Teardrop
Autumn. The leaves swirled around in frenzied patterns, brittle and brown. A powerful bloody sun flamed across the sky.
In the great emptiness of an open pavilion, a stone pedestal bore the body of Gondor's deceased King.
In the distance from the secluded coffin, a slender figure upon his horse advanced slowly, the rhythmic clip-clop of hooves soothing his tired and aching heart. He had ridden for eight days. Eight days after the death of Aragorn.
Upon reaching the grave, he gave a slight pull of the reins. The animal beneath him stopped immediately. He gently let go of the reins and dismounted his horse gracefully, leaving the animal to graze on what minimal grass was left on the ground. Slowly, he approached the man resting peacefully upon the stone surface. White rose petals were strewn about the motionless figure.
Slowly, Legolas Greenleaf pulled back his hood and bowed his head, eyes closed.
Elves never cry, he told himself. Never do they weep, never do they shed a single tear.
No matter what he was to see, he would restrain himself from being emotionally flooded. He would remain silent.
Legolas opened his eyes.
Before him lay a tall yet slight man. His hair was mostly soft silver with the occasional handsome black streak running through. His face, the exquisite face Legolas had turned to countless times, was utterly serene, etched by faint lines of age around the mouth and across the forehead. His eyelids hid the intelligent grey-green orbs Legolas would never again peer into. He was garbed in the traditional Gondorian armor, the white Tree breastplate gleaming coolly in the dying sunlight. His great sword Anduril lay in his folded hands.
Aragorn, even in death do you take my breath away. Even when you no longer breathe, the sight of you inspires me and overwhelms me. You give me courage, you give me strength. You give me hope, for that is what you are. Estel, the last remaining hope.
You and I developed a curious friendship, one of silent battles and sly glances. You earned my respect as a man - you suffered humility and anguish and loss. You persisted, strong and unrelenting. You never gave up. You never faltered like everybody else. For that, I never understood you completely, Aragorn. But it did not matter as long as you were with me.
So many times was our friendship tested in hardship and cruelty. So many times I lost my patience with you and thought myself to be right. Yet it was you who always turned out to be on top. You gave me reason to trust you. Where you developed this immeasurable wisdom I do not know. But Aragorn, oh, the times you've been at my side...
You fought alongside me infinite times. You and I exchanged silent glances so often our minds were almost threaded together in instinct. Although we did not always speak much to each other, you were always there. You were security and intelligence.
But fate has a wicked sense of humor, Aragorn. It leaves me standing here, thousands of years old, unscathed from illness or battle. Fate has led you to leave this world, to only remain as a physical shell. I see your beautiful face, but I know you are gone.
Fear not, Estel. You picked up your city well. The people are thriving. They mourn for you, but they are alive and flourishing. Your son, who has your integrity and ambition, rules with a stern hand. He is a good leader. You have accomplished your destiny, Aragorn. You have restored Gondor.
But for me, there is a terrible emptiness inside. I cannot stay in Middle Earth longer, because without you, there is nothing here anymore. At last, I shall let the Sea bear me away.
I love you, Aragorn, as a friend and a brother. I shall never lay eyes upon your body again, but there is no need to. You are a part of me. I will not forget you for as long as I exist.
Farewell, Aragorn. Long may your people cherish your bravery and your goodness.
Slowly, Legolas removed his bow and quiver from his back. Gently, lovingly, he bent down and laid the weapons beside Aragorn's grave. He ran his fingers over the cool ivory one last time before uprighting himself.
Legolas leaned over and brushed Aragorn's brow with his lips. As he did so, a single clear teardrop spilled from his eye and splashed down upon Aragorn's hollow cheekbone.
Legolas turned around and walked slowly to his horse, not looking back. He sprang up lightly upon the beast's great back and with a squeeze of his legs, the animal began to trot forward. The horse and rider rode into the sunset, where the Great Sea awaited Legolas.
Autumn. The leaves swirled around in frenzied patterns, brittle and brown. A powerful bloody sun flamed across the sky.
In the great emptiness of an open pavilion, a stone pedestal bore the body of Gondor's deceased King.
In the distance from the secluded coffin, a slender figure upon his horse advanced slowly, the rhythmic clip-clop of hooves soothing his tired and aching heart. He had ridden for eight days. Eight days after the death of Aragorn.
Upon reaching the grave, he gave a slight pull of the reins. The animal beneath him stopped immediately. He gently let go of the reins and dismounted his horse gracefully, leaving the animal to graze on what minimal grass was left on the ground. Slowly, he approached the man resting peacefully upon the stone surface. White rose petals were strewn about the motionless figure.
Slowly, Legolas Greenleaf pulled back his hood and bowed his head, eyes closed.
Elves never cry, he told himself. Never do they weep, never do they shed a single tear.
No matter what he was to see, he would restrain himself from being emotionally flooded. He would remain silent.
Legolas opened his eyes.
Before him lay a tall yet slight man. His hair was mostly soft silver with the occasional handsome black streak running through. His face, the exquisite face Legolas had turned to countless times, was utterly serene, etched by faint lines of age around the mouth and across the forehead. His eyelids hid the intelligent grey-green orbs Legolas would never again peer into. He was garbed in the traditional Gondorian armor, the white Tree breastplate gleaming coolly in the dying sunlight. His great sword Anduril lay in his folded hands.
Aragorn, even in death do you take my breath away. Even when you no longer breathe, the sight of you inspires me and overwhelms me. You give me courage, you give me strength. You give me hope, for that is what you are. Estel, the last remaining hope.
You and I developed a curious friendship, one of silent battles and sly glances. You earned my respect as a man - you suffered humility and anguish and loss. You persisted, strong and unrelenting. You never gave up. You never faltered like everybody else. For that, I never understood you completely, Aragorn. But it did not matter as long as you were with me.
So many times was our friendship tested in hardship and cruelty. So many times I lost my patience with you and thought myself to be right. Yet it was you who always turned out to be on top. You gave me reason to trust you. Where you developed this immeasurable wisdom I do not know. But Aragorn, oh, the times you've been at my side...
You fought alongside me infinite times. You and I exchanged silent glances so often our minds were almost threaded together in instinct. Although we did not always speak much to each other, you were always there. You were security and intelligence.
But fate has a wicked sense of humor, Aragorn. It leaves me standing here, thousands of years old, unscathed from illness or battle. Fate has led you to leave this world, to only remain as a physical shell. I see your beautiful face, but I know you are gone.
Fear not, Estel. You picked up your city well. The people are thriving. They mourn for you, but they are alive and flourishing. Your son, who has your integrity and ambition, rules with a stern hand. He is a good leader. You have accomplished your destiny, Aragorn. You have restored Gondor.
But for me, there is a terrible emptiness inside. I cannot stay in Middle Earth longer, because without you, there is nothing here anymore. At last, I shall let the Sea bear me away.
I love you, Aragorn, as a friend and a brother. I shall never lay eyes upon your body again, but there is no need to. You are a part of me. I will not forget you for as long as I exist.
Farewell, Aragorn. Long may your people cherish your bravery and your goodness.
Slowly, Legolas removed his bow and quiver from his back. Gently, lovingly, he bent down and laid the weapons beside Aragorn's grave. He ran his fingers over the cool ivory one last time before uprighting himself.
Legolas leaned over and brushed Aragorn's brow with his lips. As he did so, a single clear teardrop spilled from his eye and splashed down upon Aragorn's hollow cheekbone.
Legolas turned around and walked slowly to his horse, not looking back. He sprang up lightly upon the beast's great back and with a squeeze of his legs, the animal began to trot forward. The horse and rider rode into the sunset, where the Great Sea awaited Legolas.