Disclaimer: Keeping in mind that this is VERY much an A/U story, I continue with my disowning of rights and such: Fellowship- not mine. Story- MINE! MY PRECIOUSSS! Oh, and the song is property of the wonderful Bon Jovi :)
*clears throat*
Now read…and review, so I know all the mistakes I'm making.
'I have suffered for my anger,
There are wars that can't be won,
Father, father, please believe me,
I am laying down my guns,
I am broken like an arrow,
Forgive me, forgive your wayward son…'And Then There were Two…
Pippin sat staring at the small blaze in front of him. Legolas had built it for him and, although the elf did not need the flames' warmth, he sat closely huddled to it just the same. He looked up at him, his protector, his last friend, and frowned. Lines of despair, grief and regret creased the soft pale skin. The hobbit knew his own face did not look much better.
They had left Gondor after the coronation of King Faramir and his marriage to Eowyn. The Gondorian council had soon decided that, since the line of Isildur had finally vanished, there was no more need for the title of Steward. Legolas had stayed only as long as discretion required and, since Faramir had released Pippin from active service to Gondor, the two had left together to head for Imladris, where they would bear the news of the fate of the Fellowship.
"You should sleep, Pippin," Legolas said softly. Pippin looked up, startled by the elf's soft voice in the long heavy silence around them. Slowly, he nodded and curled up on the ground under his torn cloak. Legolas watched him with great pity and heaviness of heart. 'You have seen much…far too much for one of your people to ever have to endure. To loose not one, but three of your kin…' he stopped then, the memory far too painful. He gave one last look to the sleeping hobbit before getting up to keep watch over him while the night lasted. He could wait to rest when they arrived in Imladris.
Of that meeting he was not looking forward too. Over and over he ran through what he would say- to Elrond, to Arwen, to his own father when he returned home. How could he tell them? What could he do to soften the blow Arwen would receive when he told her that Estel would not return? In the end he decided, ad he did every night, that he would tell them the truth. Aragorn, Boromir, Gimli, Gandalf- they had all fallen. They died valiantly, worthy of remembrance in song for many ages, even until the world ends. And the hobbits- Frodo, Sam and Merry…they had saved Middle-Earth. If not for them all would have been in vain. 'Yes,' he decided for the fourth night in a row, 'that is what I will say. Maybe then I will be permitted rest.'
He stood taller then, as his eyes watched the horizon, waiting for the dawn to wake his small companion. His heart was torn, aching for Pippin, who had seen more than any mortal should have too. He looked back to him with a frown, watching as his small body trembled from his nightmares. He wanted to wake him and free him of the terrible dreams, but knew that he needed his rest, no matter how awful the nightmares were. He heard a small voice call out, calling for his cousin and best friend who had died in captivity, mistreated by the Orcs who had caught them. That was when his nightmares had started, but there would be no respite for him, and for Legolas the grief had only begun.
'Estel…'
He had not been prepared for his death, so close to that of Gimli. It had nearly broken him and, if not for the kind words of Eowyn and the great need of his charge, would have lost his will too live. Even the memory of it brought back with painful clarity the intense emptiness and loneliness he'd felt. 'Too young,' he thought, 'far too young.'
Again his eyes travelled to the horizon, Not even a glimmer of the sun could be seen. He sighed, waiting for the night to pass, hoping that he would not think too much while he waited. Of course, as it always did, the memories began to surface. Memories of the first day the Fellowship was formed, their first journey, the first time they fought together outside Moria. They travelled further to the fall of their leader Gandalf, an omen of things to come. He sighed as he remembered it, forbidding the tear to fall from his eye. His thoughts brought him then to Amon Hen and Boromir's heroic death, saving Merry and Pippin from their own. He turned again to look on the angelic, almost peaceful face of his companion. Little did he know as they were taken, that only one of them would escape.
*be prepared…part two coming soon!