Disclaimer: Anything recognizable belongs to J.R.R Tolkien (which is, quite frankly, everything). I own only the plot.
A/N: This takes place right after the Battle of the Five Armies since I was not very satisfied with the ending...we all know little Estel is still in Imladris, blissfully unaware of his heritage. So this story is rather a reflection of recent events, complete with some angst and a pinch of darkness.
The smoke was beginning to clear; fading as the sun made its descent from the heavens, and the waning light cast long, distorted shadows upon the ground when it hit the jagged surfaces of the ruins. The only evidence of the chaos that had ensued was the crimson stains and the occasional corpse lying broken among the debris.
Up here, the wind howled fiercely, each gust sending frosty daggers swirling around the rocky outcrop. Yet below, the flats appeared almost serene, the very image of perfection; untouched by the torrents. The sheets of ice mirrored the gray skies...calm and peaceful.
The two sides, connected, yet so contrastingly different.
Had he been mortal, he would most definitely welcome the glacial wind, the ferocious, unrelenting storm. The piercing shards would prove to be a distraction from his inner turmoil, but instead, it only served to whip his hair around.
If right now, he were to compare himself with one thing, it would be the river before him. Frozen in time, beautiful, calm, and seemingly shatterproof. But it was all a mask, he knew, for underneath was a violent current, a tangled mess of confusion, pain, and rage. And eventually...it would break free from its prison.
From the crumbling ledge, Legolas stood, unaffected by the harsh conditions; untouchable, unbreakable. Not daunted by the staggering height, he appeared to be surveying his surroundings as his silver-blue eyes raked over the valley. If one who knew him well peered closely enough, however, they would know that was not the case. To others, he was still the prince: noble, stern, never-faltering.
But the elf knew this was not so, not really. Deep down, something had broken; its shattered remains cutting him like glass whenever he thought of what had occurred. The guilt, the pain, the feeling of betrayal always returned. And he feared it will never go away.
Why does it hurt so much?
It had been uttered with such misery and bitterness.
But had she really known what pain was, what love was? A week was nothing compared to centuries of torture. Her suffering couldn't have been worse than his.
...Right?
The dwarf might have passed on, but is death truly worse than being forbidden from the one you care about and watching them fall for another? To pass them every day and feign ignorance, to push it all away?
No. He didn't think so.
In the end, though, all of that pain could have been worth it. There might have been a time when he would give up the world, but everything changed. In the end… he had nothing.
It could have been worth it.
She never wanted much from him, never asked for something without reason. Yet the only time she had pleaded him, he turned away; the one thing she desired most, he couldn't give.
That was what he hated most of all.
There might have been a time when they would forgive each other, no matter the deed. They always did, eventually. So why is it so hard now?
He remembered, with perfect clarity, their brief discussion before he left. Her strained voice, her eyes glittering with unshed tears. And his own; cold and hard. At that moment, something between them had changed. Times were different now.
Time; an infinite cycle, like the repeated rising and setting of the sun. It was something the Firstborn never dwelt upon, for what did it matter to them? They walked this earth in the beginning, and they will continue and endure until the end. They watch the world change before them, yet they never do. Men will grow old and wither, they stay young for eternity. It was as simple as that.
But what is eternity, Legolas thought, if it does not heal all wounds? To carry the scars forever and be reminded of the past, endlessly reliving the painful memories?
Perhaps that was the reason so many of his kin desired to sail. To leave the past behind, relieved of the burdens they carried so they can once again spread their wings and take flight. To be free from the agonizing chains that were restraining them, confining them in this world. Too much change in too little time; whereas the Undying Lands had less of the former and more of the latter.
Peace and tranquillity; a tempting alternative to the unrest brought by the Sea-longing.
Though he had yet to experience the call, Legolas could sympathize with those that had. Perhaps he was not enduring the same torment as the rest of them, but it was torture nonetheless. Nothing changed a person more than the trials of heartbreak; his father was living proof.
Thranduil was strong. But was he? Legolas simply did not know anymore. Was he resilient like the great trees of his realm, or was he like the ledge he was currently standing on, appearing steady but slowly crumbling? Breaking down under the weight, falling apart, bit by bit, unable to withstand the pressure.
Could he go on?
Could he go back?
His home would only fill him with old pains; how could he stand to see her again and live normally? No, he would rather forget it all. The only way to go was forward, but what would be in store for him? If the path just brought more bitterness and suffering…
Maybe this was his father's punishment for him. Maybe he should have listened.
Legolas closed his eyes as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him, dropping gracelessly into a sitting position and encircling his legs with his arms. It was just too much…
And behind the closed lids, small fragments of memory flashed by, surfacing and disappearing but in an instant.
-:}{:-
"Nana!" The joyful elfling squealed, racing over to where the queen was resting by an oak. "Look at what Ada gave me!" He held up a pair of knives, concealed in their sheaths as his mother looked on in amusement.
Behind him, Thranduil strode up and placed a hand on Legolas' small shoulder. "You must be cautious with those, ion nin. When you are older, you will carry those into battle."
"Yes, my little Greenleaf," His mother agreed, a warm smile curling the edges of her lips, "you will be a formidable warrior, indeed."
Legolas returned the cheeky grin, then turned around and attached himself to Thranduil's leg. Looking up, he exclaimed, "I want to be like you, Ada! I will practice every day, I promise!"
-:}{:-
Nock. Pull back. Breathe in. Sight. Breathe out.
Release.
Thunk.
Dead center.
-:}{:-
"Ada! What happened?" Legolas demanded as he approached the patrol.
Faervel sighed in defeat. "The spiders got him. We were ambushed...but we killed them all." His last sentence was laced with contempt and poison, though Legolas knew it was not directed at him.
"Is he alright?" He asked, distress written on his features as he eyed the retreating group, "I should have gone with you…"
-:}{:-
Something was wrong. The forest no longer felt the same…
Where were the animals? The once lush leaves were now dry and brittle, tainted black. Befallen with shadows, the Great Trees no longer brought light and joy, instead infecting the woods with darkness.
"Mellyn nin?"
His inquiry was only greeted with silence. Nature's Song was muted.
-:}{:-
Nock, draw, release.
Kill.
All completed in a single, fluid motion.
-:}{:-
-and to Legolas' horror, the blade penetrated through flesh and bone, her lithe frame jerking once from the impact before crumpling lifelessly on the ground.
"The queen!"
"Nana!"
-:}{:-
"Adar?" The great oak doors remained shut, and there was no response from within.
-:}{:-
The memories were coming faster now, surging like a wave and breaking the boundaries that contained them, flooding his senses. Haunting whispers filled his head, and for a moment, they were all he knew.
-:}{:-
"...son of Thranduil…"
"...death of the queen…"
"...renowned archer…"
"A shadow has fallen. The trees cry out in pain…"
"Bridhon nin, I bring news from the north…"
"...or nothing at all."
"Are we not part of this world?"
"...time of the elves is over; my kin shall sail to the Havens and only there will we find peace…"
"I cannot go back."
"...Why does it hurt so much?"
-:}{:-
Why does it hurt so much? Wouldn't it be so much easier if you could escape it all...? A little voice whispered, the thought softer than a breeze; and yet, that was all it took to calm the storm. So deceiving it was, Legolas almost let down his guard. If only...he agreed silently, cautiously.
But it is not so, is it? You know the solution is right in front of you...just one step away. One step and all of it would disappear. You would have eternal peace...Is that not what you want?
Yes...He could feel his resolve wearing down, like a stone in a river. And around him, the voices flowed past, slowly, very slowly tearing away at him.
One decision and the pain will be gone, your soul freed! You can reunite with your mother...
A stab of pain shot through him then. Nana. Just the thought of it was tempting and the voice was so persuasive...
Slowly, he uncurled and rose, taking a determined step forward.
Before long, he was at the edge, balanced precariously as he stared emotionlessly at the ground below him. What a shame it would be, to ruin their pureness with blood...
Up here, the wind howled fiercely, each gust sending frosty daggers swirling around the rocky outcrop. Yet below, the flats appeared almost serene, the very image of perfection; untouched by the torrents. The sheets of ice mirrored the gray skies...calm and peaceful.
The skies...They were now colored by the sunset, the last light of the day a remnant of fiery gold that had preceded it. And approaching fast was the ever-present darkness. The chaos ceased; the world paused as if it was waiting for him to make a decision.
All good things must end.