I do not sleep.
Aragorn stays for awhile. We share a drink and we talk, but of superficial things. The settlements' provisions for winter, his most recent problem with the nobles in Minas Tirith, and Eldarion's latest escapade. It is easy to talk of Eldarion for we both love him. We speak no more about Maewen.
I know what he does. He tries to steer us towards calm waters to help us find a path back to each other. Neither of us wants controversy.
But eventually he goes and I am alone.
Maewen told me she loved me, that she stayed away only because of Aragorn. That she wished nothing to jeopardise my reunion with him. But now we are reunited. Now I have spoken to him, shared a drink with him, laughed with him, discovered him again.
But still she does not come. She does not come even to see if all went well.
The night is long and my rooms are cold and empty without her. It gives me time to think.
Time to think of all the moments she has looked at me and found me lacking—not enough. I used to be her sun, the centre of her universe. She used to uplift me with her love. But now she can only find fault. My choices are bad ones, my friends are no good, I do not think of her often enough, I live in the wrong place, see the wrong people, do the wrong things.
Feel the wrong feelings.
As much as I love her, as much as I need her, I have to face facts, there is nothing left. Not for her. She no longer loves the Legolas I am . . . Only the Legolas I was.
And so when morning comes I have a heavy heart indeed.
Aragorn and Gimli are already in the hall when I arrive for breakfast. They sit, heads together discussing . . . Something. I cannot hear them for their voices are low and there is a cacophony of Wood-elves here but I can see Aragorn's face. His mouth is set in a firm line and his eyes are serious. Whatever they discuss it is not pleasant: It is probably me.
As I make to move towards them the gentle hand upon my arm surprises me. Of course it is Maewen, but where was she? Where was she last night?
"Maewen." I know my voice is cool towards her but I am hurting, she has hurt me.
"Legolas," she says and I love the sound of her voice. It is music and light and all things joyful. I love the way she says my name as if it was a prayer. I will never tire of hearing it.
"You look tired." She lifts her hand and softly brushes the back of it down my cheek. Her eyes are full of concern. It is a gesture of love and it breaks me. The walls that keep all my grief and sorrow locked up inside are cracking under the weight of it. The only way to protect myself is to attack.
"Where were you last night?"
"What do you mean?" She screws her face up in confusion. "You were with Elessar."
"I was not with him all night!"
"We spoke about this" she says slowly, " We discussed that I would stay away, we would give each other space, so difficulties between us would not cause problems with your reunion."
"We did not discuss it. You decided it, and we both know it is a lie Maewen," I bite back. "The truth of it is you use Aragorn as an excuse. You do not wish to be with me because there is nothing left about me you can love. Admit it. Stop tormenting me with pretence."
"That is not the truth," she gasps, her eyes wide with horror. "Tell me you do not believe that!"
"What choice do I have?" Turn my back on her then and walk away, towards my friends, towards the ones who do love me for who I am. "You hate everything about me." I toss back over my shoulder at her as I go. That conversation is at an end.
I am such a turmoil of emotion by the time I sit myself down between Aragorn and Gimli it is a struggle to maintain my equilibrium but I must. I will not allow myself to lose control and damage the fragile peace Aragorn and I achieved last night. I will not! But it is as if I have a raging sea of heartbreak inside me and it pounds me into oblivion.
"Legolas?"
It is Aragorn's hand on my arm that rescues me from drowning. He has been speaking and I have not even heard him. He looks at me with a furrow of concern on his brow.
"Sorry," I say, for I have no clue what he has just said. "I was thinking on something." I notice then Erynion has joined us. His face is tense and strained, anxious. He is not happy about something.
"I was thinking we need to speak on the Haradrim." Aragorn repeats himself. "There must be a better solution to these raids and the risk they pose your people. I would like to see where the last attack occured. Would you take me?"
My blood runs cold.
A wave of nausea engulfs me for I cannot go there. I feel suddenly and terribly sick.
"I can show you—" my voice sounds numb to my ears, "I have maps. . . It is all outlined there."
He leans forward intently then,
"I would like to see them too but visiting the area would be helpful for me I think."
Out of the corner of my eye I see Maewen, hovering on the edge of our group. She has heard Aragorn's words and I can feel her tension. She is awash with it. Tension for the sake of me.
Eyrnion jumps in then before I can say anything further.
"I will take you, Elessar, for I was there. I would be happy to."
He simply wishes to protect me. A part of me knows that. He will be well aware how difficult returning to the place of Taenor's death will be and he hopes to shield me. But something about his eagerness to jump in, as if I am not fit, rankles. I am filled with resentment, for why does he attempt to undermine me in front of my friends? Perhaps he worries the darkness will claim me again, but it will not!
And so my next words are perhaps not the most sensible, driven, as they are, by anger not commonsense.
"There is no need for that, Erynion." It is in my most imperious voice that I speak. "I will go and I need you to remain here to watch over the settlement." The look in his eyes could only be described as horror and I turn away so I do not have to see it. He has no trust in my ability to do this at all.
To tell the truth I have no faith in myself but it is said now and I will get it over with.
"We can go soonest." I pull myself to my feet before my nerves fail me. "I need to gather my papers for you, my information but I will meet you at the horses. Gimli, you will come with us?" I need Gimli to go. His solidness will keep me upright.
"Of course lad, but perhaps tomorrow. . . "
"No, now. Now is the best time." I cannot wait. I have to do this while I have momentum else it will never happen and Erynion will be proved right to doubt.
Perhaps he is right to doubt.
"Legolas!" he calls after me as I stride away and there is desperation in his voice but I do not turn, I simply wave my hand so he knows I have heard him.
It is only when I reach my room I realise what it is I have agreed to. I cannot go there.
The fear as I think on it rises up and chokes me. It is an all-consuming beast that claws at my heart and I am left gasping. I cannot not breathe, I cannot breathe for it strangles me. And so I lean on my desk to keep myself upright as my heart pounds so fast it will surely break, my hands will not keep still, they shake like a child's and I struggle for breath against the panic that swamps me.
Then suddenly she is there. Her arms surround me, her head rests on my shoulder, her voice is in my ear.
"It is alright," she whispers. "It is alright," and that is all she says but she envelops me with her peace and calm and love.
And I can breathe again.
"I cannot do this," I say when I trust myself to speak. "I cannot do this Maewen."
"You can." She does not move, she does not leave, she does not pull back. "You can do it Legolas and I will be with you. I know you can return there. You have stood before the Black Gates and faced your own death. You can do this."
"The Black Gates were easier," I reply and right at this moment I really think they were.
We stand then, together, her arms still around me, her love still encompassing me and it is so good. We are on the same page, she has my back as she has always done and I can almost believe things can be right between us again.
"Tell me you don't believe it Legolas," she whispers in my ear. "Tell me you did not mean what you said before. How can you not know I love you?"
And my moment of peace shatters.
I turn to look at her. Her solemn eyes cut through me and the words choke me.
"How can you think I know it, when you reject me?"
"I do not!" She cries and I wonder that she cannot see it, she cannot see what she does to me.
"I am sorry I am not the Legolas you fell in love with but he is gone and I cannot get him back. But everytime you reject my friends, my life, the sealonging. . . you reject me. Every time it hurts Maewen. And if you detest those pieces of me so much, how can you love the whole?"
She says nothing, simply stares and I watch as a single tear rolls down her cheek. What I have to say next is, I think the hardest thing I have ever said, but it is time. I must do this. I am too tired to carry on.
"I release you, Maewen. I love you too much to see you shackled to someone you can no longer love. Whatever vows we have made, I release you from them." And I turn away, back to my desk to shuffle papers randomly. Anything, so I do not have to look at her.
At first there is not a sound and she does not move. A heavy weight of silence descends upon us, pressing me down, crushing the life out of me. Will she not just accept my offer and leave? Does she have to draw this agony out.
When she finally speaks it is a relief just to hear her voice, even though I may never hear it say my name with love again.
"That is not your choice to make, Legolas." She says firmly, as if she is angry. "You cannot release me because I will not go."
And for a moment I do not understand her.
Her hand falls on my shoulder then as I stare stoically at the papers that litter my desk.
"Look at me, Legolas. You owe me that courtesy at least."
And when I do turn around she is crying. It hurts my heart more than anything else because I do not like to make her cry. I can count on one hand how many times that has happened all through our many years together. When I left for Imladris was one. Perhaps she knew then it was then end of us?
"You have not changed." She says and I rage inside. Why will she not accept this. What is it she wants from me? I cannot be who she wants any longer.
But then she moves forward, places her hand upon my chest where the heat of it burns through my tunic, and tilts her head to look up at me through her tears.
"The boy who was open and friendly and curious, the one who loved to spend time with the Lakemen, who could not know enough about them—that is the Legolas I love and he is still here. He is the one who seeks out mortal friends, and draws them to himself like moths to a flame. The young man who yearned for adventure, who chaffed against the restriction of our woods, who burned with excitement at the prospect of seeing Imladris—I always loved him and that is the Legolas who has lead us here to new lands. You would have left the wood, Legolas, war or no war, sealonging or not. I knew that and I loved it and I dreamed to go with you. I still love that, all of it. Your openness and your love for adventure. You have not changed. I just forgot what it was I loved. I forgot myself and I am sorry."
I do not know what to say.
"I know I have scarred you." She continues, "I can only hope it will heal, that you will give me a second chance. I was afraid, Legolas. For all my dreams of escape and adventure. For all that I thought I was courageous and strong, I was afraid. But I still loved you and I would not have things any different."
Standing before me she looks fragile and delicate in a way I am not used to my Maewen looking and I am consumed by the need to protect her, to hold her, to wipe away her tears and this is not how I imagined it would be. Not at all.
"Can you still love me?" She asks, "Can we start again?"
And it is then I hold her close.
"I pushed you too hard, too fast and I did not wait for you. Maewen, you are not alone with fault here."
And I realise it is true. I returned from the war, the sealonging roaring in my ears and I rushed into my next adventure. I embraced it all but I gave her no time to adjust, no time to catch up, no time to be a part of my planning rather than a pawn buffeted by my storm.
"Of course we can start again," I murmur into her hair as her head rests against my chest. " Of course I still love you. I never stopped."