Last Stand

by Mirrordance

Concluded! The battle at the Black Gate leaves Legolas strange wounds that do not heal. He knows he is slowly dying & keeps it a secret, as he tours the fleeting mortal pleasures of the world before his last breath.

7. Strider: A Memory continued

Author: Mirrordance

Title: Last Stand

Summary: The battle at the Black Gate leaves Legolas strange wounds that do not heal. He knows he is slowly dying & keeps it a secret, as he tours the fleeting mortal pleasures of the world before his last breath. He finds an unwilling coconspirator in Eomer

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7: Strider: A Memory II

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Outskirts of Bree, 2953

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      The Rangers left the town some hours ahead of the contingent of elves that Legolas commanded, who waited for the recovery of their comrade.  It is in this way that they avoided the storm that hit the Rangers, a sizeable horde of orcs that struck them along their road.

      The elves broke into the wood, finding bodies strewn left and right, orc and adan, dead, dying and grieving.  The battle seemed to be well into its tail end, and though Legolas and his subordinates dismounted their horses with great urgency and weapons raised and ready, they never got to use them.

      Legolas stood amidst the carnage, his eyes darting from one corner of the fading melee to another, and finally rested on the familiar sight of Estel.

      The man was cradling one of his own troops, whose body was limp though his eyes were afire, holding true to Estel's lonely stare.  Legolas averted his eyes, and wished he could shut his ears.  It was not his moment to share.  He was some intruder who had walked into sights and words that were not his to take.

      "You should not have taken a strike meant for me," Estel was telling the man fervently just under his breath, "I can promise you nothing…"

      "And you needn't," the weak voice replied, "My lord… you are the promise.  By the very truth that you are here…" his voice shook, as his body shuddered with the last of his strength and breath, "I can still see our kingdoms standing in your eyes.  I've long fought to reclaim our lands, my lord… but in this last act of mine that kept you standing, that kept you fighting… I know I've succeeded at last.  My King."

      ~You've a way with the athelas,~ Legolas commented, ~I'm surprised you've not encountered any trouble with regard to it's legend.  Mortals oft believe it is magical in the hands of their King.~

      He looked up at Legolas with a curious expression on his face, ~Oh do they?~ he murmured, smiling at the elf jauntily.

      Legolas heart stopped.  And so there it was, then.  King indeed.  From the corner of his eye, he saw Aragorn son of Arathorn, the heir of Isildur, Gondor's lost child, look up at him.

      Legolas turned to face the Ranger's lonely silver eyes, ever more liquid with their unshed tears. 

      "I am sorry for you loss," he said, and Aragorn nodded at him, before placing his companion gently to the ground.  The adan rose to his feet, and looked around.

      Legolas made a step toward one of the fallen men, to check if he was still alive.  He was halted by a sharp bark from Aragorn.

      "Raise no finger," he was commanded, "We bury our own dead."

      Legolas' chin jutted out in reflex.  That tone brought out the rebel in him for sure, because it reminded him of his father.

      "While you unnecessarily refuse aid," Legolas retorted, "Night falls deeper and the stench of this place shall call more of these beasts into your folds.  Accept aid, lest you wish to lose more."

      The elf did not wait for a reply.  He ordered his men forward.  Aragorn raised an eyebrow at him and let him do whatever he wanted.

* * *

      The bodies of the lost edain were laid to rest in the ground, while the orcs burned in a pile.  Legolas stood before the fire, watching as the blaze danced and its smoke soared to the air, obscuring the stars of the clear night sky.  His soldiers stood behind him.  Wordlessly compromising, the elves kept their hands solely on work of disposing of the orcs, and let the men do as they wished with their dead. They kept their distance and did their work quietly, ending it with the pyre.

      Strider appeared into the scene, and stared at his burning enemies next to the elf.

      Legolas did not quite know what to stay, so he held his ground and kept himself from moving too much, lest he called unwanted attention unto himself, or he disturbed whatever deep thoughts or fervent prayers the man beside him surely must be having.

      But it was Aragorn himself who cut through that palpable silence, saying contritely, ~I am sorry for my harshness earlier.  We are very grateful for your help.~

      ~I understand very well that loss can be maddening,~ Legolas told him quietly, ~You need not apologize.~

      Aragorn paused, hesitating, ~There is guilt that mars my soul.  I should not be standing here.~

      ~You are where you need to be,~ Legolas told him, ~I'm finding I could not ask life of anything else than that.~

      It seemed to satisfy the Ranger, and it was Legolas' turn to say what was on his mind.

      ~I always wondered what Lord Elrond's business was, housing an adan,~ he said, ~Now I know.~

      ~I was not made aware of the lineage myself,~ Aragorn confessed, ~Until two years ago.~

      ~Your eyes have aged,~ Legolas noted, ~But then what should I have expected?  It is much to hope for things to remain just as they were.~

      ~Aye,~ Aragorn agreed, ~Are you on your way East?~

      ~Yes,~ replied Legolas, ~My father sent me to catalog armies other than those of Dol Guldur, here in the west.  I was on my way home.  We cannot have these armies banded, Strider.  They must be kept apart, and battled apart.  Thus could their efforts still be weathered.~

      ~I must remain here,~ Aragorn said, ~But if you would send a message to my family in Imladris, I will gladly share our information with you.~

      ~The bribe is unnecessary,~ Legolas told him, ~But the information will be much appreciated.~

* * *

      The elves and the edain made camp.  While the two races kept very warily apart, their commanders sauntered into the Chieftain's tent, bearing their papers and eager to work together.  Man and elf sat side by side on the ground, and Legolas looked over Aragorn's information, nodding at an elaborate drawing of an uruk-hai.

      "Those are a menace," he said distastefully, "New breeds.  Much more clever.  Someone out there is doing cruelly efficient work improving these detestable creatures."

      "There are more of them about," Aragorn murmured, "One wonders where from."

      "Not too many of them in Mirkwood yet," Legolas said, "Though I've not been home in a year.  Do you consider the North a protectorate of the Rangers?"

      "Yes, of course," Aragorn replied, "Hardly enough of us to go around aiding elsewhere."

      "I know," said Legolas, "Even our own soldiers could do little else than defend our own Realm."

      He took some of the papers in Aragorn's side, and began writing upon his own notes whatever information he found useful.

      "One of these days," he murmured as he worked, "A more coordinated effort should be made towards combating them.  The years have seen mostly nothing but defenses.  We need an offensive."
      "As soon as we know which front to take," Aragorn said wryly, "It is proving very difficult."  The man let the elf prince work, rising from the ground and towards his packs.  A leather envelope held a sheaf of papers tied together by a string, spanning four-fingers thick.  He handed them to Legolas.

      The elf looked up, and took the offering, looking slightly bewildered.

      Aragorn smiled, saying, "I write them everyday that I could.  Days may be mere moments to you elves, but each one counts for me.  I'm afraid," he chuckled quietly, "I'm afraid if I do not much update them, I'd have grown so old and so different they wouldn't be able to recognize me."

      Legolas laid the pile beside his hip, looking at the man curiously, "Well I've not seen you in fifteen years and still managed.  I'm sure you needn't worry about being forgotten."

      "I suppose," Aragorn conceded, before pointing out, "You are looking at me strangely."

      "I'm wondering if you are particularly spirited," the elf replied, looking back at his work, embarrassed by the scrutiny, "Or particularly insane.  Or perhaps just particularly forgetful."

      "Why is that?" Aragorn asked, sitting across from him.

      "You recover quickly," Legolas replied hastily, before he changed his mind about saying the things that weighed heavily on his mind.

      "Ah," Aragorn's brows rose, and a familiar pain crossed his eyes as he replied, "Spirited, yes.  Insane, often.  Forgetful… regretfully no.  You see, Legolas… These arms have held many 'til their last breath and these hands have laid to the ground far more.  There will be others yet in the future.  But you shed your tears, and you indulge your bad thoughts for a day, Legolas, just a day, maybe less, and then you move along.  Because many depend on it."

      "One cannot turn the heart on or off," Legolas pointed out, Regretfully.

      "One cannot," Aragorn agreed, "But it must not be blinded by its hurts toward what it must do.  And I am a man with much to do.  I cannot halt.  This blood owes the world much."

      Legolas looked up from his work, toward those passionate silver eyes.  "Is this one of your insane moments?"

      "It's actually one of my better ones," Aragorn told him, smiling slightly, "I know why you ask this.  Because I've seen you with your people.  They adore you, but you are evasive.  The first time we met you were dying because you loved too much.  And now you are dead because you love nothing at all.  I've seen it in others before.  You fear to lose.  You think you cannot lose that which you do not have."

      "Justifiably," Legolas pointed out, not bothering to deny.  The man was too perceptive for his own good, "Much life has already been paid before I learned this…"

      "But to live this way," Aragorn pointed out, "Do you not think you've already lost?"

TO BE CONTINUED…

MASSIVE THANKS FOR ALL WHO READ!!!

THANKS ESP. TO MY REVIEWERS: cotume, tychen, sundiata, kit cloudkicker, elrohir lover, andruill043, stoneage woman, MSL, kitty, amy, obsidian raven, gozilla, Kirsten, LOTRfaith, elessar*lover, lady janelly, Barbara kennedy, halandleg4ever, kniht Kenobi of eryn lasgalen, platy, dragonfly32, starlit hope, deana,

To kit cloudkicker:  they'll get stranger, haha.  And I haven't been calling you kitty :)

To andruill043: good luck on your project!!! :)

To stoneage woman: oh don't be awkward at all.  Any c&c's are welcome and they ought to be-- age is immaterial.  If a piece lacks gloss or has errors, well it simply does, no matter how old the person seeing it :) seriously :) and no, I haven't touched broken alliance at all :) going professional is currently not in the plan.  I'm doing well in my biz major subjects and it's so much fun too so I probably will not be writing professionally although it's often a nice thought :)

To MSL: I'm out of chapter 10!!! Haha.  I got out of the funk yesterday :) 11 is on the works too :)

To Kirsten: wow, thank you!!! oh I get so afraid gambling (with characterizations) and at least it seems on the mark so far :) THANK YOU!!! and good news… chapter 10 has released me at last.  I'm midway through eleven, I think.  This fic will be about 20 chapters if I get my way :) thanks again and hopefully, I get to keep you riding in first class, haha.  Btw, you picked my favorite line too, about the heart that had to love :) you must think I'm disturbed, haha :)

To LOTRfaith: actually I'm leaning towards not killing him off… I've never gone back on a plot point like that though, so I'm not so certain yet.  It seems so much a part of the original plan, like it was at the crux of the story to get there.  But whatever works best when the time comes I guess :) I can at least assure you that I am very much considering :)

To platy: oh my, I keep forgetting.  Oh well… makes 'it' even more special, haha. You bring a smile to my face.  Maybe the inspiring contents of that suitcase really do work!!! :)

To deana: wow, thanks, that's really amazingly kind! But, haha, I got out of the funk yesterday and am finding my groove at last! Chapter ten is done, and eleven is on its way too! :)

THANKS AGAIN EVERYBODY AND 'TIL THE NEXT POST, which takes us back to 3019.

And since you've all been so incredible (and chapter 8 is faily long), I'll give you a preview:

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      Eomer hurriedly chewed at the food in his mouth and downed it with a gulp of wine.  He was on his feet even before he placed the goblet upon the table, eager to follow after Legolas.

      He was accosted in the halls by his majordomo, who had a worried expression on his face.

      "What is wrong?" the King inquired.

      "The maid was fixing the elf's room, my lord," the majordomo replied, "She found an anomaly."

      The King strode toward Legolas' room, trailed by the majordomo who strides were shorter.

      "Explain," the King ordered as they navigated the halls.

      "She ran to me and said that there was blood," the majordomo replied, "blood on his clothes, bloodied bandages in his packs.  She says when she realized there was something amiss, she dropped everything as she found them and searched for me."

      Eomer pushed the door to Legolas' room and indeed found the bloodied cloths.  He picked them up, and studied them.  He scowled in displeasure.  The elf must have been bleeding to death where he stood, with these ridiculously copious amounts!

      "Leave me be," Eomer told the majordomo quietly, "And send a healer here at once."  The man nodded and closed the door behind him.  Eomer strode to the window, and watched as Legolas jogged through the rain from the stables to the main palace.

'TIL THE NEXT POST!!! :)