Thorns & Roses (Legolas Love Story)

35. Aftermath

[Author's Note: If you see this, it means I have put link to music that helps me into mood as I write this chapter or one of the scenes in it. Feel free to listen to them as you read on. Let me know what you think! Happy Reading]

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Sacrifice demands the surrender of things we cherish above all else. Only out of the agony of those loses can a new resolution be born. An undying devotion to a cause greater than one’s self, and a moral duty to see a journey through to its absolute completion.

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[THIRD PERSON POV]

Silence lord over the entire marbled courtyard of Minas Tirith. It was as if an invisible hand had taken away their voice, leaving nothing but the sound of howling wind to fill the space between.

An image of a kneeling woman sat still as if she carved by the hands of god. What once was a picture of perfect beauty–golden, flowing hair, soft, flawless skin–now she was nothing but another statue made of stone–the kind that most people would think belong in a graveyard, for what she pictured was not strength anymore.

She was now a picture of grief.

One figure was brave enough to break the spell of silence. An elf prince. Even after fighting off his way through battle, there was no sign of physical weariness about him. He didn’t even break a sweat, and his appearance remained immaculate just as all elves should be.

He dropped his elven sword, letting them clanking carelessly on the ground. Even as he approached the image of the still woman, his stature was still straight, his movement fluid–but the fierceness in his brilliant blue eyes were gone. He dropped to his knees before the stone image, his eyes searching every carving the beautiful statue held.

The entire courtyard held its breath, watching as the crown prince of Mirkwood lifted his hand to touch the face of the statue, bewildered with the fact that there was no more softness or warmth on her skin like it used to be.

Realizing that he wasn’t having a nightmare but living it instead, the elf threw his head back and wailed. A shrill cry of pure agony and heart wrenching pain that shattered the air.

Right then the elf had forgotten completely who he was. He was no longer a warrior, nor a crown prince or a formidable foe in battle. He was now just Legolas.

And the love of his life had been taken from him.

The son of Arathorn, Aragorn, couldn’t believe his eyes either. He knelt a few feet behind Legolas, putting his sword down and bowed his head. His friend’s cry ripped his heart out of his chest, and for a moment a thought passed him:

Would he let Arwen Undomiel, that ellith that he professed to love to endure the same grief as he witnessed Legolas endure now when he too is taken from this world? Would he have the heart to eventually let it happen to her for his sake?

The master dwarf took off his helmet from his head and put it down on the ground, along with his axe. His beady eyes shone with grief. Normally he would never let anyone see a dwarf cry, but at that moment, he just didn’t care, even as his tear slipped down his ginger beard.

It was only yesterday he and his friends were laughing with her. He thought she was getting back to her normal self. But now the woman was met with an unspeakable fate. One that even he would never wish to even his greatest enemy.

The White Wizard stood before them. His eyes dark unlike the brightness of his robe or his white beard. Having watched that the pawn of evil, Ungol, sent to the dungeon, the wizard bowed his head.