Within Dreams [A Legolas love story]

Driftwood

I closed my eyes and simply lay in the murky, cold water.

The darkness closed in on me, but I was no longer afraid. Only accepting.

I cared not that the mud and grime swirled through my hair that had only recently smelled of lavender, or that all on me was soaked in the dregs of one of the darkest places in Middle-earth.

I lay there in a mere few feet of water, not moving, hardly breathing, until a very important thought tugged at the corners of my exhausted mind.

A gentle push on my left side, almost intangible, a current through the still water.

But not still, I realised. If there was a current, this water went somewhere -- out from the exit of this cave.

My eyes snapped open, which made me more alert, even if I couldn't see much. The sword of light, still faintly glowing, hung limply from my hand, the pale glimmer reflected in fractals in the water.

I held my breath and was sure I knew where the current was going before tentatively pushing myself up on my good wrist and breathing heavily on my knees until finally surging upwards with renewed strength. I laboriously walked through the heavy water, following the current I knew was there, gradually feeling it become stronger and stronger as I went. The outstretched sword illuminated few inches in front of me at a time, until suddenly the light loomed against the face of a solid wall of rock that stood in front of me. I felt the water rushing around my ankles, fast enough to make a faint sound in the blackness.

But where did it go?

I pushed against the wall experimentally, and then realised that the water crept steadily under a gap through the bottom of the wall that was barely a foot high.

I leaned my head against the wall in frustration and exhaustion.

The grim realisation that this was the only way out hit me hard, and I had no idea how I would be able to fit through the small gap. I crouched down and thrust the sword inside, seeing that there was a foot of clearance but the water went down another two feet or so. I experimentally pushed my shoulders through the crevice and found that I could barely maneuver into the hole, but just as I continued pushing forward, the wet fabric of my tunic bunched up around the rock and prevented me from fitting.

Gritting my teeth, I backed out of the hole and took off the tunic, leaving only the tight shirt I had underneath.

Trying again, I maneuvered myself into the gap with one hand and my forearm, trying not to put any weight on my injured wrist, and was able to get in most of the way. The current was not strong enough to pull me forward, so I continued pulling myself through the stagnant murk, my forearm grating on the rough stone below and my usable hand and wrist soon tiring of the extra weight.

A few times, my head lolled forward and I felt my nose dip into the slimy brine, making my stomach reel with disgust.

I inched forward at a snail's pace.

The water continued on and eventually too tired to continue, I gave up and turned on my back with difficulty, hoping that I could stay afloat enough to be carried by the weak current onwards. My eyes slowly closed dazedly; voices swirled around the thick, damp air. All I could think of was how I had not succeeded, how Falcon and the others were run amok in some distant place and that I would never get there.

Peace, child.... Not all is lost.

I dimly heard the gentle words in my mind, different than the words of Lórien or his wife, or of any entity I had heard. The tone was like the rumble of a waterfall, or the echo of the sea.