Summary: Songfic to Work Song by Hozier watch?v=nH7bjV0Q_44 The people of Rohan and the remainder of our foursome cope with the loss of their friends and family. Rated T by Caitie (Arwen & Legolas) (Eowyn & Aragorn)

March 4, 3019

In the years to come Aragorn wouldn't remember the words he said to Eowyn, even moments later he couldn't remember how he had told her. Maybe he hadn't said anything at all. All he would remember was the look of unbelief as she pushed past him, forcing herself into the room that smelled of death and grief. There was a quiet gasp behind him and he knew Eowyn had found the body. Eomer and Aragorn followed her inside. He looked at the room as if it was the first time he'd seen it.

Legolas' body rested on the bed, his eyes closed as if he slept. The blood covering his clothes and the sheets told another story. Arwen sat in one corner of the room, her knees curled up to her chest. Her reddened eyes stared unblinkingly at the body. The early morning light reflected off the drying tear tracks on her cheeks. Dry blood was matted into her hair and caked onto her cheeks and dried onto her hands and clothes. She was a mess, but who wouldn't be after a night like she endured?

Aragorn walked around to stand beside Eowyn, tears were welling in her eyes and she was shaking her head. "No, no, no," she whispered to herself. "He's sleeping, right?" she asked Aragorn desperately. "Right?" She turned to face him. When he gave no answer the tears spilled from her eyes and she dropped to her knees on the hard wood flooring.

Eomer walked past them to Arwen and knelt beside her. He rested a hand on her shoulder but she ignored him, her eyes never leaving her husband's prone form. It was then that Eowyn noticed her in the corner. "Arwen," she said so quietly that it was barely above a whisper. She went to her and knelt in front of the Elf. "Arwen," she said a little louder now. Arwen still looked to Legolas. "Arwen," she said through her tears, Eowyn's hands grabbing her shoulders.

Aragorn realized then that Arwen had never known true death. Her family was still alive, even her mother was still alive just no longer in Middle Earth. This was the first death that had been close to her. He sighed. "Eowyn," he whispered, putting his hand on her shoulder. "Give her some time."

Eowyn looked up at him, she could barely make out his face through her tears. Her arms dropped and her head lowered. He could hear her crying. Aragorn knelt and pulled her into him, she clung to his body, holding onto his shirt in her fists as her tears soaked through it. As he held her against him he watched Arwen. He watched her lifeless eyes flicker as she came back to reality. She got to her feet and started towards the door.

Eomer jumped up after her. "Arwen!" he called to her as she disappeared into the hallway.

"Let her go," Aragorn said. "She needs to be alone."

..::..

Down in the keep the people of Rohan were gathering their belongings together and readying themselves for the trek home. In the quiet of the battlements Arwen stared down at her blood stained hands on the low wall of the battlements. The pale sunlight made the tears on Arwen's cheeks glitter.

"There you are, Lass." The voice was heavy with the accent of the Dwarves from the east. "I've been looking for you." Gimli came up beside her. As Arwen looked down at him the tear that clung to her chin fell down onto her boot. Gimli sighed. "I met your husband once before all this began, many years ago, I'd wager even before you really knew him." Gimli turned, putting his back against the low wall since he couldn't see over it anyway. "He was a different person then but no less stubborn or passionate. It was just after the Battle of Five Armies; my mother, myself, and many other Dwarves were traveling home to Erebor now that it was free of the dragon. We traveled through Mirkwood escorted by Legolas and a small entourage. Being a small boy still I had heard the stories of the Mirkwood spiders and was terrified. You husband never said a word to any of us." Gimli looked up at Arwen. "M'lady, do you know when the feud between Elves and Dwarves started. I myself cannot remember, been too many years." Gimli watched a tear make it way down her cheek. "When I saw him in Rivendell I drew the automatic conclusion that he was still the cold person my father described in his stories about those old days, and that he was still the man I saw in Mirkwood. That is until I saw two small little Elflings." He smiled. "I only saw them twice but those children of yours are more full of life than a Hobbit at a party."

"And now they'll never know their father," Arwen said quietly.

"She speaks," Gimli said, looking up. "You'll just have to tell them stories."

"Stories are not the same."

"No, but they are better than not knowing him at all."

They were silent for a few minutes. The sun was high in the sky now but it was still cold in the March wind. "This was not supposed to happen," Arwen whispered as fresh tears spilled from her eyes. "Legolas was supposed to come home to me and the twins. I wasn't supposed to kill him."

"Do you believe in fate, m'lady?" Arwen looked down at him without answering. "I don't. I believe there is a power out there that surpasses us. It chooses when people meet, what they do with the time they're given, and when their time is up. Like puppets we are forced to be and do what they will. You didn't kill him, m'lady."

"And what if you're wrong, master Dwarf?"

"Then everything I said is false. Everything, but that you didn't kill him. And if I am, I wouldn't choose to live my life believing anything different."

..::..

The sky was a dark blue, the thin grey clouds were the only things to separate the endless blue above the world. Fires dotted the plains before Helms Deep, the fires of those who had passed. The sounds of crying people were carried by the wind.

That same wind blew Arwen's dark hair across her face. Before her was a pyre of broken doors and floor boards, behind her stood her friends and those who had come with her from Rivendell and Lorien. She tuned out the sounds of strangers mourning their loved ones, leaving only the sound of fires crackling and Eowyn's quiet tears.

Moonlight was strained through the clouds shine dully on those below. It caught on the blonde hair of the corpse on the pyre, its white light causing Legolas' pale face to glow. Arwen stared at him unblinkingly, her eyes dry for the first time since he passed. She felt a hand rest on her shoulder. "It is time," Gandalf's deep voice said behind her. His hand retreated from her shoulder and reached out, a torch was passed to him from Eomer. Arwen could see the torchlight from the corner of her eye as it grew brighter and closer. "Take it, child," Gandalf said as he passed it to her. Her hand tightened around the wood shaft as the fire danced before her eyes.

..::..

"Don't say it," she whispered, pleading with him. There was still time. "Please don't say it."

"Goodbye."

"No," she repeated that word over and over again.

His eyes opened and the face he expected to see was gone. Above him was green, the green of trees in the middle of summer. They were all around him, and endless forest surrounding his prone form. "Arwen," he whispered her name, sitting up. Where was he?

"Arwen," Legolas started to say her name but it caught in his throat.

"Legolas," she whispered, her eyes wide with fear, behind him she saw an Uruk-hai, his hands free of any weapons.

Legolas reached around to his lower back, he grunted as he ripped a small crude blade from his body.

"No," Legolas shook his head, unbelieving; inside he knew it must be true. "No!" he screamed that word and it echoed back to him. He got to his feet and turned around frantically. The trees spun around him. "This can't be." He stopped. "Arwen!" he shouted her name knowing that he wouldn't find an answer.

He started running, running from the truth he couldn't absorb. He pushed through the dense forest, searching desperately for a way back to her. In his mind's eye he could see her, see her crying above him and holding his lifeless body. He could feel her arms holding onto him and her face pressed against his chest.

The ground beneath his feet began to turn to mud and before long he was standing in the middle of the pond. The trees grew right from the water around the pond's edges. Sunlight streamed mercilessly down onto the glasslike appearance of previously undisturbed water. In the center of the water he saw her face, flames cast shadows on her face and before her was his body.

..::..

Gandalf's head bowed and he sighed. "All must say farewell eventually, and now the time has come to say goodbye to a friend, a brother, and husband." His hand rested on Arwen's back, gently nudging her towards the pyre.

"We should be burying him," Eowyn said as Arwen took her first step towards Legolas. "This is not our way, not even the Elves burn their dead." Tears fell freely down her face. "We should have a place to remember him by."

"Eowyn," Aragorn whispered to her.

"This is not his home," Arwen said solemnly. "I will not bury him here, so far away from me." She was now only mere inches from him, from the man she loved. She leaned down, her lips lightly touching his cold ones. "Le melin. Posto vae na lû e-govaned vîn." (I love you. Rest well until we meet again) She took a step back and tossed the torch onto the pyre. She watched the fire lick his body until all she saw were the flames. She felt cold even though she stood only a few feet away from the fire. She felt the tears well up in her eyes but she couldn't see them forming. She saw nothing but the fire and felt nothing but the cold.

..::..

Fire danced across the reflective surface of the water. He watched the torch fly from her hand to his body and he screamed. He screamed as if he could feel the flames scorching his flesh. Reality seemed to dawn on him then. The cold harsh reality that he was dead. He saw Arwen's face on the water, saw the tears drip down her cheeks as she stood like a pillar alone. The bright sun disappeared behind a mass of dark grey clouds. Rain started to fall, the drops of water at first landing on the water. With every raindrop the pond rippled and the image of Arwen faded. The rain landed on his face and slid down into his mouth. They were salty, like fresh tears and he knew, they were the tears of his wife. He closed his eyes and fell to his knees in the water. All he had left of her was his memories and her tears. This is not how death was supposed to be.