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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11: Aragorn, Son of Arathorn: A Memory I
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Rivendell, 3018
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The Prince of Mirkwood had his uncharacteristically hunched back to the door of one of the rooms in the houses of healing, sitting on a bench and grudgingly suffering the unwanted attention of yet another healer. The older Rivendell elf excused himself for a moment and walked away. The prince was, of course, not unhappy to see him go, and occupied himself with the raw beauty that was Imladris with the glorious view that graced his window.
Behind him, he heard approaching footsteps. They were quiet and discrete, but he could tell from its curiously familiar beat that this was not the elf from moments ago. He did not bother to turn and face the new arrival; he cared little for this healing business as it was. He only wished they would usher him into Lord Elrond's audience soon, that he may convey his urgent message.
~I think I see the weight of the world on your shoulders,~ the newcomer commented. The voice and the tone carved a smile into Legolas' face. Then again, this was Estel and there was hardly anything new about that. He, however, chose to keep his back on the man. The adan was overconfident as it was…
~So we see each other again,~ Legolas sighed melodramatically, ~It's been a year, Estel. And now I see you and it's a year too soon.~
~Ha,~ the man replied jauntily, ~I'd believe that if not for the smile I hear upon your face.~
Legolas turned to face him and said wryly, ~I really don't know why I bother.~
Estel smiled at him, and laid warm palms over his shoulders, willing him to face the window. Legolas complied without complaint; as healers went, Estel was not particularly easy to deal with in the sense that he never let Legolas go with his foolish assurances of not needing help. Estel just took getting used to and Legolas was comfortable with him by now.
~The wounds on your arm look well,~ Estel murmured, ~Oh, you do get into a lot of trouble.~
~Don't be a hypocrite,~ Legolas chided, ~Last year when you visited Mirkwood, you recall it was I who was tending to you.~
~Ah yes,~ said Estel, ~That little incident.~
They fell silent as Estel applied fresh bandages to the wound. The elf who was previously treating Legolas re-entered the room and Estel assured him that he had things well in control. The elven healer smiled and walked away.
~Speaking of that,~ Legolas said uncertainly, ~I was going to inform your father first but… I suppose you have as much of a right to know, it being that it was you who caught Gollum that time and delivered him to Mirkwood for our safekeeping… what I'm trying to say is… well, we were recently attacked. And he escaped. I do not know if the attack was engineered precisely toward that end, or if he simply took advantage of the moment. But he is gone.~
~These wounds are from that melee I assume,~ Estel murmured, seemingly unfazed.
~Yes,~ Legolas replied, ~I'm sorry. You entrusted him to us. We did everything we could, but the forces of the enemy are strong and ever gaining more power. We even hunted for him and--~
~Do not apologize,~ Estel told him evenly, ~It's all right, Legolas. These things happen.~
Legolas took a deep breath and nodded as Estel finished. The adan stepped back and Legolas reclaimed his robes from a nearby table, slipping them on and watching Estel's face.
~You've much on your mind,~ Legolas commented.
~Remember I said to you years ago, that you seemed to be wherever I needed you to be?~ Estel asked him with a wistful expression on his face, ~That first time, I was seven and sick. That second time, you halted what could have been a disastrous duel. That third time you helped me bury my dead. And that fourth time you helped save my people from a flood, and me from a uh…~ he smiled in embarrassment, ~a rather murderous tree branch. And then I remember just last year, when I captured the creature Gollum in the Dead Marshes. I passed through Mirkwood and your soldiers imprisoned me fearing I was some kind of a spy. You were there too. You're so seldom in your kingdom, I know, and you were there when I need you to be there. And now here we both are. I'm seldom here at home too, but fate would have it that we are once again together and I am once again in need. Are you by any chance getting sick of my face?~
~Don't worry,~ Legolas told him with a smile, though his forehead creased in worry, ~I will let you know when that happens.~
~If it happens,~ Estel corrected him primly.
~It will,~ Legolas teased him, before adopting a more serious tone, ~What do you need me for, Estel? I've noticed the House seems… electrified. A flurry of arrivals, all these strangers walking to and from rooms and places with curious expressions on their faces. You know I think I even arrived just ahead of a group of dwarves!~
~We've come to a point where things could go very well, or very ill,~ Estel replied with a wince, ~We are going to make history my friend, for all of its good and bad.~
Legolas watched him with a sidelong glance. ~You speak in riddles to me, Estel.~
~Do you feel it, Legolas?~ the adan asked, ~The way things are moving. Quicker, more vicious. The air takes on a more desperate tone. It's going to come to a head soon.~
~It shouldn't matter,~ Legolas told him evenly, ~It's just one more storm to weather, isn't it?~
Estel smiled at him. The elf didn't yet know what he was talking about. But he was not called 'Estel' for nothing.
~Yes,~ he agreed, ~You're right. Just one more.~
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Hours later he knew precisely why even the ever optimistic Estel seemed at odds over the situation they now all faced, willingly or otherwise. Legolas thought back to the events earlier in the morning.
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"Strangers from distant lands, friends of old. You have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor," Lord Elrond had said some hours ago in his Council, "Middle-Earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom…"
Ah, that blasted ring, Legolas had thought, it was only a matter of time before it resurfaced and reminded us all of our folly.
___
Legolas sat upon the bed of the guest suite. It was the same one from years and years ago, he remembered, staring at the wall in front of him, mulling about the trouble he's gotten into since.
___
"The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom," Lord Elrond had said, "Only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came…"
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Legolas had a profound understanding of what had to be done. It was an old lore, of course, of which most elves were well-aware of. But it was not a sentiment widely shared, and he dreaded the company of crazy insurrectionists who had no idea. Nevertheless, it was the company he had to keep. He made a promise, and he never goes back on his promises. What irked him was that undesirable company unfortunately made the same oaths.
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"If by my life or death I can protect you," Aragorn had said, "I will. You have my sword."
"And you have my bow," declared Legolas.
"And my axe!" joined the dwarf. Legolas looked at him miserably. He wished the dwarf had spoken sooner than he. Perhaps if Gimli Gloin's son had done so, the elf prince wouldn't have bothered to throw himself as well into the situation.
Or so he would like to think…
He glanced at Aragorn, who was looking at him wistfully. Legolas realized the adan probably expected him to come along. It was both touching and irritating. He averted his gaze. Nevertheless, it was an expectation that seemed to pain him to disappoint.
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It's just as well, Legolas thought, turning away from the wall and sorting out his belongings. The Fellowship of the Ring made for an almost comically suicidal picture of insane hopefuls. Success was a distant dream, but at least he knew he could keep them alive, even for just some time.
His warrior's heart desperately desired to have a more efficient unit, but the wildly optimistic group was also awakening a romantic idealist inside of him that he was not overly familiar with. Maybe it could work. Stranger things have been known to happen.
The wall shifted, and he was not at all surprised to find that the grown-up Aragorn had as much of an affinity for the secret ways as the seven-year-old Estel.
"Grow up, will you?" Legolas told him wryly.
Aragorn smiled at him, but mostly ignored the barb as he stepped into the room. He looked over Legolas' doings. "Getting ready, I see."
"The road will be long," Legolas said evenly, "We will be much… burdened. What we bring with us deserves a lot of thought."
"Do you think this is crazy?' Aragorn suddenly blurted out.
"Yes,"
Legolas replied, not missing a beat, "We have four
hobbits with us on our way to Mordor, Aragorn. It's not a very intelligent question."
"They are more able than you think,"
Aragorn pointed out, "But I understand your meaning. But you must know that this mission takes
more heart than skill. Of that they have
stock in country-loads."
"If you've already come with all the answers," Legolas told him wryly, "Why do you ask me questions?"
"I want to make sure I'm not…" Aragorn shook his head in dismay, "I already know what I think and what I feel, you see. And I cannot change my heart much as I may want to. But what I do not know, is if my thinking and feeling is the thinking and feeling of a crazy person. I will not bring the little ones into a mad situation that means certain death and certain failure."
"I know," Legolas said evenly, "I know, mellon. I know. Do not doubt," a teasing smile tugged at the corners of his lips, "It's unbecoming of a man named Estel."
"Well I've always wanted to be Lucky instead," Aragorn said, appreciating the lightheartedness.
"I know," Legolas smirked.
"Don't you know a lot," Aragorn said wryly.
"And besides," said Legolas, "It's a little too late to be entertaining these doubts now."
"Too late in the game," Aragorn agreed.
"Well yes but," Legolas told him good-naturedly, "It's more because it's too late in your life. You're a constantly hopeful fool."
"Ah," Aragorn smiled, "But who follows the fool is likely more foolish."
"Then you're in good company," Legolas concluded. Eight more fools to follow him. The Fellowship of the Ring, he mused, I really would rather be called Fellowship of the Lucky myself.
TO BE CONTINUED…
THANKS TO ALL WHO TOOK THE TIME TO READ!!!
THANKS ESP. TO MY REVIEWERS: lady jannelly, sirnonenath, silvertongue, starlit hope, demoness, elrohir lover, arayelle lynn, MSL, po-pla, tychen, amy, ws, xiad rusco, stoneage woman, keithan, amthramiel, barbara kennedy, lotrfaith, kept-secret, platy, the-serious-padfoot, elessar*lover, halandleg4ever, dragonfly, knight Kenobi of eryn lasgalen,
To demoness: actually, I may or may not kill him. Those who've asked me before were replied to with initially an assurance that this fic will end with his death. But as always, things could change and especially given the requests not to, I'm a bit more iffy now :)
To arayelle lynn: right now, I'm concretely seeing 18 chapters. But I want it to be 20. Aragorn appears by the 18th :)
To po-pla: don't worry about not reviewing :) I'm just so happy you read at all! :)
Xiad rusco: wow, good for you!!! one of these days, I'll certainly be able to find the time to do so :) good luck!!!
THANKS EVERYONE!!!
THE NEXT POST will be continuing with 3019, right after Legolas opened his eyes in chapter 10. 'til then!!!