One Shots » LotR

Namárië, Estel

The seagulls cries mixed with the weeping of the crowd.

Outside the bedroom window, the people of Gondor lit candles, placing them carefully in lines across the courtyard. 

Then they kneeled together, bowing their heads.

 Waiting. Praying. Mourning.

"Legolas."

The rasped name drew my attention from the window. Against my own will, I turned, looking upon the man in the bed.

There was grey in his beard, like the color of his ever wearied eyes. 

Estel, the name rose unbidden to my mind. Memories of the days before-- of the laughter and jesting. Tavern fights in the small towns, chuckling around a crackling fire.

I didn't feel my feet move, padding across the room. Yet move I did, death looming heavy in the air.

There were others around the bedside. Three figures, heads bowed.

Gimli, with tears tracing lines down his aging face. Arwen, her face turned from my own. And Eldarion, sorrow in his silver eyes. 

They moved out of the way and somehow, I was on my knees. Something in my chest twisted, deep down inside. A pain I had never quite felt before.

Like my heart itself was missing.

Gently, I took Aragorn's hand in my own. There was something frail about his cold touch-- as if any moment, the life in his grip would fade.

"Legolas..." Cracked lips moved, but the words were barely a whisper.

I shook my head, trying to force a smile; a look of hope, of reassurance. Anything other than the feeling of emptiness claiming my chest.

Our eyes met and despite the silence, I heard his every word. 

Of when he had first told me about his true heritage, unaware that I already knew. When he had hopelessly expressed his love for Arwen, taking his anguish out on a training dummy. 

When we had stood before the Black Gates and despite it all, there was defiance flaming in his steel eyes.

"You look terrible," I chuckled softly, clutching at his hand tighter.

 He laughed back, yet it was forced. Pained.

"Yet you look exactly the same," Aragorn's tired voice wavered. "But you always knew this day would come, did you not, mellon-nin?"

I lowered my head, unable to meet the man's eyes.

"Mortals," my father had once said. "They do not live forever. No friendship can be found in men, ion-nin. For they will all leave one day."

"Do not weep for me," Aragorn whispered. "Carry on, Legolas. Return to Fanghorn, return to Mirkwood. Finish your life."

There it was again-- the feeling so much deeper than pain and so much more painful than sorrow.

It was agony. 

Pure and raw agony, deep in my chest.

I had watched many elves fall on the battlefield. I had held their hands as their souls swept from the lands of Middle Earth, across the sea.

But mortal death was different. It was too precious, too fragile.

"I do not fear death," Aragorn's words brought me from my thoughts. Something ignited in his eyes-- the same fire I knew so well. 

"This is not the end," I shook my head. "Look for the white ships, Estel."

He grinned weakly, shaking his head. "I am no elf, Legolas. The golden shores of the Undying Lands are not my destination."

They are not.

Something separated my body from my heart and I was floating. But I gripped his hand tighter, trying to swallow past the twisting of my heart. "Goheno nin, Estel."

His eyes were fluttering. I could feel it in his hands-- the strength of his hold was weakening.

"No friendship can be found in men, ion-nin."

The others came closer. I could feel their sorrow, hear their tears. 

In that moment, I knew why my father hid in his halls. For the pain of those leaving was worse than any foe on the battleground. Was more painful than any wound or injury.

Aragorn's hand slipped from my clutch and his rising breaths slowed. Despite it all, a peace descended over the man.

The world seemed to stop.

I pushed myself up, backing away from the bed. Tears that I had never shed, rose into my eyes.

Then Arwen threw her head back and wailed, a shrill cry of pure agony and heart wrenching pain that shattered the air. 

Outside, seagulls cried louder, their haunting calls echoing throughout the crowded courtyard. 

"I do not fear death, Legolas." 

Lowering my head, I let the tears fall, sliding down my cheeks and splattering silently to the floor. "Namárië, Estel."

For hope had faded that day.

"May you tread forever among the white stars, my friend."  

My first attempt at a one-shot, what did you guys think? Things like this help me in writer's block, so I shall likely keep updating.

Your thoughts and comments are most welcome, or if you have any requests, feel free to shout them out! Thank you, mellyns.