The sun shone warmly from the sky and tickled the skin of the man. The smell of spring flowers hung in the air and the white tree of Minas Tirith was in bloom.

Aragorn closed his eyes for a moment and lost himself in his surroundings. Indeed, the garden of the White City seemed to be the only place where the king could relax a little.

Since the war for Middle-earth and against the Darkness was over, the Dunedain's life was full of duties. He was king of Gondor and that demanded his full attention.

At the next thought, the man had to smile. Well, just now there was something else. Arwen, his wife and most beautiful elf of Middle Earth, was expecting their first child together and was heavily pregnant. Another thing that would soon demand his full attention.

With a small sigh, Aragorn lowered himself onto the nearest bench. He was tired and exhausted and had only been king for 2 years. It still seemed unreal to the former ranger that the War of the Ring had been won and that he was now king of a great human kingdom.

Longing spread in the human, when he thought of the carefree time, in which he still moved through the forests and these were his home. For many it was incomprehensible that the king missed this life and preferred a life in the forests instead of in the palace, but these had something reassuring. Here he had had no royal duties and no great responsibility. Or maybe it was because the Dunedain had grown up with elves, who had a great closeness to nature.

A small smile crept onto his lips at the memory of adventures in the woods. Legolas had been involved in them most of the time, and even though many things had gone wrong in their adventures, Aragorn missed them. Well, not just them, but Legolas in general and the whole Fellowship of the Ring. They had all grown close during the great war, and had been separated by their different homes far apart.

The former ranger sighed in frustration and banished the thoughts resolutely. There was no point in reminiscing. He had a kingdom to run.

Determined, the human stood up and was about to make his way to the palace when a voice suddenly rang out. "King Elessar!"

Irritated, the Dunedain turned to see who was calling out to him. One of the servants came running toward him, a letter in his hands.

Patiently, the king waited for the young man to reach him. Aragorn assumed that it was another of the typical letters from their allies, but when he saw the stationery, he frowned thoughtfully. The paper looked very familiar to him, but not as it came from allies.

Immediately, joy spread through the man and he smiled. Lord Elrond! Hastily, the human opened the envelope and pulled out a beautiful sheet of paper.

King Elessar,

I would not write to you unless it was absolutely necessary and I had another choice. I am sure you are busy with your duties as King of Gondor and I do not want to keep you from them. However, it is important to inform you of my concern. Legolas, son of King Thranduil and Prince of Mirkwood, is in Rivendell for treatment of a serious injury. Here he should receive the necessary treatment to get well again, but his injury is too severe to be healed. He will not be among the living much longer and will die from his injury in about a week. I do not ask you to resign your royal duties, but perhaps you would like to be by his side in his last minutes and hours.

Signed

Lord Elrond, Lord of Rivendell

As if stunned, Aragorn stared at the paper in his hands. Again and again his eyes wandered over the words, hoping that he had misunderstood something, that Legolas was well, and that there was some other reason why Lord Elrond was writing to him, but the words always led to the same conclusion.

Shocked and wide-eyed, the king looked up at the messenger who had brought him this letter, but he had already retreated.

Completely overwhelmed, the human stared at the sheet in his trembling hands. Slowly he began to understand what it meant. Legolas would be dead in a few days! The elf with whom the former ranger had gone through so many dangers. The elf who had always been at his side. The elf that Aragorn had never thought could die, as it would tear him apart.

Now there was movement in the man. Without caring about anything, he ran back into the castle. There was no question of what to do now.

Paying no attention to the servants who were walking around the palace and looking at him in confusion, the king rushed into his chamber to get everything together. His hands were still shaking with shock and emotions were swirling inside him. How was this possible? And how the hell had this happened?

The human was jolted out of his thoughts when the door opened and someone asked quietly, unsettled, "What are you doing, Aragorn?" The Dunedain looked up from his activity and directly into the confused face of his wife.

For a moment, guilt spread through him that he hadn't thought to tell her what was going on and where he was going. But his thoughts were only about the letter and about his best friend who was dying in Rivendell.

His heart contracted painfully at the thought. How was he supposed to get through this?

Aragorn rose carefully and tried to appear calm and collected, so as not to make Arwen worry even more. Her beautiful eyes looked at him, waiting and questioning, and the king took a deep breath, hoping his voice sounded reasonably firm before he spoke. "I must leave for Rivendell. Immediately."

Now the beautiful elfess's look became even more confused. Yet the human understood. He probably would have reacted the same way if she had told him, abruptly and without reason, that she had to leave for Rivendell directly.

"Why? What do you want in Rivendell, is there any trouble?" The man ran his hands through his hair in exasperation. He didn't want to worry Arwen, and stress at this stage of her pregnancy wasn't good for the baby at all. But he wanted and needed to be honest with her so she understood the urgency behind it.

"Yes, Legolas is there. He is badly injured and will enter the eternal halls in the next few days. I will be by his side for the last few hours."

These words were agony for Aragorn and everything in him wished so much that it was not true. That it was all just a terrible mistake and that the beautiful prince was fine.

Arwen's eyes grew sad and a shocked expression spread across her face. The two also knew each other very well and had been friends for thousands of years. The beautiful elfess also had to suffer. "Then go. I wish I could go with you, but I can't. Hold his hand until he is in the eternal halls. I will weep for him here and mourn his beautiful soul."

With these words, the queen turned and left the room as quietly as she had come. Aragorn heaved a sigh of despair. How he wished that it was all just a dream and he could spare himself and Arwen this pain, but he could not.

With sadness and pain, the human continued to pack for a journey that would probably be the hardest of his life.

A few days later, Aragorn reached Rivendell. Before, there had always been something comforting and beautiful about coming here, but now it weighed heavily on the king.

It still didn't occur to him that Legolas might be dead in a few hours. Or he already was.

Tears came to the human's eyes at this thought. It hurt so incredibly to imagine that the archer would soon be gone.

The guards at the gate of Rivendell bowed their heads briefly in greeting, but it was obvious from their tense faces that something was wrong here. A lump formed in the throat of the former ranger.

No sooner had he reached the courtyard and dismounted than Elrond came running toward him. Somehow Aragorn had imagined this encounter quite differently. Cheerful and under nicer circumstances.

"I am glad that you could come. He needs you now," the lord greeted him quietly, and the concern and sadness could not be ignored. The pain was getting worse and kept making the human realize that this was not just a nightmare. No, it was reality.

The king only managed to nod. Without exchanging any more words, the older elf walked off, the man silently following him. Only when they were in one of the beautifully decorated corridors did Aragorn dare to speak again. "What happened to him?" One of the many questions he had been asking himself for a long time.

Elrond sighed heavily. "You know that some orcs survived. Legolas encountered them and was badly injured by a sword. We didn't discover him until hours later, and the poison had enough time to take effect. In addition, his wound became infected and led to high fever. We did everything we could, but it's too late to help him."

The human just shook his head in bewilderment. A small part of him had still hoped that perhaps there was still a way to save the beautiful Mirkwood elf, but the words of the Lord of Rivendell destroyed that hope in one fell swoop. Everything the king knew about the art of healing he had learned from Elrond, and when the latter said that there was no hope left...

The former ranger did not manage to finish the thought. He felt that these words had torn something inside him and he did not know what to do about this terrible pain in his heart.

Finally, the lord stopped in front of a beautifully decorated door and indicated with a motion of his hand that the man should go inside.

But Aragorn had no idea whether he would be able to do so. Whether he could bear the image of his dying, actually immortal, best friend.

And that thought ensured that anger was now added to the pain, grief and despair. None of this was fair. Legolas was such a pure and innocent being that still had an eternal life ahead of him. And now it was all going to end like this.

The former ranger swallowed the rising tears. No, he would have enough time to mourn later. The prince needed him now, and the king wanted to be strong for him. It was the least he could do.

With a deep breath and trembling hands, the man opened the door and entered the room. The image that awaited him behind it made his heart contract in agony and it became harder to hold back the tears.

The whole Fellowship was gathered here. Gimli stood in a corner of the room, leaning heavily on his axe, his eyes fixed on the bed. Everything in his face spoke of immense sorrow. Aragorn understood. No one would have thought it at the beginning of their journey, but by now Gimli had long since taken the cheerful elf to his heart.

Gandalf sat on a chair against the wall and smoked his pipe. But he seemed to have aged by years. An exhaustion, which the king had never seen before in the wizard, was in his face. But given the situation, no one could blame him.

The white wizard had known the prince since he had taken his first steps and had experienced much with him. Legolas would blindly trust him with his life, just as he had always done with the human. The thought caused further pain and the man tried not to think about it any further.

The four little hobbits sat on the bed. While Pippin and Merry held each other in their arms, eyes closed and sadness on their faces, Frodo held the archer's hand, his face contorted with grief and pain. Tears ran silently down Sam's cheeks. To the Hobbits, it seemed completely unreal that this should be real. That something so terrible could happen just like that.

But the sight of the warrior himself tore at the human's heart. There was not much left of the Legolas with whom Aragorn had shared so many beautiful moments, whom he trusted blindly and who had been an integral and important part of his life.

The bright blue eyes of the Mirkwood elf were closed, his face pale. The natural light that always surrounded him was dim and almost extinguished.

The king's steps were heavy as he cautiously approached his friend. His heart beat fast in his chest as he sat down beside the prince and reached for his cold hand. The cold shocked the human for a moment. He had not expected it.

For a moment, the former Ranger doubted that the archer would even open his eyes, but suddenly two tired, blue and familiar eyes looked at him.

Aragorn ignored the thought that soon he would not see them again and forced himself to smile a little. "Hello, mellon-nin."

The blond elf smiled wearily as well, and that smile alone broke the man's heart once again. All of this was so unfair. Legolas was so incredibly good and innocent and did not deserve something so terrible. "Estel... You are here." The prince's voice was no more than a soft whisper, but the king understood it nonetheless.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and clutched the warrior's hand tighter. "Of course I'm here. I won't leave you alone. You should know that by now," the former ranger explained in a broken voice. By Valar, why did it hurt so much?

The archer smiled a bit wider. "I know. And I'm sorry that I'm going to leave you alone now."

Now the human didn't care at all and gave up fighting the tears. Even dying, the blond elf was still apologizing for things he couldn't help. "No, mellon-nin. Stop that. That's not your fault. It's no one's fault."

The pain and grief were getting worse and Aragorn didn't have the slightest idea how to deal with it. How was he supposed to live with it and get through it? "Tell me, Legolas, how am I to live without you? For I do not know."

The prince squeezed the man's hand tighter, hope and confidence reflected in his blue eyes. "Don't be afraid, Estel. I promise you that we will meet again."

Now nothing mattered to the former ranger and he gently pulled his friend into his arms. It hurt so much. It hurt so incredibly to let him go now. But there was nothing they could do about it.

Legolas was now leaning against his chest, his head resting on the human's shoulder. The slender body in his arms trembled in agony, showing the king how close the archer was to death. "Stay with me. Please stay with me. I need you," Aragorn pleaded softly. The desperation within him was overwhelming. He knew himself that it was selfish, but he had no idea how to go on without the handsome prince.

"I wish I could, but I can't. Will you stay here?" whispered the voice next to his ear and immediately the man nodded. He would do anything the beautiful warrior asked him to do.

"Of course. I'm not going anywhere." Where should he go? Everything he needed was here and just dying in his arms. The king heard quiet sobbing and assumed it was coming from one of the hobbits, but he didn't look up.

"Hannon-le. For everything." The voice of the Mirkwood elf was no more than a breath, and everything in Aragorn cried out as he realized what was about to happen. "Not for this. I hope to see you again soon. I will miss you very much, Legolas."

A small smile formed on the elf's lips. "I'll miss you, too. Take care of yourself and don't do anything stupid. Until we meet again in the eternal halls."

And with those words, they fell silent. The human had no idea how much time passed, whether it was mere minutes or hours, but eventually the body in his arms went limp and the soft breathing in his ear died away.

The king closed his eyes at the feelings flooding into him. It was too much, it was tearing him apart. His best friend and closest confidant was dead. Legolas had passed from this world and would not return to them.

Tears ran silently down his cheeks and he clutched the blond elf tighter, as if he could bring him back to himself that way. But of course the human knew that it was hopeless. It was too late.

After some time, Aragorn could finally bring himself to discard the body of his best friend. With tears in his eyes, he looked into the pale and still beautiful face. The familiar blue eyes that had always radiated tremendous love were closed. His gentle and tender features showed relaxation and his lips were twisted by a small smile. It seemed that the prince had fallen asleep peacefully.

For the human, the whole situation was completely unreal. He and Legolas had often talked about death. They were warriors, death had accompanied them all their lives. But they had to talk about it because the man was mortal. Legolas had been prepared for the former Ranger's death, but the reverse was not true.

Aragorn had not thought that it would ever come to this. That his best friend, closest confidant and faithful companion would go like this. That he would leave him.

Carefully, the king reached out a hand and stroked the white cheek of the archer. He knew that this pain would never completely go away. That some of the pain and sorrow would always remain. But something in the man told him that in time he would learn to deal with this indescribable loss. And that he would see the beautiful warrior again. Someday in another realm.

At this thought, a small smile crept onto his lips. A part of the blond elf would always be here. For the memory kept him alive. And one day they would meet again.

But there was still time until that day. "Namarie, Meltha Mellon. Guren nallatha nalú achenin le. Hodo vae." (Farewell, beloved friend. My heart will weep until I see you again. Rest in peace.)