Summary: Legolas tries to come to terms with the fact after that fatefull attack of the Wargs, he has lost the only person he has loved, Aragorn, son of Arathorn. Aragorn in turn tries to cope with the knowledge that it was not Arwen that appeared when he was so near death, but Legolas. And then...the fateful evening Aragorn reappears at Helm's Deep, very much alive. Their feelings for each other once more surface and they must decide what to do, since that very night one of them might die...
Whispering A Heart's Sorrow
The wind stung my face, drawing out tears. Or at least that was my excuse. What would they think if they knew I was crying over the one man I could ever love. Or for that matter, do I really care? My heart lay in pieces at my feet, my entire body was numb, I couldn't feel, couldn't think. How would I continue on this journey without the man who gave it all hope? Was it really just a week ago that we shared a night of passion in the woods? Could it be that just when I realized that he did love me, that I lost him?
The tears ran in twin rivers down my cheek as I stared over the edge of the cliffs where that yrrch claimed Aragorn fell. And how could we not believe him, he was holding the Evenstar, a beloved item of Aragorn's that he would never part with had he been alive. I looked down, not bothering to wipe the tears away and one dripped on the necklace I held in my hand. Such beauty, given to him by another beauty, one who loved him as much as I did. I brushed the tear away with a slender finger and slipped it around my neck. Until I saw Arwen again, I would wear it, to keep him close to my heart. So that I way I know that I did not lose him without knowing how he felt for me. It was selfish of me, but I hoped that his last thought was of me and the single night we spent together.
Turning I glanced at the men who gathered the wounded. The battle with the Wargs had been fierce and many were lost or injured. Without Aragorn I did not know how we would last the night at Helm's Deep, even if Gandalf returned. The odds were agianst us and for the first time, I felt despair well in my stomach. These people, this brave souls who were merely following their king, were going to die before the morning. And I had to no one to turn to. The tears came back but I stubbornly blinked them away and turned to the horse Gimli lead over to me. I was careful to wipe my face clear of any emotion that would betray my love for Aragorn to him. But I think he noticed anyways because he patted my hand and nodded, "Aye, lad, we all will miss him."
"Some more than others, Gimli." was my soft reply as I mounted and pulled him up beside me. King Theoden gave the call to ride and I turned my horse, looking at the cliffs one last time before following. We reached Helm's deep before nightfall, having rode hard to get there. The gates clattered open and the hooves of our horses threw up sparks as we galloped through. A young boy, hardly more than ten, stepped forward and took the reins. We slid down, each heading in a different direction, Gimli to Lady Eowyn, and myself to a quiet place to mourn the loss of my lover.
I heard Eowyn's voice and paused, "Where is he? Lord Aragorn?"
There was something there, and I had to turn to look, just to see for myself. And it was there as Gimli gave her the news. The draining of blood from her pale face, the widening of her blue eyes and the utter shock of one who has lost her lover. How dare she. What did she know of loving him. What did she know of how it was to love him when knowing he also loved another. She did not love him, not like I did, and not like Arwen did. She merely thought she loved him because he rode into the rescue. She was looking for a savior and found one in Aragorn. Had it been some other man who arrived and helped free her uncle, who gave him council, she would claim to love that man. She knew nothing of love.
It ripped another hole in my heart, just to think that she loved him. And the small lingering doubt that appeared with this knowledge, that maybe Aragorn felt something for her. He was a kind man and could not have missed the feelings she project towards him. Did he encourage her, or did he tell her the truth, that it could never be since he loved another. I remember a conversation they had before the wargs attacked and she asked about the Evenstar. My hand came up to brush it with the tips of my fingers as I remembered his response, "She is leaving Middle Earth with the last of her people." That was all he said. But he did not say a thing about loving her.
That gave me hope as I walked away, heading away from the crowds. He did not mention loving her. Could that be a sign that he did love me more than he love her? Or was it a sign that in my grief I was looking for a way to validate my feelings for him. I did not know. I found a small corner, secluded, and sat, curling myself into a ball and weeping. Weeping for what I have lost and weeping because now I would never truly know if his words were true, even though we promised not to speak of that night again, for his sake. My sorrow echoed through the soft song I began to sing in Elvish, a language only I here understood. And through that I confessed my feelings, my true feels. And I asked the Valar to bless me with one last wish, to see him again...
TBC
Author's Note: So what do you think? I don't think I did a good enough job expressing his emotions...but you might think differently. Well enjoy. More to come later.