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L U M O R N E L

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The stars were bright and the breeze soft and cool and still I could not rest. Angry, I sat up from my makeshift bed—a blanket that hardly kept the ground's coolness from seeping into me. The other's slept soundlessly—with the exception of one man's grizzly snores.

Out of the three elves who were with our company, one was me, one rested nearby with his eyes open and dreaming, and the other... Legolas sat on watch, resting on a felled tree. His hands mindlessly fumbled with that small arrow he took everywhere and...

His moon-lit eyes were already on me, questioning.

I glanced around, as if everyone wasn't already deep into sleep, and silently made my way to him. As I settled next to him on the cold tree, he raised a brow.

"Couldn't rest," I whispered. "My mind is flying in circles and besides, I feel like I could have kept walking for hours."

Legolas nodded briskly, looking away. His hand tightened around his arrow.

"... What?" I had a knack for unknowingly bringing something up from the past, and although I could instantly see the pain in Legolas's figure, I couldn't help but ask. Legolas had said that he had told me about who I was, even claimed he wrote a letter, though I couldn't remember. Something in me twisted with guilt—I was probably asking the same painful things over and over again. But it wasn't my fault I could only remember back to a week and a half. I couldn't even recall upon the caves we had come from, though I knew the place to be called the Western Hope.

He shook his head softly, gazing out at the dark, slumbering lumps of bodies before us. The moon filtered through the skeletal branches, illuminating their blankets and the grass around them in an ethereal, silver glow. Through the energy circulating around us, I knew that they were all asleep. "You used to be like them: of the race of Man, tired. Now you are an elf, capable of walking tirelessly for days."

He looked down at his hands, speaking softly. "So much has changed."

I bit my tongue, nodding, but not really understanding. The darkness seemed to press down on Legolas, hunching his shoulders, robbing him of his light. His fea, compared to the other elf's at least, seemed dimmer, less vibrant. It didn't shine quite as brightly through his eyes, nor did it rejoice quite as gaily. Maybe it was simply the difference in their personalities but... I didn't think that was it. His fea seemed wounded. Scarred.

"Hey," I said, desperate to pull him out of the pain, "I—"

—Had no idea what to say. Lumornel, you really should think before you speak.

But his eyes were on me. True, he seemed to only be looking out of the corner of his vision, but he was expecting something.

I opened my mouth, closed it. Opened it again. "I... I really appreciate the journal. Thank you."

His shoulders hunched again, he nodded his you're welcome.

I bit my lip once more, sighing and slipping down off the trunk to instead rest my back against it. The journal he had given me already had a plethora of writing entries in it, dating back a few months. Apparently, I had once written those entries and, somehow, the journal was taken from me. Legolas had stolen it before we left the Western Hope, though I couldn't remember leaving or even its cavern halls. Every time I pulled the journal out, just to skim through lost past experiences or even add a few words, Aragorn would smirk or shake his head, casting a sly, sometimes disapproving, glance at Legolas. Still, I tried to hide the journal from him, at least turning away when I rifled through lost memories.

My head leaned back against the tree, tilted to the canopied sky. Bare branches did hardly anything to obscure the glittering fabric of night. A constant heaviness weighed down whatever lightness wanted to be buoyant in me. I wanted to smile and laugh and even dance around in the grass, but I couldn't bring myself to do it.

Death was coming soon to me, once again. And I could do nothing to stop it. Unless I could find something strong enough to trigger my past.

My fingers absently ran across the many hard ridges along my arm.

"Legolas..."

I closed my eyes, holding my breath for a moment. I didn't want to cause him more pain but...

"Where did my scars come from?"

He jerked, straightening where he sat.

"Lumornel would not want to know." The tightness in his voice gave it away. I had asked this before.

My nails dug into the rough skin of my arms.

"Please, it... it may be a strong enough memory to trigger something."

He closed his eyes and seemed to hardly breathe, an internal war seemed to rage within him. Those lids opened once again and he shook his head.

"No, the Lumornel that once knew of that time would not want to remember it."

"Please." I laid a hand on his leg, trying to grip the answer right out of him.

He only stared at me, lips in a hard line.

I sighed, angrily sitting back. If I had been human, the force of my back hitting the tree would've hurt. I could feel the absence of my past like a cold void, just at the back of my mind. Like it was escaping, leaving behind a cool trail to prove that it was even there.

After a moment, Legolas settled down next to me. His shoulder was so close, I could feel the warmth emanating off of him. But he didn't touch me.

I threaded my fingers through the long grass, somehow still growing despite the cold, and fisted my hand. The greenery popped from its roots.

"You were tortured by a wizard named Saruman."

I froze—then whipped my head to face him. It wasn't a surprise—only torture could give me the number of scars that I have.  But it was a surprise to have him tell me.

"And...?"

He rubbed his neck, looked up to the trees, and closed his eyes hard. His breathing went shallow, if he was breathing at all. His lips parted. My own brows furrowed... had he been tortured with me? This wasn't the reaction of someone who had simply befriended a victim.

"I don't know much of that time," he finally said, voice a whisper. "For you didn't tell me."

Great, my secretness with be my downfall. Wonderful. If possible, I scolded my old self. And yet... I had been so hurt, so tormented... I couldn't even speak of it to the one I loved.

Somehow, that motivated me even more to learn of that time.

"I must have told you something, at least little hints of things."

His blue gaze connected with mine and his hand moved, reaching for my own, then dropped back to his lap empty. "He wounded you where clothes would cover... I believe his favored tool was the knife, as it would explain your fear... He knew the thought of what lay just out of sight would torment you. And he was right, there wasn't a day that I didn't see you pull on the ends of your long sleeves or see you without socks. Your neckline was always overly modest, never dipping low enough to catch what lies unseen. He..."

His jaw clenched, his fists too. He averted his eyes, so I wouldn't see the livid fury dancing within them. But it was too late, I saw and the scars tingled.

"He branded you—but you are not his. Never, never his." He turned to me, moon-pale hair shifting over his shoulders. "You belong to yourself."

"And to you," I whispered.

His eyes widened.

I shook my head and shrugged, averting my gaze from his. "I can see that, even if I may not remember. The same way you must have belonged to me."

He said nothing for a moment, letting the cool breeze ruffle his golden hair. The light snores of that one soldier rose loudly before once again settling down to a low rumble.

"I only ever saw your scars four times. And only once was it your choice to show me. Two times you were either injured or ill and the last time I had rolled up your sleeve myself. I'm not even sure if all the fellowship knows about your scars. Aragorn does and I believe the others suspect... While we traveled to Rohan you, on occasion, awoke screaming and you also had reacted badly to Mithrandir."

"Why?"

"He was a wizard and was once in league with Saruman."

"Oh..." Somehow, my fingers found their way to my wrist, touching the ridges just under my sleeve. "What else did he do?"

He clenched his jaw again. "I know he pulled out your toenails."

My hand shot to my throat, nausea rose.

"You weren't alone in your torment, there was an elleth named Melnare that was your light. She helped anchor you. Though, that is what I have gathered on my own."

A friend... "Where... where is she now...?" Is she...

An image of a faceless elleth arose, pale and bleeding on the cold ground.

"I do not know. I never saw her after we left Rohan. She may have sailed west... or possibly ventured to Lothlorien to see her son. Though, I think I would have heard news if she had—"

He grimaced. "But maybe I wouldn't have."

Oh... I could almost imagine him hurt and devoid of anything but grief, unresponsive to everything and everyone. I shied away from the image.

"Is there anything else...?"

He hesitated.

"Yeeesss...?" I prodded.

Legolas scowled at me. "I'm not sure how well you will respond to it."

I gave him a pointed stare.

He sighed. "Saruman tormented you in order to bring forth the darkness."

I froze, a cold brick plummeted into my stomach.

"It was not of you," he said quickly, almost harshly. "The darkness was never a part of you."

"But..." I gritted my teeth, remembered the anxious stares of our traveling companions. "What about my light?"

"Your gift is of you. You are good, Lumornel. You were never evil. The only time you acted out of malice was when Sauron placed that ring upon your finger."

I nodded, remembering back to what I read yesterday. But still... a darkness within me.

I settled back, quiet. "Anything else?"

"Nothing that you told me."

I grimly nodded once more, turning my face away from his ethereal one. I could still feel his soft gaze upon me, could somehow feel his worry, but... I waited.

I settled deeper into the grass, the tree, and stared past the slumbering soldiers, past the swaying grass, and even past the cold, dark night. It all blended together. And still, I waited.

But no memories came.

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:P Sorry for the short chapter. For those of you that keep up with my conversations board, then you'll know that I was in the middle of writing what I thought would be chapter 22 when I remembered that I completely forgot about the scene you just read. So... I wrote it... I thought about combining part of what I already wrote with this chapter but... it didn't feel right. So sorry this chapter is so short.

Anyways, the stuff I am really excited about is happening next chapter (hint hint: next chapter is when the story actually begins wooooooooo) Good news for you all is that around 1/3 of the chapter is already written, I think I'm close to being halfway done... maybe... but chapter 23 is longer than usual too. so. *shrugs*

Also... *asks tentatively* any twilight fans...? I'm rereading the books for the first time in six years and, well, it's interesting lol and I definitely did not reread it because of the new book that is coming out. And I promise that wasn't sarcasm 😂

Anyways, hopefully see you at the end of a chapter soon, happy early Memorial Day (*points like an over-protective mother* go thank a service member for their, uh, service and remember those who died)... and as always...

God bless!