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L U M O R N E L

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As we journeyed, an almost unbearable weight began to settle on my shoulders.

It was like all that I had pushed away while in Aman was returning. All the anxieties and pressures of my life here in Middle-earth, all the traumas and arduous worries came back. I could feel, then, that my time of reprieve was over.

In the undying lands, I had been able to forget my time as the prophecy-written. I had been able to lie beneath the silver willows of Lorien, watching contentedly as they swayed in the breeze. Or I had been able to wade into the depths of those glimmering lakes, made as if of pure star-light. There, I was able to relax. There were no people to save, no worries about what they would think of me should I fail. I had, simply put, lived a short life of serenity. Free from judgment, from the many who held me accountable for what would happen in their future.

In Aman, I had blessedly been a nobody, expected of nothing, doer of only rest. That is until a Vala or Maia came to pester me. Always, they had reminded me of what I was to do. But with that exception, I was free from thinking of my ultimate failure, my terror, my anxieties, the mantle—heavier than before—that I would have to take up again.

I was free from the sorrow that is Middle-earth.

Knowing this, Nienna also had instructed me to heal. By no means did I heal completely. Time is the only thing that can repair hurts. Time to work up the nerve to even think about tortuous things, then more time to confront it, time to come to terms with it, to not be fearful of it. Seven years, to be frank, is not enough to recover from torture. I barely thought about it, I simply couldn't. I'd rather get lost in bird songs and in the swaying of the leaves. Why think about such terrible matters when instead you could walk the serene gardens of Lorien? So, I had instead focused on healing from the moment of my death. I refused to come back home terrified of every fight, overcome with the nausea of fear that with every sword stroke I'd meet my end. Again.

After those seven years had blurred by, I had been confronted, yet again, of the burdens of Middle-earth. I had no clues as to how to help Middle-earth or how to defeat whatever enemy plagues it. I was just an elleth, just a mere life in the large scope of things. What could I possibly do?

I had asked the Valar just that.

Ulmo had smiled softly and stretched out his hand in a calming, knowing gesture. Light had bounced over the many droplets of water that made up his body. He was a creature of shining, scintillating light, echoed with the splashing and churning of faraway water. I had become close to him in my time in Aman, as he seemed to understand me better than most. Maybe because he was always one with water and it's many brooks and rivers, able to see things more intimately into Middle-earth than any of his fellow Vala. He knew me before the others.

'Do what you have always done', Ulmo had said while appraising me with a knowing, amused expression.

Varda had nodded at his words, her pastel lips turning up ever so slightly. Yet, that small, small smile illuminated her already bright countenance. Her ethereal light was calming and I would forever see it in the face of the moon. 'Do what is right.'

'And,' Nienna added, her grey-cloaked hands gently folded before her, 'never forget that there are more lives at stake than yours. Nobody, no matter how important, is the center of their own existence.'

And then I was sent back. And I could feel the weight of my duty more acutely than ever before.

I turned my gaze from the cold soil and onto the soldiers who walked in front of me, night's light shining coolly through winter's branches. It seemed to soak into their leathers, their hair, so that it could shine with a dull serenity. It immensely reminded me of Varda and the silvers of Lorien. These men were only a few of the many that I was to protect. And I felt it deeply within me to do just that. Similar, I imagined, to how a mother innately is moved to shield her children.

I may not know these people very well, but they were my people nonetheless, and I couldn't abandon them to the darkness the Valar told me was coming. To the darkness that seems to already be over us.

The last moments of my last life flashed before me and I gritted my teeth. I had failed them then, I had failed so many people. I left them to torment, I had killed many of them by my own hand. I didn't deserve the abilities and responsibility Iluvatar had placed on me. I didn't deserve it at all. I wasn't even sure how I was supposed to be the prophecy-written.

As my shoulders seemed to curve inward with every step, Legolas seemed to grow lighter. His hand never left mine, except for rare moments when it was necessary to part. With every step we took, it was like he became more and more aware that I was truly there. He would turn my way and shock me with a glittering smile or pin me with serious, protective eyes or, sometimes, he would capture me with a longing so familiar I couldn't help but echo it back.

More than anything I wanted to be in his strong, familiar arms. While Aman had been restful and had helped me come to terms with the horrors of my death, those ethereal lands had not been as familiar and warm as a loved one's embrace. As Legolas's embrace.

With all the time I had had thinking about him, I realized just how much we were truly meant to be. It felt like he was my other half, and when we were apart, it felt like I had a missing limb or like my smile couldn't quite reach it's most brilliant peak. We were fated to be. That much was written in the stars.

I desired nothing more than to take hold of him again and nuzzle into his love, torn between simply wanting to be nestled into his side, never to leave, or to press my lips against his again, to feel the passion between us in it's tangible form.

But we had not yet stopped to rest, so Legolas and I had not been granted time alone. The night was wearing heavily on, and Aragorn was taking us a longer, more secluded way back in an attempt to lose the enemy, should they be following us. Already, I could see several of our companions droop with fatigue, their limbs heavy and catching on late autumn's forgotten leaves.

That weariness felt familiar, though I was not tired, but... I was an elf! I had only been given this body a few years ago, once Mandos had deemed I was ready, but now that I was here in the land of my home, it felt different. Having an elven body in Aman felt like a dream, but here it was a reality. I was in a familiar land... but was sensing it with elven senses. I could hear more clearly, the night's darkness didn't seem so pressing and obscuring, my feet made hardly any noise! I could feel the trees, just barely, but their ethereal and earthy notes still sang softly in ancient tones. I could just barely feel the hint of worry and excitement within their boughs and their slumbering tunes of sleep, just hardly feel the praise they sang to the One that gave them life.

Legolas gave me a puzzled expression at the wide smile that covered my face. "What?"

"I can feel the trees."

He grinned, sending a happy thrill through me, and pulled me closer to a large, twisting tree. He took the hand he was holding and pressed my palm against it's rough, grooved bark. Then his hand ran along the length of my arm, as if not quite wanting to lose physical connection with me, and sat both of his hands on my shoulders.

He leaned closer, his chest touching my back, and set his mouth next to my newly sensitive ear.

"Close your eyes," he commanded. I did so, trying not to shiver at the closeness of his words, the breath that caressed my ear. "Focus inward. Can you sense your fëa?"

I furrowed my brows. All I sensed was my frustration. "No."

"Look deeper." He paused. "Not with your emotions or your mind, but with your being. Sink into yourself and you will feel it."

I tried doing what he said. I let loose a breath and relaxed my muscles and... let myself drift. At that moment, Legolas whispered something and I felt a slight nudge. Not physical... but within—

I gasped. I could feel my fëa It was a glittering light, the many shining threads of what made me me. It wasn't simply a soul, it was who I was, the very essence of my being. My fëa was part of something more profound than earth and body, it was proof of Iluvatar, it was what tied me to the music of His world. Not the world of Middle-earth and the wickedness that lies in it, but His world of love and righteousness and justice and peace. I became aware that I was part of something bigger than just me, something expansive and never-ending. Something comforting and certain, something abundantly full of loving-kindness. And I was connected to all that, like a piece of thread woven through a great, masterpiece tapestry.

It was the most surreal and moving thing I had ever felt.

I opened my eyes, and still, I felt connected to the more-than-real thing that made me up. My body suddenly felt livened. As if I had come alive in almost every way. I felt stronger, balanced, and more centered. My bones suddenly awoke and knew of their quiet strength, my muscles of their endurance that could last a thousand ages. My elven senses became more rooted and focused. I could feel Legolas's fëa behind me and all the fëa of our companions who had continued moving, not realizing we had stopped. This wasn't a facet of the powers given to me, no, this sixth sense was something wholly unique to elves.

And then, the trees became alive.

I could hear the song in full, perhaps more deepened by the hand I had on one. But my fëa could feel the tree's souls and how they were weaved into the music of Iluvatar. They sang praises unto Him and they sang of the goings of folk who traveled under their boughs. Perhaps their song felt slightly dampened, but that was because of the winter's rest that lay upon them.

Wide-eyed, I twisted and turned to Legolas, who grinned brightly. I could see his fëa, not with my eyes but with something other. Perhaps I could not touch it, but I could feel his presence in a very profound way.

Words escaped me.

"H-how?"

"This is who you are Lum, this is the way of elves. We live connected to the ways of Iluvatar and are therefore familiar with our souls."

"But... how?" I motioned to myself with emphasis.

Legolas took hold of my hand again, his eyes twinkling. "I only helped you reconnect to your fëa."

I felt as if I could float around and do amazed somersaults, stopping only to wonder again at the majesty of Iluvatar and the way I was now linked and interwoven with the natural world. Everything felt more vibrant, alive with a new, almost magical, air.

He chuckled, then placed a light kiss on my cheek, and led us to our group.

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The moon was well past its zenith when we settled down to rest. There were to be three short watches over the course of a few hours. Legolas offered to take the second, I took the third, and the only other elf, who I learned did in fact have a name—Tirithan—took the first.

I found myself amused by the elf-watch gang. But I knew the mortals needed their rest. Mortals. Not too long ago I was one of them.

Legolas and I found our way to the outskirts of the group, finding a place out of sight but easily findable for when Tirithan would awake Legolas. Said elf sat himself against the base of a tree and I comfortably settled into his side, my head against his warm shoulder. I took his hand in mine and carefully inspected the way my own elven hand intertwined with his. Pale, long fingers. His hands made for arrows, mine for swords.

"I'm so happy to be back with you," I whispered, setting our hands down in my lap. "Seven years is too, too long—arg! Nine years. Sorry. I keep forgetting."

I felt him stiffen. "What do you mean?"

I shook my head. "I'm not forgetting anything again. I just mean, it's hard to connect the past two years with myself, it's hard to remember from that time too." I paused, feeling him relax, and began playing with his long fingers. "I was in Aman for seven years, that I remember clearly. But then, when I came to Middle-earth, I lost my memories. I had no idea who I was or where I was. All I knew came from my bracelet and your bow. And even that was just guesswork—" I stumbled to a halt, the words then rushing out of me with force as I realized something. "Did you get your bow back?"

"Yes, Elrohir returned it."

I almost pouted, yet was extremely relieved to hear it had been taken care of properly. "I should have kept it."

He chuckled. "Would you like to keep it? I haven't had the bow in my possession for a long while, it now makes no difference to me whether or not it continues to not be in my hands."

"No!" I said appalled, then quickly lowered my voice. "No. It wouldn't be yours then, it'd be mine."

"But... do you not want it to be yours?"

"No, I want it to belong to you, so I can steal it."

He sat in stunned, confused silence for a moment, reaching for words to say. "Then... I'll just have to keep the bow-feud going."

I smiled. "Perfect."

Legolas's thumb gently caressed the back of my hand. It was the single most comforting thing I could imagine, especially after long years without his presence. It was like... like standing in the shade after a good, long productive work with a gentle wind on a slightly too hot day. Comforting, steadying. Welcome.

"Why were you returned with no memories?"

I frowned. "I'm not sure myself. Lady Varda did tell me that I would have to face a trial when I awoke here. I'm assuming that's it. But I wasn't told why, even when I asked."

Legolas mused for a moment, thinking in a way that was tangible. I could almost feel the way the gears turned in his head. He was methodical, contemplative. The way a general over armies should be. The thought of it, of him standing in a war tent, hunched over a candle-lit map with a handful of skilled warriors around him sent a delightful chill down my spine. He was strong and capable and intelligent. I liked it.

"It must be a lesson of some sort to prepare you for what lies ahead. It couldn't have been a side-effect of your reincarnation. Glorfindel and Luthien had no such aftereffects. That I'm aware of."

"But what could a two-year memory loss prepare me for?"

"Exactly." The thumb and forefinger of his free hand, almost subconsciously, rubbed together as if trying to ignite an idea within his thoughts. "It wasn't simply memory loss. Yes, you had forgotten completely of your previous life, but you didn't simply start anew. You kept losing the memories that you made. That is not typical amnesia, I believe, nor is it a rational way to... well, anything. If the intent was to start your life anew, then further loss of memory makes no sense. If it was to make a point of something, the same statement still stands. Maybe you knew something that you shouldn't have known, but then why return your memories? It's possible it was a way to test you... but for what? And why test you in the first place?"

His brow furrowed in frustration. "It may be that the Valar were testing your natural intentions, to see if you were to stray from your good tendencies, but I do not believe that to be the case. Iluvatar would have known you and how you would innately behave before you were conceived. I don't think He would have chosen someone He didn't know before gifting them with the abilities that you have."

Legolas finished his musing, the confused contemplation resting across the planes of his face. Still, the swift gears behind his eyes churned and spun away, thinking everything through, before pulling himself out of his thoughts and turning back to me.

I stared up at him in awe.

To my surprise, a little bit of rose tinted his cheeks and he chuckled, more out of nervous embarrassment than anything else. "Forgive me, my father always told me I tended to ramble when thinking out loud."

"I think it's wonderful. You should do it more often."

"Hmmm," he mused, pulling my hand to him. I idly wondered if he was drawing the moment out to rid himself of the embarrassment. "Just in front of you. I'm afraid it's terribly undignified of a prince to ramble in front of dignitaries."

I laughed. "Okay, I think I can live with that."

A comfortable silence descended upon us. I would have thought he had fallen asleep if it weren't for the occasional caress of his thumb. Sitting there next to him after all that time, I thought of my death, how I left him. I thought of all the time we had before. Meeting him under a tree, in the shade of Mirkwood. Journeying with him to Lothlorien and getting to know him as a person, seeing his everyday habits, seeing him wake up, that groggy look he always had in his eyes—well, usually he had to wake me up, but that's beside the point.

I remembered missing him terribly in Lothlorien, the joy I felt at finally seeing him again. I bit my cheek as I thought of when I was rescued from Orthanc, the shadow of my torture tainting what should have been a good moment. Legolas tainted by the Ring. Legolas unguarded in the shadow of a long ago, terrible memory. And then him renewed and his sad smiles. Him kissing me in an abandoned kitchen.

Rohan, my rejection, and a certain bow. His teasing when I was injured, pretending I was Lumornel's twin sister Fine. I remembered journeying home and laying beneath the stars, waking up to nightmares, both his and mine.

I couldn't help but smile as I thought of the way he had smiled when I told him I wanted to be with him. His grin had literally made the forest brighter, greener and happier. With that smile came the journey south when we were free to hold hands and steal kisses, free to, when no one was watching, spar and end up in a heap, lips on the others'.

But my smile downturned as I thought of my last night with him. Echad Maeth and Corchion, my scars and his gentle kisses on them. Me, beat and bloody and surrounded by orcs, seeing his desperate search among the fighting.

"I'm sorry," I blurted. "For leaving you."

His thumb stopped its gentle movement. "I know, but I'd rather not think about that just yet."

"No," I shook my head. "Not my death—I mean, I am sorry about leaving you through death, but what I meant was, I'm sorry for leaving before that. When we were traveling away from Mirkwood."

"You were taken," he stated, voice hard.

"...No. I..." I took in a deep breath. "I gave myself over to them. I saw the death they were causing and I knew it was because of me." I gripped his hand tighter and looked down, seeing that beautiful ellon with the brown hair dead, blood running from the deep gash in his throat.

"Even though I was human, the elves of Mirkwood were and still are my people, Legolas. I couldn't just stand there and watch them be killed, knowing that if it weren't for me, they'd be alive. I had to turn myself over. I wouldn't be able to live with myself knowing I stayed and fought and watched more elves die because of me."

He was silent and his hand in mine seemed to turn to living stone. Cautiously, I peeked up at him. His countenance was hard and fierce and yet somehow unreadable. But it was easy to see the anger burning like an ember. I shrunk down into myself.

"I'm sorry," I squeezed his hand harder, "but I couldn't let our people die. I had to do whatever I could to prevent that."

"I understand."

Though his voice was strained, I wilted with relief—

"But please, never do anything like that again. I—" He broke off, his voice barely containing the fury that I knew was boiling beneath. Finally, his gaze met mine, his blue eyes alive with anger, hurt. "We could have stopped Sauron together, we could have—I could have protected you—I—"

He broke off, turning his pinning gaze away. I had never seen him at a loss for words. He was always my eloquent, well-spoken prince.

"That day," he finished, "I never want it repeated."

I nodded, but still, I knew that if it came to it, it would always be my people over me.

Legolas returned his gaze to me and gave a defeatist laugh. It was empty, sad. "I have no hope in changing your ways, do I?"

I smiled weakly.

He sighed heavily and shook his head. "That's good, I suppose. You'd make a lousy prophecy-written if you weren't self-sacrificing. Or..." a slow smirk crept onto his face "... are you Lumornel's twin sister Fine."

I gasped, remembering when he had made me so angry that I had managed to walk on my then still-healing leg. I slapped his arm. "Legolas!"

His smirk turned ever more smug, his eyes alight with mischief. "You know, there are people sleeping... they may just wake and wonder why you're gasping and yelling my name."

In less than a quick breath, a deep blush blossomed all the way up my neck, over my face, and warming my ears. I buried my flaming face in his shoulder.

"You," I whispered, "are a terrible elven boy."

He laughed. "I'm sorry, but the opportunity was too perfect to pass."

I punched his arm—more like weakly tapped it with my fist. "You better shut up or... or they'll wonder why you're laughing... and... and what opportunity you didn't... miss... oh I'm terrible at quirky, totally inappropriate remarks."

He laughed again but managed to keep it quiet this time. "Centuries of being in the guard taught me my innuendo." He paused. "I'm also told I get it from my father."

I gaped. "Who told you that?"

He tittered. "An older captain who had fought closely with my father. I thought he had still been detained by a group of fledgling soldiers, but he had been standing behind me as I made the comment and my peers only laughed behind their hands." He rolled his eyes skyward and as I watched, he rubbed the back of his neck. "It had been like being caught by an old family member."

"What in Arda did you say?"

"It'll only make you blush," he teased, raising his brows.

"Probably," I shrugged, I was totally clueless and innocent when it came to dirty comments. Living with only my parents and having no friends had given me that. "But I'm curious and I want to know—hey was that—"

Right at that moment, there was a startled yell and the sound of something heavy hitting the ground. In an instant, Legolas and I were on our feet and around the tree—

And one of the soldiers had tripped over his sleeping comrade in his venture to relieve himself. He was a heap on the forest floor, grumbling to himself as the other groggily swatted his feet away. A few others sat up, alarm wiping away the sleep in their eyes before they beheld the situation. A few laughed and poked fun, some just blinked wearily and almost immediately fell back asleep. Tirithan sat amused from where he idly lounged on the low branch of a tree, his eyes full of laughter.

The man clambered to his feet, and still muttering, staggered off into the thick of the trees. I think he was still half in the fogs of sleep because he only walked a dozen feet, his back still half in view before relieving himself. I quickly turned away.

"Well!" I lightly hopped over the sleeping men and approached Tirithan. "We'll take over your watch so you can rest. If you want."

"Will you not be sleeping tonight, hiril vuin? You have third watch."

I shrugged, but Legolas stepped up and spoke before I could. He glanced at me, a smile on his moonlit lips.

"I'll personally see to it that she sleeps, Tirithan," he said, eyeing me with no small amount of amusement. He practically purred when he added, "I'll make sure of it."

I turned beet red again. Was there no end to his suggestiveness? Did he have a stop button?

As if sensing my thoughts, and after Tirithan had jumped down and found a place to settle, Legolas leaned closer. "Once you get me going I can't stop."

Face now an actual fire, perfectly capable of roasting a chicken on a spit, I grabbed hold of the branch and swung myself up. "You. Are. Absolutely. Terrible."

"Alright, I'll stop, but you'll—"

I held up a hand to his smiling face, level with my shoe. "If you say one word about me needing to make you stop, I will happily kick you in the face. Now, get up here, you dirty scoundrel of a prince." I scowled at him. "You need a good washing in a river."

He burst out laughing but quickly tried to stifle it. "Was that you're attempt at—"

"No! And I really will kick you!"

He hoisted himself up. "You wouldn't, you like my face too much."

"Try me."

"Okay." His grin was absolutely boyish, giddy with the insinuation.

I sat there, bewildered. What was up with him! He was never like this! At least not this dirty! I settled him a fierce look, then shuffled forward until I sat in front of him. And I bopped him right in the forehead.

"There. That was your kick."

His smile drifted into something a little less mischievous and more... happy. Simply happy.

He leaned forward and kissed me briefly.

"W-what?" I sputtered. "You don't get to do that, not after—"

Legolas kissed me again, then quickly kissed my nose, my cheek, my forehead, all over my face before finishing once again on my lips. It was quick as fire, rapid succession.

"What are you doing?!" I whisper yelled, struggling to keep my voice low. "Are you drunk or something?"

"Yes," he said. "On you. I've decided, finally, that you are indeed back to stay. You are not some grief dream, nor will you wisp away with the wind. You are here, really and truly here.

"And," he kissed my nose again, bopping it with his lips as something in me melted at his words. "I love you too."

I smiled, but pulled back to look at his gleeful countenance. I hadn't said anything resembling those three words.

His eyes seemed to twinkle. "You said you loved me earlier today. More than Luthien loved Beren." He looked down and took my hand. "It was the first time you said those words to me... and the first time I've said them to you."

My lips parted. "...Oh... I..." I bit my lip. "I guess I had thought we already told each other that. I mean... the way we acted around each other and all the sweet things you've said... It felt like we already knew."

"Yes, true. But knowing and hearing are two different things."

I rolled my eyes, mostly because I wasn't sure what to say to that, and shooed him to the base of the enormous branch. I cuddled up to him, trying my best to simply rest against him.

We quietly talked the night away, speaking softly, laughing airily. We spoke of everything yet of nothing at all. And we didn't dare touch on the personal happenings of the last nine years.

And finally, when I could no longer bear to keep my eyes open, I drifted into sleep, content in the safe embrace of Legolas's arms.

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Almost considered not updating today out of respect for Sir Ian Holm, the actor who played Bilbo Baggins in Lord of the Rings. He sadly passed away today 😔

But I figured we could all use a bit of normalcy in our lives so 🤷‍♀️

And just in case Wattpad decides to continue to be stupid, I'll announce it here: I've dedicated this part to Sir Ian Holm.

Also, it's a tie between updating New Dawn on either Mondays or Fridays so it's gonna stay Fridays for awhile... unless someone else happens to say they want Mondays.

Anyways, off to listening to the 'Writing Excuses' podcast because I have no idea what I'm doing story-telling wise 😂 (I mean, I do. So don't worry. But I can feel that something is missing so I'm trying to figure out what it is before we get to what ever it is)

EDIT: YEAH SO HI AGAIN. I FORGOT TO THANK THE TWO AWESOME PEOPLE WHO HELPED ME WITH A PART IN THIS CHAPTER EVEN THO I LEFT A MASSIVE NOTE SO I WOULDNT FORGET: thank you @Fire_Elleth and loteriel_greenleaf for all your help🥺

God bless,
Phoenix