I just want to feel safe in my own skin,
I just want to be happy again
I just want to feel deep in my own world
But I'm so lonely
I don't even want to be with myself anymore
On a different day,
if I was safe in my own skin,
then I wouldn't feel lost and
so frightened
But this is today and I'm lost in my own skin
And I'm so lonely
I don't even want to be with myself anymore
I just want to feel safe in my own skin,
I just want to be happy again.
-- Dido – honestly ok
The plains
Theodred had been riding his poor horse almost to the point of exhaustion, and as the sun set, he realized he would have to set camp. He found a spot that would keep them all safe from the night winds that swept across the plains, and gently dismounted the horse as he lifted the elf down too.
He didn't know if the elf would wake or not, so he decided to build a fire and prepare some food. He did not know much about healing the spirit and body of someone, but he knew that food and rest were never a bad thing. So he placed Legolas on the ground, but frowned as the elf let out a pitiful whimper when he made contact with the ground. – What if the elf woke? What if he ran off? He couldn't risk that. Theodred stopped in his thoughts and sat down next to the elf, wondering what he should do. He decided to just try and make a fire with the branches here, and not venture too far away.
He looked at the little fire he had made, and decided that a little fire was better than no fire at all. He sat down once more opposite the elf, and pulled out the dried meat from his saddlebag. He smiled as the elf stirred in his coma-like sleep. At least he was still alive.
Legolas felt a steady rise in the pain he had felt for as long as he remembered... confused images flashed before his eyes. A little part of him wondered if he had gone insane.
Theodred watched as the elf began to move about and whimper more than before. What was he to do? What did you do with a dying elf that was in pain? He could come up with no other reasoning than to move nearer to the elf in case he could be of assistance or comfort. He quickly moved to the elf's side, and began to tenderly caress the elf's forehead, but it did not seem to lessen the seizure. He slowly began to hum a tune, and strangely enough that seemed to help, so he took a deep breath and started singing, the first and best song he remembered.
As I went out walking, one morning in June
To view the fair fields, and the valleys in bloom;
I spied a pretty fair maid, she appeared like a queen,
With her costly fine robes and her mantle so green.
Says I, my pretty fair maid, wont you come with me,
We'll both join in wedlock, and married we'll be;
I will dress you in fine linen, you'll appear like a queen,
With your costly fine robes and your mantle so green.
Says she, now my young man, you must be excused,
For I'll wed no man, so you must be refused;
To the green woods I will wander and shun all men's view
For the boy I love dearly lies in farmed waterloo.
From far away Legolas heard the song. It puzzled him that this soft voice was connected to these horrid images that kept swimming his mind. He fought to open his eyes, to see where this sound was coming from. He heard his own voice groan as he fluttered open his eyes and looked directly up into a face. Dark hair fell down on both sides of the pale face. At first he thought it was an elf, but after moment it appeared to him that the song made no sense, and that those little hairs he could see on the other face were the mark of a mortal – this was a human man!
Theodred noticed the elf panic and he grabbed the slender figure. "Don't... I mean you no harm," he said softly, but it didn't help. The elf just seemed to panic more. Theodred bit his lip, and tried to remember those times he had met a ranger or such, who mastered the elven language.
That language! It had been the same sounds the men who had treated him so terribly had uttered. This one's voice did not seem so wicked, though, and he did look more worried than predatory, but Legolas was still not convinced.
"All right, here goes nothing," Theodred mumbled and smiled nervously down at the terrified elf. If only he could remember the elvish word for friend... Ah yes! "Mushroom!" he said with a triumphant smile.
Mushroom? What was the man on about? But Legolas couldn't help but be slightly amused and relaxed somewhat. He nodded weakly.
Finally he had made contact, Theodred thought to himself. It was amazing! Now if he only had one of the scholars, or better yet a ranger, or another elf, it would be just perfect. The elf didn't answer but at least he looked less frightened.
"Theodred, mushroom," he repeated and pointed at himself.
Legolas couldn't help but smile, even though the situation didn't really call for it. He made a weak attempt to make the sign for Legolas, but the man didn't seem to care or understand.
This was going better than he had imagined, and Theodred was proud of himself, finally there was something he had mastered! – Now all they had to do was to wait for daybreak so they could travel the last bit to Rohan. – Oh what an idiot he was, he had forgotten to offer the elf some food. He pulled up the piece of dried meat from his pocket he had been eating himself and offered it to the elf, but the elf just turned his head, and closed his eyes. "You are not hungry, I reckon," Theodred mumbled and took a bite of the meat himself. The elf's breathing became shallow again, and the young man figured he was sleeping once more. "Yes, you get some rest before we ride again."
On the way to Rivendell
Elrond was watching his eldest son closely; Elladan looked like he was brooding. He had been looking like that ever since they had left Mirkwood. Elrond had tried to speak with him, but had only been brushed off gently every time. It was apparent that Elladan did not wish to discuss this. Elrond wondered why Elladan had insisted on leaving without telling Elrohir, but there Elrond had not obliged, he had not wanted to leave without telling his son. Elladan was acting most oddly. How on earth could Elrond get him to tell what was wrong?
Mirkwood
"Finally alone," Dinalu sighed as he flopped down in a large green chair.
"Dina," Elrohir answered with a annoyed expression as he walked to the window and opened it so the night air rushed into their bedroom. "I know you don't like him much, but he is my brother."
"Brother, smother," Dinalu answered and kicked off his boots. "I tell you he is up to something, and it's nothing good."
Elrohir turned around and frowned. "Don't speak like that, Elladan is my twin and I love him dearly, do not speak so of him!"
"I'll speak of him as I like, Elrohir," Dinalu sneered. "I realise you love your brother, but you do not need to be blind to the truth!"
"I am not blind," Elrohir yelled, "it is you who is so caught up in your own, that you cannot understand that Elladan just misses me as much as I miss him!"
Dinalu paled and flushed in a second. "Then why did you ever leave him?" he hissed.
"Because I wanted to go with you," Elrohir sneered, "but I honestly thought that my family would be welcome in our home."
"And they are," Dinalu answered flatly.
"Apparently only parts of my family," Elrohir said.
"No," Dinalu said and closed his eyes, rubbing his temples. "But I don't have to love your brother, do I?"
"No," Elrohir mumbled, "but you don't have to hate him either."
"Listen, Elrohir," Dinalu said and stood up and walked towards Elrohir in the window sill. "If you worry this much, why don't you just follow them to Rivendell?" He paused as he stood in front of his husband. "Just be sure to come back to me," he added softly.
"I will think about it," Elrohir said.
"About leaving or about coming back?" Dinalu asked.
"Both," Elrohir said and looked miserable.
Dinalu sighed and looked and the sky behind Elrohir. "So be it," he whispered.
Site Info
We are the home of 1292 authors from among our 2552 members. There have been 2904 reviews written about our 3820 stories consisting of 10734 chapters and 29400445 words. A special welcome to our newest member, Rosamundeb.Categories
Skin Change
Donate
Help us keep one of the oldest running LotR archives available to all. Even the smallest donation helps!
Many thanks to our previous donors!
Many thanks to our previous donors!
The Library, elsewhere
Other projects
Harvester of Sorrow by Azzy
Chapter notes: The song "her mantle so green" is a trad irish (I think) folk song. I only used some of the lyrics here.
Hugs Az
