Forever trusting
By Athelas
Summary: What it is like when you lose the firm ground you stand on and do not know anymore how to go on. Aragorn discovers a wholly unsuspected side of Legolas. A friendship-fic.
Disclaimer: They are not mine, unfortunately.
Genre: Drama (Non-Slash)
Complete
Feedback: Leave a review or write a mail! athelassa@hotmail.com
A/N: First I want to say that English is not my first language. I am learning it for about five years now and it is far from being perfect. It is also my first fic in English, so please be kind to me! =)
This story already exists in German so for all the German-speakers here, you can also read it in your mother tongue. =) Actually I decided to translate it because I thought it to be a good exercise to practise my English. I hope there are not too many mistakes in it.
To the story: This is for my best friend Mirjam. She has a very hard time at the moment and I wish her the best for the future. And for everyone else who thinks he/she is alone with their problems. I think there are always people who will look after you when you are feeling bad.
The lyrics are from a very beautiful German song. It is always difficult to translate lyrics but because I really like them I tried to translate them as well.
Forever trusting
˜˜I would like to be
A big, green, strong tree,
A mountain, a rock in a raising storm,
Warm, safe sanctuary,
The strong, firm shoulder,
Keeper of refuge,
Support, safety,
Forever trusting. ˜˜
Schandmaul - Sonnenstrahl
The sun was up early this morning and greeted the crown of the trees of Mirkwood.
A sun ray got lost in one of the many chambers of the palace and danced merrily on the face of the sleeping young man. Feeling the warmth of the new day on his face, he stirred and slowly opened his eyes. He sat in bed and rubbed his eyes sleepily before he got up and stretched. A soft moan escaped his lips as cramped muscles protested. At the same time a pounding between his eyes announced the beginning of a headache.
'Ugh, the last mug of mead has been too much!' Aragorn thought and massaged his forehead with one hand.
Nevertheless, the huge festivities last evening had been unique. Legolas, whom he knew since his early childhood, had invited him to Mirkwood to celebrate the beginning of spring. Aragorn was not used to such extensive parties from his childhood in Rivendell and had been more than willing to accept the invitation. He was far from regretting it.
Even Legolas – the ever-tense – had for once been in high spirits despite being in a big crowd, which he normally did not like at all. Aragorn had never seen this exuberance in his friend and he had spent most of the time laughing very hard. Especially when the mead had flown more freely at the end of the party.
'Hopefully I haven't done or said anything to Legolas' embarrassment,' Aragorn thought fervently for he failed to remember what he had said last.
With a grin on his face he got dressed and then opened the door to step out on the corridor. The palace was quiet yet which confirmed his thought that he had not been the only one indulging himself with the pleasantries of a long party.
Aragorn left the guest wing and made his way to the lodgings of his friend. The guards already knew him and let him pass with very wide smirks.
'Oh no, I have done something stupid!' Aragorn thought contritely and hurried to pass by the guards.
He halted in front of Legolas' door and knocked. No one answered. When he lifted his hand to knock a second time a graceful elf came to stand beside him. Aragorn turned around and recognised Finduilas, Legolas' younger sister. Like her brother she was tall and her face very fair, even for one of the Eldar, and framed by long golden hair.
Aragorn bowed to her.
"Mae govannen, Finduilas. Do you know where Legolas is? He does not seem to be in his room."
Finduilas shook her head and run a hand over her eyes. Only now Aragorn noticed her reddened eyes as if she had been crying recently. He felt concern for his friend well up in him.
"What happened?"
Finduilas forced a smile to her lips which did not reach her eyes.
"No, nothing happened. It is something else that bothers me, a family affair. And to your question to Legolas' remain: He left his room early this morning. One of the guards told me he took Caranthir out for a ride."
Thanking her for the information he went down to the stables. He would find Legolas. This "family affair" had something to do with his friend's disappearance and Aragorn had the feeling that Legolas would need him.
Short time later the Ranger saddled Romor, his faithful stallion from Rivendell, and left the palace on his own.
Silently he rode, bent over the neck of his horse to look for traces. It was difficult to make out anything for the Elven horses left only faint marks on the forest ground. Nonetheless he soon found what he had been looking for: a swampy place near a rivulet and clear signs of hooves on it.
'It must have been Legolas, these tracks are quite new, probably not older than an hour.'
Now that he had picked up the tracks he rode faster. Every now and then he found the marks of light hooves and they led him to a small hill. On the rise, there was a clearing and Aragorn could soon distinguish a red horse between thorny bushes. The red stallion lifted his head to observe the newcomers. Catching the scent of Romor he snorted contently and started grazing again.
Aragorn dismounted and looked around. An ancient gnarled oak was at his right-hand side giving the one sitting in its crown a wide view over a good part of Mirkwood.
Aragorn had no doubt about whether he had found Legolas' hiding place. Slowly he approached the tree. A sudden motion in the branches made the Ranger start but he immediately calmed down as he saw Legolas' familiar face in front of him.
"Aragorn! What are you doing here?"
In Aragorn's ears, his friend's voice sounded surprised, almost hostile. The Ranger frowned und intently looked at Legolas. He seemed uneasy, his gaze darting around, as if he could not bring himself to meet Aragorn's eyes. He also seemed to hide his right hand on purpose from his friend's gaze. But it was something different that finally made Aragorn open his mouth.
"You are bleeding! What…? Why is there blood on your sleeve? Have you been attacked?"
Legolas only shook his head and drew back one step.
"It… is nothing. Really. It is not important. Please, go back to the palace and leave me be."
Disbelief and a trace of suspicion mingled with the apparent concern in Aragorn. Why did his friend behave so strangely? He took a step in Legolas's direction to examine his friend's arm, but his friend shook his head and stepped back abruptly. For a short moment Aragorn was able to catch a glimpse of the object Legolas was holding in his other hand. A knife. An elvish blade the prince had received as a birthday gift from his father. Aragorn had been present when his friend had got it.
A knife.
Aragorn felt suddenly empty and a seemingly icy hand groped for his stomach. He blinked and slowly shook his head. It could not be. Not his friend. What did Legolas want to do with the blade? He needed to know.
Without a warning he grabbed for Legolas' left forearm and pulled back the sleeve with a quick motion.
Knife cuts covered the soft flesh in a clean order. Some of the cuts were old, already fading, while the red and fresh ones immediately caught his eye. An extremely deep cut run the underside of the wrist. A little more pressure on the blade and Legolas would now lie in a puddle of his own blood.
Aragorn stared blankly at the arm in front of him. Time stood still. An eternity seemed to pass by before the Ranger lifted his head to look at his friend. Legolas sat still, leaning at the trunk of the old oak and kept silent.
"Legolas? What does this mean? Please, tell me!"
The Elf closed his eyes and his shoulders hang tiredly.
"It…," Legolas' voice failed and he tried again gesturing at his cut forearm. "It makes me think of something else. I cannot bear what is happening with my family at the moment. Everything seems to shatter and break, like a vase you are dropping on a cold stone floor. It is my mother, Nerdanel, … she is… fading. To be honest, she has been ill for a long time. But not like this…"
Legolas' voice trailed off and his breathing hitched in his throat.
Aragorn urged him softly, "Please, tell me from the beginning."
The Elf remained silent for a moment before he began.
"Nerdanel was attacked by Orcs three centuries ago. She never recovered from it, living in fear and pain. We tried to help her, my father, my sister and I. But to no avail. Sometimes it seems that she has already left. She was such a happy and cheerful mother, but what is left of her is only a shadow. The worst of it is that my father seems to lose his patience with her. He is helpless himself, knowing that he can do nothing to make her feel better, so he blames everything on me. The attack and everything… I was with her when she has been attacked, but I could not save her! I could not save my own mother…"
His voice sank to a whisper and he buried his head in his arms, shoulders shaking.
"There is no cure for what ails her. She only wishes to leave these shores and to sail over the sea. Everyday when I enter her chamber I fear that she has already left. There is nothing I can do."
Legolas fell silent and a tiny tear rolled over his cheek on his garments. Aragorn sat beside him feeling utterly helpless. The silence of the woods embraced them and was the only thing comforting. After a time, the Ranger sighed sadly.
"Still, that is no reason to cut yourself. It is bad, you are only hurting yourself!"
Legolas smiled bitterly.
"That is why I do it, to hurt myself. This pain here on my arm is easy to bear, whilst the other is… more difficult to deal with. I cannot live with the thought of my mother leaving these shores. She has always been around me, as long as I can remember. Yesterday, everything seemed perfect, you were here and everyone was happy. But after I returned to my chamber my father waited there for me with the message that my mother was faring worse again. And I cannot do anything. Except sitting here and cut myself."
Aragorn sat still, mind blank. Somewhere deep inside him swirled emotions one could never guess looking at his calm exterior. Why had he never noticed something? He knew Legolas for a very long time but he had never even thought of Legolas cutting himself. Of course he had heard of people who did this but never his best friend!
Now that he knew he could remember a few times he had seen the cuts and scars. But he had never wasted a thought about their origin. He had just let his friend do this to himself. Why had he let him? Why had he just overseen that something was not alright with Legolas? Was he so selfish as to not even notice his friend suffer?
Questions and feelings of guilt demanded for attention at once. The inner turmoil was finally too much for Aragorn and he choked, "And I have never noticed! Legolas, how can you forgive me? I call myself a friend of yours but a friend is always there for the other when he is in need. And where was I? Probably sitting comfortably in my room and thinking of the next hunting trip!"
Legolas looked up, shocked, when he saw the tears on Aragorn's face.
"That was not your fault, none of it! You were always there for me but I have never asked for your help. Nothing is your fault, do you hear me?"
The Ranger just shook his head and whispered brokenly, "What have I done?"
Finally Legolas stood to his feet and caught Aragorn firmly by the hands.
"It was not your fault. You have always been a good friend, the best I have ever had. I do not want to feel guilty because of you, too!"
Aragorn sniffed and nodded weakly. Again there was a long silence before he spoke again.
"Please, I beg you, stop cutting yourself. It does not help you solve your problems."
"I do not know if I can stop it that easily," Legolas answered quietly. "It is like someone urges me to do it. If everything else proves too much there is always the cold steel waiting for me in my room. It is comforting."
"I know someone who can comfort you better than the steel ever could: Me!"
Legolas smiled for the first time and fondly gazed at the distressed Ranger. It was not enough to calm Aragorn down.
"I am here for you, Legolas. You can come to me every time you like, you should know that by now! You can talk to me or if you really need to feel pain we can go outside and have a fight, but please do not do it again. The sight of your bloody arm pains me, I will not be able to bear it.
A small sigh escaped Legolas' lips. Slowly he looked up, directly in the silvery eyes of his friend and finally pulled him in a firm hug.
"I thank you, mellon nîn," whispered the Elf. "I was a fool that I did not trust you from the beginning. You had understood. You always understand. I do not know why I hesitated. But please, do know that I will tell you when I need your help. And at the same time I order you to come to me when you need my help. Agreed?"
"Agreed," came the small and through Legolas' clothes a bit muffled answer. The Elf smiled and let the knife slip from his fingers.
** Z Ändi **
˜˜ I would follow you then,
Always lighten your way.
Drive away all the shadows,
Even out every hindrance,
And when everything is grey,
In your lake of soul,
I would be the only blot of colour,
Glimmer of Hope only for you. ˜˜
Schandmaul – "Sonnenstrahl"