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
* * *
20: Finding Estel III: A Reprise
(Finding… Legolas)
* * *
Rohan, 3019
* * *
Hours later, Aragorn realized he barely moved from that place beside his friend. Time seemed to slow, yes, but he wanted it to stop altogether, if it meant they would be together longer.
How familiar a scene this was, Aragorn reflected, thinking back to when he was seven, and that night he was losing a newfound friend.
___
Estel watched in alarm as reason and awareness vanished from his newfound friend's eyes. The elf's chest rose laboriously with a shuddering breath, and his brows furrowed furiously with his pain. His face was flushed with a low fever, and the blood from the side of his head soaked the pillows. Estel had almost grown used to the sight of that unclosing wound, but now that it actually looked as if the Elven prince was dying and not merely asleep, it lent a new brand of menace.
~I'll get ada,~ Estel said to Legolas urgently.
Legolas' hand blindly reached out to him, and Estel caught it hesitantly. The elf's fingers were so deathly cold…
~Please,~ Legolas whispered, ~He can offer me no relief. This is better. Quieter. Less trouble. It will end. I could just go to sleep.~
His words were not making proper sense, but Estel was distinctly aware of what it meant. The elf before him was dying.
Legolas' grip slackened, embarrassed at the intimacy and perceived intrusion of the contact, but the boy reclaimed his hand and kept it.
~They said your heart was broken,~ Estel told him nervously, ~Because you lost those whom you loved, and your heart seeks to follow them. They say you're dying because your heart is broken… It's like a fairy tale.~
The boy's words swirled around him like a haunting dream. He was fading, he was drifting away, and the chatter was warming, so he listened.
~But this is life,~ Estel said, his words quickening with his fears, ~It's supposed to be different. Or I want some other fairy tale to come true instead. Like the wooden boy who became a man. You think there could be some man who turns into an elf? I want to be an elf. I want to live forever. Because I'm not an elf. I suppose it's really very plain to see. Or I do not know, maybe you hadn't noticed. You do not seem… much aware…~
He hesitated and bit his lip, his warm grip tightening about the elf's fingers, ~I wish you would live. Because I have questions.~
The elf's eyes drifted close. Estel leaned in closer, near to his face. Legolas' expression slackened and relaxed as he fell into a deep sleep, though he could still hear the words dancing across his distorted and fading reality.
___
What Aragorn did not know was that he was as heard now as he was before.
"You asked me how it felt to watch," Aragorn said quietly, "I did not know just how you were so alone, my friend. But let me share this pain with you, even for just one night."
* * *
It was Legolas' sense of touch that returned before anything else. He was lying in bed, and he knew he was in his own room from the familiar contours of the mattress. A thick blanket laid heavily over him, and for a moment he pondered shifting away from it— the layered comforter was a weighty burden over his chest, but the warmth it provided was needed and welcomed.
This feels too familiar, he thought wryly.
Then as now, there seemed to be someone else in the room, and he could hear him speaking in hushed tones. Instinct kept the elf's eyes closed; the rule in capture was always to be aware of the enemy before they were aware of you.
Capture? Enemy?! He suddenly realized, Who am I talking about?
"You asked me how it felt to watch," Aragorn said quietly, "I did not know just how you were so alone, my friend. But let me share this pain with you, even for just one night."
Aragorn, Legolas concluded, Right. How could I forget.
The grown adan gripped the elf's slack and cold hand just as he did when he was just seven, when they just met. Their friendship began thus it did not seem strange for it to end similarly.
"I did not know just how you were so alone," Aragorn said again, his voice trembling, just as the tears shook from his turbulent eyes and rebelliously fell down his cheeks and over their hands. "Such a harsh lesson to teach a friend, Legolas."
The elf kept his silence and decided that he had indeed been captured, he was indeed imprisoned, and he was very much in the heart of 'enemy' territory…
Your tears, Legolas reflected, they stretch from ground to sky, like the silver bars of a lifelong prison I cannot escape.
But Aragorn's grip about the sleeping elf's hands only tightened, even as his heart fought to let him go.
"But I understand now," Aragorn said quietly, "Do as you will, mellon nin."
* * *
The sudden release was a shock to the system, and that tone… so sad, Legolas reflected, so defeated.
I've never heard you so defeated…
The elf kept his eyes closed and his expression slack; he did not desire to wake and to gaze upon those liquid eyes.
Aragorn by now had fallen into silence, but Legolas could still clearly hear the words dancing across his distorted and fading reality.
"It tears at my soul…"
"Let me share this pain with you, even for just one night."
"Such a harsh lesson to teach a friend, Legolas."
"I understand now."
"Do as you will."
"It tears at my soul…"
"It tears at my soul."
* * *
The cool dewy feeling of the morning assured him that the sun was soon to rise, though it was still as pitch dark as night. The candles that peppered the room were by now practically swimming in the melted wax that spilled indulgently from their metal holders, still dimly lighting the suite and resisting the dark of the early morning.
Aragorn found that a blanket had been draped over his shoulders, and he pushed himself up from his position of resting his head over his folded arms upon the bed, still gripping Legolas' hand.
The King of Gondor looked up to find that the 'culprit' must have been Eomer, who was sitting on the chair he himself sat on some hours ago, absently turning the board game pieces in his hands.
"You've remarkably light feet," Aragorn commented quietly.
Eomer looked up at him, and placed the game piece down. He caught how Aragorn's hand squeezed Legolas' affectionately before relinquishing it, and he averted his eyes in embarrassment. He felt distinctly intrusive.
"The letter was not meant to be sent to you so soon," Eomer murmured.
"I gathered as much," Aragorn replied, watching the other King carefully.
"Should I apologize?" Eomer inquired, "for not telling you of all this sooner?"
"No," Aragorn replied easily, "It is so like him to have successfully wrought a promise of secrecy from you, or from anybody."
Eomer glanced at Legolas' sleeping face, as if he awaited a reply, or some form of quirky reaction. None came, and he thought with irritation that he was perpetually plagued by unrewarded expectations.
"He did not want you here," Eomer said quietly, "He said to me, he does not want this to be the last thing he gives to you."
"That is like him too," Aragorn commented wistfully.
They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence.
"Your wife does not suffer a similar malady?" Eomer inquired.
"She counts upon being a mother," Aragorn replied, "Hers is a life that not merely is just beginning, it is one that transcends her."
"She will die when you die, do you think?" Eomer asked.
"Yes," Aragorn answered, wincing, "I believe so."
"Does this not make you the luckiest and most clever man there is," Eomer reflected, "That all the things you love shall always surround you, that you shall always have someone until you die."
"I suppose," Aragorn conceded, looking at Legolas too. "I did not realize just how alone he was."
"What would knowing have done?" Eomer asked.
"I'd have stayed away," Aragorn replied, chuckling mirthlessly, "I'd have spared him my miserable company. He'd never have had anything to lose."
"Life takes us to strange places," Eomer reflected, "Is it not better to have had something wonderful and lost it, than not having had it at all?"
"I used to think so," Aragorn replied, "But now I wonder if I was wrong, or if it is a wisdom that is meant only for edain, who live with losses and grave regrets for far shorter a time."
"I do not think losses are chronologically limited," Eomer commented, "If they hurt, they just do. No matter if you live with it until you die or live with it until the end of time. Yet I find I cannot trivialize his hurts and say that his and mine are equal. Legolas is still… who he is. This malady is given credence to me only by his character. He would triumph over it if he could."
Aragorn stared at Legolas' face. He looked at peace. He looked comfortable. Maybe things weren't so bad after all…
But why do I hurt so damn much?
"His eyes are closed," Aragorn said quietly, "Elves do not sleep thus." He reached to feel for the thready pulse upon the elf prince's neck. "But he lives yet."
"For how much longer?" Eomer asked.
"If he shall live long enough to open those eyes one more time," said Aragorn, "I would already count us among those who are much blessed."
He did not sound very hopeful.
* * *
Dreams. Ghosts. Memories.
Legolas did say that this form of dying was just like sleeping after the longest day of his life, and he lies in bed thinking about all the things he's done and all the things he didn't.
___
~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.
___
"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."
___
~I thought I simply liked you, mellon nin,~ he said quietly, comfortable that he would not be heard, ~but you do not know how much you mold my world.~
It was the truth; Aragorn was like a looking glass. He changed how people viewed at things. He is dead and things seem so bleak and impossible. He is alive and there is just… estel, Legolas thought wryly. Just so. Very aptly named.
___
"I know you've lost, by the Valar, I know so well. But do not think of these losses simply in terms of names and faces of loved ones. Give them voices, color their eyes… Put them in such a time that they are no longer warriors and it is no longer a time of war. You do not lose them to an enemy. You do not lose them to a sword. You lose them to time. You lose them to yourself, because you are made differently. These arms have held many, these hands have buried more. And there are others to come. Watch them age. Fade their voices, and dim their faces until they've vanished before your eyes. Tell me. How does it feel? They fade slowly, they fade surely, and you can only watch. How does it feel?"
Aragorn was staring at him searchingly.
"How does it feel, Estel?" Legolas asked him again, his voice lowered and his face averted in embarrassment at the conspicuous silence that followed the furious rush of his harsh words. Speak to me, Legolas silently begged.
"It tears at my soul," Aragorn said finally, and Legolas met his profoundly sorrowful gaze.
The elf's heart wanted to burst. He did not wish to be the one to tear the spirit away from those fiery eyes. To chip at that legendary hope. It was why he left; he knew long ago that he could do nothing to save himself, so he might as well spare his friends the grief.
___
"What are you doing here?" Legolas asked him plaintively, sighing heavily as his eyes fluttered toward sleep.
"Did you not tell me before?" Aragorn asked him with a small smile, "We are where we need to be?"
"You would be kinder if you just left," Legolas told him quietly, closing his eyes in profound weariness. Aragorn waited a beat, watched him drift off to sleep.
"You asked me how it felt to watch," Aragorn said quietly, "I did not know just how you were so alone, my friend. But let me share this pain with you, even for just one night."
The grown adan gripped the elf's slack and cold hand just as he did when he was just seven, when they just met. Their friendship began thus it did not seem strange for it to end similarly.
"I did not know just how you were so alone," Aragorn said again, his voice trembling, just as the tears shook from his turbulent eyes and rebelliously fell down his cheeks and over their hands. "Such a harsh lesson to teach a friend, Legolas."
His grip about the sleeping elf's hands tightened, even as his heart fought to let him go.
"But I understand now," Aragorn said quietly, "Do as you will, mellon nin."
* * *
The birds were singing.
It was a new day. The irrepressible streaks of the morning sunlight warmed the room and lit it with a sparkling yellow-white.
Legolas opened his eyes, and he felt alive.
Actually, he decided, I'm pretty sure I am.
The thought was strangely funny.
He pushed himself up to his elbows, and found with no surprise that he was not alone in his room. Two sleeping human Kings miserably made a rather pathetic effort of converting the stiff-backed desk seats into beds. They were sitting in front of each other over that blasted board game. He craned his neck to get a look at the pieces. Aragorn was winning.
A smile touched his face, and he brought his hands up to touch his lips, his brows furrowing in thought. He felt… detached. As if he was uncertain of being here.
Or perhaps, he corrected himself, I'm uncertain of being at all.
He sat up and leaned against the bed's ornate headrest. His robes were wrinkled, and wisps of his hair were stubbornly framing his face.
This will not do, he thought with profound displeasure.
He sighed. The two Kings stirred for a moment, as if they would awaken by this slightest of sounds. Legolas stayed perfectly still, waiting until they settled back into sleep.
Do as you will, mellon nin, Estel had said.
Oh Estel, Legolas thought, Even my will follows your will.
He was feeling remarkably well. Weak, yes, but remarkably well for one who was supposedly dying. As a matter of fact, he felt so well that he was even feeling extraordinarily mischievous.
What would they do, he wondered, if they woke to suddenly find me gone from this bed…
But there was really no use stirring them until he was sure he was physically well enough to handle the inevitable revenge. He was weary, but refreshed, and there really was just one way to know…
So he carefully removed the bandage upon his left forearm.
The white wrapping came off with dried blood. And upon his arm he found a nightmare of a scar, yes, but one that would surely soon fade.
He looked at it thoughtfully, with a mixture of sadness and joy, a mixture of relief and annoyance.
And so I get to stay, he concluded.
Was the night so long, that things have changed for him so dramatically?
"It tears at my soul," Aragorn said finally, and Legolas met his profoundly sorrowful gaze.
The elf's heart wanted to burst. He did not wish to be the one to tear the spirit away from those fiery eyes. To chip at that legendary hope…
He placed the bandage upon the bed, and raised up his eyes to find that he was being very keenly watched by the King of Rohan.
"Good morning," Legolas greeted him quietly, eyes shining at him warmly and with an endearing effort at courting conspiracy.
Eomer glanced at the Elessar, before deciding to keep his own voice low. "You're healing, yes?"
"Yes," Legolas answered, looking at the man in wonder, "How long have I been asleep?"
"A night," Eomer replied, "You know it could have been much longer…"
There was a thoughtful look on the elf's face.
"Why?" Eomer inquired.
"It felt so long," Legolas replied quietly, "Because things changed so quickly."
"The discoveries of the soul are not bound by the limits of time," Eomer said, "Remember? Like a stroke of lightning? One telling moment in time, can easily be missed by the blink of an eye? And then you come to these ridiculously binding realizations."
"As true for horses as elves, eh?" Legolas asked him dryly. The King of Rohan was not slighted, though his discerning ears caught an almost antagonistic edge to the tone.
"You have this look on your face," Eomer pointed out, "This… sound to your voice. As if you're unsure if your living is a good thing."
"No," Legolas assured him with a defeated sigh, "It's a good thing. It just doesn't make it any less of a sad thing. It just… is."
"I'm confused," Eomer admitted after a beat.
Legolas smiled and shook his head, indicating he himself was. He pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his chin over them thoughtfully.
"You found your cure then," Eomer commented, "One visit from this crazy man and all is well. His really are a set of hands that are healing."
"Yes, but…" Legolas said softly, glancing at the sleeping adan, "I think it was his eyes, this time. He seemed so sad."
"Aye," Eomer agreed, "that he was. Justifiably so. He said if he only knew how grandly he hurt you, he'd have spared you his miserable company."
Legolas frowned. "He would say that. Although… he never would have, before--"
Before I cast all that he believed into doubt.
He would have said, to live this way, haven't you already lost?
"He never would have before," Legolas finished.
"So is it just him then?" Eomer asked, "You said to me days ago… you needed something of yourself to fight this. That which will give you strength even when you stand alone. Because ultimately, that is what you are to be. You said that if you cannot save yourself on your own then you might as well let this passing happen, because Elessar, or anybody else who can spare you your grief will not always be around. You found something. I want to know what it is."
Legolas pondered the question. He realized with some dismay that he did not know the answer readily.
"It tears at my soul," Aragorn said finally, and Legolas met his profoundly sorrowful gaze.
The elf's heart wanted to burst. He did not wish to be the one to tear the spirit away from those fiery eyes. To chip at that legendary hope…
It tears at my soul…
It tears at my soul…
"I did not want to take his hopes from him," Legolas replied quietly, "I despised that look in his eyes, the sound of his voice. He was dispirited. And I was the cursed thief. Orcs could not take it. Sauron could not. I took it."
And so there it was. And so he knew. He managed to survive this lethal fix, because lonely as he was, there still was this one thing he could not bear to do. To tear that soul apart.
Years ago, he was near death and Estel asked him to stay. Legolas lived, and the adan's child's heart expected no less. This time, that voice had been so devoid of hope and trust... and Legolas was bent upon restoring it.
Years ago, it was Estel's caring for him that sustained him. This time around, it would be his caring for Estel that would keep him alive.
"It loves without end," Legolas said of his heart some days ago, "Though unfortunately it loves things that do…"
His understanding had been hideously flawed. A love that was true sustained itself only by its giving. He did not need to take, anymore. He only had to give, and that had to be enough. A love that was true was like a calling, a sacred duty. It was one that death could not release one from, or erase.
But still, he reflected, in a sense I did die. He died out of himself, out of the things that he desperately wanted to escape.
"I will not be the one to break him," Legolas said with finality.
As Estel always was, the adan once again became Legolas' looking glass upon life. Not its center, but its vantage point. The man was truly amazing; he could teach things he himself did not know.
I guess I get to stay…
"You do not look too happy," Eomer said thoughtfully.
"I do not have to be," Legolas replied with a wistful smile.
Eomer stared at him for a moment, deep in thought. "Hm," he said finally, before turning away from Legolas. He glanced at the board game. Aragorn was winning, so the King of Rohan deftly and shamelessly picked up one of the sleeping Gondorian's game pieces and put it elsewhere.
"You cheat!" Legolas exclaimed under his breath with a surprised chuckle.
"But you live," Eomer pointed out, "Trust me, he won't mind losing. When he wakes up and finds you up to your old tricks, he won't be minding anything at all. Believe me, he won't notice a thing."
Legolas glanced at the sleeping adan, as if expecting a reaction. Surely enough, the King of Gondor's eyes were open in narrow slits, and his lips were slightly curved in a tight smile.
Obliviously, Eomer stretched his arms over his head and rose to his feet. "I shall go find a real bed."
"I'm sorry for the trouble," Legolas said as he watched the King of Rohan coolly walk towards the door, "I really am, Eomer. Sire. Thank you. Have a good sleep, my friend."
"It will be my first one since we've met, I believe," Eomer said mildly, brows rising.
"Fair of you to say so," Legolas smiled at him.
The King grinned back slyly and shut the door behind him as he said, almost absently, "Welcome back." His tone was more uncertain, but far more earnest as he added, "Mellon-nin."
Legolas chuckled and turned toward Aragorn, who was already reaching for the piece Eomer moved and restored it to its rightful place. The King of Gondor looked thoughtfully upon his handiwork, as if he was pondering doing a similar trick.
Instead of doing some form of mischief though, Elessar leaned comfortably back upon his chair and stared at Legolas. The elf's eyes were shining.
"You must be proud of yourself," Legolas teased, "to be able to demonstrate such restraint."
"Victories are sweeter when played fairly," Aragorn said with a grin, "Most of the time. How do you feel?"
"I don't know," the elf confessed, "Embarrassed. Does that make sense?"
"No," Aragorn answered.
"All of everyone's trouble for nothing," Legolas pointed out, making Aragorn laugh in surprise.
"Are you apologizing for not dying, crazy elf?" he asked.
Legolas smiled, hid his face behind his knees for a moment, "It's ridiculous, I know."
They fell to a companionable silence. Legolas looked up at Aragorn, and the adan was staring at him with indulgent loving.
"How much did you hear?" Legolas asked him wryly.
"Enough not to ask you any more questions," Aragorn replied, looking away from the elf, back to the board game pieces.
"Mmhm," Legolas murmured skeptically, "You? Not asking questions?"
"I was wondering if I should apologize," Aragorn told him seriously.
"That's still a question," Legolas pointed out, but the adan refused to be waylaid by humor.
"Legolas…" he said haltingly, not quite sure of what to say, "I'm thinking I should. Or if I should stay away. Or…" he laughed nervously, "Or if I should go try to find a way to live forever."
"You don't have to do anything, Estel," Legolas told him with a smile, "Truly. I was the one who needed to make changes. A situation remedied, eh?"
"It's just that," Aragorn argued, "I did not know how alone you were and…" he paused, watching Legolas' kind eyes before asking, "How much did you hear?"
"Enough not to ask you anymore questions," Legolas replied impishly, making the adan smile at last.
"No more doubts, Aragorn, all right?" Legolas beseeched him with an earnest expression on his face, "It's too late in your life, Estel, to be other than what you've always been to all of us."
"A hopeful fool, I know," Aragorn sighed melodramatically.
Legolas laughed. "Among other things."
* * *
He found himself alone during the evening, and he stood before the window of his room savoring the calming breezes of the Rohan night. The moon was looming clearly and brightly above the country landscape, and Legolas reflected that Luna, though accompanied by the stars and the curious grey strands of evening clouds, seemed more solitary than the sun, whose loneliness hid behind the blinding flashes of its golden glare, encompassing everything and making them an extension of itself.
Legolas smiled wistfully. To live and to touch others in such a manner… To live and be touched by others in such a manner… Maybe no one was truly so alone.
THE END
May 5, 2004
SOME IMPORTANT NOTES:
THANKS TO ALL WHO TOOK THE TIME TO READ!!! It's incredibly long, I know, kind of depressing but wow, THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME!!!
THANKS ESPECIALLY TO MY REVIEWERS: kourin lucrece, elessar*lover, MSL, sodalite, gollum's fish, as, grumpy, cotume, stoneage woman, xiad rusco, gozilla, kelsey, amthramiel, halandleg4ever, deana, miss attitude, platy, barbara kennedy, AM, LOTRfaith, tychen, dragonfly, sol 3 and silvertongue.
To cotume: haha, happy birthday to your sis then!!! :)
To stoneage woman: oh dear. Get well soon!!!
to Kelsey: wow, haha, your last review made a plea to keep legolas alive for everybody, haha. Oh well :) I hope you are relatively pleased with the ending :)
to deana: actually I almost didn't post today… I didn't feel quite as pleased with the ending (and if you read my afterword regarding the difficulties of revising the ending you'll know why). But I remembered your request, haha! :)
to AM: I'm sorry!!! Are you still alive? :0
GUYS, please read the afterword in the next part if you can; it's long but it tells you where all the symbols are, what they mean, why they're there, where the title came from, where the characterizations came from, etc. it might give you more appreciation of the effort, haha… here's a table of contents so you can check if you're interested or not:
AFTERWORD: TABLE OF CONTENTS
I. The Evolution of the Ending
A. The Original Ending
B. The Revised Ending
II. The Structure
III. The Style
IV. The Theme and Recurring Scenes
V. The Phenomena of the 'Torture Fic'
VI. Movie Gap Fillers
VII. The Affliction
VIII. The Cure
IX. The Characterization of Legolas
X. The Characterization of Eomer
XI. The Characterization of Aragorn
XII. The Aragorn-Legolas Dynamic
XIII. The Legolas-Eomer Dynamic
XIV. The Original Characters
A. Avia
B. Lenne
XV. The Rohan Setting
XVI. My Next Project