hey guys! sorry it took so long to update. been traveling all over lookin at campuses. yea! anyway, i was warned that several stories that posted responses to reviews have been removed! wat's up with that? is that true? anyway, until i get that sorted out, i'm not gonna respond to any unless you list your email so i can send it to you. sorry for the inconvenience. i will still read all the reviews however, and hopefully get a few good laughs. thanks for sticking with me, i really appreciate it. here's your reward. next chappie should be up soon. regretfully, we are nearing the end of this installment. let me know how i do.

linilya elf

Disclaimer: i dunno wat to say. u know.

Chapter 39

Unable to remain still in his constant vigilance over Elenayave's condition, Legolas stood up from his chair and walked slowly over to the window in his bedroom. It had been several days since Lena's latest fiasco, and she still had not wakened. She'd shown no signs of internal bleeding, and the gash on her forehead was nothing more than a faint scar. Her arm had been set and the bones mended. And yet, her eyes remained closed and her lips silent. The gentle rise and fall of her chest under the sheets was the only sign of her enduring life.

Taking a quick glance out the window, he noticed life went on as usual in Mirkwood. How easy it was for people to carry on when he was struggling to accept that his wife may well never wake again. Or at least, that's what he'd been told. Lena was a fighter, he knew. But could she possibly survive so many accidents in a row? Legolas plucked a wet cloth out of a basin that rested on the nightstand and wrung it out. He'd done this faithfully, three times a day since she'd come in. Carefully sitting on the edge of the bed next to her, he wiped her brow with the cloth and smoothed down her hair.

It seemed unreal, that this should happen again. Unreal and unfair. He had just gotten her back. And just at the vital point of their marriage. How was it that she was gone once again? Already, he missed her smile, her laughter, her gentle touch in the middle of the night. She was lost to him, perhaps for forever. Would he have to regain her love and trust again? Maybe she would not warm up to him so quickly this time. Perhaps she would leave. Or perhaps, naught would happen, and she would simply waste away into nothingness. All three would almost certainly either cause him endless pain or even death. He couldn't bear to live without her. The mere thought of it terrified him and shook him to the core. How would he ever go on? Would she be there, in Mandos, even in bereavement?

To put it mildly, Legolas was in anguish. He felt as if his soul had been ripped apart and broken. He was no longer the fearless warrior that never missed a target. His hands shook now, almost ceaselessly, too much to hold a bow or knife. He was weak, so little he ate and slept. Constant dread haunted him, and his figure had become gaunt and too pale. He hardly ever moved from the bedchambers and seldom did he enjoy the sun or the outdoors. The Elven Prince was fading, and only his father knew it.

Legolas shook his head ruefully. What would his people say if they were to see him, no longer the strong and effective ruler he once was? His father had lasted so long without the Queen. Why should he, Legolas, not be able to do the same? But Thranduil had pulled through for his son. If Lena passed, there would be nothing binding him to the good earth. He would have no reason to remain. Life without her would be nothing. No longer would there be joy. No longer would there be sun. Only pain and suffering and his endless sorrow would linger. Why couldn't life be simpler? Why couldn't the Valar be kinder? And, damn it, why couldn't he stop the tears from coming?

Light seemed to beam down upon her. It was almost glaringly painful to her sensitive eyes.

"What in all of Arda are you doing?" she screamed at whoever was listening. "And why am I here?"

"Good questions, both of them," a woman's voice replied. "And both to be answered, I assure you."

Elenayave recoiled and scooted further away from the rapidly approaching outline of her visitor. She hadn't truly expected someone to reply. "Who are you?" she questioned suspiciously.

"So full of questions," the woman mused, finally becoming clearer and more than just a shape. She was tall and slender, reminding Elenayave of a sturdy sapling. Her golden hair flowed gently down her back and piercing blue eyes gazed down sorrowfully at her. Her perfect porcelain skin was flawless, and somehow retained some sort of magical glow. A long white elegant gown covered her lean body, adding to her brilliance. "Are you afraid?" she asked.

Elenayave considered for a moment before speaking. Deciding that the beautiful woman would probably know it if she lied, she decided against it. "Yes."

"Why?" Her voice was like the ringing of a thousand glass bells. It was almost…enchanting.

"I am lost. I don't know where I am or how I got here. Nor do I know how to get back."

"And…" she urged.

"And…I…I miss my husband. I am afraid for him. I know not where he is."

The woman gave a knowing smile, but it soon faded. "You are right to worry. His light is waning."

Elenayave felt her heart jump to her throat. Legolas…fading? Why? "I don't understand. Why? What pains him so?"

"Your loss," she responded.

"My loss? I'm dead?"

"Quite."

"That can't be! No. I will not allow it. We're to have a baby. I know it was meant to be. I know it was! I have to go back!"

The woman smiled again. "That, my child, is nearly impossible."

Elenayave was flustered momentarily. "Impossible? What do you mean, impossible?"

"One can not simply return from the dead," the woman insisted.

"Lord Glorfindel did. And I did once, after I was hit by that idiot driver. Why can't I do it now?"

"You were given divine guidance to emerge from that wreck unscathed. It was not of your own doing. And Lord Glorfindel was given purpose to his return. It takes a great deal of will to be sent back from the Halls of Mandos."

"Will? Purpose? I'll show you will and purpose, lady. That is my husband down there, and I'll be damned if I let him sit there and waste away at my bedside! I swore I'd give him a child, and I'll certainly be damned if I don't!" Elenayave stamped her foot on the ground, if you could call it that, and planted her hands firmly on her hips.

"You have your father's spirit, child, I'll give you that," the woman said.

Elenayave narrowed her eyes in defiance. "And who are you to say that?"

The woman smiled again and placed her hand on Elenayave's shoulder. "I am Eliant, your mother."

Oh. This couldn't be good. She'd just back talked and cursed at her own mother and hadn't even known it. Oops. The sheepish look on her face must have been plain to see.

"I apologize," Elenayave whispered softly.

"It's no fault of your own, little one. But I must say that you have become so much more than I could have ever hoped for. And a princess, imagine that."

The color rose in her cheeks as she suddenly found the dirt on her bare feet to be incredibly interesting. She had hoped for so long to see her mother again, but she'd never assumed it would happen like this. Tears slid down her cheeks one after the other, dripping softly onto the ground.

Eliant gazed serenely at her weeping daughter, a regretful look in her pale eyes. "What is it, penneth?"

"He's not meant to die, Naneth. Not yet. There's something he has to do. Something important, to help everyone. He's to make a difference in the world, Naneth, I know he is."

"And…"

Elenayave looked up with a sharp look. Her mother was forever doing that. It was as if she always knew that she had something else to say. "And he's forever wanted a child. It's the only thing he's ever asked for."

"So?"

"So what? You said it was impossible to go back."

"I said it was nearly impossible. There is a way…"