A/N ...I do not have any experience with cancer, in the sense of having to care for a loved one, or see it going on. I can be blamed for inaccuracies concerning leukemia (and I can answer any questions about how this could happen in Middle-Earth in this scenario, PM me), but I just felt like writing this down. I know tenses may be off, but this was a bit of a challenge I think doing that.
Those who are experiencing any form of cancer: keep fighting the fight, and may God bless you and give you divine healing.
This is AU. And this is a sad ending.
Aragorn had his back turned. He wanted to let them know he was nearby, if his help was needed, but also to allow them the privacy needed. This, after all, was something they needed to settle.
He did not eavesdrop. He heard, but did not listen, except for the last part.
"Legolas?" Lhossiel called sadly. She was a healer within Mirkwood: formerly of Lothlórien. She and Legolas were in a long courtship (the elf-prince had always referred to her as his Nimrodel), but did not marry, for with the forest being infested with danger and Legolas always been out in said danger, he would not suffer her to experience that grief of his death were they bound for eternity.
It was silly, that game they played, but it was not funny anymore, as it was a reality.
Aragorn heard nothing in response and he kept his back turned. He heard the elf-maid sigh tiredly and wearily, "I will go and get them. Do not go yet, my dear: you do not have to be alone for this."
He heard the grass shift as the elf-maid stood and she walked past the ranger. Lhossiel stopped though, and looked over her shoulder to the mortal. She said nothing to him, only that look in her eye told him to stay, and then she went on her way again.
Aragorn inhaled slowly before he turned around and kneed his way over to the soft mound Legolas was placed on. He looked sadly at the prince.
Legolas breathed in a rasp and was a limp mass on the makeshift bed, white as if he had never seen the sun before (and he used to be darker skinned…). There was no muscle left to him either: all skin and bones.
Aragorn's eyes trailed down to the source of all this suffering. Legolas' left arm, or better put: the stump of what remains above the elbow.
Six years ago. Legolas invited Aragorn to join his small company of elves as they went on patrol. Aragorn would not have been a useful asset aside from being a healer, as the spiders of Mirkwood were hard to destroy by one who did not know how to fight against one, even if he had received the appropriate training. He accepted the offer.
Now, he wished he did not.
The spiders came suddenly. Aragorn had slow reflexes, even when he was given a warning cry that one of the giant arachnids was heading straight for him. Legolas had pushed him aside, sacrificing himself to be prey to the spider's jaws, and thus to the poison it possessed and the loss of his arm.
Aragorn thought he could still hear the scream and…His spine shivered.
Legolas nearly died from the shock alone, but he lived, healed, and things were normal for about six months. Aragorn should have been gone by then, back to his nomadic journeying, but he had wanted to repay the debt he owed to the prince for saving his life.
Legolas only said, "Stay and help me for a time."
The man did just that.
Aragorn must have not noticed the physical changes that were happening. Legolas never regained his full color, instead he maintained a pallor that made him appear closer in resemblance to his second older brother (except Galadhion was not sick). The elf occasionally complained of pain, and the mortal assumed it was coming from the stump, the phantom pain with it. They dealt with it easily however.
It was during a training session they then knew something was still wrong. Legolas had started out well, perhaps a little slow and uncoordinated, but as it went on he faltered and was struck in the face. It did not continue after that, yet it was a frightful scene when the prince's nose bled like an entire mountain had fallen upon his face.
It scared everyone, Legolas included, and he had enough trauma on his mind at that time too.
"We do not know what could be wrong, my lord." The first healer had said, baffled, "Your past injuries have healed."
Legolas said nothing, shaken from blood loss and the blow, and the memory.
The healer continued the questions.
Weariness, little desire to eat (it showed by the weight loss that had started), and aches all over from time to time.
They had given him more antitoxins, in case they had not completely eradicated the poison from the bite, and other things to provide some relief.
Aragorn asked again what he could do.
The answer was the same: "Stay and help me for a time."
Aragorn did it once more.
Legolas did not become worse, but he did not improve either. He had learned to ignore whatever it was that ailed him and continued doing small things for the realm, but he never went back to training with one hand. It was in depressed silence he had accepted that at that moment in time he could not efficiently get himself back to adequate strength to go on patrols.
Aragorn wondered if his friend knew his fate by then…where he would end up: where they were now.
Spring came and went, and he further degenerated. Still the healers did not know what could have been wrong. The spider and his lost limb was the obvious cause, but what it was doing to him or what was happening to his body was a mystery.
"You will go to Imladris." Thranduil had eventually ordered, even with insight only a parent could possess, he could do nothing to help unravel this mystery, "The faster route is clear enough for travel."
Legolas of course had his fiery spirit still. He did not wish to go, using responsibilities as his defense for staying. But he was outnumbered by everyone, and had given in.
"It will be a new sight for you." Aragorn had tried, "You will be able to see and meet my family at last."
Legolas said nothing.
The trip was mostly uneventful, thank the Higher. It had exhausted the person they were escorting for sure, and when they arrived (Aragorn had received many good welcomes and hugs from his brothers, but when they learned the reasons why he was back, the mood grew somber), Legolas had gone to ground for many days to recover his strength.
Then they met with Elrond.
He had told them the same thing those in Mirkwood did.
"I do not know what could be the issue." Elrond remarked sadly, "I have not encountered this before. Are you sure this is not a poison that needs a stronger antidote?"
Aragorn had to answer, as Legolas had gone mute when the elf-lord told them he did not know what to do, "They tried everything they could think of, father."
Elrond bit the inside of his cheek, quiet, and spoke the only thing he could think of, "I am not sure what else to tell you, my prince. The best option for your own best interest would be-"
"I have not been called." Legolas interrupted, his voice on the bridge of breaking.
"I know your feelings on the matter, little one, and I respect your views, but once more, I do not know how else to help you in terms of a cure."
There was once more tense silence in the air. Legolas stood up at one point and simply left the room. Aragorn stared at his foster-father with confusion.
"How can you not know?" The ranger had questioned.
"There is only so much we can delve into, my son…Even if I did know what ails him, I doubt I could heal him. I cannot offer either of you false hope."
Aragorn thought on these words, and spoke again in a softer voice, "Is this how he will live from now on?"
"If he wills hard enough, perhaps he will overcome this and return to how life used to be, or close to it. Elves are resilient, you know this, and he may be able to live for a long time like this…only if he wants to."
He left then. The ranger found Legolas clinging to Galadhion. Aragorn unintentionally listened.
"I could have lived with just one arm, or anything other than this permanent weakness." Legolas had wept, "I am not leaving you behind. I will not abandon you."
"Try. Live." Galadhion had said.
Legolas pulled himself together and put on a strong face.
Aragorn asked the same question, a week later, when the Mirkwood party was to leave.
The same answer.
The same duty.
Aragorn journeyed back to Mirkwood, which became a second home eventually as the years went by. He became Legolas' informal assistant concerning matters of the realm. Mostly just bringing the prince what he needed for official topics. Legolas had lived with quality. He laughed and smiled. Indeed, he had elven endurance and resilience, and the deterioration was slow and subtle, it was almost like nothing was wrong.
But the strength and will did not last as long as Aragorn had thought it would, hoped it would, as he had learned only two short months ago.
Aragorn had found Legolas sitting in the dark, his ridiculously long black bird-robe donned to create the illusion of health (except it did not cover his face or head; hair now slightly thinned). The elf was listless and black circles were under his dulled eyes.
"I cannot keep doing this." Legolas had whispered.
Aragorn immediately felt his heart sink at these words. Vainly he tried to lighten the mood, "Your begetting day is nigh, my friend. Surely that-"
"Don't." Legolas begged. He was not angry, he was frustrated. Done, "Please do not try and make light of this…I tire of it. It does not help me anymore."
Aragorn remained silent. He pulled up a chair and sat before the elf.
Legolas was looking at the wall, not at him, "…I almost wish you could know how much this takes out of me, what it is doing to my soul…"
"Tell me, then."
"This is no longer physical. Whatever poison that spider had…they must have designed it to be soul consuming. It requires a piece of me every time to stand, to wake up…and I know I do not eat, but I do not care. It requires too much effort…effort that I can no longer give." Legolas lifted shaky a hand, "This thing, this shell…I cannot live in it anymore."
Aragorn's brows furrowed, but he remained silent, knowing better not to interrupt.
Legolas dropped the hand, "…It should be obvious now, I am fading…I made that choice a week ago…it will only speed up this process. I am not long for this world." He finally looked at Aragorn, "Please understand…I could have gone to Valinor long ago, but that is a place I do not know and with people I am unfamiliar with. I never received the call to leave…and I still do not hear it. If it is the Higher's will that I remain here to fulfill whatever duty I had left to do, then I have done what I must. I only pray that I am at peace with the Maker for my past wrongs…and that he will not be disappointed in me for going to sleep so soon, when I should not have to." He looked back to the wall, "I can at least be fair to my family, for staying here…"
The prince drifted off. When Aragorn assumed he would not continue, Aragorn asked… "What do you want me to do, brother?"
"…Stay, to the last moment…Then you can be free from your servitude." Legolas sighed, "…But let me be, for now."
Aragorn nodded, and he left. The next time he saw the prince, it looked like Legolas' soul had already fled to Mandos. He never spoke a word to the ranger again.
Now, Aragorn waited for the last moment to pass. It was close, he could see the signs. His friend showed no distress, or not enough to be concerning. The man dripped some water into the elf's mouth, and when he looked up, he could see the rest of the royal family approaching.
"They are here, mellon." Aragorn whispered, grasping the lax hand and turning his eyes back to the prince. The ranger found himself at a loss for words. In the end, he only said "thank you", lifting the hand to his forehead and over his heart before he let go, and made room for the royals.
He stayed and watched as Thranduil held Legolas in his arms, the queen pressing herself near, and the older princes of Mirkwood also made their presence known by being close. It was a small huddle, and it was painful to see.
Aragorn felt a hand be laid on his shoulder. Lhossiel had come back and she sat with him, also watching.
The ranger stayed, and waited for the moment to pass.
The end came, and Aragorn bowed his head.