I Will Remember You by Rutaari
Summary: The great king of the reunited kingdom has fallen, but when it comes to last words, who will they really belong to?
Categories: FPS > Legolas/Aragorn, FPS, FPS > Aragorn/Legolas Characters: Aragorn, Legolas
Type: None
Warning: Angst, Character Death
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 1 Completed: Yes Word count: 1167 Read: 1553 Published: July 31, 2011 Updated: July 31, 2011
Story Notes:
I wrote this fic in like, an hour. I got the idea from some song I heard that goes "I will remember you, will you remember me." and thats the only two lines I know. hehe. Just two, but still inspiring. Anyway, its pretty much Legolas' POV, mostly memories. I made Legolas a whole lot younger just so I could have him and Aragorn growing up together. Hope it doesn't bother you too much.

1. Chapter 1 by Rutaari

Chapter 1 by Rutaari
Legolas stared down at the lifeless body that lay before him. The age of time had worn away at the mighty ruler. His skin had grown withered and leathery, and his hair was streaked in grey. Somewhere beneath the fine cloth that covered him Legolas knew were finely chizzled muscles, hidden under aging flesh, and underneath the closed eyelids were blue orbs that the world would suffer for never being able to see them again. The man's arms were drawn up to his chest, where his hands still tightly clutched his sword, the sword which could be wielded by him, and him alone.

The blonde prince's head snapped up when he heard a small, shuddering sigh come from the other side of the body, and he looked to see the Lady Arwen standing there, veiled in black, though the cloth did not hide her tears of mourning. Legolas wished he could do something to ease her pain, for she was a dear friend, but at this moment he was feeling too much grief himself to be of use to anyone, much less the fallen king's beloved wife.

Legolas' eyes ran over the wrinkled skin, and he suddenly looked at his own hands. They were smooth and pale, if not slightly calloused from holding a bow, but nothing compared to the aging of the great king. He could remember over the years, as Aragorn had grown older and began to fade, Legolas still found him just as captivating as ever, and never any less enchanting.

The prince was suddenly drawn back in memory, to the time when he and Estel were mere boys, and how excited they would be to see eachother when they visited the other's realm. When they were very young, they would meet with a well thought-out insult, or blow of the other's pride, knowing that the other didn't really mean a word of it. As they grew to their teenage years it turned into a playful punch or slap on the back, and as they grew to men, it turned into warm embraces that meant so much more than just "hello."

For years the two men were engrossed in conversation whenever the other was around, or simply sitting in the silence together, knowing that nothing needed to be said. Then it happened, the Quest for the Ring. Arwen had come to Legolas in the wee hours of the morning before their departure. She had taken Legolas into her arms, and spoken so sincerely that Legolas at first was frightened that something was the matter. "Legolas, I know that you and Aragorn are dear friends. He shares things with you that he could never share with me. This quest will be trying for him, for both of you, but especially him. It will take everything he has to give, and more. I know that the road gets long and rough, and he will be weary. I wish for you to go to him, to comfort him when he needs it, in any way he needs it. Please promise me you will do this."

Legolas had stood in momentary silence, understanding what the Evenstar was asking of him, and he had simply nodded in response, and she was gone before he would say a word.

It had not been until the Fellowship had reached Lothlorien, the enchanted wood that Legolas had gone to Aragorn. It had been in the night that Legolas had heard him stand from his bed and walk to the nearby stream, so Legolas had followed him. When he found the man crying he simply took him into his arms and whispered words of comfort into his ear. It seemed an eternity he sat there rocking Aragorn, and while deep in thought, the man leaned foreword and pressed his lips to Legolas', kissing him deeply. This is what the Lady had meant. Legolas had thought. I will keep my promise. And as the kiss deepened, Legolas realized that keeping such a simple promise would make him happier than he had ever been. Aragorn was his soul mate, his life-long love.

They made love that night by the river Nimrodel, over and over again. Neither of them ever said the words, but they knew the other felt the same way. When morning came they returned to camp, acting as if nothing had ever occurred, but the rest of the Fellowship knew anyway. They all saw the connection that was between the elf and the man, and they saw the bond that connected them over the long journey, and the ethereal glow that they both emitted after they disappeared together in the night.

Over the entire quest, whenever Aragorn needed comfort or love, Legolas would go to him, or Aragorn would seek out his companion. When the quest was over, and the Fellowship remained in Minas Tirith, word came that the Lady Arwen was on her way to Gondor, to wed the king.

The night before the elves arrived Legolas went to Aragorn's chambers, and the king knew before a word was spoken what Legolas had come to ask. He could see it in Legolas' eyes, no matter how much the elf tried to hide it. "I must marry Arwen." He had said, and turned his back on Legolas.

None of the Fellowship had questioned why Legolas was not at the binding ceremony. He appeared just as the celebration began, and then disappeared quietly for more than a day. Though his heart was broken, he remained loyal to Aragorn, and visited him whenever he could, even trained his children in the fine art of archery. They loved their Uncle Legolas.

It was when Legolas got word that Elessar Telcontar was sick, was dying, that the prince had rushed to Gondor, coming to Aragorn's side to give comfort, as he had for all those many years. The king could hardly speak, and was too weak to even lift his head. Arwen sat by his side, her hand in his, crying softly. Legolas watched from behind, too grieved to say anything. The kind had suddenly taken a last gasping breath, and three words had spilled from his mouth. "I love you." And though his hand was engulfed in the Lady Arwen's, his still-sparkling blue eyes stared right at the golden prince.

Legolas' thoughts were interrupted as two guards came to cover the king's tomb. The Lady fled, unable to witness her husband's burial. Legolas raised his hand, a signal for the guards to wait, and they backed away, giving Legolas a few more moments with his dear friend.

The elf stepped closer to the fallen king, and slowly removed his bow, the bow of the Galadriel, and lay it gently in the tomb beside the king, a symbol of his unyielding loyalty and love.

"For all that we have been through, you remained my constant companion, my faithful friend, and my dearest love. I will remember you."

And Legolas turned on his heel, and walked silently away.
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