The family Sitting Room materialized around her, the golden sunlight entering through the very familiar tall arched windows, momentarily blinding her as her eyes slowly fell on the occupants of the grand room. It was an image she had seen before, although that time from the memory Arahaelon had shown her. And there she was again, merely a baby, small golden curls framing messily over her chubby face crawling over the floor with a bright red crayon in hand.
Everything in the image was exactly as she remembered it, exactly as Arahaelon had shown her. To one side of the elegant room she could see Lossenel and her eldest brother peacefully sitting at a round table, slowly moving the pieces of a crystal game of chess. Her father was there as well, sitting comfortably on a long couch, with her mother leaning her body casually against his, their eyes focused on following the baby version of her as she crawled through the carpeted floor. It was a strange odd feeling, watching the scene that she already remembered but because of her own experience, only waiting for the same events to take place again, knowing exactly what would happen.
She noticed Tadion there too, sitting crossed legged on the floor. Long golden hair fell loosely down his back, his untroubled clear blue eyes watching as an elfling version of Legolas, watching as his younger brother traced lines and colors over a stretched large piece of parchment. Every once in a while, Tadion's finger would point to a spot in the page, and the small version of Legolas would quickly move the crayon in the specified direction.
The baby version of her had managed to make her way to where the Crown Prince sat, a tiny hand reaching up to pull at her eldest brother's leg, stealing his attention from the game of chess. As soon as her brother had looked in her direction, the baby stretched one tiny arm, a wide smile appearing in her innocent face as she offered the crayon to the older elf.
"Thank you, again." The Crown Prince added between chuckles, his emerald eyes looking amusedly at his sister. The baby let out a mirthful squeal before dashing out to fetch another crayon, Lossenel letting out a chorus of bell-like laugher at her actions.
"Come, little brother, let us go see what is in the kitchens." She heard Tadion saying softly, silently slipping out of the room with Legolas at his heels, leaving a mess of paper and crayons behind him.
"Thank you." The Crown Prince repeated as a accepted yet another crayon, this time both of his parents joining along in the laughter, Lossenel's sparkling green-blue eyes throwing her brother a questioning look.
"She is going to give them all to you." The Elvenking commented as Arahaelon leaned down and picked his youngest sister in his arms to prevent her from going to look for yet another crayon. The baby reached her tiny hands to his face, gripping at his cheeks as she stood on his lap, his hands helping her remain upright.
"Say Ar" The Crown Prince tried, but his sister was concentrated on grabbing his nose, making him have to put her tiny hand away.
"Say Ar." Arahaelon repeated and this time his sister's eyes turned to him, a new look of concentration on her face. She opened her tiny mouth as if to say something but closed it again, her expression overly concentrated.
"Aaaaaaaarrrr" The Crown Prince helped his sister who opened her mouth again, bouncing slightly on his lap. Her hands reached once again to her brother's face, patting over his cheeks. "Say Aaaaaaaarrr"
"Aawrr." The baby said, looking straight into her brother's powerful emerald eyes. Arahaelon grinned widely before placing a quick kiss on his sister's rosy cheek, laughing as the baby squirmed away from his mouth.
"Say Ada" The Elvenking called out from the couch, and the Queen let out a chorus of chuckles beside him. His youngest daughter turned her head in his direction.
"Nada!" The baby exclaimed, bouncing her tiny fists in the air uncoordinatedly. All elves in the room burst into laughter, the King muttering a low "I give up."
"Say Ar." Arahaelon stole his sister's attention once more.
"Awr." The baby repeated, receiving another quick kiss on the cheek.
"Say Ar, I love you so much you are my favorite brother and the most handsome elf in all of Arda."
"You are stretching your luck, Ar." Lossenel commented with a chuckle as her youngest sister stared curiously at the Crown Prince, her green eyes concentrated on her brother's. Her tiny hands continued to trace over her brother's face, squealing as he made faces at her in a very un-princely manner.
The baby continued to squeal and laugh, looking intently into her brother's eyes, the stare between them never once breaking. There was a look of concentration on her face, as if she was looking at something else inside her eldest brother's eyes, something deeper.
She could feel the anticipation, the despair inside of her that made her wish she could do anything to prevent what would happen next, as if hoping that only wishing it could actually change the past. But she was not really in that room, she could do nothing but watch, the memory not even belonging to her. And no matter how many times she asked to see these same set of images, the outcome would never change.
And it happened once more, so fast she once again did not have time to register the entirety of the events. The baby's eyes stared intently into her brother's. One of her tiny hands grabbed onto his left arm to support herself, the sudden contact like an unexpected shock that made Arahaelon gasp sharply, green eyes wide as his body stiffened abruptly. But this time the images did not stop there.
The Elvenking had jumped to his feet, faster than she thought was even possible. The Queen suddenly looked up, Lossenel letting a frightened cry as she too leaped from her seat. It could not have happened this fast, her heart skipping a beat in fright at how quickly everything went. The Crown Prince fell limp, his body swaying sideways on the chair he had been sitting on, but his father was already by his side, one quick hand immediately preventing his eldest son from falling, the other hand breaking the baby's hand from her brother's arms in a move so fast she had barely even seen it. He had immediately known what had happened, must have immediately felt it.
"Arahaelon?" The Elvenking whispered in a panicked rush, kneeling by the chair to be at his son's eye level. His hand flew to her eldest brother's cheek, as if trying desperately to get a response, any response, while his other hand continued to prevent his son from falling to the floor. "My son? Arahaelon, can you hear me?"
Lossenel was already there too, reacting as quickly as her father in taking the baby from the now unresponsive Crown Prince's lap and cradling against her own body. It was as if in a single second the previous carefree and happy aura in the room had completely vanished, replaced by a sudden deeply rooted fear that she could almost feel seeping into her own distant body.
The baby version of her let out a loud cry the instant her body was lifted into the air, fat tears rapidly running down her rosy cheeks as her green eyes continued to look at the her now unconscious brother, as if not understanding what had happened, why was he no longer making faces and laughing with her. The Elvenking yelled out a name, and the urgent tone stained with a sort of panic she had never heard before made chills travel down her spine. Her father did not even seem to wait for a reply, already cradling the unmoving body of his eldest son into his arms and lifting him from the chair with surprising ease.
For the first time she noticed that the Queen had ran to join her husband, her beautiful face holding an expression of utter panic that she wished she could forget, her eyes wide in fear.
"What is it?" her mother continued to say over and over again, her voice shaking, words spoken fast as her eyes seemed to plead to her husband for a reply. "Thranduil, what is it? What happened? My son….."
But she was interrupted by the large pair of wooden door's suddenly being flung open, a guard running into the room with the same urgency with which his name had been called. "My Lord?"
She could see the guard's dark blue eyes widening suddenly at the sight, his face blanching immediately, and she already knew why. In his father's arms, the Crown Prince looked lifeless, his previously gleaming emerald eyes now closed, even his skin had suddenly lost all of its color, looking almost ashen. He looked dead.
Lossenel seemed to have completely lost her voice, her green-blue eyes looking as wide and scared as her mother's, still holding onto her crying sister, bouncing her quickly in an attempt to stop her crying. But it seemed that nothing would stop the baby's wails.
The King's sharp cold eyes turned immediately to glare daggers at the summoned guard, deep burning fear also visible in his perfectly composed face.
"Get Melnor immediately!" The King commanded, his raised voice nearly cutting through the guard as he did not even wait for a reply before hurrying out of the room as quick as his agile feet would take him, still holding tightly onto her eldest brother's inert body.
The guard did not wait either, not even needing to be told twice before he dashed from the room in a run, and she was sure she had never seen any elf run as fast through the Palace's corridors.
The Queen ran to follow her husband, her pained, scared, wide emerald eyes still glued to her unconscious son's body, and yet she suddenly stopped, turning back to look at Lossenel. Her mother took a quick glance at her crying youngest daughter, and she could see the conflict in the Queen's eyes as she desperately needed to ensure that her eldest son was alive and well and yet could also needed to see to her baby daughter.
"I will watch her" Loosenel was quick to answer, as if being able to read her mother's eyes, still bouncing the crying baby lightly against her body. And she could tell that the Princess too wanted to follow, but stay behind to watch over her youngest sister.
And that was all the Queen needed, nodding her head once before she too dashed outside of the vast Sitting Room at her husband's heels. Never before had she felt that the distance between the Family Room and her brother's bedchambers was so large, the images following her rushing father through the familiar intricate corridor lined by tall pointed arches supporting the ceiling above. Yet it seemed as if the cold stone of the walls whispered frantically to them, urging every step to be faster.
The overly familiar long hallway with the five doors she already knew so well finally came into view, the Queen quickly using one of her free hands to turn the golden doorknob of the Crown Prince's bed chambers, holding the door open for the King to pass through. Golden light filtered into the spacious room form the balcony and windows, the dark blue curtains being left open and neatly tied to the sides. The Queen was still moving fast, always a step ahead of her father, crossing the spacious bedchamber in long strides towards the overly large bed placed in the center of the room. Her hands gripped at the silken dark blue covers, pulling them down in a rushed move, hands still shaking.
"Where is Melnor?!" The King nearly yelled as he stepped into the room, his eyes throwing daggers at the horrified guard standing dutifully by the now open door. "WHERE IS THE HEALER?!"
The Elvenking was fast to reach his wife's side gently lowering her eldest brother onto the soft bed, his hands overly careful, as if scared that only moving his son could harm him more. She could feel as her stomach dropped all the way to her feet at the sight, starting to regret ever asking to see the entire story of what had happened, knowing that this was only the beginning. Softly, the Queen pulled the feathered silk coveres back over the Crown Prince's alarmingly still body, her hands seeming to be shaking even more that before, green eyes still wide in terror as she dropped herself to her knees. Tender fingers slid down her eldest bother's long light blond hair, gently placing it away from his face and smoothing it over the pillows, the softness and care of the hand one that she wished she could remember.
Suddenly the Queen's eyes widened even more, flying to look at her husband as her overly gentle hand fell over her eldest son's forehead, her voice shaking as she spoke. "He is ice cold, Thranduil….He….he is so cold…"
Her parent's heads turned sharply towards the door as another figure suddenly ran through it, and she immediately recognized the head healer rushing towards the bed, two other healers she had not seen before following quickly at his heels. It only took a single look at the lifeless looking Crown Prince on the bed for Melnor's eyes to suddenly widen. The healer did not even address his King and Queen before his finger were already pressing onto the unmoving Prince's wrist, frantically feeling for a pulse.
An unsettling silence had fallen over the room and she was forced to watch, unable to look away, unable to close her eyes as the healer's expert fingers moved from her brother's wrist to his neck, then back to his wrist again. The seconds seemed to stretch into painful hours, the silence, the thick despair floating in the room in anticipation feeling unbearable, the only sound hanging in the freezing air was the muted sound of the Queen's shaky breaths. The healer was not finding a pulse.
And she felt it once more, that poisonous burning feeling that seemed to turn her stomach and send cold shivers down her body. No matter how many times she heard that it had not been her fault, no many times she tried to tell herself that she had not been able to control it, that she had merely been a baby and that it had been an accident, the frail, pale figure of her eldest brother lying seemingly dead upon the overly large bed had been her doing. Doronor's accusation once again dancing threateningly inside her mind, the cold words seeming to mock her, haunt her. "You nearly killed your brother…"
The healer's fingers had dropped from the Crown Prince's wrist, one hand moving instead to his chest while the other rested softly on his forehead a look of deep concentration suddenly covering his ageless face. Nobody moved in the ample golden lit room, even the King appeared completely petrified, the image one that she once again longed to forget. Her father was sitting at the edge of the bed, unmoving, one of his hands softly placed over the Queen's delicate shoulders. Yet it was the wide deep terror that consumed the glaciers inside her father's eyes as he pierced mercilessly through the healers which once again made her wish she had never asked to see this.
"He lives." The healer's whispered words finally broke the haunted silence, the Queen letting out a shaky sigh of utter relief, her frightened green eyes closing momentarily. Yet, the deep worry that remained visible in the healer's face quickly took away any relief that his words may have brought. More than only worried, the healer was scared, and the King seemed to be able to see that.
"But?" The King pressed, and it only took one second, one single exchange of looks in between the healer and her father for her to understand that the Elvenking already seemed to know what the healer would say, seemed to fear and pray that it would not be the case. The healer's eyes dropped down to glance at the unmoving Prince, his eyes closing for a moment before he gathered his strength to speak.
"But the damage runs too deep. Yet it is hard to tell how much damage there is exactly." The healer's eyes met the King's once more, silent, somber, and she immediately knew what the healer meant. Melnor's hand had carefully reached for the Crown Prince's limp left arm, slowly turning it around, his eyes falling suddenly on the angry red handprint burned into the pale flawless skin. The healer had not once asked, yet he seemed to know or guess the cause of her brother's condition.
"I cannot heal this, My Lord." The healer continued, bowing his head slightly in defeat, delivering all the information needed. "There is no way to heal this. His spirit is beyond weak, fragmented, his energy feels imbalanced. There is barely any energy left in him, it was hard to reach him, Your Majesty. The only thing I can do is provide him with healing energy and hope it can help strengthen him enough."
"Then do it" The King hissed in return, seething eyes burning through the healer who seemed unaffected by his King sudden hostility.
Not uttering another word, the healer proceeded to once again softly place one hand over the Crown Prince's forehead, the other over his head, a look of deep concertation one again taking over his face. And he seemed to be lost to his surroundings, a faint glow now visible from where his hands touched the unmoving elf. The Queen scared green eyes had turned once more to look at her husband.
"Thranduil?" For once the Queen's voice was unwavering as her eyes bore deeply into her father's. "You can reach our son easier than Melnor, why do you not try?"
Her father's eyes darkened at the words, gentle ice blue irises turning to look softly at the Queen, one of his hands crushing a strand of long golden hair form her face. "The unexpected connection took too much from him. If I try to reach him now, he will not survive."
The images shifted once more, coming in and out of focus like fog, and once again she found herself in the Crown Prince's bedchambers, except that it was dark now. She could not tell how much time had passed since the first memory and this one, but it could not have been much. Arahaelon still lay unmoving on the center of the large bed, skin alarmingly pale, not having moved an inch since the last memory. And yet the sight still shocked her, made her heart constrict painfully. It was hard to believe that her strong eldest brother, the one that always managed to made her feel so young and naïve next to his noble regal presence was the same frail and vulnerable figure she was now seeing on the comfortable bed.
Tadion sat on the edge of the mattress, wearing a dark blue casual tunic that seemed to almost match the color of the silken bedcover, embroidered in fine patterns with silver thread. Her brother's golden hair fell loosely down his back, his usually untroubled, welcoming clear blue eyes now looking somber, constantly lifting from the book he was reading to glance at the unconscious Arahaelon every two seconds. She also noticed the King, sitting quietly on an elegant cushioned chair that had been placed next to the bed, one of his hands tenderly stroking down his eldest son's hair.
A weak groan coming from the bed made Tadion silently shut the book closed, leaving it forgotten upon the soft mattress as his saddened warm blue eyes turned back to look at his eldest brother.
"Arahaelon?" The King's gentle voice was barely audible as he spoke, fearing that even the faintest of sounds would disturb his firstborn son, his hand moving to land softly upon a sickly pale cheek. He was met with another weak moan as a reply, the Crown Prince beginning to stir.
Slowly, Arahaelon's heavy eyelids fluttered open only half-way, blinking a couple of times at his surroundings. Those usually powerful and penetrating emerald eyes looked dazed now, fogged, trying to focus slowly on the figures sitting next to him. He looked beyond exhausted, drained, even if he was only now regaining consciousness.
"Ar?" Tadion was the one to speak this time, his voice as low as his father's, and it was once again the tortured worried look in those ever teasing, ever welcoming and carefree blue eyes that made her heart shatter to pieces. She had seen that look cross her brother's gaze once before. It was the same look that she had seen in Elrohir's eyes every time Elladan had been injured or in pain. "How do you feel?"
The Crown Prince opened his mouth as if to reply, but only closed it again as he swallowed once, his eyes falling closed once more for a long moment. Neither the King nor Tadion spoke for a while, merely allowing Arahaelon a few moments to breathe before his forest green eyes blinked open once more, his brow furrowed in either pain or weariness, she could not tell. He seemed deeply confused, as if his mind was still too hazed for him to easily remember what had happened.
Tadion stood gently form the edge of the mattress, careful to not even jostle the bed as he rose, walking the short distance to the elegant round table in the corner and filling a glass of fresh water from the silver pitcher that had been standing there. Walking back towards the bed, she saw Tadion handing the glass to his father, the latter placing it softly on the bedside table before carefully lifting Arahaelon to a slightly sitting position. The Crown Prince did not even try to help, did not even attempt to hold the glass that was now being carefully pressed to his lips, and the truth of what that meant only made her heart sink further. He lacked the strength to do so.
"How do you feel, my son?" The King tried this time, slowly lowering Arahaelon once more onto the mountain of feathered pillows, returning the now half-full glass of water to the bedside table. But the Crown Prince had closed his eyes once more, once again breathing tiredly for a few minutes, his brow furrowing deeper. He was in pain, there no doubt about it now.
"Where does it hurt?" Her father had easily read through his firstborn's expression, his voice that soft gentle tone she knew was only reserved for his family, fingers softly placing a strand of long hair behind Arahaelon's ear.
"Arm" The word was spoken so faintly she barely even heard it, having to read the Crown Prince's lips to make it out, as if simply speaking resulted too exhausting at the moment.
She saw the King's eyes turning to look at Tadion, opening his mouth to speak but his younger son had already risen to his feet, nodding his head in silence and walking out of the room, no doubt on his way to fetch the healer.
"Melnor will be here shortly." Her father's comforting voice continued, hand once again tenderly stroking down Arahaelon long strands of light blond hair. "He will mix you something for the pain."
The Crown Prince answered simply with a weak nod of the head, dazed eyes traveling down to look at his left arm, falling at first confused upon the raw looking mark of tiny fingers marring the otherwise flawless skin. And then his eyes widened suddenly, head turning to look at his father as fast as his weakened state would allow it.
"Almarëa?" He breathed out quickly, his voice still had barely audible rasp she did not even recognize. Yet what made her heart constrict was the suddenly worried, scared expression on his eyes as he scrutinized his father for an answer. "How is Almarëa?"
"She is perfectly fine." The Elvenkign answered quickly, trying to calm his son's sudden fear, needing to repeat his words as Arahaelon did not seem to fully believe them the first time. "Nothing has happened to her. She sleeps peacefully now. She is all right."
That seemed to help, the Crown Prince simply nodding his head weakly once more before his eyes fell once again closed, trying to catch his breath. He once again seemed completely drained, and long seconds passed before his eyes opened again.
"Did I hurt her?...The connection…did it hurt her?" Her eldest brother's question felt like cold sharp daggers into her already guilty heart, and she saw his father close his eyes momentarily before answering. Arahaelon was once more out of breath, speaking resulting too taxing for him at the moment, draining him from what little energy he had. "I could not pull away…."
"Do not speak, my son. Try to rest." The Elvenking spoke gently once more. "You did not hurt her. She does not even know anything happened. The connection did nothing to her, do not worry about that now."
And once again the King's words seemed to help calm the exhausted Prince down, Arahaelon's eyes once more falling closed underneath his deeply knitted brow, catching his breath as another wave of pain seemed to assault him.
"My arm really hurts…" Her eldest brother breathed out, his eyes not even opening as he spoke, and she was sure he would have never admitted that to anyone other than the King.
"I know." The King's voice was as gentle as it had previously been, yet his seething eyes flashed to glare at the closed door behind him, and she had no doubt that the healer would be burned alive the second he arrived.
Long minutes passed in complete silence, the only thing that told her that Arahaelon was still awake was his weary slightly ragged breathing and the deep furrow over his closed eyes. And once again the King's hand had resumed its task of tenderly traveling down his firstborn's hair, starting at his forehead and gently smoothing the long strands over the mountain of feathered pillows.
"Ada?" The Crown Prince's raspy voice broke the silence, yet it sounded different, suddenly anxious, and she could see that his breathing had become heavier, his brow furrowing deeper, eyes blinking open to glance at his father. "I do not feel well."
"I know, my son. Melnor will be here soon." Her father's comforting voice answered quickly, but Arahaelon only shook his head, seeming to be getting more agitated by the second.
"No…" He tried to speak once more, emerald eyes now looking puzzled once more, a combination of pain and fatigue mixing with a sudden worry and anxiety as his trembling right hand traveled to grasp at his tunic over his chest. "….Not right… Something is off...I do not feel well…."
"Do not speak, Arahaelon. You are exhausted." The King shushed quickly, holding his son's trembling hand and carefully guiding it back down to rest over the covers. And yet she did not miss the darker, somber glaze that covered her father's eyes, closing for a second as tortured expression crossed his marbled face for a split second. The King knew what was wrong, and whatever it was it was something Arahaelon could very visibly, painfully feel but could not exactly name yet. "You will feel better after you have rested. Try to sleep."
And yet, the Crown Prince shook his head once more, the movement would have been brusque had it not been for his obviously weakened state. He was breathing heavily now, as if trying to calm himself, but whatever torture it was that seemed to be agitating him much he did not seem to be able to escape. And yet he did not add anything else, seeming too drained to continue arguing, even though his breathing still remained ragged, his eyes tightly shut.
And the image vanished once more, slender pillar extending infinitely, branching out in the intricate patterns of trees to support the high ceiling above. She recognized the room as well. It was the King's bedchamber. The cool night breeze toyed lazily with the curtains framing the ample balcony, the Moonlight washing gently over the two figures sleeping underneath wine red silk covers.
The door slammed open, bare feet rushing over the polished marble floor as the Princess ran into the grand bedchamber. Her long silvery nightgown threated to tangle with her feet, hair paler than the Moon cascading in a disarray down her thin shoulders.
"Ada?" Lossenel had reached the bed, whispering quickly in a single breath, delicate hands urgently shaking her father's shoulders. But was already awake, bolting upright the second the Princess' hands fell on him, ice blue eyes open in concern, quickly scanning his daughter from head to toe.
"Lossie?" The Queen had also stirred, emerald eyes blinking a couple of times, adjusting to the darkness.
"Lossenel?" Her father's voice dripped with worry, a hand immediately falling over the snowy Princess' thin shoulder as he swung his feet over the side of the bed, rising in a single fluid move. His eyes never once left Lossenel, still seeming to be scrutinizing her entirely, as if trying to figure out what, if anything, could be ailing her. "What is it? Are you all right?"
"It is Ar." And that was all it took. In a flash, her father was already carelessly throwing on a night robe, the Queen already out of bed and following her husband in a rush outside of the bedchamber. Lossenel followed closely behind, and for the first time she noticed the fear residing inside the endless green-blue icy lake of her eyes.
"He came to wake me…." Her sister's words seemed juggled together, speaking as fast as she could as they dashed down the long familiar lighted hallway "I did not know what to do…."
The King had already reached the door he had been looking for, pushing it open immediately, letting the flickering light from the hallway sweep into the dark interiors of the room. Her sister's bedchamber was exactly as she remembered it, pale ivory curtains hanging enchantingly from every arched window and framing the overly large balcony. In the center of the room, the equally ivory covers of a wide bed laid thrown hallway to the floor in a heap one of the pillows even haven fallen onto the marble floor. But her eyes had immediately landed on the only figure currently occupying the room, her heart seeming to stop beating momentarily.
"Arahaelon." The King's whisper hung in the air, his feet dashing out towards the balcony, joined closely by the Queen, who seemed to have been robbed of the ability to speak. But she felt the same way, even if the images were nothing but a distant memory that she could only witness. And more than anything she wishes she could unsee this, that she had never asked, the image too shocking. The elf in the vision could not be her eldest brother.
The Crown Prince sat on the balcony's cold floor, his back against the twisting and intertwining patterns that supported the railing, knees pressed up to his chest. He did not seem to have noticed anyone entering the room yet as he held his head in his hands, breath coming in shaky gasps of air, fingers tangling with his long blond strands of hair. His whole body was shaking, one of his hands suddenly flying to grip at his nightclothes at his chest, gripping at it so fiercely she believed she would break through the fabric and draw blood.
"Arahaelon?" Her father's voice betrayed as much worry as his ice blue eyes, dropping to his knees next to his eldest son, a hand quickly reaching to cup at his pale cheek. "My son?"
Arahaelon's eyes snapped up, and she felt as if sharp claws had suddenly tightened around her heart, squeezing it in an ice cold grip. Her eldest brother's emerald eyes were wide, glazed with the deepest fear. She could not see anything in their green expanses, everything clouded by the most overwhelming distress she had ever seen, it was misery, agony. And then those shaken green eyes suddenly turned to land on the Queen, as if for the first time also noticing her presence in the room, suddenly seeming to plead at her.
"Nana…." That voice surprised her, it was not her brother's voice, it could not be, the sound as shaky as his heavy breathing. And she could not tell why but that mere call seemed to twist at her insides and make her heart drop even lower. The Queen was by his side immediately, her face an expression of torture that hurt to see, and she could read in those incredibly worried green eyes, exactly like hers, that Arahaelon rarely called in distress, rarely ever called for his mother's attention at all, always the eldest brother.
The Queen's delicate arms wrapped warmly over the Crown Prince, dropping herself to the floor next to him, cradling his figure as if he was nothing more than an elfling, his head falling instantly to rest on her small shoulder, but none of that seemed to help. His breathing continued to come in shaky gasps, trembling fingers still clawing at his chest, seeming to be getting more and more desperate. Whatever it was that was ailing him he did not seem to be able to escape it.
"Arahaelon, breathe." The Elvenking added softly, ice blue eyes searching for his son's distressed emerald ones, his sole presence suddenly appearing calming. His hands quickly grasped at his son's shaking ones and only now she could see that there were red scratches just underneath Arahaelon's neck, where his fingers had obviously missed the fabric and clawed straight onto his skin. "Breathe deeply."
She could see the Crown Prince trying, eyes falling closed as he took in deep shaky breaths, but it did not seem to be helping either, suddenly shaking his head furiously, trying to take his hands to his chest once more but the King only gripped them all the more tightly.
"It does not go away….I can no longer reach…" Her eldest brother's breathing was once again coming in sharp gasps, the Queen suddenly muttering soothing words that she did not manage to catch, but Arahaelon did not seem to hear them either. "I do not feel well….."
"I know, my son. I know." Her father's voice was steady, the sole sound carrying a calming aura, even if his eyes burned with a hidden painful sorrow, a sorrow that seemed to suddenly confirmed a what he had deeply feared. He had once again gained Arahaelon's attention, the latter seeming to be focusing on his father like an anchor, trying to escape whatever it was that was torturing him thus. "Try to breathe. Try to focus on something else."
And suddenly her heart stopped. She felt it. Softly at first but growing overwhelming within seconds, the feeling engraved on the memory as strongly as her father must have felt it then. And she suddenly did not want to see anymore, did not want to finish witnessing this memory, realizing that had really not wanted to know this.
She could sense Arahaelon's spirit through the memory of her father, or rather what seemed to be left of it, her blood suddenly turning to ice. It felt fractured, pulsating dissonantly in agonizing screeches, except that this time, unlike how her father's torn spirit had felt, there was no injury. There was no rupture. No wound. Instead there was…a void, a hole, as if part of it had dissolved, shut down, had lost too much energy that could not be replaced… and the rest of it cried in distress not having enough energy left to do anything about it...And he could feel it, he could feel the hollowness, the emptiness from what seemed to be such a deep part of him. Of course he could not escape the feeling, he would never be able to escape it.
She did not know much about powers, did not even know much about hers, but she did know how deep they ran. And she mentally cursed herself for not having thought this through before asking to see the memory. These powers, these sensitivities, were not just an extra ability, were not something you learned as one learned a new skill. They were imbedded in the spirit, they were part of them….
And yet something else was suddenly clear now. There had never been a break in the connection, had never been an interruption that would cause an injury to his spirit. The connection had never been held as such in the first place. Since the moment she had accidentally touched his arm she had pulled at hi, pulled at his energy, never allowing time for both spirits to connect, hers simply pulling stronger. And there had thus never been a break. His spirit had not fractured the way her father's had, he would not die from this injury…..but she did not know if that made it any more bearable in the first place….She had not nearly killed her brother, she had partially killed her brother, and there was that void, that part of his spirit that had completely devoid of energy and shut down to prove it…
"Arahaelon, breathe" Her father repeated in the same soothing voice, not once betraying the despair and agony that lingered inside his ice blue irises, and once again she could feel Arahaelon trying to follow his father's words, trying to calm down, to escape the torture he must have been going through, but it was easier said than done.
"Nana…"Her eldest brother whispered again, emerald eyes falling closed once more as his bead once again buried in the Queen's shoulder, the latter looking as desperate and as torn as the King, once again cradling his son as he was no older than a little elfling.
The images changed once more, and she had never before been more grateful for the change in scenery. The nightly lit bedchamber was suddenly replaced by the long golden rays of sun, bouncing on the elegant carpet of the familiar Family Sitting Room.
Her father sat casually on a comfortable cushioned chair by the roaring fireplace, eyes softly following the intricate texts of a thick book. An elfling version of Legolas currently lay curled on his lap, seeming to be fast asleep cradled against his father's chest, his light blond strands of baby hair falling messily over part of his face.
Some steps away from the King, Arahaelon sat in the long couch by the window, seeming to be half-way through another game of chess with Lossenel, although she could not really tell who was currently winning. And yet, her eldest brother looked as tall and regal as ever, the only thing telling her that not much time must have passed since the accidental connection was the fact that he still looked overly tired.
She let her eyes roam around the room for a while, falling on the elegant figure of the Queen as she carefully lowered the baby version of herself into a heavenly crafted crib in one corner of the room. The baby gave a few quiet wails in protest, arms uncoordinatedly waving above her head in a silent request to be picked up again, only managing a chorus of bell-like laughter to escape the Queen's mouth.
"You have to sleep." She heard her mother cooing the child, but the baby kept waving her tiny hands over her head. "No, Almarëa, it is time for your nap."
The majestic pair of wooden doors was gently pushed open, her eyes turning in time to find Tadion walking inside the room, his eyes carrying that characteristic carefree smirk that seemed to follow him wherever he went.
"Looks like a little someone tired himself out from too much running?" She could hear the warm laughter in Tadion's voice as his clear blue eyes glanced at the sleeping Legolas in the King's lap, Lossenel letting out a couple of chuckles as a response.
"Do not wake him, Tadion." The King warned sternly, even if his ice blue eyes still managed to smile warmly at his son.
But Tadion simple waived a hand in return, his eyes focused instead on the game of chess set on the table between Arahaelon and Lossenel, already making his way there. And yet a sudden high-pitched cry made his head turn in the direction of the beautiful crib, where the baby version of herself had managed to use the crib's little wooden posts to pull herself unsteadily on her feet, large emerald eyes looking at her brother as if demanding his attention.
"Hello, Almarëa." Tadion said almost immediatedly, and she could have laughed if she could at the sudden set of giggles that left the baby's mouth, clearly having received the intended response from her brother, one hand waving messily from side to side in a clumsy greeting gesture.
"Do you want to finish the game?" The Crown Prince's serene voice made Tadion's clear blue eyes once again turn in his direction, not waiting for an invitation before dropping himself on the couch next to his brother, facing Lossenel.
"Were you winning?" Tadion questioned as he took the piece Arahaelon had been currently holding, not seeming to wait for an answer before taking over his brother in the unfinished game, waiting for Lossenel to make her move first.
"I was winning." Arahaelon let out a single tired chuckle, his emerald eyes falling closed as he leaned back comfortably on the couch now that he no longer had to continue the game until the end. "Do not lose now."
"He will lose." Lossenel objected almost immediately, one of her hands absently readjusting one of the aquamarine incrusted hair pins back into place from where it had been sliding down her long platinum tresses.
"I will not!" Tadion was quick to reply, his face an exaggerated expression of feigned offense, but his sister only silently rolled her eyes at him, waving with a hand for him to hurry up and make his move.
Out of the corner of her eyes she caught sight of the Queen waltzing over to where her father sat, gently leaning down and easing the sleeping Legolas into her arms with the help of her husband.
"I will take him to his bed." She heard her mother whispering lowly, the little elfling now cradled against her chest, tiny thin arms wrapping around her neck in his sleep. The King only nodded his head, smiling gently at his wife, as if he did not dare say a word for fear of waking up the finally asleep hurricane of energy.
"That is not fair" Taidon suddenly muttered in between carefree chuckles, Lossenel suddenly taking yet another of his pieces from the board.
"Of course it is fair." His sister was quick to reply, her eyes already gleaming in anticipated victory as Tadion made another move that she obviously thought to be the wrong one to make.
Next to Tadion, Arahaelon seemed to be falling asleep, his closed eyes betraying his remaining exhaustion and weariness, still seeming to be recovering from the accidental connection. Although she knew that there would always be a part of him that would never recover. Lossenel suddenly reached a finger to her lips, the corner of her mouth turning up in an amused smile, her eyes pointing towards Arahaelon's direction. Tadion turned to look at his eldest brother almost immediately, a teasing smile growing on his face as his nodded his head in understanding, both of them continuing the game in complete silence.
A soothing silence fell over room, dancing at the song of the crackling fireplace, Tadion and Lossenel continuing to move pieces around the board for long moments. And yet they never finished the game for Arahaelon had finally succumbed to sleep, his head lolling against the back of the couch and falling to lean over Tadion's shoulder. And that was it for game, Tadion suddenly remaining completely still, seeming to not want to risk waking his exhausted eldest brother by moving even an inch.
But the baby seemed to be having other ideas, suddenly letting out a loud squeak, once again managing to pull herself up on her feet, this time holding what seemed to be an unfortunate stuffed horse by the tail.
"Shhhhh!" Lossenel turned to her youngest sister trying to hide her smile as she placed a finger in front of her lips. She caught sight of the King also turning to look, laughing silently at his youngest daughter's call for attention.
"Shhhhhh" The baby imitated, one entire hand falling to cover her mouth in an attempt to copy her older sister.
"Yes, Rëa, shhhhhh" Lossenel whispered in return, smiling widely at the baby's attempt to copy her, but this time it did not have the intended reaction from the baby, as her large green eyes had suddenly spotted the Crown Prince asleep on the couch, eyes suddenly lighting up in delight.
"Awr!" The baby suddenly cried loudly, letting out a mirthful squeal as she bouncing on her feet, still grabbing at the crib's edges to support herself upright. "Awr! Awr! Awr!"
"Shhhhhh." Lossenel tried again in between chuckles, but it was already too late, the Crown Prince's emerald eyes had already blinked open, his sleep cut way too short.
"You drooled all over my shoulder." Tadion complained almost immediately, that warm teasing smirk never once leaving his face, and she could see Arahaelon throwing a quick glare at his obvious lie.
The baby squealed again, once more gaining everyone's attention bouncing all the more excitedly now at the sight of her awake eldest brother, rising a hand up in the air in a silent command to be picked up.
But Arahaelon only waved at her from the distance, smiling tiredly, not making any attempt to come closer to her. And she wailed again, this time managing to throw the stuffed horse in her brother's direction, only for the toy animal to land at the carpet by the crib. Ann then, almost too adorably, her tiny uncoordinated arms waved in the direction of the fallen toy, wailing loudly for it to be picked up.
Lossenel let out a chorus of song-like laughter rising from her seat and walking towards the crib, stopping to pick up the mangled stuffed horse in the process. But the baby made it clear that it was not Lossenel the one she wanted picking up the toy, her tiny hands pushing away at her sister's larger ones every time she tried to hand her back the toy. Laughing even louder now, the snowy Princess managed to place the stuffed horse inside the crib next to the still wailing baby, turning around and returning to walk towards her seat.
And yet, the baby was having none of it, once again grabbing at the horse by the tail and throwing it out onto the carpet, arms waving for it to be picked up. This time every elf joined Lossenel in the laughter as the baby simply squealed in a command "Awr!"
This time her eldest brother complied, him being the one to rise form the couch and walking over to pick up the fallen toy. The baby's arms waved all the more excitedly, stretching as high as she could get them, asking to be picked up, but Arahaelon merely placed the toy back on the crib, never touching her.
The baby wailed loudly, waving her arms all the more intently, innocent green eyes suddenly heartbreaking as she continued to call and squeal for her retreating brother's attention, not seeming to understand what had changed, why he had not picked her up as he used to. The Crown Prince turned around to face her once more, but did not come any closer, and it was then that she saw it. That smile. The smile that brushed at his eyes without ever really touching them, eyes warm and gentle yet suddenly glazed underneath an impenetrable barrier, unreadable. It was the silent smile she had come to know….the one so different from that one she gave to the rest of his siblings….distant.
So here I leave you the next chapter! I hope you enjoy reading it, sorry if it is a little too long, I felt that cutting parts form it would alter the way in which the story was delivered as a whole so I kept everything. The next chapter has some surprises coming, and it will not be fully memories just like this one is hehe. I'm trying my best to keep the waits between chapter not as long as they have been in the past. So hopefully the next chapter will be up soon.
Once again thank you so much to those of you who reviewed my previous chapter, really I can't tell you how much it means to me that you have taken the time to let me know your opinion on the chapter. As always this chapter is for you! Amsim, Kate, Flower-Uchiha, Teddy 2104, Mary Elrondile, ZabuzasGirl, and my guest reviewer!
An again, this chapter is dedicated to Martine9295, I hope you are having an amazing and wonderful day and that this chapter can help make your day a little brighter :D :D
Love,
Elena