༶•┈┈⛧┈♛Foxgloves and Greenleaves ♛┈⛧┈┈•༶

Chapter 10: Miranna

Who knew that waltzing, feasting, and conversing could make one tired, I think to myself, dragging myself to bed. I burp loudly and un-queen like as I prepare myself for sleep. Instead of curling up in the silken sheets of my bed, I find myself standing at the balcony, breathing in the salty mist. 

A soft knock comes from the door, interrupting my thoughts. Who would visit me so late? "Come in!" I yawn, rubbing my temples. I do not turn around to see my visitor, but by the sound and rhythm of the footsteps, it is merely Legolas. 

"Congratulations on your coronation, my queen." He bows. 

I wave my hand and sigh. "Save your etiquette for the throne room, elf prince. But thank you." 

"The pleasure is mine, Miranna." We stand in silence, looking into the dark horizon ahead of us. The water, as still as a corpse, mirrored the starry heavens above. Staring at such a scene almost made me believe that the sea and sky were one. 

"Tell me elf prince," I ask abruptly, "why do you visit me so late at night?" 

Legolas sighs out of hesitation. "Miranna, or should I say bereth vuin? What do you find in love?"

"Excuse me?"

"What do you find in love?"

I begin to pace, thinking of my answer. "You speak of something that has been lost to me for many centuries, Legolas. I believe that in love, we find our worth. In love, we find our courage when we protect and honor those you hold so close to your heart. In love, we find respect when we admire the person for both their strengths and their effort to correct their flaws and when they do the same unto us. In love, we find a devotion and determination and passion so strong that we do all we can to follow it. Soon, we find that with our pursuit, we find that we are not only shaped by those we hold close, but by ourselves and what we are willing to do and change to keep that pursuit. These things during our wanderings and pursuits in love makes us feel alive. Because in love, we also find life."

Legolas smiles. "For something that has been lost to you, you certainly gave a sizable answer."

"Love may have been lost to me, but certainly not to others."

"Do you believe one can be happy without love?"

"I believe that you can find happiness elsewhere besides love. What do you find in love, elf prince?" I hold my dizzying head in my hands. I knew I should not have drunk so much aged ambrosia. "You may want to deliver your message soon, elf prince. The sun may win the race between its rising and the deliverance of your message."

"I found you, Miranna. Le melin, bereth vuin." Legolas says gently.

The feeling of tenderness that I felt the other night from our waltzing returns. It rises from my chest to my lips. I open my mouth to return Legolas's love. Nothing.

Nothing comes out. 

I try again; I open my mouth to say a mere two words in Elvish, but I cannot.

"Díheno nin, Legolas. Man ebennel?" I apologize. "You do not mean that, do you? And why are you speaking in Sindarin?"

"Because the Common Tongue cannot express my true feelings." Legolas says in the Common Tongue, taking a step closer to me. "Le melin, bereth vuin."

Why can I not return his brave gesture? The words are on the tip of my tongue, but I cannot say it. The tenderness in my chest turns cold and heavily viscous. Why?

Because you do not need someone to make yourself happy. Look at yourself; are you not where you need to be most? Do you not have what you need and want the most? Do you think that with love, you can balance the onset of your duties with a prince who has his own?

I step back and do not say anything. I believe my silence is better than a rejection.

The warm expression in the elf prince's face turns cold. "You cannot say it back." He begins pacing.

"I do not understand." He mumbles, pacing the balcony. "What of last night? Does it not mean anything to you?"

I straighten my posture and look down upon him, even though he is a little taller than I am. "Considering the way you speak to me, it is starting to lose its meaning."

He shakes his head. "Even if you feel a single drop of what I feel for you, we would not be like this."

I look away. "I would be lying if I said that I did not feel a sort of tenderness towards you."

"Then why can you not return it?"

"Why would I say something that would only destroy us and whatever we have? Are you forgetting that we both have a mission and duty to fulfill? I am not your mission."

He scoffs, shaking his head. "You keep doubting yourself, Miranna. Did I not tell you that you deserve to be happy?"

"Yes, you did, but you do not get to decide how I deserve to be happy." I snap. "Do you know what I told myself the night my parents died, elf prince?"

"Of course not. How should I know if I was absent from your parents' death?"

I glare at him, seething with anger. "I told myself, 'If this is the pain love brings, then I no longer want it.' And if this is the strife you'll give me, then I certainly do not want you."

 He pauses, thinking of something to say. Whether it was another argument or a curse, it certainly was not an apology. "Your words anger me so much that I wish you'd have died along with your parents."

His words should have angered me and brought tears to my eyes. Instead, a mirthless laughter escapes from my lips, echoing throughout Delmaris.

"Do you not know of the many times I have wished death upon myself?" I ask, recollecting myself from my brief hysteria. "In my years alone in the forest, I have wished to rest in peace with my parents instead of fighting for survival. I longed to drown myself in a river rather than in my own tears. I would have slept in the arms of death rather than the branches of trees. You can say whatever unkind words you have left, elf prince, but they will never compare to the things I wished for myself."

Legolas stops pacing and drops his gaze to the floor. All his anger, once boiling inside of him, has left him with guilt. "I-I'm sorry Miranna-"

I raise a hand, stopping him from apologizing. "Don't. Please don't."

"I do not wish to fight you, my queen."

"It is already too late for that, elf prince. So leave."

He bows deeply with a hand on his heart— the Elvish form of an embrace. I do not return his bow. Instead, I watch him leave with no sign of turning back. As I lay myself to sleep, I wait for the waterfall of tears or the comforting embrace of sleep to arrive. Neither comes, leaving me in heartbroken darkness.