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L U M O R N E L

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"Lumornel, you need rest," Legolas pleaded as I stood there, trying so very hard to hide my panicked anxiety. But obviously he saw right through it... though he mistook my rigid posture, my wringing of hands, and irregular breathing as residue left over from remembering Orthanc.

I still felt weary from that, more jumpy than usual, and found myself staring distantly off into space more but... Legolas's mother. She would be within the same walls as Legolas in less than an hour.

And I still hadn't told him.

All he knew was that I would be meeting Kaylessa's mother, bearer of some important information.

"No." I shook my head. "I have to go to this meeting." I bit my lip and looked away. "Aragorn and Kaylessa will be with me, I'll be fine."

He stared me down, unspeaking. With that immovable mask upon his features, I half worried he'd fall back into whatever reverie he had fallen into earlier. Then, it was as if he had sunk into some sort of depression, holding him beneath its heavy waves.

"Aragorn's presence does not guarantee your safety."

"Neither does yours," I said defiantly. He had to see that.

He clenched his jaw and glanced down the hall. "I will be waiting nearby."

I nodded. "You should have Gimli accompany you–" I stopped, then scrambled. "For, you know," I added hurriedly as I realized how damaged that made him sound, "company." I winced.

"I would have been upset if you hadn't embarrassed yourself more," he laughed. But the joyful tilt to his lips faltered as he braced himself to open the door to the meeting chamber. Well... a random, out of the way room we had decided to use.

He took in a deep breath, and, looking away from me, opened the door. "I will see you afterward."

It sounded almost like he was saying it to himself, an affirmation.

I nodded anyway and tried to offer him a smile, glad he was at least willing to let me do this without him. And maybe I can convince the Queen to just... forget her son? Oh, that's never going to happen.

But she had refused to see him for the past few hundred years.

I let my hand brush against Legolas's as I walked past, joining Kaylessa and Aragorn. The door closed behind me, leaving us with only the candlelight in the too-small room. There was only enough space in here for a circular table, at which Kaylessa and Aragorn did not sit at.

"Is he gone?" Kaylessa asked, meeting my gaze then eyeing the door.

"I believe he's going to get Gimli and then stay in a room in this hall."

She nodded, thoroughly looking out of sorts.

She's nervous, I realized. The strong, sister-to-Legolas warrior elleth is nervous.

After giving Legolas time to move towards Gimli's room, we left, curving around twists and turns, at times seeming to slope upwards, until we came to yet another entrance to the Western Hope. It was guarded by two lone soldiers and... was nothing more than a crack. Yet I could feel a frigid breeze whisper against my cheek.

"That," I said to Aragorn, "is an entrance?"

Kaylessa was already wedging herself into the wall sideways; she barely had three finger widths of space around her.

A wave of nausea overtook me.

"Are you afraid of tight spaces, prophecy-written?" She asked, an unbelieving—but not condescending—lilt to her voice.

"No," I whispered. I wasn't. I had no qualms with small areas, in fact, I'd rather be tucked away in a tiny cubby than in an open space. I wouldn't be trapped, but... oh that cold stone, on either side of me, barring me in.

"You may wait here," Aragorn offered politely, "if that be your choice. Kaylessa's mother is not far away. We should not be long."

I gulped and bit my lip. It was only a crack in the wall... I could go through that. But I still had the echo of pain on my back, my muscles aching from the tension I had held them captive in, and I had to keep blinking, telling myself I was in the Western Hope, not in the bottom of a tower. Why hadn't I just stayed with Legolas? The Queen can wait until tomorrow.

"Yeah—" I swallowed past the overwhelming dryness in my mouth. "Yes, I'll wait here or—" I glanced at the guards "—I could wait back in the room?"

He nodded. "We will see you shortly."

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The door to the quiet room opened and I hurriedly shoved my fidgeting hands under the table as Kaylessa entered... followed by a cloaked figure, posture strong and straight, all features obscured except for light, elven shoes. Aragorn closed the door behind Legolas's sister and the imposing figure, encasing the four of us in the quiet of the room.

I cautiously peered at the cloaked guest, the solidity of her form seeming almost unreal. She, the elleth my realm mourned and sang laments about, is right here in front of me. Though I could not see her face. Hidden, just like all images of her had been while the King had been consumed with grief.

And in the ever-shifting light of the candle, the Queen of Mirkwood lowered her hood.

Long, golden waves spilled down her shoulders as her unyielding azure eyes met my own. They were like aged diamonds, alluring and adamant. Strong and unbending. And unbearably weary.

She inclined her regal head in my direction, her thick lashes fluttering. "A pleasure to meet you, prophecy-written. A star shines on the hour of our meeting."

My breath caught at the very much real sound of her voice.

My Queen... alive.

My fists clenched on their own accord, a fire beginning to quietly brew within me. This elleth abandoned her son, left her elfdom to grieve for a queen lost and for their stricken prince and king.

Though I had not been alive when she had 'died,' I still had cried as my fellow elves had sung of our precious Queen. I remembered intensely wishing for my royal family to be complete, near stricken for the pain my King and Prince must have been in, left without the comforts of a feminine presence. How empty their home must have felt to them, despite the multitude of civilians milling about in their daily lives.

I bit my tongue and denied her a return greeting, though a flutter of anxiety bloomed in my gut at ignoring the wife of King Thranduil. But it was easily ignorable as the smoldering fire threatened to consume it.

Kaylessa stared intensely at me, her eyes dangerously alight with something other than the candle's flickering reflection.

"My mother," she said, voice like stone, "Queen of Eryn Lasgalen, is here to discuss matters of much import with you. I suggest you treat her as the valuable resource and royalty she is."

The Queen's gaze flittered to her daughter, then she rolled her eyes. "Kaylessa, behave yourself."

"I speak the truth, mother, and you know it."

"I do," Elellótë said, her lips turning ever so slightly up. "But that does not mean you must be a snob about it."

The princess opened her mouth to speak, then frowned, then scowled at me. I bit my lip to contain my smile.

Suddenly, the Queen's slight smile vanished, and she took a seat across from me. With the small, circular table between us, I felt like I was at some intimate dinner.

"I owe you an explanation." Briefly, her eyes went downcast, focused on the dark wood of the table, but soon they lifted to me. "And an apology."

I glanced at Aragorn, who had seated himself between the Queen and I. An apology.

It better be a good one.

I nodded for her to continue as Kaylessa took her place between her mother and me.

"What do you know of my death?"

Stories. "That you jumped into dragon fire to shield the King and fell off a cliffside with the dragon."

Suddenly, something did not feel right. The Queen bore no scars. "How did you survive?" I breathed. Forget the fall, the injuries from dragon fire should have killed her instantly. From what my parents had said, the King barely survived his own burns.

Elellôtë closed her eyes, then opened them to stare at a spot over my shoulder. Her eyes were distant, a feeling I found myself knowing well today. "Before the dragon, Thranduil and I had been staying in a small town we adored—"

"But I thought you and the King had been meeting with an ally?"

She shook her head. "That is what we told the public. We couldn't very well tell the elfdom that their King and Queen were running away for some time to themselves?" She laughed, bell-like and free. "It had taken three years of persuading to finally have Thranduil take us. The elf is as stubborn as he is fierce." She shook her head again, her eyes once again dimming.

"But after only three nights of our stay, orcs attacked. We had not brought many warriors, as we did not want many knowing the truth of our journey, and so we were easily overrun and I, and a few other soldiers, were taken. In the fortress—"

"You do not have to tell me," I whispered. No matter how angry I was at this strangely amiable elleth, I couldn't let her stray down that tortuous path.

Her deep blue eyes appraised me, something warm shining in them at my offer. "I do, for the secret of my survival lies within the fortress."

She took a deep breath and from the corner of my eye, I saw Kaylessa tense, her attention solely focused on her mother. I wondered if she had ever heard the full story.

"The orcs there were not without a leader. Sauron himself lodged in Gundabad for a short time, as all dark things are attracted to the dark, forgotten corners of the world. And as is such with the forgotten places, many have not heard of his stay there. But stay he did."

She paused meaningfully, drawing the candle closer to her, and with it, her audience. I found myself leaning in for more, realizing Legolas had not been exaggerating with his mother's storytelling skills. Though this was no story.

"There, in his fortress of old, the soldiers who had been captured with me and myself learned of his dark desire to follow in his old master's steps. Like Morgoth, he wished to create servants to wreak carnage upon the land, beings that would be stronger than orcs, things that would instill fear in the inhabitants of the land and thus have every living creature bow to his scepter. And so, he experimented."

My stomach lurched and my hand flew to my mouth on its own accord. All the while, she stared at the yellow flame between us, eyes far away as the flame danced upon its pallid tower of wax.

"We were the first of his trials, but he knew how to break elves and men. Such secrets had not been hidden from him when Morgoth had ruled from his dark throne; he knew how the first dark lord had mutilated elves into orcs and so he knew, at least he thought, how to turn us into his servants. But he was not a Vala, as Morgoth had once been. Because of this, he enlisted the help of one of the blue istari. Overcome with the desire to gain knowledge and power over life, the wizard readily aided Sauron in his dark venture, though he did not hold as much influence as Sauron himself did. And so, the spider and the fly began their allegiance readily, hastily spinning their web of greed and macabre."

Elellôtë, seemingly rapt unto the fire, dabbed her finger into a rolling drop of wax, rubbing it into her fingers as it hardened. She did not flinch.

"I had only been within their hold for three days, yet... The istari and Sauron broke us upon our first meeting, for he took what we elves cherish most: our fëa bonds." She closed her eyes, barring her enchanting irises from the world. "Together, they sundered my connection to Thranduil as one would sever a rope. I was left frayed, agonized, and without the connection I had built with Thranduil. Our bond had been forged apart, our fëar frayed and bleeding. I could no longer feel Thranduil's presence, nor him I. We were lost to each other. For all we knew, the other could be dead.

"The enemy took advantage of our then weakened minds, pushing himself into the cracks of our senses, forcing the breaches wide until they shattered. With our broken fëar and tortured minds, they began their experimentations. But I had been weak to the enemy's tinkerings and enchantments and so—" she thrust her finger into the flame "—I was changed."

"What—!" The exclamation was lodged in my throat as I sat up, staring at her burning finger in horror. Almost immediately, her skin reddened and puckered, emitting the terrible, terrible scent of burning flesh.

Aragorn jumped from his seat, and in one smooth motion, forced the candle away and took the Queen by her wrist.

"What are you doing?!" he hissed.

"I am showing you," she said, yanking her hand out of Aragorn's strong grip, "how I survived. Now would you stay seated and listen?"

Aragorn glowered, caught between his healer tendencies and her order. Finally, he sat down.

And the Queen put her finger in the fire once again. All I could smell was her burning. She clenched her teeth and tears sprung to her eyes. "They etched runes into our bodies, spoke powerful charms over our shattered minds, but Thranduil rescued me from their grasp before they could see the outcome of their quick work."

Her red skin turned somehow even redder, blistering and singeing. Her breathing, though ragged, did not hinder her telling, though tears freely ran down her cheeks.

"And then the dragon came, and I jumped into its flames to save my husband, not knowing what Sauron and his wizard had done. My sacrifice had cocooned my body into a multitude of burns. I was no longer an elf—I was a cooked slab of meat, barely breathing. The pain had consumed me, taking consciousness from me. Without our bond, there was no way for Thranduil, in the heat of battle, to know I was alive. And then, the dragon was defeated and its body fell from the cliff, taking me with him."

Elellôtë pulled her finger from the fire, holding it up before her. Raw, burned, and blistered flesh; wet and shiny from the damage.

"It was then, after I awoke, that I learned of what the Istari and Sauron had done to me."

Before my very eyes, the redness of her flesh receded and with it, the warping of her skin. The blisters closed, the skin smoothed out, and within a few minutes, the entirety of the redness had vanished. As if the burn had never been.

"Never before have I seen such a thing..." Aragorn stared in awe at the healed flesh. "Not even in the healing houses of Elrond."

The Queen tucked her fully healed hand away. "I only heal from wounds caused by heat or fire. So I sustained injuries from my fall.

"A man miraculously nursed me back to health, though whether it was due to the fall of the mental incursions of the enemy, my memories were, and still are, pocked with holes. Then, I could not recall my home nor my family. But as I searched my fëa inside me, I discovered I was carrying a child."

Elellôtë's eyes wandered to her daughter, lighting up as she saw her. "Over the years, things began to return to me. I remembered the green trees and beautiful caverns of Eryn Lasgalen and the swing I had played on as a child and the way the cool morning air from the tops of the trees had felt upon my cheek. It was many long years before I remembered I was Queen of such a joyful realm, more to remember my King and my... and my son."

That fire came to life again, Legolas's sorrowful face in my mind's eye. "Then why didn't you return?"

Her jeweled eyes met mine.

"Fear stops us all from accomplishing what we should. I did not have the memories of adoring people all those years ago. All I saw was an elleth who had led an innumerable amount of elves and did not know how to do that again."

"But you remember all that now," I pushed, voice like steel. Legolas was just a small elfling when she abandoned him. Kaylessa shifted in her seat, but I kept my eyes locked on the Queen.

She stared back defiantly, then bent to my will. Something in me cheered a little when she looked away, hungry for her to feel guilt for what she had done. "My husband is an ellon with a temper like none other."

"But you love each other, why don't you just go to him—" I cut off before I began saying things that I could not take back.

"I know that I love him," she said softly, "but I cannot remember the love he may have for me."

"Of course he loves you!" I exploded. "Valar! You cannot even begin to understand how much he loves you! You are a fool not to realize that—especially knowing you had not one but two—two—children with him! He—" I scoffed. "You do not realize the grief you placed upon him, upon your kingdom. On your own son."

I opened my mouth to say more but promptly shut it, crossing my arms with a huff and slumping back in my seat.

True remorse shone in the eyes of the Queen. "That is why I am here, to make amends with my son."

I clenched my jaw, then shook my head. "No. You can't see him."

Her eyes widened, then took upon a rigid appearance. She placed her palms on the table, then stood as one would before a petulant child.

"He is my son."

I straightened, my hands gripping to the chair's thick arms so tight they—they cracked. But I could see past nothing but her slight, blood alight with the rushing of hot fire.

"And you are his mother who abandoned him."

I felt, rather than saw, Kaylessa's incredulous expression. "Because she did not remember him!"

"But she did," I seethed, only looking at Elellôtë. "And she chose not to return to him. A mother who chose not to see her child because of fear of something else is no mother at all."

"Lumornel!" Aragorn exclaimed. "Calm yourself! Queen Elellôtë has explained herself willingly and with reason, I expect you to show her the same."

I turned on him. "You know just as well as me the hole she created in him when she supposedly died. You know that her deception is what helped him almost fade. She has some blame for his despair. She should not get to see him."

Stupid, traitorous, angry tears ran down my cheeks and I hurriedly wiped them away, only for more to follow. "Legolas does not get to see her, at least not while he is so fragile."

The Queen's breath caught. "What do you mean 'fragile?'"

I leveled my glare upon her, but as I did so, all the fire seeped out of me, leaving me cold and somehow even more weary. I slumped into my chair, melting into its seat. "After my death—my real death—he retreated into himself, or at least that is what I have gathered. But he would not have broken so completely if he were not already wounded from—" I caught myself, shook my head, and continued. "—from something dreadful and from the death of his mother and the repercussion's her absence caused."

"All the more reason to speak with him," she said quietly, then softer— "My little greenleaf."

I briefly raised my eyes to her grieving expression, but I suddenly and simply could not care. Her words were nothing, her words were my defeat, but they were a simple rush of air. My eyes unfocused and I stared into the nothingness, the dread and anger there, but they were behind a deep wall far away from me. I recognized them but could not touch them.

And I knew there was something deeply wrong with me for that, but I could do nothing but stare, too weary to think about it as phantom thoughts of a fearful Legolas and a yellow-robed wizard fleeted through my mind. Nothing around me mattered, in fact, I hardly felt like I was there at all. That was someone else's body sitting there in my spot, not my own. That was Aragorn sitting there, carefully hiding his worry but he was far away and I did not have the strength to return and reach him.

The Queen spoke to Aragorn and though I heard her words, their meaning left me.

But I knew what she had asked when Aragorn stood and departed with only a concerned glance my way, borne down the hall to retrieve a friend.

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Heyo! Just a reminder that there will be no normal update tomorrow, instead...

The TreeLeaf spar scene will be uploaded! But it will go up in The Unexpected, not here.

I'll also post the link to the story part on my conversation board.

Repeat: next week the update will be in The Unexpected. No normal update here.

Anyway, I hope you like the Queen! 😁

God bless,
~phoenix