Title: Né fredä l (Unafraid)

By: Chloe the elvish, angst-loving, enthusiast, also being the 3rd of the "Write Sisters" ;)

Feedback: Abso-bally-lutly! My e-mail is: [email protected] and, of course, ff.net feedback is MORE than welcome! :D

Rated: PG-13 (for MAJOR angst, violence, and MORE major angst*) This is NOT A SLASH FIC! Nooo no no no! If you're here to read slash, read SOMETHING ELSE! I can't stand slash.

*please re-note the 'angst-loving' part of my full-name. ;)

Summery: Estel is gone. Left with a confused mind and aching heart, Legolas continues to stumble through his life. But as he lives to miss his dearest friend, the shadow of danger grows darker as Bengwiil eases its way back into Mirkwood. Will Legolas let go in time to save his people? And what of Aragorn? Will he *never* be back? (sequel to Erfiér)

Spoilers: Only for the other two stories in the "Bengwiil Saga", Istón, I know, and Erfiér, Only Mortal. Other than that, no, don't think so. :)

Disclaimers: Aragorn, Legolas, Thranduil, Mirkwood, Rivendell and any other recognizable people or places are the sole property of JRR Tolkein, and I do NOT have permission to use them. I'm not making any money, of course, because a. nobody's dumb enough to pay me to write and b. nobody ELSE is dumb enough to pay me to write. At any rate, please don't sue me. ;)

NOTE: You will NOT get this story a BIT unless you've read the other two stories in this series:

Istón, I know

Erfiér, Only Mortal

If that doesn't bug you, then it's no problem. Just thought you should no, in case you start reading this and immediately think: WHAT is a Bengwiil…? ;)

Marks: // marks are elvish translations. Example:

Nefredal

//Unafraid//

* marks are italics

Dedication: To Sarah, Hannah. Cassia, Siobhan, and ALL my faithful readers who have hung around while I was tardy over finishing this. Thank you ALL for your patience! I hope it's worth it. :)

Né fredä l

(Unafraid)

My dearest friend, please say it isn't so

You think denying it's no good

I know

But if for a day, an hour, I can pretend

That he's not gone, that our times will

not end

I do not ask for lies, my friend, and yet

If I cannot run tomorrow, tonight I may

forget

Shortly I will miss him, see the holes he left behind

For this evening, just to close my eyes, and rest my

tired mind

It will help and though inside I still will know...

Just for now, if you could say it

isn't so.

~"Say It Isn't So" , Sarah K.~

Chapter 1

Without Hope

The clouds hung heavily over the Mirkwood trees, for they had been threatening the great forest with rain for almost four days. The trees were uncharacteristically green in the dim light, and they swayed slightly in the humid breeze.

It is well that the trees were so lovely, for many stared at them this day. With nothing but pain to see and feel in the Halls of Thranduil, many of the Woodelves spent their day outside, in the heavy air of Mirkwood.

None could stand the atmosphere of the Halls anymore. Their king, Thranduil, had not left his room for the two days since the night. The fearful night that none discussed in the open, for fear of reliving the nightmare they had experienced that evening.

All of the elves on the lower floors could remember it all-too-vividly. It was deep into the night, and many had gone to pace the stone balconies, or retire to wander in dreams. None had expected what happened next…

A door on the second floor flew open with a *SLAM*. Several elves came from various places in the Halls, eventually congregating in the Great Hall. What had the sound been? All had heard it, and knew that loud crashes were not common or welcome in the Halls of Thranduil.

At that moment, the group heard the echo of footsteps thundering down the stone stairs. They seemed to fly over every other step, until they hit the floor beneath. They made their swift way across the huge room adjoining the Great Hall, and finally reached the hall itself. It was then that the elves saw the footstep's source.

Legolas Greenleaf, prince of Mirkwood, stood in the doorway. His face was as pale as the stone floor he stood shakily on. His cheeks shone with bitter tears that had been shed, and his wide eyes sparkled with ones that had not. Yet.

"Your highness," someone in the crowd of elves whispered.

Legolas shook his head, and began to run through the crowded hall. The elves parted so he could get through, and watched in bewilderment as their prince ran to the back door of the Great Hall.

"Legolas!" Out of nowhere it seemed, Edren stepped out in front of the prince, and halted him. "What is it, my friend. What is it?"

Legolas raised his tear-filled gaze to his friend's face, but did not part his lips to speak. He only stared a long moment, the pain in his eyes the only clue as to what had happened. Again, he shook his head, and then pushed Edren away, and kept going.

The light scuff of his running feet faded, and his flowing blonde hair disappeared around the corner of the doorway.

Silence ensued, and all looked around in confusion at each other. Then, a heartrending cry came from the outside, and everyone flinched.

"Aragorn! Aragoooorn!"

The desperate cry echoed among the Great Hall's walls. Edren squeezed his eyes shut against the sound, and shook his head against the pain. He couldn't bare to hear this…especially now that he better understood the prince's tears.

A long hour passed, in which only the most wounded by the cries stayed in the Great Hall, trying to figure out in their minds only what could possibly grieve their prince so. But somewhere, they were afraid they knew. And this led them to another unpleasant conclusion, accompanied by a deep feeling of desperation that echoed off the walls around them. Legolas was pleading with Ilúvatar.

Finally, the prince came slowly into the doorway of the Great Hall again. Everyone looked up.

His face was deadly pale, his eyes were red with tears, his limbs shook all over, and his body was still wracked by sobs.

Edren slowly approached his friend again. "Legolas. Please, please tell me what is wrong. Can I help?"

Legolas stared at his friend blankly, and then looked down at his feet, tears coming to his eyes afresh. "Aragorn," he choked "He is gone…dead."

Edren shook his head slowly. "Oh, Legolas. I- I am *so* sorry, my dear friend…What can I do?"

Legolas nodded shakily, and looked up at the elf before him once more. "Hold onto hope, Edren. For that is what Aragorn asked me to do…but I cannot." Legolas walked past his friend slowly, calling in a tear-choked voice, "Hold onto hope for me, my friend. Keep estel alive." And he disappeared in the dark corridor beyond the Great Hall.

And for the rest of that night, the only sound was a sorrow-filled melody drifting down from the second floor's closed door. And many did not rest that night.

Since that night, none had gone to the second floor except by necessity. At first, the only sound from the dark room was Legolas' soft voice singing the 'Old Walking Song' which carried an extra memory from his perspective, but was only a little mournful, for such a song is too innocent to carry much weight.

But now, the soft elvish song that came from that shut door for hour after hour was just too much for any elf to listen to. It may be hard to understand for one who has never heard elfsong, but even a simple melody carries a certain beauty that expresses more than any of the words in it can. The music that Legolas sang for hours from that dark room was just such a melody, and carried all the memories of his dearest friend. Along with the sorrow of these memories being reduced to memories alone.

But no matter how the elves tried to avoided it, the music echoed about the stone halls, and many wished they did not have such keen hearing. It seemed to be a constant reminder that everything had become even darker in the lands of Mirkwood.

**********

"You can try, Edren, but I do not think it will do any good."

"Well I *must* try, Daurré. He cannot be doing well with nothing to eat, and besides. He needs me."

"Istón, Edren. You are right."

Edren smiled slightly, and gave his friend's shoulder a squeeze. Turning from him, he began towards the staircase leading to the second floor. A tray of food was balanced on one hand, and he carried a mug of tea in the other.

For the past two days, he'd been trying to bring Legolas' some food and drink. The prince hadn't left that dark room, and Edren knew that even though he *was* an elf, no one could live without at least *some* food. Besides, Legolas hadn't eaten the last day of Aragorn's life either. He'd neither food nor drink for three days, and so Edren did his best to give him both.

He quietly made his way to the bedroom door, wincing slightly when his ears picked up the high, elven song beginning again.

"Wen uuye giri na gwaew

//friendship does not waver at a wind//

Na wen mav-am ui-brono

//and a friendship like ours lasts forever//

Brono mav-altelu liikuma

//forever like an everlasting candle//

Pant-estel galad thinth-al"

//a hopeful light fading never//

Edren leaned towards the doorway, and setting the tea mug onto the tray for a moment, knocked softly on the wooden door. The song continued as though nothing had happened to interrupt it. Edren knocked a little louder, but still the song went on. Legolas should have heard him…he was ignoring him instead. He sighed. "Legolas, please, let me in."

The song stopped a moment. Then, "The door is not locked, Edren."

Edren didn't know whether to feel relieved or anxious as he pushed the door open, and stepped in. He hated what he saw. Legolas knelt beside Aragorn's bed, holding both the man's limp hands, and lying his head on the human's still chest. When he looked up, there were faint rings under his eyes, half from lack of rest, and half from constant tears. His face was almost as pale as his still friend's, and his normally bright eyes were dull with confusion and exhaustion.

He soon looked away from Edren, and began to sing again. The elf had never realized how sad the song was before now. Standing next to the singer himself, beside the cause of this desolate melody; Edren felt drained of all cheer, as Legolas made a valiant attempt to strengthen his voice.

"Tama liikuma naur, mellon

//Keep the candle burning, friend//

Tama nar-estel naur

//Keep the flame of hope burning//

Garonach im, mellon nin

//I'm holding onto you, my friend//

Kuin im, kuiv, na naeg im

//I'm alive, awake, and I'm hurting//

Wen uuye-"

//friendship does not-//

"No," Edren cut him off before the prince could make it through the first line again. "No, Legolas. Please stop."

Legolas shrugged slightly, cocking his head to the side as a sign of indifference. He then turned his eyes back on Aragorn, and sat in silence. Edren had to speak.

"I brought you some bread, a bit of meat, and cup of tea." No response. "My dear friend, you haven't eaten or slept for three days. Come. Have a little? I believe it will make you feel better." Edren studied his silent friend a long moment. He'd grown up with Legolas, and fortunately knew him well enough to find something to entice the sullen prince. "At least the lembas bread I brought?"

Legolas looked up as if in slow motion, and nodded. Edren fought not to smile in relief. Legolas had enjoyed lembas even more than water growing up, and it had been a rare treat for the Woodelves to receive that way-bread of Ló rien. Edren knew this all too well, and was more than excited when he found they had little stock of the food left. Perhaps it was the only thing that could regain Legolas' strength for him.

As the prince took the square loaf of way-bread from his friend, he almost smiled himself.

"You look so tired." Edren sighed, sitting down in a chair near Legolas.

"It is how I feel." Legolas responded faintly.

"You should rest then. Lie down, free your mind."

"I have slept some."

"Indeed?"

"Yes. But neither did it rest me, nor free my mind. I only drift away into my memories, and wander in my dreams."

Edren cocked his head to the side. "Well- at the least, you should leave this room."

"Hm," Legolas sighed, shaking his head. "I shall not leave Aragorn. I promised I would not."

Edren licked his lips nervously, as he searched for tact. "Legolas. Aragorn…he is-"

"Dead." Legolas looked up at Edren blankly. "You think I do not know this?"

"Yes, I- well no, I know that you know this." Edren shook his head miserably, and closed his eyes with a tired sigh.

Legolas stared at nothing for awhile, and seemed to drift away to a distant thought. "I see him, you know." Edren's head came up slowly. "I see him. I hear him in my dreams. I- I awake in the night, thinking- hoping that he will be before my eyes." Legolas shook his head and closed his eyes. As he did so, a tear coursed down his smooth cheek, covering the tracks of old tears. "But I know better. I know he is gone. But it's just too much to accept."

"It's hard, I know it is." Edren sighed, sliding off his chair to sit beside Legolas on the floor. "But take courage. Aragorn's last words to you were 'do not despair'. You must heed him, Legolas, for that is what he wanted for you. He wanted you to live on in joy, despite loss."

Legolas shook his head expressionlessly; as though he'd thought these thoughts so many times, he had them memorized. "His last words to me were 'don't forget me'. And I don't intend to."

"But you can remember in peace, Legolas. You needn't, and shouldn't remember him like this."

Legolas didn't respond for awhile. He shook his head over and over, making no sound. Finally he spoke, his throat chocked with tears. "Oh Edren…Edren, I miss him so. Will he *never* be back?"

He lifted a tired face to look Edren in the eye. His whole self explained more than any words could. It was pain, it was confusion, and a desperation to except the unacceptable. It took Edren a moment to realize it, but finally, his mind settled on the right word: His friend looked lost.

Edren's could only think to respond in one way; in action. He quickly moved forward, gripped his friend around the shoulders, and pulled the prince to him. Legolas relaxed in the embrace, and felt the familiar tickle of tears rolling down his cheeks.

"I would deny his death, if I thought it would do you any good." Edren whispered kindly.

Legolas nodded against his friend's chest. "I have often wondered if that would relieve the pain. But I would have to come back to reality, and I know the blow of truth would finish me. For as it is, I am fading."

Edren pulled Legolas back from him so he could look him in the eye. "Legolas, you mustn't say such things."

"I have naught to live for anymore, Edren. I am fading with my broken heart, and I know I shan't live out the many days I was meant."

"Legolas, please. I don't think-"

"Edren, no. Not now. I wish not to speak of it now."

Edren slowly nodded, and pulled his friend closer to him.

"Lir anem?" Legolas asked weakly, as though he were a child, begging to be asleep after a nightmare.

//sing for me?//

Edren smiled sympathetically. Quietly, he began to sing in comfort, glad to hear any tune other than the one Legolas had sung continually.

"Tulum an ilman

//Take me to the stars//

Nyarim lindeler

//Tell me of their song//

Enyaarem hanya lir

//That I may learn to sing//

Laitar narquelion"

//Their praise to fading sun//

On and on Edren sang, and slowly, Legolas' shoulders began to shake with tears. The prince's friend continued his melody, gently massaging Legolas' trembling shoulders. Edren would likely never know why the song he chose to sing that night was so perfect, yet so heartbreaking for Legolas to hear. And as the prince listened, he could almost hear Aragorn's voice rather than Edren's singing the song from that night. That night so long ago, when Aragorn had sung Legolas into a peaceful sleep.

"Meralam ilqua harma

//I want not all these treasures//

Maralam uuva haran

//I want not to be king//

Eram mere kana ilman

//I only want to see the stars//

Eram mere lir!"

//I only want to sing!//