Disclaimer: I do not own them and no monetary profit is being made from this fanfic.
A/N: Hello everybody, first I just wanted to say that the fanfics written on this site are simply amazing and I look up to all of you for your incredible talent for writing. :) I really enjoy reading them, 'cause the fanfics here are simply wonderful. I found them so inspiring that I wanted to write something on my own, but until now I was just too anxious. So.. ummm.. well, I really should stop talking now..
Well, here's my first fanfic (or drabble in that case),.. please be kind :) Oh, before I forget..I hope you won't strangle me if you find some grammar or spelling mistakes, 'cause unfortunately my native language isn't English, but I really tried my best to find and eliminate them. :)
Speaking without words
The body of every living being is telling a story without words. Everything that is alive and breathing does.
There are no letters written and no syllable leaves a mouth. All you have to do is to keep silent and listen to the tale that is whispered to you.
Legolas witnessed this with his own elven-ears when his eyes refused to accept what was so painfully plain in front of his eyes.
Human flesh whispered to him in dark, starless nights, telling from exhaustion and growing debility.
Aragorns' lungs sung to him whether the man was moving with strain or sleeping in peace, and in every breath he took the elf could hear the weariness. Fear that it would be his last mounted with each time the song was sung and Legolas didn't know anymore if he should hope for another verse or for the finish.
The blood in the human's body, driven by a gentle heart, was pounding in a strange rhythm in his veins while it was travelling through his body. Crimson droplets made a noise like thousands of drums; rushing; delivering essential oxygen to various vital parts in their own song and dance of importance.
Aragorns' heartbeat resounded in his keen elven ears as a mix between bustling moves and sudden pauses, causing his heart to pause in fright too as they were somehow connected with each other.
The once proud, kingly posture of Aragorn Elessar, last of the Numenor, abated as he crouched more and more in defeat with every rising of the sun.
His bones, once strong and seemingly unbreakable, protested against every step and effort, silently threatening to finally break like a twig in the wind. Forgotten was the travelling through lands far away, silenced the song of his sword. Those fingers wouldn't hold a weapon ever again. The times of bravery and strength had come to an end.
Grey eyes that had been sharp and brilliant with kindness were now dull with age. The human closed them very often now to grant them some rest as they tired even faster with each passing hour.
To see his human friend ageing while Legolas stayed young hurt like a bleeding wound deep within. Estel was dying and with him the hope he was so truthfully named after.
But time couldn't be stopped, could it? For an elf a millennium passed by like a mere year, a month like a day, and an hour like a second. Humans hadn't the same endless lifespan like elves and for them death came sooner than an elf could ever imagine.
That was the same reason why Legolas knelt next to the bed on which Elessar was lying on, denying that the human was breathing his last.
It was a cold winter night with snow covering the world outside and the starless sky was crying for what was about to happen soon.
The gust of wind whispered the undeniable truth into slightly pointed ears, but the elf would have none of it as he was lost in the whispers of Aragorns' body alone.
His fingertips travelled along the proud jaw-line, running through the silver cascade of hair that had once been the colour of rich brown when the human in front of him had been still young. He remembered the youth, the vitality the man had emanated at that time, wondering how such things could be taken away that easily.
While he took a shuddering breath the life of his friend was taken away before the elf even had the chance to breath out again, his lips too slow to form his final words of goodbye before the human soul was gone forever.
Blue eyes travelled over the still body of the human, trying to find some evidence of life and suddenly he felt strangely helpless because he didn't know what to do as he didn't find anything.
"Estel..? Are you.. still with me?" he asked then, because he was so desperately hoping against overwhelming odds that this wasn't real, that the whole life cycle of humans wasn't real.
He also didn't know anything else to ask and so he waited, but no answer came as both the mouth and the body of the man refused speak.
Suddenly afraid of the bitter truth, his nimble fingers searched frantically for the thumping of blood at the humans' neck, but the drums had already stopped their rhythm.
He concentrated, desperately tried to listen to the story… and was greeted with silence.
Shock was plainly written on his pale face, his tears-filled eyes speaking of sweet raging dolour as he finally comprehended the realness of this situation; but why was this truth so hard to accept?
He just couldn't understand how death was able to claim a human soul that fast. Although his friend had been living longer than any other human, he had died still too soon.
The time that had been given to them was just too short. It was too short to tell the man that their friendship had been a precious gift, to tell him that he had been proud to live alongside him. (Time also hadn't been enough to confess to him that he was afraid of what he would do after his death)
And slowly as the elf was gazing at the lifeless body in front of him, he became aware that he would never see his friend again, neither in this life nor in the next.
Aragorn Elessar as he had known him was gone, the light of his kind, gentle soul extinguished, leaving only darkness behind. And in the darkness there was nothing to be heard.
The whisper of his body had been silenced forever. Should he stop whispering too?