Love’s Life- – -P37-Shock to Deep to Understand-

by Nov 11, 2004Stories

By the next morning the evening’s nightmares had faded to distant wisps of clouds, teasing her mind every once in a while, but no fear claimed her. Most of her attentions were caught up in pondering the ruinous fate that had somehow she had evaded. Then there was the fact of dodging down halls and hiding, trying desperately to avoid ending up in the practice arena with Glorfindel, and the laps rising to three thousand. She nearly fainted at the thought.

“You know Alenor, Lord Elrond is having a fit right about now,” Legolas said seriously, behind her.

Alenor turned and glared at her friend. He was stretched length-wise out on the large rock of her secret haven. The place where she had finally sought her hiding place from Glorfindel, the unfortunate thing was that Legolas had found her easily here. His eyes were gazing upwards to the crisp blue sky, but Alenor could feel them on her as well.

“Alenor are you going to answer me?” Legolas asked, when silence had reined for some time.

Sighing she rested her head on her arm, that was wound around her drawn up knees, and looked down at Legolas. “I hate Glorfindel. I hate him more then I could ever hate Morgoth and Sauron combined. There is no way that anyone, even with serious threats of dragging, could get me to go to those lessons!” she paused and then added thoughtfully, “I don’t know why I didn’t start this evading earlier.”

“That’s a serious hate Alenor,” Legolas commented. “Don’t let that hate get to far, it can ruin you and your life.”

“Perhaps it is mere frustration,” Alenor thought aloud. She blew another sigh. “I wish I could understand though Legolas. Do you understand everything that’s happening to me?”

“I’m afraid not Alenor, and if I did I would try desperately to find someway that I could tell you,” Legolas said with an air of solemnity

Alenor moved her hand till it rested upon one of Legolas’s. Both his hands were resting on his stomach as he gazed up. Carefully she wound her hand in and squeezed it gently. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you Legolas. I don’t know I survived those years without your friendship by my side.”

Legolas placed his other hand on top of her hers and looked into her eyes. “My Eru cursed Elvish pride,” he smiled up at her. “But we’re friends once more Alenor. I don’t want it to go any deeper then that. I am content where we stand in the world.”

“So am I,” she whispered gently. “I don’t. . . .”

“Hey you two lovers!” Alenor jerked her head up. Elrohir was making his way towards them casually brushing dust off his clothes. “Were you two going to kiss? Did I interrupt something?”

“Uncle,” Alenor dangerously whispered. “Legolas and I are just friends. You know that”

Elrohir waved a hand away and looked at Alenor then darkly, his light manner disappearing. “Elrond and Glorfindel are going to dismember you piece by piece once they find you.”

“Told you so,” Legolas muttered, brushing her hand off, where forgotten it had lingered. “I told you so.”

“I’m still not going to those lessons,” Alenor said firmly. “I refuse!”

“Then get ready for my father and Glorfindel to parade your head on a pike throughout Rivendell!”

Alenor snorted, crossing her arms irritably. “Uncle, it is I who hate Glorfindel with every fiber of my being. It is simply not right for the Morgoth cursed Elf to be hating me. Besides what’s the fuss? I can probably run for ten days straight without stopping.”

Despite the serious situation, Elrohir chuckled. “Bless me Alenor!” he laughed. “Your tongue today is as sharp as a Balrog’s whip, or the axes of the Dwarves; ever ready to slay.”

“I have every right to be my good Uncle,” Alenor replied stiffly. “But it was your muddled brains that caused my anger and feelings of hurt that never went away! It is on behalf of you, whenever I look at you and you ask me to trust you, you resemble nothing of my Uncle but an untrustworthy backstabber!”

“Alenor that was unjust,” Legolas whispered quietly from where he lay. “Alenor…” he paused, knowing well enough that Alenor would listen to no words that were said. He sighed inwardly, poor Alenor! She didn’t even know what Elrohir had told him that time when they were alone in the room together at Alenor’s bedside. Raising his eyes Legolas could see Elrohir stumble back a step or two, shock and horror upon his face.

“Then my lady,” he said quietly. “I am very sorry that I even have blood ties with you. May one day we will walk in the Sun together and forget all past angers and hurts between us. Until that day child, we shall be parted and our blood sundered. Until then Alenor, goodbye.”

Alenor’s mouth worked as Elrohir turned and left. Nothing would come though and she choked on tears. No! She had never meant for it to get far enough for Elrohir to mention those words to her. Never! “What have I done?” it was an agonized whisper that barely passed through her lips. She wasn’t aware of Legolas sitting up and trying to aid comfort to her, she was still too deep in shock to register anything.

“Don’t cry Alenor, don’t cry,” Legolas gently said. He brushed away the tears of the stricken Elf’s face. It had gone so pale that Legolas feared that it was the death pallor that had stole across her face.

Legolas’s words had gone unheeded to Alenor ears. She wasn’t even aware at him. Guilt and hurt beat hard at the corners of her mind, beckoning insanity. She wasn’t even aware of her own breathing. What had she done? What had she done? The question echoed relentlessly in her head and try as she might to fend it off the attacks came harder and harder upon her. What had she done? Deep inside her, where the most darkest and saddest of feelings had been kept locked tightly beyond a barricaded wall, the lock snapped. The door surged open and the wall collapsed. The tears came, every single tear that she had held tight over the years, every tear that she had wept before and now anew.

It came and she was unaware of herself in Legolas’s arms as he tried to comfort her back. Tried to comfort her back, fearing the shock had registered to deep and she was lost…lost to them. In this moment himself Legolas wanted to rise up and strike Elrohir as hard as he could, but he couldn’t leave Alenor’s side. He knew that she was beyond hearing, beyond knowing.

“I have to get her to Lord Elrond,” Legolas whispered to himself. Bending down he lifted the girl into his arms, there was no acknowledgement that she knew she was being carried, the tears continued without abating. Legolas felt scared and alone, could he get her to Elrond in time?


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