Hi guys, I'm back! Sorry it took so long to update, things have been pretty hectic in my house recently. My Dad decided to redecorate the living room...Men and DIY. Enough said!
Here's the third installment of Alone. Hope you enjoy. And a great big thank you to Panneth, my Beta, for pointing out my mistakes!
Disclaimer: If you recognise it, I don't own it so please don't sue! It all belongs to the wonderful JRR Tolkien, except for Irinwë, Guillian, Molynwen, etc.
Chapter 3
Several weeks had passed since Legolas had spoken to Anyana and to most he seemed perfectly happy with his life in the Palace. He went about his royal duties with the fervour he had always shown and was never ignorant or disrespectful to any of his father's subjects. However this cool, exuberant exterior hid a more sullen, lonely interior, which he managed to repress, if only for a short time, whilst working. Legolas spent most of his time running errands and being generally helpful to his father, for he could not dwell on the unhappy thoughts and different places he would rather be if he kept his mind occupied.
Then something would happen that would make his mind return from its place in the clouds, and bring him back down to Middle Earth with a thud. Most of the time it was just little things, trivial really. Like today, as he walked through the gardens of his home, oblivious to everything but his musings, he had recalled the time he had spent with Estel in Imladris, in the time before the Fellowship. That single thought had been the start of a chain reaction of memories that had left him feeling miserable and more alone than ever.
Like when he and Gimli had travelled to Fangorn again after the War of the Ring; unfortunately his father had sent word for him, wanting to know his only son was safe, and for him to return home. And so their exploration had been cut short, Legolas unable to visit the Glittering Caves with Gimli and uphold his end of their bargain; a decision to this day he still regretted.
Or when he had travelled to the Shire to see the Hobbits once more, for soon he knew Frodo would go to the Grey Havens with Gandalf, Galadriel, and Elrond. This reminded him of the sorrowful fact that the elves were departing these shores to make way for the rule of Men. That in turn reminded him of the even more sorrowful fact that their King, Aragorn, his beloved friend, would one day pass from this world, as would Gimli and then he would be alone. At that time he would have no such friends to ease their passing.
This was too much for Legolas to bear. These thoughts had risen seemingly unbidden and they had overcome him. He could no longer control his memories, or the dark, depressing thoughts they led him to. He felt himself sink to the ground, but was unaware of the softness of the grass as he landed on it or the warm breeze that graced his pained features. The only thing he was aware of was the darkness that threatened to overtake him, and he welcomed it, knowing that his thoughts could trouble him no more if the darkness took him.
And take him it did.
Though he could see no sign of physical injury he knew that something was desperately wrong, and so with a great sense of foreboding, he picked up the limp form of the Elven Prince and made his way to the Healer as fast as he could.
He reached the House of Healing in record time. As he approached the entrance he kicked the doors open and immediately began shouting for a Healer to come quickly. An elleth [she-elf] with long, dark hair came running up the hallway in which he stood. Upon seeing the injured elf was the Prince, her eyes widened in shock and then she called to another two Healers to make haste and bring with them certain herbs that she might need.
She motioned for the elf to take the Prince into one of the secluded rooms on the left of the corridor they were currently stood in. The elf did as bidden and carefully laid Legolas down on the bed.
"What happened?" The Healer asked him, a note of urgency detected in her tone.
"I know not. I was walking in the gardens when I happened across him as he is now. First I thought him to be sleeping, but his eyes are shut." He said, gesturing to the patient's face.
Just then the two other Healers came into the room with the medicinal herbs she had requested.
With the help of her assistants, the healer he now knew to be Irinwë proceeded to examine Legolas with caution, lest she irritate any injuries further. When she had finished, there was a look of confusion on her face.
"He has no physical wounds, nor can I detect any trauma to his head. And there is no trace of poison..." Irinwë stated, more to herself than to anyone else. "Molynwen!" She called to one of her aides. "Please inform His Majesty of the situation immediately. Should he ask of the Prince's injuries, tell him you are unaware, but that I will explain when he arrives."
Molynwen nodded in response, and left on swift feet to find King Thranduil.
The elf that had brought Legolas to the Healers then spoke.
"Then you know what ails him, hiril nín [My Lady]?" He enquired, concern in his voice unmistakable.
Irinwë looked up to him, noticing him seemingly for the first time. She did not recognise him.
"I have an idea, but I would not speak of it until I had more proof, for an idea is all that it is. Might I ask your name, My Lord?"
"Yes, you may, My Lady. My na-" He was cut off in mid-sentence by the sound of the doors to the House being thrown open, and the almost undetectable sound of hurrying footsteps. It appeared that King Thranduil had arrived.
The mysterious saviour decided to take this opportunity to make his exit. Indeed, Irinwë did not even notice his leaving, so intent on speaking with King Thranduil was she.King Thranduil of Eryn Lasgalen hurried down the corridor to the private chambers where his son had recently been taken, the look on his face bordering on panic. The Assistant Healer sent to inform him, Molynwen he recalled, had not known the specific details about his son's condition, but had assured him that her Mistress, Irinwë, would rectify this upon his arrival. So he had made his way to the Healers as fast as he could, a thousand scenarios running through his mind and none of them good. He turned left to enter the chamber Molynwen had preceded him into and his gaze fell on Legolas. He stopped mid-stride, his eyes a mixture of shock and fear.
Irinwë pulled him from the thoughts of his son laying on the bed, saying, "My Lord, I thank you for your haste. I regret that you had to be called here at all."
"Of course, Irinwë. What is wrong with Legolas? He does not appear to be wounded..." Thranduil replied, confusion wrinkling his fair features. At first, Thranduil had feared he had not been quick enough, that his only son had died before he had gotten chance to say goodbye to him. On further observation, however, he noticed that his chest was rising and falling slowly, as if he were asleep.
"If His Highness would follow me into my rooms, I would share my opinions with him." She answered, her tone of voice indicating that the others present should not be an audience to what she had to say.
"Indeed. Lead on." The King replied, his tone flat.
King Thranduil then followed Irinwë into her office. The room was of a fairly decent size, but made to appear a lot smaller due to the shelves full of herbs and her exensive collection of healing books. At the far side of the room there was a large oak table, cluttered with various texts, and contraptions that Thranduil did not want to know what their uses were.
As Irinwë closed the door to her office, King Thranduil said,
"Forgive me for my disrespect, Irinwë, but I merely wish to know what is wrong with my son."
"Of course, Sire. I understand completely," Irinwë said, gesturing for him to take a seat. He accepted.
"Mistress Healer, please...what is wrong with Legolas?" He asked, worry evident in his voice.
Irinwë sighed softly to herself as she too took a seat. She looked directly into her King's eyes as she said, "My Lord, after examining Prince Legolas, I noticed, as you have done too, that he had no physical injuries. At this time, he remains unconscious. I fear that this was of his own doing." She paled visibly as she waited for Thranduil's reply. She knew he was not going to like this one bit. She was right.
"What?! Legolas would never intentionally harm himself –"
"No, Sire, I did not mean to imply in any way that the Prince had tried to take his life. What I meant was that the only way I can explain this situation, bearing in mind my experience as a Healer, is that for some reason he does not wish to awaken."
"But why would he wish such a thing? He has been perfectly content, he told me this himself. I do not understand..." Thranduil said, not able to comprehend this diagnosis at all.
"I know, My Lord. I, too, find it to be quite...extreme, but I am afraid that I can find no other reason that would explain the Prince's current state. I truly am sorry, Sire. I wish I could offer a better answer to your question," she said, truly meaning it.
"I understand. Please, tell me...what will you do now?" He said, still in a state of shock.
"All I can do is make sure that he is comfortable and recieves the nourishment his body needs, My Lord. Unfortunately, I cannot be sure how long he will remain like this. Of course, I will use all the resources at my disposal to find a way to help him."
"Thank you, Irinwë. Be sure to inform me of any change to his condition."
She nodded her acquiescence, and then he stood and left the room to take up a vigil by his son's bedside.A/N: So, what do you think? Please review and let me know! Tori
