Chapter 5

A twinge in her back Woke Mari in the middle of her night, reminding her of the salve she'd taken from her pack. She opened her eyes, but saw only Iflaím awake by the fire. The other elves lay around her, asleep on their backs. Iflaím prodded the fire with a stick. Within a few moments he threw the stick into the flames and turned to look at her. He said nothing, but smiled warmly.

"What are you doing awake?" He asked her.

She didn't want to tell him about the salve. "I need to relieve myself," she said instead.

"Oh," he said, a little surprised, "Well, the river's that way. Be careful in this dark."

"Thank you," she said, standing up from her mat. She was very discrete about wrapping her shawl around her and hiding the salve in the folds of her skirt. Just as she was about to walk out of the clearing, she saw all the sleeping elves staring straight up into the sky. She let out a soft gasp. Iflaím seemed to know what had startled her.

"Do not worry," he whispered. "It is how we elves sleep."

Quietly, she crept through the woods to the water's edge. She took off her shawl and blouse, then folded them neatly and placed them on the ground beside her. She tried the best she could to clean her back with a cloth she'd also taken from her pack. This was difficult to do, firstly because she couldn't reach her whole back, and secondly because the clasp of her bra was directly over the spot inflicting the most pain. She wasn't about to take off her bra; should she need to escape from something, she wouldn't want to go running off into the woods half naked. Not yet any way, she thought. She smiled to herself. Some of her fondest memories in life were of the days she spent bathing with her sisters in the Garanne River. She smiled fondly to herself as she remembered.

Suddenly, in the middle of the first happy thought she'd had in nearly a week, Mari felt a cool hand on her shoulder. In the blink of an eye she'd leapt up and away from the and and stood facing the body which it belonged to, a dagger in each of her hands. She found herself staring at the last person she had hoped to see.

"What is is you want?" she nearly screamed at him. Her sleepiness and shock some what strangled her voice.

"Shh! You'll wake the others," Legolas said.

"And you wouldn't want that, now would you," Mari retorted sarcastically. "What do you want?" she asked again, this time in a normal toneof voice, but with more force.

"Iflaím woke me to relive him of watch duty. I saw you'd left." The look he'd had before was back. No longer did curiosity and wonder linger in his eyes; they only held contempt for the creature before him. "I came to make sure you hadn't tried to escape. Now, what are you doing here?"

"I...I came to..." She didn't know if she should tell him the truth. On the one hand, she didn't want him to know her weakness. On the other hand, if she didn't say something he would think she had been trying to escape. She couldn't yet judge what he would do if she showed resistance to him. Up until now the elves had been courteous and kind, but was that only because she'd been acting so docile? This brought her to the true possibility of escape. All she need do was turn around and dive into the river. The current was certainly strong enough to carry her away quickly and in the dark they wouldn't be able to find her. This of course was extremely dangerous to attempt; for all she knew there could be a waterfall or rapids half a kilometer ahead. Then there was the fact that she would be utterly lost with no where to go. Not to mention she'd be missing her clothes. Her clothes! Her thoughts stopped when she saw his eyes traveling over her. With a quick intake of breath, she turned around to get her blouse. She grabbed it and clutched it to her chest. Legolas was quicker than she'd anticipated. As soon as she turned her back to him he came up behind her, wrapping one arm around her to hold in place across her chest. With knuckles of his other hand, he pushed hard into the small infected gash in the middle of her back. Myers mouth fell open in a silent scream she had not the energy to give sound to. Her eyes teared and her stomach convulsed in pain.

"Is this what you've been hiding?" he asked in a monotone whisper.

She gripped the knives in her hands tighter when his knuckles didn't move. She couldn't move her arms to use them. He was holding them in place in such a way that the sharp sides were facing her own neck. After a few moments, he let her go all at once. With a gasp she fell into a heap on the floor.

"Why were you hiding this," he asked. She stayed silent, still in pain, still mortified by his presence. She was in too great of a distraught state to care about the knives that had dropped from her hands. "Why were you hiding this?" he asked a second time. Again, she didn't hear him.

Mari felt destroyed. Though the wound was small, she felt as though it covered her whole back; she felt hideous in body and mind. She felt all of her imperfections magnified under the scrutiny of the beautiful elf. As with any woman, her body was sacred to her and there were things to be kept secret about it. Besides that, her family had always warned her never to let any one see the tattoo on her right shoulder blade. Thus far no one outside of her family had seen it, not even her lovers. Her skills of deception had kept it from happening, but now were her hair to move a centimeter all she had promised, all she could possibly be upheld in memory and honor of her family would be lost. She was so afraid. As afraid as she'd been when she first encountered Legolas; he was dangerous and would hurt her.

"Mari," she heard her name called gently, by who she didn't know. It didn't belong to Elrond, Alidar, Iflaím, or any of the other elves at the camp. This soft, comforting voice was new to her. Legolas knelt behind her. I'm kneeling? She couldn't remember her body falling.

He placed his hands on her shoulders as to keep her from moving away. "Mari," said the voice again. It was then she realized the voice belonged to Legolas. He was speaking softly into her ear. "Why were you hiding this?" he asked a third time, only now in the new voice. She heard him this time but still could not find her own voice. All the emotions inside of her burst from inside of her and she began to weep. Still no sound came from her, but tears streamed down her face and her body shook. She was then thrown into a second state of shock by the next thing the elf behind her did.

Legolas lowered his head, resting his forehead against the crown of her own head. He breathed deeply and closed his eyes. Her tears lessened after she felt a strange jolt of energy flow through her. Eventually, her crying subsided, but he didn't move. Mari's own breathing fell in sync with his and her eyes shut as his had. When she felt entirely calm, he moved to take up the jar of salve.

LGLGLGLGLGLG

Legolas' mind had not left the War of the Ring. After what he had been through it would always be with him. Though the battling had ended more than a week ago he was still constantly at battle with himself, torn between his two selves; one self of good and one of darkness. Both exist in every living being. Normally one is dominant over the other. Inside Legolas however, after a course of events that sickened him to remember, both good and evil held equal possession of his heart. Each half of him would grab hold of him for a time and then he would be possessed by the other half of himself. The only thing that remained ever constant was the extreme sorrow that filled his whole being. He acted on impulse now (be it impulsively good or evil). These switches in personality came suddenly. When it happened his emotions would be directed at anyone in his path. Anyone except those those who had been members of the fellowship. And elves. Only in their company could he be sure the good side of him would hold sway.

Mari had been unfortunate enough to have his darker nature directed at her more than once. Her presence seemed to trigger the evil impulses with in him even when he was in the presence of other elves; around her he sensed something he couldn't place, which confused him, and fear followed the confusion, and malice was acted out of fear. Thus, his malice became directed at her. There were two moments, however, when his confusion was followed by curiosity rather than fear. Those his moments of impulsive goodness. The first time had been when she had told her story and the second was now, just after he'd hurt her. In both instances he could see and feel her pain and misery surging through her. It was possible, he believed, that she too could be gripped by the same mind blowing sadness that gripped him, and because of that he felt sympathy for her and was thus overcome by the impulse to help her, be it simply by respectfully listening to her story or attempting to healing her wounds as he was now doing. He was not even deterred in his mission to help her now by the jolt he felt when he touched her. This was the best reasoning he could find in his madness.

Though it was dark, in the moon light he could see with his keen eyes that the cut was not very deep. It had gotten infected, though. He hoped the infection wasn't too terrible that it couldn't wait until morning when Lord Elrond, a true healer of skill, could completely heal it. If Legolas did the best that he could do there was a good chance it wouldn't scar, unlike his own some what fresh wound. It wasn't known that elves could scar but he had, ever reminding him of his ordeal. Again, he tried not to think about it by instead focusing his concentration on Mari. He began to apply the salve but she flinched, and with a small cry she made as if to move away. He held her still with the one hand he'd left on her shoulder.

"I won't hurt you again," he said to her softly, trying to calm her.

"How can I be sure?" she asked.

"You need to trust me."

She stayed silent then. He doubted that she actually would trust him now, but at least she was letting him work. Suddenly something happened that he did not expect and that had never happened before. As he smoothed out the slave over her skin his finger tips began to glow. Where ever his hand went, a golden trail of light was left on her skin. She did not appear to notice because she kept still with her eyes closed. Legolas' eyes grew wider as he saw the honey colored trails fade away, taking with it any traces of the cut that had been there. He was filled with the most wonder he had ever experienced in nearly all of his life. This was a skill possessed only by healing elves; a skill he had never been trained in. Very few elves could heal in such an instinctual way as he just had and those who could usually could do it from the beginning of their life. Never had an elf suddenly gained the ability to heal. Though he didn't know how he was doing it, he didn't stop. He continued tracing the red lines on her back, coating them in the golden glow until they faded away.

When he was through she again made a quick move to get away but he held her back again.

"Wait for the salve to dry before getting dressed," he said to her. "I can help it to dry faster."

She settled down again. He waited to see if she would try to get up again before he began to blow a steady stream of cool air over the spots on her back where he'd spread the salve. As he continued he felt her begin to shiver. Was she cold? Was she afraid? Was she going to start crying again? Fortunately for Legolas, all of the salve dried without her acting up.

"Go straight back to camp and get some sleep," he said once he'd finished.

Before the sentence had fully left his mouth her clothes were back on and she was sprinting back to the camp. Legolas stayed on his knees staring at his hands in disbelief. They were still glowing and had only now begun to dim to his normal elvish glow. Nothing grew clearer to him as he kept turning his hands over, looking at his palms then at the back of his hands. All he knew was that he felt more empty now than he had felt more empty now that the healing process was over and Mari was gone. Rather, he did not feel empty at all but instead he felt even sadder than before. Tears began to fall onto his hands on which his gaze was transfixed.

He brought his hand to his face, wiping the tears, and then looking at them in slightly less disbelief than he'd felt earlier. With glistening eyes, he changed his gaze to the nearly half moon. The great sadness he felt was now accompanied by a great longing. A longing for...Well, he didn't know.

"After nearly seven hundred years of life you still don't know anything," he said to himself.

LGLGLGLGLGLG

Mari sped back to the camp as fast as her legs could carry her, this task being made thrice as hard by the darkness, the stones and roots that randomly jutted into the path, and the fact that she didn't want to wake any of the other elves. When she returned she found them all still asleep, eyes wide and staring heavenward. The flame of the fire had shrunk substantially since she'd left. Though it was summer, it was still rather cold, and as she lay on her fleece (her back to the path so that she wouldn't have to look at Legolas when he returned) she curled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her shawl around her body as tightly as she could. It helped a little in the absence of the fire.

There was no way she would ever be able to fall asleep. Her body was certainly tired enough to do so, but the combination of the cold and what had just happened kept her mind awake. What just happened? she asked herself. As bizarre as the whole incident was, she still managed to learn from it. She now knew that she could fully trust the other elves to help her since Legolas had been worried she would wake them and he would be discovered, but also she learned that it didn't really matter to him because in the end he attacked her anyhow. There was also the act of his healing to consider. He had done an excellent job at it, too. She could feel no pain in her back.

In her head the events that had just happened played over and over and over along with the emotions she had felt through out; fear, terror, pain, sadness, emptiness, and then the calm, warmth, the sensation of being completely surrounded, filled, and safe. She divided the time spent with him into two parts, the first being filled with his cruelty and the second filled with his kindness. During each part it seemed as if she were with an entirely different elf; as though Legolas had two completely different persons living inside of him. All those thought were beginning to give Mari a headache. It all contradicted itself. He contradicted himself. She could make sense of nothing.

She didn't hear him come, however she did feel his return. There was a new air about him that made his presence strange to her. She wasn't quite sure if she liked the sudden change. Up until a few minutes ago she had been very terrified of him, but at least she knew and had a feel for who he was. Now she had to start over, reevaluating his tactics and calculating his actions. She could tell he'd added some fuel to the fire because she grew warmer.

His kindness didn't make her trust him any more than before. If anything, she thought it to be a ploy and entirely false. In that case he was an exquisite actor. Still, she reasoned, she'd humor him and pretend to believe his act, but only to study him further.

The warmth of the fire was now lulling her to sleep. The last thought she formed was the wonderment of something that had completely escaped her mind: when would they arrive in Gondor?