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L U M O R N E L
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I forced myself to look upon the dining room. Almost every face was upturned toward me. Some blatant with open hostility, others frozen in a visage of fear. A good portion kept sneaking glances, as if I was some creature too dangerous to look at. More than a few children hid their faces behind their mothers.

I hesitated. There were some who looked upon me with curious eyes and yet still some who gazed up in... hope? But they were as rare as a wildflower amidst a sea of weeds. I wasn't even sure if those faces were real. They got lost in the sea of uncertainty.

My fingers curled in upon themselves and I bit my tongue so hard I tasted blood. There were hundreds of people before me, some of them sitting shoulder to shoulder at their tables. I could feel their hatred. I could feel their fear.

And I could feel their absence of hope.

It was a living thing, licking at my skin, wanting me to sink beneath its dark waves. I could feel their hopelessness and despair crawling up my throat until I had to restrain my hand from clutching at my neck.

And then Aragorn spoke, his voice firm and steadying. "Peoples of the Western Hope. I stand before you today as a leader... and as a friend. Many moons ago, I had..."

I couldn't tear myself from those in the room, from their hate and fear and despair that pinned me in place and accused me. I didn't need a scheduled execution, they were killing me right then.

Aragorn softly touched my arm, signaling me to do what we had discussed in the hall not but a few moments before. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

Had he already spoken? Had Dervorin too?

"I..." I chewed my lip, crushed the long tunic in my fist. "I am sorry for my disappearance as of late. I'm not sure why I haven't been here, as Aragorn told you I have lost my memories, but I do know I was looking for the Western Hope. I was looking for a way to return to you."

I released my grip on the fabric, letting my hands go slack as I willingly let that light in me come forth. Its presence warmed my skin, from the bottoms of my toes to the top of my head. I glowed radiantly, I glowed... hopefully... like a beacon in the stark blackness of night.

"I stand before you all as a member of your ranks. I will fight for you. I will defend you. I will stand by your side."

Their hopelessness again bombarded me, swelling my throat with emotion. "And I will help you regain your hope. Together we can defeat this evil and we will restore the peace that we once had."

My light built upon itself in that moment, rising to a flare of soft brilliance that filled the room. I was careful not to let it harm, to not blind. Sweat broke out on my skin at the effort and I was left breathless.

"She will not fail you," Dervorin called. "She is, once again, on our side. She fights for Eru and she fights for you."

A wave of bleak silence settled upon the people, as if they were all holding their breaths at once, as if they were all considering our words. And then—

"She betrayed us once and she'll do it again!"

Each syllable was a wound, a drumbeat in the stillness, bleeding out in the short quiet that followed—

"What makes you think we can trust her?!" Another voice, closer to us.

"She's with the enemy!"

"She is the enemy!"

Each word was like a blow to the stomach. How could I fight for a people who didn't believe that I would fight for them?

The cafeteria erupted into shouted questions, murmuring queries, and hurried discussions.

"Do you not trust those that lead you?" Aragorn shouted. "And do you not trust the words of those who knew her as a friend? I ask you to hold your judgment and consider her before you place your blame."

Aragorn stepped off the dais and I hurriedly followed him in the new din of raised voices. There were not quite as many hostile shouts as before, but in its place there were loud, agitated voices and pointed glares. And then there were people who sat rigid as stone, their pale faces frozen.

Aragorn set our pace, forcing me to walk at a steady, slow stride. I wanted nothing more than to run out of the room as I couldn't stop the swell of butterflies in my stomach that rose and fuzed my mind. My palms tingled, my heart beat rapidly.

We came to Command's table, Aragorn leading me to the empty space beside Legolas. The elf sat there, staring at his half-empty plate, his hand tightly wrapped around his silver fork.

I glanced at Aragorn pleadingly. He ignored me, gesturing for me to sit beside the elf. Sighing, I did so, and Aragorn sat on my other side. Legolas's presence next to me felt like a burning fire, I couldn't ignore it. Yet with the way he sat there... I had to. And besides, I didn't know what to say to him.

Across from me sat the Rohan woman from Command, who I learned to be Estalyn, and next to her sat Gimli.

Suddenly, I realized Aragorn and I were the only ones without a plate of food. The smell of mashed potatoes, biscuits, and some kind of stew made my mouth water.

Almost as soon as my stomach began to growl, a plate was placed in front of me.

I looked up and—

I blinked.

There was an elf, her hair as dark as coal.

She smiled and bowed, then took her seat down the table before I could thank her. Though I doubt I would've been able to get through the shock of someone curtsying to me.

"Who was that?"

"Fairiel," Aragorn stated, digging into the plate she gave him. "She is the elleth Lord Celeborn sent on his and Lady Galadriel's behalf."

"She's also the reason why you aren't hanging from a noose." Estalyn smiled, but there was no animosity in it. Perhaps only some caution.

Orhallon snorted from beside Estalyn, setting his utensils down on his now empty plate. "I doubt Detrius would have settled for something so undramatic. Perhaps a beheading? That macabre deed is more his cup a tea."

I bit my lip, the scar on my neck seemingly tingling at the thought. Glancing down the table at Detrius, the old man seemed animated in conversation with Fairiel, his biscuit untouched.

I felt as if I should say something, anything, to make myself seem less alien but nothing would come to mind. So I reached across the table for butter, trying my best to ignore the elf next to me and the woman glaring at me with outright hostility at the table behind Estalyn. I couldn't be sure with the man sitting in front of her, but I thought she was gripping a knife.

"Lumornel?"

"What?" I asked, but when Legolas didn't answer me, I looked up. Gimli, Aragorn, and the elf were staring at me, eyes wide.

"What?"

I glanced at Estalyn and Orhallon, even the scarred man next to him, but they seemed as confused as me.

"You're holding a knife, Lass."

I glanced at the butter knife in hand. "So?"

"You were terrified of knives," Legolas spoke. "You refused to touch them."

"Oh." I thought of the scars smattering my body.

I bit my lip, wanting to ask 'why' in an effort to remember, but knowing now might not be the best time.

I settled for, "there's a lot of people in here."

Oh Lumornel, you're an idiot! I mentally smacked my forehead and focused intently on my food.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Legolas smile softly. "The dining hall isn't always this packed. There are two separate eating times, some are assigned to one and the others are assigned to the other. Today, they are all here for you. Though they did not know it."

I nodded, hurriedly sipping some soup before I could embarrass myself again.

"Lumornel?"

I leaned forward, looking around Aragorn to see the most beautiful elleth. Her hair was as dark as night and her skin as fair as silk. Even her eyes seemed to glimmer like freshly polished ash jewels. I was too shocked by her beauty to respond.

"Should you ever need anything, or simply some company, don't be afraid to grace me with your presence."

I nodded, words still failing me.

Aragorn smiled. "You could help Arwen decorate the nursery, I rarely have the time to help her."

I felt my eyes widen, traveling down to her ever small bump. This beauty was Aragorn's wife?!

"I'd—" I cleared my throat, ducking my head as my ears warmed, "I'd like that."

Arwen smiled.

I went back to my stew, but the food was the farthest thing from my mind. She was inviting me to help decorate for her baby. She wanted me around her? More importantly, Aragorn didn't mind if I was around his pregnant wife?

"What did you think of Dever?" Estalyn asked.

I paused, startled out of my thoughts, and furrowed my brows. "Who?"

Estalyn exchanged a glance with Aragorn. "The man who brought you to Elladan and Elrohir?"

"I—" I racked my brain. "I don't—"

I blinked, my memories feeling like fog. "Elladan... Elrohir... they were the elves in the meeting room?"

Aragorn leveled his gray eyes on me. "Yes, the twins... What's the furthest thing back you can remember?"

"I..." That fog again. It was like wading through mud, thinking about that meeting and before that... nothing. Who was Dever? "That meeting. With the twins."

I glanced up. "How far back was that?"

"Two weeks," Orhallon said.

Valar.

Well, don't think about that now. I stabbed my fork into my mashed potatoes and reached for more butter.

"So..." I sneaked a glance at Orhallon and spread some butter on a biscuit, now self-conscious of the knife in my hand. "When do we leave?"

"Leave for what?" Legolas asked. I ignored him.

Orhallonn raised a brow. "Glad to see you're eager, Miss Candle." He gulped down the last dregs in his mug. "We leave at first light a week from today."

"Leave for what?" Legolas repeated.

"Oh. Your dead-now-alive girlfriend didn't tell? Oh wait, you didn't bother to visit her since she was freed."

Legolas's hand found the fork on his empty plate and gripped it.

"Going to skewer me with a dining utensil?" Orhallon shrugged. "Go ahead, I'm sure that wouldn't cause a bit of trouble."

The glare Legolas leveled him could have cooked a wild boar.

"Tolchon dad, Legolas." Aragorn spooned in some stew, acting like a fight wasn't about to break out on top of a table. "E anira na rûth gi."

Orhallon eyed Aragorn, seeming to weigh the tone of his voice to decipher just what he had said.

"Is he your keeper, elf? Does he pull on your leash to keep you calm—"

"Shut up, would you?" My fork hit the table with a loud clunk. "Leave him alone."

I turned to Legolas. "If you had visited me after I had been released, I would have told you. But you didn't." I stopped and remembered Aragorn's words from earlier, breathed in as shame hit me. "I'm sorry, you didn't deserve that."

I bit my tongue, opened my mouth—

"Miss Candle, I do believe he does deserve—"

"Shut up," I snarled, "Mr. Snappy."

I violently stuck my fork in the mashed potatoes, pushed them around as my jaw threatened to fall off at the force of my clenching it. I stood up from the table and immediately regretted it as eyes from other tables found me, conversations dying.

Biting my tongue hard enough to sting, I leaned down next to Legolas. "Find me later. We—we need to talk."

With that, I left, pushing myself out the dining hall as a few guards found me and followed.

I nearly scoffed, nearly turned and told them to go away.

I'm not going to start murdering people!!

And yes, I got lost on my way to my room.

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Two hours later, there was a knock at my door.

Legolas had been pacing on the other side for nearly twenty minutes. I could feel him through whatever relationship I have with the energy in the air.

I didn't feel like talking. When I had returned, shame had eaten me up. I had acted the opposite of how I was supposed to act. I had been angry. I had called Legolas out, when I knew why—kind of—he hadn't visited me.

That anger, it didn't leave. It was quieter, but it roiled beneath the surface, waiting for a stick to poke it awake.

I was afraid that if I opened my mouth, I'd collapse. I'd cry. I'd yell. I didn't know.

So I opened the door.

Legolas stood there, his eyes instantly meeting mine and then looking away. His loose air was a mess from hands that had run through it. A muscle in his jaw ticked.

I opened the door further, silently inviting him in. His eyes, that had been searching my bland room, found mine again. Left.

I retreated to my bed and watched him as he took up residence near the wall furthest from me. He didn't cross his arms, but they were rigid at his sides. He refused to look at me for longer than a second, though he kept glancing at me.

Obviously, he didn't want to sit with me.

I motioned to the small, small desk that doubled as a vanity. "You can sit there."

His long legs strode across the small room and he sat, turning the chair around.

"Why am I here?" He asked stiffly.

I sighed and fiddled with my fingers. First thing's first. "I'm going with... I don't know who to fight Alagosson."

A switch went off in him, his whole attention snapped on me. "No. You're not going."

I sputtered. "What? What do you mean? I have to go."

Legolas stood up, began pacing again. The space was too small for his legs though and I was worried he'd soon get dizzy from going back and forth so fast. "No, you don't. There will be uur rauko, it'll be too dangerous."

I narrowed my eyes. "That isn't going to stop me."

He opened his mouth—

"No, I'm going. This is my chance to prove myself. I can begin by showing that I'm not Gwaraith. And nothing you can say will change my mind."

"I'll go in your stead—"

"No." I huffed, throwing my hand in the air. "Stop this—this whole... protection thing. I've made it nine years without your help, so what makes you think I need you now?"

Other than memory retrieving that is. "In a protective sense," I added. He went still.

"I..." I again remembered what had happened to him. "I'm sorry."

I chewed on my cheek, assessing his broad, tense shoulders. Still, he refused to look at me. "You can come with us—" a fraction of the tension in his shoulders receded "—and if Orhallon and the others say you can't come then I'll try my best to counter them. Though... I'm not sure how much I hold over them so I can't guarantee anything."

"Intimidate them. They're afraid of the power you hold, not only your light, but your influence. You can use that to your advantage."

I shook my head. "I'm trying to show them that they shouldn't be afraid of me. And besides, they have my journal. I can't risk them ruining it or keeping it from me longer."

It terrified me to know that my mind was deteriorating further and more rapidly. Already, a mere two hours after dinner, the names Elladan and Elrohir... they began to hold no meaning. I couldn't picture whoever had bore those names. I knew they were twin elves who had brought me to the Western Hope, but I only knew that because I was told. I couldn't picture the memory itself.

That tension returned to him, but he nodded once and began to move towards the door.

"Wait!"

He paused, the muscles in his jaw bulging from clenching it.

"Could... could you maybe tell me about myself? Where I was from maybe? What I liked."

I held my hands so tightly that my fingers turned red. I knew I was bringing up things he didn't want to remember. But... I had to know. I had to try.

Legolas tilted his head to the ceiling and closed his eyes. His breathing deepened, as if to steady himself.

"You were raised in my elfdom, in the forest homes of Mirkwood. You were the only human there, as you were found by two elves in the woods as an infant..." He paused and I waited for him to continue.

"What were they like? My parents."

"Your mother, Esgarbes, sometimes wove robes for my Father. She enjoyed gardening whereas your Father reminisced in the times he was in the Guard."

My memories... still blank, lying dormant or gone. "And what did I do?"

"You... you read. Lumornel often read in a tree..."

His chest caved and his breathing stopped altogether.

"I'm sorry, I cannot continue." He put his hand on the door handle—

"Legolas, wait!" I stood, stepping towards him. He couldn't leave, not yet, not with so much more to know. "I need to know. I—"

I stopped, considered, and pulled a desperate card.

"Don't you want me to remember you?"

He spun, eyes livid. "Of course I do. Lumornel used to see me, she could understand me in a way no one else could. And now when you look at me your eyes see a stranger. There's no spark, there isn't the glimmer that used to be in those green eyes. You're not her," he spat. "You may have her body, you may have her voice, but you are not Lumornel."

He averted his eyes again. "Not as you were."

It was my turn to stop breathing. It seemed like whatever hope I had at regaining my memories strained, even as I gazed upon the lost elf in front of me. The one who was supposed to offer salvation.

He again met my gaze and his voice dropped. "I had nine years to bury the turmoil inside me and I managed, after months of not eating, of not leaving my bed, to walk these halls without tears. And then I was able to look at all the trees and the stars and winter's snow and not be crushed with grief because they reminded me of you. I could think and help Aragorn and try to continue what you could not. I was regaining some sort of twisted normalcy.

"But then you came back. And all those emotions resurfaced... you... you broke me."

I knew he didn't mean when I came to the Western Hope.

He dropped his head, voice a whisper. "Why didn't you come back sooner?"

A solemn tear rolled down his cheek.

I took a step towards him... and then retreated. My nails bit into my palms.

"I almost left... I almost sailed to Valinor... but you—" he spun, finger jutting out towards me "—were the reason why I stayed. I'm in constant pain because of you.

"You," his voice cracked, "you died."

"Legolas, I—"

"No."

And with that, he left.

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Tolchon dad
⇾ "Calm down"

E anira na rûth gi
⇾ "He's trying to rile you"
⇾ literal: "He desires to anger you"

^^so if there's any mistakes with the Sindarin please let me know so I can fix, thank you :)

I'm super happy that you guys only had to wait 15 days rather than a month :)  :)  :) see, good things are coming out of this quarantine.

Anyways, are you frustrated with Legolas like I am?

I'm also just frustrated with the whole situation. Ahh.

Anyways, thank you for reading! And God bless!