Well, here it is then! The last bit. I admit I feel a little sad that it's finally come to an end, but since it's my first effort, I also feel a sense of accomplishment to have seen it through.
I would like to say a HUGE thank you to everyonw who has taken the time to read and/or review. You have given me some extremely happy moments. I feel moved to start another straight away - problem is, Leggy, Haldir or both - again! What do you think - lol!
Many thanks to Miss Sofie for her unbelievable support.
Oh, and last but not least - Haldir's Heart and Soul - PLEASE don't stop reading before the end, because I've tried not to be as cruel as you feared - at least, I hope not!
I hope I'll see you on this site again soon. I know I'm going to miss your kind comments soooooo very much
Take care, everyone
Cymrulady
Forever Yours
Chapter 28
Legolas wove his way through the mass of Elven warriors, his usual regard for courtesy dampened by his impatience to speak with their Captain. He scarcely acknowledged the many bows and nods, so aware was he of the shortness of time remaining before the commencement of battle. Finally, he caught sight of a crimson cloak and he hastened his endeavour. Gimli followed him, bustling his way through as best he could, but struggled to maintain the pace of his friend:
"I never thought I would be rushing to meet with the arrogant Marchwarden of Lorien!" he panted, good-humouredly and pushed yet another indignant Elf from his path.
His progress came to a shuddering halt, as his arm was gripped firmly:
"Master Gimli!" said a cheerful voice.
The Elf bestowed a beaming smile on the Dwarf who smiled broadly as he recognised Haldir's younger brother. Rumil immediately began to question Gimli regarding the details of their journey following the leave-taking in Lorien. He could not suppress the grin which crept across his features, as Gimli launched with great enthusiasm into a tale of epic proportions, a tale which appeared to be heavily biased in favour of Dwarven valour and stamina. He also felt quite smug at the success of his ploy to ensure Legolas and Haldir would be able to talk alone. He was aware of the great friendship which had grown between the prince and his companion but was certain there were matters to be discussed which were of a private nature, so he continued to listen with rapt enthusiasm and determination.
"Haldir!"
The Marchwarden recognised immediately the voice which had called and turned quickly to greet the prince. They had met with each other formally when the Elven army had arrived, but it was not of a manner which truly reflected their long friendship and familial bond. Now they were able to meet in their customary manner, and they embraced each other warmly. However, the smile Legolas bore quickly changed to a frown, as he said, concernedly:
"I cannot express my joy at your timely arrival, Haldir, but my happiness is tinged with regret at your particular inclusion in their number. I would have thought Lorien would be better served by your remaining presence. The threat is as great for the Elven realms as for the realms of Men. Why did you come here?"
"Your question is diplomatically worded, Legolas," Haldir replied, calmly, "but I feel what you truly wish to know, is why I chose to leave behind the one so dear to us both."
He grasped Legolas' arm and led him a little way from the crowded scene before continuing:
"Truly, it was the most difficult decision I have ever had to take, and was not reached without long deliberation. It is not easy to weigh personal desires against duty, but I have trained many of the Galadhrim you see here and they have all followed my command unquestioningly for many years. I could not permit another to lead them."
Legolas looked long and hard at his friend, his dissatisfaction with the explanation clearly apparent. He shook his head, disbelievingly:
"Your dedication to duty and honour do you proud, my friend, but I do not believe this alone would be sufficient to tear you from my sister's side. There has to be something more. Tell me, Haldir. I must know. It will not sit easy with me until I do!"
Haldir smiled slightly and realised Legolas obviously knew him better than he had ever imagined to have seen through his stoicism, and for a brief moment he was tempted to unload the heavy burden of his vision. To share his worries and fears at a time of such crisis would have been somewhat comforting, but he dismissed the temptation as folly. It would serve no purpose save that of giving his friend further cause for concern. Instead, he placed his arm around the shoulders of the prince and replied:
"The tension of our situation has made you overly suspicious, I fear. Pray, do not trouble your mind with pointless thoughts. Better to seek out whatever is passably worthy to be drunk in this place of Men, that we may renew our pledge of brotherhood."
Legolas shook his head resignedly, but allowed himself to be led. They had gone no distance when Haldir suddenly stopped, his attention taken by the sight of his brother and Gimli, engrossed in an animated discussion:
"Perhaps we should take pity on poor Rumil and invite him to join us!"
Legolas raised his eyebrows questioningly and Haldir smiled warmly as he added:
"I would, of course, be honoured if our new Elven Friend also accompanies us."
Legolas laughed as he reflected on how much his old friend had mellowed in such a short time.
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Night had fallen in Lorien and Arien had scarce noticed the gradual decline into darkness as she had endlessly wandered the paths of Caras Galadhon. She came at last to a peaceful glade beside a small stream. The place was familiar and comforting as she had spent many hours there with her new husband. The calming sound of the gently running stream served to calm her anxious state and she sat upon the cool grass, close to the bank, her back against the trunk of a tree and allowed her hand to waft slowly through the cool water. She could not remember a time when she felt so bereft of happiness.
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Haldir stood upon the wall of The Deep, his face a mask of stalwart determination. Rumil stood beside him and as he stole a glance to his brother, he was gratified to see the unwavering strength and confidence of the Marchwarden. He thought to those times when his brother's skill and courage had seen him safely through many dangerous encounters on the borders of Lorien. He recalled one particular occasion when he had been wounded and lay on the ground unable to move. He had watched, helplessly, as a frenzied Orc, driven by bloodlust, surged toward him, intent on delivering the death-blow, when suddenly, Haldir appeared between them, slew the Orc with a single sweep of his sword, and held his ground against seemingly overwhelming odds, stubbornly refusing to leave his brother, despite Rumil's pleas to do so. As his thoughts returned to the present, Rumil murmured a prayer to the Valar that he might find the same courage that night, should circumstance dictate.
For his own part, Haldir struggled to reign in his errant mind which fought against his control. He knew his thoughts should have been centred solely upon the coming conflict, but his wayward musings would not be controlled. He turned to look at his brother and then Legolas and prayed they would be delivered safely. He looked about him at the cold, grey stone of the fortress, thought longingly of the cool, verdant beauty of the Golden Wood and prayed it would remain safe and unspoiled by the rampant evil sweeping the land. Finally, images of his beloved Arien danced across his consciousness, the imagery so vivid, he almost reached out to stroke her smooth, velvety cheek. His fingers tingled as he remembered the sensation of running them through her soft golden curls and he smiled slightly as he recalled her awakening each morning, safe and warm in his arms, her gentle blue eyes beseeching his first kiss of the day, a request he had always been eager to fulfil. His final prayer was for himself, and he implored the Valar to spare his life, that he might return to his love and spend the rest of eternity in blissful serenity.
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As the hours passed, Arien, drifted continually from restless slumber to wakeful unease. She did not know which she preferred, as she could control neither. Previously, she had seldom dreamed, but now, each time she succumbed to sleep, her unrestrained thoughts presented such horrific imagery that she would awaken suddenly, hands trembling, eyes moist with unshed tears. She tried thinking of the future, of promised journeys and experiences. Oft in times past, she had sat with her brother in the gardens of Mirkwood and listened enrapt, as he described the beauty of Imladris and she had longed to see it with her own eyes. Thoughts of her home made her remember she had not seen her father for some time and she yearned to journey to Mirkwood with her new husband that they may receive the official blessing of their marriage from the King and the congratulations of her people. Haldir had also suggested he might take her to see the grandeur of the cities of Men, but as she thought of the mortal realms, resentment infiltrated her mind as she saw them as the cause of her husband's absence, and once again morbidity claimed her.
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Gradually, the attention of every soldier, Men and Elves, was drawn unwaveringly to the glimmering sway of torches and low, rhythmic tramp of thousands of heavy feet and the dull clash of heavy armour and weapons.
Suddenly, the night sky was illuminated by a blinding flash of lightening, which served to provide an even better view of the oncoming terror, the accompanying downpour merely an additional trial. As the rain increased in intensity, Haldir watched the slowly forming rivulets course down his armour. Elves usually welcomed the rain as a source of life and renewal, but on this occasion, the Marchwarden regarded its arrival with dismay, as it would diminish vision and hamper endeavour. He heard the rallying words of Aragorn, firmly spoken in his mother-tongue and silently admired the resolute tone. At once, the dismal snarls and thumping of weapons from the mass below them stopped as one of the creatures emitted a guttural scream. Looking in its direction, he saw an arrow firmly lodged in its throat, the result of an over-anxious mortal's inability to maintain control. Silence fell over the throng below them, but it was soon broken by the ear-splitting roar which issued from a large Uruk-hai placed high upon a rock. The evil throng took up the cry and soon the Deep echoed with an animalistic baying and howling, which left none who heard it in any doubt but it was driven by inbred blood-lust rather than a desire to avenge the death of a comrade. They shared none of the emotions of Elves and Men for their fellow beings.
Aragorn gave the call to arms and as one; the Elves swiftly withdrew their bows and readied their arrows in preparation for the inevitable onslaught. Haldir glanced to his left at Rumil, who had mimicked his action and although the Marchwarden took comfort from the presence of his sibling, he also harboured all the feelings of responsibility beholden to an older brother:
"Courage, dear brother, courage! he said, softly, "I am here with you. Stay close to me and try not to do anything rash! Remember, dead hero's see nothing of the glory and acclaim they engender!"
Rumil allowed a faint smile to pass between them, briefly, before the order was given to fire. They began releasing their arrows with urgent swiftness as the angry horde rushed toward the wall. The missiles rained down with deadly accuracy, felling multitudes of the creature with each wave, but so great was their number, it scarce slowed their progress save providing them with the extra inconvenience of trampling over those who had fallen.
At the appearance of ladders against the battlements, some of the Elves, including Haldir and his brother, quickly exchanged their bows in favour of swords as they prepared for closer combat. As Haldir rushed to meet the first Uruk-Hai to surmount the wall, he raised his sword over his head and brought it down with crippling accuracy across the creature's middle, effectively eviscerating it. Yet another appeared, and as he moved easily into the smooth steady rhythm of years of training, Haldir fought with singular thought. For him, the past and future no longer existed. The immediate present and survival were all that mattered as he slashed and thrust his way through the ever-increasing number of Orcs and Uruk-Hai. He dared to snatch a glance to the sea of black bodies which continued to surge toward the wall like a swarm of beetles, snarling and howling their incoherent battle cries, as they fought to gain a foothold on the ladders, and realised the battle would not be soon or easily ended. He tightened his grip on the blood smeared hilt of his sword and surged onward, cutting and slicing, hacking and stabbing, only permitting momentary respites in which to confirm the continuing safety of his brother. He spotted Legolas some way off, and was gratified to see the relative ease with which the prince appeared to dispatch his adversaries. The close proximity of the Dwarf to the Elf confirmed their great friendship and Haldir felt a momentary pang of remorse for the doubts he had once harboured regarding Gimli.
Suddenly, Haldir recognised the panicked cry of his brother and turned to see three large Uruk-Hai had backed him against the wall. Rumil fought valiantly and felled the nearest, but Haldir realised he would not be able to hold out against the remaining two and without further thought, he manoeuvred his way to his brother's position. They stood back to back and had little trouble in defeating the immediate threat. Rumil barely had time to nod his grateful thanks, before their delicate Elven hearing was assaulted by a loud explosion, the violence of which threw Elves, Men and rocks into the air, delivering a fatal blow to the security of the Deep. Haldir slowly raised himself. Dust and debris spread all around, and amongst it lay the broken remains of the many dead, haphazardly strewn amidst pools of black and red blood. Anxiously, he searched for Rumil, his eyes flitting over the faces of the dead nearest to him, some of which he instantly recognised as his own Galadhrim and his heart sank. A quiet groan pulled him from his misery and he caught sight of his brother's bow and the outstretched hand which still loosely gripped it. He recognised the bow immediately, as he had crafted it for his brother himself, and he flew to his side, desperately snatching and scraping at the debris which covered him. Dragging the young Elf to his feet, Haldir quickly checked for any outward sign of wounds and was grateful to see Rumil had not suffered serious injury. As Haldir turned to observe the breech in the wall, he saw Aragorn leading a large contingent of Elven warriors and watched with pride as they courageously met the oncoming surge of Orcs and Uruk-Hai. The creatures also continued to pour over the battlements and Haldir's brief pause was soon at an end as he took up his sword once more.
Hour after hour they fought, until eventually, Haldir's attention was drawn by Aragorn:
"Haldir, return to the keep!"
Haldir did not question the order, and immediately set about relaying it to all about him. He turned to begin his own retreat and easily despatched the Uruk-hai who blocked his path, but was unaware of the close proximity of a second. It did not hesitate to attack the Marchwarden and Haldir gasped at the sudden, searing pain beneath his arm as the creature's blade sliced between the plates of his armour into the flesh beneath. He supported the now useless limb and stared disbelievingly at the blood which ran down his arm, the pain making him oblivious to the new evil which loomed behind him.
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Arien jolted abruptly from her latest nightmare with a harsh intake of breath and grasped at her side. She felt certain she had been assailed in her slumbers but was amazed to find no wound. She was consumed by a sense of panic and her breath came in rapid gasps as she struggled to understand what she was feeling. Suddenly, her eyes widened as yet another sensation racked her body.
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The Uruk-Hai did not pause in his assault and swung his broad-bladed scimitar against the back of the Marchwarden, splitting his armour and burying itself deep. Without further regard, he wrenched it free and passed by the fatally wounded Elf. Haldir struggled to breathe, so unbearably intense was the pain and sadness washed over him as he realised the portent of the mirror had at last proved to be true. No longer able to remain upright, he sank to his knees and gazed at the scene before him. So many lay dead from both sides, it was difficult to distinguish Men from Orc, Elf from Uruk-Hai. He felt his life leaving him. He no longer had strength to fight and his last thoughts were of Arien. The details he had committed to memory of their last night together, returned to him as clearly as though she were with him. Her gentle smile, her delicate touch, the smell of her hair and the feel of her skin washed over him with vivid clarity and tears fell from his eyes as he realised they would be together no longer.
Aragorn had seen the Marchwarden fall and raced to gain his side, but as he fought his way toward his friend, it was clear he was too late. He clasped the fading Elf to him in an attempt to comfort him in his last moments, and his heart filled with sorrow as the light of the Firstborn, slowly dimmed in the Marchwarden's eyes.
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Arien screamed, and dropped upon the ground as her body shuddered with heaving sobs. She had felt every heart-wrenching agonizing moment but the pain she could have withstood. What had finally broken her was the sudden unexpected sensation of her very soul being ripped apart, followed by the desolate awareness of solitude. The soul of her beloved, with whom she should have shared eternity, was no longer joined to hers and left no doubt in her mind. Haldir was dead.
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Rumil looked behind him as he made his way toward the keep to confirm his brother's presence and was horrified to see Haldir supported in Aragorn's arms. He fought his way through the retreating Men and Elves and hurried to their side, but saw immediately his brother had already passed to Mandos' Halls.
"I should not have left him!" he cried, his voice heavy with remorse. "He stayed with me, protected me and when he needed me, I was not there!"
"It is not your fault, Rumil," said Argorn, concernedly, "and you must not torture yourself with these thoughts, but we cannot remain here. Come, we must pull back!"
Aragorn lowered Haldir's body to the cold floor and dragged Rumil with him. It was all he could do to restrain the struggling Elf, but to relinquish his hold and release him would have condemned him to certain death.
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Galadriel approached the weeping elleth and knelt to place a comforting hand upon her shoulder. Arien hesitantly raised her head to look into the eyes of the Lady of Light and she snapped, accusingly:
"You knew! I can see by your expression, you knew, and yet you allowed him to go! Why?"
"I knew only of the possibility of his death and so did he. It was his choice to leave, but he had hope. We cannot live without hope, Arien, misguided or otherwise. I too felt his passing, as I have felt the passing of many this night, but his felt strongest and grieved me most. He and his brothers were quite young when they lost their parents and I took a personal interest in their upbringing. They became as dear to me as my own, and I admit, I took a certain maternal pride in all their accomplishments. When Haldir became Marchwarden of the Golden Wood, I knew there was none better or more deserving in the whole of Lorien."
Arien's anger faded as she saw the tears which fell from the Lady's eyes as she added, simply:
"I shall miss him!"
They placed their arms around each other and remained thus for some time, until Arien whispered:
"What now my Lady?"
Galadriel saw the look of utter desolation on the elleth's face and realised the princess had given up all hope. Rising, she guided Arien to walk beside her and silently led her along the path back to the city. The faint sound of a softly sung lament drifted to them, but by the time they reached the more densely populated centre, they realised the lament was interspersed with weeping. Arien hung her head as she realised she was not the only one to have lost a loved one that night. Suddenly, a healer ran to meet the Lady and begged her permission to take others to tend the injured at the Deep. The Lady was loathe to lose yet more of her people as she felt certain they would have their own battle to face, but she also knew the abilities of Men to heal were limited and did not wish to be the cause of more loss of life because of neglect. Reluctantly, she agreed.
"I shall go with them!" stated Arien, firmly.
Galadriel merely nodded her ascent, and soon a small party of healers and supplies set out for the Deep. Unlike the army, they were mounted on the swiftest horses to be found in the realm, so conscious were they of the importance of time. As they departed, Celeborn shook his head, sadly.
"You question my wisdom at allowing her to leave!" stated Galadriel. "Her fate lies with the Valar, not with me. Arien must find her own destiny."
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The battle was finally won. The timely arrival of the White Wizard, together with the valorous Rohirrim warriors, defeated Saruman's evil horde and the Deep was besieged no more.
Aragorn sought out the prince and placing his hand on his shoulder said, simply:
"I'm sorry, my friend, for your loss. I was with him at the end. It was an honourable death, about which, poems will be written and songs sung. He will be fondly remembered."
"What use are songs and poems to my sister?" replied Legolas, his voice barely above a whisper. "She lives only for him. What will her life be now, without him?"
"She still has you, Legolas and I am certain you will be of great comfort to her. Time will heal, and if the Valar permit it, you will all one day be reunited."
Legolas thought on his friend's words and hoped they would prove true. Suddenly, a cry from the gates announced the arrival of the contingent from Lorien. Aragorn and Legolas rushed to meet them and Legolas stopped short as he realised his sister was amongst them. He overcame his surprise and rushed forward to help her dismount, embracing her tenderly, but she drew away from him.
"I felt him pass!" she said, simply.
Legolas stared at the elleth before him. Her face was pale and her eyes reddened by hours of weeping. He wanted to pull her back into the encircling safety of his embrace, to speak soothing words and ease her pain, but it was not to be. Arien had travelled to the Deep with singular purpose and turning to Aragorn, she demanded:
"Where is he?"
"Arien, please come with me." begged Legolas, as he tried to lead her toward the keep. "They have yet to clear the battlements. They are no place for an elleth. Rumil is within and beside himself with grief. He would gain great comfort from your presence"
"I love Rumil dearly," replied Arien, "But I am wed to his brother and my love for him draws me to him. If you will not show me, then I shall search by myself!"
So saying, Arien turned and ran frantically up the steps to the battlements. She could hear the cries and laments of women for their loved ones. Mothers wept for their lost sons, wives clung to their children as they gathered around the remains of their fathers. So many dead, but Arien would not stop, could not stop. She had to reach him. Somewhere her love was lying cold and alone. She had sworn never to leave him. She was determined to stay true to her word and would permit no intervention. Legolas ran after her, afraid of her reaction when she finally found Haldir. He called out to her but either she could not hear him or chose not to. She came to a part where the battlements were thick with the bodies of the dead. Elves, Men and Orcs lay intertwined like so much debris thrown up on a beach after a storm. Dismembered arms, legs and heads lay amongst the grisly mass and Arien sobbed as she picked her way over them for there was no other way through. She tried not to focus on the faces of the fallen Elves for fear of recognising any of them. Faintly she heard her brother's voice carrying on the wind; he sounded frantic, desperate even, but she would not pause her relentless search. All at once, she stopped. Just ahead of her she saw it. A fragment of crimson cloak protruding from beneath the twisted body of an Uruk Hai. She threw herself upon the creature and tried to roll it away but it was too heavy. She prayed to the Valar to give her strength. She screamed in frustration at her weakness. Suddenly, a hand touched her face. A gentle touch which turned her head and drew her eyes to his. She looked into the eyes of her brother and the sadness he saw there tore into him like a blade thrust into his very soul.
"Help me!" she begged, her voice strained and broken.
He gave up all thought of removing her from her task and instead took hold of the Uruk. Together they lifted the corpse. Almost immediately, Arien released a great heart-wrenching sob and fell to her knees. She had found her love. He was lying as Aragorn had left him. His eyes gazing sightlessly at the sky. His wounds had long since stopped bleeding and the blood had dried around him, dimming his armour and staining the ground.
Arien wrapped her arms around his shoulders and lifted him to her. She buried her head in his blood-caked hair and sobbed so bitterly, her body shook with the violence of it. She lifted his head then and gazed upon his face. She looked at his lips, once so soft and warm on her own, now cold and pale. She remembered his smile, his laugh, the way his lips would turn up ever so slightly in those times he had tried to be stern with her but always failed. She looked into his eyes, eyes of deepest blue and begged all that was they would look upon her lovingly once more. She held his body closer and longed for his tender embrace, to once again feel protected and so much loved and despair washed over her as reality of what was overwhelmed the wish for what had been. She placed her hand over his heart and began to sing in a voice of unbelievable sweetness, but laden with more sorrow than Legolas had ever heard in the whole of his long life. He knelt down beside her and laid his hand upon her shoulder until her song was ended and her tears spent. Aragorn had followed them onto the battlements but he held himself apart, watching the scene unfold before him. He moved only once, to restrain Gimli who clearly wanted to help his friend in this moment of grief.
"No Gimli, I know your intentions are noble my friend, but this moment does not include us!" said Aragorn, firmly.
Gimli hung his head sadly and turned his back on the scene, no longer able to witness the sight before him.
Arien looked then into Legolas's face. Her tears were still wet upon her cheeks and he reached up to brush them away. Before he could touch her, she moved away slightly and regarded him with a small smile.
"My dearest brother. My protector and friend. Long have you guided me and cared for me. So many happy times have we shared and my memories of you are nothing but joyful, but there is always a time of parting and I fear that time has come."
Legolas looked at Arien, unwilling to accept the words she had just said. His eyes searched her face as if he were seeing her for the first time. She had spoken so calmly, so surely, he could not have misunderstood. His face became a mask of disbelief as he absorbed the words and their meaning.
"Arien, you cannot leave me! I forbid it! You will not fade! Remember your promise!" Legolas cried out.
Arien placed her hand on his and said gently,
"I remember my promise dearest one but I have also promised another that I would not leave him alone. What is left in this life for me now that Haldir has gone? Am I to spend the long years of my life grieving for him and the love we once had? Am I to lie awake at night thinking of him roaming the Halls of Mandos desolate and alone? I love you dearly, Legolas, but your love alone is not enough to keep my soul alive. I will join him for sure, whether now or later and I choose now. Without him I am but an empty shell. Better that our souls are united in death than to live forever alone."
Legolas could say nothing. He knew that she had made her decision and nought he could say would alter the course she had set for herself. Instead, he pulled her gently into his arms and placed a soft kiss on her head.
"Little sister," he murmured, "I thank the Valar for all the joy you have brought to me throughout the years we have had together. I think I shall never again walk happily in the woods of our home for I will forever see your shadow amongst the trees and upon the grass. I see now that you have chosen your path and there is nothing I can do to alter what will follow. Know only that I love you and will always hold your memory close to my heart."
Arien returned his kiss and replied, softly
"Tell Adar, I pray he will forgive me my decision, but remind him also of the time he told me that it was only his love for us which stopped him following our mother when she passed from this life. Perhaps remembering this will help him in his time of grief. As for you, my gentle brother, I pray for your safe-keeping in the times ahead and hope one day we may be reunited".
She removed herself from his embrace and lay down beside her love. She placed her hand on his chest and laid her head on his shoulder. Closing her eyes and uttering a prayer for her deliverance, Arien passed quietly from Ardar to the Halls of Mandos. Legolas watched helplessly, as the light of the Eldar faded from her and he hung his head in sorrow and wept.
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Years later, when the Ring had been destroyed and peace prevailed once more throughout Middle Earth, Legolas and Gimli stood within the borders of Lorien before two low mounds which marked the graves of his sister and her beloved. He knelt before them and ran his hand lightly over the cushion of flowers which covered them, as his tears coursed freely down his cheeks. He had shared many adventures with his friend and had seen many wondrous places, but as he recalled the beauty of the Glittering Caves or the dark mystery of Fangorn, he still felt the sadness of knowing he had wanted to share his experiences with Arien. He remembered how enthralled she had been as a child, when he had told her of his travels and of the promises made to someday take her with him.
"Come away, lad!" said Gimli, gently. "She would not want to see you this sad. There is still much to be done and plenty to occupy your days. Many are the Elves who look for a new home, one which does not carry with it the sadness of recent times. Will you not consider King Elessar's offer and set up your own colony in South Ithilien?"
Legolas looked to his old friend and smiled:
"Aye, you are right, Gimli. There is still much to do and to establish a new realm would be a worthy task."
So saying, he plucked a handful of the plants and tucked them carefully inside his tunic.
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Many years later, Legolas walked alone in his garden in the new realm. He paused beside a small hillock which was carpeted with the same flowers he had brought with him from the burial place in Lorien. His thoughts turned to Arien and Haldir and he wondered whether they had yet passed from the Halls of Mandos to the Undying Lands. He thought also of past friends; of Rumil and Orophin, who had departed Middle Earth shortly after the War of the Ring as they could no longer endure life there without their cherished brother. King Elessar had passed away but a few years previous and his dear queen, the Elven Princess, Arwen, had succumbed to the curse of Men, so readily accepted as a condition of her marriage to a mortal. Of the original Fellowship of the Ring, only Gimli and he remained, and Legolas came to a decision. Seeking out his stalwart friend, he stated, quietly:
"I think it is time for our last, great adventure, Gimli. Will you come with me?"
Gimli smiled broadly and replied:
"I'd go with you to the ends of the earth, my fine princeling, so to go a little further is neither here nor there!"
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The day finally arrived when their ship was ready to sail and the two friends stood side by side upon the deck and watched the shoreline of Middle Earth fade into the distance.
After many days and nights, Legolas's heart leapt as he spied distant land. As they drew closer, the breathtaking beauty of Valinor overwhelmed him and he could not help but weep with joy. Gimli stood beside him, speechless with awe, as he silently made obeisance to the undisputable power and grace of the Valar. As the ship sailed into the harbour, Legolas could scarce believe his eyes as he stared toward two figures, male and female who stood hand in hand upon the dock, as if waiting patiently for the ship to arrive. As soon as the vessel pulled alongside, he did not wait to disembark in the normal manner, but vaulted over the handrail. He felt as though his legs were weighed down by lead as he willed them to carry him toward his target even faster. Finally he was within a few paces and the female released the hand she had been holding and advanced to meet him:
"You have taken too long, my brother!" she said, smiling.
Legolas threw his arms around her, hugged her tightly to him and buried his face in her soft, fair curls as he whispered, happily:
"Arien!"
END
Hope that was OK. If you'd like to R&R, it would help me through my withdrawl symptoms - lol! Thanks.
