The Unforgiven { Legolas x OC - LotR Fanfiction}

Dub thee Unforgiven

It was chaos in her head; she did not know where she was. How did she get there? What to do? Where to go? All those questions baffled her head, for the moment she opened her eyes. She breathed deeply scanning the bright chamber, where she was resting. She could not recall that place. 'Ethir' her inner voice said. At least she remembered her name. Was that the only thing she remembered about her life? What was her last memory? She only heard a voice in her head again 'Gandalf and I escaping from Isengard and reaching Rivendell. There was supposed to be a quest. To destroy the ring.. to destroy Sauron!' Her eyes narrowed she could remember that much. After that, her memories were shattered into pieces. She could only recall slights of memories, that were still foggy and blurry. Sadly, she could not understand. Her memory was clouded, the past a fading dream and nothing to prove if it was real. There was part of her memories that were still there and part that were blended like pieces of a puzzle. A puzzle she could recollect only tiny pieces.

Ethir sat up and straightened her body, removing the covers and revealing her attire. She blinked a couple of times confused as she kept gazing at the light green nightgown she was wearing. It was made out of silk and felt so light like she was not wearing anything. She dragged her legs out of the bed and let them touch the ground. Her eyes were still admiring the wooden and stone architecture of the room. She wore her slippers and stood up. The place reminded her of something, yet she could not name it. Her eyes lowered against her attire once more. 'I am wearing a gown! Why? I never wore a gown before...' her inner voice went on talking inside her head. 'Maybe I have seen myself wearing a gown in a dream or did it happen' Her mind could not verify the fact.

Ethir was lost. In a foggy world. Mystical and magical. But it was bad. Ethir was lost in a horrible place. A place of dreams and secrets and lies. A place where memories would haunt her and the people who used to love her would frighten the life out of her. Since she could not recall the most important memories of her life. In her current state, she could not remember the 'annoying Ellon', Mirkwood, her friends, the quest, neither her uncle nor the Elvenking. Were those memories gone forever, or not? As for Legolas, their love, and their bond? What had happened to that? There was no answer, as there was no memory.

Yet, that was not her only problem. She felt an emptiness. A deep loss in her inner parts. Like a part of her soul was gone. Indeed, her darkness, her wickedness was no longer with her. Then that meant that Sauron had perished, and the ring was long destroyed. She was clever enough to figure that out. But still, what was that strange feeling? Like something new was blossoming inside of her. Her Fëar was awoken. Surely, it would take a lot of work to figure it out. On the contrary, it was there finally filling her emptiness. Actually, how did her Fëar manage to find its way?

A few hours earlier...

Four long days had passed and Ethir was still deeply asleep. Legolas did not return as his father asked him. Since his bond with Ethir was not strong enough, Ellon could not feel that something occurred to his bond. He messaged his father back, explaining that a new fear was rising in the north borders. The orcs and the goblins were planning attack after attack. He could not leave at that critical moment and returned. He would return only if the matter was really serious. The Elvenking decided to keep Legolas, Gimli, and his party to deal with that problem. And he would do his best to deal with Ethir. Maybe, they would manage to find an answer before the prince had returned.

Thranduil spent most of the day and night, looking out of his daughter-in-law. His mind spun around the idea to awake her Fëar. With her memory gone and her Fëar roused from sleep, she could slowly occupy to the full capacity of her emptiness. As she works to regain her memories and build up herself, her Fëar could slowly grow. And maybe she could find herself. Of course, managing to alert her Fëar to rise was not an easy task. There were not many elves that knew the art of producing a desired effect and result through the use of incantation to awake a Fëar. And if an elf was wise and capable enough to do so. There had to be a link between the one that was calling out the Fëar and the one that owned the Fëar. Like a family member, like a father helping his son etc. True be told, the Elvenking knew that kind of sorcery to wake up someone's Fëar. Even much stronger witchery than that.