Part 1: Flee of the Fallen
Chapter 4: Beyond Middle Earth
Legolas' vision wavered as the light enveloped him. The reassuring glow of the forest and the mysterious white tree began to fade, and he felt himself descending into unconsciousness. Just before everything went black, shadows started to appear, faint and flickering, like those shadow puppetry shows at the Greenwood market during the Festival of Lights each year for elflings.
His mother's silhouette stood beside his grandfather's tall shadow, gentle and nurturing as she caressed the long hair of another elleth.
"Tauriel?" Legolas whispered, not believing his eyes. His sister's shadow smiled and nodded, putting her lithe arm around a much shorter silhouette lovingly, which could only be Kili, her betrothed.
Then the specters began to shimmer and slowly vanish.
"Please, don't leave me!" Legolas pleaded, reaching out to the shadows, only to find them quickly dissolving into nothing like the lingering mist on those rare occasions when the dense forest allowed the entrance of sunlight.
Emerging from the shadows, the entity exuded an aura of awe and comfort. It stood tall and majestic, radiating a brilliance that seemed to come from within. This being had an ethereal presence, a guardian of immense power and benevolence, whose very essence filled the air with a sense of divine purpose. And Legolas knew only one being that could have such a divine presence: "Valar?"
"Legolas Greenleaf," the being spoke, its voice resonating with power and kindness. "Your journey continues in Middle-earth. Here, you must embrace your destiny as one of the guardians of the forest, just as you have always been."
"Hold on." His hand yearned to touch the radiant presence. Instead, he felt himself gently lifted, borne aloft by an unseen force that enveloped him in warmth and familiarity, reminiscent of his home forest, unfolding like a dream.
Legolas let out a grunt, not caring if it sounded so ungraceful and unlike the elven prince he is to the trees around him, as they could understand everything, and tried to sit up.
Speaking of which...
Why is he on the forest floor in the first place?
Groaning, Legolas sat up, clutching his head as a dull ache throbbed through his temples, a reminder of the spirit tree's power. His vision blurred momentarily as he tried to steady himself, the remnants of the intense experience swirling in his mind. His mind reeled as he realized that he had just communicated with the Valar through this mysterious tree. The divine had spoken to him. He had seen his family, felt the comfort of their presence, as well as the longing for reunion, as if mere echoes from a cherished dream. If it was all a dream, it must have been the best he had in the past thousand years; it had filled something in him, a newfound sense of resolve. But at the same time, the dream had left him with an even stronger ache in his heart. He remembered the despair in his voice when he cried out for the embrace of his family and how he had shattered into pieces when the silhouettes slipped away. The words of the Valar must mean something, at least.
Something snorted behind him.
Legolas was instantly on his guard, an arrow notched on his bow as he gracefully spun around and aimed.
He stilled.
A hand emerged from the bush.
His gaze fell upon the hand. It was a striking blue, the skin smooth and gleaming with vitality. Strange, delicate markings meandered along the graceful contours, glowing faintly with a soft, ethereal light. The markings were intricate, resembling the fine lines of a masterful painting, each one intertwining with the next in a harmonious dance, as the inner light shone almost seemed magical. As Legolas observed, these patterns were not just random; they seemed to follow the natural lines and curves of her hand.
Her.
Legolas had subconsciously labeled the creature as female.
The hand was slender yet exuded a quiet strength like those of a deadly weapon yet elegant weapon crafted by the Eldars, the long fingers rested upon the leaves of the bush. Around her wrist rested a bracelet of breathtaking craftsmanship, made from intertwined vines and adorned with tiny, luminescent stones that he thought could only be found in the river of the Valar. The bracelet sparkled faintly, mirroring the trails of starlight on this other-worldly hand. He could see the veins faintly beneath the surface of her skin, accentuating her vitality and the intricate biological design of her species. The sight of her hand, so different from his own yet undeniably beautiful, left him momentarily spellbound by the unparalleled beauty.
His breath caught in his throat as he hesitantly took a step and stretched out his own hand to touch this manifestation of nature.
"Prince Legolas!" A voice called, far away from his current pose.
Legolas snapped out of the trance, jumping away from the hand as if burnt. Turning away from the small clearing as he took one last glance at the ethereal white tree, he stalked away.
He blinked.
The hand had disappeared.
Had it all been a dream for his longing heart?
But he knew one thing for sure, this hand does not belong to any creature of Middle-earth.