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With the forest of Lorien before us and Fangorn in our wake, we at last came into sight of our destination. After weeks of travel, and waiting, and torture, my relieved eyes fell upon the clear water of Mirrormere, received plentifully from the Silverlode river. A single totem pole rose before the great pond, and as we neared the calm water, we noticed the stars that scintillated gently atop its glassy surface, in spite of it being midday at best. Trees climbed up the incline of the Mountains that rose like pillars on our left. The sun beat against their facades as it descended past the very highest of trees in the Golden Wood.
My eyes flitted away from the entrancing beauty of Mirrormere, drawn to the incline of a Mountain, and when my eyes landed on it, my breath hitched. The gate of Moria.
An image of the Fellowship emerging at this very moment and sharing with us a happy reunion materialized in my mind, but I shook it away. I wasn't stupid enough to believe we'd actually meet in Mirrormere. In fact, they were likely in Lorien by now. If they'd gotten out at all.
The thought of them, still trapped within the Mountain, created a sickly feeling in my stomach, one that felt like heavy rocks weighing my spirit down. And then I spotted something on a nearby boulder, laying so neatly it could not have been left by accident. Legolas followed my gaze, his own landing on the object of my fascination. A pipe.
Aragorn's.
My fingers clasped around the lacquered briar-wood, and I drew it nearer to my face, inspecting it. Overturning it revealed that the bowl had collected water-rainwater-that had likely been there for days considering the time of the last rainfall. By now there was no doubt in my mind that it was his.
I remembered that night, that seemed now to have been ages ago, when he and I sat up around the fire, our breath hanging idly in the air as we smiled and laughed together. I turned the pipe in my hand again and again, excitement growing in my chest. My legs, my hands, my fingers. The blood that coursed through them seemed to flow faster, more readily than before. I would soon be reunited with him. With all of them.
After half month, we would be together again.
"They've gone to Lorien," Legolas said, his eyes fixated on the distant forest.
"Do you think we've the time to make it there tonight?" I glanced between Legolas and the setting sun.
"We've the time to distance ourselves, at least, from Moria. I don't care to meet any of the Goblins that have taken up residence in its walls."
I nodded, pocketing the pipe in my jacket, before sparing one last parting glance at Mirrormere, reflecting a myriad of warm colours that converged into a blinding white, a reflection like a careful painting of the evening sun.
And with that, we turned, Orthanc and Moria behind us, and Lorien before us. The Fellowship before us.
✶
When we'd covered half the distance to Lorien, and the sun had at last been sucked down to whatever lay below the horizon, we stopped to make camp for the last time by ourselves. We ran through the routine of lighting a fire, gathering wood, and scouting the area in no time at all, and were soon seated around the fire's gentle light. Legolas stared into the flames, and I, in turn, watched him. My mind returned to when we'd first been separated from the group. The first time Legolas and I had camped on our own. Then, to the first time he'd kissed me. And the second. I blushed when I recounted the way his hands felt, his lips, his body against mine. I knew it was wrong, I knew I was in no position to even think about things like that, but I couldn't help it. I couldn't bring myself to say no. The want and desire dwelled just as strongly within me as they did in Legolas.
Without my realizing it, Legolas' gaze had moved from the fire to me, and he watched me with a amused grin. I looked away, my lips in a thin worried line because of the question I knew I had to ask.
"Where do we stand, Legolas?" I didn't meet his eyes, but still felt the energy drain out of them.
"What do you mean?"
"For Varda's sake, Legolas, you know what I mean. We can't pursue this... But we can't ignore what's happened, as though it never did," I said.
"I'm not inclined to forget," he smirked, wrapping a sly arm around my waist and pulling me closer.
"Would you be serious about this?" I fought back a smile, as he turned my head to face him, and planted a quick kiss on my lips.
"What would you have us do?" he asked.
"I... I don't know," I threw my hands up in defeat.
We'd come too far, grown too close, to just ignore everything between us. And yet these feelings we shared couldn't be brought with us into Lorien. Couldn't follow us back to the Fellowship. Couldn't hang over us on our way to Mordor. So what were we to do?
"Do you want to know what I think?" he asked.
"What is that, elf-boy?"
"Well, princess, I think we waste more time and energy debating what we should do about this... Then we do actually pursuing it. It doesn't matter what we say or decide, these feelings won't go away. Those nights won't go away," he said softly in my ear, causing a shiver to crawl down my spine.
I didn't answer him. Truthfully, no answer came to mind. He was right. I'd spent more time dwelling on what we should do, wasted more energy trying to avoid him than I ever would just giving into our shared feelings towards each other.
"What's the matter? Nothing to say to that?" he chuckled, "Can't admit when you're wrong hmm?"
"Prove me wrong, then," I said slyly, "Show me why... This... Is worth pursuing."
His smile grew and grew as I spoke, and he pulled me over top of him, so that I straddled his waist. With a forcible jerk, he tugged me by the collar so that our lips connected, and I released a pleasurable sigh. Perhaps our relationship wasn't to last, perhaps it was doomed to end. But for now, while we were here, together, I wasn't going to stop.
✶
A shrieking cackle ripped through the night, tearing the peaceful quiet to shreds. I was jolted from my sleep and found Legolas already at alert beside me. I suddenly became painfully aware of our lack of weapons, having had them stolen from us at Orthanc. The distorted laughter seemed to grow louder, nearer, more numerous. Legolas stood and I followed his lead. We stood back to back, our eyes trailing cautiously over the dark mounds of earth and rock that flanked us on all side except to the east, where Lorien lie, now appearing so much further away. I searched the nearby area fruitlessly for this last threat Legolas and I stood to face before reaching our friends. Whatever this last obstacle, keen on keeping us separated, might be.
With an abrupt lurch, the mangled body of a goblin sauntered out of the shadows, his skin an eerie grey under the moon's critical light. Before we'd any time to react, more followed the first, stepping out from beneath the blanket of darkness that covered the bed of night. Legolas and I spun around, searching in vain for any sort of break in the circle of goblins that was quickly growing around us. None.
I frantically raked my eyes over the surrounding area for something-anything-that might be used as a weapon. My gaze fixated on the black charred pile of wood, still glowing a very dull orange. Without a moment's hesitation, I snatched it up, swinging it wildly at a smaller goblin, knocking him into another. The force sent them sprawling aside, opening up just enough space for Legolas and me to break free.
We charged like mad towards Lorien, which lay perhaps a half hour's trek away. Legolas and I flew over the rough and jutting terrain, followed closely by the sounds of shrieking cackles, piercing screams and countless small footsteps, that together made for a sound like an earthquake.
We pressed on. My ribs, only just now healed, burned furiously as I pumped my arms and legs at Legolas' side. And we got closer. The trees grew taller and darker, their peaks only allowing for shards of the moon's sallow glow to escape from between their leaves.
With a sudden twang, an arrow bounced off the ground just beside me. I shot a glance back at our pursuers. As they chased us, they drew arrows, swords, spears, and whatever else they had. This only accelerated our pace. Then, my heart plummeted into my stomach when my gaze landed on the ravine.
A narrow rift in the ground, descending perhaps twenty or thirty feet into the stony earth. I gauged it to be at least ten feet across, and Legolas and I shared a worried glance. And we knew what we had to do. We'd have to jump. We hadn't any other choice. And if we made it, we'd likely outrun the goblins, who were easily half our height.
The crack drew nearer, and as it did, it appeared to grow larger and larger, smothering any hope that I might've been clinging onto of actually vaulting it. But we couldn't stop now. Just as I was preparing myself to kick off from the ground, a searing pain split through my body. An arrow had embedded itself in my back, eerily close to the shoulder that had been pierced by the Uruk-Hai blade. I gasped, staggering, before plummeting into the ravine, the arrow splitting off on a sharp rock, leaving a splintered piece of wood that protruded from my back. I let out a pained scream, as my body tumbled down the subtle incline, feeling rocks as sharp as blades slice through my skin, break my bones.
At last, a single large boulder that leaned against the wall of the narrow ravine broke my fall. I shuddered but did not move. My eyes stared up at the crevice of sky that hung above me. I couldn't see Legolas. Suddenly, a goblin's head poked over the side of the ravine, and it pointed a crooked white finger at me, releasing a shrieking snarl. Its head was followed by others, and they began to search for a way down, when, with the swiftness of a diving falcon, an arrow shot from the other side of the ravine, and with a hollow thunk, sunk into the head of a goblin. It fell forwards. With a sickening crack, its skull took the brunt of the fall, landing somewhere beside me.
More arrows followed. Travelling in an arc, they flew over the ravine, meeting their marks with a series of bloody thunks. I tried to stand. My vision went spotty and black and my head felt heavy. My entire body screamed in pain. I collapsed back against the boulder, and my hopeless eyes met the kindly ones of a round-faced blonde elf, who peered down at me on the opposite side of the ravine, bow in hand. At the ready. And directed at me.
"By the Valar, I don't believe it," his bow lowered as his eyes grew in something that resembled recognition, "Elena Galrevia!"
"Haldir," Legolas' head appeared next, and he placed a gentle hand on the other elf's shoulder, "This is Elena Morétur, Princess of Aerith. We travel together. We travel with the Fellowship."
"Nonsense, she looks just as her mother did, I should know, she was a close friend of mine. And even closer to the Lady of the Wood," Haldir shrugged out of his grip, abandoning his bow.
A tidal wave of questions crashed over my mind. He knew my mother? But how? As far as I'd been told, my mother had hardly left Aerith due to her condition, let alone made friends with elves. And he'd called me Galrevia, as Saruman had. I felt more confusion than ever before, but my questions stuck to the back of my dry throat.
Haldir, waving to someone behind him, called out, "A rope, if you please, Farryn."
"Right away," another voice responded, and at length, a long rope was tossed over the side of the ravine.
Before anyone could stop him, Legolas had descended into the cavity in the ground, and his arms were around me, gentle and calming. When he'd made certain I was still alive, he fastened a loop into the bottom of the rope. Carefully, he lifted me into his arms. He slipped his foot into the loop in the rope, calling up to the others to pull us up. It was a haze of strain, grunting, and pulling, my consciousness flitting in and out, but the elves-of which there were eight-finally managed to get us to the top of the ravine again. There, I saw countless goblin bodies scattered on the other side, and could just make out the faint, retreating silhouettes of the rest of them. They scurried back towards the mountain.
I tried to slip out of Legolas' arms, but he held me closer. I didn't have the strength to fight, so I allowed him to carry me as we followed behind the others, who led us the rest of the way to Lorien. We were now only ten minutes away. But the trek seemed to go on forever. I repressed painful grunts at each step Legolas took. Each time my body moved in the slightest. My head felt light, and I was consumed with such fatigue, that I hardly paid any mind to the curious glances of the other elves at the broken creature in Legolas Greenleaf's arms.
That was something for me to be embarrassed about tomorrow.
As the white sun of dawn clawed itself into the scarlet red sky, we finally broke into the canvas of tall trees that composed the Golden Wood.
And golden, it was. The trees, their leaves the purest of yellow-gold, swayed slightly in the gentle wind that passed through the ember-orange of the morning sky. The pale white sun cast ribbons of light that washed over the golden-brown earth beneath our feet. The leaves seemed to scintillate, bathed under this gentle light. I marvelled at it with eyes as wide and silver as the moon as we pressed further on. Soon, we were surrounded on all sides by a sea of gold.
As we progressed deeper and deeper, something strange resounded in my mind. A voice. A silvery voice. A woman's. And judging by the expressions of the others, a voice only I could hear.
"The day has long been nigh that you arrive to my wood, Elena Galrevia," it said airily, "But you, you know not why. You know not why I call you as I do. You know not why the eye visits your mind at night's dead. You know not why the runes of Alcavarnë Nís adorn your body. Nor why, even, I know these things and you do not."
There was a pause, so brief I could hardly recollect myself, before the voice continued;
"In this wood there is much to be sought, but what do you hope to seek? Perhaps a bed to rest your bones? Comfort and it's safety? Perhaps you seek to find your friends, for in my care they dwell. Or perhaps, what you seek most are the things you wish I tell."
I paused, my whole body rigid as I waited for the voice to speak again. But it didn't. Legolas seemed to pick up on my anxiety, for he lowered his gaze to meet mine. Deciding on changing the subject, I once again tried to free myself.
"I can walk on my own, elf-boy," I said, but he still would not allow it.
"You're in no fit state to walk," he responded stiffly.
"And you're in no fit state to carry me," I retorted.
"We're both recovered from Orthanc, the only difference being that you fell down a thirty foot ravine after taking an arrow," he said, before lowering his lips to my ear, "Besides, something tells me you don't dislike being in my arms."
I blushed, giving up the struggle, which only managed to generate pain in my muscles and bones. After a half hour, we finally came into sight of a kingdom that stole my breath. Atop, amid, between, and below the trees, stretched long and slim silver walkways that connected buildings of different size, each intricately bedecked in ornate glass windows, and spiralling carvings. And from the balcony of a particularly low one, came an excitedly shrill call that stopped my beating heart.
"Strider! Frodo! You lazy old Took and Brandybuck! Gimli and Boromir!" a shower of names that each resounded in my mind left Samwise Gamgee's lips as he peered down at us, "They're here! They've made it!"
In rapid succession, the faces of Merry, Pippin, Gimli, Boromir, and Frodo peeked over the balcony, their faces lighting up with bright and cheerful smiles. Then came Aragorn, his eyes round and disbelieving and landing eagerly on mine.
And with a breathless sigh of relief, he spoke, "Elena."
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