Gone...
He was gone now. The necklace he held was a sign at that, the last thing he had left after him. But for some reason, it was impossible to cry. Had he ever cried anyway? No...he was an Elf, and Elves rarely cried. But he wanted to; he wanted to cry so badly that it hurt. But it was impossible. Even now, when Aragorn was...dead. Gone. Forever.
He took a breath and looked down into the water that ran so fast. There was no body to be seen, or blood. And no matter how hard he tried to convince himself, he knew that the Orc that now was dead with Aragorn's knife buried in his body had spoken truth. Aragorn had fallen into the water. Aragorn was dead.
And what troubled Legolas the most was the things he had not spoken, in all his life. The small things he wanted to whisper, but never had. It tore at him...
It made him wish he had tears to cry...
Mirkwood. It had started there, on a bright day. He remembered that day clearly, for no one could take away the magic of the day, not even the growing treat. He had been riding his stallion, Morion, when he laid his eyes upon a strange man. He was dressed in dark clothes, that showed the use of time yet Elven qualities. He rode with two of the guards, so he was a friend. Legolas had been curious, and gone to them, thinking he could outsmart the man by speaking Elvish. 'And who is this man?' he had asked as he held his chin high.
But instead of having one of his kin answering, it was the Man who spoke. 'I am Estel of Imladris, also know as Aragorn the Dunadain, and Strider amongst the people of Bree'
Legolas jumped off his horse and then offered his hand. 'I apologise, Estel,' he said and offered a weak smile. 'Rarely are Men seen travel here, and yet alone someone who speaks our language. But foolish of me, for you are expected by my father'
Aragorn gave him a quiet smile and clasped his wrist, looking directly into the eyes of the man. 'Then you must be Legolas, also known as Greenleaf. Your skills of archery are well known amongst the Elves'
And that was the first moment Legolas wanted to kiss him. Of course, later, there were so many other moments. The dinner had been torturous for the Prince, for he had been forced to be close to Aragorn and be sharp in wits and replied. Much talk came and went, until Aragorn confessed the reason of his travel. He was waiting for Mithrandir, who had news, and he was also hunting a creature named Gollum. A strange creature, who apparently had once laid his hands on The One Ring, only to lose it 500 years later. This news shocked the Elves, but brought fire to Legolas. For more than anything, he desired a chance to prove himself in more fierce battle than fighting spiders and scouts.
Aragorn was said to stay for three days, which gave Legolas three days to find a way to either forget his desire for this man...or to seek him out and challenge him. Since Legolas was a warrior at heart, he sought the latter.
And that was his first mistake. He should have forgotten the man at that, like a dark desire in the back of his mind, instead of challenging himself to seek him. But yet he did not regret a thing. Legolas kept staring into the water, unaware of Gimli and the rest. He couldn't regret those nights he had spent in Aragorn's arms, even if love was never mentioned between them. Companionship, brothers is arms...things like that was often voiced by Aragorn. But never love. Caring, but never love. For Aragorn loved Arwen Undomiel. And Legolas Greenleaf was in the end just a lingering desire manifested in flesh and blood.
Too fondly did Legolas remember the passionate kisses and the scrape of beard against his own hairless cheek, the sparse hair that covered Aragorn's chest and the ragged breaths in his ear. He remembered the passion, the moans that came from the Man and not to mention the almost painful groan that escaped him at the climax. It was sounds that rang still in his ears. But the view had been the most amazing thing. The slightly painful, yet blissful look on Aragorn's face as he closed his eyes and tipped his head back at the throws of passion, the way his hands had almost bruised Legolas' arms and the forever mantra of his name.
Legolas. Legolas. Legolas. Legolas...
He had loved that, being the reason for the future King's pleasure and abandonment. But no more...no more would he hear his name like that, and no more would he lay his eyes on such a view. Legolas' fingers tightened around the pendant, his eyes staring into the water. Im mela le...Im mela le...he wanted to say it to him.
A hand made him turn his head, and he met Thčoden's eyes. A gentle squeeze and so the words, "Leave the dead"
Leave Aragorn to float in the waters, alone and dead, untended. It made him wish to cry out, to scream his agony into the face of the King. But instead he found himself nodding and looking back down. This would be his final farewells to his lover, he thought with confusion. He had known this day would come ever since he had returned to Aragorn's bed. He had known that sooner or later, the future King of Gondor would die from him. But never this soon...never. And never when he was so close, so alive in battle.
I wish I had tears to cry...
But he hadn't. For he had not cried in centuries. So he had no tears to weep, nor any words of sorrow to sing. For Boromir they had sang, but no lament was sad enough to tell the pains that Legolas felt now.
"We must go now"
Not now...too soon...let me say farewell. It's too soon, curse it. I cannot give him up just yet.
But nevertheless, Legolas turned away and walked with his head high past Gimli and to Arod, and he mounted the horse with a slight look of confusion in the blue eyes. He didn't really notice the Dwarf, nor the others as he followed the men.
It wasn't until after he reached Helm's Deep that he felt the stinging pain. He stood at the wall, watching the darkness for the others were busy prepearing for battle-. But as he stood there and watched the view outside, he again felt it. "Ara.." he stopped himself as he was about to turn to his side. The man was dead, and stood no longer beside him smiling gently. 'Im mela le,' he whispered and closed his eyes. 'Im mela le, Aragorn Arathornion...' and as he spoke those words, he felt a strange feeling in his eyes and wetness on his cheek. He looked up, to see where the drops had came from.
And he realised at that point that the drops of water were tears. His own tears.
And he cried them for his lover.
Who was gone...
Forever...
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Im mela le by Anne Avalon
Story notes: The Two Towers was a film that no doubt was a heaven for people interested in Legolas/Aragorn slash. With unspoken touches, many moments and heated arguments, it was a film to remember. But what stuck to me was the look on Legolas face when he found out that Aragorn was missing...he even talked to an Orc to find out what happened. And here is my fic, all done...enjoy, hopefully, and feedback is most welcomed.
