New Dawn

Chapter 34

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L U M O R N E L

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I was nothing, no one, simply a thing or wisp in a state of not there. But something kept building. It prodded at my mind, an annoying fly that wouldn't stop buzzing. It was incessant, it was terrible, it was the feeling of standing on the precipice of a great cliff, the long fall stretching before you with a slightly too reckless wind at your back—what was that awful feeling?

Suddenly, I was snapped back into my chair—there—gripping the already cracked arms. The splintered wood felt rough and smooth all at once and the damp air felt clammy and hot and at the same time cool and—

And I was near hyperventilating.

That feeling was anxiety. It was only anxiety.

I held my breath; took all my building fear and panic and held onto it with a tight fist and crammed it all into that held breath. My lungs burned. Then, I exhaled and, with each expire, a little more of that awful feeling dissipated until only a light tingling remained in my fingers, a flighty air in my stomach.

I leaned against the table, head in hands, fingers through hair, greeted with a fantastic view of the wooden slab. Breathe in. Breathe out.

Allowing my eyes to close, I relaxed. Or tried to. But I wasn't hyperventilating. Sure, I was sweating, but... not hyperventilating.

Another breath exited me with a stuttering shudder.

Where is Legolas?

As if I had summoned him, the door squeaked open.

I looked up and— I was surprised to see Kaylessa and the Queen in the same room as me, though I shouldn't have been. And then, I met eyes with Legolas. He hardly acknowledged me before turning towards the Queen, body already rigid, as if he knew—

And he froze, face paling into a hard mask of... shock, disbelief, confusion. The force of it sent him stumbling a moment later, gripping onto the back of Kaylessa's chair so hard, it seemed as if he were holding himself up.

Nervously, I stood and warily set a hand on his arm. Legolas didn't respond to the touch. What was going on in that head of his? I shot a glance at Aragorn, who had come to stand on Legolas's other side, a few feet away.

The Queen gracefully rose from her chair with all the care of someone who was trying not to frighten a young deer.

"Ionneg?" Ellelôtë whispered, wide eyes brimming with tears. She hadn't seen her son in over a thousand years... in fact, last time she had seen him, he'd still been an elfling who hadn't yet held his first sword. How different he must be to her.

The unfamiliarity was her own fault.

Legolas forced his eyes shut, forcing himself to breathe deeply. And... he gazed towards her again. And his mother still stood there, anxiously watching with those beautiful blue eyes. That hard, rigid mask of his melted.

In an instant, Legolas had strode those few steps and he engulfed his mother in a hug. Though he stood several finger-widths taller than her, he somehow managed, with all that muscle and hardened warrior's build, to look like an elfling in his mother's arms. A boy, clinging to his mother.

Suddenly, I had to choke back a sob, feeling the need to rush from the room but... I plopped down in my chair, watching as the Queen held her son, stroking his hair, Legolas almost trembling as he held onto his mother. I angrily wiped away the hot tears and looked away, biting my cheek to keep more at bay.