Part Seven
Heaven Can Wait
Come back to me, come back to me
Life is blank and I can't breathe
You're not dead because you can't be
Love is eternal and I won't believe
Dust gathers on our windowsill
I look up and know what I lack
Can you see me as I still see you?
You know that I love you but you can't come back
Vénea – Come Back
TEN YEARS LATER
Aragorn held tightly to the wounded elf in his arms. "Legolas, you fool!" he ground out, fear and anxiety making his tone and words sharp. "What were you thinking?" The elf he cradled did not respond. His usually bright eyes were listless and he turned his head away from the sharp gaze of the ranger above him. Aragorn resisted the urge to cry out in frustration; what was troubling the elf so? Aragorn turned the face of his friend towards him, forcing the Prince to meet his eyes. "Is it Vénea?" he questioned softly, his once frustrated expression softening slightly. The elf he held gave the faintest of nods, but it was enough. Aragorn let lose a desperate sigh. "When you agreed to come on this campaign I knew it was too soon." He muttered half to himself and half to Legolas who still lay motionless. It was to his surprise when Legolas responded, his words weary with sorrow, "I still miss her, Aragorn. How can things go on as if nothing has changed?" Aragorn shifted his position slightly, turning the elf onto his back so he could face him fully. "It is never easy, mellon-nin," said Aragorn gently, pushing back the worry over his friend's wounds back for the moment. It was Legolas' mind that demanded the attention now. "She would not want you to live your life in sorrow over her. Did you not say she told you not to give up your immortality for her?" At the slight nod from the fair being in his arms Aragorn continued, "There you are then. She knew she would die someday and you would live. Neither of you expected just how soon that time would come, but that does not change her wishes. She would never have wanted you to live immortally in sorrow, and well you know it." Legolas did not move in is arms and eventually Aragorn was forced to check if he was still conscious. Leaning over, he brushed the sweat-soaked strands of hair away from the fair face, to see his friend's blue eyes filled with tears, and his cheeks already wet with them. Not for the first time that day Aragorn sighed. Shifting again, so that he could pull the elf into his embrace he cradled the elf's head against his chest and spoke soothingly as Legolas' control broke and he sobbed into Aragorn's already damp tunic, his hands clenching on the soft leather. Aragorn held him until the sobs faded into ragged breathing and then he pulled back slightly to stare into the tear-stained face of the proud Elven Prince. "I don't think I would have been able to do that had it been anyone but you here mellon-nin." he whispered softly as Aragorn smiled down at him. "Thank you," Aragorn's grin widened, "I am glad that I am no one else Legolas, for you would surely have killed them with those glares you were shooting me earlier, when I hustled you off the battlefield." Legolas' countenance turned sombre and Aragorn decided he could wait no longer for an explanation of his friend's actions. "Just exactly what were you doing out there Legolas?" he questioned the elf, "I saw you attempt many foolish things, almost as if you were on a kamikaze mission." He attempted a soft laugh, meaning his final sentence as a joke, but it caught in his throat when he saw the flash of guilt in the eyes of his friend. "You were?" he asked incredulously. "But, why? You have children Legolas! And it would break me to lose you now!" The elf stared at the ground for a moment before responding. "I have children, Aragorn. Children who have no mother! And what use am I to them? An inexperienced father, too lost in mourning for his wife even to see their first years!" he finished, anger at himself and his own weakness flashing in his eyes. Aragorn rocked back on his heels, "You cannot let the loss of Vénea break you, Legolas! Well I know that you loved her, but she is gone, and no amount of mourning will bring her back! You have to move on from this." Legolas looked down at the floor, shame burning in his eyes, "I am not fit to be a father Aragorn. If I could not protect their mother how will I protect them? I failed her and I do not wish to fail anyone else. I planned to end it, but I failed even that and now I have failed you by allowing you to see me thus!" he finished his voice disgusted and pounded his fist against the earth floor in anger. Aragorn was too shocked to move. Legolas had never before spoken to him of his blame over Vénea's death and this sudden revelation was shocking. Legolas continued to beat his fist against the floor, the pounding gradually getting harder and harder until blood began to trickle down his wrist. It was the sight of this blood that spurred Aragorn into action. Catching Legolas' hand swiftly in his own, he forcefully turned the elf so that he was made to stare into Aragorn's face. "You are not to blame for the death of your wife. By the Valar, Legolas! No one could have prevented it! But now you have two sons, who are desperately in need of a father. Return to them my friend, do not make Vénea's last sacrifice in vain!" Legolas' sighed wearily, "You are right, as usual," he sighed, closing his eyes briefly against the pain that seemed to radiate from every part of his body. "But I cannot raise them alone…" Aragorn pressed his hand on top of Legolas' and rested his forehead against that of his friend, "You do not have to." He said. Bleary blue eyes flew open and locked onto the silver ones of the ranger in confusion. "Who takes care of your children as we speak?" questioned Aragorn. Legolas' brow furrowed, "Osellë, but…" Aragorn held up a hand to silence him. "But nothing." He said firmly, "I have heard you speak many times of how you love her and I know that she loves you. Who could be a better foster mother for your children?" Legolas' brow furrowed once more, "Aragorn, how could I marry someone after what happened last time? You ask too much." He made as if to roll away, but Aragorn's firm hand on his shoulder stopped him. "Legolas Greenleaf, you will marry Osellë and you will be happy with her, or I will personally pull those pointed ears of yours off that thick head!" Legolas gave a small smile that did not quite reach his eyes. "Aragorn," he said gently, "how can I marry someone I do not…" Legolas' words were cut off as Aragorn clamped a firm hand over his mouth, silencing the words he had yet to speak. "Your children need a mother Legolas, and you need a wife," he said softly, his words catching in his throat. Legolas closed his eyes and sank back wearily against his friend. "You are right," he whispered. "Very well, I shall announce my intentions to Osellë on my return to Mirkwood." His eyes remained closed and he said nothing further, but a solitary tear slipped down his cheek and the soft sounds of sobbing could be heard from the tent long after Aragorn had fallen asleep.
The wedding of Legolas and Osellë was a quiet affair, held under the lofty boughs of the forest of Mirkwood. The trees themselves rustled in anticipation as the Prince and his new bride walked slowly down the aisle after the ceremony. The reception was a small, but happy affair and this time chocolate cake was most definitely avoided by all present. Aragorn and Arwen were present to offer their good wishes to the couple, and King Thranduil and many members of his court turned up to offer their support. There was a little dancing but it was soon decided that all involved would retire to their rooms for the night, giving the couple all the chance they needed to consummate their vows. No storms occurred that night but at some point past midnight a lone wind howled past the bedchamber of the newly-weds. Not even Elven hearing could properly make it out, but to the casual listener it could have sounded like the forlorn whisper of one desolate word. Softly, in that wind a female voice cried out in mourning, "Legolas!"
The two twins grew up strong under the watchful eyes of their father and Osellë. Keldarion and Estel, so named after his mother's final word and Legolas' dearest friend, were two bundles of mischief, with a quirky sense of humour that was obviously inherited from both their mother and father. Both took on the Elven traits of their father and had his luxurious blonde hair, and the wild blue eyes shared by both their parents. They had acquired Legolas' skill with a bow, his stubbornness, loyalty and even his beautiful facial features. To look at them you would think they were his doubles, but for one small fact. When their hair caught the light it shone a pure, fiery red.
The halls of Mandos were not unpleasant. But I hated every moment I was forced to spend there. I saw other spirits wandering in, much as I had done, only to be greeted and sent on to some place ahead by the unseen keeper of this place. I refused to go. Many times had the soft voice, its owner who had as yet remained unseen to me, spoken, telling me that it was my time to move on, to go into the next life where I would be at peace. I writhed inside the walls of my vast and beautiful prison, telling that soft voice that it was most definitely not my time! I shouted to the walls and any passing spirits who would listen of all I had left behind all I had to return to! More often than not I did not get a reply, but I carried on trying anyway. There was too much that I had left behind, that I wanted to see again. "I want to see my children!" I cried out, for what seemed like the hundredth time in as many days. "Why won't you let me return to them?" I pounded against the invisible barrier that held me trapped and fell against it in desperation, sobbing for breath, yet each breath feeling like it was only killing me further. "Why can't I go back to Legolas?" I whispered, my voice cracking under the strain. I leant my head against the bars of what I deemed to be this cell, and began to sob in earnest. Far in the distance I heard that elusive voice call out to me. "The halls of Mandos have always been peaceful." It said, its tone lilting and mesmerising. "Not so since you arrived. You are greatly troubled for one so young." Had it not been a voice of great ethereal beauty, I would have thought its tone to be sarcastic. As it was I replied honestly, "I want to return to my husband. I love him so, and I miss him terribly." My voice was soft and, I hoped, respectful, yet tinged with all the sadness that had weighed heavily on me since my arrival. "You are not the first to pass through these halls who has left a loved one behind." The voice reminded me softly, although there was a hint of steel behind the mild words. I hastened to explain fully the severity of my situation, "No, of that I am aware, but my husband was Legolas of the Woodland Realm. Do you know of him?" I asked, nervousness clouding my need for urgency. "Yes, I know him well," the voice replied and I could detect just the faintest hint of annoyance, it was enough to spur me into action, I was about to blurt out my entire story, when a horrifying thought crossed my mind. "You say you know him well," I questioned cautiously. The voice did not respond, but I heard what might have been a slight annoyed humph, so I got to my point with haste, "Well, he's not…due…anytime soon, is he?" There was an unmistakable sigh from the owner of the melodious voice, "No, he is not. Now will you please get on with it!" I cringed for a moment and then launched into my story full throttle, "I was captured by a mad-elf, and she tortured me because I was the Princess, but upon my rescue I went into labour early. The first baby was fine and I named him Keldarion, but then there was a second, and… well, I didn't survive, as you can probably see, because I ended up here." I finished and drew in a deep breath, pushing away the nagging the reminder that I didn't actually need to breathe, on account of the fact of being dead and all. Both the voice and I were silent for a while. After what seemed like an eternity of waiting the voice spoke to me once more, "I say again, you are not the first to pass through these halls with such a past." All hope I had harboured within me, despite how frail it might have seemed, even then, was crushed. I sagged against the barrier, all my fight gone out of me with this terrible revelation. I was never going to get out. The voice piped up again, breaking into my hopeless thoughts, "However," this one word changed everything and I hastened to scramble to my knees. "You are by far the most annoying, so I will permit you to return, if only in the hopes to save myself from obtaining a violent headache." If the voice had shown a corporeal form I would have flung my arms about its neck in gratitude, as it was I was forced to shout my exuberant thanks aloud, for the hearing of the whole hall, "Thank you! Oh, thank you!" I cried at the top of my lungs, just before a strange pulling sensation tugged at me again. Even to this day I swear that I heard that far off voice mutter, "So much for escaping from that headache," but at the time I was to overjoyed at the prospect of returning home to pay any real heed to it at all.
The woods were cold and dank. A strange smell hung on the air that was musty and yet very much alive all at the same time. It was too dark to see exactly where I lay, but from what I could feel I must have landed on a pile of very cold, very pointy twigs. I stifled a moan and tried to roll onto my side. Big mistake. I rolled right off the pile of twigs to land with a muffled thump and a very muffled curse on the unforgiving ground below. The impact winded me so that I could not even cry out to express the sudden pain that reverberated through me at this cruel landing. I heard far off voices and struggled to regain full awareness of my surroundings as the voices drew nearer, "Ai! Someone has ruined our firewood stack!" cried a voice in dismay, "And it took us so long to make too!" a voice chimed in sorrowfully. I craned my neck to try and see the owners of the voices from behind the firewood, I had heard too many ownerless voices lately and it was beginning to grate on my nerves. I should not have even attempted the movement, the sudden stab of pain caused me to cry out and it was such that I almost passed out again. Moments later the immediate pain had passed and I realised that I no longer had to strain to see the owners of the voices, they were right next to me! It took my foggy brain a few more seconds than I would have liked to realise that the two figures were Elvish and the relief that flowed through me was almost a physical feeling. Finally, I was saved! The two figures came closer, and I recognised the characteristic blonde hair of Mirkwood, this was better than I could have hoped! I summoned the last of my strength to call out to them as they approached me slowly and cautiously. Like I could have done them any harm, at that present moment it was enough of a struggle just to remain conscious. "Where…" I managed to choke out as my battered lips refused to oblige me any further. "You are on the eaves of Mirkwood," one of the voices told me slowly and I let out a ragged breath in total relief. I let go my tenuous hold on consciousness and I did not even realise when I was slung over the shoulder of one of the elves and borne away towards the Palace of Mirkwood and the home of Prince Legolas and Princess Osellë.