Color of Distress
Disclaimer – Lord of the Rings and anything in it does not belong to me. The end.
Chapter 13 – "Gone"
Gimli paused in his fight long enough to notice that Legolas was exchange blows almost distractedly, like he was lost in deep thoughts. He personally put every bit of concentration he had into fighting, and resolved to tease Legolas about it if he was injured. But only if the elf had a minor injury would it still be fair to make fun of him.
Gimli, from the corner of his eye, saw an orc swing at him, and was once again completely engrossed in his battles and promptly forgot his hurried thoughts about his friend.
There was a loud ripping noise, and Gimli turned his head to see Legolas slashing through the back of an orc's amour with both of his knives. Gimli whistled in appreciation, and marveled that he really knew so little about Legolas. For instance, he could be so brutal and unmerciful when it was the elf's nature to normally be so gentle and kind.
Legolas took a slight step back to avoid the splatter of blood from the orc, and lunged again at a second one, searching it's dull eyes briefly before thrusting the knife through him. Legolas remembered once where he could not bring himself to hurt or kill the smallest creature, but now, it was like his father once had told him. It was his duty to be a prince and a warrior, and like it or not, his heart would eventually harden towards the bloodshed and death.
But he never said I would become this indifferent to it. But did I to feel pity towards one not ten minutes ago? What has changed in ten minutes?
Legolas, tiring of his knives, snatched up some arrows from the bodies of orcs and began firing them again in succession, carefully making sure Gimli was not being overwhelmed in the midst of the orcs he now fought.
Nothing has changed. I was fighting then, and I am still fighting now. But something has changed. Why do I not care that these lives are being wasted?
Legolas took his last arrow and aimed it at an orc running towards Gimli from behind, one that he had not yet noticed. He loosened the arrow and it sang as it flew into the side of the orcs neck. It dropped abruptly, and Gimli was none the wiser.
You must think that orcs do not matter.
He took out his knives again, and threw one far that stuck another orc. Legolas looked around. None remained, and Gimli finished his last one as well. Legolas removed his knife from the orc and wiped it clean on the grass before sheathing it.
"Exhilarating, isn't it?" Gimli snorted. "I thought they would just keep coming." He nudged a body out of his way with the tip of his boot.
Legolas bent over to pull an arrow from another body, and placed it in his quiver. He repeated this several times until his quiver was full again. "Does it matter?"
"Does what matter?" Gimli said distractedly as they began to move back towards the camp.
"These lives. There must have been close to fifty orcs here, and we slew them all. But they were living creatures, too, like us. Did their lives really matter so little that the two of us could dispose of them like that?" Legolas said, looking intently ahead.
"They mattered not at all to Saruman." Gimli replied. "All the same, did the lives of the dwarves in Moria mean anything to orcs there? Obviously not."
"I think…" Legolas faltered, feeling a bit embarrassed. His idea was childish until the point of naiveté, and he was sure that Gimli would roar with laughter after hearing it. "I think that the orcs could have been a race on middle earth. Well, they are a race, but one not so reviled by the others. Perhaps… if they were not bred to destroy and hate everything, they might have lived alongside us just as any other race does now. They might have been able to live normally, have cities and customs just like we do. Do you think me foolish? For I think the lives of the orcs should matter."
"I think you are drunk to think like that." Gimli said, biting back a grin because he knew that Legolas was at least half serious about his speech. "And I also think you are completely mad."
"Well, you are probably justified in saying that. I do not know why this troubled me so. But we are not yet in a war, and in war, I do not think it would matter so much to me, whether an orc is dead or not." Legolas said, smiling slightly. But something was troubling him beyond their conversation and his ill-feeling which he had told Aragorn of. There was something more, something nagging at him in a corner of his mind.
Legolas thought back, and tried to remember what he was thinking about while he fought the orcs, until it struck him like a clap of thunder.
You must think that orcs do not matter.
It had addressed him. He did not think it. It was spoken to him. And he hadn't noticed it in the heat of the fight.
Legolas slowed down his brisk walking pace until he stopped completely. Tremors ran through him, and he broke out in a cold sweat. He knew the voice had not yet been completely defeated, yet he was utterly unprepared for its return, and was recovering from his last encounter with it.
"Legolas?" Gimli stopped next to him. "Why are we halting?"
He was afraid, yet Thranduil told him to be brave. It was not yet menacing, and made only a plain statement. And so far, it has made only one statement. Still…
"Legolas." Gimli reached up and patted the elf's arm, waiting for a reaction.
The elf stirred from his frozen state and stared down at Gimli, then squeezing his eyes shut, and opening them again. "It came back." He said leadenly, and from Gimli's expression, he understood immediately.
Gimli now stood silently, thinking hard. "We cannot let this voice carry on a conversation to you. Especially not now." He said firmly. "There are orcs we have not yet slain probably off fighting with Boromir and Aragorn and the hobbits, and we should be hurrying there. We will have none of this voice nonsense. Here, lean down, Legolas, I will help you."
Legolas had no idea what Gimli was doing, but obediently leaned down for him. Gimli began loudly shouting into his ear. Legolas tried jerking away, but Gimli clamped down on his shoulders and hollered merrily away.
"Hey, hey! Villainous voice, hear me!" he said pompously. " I am Gimli, son of Gloin, and friend to Legolas of Mirkwood, whose head you now inhabit. Stop your rude and untimely conversation with Legolas, because he's a busy elf and has much more to do than listen to your foolish words all day. So stay silent!"
Legolas finally got away and held a hand to his ear. "I was not deaf before," he muttered, rubbing his ear. "But I am now." Yet he smiled at Gimli and they began jogging in the direction of their camp.
Legolas was grateful to Gimli, whose humorous antics made him feel less worried about the voice. And he knew the less he thought about it, the less it would trouble him, and the less chance it would make him do something harmful again. Being light-hearted and merry also made him worry less, but Legolas was always conscience of the fact it did not diminish the voice's dangerous persuasion.
But as his worry about the voice lessened, his nameless apprehension began to grow. And as they approached the first dead orc strewn along the path, his apprehension peaked. Something was terribly wrong, and a heavy silence hung in the air.
Legolas began to run ahead of Gimli, unconsciously taking out his bow and an arrow. He passed by a gruesome sight, an orc, much larger and fouler looking than the rest, lay dismembered, it's blood seeping into the roots of the tree where it lay. The sound of quiet words being exchanged reached his ears, and his own quick breathing now punctuated the silence. Legolas slowed down and began walking slowly towards Aragorn's voice, fearing what awaited him.
He moved past a tree, and another one, his anxiety growing as he did, and was first blinded by sunlight before he saw what was before him. Legolas blinked and looked down.
Several orc arrows protruded from Boromir's clothing, and he lay on the grass, grey as death, struggling for breath as he spoke hoarsely with Aragorn. Legolas very much wanted to look away, repelled by the scene, yet was perversely drawn to watch it.
Boromir is dying.
Boromir will be dead.
He will not be there with us tomorrow in Mordor.
The dead cannot travel.
We should have already left.
He heard Gimli come up and stand a bit behind him. Legolas turned around briefly and cast Gimli a somber look, but his voice was cracked and disbelieving.
"He is dying." Legolas whispered, and his eyes mirrored Gimli's shock and pain. "Gone."
He watched as the two men continued to talk solemnly for a while more, until Boromir lay silent. Aragorn closed his eyes and bowed his head, and placed his hand on Boromir's head in parting. Then he stood, appearing to be dazed, but shook it off.
Then the three stood, looking round at each other mutely, feeling tears prickle at their eyes. Confusion, sadness, and a lingering disbelief still lined their faces heavily, but no one wept.
Gimli, clearing his throat, broke the quiet. "Where are the hobbits?" he asked gruffly.
"Merry and Pippin have been captured by the uruk-hai." Aragorn replied, reverting back to his usual, business-like tone of voice. "Sam and Frodo…"
Legolas looked past him and saw the bushes on the far side of the Anduin rustle, yet there was no wind. "They have reached the eastern shore." He looked back at them. "We still can catch up."
"No. Frodo has decided to go alone, and we will respect that." Aragorn said. "But there is more we must do now. Merry and Pippin will not suffer long under the harsh tempers of the orcs, will they?"
"And Boromir?" Gimli managed to voice was Legolas could not.
"There is no time for us to dig a grave, nor build a pyre for a large fire." Aragorn said, staring out at the Anduin. "We'll place him in a boat and let the river take him over the falls." He said finally.
The three gently lifted his body into the canoe, where Legolas carefully removed the offending arrows. They removed the leaves from his hair, washed the dirt from his face, and placed his sword, shield and horn into the canoe with him. They then pushed the canoe out towards the thundering waterfall, and stood as they watched it travel towards the edge.
The fellowship has progressed from nine to eight, and now has broken into several pieces. I can only wish that the three of us will remain true.
Aragorn lifted his eyes to the falls of Rauros, and began to sing in a low voice.
"Through
Rohan over fen and field where the long grass
grows
The West Wind comes walking, and about the walls it
goes.
'What news from the West, O wandering wind, do you
bring to me tonight?
Have you seen Boromir the Tall by moon or by starlight?'
'I saw him ride over seven streams, over waters wide
and grey;
I saw him walk in empty lands, until he passed away
Into the shadows of the North. I saw him then no more.
The North Wind may have heard the horn of the son of
Denethor.'
'O Boromir! From the high walls westward I looked
afar,
But you came not from the empty lands where no men
are."
Aragorn sang the lines with a steady voice, yet one that became heavier with grief after each word. And now Legolas began to sing as well, gazing out at the river.
"From the
mouths of the Sea the South Wind flies, from
the sandhills and the stones;
The wailing of the gulls it bears, and at the gate it
moans.
'What news from the South, O sighing wind, do you bring
to me at eve?
Where now is Boromir the Fair? He tarries and I grieve.'
'Ask not of me where he doth dwell -- so many bones
there lie
On the white shores and the dark shores under the
stormy sky;
So many have passed down Anduin to find the flowing
Sea.
Ask of the North Wind news of them the North Wind
sends to me!'
'O Boromir! Beyond the gate the seaward road runs
south,
But you came not with the ailing gulls from the grey
sea's mouth."
His clear voice rang about them, but his tone was melancholy. Legolas had felt nothing but suspicion for Boromir in his last hours, and now he wished that he hadn't. Aragorn began the song again.
"From the
Gate of Kings the North Wind rides, and past
the roaring falls;
And clear and cold about the tower its loud horn calls.
'What news from the North, O mighty wind, do you
bring to me today?
What news of Boromir the Bold? For he is long away.'
'Beneath Amon Hen I heard his cry. There many foes he
fought.
His cloven shield, his broken sword, they do the water
brought.
His head so proud, his face so fair, his limbs they laid
to rest;
And Rauros, golden Rauros-falls, bore him upon its
breast.'
'O Boromir! The Tower of Guard shall ever northward
gaze
To Rauros, golden Rauros-falls, until the end of days."
Aragorn and Legolas looked together towards Gimli expectantly, waiting for him to begin. Gimli shook his head and coughed loudly for a moment.
"I will not sing of the east wind." Gimli said distantly. "I mourn for Boromir, but I will not sing."
Not finding the energy to argue with him, they accepted this with a nod. And, as if the funeral had never happened, the three began packing up, preparing to quickly leave in search of Merry and Pippin.
To be continued…
Well, there you have it. Boromir is gone, they felt sad, gave him a nice funeral, and are about to run a huge marathon. I hadn't dwelled much on their reactions to Boromir's death, but it's something that will come, I think, next week. And I've realized I hadn't acknowledged Boromir's funeral song. But the three verses above are entirely the works of JRR Tolkien, and are not mine. I kind of wish they sang this in the movie, and even though I didn't like Boromir much, it was touching to realize how much care they took with his funeral. Alright, so Legolas and Gimli didn't interact all that much with Boromir, but he was still part of the fellowship, and I suppose they had their moments. I feel sad. Poor Boromir. Poor Legolas. Poor everyone.
Thanks to the nice people called "the people who so kindly review because they are good and righteous people." You now all have an official title. Thanks to: Wandering-Ranger, Imirie , Merrylyn, WJO, Houki, Musicgrl, Purple, legolasffreeeek, Silent Angel, MiriGreenleaf, Andravix, and Casssandra
Soulsearcher-Abariel – He is so completely jealous. Just because Boromir has to be sweaty and dirty and beardly and dead doesn't mean he has to be jealous of Legolas who is not sweaty, gorgeous, clean-shaven, and immortal.
Erhothwen – He looked liked a lost little kid in that scene you're talking about. But as much as I dislike him, I think he redeemed himself in the end, although the nasty uruk-hais got Merry and Pippin anyway.
Somethingsinthebasement – I had a heck of a time typing out your name. I kept putting spaces between the words and … well, pretty dumb of me. Anyways. Boromir DID suspect, but Boromir never got to confirm his suspicions. Oh well, he can't have it all.
Dream Keeper - *continuing the million thank yous* Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you. Wow. Not bad, considering I didn't cut and paste. You've been awesome with all the help! Thank you!
Lady-Daine – I can't imagine how my physics teacher will react if a voice starting taunting the textbook. I'd bet he'd calculate the frequency and wavelength of the voice and make a lesson out of it. *shudders* I won't think about physics anymore. I just had a test, and…. Errghhh…. And as for the Catcher in the Rye… well, to each his own. I couldn't stand reading that book. Too many "phonies" and "damns" in it. ^_^
Torture_the_elf – I can't kill Legolas off!! It would go against every fibre in my person to kill him off. I couldn't. I wouldn't be able to write the words. Anyhoo, I don't have any other fics, but I am thinking of starting another soon.
Well, that's Chapter 13. Until the next chapter, then!