Chapter Seven

Legolas suddenly became aware of his own existence. He looked around him and saw only darkness. He sensed no walls nor did he sense open air. He focused his hearing but could detect no overt sounds. There was nothing but a deafening silence, so palpable it was like a distant muffled roar in his ears. He had never experienced such a phenomenon before, and he almost laughed to think that total silence could be so loud.

Where was he? He had to think hard to try and recall how he came to be here, wherever ‘here’ was. *Why do I not remember?* Legolas felt himself rapidly growing frustrated.

He noted with anticipation that the darkness was beginning to fade. But, instead of revealing his whereabouts, his eyes were met with a world of swirling gray. He shook his head, but he couldn’t feel it. Nor, he realized with dismay, could he feel his body. He looked down, but saw nothing. He held his hands up in front of his face, at least that was the command he had given to his brain. There was no sense of movement and nothing to see. His mind seemed to be suspended in space, yet there was no sensation of floating. *How very strange,* he mused.

As he pondered the implications, a feeling of panic began to crawl through his mind. *Am I dead?* He dismissed the thought almost immediately. *This cannot be the Halls of Mandos. I should be seeing others of my kind waiting for me.* He thought of his mother. Surely, she would be there to welcome him. And his grandfather, Oropher, as well as friends he had lost to battles fought during his lifetime. This was nothing like what he had been led to believe the Halls would be like. Had he done something to cause himself to be condemned? Was that what he couldn’t remember? Was this gray nothingness a place of punishment where he must wander alone, without a body, for all eternity?

Legolas made a conscious effort to banish those dark thoughts and try to come up with an alternate possibility. *Perhaps, I’m not dead after all.* Before he could gain much comfort from exploring that idea, he thought, *Then, why am I not able to see or feel my body?*

All the questions with no answers were only adding to his confusion. “I do not understand any of this.” He was startled, when he realized he had spoken out loud. A grim smile touched his lips, as it then dawned on him that at least he could hear his own voice. He again looked down to where his body should be in the hopes that it had made itself visible. No such luck.

He looked up then and saw a form moving in this gray world. It was only a shadow at first, just something indistinct that was only slightly darker than the gray color all about him. The shadow undulated, disappearing from sight and then reappearing a few seconds later only to vanish once again, making Legolas doubt he had really seen anything at all. Staring hard into the grayness, he saw that there definitely was something, and it was coming toward him. It became larger and darker and took on a more definite shape as it neared. The elf stared, mesmerized by the rapidly solidifying apparition.

Legolas may not have been able to see his body, but he suddenly felt it quite plainly. His heart almost came to a full stop, causing a jolt within his chest, and his breathing became shallow and rapid, as he saw what was approaching him. The form had finally coalesced into a huge black snake, rising up and hovering menacingly above him, yellow eyes gleaming and fangs extended. It radiated an evil that he could almost taste.

Without warning, it lunged straight down toward his upturned face. He heard a blood curdling scream and knew it was his own.

Then, awareness fled, as he was enveloped in a coccoon of nothingness.

~*~*~

Legolas became aware of his own existence once again. There was no way to tell if he had been unaware for a minute or a millennium. He struggled to open his eyes, expecting to see either the darkness or the gray world he remembered. He was certain there had been something else, too, an evil form of some kind, but he couldn’t place what it was. The memory vanished before he could grasp it. He only knew that the thought of it made him shiver.

The elf prince was surprised, when he found himself in a world of light. Very bright light. Where was he now? The wall of light didn’t surround him the way the darkness and the grayness had done but instead seemed to be concentrated to his left. It hurt his eyes, but it was so welcome that he forced himself to endure the stabbing pain, as he struggled to keep his eyes open. It didn’t take long, however, for the pain to force him to turn his head away from it. The most intense part of the brilliance faded to a manageable level as he slowly turned his head to the right.

He saw a form above and beside him, and he flinched back. Was this the thing he feared in that other place? No, he soon reasoned. This form didn’t radiate the evil he had felt from the one he couldn‘t quite remember. His tensed muscles began to relax just a little. Until he understood where he was now and who or what was there with him, he couldn’t relax competely.

Legolas blinked several times until slowly, very slowly, the form beside him began to come into focus. A human, dark-haired. He stared, as if not sure the human was real. He was suddenly afraid the apparition would vanish, and he would be left alone again. The fear of isolation terrified him. He blinked again. The human was still there. Still, a touch of fear remained in his eyes.

“Am I really here?* he asked himself. He needed to know, so he brought his hands up and held them bare inches from his face. *I can see my hands.* A quick glance down revealed the shapes of two legs and two feet under the covers. An overwhelming wave of relief flooded through him. He had a body!

Legolas was almost afraid to move his hands out of his sight for fear they would disappear, but keeping them in front of his face like this was impractical, so he lowered them, though somewhat reluctantly. He stared at the human again, realizing then, who it was that sat beside him. It was Estel, his best friend. His heart skipped a beat with the sudden joy that came close to swamping him, but for some reason, he couldn’t make his face reflect the joy his heart felt. He wanted to frown in frustration but couldn’t manage that, either.

Aragorn was unable to contain his own joy at seeing that his friend’s eyes were open. Watching the elf examine his hands with a sense of wonder---or was it relief?---bewildered him. So did the different emotions that chased each other rhrough the depths of his friend’s eyes. But, just then, it didn’t matter. Legolas had awakened, and he recognized the ranger.

“Legolas.” The elf’s name was spoken with all the feeling Aragorn’s overflowing heart could command. A huge smile split his face. “Legolas,” he said again, this time saying the name so softly it was like a breath.

“Estel.” Legolas's voice confirmed the recognition. It sounded more like a raspy croak than the normally melodic voice of the Mirkwood prince. His mouth was as dry as a desert, and it was sore.

“Yes, Legolas. It’s me.” Aragorn slid his hand on top of the elf’s but didn‘t grasp it. The ranger’s smile soon faded, when he reached toward the elf’s face with his other hand to touch his cheek and give his friend a reassuring caress.

In that instant, all Legolas saw was a slender form coming toward his face. Without fully understanding why, he jerked his head away from Aragorn and gave a small cry of panic. He knew who it was, but his reaction was done without conscious thought. He had no idea why he felt such terror at the gesture. Estel was his best friend, a man into whose hands he had placed his life many times and would do so again without question. Estel would never hurt him. Yet, he couldn’t have stopped his reaction, even if he had been given the chance.

Aragorn pulled his hand back quickly, not understanding but not wanting to do anything that would upset his friend. The elf made no effort to pull his right hand from under the ranger’s, so he either wasn’t fully aware of the touch yet or that type of contact didn’t bother him. Aragorn didn’t know which was true, but he had no intention of questioning Legolas about it.

Fear slowly faded from Legolas's eyes, as he realized he was in a bed. Bewildered, he looked back at Estel and asked, “Where...?”

The archer heard a soft noise off to his left. He saw a raven-haired elf come through the wall of light to stand beside the bed. “You’re back in Rivendell,” Elladan said quietly. He had the same broad smile that was still on Estel’s face. “It’s so good to see you awake, mellon nin.”

Legolas nodded toward Elladan. Wanting to say something to his long time friend in return, the blond elf swallowed several times, wincing a bit as he did so. “Thirsty.” It seemed that all he could manage to get out was one word at a time.

Elladan picked up the pitcher on the nightstand by the bed and poured water into a cup that had been sitting beside it. He slipped his hand under Legolas's shoulders and lifted him up enough for the elf to drink from the cup. The elven prince drank every drop of the water. He shook his head when asked if he wanted any more.

“Thank you, Elladan.” He opened his mouth to say more but couldn’t get any words to come out.

Just then, Elrond came hurrying into the room with Elrohir right behind him. Both elves smiled to see that Legolas was truly awake. It was something that all of them had hoped for with all their being.

Elrond approached the bed slowly, not wanting it to appear that he was swooping down upon the young elf, who he suspected might still be somewhat bewildered. He wasn’t wrong in that assumption.

Legolas stared at him, and even though his expression didn’t change, there was also recognition in his eyes for the elf Lord and Elrohir beside him. Both now wore the same smile that dominated the faces of Estel and Elladan.

There was no thought of asking the prince if he could remember what had happened. Considering what Elrond knew about the origin of Legolas's condition, he was sure it would take time for the young elf to be able to talk about it. Coming to terms with it and placing it in the past would take a lot longer. He knew that fact from experience, though not from the viewpoint of a victim, which had to be far worse. There was no fear in the archer’s eyes, so Elrond felt sure that for the time being, at least, Legolas didn’t remember what had taken place.

“You’ve no idea how...” Estel started to say long, but decided not to inform him just yet that he had been unconscious for almost two weeks. So instead, he said, “...much we’ve wanted to see those beautiful elven eyes of yours open.”

Legolas spoiled Aragorn’s hopes with his next question. “How long have I been here?” His voice almost gave out just from putting those few words together, despite the refreshing water Elladan had given him.

“We can talk about that later,” Elladan replied, trying to steer the younger elf away from the subject.

The blond would have none of it and shook his head. “How long?”

*Stubborn elf* Aragorn thought but then realized that it was probably that famous Greenleaf stubbornness that was responsible for the elf’s awakening.

Estel looked at his father, who gave an almost imperceptible shrug. He decided that avoiding the subject would probably be more aggravating for Legolas than the answer was likely to be.

“Thirteen days,” Aragorn said simply, not sure what the reaction would be. He decided not to mention that he had also been unconscious for four days before that while on the road back to Rivendell.

Legolas greeted Estel’s words with a more intense expression of disbelief. *Thirteen days?* How could he have been unconscious that long? Wouldn’t he have starved by then? Even being an elf and not having to eat as much or as often as mortals, he still would have needed food to sustain his body during all that time. He knew, though, that Estel was telling him the truth. His weary mind told him he would have to ask about that later.

Elrond moved a bit closer to the bed. “I know this may sound strange to you, considering how long you have been unconscious, but you need to sleep. Good healing sleep,” he added firmly. “I know you are confused, Legolas, and I am sure you are full of questions, but after you have some genuine rest, you will feel more able to deal with everything.” Legolas's mouth, for the most part, was already healed. It was the elf’s mind and spirit, more so than his body, that needed true rest.

Elrond regarded the young elf with a stern yet fatherly expression. It was obvious that he would not take no for an answer. As if to confirm that fact, he crossed his arms over his chest. Everyone, even a confused elf who had just come out of a deep coma, knew what that meant.

Legolas had to bow to Elrond‘s wisdom and nodded. No matter how much he wanted answers to all the questions that were colliding inside his head or how much he wanted to remain awake to be with his friends, he was exhausted. He had fought so long and so hard to return to the light and perhaps to survive, he couldn’t muster the strength to fight sleep.

The blond warrior locked eyes with Estel. After a few seconds, he again attempted to smile. This time he got the corners of his mouth to cooperate. They barely lifted and many would have missed it, but Estel did not.

Legolas's eyelids began to droop. He slipped his hand from under Estel’s and laid it on top, squeezing his friend’s hand. There wasn’t much strength behind the move, but it was enough for Estel to understand that Legolas was saying ‘thank you’. The elf may never know all that the ranger had done for him, but he knew Estel. He knew the love, loyalty and unselfishness the man would have put into trying to bring him back.

Legolas surrendered to the true sleep his body was craving, and he finally closed his eyes. His chest rose and fell in an easy rhythm, and there was a collective sigh from everyone in the room. Only the fact that his eyes were closed spoke of true exhaustion and not regular elven sleep.

“Quel kaima, mellon nin,” Estel whispered.

Even though he looked the same way he had for all these past days, Aragorn knew that the elf was getting the kind of sleep he needed. He tried not to think about the fact his spirit may have been damaged in some way by his experience, whatever it had been. He knew by the terrifying incident out on the balcony that it must have been horrendous. Only time would reveal just how horrendous.

Aragorn forced the thoughts away. This was the time for happiness, not the time for borrowing trouble where none may even exist. However, he did say a prayer to the Valar that Legolas's sleep would not be invaded by dark dreams and nightmares.

~*~*~

Aragorn never left Legolas's side, as the elf slept until late afternoon of the next day. Instead of the death-like stillness he had been lost in before, this time he acted the same as any other sleeping creature. He occasionally shifted his body, moved an arm, a leg and turned his head from time to time. Once he even burrowed down farther under the covers and moaned contentedly, which drew a happy smile from Estel.

In fact, each of the elf’s moves, no matter how small, brought a smile to Estel’s face and lifted his heart just a little bit more. He had convinced himself that when Legolas finally woke up again, he would be the same elf he had known for years.

 TBC