Legolas

Legolas spun around, thrusting his knife into the chest of the nearest orc. He glanced around to see Estel battling two at once several feet behind him. They fought as fiercely as they could, but Legolas knew that this time, they were out of luck. There were too many orcs. They weren't going to win this one.

The orcs were pushing them back, steadily closer to a cliff. As hard as they tried to gain ground, Legolas and Estel were forced onto the edge, a mere platform of stone, hanging precariously out over thin air. Far below them, jagged rocks poked up from the ground. It was high enough that the fall alone would kill them; at least they wouldn't have to spend hours bleeding out, impaled on the projections.

A cracking sound alerted Legolas to the fact that the rock they were on wasn't going to hold much longer. The orcs were following them, putting too much weight on the thin ledge. It would break soon if they didn't move back – and the orcs were clearly too crazed with bloodlust to realize it. He found some satisfaction in the knowledge that though he and Estel would die, so would the orcs.

He wished he could say something to Estel – tell the brother of his heart how much their friendship had meant to him – but Legolas couldn't get the breath to do so while frantically cutting orcs down. He supposed it didn't matter. Estel knew.

They were shoulder to shoulder now, making a last stand. Soon, the rock would crumble, and they would all fall.

The orcs were pushing forward, and the two of them had no choice but to hold their ground.

Estel didn't hold his ground. He let out a battle cry as he leapt into them. It was a mistake. Two blades pierced Estel's torso at once, one in his side and one in his belly. He barely seemed to notice. Orcs fell back under the unexpected advance, leaving a temporary path through their ranks.

Instead of rushing forward, Estel turned to Legolas, grabbing his arm and practically throwing him through the orcs. Legolas stumbled, but managed to get his feet.

Estel didn't join him. The man had a path through the orcs, but he didn't use it. Instead, he did the worst thing possible. He jumped, bringing his weight down hard on the already precarious rock ledge.

"NO!" Legolas was already lunging for his friend, but it was too late.

The rock crumbled. Estel's gaze met his in the eternal moment before he fell. There was too much noise to hear, but Legolas could read his friend's lips. "Namárie, mellon nin."

"Estel!" Legolas felt a wrenching pain in his heart as his best friend in the world disappeared. He stumbled forward, but was forced to stop as he reached the new edge of the cliff. Legolas threw himself onto his stomach, staring desperately downward. Surely, Estel couldn't be dead.

His heart leapt for a moment when he saw that there was indeed a branch growing out of the cliffside – but Estel was not hanging from it. Far below, Legolas saw a mass of broken bodies. He couldn't even make out Estel's corpse among the orcs.

Legolas curled himself into a ball, clutching his head in his hands. He only realized he was screaming when his throat started burning; felt like it was tearing itself apart with each agonized cry. Estel couldn't be gone. He couldn't. This wasn't happening.

But it was. Dear Valar, it was.

Estel had known that even if they got away from the edge of the cliff, there were still far too many orcs for the two of them to defeat. He'd given his life to make sure they were killed, so that Legolas would survive.

Legolas didn't know how long he stayed there for, but eventually, one thought surfaced above the agony rampaging through his mind and heart. Estel's body. He should take his friend back to Imladris, to be buried by his family.

His mind infused with new purpose, Legolas started running. There had to be a way to the bottom of the cliff. He wouldn't leave Estel to rot with the foul orcs that had killed him.

Eventually, he found a narrow path, and spent the better part of an hour stumbling along it, his mind fogged by grief. Down in the canyon, a wide river ran, and Legolas realized he was on the wrong side of it. He needed to cross if he wanted to get to Estel's body.

It was too swift and deep to swim in safely, but there had to be a bridge somewhere. There were signs of trappers and hunters down here; this area was obviously used.

Legolas wandered in a daze. All he could think of was Estel and how he'd died. Why hadn't Legolas thought of it first? He would gladly have sacrificed his life for his friend. It should have been him, not Estel, who fell.

He almost didn't notice when he came to the bridge. Legolas stumbled over the base before realizing what it was. When he did, he started walking dully across it. He wasn't watching where he was going, or really paying attention to anything much other than how badly his heart ached.

This was why he didn't notice that the bridge was in bad repair. Many of the planks were rotted and falling apart. Legolas took another step, and found his foot going right through the bridge. He was so bewildered with pain and grief that he didn't react fast enough to catch himself. He went plunging into the water below.

The river immediately snatched at him. It spun Legolas around and around, never giving him the chance to come up for a breath.

Swim. He had to swim. He was strong, he could make it to shore.

Why, though? Did he even want to live without Estel? Perhaps this was the Valar's way of giving him a way out. Maybe it was meant to be.

Legolas stopped fighting. He let the river take him. He closed his eyes, ignoring the battering of the river and the burning of his lungs.

Just as his consciousness was fading, he felt arms around him, lifting him up. Legolas smiled faintly. The Valar were taking him home.

Aragorn

Aragorn groaned, clutching at his head. The dull pain there was overwhelmed by the sharp pains in his stomach and side. He'd been stabbed. He had to stop the bleeding.

It was dark in here. Why was it dark? Aragorn thought back, trying to figure out what had happened. He'd fallen off the cliff. There had been a branch. He'd grabbed onto it, but it was too thin and had swung down. Cave. This was a cave in the cliff's face, that was right. He'd swung off the branch and fallen into the cave. He didn't remember anything after the blinding pain in his head.

Aragorn touched his skull carefully. It didn't seem to be cracked, but he had a huge lump. He wondered how long he'd been out for, and was surprised Legolas hadn't found a way down into the cave yet.

That he hadn't meant that Aragorn would have to stitch up his own injuries. He crawled to the cave entrance, where there was some light coming in, and pulled his healing satchel free from his belt. The man started sewing up his wounds with a shaky hand. He was trembling and covered in cold sweat by the time he finished stitching and bandaging. Not his best work, but it would do for now.

Aragorn leaned slightly out of the cave entrance, trying to see if Legolas was close yet. What he saw wasn't encouraging. The cliff was an overhanging one. Looking from above, Legolas would not be able to see the cave. He'd only see the orc bodies far below.

A chill went through Aragorn's body. His best friend thought he was dead.

Suddenly frantic, he searched desperately for any sort of handhold. There didn't seem to be any way to climb up, so he would climb down. Doing so with injuries like his wasn't advisable, but neither was leaving Legolas alone when he thought Aragorn was dead.

He lost track of how long he spent getting down from the cliff. Many times, Aragorn was sure he would fall, swamped with dizziness and pain, but he persevered.

When his feet finally touched the ground, all he wanted was to collapse, but he didn't. He had to find Legolas, which meant finding a way out of this canyon. He started travelling uphill, hoping that he would stumble upon a path. He found a river and followed it. Aragorn squinted. Was that a bridge in the distance?

Yes, it was, and there was someone on it! Someone with long blond hair, carrying a bow. Legolas.

He took off running without a second thought, ignoring the burning in his side. Even as he watched, the bridge crumbled, and Legolas fell.

"No! Legolas!"

Aragorn reached the water's edge, his gaze searching desperately for his friend. Legolas was a strong swimmer. He should be coming up at any moment.

He didn't, and Aragorn didn't hesitate. He dove into the freezing water.

It immediately tried to pull him under, but he fought, his eyes wide open under the surface, looking for any sign of Legolas. There, a lock of blond hair. Aragorn snatched it and quickly got a firm grip. He pulled Legolas toward him, grabbing the elf around the waist.

Now, he just needed to get them to shore. He was already weakened from blood loss, but Aragorn wouldn't let his friend die. He put aside the pain and weakness, and kicked as hard as he could. Their heads broke the water. Aragorn's strength was fast fading, but it seemed the Valar were with him today, because the battering of the river suddenly tossed them, causing them to land mere feet from the bank.

Not wasting the opportunity, he scrambled to get his feet under him, dragging Legolas along.

He stumbled onto dry ground and rolled the prince onto his back.

Legolas wasn't breathing.

Aragorn's mouth was on his at once, pushing oxygen into the elf's protesting lungs. A faint, thready heartbeat told him that his friend was still alive.

The wet, spluttering noise of the Legolas' lungs was the most beautiful thing Aragorn had ever heard. The man hauled him over onto his side just in time as the prince started vomiting out water. He thumped his friend's back until he was breathing somewhat steadily.

Aragorn rolled him back over, smiling down at Legolas in relief. "You gave me a scare there, mellon nin."

Legolas coughed weakly and spoke in a hoarse voice. "Why… hurts?"

"Well, you inhaled water, then your body had to expel it, rather violently. It's supposed to hurt, gwador."

"But… Valinor… no pain."

Was his friend delirious? A hand to his forehead had Legolas feeling cool, but that was probably just from the frigid water. "Did you bump your head?" Aragorn demanded.

"No, I don't think so… Where's my mother? I want to see her."

Aragorn's concern was mounting by the moment. "Mellon nin… your mother is dead. She died years before I was even born."

"But she's in Valinor. She'll want to see me."

"Yes, and when you sail, I'm sure she'll be there to greet you."

Legolas blinked up at him in confusion. "But – we're there now, in Valinor. Mithrandir promised – he was right. You're here, in the Undying Lands. We both are."

"No, we're at the bottom of a canyon, about a week's travel out of Imladris. Do you not remember what happened?"

"You died. Then I died."

Aragorn pressed a hand to his friend's cold cheek. "Neither of us died, Legolas, though it was a close thing. What happened? The river is fast and cold, but if I could fight it in my injured state, you should have been able to swim to shore."

Legolas' mind must still be a bit fuzzy, because he seemed stuck on the 'alive' part. "We're… we're not dead?"

"No, though it was a close thing. I grabbed a branch and fell into a cave in the cliff face. I was knocked out, and when I woke, I came to find you. I managed to pull you out of the river just in time."

Legolas stared at him with something akin to wonder. "It was you. I felt you lifting me up."

"That was me," Aragorn confirmed. "Now, you must tell me where you are injured. What happened that stopped you from being able to swim?"

Legolas suddenly wouldn't meet his eyes.

Aragorn sighed. "Mellon nin, just tell me, please. We're both soaked and freezing, I don't want to have to spend hours dragging this out of you. Tell me what happened, and then we can both focus on getting somewhere warm.

Still, Legolas wouldn't look at him. Aragorn frowned, wondering what could possibly be the problem. Legolas was usually reluctant to reveal his injuries, but now he seemed almost afraid.

"Mellon nin, what happened to you?"

Legolas

Legolas squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus. His mind was still reeling, but some of the shock was starting to wear off. Estel was alive. Legolas had almost thrown his life away for nothing. He felt tears growing behind his eyelids and shook his head, trying to banish them.

"Legolas? You are scaring me. Please just tell me what happened."

"I…" He found he still couldn't look at Estel. His friend brought a hand to his shoulder, and that comforting touch was enough to crumble any self-control Legolas had left. He threw his arms around Estel, the tears bursting from his eyes.

Estel returned the hug just as fiercely. "I thought I'd lost you," he murmured.

"I – t-thought – y-you were – d-d-dead," Legolas choked out. "Didn't w-want – to – l-live –"

Estel's arms tightened around him. "That's why you didn't swim when you fell?"

Legolas nodded his head jerkily. He felt Estel pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "I'm so sorry, mellon nin. I am here now, everything is ok."

It was, but Legolas couldn't seem to stop crying. What had he done? He'd almost made the biggest mistake of his life – a mistake that would have ended his life, had Estel not lifted him up out of that river.

Legolas could do nothing but cling to Estel as the man started rocking him gently. His fingers tightened their grip on the man's soaked tunic, and he pressed his head to Estel's chest, listening to the sure beat of his heart.

He started to shiver, and Estel was no better off. Legolas knew that they should get moving and find shelter, but his body was still wracked with violent sobs and he doubted he'd be able to stand. He also doubted he'd be able to let go of Estel; just the thought was enough to make him double his grip in panic.

Perhaps Estel felt the same, because neither of them tried to move as the sun gradually set. Eventually, his friend's shivers forced Legolas to take control of the situation. He slowly brought his tears under control, and took Estel's hand.

"You lift me up," Legolas murmured.

"What?"

"No matter where I am or when I need you, you are always there, lifting me up out of whatever trouble or danger I'm in, even if the only danger is myself."

Estel squeezed his hand. "That's what friends are for, mellon nin. You've done the same for me any number of times."

That much was true. Legolas didn't have any biological brothers, but he didn't need them. Estel was his brother, regardless of blood. "Come, we should find something to start a fire. We're both freezing."

"Agreed. There's some wood back there, by that overhang, and I still have my fire starter."

Legolas pulled Estel to his feet, quickly wrapping an arm around the man's waist. They needed to share their warmth, but more than that, Legolas needed to be close to his best friend. Thinking he'd lost Estel would haunt him for many years, and Legolas knew he'd need Estel more than ever in the coming weeks, especially at night, when the nightmares would come.

Estel put an arm around Legolas' shoulders, squeezing lightly. They walked in comfortable silence, glad simply to be alive.