A/N: So this took way longer than expected, and turned out 3700 words more than I intended.

Hope you enjoy this shameless painful angst! Whumping Legolas is my favourite hobby.

"Aragorn I- Can we speak?"

Pausing in getting his armour on, Aragorn turned to look at Legolas, who was standing and leaning against a pillar. He had been ready long before, given that he wore little more than his usual clothing. Aragorn wished he could do the same, armour was a hassle to get on, but as agility was not his primary method of combat it was more important for him to be protected from blows.

Aragorn nodded, but glanced out to the courtyard below, where the army was close to finished with assembling.

"We may, though we have little time. It may be that we have to continue this after what might come." He replied. Legolas grimaced.

"I would rather we were able to complete this now. Given the possible outcomes of the attack."

The unspoken meaning was clear. Aragorn picked up on it and frowned.

"Do not let your courage fail you now. There is plenty time for us after. There will be. I have no doubt that we will make it through this."

"Aragorn, as much as I admire your bravery, you cannot walk into this presuming that we will all escape unscathed -"

"I must walk into this in those spirits. For, if I do not, then I would be too worried to let you follow me."

Legolas sighed.

"Then you understand why I would speak to you now, rather than later?"

"I do. And I shall give you that chance. You have as long as it takes for someone to retrieve us." He answered. Legolas's eyes flickered to the window, and he twisted his hands together nervously.

"I would wish to do this properly. If possible. I- I have much to say, and do not wish to speak half now and half later."

"I cannot help you then. We have barely more than a few minutes to spare. Every moment counts."

"I shall hurry then. The desire to tell you before the march far outweighs my will to do so in a more comfortable manner," he said. His voice softened. "Aragorn, I -"

A sharp rap sounded on the door. Aragorn held up his hand, though he had no need to, Legolas had fallen silent already. After a quick conversation with whoever was standing outside, Aragorn did not recognize the voice, and doubted he would know them even if he saw them, he turned back to face Legolas, who had listened to the exchange.

"I am afraid our time has drawn to a close faster than I presumed. Do you wish to continue quickly?"

Legolas shook his head, face lowered. He had melted back into the background, and it seemed to Aragorn that what little conviction he'd had in himself had drained away. And there had not been a notable amount to begin with.

"I cannot. I cannot now."

Aragorn finished fastening his gloves, then walked over to Legolas, putting a hand on his shoulder. Legolas returned the gesture.

"After the march?" Aragorn asked. Legolas nodded, but something about it felt rather unconvincing to Aragorn. The nerves hung heavily between them.

"After the march."

It was some time before they were together again, and even then they were not able to communicate. Legolas had travelled further back in the army, but as the gate had neared he had ridden up to join Aragorn by the front. As both he and Gimli were representative of their respective races, they were required to be there, as much as both disliked the idea. It was mainly out of worry for Aragorn that they had agreed to it. Both knew that, if things turned sour, they would not be able to reach him stationed at the back.

Gimli had opted to ride with Legolas, rather than on his own, and Legolas had to admit that he was glad of the company. It brought him away from his own thoughts, and the failed attempt at talking with Aragorn earlier. So many things he had wanted to say, yet not enough time to say them. He could only hope that Aragorn would survive long enough to hear him.

With the gates now towering above them, high into the clouds, Aragorn signalled for the rest of the soldiers to stay back, bar the few already chosen to follow him. The small company left the larger army, making for the entrance. Legolas stuck as close as he could to the rest of the group, hands ready to reach for his weapon at the slightest sign of aggressive movement.

The negotiations, however, went as smoothly as they could have hoped. That is to say, not smoothly at all. But not an immediate disaster. Or, at least not an immediate disaster until Frodo was brought up.

Legolas could see the sudden change in Aragorn's attitude, the stoic front dropping as the blow drove home. The flicker of fear in his eyes was unmistakable, and Legolas sensed it being picked up by the rest of them. Their hope had been taken from them in an instant.

Breathing shallowly, Legolas's worry began to overtake all other thought. Aragorn had felt a great connection to Frodo, out of all the Hobbits they had had the closest relationship, besides perhaps Boromir and Pippin. He had been fiercely protective of him, ever since the night on Weathertop. When they had been forced to split up Legolas had felt Aragorn's mood lessen steadily each day. And now, when it had finally started to rise as the chances of winning, of Frodo being safe, became more likely, it had once more been taken from them.

They waited for Aragorn to move, all holding their breath. Legolas, when then tension became almost unbearable, reached to his dagger discretely. Yet he did not have time, because Aragorn was a step ahead. With a clean blow he decapitated the Mouth of Sauron, to the others' surprise. Even Legolas, who probably knew him best, did not think to the possibility of Aragorn doing it himself. Perhaps even he had underestimated the love he held for Frodo.

It was inevitable what would happen after that, a solemn trip back to join the others followed by the wait. They dismounted their horses, sending them to the side to protect them as best they could, though not much could be done for them should they fail. Legolas picked up on the unease of the soldiers, most of which would have felt more courage if facing the hoards on horseback. But Aragorn insisted, and they were loath to disagree at such a crucial point.

Most of what happened after became a blur, Legolas could not focus on any one person or thing long enough to form a comprehensible realization of them. Gimli mentioned something about dying, and Legolas threw a comment back at him, but he was not fully concentrating. Instead he tried to calm his nerves, vaguely watching Aragorn step out in front of everyone else, a lone figure on the field. Gripping his weapon tightly, tensed and poised for the word, Legolas waited.

Aragorn turned, facing the rest of them, unashamed of the sadness in his expression, unashamed in a way which had always left Legolas in awe. But now the awe was buried under a mound of terror.

"For Frodo."

The words were barely audible, only heard to those closest to him. To the last remainder of the fellowship. The ones who would know what he meant. And then he moved, immediately followed by everyone who could see him. Legolas, as one of the faster runners, reached the orcs almost first, heading straight into the clash.

If things had been a blur before, they were even more so now. Focusing became harder, Legolas felt himself begin to slip up, falter, far more often than he would usually. Something just did not feel the same as usual. Whether it was because this felt to be a far greater conflict than he had ever faced, or because of his failed attempt at talking with Aragorn earlier, the unsaid things hanging over his head, he could not tell. But it was not helpful, whatever it was.

He alternated between using his bow and his knives, but soon he felt his arrow supply once more begin to dwindle, despite the large amount he'd carried from the city. As he felt the first strains of exertion on his arms, he switched to the blades, knowing that they would at least sustain their usefulness. He hoped.

It was a good few minutes before he had time to look up again, to gain a minute of breath. Glancing over to his friends, he could see that most were in moderate condition, all on there feet, all fighting. He looked around, trying to discern who needed help the most. Gandalf was holding his own successfully, Gimli too, both more than capable to look after themselves. Legolas looked for the Hobbits too, and saw that they were safe too, doing their best to keep the swarm back. They would possibly need help in the future though, so Legolas began to fight his was over there.

As he was slashing his way across the minimal distance, what would usually have taken mere seconds if in a safe place, Legolas managed to take down a fair amount of enemy units. There was one in particular who proved a struggle, dodging his attacks. But finally he managed to get it to collapse, falling on the floor in front of him. Legolas looked up, and was dismayed to see that he had lost sight of the Hobbits as he had fought.

Instead, he caught Aragorn's eye, who was standing a few yards away, hardly visible in the fray. He too had just warded someone off, and had glanced up at the same time as Legolas. Their gazes met, and Legolas tried to demonstrate that he was well, hoping that in return Aragorn would be able to show the same.

Yet, before Legolas saw Aragorn's reply, the man stilled, a shape towering behind him. Legolas cried out a warning, but it was lost into the cacophony of other yells. How Legolas had missed it he did not know, but he had a feeling it had been him letting his emotions cloud his senses again.

Aragorn turned sharply, dodging the first swipe of the troll's sword. He deflected the next, the strain of the weight causing him to stumble backwards. Legolas began to force his way through everyone separating them, praying that he would get there in time. He no longer cared whether it was friend or foe he was pushing aside, his mind was focused on reaching Aragorn, finding some way to help him.

Legolas found himself surrounded again, and Aragorn and the troll passed out of sight as he did his best to keep the blades away from his face, orcs towering over him. When he eventually emerged again, unharmed but frantic in his attempts to find Aragorn, he took a moment to find them. He would have regretted it later, had he got the chance, regretted the way he froze in fear. Had he not, it might have turned out better.

Aragorn was on the floor, disarmed and unable to get up in time. A circle had cleared around the two, formed by the wide stature of the troll. The troll who was now holding a blade high above Aragorn, ready to swing down.

Legolas's heart stopped. Aragorn would have no chance of deflecting it. No way, even with a weapon, he was not strong enough. And there was no time for Legolas to drag him out of the way either, or to attack the troll. To reach it he would have had to already been moving, attacking even. There was no chance of getting at it now.

There was nothing he could do. No feasible course of action.

Or no feasible course of action which would save them both.

There was one path, one thing which was clear. Legolas knew what he would have to do, though he had no time to come to terms with it. The realization was only just settling in his gut when he began to move, the fear driving him to move. If he spent longer debating, then Aragorn would die.

It was a hard choice. But then again, it wasn't, not when he thought about it, thought about it in the few seconds he had. He would gladly do anything for Aragorn, and with goodwill. Now, when he finally had the chance to, he would not let it slip through his fingers. He would not let his chance go in vain. He would not let Aragorn die in favour of himself having life, a long, dragged out life, which would hold little meaning if he did not do his best to help where he could.

He had followed Aragorn to the furthest reaches of the land, and he was not about to throw that commitment away. He had always struggled to understand why one would wish to choose death, but it became clear in that moment. What Aragorn had talked about at Helm's Deep made sense. It was worth dying for some things.

Launching himself in the middle of the incoming blade, he closed his eyes and waited for it to hit his back, for the immediate darkness. But it had been clumsily aimed, and instead of a clean blow the sword fell more flat. Legolas screamed as he felt it shred the tissue on his back, collapsing onto the floor.

Instead of passing out straight away, as he has initially hoped and believed he would, he felt darkness creep out from the corner of his eyes, but the pain dispelled it, and he found himself gritting his teeth, wishing for consciousness to leave him, so that he could escape the overwhelming burning sensation running through his body. He could taste iron in his mouth, he must have bitten his tongue as he fell.

The sounds of the battle had become distant to him, he could no longer hear the yelling, or the clashing of the armies. He could only hear the pounding of his heart, his shallow breaths growing harder and harder to take in. He would have expected to feel second blow, the killing blow, by now, but it did not come, and Legolas felt himself start to pray for it. He did not wish to depart so quickly, but if it meant it would put an end to the suffering he would take it gladly.

It took a minute of waiting in the darkness before he felt some form of noise return to him, shouts and panicked voices. Metal upon metal. Legolas tried to bring his hands to his ears to block it out, now that it was here he felt overwhelmed by it, but his limbs did not respond. Struck by a chill, he shivered, though it had not been cold when they had set out.

He was also aware of raindrops falling lightly on his neck. That also did not feel right. It surely could not rain here, what with Mordor's landscape and stifling climate. Hands tugged at him gently, but to Legolas it felt like knives jabbing at his back. He groaned and pushed them away weakly, but his efforts went unrewarded, and he was pulled into his back. Now that the blackness had cleared slightly, at least for the moment, he was able to see the sky.

More rain fell on his face, and this time Legolas took more notice of it. It could not have been from the sky, it did not add up. But the only alternative was -

A hand clasped his carefully, and Legolas could feel the worn sleeves of Aragorn's clothes peeking out of the edge of his armour. Legolas squeezed the hand in a way of recognition, too drained to move his mouth. But when he saw Aragorn's stricken face, he mustered up as much energy as he could to speak.

"Do not weep for me." He whispered, voice hoarse. Aragorn shook his head and bit his lip, looking up to the sky as he tried to blink away the tears. Legolas attempted to lift his head to look around, wondering why they were not under attack as they rested, unarmed. But Aragorn stopped him, putting his hands on the elf's shoulders, pulling his head onto his lap.

"Save your strength. There is hope for you yet. We must only survive a little longer."

He paused, his breath hitching. "Please. Hang on for a little more, I beg you."

Legolas closed his eyes.

"I do not think there is much time left for me. Do not waste your efforts."

"I must try to save you. I could not forgive myself if I let you go without a struggle."

"Save it. I would rather pass like this then desperately clinging onto my pain."

Aragorn shook his head again, softly placing his hand on Legolas's cheek.

"No. I did not travel all those years with you for you to fall right as we are so close to the end."

Opening his eyes again, Legolas found the light much more distant than before, his head was pounding and he winced.

"You should go. If you are not careful you will be attacked while here."

"I would never leave you. The others are here. I assure you that we will be fine."

Aragorn waited as Legolas took a shuddering breath, his intake of air frighteningly small. "I can heal you. You must only stay awake for a little more."

"Estel you have seen the extent of my injuries. I do not think that even Elrond would be able to heal me now."

"You deny me the permission to try?"

"I do, leaving you in the knowledge that it would cause me more pain for you to try, and that you did not try with my goodwill."

Aragorn brought their intertwined hands up to his forehead.

"Please. Do not leave."

"We have little choice in the matter now. I made my decision when I chose to follow you all those years ago."

The shouts from others were getting quieter once more, Legolas could hear them fading into the background. Things were starting to go blurry, though he still was able to see Aragorn's devastated face in piercing detail. For Aragorn meanwhile, the cries of the battle seemed to grow ever louder, as the protective circle around them grew smaller, the rest of the fellowship driven backwards. Looking up, Aragorn caught Gandalf's eye, and the wizard paused, for only a few seconds.

Aragorn gazed at him desperately. If anyone was able to help, it would be Gandalf. Gandalf could heal Legolas, help him somehow. Or close up the wound long enough for them to get to safety and seek medical help. Though even that seemed like a stretch now, and it always had done. Aragorn doubted that many would walk away from there intact. But he was going to do his best to make sure that Legolas was one of them.

Gandalf studied Legolas quickly, so quickly that Aragorn almost missed his eyes traveling over the wounds. Then he shook his head sorrowfully, turning and continuing to protect them. Aragorn felt the last pieces of hope quickly drain from him, flooding away in watching that small action. If Gandalf had given up even trying to help him, then there was no chance.

Even so, Aragorn refused to let Legolas just bleed out. He let go of Legolas's hand, and began reaching to find something that could help from his belt. Legolas took the hands back however, placing them on his chest.

"I thought I told you not to."

"I want to help you." Aragorn replied.

"You would go as far as to disobey my final wish?" Legolas whispered.

"No." Aragorn returned firmly. "This is not your final wish. You still have so many years. Endless years."

"Is it not strange, how the idea of me outliving you tarnished our relationship, but now it is all you seem to hope for."

"I would rather you lived beyond me then had your life cut so brutally short."

"And I would rather have my life cut short, if it meant you could live yours fully."

"No." Aragorn repeated. "Please. You must stay awake. I cannot live my life fully knowing that you lost yours."

Looking at Legolas now, lying on the floor with his eyes half shut, Aragorn was reminded of a simpler time. Before the battle, before Gondor and the ring, before everything which now dominated his thoughts. Back when they had first met, when they had both slowly grown to trust each other. When he'd first trusted the elf enough not to sleep with a hand on his weapon, when Legolas had taught him to shoot, when he had taught Legolas how to use a sword.

And then watching him fall asleep peacefully in the grass, the light of the sun falling on his face, the way he calmly rested near the shade of the trees. A direct parallel to now, when his face was morphed by pain and he was slowly losing consciousness, his face half hidden under the dark clouds.

Legolas's eyes began to shut again, he could feel the darkness encroaching on his senses once more, and he struggled to keep his gaze on Aragorn.

"You must live your life fully, otherwise my sacrifice will mean nothing. It is better to let my- "

He coughed, jerking to the side. Aragorn helped him, turning him to the side. When he was finally able to draw breath again, he continued. "It is better to let my death have a meaning."

"There is so much more time we are meant to have. Please. Do not leave me now."

"I know you want me to stay, but we don't have a choice," Legolas answered, "I made my choice. I told you that. I made my choice years ago.

"Yes, but you cannot die here. Please."

Legolas laughed shakily, a laugh which soon turned into half choking, half coughing.

"You are repeating yourself Estel. Just accept."

"You know I cannot."

Legolas shut his eyes, blocking out as much of the pain as he could to try to stay conscious a little longer. It was now not death which scared him, but something else entirely. He would not be there for Aragorn in the future, he would not be able to comfort him or to help him through the aftermath. He would not be there to stop the weeping, he would not be there to remind Aragorn of what good things were still left in life. Aragorn would be left to suffer, and Legolas had to trust in the others to not let him drown in the grief.

Yet that was his only regret that he could think of in the moment. Had he possessed more time he could have probably found more, but perhaps it was better that he didn't.

Eternal life had never been appealing, even from the start. Outliving everyone and everything, watching the rise and fall of kingdoms and ages. It felt far too grim, far too horrible. The fear of forgetting people, not being able to recall his adventures as well, his friends and the people he considered family slowly slipping from memory. He had never had a wish to join the elves in the undying lands, not if it meant leaving those he loved behind.

Death had always been welcome, and it had come sooner than hoped, much sooner, but Legolas would not have to deal with the thought of missed years for much longer. Soon he would be oblivious. Only the living would have to deal with the aftermath.

At Legolas's lack of reply, Aragorn began to panic.

"Legolas! Don't close your eyes."

He squeezed his shoulders tightly and Legolas groaned.

"Estel. How do you expect me to rest peacefully if you are constantly annoying me?"

"You may not rest peacefully, not if you're leaving me here." Aragorn said. Legolas looked at him, using the last dredges of his energy.

"I am not leaving you fully. I will live on in you're memories, in your heart. You will still be able to sense me in the trees, when you once more are able to visit the forests where we met. I will always be there for you, even if I cannot be so in physical form." He said, his voice growing weaker as he struggled to continue. "I will live on through you."

He gasped as he finished, eyes drooping shut. Aragorn held his hands, and while his eyes had been darting around warily, in case someone managed to break through their defences and attack them, he now focused fully on Legolas.

"You never told me what you were going to say."

"I do not think it would be best for me to tell you now. I think it would make this more painful than it needs to be. Besides, I think you probably know already."

Legolas's voice was so quiet that Aragorn had to lean in the hear it over the noise. When he leant back again he saw that Legolas's eyes were closed, and his breathing, while present, was hardly clinging on. He clenched his jaw to stop himself crying again, balling one hand into a fist to stop it from reaching to wake Legolas up again. He could not even imagine the pain he was going through, and in the back of his mind he realized that prolonging it would be worse than letting go. He would regret it later.

Instead he leaned forward and touched their foreheads together. Clutching Legolas's hand again, he reached the other and put it on his cheek.

"Namárië Legolas."

'Farewell'

He felt rather than saw Legolas smile. And then he went limp, Aragorn could no longer feel the harsh breathing in his chest. He clutched at him tighter, but received no response. He bit his lip to stop the scream, but the tears still leaked from the corners of his eyes. He spent the next few minutes waiting there, no amount of pleasing from Gandalf could get him to move. He did not even move when it became clear that they had won, as people began to disperse.

Even when the eruption happened, and the well-being of Frodo was unknown. Aragorn could not bring himself to move. In that moment, he did not care who else lived or died. He could not even bring himself to care about his own life anymore. It seemed insignificant to the years Legolas had lost. All because he had not done enough for him.

And, despite what Legolas had thought, Aragorn would never truly be able to know what Legolas had wanted to say.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this pain filled ride. Never written a death before so this was fun.

Have a lovely day/night!