Chapter XIX - Miracles

The sun finally broke through the clouds the next morning into a rather glorious day. There were birds singing in trees off the bank and hawks were soaring over the river with widespread wings, crying triumphantly. Dew glistened in the daybreak on the grass and on the rocks on the shore. Everything was calm, serene, like a painting, so perfect, so still. The onlooker could see the beauty and peacefulness on all the sleepers' faces, but could not know the pain that tore them up inside.

Smoke danced up from where the fire had been long extinguished. The hobbits slept closely together, damp and shivering. Aragorn had gone the night without ever waking up. Against a stone not far away Boromir was resting with his head bowed against his chest. Gimli's hands were folded over his slowly rising and falling chest. And lying in the sand, his eyes closed, all colour purged from his face, Legolas slept.

None of them went about anything, however, even after they woke up. Boromir was the first, hearing the calls of the hawks overhead. He observed them, watching their dives and turns, listening to their cries. His tired eyes flickered over everyone else. They were so pale he would've believed that they were all dead until Pippin turned over, away from Frodo and towards Merry. Looking again, Boromir saw that Aragorn was slowly waking up. "Morning," he said hoarsely.

Aragorn took a moment and put his hand on the bandage around his head then looked at the other Man. "Did you sleep?"

Boromir nodded. "The hawks woke me up." His voice still sounded scratched. "How are you feeling?"

"Awful, but I'll last. We should go back to Lothlórien," Aragorn replied. His temples were pounding and he felt as though his skull was going to split in half. At the least, he had a concussion.

Again, Boromir nodded. "We can get the hobbits into canoes without waking them, but Legolas will not stay sleeping if we move him."

"He might. Gimli can paddle."

Boromir carried the hobbits and put Sam and Frodo in one canoe, Merry and Pippin in the other. Gimli did not argue about having to paddle and Legolas did not wake up. The canoes cut perfectly through the water despite that they were going against the current. The sun had started to disappear behind the overcast of clouds. It was an hour before they reached the shores of Lothlórien. Frodo and Merry were awake by then, but did not resist the wills of the Elves that carried them up to the infirmary with Sam and Pippin. Haldir was there quickly, relieved that they had come back. He helped get Legolas out of the canoe and carried him up. Boromir was waiting for Aragorn when the Ranger collapsed. Soon all of them were in the infirmary with many Elves.

There were a few that were probably already dead, some that were screaming, some that held their tongues. It smelled like blood and burning flesh. There was hardly any light at all as the curtain at the doorway had been drawn and the windows were closed, making it seem as though night had come within only an hour of sunrise. The darkness made the air in the room heavy and very depressing. Merry and Frodo closed their eyes to not look at the scene that horrified them. Galadriel was not there, but Orophin, Haldir, and a few others were doing the best they could to heal the suffering.

Boromir had seen this happen so many times before in fights to protect and (try to) win back many cities. If he had not been on the quest, he would be fighting for Osgiliath, maybe dying for Osgiliath. But he had left his brother and friends to do that and suddenly felt very guilty. Was this quest worth the risk of his brother? What if Faramir was already dead? What if his father was dead? What if they were all dead and he had only saved himself by going on the journey? His thoughts were disturbed when the nearest Elf moved to stand to give Boromir his bed.

"No, please. Lie down," Boromir beckoned. "I'm fine. Don't get up for me."

The Elf lay back down. "Hannon lle."

Boromir couldn't stand this. He approached Haldir, who had his sleeve rolled up and was reaching into the wound of another Elf to retrieve the arrowhead. "What can I do to help?"

"Tend to those that have not yet been tended to," Haldir answered bluntly and looked as though he was going to be sick as he had to reach further into the Elf's torso.

Boromir immediately obeyed. He soon realized that many of those that weren't being tended to were dead. Asking Orophin, who was next to him, he was told that there was another flet across the stairs to take the deceased. Swallowing hard, Boromir picked the dead Elf up and carried him across to the said room. He pushed aside the heavy curtain to see a poorly lit room with a series of tables. It took a moment for his vision to adjust to the lighting and then he laid the Elf down on the nearest table. For a minute he looked at the Elf's face-- so pallid that the lips looked bright against it, but that could also be because of the blood. Turquoise eyes stared up at Boromir before he silently closed them. After one more moment he turned to leave, but was stopped when he heard someone else speaking. He followed the voice to where the few candles could not extend their light. "Galadriel?"

She did not even turn when she said, "Hold her head up for me please, Boromir." Her voice was so soft that Boromir would not have recognized her by it. He did as she asked and placed his hands where hers used to be. Galadriel moved to the other side of the table and tipped a glass towards "her" lips. Boromir wished he could see who he was holding. Whoever it was, she was very thin and very cold. When Galadriel's hand brushed over his, he felt that she was cold as well and shaking. Suddenly, the person he was holding started to cough. "Don't let go," Galadriel said. "I'll be right back."

Boromir, unsure of what else to do, supported the woman's neck and took her hand. She continued to cough for a few more moments. Between breaths, Boromir heard her plead, "Legolas…"

"Êlanna!" he exclaimed, unable to believe it. She was alive! A tremendous relief came over him and he felt his chest become much lighter. "It's alright, Êlanna. Deep breaths."

She coughed a few more times and inhaled slowly. "It hurts…"

"Shhh. I know. Galadriel will be back in a moment."

"Boromir…?"

"Yes. You have to hold on Êlanna."

He felt her nod and kissed her forehead. "You're going to be alright."

Eryn sat on the floor, staring at her father's sketches on the wall. They were all of her mother. She sniffled and wiped away the tears, pulling her blanket over her shoulders. Standing up, she shuffled to the table and grabbed a charcoal piece and parchment. She put these on the floor and went into her parents' room, the blanket dragging behind her. A moment later she returned with her father's violin. Sitting down, she set to her sketch. "Duna e' i' orn er dome, si tyava er horme hwesta. I' For Sul tula a' quena si e' coiasira en' ant-nîn. Ilya i' palurin cael lemba si, vee' manka a' quen namarie. Ta lemba si tanya re ar' quena si eller a' gurth, Standing in the trees one night, I felt a fleeting breeze. The North Wind came to visit me in my hour of need. All the world had left me, as if to say good-bye. It had abandoned me that day and left me there to die," she sang softly, tears falling onto her drawing. "I Quel Sul, I For Sul… The Good Wind, The North Wind…"

"Legolas," Haldir called. He couldn't understand why it was taking so long to wake the Elf up. It had already been over twenty minutes. Lightly, Haldir slapped him and called his name again. "Legolas, wake up!"

"Haldir, there are others that need you more than Legolas," Galadriel said, placing her hand on his shoulder. "I'll take care of it." She waited for Haldir to leave then pinched Legolas' collarbone. He tensed and his eyes opened. "Legolas, come with me."

"Galadriel?" He followed her, looking around at all the other Elves and trying to recall how he got here. She led him to the flet across the stairs and Legolas paused. "I can't, not yet."

"Legolas, you will follow me," Galadriel said definitely. "You may be the King of Mirkwood, but you will follow me." She grabbed his hand and almost dragged him through. Legolas hated this room, it was too dark, too heavy, and there were three—even four, but that thought made him so nauseous that he banished it from his mind— people that she could be leading him to. On the way, Galadriel grabbed a misshapen onyx candlestick from a table. Near the back of the room, she halted and released his hand, but kept the light from the candle away. Strong hands guided Legolas' own to the person's neck and hand. It was then that Galadriel allowed the candlelight to reach over.

"Êlanna…" Legolas gasped. He became speechless. The muscles in his body seemed to disappear and he could not tell what was holding him up or if this was real. His heart was leaping in his chest and he had to think to breathe. It was as though he was looking at her for the first time after years of absence. She was still beautiful despite how sallow her face was, the shadows accenting her cheekbones. Death lingered so close to her, but she already looked like an angel.

Êlanna smiled weakly and gripped his hand. "Hello, Legolas." The candlelight sparkled in her dark blue eyes. She tugged his hand towards her and he bent down. "Shhh," she breathed before kissing him avidly. Suddenly she withdrew, grimacing with pain.

Legolas looked terrified. He turned to Galadriel. "Will she be alright?"

For a moment, the Elf-queen was silent. "She lost a lot of blood and will probably be weak for a few days, maybe weeks. Where the dagger hit in her back altered the bones and nerves enough that they will never operate properly. She will have to lie down for the next couple of days and we'll go from there, but her back is severely broken."

There was an uncomfortable silence and it took the whole of it for Legolas to digest this.

"We'll leave the two of you," Galadriel said for her and Boromir.

"Êlanna—" Legolas started.

She put a finger to his lips. "Legolas, I dreamt that I couldn't remember what you looked like or how your voice sounded. My heart was broken. Now, I can see you again and I can do naught but be thankful."

He smiled and kissed her gently, pressing his forehead against hers. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," she said as tears began to spill down her cheeks. "Take me home."

Carefully, as though she were made of porcelain, Legolas lifted Êlanna into his arms and carried her down to their flet.

Furiously scratching over her drawing, Eryn sobbed and finally dropped the parchment and paper. She hugged her knees to her chest, wrapping the blanket around them, and rocked herself back and forth.

"Avo nala, elle er nîn. Do not cry, my little one."

Eryn turned around with wide eyes and her mouth fell open. "Ada! Naneth!" She scrambled up as Legolas bent down and threw her arms around his neck, feeling her mother's hand rubbing her back, unable to stop crying.

"It's alright, honey," Legolas said.

"I- I thought…" her eyes widened with horror and she quickly changed her sentence. Here eyes went up as she said, "Valar, I am sorry for the things I said, but I thought that you had taken my ada and naneth from me."

"No one will ever be able to take us away from you, baby," Êlanna said, stroking her daughter's cheek. "I'm so happy to see you."

Eryn smiled. "When will you be better?"

"She needs a few days to rest, so we'll have to watch out for her, alright?"

Vigorously, Eryn nodded and stepped away from the door so that her mother and father could come in then ran off to tell anyone that her naneth was alive. Legolas carried Êlanna to their room and laid her carefully on the bed, pulling a blanket over her. "Is there anything I can get you?"

Êlanna took a moment to breathe. "Stay with me?"

Legolas nodded and lay down next to her. After a moment, he reached over and slowly turned Êlanna onto her side. She rested her head on his chest and entwined her hand with his, tears rolling down her cheeks. It did not take long for them to fall asleep.

Legolas listened solemnly to Galadriel's words; his head bowed again his black tunic, eyes staring at the grass, a gold crown glittering on his brow. His shadow was cast long before him, the day breaking slowly as if she knew the happiness she caused could not be portrayed yet. There could be not happiness at the funeral of a king and prince, a father and brother. The world was not of bold colours yet, still pale pastels, not completely whole. It had been in pastels often as of late, sometimes too abstract to be fathomed, for the better or the worse. Inhaling deeply, Legolas felt the breath rattle in his chest. How many funerals had he attended for beings of immortal liking? How many of them had been souls he cherished? When Galadriel's voice, an undercurrent to his thoughts, was silenced, Legolas raised his eyes.

They had all come, Aragorn, Boromir, Gimli, and the hobbits. All were clothed in shades of dark greens and blues for only kin of the deceased were permitted to wear black to show their absolute mourning, by Elven custom. Their hands were folded before them and all but Boromir looked at Galadriel. Haldir stood across from Legolas and briefly caught his eyes with a reassuring glance. Beside the new king were his wife and daughter, both clothed in black dresses. Êlanna sat, straight-backed, in a chair and Eryn stood beside her, crying. It was difficult to see Êlanna's face by the veil over her eyes.

Taking a moment to accept his father and brother's deaths, Legolas nodded to Galadriel's question.

The Elven warriors that stood on the riverbank pushed the onyx vessels into the water.

Legolas nodded again.

Arrows that glowed red with fire leapt over their heads as archers fired them at the boats. The kindling inside caught the flames immediately and burst up, fire spilling over the onyx.

Legolas closed his eyes and recited final speeches to his family silently. It was better like this than to have the bodies buried. Their ashes would be carried to Mirkwood instead of their bodies rotting in soil that was not theirs. The smell of charred flesh reached the riverbank and it made Legolas sick, but he held his composure. Death was not easier to accept the more it was experienced.

Sniffling, Eryn brought her small violin to her chin and drew the bow across the strings in a simple, but appropriate song.

Êlanna cried, the tears flowing freely down her cheeks. Her veil hid the tiredness of her eyes, but not even walls of stone could trap her sorrow. Such ill had befallen her husband and it was becoming evermore difficult to understand why. Everything had been taken from him now. His family, his pride, his faith, his happiness… What were the Valar trying to prove by robbing a heartbroken prince? But he was king now; king of a race that was quickly losing it place due to the cruelty of a jealous army that could not stand having any nation above them. A jealous army led by a jealous soul that would not watch righteousness to prevail once again. All of this anger seemed to be shared by two beings: the new king Legolas whose people were dying as the highest race in Middle Earth and the soon-to-be King Aragorn whose people were dying to prevent their people from dying. If ever times were graver, Êlanna did not know of them.

The fires were dying down as the amount of cargo left to be burned lessened. The boats would continue until fate led them back to the shores of Lothlórien to await another death.

King Thranduil and Prince Ithil were no more.

"Your Highness—"

"Haldir, there have never been formalities between us, there shall not be now," Legolas said flatly. He still stood on the bank, arms folded across his chest, the sun shining well above him now. His voice was deeper as though he had only matured in the past few hours. In many ways, he had. "What is it?"

"I only wished to offer you my most sincere condolences to you, mellon-nîn. You have lost so much and gained so little."

"Do not sympathize for me because of that. If you must, sympathize for me because my family and companions must endure this as well."

"As you wish, Your Highness," Haldir said, bowing.

Legolas turned to face him. "Haldir, we are too close to need titles to show respect. I do not need servants now. I need you to be the friend that has been there for me my entire life."

Haldir smiled. He grasped Legolas' shoulder and Legolas returned the gesture. They pulled each other into an embrace.

"We have lost much, mellon-nîn," Haldir stated sadly.

"We have. We can only hope it means that there are happier times ahead," said Legolas. "Perhaps when I return to Mirkwood there will be no more wars, no more needless loss of life."

"When will that be?"

'"After the Ring bearer's quest has been achieved. I owe it to my people to have a hand in aiding them."

Haldir was silent for a moment. "You never cease to amaze me, Legolas."

Legolas smiled, contented by his friend's faith in him. "You would do the same."

"I must ask a favour of you, though," Legolas continued. "Please watch over Eryn and Êlanna while I am away."

'"You do not even need to ask, mellon-nîn."

"Hannon lle."

"Are you tired?" Legolas asked Êlanna later that night when Eryn had already gone to bed and the two sat silently, content with each others' company. He had noticed his wife's eyes beginning to weigh down.

She stifled a yawn and flipped the page of her book. "A little."

"Alright, then," Legolas said, setting down his charcoal and parchment to carry her to bed. He laid her down gently and pulled the blankets up to her chest. "Is that alright?"

"It's fine, thank you," Êlanna replied gratefully. "Are you coming to bed soon?"

Legolas nodded. He returned to the living room to tuck away his drawing and extinguish the candles before returning to his and Êlanna's bedroom. His tunic unbuttoned easily and he draped it over the back of a chair next to the window. Lying down, he drew Êlanna close to him and helped her shift onto her side. Her hand was cold against his chest. "Do you want another blanket?"

"No," Êlanna said, shaking her head. "You have already done so much and you need to sleep. I hate having to constantly interrupt you, I know you would appreciate solitude."

"I thought I would, but I've been alone for so long that companionship is welcomed. And you are not interrupting. It is my duty to care for you and love you."

'Êlanna smiled. "What can I do in return?"

'"You owe me nothing, mela nîn. If anything, I am in debt to you. Your life would have been better with someone else."

"Never, Legolas. I could not swear myself to anyone but you. I love you more than the moon loves the stars," Êlanna said, her breath hitching in her throat as she tried to suffocate her sob.

Legolas held her. "Is something wrong, Êlanna?"

"No, quite the contrary. Everything is better now… I only wish I could give you more."

"You and Eryn make me whole, I need nothing else. Don't cry," Legolas whispered, caressing Êlanna's back. "Don't cry."

"Ada!" Eryn called, waving her arms and skipping energetically. "Ada, come play!"

Legolas smiled. The day of mourning had passed and with it had gone the burdens. He carried Êlanna to where Gimli sat against a tree trunk and set her down beside him. "Are you alright here?"

"I'm fine. I'm sure Gimli has intriguing tales to tell," she said, beaming at the Dwarf, who blushed. "Go on, Legolas."

"Hurry, Legolas, before I collapse," Boromir laughed, trying to outrun Eryn.

Legolas chased behind her and scooped her into his arms. "These mortals tire out so easily," he said in jest. "What will we ever do with them?"

Eryn shrugged and squirmed out of her father's grip to continue her pursuit of Boromir. He allowed her to tackle him to the ground, after which she sat on his stomach victoriously. "I claim thee in the name of the Elves!"

"I am now your humble servant, my princess. I beg you and merciful royal self to allow me to get a drink or I shall surely be rendered useless," Boromir pleaded, trying to catch his breath.

"Of course, sir knight," Eryn agreed, hopping of off him. "But remember this favour forever and always."

"Of course, milady. Your mercy shall be recorded in royal textbooks as an example for princesses to come," recited Boromir in a dramatic tone.

Eryn nodded proudly, unable to contain herself from giggling for long. Speaking like true royalty according to the Fellowship was difficult to do at the age of six. She looked at the ring on her thumb and smiled.

"She is certainly her father's daughter," Êlanna said as she sat next to Gimli.

"It would have been nice to have known Legolas before his life was interrupted by such tragedy."

"He was very… ambitious."

"My father used to say that about me when I disregarded the rules."

"Then it has the same meaning to Elves and Dwarves," Êlanna laughed. "When you visit us in Mirkwood and all of this evil is behind us, you will see who Legolas really is."

"I believe I see him now," Gimli said, nodding towards the Elf and his daughter, watching them laugh and chase after each other.

"Are you going to come and play, Gimli?" Eryn asked as Legolas lifted her into the air.

"Not today, Pebble," the Dwarf answered, pointing and Aragorn, who lay sleeping. He raised his eyebrows to her and nodded.

Legolas saw this, too, and placed Eryn back on the ground, putting his finger to his lips. Nodding, Eryn tiptoed in her bare feet to Aragorn, not even breathing loud. She pounced. Aragorn caught her and trapped her. "You disturbed my sleep," he said, tickling her stomach.

Eryn wriggled uncontrollably. "No…stop…" she managed to say between hysterics. "Please!"

Aragorn stopped and sat up with her on his knee. "You have ten seconds."

Eryn jumped up and ran, listening to Aragorn count down with excitement.

"That is Legolas Greenleaf," Êlanna said.