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L E G O L A S

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Lumornel's leaf-green eyes flicked from my mother to me, her stone-set expression lifting into a weak smile. Then, she slid out of the room, the door softly clicking shut behind her. In her place was an itching grip of cold panic.

The weight of nearly three thousand years settled over the room, as heavy as a wet woolen cloak.

"Legolas, dear."

The Queen of Mirkwood, or rather Eryn LasGalen, as she had never come to know it by its ill-gotten name, reached for my hand. Her fingers barely grazed mine before she pulled away.

Elellótë's golden hair—an oddity amongst the Silvan—ran like rivulets of molten gold over her shoulders. Some of my earliest memories were in her arms, reaching for her resplendent tresses as she cooed endless endearments. Unlike the other ellith of the court, she had worn only two small braids at her temples to free her vision from obscuring hair. Now, she wore her hair without such simple adornment.

I longed for the cover of my title to hide me but I was bare before her.

"Legolas, I am sorry I did not return sooner."

Finally, I met her eyes and searched her face. Instead of a smile, her face bore concern and such a heavy weight. She was my mother and, somehow, not. Though my fëa recognized the elleth that bore me, she was a stranger. Yet, those were the lips that had once sung me to sleep and had playfully kissed my nose.

Had she returned to me before "murderer" was added to my title, I might have been infuriated with her. But now, there was no anger. At least none towards her. While she might have stopped me from venturing into Dol Goldur, I couldn't be angry towards someone who underwent torture and was too afraid of the curious and accusatory eyes that waited at home. I understood the feeling far too well.

My gaze settled on her hands, the pair that had held me so long ago. Sitting here before her, I felt so bare. A child once again. And for a reason unknown, it made me bitter.

A cold laugh crawled its way up my throat. "I'm not used to Illuvatar returning lost things to me."

Her silence beckoned my eyes up. Her brow furrowed.

"Father, Lumornel, and yourself were taken from me. The ring tricked me into believing Adar was dead," I explained. "I returned home to find him alive and well. Lumornel had been killed. Then, nine years later, she returned to me. Now I find that you're alive as well."

Her hand slinked to my lap and she took my hand in hers. "Not every blessing is an adversity, ionneg."

I shook my head. "How can such things feel like blessings in the shadow of so much pain?"

"Sometimes Eru walks us through difficulty to strengthen us. Sometimes he does it to show us how much we need him—because he knows we will have so much more peace if we rely on him and understand he is in control. Other times, adversity falls on us for reasons we cannot comprehend. Perhaps our struggles lead others to make decisions that will better their own lives.

"I may not know the full reason for why I was separated from you and your father, but I do know that if it had not happened, I would not have learned of Talaedra as early as I did. Which then allowed me to warn Galadriel. Had Galadriel not been warned, she may not have sent Lumornel away as an infant. Only Eru knows what may have befallen such a blessed one had she stayed within the reach of the enemy."

"But the enemy had reached her. Sauron had corrupted her while in the womb."

Elellótë shook her head. "Sauron had reached her, yes. But he only wished to taint her to use her as a tool, just as Morgoth had tainted the elves into orcs and seduced some Ainur to his side. Talaedra would have found her and killed her before she could be old enough to defend herself. This maia would not have risked leaving the prophecy-written alive."

Naneth gripped my hand tighter. "The Valar and Eru are not cursing you, little leaf."

My throat constricted at the bygone epithet. "Whatever Eru's plans, the Valar enjoy dangling all I love before me and snatching it away. Their return is hardly significant; the damage has been done."

At the mere thought of it, panic, running as steady as an early spring wind, came rushing forth. Lumornel. Images of her dead; a smattering of vibrant red across her body, her throat ripped cleanly free, a gaping bloody hole in her chest. Lifeless, green irises towards the sky. Her blood—so warm—coating my knees, hands, and chest.

Wiping my palms on my trousers, I vainly wished—no yearned—for our fëar to be bonded in marriage, despite my ghastly wound. Then I could reach out through our spiritual bond and feel that she was safe. Is she safe? I took a steadying breath.

"Little leaf, I have gathered stories from Valinor all my long life and I do not believe any of them to be so cruel."

At my silence, she continued softly. "Do the Valar carry out the will of Eru?"

I hesitated. "Yes."

She nodded. "My fall, though tragic, happened for a reason. The Ring's deception was of evil's plan, but it was also allowed for a reason. And Lumornel died and returned as a reborn elleth for a reason. Can you truly say you would prefer her to live out her days as a mortal; destined to depart and never see you again? I believe there was more to Eru's plan than simply that. Had she not died, she would not have been remade into an elleth. There is a stronger force than darkness in this world."

Naneth eyes, so azure they had to be made of crystalline stone, locked with mine. "The key to living is trusting Eru."

I laughed grimly. "A tough order to follow."

She grinned. "Ai, but how can you have true confidence in something bigger than yourself if it isn't tested?"

Letting go of my hand, she sat back and gestured outwards. Not to the room, but the whole of the world.

"Go outside and see the glory of Eru; you may find it a little easier to trust in him when our life is drowning in confusion and fear. Then, faith hardly seems necessary amongst such wonder.

"Sit amongst the trees and marvel at the intricacies of his creation; the way the leaves are veined for life, the varieties of little creatures and moss and pebbles working together to make a framework of life for more complex animals. The vast mountains and brilliant sun and crashing thunder. Every sunrise and sunset painted across the sky in colors I never see amongst the best of dyes. His art is all around us—there is no denying that. With a painting, there is an artist. With a house, there is a builder. And with creation, there is a creator. Ever since the creating of the world has the evidence of his glory been known."

"I have no doubt of his existence, Naneth." But perhaps of his goodness.

She smiled softly. "Still, it might do you some good."

Her smile faded, not altogether disappeared, but rather turned pensive.

"So, tell me, did Thranduil ever get you your own bow? I remember how enamored you were with the archers." A peel of bell-like laughter rang out from her. "Rather than play with wooden boats, you wanted to watch target practice."

My lips tugged upwards. "Do you remember the tree in our private garden that grew along with the flowering vines?"

She tilted her head to the side. "Vaguely."

"As soon as I was tall enough to climb it, Adar gifted me my first bow. Don't tell him, but I had stuffed my shoes that day so I could reach the lowest branch."

She laughed; it was the sound of effervescent childhood days, of sunshine and one more bedtime story. I may have been an experienced warrior, chief amongst the woodland guard, yet that sound made me feel like an ionn at his naneth's feet, trying every last thing to please her and be held and doted upon.

"Of course you did," Naneth guffawed. "You were ever the little troublemaker."

I rolled my eyes. "You often helped me in my shenanigans. It wouldn't surprise me to learn if half the ideas I had were first placed there by you."

She grinned and her eyes twinkled.

:::::::

I settled into the worn, water-made groove of a boulder, just within the hidden entrance of a shallow cave in the mountain. A small handful of pebbles fell from my movement, falling below some fifty paces towards the true entrance of the Western Hope below. I half expected one of the entrance guards to follow me up—they only let me through by my pulling of rank.

Free from any watching gaze, I allowed myself to grimace at the painfully sore wound in my side, aching from the trek, and then the squat to sit. My head softly hit the rock behind me and I closed my eyes, breathing deeply through my nose and out my mouth.

In... out... just like the Guard taught you. With each exhale, the sharp pain receded into a dull ache. This softer pain didn't touch the level of agony the orc's poison-laced scimitar had all those years ago or even the beatings of practice sparring, but it was still a constant hurt. And after a while, it wore to exhaustion.

Each cycle of breath granted more grounding and, slowly, sounds reached a new awareness. With sight temporarily blinded, sounds became more alive. Birds twittered to mates, insects sang along to the breeze's wintry tune, trees clapped their branches in the wind, their leaves a symphony. Somewhere, two foxes yapped at each other. A soft, cold breeze hummed around hills and between crevices. And, underneath it all, the Music.

The trees sang, and each had a voice of its own. Together they all had one, unified tune. One, but many.

Instead of the wild and wise—but familiar—voices of Eryn Lasgalen, these trees were different. They were gregarious and youthful, yet had developed a newfound caution towards outsiders. And... My eyes flew open in wonderment.

The forests of the Ered Nimrais, just northward of Calambel, recognized me.

Common trees did not speak, not like elves or men, but they did communicate in their own clear way. Did fëar speak? No, but they all had voices of their own.

Listen to your fëa, Adar had said to me before I was old enough to string a bow. Do you sense your spirit within you? Hear its thrum and turn your listening outwards.

I had done as he said—like symbols in the midst of a quiet symphony, the music of Arda had exploded into my senses. I had been rendered motionless, awestruck, reduced to silent tears as the trees spoke and sang and the stars above harmonized. Glory given unto something more worthy than any mind could ever comprehend.

Now I did this on instinct and yet... I hadn't simply listened to nature in so long. Before, Lumornel had been gone, Mirkwood had been so, so far away, and my world had been in shambles. Home was still out of reach and Middle-earth in shadows, but now I took the time... no, I was reminded of what I had forgotten. A woodelf should not be locked inside, especially not Thranduil's son.

'Go outside and see the glory of Eru.'  In my mind's eye, Naneth smiled. 'Ever since the creation of the world has the evidence of his glory been known.'

My soul had been starved of this wonderment; I had nearly forgotten about it.

The marvel was at more than the praises lifted up as an offering, at more than the music of Arda. It was the wonderment of the winter grey sky, the miracle of the tall trunks holding up a multitude of decorated branches, the way the pine needles caught the wind and extended towards the life of the created sun.

'Sit amongst the trees and marvel at the intricacies of his creation.'

I wasn't amongst the trees, yet I noticed the moss in the hollowed-out cave. It was sturdy enough to survive the first frost, and it housed milling insects just as the trees provided shelter for birds, foxes, and slumbering squirrels. Though the moss seemed as if one mass, it was made of tiny tendrils; a forest of its own. The greenery provided for the smallest of creatures, which in turn supported the full abundance of life. Every year, new life sprung up. Again and again without fail. Somehow, it knew when to grow. As if a hand was guiding it.

Though many trees hibernated for the winter, the pines shone with multitudes of greens and blues. Even the bare flora held a beauty of their own. They stood tall despite the harsh conditions. They may have lost their leaves, but they held tight to the promise of new life in spring.

My breath caught. Like the bare woods, I was in a season of cold bleakness. Everything good and beautiful stripped away, exposed to the battering of bitter winds. But there was a promise of spring. It may come and go like the seasons, but spring was always around the corner. And, one day I'll travel across the sea where spring will be eternal in Aman.

As if in answer, the clouds made way and the sun shone brilliantly through. Sunny rays illuminated clouds; the forest glittered in answer. Golden light found my skin; warmed it and sunk deeper.

I gasped, clutching at the terrible wound inside my being. Not Talaedra's scratch, but my fëa. While my fëa hadn't been shattered and frayed, it had been sprained. Instead of tight cords of glimmering life, it had gone limp.

Nature sang its praises so profoundly that I felt my own soul tentatively reach out to echo its beauty and veneration. With those clear-cutting golden rays of the sun, so in harmony with the Music, and with the reminder the laudation brought, I felt my fëa enliven.

With every dawning second, I became reacquainted with Arda's praises and remembered who they were for... Like new flower buds in warmth, my being tentatively responded to the Everlasting Peace that the world sang to.

"Thank you." Tears freely fell and hit my open palms in my lap. My fëa still needed tending, but it was warming, mending. I was not alone in this world, ambling along on a pointless path. Or rather, I guess I had been. But now... Illuvatar had reminded me of his life and all he offered; who he is. Of his goodness.

"Thank you." With a trembling breath, I raised my voice in praise, joining the harmonious choir filling the very fabric of the world.

:::::::

Behind the changing screen, I unbuttoned my blouse robotically, more than awed at the Legolas on the other side.

I heard the grain of cloth shift as he undressed, putting on his night clothing. He... he had been almost glowing when he came back a few moments before. I thought he'd been with his mother all day, instead, he had spent the majority of it outside.

His shoulders weren't weighed unbearably downward, his eyes... they were brighter. There was still much of the faded elf I had grown almost accustomed to but... he seemed so much lighter. The prince I occasionally caught glimpses of during my time as a youth—not the warrior prince, for he was stern and almost unyielding. But the kind one, who smiled at the elflings in his kingdom and helped his citizens with menial tasks. The prince: unburdened.

I blinked away the warmth in my eyes. Oh, Legolas.

Realizing I had stopped my pursuits of changing, I resumed my task. When I heard Legolas rummaging in his desk, I ducked out of the cover of the screen.

I watched him poke around at the candles in a drawer, counting them. I barely breathed, terrified I would break his serene mood and make the grieved, worry-stricken Legolas come crashing back.

"We don't have enough candles to last until my ration is resupplied; it'll be an early night for us."

I hesitated to speak. "I..." I swallowed, bit my cheek as I didn't know whether or not to burst into joyful tears or worry that a single misstep would reveal this as some fragile facade. I cleared my throat. "I can take care of that."

Without a second thought, I let my skin—head to toe—burst alight into a soft glow. It was harder to maintain than letting it glow from my palms, harder to control it into a simple light rather than a weapon of searing energy. But I had been practicing—still was practicing. The Valar had taught me some control, so this was much easier than it had once been, but I wanted to continue refining it. Doing this, harmlessly glowing, was like learning to hold a sword before swinging it in a real battle. If I could balance this correctly, I could wield it with more precision.

He grinned and pinched the candle flame out, the wax stalk itself nearly spent. The room was left with a soft blue-white glow, rather than an orange flickering light.

Legolas closed the three paces between us and took my hands within his warm and sturdy fingers, calloused from weapon wielding. "My star."

I rolled my eyes. He wasn't entirely wrong; Varda's starlight did reside in me. In response, I rose up on my toes and gently kissed him.

"So," I said, peering at him. "... How was your day?"

His eyes wandered off, caught in a memory. Instead of the distance that usually entered his gaze with a recollection, they seemed to smile. "Enlightening."

I huffed. "Legolas, I love you so very much, but this suspense is killing me!"

He winced, his brows furrowing dangerously as hurt flashed before him, causing me to suck in a breath at my careless use of words.

"I–" He gripped my hands tighter then—relaxed, breathed out slowly. The tension his shoulders had suddenly held... bled away.

"Gilmaethiel," he laughed. "Just this morning that phrasing would have sent me into a gloom. But I've been reminded that there is a plan to all this. The music of Eru is proof of that."

My brows furrowed, but I placed a hand on his cheek. "Explain?"

He nodded, taking my hand from his cheek and pulling me onto our bed, smiling. The quilted blanket beneath us softly reflected my light in patches of blue, green, and red.

"As you know, I spoke with my mother," he said, sitting cross-legged. "She reminded me of the presence of Eru, the hope and steadfastness we have in him, and, by extension, the Valar as they follow his command. She suggested I sit in nature and observe his obvious glory therein. I–

He sucked in a breath. "Lumornel. His glory, his might, is everywhere. We're just too stubborn and oblivious to see it."

Tears actually glistened in his eyes. He shook his head and blinked them away. "Meleth, listening to the trees and the very rocks sing praises unto him reminded me of what I've forgotten. My father had shown me this as an elfling but with the war, I had ignored the obvious. Before the creation of Arda, the Music held all the plans for the world. Only Eru himself knows of all the notes in the pages of Creation's story.

"I sat outside and listened to it. I was shown how truly glorious Illuvatar is, how steadfast, how merciful and wise–" He shook his head again. "Do you remember how you used to call me articulate?"

I nodded, wide-eyed.

"There are no words for experiencing his presence. No earthly experience I could possibly relate it to."

Those blue eyes bore into mine, gripped my hands tighter. "He healed me, Lum."

"What?!" I burst into silent tears, my light momentarily flickering. "You're–"

I reached for his tunic, ready to rip away the bandage.

"No, not that. Not something as superficial as the flesh. No, he has started healing my wounded fëa." He put a hand to his chest, then gently took my own hand and placed it above his heart. A gentle ba-bum, ba-bum, ba-bum thumped steadily under my palm. "My fëa had been strained from my grief, Lumornel. I knew of nothing except the long, long expanse of time that could have healed it, until today in the woods. This is more a miracle than any healing of a ghastly, poisonous wound."

The walls and blankets softly reflected Varda's glow and I sat in silence.

"But..." I whispered, barely audible. "That wound. It will kill you."

"Lumornel," his eyes shone. "My fëa is no longer sick. The woes of this current world are still there, the same worries and panic, but I am more ready to face them, more ready to endure them, knowing there is a plan to all of this. And I feel more steady than I have in a long, long time.

"I don't doubt that I'll still have nightmares and I know I will mew over your safety, but I've been reconnected to the music of Arda. I trust in it and I know I can lean into it. It ignites a desire in me to live and fight."

I really looked at him. Though his skin did slightly shimmer from my luminescence, there truly was an inner light emanating from him. So elven. All elves held this light although those who had seen the Two Trees Laurelin and Telperion shone brighter. And... for the first time, I noticed that before this evening, he hadn't been softly shining with that inner elven light. Maybe it was because I had been human for so long and didn't know to look for it, but I saw it now where it had once been so close to being absent.

He took my face in his hands, the glow from my skin casting his irises alight, his skin reflecting it cooly. "You were made by what I describe. How can I worry needlessly over an ordained elleth that was so obviously made for a purpose?"

"You'll still worry," I whispered, staring incredulously at the ellon before me.

"Oh I'll still worry, but it won't be needlessly." That lop-sided smile adorned his handsome face. A smile I hadn't seen in so long. I remembered a time when he had met me while I sat up in a tree, book in hand, and had graced me with that smile.

Legolas furrowed his brows, tucking my hair behind my elven ear. I almost trembled at the sensual touch. "Why do you seem so glum?"

Glum?!

"I'm—" I sobbed, lurching forward and burying my head in his chest, hugging him. "I'm so glad to have you back!"

He laughed softly, one hand cradling my head, the other on the curve of my back. "Me too. But... Lum, I still carry those memories. I'm just better equipped to deal with them now. I know I won't cease to struggle with the past. And my fëa is still mending. It's not fully healed."

I pulled myself firmly into his lap, wrapping my legs behind him, enveloping my arms around his neck. My salty lips crashed into his: a big, sloppy, and tear-soaked kiss.

"I don't care!" I cried. "Well I do care, but you know what I mean!"

I pulled away just slightly to beam at him. "To know that your fëa is on the mend is so—so—"

Emotion filled me so ecstatically that I nearly broke into tears once more, rendered completely voiceless, so I just smashed my lips into his again. Our happiness and relief for his fëa didn't need to be celebrated with words, we let our mouths rejoice passionately, deeply, tenderly.

We broke apart, panting, foreheads touching.

"This is too good to last, isn't it?" I said.

"Probably," he shrugged, then frowned. "Probably."

I poked at his frowning lip and, goofily, grinned at him. "Let's just enjoy this moment. I feel like celebrating!"

His eyes shone. "I adore you when you smile like that."

"Only when I do it?"

He playfully narrowed his eyes and ran his thumb along my bottom lip. "There are many things I adore about you. And not just your smiles or the curve of your lips."

"Like what," I asked, my lip rolling on his thumb. His eyes sparkled.

"I adore your kindness and the way your eyes alight when you hear children's laughter. I adore your gentle hands and caring spirit and maybe even that relentless streak of yours." His fingers ghosted over the planes of my face. "I adore the flush that sometimes enters your cheeks." His hand dropped to my collarbone, caressing the sensitive scar-littered ridge. I shivered.

Those fingers slowly, delightfully, ran back and forth. "I adore the way your light changes when I do this."

My light, softly reflecting in his eyes, was no longer blue-white. Instead, it had somehow shifted to an ever-so-subtle orange. It softly bounced off his hair, the walls. "I adore you, Lum. All the parts that make you up."

As if to further prove that statement, his fingers drifted a little further down to where my blouse had drooped to expose the canvas of past agony. The pads of his fingers lovingly traced tender patterns over my horrid scars.

I stared at him. How could I have ever been so lucky as to have him fall in love with me?

Gently, I kissed him. I briefly nudged his nose with mine, as if I could nudge away the awful need to push his hand away and cover the evidence of tainted memory. "And I adore you. All of you."

He smiled and returned my kiss, while I deepened it, parting his mouth.

My hand roamed the nape of his neck, the other on the planes of his clothed chest. He caressed my pointed, newly sensitive elven ears, eliciting a soft and euphoric gasp.

"Legolas," I began, overcome with the kind of happiness that spirals up into hopeful dreaming. "You should have seen the trees in Aman. They were more beautiful than those at home. They'd be perfect to build a home under."

He huffed a chuckle, brushing hair away from my face. "You're not getting the sea-longing, are you?"

I shook my head, but only barely so as to not disturb Legolas's fingers as they traced my cheekbone. "No, just homesick. But one day I'd like to return to Aman with you. The land over there—it is so peaceful, so beautiful. And the elves! So many of them are so ancient. There's so much singing too. You'd really like it."

When he didn't speak—just continued tracing the scars on my collarbone—I continued. "At home, we should build a house in the forest. I think your father's caves are beautiful, but there's something just so peaceful about waking up to the sound of bird cries and hearing the flutter of leaves at night. And the sun! Waking to the dawn is too beautiful to give up. And the little glades!" I sighed, remembering summer days walking barefoot in a small open patch of forest, sun on my face.

"We could bring our children there to play. Though," I giggled, "with the stories you've told me of your childhood, we'd have to keep a close eye on them. But perhaps we could build this house next to the glade. Do you think Thranduil will allow it? ...Legolas?"

His archer's hand took hold of mine, his other fluttering over my lips. "Do you know what first led me to you in the forest all those years ago? It was your voice. You were softly reading to yourself and I felt like I had fallen into a dream, like Elu had with Melian."

I blushed. "I liked hearing the rhythm of the words out loud."

"And then I saw you. For a mortal, you were quite beautiful."

"Hey!" He earned a smack on the arm.

He laughed, catching my hand and kissing it. "You caught my attention from the moment I heard you. From the moment my eyes landed on you, I knew I was doomed. Ai, I am glad I had fallen into your trap."

"You think I was trying to trap you?"

"Mm-hm, all beautiful maidens lay traps for helpless princelings, do they not?"

I laughed. "If you say so."

He grinned, the toothy smile relaxing into one of contentment. "My father had a woodland house built about half a day's ride from his Halls. We would spend a short length of days there with my mother. There was a glade nearby with a trickling brook and plenty of twittering birds in the canopy of leaves. I'm sure my father would allow us to use it. Our children could play in the brook and chase the colony of rabbits through the wildflowers. Our daughter will make you flower circlets and our son will protect you both from the dragonflies.

I'll take you there after the birth of our first child. I'll look after you while you recover and nurture our babe into the fullness of life. It is so blissful there, Lum. You'll love it."

My heart swelled in my chest. His blue eyes held no lie, only hope and truth. Our future. I so desperately wanted it to be true, to be home with him now and take hold of that future with a firm grasp. To never let go of it. Maybe... maybe we could have that.

Those blue eyes, those strong hands. My love, my protector, my partner through life.

"Legolas, meleth... I..." I took a deep breath, gripping his hand in mine and looking into the deep pools of blue I had fallen in love with. "I don't want to be parted from you a second longer. I want that future together, I want to have your children and be your queen."

With one hand I caressed his sensitive elven ear, with the other I touched the place over his heart and kissed him as deeply as if I could bind our fëar together with that one touch. "I want this."

His calloused hand cupped my face. "Oh, Lum."

His warm lips crashed and danced with mine. In my chest, joy swelled like a morning chorus of doves as I reached for the buttons of his night tunic.

His tender fingers caught mine.

"Lum..." Legolas groaned, voice unbearably reluctant. He made to pull away.

"No," I gasped. "I'm ready, Legolas. I want you. Only you, forever. Please, I don't want my fëa to be parted from yours for a single second longer."

He rested his hands on my shoulders and brought them down my arms, down my waist til they settled on my hips. Legolas paused for an unbearable second.

"To form this bond... our souls would twine together in marriage—inseparable but by death. And even then, they would still reach for each other. I won't be bound to you like this, Lum. Not with this black wound. Not when I could die so easily. I won't leave your fëa tattered and broken. It would be worse a fate than the one I was left to."

I almost whimpered, although I knew somewhere I agreed. "What about faith in Eru? You said you trusted him."

"I do, but that doesn't mean I'm going to risk this."

"You know," I whispered, gazing at those lips, his face, mused hair. "That was my exact reasoning nine years ago when I rejected your affections."

I interlaced our warm fingers together. The bed was so small, I could feel the heat radiating off him.

He paused, then grimaced. "I'm sorry, Lum."

While I undeniably felt a passion for him physically, it was different from how it felt when I was human. Then, the passion, so feeble and too fragily human, was fueled by lust and the carnal. While those desires still existed, they were quieted. The passion I felt as an elf was instead fueled by a great and purposeful desire: to be bound in soul to him. I didn't want physical intimacy for the sake of a moment's euphoria... I wanted the divine intertwining of souls. To be wholly his and wholly part of the creator's intentional union. Carnal wants were futile, base, and vain. Human. So fleetingly human.

I slipped off his lap, doing my best to avoid his gaze as I lay above the covers, pillow soft under my head. All I wanted was to feel his hands on me, to explore him, and be so intimately bound in soul that I didn't know where I ended and he began. What would it be like to be hundreds of leagues apart, but to still feel the other's presence?

"I do want this," Legolas continued, reaching out to lay his hand on mine. "You have no idea how much I want this."

The way his eyes shone in pain, longing, and hungry passion... I resisted the urge to pull myself flush with him, to begin our warm barrage of kisses again, just to shatter his feeble resolve.

"This bed-sharing thing might have been a bad idea," I whispered.

He guffawed, the laugh bouncing off the walls as he slid onto his side next to me. His grin fell seamlessly into a content smile as he began playing with my fingers. Blue eyes met mine.

"Tomorrow, I'd like to take you outside."

"You'll show me the music?"

He nodded, still grinning from my comment, and traced the scars on my arms from where my sleeve had been pushed up in our heated moment. I almost reflexively threw his hand off, almost pushed down my sleeve. I reminded myself of the time he kissed my scars in a tent, all those years ago. His lips, so warm on my tattered skin.

I bit my tongue— "Legolas, don't you think—and you can't blame a girl for trying—but don't you think we'd fare much better through this war if our fëar were bonded in marriage?" I shifted my eyes to the ceiling, although the effort to do so was immense. "And if your answer is no then I think you really shouldn't be touching me right now."

Cause if you keep touching me, several articles of clothing might be taken off.

But with my skin exposed... the things it would reveal... Saruman's touch. Legolas wasn't bothered by it... but how was he not repulsed? Every time I saw them, every time Legolas lingered too long on those ugly ridges and silver lines, I thought of those knives. A yellowed wizard and the cool table of steel.

Maybe... maybe I wasn't ready for what I wanted. But... could I push through? Surely I could. For that woodland glade and those frolicking children. I could push through to have Legolas safely intertwined with me. Yes, I thought resolutely. A moment of painful memories would be well worth it.

"This wound and this war is why we shouldn't be bonded, Lum." He sighed and stopped his soothing touches. "Elves don't marry during periods of strife because the separation is so hard on newly bonded fëar. And if death occurs..."

I sighed. "I know. I know. Mother had told me as much but don't some marry during war?

"Well, yes." A dark cloud flitted over his features. "But I can bet they didn't have an unprecedented garish injury."

"Well... well... ugh!" I balled my fists, warm tears threatening to spill over. The beating of my heart, somehow not broken, filled the space. Or maybe my disappointment made its beating amplified in my own ears, taunting me for my effort. The image he had created; our children playing in a glade... my heart clenched. That stupid wound! Stupid, stupid Talaedra!

"Meleth..." Legolas seemed to be searching for something. His fingers beat a short rhythm on the mattress next to me. So close to touching, but respecting my moment of frustration. The drumming of his fingers stilled suspiciously.

"Can you settle for a goodnight kiss?" The mischief in his voice was practically vibrating.

I whipped a glare at him and wiped my eyes, sniffing. "No."

"Ohh, but Lum!" He gave me the most precious doe eyes.

"Nope." My eyes returned to the blue glow of the ceiling.

"How will I ever sleep without a goodnight kiss from you, meleth?"

"Miserably."

"You don't mean that."

"I do."

Legolas sat up. "Give me my kiss."

"Or what?"

When he didn't respond, I glanced over to find him grinning wickedly.

He poked my side.

My garbled shriek bounced off the walls as I instinctively coiled away at the touch. The light in the room shot up to dazzling.

"Give me my kiss!"

"No!"

He went on the attack, archer fingers rapidly poking my sides. "Kiss!"

I scrambled as best I could away, trying desperately to contain the swelling laughter in my chest as I swatted at his hands. My side collided with the hard wall of the cave. "No!"

The poking turned into tickles.

"No, no, no! Legolas!"

He cackled through my shrieks, his beautiful blonde hair falling down towards me and tickling my nose.

"Stop!"

He encased my swatting wrists in his hands and loomed over me, straddling my hips, grinning as I gasped for breath. "My beautiful meleth, the most shining of stars, wilt thou grace me with a moonlit kiss?"

Breathless, I laughed. "You are the most—the most—miserable ellon!" I laughed again, rolling my eyes at the most hopeful expression on his boyish face. "A small one."

He beamed and leaned down to hover above my lips. "On nydha, melethenin," he breathed. "Nai savog elei velui."

Softly, he kissed me. Lips as soft and delicate as petals. Every girlish bit of me warmed and melted at his gentleness. The room's light dulled to a soft glow.

"On nydha, caun nin. Gi melin eithro."

With a soft smile on my lips, his fingers softly trailed across my cheek as he pushed my hair away from my face. Legolas settled into bed next to me as I dulled the lights to the dark of night.

I nestled deeper into the blankets, replaying my conversation with Legolas in my mind. I vowed to make that image of our family come true. Legolas would have to heal. Somehow.

My mind whirled back to why Legolas was even able to conjure up that lovely hope. He was so different from the Legolas of yesterday. The weight seemed lifted from his shoulders, he seemed to breathe so much easier...

Mother used to speak about Eru. Well, I'm sure she's still humming his praises even now.

It made me terribly homesick to think of her. I wanted almost nothing more than to watch her place our stone oven in the bed of hot coals within our dainty fireplace, to help her prepare our evening meal.

How many times had she told me the histories of creation? Of the coming of elves, dwarves, and man?

And how much have I thought of the creator since I've been back? I winced.

Being among the Valar should have made me more reverent for Eru, instead it made me desensitized. At the start of my stay in Aman, after my initial grieving and shock, I was struck dumb with awe and worship and thanks but then... I went through the motions. Became numb to the acts of service and love that were constantly around me. I forgot about the veneration that he was due.

I'm sorry, I thought to my creator. Forgive me.

Eventually, the soft rhythm of Legolas's breath by my side lulled me gently into the subtle waves of elven sleep. And oh, sweet were my dreams. They were filled with sunlight and glittering green leaves. Dreams of a radiant dress and royal robes, glittering blue eyes, and shimmering, resplendent rings. Vividly bright, vividly and exquisitely tangible.

:::::::

Ionn       ͢.    boy (can also mean son)

On nydha, melethenin*.       ͢     Good night, my love

           *I recently learned that the phrase "meleth nin" (my love) is actually possessive in the sense that you OWN the person... So I'm trying to remember to use "melethenin" instead.

Nai savog elei velui.       ͢     May you have sweet dreams

On nydha, caun nin. Gi melin eithro.       ͢.   Good night, my prince. I love you too.

(I must credit Romans 1:20-21 for Elellótë's phrase "Ever since the creating of the world has the evidence of his glory been known". Much of that section, including Legolas's venture outside, was inspired by that passage.

"His invisible attributes—His eternal power and His divine nature—have been clearly seen ever since the creation of the world, being understood through the things that have been made. So people are without excuse—for even though they knew God, they did not glorify Him as God or give Him thanks. Instead, their thinking became futile, and their senseless hearts were made dark." Romans 1:20-21 )

I'm back! Sorta. I apologize for the excessively long wait. Life took an unexpected turn, but the long waiting period may have improved the direction of this story. The tangent my life went on also helped me grow as a person and greatly strengthened my relationship with the Lord. I'm hoping this maturation will show in Lumornel's story.

If you're reading this after two years, then thank you for sticking with the story (although I definitely don't blame the others who gave up on updates). For those who are newer, welcome! (or maybe I should simply say "Hi" since I've had yet to address you like this and you've been with this story for many thousands of words lol) And thank you SO much for reading Lumornel's journey. 

Although I went ahead and uploaded this chapter, I still want to finish the story in its entirety before updating regularly. Partly due to classes (I'm in the last semester of my undergrad, but will be going for a doctorate in the Fall, so I won't have much time to write) and partly because I want this story to be good lol. I want the chance to go back and change things (if necessary) so the story flows well. If only I could go back into this story and The Unexpected to get rid of things lol. There's so much I would change. 

If I've gone quite a long time without updating, I'll update the next chapter (if it's been written).

Anyhow, I'd like to hear from you readers! How are you enjoying the story? What do you hope will happen? What do you think will happen? Also, who's your favorite character besides Legs and Lum, and why? Your responses (and comments in general) really help me as a writer!

God bless,

Phoenix