The Last Othellan

An Unexpected Outcome

At first, the voices around me were indistinct. I was dead, certainly. Was this what came after? Was I in the Halls of Mandos, where all elves dwelt when they were slain? Did those voices belong to other departed souls?

I decided that it hardly mattered, and soon I was blissfully unaware again.

When I next became – was it conscious? I didn't think so. But, the voices had gone. I was vaguely aware that I was not alone. However, too tired and comfortable to move, I simply lay there, listening to my breathing and feeling my heart beating in my chest.

Hold on.

My heart?

Surely, dead people did not have anything as substantial as a heart. I should have cast aside my broken body, becoming a spirit – a thing left only with the memories I had collected in life. Gradually, my mind sharpened just a little. If I had a heart, then I must have a body. But if I had a body, I must be alive.

That was wrong.

I remembered it, slowly. I had died. I had been with Legolas, and I had not felt scared. Someone had stabbed me. Not just someone – Saerwen. She had ripped my stomach apart. I couldn't have survived that.

Could I?

Saerwen was dead too. I remembered that. I killed her. Definitely. But if I wasn't dead, could that mean that she wasn't dead either? Both of us had been injured beyond repair.

In using my hearing, I discovered that I had ears.

The door opened softly and closed with a snap, and a somehow familiar pair of footsteps walked across the room. I heard someone who was sitting next to me, wherever I was, shift their position.

"Has she moved at all?" Aragorn asked. I was confused – Aragorn had definitely been alive when I had died, I knew that. Plus, elves and men didn't go to the same place when they died.

"I thought I saw her frown, when you and the healers came in this morning and said she was out of danger, but since then she has been still", said another familiar voice.

Legolas.

I felt my fingers twitch compulsively at the sound of his voice. Did this mean I really was alive? I had been so convinced it was impossible to survive, but elves could endure injuries that would kill men. Perhaps I was still in Middle Earth after all.

I felt the two people beside me draw in a breath. "Did you see that?" Legolas asked quickly.

"I saw it" Aragorn confirmed. There was a smile in his voice. "What did I tell you, mellon? She's going to be fine". (Friend).

Legolas took my hand in his and squeezed it gently. The feeling was more wonderful than ever it had been, since I had never expected to feel it again. I wanted to open my eyes, to see my best friend and the person I loved, but I was still so tired.

"I can hardly believe it", Legolas said softly. "The last few days she has been so sick, I really didn't think she would make it".

"Neither did I", admitted Aragorn "If I had stitched her wound any later than I did, she would have lost too much blood, and we could not have saved her."

Legolas ran his fingers through my hair, then took my hand in his again. "Let us not think about what might have happened." he muttered quietly, "All that matters is that she is going to be alright".

I discovered, as I regained my senses a little more, that I was lying on a soft surface, a pillow underneath my head and a blanket covering my body. I could feel a sharp ache across my stomach, which I supposed was the stab wound. There was a bandage wrapped around it, which was not sticky with blood, as I thought it should be. The linen was clean and soft against my skin.