~ To start anew ~

by Ola

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A/N~ Aii! Really really sorry! Why do I always have to be late? It seems that having vacations doesn't really give me more free time. *sigh* hope you'll forgive me. The next few chapters are already written though, so they should come up quite quickly (The beginning of this one was inserted later on, because of little Estel barging in =) so here it is. Hope you enjoy =)

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Part 8~ Storms and stars

I should not have pushed him so. I should have given him more time. I should have asked Thranduil to be there with him. The Lord of Imladris let out a sigh that spoke of how worried and unsure of his actions he was, even if the hectic pacing in his new quarters hadn't been enough of a clue. But Legolas was a puzzle to him. Never before had he seen and cared for a paralyzed elf, and frankly, he didn't know what to do. Yes, yes, the great and all powerful healer of Rivendell is out of his depth, the elder thought, sarcasm heavy in his mind voice, and no little worry because of how much truth this quip held. Finally, he forced himself to sit down, and dropped his head into his hands.

He knows the truth, about himself, about the future, about his choices. But they may not be choices he cares to make. However, he is the only one who can decide. As much as Thranduil, Vanyar or I wish him to stay, we can do little to sway him. Oh Eru, it is hard to let one so young go.

Think how hard this must be on Thranduil. He will not survive his son's departure.

This knowledge was one more heavy weight on Lord Elrond's shoulders. What he had told himself as a sardonic comment was quite true. He was out of his depth. He had done all he could, physically, to heal the young prince. He had read about that last medicine he had given Legolas, but had never actually used it on a patient before, which was not his usual method. He never gave someone a brew he had not researched heavily or tasted beforehand unless it was a dire emergency indeed. This was surely such an emergency, and yet, he did not feel comfortable doing such a thing.

Pfaa, this is not about comfort. It is about the youngling's life!

This indecision and self analysis was not helping at all! Really? Then why, in the name of Elbereth, did you ask Legolas to do exactly that? Find his center?

I simply laid the cards before him, and helped him turn them around, right face up. He is fully capable to play his life as he sees fit. But he needed to face his memories and his past. He could not go on living with that burden weighing him down.

Here it goes again. He could not "live." This is why you confronted him. You do not wish him to let his life go.

No! I do not! The Elven Lord felt anger slowly rising to the fore. No! I do not wish him to depart Middle Earth. Is that wrong of me? The choice is his, whatever I may do or tell him! But I will do everything in my power to keep him here as long as I can! He swiftly turned toward the open window, finding no peace in the trees that swayed an arm length away. His anger did recede though, to leave him shaking with weakness, both physical and psychological.

Oh Eru, why must it be so hard to help our loved ones? Why must we hurt them so to help them survive?

There was no answer for him. Only the whistling of the wind, growing ever stronger in the waning afternoon.

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The child sat primly on his bed, his feet tucked underneath him, his hands clasped together on his lap. Lord Elrond froze in the doorway, the image of his son lying on a bed, unmoving and pale, filtering briefly behind his eyelids. Dear Eru. It could have been him. It could have been Estel, or Arwen, or the twins, lying there, on that bed…The thought wrenched his heart, and he shuddered, unable to put away the hand of fear that closed around his chest, preventing him from breathing. Eru

"Ada?" He looked down as he felt the child tugging on his sleeve, looking up at him with eyes wide with incomprehension and worry. "I'm sorry Ada, I didn't mean to make you angry…I…I just wanted to make Le-go-las happy. You said he was sad. I don't want him to be sad ada. Ada?..." The Elven Lord kneeled down and wrapped his youngest son in arms that shook. "I'm not angry with you Estel," he murmured into the child's hair. "I'm proud of you little one. And I love you so much Estel. Oh Eru…" He couldn't stop a tear form sliding down his cheek. He quickly wiped it away, trying to regain a semblance of calm, while Estel waited patiently, hugging his ada.

He didn't understand why his ada was crying. He didn't know why everyone was sad. Was it something he had done? But ada said he wasn't angry. So what was it? He missed Elladan and Elrohir. He missed Arwen too, and her good-night stories. He missed seeing his ada smile. He tried very hard to be brave but a little tear slide down his face as well. He sniffled to keep his nose from running, and gripped his ada as hard as he could, hoping he would be happy again soon.

The sniffle and the sight of little Estel with teary eyes finally brought the Lord of Imladris out of his fog of sorrow. "I'm sorry Estel. I'm so sorry for making you cry little one." He reproached himself for falling apart like that before his son. He should have calmed down before venturing into Estel's room. One mistake piling on another.  He carefully dried the child's tears with whatever he could put his hand on first –which happened to be his sleeve-. "I never meant to make you sad." His smile grew upon seeing his son's face free of the shadows of misery. He sent Eru a prayer of thanks for granting him Estel, got up taking the child's hand in his own warm one, and promising himself to make it up to him somehow. Anyhow. But he could not bear to see Estel cry and unhappy.

Only then did he realize why it had hurt so much to talk to Legolas, and to tear from him the answer to his past. Because it hurt to harm the ones he loved. Legolas, Thranduil…both suffered, and he could not simply stand by, and wait for fate to bring some kindness into the world. That is why he became a healer. To stop the hurting and smooth the pain. A memory of his own flashed through his mind. It had been a day like any other in Rivendell when he had knocked on his father's door, then slipped inside like only an elfling could, and announced with all confidence that he wished to become a healer. His father had been overjoyed and had taken him into his arms, like he had not done for a long time. He remembered the feeling of pride and happiness, and how in turn, it made him incredibly glad.

Just as quickly as it had come, the memory was replaced by another, as the clouds darkened and rumbled with distant thunder. A haunting melody hang in the air like mist, enveloping everyone in a blanket of grief and sorrow. The late Lord of Imladris had perished. Elrond had been a youngling then, and the pain had been unbearable. He berated himself for being unable to help; for letting him slip between his fingers like water. It had gnawed at his heart night and day, never letting go, and leaving him a wreath of his former self. Only one more time did he suffer such a loss, at the departure of his dear wife. It hadn't hurt any less for knowing what it was. If anything, the pain had doubled as time passed.

He stifled the sob of pain as he was wrenched into the present, and clutched Estel's hand in his. Yes, he now understood why he tried so hard to keep Legolas in Middle Earth. He understood.

But he also knew he should let him fly loose, just like he had done with his own father and his wife, no matter how much it hurt.

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The curtains barely moved in the heavy air. The sky had darkened early, the gloomy clouds growing in size and strength. The room was stifling hot, but so was every other part of the palace, and no coolness would be found outside. Legolas was lying on his bed, carefully avoiding looking at the feather, which was now propped up by a new, clean, cup. So he stared at the open balcony and the rectangle of dark blue sky and darker branches of the trees. He, and every other elf in Mirkwood, waited impatiently for the storm to break, for even a hint of cool air to caress their face. The tension was palpable, and even the forest animals stood a silent vigil. Waiting. All waiting.

When the first lightning flashed through the sky, accompanied by the roar of thunder, the elven prince almost leapt out of his skin. The wind picked up, tearing at the soft fabric that hung from the windows, and a blissful coolness invaded the room.

Rain hammered on the roof and clicked against the rail of the balcony. The wind, after the initial blast, subsided, and the warmth returned. And Legolas continued to brood. He did not particularly want to feel proud and courageous and sensible at the moment. The weather was all too similar to his mood, and he wallowed in self-pity, taking a twisted satisfaction from his scrambled emotions. The longer the storm lasted, the warmer his face became, and the angrier he was. He had no particular wish to stop moping. He wanted to feel bad, and remember; to feel himself frown at the heavens, to rile at the gods. He could not forget Lord Elrond's words. Their harshness had cut deeply into his heart, as he had plunged into darkness to replay that horrendous day in his mind. He saw it even now, as afterimages much like the ones left burning on his eyelids after a lightning bolt. And he looked at them, not even trying to chase the misery away. He felt terrible; and he welcomed that feeling, plunging deeper and deeper into the darkness…

Another thunder resounded in a momentary lull, striking a nearby tree. Light exploded in his eyes, and Legolas instinctively wrenched himself away from the open window…and fell to the floor. His surprise and shock quite surpassed the hurt of his shoulder encountering the hard wooden floorboards. He blinked owlishly in the dark, looking up at his bed without understanding. When realization struck him, he wondered whether lightning strikes felt the same. A strange new light entered his eyes. He ground his teeth and painstakingly moved toward the window, shrugging his shoulders and wriggling at best he could, a thumb length at a time.

And curse fate for making me fall on the other side of the bed. The side away from the window. Aii Elbereth. His breath came in ragged and quick. Please make it work.

He stopped several times to recuperate the little strength he possessed, but his initial determination would not leave and after what felt like an entire age, the young prince dragged himself to the edge of the balcony, and simply lay where he was, panting and seeing stars.

Stars in a storm. Dear Eru. I knew I was mad. He chuckled, no more than a ghostly shadow of the usual, quiet laugh. Cold raindrops fell on his face, driven into the room by the wind. The musty smell of soil, the sound of rain striking leaves and stone, the feel of the wind sweeping sweat sodden hair out of his eyes. Sometime during that night, he realized how much he had missed being a part of the forest. To be free to run under the trees, and swim in chilly lakes. To feel the sun upon his face and look at the stars' eternal revolutions. To taste the snow on his tongue and the lush grass tickling his feet. All those things and more. And as unthinkable for him now as flight to a horse. His tears mingled with the rain. Salt and sweet. Unless…

Unless…I live.

Long he lay on the cool floor, sprawled as if asleep but for the look in his eyes. His eyes...focused on the few stars visible in between the thinning clouds, blown away by the wind. Cool air slowly replaced the warmth of the evening as more stars twinkled in and out of the hazy veils of the heavens. An owl hooted welcome to the calming elements, the low sound unheard by the young elf, too deep in his thoughts.

The stars waltzed in the sky,

                        The wind softly blew,

                        Darkness lost its sharp edge, as twilight softened the world,

                                                                        And the young elf let his hold on consciousness slip away.

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A/N~ I had written a little more in this chapter, but finally decided to attach that part to the next chapter because this ending is much better. Hope you don't mind too much =)

This chapter was used to –hopefully- put Lord Elrond in a better light. Poor elf, he is trying very hard to do what he thinks is best, but it isn't always working…

No comments today. I'm sorry, but I don't have much time as it is, and I'm trying to post this as quickly as I can before something else comes up that will postpone the story. But I really DO appreciate all your reviews. I am grateful that you take the time to drop a note, and hope you'll continue to do so.

~Ola~