My Twisted Road to Life: Nightmares & Dreamscapes

Disclaimer: (In the spirit of Crimson Starlight)

Trina: *taps foot* So where's the nookie?

Shana: *blinks* Huh?

Trina: You promised me naughty fiction.

Shana: Good lord woman! Have you never heard of "plot development?"

Trina: No, I want SMUT!

Shana: Well go read one of my other fics. This is the BASE STORY for all the others. So excuse me if I don't just have them show up and screw.

Trina: *sticks out tongue* You're no fun.

Shana: *crosses arms over chest* And you're a nympho. Your point being?

Glory and Hal: *fall over each other trying to beat the other into the room*

Glory: Someone say nympho?

Trina: *eyebrow* Is that the one?

Shana: The only.

Trina: *evil smirk* Glorfindel.

Hal: *dusts self off, watches Trina drag a now protesting Glory toward the extra bedroom* What about me?

Shana: *grin* You get to banish the "Bobby ghost."

Hal: *looks in direction Glory was drug* Damn, he got the easy assignment.

Shana: You think so? *runs finger down elf's chest, sliding hand up under his skin-tight t-shirt*

Hal: *pulls Shana up against him* Never said I *liked* easy.

Glory: *head pops out of back room* Shanastay owns nothing belonging to Tolkien. *gets dragged back into back room* Sweet Eru woman!

Chapter 3: You Can't Have Everything… Where Would You Put It?

By the time Legolas reached the Houses of Healing Janessa had retreated completely into herself. Her consciousness was relegated to a dark corner of her mind, all but the most basic of life-sustaining processes ceasing. It was as if a black hole had opened beneath her and swallowed her up. She was completely and utterly unaware of anything occurring to or around her.

Legolas was becoming increasingly agitated at his inability to sense any kind of emotion from the redhead. It was almost a tangible feeling unto itself, like a gaping hole had opened inside him. When the woman had appeared he had been able to sense her with a clarity unlike before. Now it was like she had died again, their link severed with a totality he had not felt so acutely previously. The lack of feeling was utterly disturbing.

Elrond had been only a few steps behind the slender archer, slipping nimbly around the fair elf, directing Legolas to place the woman on one of the cots. The dark elf assisted the blonde, removing the strange quiver and attached sword. Once the redhead was settled the healer quickly reassessed her state, distressed to find her completely unresponsive to outside stimuli, including pain.

Legolas kept hovering behind the Imladrin lord, watching everything Elrond did. After almost tripping over the Mirkwood prince for the third time the healer turned, wordlessly took hold of the younger elf's shoulders and guided him to a stool next to the left side of the cot.

Immediately realizing his error, the blonde elf blushed and focused his gaze back on Janessa, reaching out to take her right hand between both of his.

Elrond smiled indulgently at Legolas, taking silent note of the Prince's unconsciously protective behavior. He registered the arrival of the younger of his twin sons without turning.

Elrohir stepped up beside his father, a tray laden with soft cloths, various herbs and a bowl of warm water balanced in his hands, Janessa's bow slung over one shoulder. The younger elf immediately noticed his blonde friend's protective posture and the redhead's insensate state.

Sensing the imminent question Elrond murmured softly, "She isn't responding to any form of stimuli. Not even pain."

"That is good for tending her injuries, but does not bode well for her recovery," Elrohir stated.

Elrond nodded as Elrohir placed his tray on a table at the foot of the cot, doffed the woman's bow, placing it against the wall by the quiver and sword and assessed the redhead.

"Her injuries are mostly superficial. The blood on her face, the black eyes and swelling are from a broken nose. Her left shoulder is dislocated and the muscles possibly torn. The damage is not severe enough to be the cause of her dissociated state, and," the elder elf inclined his head toward Legolas who seemed to be utterly unaware of the other elves' presence, "that."

Following his father's motion Elrohir took in the immobile form of his friend. Legolas' eyes had glazed over in a manner similar to elvin sleep, but somehow different. It took a moment for the raven haired elf to recognize the difference.

When elves slept, they kept their eyes open, still aware of the outside world, but allowing their minds and bodies the opportunity to rest. There was always that hint of awareness in their eyes, something Legolas' now lacked.

Stunned, Elrohir passed a hand before the blonde's eyes and even snapped his fingers. Either motion should have brought the archer to full awareness. Nothing happened. Legolas didn't even blink. His eyes were simply… empty, both hands gripping Janessa's right. Looking up, Elrohir watched his father shake his head. The elder elf had no explanation for it.

The elder healer moved around his son to stand by the woman's head on her left side. Reading his intent, the younger elf leaned over Janessa, placing one hand on her uninjured shoulder, the other against her side beneath her right arm.

Elrond took hold of the woman's left arm, drew it out and away from her body until it was perpendicular to her torso. Making sure her elbow was locked out, the elf flexed her hand, placing his right palm against hers. His left hand he pressed to the unnatural bulge protruding from the top of Jan's shoulder. While Elrohir braced the woman's body the healer pressed down with his left hand as he angled her arm with his right, reseating her shoulder in one smooth motion.

The joint moved back into place with a sickening popping sound that even the experienced healers both winced at. Janessa's body showed no reaction, not even an involuntary twitch. Elrond then probed around her shoulder joint with his fingertips, assuring himself that no tendons had been caught or nerves pinched from the maneuver. Satisfied that he had accomplished what was needed, the elder healer gently laid Jan's arm by her side.

Throughout the procedure Elrohir had been watching Legolas' face for any sign of awareness, anything that would signal that the Prince was coming out of his fugue state. As the redhead's shoulder was popped back into place the blonde elf didn't even twitch. There was simply nothing, just an empty gaze.

Elrohir couldn't decide which was more disturbing, the woman's coma-like state or the blonde archer's complete dissociation. The darkling elf decided the two in conjunction were the worst. One of the pair being so was distressing, for both to be like that put a wholly different connotation on the situation.

Once her shoulder was set, the younger of the two raven elves released the woman and began handing items to Elrond, the elder elf tending to Jan's face. The Imladrin Lord carefully wiped away the dried blood on her cheeks, noting the bruising and swelling around her eyes. They were swollen almost to slits, the damaged tissues purpling.

Still insensate, Janessa did not so much as twitch when seeing the odd angle of the woman's nose, Elrond deftly broke it again, resetting it. He caught the new rush of blood from her nostrils with the cloth in his hand. The healer had no way of knowing her nose had had that odd set for at least a decade from various fights. All the blood removed, Elrond then laid a clean cool damp cloth across the woman's eyes.

Nodding to his son, the elder elf took up the tray Elrohir had brought in and silently left the room, the younger elf taking up a vigil over his friend and their new arrival. Quickly returning everything to its place, Elrond stepped out of the edifice into the fading sunlight where the rest of the group had been waiting. He quickly relayed to them the turn of events.

********

Gandalf stood slightly apart from the group, listening to the Imladrin Lord, but his focus was on a certain golden-haired seneschal. So it was that the Istari was not surprised when Glorfindel volunteered to relieve Elrohir in his vigil. Something had passed between the reborn elf and the woman up in that tree and Gandalf was determined to find out what.

Deciding that no further information would be forthcoming the group dispersed, the white wizard hanging back until Elrohir emerged from the building. The darkling elf nodded to the Istari and continued on his way back to the Last Homely House. Gandalf quietly stepped into the edifice, moving to stand behind Glorfindel.

The golden-haired elf only looked up at the wizard from his seated position when a hand was placed on his shoulder. A slight turn of the head was the only indication the seneschal had given that he'd heard the Maia enter. For a bare second when their gazes locked, Gandalf saw deep worry flicker in Glorfindel's eyes before the elf carefully schooled his features back to neutrality.

Ah, so I was right. There IS something more to this than is being said. The pair regarded the eerily silent tableau before them, each lost in his own thoughts.

***********

When Glorfindel heard of the state that Janessa and Legolas were currently in he immediately volunteered to take over the watch, inwardly hoping that somehow he might pull them out of it. He couldn't release the memory of the look in the redhead's eyes as she calmly told him to drop her. The significance of it was not lost on the Elda.

Being an immortal being, before his first death, he could not fully comprehend the mindset of a human, knowing all the time that at some point, some place, they would ultimately die. Compared to the longevity of elves, the lifespan of a human passed in the blink of an eye. Elves made plans in terms of centuries. The shortness of human life resulted in them living life at what elves perceived to be a feverish pace, their lives brutal and short. Having such limited time, every moment meant so much more. Having died once, Glorfindel had an insight few Eldar understood.

What Glorfindel did understand was what it felt like to die, and to die violently at that. That haunted look, the knowledge of what lies on the other side of death never quite went away. Even thousands of years later he still had nightmarish flashbacks of what it was like in the Halls of Waiting.

For Janessa it was still new and fresh and quite probably one of the reasons she lay on the bed insensate. It made sense that she'd feel overwhelmed. To a certain extent it would account for her state, but not Legolas'. Unless…

No. He wouldn't be that foolish. The Prince may be impulsive, letting his heart guide him, especially considering the nature of his connection with her, but he wouldn't… Dawning certainty flowed through the elf like waves washing over the sand. He followed her. Wherever she has fled to, he's followed her. Sweet Eru, help him. If he can't find her and bring her back we may lose them both.

**************

Gandalf observed the seneschal from where he stood at the foot of Janessa's bed. He took in the subtle changes in posture the Elda let slip, wondering exactly what it was Glorfindel had made of the puzzle pieces before them. Unable to, or unwilling to rein in his curiosity Gandalf asked, "Well?"

Glorfindel allowed a half-smile to cross his face. He doesn't even tell me what it is. He just expects me to know. Granted, he's right. "I believe Legolas is somehow using his connection with Janessa to follow wherever it is her consciousness has retreated to. He is playing the gallant knight to her damsel in distress." The ancient elf shook his head. "He's trying to save her, but from what I've learned of her from him she neither wants nor needs to be saved. I can only hope we don't lose them both. She's been through worse."

Gandalf remained silent, turning his attention back to Legolas and the mysterious redheaded woman whose hand the blonde elf held tightly between his. What the Valar have in store for you, I do not know. The only thing I am relatively certain of is that the path before you is neither straight nor short.

For several moments Gandalf contemplated, debating sharing with Glorfindel, aware that Legolas had shared far more with the seneschal than he had with the Istari. Between the two of them they might be able to fill in the holes in Gandalf's theories.

The ancient wizard hesitated only a moment more before querying the Elda, "How long has it been since Legolas was last in a relationship?"

Glorfindel started at the unexpected question, turning to face the old man fully, his brows drawing together, eyes narrowed in confusion.

"I assure you I have good reason for asking. I have no desire to intrude upon the personal affairs of the Prince."

Relaxing noticeably, sensing the direction this was going in the Elda answered, "To my knowledge it has been well over a century since his last liaison, and longer still since he was involved in anything resembling a relationship."

"Why, do you think, that is?"

Now Glorfindel knew he was right about where Gandalf was heading with this line of questioning. "I know why that is," the elf answered and stopped.

When the wizard raised one snowy eyebrow, indicating he should elaborate, the seneschal reluctantly continued. "The reason is both simple and complicated." Glorfindel sighed, bending his head and closing his eyes, the fingers of his right hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

Gandalf waited patiently for the balrog-slayer to compose his thoughts, knowing the elf most likely held the key to their present conundrum. The Istari couldn't help but notice the haunted look in the elf's eyes as their gazes locked.

"There is no elleth or ellon in all of Middle Earth that is a match for him. Not even me. Neither one of us feel that kind of attraction." From the look on Gandalf's face the Elda knew the Istari realized there was more to it than that.

"He is tired of meaningless liaisons and fleeting relationships. Thranduil expects Legolas to marry a courtly lady, someone befitting an elf of his station and reputation. Finding no one of interest within or without our accepted social circles he has opted to remain alone, rather than dally with individuals he has no intention of committing himself to."

"What is it that all these potential suitors are lacking?"

"What he is looking for simply doesn't exist. Everyone has some thing, some area that they excel at. No one exists who excels at, well, everything."

Gandalf's expression was nothing short of incredulous. "He wants perfection personified? That is a bit much to ask."

Glorfindel shook his head adamantly. "No, no, no. Not perfection," sighing deeply he spread his hands in supplication. "Think about what both Legolas is known for. He is a legend unto himself, supposedly having accomplished these great feats, when all he did was rise to the challenges of his Age."

Seeing that Gandalf still did not understand he explained further, "Versatility. The uncommon ability to adapt to any situation, becoming and doing what is needed at the time."

With stunning alacrity Gandalf grasped what Glorfindel was driving at. "An equal. He desires someone who can match his abilities in all arenas, all aspects of life."

"Exactly," Glorfindel leaned back in his seat, relieved that the Istari seemed to grasp the enormity of the problem. "His expectations are a bit… high."

That's when it struck Gandalf why the Valar created the connection between Legolas and this otherworldly woman. Legolas' match simply did not exist in this time and space. So the Valar had bridged the gap between worlds. But this woman was, for lack of a better description, damaged. To Gandalf's obviously skewed perspective she appeared to be anything BUT the perfect match she was intended to be.

The final piece fell into place then. The equal to Legolas wouldn't be someone perfect. It would be someone who had been through the kinds of things he had, lived through turbulent times, seen and done things few others could/would have and survived, been able to overcome and move beyond.

The Istari knew of some of the horrors that the woman had endured and Legolas had given him the impression that rather than breaking her, they had only strengthened her will to live, made her stronger. The blonde archer had said something once that Gandalf knew had to have come from the woman. "What does not kill you only makes you stronger." A strange but rather true statement.

The Maia was aware that Legolas still had waking visions, what humans called nightmares, of Moria and the balrog in particular. Living through such things, such times, had a way of changing you that only someone having endured similar trauma could understand.

Ever since the fall of Sauron, Legolas had been feeling alienated from his own people. He had clung to his friendship with Gimli, the pair traveling together, their camaraderie and shared experiences binding them together, keeping them sane. The sea-longing that had awoken in the Prince had been a constant strain, his promise to Aragorn the only thing holding him to these shores.

The Valar had realized only someone from somewhere totally foreign could be the other half the Prince needed. Gandalf could only hope that the woman would fill the gaping hole that had opened in the elf's life.

"Gandalf? Sweet Eru, what IS going on?"

The Istari snapped out of his introspection, refocusing on Glorfindel's clearly concerned visage. He waved dismissively, indicating he was fine. "This is what I believe is happening. Legolas has felt apart from his own people for some time. He has been alone and slowly withdrawing from those closest to him. Unable to find someone to relate with him he has shut himself off and slowly begun to fade."

The seneschal's eyes widened at Gandalf's words. He had noticed the Prince seeking more and more time alone than he was previously known for. Whenever in Imladris Legolas was always in the company of either the indomitable Peredhil twins or Estel. Recently the blonde elf had been seen slinking off by himself or seeking out the balrog-slayer's company as Glorfindel was known for keeping to himself.

This makes all too much sense. Legolas has not been himself now for some time. He has been more alive since this strange connection manifested itself than before. He has also been noticeably wilting since she "died."

"He has proven himself over and over, his selflessness, much like yours, has become legendary. The Valar wouldn't reward such a person by simply letting them wither away alone so they created this 'link' through time and space between them. I believe their feas may already be bound."

The golden-haired elf's head snapped up at Gandalf's last words. Already bound? Is that possible? Turning back to the unmoving pair before them the Elda considered the tableau. It must be so. How else could Legolas have followed where she has gone if not for that depth of connection? Mental powers have never been one of Legolas' talents.

The two observers let silence settle around them, each considering the ramifications of the other's words, blissfully unaware of the drama unfolding deep in the recesses of a certain redhead's mind.

***********

A/N: Yes, I KNOW it's been forever since I updated. Hopefully I will be able to do so on a more regular basis again. Real life has been intruding in a big way over the last several months with a LOT of changes and adjustments taking place. Thank you for your patience. I have NOT abandoned this or any of the other fics. Domination Chapter 5 needs only some editing, the next chapter of Two is nearly done as is the next installment of Thine. Thank you again and PLEASE leave me a review! I write faster with encouragement.