Chapter Twenty Five

Legolas stood on the beach, gazing out to sea. Yes, he stood! On his own two feet! Examining himself, the elf found that he had not a trace of sickness or injury left in his body. He was healthy, or maybe he was dead, but what did it matter? He had never felt so good before, or maybe he had just forgotten what it felt like to feel good. The sea was beautiful – rough and wild with a thick fog rolling off it that smelled of pure life, refreshing and rejuvenating. The sea breeze blew Legolas's hair back and left behind crystalline droplets of mist that rolled down his face and made him shiver with excitement. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the pure sea air, half expecting to feel pain, but of course, none came. All space and time seemed to stop just for him as he stood on the beach just breathing…Before, it had been so hard; now, it was the easiest thing in the world. Legolas's eyes suddenly snapped open. Was that a whinny he had just heard? Yes, there it was again, faint and echoing, but he knew that whinny almost as well as he knew his own voice, or his father's. But how? It couldn't be! The elf watched in wonderment and growing joy as one of the foaming wave heads slowly took shape and became the graceful head of a horse, but not just any horse. Nimros slowly took shape and rose up out of the sea, emerging like a spectre from its grave, and then he slowly began to wade gracefully ashore. His coat shone silver, his long mane and tail billowed out and were whipped about by the breeze…or maybe it wasn't the breeze, and his muscles rippled under his skin, yet he looked ghostly, and on his throat, where the arrow had pierced him, was a softly glowing scar. But most extraordinary of all was the long silver horn that sprouted from his forehead. He whickered softly in greeting, and as he reached shore, Legolas realized that he was crying as he watched his horse. Nimros was different, but his eyes were still the same; they still glowed with that deep unconditional love, ever since the day that Legolas had found him, a small colt lost in the depths of Mirkwood. No-one knew where he had came from, and Legolas had taken the little colt in and with the help of the Palace healers and a willing brood-mare, he had raised him into a mighty stallion, wild and fiercely beautiful. They had been inseparable, and even now, in death, Nimros had come back so that they could be together once more.

oXo

Legolas extended his hand as Nimros came closer, but the great silver stallion suddenly stopped, a sad, haunted in his eyes, as if he should not be here, couldn't be here. All of a sudden he looked so fragile, as if the breeze might just blow him away, and as Legolas looked at him harder, the elf gave a gasp of horror, for the horse was rapidly fading into the mist.

"Nimros! No!" Legolas ran towards his horse and threw his arms around the silver stallion's neck before it was too late, but the moment he touched him, Nimros melted into nothing but mist; it was if he had never been. Legolas set off in a dead sprint in the direction it seemed the horse had gone, but there were not even hoofprints in the wet sand. "Take me with you! Nimros!" But it was no use, and Legolas was forced to give up, doubled over and gasping for breath. Nimros was gone, and he was left standing on the deserted shore, utterly heartbroken, calling his friend's name over and over again between sobs and shivering from the sudden cold.

oXo

Aragorn was woken some time in the night by soft sounds. The fire had burnt down to glowing embers, so it must be late. Instantly awake, the Ranger turned to Legolas. Nienor was asleep beside him, but the elf was awake. It was he who had woken Aragorn, and the Ranger felt a stab of pity as he realized that the sounds were muffled sobs. Legolas had pulled the blankets up over his head so he would not be heard. Aragorn quietly eased himself up onto one elbow and gently folded the elf's blankets back.

"Legolas?" The elf jumped. He was curled up and had been awkwardly stroking his horse hair bracelet with his bad hand. Miraculously the little circlet of hair was still on. He didn't answer the Ranger, only sniffed softly.

"What's wrong, mellon nin? Are you all right?" Legolas gave a shaky sob.

"I have to go outside – now!" Something about his voice told Aragorn the elf wanted something other than to go to the bathroom.

"What is it?"

"I just have to go outside!" He had to see if Nimros was out there. That dream had been so real.

"It's craziness, Legolas, unless you really have to, and I don't mean wild fancies. You'll freeze! What's wrong? Here – let me help you sit up." Aragorn helped his friend into and upright position and let the elf lean against him. "Tell me what troubles you," he prompted, "Is it pain? Grief? Both?" Legolas nodded, and then he suddenly went limp against Aragorn's breast and dissolved into quiet sobs.

"It was a dream…" he sniffed, "Nimros was there… We were together, almost… When I tried to touch him, he was gone. Gone in the mist…" What Legolas managed to gasp out between sobs didn't altogether make sense to Aragorn, but the Ranger didn't press it. He was here for support.

"So that's why you wanted to go outside?" he asked quietly. Legolas nodded quietly.

"To see if…To see if maybe he was out there."

"It was just a dream, Legolas. Sometimes dreams can seem very real."

"I know." They sat in silence for a few moments. "Aragorn?"

"Legolas?"

"I wish I was dead."

"Why do you wish that?"

"I just can't go on anymore. In my dream, I called for Nimros to take me with him, but he wouldn't, he wouldn't Aragorn!" Legolas sobbed, "Why?"

"I don't think your time has come, Legolas. You still have a purpose to fulfil in life. I do, too." Legolas was surprised at that.

"You feel it too then?"

"Aye."

"No more dying then?"

"No."

"Feel better now?"

"No, I feel horrible," Legolas sniffed, "Physically. I know I'm being weak, but ---"

"No you're not," Aragorn interrupted, putting a comforting arm around the elf. "Everyone needs to have a good cry every now and then and get their feelings out. It works wonders. Not many could go through what you've gone through and live."

"I'm not out of the woods yet, and anyway, my father could, the twins could, Elenath could… They're strong!"

"Indeed they are. I hope you're not trying to imply that you are not? Because believe me, it takes strength to get this far. Physical and mental, both of which you have. You may be lacking somewhat in physical strength of late, but you can still have the willpower to go on. Just don't lose that."

"You always think I'm coping incredibly well and all that, but you don't know how much I'm hiding from you, Estel!"

"Well why don't you get it out? I'm a good listener."

"You'd tell Árë. Not that I haven't already poured my heart out to you."

"You wouldn't want that?" Aragorn was surprised at the elf's first comment.

"Uh uh… I'd feel stupid if she were to know. I don't mind telling you – it's different with you, somehow…" .:You are a true friend. You accept me for who I am, and stand by me no matter what. Árë is two-faced. She has cheated on me before. She said it would never happen again, but she is going 'cold' again, as if she does not want to be with me. I can never have a heart-to-heart discussion with her. I never know who else is going to hear it. With Aragorn, if I ask him to keep it confidential, it will stay confidential. He is a true friend to me:.

"Oh, all right."

"And Estel, what I just told you was strictly confidential, heniach nin?"

"That goes without saying. What did you want to tell me then?'

"Pain," Legolas whispered, "horrible pain…" He put his good arm around Aragorn's neck and squeezed the Ranger's shoulders. "Nimros."

"Oh," said Aragorn softly, "that kind of pain?" Legolas nodded.

"Physical pain too, like I said, and I feel sick."

"Nauseous?"

"Mmm."

"I'll get you something. Can it wait that long?"

"I think so."

"Okay." Aragorn gently leaned Legolas against the cave wall and got up. "I won't be long. Give me a shout if you need me." He gathered together the things he needed from his pack and padded up to the fire.

"Right." Legolas tried to smile weakly at the Ranger in an effort to cheer himself up somewhat, but gasped in pain as his leg cramped suddenly. He pulled his good leg up and hunched forward, chin on his knee, shivering slightly. Aragorn looked back to check on him, and suddenly felt shocked. The elf looked so fragile, both in mind and body – nothing like the resilient elven warrior he had come to know so well. No, the shadowy figure hunched in the corner of the cave was like nothing that Aragorn had ever seen before, and it scared him to see Legolas like this. The elf was a pale shadow of his former self, so weak and defenceless. It also evoked in him a powerful hate for the creatures that had done this to his friend.

oXo

Aragorn brought the steaming infusion over to Legolas. The elf took it in a rather shaky hand, so Aragorn helped him.

"Careful, it's hot." Legolas nodded and sipped it slowly. He was amazed at the relief it brought, and the elf also felt a wonderful feeling of warmth spreading over his body. He shivered noticeably. Aragorn misread this and fetched another blanket, pulling it round the elf's shoulders and tucking the other blankets round his knees. Legolas was glad of the added warmth though, for he was pretty sure that the tea would not keep him warm for long.

"Better?" Aragorn whispered, "I put something in there to combat pain as well." Legolas nodded.

"Hannon le, Estel. You are a good friend." Aragorn smiled and took the elf's wrist, reading his pulse to check the state of his concussion. It was close to normal, so the effects of the concussion would soon wear off. It had been a mild one thankfully. It was too dark to see the state of the elf's eyes. Legolas stifled a yawn, knowing how badly it would hurt if he gave in.

"Sleep," said Aragorn gently. Legolas shook his head.

"I can't."

"Why is that?" Legolas hesitated, not wishing to complain.

"My stomach hurts."

"How does it hurt?"

"As if someone's gone and tied a knot in it," Legolas groaned. Aragorn sighed sympathetically.

"That's tension, and I don't blame you. Why don't I rub your back for you? It will help."

"Hannon le, Estel." Aragorn got behind Legolas, removed the blankets, and began to rub the elf's back in slow, rhythmic circles, careful to stay well clear of his shoulder.

"Mmm…" Legolas gave a soft sigh, already beginning to feel sleepy. Aragorn kept rubbing, and he was rewarded when Legolas's head nodded and his eyes closed. The Ranger massaged for a while longer, just to make sure that the elf was in a deep sleep, and then he carefully laid him down on his right side, wedging a blanket under his bad leg and tucking him in warmly. The Ranger got up and despite the cold, went for a walk outside to clear his head. Legolas had said much, some of which worried him. Fancy wishing he was dead! Grief was like that though, and hopefully time would heal the scars of the past. When the Ranger came back in and got into his bed, the blankets were cold, but after he tossed and turned a bit in thought they soon warmed up and he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, and the cave was quiet once more. Nienor sighed and curled herself tighter around Legolas, and in his sleep, the elf smiled.

TBC

Well, that was angst, wasn't it? It was different angst. In which no-one got hurt. –Looks at certain readers- Personally, I like it. ;)