It'll Take A Human Life Time

Chapter Six

I wander around the forest, lost in my thoughts.

I pass the old trees, and wonder how they have managed to stay so still and so quiet for so long. We taught them to speak, to move. Why do they not leave?

I hear the whispers of other elves, talking about me, saying I have lost my mind. I disagree with them; I may loose it soon, but I still have my wits yet. I regonise what happens. It is because I know what happens that fall into quietness and sadness and solitariness.

I climb a tree and sit at the top, pondering my thoughts.

They make sense to me. But I doubt anyone else can see why I deal with Haldir's death like this.

Why I loose hope in Legolas' return.

I look at my thoughts themselves and I realize they are wandering, like me. Short, abrupt.

They make less sense as I sit here. I can't think properly not moving. So I climb down and continue wandering.

I come aross a small stream and decide to follow it. It gets wider and deeper. At the widest point, there is a bridge.

I walk to the middle and stare down into the river.

I laugh at the missing railings.

I consider jumping.

I stand so close to the edge, my toes hang off the end in their shoes.

I close my eyes.

I lift my leg to step off.

Wait for me!

His voice stops me.

I sit down and cry.

I do not wish to wait.

But for him, I will.

For him, I would die.

I will wait. But I will do it alone.

I wander back to the flets, and find my way to the one where I stay. I go in. I walk into my room and sit on the pallet on the floor.

I close my eyes, and wander in my thoughts.

I do not open my eyes for anyone.

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My depression continues.

I sink lower and lower into my mind and farther and father away from reality.

I am sure Dûrhilion and Girithfalathiel have come to see me, but I have not noticed.

I do not eat. I do not speak. I do not open my eyes.

It is hard to cling to my life force. I know I could give up whenever I wanted.

But I don't.

Some part of my mind listens to what Galadriel had said. There is still much for you to do.

So I don't give up.

Yet.

But we got no news of the war. No news from Rivendell. No news from the birds.

So I wait. And sink deeper. And became less.

I forget Dûrhilion and Girithfalathiel.

I forget Galadriel.

I forget the Mirkwood.

I forget Rivendell.

I forget the world.

But not Legolas Thranduillion, Princling of the Woodland Realm. My love.