Author's Note: I have recently gone back, with much nostalgia, to the deat clutches of Tolkien's Middle Earth. Meaning I am ignoring my other fandoms, for which I apologise. I will update A Breath Before Bitter Sands very soon. I promise :) Hope you enjoy this as an offering of peace.
Legolas, and Estel and everybody else cool like that belong, not to me, dear readers, but to Tolkien and his estate. Terribly sorry to burst your bubble.
Also this is unbetaed, so all mistakes are mine, and I will do my best to correct any that are pointed out. Thanks again.
Legolas stood, his heart churning as he watched his dear friend struggle to simply draw breath. This was the one who had stood beside him
throughcountless battles, and skirmishes. This was the one who had healed and rescued him whenever one of their adventures had turned out
to be less than safe. He was the one who had listened to cares, and worries of his heart, the griefs that he had felt throughout the long years of
theirfriendship, nay brotherhood. This was his gwador, and there would never be another like him.
His heart rebelled at the sight before him, of Estel, his body withered, and weak, laying on his bed, Brought down, not by sword or poison, but
bythe ravages of mortality, his human blood betraying him at last. Legolas wondered where the years had gone. Time had flown, and for a short
time, it seemed, things had been as they always had been. Then he began to notice things, more and more gray in his beard, more lines by his
eyes, atremble in the once steady hand. At that point, Legolas had tried to still time, to never waste a single precious moment. All in vain, it
seemed. Time still marched onwards.
A/N: *pause* liked it? so-so? hated it? please let me know!
Gwador means a chosen brother, not of the same blood, but of the heart.