::::::::::

L U M O R N E L

::::::::::

I gritted my teeth and neatly placed the papers I had been writing on under the cushion in the singular chair in the room. If I couldn't have my journal, I'd just have to make a new one.

The door to my chamber opened with no announcement, a singular guard standing just inside the small room. I stood.

Gimli poked his head in. "Aye lass, you summoned me?"

I smiled, relaxing. "Yes, I was worried they wouldn't have sent my letter."

I wouldn't have been surprised if my guards had been ordered to hold all my letters. That way I wouldn't be able to leave; I wasn't allowed to escape my room without an authorized escort. I had escaped a cell only to enter into a gilded one disguised with comforts. But a cage was still a cage.

Though, I should be thankful for the fact that I could still leave—with exception, and was given a real bed with real covers and clothes.

Gimli fully lumbered into my room, inspecting it while he talked. He grunted, turning his eyes on the guard. "They'll learn to respect you."

"I hope not out of fear." I stopped next to the vanity and grabbed a hair ribbon. "Shall we go?"

The dwarf nodded and led me out the door. Of course, the two guards posted at my door followed us.

"As much as I enjoy your company, especially after so many years thinking you had joined your ancestors, why did you not invite Aragorn to take you? Surely you'd feel more comfortable with him."

I shrugged, ignoring the sting in my shoulder. "I think he may have more important things to do than escorting me to the healer's wing, I didn't want to bother him."

Gimli inhaled as if to talk, then paused. "What... what about Legolas?"

I clenched my fists, stared straight ahead. "I'm not going to bother him."

"He loves you, lass. I know it may not seem it, but he is glad you are here."

I shook my head gently. "No, he loved Lumornel. Not me."

"But--"

"In his mind, the memories I had before I died is what makes me the elleth... the woman he loved."

Gimli pondered this for a moment. "Did he try to help you regain your past?"

Legolas flashed before me as he was last night. His head tilted upwards as if to block the pain out, golden hair running down his back. A tight fist, flashing eyes. A quietly closing door. I almost wished he had slammed it.

"He tried."

Again, the dwarf was quiet. "After the battle--the one where you lost your life--Legolas changed. It was more than your death that broke him, Lassie. The ring, his mother, something else in his past that he would not tell me, they were already breaking him. The way he is now is not fully the result of that fateful day in Mordor. I think it was only a matter of time before he cracked."

I shook my head ruefully and bit my lip. "Did... did you know anything of who I was?"

"I knew you on our journey, but not before. I did know that your parents were the fair Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn. Though you did not know that much longer than me."

"What? H—"

I didn't get to finish the question.

The healers' quarters were upon us and they were a flurry of action.

Women and ellith bustled about, blood on their white and gray linens.

A bowl of hot water shattered, scattering into a million wet pieces. The woman who dropped it stared at me, eyes wide.

"Nidha!" An elleth, the one who had cared for my wounds, strode to the girl. Then she saw me. Her face paled.

"Goheno nin, Brennil."

"It's alright," I said softly. I crouched, helping to pick up the broken ceramic. I tried not to cut my fingers on the shards.

"I came by to get my bandages changed, but..." I glanced at the moaning men on the beds, the soldiers who looked burned, blood pouring from shoulders and heads. "I'll come back later."

Her gray eyes sought out my shoulder, as if she could see healing flesh underneath the loose dress I wore. "Is it causing trouble?"

I hesitated. "It's nothing that can't wait until these soldiers are cared for."

She paused, carefully helping to clean up the mess. "It may be several hours, Brennil."

"That is okay." I glanced again at the frightened woman. She hurriedly gathered the broken bowl, cutting her fingers in the process.

"I'm sorry," I said to her. "For scaring you. I can clean this up while you tend to your fingers."

She shook her head quickly, still gathering the pieces.

Desperately, I looked to the elleth. "Please, can I at least get you a towel?"

She thought for a moment, then looked around the full healing quarters. She averted her eyes, her voice quiet.

"I... I think it might be better if you left."

I straightened. Right.

"Don't mind them," Gimli said as we left. "They'll come around."

I doubted it, though I wish I had the confidence he had.

The pained moaning dwindled to nothing as Gimli and I traveled further down the hall.

I had no idea where to go.

My room felt like a prison. The healers did not want my presence, especially the wounded. In fact, no one here other than Gimli and Aragorn wanted me around.

I might as well leave, escape into the wilderness and wait for the abyss to claim me.

A heavy, heavy weight sank into me. Breathing seemed too much a burden, my shoulders too much to hold up.

This is what despair felt like. This is what the people of Middle-earth felt daily.

The thought was enough to scare off some of that weight.

"Where's the library?"

"We don't have much of one, lass. Just a small room with some ragged historical texts."

"That's okay."

"... I'm not sure where it is. I'm not one for books."

I smiled. "We can search for it together, then."

:::::::

It took a while to find it.

It seemed that the library itself did not want to be found. The area didn't seem much more than a conference room that happened to have a few shelves. And Gimli was right. There seemed to be only a few small arm fulls of ancient books. The covers seemed to be trying to escape their pages.

Despite the small, seemingly forgotten room, there sat a blonde woman. She sat knitting a scarf with a ball of rich, rich navy blue yarn

At the sight of us, she froze. Her wide, brown eyes locked on me.

Then, she suddenly relaxed and she smiled. "I feel almost offended that you didn't seek me out sooner, Nelly."

What?

Wide-eyed, I glanced at Gimli.

The woman's smile melted and a sadness entered her eyes. "So it's true. You really don't remember."

She softly shook her head and stood. She stepped towards me and held out her hand. I nearly stepped back.

But I eyed her hand warily and took it.

"My name is Sunngifu. We became friends nine years ago when you came to Helm's Deep."

"I'd introduce myself," I said slowly, "but you seem to already know me."

She smiled sadly again. For a moment she was silent.

"Can..." she hesitated, then seemed to straighten as she made up her mind, as if determined. "Can I hug you?"

I again glanced at Gimli. He simply smiled.

I gulped. "Sure."

Gently, she pulled me into her arms, but her hug was tight, warm. Her hands fisted on my back, her face turning into my neck.

Slowly, I rested my hands on her back, weakly hugging the stranger.

She pulled away and turned around to gather her project. "Would you like to meet my daughter? She's been dying to meet you the moment we saw you at dinner last night."

When she turned back, her eyes were misty. She looked away, then again seemed to straighten. It was like she refused to be seen as weak, and if she showed signs, she'd stare down her adversary until they doubted there was any weakness at all. It was baffling.

"I... uh..."

"Of course," she rushed. "You are only just meeting me. And you came here to read. I'll just..."

She plopped back into her seat.

"I'm not usually like this. But seeing a dead friend who no longer knows you is... well..."

"Disconcerting?" I offered.

She smiled. "Yes, very."

I reflected back my own smile and moved around the table, making my way towards the unnamed books.

Gimli shuffled near the door.

Sunngifu laughed. "I can stay with her, Master Gimli."

"Oh, uh, thank you. I mean, only if the lass allows it."

I laughed. "Yes, Gimli, you may go."

"It's not that I want to," he began uncomfortably. "Don't think I don't want to see you, it's just, you're with a friend, and you'll be reading and—"

"It's fine, Gimli. Go."

At my smile, he nodded his thanks, said he'd see me at dinner and left.

Once the door closed, I went to the shelves, running my fingers along the aged spines. I felt the woman's eyes on me.

"I'm glad you're back."

I'm not Lumornel though, simply a hollowed shell of who she was.

I simply nodded, taking a book on the theory of fighting stances out of its dusty confines.

"Have you spoken to Legolas?"

My fingers froze before they flipped open the cover.

"Yes."

She raised her eyebrows. "Has he tried to help you?"

"He tried. Now he won't talk to me." At breakfast and at lunch he wasn't at the table. It wasn't hard to imagine why.

She straightened her lips into a thin line. "I've heard he had a rough time after..."

I rolled my eyes heavenward as I plopped myself into the seat across from her. "It seems like everyone is telling me that."

"Then you'll know it's true."

I glanced up at her, then away. "I don't even know how to communicate with him. He doesn't even think I'm her."

"Her? Nelly, you may have amnesia, but that does not make you someone else. You are Lumornel. Your mannerisms are the same, your speech pattern, even the way you react are the same. Valar, you are even in here reading about some bland topic like her! You're Lumornel whether you realize it or not and I suggest that you accept that sooner rather than later."

I had... until Legolas came along.

"It's not simple amnesia though. My memories are falling away. Soon I'll just be a body, not knowing who is who and where I am."

Her brows furrowed. "So you're losing who you are?"

I nodded. It's like I'm dying again.

"How much can you remember? Right now?"

I sighed. Everyone wanted to know this. I was getting tired of repeating myself. Actually I was past tired. I was frustrated.

"Two weeks. Maybe less."

I had thought of it enough that saying it aloud didn't make the muscles in my shoulders tighten. They already were. I was gonna have a killer knot in my back.

Again, that grim line on her face. "How can we fix this?"

I glanced up, away from the book. She's the first person to ask. Blatantly, anyway.

"I'm hoping that if someone can tell me my past memories, I'll remember."

She nodded, set down the scarf she was working on. "I don't know much about who you were before you met me, but I can tell you of our time together."

My heart soared in my chest. I nodded. "Yes. Yes, I would love that."

:::::::

I followed the guards through the halls, having just left the dining hall. I arrived at dinner early so no one would have to stand in line with me. Or rather, I arrived early so I wouldn't have to witness the people keeping their distance. And then I left meals early too, so they wouldn't have to avoid me as if I was the plague. At least it gave me time to walk the halls mostly alone.

I side-eyed the guards around me. One in front, two behind.

Aragorn offered to walk me to my room, but he seemed to be having a good time sitting next to his wife. And the seat on the other side of me... empty.

Legolas was absent not only at dinner, but at lunch and breakfast too. Aragorn and Gimli had let their eyes wander to that empty seat more than once.

We rounded the corner to my room, passing a young man who scurried quickly around us.

I glanced down at the floor, away from the memory of the frightened man. I took solace in the fact that I would soon be able to huddle underneath a layer of heavy blankets. I looked up, finding my door in an instant—

Legolas stood in front of the room.

His eyes locked on mine.

And I froze, but only for a moment.

What are you doing here? He deems it okay to snarl at me and skip meal times because I happen to sit in the same room. So why does he think it's okay to wait outside my door?

His wide eyes glanced at the guard in front of me, then found me again. Something was different about him. His hair had been tied back as if he had been in a hurry. His stance was as if he was on alert, like everything in his body told him he had to be up and moving. His hand reached up towards his chest. It clenched the fabric there.

And then Legolas was striding down the hall towards me—

He pushed aside the guard. The elf came to a jarring halt before me.

I had to tilt my head up just to look into his eyes, to see his brows that were contorted in emotion. The anger in me sizzled out and I stepped back.

He paused, his mouth tightening slightly. Legolas held out a hand.

"Please, come with me."

I glanced at the guards as if they would help me. Slowly, I took his hand. I never knew hands could be so calloused, yet so gentle.

Almost immediately, his shoulders shuddered. And then he pulled me into my room and shut the door. I slipped my hand out of his.

After a moment of silent contemplation, with the hand I had held loose at his side, he turned towards me.

His eyes seemed so alive. They were alert, they were clear, they seemed to see all the way inside me.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. The dim light for the solitary lantern bounced off the smooth planes of his face, catching a few loose strands of his golden hair ablaze.

I could do nothing but stare at him. Sorry? Only yesterday he was snarling in my face, throwing what hope I had left in the air. And now he was sorry?

What made it worse was that he stood there, so unlike the ellon he was last night. Yesterday he was a storm cloud: dark and heavy and then suddenly breaking into lightning. And now... now he looked at me like I was something so tangible, something so real, like he was seeing treasure right before him.

"What?"

He held forward a thick envelope. I hadn't even noticed he had it.

Gingerly, I took it. My fingers grazed the rough paper of the package. There was no name, no address or family seal. Simply an envelope.

"I spent all of last night and today writing that."

My gaze snapped up to his.

He looked away. "I...I um... I'll leave you to it."

Legolas walked slowly to the door, placed a hand on the handle. "I hope you can forgive my behavior yesterday. It was uncalled for... I... well, you'll see. I hope that letter will make up for what I did."

He glanced at me again, as if desperately hoping I'd ask for him to stay. Hoping I'd ask him something else. Something that shone in his eyes.

I could do nothing but stare.

And so he left.

I glanced down at the package. An ellon, who just yesterday wanted nothing to do with me, wrote me a letter. And looked at me as if I was some valuable thing.

Having someone see you in such a way, like they knew you better than you knew yourself, it was scary.

But I slipped my finger inside the envelope anyway and popped the package open. A bundle of papers slid out, folded thrice upon themselves.

The bundle was several pages long, the thick parchment heavy. As if it carried the weight of its words.

On the paper was an elegant Tengwar script.

It was written by someone who had drafted letters all their life, who had a wrist that could perfectly execute any Tengwar scrawl in its sleep. It was the hand of a dignitary, a noble, not some ellon twisted by grief.

It began with Dear and then suddenly cut off, as if he could not even write my name.

I took in a deep breath before the plunge and settled onto my small bed.

And I began to read.

'I am sorry for the way I treated you earlier, however, I still cannot face a person who looks so much like her. You may in fact be the one I love, but for the moment, I cannot face that. I do want Lumornel returned to me though, and I know for that to happen, you must have her memories. But I cannot speak of them.

Lumornel once wrote down her thoughts in a journal, like you do with your notebook now. And now I think I truly understand why she did so. It is so much easier speaking into a piece of paper, bleeding what you want to say through ink rather than through noise. I think that makes me love Lum all the more.'

There was an ink blot here, as if he had held the quill down for too long. My fingers gripped the parchment a little tighter. Love. He loved me.

Even though I already knew this, it made my heart speed and yet it made it clench. I couldn't return the love he had for me. But knowing that someone did love me in such a way... it was heartbreaking and wonderful all at the same time.

'Lumornel was more than just a woman who fulfilled a prophecy; she was a star. She shone like one of Elbereth's jewels, and I do not mean with her power. She did not know it, but she did. Her overflowing kindness and love encompassed all those around her, and, unfortunately, her compassion led to the neglect of herself. She cared so much for others that she forgot to care for her own needs and well-being. She would sooner throw herself into Mordor for the people's sake before taking care of her own self. Which, I realize, she did.'

Mordor. I had thrown myself in Mordor? And that compassion, hadn't Gimli told me about that? I quickly rushed on.

'Lumornel also had the spirit of a child. Not childish, but rather in a free-spirited way. She always longed for blithe and amiable circumstances, despising the arguing of politics and always loved to adventure and see new things. She laughed at jokes that weren't funny and she smiled when it seemed one could not. She even once made a circlet of flowers in the midst of a bureaucratic discussion with my father. Despite being in the presence of the king, she placed that crown on my head and pretended as if she had not done it.

She did have a worrying spirit, which may have been borne out of her compassion. She feared letting down the peoples of Middle-Earth and feared that she was not enough for them. Which is entirely untrue. She also did worry needlessly over other things as well. She was afraid she'd say the wrong thing in a conversation or that bugs would crawl in her hair. She worried about her scars being seen and what people thought of them. She worried because she wanted to be perfect, I suspect. But she was always perfect to me, though if she were here now, she'd deny my words. And to her I'd say, imperfections prove that we are alive.

We met beneath the boughs of a tree. It was the sweltering afternoon of early summer and I was traversing the woods of my elfdom in search for some tranquility away from my princely duties. But as I walked in the shade of the trees, I heard a soft voice quietly reading to herself from above. It was Lumornel, her hair so white I thought for sure it was a cloud from the heavens. Her eyes so green, I thought it had to be a clear reflection of the leaves.'

My breathing stopped, fingers gently brushing the words of the memory. Then, as if I were a starving man, I continued.

'When I spoke to her, thinking she was simply visiting from a mortal realm, she nearly fell from the tree. Lumornel always did seem to have two left feet, but she couldn't possibly have any more grace.

It was in this moment that I first suspected her of being the prophecy-written, for Lumornel means tree shade. And her hair was of winter and her eyes were green. (This came from her prophecy, I've written it on a separate parchment. I'll send it to you with this letter).

Lumornel easily talked to me that hot day, I still remember the soft pink flush on her cheeks. She surprised me with her Sindarin, for she spoke it as easily as an elf. I soon learned that she had spoken it all her life.

Lumornel wasn't one for social gatherings, for she did not like to stick out. And as a mortal in the thick of elves, she would. Because of this, I became one of her first friends. How she did not manage to charm an ellon or man before me, I do not know.

I invited her into my home and brought her to my library. It brings a smile to my face even now thinking of how she looked like an elfling in a candy shop. Which reminds me, she once ate twenty-seven pieces of Esgaroth taffy in one sitting.

My father found us one evening and, like me, immediately recognized Lumornel for who she was. He ordered for her to be sent to Lothlorien. He didn't know what to do with a prophecy-written, but he knew Lady Galadriel and her wisdom would.'

He ordered me to leave? Who was he to order me around?

Who was Legolas the son of? Some high up noble-ellon?

My attention went back to the letter.

The letter continued on like this. He wrote about our journey to Lothlorien, my powers and true parentage, about the fellowship and its members. He even slipped in a sly comment about us holding hands. He confessed to when he first began to fall in love with me.

'I saw your compassion and determination. You did not see it yourself at this time, but I saw the warrior in you that would protect others at all costs. This woman was sweet and kind and funny. She was a Lady, albeit one that would trip and make jokes.'

He wrote about my first elven death and how it affected me. I couldn't ignore how he changed from using my name and the word "she" to using "you."

'We camped on Amon Hen. This is where our Fellowship broke. An orc pack attacked us. Frodo and Boromir were slain and you and the hobbits were taken.

This, I am afraid, is where I fell too. I was forced to take the Ring. I'm ashamed to write that it took me too. I became Morgalen, an elf who did not care for his friends and wanted nothing more than violence and to use the Ring to protect my people.

It was during this time that you'

The writing broke off mid sentence.

'I will not write about this time. Lumornel would not want to remember that.'

"No!" I gripped the paper, skimming ahead but there was nothing. Nothing about the time that undoubtedly gave me my scars.

He simply wrote about the ring corrupting him and who it turned him into. He told me about when I had tried taking the ring from him.

'I had become a monster as Morgalen, but still you tried to find me beneath the malice, despite the horrors you went through. Your eyes saw me when I wasn't even sure I saw myself. One night, you cornered me. You were determined to set me free from Sauron's tool. But the Ring didn't want you to have it, it knew you were strong enough to not use it and it knew I was weak enough to bring it to its master.

Because of this, the Ring used the connection it had built with me as a last act of defense. It flung something at you that should have made you kill me. Or at least flee in fear.

It showed you a memory. The Ring showed you when I had taken my warriors into the heart of Dol Guldur without the approval of the King.

And then you knew me for the murderer I am, you saw the elven deaths that are on my hands.'

I paused, glancing up from the elven script. Murderer?

'And somehow, you did not blame me. You never shied away. It was more than I deserve.

You were so forgiving, so willing to understand. You always saw the good in people. You may have been hesitant to talk to a stranger, but you always saw the innocence in them. It's what made you you.

Many would say that this quality is what made you the prophecy-written, that the quality was placed in you by the prophecy itself, but I say you didn't need a prophecy to make you into the caring, selfless woman you are.'

I bit my lip. I wasn't so caring now. I had been angry with Legolas, even now I became wary of him. He was a murderer? How had I been understanding?

Because, I thought, he's innocent. I knew without a doubt that if I truly was who Legolas was telling me I am, and I hadn't run from Legolas after seeing that memory, then he wasn't guilty of the things he thinks he is. Maybe, it's like me right now. I killed people at the Black Gate, but it wasn't me who had done it, it was Sauron.

I continued reading—

And blushed furiously, heat licking up my neck to the top of my head. He wrote about the time we kissed. It was so sudden that I couldn't help my embarrassment. He just barged right into the memory.

'As wondrous as that kiss may have been, you seemed to distance yourself from me after that day. I simply took this as your reaction to my past. I was wrong, however.

In Helm's Deep, you connected to the people. You kept watch with the women, trained a few children how to wield a sword, and bonded with a woman named Sunngifu. Again, many would say that this was the prophecy living through you, but it was simply you being you.

During this, an elleth named Duvaineth tried to end your life. She was in league with Sauron. After we captured her, she escaped.'

'Following this incident, I made my feelings known to you, despite knowing that we had shared a kiss. You rejected me then, saying that you were protecting me from the pain of your death.

Perhaps I should have listened, even when you later returned what was in your heart to me.'

Even though I couldn't remember it, I furrowed my brow in anger. Why hadn't I just told him what I felt then? Or maybe he was right, I should never have told him my feelings. If I hadn't, then maybe he wouldn't have ended up on so much pain.

Legolas continued to write about my time in Helm's Deep, revealing that even then I had had visions of what was to come. He told me about Sauron and how he had planned to use me to see Aragorn's plans. He wrote of our journey to Mirkwood and how we had become closer despite the tension between us and how I had pushed through my terror of knives to comfort him when he became injured.

And then--finally!--I returned my feeling for him

'It took me by surprise, what you did. You proclaimed your love for me and it made me the happiest ellon in Arda. I swore in that moment I could fly, I could take on a balrog single-handedly, I could do anything at all. I also swore that I would never let you go.

Those few weeks we journeyed to battle were the best weeks of my long life. I got to spend my time under the sun and stars with you. We rode horses next to each other, we sparred yet it always ended up with one of us on top of the other, our lips pressed together.'

I blushed again, though I smiled.

He moved onto writing about Echad Maeth and how I got injured, revealing my scars to those around us. What I had suspected was true; I had hidden my scars from the world.

'You reacted as one who went through what you did accordingly and I took you to my tent. I won't reveal much of what was said since it would reveal what had happened to you.'

I angrily sighed at the withholdment.

'Though, I did kiss your scars. I told you they were a testimony to all that you had gone through. Your scars spoke of your strength. What you so despise is what makes others inspired. They see the product of torment on your skin and then they see your eyes that still shine with light and the goodness that you exude and know that you did not let evil conquer you. All those who see the one who continues to smile whilst wearing a coat of scars are reminded that fear cannot overtake them.

You show people how to be brave, Lum. You show people how to be good despite all the corruption in the world.

You, meleth, showed me how to stand strong in the face of evil.'

I could imagine him here as he wrote this. He would've had to stop and breathe, blink away the tears that would have come to his eyes.

'And then you were taken. You had made a deal with Sauron: the ring taken from me and in exchange, you would control his fire-demons.

Really, the bargain should have been broken. It was you who had taken the ring from me, not Sauron. But that snake twisted his words. And you could not go back on the deal, otherwise you would die.

And so, Sauron finally had you.'

I held my breath as he described what happened next. The reason for why I was so feared and hated.

'The day of the battle came and you showed no sign of surfacing. But then, after an hour of fighting, Gwaraith appeared. Sauron had made another ring, one specially for you. The dark lord controlled you through this ring.

It made you control the uur rauko and made you kill many, many soldiers who fought for Middle-earth. But it was not you, Lumornel. It was Sauron, with all his malice, living through you.

Gwaraith almost tried to kill me and Gimli, but, you see, Gimli and I are stubborn. We refused to die.

Incidentally, I also refused to let Gwaraith kill more innocents. And so, forgive me, I cut the ring from your finger. It was the only way. The ring would not come off naturally.

This succeeded in vanishing Sauron from your body and you returned to you. Your body fought once again for the good peoples of Middle-earth. However, the damage was already done. Some of our soldiers tried killing you. We became separated soon after, so I don't know the outcome of some of those fights.

It was after this that Duvaineth'

For the second time, his writing stopped mid-sentence.

'Aragorn told me you did it for him. You told him to save himself, and therefore his people, yet he refused. He was going to fight that monster. But you cut him off and, most likely, saved his life.

You, my dear, are always saving people.

Though I treasure this characteristic of yours, I truly despise it too. It is what got you killed.'

There was a large break in the text as if he had taken a long respite from writing.

'Now that I've written this letter to you, my fea is desperately searching for yours. It is a pain that you can hardly imagine.

We did not marry, therefore our feas were not bonded together. We did fall in love, though, and with our closeness our feas became close. Our souls reached for the other and felt at home in the presence of the other. We could have felt each other from across the world.

When you died, your fea left middle earth, abandoning mine. My fea was left without its companion, it was starved from the comfort you gave it.

And that is what it feels like. My fea is constantly in a state of starvation. After a while, starvation and yearning morph into pain.

Though it hurts my fea to be reminded of you, it brings me a strange comfort to write down all that I have within these pages. It enables me to sort through all that I am feeling.

It's also made me realize, just now as I am writing this, that it wasn't simply agonizing pain that I felt when you returned. It was recognition.

My fea, it sees yours. After writing all this, it knows you are here.

My Lum, returned to me.

I'm sorry it took me several pages of parchment and a well of ink to realize that you returned to me.

I love you more than you can possibly know, Lumornel. I love you more than there are stars in the sky.

And now I must get up from this uncomfortable chair, find you, and pull you into my arms. And hopefully never let go. Though, I would like to see your eyes. So maybe I'll let you pull away, only for a moment.

Yours forever,

Legolas'

:::::

Goheno nîn, Brennil
⇾ "Forgive me, my Lady"

If any of my Sindarin is wrong, please let me know so I can fix. Thanks!

:D I wrote this in like five days! And spent the other two editing! I'm so proud of myself XD

Anywoo... ya like? I know I say this a lot but I wasn't expecting for Legolas to end the letter like that. And I know some of you are probably like "what do you mean you weren't expecting it? You're the author!" I know, I know, but I was planning on the letter going in a different direction but then Legolas just up and takes over. Guys, I can't control the characters I write. They are literally their own person in this head of mine. If I try to force them to do something (without the proper plot device to spur them on) then it just sounds... forced and wrong.

Also, if you want to read Legolas's letter to Lumornel in full, it's over in my "Tags and... more?" book. I didn't put it all in here because it wasn't needed. But I'm still giving it to you guys cause I know there's some stuff in there you'll like. (Specifically, maybe the part that made Lumornel blush so much lol)