| Visions and Dreams: The Moon…the Blessed Moon… The night was cold, colder than it had been for quite some time. It froze her heart more than it did her flesh. It seemed an eternity had passed in the space of an hour, complete with its tragedies and gloom. She shivered, caught between the worlds, and she feared the dream world would spirit her away. To the lands of the dead. But the moon… Her eyes blinked open, fluttering. Her entire form was shaking. Her clothes were wet. And heavy. She felt as if their weight trapped her to the hard ground, holding her down. Against her will she trembled, her body stiff and she saw her breath coming in gasps of white mist, floating up into the darkness. The clouds had vanished and the moon hung in the sky in all her pale glory. Her eyes closed once more but she wanted to see. She wanted to gaze at the moon once more and whisper achingly. She was going to die. In this icy night, shivering, and frozen to her core, she was going to die. And with her, Legolas. Legolas. Her entire midsection tightened and she grimaced, whimpering painfully. She wasn’t going to be able to do it, not alone, not in the pain she was in. Beside her, her hand clenched and she held onto that, forcing it to move again, to pulse with some sort of life. But she felt nothing, her senses numbed, her limbs heavy. It could be over. It could be over soon, if she could just lie there, just give up. It wouldn’t hurt. The only thing that was hurting her at the moment was fighting this lull, struggling against it. With the awakening of her senses, her body, there would be pain as she came to revive. She did not wish for that anymore. It was too much, the task appointed to her. Palin should have known this. Palin should have known that she would not have been able to do it alone. But Palin had always had such faith in her, more faith than she had ever had in herself. And for what? He had known what had needed to be done. He should have known it was more than she could do by herself. Which was why Legolas was there. She came to a dead stop, a chill icier than the cold air surrounding her racing up her spine. Had Palin known? Had that child known, from the beginning, what was to happen? It had been his choice to be in the Prancing Pony that day, to stop for a little while even though they had only traveled an hour that day. Had he known she would be in need of companions? Her eyes slowly came open once more and the moon was brilliant. She relaxed, the stiffness leaving her body, her thoughts floating, drifting silently. How beautiful, to be embraced by the moon’s cool light, to feel as if one glowed. Legolas would understand. Would he be angry? She had never really seen him angry, did he ever feel anger? Elves were so soft and he was so kind. It had been too hard. He would under stand. But would he forgive her? Her hand twitched and she did not know if it was a good thing. It pained her to move, hadn’t she resigned herself to give up? For a moment she argued with herself to move. Lie. Just lie. It would end soon enough. But the sudden vision of blond hair and a gentle smile roused her, to the point of agony. To see it again, his smile, and to hear him speak even if it was to convince her that she was being stubborn. To hear him ask her to be stubborn once more. To hear him ask anything of her. And through a part in the veil of dream, a single question came to her. When had it stopped being about Mordor and become about Legolas? When had her thoughts all become centered about Legolas? And life suddenly swarmed through her, hands clenching into pained fists, back arching as she stiffened in agony, a whimpered cry breaking from her lips. The air was suddenly icier than the coldest winter and she had inhaled so much of it that it stung. It hurt. She settled slowly once more, but on her side, her left arm flailing outward blindly. Dirt. There was dirt under her skin, her hand, and she rolled over onto something hard, something that poked her in the middle of her back. Feeling sightlessly, her knuckles came into contact with something. Cloth. She groaned, wincing, and her vision cleared a bit in the darkness, enough to focus on blond hair. She achingly leaned away from the bulge in her back, rolling further, and she was stopped by another body beside her. The cloth her knuckles had scraped across was wet, just as wet and just as heavy as her own. But although she shivered and her teeth rattled together, the other figure did not. Fighting the urge to just stop there and press against the figure’s frame she gingerly, painfully, pulled herself closer, dragging her frame and feeling it somehow heavier than it should have been. Elves were practically immune to weather and he seemed only to sleep as she stared at him through weary eyes. His face was pale in the moonlight, his skin a faint blue, but he was beautiful. She gazed at him, mournful, merely watching him as he breathed shallowly. He lived still. And it was all that mattered then. That he lived still. Pausing, she tried to fit too much air into lungs that refused to expand. Her muscles were slowly cramping and for a moment it felt as if she was still in the water, struggling for one clear breath. It was not forthcoming and after several frightened moments in which she fought for consciousness, she began again. She flung one arm around him, shoving herself forward onto her stomach and her cheek pressed to his arm, against his side. He was so cold against her. Lifeless. Her other arm slithered up beside her and, clenching her teeth, she slowly lifted her upper body from the ground, her muscles screaming. She faltered for a moment, falling across his chest and, fearfully, she looked at him. He did not sleep for his eyes were closed. He was unconscious. Her eyes shifted down from his face, coming across the stained red circle upon his breast and she stared, blankly, for a moment not remembering what had happened. She had been afraid. In the darkness she had woken up, to find herself floating upon still water, the elf clutched in her embrace. She hadn’t known how far they had gone, how far back she had left Gimli and the hobbits. But she had come awake suddenly, terrified, and in the black of night she had dragged them both to shore, collapsing only once she had hauled them both to solid ground. And the bolt. She had ripped it from his form, tossing it aside before falling to the ground and allowing the moon to sweep her away. What had she been thinking, jumping after him like that? She was on the verge of death herself and the dream world still beckoned. Why? Why had she done it? One man, one elf, in exchange for all of Middle Earth? She lifted her eyes once more, fighting the sudden onslaught of tears but as they rose in her eyes they brought forth her heat, bringing life even if they cooled almost immediately. One elf for all of Middle Earth… And yes. One elf. One elf to bring about damnation. And if she were given another chance she would do it again. She would throw herself after him once more, if only to ensure that he did not perish. She would let the world die and wither away under the rule of the Ringwraiths for one small elf. And she asked herself again as her tears fell down her face, as she gazed upon his beautiful face. When had it all become about one elf? Palin forgive her for wanting him, for wanting it all to be over no matter how it ended. So long as it ended. And so long as she had the one elf. Bowing her head she realized then that she was weak after all. All this time she had tried to make him see her as an equal, as a skilled member of their own fellowship and for what? To discover that in the end she would gladly let it all end whether or not they accomplished their goal. He would be furious, angered that it had been for nothing, wouldn’t he? No, not angry. He would be disappointed. And once again she would be alone. Against her wishes her face began to crumble. Never again did she want him to see her cry. Never again. But he didn’t have to know this time around and he did not have to see. And so, with her fingers clutching his wet tunic into tight bunches she laid her cheek down against his chest and she wept for her weakness and for the fate of a world that was doomed to die in her hands. She had lit a fire. Against her very will, knowingly ignoring the voice in her head, she had lit a fire. It crackled now, feasting upon logs of wood she had salvaged. The night was one of the darkest she had ever been witness to but the glorious moon shone high and bright, never one to abandon. She shivered still but only because she sat nude, embracing herself, and feeling the heat from the fire. Her hands were raw, scraped, from lighting the flame. She had trembled and failed in her earlier attempts with two sharp stones, but once the spark had flared she had cared for it and fed it and now it was a strong fire. She lifted her gaze to the nearest tree and her eyes fixed upon her clothes, drying in the cool air. Beneath them stood Ivory and Ebony, propped up against the trunk, the crossbow lying at their feet along with the small pack she always carried. The small bit of ration in it had been soaked and useless, she knew. But in the pack as well was that small vial of clear liquid she had been ordered to carry in Rivendell. She didn’t even know what it was for. And Legolas slept on. She had wondered whether to undress him or not as well but she doubted he felt anything at all. The wound had worried her the most and she had found a few herbs to tend to it but not kingsfoil. He would not heal as quickly as he could. And, as for herself, she had discarded her own bandages, her stomach gash long on its way to healing, her shoulder aching. She would be left with large scars, no doubt, but she had her own share from passed events. This was one more notch on the trunk. She had fed on rabbit, and she had saved some for the elf but he had not woken yet and she feared the worst. She looked over to him once more now and wondered whether he was warmed enough by the flames. With a tiny grimace she rose, scooting closer and looking him over. There was color in his cheeks although he was still a bit too pale. Under her fingers his clothes were just about dry which made her wonder about her own. She did not wish for him to wake up and find her completely nude although if it happened, so be it. She looked back at the food left and wondered vaguely if Legolas even liked rabbit. If he liked anything at all. He was a mystery, always. She prided herself on the fact that she could usually tell what a person thought but he was a complete enigma. Shaking her head inwardly, she drew her knees in and embraced them, scanning the forest. If the Black Riders came she didn’t think she would be able to hold them off. But if it meant fighting for one more moment of life, then it would be worth it. She would be ready. The world was yellow and green. The sky was blue and the ground under his form was softer than he had ever known it to be. Off in the distance he heard the laughter of children, tinkly giggles, and singing as well, soft melodies echoing all about. He could not focus very well, though, and he parted his lips to speak, wanting to ask where he was and why he was forgetting something very important. So very important. “A silver dragon against the moon,” The voice that whispered to him was familiar but his memory of it just as fleeting as the previous. But it was a sweet voice nonetheless, soft and tender. It enveloped him lovingly, and he was not afraid. But still, he could not focus on the master of the voice, nor his surroundings, and he was disturbed. The blue sky was ethereal, and the sunlight coming through in shafts between tree branches was a scintillating blinding silver. Everything he could see was bursting with thick color and the world had never been this vivid. The laughter far away was even more beautiful with this color and he knew then. He dreamed. Only in his dreams could everything be as surreal. “Of flesh, blood, wisdom and magic,” His eyes flickered for he did not understand. Was it a song he had heard once? No, she did not sing. She chanted, as if reading from a manuscript and her voice was full of husky layers, repeating eerily but beautifully. Whispering ever so gently, her voice carried on a tender breeze, floating around him, and his hair was lifted, released to float down onto his lips. His eyes flickered once more against the brilliance of his surroundings, and he still could not see her. But he felt her, felt her to be close by as if guarding him. ”Two for one under sky and stone,” He didn’t want to understand, he realized. He had never been this muddled nor felt so lost, and in this feeling of vertigo he did not wish to make sense of what she said. His only desire was to see this woman who hovered close by and, after her, to understand what place he was in. He wanted to laugh like those children in the distance. When was the last time he had laughed like that? “Where the light and darkness wreak their havoc.” And suddenly, his vision came into focus and he could move. A tree hung over him, a weeping willow, and through her hanging arms the sunlight was indeed silver. And the weeping willow wept, drops of water falling from her stems, her branches and leaves. And when the breeze danced around her she seemed to laugh, shaking merrily. He did not understand. Beyond the reaching willow a single cloud marred the blue sky and he blinked, for he did not understand why the cloud was alone. His head slowly lolled to the side, searching, and there she was with her knees drawn to her chest, her slender form wrapped in material of the finest silk, white as the pure moon. Her hair cascaded down her back and around her shoulders, tumbling in thick dark waves and in the exquisite sunlight it shone brown, mahogany, and he did not understand why he had a different vision of her in his mind. But when she turned her face to look down at him, it was indeed her and she looked…right. Her blue eyes laughed wonderfully and under her hair peeked long, elven ears. He gazed at her, mesmerized. “It is early, yet. Or already quite late,” she said to him in that musical voice and her smile was impish, eyes shining. He hesitated, blinking at her in confusion. “I was…waiting for someone…” he whispered and his look was tender. He felt strangely lethargic for nothing made sense and he did not wish for it to make sense. He wanted to merely exist, warmed by her light. Only for a small time, that very moment. Another moment. “You are still waiting,” she replied and she lowered her knees slowly before turning onto her side to face him. Her gown whispered across the grass and she sighed as she settled herself beside him. “But you know that you should not be.” He blinked at her once more in gentle confusion. “Shouldn’t I be?” She smiled once more, and her hand, slender and soft, lifted to cup his face, her thumb grazing his cheekbone. Even her touch was silken, warm, and he allowed her, inhaling her scent and feeling the sun warm him. She ran a finger along the side of his face, over his skin, and she whispered faintly, “You can not come with me when I go. You will have another place to be and you will go without me. Do not wait for me but be wary for I will surprise you yet.” His eyes had started to close wearily as she spoke but they came open once more as a sudden vision of her appeared to him, of her standing in a shaft of autumn sunlight in Rivendell, dancing, her long hair floating. His lips parted as he gazed at her and in the tiniest voice he said, “I…know you…” Her expression almost became a grimace. “You…know me?” she echoed, still smiling but it was a mask and he saw clear through it. “No, my prince, not yet. You know not my name, even-“ He shook his head quickly, sitting up in a fluid movement and her hand fell away as she merely gazed at him, the smile slipping. “But I do. I do know you, your name. Your name. It is-“ And he hesitated, eyes darting to the side. For all around them everything seemed to stop, pausing as if awaiting his answer. The world hung in silence, frozen in time, the willow tree hanging upon a slight breeze. Even the children’s laughter has ceased and when his gaze returned to hers, she waited as well, lips parted fearfully. “Jei…” he whispered. In the space of a moment, the blink of an eye, the world was black. A sudden shift. And in that fleeting moment he saw her as she had once been, strewn across a stone slab, tied down. Her face was white with death’s pallor and her lips…he felt himself recoil in sudden pain, pure emotional pain so strong it seemed physical in this strange world. Her lips were sewn shut and heavy stones rested upon her closed eyelids but she heaved, body arching and draped in black, surrounded on all side by nine figures in black. “Jeinen…” he uttered and he did not understand how he knew but he did. She shook her head as he went to say more and she lifted a finger quickly, resting it upon his lips. “That is not my name,” she whispered softly and he lifted his eyes to hers, squinting suddenly as the black world vanished in another blink, as the silver sunlight returned. “Then…what is your name?” he asked her, and he moved quickly, face inches away from hers. He spoke around her finger, staring at her in confusion. She hesitated, her eyes on her finger, on his lips. “My name…” she murmured and she seemed as suddenly flustered as him, lost in racing thought. “No.” And she shook her head. “No, it is late.” He reached out, feeling as if he needed to restrain her for she pulled away but not physically. She was withdrawing and he still did not understand. “It is not late until I say it is late. Until I wish to leave. And I do not wish to leave, not before I have your name.” And he lifted his hands slowly, his fingers passing over her face, brushing her skin. “One name. Your name.” Her pale eyes shifted, gazing into his tremulously, and he felt her finger drop away from his mouth, grazing his lip before pulling back entirely. But instead of answering him she leaned forth, causing him to stare wide-eyed. But she passed his mouth, his jaw and she whispered, “You will have my name when I feel I can give it.” And she went into his arms, into his embrace, her lips grazing his temple softly. “Awaken.” |
| All images and works done/altered by ShiNoFuriko and TasogareBan. Please do not steal and always give credit to where it is due. |