OH MY GOD! I have finally finished this story. I chose an ending. And I wrote it. I am happy. My next Lord of the rings fic may come along quite soon!
Save Me
My Dearest Love.
With speed in his legs that he didn't know he had, Aragorn ran forth, and seized the still body of the prince from the dark haired elf, and, falling to his knees, he cradled him as if he were a fragile babe.
The princes' eyes were closed, and his expression was peaceful once more. There were silvery tears running down his cheeks, but they were not his own, they were the tears of the man who had been his lover in life, and who now mourned him in death.
"Dear Heart…" the words almost caught in the king's throat as he bowed his head over the still form of the pale prince "I am so sorry… I thought you gone or… or I would have sought you out, if only I had explained, oh my love my dear love I wish I had had the courage to explain."
He curled the elf against him and buried his face in the soft silver hair, crying as brokenly as a small child who has lost its mother.
After a time and with resignation he settled the still body of the prince down on the cushions, carefully brushed the shining hair away from his face and pressed a final, very delicate kiss to the princes cool lips. "Farewell my dearest love. I will see you when darkness finally claims my life."
Gazing down at the princes' face for a few moments, he felt one final tear roll down his cheek and watched with awe as it dropped down onto the face of the elf.
Shaking his head slightly, he got to his feet "He will be buried here." He murmured quietly "And my heart will go with him, fare-thee-well prince of Mirkwood. I am sorry that I let you down so totally."
The time that Aragorn spent in Mirkwood was short, he stayed to see the prince buried, and then, with a heart so heavy as to have been made of lead, he began his journey back to Gondor.
The first few weeks after the princes' death he spent in relative seclusion, not even Arwen's presence would be tolerated, and it seemed that this new manner in the king would go on for ever, even after Arwen divulged that she would in some months time bear him a son, he still remained chill and callous.
But one day it changed, or rather, more accurately, one night.
It was six months exactly since the death of the elven prince of Mirkwood, and Aragorn had chosen to spend the night in the grounds, the one place in which he could imagine he was not trapped within the palace walls.
He had just made his way down to the small pool, when half a year before he had stood and remembered in detail the lover he had now lost, and once again this night the memories came to him, so clear that when he saw the moon reflected in the clear waters of the pool, the shape of the lady of the night seemed in fact to shift, and morph into the face of the much beloved prince who had moved on to a better world.
Aragorn had to shiver at the intensity of his memory, and cast his eyes about him as he did so, for in some strange way it felt that at this moment he wasn't actually as alone as he thought. It was unnerving.
"Aragorn." He spun around, expecting to see something behind him, but he couldn't see anything. The voice had been wispy…
"The wind." He said aloud to himself "You're imagining things."
"Aragorn… Aragorn…" Twice again he heard his name called, and though he searched futilely about him, he could still see nothing, no-one. He was alone but…
"I am here Aragorn. You have called out for in your sleep so many times… but I have never left you my beloved…"
Aragorn's breath caught as he felt something cold touch his cheek and his eyes widened as he saw a faint silvery hand withdraw from his face.
"Legolas…" he murmured… "But how…?"
"I cannot move on with out you letting go my love." The voice was still quiet "But even then I think I would not go."
He could see more now, the faint outline of a figure, a face, eyes nose and lips, those beautiful lips… "Why?" his voice was little more than a croak.
"Because I will wait for you. I will always wait for you." The translucent form embraced Aragorn, but he could barely feel it, there was only cold.
"I'm sorry Legolas." He murmured quietly "I'm sorry I didn't come and save you."
"I know. I can't continue his for very long. It is difficult. You must promise me something Aragorn."
"Yes?" he could manage no more, the emotions running though him stole his words.
"Stop blaming Arwen and yourself. You will soon have a son. You must look after him. I will always be with you. And you will join me again when your time has come. Any sooner and you will not. Do you understand?" his form grew a little fainter.
"I do." Aragorn murmured "Fear not, I will not end my life. Especially not now."
Legolas nodded, and Aragorn felt a chill kiss being placed on his lips. "Beloved, I will see you again."
With that the shade of the prince was gone. And Aragorn was changed. He would honour the elf's wishes.
The small procession wound its way slowly into the depths of Mirkwood, the ancient strong hold of the elves. The tree's still offered the same light green roof and still allowed the green summer light to filter through to the ground as the spirits of the ancient trees whispered softly to the travellers who bore through them the heavy load.
There were tears from the small crowd as the casket was lowered into the deep hole that had been dug into the ground at the foot of a two-thousand year old tree, a very short distance from a mound that was now covered in lush summer grass.
As the new hole was filled in, a young man strode forward, a heavy gold crown on is head, and pressed a large stone slab into the supple earth.
"Rest in Peace" The youth read "Aragorn Son of Arathorn. In this your final resting place, as you requested, by the Side of Legolas, The Prince of Mirkwood."
He stepped back and brushed his head back from his eyes "I will look after Gondor Father, and Mother, I promise you this."
The small party stayed a while beside the two graves, the fresh and marked grave of the King of Gondor, and the older, unmarked grave of his truest love, the elegant Prince of Mirkwood. Legolas Greenleaf.
As the day became night, and the gentle light of the lady moon replaced that of the lord of the day, two silvery figures took their places between the two graves, and embraced in the moonlight
"My love…" the taller, long haired one murmured, leaning against the other "You have returned to me."
"I have." The other stated, with a smile "And now, we truly will be together forever. Loved in life, loved in death."
"Yes." Was the sighed reply "Forever."
They kissed then, the kiss they had been denied by a death that had come too soon, and their shades began to fade, together they finally made their way to the world beyond, where they would be able to stay with each other until the end of the mortal world, and beyond.
The End.
Thank you for sticking with me. I hope you have enjoyed this story.
