Chapter 2
When Legolas awoke, it was to see Haldir sitting beside him, lost in thought. The sun had risen far above the horizon, now mid-morning.
"Hello," Haldir said warmly. Legolas weakly smiled back.
The rode for the morning, leisurely, sometimes exchanging a few words (but these are very fragmented, for Legolas didn't speak much), but mostly riding in silence with their own thoughts.
By nightfall they had reached a town, but Legolas advised staying away from it. Haldir shrugged his shoulders, content enough that the elf had at least said something,
A bright fire burned on the plain, and Legolas could see Haldir's face outlined in the flickering light. He sat pensively staring into the ever changing depths, his eyes so forlorn. He sighed and rested his chin on his palm, his blonde hair falling across his face. Legolas felt a familiar burn in his chest as he saw that sculpture of elvish beauty.
He could not deny the long lost feelings for this elf he once harbored. Long time mentor and friend, constant companion, always there. Legolas knew the elf dearly loved him, but he felt sometimes that he could not return this, and this plagued him horridly. Every time he would shout at that elf, he would inwardly cringe. Every time Haldir tried to show him love, Legolas would half-heartedly return it.
And then Aragorn came.
The man was stunning perfection, not elvish perfection, but everything about him was right. He visited Mirkwood with an entourage of elves from Imladris. At that time Legolas had been about eighteen in human years, and the man swept him away.
They spent much of the time together, riding through the forests, training, talking, and laughing. Legolas could tell that this man was far more than he could ever dream of. He never wanted those two weeks to end, never.
Haldir did. He knew Haldir secretly loathed the man. He was obviously a roadblock in the considered relationship between the two elves. Legolas never thought of Haldir as much more than just a small crush and never considered he ever would, but Haldir did.
A vision suddenly floated before Legolas' eyes, that quite night in a glen not far from the palace of Mirkwood, a secluded hiding place. Legolas cringed and tried to not recall such a painful time, yet he could not, and he felt himself slipping into it.
The moon shone through the twisted branches of towering trees, beams of light dotting a small glen. The grass was soft underfoot, and Legolas fell upon it in happiness. Beside him fell another body, a young man's form. He rolled over and looked Aragorn in the eye.
"Now do you see why I love the forest so much, why I treasure the stars?" he asked. Aragorn smiled and nodded.
"How could I not?" Legolas laughed, bells chiming in his voice. He lifted himself on one elbow to look out over the clearing. Aragorn cocked his head, puzzled. Legolas grinned at the man beside him and looked straight into his eyes. Those eyes, they were so deep, so impenetrable. He felt himself slipping on a precipice on which he stood for quite a many days, falling into those depths. Before he knew what he was doing, he bent down and kissed the man, on the cheek. He felt the man stiffen, and Legolas backed away, standing as he did. Aragorn sat up and looked and the retreating back of the Elvin prince as Legolas hurried away.
Haldir, Legolas now knew, had watched that intimate display. It was really nothing more than a peck on the cheek, but in that brief time it said so much. It said every word Legolas could not say then, nor can I say them any longer. Mela, Melamin, what are these words to me now? They mean nothing!
Despite the self control he tried to gain while riding, Legolas felt tears creeping down his cheeks. He hadn't cried for the entire day, and he would not now. Rolling over so Haldir did not see those errant tears, he squeezed his eyes shut and fell deep into sleep.
***
Aragorn did not leave Legolas' room until early the next morning, and then only by the summons of Lady Arwen. She came in search for him and found him in a heap on the floor. At first, she worried he had died sometime in the night, but when she rolled him over, she found he was just sleeping.
"What have I done?" he asked suddenly. They now sat together in the shade of a large tree, the mid-morning sun shining down upon them. Arwen turned her worried gaze on him, and pleading eyes stared listlessly back at her.
"Whatever do you mean?" she questioned gently. Aragorn was not himself. He put his head in his hands and his entire body shook. What would trouble him to tears?
He turned a strangely dry face to her again, his lip trembling.
"He is gone." Arwen did not want to believe what she heard. Could it be true? Was he lamenting the loss of that elf, his companion? His lover, she thought with distaste. "I hurt him and he left. I tried to save him, but he will fade. He is gone."
Before she could respond, an arrow soared through the air. Aragorn saw as it pierced Arwen straight though. She gasped once before her eyes glazed over, and she slumped to the ground.
At first, Aragorn did not fully understand what had happened. One moment, Arwen was alive, and the next, she was impaled upon the shaft of an arrow. For a small fraction of time, her face was Legolas', but that faded, and Aragorn felt within him complete loss.
"Arwen?" he questioned, lifting her up. The cream colored dress she wore was covered with fresh blood, seeping from her wound. Aragorn paled. Blood he had seen, but never the blood of one so close to him. Never...
Her face was Legolas'.
***
Elrond sat at a table, enjoying this hour of lunch outside on his private chamber's balcony. In only a day, his daughter was to be wed to Aragorn. In his heart he felt a great cloud of foreboding, but he tried to appear as jovial as any other guest here, which he found quite difficult.
"It must be wonderful, to have your daughter married to the future king of men."
"That elf daughter of yours, the Lady Arwen, her beauty is of none of have seen."
"Arwen..."
"You..."
"The future king must be..."
The list went on and on. Elrond pounded his fist on the table in frustration, mentally thinking all of his desired responses to those questions, none of which he ever said. To only tell them his inner pain, what turmoil he felt. It was not Arwen's place here; she was never the jewel of Aragorn's affection. Legolas fully deserved that.
Damn you Galadriel! You and your prophecies! But he never doubted her for an instant.
The wind blew towards him, from the borders of a small forest nearby, and he closed his eyes, letting it sweep away his tensions, calm his soul...
"The Lady Arwen is wounded! Bring healers immediately! Help her, dammit!"
When Elrond finally reached the hall where he knew his daughter would be kept, he was out of breath from his exertion. He heard Aragorn's cry as he rode to the palace gates, and in only seconds, Elrond was racing through the labyrinth of corridors.
The door the room was open. Crowded around a bed were at least ten healers, all bustling about in almost panic. Aragorn was shouting at them, curing, yelling, and urging them to work harder and faster.
Quite a contrast to his apathy only hours before he left.
Elrond shoved through the mass of healers and made it to his daughter's bedside. What sight assaulted him there would haunt him for the rest of his life.
His daughter was gasping for breath, her eyes closed, and the pallor of her face so white she was almost transparent. Her dark hair was tangled and windblown. Elrond picked up one of her hands; her skin was clammy. Bandages wrapped all the way around her chest, almost fully soaked with blood.
Aragorn cleared his throat, turning from where he nearly backhanded a healer for dropping some of the needed herbs. "Elrond, the Lady Arwen, she was shot by a hidden bowmen. The arrow was long enough and shot fast enough to pierce her through. Whoever the attacker was did not want her death to be painless though. He shot below her heart so she would not die instantly." He paused to let this sink in before breaking the worst of the news. "And the arrow was of elvish make."
***
Legolas wanted to fall down and die. For two days he and Haldir had ridden, and Legolas did not want anything more than to sink into a pit in the ground. His friend's advances, discrete as they were, hurt. Haldir never let that flame within him die, even though Legolas gave up long ago.
Just leave me alone! I do not want you! Just because Aragorn...
I still love the man.
"Legolas come here and see what I have found!" Haldir cried from in front of him. Legolas slowed his horse and dismounted, standing now beside Haldir.
The sun was setting in the west, and facing that direction was a small pond. The sun reflected off of it, dancing along the broken surface. The sun surrounded the figure of Haldir, shining bright behind him. He was a dark spot upon it.
"This pond, I thought we could camp the night here," he said. His voice was strange, something in it Legolas had heard all too frequently. Haldir smiled warmly and approached Legolas, putting his hand on his shoulder. "You look weary; come, let's sit by the bank." Again you try, and again, you will not succeed.
Legolas complied, his mind not able to do much more than that. He knew he was walking into a trap, his emotions too fragile to help him now. Haldir, maybe I will have a flame tonight.
The older elf sat down and assisted his friend onto the grass beside him. Legolas closed his eyes, his mental weariness rushing on him like a gust of wind. He did not want to think anymore than he had. Long hours of riding provide much time to think, and Legolas had done enough of that.
"I will always be here for you, Legolas, always," Haldir confided, pulling Legolas in to lean on his shoulder. His muscles would not move away. Those words froze him into paralysis.
"I vow never to leave your side, no matter what, Legolas."
But Haldir is not supposed to say them. This is wrong; this should not be happening.
Legolas tried to regain control of his body, but his mind was too weak to comply, and his bones ached with needed comfort.
"I am sorry about what Aragorn did to you. What a filthy man he is! Humans, they are not to be trusted, ever. He only ever hurt you Legolas. It should not be that way." Haldir stroked Legolas' hair, an affectionate gesture Aragorn once used with him. His hand grazed Legolas' ear, and he flinched, enough to pull away. Only Aragorn was allowed that comfort. Haldir let his hands drop, and Legolas just stared back at him.
Haldir leaned forward until their faces were only inches apart. "Legolas, I will never harm you," he breathed, the air tickling Legolas' face. That evoked painful memories. Aragorn's breath though was sweet, soft; this was harsh. Haldir placed his hand behind Legolas' head, and they moved closer...
Legolas gasped and pulled away fast enough so their lips never met. His eyes were filled with fear, and he backed away, stumbling to get up as he did, panting hard. Haldir sat dumbstruck.
"Don't you dare," Legolas spat, once he was on his feet. Tears brimmed in his eyes, and he turned on his heel and ran.
***
Elrond would not believe what his ears told him. She was not dead. No, not his Arwen, not his only daughter. Elves should be immortal, should they not? Someone's hand came to rest on his shoulder; it was Aragorn. His eyes were glazed with water, tears Aragorn dare not shed, not just yet.
"Come, no matter how many hours you sit, she will not come back. That was a fatal wound." His voice trembled. Elrond shook his head in defiance, but Aragorn squeezed his shoulder, and Elrond felt the truth of his words.
"I...I will leave soon. Please, tell the healers to leave. I need these moments alone." He vainly tried to conceal the lump in his throat blocking most speech, but a sob came out at the end. Aragorn nodded, and as he left, a line of healers trailed behind him.
Now alone, Elrond let free the torrent of tears. He bent low, his forehead resting on Arwen's cold hand. The tears rolled down that porcelain surface, leaving little marks as they went. So many pent up years of pain, all compressed into this one moment.
"Not Arwen though, not Arwen," he sobbed. "My daughter!"
Aragorn heard Elrond's cries as he walked solemnly through the quite hall. He knew news had already reached most corners of Minas Tirith by now; the Lady Arwen was dead. The words stung at him, but Aragorn was determined to block them out until the safety of his own quarters.
His royal rooms were quite large and spacious, filled with plush furniture and soft cushions, but Aragorn took the first available place to collapse: the floor. He put his head on his hands and wept.
Arwen, she meant something to him, not to the degree that Legolas (I mustn't think of him now, I mustn't!) was, but still she was something. To loose her was a blow to him all the same.
And I saw Legolas' face.
Arwen was the only remaining person Aragorn had left. She was his one last companion, now that Legolas was gone. To loose her was to loose every link he had to life, to his sanity.
And I saw Legolas' face.
***
Do you remember the starlit nights?
We spent together
Away from strife
Do you remember the blissful days?
We spent a-roaming
My lands again
Do you still feel the caress of my warmth?
In the darkness of night
In the shadows of hate
I will never forget
I can never forget
Every memory of you is a new pain
Yet a new triumph
Every time I look
I see your face
Every plant around me
Every person I see
But can you forgive me?
Can you love again?
After all the hurt I did to you?
Are you willing?