Just wanted to thank +++++++O'Shea for beta reading this one for me! I took most of your suggestions!
Ever After - Chapter 3
'Yesterday we shook hands,
My friend,
Today a moonbeam lightens my path,
My guardian.'
Angels fall first - Nightwish
Gimli stared around what had once been his room in the palace. It was hardly recognisable as such now; most of the furniture had been destroyed, as had anything else within reach. His axe lay where he had dropped it after his rage had finally given way to tears. It wasn't right, he thought bitterly. It should never have been the elf. It should have been him. If only he'd seen that soldier earlier. It was his fault, all his fault! He knew it was and nothing would make him believe otherwise. Lord Elrond had tried to lift the blame from him yesterday, but the dwarf would have none of it. Legolas had died because of him, and the guilt would haunt him forever.
Gimli snarled as he heard a knock on the door. Why couldn't they leave him alone? "What do you want?!" He yelled through the closed door. He did not want to have to face anyone, he felt sure he would start crying again. The terrified voice of a young servant girl came back in reply.
"Lord Gimli, King Thranduil has arrived. He has asked to speak with you." Gimli's rage fled at the words. The bone-deep sorrow that the rage had hidden returned instantly. If he felt like this, then what was Legolas' father going through? He did not wish to, but he knew he had to speak with the Elven-King. Taking a deep breath, Gimli tried to calm himself. Then, with a shaking hand, he opened the door of his room and went to face the King of Mirkwood.
Thranduil stood by a tree in the gardens, leaning on the thick trunk for support. He had just come from the Room of Waiting where his son lay. He tried to force the images from his mind. That was not how he wanted to remember Legolas. His son had always been so full of life, always ready with a smile and a joke. Just like his mother. A deep pain filled him. His wife had died two thousand years ago, when Legolas was very young. Now Legolas was gone too. Was there anything left to live for?
Gimli slowly approached the Elven-King. Thranduil's back was facing him and the elf was gripping the trunk of the tree he stood by. The dwarf went to speak, but Thranduil heard him coming and turned around.
"Master Dwarf." He said softly. Gimli's heart almost stopped. He had never realised before how much Legolas had looked like his father. When Thranduil had turned, he'd thought, just for a second, that it was Legolas and not Thranduil who stood before him. Trying to control his emotions, Gimli bowed low to the elf.
"Lord Thranduil." He greeted him in a voice that trembled slightly.
A period of silence followed as both elf and dwarf tried to figure out what to say. Eventually, it was Thranduil who spoke.
"My son died to save your life." It was a statement, not a question. Fearing what the King would say next, Gimli could only nod. "He thought highly of you. I had always feared what would happen when you and Aragorn died and he was left alone." The King stifled a sob. "I need not have worried."
The guilt that Gimli already felt intensified as he listened to his friend's father. He looked away, wishing more than ever that it had been he, not Legolas, who had died. He was sure the Elven-King must hate him, so he was unprepared for Thranduil's next words.
"But he made the right choice." Gimli stared at the Elven-King in shock as he continued. "Legolas was always extremely loyal and protective. He would always put the lives of others before his own. If he had saved himself, he would have betrayed everything that he was." Thranduil looked sternly at Gimli. "So I suggest, Master Dwarf, that you live the remainder of your days in such a way that my son's death was not in vain."
With that, the elf-lord turned and walked away, leaving Gimli rooted to the spot.
The funeral was held the next day. In the customs of the Elves, Legolas' body was cremated and his ashes were given to Thranduil, to be scattered among the trees of Mirkwood.
The eulogy that Aragorn gave moved even those who hardly knew the elf to tears. He spoke of their long friendship and of some of the many things that they had been through together. He told them of the Prince's love for his family and friends and his great affinity for all living things. Yet it was what he didn't say that held the most meaning. It was the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice that said all the things that words could not.
There was not a single person in attendance that could not see the depths of the King's grief.
Over the next few days, the guests that had come to Gondor for the funeral slowly began to leave, heading back to their homes and their lives. Thranduil was the first to leave. His son's funeral had almost broken his heart and he could no longer stay in the city where he had bid Legolas farewell. He had departed the morning after the funeral, taking Legolas' ashes with him.
Before he had left though, he had called both Aragorn and Gimli to stand before him. Then he had placed Legolas' bow in Aragorn's hand and his twin knives in Gimli's. At the look of surprise on their faces the Elven-King had simply told them. "He would have wanted you to have them."
The two friends had been touched by Thranduil's gesture and had vowed to always cherish the gifts. They would be a physical reminder of their greatest friend.
Elrond and the twins stayed longer than most, helping and supporting Aragorn and Arwen, but eventually they could no longer ignore their duties back in Rivendell. Estel knew though, if ever he needed them, they would come back.
The last to leave was Gimli. He had to return to the Glittering Caves, though he did not know how he could rule his people after all that had happened. Yet Thranduil's words stayed with him and in them he found strength. He would not let Legolas down. However hard it may be, he had to keep on living.
~It smiled. This was a most wonderful stroke of luck. The elf's death had hit the King hard and it would take him many years to recover - if he ever did. A King weakened by grief was just what it needed. Now it had the time it needed to put its plan into action.~
*End flashback*
Aragorn slowly climbed the stairs to his rooms. Tomorrow it would be twelve years to the day that Legolas had died. In all that time the pain of losing his best friend had not lessened, though he had learned to live with it. Gimli had arrived earlier that day. It had become a ritual for them over the past twelve years to meet on that day and remember their friend and his life.
He entered the room and saw Arwen sitting up in bed. Wordlessly he undressed and got into the large bed beside her.
She waited until he was settled. When he had blown out the candle and laid down, she moved closer to him, laying her hand on his heart. "Estel?" She spoke softly, worried that what she had to say might upset him. He turned his head so that he could see her face.
"Yes love?" He said, though he did not really wish to talk. Arwen took a deep breath.
"It has been twelve years Estel and still you grieve. I know he was your best friend, but I am sure he would not want this. Legolas loved life, he would want you to live it to the full and not spend your time lingering in the past." Aragorn closed his eyes. He had known that she would bring this up sooner or later. The words hurt, but then, the truth often did.
"Oh Arwen, I know that you are right, but I cannot help it. We went through so much together over so many years that I still cannot believe that we will never meet again." He looked at her closely. "I can see how it upsets you though, so for your sake and for Legolas' memory, I will try to move past the pain." He wrapped his arms around her and she smiled.
"I'm glad my love. Legolas would be too." She moved in his arms and kissed him tenderly. "Now get some sleep."
~It growled in frustration. It had thought it had longer than this. Damn that she-elf! She was causing problems. It might have to take care of her.~
Aragorn and Gimli walked side-by-side in the palace gardens. They said little, both lost in the memories. As they came to a large oak tree, Aragorn stopped. A memory pushed its way into his mind. Suddenly, he smiled and a quiet laugh escaped him.
On hearing the laugh, Gimli turned and stared at his friend, mouth open in shock. Surely Aragorn was not laughing? Not on this of all days! "Aragorn?!" The dwarf gasped.
"Forgive me Gimli." Aragorn said, still smiling. "I was just remembering a camping trip Legolas and I went on many years ago. It started raining and Legolas was afraid I would get ill, so we took shelter in the hollow of an old oak tree. We thought we'd be fine, but the rain became a storm and the tree was no longer safe. I got out fine, but as Legolas went to get out, a great gust of wind snapped a large branch off the tree opposite and by sheer bad luck, in fell into the hollow. Legolas just pinned himself to the back of the trunk in time! I cut him out eventually, but you should have seen his face when he realised that he, a wood-elf, was stuck in that tree!" Despite himself, Gimli laughed.
"Oh, I can imagine it well enough!" He grinned. Aragorn looked down at the dwarf. There was a slight sparkle in his eyes.
"We have lingered on the pain for too long my friend. We had many good times with Legolas. Let us remember those now." Gimli nodded in agreement and approval. Aragorn was right. The elf should be remembered with smiles and laughter, not tears.
For the rest of the day they told each other stories of the adventures that they had shared with the Prince of Mirkwood. Often, Laughter could be heard ringing in the trees.
Arwen heard the laughs and smiled. Perhaps things were finally looking up.
~"No!" It cursed. Things were moving too fast! It would have to do something and soon, or all it's carefully made plans would come to nothing!~
End Chapter 3
Ever After - Chapter 3
'Yesterday we shook hands,
My friend,
Today a moonbeam lightens my path,
My guardian.'
Angels fall first - Nightwish
Gimli stared around what had once been his room in the palace. It was hardly recognisable as such now; most of the furniture had been destroyed, as had anything else within reach. His axe lay where he had dropped it after his rage had finally given way to tears. It wasn't right, he thought bitterly. It should never have been the elf. It should have been him. If only he'd seen that soldier earlier. It was his fault, all his fault! He knew it was and nothing would make him believe otherwise. Lord Elrond had tried to lift the blame from him yesterday, but the dwarf would have none of it. Legolas had died because of him, and the guilt would haunt him forever.
Gimli snarled as he heard a knock on the door. Why couldn't they leave him alone? "What do you want?!" He yelled through the closed door. He did not want to have to face anyone, he felt sure he would start crying again. The terrified voice of a young servant girl came back in reply.
"Lord Gimli, King Thranduil has arrived. He has asked to speak with you." Gimli's rage fled at the words. The bone-deep sorrow that the rage had hidden returned instantly. If he felt like this, then what was Legolas' father going through? He did not wish to, but he knew he had to speak with the Elven-King. Taking a deep breath, Gimli tried to calm himself. Then, with a shaking hand, he opened the door of his room and went to face the King of Mirkwood.
Thranduil stood by a tree in the gardens, leaning on the thick trunk for support. He had just come from the Room of Waiting where his son lay. He tried to force the images from his mind. That was not how he wanted to remember Legolas. His son had always been so full of life, always ready with a smile and a joke. Just like his mother. A deep pain filled him. His wife had died two thousand years ago, when Legolas was very young. Now Legolas was gone too. Was there anything left to live for?
Gimli slowly approached the Elven-King. Thranduil's back was facing him and the elf was gripping the trunk of the tree he stood by. The dwarf went to speak, but Thranduil heard him coming and turned around.
"Master Dwarf." He said softly. Gimli's heart almost stopped. He had never realised before how much Legolas had looked like his father. When Thranduil had turned, he'd thought, just for a second, that it was Legolas and not Thranduil who stood before him. Trying to control his emotions, Gimli bowed low to the elf.
"Lord Thranduil." He greeted him in a voice that trembled slightly.
A period of silence followed as both elf and dwarf tried to figure out what to say. Eventually, it was Thranduil who spoke.
"My son died to save your life." It was a statement, not a question. Fearing what the King would say next, Gimli could only nod. "He thought highly of you. I had always feared what would happen when you and Aragorn died and he was left alone." The King stifled a sob. "I need not have worried."
The guilt that Gimli already felt intensified as he listened to his friend's father. He looked away, wishing more than ever that it had been he, not Legolas, who had died. He was sure the Elven-King must hate him, so he was unprepared for Thranduil's next words.
"But he made the right choice." Gimli stared at the Elven-King in shock as he continued. "Legolas was always extremely loyal and protective. He would always put the lives of others before his own. If he had saved himself, he would have betrayed everything that he was." Thranduil looked sternly at Gimli. "So I suggest, Master Dwarf, that you live the remainder of your days in such a way that my son's death was not in vain."
With that, the elf-lord turned and walked away, leaving Gimli rooted to the spot.
The funeral was held the next day. In the customs of the Elves, Legolas' body was cremated and his ashes were given to Thranduil, to be scattered among the trees of Mirkwood.
The eulogy that Aragorn gave moved even those who hardly knew the elf to tears. He spoke of their long friendship and of some of the many things that they had been through together. He told them of the Prince's love for his family and friends and his great affinity for all living things. Yet it was what he didn't say that held the most meaning. It was the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice that said all the things that words could not.
There was not a single person in attendance that could not see the depths of the King's grief.
Over the next few days, the guests that had come to Gondor for the funeral slowly began to leave, heading back to their homes and their lives. Thranduil was the first to leave. His son's funeral had almost broken his heart and he could no longer stay in the city where he had bid Legolas farewell. He had departed the morning after the funeral, taking Legolas' ashes with him.
Before he had left though, he had called both Aragorn and Gimli to stand before him. Then he had placed Legolas' bow in Aragorn's hand and his twin knives in Gimli's. At the look of surprise on their faces the Elven-King had simply told them. "He would have wanted you to have them."
The two friends had been touched by Thranduil's gesture and had vowed to always cherish the gifts. They would be a physical reminder of their greatest friend.
Elrond and the twins stayed longer than most, helping and supporting Aragorn and Arwen, but eventually they could no longer ignore their duties back in Rivendell. Estel knew though, if ever he needed them, they would come back.
The last to leave was Gimli. He had to return to the Glittering Caves, though he did not know how he could rule his people after all that had happened. Yet Thranduil's words stayed with him and in them he found strength. He would not let Legolas down. However hard it may be, he had to keep on living.
~It smiled. This was a most wonderful stroke of luck. The elf's death had hit the King hard and it would take him many years to recover - if he ever did. A King weakened by grief was just what it needed. Now it had the time it needed to put its plan into action.~
*End flashback*
Aragorn slowly climbed the stairs to his rooms. Tomorrow it would be twelve years to the day that Legolas had died. In all that time the pain of losing his best friend had not lessened, though he had learned to live with it. Gimli had arrived earlier that day. It had become a ritual for them over the past twelve years to meet on that day and remember their friend and his life.
He entered the room and saw Arwen sitting up in bed. Wordlessly he undressed and got into the large bed beside her.
She waited until he was settled. When he had blown out the candle and laid down, she moved closer to him, laying her hand on his heart. "Estel?" She spoke softly, worried that what she had to say might upset him. He turned his head so that he could see her face.
"Yes love?" He said, though he did not really wish to talk. Arwen took a deep breath.
"It has been twelve years Estel and still you grieve. I know he was your best friend, but I am sure he would not want this. Legolas loved life, he would want you to live it to the full and not spend your time lingering in the past." Aragorn closed his eyes. He had known that she would bring this up sooner or later. The words hurt, but then, the truth often did.
"Oh Arwen, I know that you are right, but I cannot help it. We went through so much together over so many years that I still cannot believe that we will never meet again." He looked at her closely. "I can see how it upsets you though, so for your sake and for Legolas' memory, I will try to move past the pain." He wrapped his arms around her and she smiled.
"I'm glad my love. Legolas would be too." She moved in his arms and kissed him tenderly. "Now get some sleep."
~It growled in frustration. It had thought it had longer than this. Damn that she-elf! She was causing problems. It might have to take care of her.~
Aragorn and Gimli walked side-by-side in the palace gardens. They said little, both lost in the memories. As they came to a large oak tree, Aragorn stopped. A memory pushed its way into his mind. Suddenly, he smiled and a quiet laugh escaped him.
On hearing the laugh, Gimli turned and stared at his friend, mouth open in shock. Surely Aragorn was not laughing? Not on this of all days! "Aragorn?!" The dwarf gasped.
"Forgive me Gimli." Aragorn said, still smiling. "I was just remembering a camping trip Legolas and I went on many years ago. It started raining and Legolas was afraid I would get ill, so we took shelter in the hollow of an old oak tree. We thought we'd be fine, but the rain became a storm and the tree was no longer safe. I got out fine, but as Legolas went to get out, a great gust of wind snapped a large branch off the tree opposite and by sheer bad luck, in fell into the hollow. Legolas just pinned himself to the back of the trunk in time! I cut him out eventually, but you should have seen his face when he realised that he, a wood-elf, was stuck in that tree!" Despite himself, Gimli laughed.
"Oh, I can imagine it well enough!" He grinned. Aragorn looked down at the dwarf. There was a slight sparkle in his eyes.
"We have lingered on the pain for too long my friend. We had many good times with Legolas. Let us remember those now." Gimli nodded in agreement and approval. Aragorn was right. The elf should be remembered with smiles and laughter, not tears.
For the rest of the day they told each other stories of the adventures that they had shared with the Prince of Mirkwood. Often, Laughter could be heard ringing in the trees.
Arwen heard the laughs and smiled. Perhaps things were finally looking up.
~"No!" It cursed. Things were moving too fast! It would have to do something and soon, or all it's carefully made plans would come to nothing!~
End Chapter 3