Cry
By: Max Pilote
Chapter Three – Shatter Me
The last few days had been very trying on the dwarf and elf. Gimli found himself crying often as of late. The emotion of Aragorn's death weighed heavily on his heart. He looked up at his elven friend who stood tall and proud against the small breeze as the funeral began to draw to a close. The elf wore a resolute expression, his eyes revealing nothing of his emotions.
Legolas's ever youthful smile had faded when his old friend had taken his final breath. When his smile faded, it took the rest of his emotions with it. Not even a shadow of sorrow glazed the prince's eyes as he spent the last few days, helping Arwen tend to the duties of the king's burial. Gimli hated to admit it, but it looked as though Legolas didn't even care.
As the funeral ended and all the mourners trudged their way back their daily routines, Legolas removed himself from the crowd and went to his room. After changing from his ceremony robes into a more comfortable jade green tunic and dark brown leggings, he emerged from the room to find Gimli waiting for him at the door.
"Is something troubling you, mellon nin?" asked the elf, noting the concerned look on the dwarf's face.
"Ai, there is," answered Gimli with a frown. "I am worried for you, Legolas. It is not healthy to conceal your emotions. It is all right for you to shed a few tears. I understand how you feel."
A bit of anger flashed in Legolas's eyes, the only emotion which the dwarf had seen for days.
"You couldn't possibly understand how I feel, dwarf," said Legolas coldly. "I don't understand this thing...this death. I don't understand why everyone dies but I have to keep living! I've lived through the death of my mother, my wife, my son, and now one of my closest friends. How much longer until you, too, leave? Answer that question! How much longer until time slowly wears you down?"
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Legolas awoke with the crack of thunder. He had fallen asleep in the tree a few hours before sunset. A storm was coming, the thunder and strong winds waking the elf up. He climbed down from the tree and went inside just as the rain began to pour down from the sky.
He could feel all the sadness, all the pain, just building up inside him. It was like water pressing against a dam that just refused to break.
"I am jealous of you," he whispered to the sky, "for you shed the tears that I cannot."
Legolas turned and walked into Elrond's study, where he and Estel had spent countless nights plotting, scheming, or simply talking. These were the moments he treasured, but they caused so much pain. The prince sat in the overstuffed chair placed nearest to the window. He watched as the storm's darkness fell over the land, much like the shadow of sorrow over his heart.
Lightning lit up the sky periodically, thunder shaking the window pane. The trees blew violently in the wind. The weather was wearing down the last bits of tangible elven beauty left in the abandoned haven.
Across from where he was sitting, Legolas looked at the small stool near the bookshelf. Almost as if the human was actually there, he could see a four-year old Estel sitting there with a heavy book in his lap. So sweet, so innocent...it was such a shame that it all ended.
The rain was heavy, but its steady beat upon the window threatened to put him into a light sleep. Actually, he was on the verge of letting it when he heard soft footsteps. As he had before when Rymir was coming down the hallway, the elf froze. He could distinguish between Rymir's footsteps and anyone else's.
He didn't sense any danger, though.
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Gimli found Legolas sitting in the windowsill of the library, staring out at the sky.
"Legolas?" he asked softly, not wanting to intrude on the elf if he was not wanted there.
He turned to Gimli and gave him an almost unnoticeable smile, "I apologize for snapping at you earlier. This has all been wearing my emotions very thin."
The dwarf smiled and waved off the apology. "We all choose to deal with our emotions differently. If you do not wish to show them, that is your choice."
"Do you think that Estel will be disappointed in me?"
"Not at all, lad," replied Gimli. "He was your friend and I am sure that he understands whatever you choose to do."
Legolas looked up at Gimli, "I really miss him."
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A young boy stood in the doorway. His dark shining eyes and wild dark hair was so familiar to him.
"E-Estel?" asked the elf, not really believing his eyes.
"I couldn't leave without helping you one last time," said the boy, smiling his bright youthful smile.
Legolas laughed and turned back to the window. "I don't need help with anything," he said.
"Do you really believe that?"
With Estel, or his spirit at least, standing before him, the prince was forced to confront his emotions now. Everything he had been refusing to show was now pressing against the emotional dam he had built up, trying their hardest to break it.
Estel crossed the room and stood in front of Legolas, "It's all right to cry now, Legolas. No one is going to know but me...and you."
"*Ir tírach nîr nîn, carin thia-ú-bell?" whispered the prince in response, looking into the eyes of his friend. (*"If I cry, will you think less of me?" It had to be changed to, "When you see my weeping, do I seem weak?")
The boy chuckled and took Legolas's hand in his own. "**Carithach ir carithin?" answered Estel with his own question. (**I had meant for this to say, "Would you if I did?". Literally, though, and it makes me laugh, it means "will do-you when do-I?" Or, changed a little, "Will you do when I do?")