. He feared the dreams he would have that night, for the one he had had the night before in Lorien had filled him with the longing to see Honora again, and yet he knew that he could not.
He thought of anything he could, but her. About different arrow types, and fighting maneuvers, about horses, and trees and the rising and setting of the sun in Lorien. The darkness of Mirkwood, yet the joy he felt there when amongst friends. He thought of his family. Thranduil, King of Mirkwood, somehow though all he could think about was how his fathers stony face would change into a bright smile if ever he laid eyes on Honora at his side.
Legolas sighed in frustration and eventually sleep claimed him. He lay sprawled out on the back of Tzarinita, the soothing rocking of the beasts body as it ran soon lulled him to sleep.
He could hear the sound of rushing water near-by, then he opened his eyes. He was in a forest and indeed it looked familiar, yet it was not Mirkwood as he had feared. His eyes fell on a statue of an ancient King of Men and then he knew why it was so familiar. This was the forest Boromir had fallen in. He was near the Falls of Rauros.
Slowly he began towards the water, not knowing what else to do. If this was indeed another dream of Honora, he figured he would soon see her. And see her he did, once he emerged from the forests edge where the water fell.
She stood silently on a rock outcropping over the falls, her back turned to him and her head bowed. She wore a thin white and silver gown, the folds of the skirt and sleeves flapping wildly in the wind. She turned her head and looked him straight in the eye. He saw tears running down her cheek.
"Valinor." She said quietly then stepped over the edge of the cliff.
Legolas stared in horror as he watched her fall. He cried out and ran to the side but he could do nothing. He watched as she crashed into the rocky water below, she did not surface again. Tears fell from his eyes as he knelt on the edge of the same outcropping she had been on.
Legolas sat up with a start, his heart was beating like a runaway horse and he felt the tears of his dream flowing down his face. He looked up at the moon shining over head and glared. The wolf had obviously set him down somewhere and probably gone off to hunt.
He did not understand what this dream meant, the first he had been sure of. She had wished to return with him to Mirkwood and then all would be good. Yet this time, he had not caught the reason. Would she destroy herself if he refused her? Is that what she had meant? She had said Valinor, her fathers kingdoms name. Had she meant they would meet in Valinor and be together?
He grew frustrated quickly and got to his feet. Would she continue to haunt his dreams? he wondered. He looked down to the grass around him and soon found Tzarinita's tracks leading away from him. He followed them for a long while and eventually came upon the sleeping form of the Wolf. Beside him lay the skeleton of what was once a deer. He sighed, it was not right to wake the Wolf yet, not after he had carried him so long and so far. He angrily sat down next to a tree, but in his mood he snapped a twig.
The Wolf was instantly away, his huge grey eyes shining palely in the reflection of the moon. He sniffed the air and his head turned straight to Legolas. Tzarinita cocked his head to the side at the aggravated Elf, it was a rare mood for the Elves he had met, though he had heard rumor of the King of Mirkwood's temper and no doubt it had been passed on to his son.
"What's wrong?" The Wolf asked.
"Nothing, go back to sleep. I'm keeping watch." Legolas answered.
"You sleep. I will keep watch. Though I am sure it is not necessary." Tzarinita said, still not understanding what was wrong with the Elf.
"I cannot sleep." Legolas said, not offering any other explanation.
"Would you wish to move on then?" Tzarinita asked.
"Where are we now?"Legolas asked.
"Near the southern edge of Forest Fangorn." Tzarinita answered. "The Entwash river is not far. We should reach the city by nightfall should we leave now."
"If you would wish to depart then I would as well." Legolas said.
The Great Wolf knelt down and Legolas gently climbed onto the beasts back. They soon were past the dense trees of Fangorn. The moon shone brightly through he clear sky down on their travel and far up above Tzarinita heard the cry of an Eagle.
"She is above us." He said, his eyes looking upward but seeing nothing. The ears of Wolves were far keener than that of the Elves, but Elven eyes were far sharper than any other being on Middle-Earth with perhaps the exception of the Eagles.
Legolas looked up and after a moment he saw the dark outline of an Eagle on the star speckled backdrop above. He took a deep breath and diverted his gaze. He could feel Honora's eyes upon him as she passed and he felt guilt wash over him. He had asked for her love and now, when she returned it, was was turning it away.
"Mme selma quet mi i osto."(We will speak in the city) He heard her voice within his head. He looked up again and saw that the eagle she was mounted upon was almost a mile past them already.
His shoulders sank down in dread, he truly did wish that they did not speak once they reached their destination. He had never been as good with words as he had been with blade or bow. It would be very hard for him to express to her the need to forget him without losing his temper.
AN: I want to thank Carol for e-mailing me and giving me a kick in the butt for not updating. If it ever happens again in the future, don't be afraid to e-mail me to tell me to get my ass in gear.