Now, see, didn't I tell you I'd have an update rather soon?
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March, Year 3018 of the Third Age
I had not attended Malian's funeral, which had taken place a few weeks' prior to the start of March. It had now been a month since his death, but I refused to dwell upon it. Mirkwood could not bear the excess of mourners; Malian had not been the only one to die in the battle, or since the beginning of Year 3018. I had convinced myself that Malian would not have wanted me to live the rest of my life missing him, though I had to admit I would, of course, but I would keep it in the back of my mind. I would not wear it on my shoulder. Mirkwood needed me now more than ever. It needed us all.
After the battle that claimed Malian's life, Legolas yielded to my demands and let me back on patrol. I suspect Thranduil had much to do with this, especially since Legolas refused to tell me himself. Actually, Legolas had not said much to me in the last month. He had not said much to anyone. In fact, I was hard pressed to remember the last time I had seen him, and I wanted to hit him for it. If Malian's death could teach us anything it would be that life is short and that one should always be there for the ones they love. Legolas was feeling guilty because he had not said one word to Malian in years, save something nasty. Now that I was back on patrol, I figured Legolas would learn this lesson and perhaps be a little too clingy: making sure I was shooting my best, and double checking that I had all the protection I could, and at least saying "good luck" or "see you later" when I would part for my duties. But Legolas had been a no-show in my life for a while.
Since that night, that night he had confessed whatever feelings he thought he had for me, I had not slept in the same room with anyone but myself. The nightmares still haunted me when I was not awake, but I had learned to deal with them. When I woke up, I would only remember snippets of what I had seen, but I had always woken up nauseous and uncomfortable, worried. With circumstances as they were, worried was not an unusual sentiment, but I always felt like I was worried for people I had never met. I usually ignored the feeling and concentrated on sleeping through the dreams and not letting them exhaust me to the point where I could not perform my best during patrol.
I had continued to see Féoras, and while he was not exactly the cheeky sort that could always cheer me up with a joke or an inappropriate hand gesture, he had become my rock. He let me rant and rave like I had taken to, but at the end of it all he would stand and hug me, reassuring me that everything would be alright. If it were not for Féoras, I am not quite sure I would still be anywhere near sane.
I leaned against a tree eyeing the darkness that engulfed the wood. The mist that had descended upon us no longer lifted, and I could feel the beads of sweat form on my skin. The woods felt warm for such a time of year. The fog entered my throat, drying it; it created an arid film over my eyes. The only thing the mist could not affect was my hearing, and though I closed my eyes for long periods of time, my keen sense of sound kept me alert.
A rustle came from my right and my eyes rushed open. I nocked an arrow in my bow without a sound, taking a silent step in the direction of the noise. I was barely breathing and struggling to see through the dense layer of fog. Another rustle. I stopped, pleading my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Rustle. I prepared to send an arrow flying with or without the use of my eyes—
"Varda damn it!" came an unpleasant whisper as soon as I had loosed my arrow. I heard it whiz so close to something that I guessed it almost hit the intruder somewhere in the right side of his face. "Who is it?" the voice asked harshly.
"Ilúvatar, you must be joking," I whispered back. "A sleeping Dwarf could have heard the noise you just made!" The Elf took another step toward me, and I saw his outline against the moonlight that barely streamed through a tree over his head. The moon made his hair seem white as snow, and I saw a flicker of yellow eyes I thought I recognized. "The moon plays too many tricks," I continued to whisper to him. "Don't make me shoot another arrow at you, and this time I won't miss."
"Laina?" Ah.
"Varda damn it, Leaf," I sighed, thinking of shooting another arrow at him anyway. "I could have killed you!"
"Mmm," he responded, deadpan, almost as if that fate did not seem too horrible to him.
"You know what? Maybe I will. Stay still, I need more target practice in the dark," I replied quickly, nocking another arrow in my bow. Legolas stood there without moving, alarm not even beginning on his face. I raised an eyebrow that I am sure he did not miss. "Don't think I'll do it, do you?" I added.
"Be serious, Laina," he responded, not even looking at me, but past me, into the woods. It took most of my self-control to stop from flicking his nose for being so high-and-mighty. He was not himself.
"Fine," I surrendered after a moment's hesitation, lowering my bow and glancing around. "See you later, I suppose." Legolas nodded and I turned to walk away, expecting him to stop me with a grab of my wrist.
After I had taken five steps, I turned my head to see if he was watching me as I walked away, but he had disappeared without another sound. An intense feeling of disappointment flooded my veins like poison, and I had to support myself on a tree to keep from falling to the ground. My legs were a little weak. What was wrong with me?
The next day dawned as every day did, gloomy and without much word from the world outside of Mirkwood. I still felt a little sick from the night spent patrolling, and decided to get someone to fulfill my duties for me that evening. Memories of the way things once were swamped my thoughts. Where was Aragorn? He had only left two months before, but the word he should have been sending was one of utmost importance. I wondered what adventures he was encountering while he traveled to save this life-threatening Ring of Power. A strange feeling tugged at my heart like a tiny piece of time telling me that soon, the whole world would be in motion. Soon, everyone would be needed. Soon, the fate of Middle-earth would be decided. I felt a chill run from my head down to my arms like someone had poured cold honey on my head that dripped slowly to my fingertips. Nothing was right anymore.
"You look saddened, milady," the voice of Féoras said. When I engaged my surroundings, I found myself in a courtyard of the palace that I had only been through a few times in my stay in Mirkwood. There were stone statues of Elven kings carved into the walls and the yellow and white flowers bloomed as if in ignorance of the foul air that engulfed them. Féoras was seated on a stone bench that lined the walkway through the courtyard. He had a grim smile on his strong, pale face. His sawdust-colored hair had even lost a little of its luster since the beginning of it all.
I sighed, forcing one foot in front of the other, making my way to sit down next to him. He took my trembling hand in his as I sat, and pulled my head onto his shoulder.
"Féoras, I feel as if this war will never end," I whispered.
"It is not yet a war, Laina. This is only the beginning." As if that were very comforting. I wanted to flick his nose, but the gesture was something I had taken to reserving for extreme moments of idiocy. The time never seemed to call for lightheartedness anymore.
"Thanks," I nevertheless responded sarcastically. It was all I could do to stop from despairing. Féoras chuckled slightly and I felt his strong shoulder beneath my head shake.
"We will live to see the end of it," he assured me.
"But what will the end bring?" I countered, eyeing my lap and trying to keep my mind off the fact that no one could know the answer to the daunting question at hand.
"We can only take it a day at a time. I know that is not as comforting an answer as one would wish, but it is the only way to live right now," he finished. I sighed again as he squeezed my hand. I wanted nothing more than to close my eyes hard and have it all be over. I wanted no part in this war. I imagined what Aragorn would think if I had said that out loud; he would probably tell me that the world was doomed without everyone's participation, without unity. As if the world of Elves would ever sacrifice themselves for Men. It was a dream.
I'm not sure how long Féoras and I sat in the courtyard contemplating the war that lay before us all. However, the quiet was interrupted by a gentle voice, singing cheerless Elvish words almost inaudibly. The Elf in question came into sight momentarily, and I looked up at him as if he were someone I did not recognize. And he wasn't. I thought that might have been the saddest moment of my life.
Legolas nodded his regal head in our direction as he passed by, and I could tell he was completely unaware of who I was. Had he let himself grieve at all? It had seemed like he simply let his head take over. Everything he did was stiff and lifeless; nothing was emotion-driven as it would have been with the Legolas I knew so well. The sight was so disgusting that I decided I could not stand for it any longer. I loosened my hand from Féoras' and stood up, jogging after Legolas.
As I caught up with him, the song stopped and I saw nothing but a blank stare in his honey brown eyes, the same eyes I was so used to seeing brimming with laughter or anger, but never, ever empty. I was unsure of what to do, so I did the first thing that came to mind: I grabbed his arm forcefully.
If I had been an Orc I would have been dead before I realized I was alive. Legolas released his arm from my grasp and grabbed mine so fast even my sharp Elven eyes could not see the movement. He would have flipped me over his back and pinned me down with crushing force if I had not yelped in momentary pain. As quickly as the action had occurred, it was over, and Legolas released my arm with trepidation, eyes wide.
"What on Middle-earth were you thinking, Laina?" Legolas yelled after an instant, adding a few other colorful words almost under his breath. "I could have killed you!" For a second I saw in his eyes the same anger and concern that Legolas was so often overcome with when he thought of me in danger, but as soon as I had seen it, it subsided as if it had never appeared. I raised one eyebrow at him, pausing for a moment, trying to hide the trembling of my hand.
"Oh I was letting you do that," I quipped as quickly as the words would come to my mouth as he began walking away again. I hurried to catch up to him and grabbed his arm another time. He wrenched it out of my fingers.
"Ilúvatar!" Legolas swore. "What do you want?" His face was red and his eyes blazed with rage and cooled immediately.
"I see you in there," I said softly, placing a hand on his arm once more. This time he did not jerk away, but stood at the entrance to the courtyard, staring at me with those expressionless eyes. "Oh Legolas," I whispered, taking a step closer to him. He took a quick step backward. "Why are you doing that?" I protested, almost whining.
"I don't want to be near anyone," Legolas said with a sort of finality as if the sentence closed the conversation, but I had other plans.
"What does that mean?" I asked indignantly, crossing my arms and tapping one foot in annoyance. Maybe my nagging would bring him back to himself.
"It means I don't want to be close to anyone," he stated again in a monotone as his eyes glazed over, blank. As if an arrow had just struck my heart, the meaning dawned on me.
"You mean you don't want to care about anyone because they might die?" I had pushed the right button. Varda, I was good at Legolas-talk. Once again I saw an angry flash in his eyes as if he might respond with the same force he would have only months ago, but he said nothing and instead clenched his jaw. I saw the muscles in his face freezing and grinding as he tried to hold back what he wanted to say. "Leaf, damn it, people get hurt. People get killed. Malian would not have wanted you to live your life without caring about people who matter! Malian would have wanted you to fight for the things you believe in, he would have wanted you to move on and keep his memory with you and smile! What do you think he would say if he were here right now and he saw you acting this way?" I was nearly screaming at him and I could feel my face turning redder with every word that slipped off my tongue and hung in the air between us. Legolas, however, had let every word sink in as fast as he could hear them; it was as if he were drinking in the words like he had not had water in days. He was ready.
"WELL HE ISN'T HERE RIGHT NOW, IS HE?" His voice rang out so loudly that I thought every Orc in Mordor could hear it. I would not have been surprised if Sauron himself had heard the words, clearly, resolutely, deadly. For more than a moment, the emotion flooded back into Legolas' white face and darkened his eyes menacingly. I felt like I could have shrunk in his gaze like a spurned dog, but I refused to back down. I was finally breaking through the wall he had erected in Malian's stead. I was going in swinging and I would leave no brick untouched.
"He's always here, Leaf," I said finally after I had found my voice. It sounded pale in comparison to the deafening ringing of his own which still echoed about us. Legolas' eyes flashed again as if he meant to interrupt, but I had my foot in the door and would not allow it to shut in my face. I continued. "He's in the flowers and the trees, he's in the sky and the grass…" The words were escaping my mouth and with every word spoke, I felt another small weight lifted off of me. These words were true. They were not just for Legolas, but for myself. My voice was rising in a terrible crescendo. "He's in the stone and the faces of every Elf in Mirkwood! He is here and he wants us to carry on, to win this war for the sake of the people we care about, for the sake of the people he cared about—us. Legolas, can't you see him? Can't you feel him?" I felt hot tears flood my eyes and melt my cheeks. I wiped them away indignantly and threw my hands in the air. "He is here!" I insisted at the top of my lungs as I lifted my face to the sky and spun around, almost laughing with realization. I must have looked insane to any outsider, but through the words I was also allowing myself to feel something. I had moved on so quickly from Malian's death in the face of evil that had descended on Mirkwood that I had not grieved either. Legolas was eyeing me wildly as if contemplating my words. He glanced from the flowers to the sky with a fierce gaze, swallowing hard as his eyes met mine again.
We stood there for a while, Legolas and I, staring at each other. Tears were now freely rolling down my cheeks, but I did not bother to wipe them off. Legolas' face was growing from angry to sad to happy to concerned so fast that I was unable to discern the emotions in between. After what seemed like a lifetime of staring at each other, feeling emotions we had not allowed ourselves to feel, Legolas finally took a leap toward me and wrapped his arms around my waist, hoisting me off my feet and spinning around. His golden hair flew behind him as he laughed and I cried. Nothing felt like his arms did around me. Nothing felt like our hearts beating in rhythm, so close to each other, pressed against each other, sharing emotions. Dizzy, Legolas set me down and we both fell backwards onto the grass. I noticed for a fleeting second that Féoras had disappeared from the courtyard, and Legolas and I were alone.
Our breathing was erratic but unified, fast and slow, audible and inaudible. We finally turned over to face each other and Legolas put a hand on my cheek and looked at me. He was back. It felt like someone returning from the dead.
"Laina, I'm so sorry…" he began, but I cut him off with a roll of my eyes and a small smile.
"Just don't ever do that again," I responded, too relieved to be angry. After everything that happened, I had forgotten about the way Legolas had told me he felt, and it seemed as if he had forgotten as well. We were both so happy just to be ourselves again that we forgot about everything else. Well, almost everything else.
"What is going to happen?" Legolas asked me seriously, putting his strong hand behind my back and pulling me into a hug. I felt one side of my face pressed against the warm grass and the other side pressed against Legolas' pulsing neck. His voice sounded deep and hoarse as he talked. I did not bother to answer the question. Fate would decide what we would have to face in the year to come.