NINA

"Legolas? Are you okay?" I watched as he so desperately control his breathing, his blue eyes absentmindedly stare into the nothingness of the festive night before us. He didn't even flinch nor turn to the sound of my voice, instead, I watched as a tear fell from his eyes. I rushed to his side, unaware of what he was seeing, of what he was feeling - and it sucks.

I gave his hand a hard squeeze, and to my relief, he returned it with a soft one, meeting my gaze.

"What did you see? What happened?" I asked.

He gulped, looking away. "I had a vision - they're calling me back home."

I knew this day would come - I was already making myself ready, making sure I won't be affected as much as I should be - I just didn't realize it will come sooner than I thought. And to think I have grown fond of him already - I realized that once again, I am left alone.

"I- I think I need a drink. Sorry." He got up and left, leaving me speechless. If there was one thing I know, it was that it was also hard for him as it was for me. I can feel his longing for this place, how much he wishes for peace and serenity and somehow, despite of all of the world's shortcomings, it seemed perfect for him. But then, who was I to stop him from going home?

Legolas turned to me suddenly, and he gave an apologetic smile, lifting up all the worries in my chest. He was then pulled into a drinking game in which I knew he'd win, basically because half of the other participants already had too much to drink, their speech slurred.

"You worry about him too much," I looked up and saw my ever glorious father, smiling, holding a cup, an eyebrow raised, cheeks a bit red.

"It's too obvious, isn't?" He nodded, taking a sip. He sat beside me, brushing my hair, leaving a peck on my temple.

"Nins, remember, he doesn't belong here. Don't get attached - you know how much it hurts to be left behind."

"Well Dad, I believe it will happen yet again sooner than we both thought."

He sighed as soon as he realized what I meant. "When is he leaving?"

"Tomorrow, I guess? Or the day after. I don't know, Dad. I don't want to talk about it."

"But honey," he argued, "I think we really do. What's your plan? I want to get involved. Do you plan on telling him about Landon, or at least say-"

"I'll tell him," I assured him, "But not now. Not when everyone's still here, not when he's still here. I don't want to see his face as soon as he knows about him."

He chuckled. "Nins, I don't think there's reception in Middle Earth. And besides, I think it's too personal to be told on the phone."

He's right, as always. But I have already thought about this longer than I should have, and I do have a plan - and it's simple enough for him to even bother about.

"I'll write him a letter - a long ass one. And he'll find out about it when he finally found his way back home."

He nodded then, looking tired. The party seems to die down a bit, with everyone almost ready to call it a night.

"You tried, Nins," my father whispered, the night carrying it away. "I know how much you tried for him to see that this could be his home, but honey, sweetheart, we are not his family, and he is not ours. He's got a family of his own, and we have what we have right now. And I'm glad, grateful even, for he once again made me feel how it is to have a son, and for you, an older brother. But it's time to let go, honey, it's time to see where he- we, truly belong."

The night ended, everyone went home with tired smiles on their faces. It had been a long time since we all had gathered in one place, and thanks to Daddy we finally had a chance to catch up.

But for all of what's left of me, I figured it was too early for me to call it a night. I spent the rest of the evening writing the long ass letter for Legolas, who was by the way was too enthusiastic to clean up all the mess left than the birthday boy himself, who was ready to cuddle in his nest.

The morning came, and I was thankful. Because even though I knew it was time, the past week had been one of the best in my life.

•••

"I'll be leaving tonight," Legolas muttered, his head bent. My father shot me a glance, and I nodded, making him see I was ready.

"Of course. Don't be afraid to tell us what you need."

"Well, I do need a ride to that place I first been."

"Where was that? On our lawn?"

He chuckled. "No. I rode a - what do you call that yellow car? A cab? - the winds dropped me in what seems like a small forest where families gathered at the edge of it, and you could see tall buildings from it-"

"The park!" My father and I said together, eyes meeting halfway.

"Oh. Is that what it's called?"

Dad dropped a pat from his shoulder, then gathered our finished dishes. "We'll go there with you. What time do you wish to go?"

"When I was brought here, the sun already had set, a good time for a nice supper. Maybe around that time? Before you have dinner?"

Dad nodded. Legolas offered to do the dishes, which Dad gladly agreed to. He pulled me towards his room, and as usual, asked me what I was thinking.

"I'm fine, Dad," I answered, rolling my eyes. "Really."

"I know you are."

"Dad, compared to last time, we have time to prepare. And you're right. We are not his family. He's not ours."

He sighed. "I don't want you to feel that way-"

"I know what I feel, Dad. He may not be Landon - scratch that. He will never be Landon. He's Legolas. He will always be Legolas, and I'm happy that he is. I see him for who he truly is and I'm fine with that. He has been nothing but a good friend, and I'm glad I met him."

"I'm glad I met him too." He sighed again, and we sat there on his bed, not saying anything for awhile, just watching the winds blow off his curtains.

•••

"In my vision, I saw my father. He called me using my nickname as a child. 'Little leaf', I was called. I could see the pain in his eyes."

He was explaining why he should go. I chuckled, trying so hard for it to sound happy, but ended up being mediocre.

"You don't have to explain, Legolas. I understand."

"I'm going to miss you." He murmured.

I smiled. I pulled him for a hug, and before he could see it, I brushed off the tear that fell on my right cheek.

•••

I packed for Legolas. Together with the letter, inside an old backpack I put two jars of Nescafe (this does not need any explanation at all), a bag of Cheetos (he seems fascinated about the idea of licking your fingers when there's cheese on them), my copy of To Kill A Mockingbird (he had placed a bookmark right where he left off), Dad's recipe for his cookies ("My cook never made this kind of pastry," he said. My Dad and I rolled our eyes.) and the clothes he used the first time I saw him. Finally, I placed the shirt and journal I bought him and there, I inserted the letter I wrote.

"This is for me?" he asked when I gruntingly pushed it to him. I nodded, rolling my eyes.

He smiled. "Thank you, Nina. Please do remember that I will never forget you."

In the corner of my eyes, I could feel my father watching me.

"Good. Because I won't either."

Then in one swift pull, I took a polaroid of us.

"Here. So you won't forget my face."

•••

The drive to the park was shorter than I thought. The afternoon traffic subsided, and as soon as the sun sets, the roads seems to be deserted and we travelled at ease.

Damn. I wanted it to be longer.

We started walking towards the woods part of the park. Couples hand in hand were enjoying the autumn breeze in the park, cuddling (sometimes too close). Legolas didn't even seem to notice the weather in his white shirt and pants. I was freezing, so I tightened the jacket around my body. In a line, we walked in silence - Dad in front, Legolas in the middle with his backpack, me at the back. When we reached the clearing, Legolas turned to me and I looked away.

"It's time," he murmured, his voice as soft as silk. I would miss his voice.

I nodded. Dad walked beside me, and put his arm around my stiff shoulders.

"Be safe," Dad said to him. He must've nod, because everything fell silent again, with us hearing only the brushing of the leaves of trees and the songs of the crickets.

"The wind is here," Legolas said, "Go, before it takes you away."

And then Dad was pulling me away, every step heavier than the next. I remained emtionless, until a strong gusts of wind came like a helicopter landing. It stayed for a few seconds that we had to stop until it left.

And then it hit me. Those are the winds that took him.

And I didn't even said goodbye.

I ran back, barely hearing my father calling my name.

When I reached the clearing however, I was already too late. He was gone.