La de da, new chapter. Don't really know what to say, so on with the chapter!
Faerlain.
Rayame325 – Yeah, Thral's getting better! Thanks for reviewing.
Lindele – Yup, lotta stuff! Thanks for reviewing.
Chapter 17: Always share your grief.
Legolas sat on the end of his bed, head in hands. He was by himself. He needed to be by himself.
A tear fell at his feet. It was followed by another, and another. He couldn't hold them back. They fell freely and willingly. There was no one to see him cry, no one to see him be weak.
He choked back a sob. He felt as if he would burst with all the emotions bottled up inside him. He needed to let them go, take out his anger on something, his grief on something else. But what?
All he could do was cry.
And cry he did. Tear after tear trickled down his cheeks, dripping through his fingers, falling to the floor. Small sobs escaped his lips, echoing into the silence.
He jumped to his feet and slammed his fist into the nearest wall. He felt no pain, saw no blood dripping down his fingers, heard no crack of his knuckles. He just felt the numbness of loss. The sorrow of parting, the grief that followed death. The emptiness of life.
Dinnu was dead.
Dead.
Gone. Forever.
He was never coming back.
He had left this world for all eternity.
Faded.
Dead.
Legolas smashed his fist up against the wall again, the anger in his soul creeping to the surface. He did not care for physical pain, only the pain in his mind. The sting of death, clawing its way through his spirit, tugging him deeper into his misery.
The world spun, and he sunk to the floor, leaning against the wall. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, trying to calm himself down. The anger left him, to be replaced by realisation. Pure realisation and pure sorrow. He opened his eyes and peered at his bloodied hand. Now he could feel the pain. His knuckles throbbed; the skin was torn and bleeding. He couldn't uncurl his fingers; it hurt too much. The pain shot up his arm, but he cared not.
He let his hand hang limply at his side. He stared out of the window.
The sun was shining. It was a typical summer afternoon. Birds were singing, horses were neighing and snorting in their stables, the River was thundering along as always. Rivendell was quieter than usual, due to the tasks at hand, but still, life seemed to be continuing more or less as normal.
The tears had stopped. His eyes felt swollen and sore. Wet trails led down his face, the blood still trickled slowly out from his knuckles. He still felt numb. He could only feel the firmness of the wall behinds him, and the emptiness of the room in front.
He shut his eyes again, entered his own, dark world. He wanted to be alone like this.
He needed to be alone.
Celeblaith skipped along the hallway. Today was a good day. Her mother was here, Lady Celebrían seemed to be getting better, as did all of the injured Elves, and it was Summer!
But where was her brother? Where was Legolas?
She came to his room, and listened at the door. She could hear nothing from within. No sound. She knocked gently.
"Legolas? Legs, are you in there?"
No reply. She knocked again. "Greenleaf?"
He had to be in there. He was nowhere else in Rivendell. At least, not the House, and Galu was still in her stable.
She tried the handle. The door was unlocked, and so she walked in.
It was cold inside. She shivered a little, and shut the door. Her eyes scanned over the room, and came across her brother, slumped up against one wall, eyes closed.
"Legolas!"
She ran over to him, falling to his side. "Oh Gods, Legolas wake up!" She shook his shoulder, then saw the dried blood on his hand. She looked up at the wall, and could see where he had hit it earlier. She cursed out loud.
She went back to the door and flung it open. Peering up and down the hallway, she looked out for anyone who could fetch her mother. But there was no one around. She left it open, just in case, and ran to the window instead.
There were people walking around, but none she seemed to recognise. She went back in, and covered Legolas with a blanket. She checked the hallway again, but it was still deserted.
She went back to the window. She searched desperately for someone she knew, but there was no one. Just as she was about to give up and call out to a random passer-by, she saw Arwen turn the corner.
"Lady Arwen!" she called.
Arwen looked up, as did a few others. "Celeblaith? What's the matter?"
"Quick, fetch your father, or Naneth, or someone! Then bring them here.""But where are you?"
"Legolas' room. Quickly, hurry!"
Arwen turned and ran. Celeblaith went back inside and knelt down beside her brother. "Don't worry Greenleaf, you're going to be ok," she whispered, gripping his good hand in hers.
Arwen arrived a few minutes later with both Eilianu and Glorfindel. Eilianu cried out and rushed to her son's side. Glorfindel helped the trembling Celeblaith to her feet. "Celeblaith, what happened? You have to tell me what happened."
"I don't know," she answered. "I came in here, and he was just slumped up against the wall like that. I covered him with a blanket, and called for help."
"His knuckles have been bleeding," Eilianu told them, carefully examining Legolas' hand.
"He hit the wall," Celeblaith told them. "You can see the mark."
Glorfindel went and looked. "He hit it more than once," he said grimly. "There are two separate marks, one with blood smeared across it."
"But why would he do that?" Celeblaith asked. "Why would he just randomly hit a wall?"
"In anger?" Glorfindel suggested.
Eilianu nodded. "Yes. In anger. He's done it before. When he was younger…something happened…his first horse died. He was still young, but he thought it was his fault that the animal had died. It was purely of old age, but he thought he had done something wrong. He blamed her death on himself. When people grieve, they go through different stages. First comes denial. The person cannot accept that whoever died has passed away. They refuse to acknowledge the fact. Then comes anger. They may be afraid that it could happen to them, or another one close to them. They can come up with all sorts of ideas that caused the death to be somehow their fault. Then finally, they manage to accept it. They can begin to move on. Sadness is present throughout. When Legolas' horse died, he seemed to skip the denial stage, and went straight onto anger. I can remember comforting him all night once. He cried non-stop. He was angry, he felt betrayed. It is strange, losing someone close to you. Even if it is your horse. When he did accept it, he was a different person. Back to the old, bubbly Legolas we all knew and loved."
Glorfindel nodded in agreement. "I know exactly what you mean. I have seen many Elves lose loved ones, people close to their hearts. It is a haunting process, grieving."
"He is grieving for Dinnu," Celeblaith said quietly. "Dinnu died, he was killed during the battle. Legolas has hardly said a word about it. He has cried, but only briefly."
"This is not good," Eilianu muttered, feeling Legolas' forehead. "He's cold. We need to get him into bed."
Glorfindel stepped forward, and lifted the lithe Prince up off the floor and onto his bed. Celeblaith sat on one side of him, gripping his good hand, and Eilianu stood n the other, checking him over.
"He's not fading is he?" Celeblaith asked timidly.
Eilianu shook her head. "I do not think so. At least I hope not. He has just gone too deeply into his grief." She looked at her youngest child. "Celeblaith, I need you to do me a favour."
"Yes Naneth?"
"Go to my room. Fetch the herbs that are in the small bag on the vanity that is opposite my bed. In fact…just bring the whole bag. Quickly, go."
Celeblaith stole one last glance at her brother before she turned and ran from the room.
Eilianu turned back to her son. "What can I do?" Glorfindel asked.
"Fetch me a bowl of hot water and some clean cloths. Don't fill the bowl all the way up. I am going to crush the herbs that Celeblaith brings back into the water, and make him breathe the vapours in. That should help." Glorfindel nodded and left.
Celeblaith ran along the hallway as fast as she could. Several Elves gave her astonished glances as she flashed by, a whip of golden lightening, hurtling along Rivendell's corridors.
Elladan was strolling through the hallways at a leisurely pace. Things were turning out for the better. His mother was making a good recovery, and people that had been involved in the fight were also recovering.
Suddenly, he saw Celeblaith running full-pelt down the hall towards him. He stopped, and grabbed her arm as she reached him. "Wait Cel," he told her.
She turned to him, breathing heavily, her hair at odd angles. "Let me go Dan, I've got to get something for Naneth."
"What's the rush? Calm down for goodness sake."
Celeblaith took a deep breath, and let her breathing get back to normal. She looked at him desperately. "It's Legolas," she stated. "He's hurt. But I don't how exactly, or how badly. Go to his room, you'll see what I mean." She wrenched her arm out of his grasp, and hurried on to Eilianu's chambers.
Elladan stood there stunned, rooted to the spot. Legolas was hurt? How? He started running to Legolas' room.
Round the corners, dodging people as they appeared. Muttering apologies if he bumped someone as he ran, but he had to get to Legolas' room. He took the stairs two or three at a time, and then straight ahead to Legolas' room.
He went straight in through the open door and found Eilianu bent over her son, tucking the covers up tighter around his body. She looked up at him.
"Elladan, thank goodness you're here. I was just about to send for either you or your brother."
It took a few seconds for Elladan to realise that she hadn't got him mixed up with his twin. He pulled a confused face. "How do you know I'm…?"
"Elladan? I don't know how I can tell you and Elrohir apart, I just can. Come here. Take hold of Legolas' hand, and talk to him for me."
"What's wrong with him?" the Prince asked as he sat in the unoccupied chair.
"He is grieving. He was left alone too long. I should have known not to leave him alone."
"Grieving?"
"Aye, for Dinnu of course."Elladan felt his heart stop. Oh dear…
"What do you mean?" he asked.
Eilianu looked sharply at him. "You do not know?" Elladan shook his head. She sighed and sat down opposite him. "Dinnu got killed during the fighting. Roundabout the same time Celebrían was taken. Legolas did not know until he found his body, after the fighting was over."
Elladan felt sick. "I had no idea…" he whispered. "I was so preoccupied with getting Amil back here safely…I didn't even realise. He seemed ok to me. Bit stunned after the fight obviously, but…"
Eilianu smiled reassuringly. "Look, don't worry about it. You had more important things on your mind. Dinnu couldn't be saved; your mother could. And Legolas knew and understood that. That's why he said nothing about Dinnu. He knew it was too late to save him, but not Celebrían."
"So he bottled everything up, just like he always does."
Eilianu nodded. "Yes. That seems to be his weakness with everything. With grief, anger, sorrow, love…"
She continued to work in silence, wrapping Legolas' broken hand in soft cloths until Glorfindel and Celeblaith got back. She took a variety of herbs out of the bag, and crushed them up in her hand. She then sprinkled them over the steaming water, and covered it with a cloth. "Sit him up," she told Elladan.
He sat on the edge of the bed, and held Legolas upright in his lap. His mind flitted back to 500 years before when Legolas had been poisoned. He had had to feed the Prince another poison to counter that one. He would do it again if needs be.
Eilianu cupped the bowl carefully in her hands, and held it under Legolas' face. Celeblaith was stood at the foot of the bed with Glorfindel, gripping his hand tightly. She knew her brother wasn't in mortal danger, but she had never seen him like this before. Drastically pale, hardly breathing…
Elladan felt the body in his grip relax a little. "He's tense," he told the Queen. "But the herbs are helping. Hold the bowl there."
They sat there for a few minutes, until the steam had all vaporised away. Eilianu handed the bowl to Glorfindel, who placed it on the vanity. "He should wake up in the next hour or so," she told them. "Give or take a few minutes." She turned to her daughter, and held out her arms.
Celeblaith ran over and held her mother tightly. All the mixed emotions of the past few weeks came pouring out, and she cried and cried, clinging to Eilianu for comfort.
Glorfindel took the bowl and herbs, and with a last glance at the Queen, left. Eilianu smiled gratefully at him, and he gave an understanding one back.
Elladan still held the sleeping Elf in his arms. He cradled Legolas against his chest, whispering in his ear. "You had better wake up Greenleaf," he murmured. "Elrohir will kill me if he finds out I let anything happen to you now. Not to mention your sister, Arwen, and Dolenmíl."
Celeblaith pulled away form her mother and went and sat on the other side of her brother. "His poor hand," she whispered through her tears, stroking the bandaged fist.
"It'll be fine," Eilianu assured her. "Now, you two stay here. I'll go and tell Lord Elrond what has happened." She kissed her daughter on the cheek, gave a loving look to her sleeping son, then left, her dress swirling around her heels.
Elladan sighed. "Nothing ever seems to go right when Legolas is concerned."
Celeblaith laughed. "That is all too true." She looked over at him. "You didn't know about Dinnu, did you?"
Elladan shook his head. "No. Legolas never mentioned it, and neither did anybody else. And when we caught up with you, he was acting completely normal. Well, as normal as you could get in that situation. We had no idea."
"Legolas found him," she said softly, gazing at Legolas' pale face. "It must have been awful for him."
Elladan shivered. "I can imagine. When we found Amil…it was horrible. She was tied up, gagged, and there seemed to be blood everywhere. We had fought so many scouts to get to her, and we only had a limited amount of time to get her out of there before more Orcs pounced on us. If I remember rightly, we emptied our flasks of water over the wounds we could see, untied her, I chucked her over my shoulder, gently of course, and we ran as fast as we could out of there. Mounted our horses, and galloped like hell back to you. But I'll never forget the sight. Her eyes…empty. Just shells of what they used to be like. She was conscious you see, when we found her. She had stayed awake that whole time. She whispered that she knew we would come for her, that we wouldn't let her get hurt. Then she passed out again, as if she had waited specifically to say those few words."
"I have never seen Legolas hurt seriously before," Celeblaith admitted. "The fight was scary. Horrible."
"I told you to stay near the back. And defend, not attack."
"I got surrounded! I had no choice but to keep moving."
He raised an elegant eyebrow. "Well, why didn't you gallop in the opposite direction to the fight?"
"Because then I would have been totally alone. I used my brains. I know I'm a blonde, and related to Legolas, but I was actually using my intellect!"
He laughed. "Related to Legolas, that can't be good."
"Hey…don't mock the Prince of Mirkwood, ok?"
Elladan and Celeblaith both jumped at the sound of Legolas' voice. "Legs don't do that!" Celeblaith scolded him.
Legolas grinned and shifted in Elladan's' grasp. "I like springing surprises on people."
"Surprises that aren't always nice! You do realise you nearly scared me half to death when I walked in on you in here, slumped up against that wall!"
"I was fine," Legolas assured her.
"No you weren't," Elladan disagreed. "You were nearer death than life," he whispered so that only Legolas could hear it.
Legolas shrugged. "What can I say? I seem to have a knack for almost dying."
"You also seem to have several methods of doing so," Elladan told him. "Let's see now: broken bones, poison, numerous stab wounds, fading…the list will never end, I'm sure."
Legolas made a face up at him. "You can let go of me now if you want."
"No, I don't trust you."
Celeblaith laughed. "Naneth saved you," she told him. "Using herbs in boiled water."
"Oh yes? I've seen her use that method before. Works every time."
"Thankfully," Elladan murmured.
They sat together for a while longer, talking over things. Then Eilianu arrived, and would not stop fussing over her son. She also scolded him for staying on his own.
"I wanted to be alone Naneth! I needed to be alone."
"Legolas, you know the rules. When you are grieving, share your grief!"
"Naneth…"
"No, I mean it. You gave me the fright of my life today. You are to stay in bed for the next two days." She held up her hand against his protest. "No arguments. You need the rest. I am sure your sister and the twins will keep you company."
The other two nodded. "I think we'll need someone here all day every day to make sure he doesn't sneak out at any time," Elladan said, laughing.
Legolas scowled, which just made them laugh harder. "You can't treat me like a child," he whined.
"Oh yes I can," his mother told him sharply. "You are my child, and I shall treat you as I see fit. When you are hurt, I treat you like a youngster. When you are well, I regard you as an adult."
"Does that go for me as well?" Celeblaith asked.
Eilianu smiled at her youngest. "It depends on the circumstances," she replied. "You seem to have matured much faster than your brother did though. Which is of course a very good thing."
"Hey!"
The room was once again filled with laughter.
Woah, Leggy went kinda loopy there. But at least he's all better now. See you next chapter.
Faerlain.