Chapter 2. Sensations
*Picks up a little while after Chapter 1. Legolas is standing beside Gimli's open casket, just before the funeral.
"Legolas, let go."
"He's dead, Mithrandir!" Legolas whispered, refusing to relinquish his grip on the dwarf's hand. "He's dead!"
"Legolas!" the wizard said sharply. "You've been here for hours. Please, let him go." The elf remained silent and did not move. "Legolas," sighed Gandalf, "the funeral is going to happen in a few minutes. You must let go."
Legolas Thranduilion choked, a dry sob escaping from his lips. Very slowly, he released his hold on his best friend and took an unsteady step back.
"Good-bye," he whispered.
*********************************
Through the burial ceremony, Legolas remained worryingly silent. No tears came to his eyes; he stared blankly as the ceremony proceeded. When the casket was finally lowered into the ground, Legolas did not move. He remained, long after the grave had been filled and the other mourning elves had moved away. He mourned, mourned the loss of his best friend, his closest comrade over the past few centuries. He mourned the deaths of all of his mortal friends, who had slowly vanished from his life, wisps of smoke blown away by the breeze. In particular he thought of seven companions, seven others who had walked with him across Middle-earth on a desperate quest to prevent the rise of a dark lord, seven who had all died. But he did more than mourn.
He remembered.
-one-
"Why are you sad, Master Elf?"
"The stones are mourning, Boromir. They mourn the passing of the elves from this land."
"The stones?"
"Aye. They lament, they grieve, and I hear their cries."
"There were elves here once?"
A sigh. "A very long time ago, if only the stones remember. In fact, this was where the elven smiths lived, the smiths who crafted the Rings of Power."
A pause. "I see. It seems that even elves make mistakes, then."
A wry chuckle. "Indeed we do, Boromir. We are far from infallible."
A headshake. "But it is always my people who shoulder the blame, is it not? It is our weakness that is trumpeted across Middle-earth, it is our pride and vices and mistakes!"
A shrug.
"Perhaps. But do not forget,
there are strengths to be found in you as well. The elves… we hide away, we have removed ourselves over the past
millennia. In times such as these, we
do what we can but we must look to our own needs as well, for our numbers are
diminishing. The dwarves remain in
their mountains. The hobbits have their
own Shire. But men…you are forced to
shoulder many burdens and there are more opportunities for mistakes. There are always two sides, Boromir."
A smile. "Thank you. I never understood my brother's fascination
for elves, but I think I do now. Your
words are wise, and I think I now understand a little more about my people's
reputation."
"Any time, Boromir, any time."
-two-
"The darkness in this place presses on you, does it not, Legolas?"
A distracted nod. "It does. But it presses on you, as well, but for different reasons, I think."
A shudder. "I can feel a remnant of evil in this place, Legolas. Do you feel it?"
"Yes, I do. But I think you probably sense it more."
"The Ring grows heavier, Legolas. I do not know why, but it makes me weary. Ai! I am useless, I fear! Why, the… thing in the water snatched me, but I was powerless to defend myself."
"Frodo, you have the most difficult job of us all. Focus on your task; it is our job to protect you. And protect you we will, as long as we are able."
-three-
"Are you really the son of the Elven-King Thranduil, Master Legolas?"
"Aye. I am. Really."
"Master Bilbo told me all about your home. Can you really ride the barrels out from the dungeons? Did your guards get in much trouble for drinking too much? Was your father very angry? Why did he lock away the dwarves? Does he not like hobbits any more because of that?"
A laugh. "Peace, Samwise! I have never tried to ride the barrels from the caverns; I think I am too large. The guards were chastised, but since everyone else had been at a feast, my father was not too harsh on them. It is hardly fair that they were on guard duty while others feasted. He locked away the dwarves because in the last century we fear to let any wander our wood. There is a reason it is now called Mirkwood, and we fear to find ourselves assaulted from all sides. And I think that Bilbo increased my father's regard for hobbits greatly."
"Really? And can elves really walk on snow? Do you really sleep with your eyes open? Do you talk to trees? Why do you ride horses without saddles? Why…?"
-four-
Thump.
Gasp. "Oh dear."
A chuckle. "I take it that was meant for Pippin, Merry?"
"Y…yes."
"Well, if you don't mind me saying, it was a fine snowball, while it lasted."
"What?"
"I said it was a fine snowball."
"Oh. Thank you, Legolas. I'm sorry I hit you. I was aiming for Pippin."
"That's quite alright, Merry. But I am sorry for the loss of your fine snowball."
"It's just a snowball. I can make another."
A mischievous grin. "Allow me, Merry. Allow me."
Pause.
Thump.
Splutter.
"Legolas! Now I've got snow all down my shirt!"
-five-
"Why do you watch the seagulls?"
"They are calling to me, Pippin. Telling me of a place over the Sea."
"Oh." A pause. "Do not go over the sea, Legolas! There will always be some of us and even some wise dwarves like Gimli here who need you!"
A smile. "You said that once before, Pippin. I thank you. It means much to me."
"Why do you think of crossing the sea?"
"The time of my people has passed. Soon we will be little more than a memory."
"Doesn't that bother you?"
"A little. The elves don't always take well to change, since we've lived so long in the world. We are accustomed to living a certain way, so change is difficult at times."
"I guess the hobbits must seem simple and quaint to you, since you've lived so long."
"Quaint, maybe, but not simple. You are a good reminder of why change must take place. We all have to make room in Arda for the others, and the elves have had our turn. It is time for people like you to blossom."
-six-
"All hail Elessar!"
A glare. " 'Elessar' fails to be amused. 'Elessar' would much rather be called 'Aragorn' by his friends, thank you very much, Legolas. 'Elessar' gets enough 'hailing' to last him ten lifetimes!"
A laugh. "My apologies. Life as royalty not treating you well, then?"
"Oh, it is. But I do miss the old times… wandering with you and Elladan and Elrohir. Hunting. Camping out under the stars…"
"Being attacked by orcs, dragging our sorry broken little bodies back to Elrond…"
"Well, that too, I guess."
"We could still go, if you wish."
"And risk the wrath of Arwen? I think not."
"Oh. Right."
A silence.
"Legolas?"
"Hmm?"
"Do you miss your home in Eryn Lasgalen?"
"Yes, but there are good reasons for me to be in Ithilien."
"Such as?"
"It's a beautiful land. It deserves to be given the life it once had. It can be one of the last tasks of the elves before we leave."
"Oh."
Pause.
"That, and if I was in Lasgalen, I wouldn't get to pay homage to the great King Elessar!"
A sigh.
"Oh, go home, Legolas."
-seven-
"Gimli?"
"Yes?"
"Why did you choose to come? Won't you miss your people?"
"Aye. But why should I pass up a chance to meet the Lady Galadriel again? Her beauty surpasses anything or anyone I could behold amongst my people."
A pause.
"Well, as long as you recognize that, Gimli. I'm glad you've finally realized that elves are far superior to you."
"Excuse me, but you, my friend, are not the Lady Galadriel."
A laugh. "So why are you here? Why didn't you just follow your Lady Galadriel across the ocean years ago?"
"Because without me you'd probably sail right off the edge of the world, elf."
"Impossible! Elves have an excellent sense of direction!"
"Indeed? Remind me who it was again that got himself completely lost in the Glittering Cave, then?"
"Umm… you?"
A chuckle. "If that's what helps you sleep at night, elf…"
"Legolas?"
"Hmm? Oh. Gandalf. I didn't know you were still here," Legolas said, surprised that he was not alone.
"Walk with me, young elf," the wizard requested, if it can be said that wizards request anything.
"How can they bear it, Gandalf?" Legolas said after a few minutes of quiet walking. "Doesn't the thought of death scare them?"
The wizard shook his head. "If I understand it aright, Legolas, they get weary of life after some time. It's like a well-deserved rest for them."
"But they miss so much!"
"They do. But although I don't pretend to understand all of Iluvatar's plans for the mortals of the world, I do not think that they are truly gone when they die," Mithrandir said.
"I don't understand," Legolas said after a short pause.
"Their spirits go to a different sort of place, Legolas. A place not part of Arda… a sort of heaven, if you will," the wizard explained. "They are not bound to Arda as we are."
"But they are not there in the flesh? Just their spirits?"
"Yes, that is what I understand."
Legolas shook his head. "But then they are not truly alive, are they? They exist, but it's not life."
"No, it really isn't," Mithrandir sighed. "I don't understand it much more than you do, young elf, for, now that we are at peace, I would sooner cast away Narya than forsake Aman for a life in a spirit world."
"We're the last, Mithrandir," Legolas whispered as they sat on a stone bench beside the walking path. "We are all the remain of the Fellowship."
"We have memories, Legolas," Mithrandir reminded the elf gently.
"We do, but memories are a poor thing to have, in lieu of friends."
"Perhaps," sighed the wizard. They were quiet for a moment. The breeze whispered through the trees and the air smelled faintly of rain, the sort of rain that comes only in the springtime, bringing with it life and renewal. The sky was getting dark, and the horizon was beginning to glow with deep violets and vivid scarlets as the sun prepared to set. In the distance, they could hear the sound of elven laughter and song, and water from a nearby creek trickled softly over stones made smooth with time and wear. Legolas closed his eyes and breathed deeply, inhaling the clear air. Listening to the merry sounds in the distance, he could almost taste the wine and foods from the celebration, a celebration for nothing in particular, just an acute love of life, as is the way of the elves.
"We are really the fortunate ones, aren't we, Gandalf?" he said quietly, basking in the sensations that were a part of Valinor. "We have been blessed with true life until the end of Arda. We have so long to really experience life…"
"Fortunate…" the wizard repeated softly, before replying, "yes, Legolas. We are fortunate."
TBC
Next chapter… Gimli is reunited with other friends from Middle Earth, and the talk turns to things that each of them would have done, if they'd had just a little more time to live.