| In Moonlit Shadows: Jei wanted to throw her arms up and run through the halls, laughing loudly and exploring every room of the Last Homely House. She wanted to stand outside every balcony and shout to the moon, and sleep outside under her brilliant beams upon a bed of feathers and rose petals. It was because Rivendell was deserted that she wished to do this and more. Like a child whose parent had left them alone for a night to do as they pleased. Only she was no child. And her parents would not be coming back. She entered the Hall of Fire, Pippin beside her looking about with an expression close to rapture. The Hall was large, unbelievably so, and quite empty. But what drew her attention was the great hearth in the room, between two pillars. A wonderful fire stood blazing there and crouching before it was Legolas, gazing into the flames as if mesmerized. The fire threw copper light upon his delicate features and she felt a sudden wave of remorse for having wanted to hurt him. But it hadn’t been her, it had been the ornament and she allowed herself to believe that for a small moment. Then Legolas lifted his gaze and looked in her direction and she knew better than to believe it had been the ornament alone. She stared at him as he looked at her and she wondered what he thought at that very moment. Resting in an abandoned Rivendell, understanding that much more lay ahead when all he had wanted was to leave it all behind. Hadn’t once been enough? Why did he need to go through it again? But then he merely turned his face back to the flames and bowed his head, feeling more like a stranger to her than ever before. She pushed away the sorrow and came further into the hall as Pippin ran off to join Merry close by. Gimli was looking none too happy with her and she turned away from him, not needing another remark about how she was not to be trusted. Crossing her arms over her chest and facing the door she had just come in through, she asked, “How long will we be here for?” in an absentminded tone. It almost seemed as if the question went unanswered. But then Legolas said, “For as long as you wish,” in a faint tone, just as distracted as she seemed. She nodded. “Then good night. I will see you all in the morning.” And without another word she lowered her arms and left the Hall, closing the doors quietly behind herself. Gimli whirled to face Legolas, bristling. “Just like that, then?” he demanded. “Excuse the harsh tone, my friend, but I’ve just about had it with her!” Legolas did not reply to him, eyes downcast. “How long are we going to be here for?” Merry asked quietly, sounding almost reluctant. “I mean, it’s wonderful and all, Rivendell, but we should push on. Now that the Homely House has been abandoned there is nothing stopping Ringwraiths from entering.” “You don’t think..” Pippin looked at him fearfully. Legolas rose slowly, as if on aching limbs. “I meant what I said,” he said softly, gazing at the fire as it raged furiously. Such power compared to how he felt at that very moment. He wanted to be that power, that anger. He wanted to feel something. “We leave when she wishes to leave. And if she does not wish to leave again then by her side will I stay.” The group came to a sudden, disbelieving stop. “What?” Gimli growled angrily. He wanted to see her suddenly. Staring at the fire he felt the strong desire to see her and walk by her side. He did not understand it and he did not question it. He had given up questioning anything long ago for everything had a purpose and the point was to find it. His reasoning and his desires had a purpose and he was sure that if he actually put his mind to it he would come across that purpose. There was a reason why he wanted to see her. There was a reason why he saw her image in that raging fire, why he almost found it simple to want to walk into that fire to touch that image. And eventually the reason would be made clear. But not tonight. Instead he turned away from the fire, from the warmth it offered, and he slowly floated over toward the doors. “Legolas,” called Pippin and as the elf glanced over, “You are being careful…aren’t you?” The elf gazed at him for a moment, unsure as to what he meant. But then he smiled faintly, hands clasping behind his back. “Indeed I am, Pippin. Indeed I am.” Jei flung open a door, slamming it shut behind her. Blast it. Damn them all. Why couldn’t they just leave? What was the problem with wanting to be alone? Alone, with no one to order her around, to mistrust her. To be wary of her. Why couldn’t they just go? Angrily, she stalked over to a dresser, having entered a small bedroom, and she yanked open a drawer, spilling its contents on the floor. A second drawer followed and then the third and she grabbed hold of articles of clothing and flung them about, wanting to shriek and rip and tear. Bottles and vials of liquids and lotions littered the dresser top and she flung those about, not caring where they landed, nor if they broke. She staggered over to a wardrobe and pulled those doors open as well, dragging clothes from hangers and off shelves and tossing them about as well, flinging long skirts and dresses, wonderfully shiny jewelry. All of it for a moment of peace, even if it meant destroying the room. All of it. All of it. One moment of peace. One. And Palin. She wanted Palin to be alive again, to speak to her and care for her as if she were a small child. He had seemed so young and yet so wise. And she had been safe under his care. Carefree and unafraid. Now she was alone, hysterical, in an abandoned elf refuge, surrounded by mounds of clothes and tears streaking down her face. When had she begun to cry? When she had become so weak that tearing clothes had made her rage like an insolent child and weep like a frail babe? She staggered over to the dresser once more and in the moonlight she gazed at herself in the silent mirror upon its surface, not recognizing the image that gazed back. When had she started to look so old? Withered? She stared, lips parting, shoulders heaving for a simple full breath, and trembling, she lifted a hand to her face. Her skin felt like her own, fingers passing over such dark circles under her eyes, and her hair was blacker than midnight. She did not wish to see. She did not wish to know. But she felt, deep inside, the stirring, and she began to breathe faster, fearfully. Her hair was black, much too black. And her eyes seemed to darken the more she stared but it was the moonlight, teasing her. Making her see what was not there. It had to be. And deep inside she suddenly wanted to laugh. A deep mirthless laugh, it bubbled inside, wishing to escape. Instead, with a pained cry, she lifted a vial of wonderfully clear liquid upon the dresser top and she flung it at the mirror, recoiling as it smashed into a thousand pieces. The vial broke as well and she was splattered and splintered with perfume and glass, small pricks of pain stinging up her arms. She fell away from her destruction, falling to the floor, and she came to herself, staring in disbelief. The room was littered with clothing and bottles, and glass as well now. She heaved, eyes wide, gazing about senselessly, not understanding when she had gone insane and trashed the room. But the tears were wet upon her face and, feeling those, she allowed more to rise, leaning against the single bed in the room for comfort and weeping into its comforter. She wore white and was pale as the moon. She was the moon. Her limbs were white as snow, longer and slender. She seemed frail. A simple maiden waiting for their someone special to sweep them off their feet. It was not destined of her but at the very least she was allowed to dream. And the dreams were bittersweet. Of a darkness and anger, a strange period of time when armies clashed and a single ring held the power to free all of Middle Earth or enslave it. And then the dreams became a brilliant white, banishing the darkness and the world was green, the sky blue. Hail Isildur, Son of Elendil. The Elven King Gil-Galad, whose blood was spilt in the Battle of Dagorlad. Hail all Men and Elves. That the One Ring has passed though the darkness dwells still. How beautiful the war had been, and the blood that had stained the armors of the races of Men and Elves alike. How marvelous the purple sky that had been witness to the defeat of Sauron. And when Isildur had fallen into greed and been betrayed by the One Ring. How fitting. How the tides of change and Fate herself worked to bring about destiny. She stared at the moon, gazing blankly into the sky. The room had a dome shaped ceiling and elven figures had been cut into it, revealing the moon as she beckoned above. The first night after Sauron’s fall had been their undoing. And she gazed still, torn between the black midnight and the pale dawn. Legolas stared with a small frown, not understanding what he saw. Surely his eyes were deceiving him as he stood in the shadows, gazing out into the pools of moonlight created by the elven figures in the ceiling. Her hair was long and thick, trailing down her back, and she was clothed in a white gown. Standing in the moonlight she seemed like an Elven Queen of old, admiring the orb of night hanging low in the dark sky. She was radiant, shimmering with an inner light, and her dress trailed far behind her, a crown of leaves about her temples. She lifted her long arms, rising up straight and she threw her head back as if inhaling the sweetness of the night. Somehow the night was then complete and she bowed her head, twirling about to a strange music that he did not hear though he wished with all his heart he could. She spun about, as nimble as a pixie, swaying in the moonlight and her eyes were closed, a sweet smile upon her face. She was home, he felt. At peace with the lilting melody only she could hear, dancing for herself and no one else. He wanted to be with her in that moment, see her world and compare it to his world of dreams. And for the smallest moment he heard her song and his heart was filled with awe for the beauty of it. And she spoke softly, voice trembling sadly. Hail he who would set me free and bind me, who would let me live and slay me. Hail the sky and the stone, the light and dark. And hail my silver dragon, for one comes who would deliver me. Legolas blinked, straining to understand and in that moment the world changed, shifted, and he was still standing in the shadow but Jei was in the moonlight, gazing up at the moon. Her shoulder length black hair fell straight about the sides of her face and the expression on her face was one of great sorrow. Her black robe hung from her slender form, the two blades strapped to her back still. He bowed his head, not understanding and there was much he did not grasp but he felt it would be the end of him if he did not comprehend soon. Cautiously, he took a step and he was silent, creeping up behind her and then merely coming to stand at her side. She was aware of him, this he knew, and as he paused beside her she shook her head, tears in her eyes. “I lose myself, at times,” she whispered, still gazing fixedly at the moon. Her skin was pale in the moonlight, smooth alabaster, and her eyes were a subtle blue. “I lose all hope and I indulge in the darkness. I am safe there.” He gazed at her sorrowfully as she bowed her head away from the moon, her hair falling about her face and shielding her from him. “And I do not wish to be there but it comforts me for I know that where I go, I am unsafe. I fear the path, and to walk it requires more strength than I possess,” she murmured, tears streaming down her face. “I wish for Palin and I know he will not return. And I wish for strength but I am told it is within.” She shook her head. “It is too deep inside, Legolas. I find not the strength.” Legolas gazed at her gently, and he lifted a hand, his fingers hesitating a hair’s breadth from her. “That I would be your strength, if you would have me,” he said to her quietly. “For where you go I will follow and where you fall, there will I mourn.” Jei’s shoulders shook at his words and silently she turned to him and she pressed her face to his chest, feeling cold inside and reaching for his warmth as he embraced her gently. For the moment it was enough and she allowed herself to be lost in his arms but even as she did so her chain blazed against her bare skin and she did not know which burned hotter, the chain or his embrace. And for the moment, she did not care. |
| *Could you let down your hair and be transparent for awhile Just a little while To see if you’re human after all… |
| * Disclaimer - Lyrics to Trying property of Lifehouse. In my opinion you should have this song playing when this part comes up because it adds to the atmosphere... |
| All images and works done/altered by ShiNoFuriko and TasogareBan. Please do not steal and always give credit to where it is due. |