Under the Morning Moon
Chapter Ten: Fly
***
A/N: Wow. Phew. I was nervous about that last chapter; it has a more graphic death than I'm used to writing, and definitely a little higher than PG-13. But, at least up until I write this, there haven't been any complaints about it.Again, phew. Thanks for being so acceptant of my style =^^= However, I'm slightly concerned about something: none of you have reviewed saying what I should write as my next story! I'll probably put up poll with all your ideas to be voted on.
Also-if any of you want a Beta, I'm thinking about doing that. =^^= Contact me! Kentucky_fried_camels@Hotmail.com
The song featured in this chapter is 'You Can Still Be Free' by Savage Garden.
Also, this chapter's dedicated to Bobo-for all the emotional help she's given me while I've written this.and, of course, comic relief *GG* =^^= Thanks!! *huggles*
This is the last chapter in this particular story.Actually the fact that this is the last chapter came as rather a surprise to me. I suppose I could have elaborated greatly on some of the minor relationships of this story- but instead I found an opportunity to tie up most of the lose ends. And so I did.
REMEMBER: FRIEEEENNNDDDSSHIIPPPPP not Slash XD ***
~Cool breeze and autumn leaves
Slow motion daylight
A lone pair of watchful eyes
Oversee the living~
Aragorn was hunched, dressed only in the gray robes that his healer had clad him in, on the bedside chesterfield in Legolas' chambers. The elf lay on his back, hands folded neatly over his bare chest. A more neatly woven one, replaced hourly, had replaced the makeshift bandage Aragorn had fashioned out of his tunic. The steady flow of blood from the wound was slowly staunching-but the elf remained unconscious.
Aragorn had awoken fourteen hours after he had fallen unconscious on the steps of his kingdom, and had immediately been carted away-along with Legolas-to the Healer's ward. Norobr'ah, a willowy old man, was awoken at nearly midnight to tend to the King and his advisor.
The King had gotten off fairly easy; he had only collapsed from exhaustion and stress, and a deep dreamless sleep that lasted through most of the morning granted him complete recovery. However, when he awoke, he had to be restrained by a very grim-eyed Faramir as he tried to run into Legolas' room, to see his friend.
~Feel the presence all around
A tortured soul
A wound unhealing
NO regrets or promises~
Legolas was having troubles healing, Faramir had told him gravely. It was doubtful he would last through the morning. The cut still bled as relentlessly as it had when it was fresh. Even a mortal's cut would have begun to clot, reacting to the herbs and the salves that were so tirelessly applied. But Legolas' spirit had somehow been dampened in his prison, and his elvish will to live was slipping fast out of Aragorn's grip.
For hours, Faramir spoke softly to Aragorn as he lay uselessly in the bright-white linens laid out by the Healer. When, at last, Aragorn could argue comfortably he had enough strength to walk to Legolas' room, Faramir granted him leave.
Legolas looked horrible. His body was ashen, his abdomen sunken so badly that each of his ribs poked clearly through the skin. A horrid gray-green tinge dappled in ugly splotches over Legolas' face and neck, and the area around the then-uncovered wound was stained a wretched green. Legolas shook as if being rocked continually by invisible hands, seizing up, arching his back and whimpering before falling back onto the mattress, still quivering. His entire body glistened with sweat.
~The past is gone
But you can still be free
If time will set you free~
Alone in the room, Aragorn dropped to his knees in horror and had to hold himself back from retching. His world dropped from beneath his knees, and he could feel his stomach rise to his mouth. Eyes clamped shut, Aragorn cradled his face in his hands, unable to look at the seemingly feverish elf in his near-death state on the bed he had slept so harmoniously not a month before.
"Oh my god," Arwen's voice came. Aragorn knew what his wife's expression would be; twisted, face pale, crimson lips drawn in to her mouth in horror. He felt the ripple of air beside him as his wife as well sunk to her knees, throwing her arms about her husbands shoulders. Like a babe, Aragorn fell into her arms, and wept into her shoulder as she tenderly rocked him.
Legolas had begun to recover sometime after Aragorn had fallen asleep. His temperature went down, and some colour began to return to his form. The speckles of discolouration that shrouded his perfection in an orcish unpleasantly faded, replaced by a still-fevered blush. The wound began to heal over itself, and the old healer knew that at last the elf was reacting to the many medicines that had been forced upon his system.
~Time now to spread your wings
To take to flight
The life endeavor
Aim for the burning sun~
Now, it was the sixth night past midnight that Aragorn had sat beside Legolas' bed. Arwen had long ago left to tend to her children, but Aragorn remained hunched at Legolas' bedside. His body shook only when he exhaled, now, and his breathing was rhythmic, in time to the steady rise and fall of his chest. His complexion was normal, his eyes no longer dancing in their sleep but instead staring sightlessly at the canopy of his comfortable bed.
Aragorn edged closer, laying a palm as he had many times on the Elf's cheek. It was cold to the touch, but the organic almost-winter cold that characterized their culture. It was not unhealthy, but ordinary. Legolas shivered slightly against the touch, before leaning unconsciously in to it. Even while his spirit wandered the realms of Elf-Dream, he could recognize friend from foe in such a simple gesture as a brotherly touch to the cheek.
~You're trapped inside
But you can still be free
If time will set you free
But it's a long long way to go~
Without warning, the elf's far arm lifted in the air, crossing across it's chest. Aragorn was startled, but knew immediately what to do. He reached out, clasping the elf's hand in mid-air above the pale, quivering chest of his closest friend. Legolas eyes were clear, reflecting Aragorn's haggard face in the clear, obsidian pupils.
"Aragorn," said Legolas. His voice was quiet, but not weak. All of the former princely valor and the infinite years of love and kindness that surrounded the elf's very being were still laced into the three syllables he uttered. Aragorn beamed at his friend, the hand that cupped the Elf's cheek dropping away. He squeezed the imprisoned hand of the blonde-which shook.
"Legolas," replied the man. His voice, unlike the Elf's, was considerably less composed. He had not spoken for nearly a week, and at that moment he was nearly overcome with emotion-brotherly love, absolute pride and the desire to embrace the weakened Elf he observed.
~Keep moving way up high
You see the light
It shines forever
Sail through the crimson skies
The purest light
The light that sets you free
If time will set you free~
"I'm so sorry," spluttered the elf, suddenly flustered. He twisted in the bed, just slightly, and blinked his gaze away from the stormy eyes of the man. "I.I tried to escape-I should have been stronger.I put you in danger, again.Faramir told me that you were in the Hospital Ward while I was unconscious-I still heard, I still heard.Ai." "NO!" said Aragorn fiercely. He slid his hand under the Elf's jaw, cupping the elf's chin and forcing his friend to look up at him. "No," he repeated more tenderly, shaking his head. "Legolas, 'tis my fault. You almost died, because I didn't get there in time. If I had only come sooner, perhaps your spirit would not have." Aragorn grappled for the words, visibly weakening. "Perhaps he would not have."
Legolas shook his head vehemently, struggling to sit up. He looked at Aragorn mournfully, his eyes tossed with bittersweet emotions of remembrance, but also of the complete and utter safety he felt with the King of Men at his side. "No, Aragorn.He did naught of the sort," Legolas breathed. The voice he had fought to keep emotionless finally broke. He closed his eyes, holding back tears. "You saved me twice, Aragorn.twice from."
It was Aragorn's turn to shake his head. He closed his eyes, savoring the moment of absolute serenity, of intense peace. When he lifted his lids, Legolas had quirked his head in concern. "I.I could have been stronger.My spirit.I was greedy.I just wanted to die, so badly, so badly.But there's your children, there's you and Arwen.I'm greedy."
Aragorn fought back the sudden urge to shake or throttle the elf. "No! No! Legolas, no. You came back. You're strong, stronger than me, than anybody.I'd have died, I know it.but you didn't, you came back." Legolas nodded vaguely, tears for a moment capturing his eyes in shimmering sadness. Before Aragorn could react the elf had skillfully regained his repressed stature, tears evaporated.
For several heartbeats too long and meaningful to measure, the two sat with their eyes averted, Aragorn's hand still clasped around Legolas'. What would he do without his elf, his dearest friend for nearly ten years, and the only being that was closer to Eldarion than he himself? He had lost Legolas for years after the War of the Ring while he scoured Middle Earth with Gimli. But that had never been a permanent separation. But this time, this time Legolas had hovered inches from the Halls of Mandos, inches away from leaving Aragorn, alone, behind, forgotten, forever.
~Sail through the wind and rain tonight
You're free to fly tonight
And you can still be free
If time will set you free~
"You're my best friend, Legolas," Aragorn announced suddenly. His voice cracked through the silence surprisingly loud, and Aragorn suddenly felt ashamed of his own words. He sounded so childish, and felt as though he was burdening the elf with his affections when all the Elf needed was to be rid of his own, darker ones. Yet Aragorn surprised himself by continuing, dropping Legolas' hand as he did to draw his hand over his haggard cheek. "I don't know.If you'd died, what I'd have done."
"Aragorn, mellonamin," Legolas said fiercely, drawing himself on to his knees. He lay his hands around Aragorn's face, holding it stiffly in place before Legolas eyes. Aragorn twisted uncomfortably in the chair, enraptured completely by the intensity of the sapphire that met his eyes. Legolas' of a diamond, cutting through Aragorn, and also of wicked flame and soft rain in the springtime. They were resolute and modest, and yet they were rambunctious and effervescent, everything beautiful and ugly in the world somehow exploding at once through such a small vessel as the eyes. Aragorn couldn't look away. "I promise you this; until you die I will never leave this Middle Earth."
Aragorn stared back in shock, then forced himself to look away. Tears filled his eyes, as if he had been staring in to a very bright light. "You cannot make such a promise," Aragorn whispered intensely. Legolas' hands coiled away, and lay on the bed. "I know how you crave to pass over the sea with your family, and with the rest of your Sindar kin."
~And going higher than mountain tops
And go high the wind won't stop
And go high.
Feel free to fly tonight.~
"I admit," Legolas, replied with a twisted smile, "I crave passing the sea so very much that my dreams are consumed by its presence. My very essence, at times, seems to be so captured by the mental pictures of the waves, of ships that will deliver me." The elf then shook his head.
"At times," Aragorn repeated dully.
"I have a family here, Aragorn. I have as close to a son, and a daughter, as I'll every have in my life. And that's more important to me than any ship or sea or undying land that has ever existed. No, Aragorn. I will wait." Legolas smiled softly.
And so he did.
~*~
Legolas stood on the deck of his ship, hand clutching to the rail until his knuckles were stained with white. The sea stained his nostrils with the marvelous, painful sting of salt picked at his nose. He flared his nostrils distastefully, but still craned his neck forward to take more of the blasts from the sea below head on.
The vessel he had created was beautiful. He had painstakingly carved it out of fine woods, and painted it with a charcoal-stained paint to make it a fair silver. It was completely waterproof, and large enough for a dozen men. But it occupied only two. Legolas Thranduillion, of the Mirkwood Realms, who was too overrun with grief to remain on the land that had claimed the life of the one thing he had there held dear. And Gimli, son of Gloin, Elf-Friend, who had helped him build this ship, and who guided him now away from the life he had known and loved. Aragorn had died, at an extreme age for a human. But he had still died. His last days had been spent bedridden, surrounded by the few friends still alive. Legolas, during the entirety of Aragorn's slip from the living realms, had not slept or ate or dropped Aragorn's hand from his grasp. Nor had he been able to staunch the steady flow of tears down his cheeks.
Arwen died the next year. Eldarion would take a wife, and together they would rule Gondor-proud, like the fairest of the Humans by heart and by spirit. Aragorn had left a legacy, and it was his son-Eldarion the Fair, Elf-Son and the King of Gondor forevermore. Though the lad had begged Legolas to stay, to stay and advise him on his rule as he had with his Father's, Legolas knew that lingering in Gondor would prove his demise. No, he had told the raven-haired man, you have Aragorn's blood in you. You need nothing but yourself to be great.
And with that, he had left.
The wind picked at his hair, throwing it about, combing it with the intensely salted strands of its being. Legolas' cheeks were dry, his eyes alert, and his spirit already lifting from his form in the most wonderful feeling of weightlessness he had ever experienced. Resisting the sea for so many years had made succumbing to it's call all the more beautiful.
Something warm and comforting splayed at the small of Legolas' back, calling him back to Earth. Legolas turned and offered Elf-Friend Gimli a questioning smile, before glancing about. The ship had, while Legolas dreamt of the past, docked itself. In the distance, but not that far, reared the evergreen trees of an undying land. From the heart of this forest rose laughter-the sound of beauty-and the gentle, blended songs of a thousand different lips. Creeks babbled, and uncountable thousands of graceful elves milled about without a second thought to where they stepped.
"Ah," Legolas said. "We've arrived."
***
A/N: Yes.That was the end. Wow. I had so much fun writing this despite all the complaints I made about it that it kind of feels odd that I finished it. Thank you all so much for following me through this story, and for poking me along if I ever strayed from it. Seriously. Everybody who read and reviewed this made the countless hours I poured over the appendices to make this a valid fic completely worth it. Thank you.
This fic is dedicated in particular to Bobo-for her incredibly amount of support and good-humor, and to Celestra for always having the time to help out with it when I was going insane, and to Allora Gale.who read this story even though I still haven't reviewed hers. Tithen Min, Elentari Manwe, Evil Spapple Pie.You have been with me since the very beginnings.and I thank you for not having been alienated by anything I've written.
Before I go completely off-topic-ramble, I'll thank everybody who reviewed Chapter Nine.
Celestra: Thanks for your review! The doodles you sent me were beautiful =^^= I printed them out and have them in my science binder for relief from the dreariness. I particularly like you as a hyperactive elf! =^^=
Kat Heiman: *blushes* .Aww.thanks. Though I really don't think my stories are worth any of the praise they get.Thank you so much for your review, and I hope you enjoyed!
Tithen Min: Armrests are cool, but why couldn't they be called chair rails? I mean, really. 'K, I won't tell anybody that you're MORE THAN A LITTLE MAD =^^= No, it's ok.the more insanity the better, in my book.
TheWanderer: Thanks! =^^= Um..apparently one chapter until it's done.and that was it.I hope you enjoyed! =^^= And thanks for all your beautiful reviews.Seriously.Chocolate covered elf coins for you!
Bobo: *gigglegigglegiggle* Glad you liked my intestine descriptions, they were incredibly amusing to write. I hope I updated soon enough =-_^= (winking kitey that) and you enjoyed this chapter!
Tbiris: Thank you very much! Hope you enjoyed the conclusion.
Evil Spapple Pie: LOL Good to know you made at least some fun out of your assignments! And sorry that you have so many left! I know you've already said no but seriously, I'd be glad to help in any way. =^^= And look! I didn't let Legolas die.only Aragorn. Giggle giggle. So no pitch-fork stabbing, 'k? 'k. =^^= As for the cheating death thing, yes. Yes. That is the explanation.*cough* Hope you enjoyed!
WeasleyTwinsLover.: *giggles* Glad my bluffing worked quite well. Look! Legolas wasn't *really* tortured in this, not physically at least. Hope that growl there got out lots of frustration =-_^= (wink) If you need to growl some more, though, feel free. LOL!
Lissa: LOL I know, hey? Tolkien drives me mad. He's very close to being a God, but still drives me mad. Like, how did he not specify Legly's hair colour!?! It could be purple!! Giggle!
IF YOU REVIEW THIS CHAPTER Could you please leave an email address for me to email my personal thank-yous to? I'd feel horrible if all your inspiring words went unthanked.=^^= Also! If you need a Beta, I'd be glad to do that for.well pretty much any kind of story! =^^=
Now.what should I write as my next story!? Any suggestions?!
NOTE TO ARAGORN FANS: WHEN ARAGORN DIED HE WAS GREASY AND GREY AND SENILE, SO I DIDN'T ACTUALLY KILL ANYBODY SMART OR SEXY! That is all.
Readers: .So, what else is on?
Chapter Ten: Fly
***
A/N: Wow. Phew. I was nervous about that last chapter; it has a more graphic death than I'm used to writing, and definitely a little higher than PG-13. But, at least up until I write this, there haven't been any complaints about it.Again, phew. Thanks for being so acceptant of my style =^^= However, I'm slightly concerned about something: none of you have reviewed saying what I should write as my next story! I'll probably put up poll with all your ideas to be voted on.
Also-if any of you want a Beta, I'm thinking about doing that. =^^= Contact me! Kentucky_fried_camels@Hotmail.com
The song featured in this chapter is 'You Can Still Be Free' by Savage Garden.
Also, this chapter's dedicated to Bobo-for all the emotional help she's given me while I've written this.and, of course, comic relief *GG* =^^= Thanks!! *huggles*
This is the last chapter in this particular story.Actually the fact that this is the last chapter came as rather a surprise to me. I suppose I could have elaborated greatly on some of the minor relationships of this story- but instead I found an opportunity to tie up most of the lose ends. And so I did.
REMEMBER: FRIEEEENNNDDDSSHIIPPPPP not Slash XD ***
~Cool breeze and autumn leaves
Slow motion daylight
A lone pair of watchful eyes
Oversee the living~
Aragorn was hunched, dressed only in the gray robes that his healer had clad him in, on the bedside chesterfield in Legolas' chambers. The elf lay on his back, hands folded neatly over his bare chest. A more neatly woven one, replaced hourly, had replaced the makeshift bandage Aragorn had fashioned out of his tunic. The steady flow of blood from the wound was slowly staunching-but the elf remained unconscious.
Aragorn had awoken fourteen hours after he had fallen unconscious on the steps of his kingdom, and had immediately been carted away-along with Legolas-to the Healer's ward. Norobr'ah, a willowy old man, was awoken at nearly midnight to tend to the King and his advisor.
The King had gotten off fairly easy; he had only collapsed from exhaustion and stress, and a deep dreamless sleep that lasted through most of the morning granted him complete recovery. However, when he awoke, he had to be restrained by a very grim-eyed Faramir as he tried to run into Legolas' room, to see his friend.
~Feel the presence all around
A tortured soul
A wound unhealing
NO regrets or promises~
Legolas was having troubles healing, Faramir had told him gravely. It was doubtful he would last through the morning. The cut still bled as relentlessly as it had when it was fresh. Even a mortal's cut would have begun to clot, reacting to the herbs and the salves that were so tirelessly applied. But Legolas' spirit had somehow been dampened in his prison, and his elvish will to live was slipping fast out of Aragorn's grip.
For hours, Faramir spoke softly to Aragorn as he lay uselessly in the bright-white linens laid out by the Healer. When, at last, Aragorn could argue comfortably he had enough strength to walk to Legolas' room, Faramir granted him leave.
Legolas looked horrible. His body was ashen, his abdomen sunken so badly that each of his ribs poked clearly through the skin. A horrid gray-green tinge dappled in ugly splotches over Legolas' face and neck, and the area around the then-uncovered wound was stained a wretched green. Legolas shook as if being rocked continually by invisible hands, seizing up, arching his back and whimpering before falling back onto the mattress, still quivering. His entire body glistened with sweat.
~The past is gone
But you can still be free
If time will set you free~
Alone in the room, Aragorn dropped to his knees in horror and had to hold himself back from retching. His world dropped from beneath his knees, and he could feel his stomach rise to his mouth. Eyes clamped shut, Aragorn cradled his face in his hands, unable to look at the seemingly feverish elf in his near-death state on the bed he had slept so harmoniously not a month before.
"Oh my god," Arwen's voice came. Aragorn knew what his wife's expression would be; twisted, face pale, crimson lips drawn in to her mouth in horror. He felt the ripple of air beside him as his wife as well sunk to her knees, throwing her arms about her husbands shoulders. Like a babe, Aragorn fell into her arms, and wept into her shoulder as she tenderly rocked him.
Legolas had begun to recover sometime after Aragorn had fallen asleep. His temperature went down, and some colour began to return to his form. The speckles of discolouration that shrouded his perfection in an orcish unpleasantly faded, replaced by a still-fevered blush. The wound began to heal over itself, and the old healer knew that at last the elf was reacting to the many medicines that had been forced upon his system.
~Time now to spread your wings
To take to flight
The life endeavor
Aim for the burning sun~
Now, it was the sixth night past midnight that Aragorn had sat beside Legolas' bed. Arwen had long ago left to tend to her children, but Aragorn remained hunched at Legolas' bedside. His body shook only when he exhaled, now, and his breathing was rhythmic, in time to the steady rise and fall of his chest. His complexion was normal, his eyes no longer dancing in their sleep but instead staring sightlessly at the canopy of his comfortable bed.
Aragorn edged closer, laying a palm as he had many times on the Elf's cheek. It was cold to the touch, but the organic almost-winter cold that characterized their culture. It was not unhealthy, but ordinary. Legolas shivered slightly against the touch, before leaning unconsciously in to it. Even while his spirit wandered the realms of Elf-Dream, he could recognize friend from foe in such a simple gesture as a brotherly touch to the cheek.
~You're trapped inside
But you can still be free
If time will set you free
But it's a long long way to go~
Without warning, the elf's far arm lifted in the air, crossing across it's chest. Aragorn was startled, but knew immediately what to do. He reached out, clasping the elf's hand in mid-air above the pale, quivering chest of his closest friend. Legolas eyes were clear, reflecting Aragorn's haggard face in the clear, obsidian pupils.
"Aragorn," said Legolas. His voice was quiet, but not weak. All of the former princely valor and the infinite years of love and kindness that surrounded the elf's very being were still laced into the three syllables he uttered. Aragorn beamed at his friend, the hand that cupped the Elf's cheek dropping away. He squeezed the imprisoned hand of the blonde-which shook.
"Legolas," replied the man. His voice, unlike the Elf's, was considerably less composed. He had not spoken for nearly a week, and at that moment he was nearly overcome with emotion-brotherly love, absolute pride and the desire to embrace the weakened Elf he observed.
~Keep moving way up high
You see the light
It shines forever
Sail through the crimson skies
The purest light
The light that sets you free
If time will set you free~
"I'm so sorry," spluttered the elf, suddenly flustered. He twisted in the bed, just slightly, and blinked his gaze away from the stormy eyes of the man. "I.I tried to escape-I should have been stronger.I put you in danger, again.Faramir told me that you were in the Hospital Ward while I was unconscious-I still heard, I still heard.Ai." "NO!" said Aragorn fiercely. He slid his hand under the Elf's jaw, cupping the elf's chin and forcing his friend to look up at him. "No," he repeated more tenderly, shaking his head. "Legolas, 'tis my fault. You almost died, because I didn't get there in time. If I had only come sooner, perhaps your spirit would not have." Aragorn grappled for the words, visibly weakening. "Perhaps he would not have."
Legolas shook his head vehemently, struggling to sit up. He looked at Aragorn mournfully, his eyes tossed with bittersweet emotions of remembrance, but also of the complete and utter safety he felt with the King of Men at his side. "No, Aragorn.He did naught of the sort," Legolas breathed. The voice he had fought to keep emotionless finally broke. He closed his eyes, holding back tears. "You saved me twice, Aragorn.twice from."
It was Aragorn's turn to shake his head. He closed his eyes, savoring the moment of absolute serenity, of intense peace. When he lifted his lids, Legolas had quirked his head in concern. "I.I could have been stronger.My spirit.I was greedy.I just wanted to die, so badly, so badly.But there's your children, there's you and Arwen.I'm greedy."
Aragorn fought back the sudden urge to shake or throttle the elf. "No! No! Legolas, no. You came back. You're strong, stronger than me, than anybody.I'd have died, I know it.but you didn't, you came back." Legolas nodded vaguely, tears for a moment capturing his eyes in shimmering sadness. Before Aragorn could react the elf had skillfully regained his repressed stature, tears evaporated.
For several heartbeats too long and meaningful to measure, the two sat with their eyes averted, Aragorn's hand still clasped around Legolas'. What would he do without his elf, his dearest friend for nearly ten years, and the only being that was closer to Eldarion than he himself? He had lost Legolas for years after the War of the Ring while he scoured Middle Earth with Gimli. But that had never been a permanent separation. But this time, this time Legolas had hovered inches from the Halls of Mandos, inches away from leaving Aragorn, alone, behind, forgotten, forever.
~Sail through the wind and rain tonight
You're free to fly tonight
And you can still be free
If time will set you free~
"You're my best friend, Legolas," Aragorn announced suddenly. His voice cracked through the silence surprisingly loud, and Aragorn suddenly felt ashamed of his own words. He sounded so childish, and felt as though he was burdening the elf with his affections when all the Elf needed was to be rid of his own, darker ones. Yet Aragorn surprised himself by continuing, dropping Legolas' hand as he did to draw his hand over his haggard cheek. "I don't know.If you'd died, what I'd have done."
"Aragorn, mellonamin," Legolas said fiercely, drawing himself on to his knees. He lay his hands around Aragorn's face, holding it stiffly in place before Legolas eyes. Aragorn twisted uncomfortably in the chair, enraptured completely by the intensity of the sapphire that met his eyes. Legolas' of a diamond, cutting through Aragorn, and also of wicked flame and soft rain in the springtime. They were resolute and modest, and yet they were rambunctious and effervescent, everything beautiful and ugly in the world somehow exploding at once through such a small vessel as the eyes. Aragorn couldn't look away. "I promise you this; until you die I will never leave this Middle Earth."
Aragorn stared back in shock, then forced himself to look away. Tears filled his eyes, as if he had been staring in to a very bright light. "You cannot make such a promise," Aragorn whispered intensely. Legolas' hands coiled away, and lay on the bed. "I know how you crave to pass over the sea with your family, and with the rest of your Sindar kin."
~And going higher than mountain tops
And go high the wind won't stop
And go high.
Feel free to fly tonight.~
"I admit," Legolas, replied with a twisted smile, "I crave passing the sea so very much that my dreams are consumed by its presence. My very essence, at times, seems to be so captured by the mental pictures of the waves, of ships that will deliver me." The elf then shook his head.
"At times," Aragorn repeated dully.
"I have a family here, Aragorn. I have as close to a son, and a daughter, as I'll every have in my life. And that's more important to me than any ship or sea or undying land that has ever existed. No, Aragorn. I will wait." Legolas smiled softly.
And so he did.
~*~
Legolas stood on the deck of his ship, hand clutching to the rail until his knuckles were stained with white. The sea stained his nostrils with the marvelous, painful sting of salt picked at his nose. He flared his nostrils distastefully, but still craned his neck forward to take more of the blasts from the sea below head on.
The vessel he had created was beautiful. He had painstakingly carved it out of fine woods, and painted it with a charcoal-stained paint to make it a fair silver. It was completely waterproof, and large enough for a dozen men. But it occupied only two. Legolas Thranduillion, of the Mirkwood Realms, who was too overrun with grief to remain on the land that had claimed the life of the one thing he had there held dear. And Gimli, son of Gloin, Elf-Friend, who had helped him build this ship, and who guided him now away from the life he had known and loved. Aragorn had died, at an extreme age for a human. But he had still died. His last days had been spent bedridden, surrounded by the few friends still alive. Legolas, during the entirety of Aragorn's slip from the living realms, had not slept or ate or dropped Aragorn's hand from his grasp. Nor had he been able to staunch the steady flow of tears down his cheeks.
Arwen died the next year. Eldarion would take a wife, and together they would rule Gondor-proud, like the fairest of the Humans by heart and by spirit. Aragorn had left a legacy, and it was his son-Eldarion the Fair, Elf-Son and the King of Gondor forevermore. Though the lad had begged Legolas to stay, to stay and advise him on his rule as he had with his Father's, Legolas knew that lingering in Gondor would prove his demise. No, he had told the raven-haired man, you have Aragorn's blood in you. You need nothing but yourself to be great.
And with that, he had left.
The wind picked at his hair, throwing it about, combing it with the intensely salted strands of its being. Legolas' cheeks were dry, his eyes alert, and his spirit already lifting from his form in the most wonderful feeling of weightlessness he had ever experienced. Resisting the sea for so many years had made succumbing to it's call all the more beautiful.
Something warm and comforting splayed at the small of Legolas' back, calling him back to Earth. Legolas turned and offered Elf-Friend Gimli a questioning smile, before glancing about. The ship had, while Legolas dreamt of the past, docked itself. In the distance, but not that far, reared the evergreen trees of an undying land. From the heart of this forest rose laughter-the sound of beauty-and the gentle, blended songs of a thousand different lips. Creeks babbled, and uncountable thousands of graceful elves milled about without a second thought to where they stepped.
"Ah," Legolas said. "We've arrived."
***
A/N: Yes.That was the end. Wow. I had so much fun writing this despite all the complaints I made about it that it kind of feels odd that I finished it. Thank you all so much for following me through this story, and for poking me along if I ever strayed from it. Seriously. Everybody who read and reviewed this made the countless hours I poured over the appendices to make this a valid fic completely worth it. Thank you.
This fic is dedicated in particular to Bobo-for her incredibly amount of support and good-humor, and to Celestra for always having the time to help out with it when I was going insane, and to Allora Gale.who read this story even though I still haven't reviewed hers. Tithen Min, Elentari Manwe, Evil Spapple Pie.You have been with me since the very beginnings.and I thank you for not having been alienated by anything I've written.
Before I go completely off-topic-ramble, I'll thank everybody who reviewed Chapter Nine.
Celestra: Thanks for your review! The doodles you sent me were beautiful =^^= I printed them out and have them in my science binder for relief from the dreariness. I particularly like you as a hyperactive elf! =^^=
Kat Heiman: *blushes* .Aww.thanks. Though I really don't think my stories are worth any of the praise they get.Thank you so much for your review, and I hope you enjoyed!
Tithen Min: Armrests are cool, but why couldn't they be called chair rails? I mean, really. 'K, I won't tell anybody that you're MORE THAN A LITTLE MAD =^^= No, it's ok.the more insanity the better, in my book.
TheWanderer: Thanks! =^^= Um..apparently one chapter until it's done.and that was it.I hope you enjoyed! =^^= And thanks for all your beautiful reviews.Seriously.Chocolate covered elf coins for you!
Bobo: *gigglegigglegiggle* Glad you liked my intestine descriptions, they were incredibly amusing to write. I hope I updated soon enough =-_^= (winking kitey that) and you enjoyed this chapter!
Tbiris: Thank you very much! Hope you enjoyed the conclusion.
Evil Spapple Pie: LOL Good to know you made at least some fun out of your assignments! And sorry that you have so many left! I know you've already said no but seriously, I'd be glad to help in any way. =^^= And look! I didn't let Legolas die.only Aragorn. Giggle giggle. So no pitch-fork stabbing, 'k? 'k. =^^= As for the cheating death thing, yes. Yes. That is the explanation.*cough* Hope you enjoyed!
WeasleyTwinsLover.: *giggles* Glad my bluffing worked quite well. Look! Legolas wasn't *really* tortured in this, not physically at least. Hope that growl there got out lots of frustration =-_^= (wink) If you need to growl some more, though, feel free. LOL!
Lissa: LOL I know, hey? Tolkien drives me mad. He's very close to being a God, but still drives me mad. Like, how did he not specify Legly's hair colour!?! It could be purple!! Giggle!
IF YOU REVIEW THIS CHAPTER Could you please leave an email address for me to email my personal thank-yous to? I'd feel horrible if all your inspiring words went unthanked.=^^= Also! If you need a Beta, I'd be glad to do that for.well pretty much any kind of story! =^^=
Now.what should I write as my next story!? Any suggestions?!
NOTE TO ARAGORN FANS: WHEN ARAGORN DIED HE WAS GREASY AND GREY AND SENILE, SO I DIDN'T ACTUALLY KILL ANYBODY SMART OR SEXY! That is all.
Readers: .So, what else is on?