The rest of the walk was in a death-like silence. The only thing Legolas said was, "Keep your bow ready."
I nodded mutely, striding through the ruins and the oppressive gloom.
I stopped, and he quickly turned to look at me.
"Legolas, why are we still here?" I sighed. "I relayed what I needed to tell you."
"Why waste a good trip?" he said with a dry smile.
"Yes, what a good trip," I said sarcastically. "Look at all the happiness surrounding us."
"Do not jest of such things," Legolas said. "You know that there is someone we cannot trust if we return. We must first look for the scroll and tell no one."
"What of Maldor and Faewyn?" I asked.
"They already know what we are looking for but do not mention it anew," he warned. "I have seen the corruption of the smallest of influences from Sauron and I will not underestimate him again."
Again?
"There is nothing here," I said tentatively, emerging into a sandy clearing strewn with more incessant piles of hideous black rock.
"Not above ground," Legolas said.
As if on cue, we stopped at the edge of a jagged cliff which looked into a steep, echoing hole that reeked of filth.
"Here," Legolas said grimly.
"It looks positively entrancing," I said depressingly.
Legolas looked over. "Never dull, though," he said. A wry smile brushed across his features for a moment before resigning back to his focused, if unemotional, general expression.
He then turned to me, with sudden realisation. "Gianna, how do you know you still have the blessing of both Lorien and Estë?"
He hesitated slightly, as if asking for permission.
I wondered if that was even necessary anymore.
"Well," I said breezily. "You can stab me, or we can wait to see if someone else stabs me."
His stare darkened. "I would not lay a finger on you," he said. "Clearly you have heard my confession multiple times. Would you like me to continue affirming it as such?"
Of course, by now both of us knew he wasn't talking about me theoretically getting stabbed.
"You mustn't--Legolas, don't you think I know?" I said finally. "You...you knew how I felt that night. It was as much fault of mine as yours."
"Not so," Legolas countered, determinedly avoiding my gaze. "I apologise for the poor manners offered by a Prince to a Lady."
"Which 'poor manners'?" I asked exasperatedly. "And I am not a lady."
"To me you are," he said courteously, inclining his head in my general direction. He turned to look at me, finally, so many words in his steely glance alone that I blinked.
"I knew it would affect you," he said, in what only could be described as a reluctant whisper. "I did not know how much. But I saw, in your expression... something I did not see all the other occasions I met with you. Gianna, I took advantage of you, I should have controlled myself. It is absolutely appalling that my conduct was so rogue."
Incredulous, I turned to him. "Legolas--"
"Do you ever wonder, wonder why I stop myself from even looking at you?" he asked bitterly.
"Not particularly," I replied.
Again, with sarcasm, always hiding behind a wall of it. He couldn't see how my insides quivered at the memory of his touch or how I yearned simply to talk at length as we used to, frivolous chatter, just to pass the time.
And I thought it was me not doing the looking.
"My father used to tell me, after Naneth passed on, that kings never let the people know what they felt. Because a king must first govern with his head, then his heart. He would say, 'Ion-nin, what do you think would happen if a young deer was caught in a trap, with orcs were closing in on all sides of our soldiers, leaving them with nowhere to go. Could we save the deer? Even if we knew it was the right thing, many, many more would die.'"
I smiled at the thought. Ridiculous, smiling at the feet of this yawning abyss, but for a moment, sweet memories of the starry sky and whispering leaves of Greenwood took over my senses.
"Ridiculous," Legolas said softly, echoing my thoughts. "But I was still young, not yet an heir. Do not think that it is easy for me to continue to rule with my head, not my heart, Gianna, for as you know, it is rare the two are not intertwined. I choose not to because I cannot."
"What?"
"Tie you to something you can never have," he said. The deep sadness I sometimes saw in his eyes sat in his gaze, crystallising it, until the shards forced me to look at him.
Him. He wanted to save me from himself.
"You." I said, not daring to look away, hardly daring to breathe as it was.
"Mayhap my thoughts are selfish," he breathed. "But when you leave..."
I cut him off.
"Legolas, stop--"
"When you have fulfilled your purpose here, I will--"
"Don't--"
"-- never see you again," he finished. "This cannot be."
I knew he was right. I knew why I had tried, tried not to succumb to the feelings that were in me. Because I was mortal. And I would not stay until the end.
"I am sorry," I said, turning away. "I shouldn't have pushed you away."
"I am glad you did," Legolas said, his voice holding a warning.
I looked at him questioningly.
He ignored me. "Come, before the sun begins to sink," he said.
My attention focused on the deep descent before me. "I have not the skill nor the strength to survive such a jump," I pointed out.
"There are stairs," he said with an amused smile.
Oh, well then. I grimly walked towards the cracked stairs, accidentally brushing past Legolas as I went. Instantly, like a shock, I felt him tense up. I looked at him, concerned, but his expression revealed nothing. I tore my eyes away and quickly hurried down the stairs, gripping my bow tightly.
The bottom was a replica of the top. Dust. Rubble.
But there was something different, too. Like a voice in another room you strained to hear, I tried to grasp what was surrounding us and failed. My palms suddenly ached.
Needless to say, this was making me very uncomfortable.
"Legolas," I whispered, not daring to say anything louder.
He said nothing. I squinted though the darkness, then peered up at the distant circle of light above, and felt dizzy.
"Legolas, please," I said shallowly.
I turned and he wasn't there, nothing was anywhere, just a haze. Maybe it was in my head? It was pressing against my eyes.
"Gia," I heard a voice say. "Look at me."
"Where?" I said, whirling around.
"Follow my voice," Legolas said.
I took a deep breath and walked forward, finding the prince just a few paces away from me.
"What was that?" I asked, breathing heavily.
"They say elves are closest to the Valar," Legolas said. "It is easier for me to ignore the malice here. Not so for you, and with that necklace on it is likely making it worse."
"Do you feel anything?" I asked, looking around nervously.
"I should be asking you that," he said, glancing at the moonstone that hung down my chest.
"I can't keep getting distracted like this," I said frustratedly. "Let me take it off."
"It is your protection as well as your bane," Legolas said.
"Protection comes in many forms," I said, "I would rather be without it as long as my sanity was intact."
"Then if something happens, you will put it on." he reminded me.
"Yes, my lord," I sighed, reaching behind my neck to open the small clasp.
"Stop that," he said gently. "We are as equals."
"At least I don't--"
I stopped, seeing the tunnel open up into a deep underground forum. It appeared to be like a termite mound, with paths coiling around it. The only light was from a dim hole, hundreds of metres up.
"We must be swift in our search," Legolas said in a barely audible murmur.
"It seems so childish, needing to find it," I said with a sigh.
"Why do you say that?" Legolas asked, frowning.
"When we resolved to find it, it seemed so important to know what is the origin of my blessing. Now it is so much more important to carry out the will of the Valar."
"And may it be that we succeed," Legolas said darkly. "With any good fortune, the scroll will still exist and it will give us more insight in our purpose."
"Let us hurry, it feels as if we are heading towards eternal evil," I shuddered.
"Well," he said dryly. "We rather are."
Legolas held out his bow as we quickly walked and ducked along the narrow passageways and tunnels. It was so quiet, too quiet, and the sound of my own breathing was starting to make me crazy.
"Here's a door," Legolas said.
His whisper sounded like a shout in the opacity. He pushed it open and it let out a tortured squeal, probably mimicking the things it had seen in its career. I couldn't help but think of all the awful cliche horror movies where the door creaked open and some random zombie killer werewolf ghost jumped out and mauled the person who opened the door.
Legolas looked like a coiled spring, like a cat preparing to pounce. But no pounce was needed--the room was empty. The air smelled like stagnant pond water, and bare stone benches were arranged like an army's barracks.
"Let us continue," he said warily, backing out.
There were doors, and then there were doors, gaping holes of doors and caved in frames of doors.
But as we proceeded, I started to get skittish from the adrenaline running through me and lack of action to spend it on.
"It has to be here," Legolas said, brow furrowed, "This is the last intact ruin, as far as I know."
"As far as you know," I affirmed. "There could still be other places."
"Not so, few ruins still stand, and those underground are all but piled with rubble."
"Legolas, we cannot look now," I said, my glance darting around. At least my breathing was normal, that was a start.
"When, then?" he said with a sigh.
"I don't know, but not now," I said. "There is nowhere near here worth looking, is there?"
"Not to my knowledge," he said, a pale tinge of frustration to his words. "My father--"
"Thranduil can look for himself, Legolas, but we will not find the scroll here nor possibly anywhere. But the chances are high it lies cast away in some unreachable pit."
"Likely so, my lady," he intoned. "We had best turn back, I cannot tell much but that the sun is fading and soon no light will reach us."
I involuntarily shivered at his use of the formal title. I had no idea why, but the way he said it made my heart race and my thoughts turn disjointed.
Stupid necklace, I thought irritably.
"Haste, Legolas, or the dawn will overtake us." I said warningly, hurrying ahead.
"And how, Gianna, if it is but early dusk?" he asked, matching my stride and looking at me saucily.
Stop it, Gia, I thought shakily in response to my irregular heartbeat.
"Were anyone to live in this hole, I should be surprised if they didn't believe themselves to be caught in perpetual night," I said stoutly.
"That indeed is true," Legolas said thoughtfully. "Unfortunately we very well might be, should the scroll continue hidden."
"Then do we continue back?" I asked, stopping at the staircase.
I reflected on the fact that it really wasn't much of a staircase, more of a collection of various hand and footholds that ascended up into the darkness.
"I do not feel any safer here or there," he admitted, looking at me keenly. "Not after the treachery of Falcon."
"How do you think I feel?" I said irritably. "But we cannot stay here, I fear the night would bring on more phantasms and creatures that I care to become acquainted with."
Legolas sighed heavily and peered through the bleak room.
"I was hoping this wouldn't be necessary, but mayhap we stay until morning," he said quietly. "Above ground."
"Won't they come for us?"
"Yes," he affirmed. "But at the very least we may have more time to know what to do."
"Is it safe?" I asked skeptically.
He hesitated briefly before saying, "No."
I nodded. "I see. I'm assuming it is with you, then?"
He smiled wryly. "As far as I can guarantee."
"Onwards, then." I looked ahead into the darkness and only wished his arms were around me while we walked.
The cold air hit me like a slap in the face. A few flakes of snow fell from the sky in irregular intervals, lit faintly by the dying sun.
"It's so desolate," I murmured, looking around. My raw hands smarted in the chill.
"Did you expect any different?" Legolas asked, coming to stand with me.
"No."
"You should put the necklace back on," he reminded me.
I had completely forgotten I had taken it off in the first place. I realised with some surprise--and maybe some bewilderment--that most of the time I had been down there with him I hadn't had it on.
I ignored him, leaving the moonstone in my pocket.
All these feelings are so real, I thought desperately. I can never escape.
It was cold under the crooked archway, the ground hard, the darkness complete. Even without the necklace, occasional shadows at the edge of my vision distracted me, small discrepancies in the very air that I tried to ignore.
"Sleep, Gianna," Legolas said.
"In Mordor? Doubtful," I returned. Instead, I sat up and wrapped my arms around my knees. It felt like my muscles were covered in a thin layer of frost.
Legolas's soft voice interrupted my thoughts.
"Gianna--"
I turned to look at him. He reached for me and gently touched my arm before flinching as if he had been burned.
Oddly, the manner in which he did it made me warm in all sorts of ways.
He looked abashed. "I did not--"
"Why?" I interrupted, feeling minuscule snowflakes melting on my lips as I spoke.
"What?" he asked, eyes wide.
"Why are you glad I pushed you away?" I whispered in a voice like the wind.
"Because I could not take it otherwise," he said, strangely calm. His tortured gaze told me otherwise. "I cannot--Gia, ever since...that night--I cannot touch you, sometimes even look at you, without experiencing those same emotions, without picturing your lips on mine or feeling your skin against me."
He faltered, glassily staring into the night.
I was numb. Cold, but warm, but numb. "I--"
"Don't," he said forcefully. "I should not have been so forward with my thoughts."
"Is it true?" I asked, barely a murmur, surely lost amid the falling snow.
"Yes," he said ruefully, turning to face me.
"I cannot deny you the same confession," I said with resigned acceptance.
"I cannot hurt you anymore, Gianna," he said faintly. "Please, don't."
"It hurts more hearing you say that," I said, closely focusing on the pattern of ice on the stones around us.
Legolas stood up in one lithe motion and turned away. "The moon is rising," he said.
I followed him, stopping just before him.
He looked at me, eyes barely reflecting the thin moonlight that seeped from the worried clouds above.
"You don't need my permission, my Prince," I said, forgetting how to breathe.
"Whatever you say, my Lady," he murmured, and softly kissed me, drawing me in until there was no evil left in the world.
He kissed me with urgency I hadn't known until now, hopelessness, a deep sadness.
But when he turned from me, the lingering taste of honeysuckle was on my lips.