The Awakening of Sadril

Chapter 4: Summer's End
by Sienna Dawn
Disclaimer: All familiar characters of this story belong to the awesome world and works of JRR Tolkien, who is an unparalleled genius of this genre. All unfamiliar and original characters, animals and places are of my own invention. I do not derive any monies from this work and created this story solely out of the love and respect that I hold for all of the works related to this canon.

They avoided each other for days and no more did Legolas come to wait for Sadril outside the Healer's Hall.

Nathor was quickly deteriorating and all that could be done was to keep him clean and comfortable. Now, Sadril rarely left his side, thoughts of her feelings for Legolas pushed to the back of her mind.

It was on a crisp clear morning in the first days of autumn that Nathor's spirit broke free of its ravaged body and departed Arda.

Sadril was by his side and mourned his passing bitterly, weeping over his still body, refusing to let anyone come near.

Legolas, furiously working to complete the ship before Gimli deteriorated beyond salvage, heard her weeping on that day and quickly made his way to the Healer's Hall.

They led him to the bare cell where the man's wasted body lay and he saw there his beloved draped over the body, weeping with such misery that it nearly broke his heart.

Approaching Sadril slowly, Legolas refrained himself from touching her, but called out her name softly.

"Sadril." His soft melodic voice dropped to a lower range.

No response came. Sadril was so deep in her misery that her mind did not register the presence of another.

Legolas tried again, this time walking closer to her. "Sadril, meleth nin."

He reached out and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. Her body shook with quiet sobs. He spoke softly, dropping his musical voice to a mere whisper. "Meleth nin....come."

"Do not call me that!" Sadril cried and suddenly turned her tear-stained face toward Legolas and he saw that her eyes were red and swollen. "Do not call me that!" She repeated again, her voice still and sad, her eyes dull from pain.

Standing away from her husband's corpse, she looked into the still face and bent down to caress it. " 'Twas he the only one had right to call me thus." Her black eyes filled with tears and silently they coursed down her face. " 'Twas because of me that he died, Legolas. 'Twas my fault. I bade him bring me here. So he could see Mithlond."

She turned her face, sadness and despair filling her eyes with pain. "I did not think the Plague still haunted this land. How was I to know?" She turned and looked back at the form on the bed, her body now slumping into Legolas' waiting arms. She buried her face in his chest. "How was I to know?" Her voice trailed away and Legolas slowly led her from the room so the Healers could work on preparing the body for the funeral ritual to follow.

Walking her slowly to the large gardens within the Hall, Legolas brought Sadril to a low bench and sat her down. Kneeling before her, he took her hands in his and spoke as gently as he could.

"Perhaps now my words mean naught; I do not know." He raised a hand to her curls and caressed the top of her head. Sadril's eyes were dropped to the ground. Legolas did not know if she heard him or not.

"This I do know. You have no guilt in Nathor's death." He saw her stiffen slightly at that, but he continued, "only the Valar know what good is to come from this."

Sadril slowly raised her eyes and stared into Legolas' face. "Good?" She spat the word. "This is a good thing?" She looked into Legolas' gentle face and turned from him, pulling her hands out of his grasp. "Leave me, Prince Legolas."

Her tone was final and cold and her use of his formal title surprised him. Still, Legolas gave Sadril what she wanted. Standing, he courteously bowed low to her and silently strode from the garden.

Later that night, Nathor's body was cremated and his ashes scattered over the sea. It was a solemn and quiet ceremony. Sadril stoically stood as the fires consumed what was left of the once-proud warrior. By sunrise the ceremony was at an end.

Both Legolas and Gimli had attended, the dwarf sitting down several times to rest his aching bones and Legolas knew he had precious time to waste. Nathor's funeral served as a grim reminder that he had to complete the ship and take the Straight Road before it was too late for Gimli.

But, his heart asked, "What of Sadril?"

~*~*~*~*~

Several weeks later, as winter neared, Legolas and Gimli were putting the finishing strokes on the ship. Legolas calculated they would be ready to sail within the week.

It was on one of these days, as north winds picked up the chill drafts from the mountains, that Gimli shivered and said coyly, "Are we taking passengers?"

Legolas' turned his bright eyes on his friend's face, knowing full well what the dwarf meant. Smiling a little sadly while his eyes wandered to the cottage where he knew Sadril had been hiding herself, Legolas shook his head, "Nay, my friend. We sail alone."

"That's a shame." Retorted the dwarf.

Legolas studied Gimli carefully, inviting him to an ale. Gimli quickly accepted and set off beside Legolas who watched the dwarf walk with difficulty.

Some hours later, Legolas and Gimli sat by the sea, gazing quietly at the gulls and watching the sun set.

Gimli had been observing Legolas covertly for several weeks now and he knew the elf suffered in silence. He also knew the elf had redoubled his efforts to finish their ship for his sake. But he could not allow Legolas to make such a sacrifice as to leave his love behind, for neither knew if he, a dwarf, would be allowed entry to the Blessed Realms.

Gimli cleared his throat. Smiling patiently, for he fully well knew what that signaled, Legolas turned to Gimli. "Yes, Gimli."

"Well," began the dwarf, "I was thinking."

"A dangerous activity for dwarves." Added Legolas with a laugh.

Gimli harrumphed and continued, "As I was saying, Master Elf. I was thinking. Perhaps you might need a passenger after all." He watched Legolas carefully.

But Legolas had already correctly guessed Gimli's intention and said sadly, "Nay, she bade me leave her."

Gimli laughed good naturedly. "Now I understand!" His laughter rang out in the still early evening.

Legolas shifted his weight in the chair he occupied and frowned. "What do you understand, Master Dwarf?"

Gimli's eyes were shut with laughter. "Why females are so drawn to you."

Legolas frowned but waited.

Gimli chuckled and looked at the confused elf, "You let them chase you, don't you? Very clever." He scratched his long beard. "I must confess the thought had not occurred to me."

Legolas gave Gimli a sideways glance and a smug smile. Both laughed for a while, contemplating the sea. It was Gimli, who could never stay silent for long, who spoke first.

"Go to her, my boy. There is no sin in it."

Legolas frowned but did not reply.

Later that night, while Gimli slept and snored noisily, Legolas slipped out of the cottage both friends shared and disappeared into the night. He had much thinking to do.

Key:

Meleth nin = My love

Disclaimer: All familiar characters are owned by JRR Tolkien and are used without permission. No monies are being made from this work.

Graphics copyrighted Cari Buziak