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…small pools and puddles… of starlight…
gleaming yonder… distant dreaming; running rays of silver, lining the stone…
white weaving… stretching, reaching
…in the Land of the Moon…
…far and beyond…
…so very close
*
The soft sound of footfall drifted through the night on no wind. The midnight blue, pierced with the jewels of the heavens, still held some remembrance of the warm day now sleeping, and the gardens lay in peace. A candle flame cast a circle of light upon the small, round table, created from the same white stone that also made up the balcony.
He smiled, before the voice spoke.
“The nights are short.”
He inclined his head but did not turn around. “They are. But no less beautiful.”
“True.”
He shifted a little to the right to make room next to him, mindful of the table with its burning burden. A graceful hand landed on the smooth railing just as the first heavy wave of a flowery scent washed over them from the blooming jasmines below.
“Tell me… Faramir, why do we run?”
He placed his own hand upon the stone and with his fingertips traced the outlines of a shadow that rested there. “Because we are frightened…” He smiled again, but more to himself this time, more self-consciously. “We are so frightened.”
“Why is that so?” Gently.
“Life is like the sea I am told… Vast and unconquerable. It holds many secrets that shall be forever hidden. We fear them, even though we do not know their nature.”
“And you?”
He fell silent.
The water in the basin he had left outside generously offered Ithil back some of his own light as it fell upon the surface.
He lifted his face to the sky and closed his eyes.
“I think that the fear of fear itself is what holds us captive.”
“Yet it is a safe haven.”
“Yet unwished for.”
A moment passed in which he knew nothing else but his own existence and the mystery that was Eä. Then quietly and calmly he was reassured.
“You are free.”
He opened his eyes and the night had deepened further. A long breath flowed past his lips. The humble glow from the candle did not waver. He turned.
The elven features were shimmering in the moonlight. He was being watched, openly but not challengingly. There was peace.
He nodded slowly.
“I am.”
Legolas smiled.
And beyond peace, there was much else
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