Mourning my Love

A/N: I beg forgiveness from everyone (especially Tux) for the long wait for this chapter. My writing was completely overtaken by a fic, and then when I completed it, I took a break to reenergize myself. I can only hope that it was worth the wait and a chapter you enjoy.


Mourning My Love – Chapter 6

They sat together, Elrohir and Legolas, throughout the night and into the morning. When dawn’s first light crept upon them the silence was finally broken.

“Forgive me.”

Slowly, Elrohir turned to the holder of his heart, “For what?”

Legolas sighed with weariness, “I have hurt you. I never meant to hurt anyone, yet you are hurting. Do not deny it, I can see it. Your eyes speak the truth even if you words may not.”

There was no denying that Legolas was correct, “I try to understand, Legolas. Truly, I think all the time about your position. Having so much taken away, your very identity.”

Tears misted the Prince’s eyes and Elrohir thought perhaps his words too harsh.

“But, my love, I cannot look upon you as anything other than the elf who holds my heart, my very soul, in their hand. You have more power over me than anything else on Arda and, try as I might, I cannot stop my eyes from seeing you in such a light.”

“Those words are so beautiful. How I long to share your feelings, how I long to look upon you and see more than this moment. To see moments of the far past and perspectives into our shared futures.” Legolas said, “All I can hope is that one day my vision will be restored. Until then, perhaps I am graced with the ability to see you as you are now, in this very moment and none other. Perhaps that sight can be useful as well, for I do see the love you have for me. Please do not think me blind to your eyes and the words they speak in the silent whispering of the night.”

The wind caressed them both, cool and refreshing in the morning mist and the pale light.

“I believe I will return to my rooms now, Elrohir, good morning to you.”

The young twin rose with his companion, “And to you, Legolas.”

They parted as the last of the morning stars hid behind the coming of the sun.

Legolas returned to his rooms, not incredibly excited about starting another day of work and lessons, but what else was he going to do? He needed to get through this period into order to move on and perhaps recover a bit of what was lost.

Drowsy he went to his dresser to pull out a towel to take with him to the baths when something caught his eye. His father had brought a few of his personal items from Eryn Lasgalen along and the King must have been in his rooms during the night to place the objects with his son.

Sitting upon the dresser was something Legolas swore hadn’t been there when he left last night, or else his memory was getting even worse. Doubting that nightmarish possibility he peered at the item.

It was a seashell, conical and tan. Reaching for it slowly, carefully, he picked it up and stared at it, wondering briefly at its significance.

Suddenly an image, stronger than anything else, came flooding into his mind. A voice pierced the quite of his room even though there was no one else there. The voice of a woman; calling from a place unknown.

“Come here and sit with me, young one.ouldould use some company this morning, it will be a tough and long day.”

A child, so very young, crawled into the woman’s lap; happy to be held by the one he loved above all.

“Now, little one, I have something to give to you. A very special present.” The woman said with a smile, though saddened by fate’s cruel twisting.

Large, blue eyes lit up, as all children’s eyes do, mortal or everlasting, at the prospect of a new present. Especially a surprise present.

“What is it?” A young voice inquired.

Laughing at the child’s enthusiasm, the woman held out something in her hand. Something the child had never seen before.

The question was asked once more, even though the gift was in plain sight, “What is it?”

“It is a seashell, young Greenleaf, something to remember me by.”

Confusion came over the child, “You are going on a journey?”

“I am.” She painfully confessed.

Gazing at the seashell still resting in the woman’s hand the child spoke, “When are you coming back?”

Tears began to form in her eyes, “I will not be coming back, my baby, but listen,” she took the shell and placed it to the child’s ear, “do you hear it, Legolas?”

“I hear it.”

“It is the sea, it is where I am going. If you hold this to your ear and listen, you will hear my voice in the waves and know I am always with you.”

“Why are you leaving me?” Was the innocent question, but broke the woman’s heart into pieces.

Sobbing, she replied, “I could never leave you, never in all of time. Though you may not see me, my heart will always linger with you, wherever you go.”

Together they listened to sea and cried salty tears.

A tear streaked down Legolas’ face as he held the shell reverently in his hand.

Of all the people to finally remember, Legolas was surprised to find it was his mother’s face that crept into his mind first. Her beauty and her voice stayed with him, no matter what happened and wherever he went.

“It broke heart art to leave you, child, but it would have broken everything she was had she stayed.”

Turning, Legolas saw his father standing in the doorway.

“I know if anyone could come and claim you from your black hole of despair it would be her.” Holding out his arms, Legolas rushed into the embrace.

“I miss her so much.” He choked out and Thranduil rubbed circles on his son’s back.

Clearing his throat, “I do too.” He confessed.

As they stood there, holding each other and sharing in the few memories they could, the King noticed his son beginning to shake in his arms. It quickly grew worse and more violent and soon Thranduil had to work to get out of his son’s desperate grasp.

“Legolas?” He questioned as his son suddenly began falling. “Legolas, please tell me what it wrong!”

But the Prince could not answer, as he had passed out. Eyes closed and blood running from his nose as though he had suffered a great physical injury. Though it pained him to leave his son, he had to find help. He was no great healer and Legolas was obviously in need of help.

“Elrond!” the King called, “Elrond, please come quickly, there is something wrong with Legolas!”

Even from the far courtyard, Elrond could hear the cries and went to Legolas’ room to see what was amiss. The scene was terrible; Legolas lay almost still on the floor except for a few jerks to his body that almost appeared as if he were being jabbed by some unseen enemy.

“What has happened?” the healer questioned as he bent to examine the unconscious Prince, observing the closed eyes.

“I do not know, one minute he told me he had remembered his mother, then he went into some sort of seizure and collapsed. Please let me what is wrong!” Thranduil demanded.

“You say he remembered something and then this happened?” Elrond asked. Nodding, Thranduil was quick to reply, “Yes, yes, it was as I told you.”

“Oh no, please do not let this be his fate.” El pra prayed quickly so no hyper father could hear his dismay. For if it was as he feared, then Legolas would never be able to remember anything from his past self ever again and live.

TBC