The gates opened without Aragorn even having to request entrance. Almost immediately after he rode inside, he and Hasufel were surrounded by an astonished crowd. Murmurs of "he's alive!" were all around him, but the only voice the ranger was interested in one voice that he heard; the one that was the one that was bellowing, "Where is he? I'm going to kill him!"
Gimli broke through the crowed and gaped up at Aragorn. "You are the canniest, bravest, and most reckless man I ever knew," he declared, engulfing the man in a hug. "Bless you, laddie!"
Aragorn indulged in the reunion for only a second. "Gimli," he said urgently, "where is Legolas? And where is the king? I need to see them both."
"The king is in the throne room here," replied Gimli, looking up at him. "The last I knew, Legolas was up in the battlements. You can get to both through the main hallway, but find the elf first and find him soon. That lad seemed to die too when we thought you were gone."
Aragorn took off at once without another word, following the hallway that Gimli pointed out. The thought of marching uruk-hai was gone; that Legolas could be dead right now from grief was the only thing on his mind right now. "For his love, the Sun Star will die." Galadriel's words came into his mind unbidden. Had she foreseen this moment when she told him that? How could he go on knowing that he was responsible for his lover's death?
He was so lost in thought that he didn't notice Legolas standing right in front of him until they were only inches apart. The elf had seen Aragorn's arrival from his spot on the battlements. With a quick explanation to Eowyn, asking her to order that the gates be opened, he rushed down as fast as his relief-weakened body would move to find his love. Even though he'd known, or at least stubbornly believed, that Aragorn was still alive, being so close to him again was almost overwhelming. There was so much to say: I love you. I was so afraid. Thank the Valar that you're here with me again. Never leave my side again. "Le abdollen (You're late)," he finally said.
Aragorn stared at him and Legolas noticed how ragged and tattered he looked. Blood was caked on his clothing. Mud had dried on his hands. His entire body was cut and bruised. "You look terrible," he said, his voice breaking. "I've never seen a more beautiful sight."
A large smile spread over Aragorn's face. "I was just thinking the same thing," he whispered. The inches between them closed and they kissed passionately and desperately, trying to erase the memories of grief and pain.
The kiss broke. Legolas held out his right hand, revealing the greenleaf gem. "You lost this," he whispered hoarsely.
Aragorn took the jewel, allowing his fingers to give Legolas' hand a lingering squeeze. "Hannon lle," he said. "I was so afraid I'd lost this forever."
Legolas smiled tearfully. "It was not meant for an orc," he said. "It belongs to you, as does my heart and soul."
Aragorn stared at it and then at his lover. "And now it's back where it belongs," he breathed. "We can't stay here, my love; I must talk to the king immediately."
"What's happened?" asked Legolas, alarmed at the change in Aragorn's voice.
"Saruman is sending an army this way," Aragorn told him. "Come; there isn't a moment to lose."
As he turned to follow the man, Legolas' eyes fell on Eowyn standing in the shadows. She gave him a sad but brave smile and he knew she was happy for him, even though his happiness caused her pain. He smiled back in thanks and understanding before he took off.
#################
A shadow of fear was on Legolas as he, Aragorn, and Gimli walked among the men - or males at least, for not all were old enough to be considered men - of Rohan as they gathered gear for battle. King Theoden was only sure of two things: that the walls of the fortress could withstand even a large army of uruk-hai with the power and will of Saruman on their side; and that they were alone in the fight. Now, instead of sending for help, he ordered every male from the old and infirmed to young children to arms themselves. 'Ai, Elbereth,' Legolas thought miserably as he stared at a boy who was struggling to hold his sword upright. Some of those boys looked to be the same age that Aragorn had been when they first met...
"These are no soldiers," muttered Aragorn. "Old farmers and stable boys don't make an army no matter how well they're armed."
"Most have seen too many winters," agreed Gimli.
"Or too few," piped in Legolas, still staring at that boy. He turned his gaze to everyone in the room. In his opinion, everyone in there had seen too few winters. "They're frightened. I can see it in their eyes."
The room was suddenly quiet, but Legolas couldn't hold it in anymore. "Boe a hyn (And they should be)," he continued. "Neled herain dan caer menig (Three hundred against 10,000)?"
Aragorn had a desperate look on his face. "Si, beriathar hyn ammaeg na ned Edoras (They have more hope of defending themselves here than at Edoras)," he insisted, although he knew any hope they had was fading fast.
"Aragorn, nedin dagor hen u-'erir (They cannot win this fight.)," Legolas persisted, fear now evident in his voice. Natha daged dhaer (They are all going to die!)!"
Aragorn's patience was gone. Right now was definitely not the time for this! "Then I will die as one of them," he declared angrily. He turned and stalked away, not seeing Legolas' face crumple.
"Let him go, laddie," Gimli advised, squeezing the elf's hand to stop him from chasing after the fuming man.
"Everyone is going to die," Legolas said slowly, almost to himself. "Death is everywhere I look."
Worried, Gimli led Legolas to a quiet corner and, with a little urging, got him to sit on the floor. "Stay here," he ordered gently. "I'm going to find you some armor."
"I've never worn armor before," Legolas answered, his voice sounding far away and fuzzy.
"Now is a good time to start," said Gimli as if he were talking to a spooked child.
After Gimli departed, Legolas was alone with his thoughts. Everyone was going to die; old, young, man, woman, everyone. He thought of Moria, where the dwarves died in chain mail with the axes still in their hands. Would that be how someone would find them one day? The horrifying image of Aragorn's decomposing body still clutching his sword flashed in his mind and despair filled him. He was so wrapped up in his own turmoil that he almost didn't hear three men - one old and the others young - approach.
The men didn't notice him hidden away there. "It was difficult to say good-bye to her, of course," the old man was saying. "45 years isn't long a enough time to spend with the one you love."
"It sounds like a long time to me," said one of the young men. "I've only been married for two years. This isn't how I wanted our life together to end."
"You never know when it will end," the other young man said. "I didn't expect my wife to die so young, but the illness took her anyway."
"I don't think I'd have survived going through what you did," murmured the first young man.
"I didn't think I could do it either," replied the widower. "But what other choice did I have? I couldn't give up living; I could just imagine what she's say to me about that when we meet again beyond this world."
Their conversation continued, but Legolas stopped listening to digest all that he'd overheard. In that hour, when all was at its darkest, the shadow of fear on him departed.
###############
Aragorn determinedly readied himself for battle. He would not let Legolas' despair affect him. On when the chain mail, then the vest. How could Legolas not check his words and frighten all that heard? He tightened on his belt, securing his knife around his waist. He thought his lover had left all of that behind in Lothlorien. He tied the ties on his vest. Now all he needed was his sword, but when he turned to pick it up, he got a shock. Legolas was by his side, holding the sword out to him.
"I'm sorry," said the elf. "I was wrong to despair."
Aragorn's anger evaporated as he accepted the sword. "U-moe edared, Legolas (There is nothing to forgive.)."
"No," said Legolas. "There is something to forgive and I need you to hear this." He took a deep breath and continued. "Elves promise to love forever because we can keep that promise. Even death is only a temporary separation for us, as elves in the Halls of Mandos are released into Valinor. I have always loved you as an elf loves."
"Men cannot promise forever," he went on. "They have no assurance for eternity. I was afraid, Aragorn; afraid because I didn't want to acknowledge that one day our love in this world will have to end and no one can promise me that we'll be together again. I don't want you to die and I don't want to experience the grief that will come to me when you do, but I do want us to be together for as long as we both have here, even if it's just for one more night. Our love is stronger than even my worst fear. I'll love you for as long as I have to live and will have faith that there is more than shadow and memory beyond death. I understand now and can be strong enough to love you as mortal Men love."
Aragorn, daring not to trust his voice at the moment, reached out to Legolas. He caressed his love's lips with his fingertips as if he could feel the words that Legolas had just spoken. The elf didn't move, but let out a sigh and let his eyes flutter shut. Legolas knew the grief that would come with his death and believed their love was worth any pain...
A crash at the door made him draw his hand back. Gimli stood there, wearing a coat of mail that pooled around his feet. "It's a little tight across the chest," he groused.
Legolas and Aragorn exchanged amused glances, but any response they might have made to this was cut off by a horn blow in the distance. "That is no orc horn," Legolas informed them.
#################
Legolas walked through the land littered with dead bodies. May Rohirrim had perished in the battle. The host of elves from Lothlorien who had come unbidden to their aid were now in Mandos' Halls. But they'd won the battle. Rohan still survived because of the bravery of everyone who fought. He focused on that as he sought out Gimli; they had a score to settle.
He found the dwarf sitting on the body of a dead uruk-hai and smoking hip pipe. "Final count," Legolas announced, fingering his bow, "42."
"42?" repeated Gimli. "That's not bad for a pointy-eared elvish princeling. I myself am sitting pretty on 43."
Quick as ever, Legolas hauled out his bow and fired an arrow between Gimli's legs and into the uruk. "43," he said triumphantly.
"He was already dead."
"He was twitching."
"He was twitching," exclaimed Gimli in annoyance, "because he's got my axe embedded in his nervous system!" He gave his axe a good shake and the orc did indeed twitch.
Legolas laughed. "That's like a morbid child's toy," he observed, lunging forward and grabbing the axe handle. "Let me try it!"
"Never touch a dwarf's axe!" scolded Gimli. He grabbed Legolas' hands and froze. "Laddie, do you feel well?"
"Well enough," Legolas answered, confused. "Elves don't get sick, you know."
"Are you sure about that? asked Gimli with concern. He rubbed Legolas' hands with his own. "Your hands are cold."
To be continued...
Remember that scene between Elrond and Arwen in Return of the King? :) Another evil cliffhanger...
