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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12: Convincing
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Rohan, 3019
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Maybe Lucky had been Estel's middle name—he just didn't know about it-- Legolas wasn't sure. One Peregrin Took's fine fortune sure contributed too, and this hobbit's life was a rather fine argument for favoring luck over intelligence.
Either way… the Fellowship traveled from frozen peaks to deep caverns, wide plains to dense forests, great palaces and fields of battle. Mostly they emerged alive. More than anything, against all odds, they managed to succeed.
But so far he had no cause to believe the word had ever even manifested itself in his life. For instance… his eyes snapped open and fell right into the cast-iron gaze of the King of Rohan.
Avia murmured some vague excuse. It was almost certainly a lie, but Legolas didn't really mind. The retreat was admittedly one he desperately desired to make himself.
The door clicked shut behind the healer, and a heavy silence fell between the King of Rohan and the Prince of Mirkwood.
Legolas held Eomer's gaze as he pushed himself up to a sitting position. He did not want to be looked down upon. Eomer watched him, offered no hand. The King did not wish to infringe upon that legendary elven pride, nor compromise his position by appearing too kind. It was a courtesy, he supposed, between warriors… And indeed, a war of words was in the works.
"You're dying," Eomer told him flatly, watching his face.
"I know," Legolas said evenly.
"You said nothing of it," Eomer snapped, "I'm very… displeased."
"I was merely passing through," Legolas pointed out, "I did not consider it to be any business of yours."
A flash of pain crossed Eomer's fiercely burning eyes, quickly concealed but not nearly quickly enough. "Is it not the business of friends to know such things, or am I too presumptuous to expect that I number among those of yours?"
"It's no one's business but my own," Legolas replied quietly.
"It's my business now," the King said with finality, "I am sending for Elessar. He knows more of the healing arts of your kind, for one. And if there is really nothing else to do, he should be here with you, or would know who to send for."
"Please don't," Legolas… begged. I hate that word. All his life he cannot recall any instance when he had to ask for things in this manner. But, well, he was fading and really… If there is a time to do things that I've never done before, this would be it.
Eomer caught the unfamiliar tone as well, and knew from the elf's averted gaze just how much that may have cost.
"I cannot remain silent," Eomer argued, "And anyways your presence here is already well-documented. My soldiers have seen you. Or maids, our stable boys, our riders, our cooks. He will eventually know. So you really might as well."
"I do not wish him to be here," Legolas said, "I do not wish to be here. If you would not allow me to leave, then please just do this much for me."
"No word or allegiance binds me to you," Eomer snapped, run out of other words to say to that tone that asked for theoretically so little—to not do anything. How hard is that supposed to be? But it was, and the entire situation was leaving a foul taste in his mouth, and a rather heavy feeling in his weathered heart.
There was a pain that crossed the elf's eyes, this time, and it was quickly concealed too although of course, not nearly quickly enough. Eomer caught it cleanly, and contritely averted his own gaze.
"For god's sake, Legolas," Eomer ran his hand through his sandy hair, "They deserve to know."
"I do not want to cause ripples in the water," Legolas said, "All is well now. If you must let him know, then kindly do so after the fact."
After I die, he meant.
"Besides," Legolas continued, "There is nothing to be sad about. Is it not considered a fine blessing to die in a time of peace?"
"Usually," Eomer replied, "But not this way. You for instance, are not even supposed to die at all. What is this affliction of yours? Do you even know? Have you even checked? Perhaps there are things to do still, that you've not yet tried."
"There is nothing to do that I've not tried," Legolas answered, chuckling humorlessly, "Would you believe if I said I was afflicted with a heart that is breaking?"
Eomer's eyes narrowed in thought; he was not so much contemplating the question, as much as he was wondering where Legolas was taking this conversation.
"It's ridiculous, I know," the elf said, wringing his wrists nervously, "Its theoretically embarrassing. I hate weakness. I despise needfulness. But it is what it is. All beings must face a challenge of some sort. Our bodies have mastered the perils of this material Earth; it is only logical for our harsher battles to be set in some other place."
"The heart," Eomer said flatly, "Then is healing not simply therefore an act of willing?"
"The damn heart does what it does," Legolas sighed, "Excuse the language. I suppose I've been feeling rather let down by it lately. It's a cursed insurrectionist. It thinks it's apart from all the rest of me. It wants its own way."
"What way is that?" Eomer asked.
"It loves without end," Legolas replied, "Though unfortunately it loves things that do."
Eomer stared at the elf. He was beginning to understand the burden of his immortality. It was probably why most of his kin wisely kept to themselves. This elven prince, on the other hand, formed ridiculous attachments to beings that would surely die long before he himself passes.
"I'm sorry to burden you," Legolas said quickly, "I cannot understand it either. I've had it before. I lived past it, but, well… its return is not a surprise to me."
"So there is a cure," Eomer pointed out.
"There was a cure," Legolas replied, "It was Aragorn. It was his caring that kept me alive before, but it is this same caring that kills me now. I fear to lose. Yet I know I will. It was only a matter of time. He was just a single stitch struggling to bridge a mile long wound a mile apart."
"So he will die, eventually," Eomer argued, "And shortly thereafter, your grief will most likely take you. But why rush, if you are anyways headed that way? Or for that matter, why perish here, when a haven one like myself can only dream of is so closely within your reach? You know of what I speak. That elven haven beyond the sea. You could just leave and spare yourself…" his hands flailed about him vaguely, "All this."
"Much as all of this pains me," said Legolas, "I cannot bear to leave. Anywhere I go I would still be who I am. From myself, there is no running. Though it is comforting to presume they might have athelas for the soul in Valinor, I cannot believe I would emerge subdued and freed from these pains as still distinctly myself… I cannot divorce this from the entirety of my being."
"Eomer," he sighed, after a quiet moment, "I did not come here for convincing, do you not think I've already thought of every reason imaginable? Every smattering of hope that I could possibly find? I need something of myself to survive this. That which will give me strength even when I stand alone. Because ultimately, that is what I am going to be. Alone. If I cannot save myself on my own then I might as well let this passing happen, because Elessar, or anyone else who can spare me this ridiculous grief will not always be around. I've crossed your lands because Rohan has seen the worst of my days and the hardiest of my spirit. If I cannot find my own strength here, then it lies nowhere."
TO BE CONTINUED…
THANKS TO ALL WHO READ!!!
THANKS ESP. TO MY REVIEWERS: MSL, hermes09, amy, starlit hope, jedi cosmos, gissela, gollum's fish, tychen, platy, kit cloudkicker, stoneage woman, elessar*lover, dragonfly, LOTRfaith, morgan, amthramiel, halandleg4ever, knight kenobi of eryn lasgalen, barbara kennedy, sundiata and deana.
To MSL: wow, when is your birthday? It won't be more than 20 chapters :)
To gollum's fish: you're right, haha, I thought you were going to say something terrible. My heart skipped a beat there, haha :)
To tychen: I'm sorry for making you sad!!! :)
THE NEXT POST will take us back to Legolas' memories of Rohan. A have this great weakness for movie gap-fillers :) so the next chapter goes to Helm's Deep :) 'TIL THEN!!!
THANKS EVERYONE!!!