Goodbye to Earth

Two unexpected visitors knocked on Imrahil's door this very night, and the Prince of Dol Amroth realised that his life couldn't get any weirder, for before him stood the two identical sons of Elrond. He greeted them with some amusement, and led them to the Prince of Greenwood and his beloved. The lady Frances being asleep, the three elves settled in the deserted living room to entertain a private conversation in hushed tones. Needless to say, that no human could possibly overhear the Sindarin that flowed through their mouth like a waterfall.

In their saddlebags, the twins carried a letter from King Thranduil. Although they knew not its content, the pursed lips of Legolas as his keen eyes went through the tengwar script was enough.

"My father will not travel south to meet Frances," he eventually sighed in defeat. "He says that the kingdom needs his very attention albeit I do not believe it to be the sole reason. He did not write the words, but I can feel his reluctance and anger"

Elladan's hand squeezed his shoulder in comfort.

"It is understandable, my friend. Our father has had a hard time accepting Arwen's wedding, although he loved Estel dearly,"

Legolas nodded. There was much left unsaid, especially since he knew how torn his father had been to let him sail to the undying land. Surely the memory of his broken self would haunt him for centuries, and given the stubbornness of his father, he"d take the situation out on Frances for being human, and from another world. Even if Legolas was happy now, his bonding with her still condemned him to an eternity of loneliness. There was no way of knowing how upset his father was. Still, it would not deter him from presenting Frances as his wife, and hold a marriage ceremony in Greenwood. He hoped that the sylvan elves would be kinder to her than his wounded father.

"Now this is settled, I have to admit that your timing is impeccable."

The twins grinned, and only one word escaped their lips at the very same time. One word that explained it all.

"Arwen"

Legolas nodded. Arwen had sent them in a time of need, using her gift of foresight. The prince was glad to have elven company. Despite their Noldorin descent – something that his grandfather would have been spooked at – he found that the twin's presence was a welcome support. Their shared love for Frances was a bond as strong as their need to fight the dark lord himself.

"We need to find a way for Frances to say goodbye to Earth."

The following morning, Frances found her beloved by her side with a smile upon his tempting lips, sunrays brightening his golden hair. Yet, he did not engage her in any kind of activity, helping her in a dress rather hastily, and dragging her to the dining room to partake in breakfast. Frances could feel his giddiness through their bond, and she knew then that he had something on his mind. The suspense did not last long, for as soon as her steps passed the threshold, a blur of dark hair rushed to meet her and she was engulfed in a huge twin hug.

Laughing in delight, Frances hugged them back, her heart exploding with joy at seeing her favourite pair of elves. Her feet did not meet the ground, kicking helplessly as she was lifted in the air and passed from Elrohir – ever the impatient one – to Elladan. Legolas had stepped aside, his blue eye shining with mirth at seeing the reunion of the siblings. For he was quite sure now; Frances had been adopted by the twins. How fitting that she would have her two new brothers, as mischievous as the former ones, to help her pass from earth to Arda. At last, the twins released her beloved, and he let his hand slide around her waist to claim her back. Frances hugged him fiercely, her cheeks rosy from the exertion, her eyes shining with happiness. Needless to say, that the house of Dol Amroth was in uproar at hosting such esteemed guests.

The day was passed on the beach with an impromptu picnic that the twins had stolen from Imrahil's kitchen. Surprisingly, the three elves displayed such childish behaviour that Frances felt like the only responsible one. She had not thought that Legolas would let himself be caught in sand battles, nor in a race along the beach, nor even in the wrestling match that had them soaked by midday. At some point, Elladan stole Frances, settling her on his shoulders, and dragged her in the water. The chaos that ensued was memorable, with Legolas trying to get her back as she was twisting and giggling in the elf's grip, eventually escaping underwater, and Elrohir laughing his head off. It was hard to reconcile the scene before her to the lethality of them all. Still, she knew that should any threat arise, the three of them could immediately switch into warrior mode, and they would become an unstoppable force. For the moment though, the only danger came from their respective pride. As Legolas flung himself to Elladan and both elves disappeared underwater in a great splash, Elrohir cried:

"Behold the famed warriors of the war of the ring!"

By the time the mischievous elves emerged, Frances had joined Elrohir by the shore. She could not believe how carefree her husband could sometimes be when there was five hundred years of wisdom and experience weighing him down. The young lady watched the two elves trying to gain the upper hand on the other in a sparring match, and realised her statement untrue.

Had she been centuries years old, all this knowledge would have weighed her down. But it wasn't the same way for Legolas. His wisdom was displayed every day, in little and grand things alike, in the way he lived. Sometimes, it also showed because he decided that being carefree was necessary to ensure happiness. No, it wasn't a weight. This experience made his life merrier, more intense, more beautiful because he relished in the moment. There was the great difference between the mind of the elder, and those of the second born.

The afternoon was another affair as the twins suggested that they gather rocks and shells. When Frances asked why the sudden interest in pebbles, they answered sternly that a ceremony under the stars was to be held, to remember her previous life on earth and honour the loss of her kin. Each shell would represent a person, each pebble a situation that was dear to her heart. There were many tears shed as she gathered the necessary supplies, and he twins left her in peace for the remainder of the afternoon, hoping that Legolas would support her through this difficult moment of meditation.

The stars shone brightly that night, the moon just a crescent that allowed Earendil to radiate the light of the Silmaril. Frances sighed as her gaze travelled downwards, down to the cliff-side where the ocean crashed relentlessly. Standing on the edge, she couldn't prevent from remembering the leap of faith she had taken as she jumped from the ledge, a mere three weeks ago. The memory was embedded in her mind along the huge number of memories from her past life, her life on earth. A warm hand caressed her lower back before settling in, the brightness of its owner giving her the strength she sorely needed and lacked at the moment.

Legolas said nothing as tears streamed down her face, nothing as he warily surveilled the waves below, realising that Frances had indeed jumped in such a dangerous spot to prevent him from sailing. Yet, he couldn't refrain the shiver that ran up his spine. If she had been able to fling herself from a cliff, like Elwing in the days of old, she was more than capable of performing the ritual they had created for her.

Behind them, two ethereal voices rose in the air, waving a mourning song as beautiful as it was melancholic. Frances exhaled slowly, and replenished her lungs. Then, her hand dove into her bag, and grabbed a lovely shell. Frances contemplated the iridescent material in her palm with love. Her father, first one to go. Casting it into the ocean, the young lady muttered a fond goodbye to the man who has raised her. A farewell to her mentor, to his carefree attitude, to their tennis matches and crazy ski rides, to their moments learning tarot, and all the stupid jokes he had ever made.

Next came her mother, her loving arms and easy smile, her cakes and tempests. The shell didn't make a sound as it plunged into the sea to disappear forever, drowned into the rumble of the waves. Her brothers joined them, her cousin, uncles, and friends. Some teachers even, to which she had grown attached as a daughter of two maths professors. All of them committed to the deep.

The tears would not stop, diffracting the light from the stars into a thousand shining dots in her vision. Sobs threatened to cripple her as the last of her shell was thrown away, her chest aching with the grief to let those people go. Her sole consolation was that they wouldn't suffer as she did, because the other Frances was still there. A balm to her broken soul. Her damnation as well, as none of them would ever know that another Frances has left their world. For a while, only the twins' voices could be heard above the rolling thunder of the waves. Then, she reached for her bag, and retrieved a shiny stone. Without turning to Legolas – she was too ashamed of her weakness to do so – she addressed him in a choking voice.

"This one is for chocolate."

Ploof. The stone was thrown into the sea.

"This one for ice cream"

Ploof.

"And tennis, and skiing"

Ploof. Ploof. Ploof. The pebbles flew from her hands, representing all the things she would miss from her world, and would never get to do again. A plane ride, shopping, a takeaway pizza, indoor plumbing, the internet, drawing on a computer, sexy clothes and dentelle de Calais, fireworks in Champs élysées, eating chouchous on the beach, playing the piano, listening to music in her room … so many different things that she loved doing, but would do no more.

In the end, Frances was panting, her bag empty, her husband gently glowing by her side without ever intruding. A smile replaced her tears, and Frances relished in Legolas' supporting presence. He had not left her side once, his hand settled just over her hips, nor moving, nor saying anything to allow herself to regroup. Yet he was there should she need him, and it was the best feeling of the world. Tomorrow, they would leave and she would visit some lost friends, friends she had dearly missed in the last three years.

And then, her voice rose in the night, as the twins' song died.

"But since it falls unto my lot

"That I should rise and you should not."

"I'll gently rise and softly call."

"Good night and joy be with you all."

Legolas heard her sharp inhale before the last verse was uttered.

"Good night and joy be with you all."

A long stretch of silence welcomed her last words, Legolas's hand firmly clasping hers. He had forgotten how raw her emotions were when she sang, and how beautiful it was to simply witness it. There was so much power in her voice, the strength of her will, pouring out of her in melodies of the other world.

Her eyes shining, Frances eventually turned to him.

"Thank you," she whispered, knowing her would hear her.

"Anything for you, meleth nin"

As he engulfed her in his strong arms, warmth spread over her body, travelling from head to toe, promising her that her new life would be forever sheltered within the safety of his love. Their embrace lasted a long time, neither of them willing to move as they relished in the beauty of their entwined bodies.

'So, this is where you jumped into the Ocean," came Elrohir's deadpan quip.

Frances turned her head aside, settling her ear against Legolas's chest, and nodded. Elladan whistled, taking in the height of the fall, his grey eyes disturbed by the idea. His gaze encountered Legolas's, and he was surprised that his fellow elf seemed to accept the mind-blowing fact that his wife would do such a reckless thing.

"Aye, sweet lady. You certainly do not disappoint. One instant into our world, and doing such a feat already."

This time, Frances chuckled to hide her unease.

"I fully intend to claim a quiet and happy life now that I have my beloved back."

"Yeah. Sure. Whatever."

Frances' eyebrow lifted in the challenge. Elrohir had learnt this less than polite expression from her anyway. Damn the twins for knowing her so well.

"Wanna jump?" she teased.

Legolas's arms tightened around her.

"Please do not take a bet with those mischievous Noldori. You know how incapable I am to retrieve you should you do so."

Smiling, Frances' eyes lifted to her husband. Her breath caught, and for a moment, she was absolutely unable to remember what she had in mind such was the light in his eyes. Then, her hand cupped his cheek, and the elf closed his eyes to snuggle into her touch.

"The ocean should not be trifled with. I had an excellent reason to put myself in harm's way, as I now have an excellent one to stay safe."

Legolas bent over, his lips caressing her in a chaste kiss as he nodded his assent.

"Come, mon amour," she said. "Let us rest before setting off to Minas Tirith. As for you, mischievous twins … thank you. That song healed my heart."

Both twins grinned, their smiles uneasy, and engulfed the couple in a mighty hug.

Three days later, Frances found herself stuck in a vice grip. The radiant queen of Gondor had barely managed to refrain a squeal before dragging the young lady into her private chambers and hugging her to death. Frances did not fare much better; it had been more than three years that she had said her farewell to Arwen in Rivendell, and she had missed her wedding altogether. There was much to catch up for, and both ladies disappeared from the world for many hours.

Arwen's happiness was so absolute so radiant that Frances's pain started to fade away. They were now both married ladies of high rank, one a Queen, another a Princess, and yet, they could not refrain from giggling like schoolgirls at sharing their respective stories. An elf maiden with a man, and a human girl with an elf. What a mess they had got themselves into! A pang of sadness went through Frances when she realised that Legolas's father, akin to Lord Elrond, would have wished the reverse match. Frances with Aragorn, and Arwen with Legolas would have ensured the wood elf's happiness, as well as the Evenstar's.

But who could claim the taming of the heart ?

The ladies joined the men for dinner, and Arwen could not help but dress Frances in a brilliant gown of bluish green that made her hair stand out. Filled with awe, the young lady joined her elf husband at the table, her seat directly beside Aragorn in a sign of welcome. Her cheeks heated as she realised that, no content to be his friend, the King of Gondor also displayed his esteem of her in the most blatant way.

Beside her, Legolas beamed with pride such was the beauty and the renewed glow on Frances' face. It was up to him, now, to help her find her place in this new world, and he vowed to do everything for her to be happy. The memory of Helm's deep crashed through his mind, the image of Frances' armoured body marching to the wall as he vowed to keep her in sight, and keep her safe. He had spectacularly failed that day, and dearly hoped to be more successful. By his side sat Gimli, his face a little weary from the hard work of the day, yet satisfied.

This night, Legolas shared his plan to build a colony in Ithilien to help the land regain its splendour. Aragorn's joy danced in his grey eyes; his great friend would be but a few hours' ride from the capital of Gondor. Gimli wanted to settle in the Gliterring Caves, and would hence be in reach. Frances' heart leapt at the prospect of seeing more of them all, and even further at the idea of being in range of Dol Amroth.

"We will need to gather some people in the woodland," stated the prince as his hand covered his wife's.

Frances peeked at him curiously, feeling some nervousness flowing through their bond.

"If you so accept, meleth nin, I would love for us to travel to Eryn Lasgalen to meet my people, and I shall present you as my wife"

Frances' breath caught in her chest. That was it, the point of no return. As Legolas' searched her hazel eyes, he caught the fear that inhabited them. He knew her beloved to be quick-minded, and the subject of her indecision remained private as no one mentioned King Thranduil. Yet they both knew what his request meant. Confrontation. Very soon though, resolve settled on her face.

"Then it is decided. You will guide me to your childhood home."

Gimli's grunt was the only witness to the thoughts of all, albeit none could ignore that the meeting that was about to take place in Greenwood the Great would be worth watching. Frances was neither impolite, nor rash, but she wasn't one to back down either. And regarding Legolas, that was no battle she would fight more fiercely than their right to be together, especially after what they had been through. Her practical mind, though, travelled down another path.

"Should I not harbour an elvish name as a princess of Greenwood?" she asked, startling her companions.

Legolas frowned, his heart uneasy. He knew that his father, for one, would be spooked by her human name, but he could not let those who thought the same to strip his beloved from her inheritance.

"I would never ask you to change your name, meleth. My people should be able to accept you no matter what."

Frances shook her head, the reddish curls bouncing about her face.

"And still, overlooking my origins will be impossible for them, and a human name can only be a reminder. A reminder that will be spoken in every single sentence"

Elladan leant across the table, his grey eyes intense as he followed her line of thoughts.

"I mean no offence, Frances, but no eldar can ever forget that you are human, no matter what name you bear."

"This is not my intend."

Frances searched for Aragorn's gaze. His face was pensive, his eyes guarded, as if he considered all the political implications of her suggestions. Beside her though, Arwen's radiant face harboured a smile, as if she knew something that no one else did.

"Help me there!"

Arwen's musical laugh rang, her grey eyes mischievous as her ageless gaze roamed across the table.

"She is right, my friends. Do not fear changing her, for she is already changed. The Frances you have known has stayed behind, and will continue serving the Valar. But here, another lady was born, a lady that has sworn herself to middle earth, and belongs in Arda."

And so, many days were spent in Minas Tirith where names were listed on a parchment as Elladan, Elrohir Aragorn and Legolas all rocked their mind to find a suitable replacement for Frances. In the meantime, the young lady walked around with her husband and Gimli, gaping at the tremendous amount of work that the dwarves had done to restore the great city to its former glory, and their sheer talent when it came to stone carving. Legolas and Gimli joyously bantered, and Frances marvelled at their closeness born from many months travelling together. Never before had she seen such a strong a refreshing friendship, its existence was enough to lighten her heart.

Minas Tirith was akin to a Gruyère from Switzerland, a maze of alleys and little passages carved in white stone, a wonder to the eyes even if it felt a little overcrowded. As much as Frances enjoyed being dragged from shop to shop to replenish her trousseau – Arwen's idea – she started to feel bad from the lack of nature around her. At least, from their chambers in the citadel, she could see beyond the walls and dream of the trees.

Gimli mocked her more than once, stating that she was turning into a wood elf and blaming Legolas for their Feä bond, but they both knew better. Frances had always felt the call of nature, and researched the solace of trees to flee the bustles of cities. Maybe that Legolas was right, maybe that her soul was tainted by a spark of the eldar. It made sense, then, that the Valar would have chosen her if she retained a little of their first born into her core.