This is the final chapter of this story! *cheers* I made it all the way through and didn't kill myself before that. I can say this was a good story to write though. Fun, for sure, as every story is. But let's stop ranting so that you can read this!
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Chapter 8: Never let go
Journal entry for September 25, 3018
Hello again, my dear friend, my confidant, the one that kept me alive when I could pour my grief onto your pages and let it wash out of me in torrents. Yes, if you must know, I have been reminiscing recently. But there is reason; it is not just me having too much time to think and wondering about the long lost past that was once reality to my hazy mind.
Sometimes, I wonder if should stop looking back that far at all. I mean, what was left of any pain is gone, just a dull ache here and there to remind me of old fires, old love. But eventually my mind can wander back, and I come to old memories deeply buried in my heartless soul, memories of when I had dreams, hopes, when there was still wonder in this world.
But that is all gone, for sure.
Oh, Legolas, stop thinking about that! That was sixty-something years back. Surely, common sense would say that my love had dwindled, that I could not recall that from my endless bank of memory. But that is the problem. Immortality holds my emotions in me, and I made promises then I have no intention of breaking. Even if the other side of the promise is a frayed rope. It can still support weight, as long as it is not broken fully. I wish I could let go, occasionally in the dark of night when I am utterly alone and the rubbing of the rope on my hand only escalates that feeling. What if I could drop away without ever turning back to see grey eyes above me, watching, waiting maybe even for my return?
But he was so close! How did he not even ask, utter one word of questioning of my condition, how I fared? But his lips were shut. Or so Haldir says.
Yes, Haldir has returned. He came about two years after Aragorn…left me, and came at random intervals from then on. And now he is back, bringing with him startling news that only makes my pain harsher.
He saw Aragorn.
When he informed me of this, my heart skipped and beat, and I pounced on him, screaming, shaking him, and forcing every bit of knowledge out of him as he tried to pry me off. He sat me down on a bench and took my hand in his, in a friendly manner, of course. Haldir had dropped his advances on me when he perceived the grief painted all over my pale face. I only treasure him more as a friend now that I do not constantly watch him for his next move.
And he began his tale.
Aragorn had come to Lothlorien. When, Haldir could not place exactly, but a while back to be certain. He was a guest in the wood, but at first, Haldir did not know it was Aragorn. He looked older, much older, worn and troubled by so much. He was ragged when he first entered the wood, haggard and no more the shining human he was. He acknowledged Haldir at least but gave no mention that I even existed. In fact, there were only a few passing words between them.
"But I watched him," Haldir assured me. "I watched his every move. Sometimes, I saw him sitting alone, gazing into the far distance, and I wondered what it was he thought about. When he did see me, I would smile, and he returned my stare with listless eyes. Legolas, he has changed. What he saw on his travels I cannot tell, but his life is no more what it was." Tears brimmed in my eyes. I could not imagine Aragorn as anything more then the almost careless human he was. When we first met—well, when we first talked to each other on somewhat understanding terms—he was simply a human, still young, but not troubled at all. Sure, there were problems, of course, his mother. Oh, I could see that that fact bothered him, his mother dead and his father slain before her. But other then that, what was there?
Still, my mind inevitably wandered back to our parting conversation, the last fight that we had between us. No home? No place could he mark as his own, no past that was clear. He had questions unanswered, questions that gnawed at him from the inside.
Could I have prevented this? Could, if I had shared my knowledge and broken that pact with my father, I have halted this departure from me? What effects would that have on us, though? My father's words sprang back to me. The only heir…the only heir…
"Legolas, I have some other news, though you are so troubled today I do not know if I should share it with you," Haldir said quietly, putting an arm around my shoulder. Without a thought, I leaned towards him.
"Haldir, it's been so long since I had a shoulder to rest on. Please, could you stay here, just a bit longer? I do not know when I shall see Aragorn again. Haldir, what were you saying earlier?" Haldir dared not trespass into my private space, but he gently held me as we sat together. He took a deep breath.
"Legolas, while I was there, and Aragorn…Arwen was also." I stiffened, my heart beating ten times faster. No, I commanded, those words will not issue from your mouth. They shall not, Haldir! I can hear your phrases now, rolling from your tongue so kindly though their strength will be with daggers.
"And I saw them in the other's company much more then I would have expected. On top of that, Aragorn, to my surprise, was on speaking terms with the Lady Arwen." My throat tightened, and breath had trouble reaching my lungs. Haldir squeezed my shoulder. I buried my face in his tunic. "Maybe I am wrong to so easily surmise from this that there is something else between them other then mutual respect, but my heart is troubled. I am sorry," he whispered. I slid under his arm and stared straight ahead, my body shaking.
"What did they appear to be?" I asked my voice breaking. "What were they like?" I screamed at him. Haldir held up his hands and I collapsed on the ground.
"Sometimes, I could see that Arwen wanted intimacy from Aragorn. And—how can I say this—he returned her advances occasionally. Legolas, she is beautiful, spoiled, yes, but beautiful. Even I have fallen prey to her beauty." I stared into Haldir's face, my mind racing, thoughts swimming through the mush that was my brain. Oh, help me, Valar! I cried out. Shakily, I got to my feet, glancing around nervously. Haldir rose to take my hand, but I shook my head.
"You lie," I spat. "You lie!" Without looking back, I fled from that place. Haldir dared not follow me.
But here I sit, a day later, in the courtyard garden with the forest to my right. Golds and reds dance across my vision as the wind strews dead leaves over the brick walkway. One lands on the page where I write. It is a deep brown, just as Aragorn's hair was. I twirl it between my fingers while I scribble in this fine hand these notes.
I have not seen Haldir since that incident, in fact. I wonder where he disappeared.
"What about me are you writing?" Haldir inquired, peeking over Legolas' shoulder. The elf prince snapped his book shut. He glowered up at Haldir, who shrugged. "Then I had no business seeing that."
"No, you didn't," Legolas retorted sourly. Haldir jumped over the bench and plopped down beside Legolas, staring in the direction of the forest. The afternoon sun blazed down on them, but it was pleasant enough, warming their backs as they sat in silence. Legolas fingered the outside of his journal at the frayed edges where age had worn it thin. This one was his third.
"Well," Haldir said, punctuating it with a cough. Legolas turned his head towards the elder elf. Haldir caught the icy eye's gaze and hastily retreated towards the woods with his eyes.
"I suppose you will return to Lothlorien soon," Legolas ventured. Haldir flashed a smile at him.
"I suppose I shall," Haldir replied. "But, if you would like for me…"
"No, you have come too often, and I myself will depart in the coming days." The elf smiled a sad smile. "My father dares not make the journey himself to Rivendell; there is need for him in these woods." Haldir nodded politely.
"So still he continues his search for the creature Gollum?"
"By word of Mithrandir, yes, he does," Legolas finished with a sigh. "Mithrandir is wise, but there is little doubt in my mind that the creature is long gone from here." Haldir arched his eyebrows but made no response. Legolas let out a long sigh. "But that is none of my business and I shall not intrude on my father's decisions."
"But you are his son…"
"Not from the way he treats me and I would rather not accept that title," Legolas retorted. They lapsed into silence. "Do you think…do you think that maybe…if I am in Rivendell…or is it too much to ask."
"You have held onto him this long. Don't desert it just so soon." Haldir patted Legolas reassuringly, producing a small smile from the elf's sad mouth. With that, Haldir rose slowly to leave the elf alone to his own thoughts. Legolas waited for him to leave before resting his head in his hands.
***
"My lord, we must depart now," an elf called to the stables. Legolas looked up from where he sat on a bale of hay. The sun was low in the sky, not yet rising; all around was the sound of birds calling to each other and the rustling of leaves in the strong autumn wind. In the stall nearest to him, he heard his horse snort.
"I am coming," Legolas grumbled. He spoke a few words in Sindarin, unlocking the stall door. His horse followed him from the stables to the main gate of the palace in Mirkwood. There was a large gathering of elves there waiting to see him and his entourage off to Imladris, where Lord Elrond summoned them for a "council of great importance." Legolas slowly mounted onto his horse. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Thranduil staring at him with indifference. He raised his hand in farewell; Legolas turned his back to his father.
With a quick word in elvish, Legolas set his horse in line with the others. They passed beneath the gate, and Legolas let out a sigh. He stared at the road in front of them, sprinkled with elves to see them departing. An image floated over the current one, basking him in evening sunlight as another procession entered the gates. Legolas knew how those souls on the sides were. But his heart was heavy and troubled. Reminiscing would only cause greater pain. He let the memory die for now. Instead, he focused on the road ahead of him, where in a month's time he would once again grace the halls of the Last Homely House.
The sun peaked and fell, the day waned, evening light spreading across the world. Night fell, the elves slept, and the sun rose again to bathe the forest in light. And so the cycle went as Legolas traveled, lost in his own world. He rarely spoke to the other elves around him in more then a few words. Too much passed through his head to understand the meaning of speech; it was a forgotten task involving too many muscles that needn't be used. Not only did he ponder the meanings behind this council but the…possibilities…in Rivendell.
Drop that subject, Legolas commanded himself. And he did.
Weeks passed. The autumn winds grew harsher, colder, blowing from the north and bringing with them frigid nights. In front of the elves, the Misty Mountains stood defiantly, the peaks stretching to the cloudy heavens above in the impossible stretch to the edge of the sky. The month changed; when the elves awoke in the mornings sometimes there would be a few flakes of snow falling from the sky to cover them and their gear in a light dusting, but by mid-morning, it was gone, leaving only overcast clouds.
And forever Legolas merely watched, not fully seeing through his eyes in his skull. The world was nothing more to him but a collage of sights, sounds, and colors, thrown together to confuse his already disturbed senses. Reality melded into shapes unknown, sprinkled with dreams and images that floated idly in his conscious. He heard someone saying something, but it was garbled speech without meaning.
The only spoken words he could understand were those that commanded him to trudge on, to go farther, the call of his destination ringing through his ears. Rivendell, Rivendell, what awaited him there? What questions and what answers would arise in those halls.
If only he could know.
***
Elrond stood in his study chambers, gazing out a window to the courtyard below. From where he stood, he had a full view of the main entrance into Rivendell from the east. He clasped his hands behind his back and let out a long sigh.
"Yes?" Gandalf wondered from behind him. The elf turned to face him. Gandalf idly flipped through some pages in a book, but now, his eyes were fixed on Elrond. Elrond turned back to the window.
"Many meetings there have been in my halls of late," Elrond began. Gandalf made an affirmative noise in the back of his throat. "Yet none…yet one meeting still waits to begin, and that meeting I fear." Behind him was the swish of a cloak. Out of the corner of his eye, Elrond glimpsed Gandalf coming to stand beside him. He trained his old eyes on the elf. "It is drawing nearer, Gandalf," Elrond announced. "It is as a wind, blowing him closer to this place where all shall come back to him in floods of feeling and understanding. But visions punctuate my dreams. I have seen them, years from now, and I dare not discuss these images for the emotions that will overtake me."
"I understand, for my heart is also troubled when I think of this. Love is a strong bond though, and in the elvish kindred it never dies, never fades. I need not explain that to you though." Elrond coughed. "And once he passes the threshold of that gate, the inevitable must happen. Let it take its course for now, friend."
Elrond did not reply. He focused his attention out onto the gate, his mind wandering through Gandalf's words again. But suddenly, the sound of horse's hooves graced his ears. He peered down and saw elves riding through the gate, one upon a white steed at their front. Elrond's heart stopped, and another vision played over reality.
Legolas rode upon a horse across plains and towards a glowing city in the distance. It was afternoon. Around him were human guards, dressed in the garb of the men of Minas Tirith. Legolas' head fell to his chest as if he could no longer carry it high, as if he had not the strength to look around him or resist this capture.
The vision changed.
Legolas walked into a cave in the mountains, his hands bound, led towards a large block in the center of the floor. A man stood beside it, an axe in one hand…
Suddenly, Legolas was upon another horse, cantering towards a forest with Aragorn behind him. They were alone on the plain with the city of Minas Tirith disappearing behind them. The sight blended until Elrond could only see the horse. It was in the forest now, alone. The horse reared and galloped away, frightened by cries in the forest…
There were Aragorn and Arwen, sitting alone now…
And suddenly there was a bow, a Mirkwood bow. It floated in a pool of blood. The blood seeped around it…
Legolas, weeping in a cell alone…
Galadriel whispered into the night, "…men still hang upon the fragility of a leaf, green now in the brightness…"
Aragorn brought his sword down upon a man with his axe raised, Legolas helpless on the ground below them…
A clearing filled his mind. It was nighttime, and only a few leaves stirred. A fire burned, and beside it were two unmoving shapes…
"Elrond?" Gandalf questioned. Elrond shook his head to clear it. Legolas and the entourage from Rivendell were gone from his sigh. He turned his head towards Gandalf. The wizard frowned. "Would…"
"No," Elrond whispered. He put his head in his hands and groped for the nearest chair, which he sank in to. "Do not make me look back on that. I fear that the meeting to take place…this evening shall be one of fatal consequences." Gandalf turned from the distraught elf, his brow creased in though, not giving an answer to those heavy words.
***
"Elladan, Elrohir, oh this is indeed a fine day. How are you?" Legolas called to the elvin twins approaching him where he groomed his horse. A bit of the elf's apathy had dwindled from him. There was much for him to do, even if he was separate from the world and unable to keep himself steady in the fragile confines of reality. He handed his horse over to a stable hand and approached the brothers.
"Prince Legolas," Elrohir said with a grin. They pretended to bow as one, but could not help themselves. Legolas soon found himself in the embrace of both, a small smile on his face.
"It has been so long!" Elladan cried. He broke away, a wide grin on his face. Legolas gave a little chuckle. Elrohir held him again.
"We have missed you, little prince," Elrohir said. "But ever since you refused our invites to Rivendell to stay for a while…"
"There was business in Mirkwood," Legolas replied hastily, working himself out of that corner. He coughed and started to walk away, towards the buildings across the courtyard.
"Business that occupied how many years?" Elladan countered as the elves ran to catch up with Legolas. Legolas did not respond. "Oh, Legolas, what was it that drove you away from here? Surely we are not that repulsive are we, being merely half-elvin folk unlike you, oh great prince?" Legolas forced out a laugh at his title.
They passed by a fountain, merrily shooting up water. Elladan and Elrohir chatted to Legolas, who barely responded to them. Though somewhere in his heart was joy at the sigh of these brothers, the cloud of darkness hung low over him. He stared into the fountain at the reflections. There he was, pale, his face sunken, his eyes listless. The brothers had stepped out of his vision now. And behind him was nothing, nothing at all but one building.
But Legolas caught movement in the water. He stiffened, for on the building behind him a figure appeared, staring over the railing of the second storey. Legolas cursed his elvish eyesight over and over in his mind. He whirled around, but when he turned, the figure was gone, disappearing down a corridor and out of sight. Legolas took a step towards the building, follow his feet's will. He mouthed words that he did not understand himself.
"Legolas, are you all right?" Elrohir wondered. Legolas stopped in his tracks to face the elf behind him. "Legolas, you look troubled. What's wrong with you?" Legolas shook his head with a smile.
"Nothing is wrong, Elrohir," he said. "Nothing at all is wrong, so do not fear for me. Nothing…" Legolas' voice dwindled. "I should be getting to my rooms now, to clean myself up. Is there to be a dinner tonight, a feast? Oh, yes, I must get ready for that," he announced cheerfully. He briskly made his away from the twins and around the bend.
Only there did Legolas let his emotions take hold. Without pausing, he charged headlong into the guest quarters and towards his room. He fumbled with the door and threw it open. How long had it been since he lost him composure this badly? How long since he was not able to control himself. Legolas did not want to think back that far.
But surely, his eyes did not deceive him. That figure on the rail, watching him; it was so familiar. The face, the hair, the stance, and all conjured images that Legolas thought he would rather leave untouched though they came back to him every so often.
The prince finally took some deep breaths and found some semblance of calm. Slowly, he sat down at the desk in the room overlooking a stream beneath. The sun was bright outside and clear. Around Legolas, the golden brown leaves swiveled on their branches, threatening to break and spill onto the marble floor of his room. One drifted lazily past his ear. Birds played outside, swooping and dancing. High in the sky others flew towards the winter resting places.
But Legolas sat in a bubble, untouched by the beauty of the world. He stifled a sob once, but only once; he only had energy for that. All of the worries and fears from before, everything he had considered on the journey from Mirkwood, all came back to him in one great wave. It was impossible to prevent these tears. His muscles gave in, and the elf fell onto the desk weeping.
***
Legolas was the first to sneak away from the merrymaking that night in the halls of Rivendell. He slipped from the door out to the covered walks, letting the night chill embrace him. It grazed his feelings but left him unharmed from its frigid teeth. Without a sound, he made his way down the walkway towards his rooms, the only haven for him here and the only place he could sit alone for hours and ponder the new name thrown into the pot of confusion that was his mind.
Strider.
He was a mysterious Ranger from the north, one of the Dúnedain, just as Aragorn claimed to be. No one much knew anything about him, just that he used Rivendell occasionally as a place he could rests and remain for weeks on end. And he had traveled widely across all of Middle-Earth, an enigma to all who saw him. Tall, strong of bearing, though he never said much and did not often talk of his exploits, as if looking back on anything was painful for him. He had been in that hall when Legolas was. But Legolas could not find him, could never meet his eyes.
"A Dúnedain," Legolas mused. "A Ranger from the north, mysterious, lost…never lingering in one place for long, oh what am I trying to do?" Linking him to Aragorn, Legolas knew, was not hard, but it would only be his mind wishing too much for the man to return.
"Why am I running?" Legolas wondered. "Why am I running when you could be so close?" Because I am afraid, he answered. I fear to see his eyes without love, his mirthless face, his grin just for me. I fear to lose his kiss and his touch and his gentle words. I fear to lose them more then I have now.
Suddenly, Legolas began to hum a tune, an old tune from a faraway day. Words flowed into his head, blending, fixing themselves into the melody, twisting around the sorrowful notes. In a whispered voice, Legolas began to sing:
Strider, oh Strider, Ranger from the North
Who has ridden so many untrod upon paths
And whose tears he no longer lets fall
From the grey eyes that once were so free
Oh where has that face gone?
Where is the long lost love?
The love that once kept me alive
The love that I treasured with all of my heart…
A sound made Legolas stop, for he heard far off, in a courtyard below him, an answering voice, deep, but melodic, a human's voice for sure. He found a set of stairs and followed the sound, walking across the moonlit stones and through an archway.
Fair voice on the wind, I hear your tears
From the eyes of silvery blue
And as the wind sends up the tresses of your hair…
The voice faded away, choked by an audible sob. Legolas took a few faltering steps forward, unable to help himself. In the shade of a tree, he saw a lone figure, standing, waiting for him. The outline of a human was just visible to Legolas in the darkness. He stepped forward, his legs shaking, barely able to support his weight. His throat tightened, and Legolas could barely breathe as the figure stepped forward. He stumbled the rest of the distance between them and fell into the waiting arms, his whole body shaking. He felt cold inside, cold all over except where the man held him, and there was warmth, light. He pressed himself closer to that body and cried uncontrollably, as he had the day that this man left him alone in the world.
"Don't leave me," Legolas sobbed. "Don't leave me. Don't leave me. Don't leave me!" The man stroked his hair and cradled Legolas to him, almost crushing the elf in the embrace. He couldn't help himself; tears flowed down his worn cheeks from his eyes, tears he kept hidden for so many long years alone. He lifted up Legolas' head and looked into the elf's eyes. And Legolas stared in wonder at the figure in front of him. How worn he looked, with his cheeks sunken in, and his eyes so troubled. When he smiled, it appeared to be a foreign thing to him.
"My elf," he muttered, squeezing Legolas and pressing his lips against his. Legolas closed his eyes and let out a sob. Those lips…those lips…it was like the sweetest drink passing down his throat. His tears slowly abated as they kissed, separating only because the man needed air. He took a breath before showering Legolas in kisses, running his hands along the pale skin just to make sure it was real.
"Oh, Aragorn, oh Estel…Strider…whoever you are!" Legolas cried as he traced the man's face, feeling of the rough skin and the traces of hair. Suddenly, all the years of waiting were nothing, dissipated in the face of this man. Aragorn smiled. With a shaking hand, he wiped away Legolas' tears.
"You still love…" Legolas silence him with a kiss.
"An elf's love never dies," Legolas reminded him. He wrapped his arms around the man and rested his head on the strong chest. "No matter what pain there is between that. The span of years is nothing to me and nothing to you, I see." Aragorn put his head on the top of Legolas' hair.
"I am sorry," Aragorn whispered. "I should not have run…run from you…but there were questions…"
"Do you have answers?" Aragorn lifted up Legolas' head, a smile playing across his face.
"I have answers."
And there, until morning, in that garden they remained. In the shade of the tree they sat, conversing with each other, weeping, laughing. Yet never did anger seep into them, only regret and sorrow. Aragorn had answers, and answers suitable for him. And Legolas listened and poured out his own tale to the man. Day came, showering them in sunlight and the two returned to Legolas' room for some rest before the council that afternoon. In the process, they never were more then a foot away from each other and always connected somehow. They fell upon the sheets and slept peacefully as neither had done for a long count of years.
The council of Elrond came and went. The Ring revealed itself to the world. Much to Aragorn's dismay, though he would not press it, Legolas joined the quest. Legolas defended his ground simply.
"It gives us time to catch up."
And it did. They journeyed and loved, never fully apart. They were lovers reunited after too many long years apart. The quest went about its course. Battles were fought, lost, and won. Men perished, brought down by the might of Sauron. And Legolas and Aragorn…well, they stood true by each other, companions, fighting side by side in battle, friends, confidents…and lovers all the while.
The rest…is history.
~The End~
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And it is only fitting that while I wrote the ending I was listening to "Into the West." *cries*
A happy ending for once. I think that this might be the first one that I wrote. It isn't the last though. Don't worry, Legsie and Nature Boy won't always be sad. But in truth, this is not the end. There is still "Prophecies and Convictions." I have that one finished already, and it's posted. Hehehe…wrote it before I wrote the prequel.
I hope you liked this story! Now, if you want to find out the rest of it, go read the sequel! *shoos readers* Go, read, go!
And review too!
{~.^}