Zandra: She has water power, which includes weather power. She is slowly regaining her memory of who and what she is. She is Dae Kular, which literally means “light warrior,” but she thinks it is something more.
Tinania: Zandra’s eldest sister, she became Dae Kular and went away. She has fire power.
Jaessa: Zandra’s other sister, described as sweet, and calm. She has earth power, which includes plants.
Zandra’s Mother: associated with stars
Zandra’s Father: associated with shadows
Dyryn: Zandra once thought she loved him, but he tricked her and imprisoned her in Dol Guldur He had a ring, and became the Witchking of Angmar. Zandra, Eowyn, and Merry all helped kill him.
Gallin: Boy from Rohan, a friend of Zandra’s, died at Helm’s Deep
Lady From Beyond the Sea – Chapter 33 – Parting
Amroth beheld the fading shore
Now low beyond the swell,
And cursed the faithless ship that bore
Him far from Nimrodel.
Time sped by far too swiftly for Legolas. By mutual though unspoken consent Legolas did not again bring up the subject of marriage, nor did they speak of her departure. They were to be found together morning and night, treasuring up every moment that they had together. If Legolas felt that her imminent departure never left his thoughts, he tried to prevent Zandra from knowing of it. And if she began to regret her decision, he could see no sign.
The month after the Ring was cast into Mount Doom was filled with a frenzy of activity. The weary rested and the hurt were healed. For some had labored and fought much with the remnants of the Easterlings and Southrons, until all were subdued. And, latest of all, those returned who had passed into Mordor and destroyed the fortresses in the north of the land.
But at the last, when the month of May was drawing near the Captains of the West set out again; and they went aboard ship with all their men, and they remained for one day; and the day after they came to the green fields of the Pelennor and saw again the white towers of Minas Tirith.
And there in the midst of the fields they set up their pavilions and awaited the morning; for it was the Eve of May, and the King would enter his gates with the rising of the Sun.
Legolas was unable to rest, and neither, it seemed could Zandra, they sat together, arm in arm in the field of Pelennor, not speaking, merely gazing at the stars, and taking comfort in the other’s company. Pain racked Legolas’s heart, but he knew that nothing he would say would change Zandra’s mind. He couldn’t understand it, but she needed to do this on her own, and his love for her, while it tore him apart, would not let him stand in her way.
She had informed him earlier that she intended to depart in the evening of the following day.
“For now that my decision has been made I wish to accomplish my quest as swiftly as possible,” she had told him gently, “Then, if I am able to return I shall do so all the more quickly.”
Legolas did not feel himself able to respond to this. Why could she not understand that he needed to be with her? How could she force him to remain behind, even when she suggested that she may not ever return?
Aragorn’s coronation was a joyous affair, and Legolas was happy for him, but he was unable to enter fully into the celebrations. His only consolation was that Zandra appeared as morose as he himself was. Then, as sunset came, Zandra bid farewell to the newly crowned Elessar, and the hobbits for whom she cared so much. Mithrandir was the last to whom she turned.
“Words cannot suffice to express the thanks I would give you,” she said, “Were it not for you I might have remained in the darkness forever, or perished when the White Council drove Sauron out of Dol Guldur. You have been a greater friend and guide than any I could wish for. Thank you.”
“Where will you begin your search?” Mithrandir asked.
“I was heading South when I met Dyryn, and ended up in Dol Guldur, so I will begin by heading North.”
“I could wish that you would reconsider your decision to do this alone,” Mithrandir said, “I know I am not the only one who is willing to aid you in your quest.”
“I am sorry, I wish I could explain it better, but I don’t understand it myself fully. All I know is that I must find my family on my own,” she said softly. “Farewell everyone. I do hope that our paths will cross again. You have all been dear friends.” She then turned, smiling through her tears, and came to Legolas, taking his hand, and leading him into the forest, waving goodbye to what remained of the Fellowship of the Ring.
“I don’t know what to say to you,” she said at last, as they drew out of sight. “Goodbye is not enough. But I don’t think that any words could bring adequate comfort to either of us.”
“I know the words that would comfort me,” he said. “Say them and I will come with you.”
“Legolas no, you can’t. You know it. I have to accomplish this for myself. I would not ever be at peace with myself if I didn’t.”
“I know you have to find your family, I understand that, but why are you denying me the right to come? I love you, how can you think that I could let you leave me? Why do you insist that you must do this alone?” he pleaded.
She closed her eyes, pain etched across her delicate features. “I don’t know. I just know that you can’t come.”
“How long do you expect me to wait before coming after you?” Legolas asked, his eyes boring into hers.
She lowered her eyes for a moment, then raised them again, the emotion raging in their depths unintelligible to the bewildered Elf. “Don’t come after me,” she whispered. She moved closer, raising one hand to his cheek, her fingers rough and calloused from years wielding swords, yet still gentle.
Not moving her gaze from his, slowly she raised her lips to press a feather-light kiss on his lips; she had never kissed him before, he had always been the one to initiate their kisses. With a sharp indrawn breath, he brought his own hand to cradle the back of her head, and would have deepened the kiss, but she drew back.
Taking his free hand in hers, she pressed something into his grasp. “Keep this for me.” Her words were hoarse, and hardly more than a whisper.
Slowly she moved backwards, never taking her eyes from his, her hand lingering on his cheek, then sliding to brush lightly across his lips. She kept her hand outstretched as she backed away. He grabbed her hand just before she moved out of his reach.
“Come back to me,” he pleaded, “Promise you’ll come back.”
Her lips shaped into a sad smile as she responded only, “I love you.” She squeezed his hand for a moment, then pulled from his grasp, and turned away, walking smoothly, but swiftly into the early mist, and out of his sight.
“Zandra!” The strangled cry burst from his lips, and he ran a few impulsive steps forward, before collapsing against the bole of a tree. Slowly he slid down its length, until he sat sprawled at its base, one hand in his lap, clasping whatever it was that Zandra had pressed into his hand. Slowly he forced his fingers to uncurl. There, in his hand lay the pearl, surrounded with diamond and opal. Zandra’s necklace.
“Help me and I will help you.” Melkor’s voice drifted out of the shadows.
“Who are you that I should help you?” Zandra whispered yet again, knowing the answer. She was asleep, she knew it. This had happened many times over the past weeks, beginning the night she had killed Dyryn, though only recently, as she entered the land to the south where Melkor had directed her, had she become aware whilst she dreamt that it was indeed a dream. Her actions and decisions had all been determined by this strange being who directed her dreams. How many people could speak into a person’s dream?
“I am Melkor, one of the Valar,” he said, his voice taking on a harder edge.
“I know nothing of Valar,” she said, not entirely untruthfully. She knew only that the Valar were the beings that the Elves worshipped. She knew nothing of them from before her imprisonment., and that this Melkor claimed to be one of them. She believed this was the first time she had asked this of Melkor.
“We are the creators of this world.”
“If you created this world, how could you require my aid?”
“You are not of this world. Others not of this world have endangered it. They have imprisoned me, and only you can free me.”
“Not of this world!” Zandra cried, a host of memories screaming back into her mind. Kneeling before the Dae Kular Council. Swearing the oath to fight evil. Wandering the Hall between the Worlds. Osse, warning her, . . . asking for her aid against Morgoth, the Black Enemy. Her dream self fell to the ground, clutching her head at the sudden pain as too many memories tried to surface.
She woke up screaming, one thought in her mind. She was wrong to come alone. She needed Legolas. It was Melkor who put it into her mind to leave Legolas. Melkor did not wish Legolas to come because he knew Legolas would be a danger to his wishes. Zandra would be sure to tell Legolas of her dreams . . . and Legolas would have known that Melkor was only the original name of Morgoth.
It was her last thought as a stranger in blue clamped a damp cloth soaked in some liquid over her nose and mouth, and everything faded away.
The years wore heavy upon Legolas. He had never before counted the marching of time so long. He fulfilled his promise to Gimli, and they traveled to the Glittering Caves, and Fangorn. The Caves were beautiful, but the periodic emerald glittering in the walls merely reminded him how pale they seemed in contrast to Zandra’s eyes. The same happened with the leaves of Fangorn. They were magnificent, but he had intended to see them with Zandra at his side.
After this journey he returned home to Mirkwood, now called the Wood of the Greenleaves, or Greenwood. Dol Guldur had arisen again during the War of the Ring, and the people of Lorien and Mirkwood combined had destroyed it once and for all. The southern part of the Greenwood was under Celeborn’s rule, and was called East Lorien, and the northern part was ruled by Legolas’s father.
It was not long however before Legolas’s restlessness led Thranduil to send his son with a group to settle in Ithilien. So Legolas with his people aided Aragorn in their battles with the Easterlings and Southrons. At last, fifty years after he had watched her walk away, Legolas gave in to his longing, and attempted to follow her path. To no avail. North was a vague direction, and in fifty years she could have gone anywhere. There was no trace of her, none could remember seeing a golden haired lady with green eyes. She had not been to inquire in any of the villages he questioned. She had vanished. Legolas asked Elessar to try the Palantir, but she was not to be found. Despair began to settle within his heart.
“Just wait,” Arwen counseled him, “She did not wish you to follow, so she would not leave a trail.”
So Legolas waited.
They heard when Frodo left with the other Ringbearers for Valinor. When Sam’s wife died, he too left for the Sea. Merry and Pippin came to Edoras when King Eomer was upon his deathbed, and then came to Gondor, where they breathed their last. As the despairing Elf watched each member of the Fellowship leaving, so to did his longing for the Sea increase.
“What is wrong with me Aragorn?” He pleaded, “How can I long for the Sea while Zandra remains in Middle Earth?”
“Perhaps the time has come to let her go,” Aragorn said slowly, his white-haired head bowed. He looked up then at Legolas, his grey eyes clear, despite his age, and approaching death. “You never did you know.”
“What do you mean?” Legolas said slowly.
“The time comes when we all just have to let go,” his noble voice was sad, and suddenly Legolas knew that his dear friend was also planning on leaving him.
“Aragorn!” he cried, his voice strangled.
“Shh, I have already told Arwen. Tomorrow I will leave this world behind me. Eldarion is full ripe for kingship, and if he is not what I would wish, in regards to how he treats his sons, he is what I have. It is better that I leave of my own will, than that I should leave perforce.”
“I shall miss you,” was all Legolas could say. He had never before had such close contact with a mortal near to death of old age, and it grieved him. Had old age captured Zandra? Was that why she did not return?
“Send my son in to me,” the old king requested. Legolas nodded and left. Once he found Eldarion he sent him to Elessar and encountered Arwen outside the King’s bedroom.
“What shall you do?” he asked her quietly.
She lowered her head, “I shall return to Lothlorien, from the home of my people I too shall pass from this life.” She raised her eyes to his, “What of you? How long shall you await your beloved?”
Gazing into the eyes of his dear friend, Legolas came to sudden decision. Zandra would have returned by now if she could, or if she wished . . . His longing to cross the Sea had grown so strong that it nearly overwhelmed him.
“I can wait no longer. Aragorn was right. Sometimes we just need to let go. I will go into the West, and there, perhaps in my memories my heart will at last find peace.”
Aragorn was dead. Legolas and Gimli, so far as they knew, were the last of the Fellowship in Middle Earth. Once his decision had been made Legolas lost no time in inviting Gimli to accompany him across the Sea. The Dwarf was very excited to see the Lady Galadriel again, though his friend’s grief was very evident, and dampened Gimli’s spirits as well.
They built a grey ship in the Bay of Belfalas, and when the tide was right they moved to enter it.
Gimli hesitated for a moment, before climbing aboard.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked.
Legolas was busying himself with the rigging of their sail, and did not look up as he answered, “No, I am not certain of anything. But my Longing will not be denied.”
It tore at the gruff Dwarf’s heart to see his friend so miserable, but the choice was not his to make, so he scrambled aboard. Legolas unfurled the sail, and as the wind caught it, and they were pulled from the Bay, Gimli noticed the Elf’s eyes lingering upon the shore, and heard the whispered words:
An Elven-maid there was of old,
A shining star by day:
Her mantle white was hemmed with gold,
Her shoes of silver-grey.
A star was bound upon her brows,
A light was on her hair
As sun upon the golden boughs
In Lorien the fair.
Her hair was long, her limbs were white,
And fair she was and free;
And in the wind she went as light
As leaf of linden-tree.
Beside the falls of Nimrodel,
By water clear and cool,
Her voice as falling silver fell
Into the shining pool.
Where now she wanders none can tell,
In sunlight or in shade;
For lost of yore was Nimrodel
And in the mountains strayed.
The elven-ship in haven grey
Beneath the mountain-lee
Awaited her for many a day
Beside the roaring sea.
A wind by night in Northern lands
Arose, and loud it cried,
And drove the ship from elven-strands
Across the streaming tide.
When dawn came dim the land was lost,
The mountains sinking grey
Beyond the heaving waves that tossed
Their plumes of blinding spray.
Amroth beheld the fading shore
Now low beyond the swell,
And cursed the faithless ship that bore
Him far from Nimrodel.
Of old he was an Elven-king
A lord of tree and glen,
When golden were the boughs in spring
In fair Lothlorien.
From helm to sea they saw him leap,
As arrow from the string,
And dive into the water deep,
As mew upon the wing.
The wind was in his flowing hair,
The foam about him shone;
Afar they saw him strong and fair
Go riding like a swan.
But from the West has come no word,
And on the Hither Shore
No tidings Elven-folk have heard
Of Amroth evermore.
The End of the Lady From Beyond the Sea
Aren’t I evil! But don’t worry, this is NOT the end of the story of Legolas and Zandra. I had thought, when I first started this story to have them meet in Valinor, . . . but that just did not seem like enough . . . so . . . the second story in this Trilogy is called Heart of Earth, Heart of Stone, so keep your eyes peeled for that! The Prologue will be appearing shortly. I just wish to thank Nawyn and Lady Shinigami for their contributions to the title of this second story, and also to thank LS for being my sounding board. Thank you again!
And thank you everyone who has kept up with me thus far. Bear with me for a while more!