A/N: Special thanks for your wonderful reviews, jshaw0624, Guest, dreamer, Woman of Letters, Amateur Bacon Cook, , WyomingCowboy15, SparkyTAS, middleagemanager, and Andy the willow tree. :))
. . .
Darkness…
Yellow and ruby blurs flew through the night. Legolas stood on a bridge, looking out over the whipping hum of a freeway. There were no voices here, no sounds, only the constant row upon row of white, red…white…red…
It never stopped. The bridge where he stood, suspended by cables in the night, hung over the distant traffic. Even here, he couldn't see the stars. They were distant, lonely lights. He'd never been here before.
And as soon as it was there, it was gone.
. . . . .
Tick…tick…tick…
Legolas cracked open sleep-blurred eyes. His face was crushed in warm pillows.
Tick…tock…tick
Suddenly, he bolted up.
Legolas sat in the center of a bed, shaking the dream away. He bounced a little, curious about the springs under him, before glancing around, taking in the room. He remembered this room. It wasn't large, but the clearness of the center made it feel spacious. Cream walls, varnished wood furniture, an empty fireplace stood on the corner wall, things he didn't recognize under a great window.
Peculiar…
He licked his dry lips, before curiosity and a fresh wave of energy pulled him from the sheets. Legolas threw on a loose cotton shirt from the back of a chair, closing a few buttons. The tabletop was littered in… things. What were they for? Legolas carefully traced his fingers over them, before edging to a curtained door. He found his boots near the wall, and he glanced warily from oddity to oddity.
The ticking sound that woke him came from a glass disc, like a sundial. The low hum turned out to be warm breaths of air seeping through a vent in the wall… some kind of heating system.
Stars, where was he?
The door opened out onto a balcony. Legolas took in a gust of cold, windy air and leaned on the rail, looking out over a city. But he wasn't dreaming now. The buildings, the moving dots and distant echoes of voices and honks…They were real. Legolas shivered in the brisk wind, rubbing his arms through the thin shirt.
It was…impressive, at least. It did things for his mind, the cold and the wind, for his spirit. The sight of the massive city made him want to panic, but it calmed him at the same time. He was on a hill, and a dim blue haze shrouded the towering giants in the distance. He stood over the smell of exhaust and rushing bodies where the air was fresh.
But where were the trees? Where was the green and the stars amongst this chaos?
Legolas stared out over it all grimly. What a place he'd come to. How did it happen? Why couldn't he remember anything of importance?
And then a voice broke into his reverie.
"Legolas?"
Legolas whirled around. He forgot all about the woman.
"Oh, there you are." Kristy said shakily. She stumbled on the heeled boots she had on, trying to take them off. Folders and papers spilled out onto the floor.
For a strange instant, when she came in the door and saw the empty bed, she thought he was gone. Maybe Legolas didn't recognize this place as home? Maybe he went to find it?
Of course it wouldn't be that easy.
"Um, you look…" Kristy trailed off, unpinning her hair from work.
Legolas, standing alone in the fading light made her stop where she was in the threshold. She gripped her hands in her pockets, biting her cheek in the cold.
He was on the balcony in his boots and Reiner's pants, pale hair whisking over his shoulders in the breeze. The thin white shirt fanned across the dips and lines of his chest, clinging to his muscular frame where the wind blew it. His eyes were focused and cool. They had color again, blue-gray, sharp and focused. Dark circles made him look exhausted... But he was a man, fully mature and older than Kristy.
She knew that looking at him. It was strange. She remembered him sleeping peacefully in the pillows, wondering if he was even out of his teens yet. But this look wasn't unbecoming, she found as he stared at her without a blink. He was…attractive, to say the least. Intense.
"…um, better." She finally managed.
Legolas turned away. What was the point making conversation when her words meant nothing?
Kris stepped carefully out onto the terrace, one foot in front of the other. The balconies were stacked atop each other from bottom to top, all the same. The floor of one made the ceiling of the next. It was a pale brown, brick building, framed with steel and power lines. Distant voices echoed from the city and clusters of moving bodies filled the streets.
"So…I have something for you," she said as she came up beside.
Legolas just stared at the horizon, gripping the rail. He should show appreciation for her care. He should make his thanks known somehow.
But he didn't.
"I know you can't understand English, at least speak it." Kristy struggled for some way to tell him what she wanted. "But I was hoping you could, you know, read whatever it was on your arm? It was ink that washed off, but I took a picture of it first."
Legolas glanced to her from the corner of his eyes. Listening to her try and talk to him wasn't rewarding at the best of times.
"You…you still can't understand me. All right." So, heart pulsing in her ears, Kristy pulled the picture from her pocket. It was time to show him. The page was a printout, too smudged to make out herself, at least to copy. But maybe he could. She pushed it into his hands.
"What devilry is this?" Legolas muttered. The painting in his fingers was as real as life! How was it possible? He turned to Kristy, seeking answers.
She had a black, hip-length coat on, belted tight around the waist. Strange. The girl was dreadfully uncomfortable under his eyes. So he made a point not to linger too long on her trousers. Men's clothes. Only tighter. She was just one surprise after the next.
"Who is this?" Legolas motioned with his hands, confused.
She pointed at him.
"…Me?" Legolas scoffed. "Impossible." He was sharp, flinty like steel. How could it be? When? Where?
Kristy just sighed, before pointing at the picture. Then, she touched his arm-ignoring his surprised flinch-and back to the photo. It was no use talking.
"What does it say?" she asked anyway, nodding to the black, smudged writing in the picture. "Can you read it?"
Legolas focused. He tilted the paper in the light, concentrating. It was hard. But then he froze. The words made sense. He could read them! "I am…Legolas. I will not forget." The next line was smeared beyond recognition, but he knew what it said. He murmured aloud. "I am an elf of the Woodland Realm, and I will find my way home."
Kristy raised an eyebrow. "It makes sense?"
Legolas got the gist of that… and he nodded slightly. But the writing disturbed him, more than he could explain.
"Well that doesn't really help me." Kristy sighed, dropping her eyes in defeat. "Come on," she mumbled. "I'm going to make something to eat."
Oh when was she going to say something that made sense? Legolas stared at her. In fact, why did she even bother talking?
"Eat." Kristy pushed stray hair behind her ears. "You know…eat?" At his blank expression, she pretended her hand was a spoon and pointedly ate with it. Then, Legolas grinned to himself.
At least hunger wouldn't be one of his problems. She was going to feed him.
"I can't really ask what you want, but I guess that means yes." She half-laughed, moving into the house again. Behind her, Legolas tucked the picture into his pants, and he wouldn't look at it again. Kristy shut the door behind him. "Reiner wouldn't let you have much of anything, anyway."
"In here."
The kitchen joined the living room by an open doorway. This room was just as queer. Wood cupboards and white-stained metal lined the walls. Counters and boxes hummed and rattled quietly. Legolas sat at the table, glancing around. Windows lined the walls in pairs of three. And there, moving and digging through the cupboards across the tile, was the she-human.
Soon, steam rose from some kind of cooking device. The smell reminded Legolas of how long it was since he last ate. Longer than he could remember.
Kristy glanced at him, pouring milk and running water. He stared at everything with wide, curious eyes. How old was he? She thought thirty before…thirty-five maybe. But now, she wasn't sure. He looked at the things around him suspiciously, like a tiger on a leash.
And suddenly, Legolas cleared his throat. This was as good a time as any.
Kris looked up. "What?"
"What is your name?" he repeated, then touched himself. "I am Legolas." It felt strange to say his name, barely familiar to him, but Legolas needed things that were firm, that were real. He needed to take them and store them away, start making memories where he had none. "You?" He questioned.
Kristy stared. "Oh! M-my name's Kristine."
Legolas blinked.
"You know, Kristine?"
"Kris-teen." Legolas murmured carefully, chewing on the unfamiliar word. Hm.
"Just call me Kristy," she said, but Legolas would have none of that. He'd echo one name over and over in his head, and that name would be this odd she-human he watched, but couldn't quite understand. Kristine.
"Lle hannon, Kristine," he said quietly as she set a bowl of food in front of him. Then, Legolas leaned back. It was some kind of -
"Porridge? I am not a child waiting to be weaned."
"It's all Doctor Reiner said you could eat," Kristy explained. She guessed at his distasteful expression. His stomach wanted it. Badly. But his mouth didn't. "You need food," Kristy said, watching his critical stare. Was something wrong?
Legolas sniffed. Porridge and milk. Baby food. He wrinkled his nose.
"Well let me put it this way. All you've had is vitamin supplements for at least a week now. And that was just since you ran into my bike. Who knows how long you were wandering around before that? You need solid food, chum." Then, Kristy patted his shoulder, rubbing her eyes. "Eat up."
Legolas wasn't sure what happened in that exchange, but he frowned at her back. At least she had the decency to sit up on the counter with the same bowl of gruel he did.
Soon however… he realized it wasn't like anything he'd ever eaten.
"Cream of Wheat." Kristy nodded to the bowl as he let the hot cereal settle curiously on his tongue, swallowing slowly and tasting another. Then she yawned, crawled down and dug something out of a cupboard. She sprinkled the spoonful of sugar on his cereal.
Legolas looked up.
"Don't tell doc on me."
Why did she cook for him? Why did she care?
"You are a strange she-human, indeed," Legolas said aloud, because he knew she wouldn't understand him. He raised an eyebrow, stewing on a strange thought. "And I wonder what you plan to do with me."
She shrugged in response, sort of a nondescript, tired shrug, and Legolas sighed. He ate until his stomach told him 'enough'. Then, for what was left of the evening, Kristy went about showing him things. The warm, running water was exquisite. The devilry of the 'television' was horrifying. She talked to him nearly constantly. Legolas understood not a word.
It was becoming grating.
"Don't you think you should be resting?" Kristy said finally in the bathroom, careful to keep an arm-span away. Legolas didn't make a move to touch her, flinched when she did, but she wouldn't tempt fate. Kristy kept away from him.
"I-I mean Doctor Reiner said he was surprised you were up at all. Don't you think you should take it easy?"
"Take-a-teezy?" Legolas repeated, stepping into the shower and fingering the 'cold' knob. Maybe this was like the one in the kitchen…
"You know, sleep." She stared at him, watching him play with the faucet. He looked like a boy, a boy with a strange new toy. Then at his narrow glance, she quickly blinked away and put her face in her hands. Kristy pretended to snore. "Sleep?"
"I am not going to rest," Legolas muttered in reply, examining the shower handle and deciding to try it. "I have slept enough, and I will sleep no more."
"But-"
"- Aye!" He shouted in shock, leaping back. It was not like the one in the kitchen! Legolas gasped, wiping his face and stumbling out of the shower, dripping wet. "Kristine!" he hissed at her agape face, coughing.
"What's the matter with you?" Kristy flinched and hit the shower door shut. He was shocked and spluttering water.
Angry. He was angry.
"You live in a house of wizard's tricks! I do not like it here."
"You pull the handle, obviously it's going to spray you down."
"I do not like it here!" He insisted, pushing his wet hair back. "Why does everything hiss, clang and explode?"
"Don't snap at me." Her back hit the wall. "I didn't do it. I-if you're going to push and pull randomly at objects, they're going to do something. What do you expect?"
"You make no sense, woman." Legolas didn't care that he did the same thing. He talked to her just for someone to talk to, to hear his own voice. But it was infuriating, unable to get his point across without using ridiculous hand motions. He spoke and no one understood. "I have no idea what you're saying," he snapped. Kris winced, flashing her eyes over his face, hurt or confused, he didn't know. "Why do you bother trying?" he demanded anyway.
Kristy's voice broke and she clamped her mouth shut. "I don't have any of my work done. " She uselessly hit the cupboards shut. "Obviously you don't want my help. So you know what? I'm done. Figure it out for yourself."
"Stop speaking." Legolas hissed, "I don't understand and you know it."
Kristy spun around, pointing at him. "Don't you snap at me!"
"You-"
"No! Just stop. I get cranky when I'm tired. Can't you tell?" She turned around. "That means an hour of sleep in longer than I can remember! That means walking twenty-five flights of steps in goddamn heels. That's the power going out, my alarm clock breaking, and getting to work late twice in one week. So don't you dare fucking snap at me!"
And suddenly, Kristy didn't care that he looked more bewildered than angry now. She hit the hair out of her face, wiped it, and pushed past him. Legolas whirled around, staring after.
"Do what you want! I don't care." She stomped into her room and slammed the door shut.
And then, there was silence. He shivered, letting the cold water cling to his skin.
What happened?
Legolas blinked, staring at the plain wood door. And standing there a minute, damp in the hallway, letting his temper cool…Legolas realized he was ungrateful. He was ungrateful, afraid, and he was angry. That's what happened.
Legolas walked numbly into the living room, before dropping down on the sofa. He laced his fingers.
Machines, lights, switches, things that bleeped and squeaked. Why did he let it gnaw at him? Legolas just didn't understand. He couldn't remember. He had nothing but the writing on his arm and words that made no sense. No memory. Nothing.
Then…there was Kristine.
She tried to help him. Kristine fed him, nursed him out of his sickness. She was kind. And yet made no sense! This woman talked on and on about nothing, showed him things he'd never seen before. Then when he let a single burst of anger get the better of him, after all he'd been through, she slammed a door in his face!
What does she expect?Legolas thought, grimacing. It was only normal, and natural, and-and…and selfish.
Legolas stared at the floor. Kristine didn't know any more than he did. She didn't know how to fix him. How could he expect her to? She was exhausted. He saw it as soon as she came in. But he was too focused on himself, his own confusion, his own problems to think about it. He hadn't even thanked her.
But it wasn't too late.
"Kristine?" Legolas said, coming slowly to the closed bedroom door. He stared at the polished wood grains.
Nothing.
"I… I am sorry. Forgive me?" Legolas mumbled the words. The woman may not understand his tongue, but she had to hear the penitence in his voice.
Kristy didn't answer. She was too tired, miserable, and behind in piles of paperwork.
"I thank you for what you have done for me," Legolas murmured more to himself than her. He stared at the carpet under his feet. "I…simply do not know what to do with myself. I have no reason to be here. I know who I should be, yet I am not that person."
Legolas thought about it, trying to put his feelings into words. "I…I should feel the wind and the sun. The green and the trees, they should speak to me. And yet, they do not sing. They are smothered in steel and voices that do not listen. I cannot hear even my own mind."
Legolas lifted a hand, massaging his forehead. He leaned his head on the closed door, whispering. "I am not the same. I am a…a Woodland elf, yet I am not. I know not even what this is. I cannot feel what I am any longer."
And then…Legolas lifted his eyes. The door cracked open with a tiny creak.
"Kristine?"
She looked at him…...or his chest, more accurately…through the space. She wouldn't meet his gaze. Her eyes were tired.
"I am sorry," he said softly.
Kristy mumbled something he didn't hear. It sounded like a hiccup.
He smirked. "Even if I understood this language, I would have missed that."
Kristy sighed, feeling deflated, like a balloon with not quite enough air to scrape off the ground. "I'm sorry." She clenched her fists, shaking, before saying, "I…I didn't mean to shout at you."
"If you apologize, which obviously, I would not understand anyway," Legolas said flatly, but just as quiet, "do not. T'was my fault."
Kristy stared at him mutely a minute, finally steady enough to look at his eyes as they focused on her…before smiling weakly.
"You're wet."
Legolas blinked.
"You're really wet and you had pneumonia and-and…" she trailed off. "I'll go get you a towel."
Legolas turned, staring after in confusion as she slipped around him and disappeared into the bathroom. A minute later though, she came out with a warm, dark towel and pushed it into his chest.
"Here."
He glanced down. Was this a response to his apology?
"If you're hungry again, there's more gruel."
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The next morning, Legolas was eating at the kitchen table. Kristine was opposite, painting her face with a mirror and brush. He watched, fascinated and disgusted. A strange combination.
"I can still see your eyes," Legolas said, chewing on his dry toast. Unappetizing, but it was food. "Here." He handed her what looked like a pen. Why not drown them out completely? "More?" he smiled innocently.
She stared at him, before taking the pen.
"Gee thanks." She mumbled, "Everyone's a critique."
Legolas wasn't even surprised.
Well, at least this language gap was amusing in morning light. As long as he smiled, he could say exactly what he thought of this place, with no consequences. It was good she hadn't caught on yet.
"So…who do you try to impress with your artistic skills?" he asked innocently, resting his chin in one hand. The drapes were pulled back and morning light flooded the kitchen. Kristy was applying more eyeliner and he chewed casually.
"You know I don't know what you're talking about." Kristy tilted her head from side to side, examining her face from every angle. It was unnerving…that blue eyed, perfect face staring at her. But she did her best to ignore it.
"Really, I'm impressed." Legolas dropped his hand, taking a sip of juice. It tasted queer, but at least it wasn't milk. "My caretaker paints murals…on her face. Impressive." Then he grinned like a Cheshire cat. "And she doesn't even know it."
"If you don't stop talking, I'm putting you on mute."
Legolas' eyes were alight. Mischief, intrigue. It couldn't be good. Who knew what he was talking about?
Legolas just leaned back, lacing his fingers behind his head. And suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Legolas looked up. Strange. He heard the steps coming down the hall, but Kristy seemed oblivious.
"Doc!"
The shout was almost simultaneous. Kristy knocked the mirror over scrambling to get up. The screech hurt his ears. Legolas winced and touched it. Was he more sensitive to these things, or did these people just bear it?
Kristy was at the door in a minute, clipping her hair back and unchaining the lock. Outside, an old man stood expectantly in the hall.
"Come on in." Kristy stepped aside. There were gray streaks in Reiner's hair, and he held a small black case of medical supplies. He was nothing if not traditional. "Your patient's in the other room."
"He's coherent, then?"
Kristy laughed, side-eyeing the kitchen doorway. "Something like that."
"Hm. Should be resting."
Kris couldn't see Legolas anymore, but she glanced at the doctor. "What? Why?"
"Sick boy needs sleep. He shouldn't be up and about already."
"Well," Kristy said, taking his coat. "I doubt that's gonna happen. I already tried yesterday. He just stayed up all night watching 'tel'vision' as he calls it. He seems fine."
"Hm," Reiner's moustache twitched. "We'll have to see about that then, won't we?"
Legolas chose to make an entrance at that point, if that's what you could call it. He came up behind Kristy and stared at the doctor, eyes wary and cool. This was the man he remembered. The healer.
"Um, Legolas?" Kristy asked carefully, unsure of how to make herself understood. His smile was gone and he was deadly serious. Legolas stared at the man like he was just waiting for a wrong move. "Doc's gonna check you out, okay?"
Nothing. Not a breath or a blink.
"Well come on," Reiner said in a small voice. His patient was more intimidating awake. The doctor spread a few bottles, a needle, and a stethoscope on the kitchen table.
Legolas still didn't move.
"Sit!" And with that, Reiner made the mistake of turning about with a needle still in hand.
Legolas jerked away and shot a dangerous look, so fierce the little man backpedaled. Kristy pushed the needle out of sight, placing her other hand on Legolas' arm. He didn't pull away, but he tensed under her hand.
"I-I promise he won't hurt you."
True, this healer seemed to help him before. But that didn't mean it was his intent now. Still, Legolas reluctantly sat in the chair and let Reiner do his business. Kristy watched the whole time, leaning on the wall and folding her arms as he studied Legolas's eyes, ears, throat.
"He's a lucky young man," Reiner muttered after a while.
"How lucky?"
"Very. Such severe pneumonia often brings complications." Reiner glanced up. "Barely a week of recovery? With strep throat? I've never seen it before, not in my career."
Kristy didn't answer, but she processed it to think on later. Reiner, with Legolas's blue-gray eyes on him every instant, pressed the icy head of a stethoscope to his chest. Kristy caught his shiver at the cold metal, and it made her smile.
Legolas looked so young, sitting there. Yet not quite. She stared at him. There was something ageless in his eyes, like he could be a boy of fifteen, or an old man of a hundred. She just couldn't decide which.
"What do you think I should do with him?" Kristy asked, looking at his pale face and fine hair. His shirt was unbuttoned to the navel and he sat board-straight, staring at the doctor's every move. Kris tried not to look. Hard, chiseled chest and pale skin like porcelain, he was perfection in its purest form.
"Well you can't keep him here." The doctor peered into Legolas' eyes with a flashlight, breaking Kristy's wandering thoughts. "That's for certain."
"No…" Kristy said quietly. "But what do you suggest?"
"I've been thinking on that." Reiner paused, glancing up. "On the corner of fifth and main, you know? There's a homeless shelter there. Those people'll keep him for a solid week, no questions asked."
Kristy looked away.
"The nice thing is they don't just keep you though," Reiner continued. "They'll try and find work suited for him, maybe family ties in the area. Same name? Friends?"
"Yeah…um," she half-laughed. "I doubt they'll find anything."
Legolas leaned back, glancing between them. He wanted to know what they were saying about him, for they were surely discussing him.
"Why not?"
"I think…I think he's an illegal alien." Kristy confessed, "He didn't have any identification on him."
Reiner shrugged. "Could be. Either way, this is the place for him, if you ask me." Then the doctor dropped the flashlight from Legolas' eyes. "Does he have any pain or discomfort in the lungs?"
"Not that he showed." She sighed, walking over. Kristy touched her throat and her chest questioningly, before wincing. It took a moment, before Legolas realized what she meant and he reluctantly shook his head.
"Amazing. No pain." And Reiner rolled Legolas' sleeve up and picked the needle from the table again. He almost hadn't done it yet, and Legolas bolted to his feet.
"You will not touch me with that!" he snapped out loud, backing away. He didn't need another 'shower' experience.
Reiner stumbled back in shock.
Good. Legolas flashed his eyes between them, just daring them to try it. He was weak, not ill. He didn't need this healer poking and prodding at him anymore. Much less with some pointed object that was obviously only good for stabbing.
"Legolas…please!" Kristy reached out, following with an obviously pleading expression. "He knows what he's doing. Trust me…please. He can help."
Her voice made Legolas pause.
"Please," she said softer, standing where he put the wall at his back for a defense. Her eyes were wide and earnest. They begged him to cooperate. "I know you don't have to trust me, but Reiner knows what's best. He just wants to help. Please?"
Legolas hesitated… looking between them.
This woman was unknown to him, like everything else, but she had helped him. She'd given him food when he had none, blankets in the cold. And most of all, through the useless memories of wandering and wretched fear, he now had a place to ground himself. It was distant, but he remembered it. He had somewhere to brace his feet on and look at the world through clearer eyes.
He owed that to Kristine.
"Very well," Legolas muttered, before dropping into the chair and pushing his sleeve up.
Legolas didn't know why or how the healer stuck him and injected the…something, into him, but it didn't take long for his eyes to grow heavy.
"Should take a minute or so."
"What will?" Kristy studied the way Legolas sat in his chair. It was like he could sit there for hours, or if he chose, be on the other side of the room before she could blink. She kept her eyes on him constantly, wanting to catch the movement if he did.
"I've given him a strong sedative," Reiner explained.
And Kristy shot her head up. "What?"
"It'll make sure he stays out awhile, gets some rest. That's all." Reiner hastily picked up his bag. Legolas' eyes were growing heavy by the minute, and he was breathing fast. Something was definitely happening. "…and antibiotics to help keep his lungs clear. When he goes to the shelter, we don't want him having a relapse. Right?"
Legolas grimaced as they talked, slowly reaching to hold his head. Why was he so tired? His eyes felt like lead weights. Their voices were muffled and blurring and- And realization struck.
Damn it! He'd drugged him!
Legolas stumbled to his feet, furious.
"You cursed doctor!" he shouted, suddenly terrified of the blackness closing in. It was coming down faster now. He couldn't control it. He didn't want unconsciousness, not knowing what was happening. Legolas needed control, to see his fate. But the world blurred and he lost his balance.
"I…I better go, Kris."
"You will suffer a fate worse than death if you show your face to me again!" Legolas hissed, stumbling against the wall. It was infuriating.
"I'll see you in the morning." Reiner waved, scurrying out the door a little nervously at the last, murderous glare shot him from Legolas.
"I wouldn't recommend it. Just gimme a call!" She shut the door behind him and turned.
"That-" Legolas was on his knees now, fighting to stay awake. He'd be damned if he let this have him! "That man will not touch me again. You'll not let him in here again, Kristine."
Kristy didn't know what he was rambling about, but a wave of remorse made her dip to her knees. "I didn't know he was going to do that. I swear." She whispered, looking up at him. Legolas struggled, gripping the floor and the wall.
"Please forgive me. I'm sorry…I didn't know."
Legolas screwed his eyes shut, trying to ward it off. But it was no use. He couldn't fight it.
And then, somehow he knew this happened before. It was his first real, concrete memory. A young woman, a healer stitching him back together. And then drugging him, making him pass out! He remembered the fury and shame at looking so weak, when he was perfectly capable of staying awake and dealing with the pain.
Kristy caught his head as he fell. The last thing Legolas saw was a glimpse of her face.
"It'll be all right," she whispered soothingly. "You'll wake up again. You'll feel better. I promise."
The darkness was here to stay and he had to give in. He had to. Had to…
His eyes slid shut and his body went limp.
Kristy sighed. "I'm sorry."
She sat on the floor and cradled his head awhile, letting his silky blonde hair drain through her fingers. Kris stared at him, a rush of inexplicable wonder sifting through her tossed emotions. His skin was flawless and white, so…so perfect.
All of the fury, the fear and silent control was gone. He looked ageless. The face that looked at her with such deadly, fathomless eyes was gone. And she knew he wasn't just angry. Legolas was afraid. He was afraid of the dark. He was afraid of losing himself, losing his way.
And Kristy sighed…watching him sleep. He took quick panting breaths as he calmed. He wasn't a hundred anymore. Right now, he was just a boy.
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