Chapter 2- Greif
Legolas stood gazing off into the far distance. The light clouds floated lazily through the sky above him but to his eyes they were great flocks of birds. The large gulls that frequented the ocean were never far from his thoughts now. If he froze in place, he could almost here their calls echoing across the water. He saw in the blue sky the reflection of the sea, calm and cool, eternal. It was time. Aragorn had been right all along. Legolas closed his eyes in grief. Just the thought of the name stabbed into him, as physical and damaging as metal. Aragorn. His friend. Gone now for all time and nothing he could do would bring him back. It was as unfathomable as it was deplorable.
Legolas opened his eyes again and took in the scene of the city below him. He stood in the high tower alone, waiting. The great realm of Gondor would continue in the wake of this tragedy mostly because of the efforts of young Eldarion, now King. He, like his father before him, was now forced to carry on in the place of his noble and loving parents. Orphaned and alone but for his sisters, Eldarion suffered silently avoiding Legolas and hiding behind the rules and laws of his people. He managed his kingdom, took control of his subjects and upheld the law just as Aragorn had done. There could be no fault in his ruling or in his commands. His strength and reasoning were unquestionable.
However, for all his leadership glory, Legolas knew that it was not the life Eldarion had planned for himself. It was simply the unfortunate turn of events that had forced him to this end. This was his hidden trauma and his horrible secret. For as much as the noble son of Aragorn loved the white city, the open woods and fields ever called to him. And such was the failing of the ranger and elven blood that raced through his veins. It ensured that while he would guard, lead and protect his people until the end of his days, that he would also feel the call of his wanderlust and eternally be unable to answer it.
The blond archer sighed deeply, broken from his thoughts a moment, as the silver trumpets rang out across the white walls signally the return of the riders. This was not a meeting he was looking forward to. He descended the stairs from the tower and walked the long streets to meet the caravan of horses that road at a breakneck pace through the city. He knew why they were rushing, he also knew that it was too late. Legolas stopped walking as the lead horseman saw him and turned the riders. He just wished that he didn't have to be the one to tell them. It was a cowards wish he knew, but in his misery he could not help the thought.
The elves dismounted in perfect unison, they're regal robes flowing out behind them with the wind. They raced to Legolas but stopped short just before him at the expression on his face.
Elladan's voice was clipped. "Take us to him Legolas."
The blond archer paused, no words were coming to him. He had to tell them, it should be from him but he couldn't seem to speak.
Elladan's eyes darkened. "Legolas, why do we delay?"
Legolas shook his head, there was no rush. "Elladan, I can't – "
Legolas stumbled back when Elrohir pushed him suddenly and he reacted with shock as Elladan's eyes filled with tears. Elrohir snarled, "Why are we just standing here!" His eyes were wide, fearful and imploring.
They already knew.
They had known and come anyway, and they didn't want to break down here in public.
Legolas found his voice. "This way." At a breakneck speed, they headed for the Kings Chambers, away from the crowds and into the darkness of truth.
Elrohir slammed the doors closed behind them in sync with his brother's collapse onto the ground. Elladan's body shook as he sobbed. His tears no longer able to be hidden, his grief unbearable and raw. Elrohir stood behind him, his hand on his shoulder, his eyes red. As Elladan cried as if the horrors of the world had befallen him, his brother stood frozen, his grip on his twin's shoulder rock solid.
Elladan's cries were tearing Legolas apart who watched the twin's despair with agony. They were perfect symmetry in all things physical, though in grief complete opposites. Elrohir was deathly calm, frightening while his brother's crying rocked his whole body so fiercely that he couldn't stand. While Legolas himself watched detached and alone. His grief ran so deep that breathing was an effort.
"Elrohir, Elladan." He swallowed hard when they both looked up and meet his eyes. "I'm so sorry." He shook his frustrated. That wasn't the right thing to say. "I'm so sorry." It was just all he could think of.
Elladan brushed the tears from his cheeks absently with an angry swipe and laughed. Elrohir half-smiled and said, "Apologizing for something that is in no way your fault… now that sounds familiar."
Elladan sniffed and added brokenly, "Now just who did you learn that from, I wonder?"
Legolas smiled lightly and closed his eyes. The pain swam in lazy circles through his heart. "That's not all he taught me." He didn't have to open his eyes to know the twins were watching him intently. "He taught me that nothing lasts. No one lives forever." He opened his vibrate blue eyes to meet sad grey ones. "Except in memory and in love."
Elrohir knelt beside Elladan and rested his head upon his head. "I miss him."
Legolas also knelt beside Elladan. And abruptly, Elladan embraced him. "I'm glad you were here with him, Legolas. That's the way it should be." Legolas felt the tight seal on his emotions breaking. His grief pressing out of him like a water behind a dam. His tears came suddenly and strongly and together the elves cried for their beloved Aragon, once Estel. Elrohir's eyes were filled with unshed tears voicing the question they all were thinking. "What will we do without him?"
And so in the dark room where Estel had become King, his brothers mourned his passing. All three of them.
