Legolas POV
When they said you had fallen I could not accept it. But there was no trace of you, and nothing below but the surf-specked river, deep in the ravine. No mortal man could have survived that fall. Why could I not have taken the fall for you? I would gladly have done so. Had I seen you falling, I could have made use of all my affinities with nature. I could have saved you. I could have called a great eagle to catch you, persuaded the razor-sharp rocks to move aside, made the water into a pillow soft as down to catch you. And I would gladly have done any of these - I just didn't know.
I was just coming to terms with the fact that I would never see you handle a sword again, that I would never look at your tangled hair and think 'take a shower, man!'. I knew that I was never now going to see you take your rightful place as King. And it was this that broke my heart - not personal longing. I knew that, even had you lived, there was no way you could have returned my feelings. But to see you as King of Gondor . . . that was what the war of the ring was about for me. Once Frodo got all heroic and decided to go it alone, that was out of my hands and those of all the fellowship for ever. And the battle between good and evil? Well, I knew that if Sauron got the ring, it wouldn't matter how many battles we won or lost. And I also knew, that if Frodo managed to destroy the ring, then everything would be made right. In all the battles I fought with only one purpose - to protect you.
So when I found I had failed in my self-appointed task . . . I was devastated.
To see the tears in Eowyn's eyes . . . and imagine those in Arwen's . . . made me remember just how heterosexual you really were. And how loved, by so many people . . . just as a real King ought to be. The war was lost without you.
No, without you there WAS no war.
And then you were there. Hallucination, I thought, dementia, mirage . . . I was finally going mad.
But it WAS you . . . looking unbearably noble, beaten and bruised, bleeding from your shoulder . . . how I longed to take you aside and practice elvish medicine . . . but there was no time. You spoke of ten thousand orcs, arriving by nightfall. Helm's Deep began to prepare for siege.
In the ensuing preparations, I got time to speak to you only briefly. I wanted more than anything just to take you in my arms and hold you close, away from the threat of any further harm. But I also practised self- restraint, as I have always done. I grasped your shoulder, beaming . . . had you looked, I'm sure you would have seen the relief in my eyes, the renewed purpose, the love. But you didn't.
You never look into my eyes any more.
It makes me paranoid, it makes me think you might know how I feel about you. If you ever did, I would be mortified.
My feelings for you made me reckless in the battle at Helm's Deep. Somehow, miraculously, you managed not to get yourself killed. You were so noble it sometimes verged on suicidal - throwing yourself out into a swarm of Orcs, riding out so courageously with King Theoden. I had to check myself - I was watching you more than I was fighting.
I was not going to let you fall again.
When they said you had fallen I could not accept it. But there was no trace of you, and nothing below but the surf-specked river, deep in the ravine. No mortal man could have survived that fall. Why could I not have taken the fall for you? I would gladly have done so. Had I seen you falling, I could have made use of all my affinities with nature. I could have saved you. I could have called a great eagle to catch you, persuaded the razor-sharp rocks to move aside, made the water into a pillow soft as down to catch you. And I would gladly have done any of these - I just didn't know.
I was just coming to terms with the fact that I would never see you handle a sword again, that I would never look at your tangled hair and think 'take a shower, man!'. I knew that I was never now going to see you take your rightful place as King. And it was this that broke my heart - not personal longing. I knew that, even had you lived, there was no way you could have returned my feelings. But to see you as King of Gondor . . . that was what the war of the ring was about for me. Once Frodo got all heroic and decided to go it alone, that was out of my hands and those of all the fellowship for ever. And the battle between good and evil? Well, I knew that if Sauron got the ring, it wouldn't matter how many battles we won or lost. And I also knew, that if Frodo managed to destroy the ring, then everything would be made right. In all the battles I fought with only one purpose - to protect you.
So when I found I had failed in my self-appointed task . . . I was devastated.
To see the tears in Eowyn's eyes . . . and imagine those in Arwen's . . . made me remember just how heterosexual you really were. And how loved, by so many people . . . just as a real King ought to be. The war was lost without you.
No, without you there WAS no war.
And then you were there. Hallucination, I thought, dementia, mirage . . . I was finally going mad.
But it WAS you . . . looking unbearably noble, beaten and bruised, bleeding from your shoulder . . . how I longed to take you aside and practice elvish medicine . . . but there was no time. You spoke of ten thousand orcs, arriving by nightfall. Helm's Deep began to prepare for siege.
In the ensuing preparations, I got time to speak to you only briefly. I wanted more than anything just to take you in my arms and hold you close, away from the threat of any further harm. But I also practised self- restraint, as I have always done. I grasped your shoulder, beaming . . . had you looked, I'm sure you would have seen the relief in my eyes, the renewed purpose, the love. But you didn't.
You never look into my eyes any more.
It makes me paranoid, it makes me think you might know how I feel about you. If you ever did, I would be mortified.
My feelings for you made me reckless in the battle at Helm's Deep. Somehow, miraculously, you managed not to get yourself killed. You were so noble it sometimes verged on suicidal - throwing yourself out into a swarm of Orcs, riding out so courageously with King Theoden. I had to check myself - I was watching you more than I was fighting.
I was not going to let you fall again.