ch 23 Lost
Irime ran to the gates of Caras Galadhon when she heard the elven horns' sweet melody. Dew still clung to the grass, and was swept away on her feet as she ran. She had been told of Elladan's capture and was delighted that he finally returned. Elrohir had not spoken with her since their encounter in the healing ward. Legolas had remained with her, a silent sentry who watched her with a diligence that bordered on obsession. Orophin had come and gone with the other elves of the border patrol. They had spoken only a little. Irime could not keep the broad smile from her face as she neared the walls. Her brother in spirit and blood had returned. With him came the one who was a shadow in her joy, and a painful memory that still walked beside her.
Breathless in her elation, Irime met the elven soldiers as they passed through the gates. Her smile faded when she saw their grim, shamed expressions. There were others beside her; their eyes were misted with confusion. Her eyes skipped over the faces, hoping to find who she sought. At last, she laid eyes upon Elrohir. She smiled and reached up to him as he passed. As her fingers brushed his horse's shoulder, the halfelf turned to her.
Irime stepped back when those haunted eyes looked into her own. What had been shining, crystalline orbs were devoid of everything but grief. They were empty of both soul and living emotion. His eyes slid over her like a weak arrow over strong armour. He did not seem to see her.
"Elrohir . . ." She called to him softly. His eyes slowly focused on her own, but there was no acknowledgement in their depths.
It was only when she heard the gasps of others that she looked away from Elrohir and toward the gate. Her gut twisted viciously when she saw what was passing through. Elladan had been laid on bier and wrapped in fine white linen. His pale face was open to the sky, but saw nothing and was scarred almost beyond recognition. She covered her mouth with her hand and her breaths were shuddering. Elladan was dead. His surviving twin was as lifeless as any corpse. Her world had fallen from the heights of Taniquetil to the bottom of the pits of Angband. Her knees buckled beneath her, but she felt strong arms wrap around her to keep her from hitting the ground.
There was a void in her chest that ached for her brother, for both of her brothers. The tears that fell did not seem to fill that emptiness at all. Legolas spoke quietly to her, trying to ease her grief, but it was to no avail. "Hush, dim hiril, ereb hiril, quiet, quiet, shhh." (sad lady, lonely lady) He cooed, as if to spooked horse. "Firith ar nov hiril, no din. U-nallo. U-nallo." (Fading and hollow lady, be silent. Do not cry. Do not cry.) Legolas gently lifted her up and led her away from the mass of elves that had gathered at the gate. A few eyes lingered on the grief stricken elf woman as she was led away.
Once they were in the forest, Irime began to calm herself. Her face was red and tear stained. Legolas held her arm and walked slowly with her. "He is gone." Her voice was dull.
"Aye."
"Forever."
"Aye, my lady."
"Did you see him?"
"I did."
"They both are gone."
Legolas could say nothing. Admitting the loss of both of his friends was too much. He shut his eyes tight to hold back his own tears.
"You are silent." It was merely a quiet whisper, but Legolas heard it. He turned away. "You could have saved them." Her soft words caused him to stop walking and nod. "You are wrong, Legolas." She sighed. "You too would be dead, although perhaps not below ground." A mad light flashed in her eyes, and she threw back her head, laughing maniacally.
Legolas stared at her. "Irime . . . ." She did not respond, but continued in her fey laughter. "My lady!" She stopped and turned to him, but the strange fire in her eyes was still there. The Prince shuddered; the light in her eyes was terrible and cold and changed.
"Prince . . . ." Her lips twisted into a feral grin. "Go rule your kingdom, and leave the spirits to me!" She tore away from him, laughing once again in her dillusional world.
"Irime!" He ran after her, and snatched her arm. "My lady!"
"Leave me!" She chuckled. "I am not alone here. Go, princeling! You have your kingdom and fine ladies waiting for you!" She escaped his grip once more and disappeared into the trees. Legolas fell to his knees. Her mind had fled as swiftly as the carrion birds come to a battlefield. She was lost to him, and he knew that now it was forever.