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L U M O R N E L

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My eyes fluttered open.

A gray-white sky expanded overhead, a network of winter branches running across the firmament like cracks. The sun was somewhere off to the right, bleeding its wondrous light across the cloudless expanse. Vaguely, I was aware of grass tickling my ear and a slight cold breeze freezing my nose and...

Middle-earth! I'm back home!

The giddy laugh that suddenly wanted to burst out of me was cut short as the last two years sludged forward, almost grudgingly. And under a blurry haze. Of course, I'm not just now returning, though it certainly feels like I am. Recalling upon the last couple years was like swimming through a deep and cloudy viscous pool. I could see those past events, but only when close enough or if the emotions attached were strong enough.

I frowned, that must have been what the Valar had warned me about... two years without a memory... but why? None of them, over the course of seven years, had given me a hint as to what I would be facing or why. Stubborn, resolute Ainur.

I turned my head to the side and closed my eyes, completely relishing the feel of grass brushing my cheek, the smell of the woods, and the way the sun tinted my vision a pale rose under my lids. Smiling, I opened my eyes.

An elf with golden hair paced silently by my side, so close he appeared as tall as a tree. His face was contorted with worry, his eyes narrowed in thought, but he was as familiar as my own hand.

And he was beautiful.

My heart surged in my chest, tears pricking my eyes as I finally saw him—truly saw him—for the first time in seven—nine—years.

Before I could even register it, I leapt to my feet.

"Legolas!!"

As I ran, he turned in surprise, his blue irises alighting with shock and more than a little bit of surprise.

I crashed into him, throwing my arms around him as he stumbled backward.

Valar, I thought as I felt his real, solid body against mine, his hair whispering against my cheek, and his honey warmth as I buried my face into his neck. He's real, he's really here.

A lump formed in my throat and hot tears began their fast descent down my cheeks, but I couldn't stop smiling. My cheeks felt ready to split from the grin's sheer force. I gripped him even tighter.

"Lumornel?" He managed to say, his hands hovering just over my back.

Memories, foggy and not very clear, resurfaced. Him in despair over me not knowing him, his anger, his care. Last night; us sitting close as we knew my end was fast approaching. Oh, how wrong we were.

"I remember," I cried, the words rushing out of me in a torrent. If I could have possibly clutched him tighter than I already was, I would have. "I remember, I remember!"

He went stock still.

For some reason, he tried to pull away, but I wouldn't let him. I couldn't let go of the way I could feel him, tangible under my hands, not a dream conjured up by the mind. Real, right here in my arms. Finally!

"How many hard sweets did you manage to eat in one sitting?"

I froze at the question, my grip on him slackening. He took the moment to unhook me, holding my wrists firmly in front of his green-clad chest.

His face was so severe, not anywhere near the way I remembered it—cloudy memories bubbled up and suddenly, the sharp angles of his face weren't so unfamiliar. My heart broke.

"Oh, Legolas."

"Answer the question," He said in a voice like stone. As if he didn't want to accept that I was back or didn't fully believe it.

I stared at him, long enough that I heard a soldier shuffle. He's so broken.

"Well..." I began, feeling my face, neck, and ears warm, "they weren't hard candies...they were taffies... and I ate—" I cringed and dropped my voice to a whisper "—twenty-seven."

"I thought I told you not to tell anyone," I hissed, giving a meaningful glance at those watching our spectacle. But I couldn't manage the menace behind the words. Legolas looked so worn and... and I was right here with him.

His visage melted in a matter of seconds, his eyes taking in my blush, my cringe, and suddenly he was gritting his teeth as his eyes filled with something glossy and bright.

"It really is you," he breezed, voice thick. His lips wobbled for the briefest of seconds and—

He pulled me to his chest, cocooning me with his Legolas-y warmth and woodsy smell. He gripped me just as tight as I was holding him, his bowman fingers clutching at my shirt, my waves of hair.

It only took me half a moment to realize that his hard shaking was silent, wracking sobs.

I clung to him, trying to hold him together. All my years of imagining our reunion—knowing, but almost ignoring, that Legolas might cry upon seeing me again and I still was caught by surprise. In all our time together, I had never seen him so broken.

"I'm sorry," I said, the words strained by the tight embrace he had me in, and maybe a little bit by the tears in my own eyes. "I shouldn't have left you behind, but I had to protect Aragorn. I..." I squeezed my eyes shut. "At least we're together now."

He didn't respond, simply continued to keep his crying silent. I glanced around us to try and view our spectators, but quickly realized I didn't have to. I could feel their presence through the powers Varda gave me, could sense them off a short ways in the forest. Far away enough for them to not be seen, but close enough for us to hear. Bless whoever had granted us privacy.

Somehow, knowing that we no longer had an audience, it granted me permission to finally break down. My embrace suddenly turning to a desperate clutch, I clung to him as if he would disappear any moment as sobs of my own barreled out of my chest. I couldn't be bothered to keep them silent as Legolas had, I didn't really care.

While Legolas had been stuck thinking he would never see me again, even in the afterlife, I had been forced into the torturous routine of knowing I would see him. Day after day I would lay awake knowing that Legolas was left broken, that it was all my fault, and then imagining a reunion I wouldn't get for years. In those moments of reminiscing and imagining, every second had felt like a lifetime, had felt like an addict's tortuous, gut-wrenching need.

And now I was here, feeling the hard lines of his muscles under my arms, the Mirkwood fabric of his tunic clutched in my hands, his very smell filling my nose. He was the scent of home, of comfort. His very embrace, although at the moment crushing and shaking, was a welcome home.

Seven years of self-inflicted torture had somehow made my love for him grow. It took loss to realize just how much I had, to truly and deeply appreciate what I once could hold and love.

I don't know how long we stood like that, clutching each other as if the earth would suddenly fall away if we stopped, crying with both joy and the pain of what we had endured onto the others' shoulders.

But finally, after our tears had subsided into a warm silence, Legolas pulled back. His blue eyes were puffy and ringed with red—something I had never seen before and I hoped I never would. As his eyes beheld mine, his lips pulling up into a familiar slight smirk, I held his face between my hands and wiped away his tears.

Legolas brought his hands up and placed them over my own, cradling them to his cheeks. His blue eyes filled with such adoration and joy, and a little bit of disbelievement and something else I couldn't quite guess, that I couldn't help but smile.

Suddenly, Legolas again pulled me to his chest, his cheek resting against the side of my head.

"I am never letting go of you again." I could feel the rumble of his voice run through me, all the way from his chest.

I laughed. "I would love that, but I think that at some point one of us will need to relieve ourselves and that might be a little awkward."

His responding laugh sent thrills running down my spine. "You may be right, so I'll simply hold you until nature's calling."

"But what about the others? We've been here for... I actually don't know but I'm sure it's been a while."

"Do you not want me to hold you?" His voice held amusement, but there was a quaver of something...

"No! I mean, I do but we can't stay here all day and... and we can hold hands instead if you'd like. I promise—I promise—I won't let go." Like him, I was almost afraid to lose contact with his skin. Still half afraid that if I let go, he'd fade away like dew in the morning.

I hesitated, biting my lip. "I would like to do something though."

"Oh?"

I pulled back and, reluctantly, he let me go. Though we were still so close that our breaths mingled and our hands held each other's.

I bit my cheek and gazed into his questioning blue eyes. Suddenly, my palms became clammy. Seven years of imagining this moment. I wanted to get it right.

"Legolas, over the course of seven years I had a lot of time to myself. A lot of that time was spent thinking about you and... well, I realized that I love you more than I love myself. But that's still an understatement and it doesn't do it justice. I love you like the bird loves the air or like how the trees love the light. I love you like how the sun needs to shine, or like how the bluejay must sing, I love you more than Luthien loved Beren. I know that sounds really overly heartfelt, but when you have all the time in the world to spend in the gardens of Lorien and Tulkas won't give you that lesson he promised because he was busy gallivanting about, you tend to think a lot about what you miss. So, thank you for being the ellon that you are. And I know I probably said it about a hundred times but I love you."

Without warning, mostly because I could not wait any longer, I once again took his face within my hands. And kissed him.

Almost as soon as my lips met his, after the words I had said had settled into him, he was kissing me back. The kiss held all the pent up passion of seven years, bleeding from the slow release of longing and pain, to a heated, fluttering desire so strong that I felt it in my toes.

Our bodies pressed so tightly against the other that I wasn't sure where he began and I ended, nor did I care as I tangled my hands in his hair or as one of his hands freely ranged the length of my back, my torso, the other cradling my nape to deepen the kiss. I tasted the salt of his tears on his lips and proceeded to lick them away. This only made him kiss me harder, feral-like, starved almost. His tongue explored the shape of my mouth in such a way that my knees nearly gave out. I clutched him even harder, fisting one of my hands into the fabric of his tunic to keep me upright.

I almost cried out in dismay when his lips left mine, but quickly sighed softly as he pressed his lips to the hard line of my jaw, trailing a butterfly line down my neck, my collarbone, and back up. A high gasp found its way out my mouth, and had Legolas not been holding my entire body and consciousness to him, I would have blushed scarlet. Just as his lips had met the corner of my mouth, just as I was so ready to interlock our lips again, he pulled away. I bit my tongue to prevent an embarrassing whimper from escaping.

Legolas rested his forehead against mine, his breathing just as heavy as my own. One of his thumbs came up and traced my lips. I had to forcibly focus on staying put, on not passionately attacking him again... Seven years... seven years since I had touched him in such a way. I had a lot of making up to do. Though, to be fair, we had never kissed quite like that...

"If you ever die on me again," he said, "I will personally hunt down your soul and make you regret taking your last breath."

I winced and almost nodded before I remembered that his head was against mine, his thumb tracing intoxicating circles on my lips. His proximity, especially after the way we had kissed... it made it hard to think. "What if it isn't my fault?"

"Then I will hunt Mandos and make him regret taking your life."

"Well... he can be pretty elusive when he wants to." That thumb! Ahhh... I was either going to melt into a blissful puddle, sighing as I go, or make him melt.

"I'd find him." I didn't doubt it.

But my thoughts began being invaded by less desirable subjects. On to what I'd have to do, what being the prophecy-written entails, the possible dangers.

"We should go," I began, desperate to change the subject, his thumb no longer sending me into a hormonal crisis. "They're probably wondering where we are—"

He kissed me, deep and passionate in a way that was sure to bruise my lips and dreaming of more for days to come. Legolas pulled back—and I wobbled, leaning into his chest for support. He laughed.

"Well now I need a moment," I gulped, still reeling from his attack. I felt woozy, my head light.

He brought his arms around me, not quite hugging, but almost to assure me. But with his strong hands on the small of my back, a handspan above being dangerously low... It didn't help, not one bit.

"You are going to be the death of me," I mumbled—then went rigid.

He stiffened as well. "I hope not."

"Sorry," I squeaked. "I wasn't thinking. But... that's what you get for kissing me like that." I tapped his chest for joking emphasis, then cautiously stepped away. But all my struck-dumbness had been burned out of me.

His eyes were haunted, his pale expression taunt, and his solid, dark brows firm, but he managed to raise a hand in a dismissive gesture.

"It's only a turn of phrase," he forgave, offering a smile that didn't quite meet his eyes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"

"You're forgiven, Lum." His tone implied that I was to leave it alone.

I'm sorry. I bit my tongue to prevent the words from spilling out. Instead, I forced a grin and grabbed his hand. His warm, strong, actually in my hand, hand. My smile grew. In turn, he smiled—not as broadly, but a smile nonetheless.

Quickly, spotting my target, I dashed forward and pecked him on the corner of his mouth. Back on my heels, I saw that the blue eyes that beheld me were brighter.

I tugged on his hand. "Let's go."

As we weaved through the trees, I felt like I was dreaming, not quite really there. But I sensed Legolas's body next to me, felt his hand in mine, heard—just barely—his steps through the brush. He ducked under a branch, blond hair shifting and the fabric of his green shirt pulled against his shoulders. As we walked, he turned to face me, his pink, thin lips curling slightly up. He was still the ellon that I loved, but his eyes seemed haunted, his cheeks shallower. His once lively complexion was duller, less vibrant. It reminded me of when he had the ring.

My expression must have reflected my thoughts, for Legolas quickly offered up a smile and turned away. But a few seconds later, from what I could see of his obscured face, his visage seemed to tighten, like he was clenching his teeth or biting his lip. Whether it was subconscious or not, he gripped my hand tighter.

I hesitated, but decided that if I didn't ask, something might get worse. "What are you thinking?"

He didn't answer for a second. "I was thinking of how unreal having you next to me feels. Having you fully restored reminds me of what I lost and despite you walking at my side, holding my hand, I feel the pain that your death brought. I'm..."

He hesitated and I didn't push him to answer.

Finally, he sighed, but his shoulders were still stiff. "I'm terrified that this might not be real, or if it is, that I'll lose you again. I cannot bear it, Lum, if you were to die again. I do not think I could stop myself from fading."

I couldn't promise him I wouldn't die again, it was what I was trying to avoid saying earlier. "I can prove that this isn't a dream."

I stopped, forcing him to turn fully towards me, and held up the hand that wasn't holding his. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Five...?"

I nodded. "In dreams, the number of fingers on a hand are all wrong. So see? Not dreaming."

Biting my lip, I hesitated. Proving that I had five fingers on one hand didn't seem enough to justify this case. I stepped forward, closer, closer still, until we were a hair's breadth apart. Every cell in me jumped to excitement, charged to a fervent tension. From this short distance, I could feel the heat of his body against mine. It taunted me, tempting me to just reach out, to lean closer and feed my ravenous, heated desire...

I looked up into his face, only a couple tantalizing inches away. "Can you feel the way your body reacts to me?"

"Yes," he breathed and the word billowed warmly on my face, almost tormentingly. His eyes seemed to struggle not to completely devour me.

I stepped away, heat licking at my face. "That wouldn't happen, even in the very best of dreams."

Gripping his hand, I brushed my thumb against his, silently proving in another way I was there.

"Thank you."

I nodded. "You're welcome."

Truth was, what I had done had helped me too.

We silently weaved through the brush, the voices of our companions getting louder. Someone laughed, deep and raucous. I caught a glimpse of a man decked out in traveling wear sitting on the ground, arms on his elbows. Two steps more and we entered into their invisible circle.

In the span of a breath, the laughing disappeared, the smiles vanished, all but a few exceptions. But those few smiles were still diminished. All eyes were on me, then darting to Legolas and back.

In most of their visages there was fear, anxiety, and wariness. In a couple, even hatred.

The air left my lungs in a rush. It was a true punch to the gut to see those who had once beheld me with hope, view me with contempt.

Valar, you were right. You were right.

Memories from the past couple years floated to the forefront of my mind. The attacks, the threats, the sneers... the whimpering and cowering.

Warmth drained from my face.

That failure I had first felt after my death rushed forth ferociously, dumping heavily into my veins.

I almost turned and ran. Almost ran to find someplace to hide, if only to bury their scorn in the depth of the forest and within my tears.

But their eyes were on me. I couldn't run. I couldn't.

So I put my shoulders back and prayed that the glow in my palms wasn't visible—

A man with wavy brown hair and gray eyes, the only one truly smiling, stared back at me. All was forgotten.

"Aragorn!"

I flung myself towards him, feeling rather than seeing the others stand to attention, hands on their weapons—but I couldn't care less. I plowed into Aragorn almost with the same force as I had with Legolas.

I laughed joyously as I threw my arms around him, feeling him pick me up and spin me shortly around in a circle before setting me firmly on my feet. "It is so good to see you!"

"Likewise, mellon," Aragorn said, a broad, broad smile lighting his face. "It is a relief to see your familiar light shining in your eyes. More so than you can know."

I blushed but brushed it off. Except I didn't know what to say, so I hugged him again, but the manic smile that was on my face began to dim as I pulled away. Aragorn's eyes grew concerned and then flickered to those standing warily behind me and back. His lips settled into a tight line.

"Now that you are back, we have a better chance of fixing the terrible ideologies that have taken root in the people's minds." His eyes again flicked upward. "But stubbornness is a hard thing to crack."

I nodded grimly, turning ever so slightly to catch a glimpse of Legolas and force him over to our little reunion party—but my eyes caught on the only other elf in our company, dark-haired and nameless.

His mouth was agape, his gray eyes wide.

He struggled for words, his shocked, awed expression sticking out from the others' like a stain on white. Slowly, their expressions bled to confusion as they witnessed their comrade's struggle.

"You," he finally managed, "have the fairest, most brightest fëa I have ever beheld."

I glanced around at the others, but they seemed just as befuddled as me. Not knowing what to say, I offered a tight-lipped smile and a curt nod, then shielded my face with my hair.

"Uhh..." I looked abashedly at Aragorn, who simply smiled and shrugged his shoulders, then to Legolas who's eyes beheld me in a strange way. As if he were looking deeper. Suddenly, his eyes focused on me, returning from whatever he saw, and he smiled brightly. My heart did a little somersault, propelling me forward on light, elven feet.

I stopped before him, grinning like a maniac as I struggled not to kiss him, and took his hand.

"What do we do now? Do we camp or set out...?" I peered through the rattling branches. We still had a few hours left of sunlight. And a thought occurred to me, suddenly making me nervous. "How long was I out?"

"Nearly half a day."

"Oh." It felt like it had been less than an hour... and at the same time a lifetime—literally.

Legolas looked to Aragorn for the answer to my other question and, quickly, he answered. "We will trek several hours more to make up for the hours lost."

Legolas nodded.

With his hand in mine, I turned us eastward. The Western Hope was waiting. And of course, my friends were there too, all three—I remembered Arwen—four of them.

I smiled and gestured forth.

"Onwards, then."

Middle-earth awaited and, at long last, I was there.

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🙈🙈 I'm kinda actually embarrassed about posting that kiss. Dang. Get a room you two.

Also, question about updates:

Would you rather me update on Fridays so you have a chapter to pump up your weekend (or completely ruin it by making you want more 😂) or would you rather me update on Mondays in an attempt to kick off your week on a good Legolas and Lumornelly note?

🙂😁,
Phoenix