Against the Dying of the Light
But what would happen, would happen, for Eldarion had not the power to will it to take place otherwise. Legolas struggled to stay afloat against the fierce waves and he grabbed on to a piece of wood from the broken remains of his grey ship, straining his eyes against the thick and gloomy veil of rain, seeking to find his friend.
"Ulmo!" came his desperate voice. "Ulmo of the Valar, Lord of the Waters! Have you grown so weary as to abandon the Eldar whom you love?"
"Legolas…" the elf heard a faint call. Looking wildly around, his eyes spotted the small, yet stout, and unmistakable frame of Gimli, borne by the seas, half-drowned.
"Gimli!" gasped the elf, and he kicked against the water frantically, trying to reach his beloved companion. "Gimli, grab my hand!"
And as their gaze met, Legolas was filled with a strange, bittersweet calmness and resignation, and an overwhelming love for his Companion; such was the depth of their friendship.
"Gimli." He looked straight at the dwarf, valiant warrior, truest companion, dearest friend. And the dwarf reached over against the winds and the rain, and grasped the elf's hand. Gimli and Legolas, the dwarf and the elf. "If this be the end of our tale, my friend, then let us end it together."
Gimli nodded. "Thus does the story of Legolas and Gimli come to a close." And a slight smile of sorrow was upon his face, grief and sadness mingling with a melancholic joy, as lightning flashed and waters crashed against the winds, rain and sea-foam blurring together, air clashing with water in a union both majestic and terrifying, and the storm raged on, rain pouring down upon the sea, waters rising in menacing pillars 'til foam-capped waves swept up and engulfed them.
Legolas closed his eyes and a smile played upon his lips, and he felt Gimli's hand in his, he held onto it tightly, in the inseparable bond of love and friendship. Let life out, and let death in. Let light out and let dark in. He would meet it; he would meet it together with Gimli.
Gimli's eyes were open; he would face Death, bold and unafraid, defiant and noble, with the courage of the Dwarves, and Legolas with him always. Even so, a tear slipped out from the corner of his eye, a single tear that was lost in the waters, never noticed. But Gimli did not flinch, did not blink. He smiled. He would face Death, bold and unafraid.
Just as the torrents swallowed the two and the currents pulled them under into the black unknown, Gimli looked up towards the skies and saw a brief glimmer, a spark of blinding light peeking out through the gloom of dark.
And the light was beautiful.
Thus with the Passing of Legolas and Gimli, in the Fourth Age of Gondor in the year 120, an end had come in Middle-earth of the Fellowship of the Ring, and the beginning of the Reign of King Eldarion.
Inspired by: The Prophecy of Mandos as told in The Shaping of Middle-earth and The Appendices of The Lord of the Rings.
Thank you—
To the few who have been there throughout the course of this, short as it was, who cheered me on, who let me moan, who read it through, who cared enough to stick their necks out for me. I love you all, and you know that.
To all who reviewed, truly, I am most undeserving.
And to Messr J.R.R Tolkien: For sharing Middle-earth with the world. It is timeless, and the road goes ever on and on. What a journey it has been.
-Millikov
But what would happen, would happen, for Eldarion had not the power to will it to take place otherwise. Legolas struggled to stay afloat against the fierce waves and he grabbed on to a piece of wood from the broken remains of his grey ship, straining his eyes against the thick and gloomy veil of rain, seeking to find his friend.
"Ulmo!" came his desperate voice. "Ulmo of the Valar, Lord of the Waters! Have you grown so weary as to abandon the Eldar whom you love?"
"Legolas…" the elf heard a faint call. Looking wildly around, his eyes spotted the small, yet stout, and unmistakable frame of Gimli, borne by the seas, half-drowned.
"Gimli!" gasped the elf, and he kicked against the water frantically, trying to reach his beloved companion. "Gimli, grab my hand!"
And as their gaze met, Legolas was filled with a strange, bittersweet calmness and resignation, and an overwhelming love for his Companion; such was the depth of their friendship.
"Gimli." He looked straight at the dwarf, valiant warrior, truest companion, dearest friend. And the dwarf reached over against the winds and the rain, and grasped the elf's hand. Gimli and Legolas, the dwarf and the elf. "If this be the end of our tale, my friend, then let us end it together."
Gimli nodded. "Thus does the story of Legolas and Gimli come to a close." And a slight smile of sorrow was upon his face, grief and sadness mingling with a melancholic joy, as lightning flashed and waters crashed against the winds, rain and sea-foam blurring together, air clashing with water in a union both majestic and terrifying, and the storm raged on, rain pouring down upon the sea, waters rising in menacing pillars 'til foam-capped waves swept up and engulfed them.
Legolas closed his eyes and a smile played upon his lips, and he felt Gimli's hand in his, he held onto it tightly, in the inseparable bond of love and friendship. Let life out, and let death in. Let light out and let dark in. He would meet it; he would meet it together with Gimli.
Gimli's eyes were open; he would face Death, bold and unafraid, defiant and noble, with the courage of the Dwarves, and Legolas with him always. Even so, a tear slipped out from the corner of his eye, a single tear that was lost in the waters, never noticed. But Gimli did not flinch, did not blink. He smiled. He would face Death, bold and unafraid.
Just as the torrents swallowed the two and the currents pulled them under into the black unknown, Gimli looked up towards the skies and saw a brief glimmer, a spark of blinding light peeking out through the gloom of dark.
And the light was beautiful.
Thus with the Passing of Legolas and Gimli, in the Fourth Age of Gondor in the year 120, an end had come in Middle-earth of the Fellowship of the Ring, and the beginning of the Reign of King Eldarion.
Inspired by: The Prophecy of Mandos as told in The Shaping of Middle-earth and The Appendices of The Lord of the Rings.
Thank you—
To the few who have been there throughout the course of this, short as it was, who cheered me on, who let me moan, who read it through, who cared enough to stick their necks out for me. I love you all, and you know that.
To all who reviewed, truly, I am most undeserving.
And to Messr J.R.R Tolkien: For sharing Middle-earth with the world. It is timeless, and the road goes ever on and on. What a journey it has been.
-Millikov