THIS BLOOD THAT STAINS MY HANDS: PART TWO

"Everyone has to find their own reason." (Cloud, FFVII)

Sometimes the nights seemed unbearable. He felt so cold, so alone. Like he would never see the sunrise again. But then, by some miracle, it would come. Those warm colors would mix, but they didn't look happy to him anymore, they were sad. In fact, a lot of things started to have that effect.

The fellowship had ended, but he, Gimli, and Aragorn had managed to stay together. It seemed a lot of friends were leaving him nowadays.

He had changed somewhat in the past months, he walked slower now, and he hardly ever spoke unless need be. He didn't laugh so much anymore, and when the time came for him to laugh, the joy would only last for a short while. Then the pain would come back again.

He had grown up. It took him awhile to realize it, but he knew he wasn't the same anymore. He was lacking. Lacking what, he wasn't sure, but he felt incomplete somehow. He guessed that was the part where Nessa fit in, anyways.



He stood silently overlooking the city in front of him. Rohan, the city even reeked a depression so strong it could turn the happiest man alive into a wreck. He just stood there, thinking back to Mirkwood. It was sad, though, that every time his mind strayed, it would stray to her. And he couldn't help but wonder what she was doing at that moment. If she was thinking about him, or if she had found someone to be the true love of her life, while he sat there waiting like a dog for her to come back.

"I am a fool," he mumbled to himself, uncrossing his arms and throwing them into the air, trying to catch the breeze.

"Master elf?"

Legolas turned to face Lady Eowyn, King Theoden's niece, walking over to him.

"I'm sorry, I hate to intrude, but you seem a bit, oh how shall I say this, aloof?"

Legolas smiled faintly, looking down at his feet, "yes, aloof, that's probably the best way of putting it. An aloof fool."

"Pardon my questions, but why a fool, Master elf?"

He sighed, "have you ever been in love, milady?"

She looked at him strangely, "no, no, not anything binding, I would say."

He shook his head, "then you cannot understand the ramblings of a fool, until you become one yourself." He turned back around, facing the city again.

Eowyn stood there bewildered by the elf's cryptic answer, if you could call it an answer. She just stood there, staring at him, unsure of what do to. She didn't want to push the matter, but a part of her wanted to understand.

"Lady Eowyn, you cannot force yourself to understand, but trust me, someday you will." He said into the wind, still feeling her presence behind him.

"What's her name?" She said boldly, still yearning to understand.

"Nessa," he whispered, closing his eyes and envisioning her, "her name is Nessa."

"Is she your wife?"

Legolas shook his head, "no, no, not a wife."

Eowyn smiled, "Master elf, I would have never guessed you to be such a romantic," she walked over beside him confidently.

Legolas smiled, amused, "a romantic? No. Just a fool."

"A fool. You keep saying that so loosely, why a fool?"

"And you keep asking that question, and I will tell you the same answer, only a fool can understand a fool's ramblings."

"What did she look like? Was she beautiful?"

He closed his eyes again, seeing her face, "she was plain, but in a beautiful sort of way. Inner beauty, I think that is what they call it, inner beauty."

Eowyn nodded, trying to picture this she-elf in her mind, "do you miss her?"

He nodded, feeling choked up again, "everyday," he whispered, "everyday."

"Why journey away from her, if you miss her so?"

He turned to her, forcing a faint smile, "she was the one that journeyed away from me." Then he turned away from, walking back inside of the hall.

"Master elf!" She called after him, still wanting to understand.

He smiled somberly, "you are still young, milady, really a child in my eyes, I cannot make you understand. Understanding comes with time, and time does not come without loss."

Legolas walked inside Theoden's great hall, eyeing it in wonder. This place was so different from his home, and he felt like a giddy elfling again pretending to be on some whirlwind adventure. Then it would hit him, he really was on an adventure, he really was far away from home.

He remembered back to when he was an elfling, when he would journey out in the forest with friends, and play and play until they had worn themselves out so that they would collapse on the ground. They would always pretend they were off far away, battling evil, staging elaborate battle scenes, but this, this was far different then what he had imagined as an elfling. This world, this adventure, was so much colder then anything he could have ever imagined.

But then again, the world was so much simpler then.

He took a seat on one of the many chairs that lined the halls, resting his head back, and closing his eyes. He was tired. They all were. Raging war took a lot out of an elf, or anyone for that matter. He felt his mind drifting again, thinking about this and that, and eventually her.

"Legolas," he felt a soft poking in his upper right shoulder, "Legolas," the voice said a bit more impatiently, "you're leaving again."

His eyes shot open, "she's a hard she-elf to keep off my mind," he whispered.

Aragorn frowned on his friend, "Legolas, you cannot just sit there and mope. If you love her as much as you say you do, then you'll understand."

"It's not that I don't understand, I just don't want to."

"That's being childish, Legolas."

He looked over to his friend, "how would you feel if Arwen left you suddenly?"

Aragorn frowned, "stop changing the subject."

He smiled, "you would wait for her, you would become just like me. Don't deny it."

"Then you admit it? You hold on to false hope, my friend."

Legolas nodded, "I know what I am holding on to," he looked away from his friend and across the hall, "it's the same thing that she holds on to." He noted his head towards the Lady Eowyn, "she seems quite taken with you, Aragorn."

Aragorn shook his head, "she does not love me."

Legolas nodded, "she does, but she does not know it yet."

"You sound like an idiot," Aragorn teased.

"Ah, but a very perceptive idiot."

Aragorn smiled, "just please, remember what I said about Nessa. She's gone, Legolas, and I don't think she's coming back."

Legolas looked back to his friend, "no, no, you're wrong. Nessa will come back."

"Legolas,"

He held up his hand, "Nessa will come back, whether as a friend or lover is yet to be decided. But she will come back."

Aragorn sighed, "you place too much faith in this she-elf of yours."

Legolas shook his head, "and you place too little."



The day had ended once again, the world slowly drifting into darkness, but sleep couldn't find him again. Legolas walked the halls of Rohan, then moved outside to gaze at the moon. It was getting harder and harder for him to find sleep anymore, but he dare not tell. Aragorn had his best interests in mind, yes, but his friend did not understand why yet. Why he had to hold on.

He sat down, leaning against the one of the walls nearest to him, his eyes never leaving the moon. He began to sing to himself in his native tongue, closing his eyes and whispering softy the words.

"Master elf? You're going to wear yourself out like that, from the nights you have been here, I have never seen you sleep once." Legolas's eyes shot open, looking over to where Eowyn spoke. She stood there, her arms at her side, and a soft smile on her lips.

"I might say the same, Lady Eowyn, for you too have not slept."

She jumped back a little, "what?" She asked, surprised that he could have known.

Legolas smiled, amused, "you have never met an elf before, I take it."

She shook her head, "but, how did you know that I have not slept?"

"First, you walk around rather loud, and second, how could you have known I was not sleeping if you too weren't."

She smiled, "then elves aren't as magical as some might say."

He shook his head, "no, no, I did not say that. There are some elves, with, shall I say gifts. Lord Elrond, of Rivendell, has the gift of foresight, for example. And I am sure you have heard of the Lady of the Golden Wood? Lady Galadriel, she too has a gift."

Eowyn nodded, "I saw you and Lord Aragorn talking, earlier today, why did you look over at me?"

Legolas smiled, "do you always pry into other's lives, milady?"

"Oh, forgive me, Master elf, I mean not to offend."

Legolas held up his hand, "no, you do not offend. You just have a lot of questions, milady."

She smiled, "my brother, Eomer, used to hate that about me. He said that he could never get a moment's peace with me around."

He smiled, "you miss your brother very much, don't you?"

She nodded, "I do not know where he is, and if he'll ever come back. It worries me."

Legolas nodded, "do not worry, milady, your brother will come back. He has not betrayed Rohan, and he will not betray you."

Eowyn nodded, "it's just unnerving, I guess."

"Are you not a fighter, milady. I saw you speaking with Aragorn earlier, with that sword of yours. I would think a warrior would understand."

She smiled, "ah yes, I should shouldn't I?" She eyed the elf with amusement, watching him as he returned his gaze back to the moon.

"So why don't you sleep, Master elf?"

He tilted his head down, looking away from the moon, "sleep doesn't come to me anymore. I need not force it."

She nodded, "is it because of the she-elf you spoke of earlier?"

He shrugged, "maybe, or maybe it's because I fear sleep."

"How can you fear sleep?"

"Not the action of sleeping, but what comes to you in sleep. Memories. Maybe I just fear memories."

She nodded, somewhat understanding what the elf was saying. For some people memories were often sad, and hard to bear. This elf was so unlike any other person she had ever met, his words intrigued her, made her want to understand more. All of the three companions that were visiting intrigued her for that matter.

The dwarf, Gimli, with his hardy heart and gruff voice, he always had something to say about everything. Always had a story to tell, and something to laugh about.

The man, Aragorn, was an entirely different matter, though. She felt herself drawn to him more then the others. He had a sort of rugged element to him that made him so different then all the other men she knew.

And then the elf, Legolas, she found easy to talk to, like an old friend. He seemed a bit more distant then the others, and she usually saw him standing outside, looking off somewhere.

Yes, three very different companions, that was for sure. Three very different friends.



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