Sailing

The ship's deck welcomed the sea breeze, cooling off the warmth of the afternoon. The sun shone vibrantly, its rays playing with the sails, creating pockets of dancing lights in the waters. The deep blue of the sea should have been a relief since the call of the gulls had been one of his deepest desires for three years. Yet, Legolas still felt that his heart, though relieved, would not heal. He wasn't happy, even in this idyllic environment. Even though he'd fulfilled the yearning of his heart, the great ship that took the undying lands where he belonged, didn't fulfill it.

Truth be told Legolas felt miserable. His promise to Aragorn, and the betrayal he committed by giving up stirred in his soul. Yet, it was just too painful to stay in middle earth. Would his broken soul find peace in Aman ?

Elrond's sons seemed to think so, but no one knew if it was just wishful thinking since none had heard of Celebrian their mother, ever since she had sailed from the grey havens. Sighing, the elf decided that it was time to bid his own friends one last goodbye.

Just as his foot touched the first cord, his heart lurched. Rapid emotions swirled within his soul, fear, longing, and most of all, fierce determination. Legolas frowned, hands frozen upon the rough rigging; he had not felt so keenly ever since Frances' departure. Days, months and years had passed in a haze, his soul clouded in greys instead of the vibrant colours he was used to. Was his soul awakening in fear of what he left behind ?

Blood rushed in his veins, filling him with a great deal of unrest. Suddenly, the wood elf surged anew, the need to do something fuelling his limbs. Legolas climbed the rigging swiftly and settled on the mast at the very top. Ignoring the fluttering of his heart, he cupped his eyes to search for Aragorn and Gimli. They were not in the port, so he scanned the shores.

There !

Both King and dwarf stood upon a cliffside, making signs in his direction. And yelling, probably, but the wind wouldn't allow him to understand their words. Legolas frowned; what could be so important that it had to be told now, and could not have been said when they parted? Studying the signs with attention, his brain finally acknowledged some of them. Swimming? Why would they sign such a thing when everything they had left to say was goodbye?

Gimli them pointed at something in the water, and the things suddenly clicked into place. A familiar dread crept up his spine, an emotion he had not felt for years.

Swirling around the mast, Legolas ordered all sails to be taken down. At once the ship filled up with sailors, no one questioning the orders of the prince of Greenwood. One by one, the immaculate sheets were folded and secured on the yards, and the elf eventually got a good view over the endless sea. His keen eyes searched, time stretching while his chest heaved in expectation.

Determination, once more, washed like a wave against him. Somehow, he knew… he knew that those emotions didn't belong to him, because he had given up on them long ago. Those emotions came from the bond…

Frances !

No one but her could have taken such a plunge into the sea to reach him. No one sane enough! Joy, fear and incredulity flooded him at once, and the elf nearly lost his balance such was the anticipation. What if he was mistaken ? Could he survive the disappointment ?

At last he saw her, a little figure struggling in the waves some distance from them. The plastered hair did hide most of her face, but there was no doubt as to who she was. The fiery strands gave her away.

By the Valar.

Legolas suddenly felt light-headed, his long-lost energy returning in waves as hope permeated his soul. Could it be true? Was he not dreaming? Squeezing his eyes shut, he counted to ten before opening them again. And then, the incredible truth was revealed. Frances had come back for him!

At once, Legolas shouted to the crew to turn around, showing them the lady swimming towards them. His heart threatened to leap out of his chest, his glow growing by the second. Shouts were heard on the deck while they tried to adjust the trajectory, but the elf could not hear anything while he tried to reach for her through their bond. She was exhausted, but resolved. He frowned. Would she manage to hold on until they came? There was no point jumping down; the boat would be faster than him and his efforts be wasted. But he could let her know he was there. Putting his hands beside his face, he screamed at the top of his lungs.

"Frances! Hold on meleth!"

Legolas voice was all it took for Frances to weep with joy. Lifting her head, she saw the ship change course towards her. She would have yelled back to him, but exhausted as she was, she just laid on her back and started floating around to rest. Minutes passed, minutes that seemed like hours to her.

Frances jerked. She had nearly fallen asleep in the cold water. Hypothermia was getting dangerously close; if she did not pay attention, she would be dead soon. She started moving again to restore some warmth to her frozen limbs.

At last, the white wood of the sailing ship towered over her. And at the prow stood Legolas. Tall and proud, as bright as she remembered, his face glowing happiness or was it their bond that flooded her with such light ? She had never doubted his feelings, but seeing how his features shone wiped any of her doubts! Taking one last sprint, the young woman began crawling her way to the ship. It took everything she had left, but soon she was fending off the waves and came in reach of the majestic vessel, panting heavily.

Legolas watched her progress with wary eyes. The amount of energy that was needed to break the waves countercurrent amazed him, and it took all of his will power not to jump into the water himself. They were getting closer.

"Hold on, meleth nin. I will get you."

Frances stopped swimming, lifting her head up and locking eyes with him. Legolas' knees buckled such was the intensity of her gaze. Longing, love, amazement, admiration, disbelief and pure joy. All of it in one simple look.

His people dropped a rope ladder over the side. But his eyes would not leave hers. He couldn't take the risk; if her body failed her, he would jump and retrieve her in a heartbeat. As long as his eyes were strained on her, she was safe. But it was no use worrying, for Frances was steady. Exhausted, but steady.

The ship glided towards her, its speed reduced, and she swam out of the way. Legolas descended the ladder in a flash, one of his hands safely secured on the rope, his whole body angling down to retrieve her. It felt so strange to be back there, and at the same time so natural. Legolas extended one hand in her direction; she did the same. As their fingers touched Frances dove into his deep ocean eyes, and she knew that she would never leave him again.

But she was cold, and her muscles so stiff from the effort than she could not manage to close her fingers against his. Legolas grabbed her wrist and lifted her up effortlessly, bringing her slender frame flush against his. He gasped, feeling the coldness of her skin against his soaked tunic. Hypothermia was only a breath away, and only now did he realise the folly of her actions. She had nearly died to join him!

She would now be sinking into the bottomless Ocean had his friends not managed to warn him. This realisation made his heart stutter, and the prince crushed her shaking from his chest.

"I have you, meleth nín."

Warmth spread into her chest; his scent surrounding her for the first time in three years. Tears of joy sprang from Frances' eyes, but she was too winded to speak. Legolas kept her locked into his side as the rope lifted them up to the quarterdeck, repeating her name as he held fast. The feel of his body against her, after so long, caused her own to hum.

Everything was so familiar; the touch of his glowing skin over hers, the pressure of his warm muscles, the subtle scent of pinewood, his silky hair floating in the wind and caressing her cheeks. She wanted to hug him so badly, but her arms were too stiff to even grab his tunic. She was absolutely spent, so helpless that they had to hoist her up like a rag doll. Legolas' grip, though, was secure around her waist. It held a promise; the promise to never let go.

As they touched the ground, Frances' legs gave out, the muscles too rigid to function properly. Legolas caught her, looking down with concerned eyes.

"Frances! Will you be alright?"

She nodded, unable to utter a word as her teeth shattered. Her body felt numb against his, the sensation lost on her cold skin. A wave of exhaustion washed over her, and Frances closed her eyes, resting her head in the crook of his neck. Legolas' heart swelled with joy. His hand came into her damp hair, pulling her close, and he started trailing kisses on her temples while she tried to regain a bit of composure.

"Frances, meleth nín, I thought I had lost you forever…"

"Well, that was close," she mumbled.

"You're frozen Frances, let me take care of you."

These words being said, the elf picked up the icy woman in his arms and strode down to his cabin.

"Bring me some blankets!" he exclaimed, his tone authoritative.

As soon as the words were uttered, a maid rushed in, the required blankets folded in her outstretched hands.

"Do you wish for some help my lord?"

"No, but we need to get back to port. Turn this ship around," responded Legolas, ignoring the pointed stare the woman gave him.

As he closed the wooden door with a kick of his feet, Legolas turned his gaze to the dripping wet woman lying in his arms. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips blue. It was not the first time he saw her like this, a memory of Caradhras quite vivid in his mind. He had no idea, at that time, what she would mean to him one day, but her apparent fragility had struck a chord. He would never let her go, not matter the difficulties of her being a human. He'd rather spend forty years at her side than eternity without her. She was watching him now, her teeth chattering in a merry dance.

"I can help you with the nightgown, if you don't mind?"

"T'sok," she answered.

Legolas smiled at the long-forgotten expression, then he tugged on her dripping nightgown. Frances allowed Legolas' hands to work for her, wondering why her elation was laced with worry. She was too exhausted to feel self-conscious, and still too catatonic to help him out. His eyes stayed on her face as he worked, his warm hands raising goosebumps here it touched her bare skin.

Soon, she was cuddled in the blanket in the elf's lap, his chin resting over her head. Legolas frowned, this would not do. He couldn't looser her to pneumonia.

An instant later Frances was resting against him, her hair folded in a cotton cloth. The rest of her was slowly coming back to life in the heavy blankets that surrounded her like a cocoon. It felt good to feel his chest move under her head. Time passed, the gentle rocking of the ship lulling her into contentment.

"Thank you, Legolas'

"Meleth," he breathed while turning his face down to have a better look at her face. "I will never thank you enough for your courage. I have been a coward…"

She shushed him gently, and tilted her head upwards to contemplate his fair features, closing her eyes for a moment.

"You do not know how to be a coward, my love."

"I have been weak," he responded with regret. "My oath to Aragorn was broken, and I attempted to flee to Aman instead of trusting you to get back to me."

Frances' lifted her hand to reach for his cheek, her touch shy.

"Hush Legolas. I was so worried about you. If you have felt our separation as keenly as I have, I am surprised you didn't fade from grief."

"I nearly did. This is why Aragorn released me from my promise, and my father pushed me to sail."

"I understand."

For a moment, Frances closed her eyes, resting her head on his chest. The mere notion of his fading was enough to pinch her heart. His voice, tentative, asked:

"How did you … how did you survive this?"

There was so much she wanted to tell him. How she had struggled to find a reason to live, how the world felt foreign without him, and insipid, how the vision of him dying in her world had terrified her. How the sheer strength of her will had kept her alive and she searched for a way to get back to him. How she has researched day and night, hiding her true aim from her friends in Stargate command in hopes of finding the right planet.

But it was a complicated tale better kept for later.

"I am human after all Legolas, we are, in the end, a very resilient race."

"And you are the toughest of all, my lovely Frances. You have changed a little, matured somehow, it shows in your eyes. But it is still you, isn't it?"

The young woman hesitated for an instant, her eyebrows scrunching slightly. That would certainly be a difficult notion for him to grasp.

"Well … sort of"

"Whatever do you mean, meleth?"

Legolas' face morphed into a worrisome expression, and Frances sought to ease his fears at once.

"It is me. I am, in fact, a new Frances with a brand-new body, like a copy. An identical twin that was fabricated from the first one. She sent me in her stead, sacrificed her own happiness to continue living on earth and serve the Valar, and her planet."

Appalled, Legolas straightened.

"So you mean to say that you are not Frances?"

"Do not misunderstand me. I am Frances, I just have a brand-new body. It is just that there are two of us now. Twin Franceses, so to speak, now going separate ways."

This was the most astonishing news he had ever heard, and Legolas frowned deeply. Was she, or not, the young woman he had fallen in love with? As he searched for their bond, he found it quite renewed by their proximity. His heartbeat picked up as he asked the question that burnt his lips.

"So you will stay?"

"Until my last breath"

As he gazed into her eyes, watching the adoration that poured out of her, and the peace that spread over her face, he knew he had his answer. She was Frances, and she was his, and he would wait until later to feel bad about the other self that stayed on earth. May she be happy as well! As for now, his heart sung the most joyful of songs, and he longed to touch her.

Legolas' warm lips pressed gently to hers, and for a moment both of them stayed very still. His pinewood scent wrapped around Frances' body and overcame her senses. She felt alive again, his gentle caress suddenly spread warmth into her sore muscles. The kiss ended too soon, and Frances shifted to stare into his eyes once more. Dislodged by the sudden movement the blanket slid off, barely covering her chest anymore. Before Legolas could pull it back, she grabbed his hands and rested them upon her hips.

The elf caressed her smooth skin tentatively, trying to master his will to cover her again, but his hands had other ideas. Her warming skin called to him, and his fingers were too happy to cover every inch of her body. She was watching him with a combination of awe and hunger, and when she searched for his lips he could not prevent himself from sliding his tongue inside her mouth. She tasted like sugar and spices, and they slowly came to terms that there was no going back.

Frances tasted him like the delicious treat he was, pressing her body against his, her hands fiddling with his soaked tunic. She needed him close, and by the grip of his hand over her hips, he agreed heartily. The young woman reached for his collar; she needed the contact of his skin as much as she needed air to breathe, the barrier of the fabric unbearable between them. Eventually, the elf helped her slide the tunic over his head, his toned chest revealed.

Had she been sound of mind, Frances would have marvelled at the glow of his pale skin, or the beauty of his chiselled body. But right now, she was only interested in wrapping herself around him, the sensation of his skin on hers breathtaking. Her whole body hummed in tune with his, the glow around them intensifying by the second.

Feeling bold, Legolas dismissed the blanket with one of his hands. Almost naked save for her panties, Frances clung to him, her body warm against his, tantalising, as he lowered her onto his bed. She was so beautiful! Her creamy skin nearly glowing in the sunlight, her curves feminines, but firm, her toned body tangling in the sheets, red strands falling in waves over her full breasts. Frances was purring, her body totally caught in the sweet moment of intimacy with the ellon she loved more than life, and when he hoovered over her she could not resist trailing kisses along his torso.

Legolas moaned, melting into her caresses, her lips setting his skin on fire. Soon she had grabbed his breeches and he found himself naked, his body tangled with hers in the silken sheets. They kissed again and again, caressing every inch of skin, exploring their bodies carefully with endless care. Frances' skin held the strong scent of the sea, and Legolas realised that by answering the call of the sea, he had found her.

Then Frances pulled him to her, and Legolas pinned her beneath his weight, relishing in the way she moulded against him. Her legs opened, surrounding him, calling him home. The irresistible need to merge his body with hers pulled at his guts; he buried himself in her warmth with a moan.

An explosion of sensation greeted him. Overwhelmed, Legolas could only follow his instincts since his mind shut down completely. So that was it; what bonding really felt like! Elves did commit only once in their lives, and never since he was born the prince of Greenwood had felt inclined to surrender his will to any Elleth. But now, while he felt her body surround him in every possible way, lips washing down her skin and raising goose bumps on its trail, Legolas thought that there was no one more perfect for him.

The elf glowed, his pulse vibrant as he made love to the woman who had stolen his heart. Her moan delighted him, her breath and heartbeat racing, her legs pulling him further and further until they were but one whole entity. His Feä raised, swirling around her in search of its soulmate. Frances sighed, surrendering her body and her soul with such joy that Legolas wept in the crook of her neck.

Frances was home. She WAS home.