~ To start anew ~
by Ola
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A/N~ Aii! Sorry it took me so long! Finals and moving out of dorm rooms. You can blame it on that. Or on little Estel, for he is partly to blame as well. I had a chapter written, but then he came in, and muddled every thing, because I couldn't just leave him hanging like that after giving him half a chapter. So here he is now, and the proud owner of the "make-ola-write-more-about-me-and-about-legolas-angst" tactic.
And then fanfiction.net decided not to work anymore. What's wrong with the world? *sigh*
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Part 7~ Dark winds of loneliness
When the young prince woke again, Vanyar was waiting at his side, dubiously eying something on the bed table. As the world refocused and the room stopped its slow spinning, Legolas glanced at the object holding the healer's attention and almost snickered, holding the laugh inside of him by pure will alone in order to hold Estel's earlier visit a secret as long as he could. It would do the little child's derrière no good if Lord Elrond learned of his son's illicit escapade. And that thought drew him to his prior contemplations. Who exactly was Estel?
Last I visited the fair Rivendell, Lord Elronds' progeniture counted one beautiful elven maid and two very impish young elves given the names of Elladan and Elrohir. The Lady of Imladris is long ago past to Valinor, and I greatly doubt Lord Elrond found himself a new spouse in so short a time since my last visit, not counting that the whole of Mirkwood would have known the fact in less time it took to speak the new Lady's name. Of all the elven realms, Mirkwood was known as the fastest spreading gossips. Ah yes, and how many misunderstandings flourished because of the flapping tongues of a certain few people? They talk so much they produce a breeze of their own! Legolas kept his smile purely internal while a few particular memories of pranks and the resulting scandals flashed through his mind. Pranks that strangely, always involved the Rivendell twins.
But no, that idea cannot hold a grain of truth. He went back to his musings while Vanyar busied himself with preparing yet another concoction. What then? He is half elven, but I strongly believe that all his children will have the pointed ears of their father, no matter who their mother might be. And I doubt either Elladan or Elrohir could have kept the presence of another brother a secret for long. They usually tell me everything. And when I say everything, I mean everything! Even some things I would gladly have spent the rest of my life not knowing. Yet another smile threatened to burst on his face, and this time, he could not manage to hold it. Fortunately, Vanyar had turned his back to him, and the younger elf calmed down long before his healer turned back to him again. It was strange really, how Estel made him smile so. Estel or simply thinking about anything even remotely connected to him. Well, that might be due to the fact that he has the twins for brothers, and life is never dull around them…It never was in the past at least. He stopped the direction of those thoughts before they could pull him down into a maelstrom of renewed pain and self-loating. Yes, life was not what is used to be, and never will again, and the young elf did not particularly wish to think about it at all, but neither did he want to spend his remaining days on Middle-Earth in a daze of sorrow.
So are you thinking about staying after all? A soft voice spoke in his head. A voice that asked questions worth thinking about. Am I?
Long he thought about the choice he could –and would- have to make. Vanyar's ministrations provided a brief respite from them, as a cup filled with dark amber liquid was thrust in front of his face, bringing him back to the real world for a moment.
"Drink."
"What is that? The same vile thing you're been pouring down my throat for the past fortnight?" The prince eyed the cup with a frown, not given to an exceptionally good mood in his current situation.
"Sush, impertinent youngling."
"Of course, oh great healer." Vanyar mock- glared at him, then tipped the cup, forcing Legolas to drink the contents lest they spill on his chin and drip on the bed sheets. Perhaps the healer tipped it a little too much, a gleeful smile playing on his face, for the young elf quite literally found himself up to his eyebrows in the bitter medicine. And no amount of glaring could wipe that silly smile off Vanyar's face.
Laugh all you want you …you…silly little elf! But despite those thoughts, meant to be handed on a platter with an impressive snort of indifference, the young elf found himself on the edge of tears. Again. And again he gritted his teeth until they ached, but that small pain was insignificant compared to the one he carried in his heart.
And it somehow grew heavier and harder to bear as time past. Time heals all pain? Now he did snort, and glared at the darkening sky, fuelling all his strength into the anger that smoldered deep inside him. At least it kept him from thinking about…other things.
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The sound of the door handle turning, and escaping from too-short little hands alerted Legolas of Estel's presence early next afternoon. This time, he proudly held a large brown feather in front of him.
"Look! Le-go-las!" His smile threatened to split his little face in two. "You said you couldn't go outside. So I brought you something from the gardens." Before the elf could emerge from his surprise at the little boy's thoughtfulness, Estel carefully deposited the feather into the first empty container he could find, which happened to be the tall cup the young elf had been drinking his medicines from. He trailed his little fingers along the soft edges of his present, obviously quite pleased with himself. "Do you think it's pretty?"
Legolas's mouth opened and closed a few times before any words came out. "Yes. It's very pretty Estel. Thank you."
The boy grinned, and amid his muddled thoughts, Legolas wondered how so young a child could make him feel so… cheerful and …unsettled at the same time. Well, perhaps not exactly cheerful, but it did make him stop feeling sorry for himself. At least for a little while. But as soon as he was alone, he knew he would be drawn back to his darker musings. There was no hope for him. Vanyar had said so. Even Lord Elrond had not found a cure for him. Because there is no cure. They know it, but wish to keep me unaware of the truth, hoping it may keep me alive for a little longer. A wave of anger swept through the prince, as strong as his weary body could endure, but like everything else, it too was short lived, followed very quickly by an immense sense of loneliness, a void in the pit of his stomach that grew and grew.
And why can I feel pain and misery while physical feelings are denied to me? Is that fair? No. Nothing is fair. Life is not fair. That thought brought him painfully close to tears again, and he blinked to prevent any such thing from happening. When the world came back into focus, Estel was sitting on a chair, his legs tucked underneath him, his big brown eyes looking at him curiously.
The elf sighed and breathed in deeply a few times before trusting to his voice, and even then it came out much weaker than he would have liked. "It must have come from a very big bird." Well, perhaps this was not the best manner to start a conversation, but Estel didn't seem to mind, or notice.
"Oh, it was big. This big," and he proceeded in showing the elf just how big the bird was, stretching his hands as far apart as he could. "And it was so pretty too! Ada said it was a hawk. I have never seen one before. And it fluffed its feathers, shaking all over" another demonstration followed "and dropped all those little fluffy feathers, and this big one! And when it flew off, I ran to pick it up. It was so soft. Touch it, see how soft it is!"
Touch it? Legolas would have snorted in disbelief if he was not so busy with the unexpected order and the sorrow it brought with it. Estel would decidedly keep on turning his world upside down, without being aware that he even did so. Because he doesn't know. And it should stay that way. Yes, and how will you comply with what he is asking of you? A sarcastic voice spoke in his mind, seemingly displaying none of the weariness of his real voice. Simply reach out from under the covers and stroke it?
With the pain and the feeling of deep loss, mingled shock, insecurity and… and an emotion he could not understand. It all combined to make him feel very unbalanced. He did not know what to think anymore. He knew he did not want to stay like this, oh, yes, he knew that beyond a doubt. But he also knew that there was nothing he could do about it. It gave him a strange kind of pleasure to wallow in self pity, and bring himself down, and yet, he welcomed young Estel and the relief the child brought, with open arms. He was glad to smile and to forget about himself, even if for only a little while.
It was in this uncertain state, balanced between accepting his fate and hurtling himself off an invisible edge that Lord Elrond found Legolas. He found something else too, or rather, a someone, in the presence of Estel. The expression on his face, however, remained carefully neutral, after the initial surprised glance at the young child. He had come to talk to the young prince, but had not expected to find the blond elf in such a state. He gave Estel another glimpse, and sighed, beckoning the child to him. The boy complied hastily, his little face set in worry and no little fear. Fear for what he may have done to Legolas, and fear at being discovered in this room.
"Legolas? I see you have met my son Estel?"
The question somehow brought Legolas out of his bewildered daze, and he managed a weak nod, looking at the elven Lord with eyes that still held some of his raging emotions.
"I suppose you may have been wondering how it was so, but such is a story for another time. Now, Estel," he continued, turning and kneeling to find himself at eye level with the boy. "No, you are not in trouble, and no I am not angry with you, but I want you to go to your room and wait for me there. Can you do that for me?" Some of the fear ebbed from the child's face and he tried a little smile. The tall elf smiled back encouragingly and ruffled his son's hair. The simple gesture was all it took to persuade young Estel that no, indeed, he was not in trouble, although he did not know why. He wasn't about to stay long enough to discover why, for his ada may change his mind, and then, he would have a long talk, and a wagging finger, and his ada would be sad, and so would he and…and…
…and he left with a last, anxious look at his new friend, before slipping past the door and closing it with a soft click.
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Perhaps he should have had that chat with Estel right away, perhaps he should not have sent him so soon to his room…perhaps he should have watched the child's whereabouts more carefully, perhaps he should have done many things he never found himself doing. And perhaps I am getting too old and my mind is wandering off… the Elf Lord thought with a chuckle. But his mirth was short lived as his eyes came to rest on the young prince. Of course, he had not expected to find him bouncing from joy on his bed, but neither had he expected the roiling emotions, plainly visible on Legolas's tired face. What had happened in this room? Was it something Estel had asked him? Elrond knew that the little mortal would not knowingly harm the elf, but…but he is a child, and children are wont to speak whatever they please, unaware of the consequences such questions may bring.
He let a soft sigh escape him, the only concession to his own worries, and waited a moment for Legolas to at least find a resemblance of peace before coaxing him to speak about what had upset him so. And coax he did, word by word, as tensed and unhappy about this kind of proceedings as the one being interrogated. But it is for the best. I have to know if ever I am to help him, the older elf tried to excuse his actions.
But what if he does not want to be helped? What…what if he wishes to depart against all your desperate grabbing and holding him back? But…Thranduil…surely Legolas knows what this decision will cost his father…surely…he is too young to wish to leave! That persistent voice kept nagging the back of his mind. As painful as it was, he could not get rid of it, and tried all the harder to make Legolas talk.
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Tears now rolled down his cheeks, unimpeded. It didn't matter anymore. His was too tired, to angry, and too lost to care. Nothing mattered except the pain. Pain cold not even describe exactly what he felt, for physical pain he could endure, but this? This tearing of his mind? This…this hole awaited his stumbling footsteps? This…
…why doesn't he leave me alone!? I don't want to talk about it. I…I can't…
Had he spoken it aloud, his voice would have broken on the last word. If he had a voice left.
But it didn't feel as if he had anything left. No freedom, no archery, no limbs, no life… His mind could not even encompass his loss. The loss that Lord Elrond's "talk" had made painfully clear. The memories and thoughts he had shoved to the darkest corner of his mind were unearthed and brought into light, to be looked at and analyzed from every side. Things he had thought he really had forgotten were remembered, things that became as new and that hurt as much as seconds-old sword blades cut. It hurt. It hurt so damn much, and still the Eldar went on, prodding his mind, no, letting him do all the searching, despite his pleadings to stop. It felt as if he had spent the past year in a cave, deep under ground, with no light, desperately searching for the way out, knowing quite well that he would never find it. That he would perish in blindness and horrible silence. Alone.
As alone as he was now.
Lord Elrond had silently left some time ago, unnoticed by the younger elf, who now lay utterly spent on his bed, barely able to roll his head away from the door. The pillow felt wet against his cheek, after absorbing what seemed like hours of wracked sobbing. He was even too tired to cry, or too numb to care, or both. And yet, sleep would not come, no matter how hard he willed it to do so. No, sleep did not come, nor did anyone else either. The sun sank behind the trees, dusk came and went, and the young elf's room was plunged into gloom. Finally, night came as well, and still no footsteps were heard outside his door. No voices asking to come in. No one.
Legolas's anger at the Elven Lord disappeared as well, as much because it cost too much of his strength to fuel the hungry dragon of rage, as because he suddenly felt very small, and very scared. The night seemed darker, and colder. The wind held none of its usually warm melody, and whistled hauntingly through the canopy of dark trees that swayed outside the open balcony. Warmth and sunlight seemed too far away to ever come back to this world. Never had Legolas felt so lonely and so vulnerable in his long life, even alone on scouting missions far, far away from home.
And then, an even colder and drearier feeling flittered through his mind.
Is…is this what death is like?
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A/N~ yay! Fanfic works again! =) thanks for reviewing!
-cheysuli- *grins* thanks. And I WILL use those ideas, after I'm done with the depression, the angst, the bad feelings… =)
-vuaryn- yep, she does =) glad you're still hanging one =)
-ophelia- no more rain, but no more school either! Well, rumors will have to stay rumors I'm afraid =) (partly because I wasn't there at the time, and as gossipy as Mirkwood is, it's also very tight lipped when dealing with strangers. *sigh*)
-eck- homework. Ah, yes. That evil thing =) hope you give it a good kick in the backside! =)
-crazygirly- aiii! No, wait, don't say anything. Nope, he's not here, and I'm not sure he'll be there in the next one either. Very sorry. But he WILL be back! I swear…just hold on a few…weeks *grins sheepishly and slowly backs away, eying the door* =). Loved your review by the way! "the grandfather of all cookies" lol. *grins*
-lady of dreams- hee hee. Lol. Yes, that's what I meant. Will have to go back and fix that. Thanks for pointing it out!
