A/N: Sorry it took me forever to upload, dudes! I've been kind of busy
lately. So, yes, this is the last chapter. I don't think I will write
more. Unless the demand is unreasonably high. But yes. This chapter starts
out kind of lame. I wasn't in the zone, but near the end, it gets better.
Trust me. Go ahead and flame, I don't care, it will be used to roast
mushrooms. But please, DO REVIEW!
Disclaimer: Sadly, I am not Tolkien, I do not own any characters or places, and I am making no money off this work. Don't sue me.
* * *
Gimli held the limp elven body tightly about the waist, though severely wishing he could grasp the horse more tightly. When he had ridden with Legolas, he couldn't have felt safer. The elf seemed to have talked to the horse in his tongue, calming it when it was afraid, and telling it to run at a seconds notice. But Gimli knew no elvish, and he did not trust the animals in the first place.
The dwarf was helpless to stop himself from weeping. Tears silently rolled down his cheeks, draining through his beard. He had lost two of them. Within the space of not even an hour, both were gone. Forever. Now the Fellowship was truly broken. Without the expert tracking skills of Aragorn or Legolas, he would never be able to find Merry and Pippin. He was alone now.
At last, they came to the fortress of Helms Deep. They made their way through the clusters of peasants. When they came to a halt, Gimli saw Eowyn. She was troubled.
"So. . .so few of you have returned," she was saying to her father. Yet she meant more than that. She feared one in particular might not have returned.
Theoden dismounted his horse. "Our people our safe." He dodged the question, and started away.
Eowyn turned to see Gimli before her. A sadness lingered about him, and he held his helmet in his gloved hands.
"Where is lord Aragorn?" she asked eagerly, though her eyes betrayed her, showing her nervousness. "And the elf?"
Gimli was surprised she did not know Legolas' name. He pondered a moment how to answer the maiden. But ere he spoke, Eowyn had guessed the reply she had dreaded.
"They are gone."
Shock took a hold of Eowyn. She trembled, and looked to her father, her distressed eyes crying out "how could you let this happen?" But not a glimmer of emotion was there in the king's eyes, and he turned away. The maiden looked back to where Gimli had been, and saw him leading away the horse Arod, with a fair, lifeless elf slung across it's back, his eyes glazed and empty.
Eowyn had admired the elf. She was ashamed that she did not even know his name, but still, she thought no less of him. He stood tall and proud, and moved gracefully. Something about him comforted her. He was strong, and from what she had heard, was a mighty warrior.
Was.
She had been drawn to Aragorn, by some unseen force. He was valiant, and pure hearted. A true leader, with respect for even the lowliest of persons.
And now neither would see the dawn of victory in this battle. . .let alone this war.
* * *
Whispers drifted about Helms Deep; some of curious men, and some of suspicious nature. And unrest lay heavy on the people of Rohan, for a reason unknown.
Gimli too felt this. He wandered about the great halls and corridors restlessly, waiting for something to happen. Nothing presented itself to him. There was nothing to think about, nothing to act upon. So his mind helplessly focused upon loss.
What will I do now? Gimli wondered in despair. He had only ever followed Aragorn and Gandalf. Now, there seemed little left he could do. He could try and hunt down Merry and Pippin, but Gandalf had said they "met someone they did not expect", and he had said it as if it were a good thing. Gimli knew Aragorn had wished to go to Gondor, yet what good would a dwarf do there? He had no knowledge of Aragorn's plans, and there was no "Isildur's heir" any longer. The people of Minas Tirith would not pay heed to a dwarf.
Cries and gasps of. . .of what, Gimli could not know, but there seemed no fear or sorrow within the voices. He followed them, descending stairs and following winding paths, until at last he found his way blocked by a large crowd.
He tapped a young boy on the shoulder. "What are they looking at?"
The child looked up, excitement glittering in his innocent eyes. "Lord Aragorn has returned!"
What? He lives? That . . . that cannot be!
Yet even as he thought these words, he heard faintly a woman crying out "He is back!" And that was enough proof for him.
"Where is he? Where is he? Get out of my way! I'm gonna kill him!" Unexpectedly, he broke through the crowd, and what he saw nearly knocked him from his sturdy feet.
There stood Aragorn, alive as could be, though scratched up as usual. "You are the luckiest, the canniest, the most reckless man I ever knew!" He rushed up and drew the man into a thankful embrace. I am not alone anymore, he thought. "Bless you, laddie!"
Aragorn patted the dwarf on the shoulder. "Where is the king?"
Gimli hesitated. He would have to know sooner or later. "Let me talk to you first." All joy had drained from his face and words, and the grim sounding voice drew Aragorn to know the dwarf spoke of importance. Wordlessly, Gimli lead Aragorn away from the mob, and to a quiet corner of the stronghold.
"Aragorn. . . " Gimli paused. He could feel the tears threatening to overflow his eyes. "You know elves can die of grief?"
Aragorn nodded. He stared intensely at the dwarf, hearing the strained anguish in his voice.
"After you. . . Well, after you fell, Legolas, he . . . he . . ." He was cut off when Aragorn placed his hand gently. Gimli twisted his head, only to see Aragorn covering his face with his hand. The man rose from where he had been sitting, and trudged slowly away.
Torrents of salty tears streaked his rugged face. He had lost Arwen already.and now Legolas?
"What is this? WHY DO THEY ALL LEAVE?!" He cried out, slamming his fist against the solid rock wall in rage.
How he had wanted to weep when Arwen had left, yet he could not find the courage to. But now. . . now both his lover and dearest friend were gone.
Now he could cry.
"Why did you have to leave, Legolas?" he whimpered. By now he had wandered outside of Helms Deep. "I am back now . . . you can come back now, Legolas . . .please, return to me . . . "
All strength left his body, as he collapsed to his knees, and sacrificed every ounce of his being into his tears.
What he did not realize was that he had fallen upon Legolas' grave.
Disclaimer: Sadly, I am not Tolkien, I do not own any characters or places, and I am making no money off this work. Don't sue me.
* * *
Gimli held the limp elven body tightly about the waist, though severely wishing he could grasp the horse more tightly. When he had ridden with Legolas, he couldn't have felt safer. The elf seemed to have talked to the horse in his tongue, calming it when it was afraid, and telling it to run at a seconds notice. But Gimli knew no elvish, and he did not trust the animals in the first place.
The dwarf was helpless to stop himself from weeping. Tears silently rolled down his cheeks, draining through his beard. He had lost two of them. Within the space of not even an hour, both were gone. Forever. Now the Fellowship was truly broken. Without the expert tracking skills of Aragorn or Legolas, he would never be able to find Merry and Pippin. He was alone now.
At last, they came to the fortress of Helms Deep. They made their way through the clusters of peasants. When they came to a halt, Gimli saw Eowyn. She was troubled.
"So. . .so few of you have returned," she was saying to her father. Yet she meant more than that. She feared one in particular might not have returned.
Theoden dismounted his horse. "Our people our safe." He dodged the question, and started away.
Eowyn turned to see Gimli before her. A sadness lingered about him, and he held his helmet in his gloved hands.
"Where is lord Aragorn?" she asked eagerly, though her eyes betrayed her, showing her nervousness. "And the elf?"
Gimli was surprised she did not know Legolas' name. He pondered a moment how to answer the maiden. But ere he spoke, Eowyn had guessed the reply she had dreaded.
"They are gone."
Shock took a hold of Eowyn. She trembled, and looked to her father, her distressed eyes crying out "how could you let this happen?" But not a glimmer of emotion was there in the king's eyes, and he turned away. The maiden looked back to where Gimli had been, and saw him leading away the horse Arod, with a fair, lifeless elf slung across it's back, his eyes glazed and empty.
Eowyn had admired the elf. She was ashamed that she did not even know his name, but still, she thought no less of him. He stood tall and proud, and moved gracefully. Something about him comforted her. He was strong, and from what she had heard, was a mighty warrior.
Was.
She had been drawn to Aragorn, by some unseen force. He was valiant, and pure hearted. A true leader, with respect for even the lowliest of persons.
And now neither would see the dawn of victory in this battle. . .let alone this war.
* * *
Whispers drifted about Helms Deep; some of curious men, and some of suspicious nature. And unrest lay heavy on the people of Rohan, for a reason unknown.
Gimli too felt this. He wandered about the great halls and corridors restlessly, waiting for something to happen. Nothing presented itself to him. There was nothing to think about, nothing to act upon. So his mind helplessly focused upon loss.
What will I do now? Gimli wondered in despair. He had only ever followed Aragorn and Gandalf. Now, there seemed little left he could do. He could try and hunt down Merry and Pippin, but Gandalf had said they "met someone they did not expect", and he had said it as if it were a good thing. Gimli knew Aragorn had wished to go to Gondor, yet what good would a dwarf do there? He had no knowledge of Aragorn's plans, and there was no "Isildur's heir" any longer. The people of Minas Tirith would not pay heed to a dwarf.
Cries and gasps of. . .of what, Gimli could not know, but there seemed no fear or sorrow within the voices. He followed them, descending stairs and following winding paths, until at last he found his way blocked by a large crowd.
He tapped a young boy on the shoulder. "What are they looking at?"
The child looked up, excitement glittering in his innocent eyes. "Lord Aragorn has returned!"
What? He lives? That . . . that cannot be!
Yet even as he thought these words, he heard faintly a woman crying out "He is back!" And that was enough proof for him.
"Where is he? Where is he? Get out of my way! I'm gonna kill him!" Unexpectedly, he broke through the crowd, and what he saw nearly knocked him from his sturdy feet.
There stood Aragorn, alive as could be, though scratched up as usual. "You are the luckiest, the canniest, the most reckless man I ever knew!" He rushed up and drew the man into a thankful embrace. I am not alone anymore, he thought. "Bless you, laddie!"
Aragorn patted the dwarf on the shoulder. "Where is the king?"
Gimli hesitated. He would have to know sooner or later. "Let me talk to you first." All joy had drained from his face and words, and the grim sounding voice drew Aragorn to know the dwarf spoke of importance. Wordlessly, Gimli lead Aragorn away from the mob, and to a quiet corner of the stronghold.
"Aragorn. . . " Gimli paused. He could feel the tears threatening to overflow his eyes. "You know elves can die of grief?"
Aragorn nodded. He stared intensely at the dwarf, hearing the strained anguish in his voice.
"After you. . . Well, after you fell, Legolas, he . . . he . . ." He was cut off when Aragorn placed his hand gently. Gimli twisted his head, only to see Aragorn covering his face with his hand. The man rose from where he had been sitting, and trudged slowly away.
Torrents of salty tears streaked his rugged face. He had lost Arwen already.and now Legolas?
"What is this? WHY DO THEY ALL LEAVE?!" He cried out, slamming his fist against the solid rock wall in rage.
How he had wanted to weep when Arwen had left, yet he could not find the courage to. But now. . . now both his lover and dearest friend were gone.
Now he could cry.
"Why did you have to leave, Legolas?" he whimpered. By now he had wandered outside of Helms Deep. "I am back now . . . you can come back now, Legolas . . .please, return to me . . . "
All strength left his body, as he collapsed to his knees, and sacrificed every ounce of his being into his tears.
What he did not realize was that he had fallen upon Legolas' grave.