Dreams
Okay, there is slash in this fic, and Legolas in lots of pain, and angst, and not a happy ending per se.
Just to warn you.
If I had Lord of the Rings, I would not be writing this. I would be hunting you all down and demanding that you pay me to use my characters. I do not have Lord of the Rings however, and am very glad that the people who do own it aren't chasing me around demanding me to pay up.
This is dedicated completely and entirely to trowacko, my tireless beta. May everyone be really nice to you tro, you deserve it.
This is a three part fic
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Aragorn sat in a meadow, with Legolas on his right. He turned his head slightly, taking in Legolas' relaxed pose. The elf had his head tilted back as his sapphire eyes drank in the sky. With a laugh, he gracefully rose, a taunt spilling from the elf's lips.
"Catch me if you can!"
Aragorn stood and gave chase as the elf led him through the meadow. A forest appeared before them, but Legolas wasn't stopped. He laughed as he ran into the woods, dancing gracefully through the weave of branches. Aragorn couldn't hold back his own gleeful laughter as he followed his friend.
'Isengard' Aragorn's mind supplied for him as he stopped near the lake in the middle of the forest. Legolas stood, his back turned towards Aragorn, not moving, but still laughing. Aragorn set a hand upon the elf's shoulder before being knocked down as Legolas spun around, his laughter turning into a painful croak.
Aragorn was shocked at the sight of his friend. The once beautiful elven prince was now mangled and maimed, his fair skin covered with burns, gouges, and gashes. His once bright eyes were dull now, cloudy and unfocused. Legolas' long golden hair had been cut short, stained with blood and muck. He seemed to be just skin and bones, covered in filth and his own blood. One phrase echoed around the two, in a singsong voice.
...I'll never tell...
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Aragorn's POV
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I bolted up, coated in a sheen of sweat and trying to regain control of my breathing. Beside me, Arwen stirred, sitting up slowly as she woke.
"What is wrong, Estel? Was it that Legolas dream again?"
I nodded, not quite trusting my voice at this moment. That Legolas dream. I've been having it every night, without fail, for a long time now. Each time it seemed to be just a little bit longer, although the "I'll never tell" phrase was always present. Never before had I actually seen Legolas when he turned, though. I always awoke feeling his pain. Pain, hopelessness, fear, self-loathing...I felt it all. I didn't think anything could have been worse then those feelings - but I hadn't seen the destroyed shell of his body then.
With a tug on my arm, Arwen pulled me back into the bed. Her fair voice was laden with fatigue, for she woke when I did, every night in the wee hours of the morning.
"Rest now, Estel. It was naught but a dream. Legolas is fine, he is in Mirkwood with his people. His messenger should soon arrive with good tidings. Now is the time for sleep."
She curled up against me and once again fell into slumber. How I longed to be able to join her, but my mind kept up a steady barrage of questions.
'What if the dream comes back tonight? What if it's not just a dream? What if Legolas really needs help? What if his messenger doesn't return? What if my messenger never got to him? What if he never learns that I am plagued by these dreams? What if he finds me weak for allowing myself to become so distraught over them? What if he's hurt? What if he's dying? What if this is a prophecy of something yet to come?....'
My eyes fall closed as sleep finally comes.
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Legolas' POV
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My eyes are open, but it makes no difference, not anymore. He comes back, he screams into my ear. Pain sears through my body, but I no longer notice.
"Where are they?!?!"
I couldn't respond, even if I wanted too, for my screams had worn my throat, but my heart still sings my answer.
...I'll never tell...
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Aragorn's POV - Next Day
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I can't eat. I can't drink. I can't talk. I can't even move. I can't believe this. I look down at the letter in my hands, rereading it again.
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King Elessar Telecontar
Why do you ask me if my son is well? Is he not with you? He set out for Gondor years ago, informing me that he would stay at least a decade. If he is not in Gondor, where else could he be? I myself haven't heard from him since he left, at least five years ago, if not more.
You say you've been having horrible dreams involving him. Maybe they are trying to tell you something. Mithrandir is also troubled by identical dreams. Listen to them. That is all the advice I can give you.
Please tell me all you know of Legolas' whereabouts.
King Thranduil
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"Aragorn?"
Arwen is concerned for me; she knows not what is in this letter. The soft touch of her hand upon my shoulder brings me out of my daze, but I still cannot speak. I merely hand her the letter to read for herself. After she reads it, she looks at me, questions in her eyes.
"He has not come, and none have heard from him since he left, at least five years ago? Mithrandir has also been troubled by the same dreams? He was supposed to be with us, here, yet is not? Aragorn, what do you think this means?"
I rub my temples, I am starting to get a headache trying to understand all this.
"I know not, Arwen. I know not."
We sit in silence, the only sound being that of the servants, as they work around us. Arwen's voice eventually reaches my ears.
"We must find him, Aragorn. If Mithrandir's dreams are the same as yours, there is chance they are not dreams, but rather some form of message."
I look up. Of course, we should start immediately. Arwen was right, we must find Legolas. I call to the nearest servant.
"Send a message to the stables. Tell them to ready our horses, we leave shortly."
The servant nods and dashes off as Arwen rises to quickly pack. I join her, for neither of us trusts our servants to pack for us when we travel.
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Legolas' POV
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Darkness, all around me. How I despise this endless darkness. No one is near me, I am alone. Will anybody come? Does anyone even know that I am missing? My heart is still singing, for I will not give up.
Not yet.
...I'll never tell...
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Aragorn's POV - A few days later
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Arwen and I are both silent. We found the bodies of three elves today. They were all bound hand and foot, their heads had been cut off, their bodies left to rot; hidden in a cave. We had searched the entire area, but were unable to find the missing heads. All three had been dressed in Mirkwood green and brown. We believe of them was Legolas, he was the same size and build of the young prince. Neither of us can eat anything. Our friend is dead. In my arms I'm cradling a broken bow, the very one given to Legolas by Lady Galadriel so long ago. It was found near the dead elves. Arwen softly strokes twin daggers. Those too were Legolas'.
Our friend is dead.