Title: A Time For Tears
Summary: Legolas' POV during the cliff scene of TT.
Notes: Well, I've finally decided to write a LOTR fic after viewing Two Towers again. So...please excuse any and all mistakes you might find. ^.^
===
Legolas:
"Aragorn? Aragorn!"
I plucked my last salvageable arrow from the chest of an Orc, scanning the horizon as I did so. "Aragorn?" I repeated, looking at where Théoden's men were gathering. I didn't see him. Perhaps he was prowling around the battle scene, picking off any fleeing Wargs and their riders, I thought. It was just like Aragorn to do so.
"Aragorn?" Gimli called.
I turned to look at the dwarf. "Have you seen him?"
"Nay," Gimli said. He grunted as he clumsily walked up to where I stood.
I furrowed my brow. "It is not like him to walk off without telling us," I said, worried now.
"Perhaps he didn't, lad," Gimli said.
A soft cackle hit the air.
Gimli's gaze fell on the ground. "Sharku," he bit out, his gaze contorting at the sight of the Orc. In response, Sharku smirked, his rotting teeth showing, even as he wheezed for air.
"He knows what happened," I said, staring at the yellowed grass on the ground. I was no Ranger, unlike Aragorn, but even I could read the crumpled grass, with the drag marks...leading to the edge of the cliff. No. It was impossible. It couldn't be.
Gimli settled one hand on his axe as he stood over Sharku. "Tell me what happened and I will ease your passing."
Sharku smiled thinly, blood running freely down his mouth. "He's dead. Took a little tumble off the cliff," he said.
I rocked backwards at his words. I blinked as I stared out over the cliff. It could not be true. He was bluffing. He had to be bluffing. "You lie!" I hissed, grabbing Sharku and holding him close. I searched his eyes desperately, seeking some deception in them. But I got nothing.
He smiled at me, pleased. Then without warning, I felt his life flee from him. My grip on him loosened, even as he fell limply in the pool of blood he had created for himself. Disgusted, I started to rise, halting when I caught a flash of silver in his fist. Carefully, I loosened the grip, a small piece of jewelry falling into my palm.
Gimli winced as he saw it. I flinched as well. It was Aragorn's Evenstar pendant. He would never have left it behind, unless he was not able to get it back...Horrified, I ran back to the edge of the cliff. "Aragorn!" I shouted. More desperately, now. "Aragorn!"
My ears strained for any sound of the human, but I could hear nothing but the pounding of the water. The waves crashed far below me, striking with deadly force against the rocks. How could any man have survived that fall? Even if Aragorn had avoided hitting the sharp rocks, the force of hitting the water surely must have killed him. And if they hadn't succeeded, the waves would have been more than enough to wash him away and out to sea.
My thoughts were interrupted by Théoden's voice. "Get the wounded on horses. The wolves of Isengard will return. Leave the dead."
Leave the dead, the order swirled around in my thoughts. The dead. I turned towards him, unable to hide my disbelief and anger. How could he stand there so calmly in spite of all the death? How dare he leave them? All the men wouldn't be dead if it hadn't been for his order to travel to Helms Deep!
He met my gaze unflinchingly. "Come," he said.
I couldn't bring my feet to move. No matter how I worked it around in my brain, I knew I couldn't leave this spot. What if Aragorn was still alive? What if he had managed to find a handhold on the edge of the cliff? I couldn't just leave, knowing he might still be there and in need of desperate help.
Théoden turned. "Legolas. Gimli." His tone was impassive.
"I cannot leave him," I murmured softly, staring at the angry water below.
Gimli sighed softly next to me. "I think we must."
"I cannot."
"He would want you to."
"How do you know? He's not here to tell us!" I snapped at the dwarf. "How dare you think he's dead! This is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. If anybody could survive, he could."
"I do not like this anymore than you do, Legolas," Gimli said. "But even Aragorn, son of Arathorn, heir of Isilduir, is vulnerable to death."
"How can you lose hope so quickly?" I said.
Gimli's eyes shadowed. "Death comes without warning," he said.
It took me a second to process his words. Gimli thought by hope, I had meant 'Aragorn.' Disbelief coursed through my veins, but before I could utter a word, Théoden spoke again, his tone impatience. "Legolas. Gimli. We must go. The people of Rohan – "
"Your people," I said angrily. It was always about him. Why didn't he think of anybody else for a change? Immediately I regretted my thoughts. They were no way to speak to a King worried about his subjects. It had been a childish act.
" – need our assistance. It is no use to cry over ghosts." Théoden sighed, suddenly looking very weary. "We have no time for tears."
My eyes flickered back to the raging waves below. I slowly shook my head, wanting to rebel at his words, to scream words of anger at him. But I could not. "Life is a cruel thing at times," I said.
"Come," Théoden repeated, his expression softening. "The women and children are waiting." He studied me carefully. "Yours is not the only loss we suffered today. Let us hope it will be the last."
The End
