Feä Bond (Legolas x OC)

The show must go on

So, if we want that happy ending, we're going to have to work for it. Entering the five stages of grief for now.

"Mum! Dad!"

Her mother gathered her into her arms, and the dam broke. Tears and sobs escaped her body, but she could not relent. Very soon, Frances regained her composure, blaming her breakdown on exhaustion because of her studies. She would weep and grieve in private. For now, she needed to be out of hospital. She hated hospitals, they never helped her. And after the comfy houses of healing of Minas Tirith, the cold and aseptic environment seemed even harsher.

Frances thought of Faramir, of Eowyn, and the hobbits, and all those people that she loved and that she would never see again. Tears welled in her eyes, and she struggled to regain her composure. Pushing those thoughts away, the cogs in her minds turned a hundred miles a minute to find a cover story.

But neither the doctor, nor her parents were quite ready to give in. She suffered, apparently, for severe anaemia. Frances almost snorted at that. With the blood loss she had sustained, it was little wonder! Of course, the doctors could not make sense of it, for there was no injury to behold. Apparently, the transfer from one world to another reconstructed her frame from scratch. Or so she deduced. So basically, the magic of the Valar saved her life. Had they done it on purpose? Were they watching her? Or was it only the magic or the gem that responded to her? So many questions, and no explanation in sight.

Anyway. She had the Valar to thank for her life. A few minutes later and she would have been very, very dead. Had the rock not performed its shiny magic, she definitely would be buried. Would her body have stayed behind? Would her companion bury her somewhere on the road, or take her to Minas Tirith? What would have been their choice, HIS choice? As Frances considered her brush with death and the consequences of the aftermaths, she missed the insistent questions that were directed to her.

"Miss?"

"Frances?"

Her mother's worried tone reached to her, and Frances realised how much she had missed her parents. It would have been an impossible choice, to stay in middle earth and leave them in the dark about her existence. The joy to be reunited with them, though, was more than dampened by the loss. Still, they could be her rock, her sanctuary until she started living again. Or died from the grief.

"What?"

"The doctor asked you a question."

"Oh sorry, I kinda zoned out. I'm quite exhausted."

A tall doctor with bright eyes smiled at her. He looked, in appearance, a little less condescending than his kind.

"It's quite all right. I merely wondered if you had sustained any intense bleeding recently. Your red blood cells are alarmingly low and we have even considered a transfusion."

Frances lifted an eyebrow.

"That much?"

"Yes, that much. It is usually a result of major blood loss by injury, or after birth. But in your case, it does not fit. So have you sustained any injuries, or abundant periods, anything?"

Was he asking if she had had a clandestine abortion or something like it? That would be a good cover story, but Frances couldn't abide by it. Not in front of her parents. And they knew she had an implant to prevent her period from happening; the solution to her impromptu travels. Injuries? She wanted so much to tell them.

A few ones, so insignificant... A deep gash to the thigh and a sword lacerating my back to the bone. That kind of injury?'

Seemingly lost in thought, she played dumb. If Legolas had been there, he would have picked up the irony hidden in her eyes. Her sweet and bright elf knew, by now, when she was being difficult on purpose. By her side, her father gave her a strange look. Frances sighed dejectedly. Those two would have got along just fine.