Chapter Eighteen: Difficult Decisions

A lone, unmoving figure stood on a rise of ground at the edge of the forest. Tall… lithe… beautiful, the wind teased strands of his golden hair, blowing them across his bright grey eyes. Slowly, a hand raised and long fingers tucked the rebellious strands behind his delicately-pointed ears, before slowly lowering once more. He stared into the distance, looking to the west as the sun sank into the horizon. A frown creased his brow, and a low groan came from deep within him as the yearning took over his heart.

Did he truly have a heart, or was it just an empty throbbing hole? A continuous pain that only grew as he dwelled on the ache. Only one thing was there...the sea. Always the sea. In his mind he could hear the crash of the waves, smell the salt in the air and hear the cries of the gulls.

Legolas had been back in Ithilien for six weeks. During that time he had regained no memories. Tathar was familiar as Estel had been familiar. At times he almost felt he remembered the warden of Asgarnen, who had been his friend for most of his life, but whenever Legolas tried to grasp for the teasing memories, they fled, leaving him empty and confused.

Tathar continued serving in the position of leadership in Asgarnen. Legolas, having no memories of the place, was not in a position to resume his command. He had become a Lord in name only, serving no purpose to the people he did not know. As the weeks went by, he began to develop a sense of detachment and took to exploring the wood that should have been home.

His father did his best to help him. Thraneduil went out of his way to remind Legolas of the things he had been told about Ithilien over the years, the things Legolas loved about this wood. Legolas did not know what had changed his father, but never once did Thranduil even mention the sea. He did not have to do so for it called and wooed Legolas all on its own. And when it became overwhelming, his father or sister stand by him in his pain. Legolas's tortured heart could not take this much longer.

A week after his return, Faramir and Eowyn came to see how he was fairing. Legolas was honest with them and told them nothing had changed. Both encouraged him to have faith and to be patient. He would remember in time. They were sure of the fact.

But Legolas was no longer sure. There was no way to know if he would ever regain his memories or if he would continue living in the confusion and pain he now suffered. He could not possibly serve in any capacity under these circumstances. It was getting hard to even function with such emptiness consuming him.

Lifting his head again towards the west, he let the song of the sea start to consume him. The pain of the longing was bittersweet. The song was beautiful, yet as it called to him, a pain throbbed in his heart. Slowly, he became aware of another ache there, and he searched his heart for the reason for it.

But no answer came. It all felt so vaguely familiar, but he could not remember.

And as he dwelt on the object of his desire, he softly questioned himself out loud. "Why am I still here?"

He had no answer and the agonizing pain and longing overwhelmed him. With great effort Legolas tried to push the sea to the back of his mind, but he could not, not even for a short time. Taking one final look west, and turning towards the trees, Legolas made his decision.

Tormented, he began the walk back to Asgarnen to speak to his father and Tathar. Arrangements would need to be made, packing would need to be done, and he would need to notify those who would wish to know of his decision.

He was sailing.

To Be Continued…