Ok, so I had no intention of continuing this at all, but I got into yet
another shitty mood and it kinda came out. This idea has been driving me
insane for ages now, and even though I said that I would not be updating
till after another 3 weeks (exams and all) I couldn't think straight with
this in my head, so I had no other choice but to write it. I started it at
about 11 at night and I have to say, it is hard to type when your hands are
freezing! Lol…I am sitting here with two pairs of pants, 3 long sleeve
shirts, a leather jacket and a dressing gown (it looks really fashionable!
Lol) and I am still cold! But as I said, I had to get it done.
While this is not a song fic, I included the words of Hoobastank's "Losing my Grip" as it was that and Adema's "Everyone" that I was listening to at the time. Hoobastank's song kinda affected the outcome of this story so it is just there as a bit of a reference.
Umm, further notes down the bottom so not to ruin anything.
This chapter is dedicated to Blue Dragoness for your lovely complements and Lady V for your constant reviewing. Oh, and to YunaDax if you are reading this, hurry up and update your story!!!!!! And I e-mailed you about 4 times but they keep coming back saying that your account isn't working.
*****
Returning.
*****
Another night follows the day
Like a child does to its mother
And everywhere I look I see your face
On the face of others
And I can't escape the pain
*****
Darkness. That was all the lone figure could see. No light shone of the once golden woods, at least not in his heart. It was empty, unfulfilled and darkened with the constant suffering that was always there.
He had not stepped foot in these woods for many a year now, always fearing what he may find if he did so. It was only by chance that he came to be here now, yet another cruel twist of fate, designed to make him suffer more.
He had been travelling to Rivendell when a fierce storm blew in from the west, from the sea he now hated for no particular reason. Even now, in these current years, he remained a man of the land, of the wild, capable of anything. Yet this storm had been different, it had bothered even him and he soon found that he had to seek shelter in the place that he had long vowed never to return to.
If it had been a few yeas earlier, then this weather change would have brought a fear to his heart, a fear of dark tidings with ill outcomes. Yet times were different now and a simple storm, no matter how violent had no effect on him other to make him cold and uncomfortable.
He may have been where he did not want to be, but for some strange reason he didn't feel distressed about it. After all, he could still avoid the main place that had haunted every one of his dreams for years.
Every night he saw the same dream played out in his head, the same emotions rushed from him, and every morning he awoke to find the moist trails of tears on his face and small damp patched staining his pillow.
He hated it. Hated the feelings that he hid every day, only to have them come twice as strong at night and most of all the fact that at night, while the moon hung high over the land that no longer held any peace for him, he could not hide. No matter what he did, or where he went they always hunted him down and when the emotions hit, they stole his breath away.
It would start with a lump in his throat, just a small one that could be ignored for the time being, but it always got worse. As the moon made its way over the arched sky and the stars came out from their hiding places the lump would grow bigger. Then came the sick feeling in his gut, the thing telling him of what was to soon come to him, of the memories that would hit him like a tidal wave and knock him over. His face would grow hot and he could tell that he was turning red. The thought of not being about to stop what happened to him made it worse, and then, soon enough the first tear would fall.
It would twinkle like the stars themselves as it slipped out of the corner of his eye and traced down his cheek. But it never fell, as every time he angrily wiped it away, begging himself to stop it and get it together. But it never worked and soon he shed as many crystal clear tears as there were stars in the midnight sky.
Tonight was no different, bar the fact that there were no stars visible through the heavy cloud cover that streaked across the sky. His tears were no sooner shed before they were blown off his face to mix with the large droplets of rain that assaulted his body through his thick travelling cloak.
The solitary man made his way through the woods carefully, trying not to disturb anything more then necessary. In the gloom he had lost his way, and this part of the woods was alien to him, even with all his knowledge. He resented himself for allowing himself to get lost, especially in these woods. It was very unlike him to loose his way in the slightest. He was one of those people that could wake up and straight away tell you exactly where he was and who he was with, where they had come from and in what direction they were going. It was a talent, the gift of direction, of purpose. But his life had lost purpose a long time ago now and he feared that it might never return. That he would be doomed to live his life to the end of his days constantly wondering what could have been and what he should be doing.
Slowly, the rain began to stop, and with much relief he saw that he was coming to a nice little clearing. Hopes of finding somewhere to rest his weary body and troubled mind, he threw caution to the wind and sped up his pace.
In his eagerness to reaching the clearing he failed to notice the large tree to the left of him, one of the ones that created the circle of the border.
As his footsteps softly padded their way into the small grassy area the rain halted completely and the iciness of the air dropped. Exhausted, he dropped his pack to the wet ground, glad to be rid of it's weight. It mattered not that the ground was wet, as he and his belongings were soaked through as it was so, with a quick look around him he prepared to sit down.
But something caught his eye. Something that stood there, twisted into a blackened hellish thing of nightmares.
With a gasp, the man jumped back while looking at the tree with accusing eyes. It stood there, its leaves swaying in the wind that still howled through the woods and mocked him. Taunting him with its peaceful yet horrifying movements.
The man squinted his eyes at it, praying that it was not what he saw every night, that it was not the menacing shape that grew larger and larger in his mind with each passing day. But it was. It was what he feared most in this world, what he hated so strongly that it felt like a fire burning inside of him.
A quick and futile look around the clearing confirmed his suspicions beyond all reasonable doubt, and with a sinking heart he clasped the hilt of his sword.
With the cold steel in his hands he felt powerful, unbeatable and in control. That was until the dipping and swaying of the tree's branches started to plague his vision and mind.
That swaying…that moving…that life.
A yell of anger escaped his lips and he ran at the tree, sword held high above his head. For this one moment, the split second it took his to cross the clearing to the tree it was just him. Everything left his mind, everything melted away from his memory and sight. All he could see was this one tree and the only thing he felt was the pain that it had caused him.
He swung his arms back and let the blow follow through with all the strength he could muster. Bits of bark flew off to hit his face and arms as he struck the thick trunk time and time again. With each and every hit, each time the sword bit into the flesh of the tree he felt better, and for the first time in over five years he felt as if he could go on. As if through the sap that seeped from the wounded tree it granted him life and above all hope.
He knew not how long he stood there, battling with the defenseless tree, but all too soon for his liking his arms grew weary and it became harder and harder to lift his sword. His face was covered in a mixture of tears, sap and fragments of bark while his hair held most of the same substances.
Slowly while breathing hard he sunk to his knees on the ground, his head spinning with mixed emotions and his body feeling frail and weak.
He looked at his hands, still gripping the sword so tightly that his knuckles had turned white from the lack of blood pumping through them. Sap covered them thickly, as well as something else, something red.
Blood.
Quickly he cast the sword away as if it were a poisonous arrow. His hands were lacerated with cuts and bits of splintered wood stuck out of his palms and fingers. Even now as he looked he felt no pain from the wounds only pain in his heart.
Sliding to his side, he hugged himself, willing everything to go away and to leave him alone. But it did no good, and no matter how much he tried, the world still turned, and his heart still beat.
"Aragorn?" he heard a soft voice call his name. Slightly puzzled, he lifted his head, wondering who could have possible found him and what they wanted.
At first he could see nothing as tears clouded his eyes, much like sleep did to those of an Elf. But slowly they cleared, and he was able to focus on the tall being standing just above him.
"Aragorn," it was more of a statement than anything, the voice was filled with pain and grief and the figure quickly knelt down to look at the human still lying on the ground.
Aragorn looked at the form in front of him and as it lent forward a familiar smell filled his nostrils. The faint smell of newly blooming honey-suckles. Something about the way this stranger held himself pulled at Aragorn's heart and as he gently yet sadly spoke his name again, Aragorn bit his lip in hope and wonder.
"Legolas?" he whispered softly while peering into the face that was glowing slightly with the usual Elven glow. Hope sailed in his heart, and yet, there was a pause from the stranger's part, making the man fear the Elf's reply.
Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, the being before him spoke softly while reaching out a hand and tracing the man's cheek. "It is I, Aragorn. It is I."
Aragorn's breath caught in his throat. Questions of how and why ran through his head, but he pushed them down. All he wanted to think of was that his dearest friend had returned. He went to open his mouth to express his joy and confusion, but the Elf beat him to it.
"Oh Aragorn, what has happened to you, my friend?" Legolas asked gently and softly, while still keeping contact with the man's face.
The words, while sounding so innocent held a deeper meaning to them, and only in his eyes could this be strongly reflected. Legolas still held the look of one of someone young and naive, but his eyes, his eyes told his soul and his wisdom.
Aragorn knew that the Elf was taking of more than just his bleed hands or his current state, but somehow the words caught in his throat and could not be forced over his tongue. He merely reached up and grasped Legolas's hand with his own, holding it as if it were his only possession.
"How are you here?" he finally asked after a long minutes silence. "How did you come back?"
Again he saw the sadness in Legolas's eyes even though the Elf's impassive mask hid all other emotion from his face. It was at that point that Aragorn understood, he understood everything.
"I have not returned, Aragorn. I can not and you know that. But I can come to offer advice and counseling." Legolas bit his bottom lip, and for only the second time in his once long life, he found it to be quivering.
"I – " Aragorn started to speak but was soon silenced by a quick shake of Legolas' s blonde head.
"Aragorn, I know it is hard. Vala knows that there is not a day that goes by where I wish that I could change what was, but it is beyond both of us. You must understand that."
"I do, bu-"
"Shh! Let me speak, Estel." Legolas interjected, using Aragorn's Elven name, the one of hope, the one meaning hope. "Estel, I need you to think back to that day, remember my words." Legolas pleaded with the human that had now sat up to look at him more closely. "I made you promise me something, Estel, what was it?"
Aragorn didn't even have to think as the memory was clearly etched in his mind. "You bid me promise you to lead the fellowship on, and to find the hope that you could not. Legolas, I don't see what this has to do with anything."
"EVERYTHING!" Legolas cried, "it has to do with everything. I need you to keep that promise Aragorn."
"I did, Legolas, I did. I lead them on, we destroyed Sauron and the Ring. I did keep it Legolas!" Aragorn felt fear build inside of him, yet he didn't rightfully know why. Maybe it was the fact that he felt that somehow Legolas was disappointed in him, that he had failed but he could see no way in which he had.
"I know Estel, but what about the latter? What of the other part of that promise?" Legolas pushed that man into remembering. The Elf knew it must be hard for his friend, but I had to be done. He had left it too late in trying to help him, and now because of that he had to make him remember, no matter what the costs.
"I – I don't know what you mean." Frustration built up in the man's heart. All he wanted to do was to talk to his lost friend, to be near him, to hear him laugh as they once did in childhood, but Legolas would not let him, and continued to push him for answers he did not know.
"You promised me that you would find hope, Aragorn, that you would be able to be strong and that somehow, just somehow you would go on. Know that I hold you to that promise."
"How can I find hope when I have nothing?"
"Aragorn, look around you. You are the king of Gondor, you united the lands after they were in such turmoil. You have everything and yet you hide yourself away from the world, wishing it to all go away, to leave you alone. That is not hope, Estel! And that is how you broke your promise."
Legolas peered into Aragorn's eyes, hoping that he had gotten through to the man. He could see the sadness in his eyes and Legolas knew that he had, that Aragorn knew of what he was speaking of. "Aragorn, your people need you, please, please heed my words for I speak of only truth and only in the hopes of helping you. Do you fathom my meaning?"
"I do. It's just – it's just hard. I miss you my friend."
"As I do you. But you can not let me make you like this. It is like you dies that day with me,"
"I think I did." The man retorted seriously, much to Legolas's dismay.
"No you did not! You lived on, Estel, and you still do, it's time that you accepted what happened and move on," a slight laugh escaped the Elf's lips even though a tear trailed down his face, "I mean, look what you did to the tree."
Aragorn also laughed despite himself while looking over his shoulder at his handy work. There was a large hole in the side of the trunk, and for many centimeters around the hole the trunk was stripped of its bark.
"You do realize that under any other circumstances you'd be in trouble with me for doing something like that, don't you?" Legolas questioned his friend, who simply nodded, a small smile displayed on his face.
The two friends sat there for a moments longer, until finally Legolas broke the silence. "Aragorn," he said and then paused, knowing that the words he was about to say would break both their hearts, "I have to leave now."
"NO!" Aragorn shot back quickly and grabbing hold of the Elf's arm tightly, but Legolas shook it off.
"Please don't make this harder that it already is?" Legolas almost begged, before slowly rising. "Remember your promise this time Aragorn, son of Arathorn." And with that he slowly turned and walked back into the cover of the trees, not once looking back for the fear of the expression on Aragorn's face. Yet he left one last promise of his own, the same one he left five years ago to the ears of Aragorn and Gimli; "Gil galad sila goref, Estel na tol! Im ath beria le a heb nin bend!" ["A stars light will shine through, hope is coming! I will protect you and keep you safe!"]
Aragorn sat there stunned into silence as his best friend walked away and disappeared. He knew it was a sight that he would never forget no matter how long he lived. With down cast eyes that still wept he silently vowed to keep his promise this time, he would not forsake the memory of his friend again.
With a new appreciation, he turned his head to the sky to find the clouds drifting away to reveal the soft purple glow of the approaching dawn. Careful of the wounds on his hands, Aragorn climbed the tree that he had attacked so viciously the night before and sat on one of the highest branches, peacefully awaiting the sun to rise to mark the dawning of a brand new day.
*****
I feel an emptiness inside
A part of me already died
But I pretend that you go on
Like everything's okay
Then all we've built began to fall
As I began to lose it all
Shut my eyes to set me free.
*****
The end (again.)
Ok, it is the end for real this time, I mean, honestly, where else can I take it. So no more of this story. umm, oh yeah, I was having trouble decided as to whether to make Legolas all spirit like and not solid or have him be able to be touched. As you can see I went with the latter one as I felt it kinda gave it that further emotional impact. Hope you all liked and please review.
Minka Rain Greenleaf.
While this is not a song fic, I included the words of Hoobastank's "Losing my Grip" as it was that and Adema's "Everyone" that I was listening to at the time. Hoobastank's song kinda affected the outcome of this story so it is just there as a bit of a reference.
Umm, further notes down the bottom so not to ruin anything.
This chapter is dedicated to Blue Dragoness for your lovely complements and Lady V for your constant reviewing. Oh, and to YunaDax if you are reading this, hurry up and update your story!!!!!! And I e-mailed you about 4 times but they keep coming back saying that your account isn't working.
*****
Returning.
*****
Another night follows the day
Like a child does to its mother
And everywhere I look I see your face
On the face of others
And I can't escape the pain
*****
Darkness. That was all the lone figure could see. No light shone of the once golden woods, at least not in his heart. It was empty, unfulfilled and darkened with the constant suffering that was always there.
He had not stepped foot in these woods for many a year now, always fearing what he may find if he did so. It was only by chance that he came to be here now, yet another cruel twist of fate, designed to make him suffer more.
He had been travelling to Rivendell when a fierce storm blew in from the west, from the sea he now hated for no particular reason. Even now, in these current years, he remained a man of the land, of the wild, capable of anything. Yet this storm had been different, it had bothered even him and he soon found that he had to seek shelter in the place that he had long vowed never to return to.
If it had been a few yeas earlier, then this weather change would have brought a fear to his heart, a fear of dark tidings with ill outcomes. Yet times were different now and a simple storm, no matter how violent had no effect on him other to make him cold and uncomfortable.
He may have been where he did not want to be, but for some strange reason he didn't feel distressed about it. After all, he could still avoid the main place that had haunted every one of his dreams for years.
Every night he saw the same dream played out in his head, the same emotions rushed from him, and every morning he awoke to find the moist trails of tears on his face and small damp patched staining his pillow.
He hated it. Hated the feelings that he hid every day, only to have them come twice as strong at night and most of all the fact that at night, while the moon hung high over the land that no longer held any peace for him, he could not hide. No matter what he did, or where he went they always hunted him down and when the emotions hit, they stole his breath away.
It would start with a lump in his throat, just a small one that could be ignored for the time being, but it always got worse. As the moon made its way over the arched sky and the stars came out from their hiding places the lump would grow bigger. Then came the sick feeling in his gut, the thing telling him of what was to soon come to him, of the memories that would hit him like a tidal wave and knock him over. His face would grow hot and he could tell that he was turning red. The thought of not being about to stop what happened to him made it worse, and then, soon enough the first tear would fall.
It would twinkle like the stars themselves as it slipped out of the corner of his eye and traced down his cheek. But it never fell, as every time he angrily wiped it away, begging himself to stop it and get it together. But it never worked and soon he shed as many crystal clear tears as there were stars in the midnight sky.
Tonight was no different, bar the fact that there were no stars visible through the heavy cloud cover that streaked across the sky. His tears were no sooner shed before they were blown off his face to mix with the large droplets of rain that assaulted his body through his thick travelling cloak.
The solitary man made his way through the woods carefully, trying not to disturb anything more then necessary. In the gloom he had lost his way, and this part of the woods was alien to him, even with all his knowledge. He resented himself for allowing himself to get lost, especially in these woods. It was very unlike him to loose his way in the slightest. He was one of those people that could wake up and straight away tell you exactly where he was and who he was with, where they had come from and in what direction they were going. It was a talent, the gift of direction, of purpose. But his life had lost purpose a long time ago now and he feared that it might never return. That he would be doomed to live his life to the end of his days constantly wondering what could have been and what he should be doing.
Slowly, the rain began to stop, and with much relief he saw that he was coming to a nice little clearing. Hopes of finding somewhere to rest his weary body and troubled mind, he threw caution to the wind and sped up his pace.
In his eagerness to reaching the clearing he failed to notice the large tree to the left of him, one of the ones that created the circle of the border.
As his footsteps softly padded their way into the small grassy area the rain halted completely and the iciness of the air dropped. Exhausted, he dropped his pack to the wet ground, glad to be rid of it's weight. It mattered not that the ground was wet, as he and his belongings were soaked through as it was so, with a quick look around him he prepared to sit down.
But something caught his eye. Something that stood there, twisted into a blackened hellish thing of nightmares.
With a gasp, the man jumped back while looking at the tree with accusing eyes. It stood there, its leaves swaying in the wind that still howled through the woods and mocked him. Taunting him with its peaceful yet horrifying movements.
The man squinted his eyes at it, praying that it was not what he saw every night, that it was not the menacing shape that grew larger and larger in his mind with each passing day. But it was. It was what he feared most in this world, what he hated so strongly that it felt like a fire burning inside of him.
A quick and futile look around the clearing confirmed his suspicions beyond all reasonable doubt, and with a sinking heart he clasped the hilt of his sword.
With the cold steel in his hands he felt powerful, unbeatable and in control. That was until the dipping and swaying of the tree's branches started to plague his vision and mind.
That swaying…that moving…that life.
A yell of anger escaped his lips and he ran at the tree, sword held high above his head. For this one moment, the split second it took his to cross the clearing to the tree it was just him. Everything left his mind, everything melted away from his memory and sight. All he could see was this one tree and the only thing he felt was the pain that it had caused him.
He swung his arms back and let the blow follow through with all the strength he could muster. Bits of bark flew off to hit his face and arms as he struck the thick trunk time and time again. With each and every hit, each time the sword bit into the flesh of the tree he felt better, and for the first time in over five years he felt as if he could go on. As if through the sap that seeped from the wounded tree it granted him life and above all hope.
He knew not how long he stood there, battling with the defenseless tree, but all too soon for his liking his arms grew weary and it became harder and harder to lift his sword. His face was covered in a mixture of tears, sap and fragments of bark while his hair held most of the same substances.
Slowly while breathing hard he sunk to his knees on the ground, his head spinning with mixed emotions and his body feeling frail and weak.
He looked at his hands, still gripping the sword so tightly that his knuckles had turned white from the lack of blood pumping through them. Sap covered them thickly, as well as something else, something red.
Blood.
Quickly he cast the sword away as if it were a poisonous arrow. His hands were lacerated with cuts and bits of splintered wood stuck out of his palms and fingers. Even now as he looked he felt no pain from the wounds only pain in his heart.
Sliding to his side, he hugged himself, willing everything to go away and to leave him alone. But it did no good, and no matter how much he tried, the world still turned, and his heart still beat.
"Aragorn?" he heard a soft voice call his name. Slightly puzzled, he lifted his head, wondering who could have possible found him and what they wanted.
At first he could see nothing as tears clouded his eyes, much like sleep did to those of an Elf. But slowly they cleared, and he was able to focus on the tall being standing just above him.
"Aragorn," it was more of a statement than anything, the voice was filled with pain and grief and the figure quickly knelt down to look at the human still lying on the ground.
Aragorn looked at the form in front of him and as it lent forward a familiar smell filled his nostrils. The faint smell of newly blooming honey-suckles. Something about the way this stranger held himself pulled at Aragorn's heart and as he gently yet sadly spoke his name again, Aragorn bit his lip in hope and wonder.
"Legolas?" he whispered softly while peering into the face that was glowing slightly with the usual Elven glow. Hope sailed in his heart, and yet, there was a pause from the stranger's part, making the man fear the Elf's reply.
Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, the being before him spoke softly while reaching out a hand and tracing the man's cheek. "It is I, Aragorn. It is I."
Aragorn's breath caught in his throat. Questions of how and why ran through his head, but he pushed them down. All he wanted to think of was that his dearest friend had returned. He went to open his mouth to express his joy and confusion, but the Elf beat him to it.
"Oh Aragorn, what has happened to you, my friend?" Legolas asked gently and softly, while still keeping contact with the man's face.
The words, while sounding so innocent held a deeper meaning to them, and only in his eyes could this be strongly reflected. Legolas still held the look of one of someone young and naive, but his eyes, his eyes told his soul and his wisdom.
Aragorn knew that the Elf was taking of more than just his bleed hands or his current state, but somehow the words caught in his throat and could not be forced over his tongue. He merely reached up and grasped Legolas's hand with his own, holding it as if it were his only possession.
"How are you here?" he finally asked after a long minutes silence. "How did you come back?"
Again he saw the sadness in Legolas's eyes even though the Elf's impassive mask hid all other emotion from his face. It was at that point that Aragorn understood, he understood everything.
"I have not returned, Aragorn. I can not and you know that. But I can come to offer advice and counseling." Legolas bit his bottom lip, and for only the second time in his once long life, he found it to be quivering.
"I – " Aragorn started to speak but was soon silenced by a quick shake of Legolas' s blonde head.
"Aragorn, I know it is hard. Vala knows that there is not a day that goes by where I wish that I could change what was, but it is beyond both of us. You must understand that."
"I do, bu-"
"Shh! Let me speak, Estel." Legolas interjected, using Aragorn's Elven name, the one of hope, the one meaning hope. "Estel, I need you to think back to that day, remember my words." Legolas pleaded with the human that had now sat up to look at him more closely. "I made you promise me something, Estel, what was it?"
Aragorn didn't even have to think as the memory was clearly etched in his mind. "You bid me promise you to lead the fellowship on, and to find the hope that you could not. Legolas, I don't see what this has to do with anything."
"EVERYTHING!" Legolas cried, "it has to do with everything. I need you to keep that promise Aragorn."
"I did, Legolas, I did. I lead them on, we destroyed Sauron and the Ring. I did keep it Legolas!" Aragorn felt fear build inside of him, yet he didn't rightfully know why. Maybe it was the fact that he felt that somehow Legolas was disappointed in him, that he had failed but he could see no way in which he had.
"I know Estel, but what about the latter? What of the other part of that promise?" Legolas pushed that man into remembering. The Elf knew it must be hard for his friend, but I had to be done. He had left it too late in trying to help him, and now because of that he had to make him remember, no matter what the costs.
"I – I don't know what you mean." Frustration built up in the man's heart. All he wanted to do was to talk to his lost friend, to be near him, to hear him laugh as they once did in childhood, but Legolas would not let him, and continued to push him for answers he did not know.
"You promised me that you would find hope, Aragorn, that you would be able to be strong and that somehow, just somehow you would go on. Know that I hold you to that promise."
"How can I find hope when I have nothing?"
"Aragorn, look around you. You are the king of Gondor, you united the lands after they were in such turmoil. You have everything and yet you hide yourself away from the world, wishing it to all go away, to leave you alone. That is not hope, Estel! And that is how you broke your promise."
Legolas peered into Aragorn's eyes, hoping that he had gotten through to the man. He could see the sadness in his eyes and Legolas knew that he had, that Aragorn knew of what he was speaking of. "Aragorn, your people need you, please, please heed my words for I speak of only truth and only in the hopes of helping you. Do you fathom my meaning?"
"I do. It's just – it's just hard. I miss you my friend."
"As I do you. But you can not let me make you like this. It is like you dies that day with me,"
"I think I did." The man retorted seriously, much to Legolas's dismay.
"No you did not! You lived on, Estel, and you still do, it's time that you accepted what happened and move on," a slight laugh escaped the Elf's lips even though a tear trailed down his face, "I mean, look what you did to the tree."
Aragorn also laughed despite himself while looking over his shoulder at his handy work. There was a large hole in the side of the trunk, and for many centimeters around the hole the trunk was stripped of its bark.
"You do realize that under any other circumstances you'd be in trouble with me for doing something like that, don't you?" Legolas questioned his friend, who simply nodded, a small smile displayed on his face.
The two friends sat there for a moments longer, until finally Legolas broke the silence. "Aragorn," he said and then paused, knowing that the words he was about to say would break both their hearts, "I have to leave now."
"NO!" Aragorn shot back quickly and grabbing hold of the Elf's arm tightly, but Legolas shook it off.
"Please don't make this harder that it already is?" Legolas almost begged, before slowly rising. "Remember your promise this time Aragorn, son of Arathorn." And with that he slowly turned and walked back into the cover of the trees, not once looking back for the fear of the expression on Aragorn's face. Yet he left one last promise of his own, the same one he left five years ago to the ears of Aragorn and Gimli; "Gil galad sila goref, Estel na tol! Im ath beria le a heb nin bend!" ["A stars light will shine through, hope is coming! I will protect you and keep you safe!"]
Aragorn sat there stunned into silence as his best friend walked away and disappeared. He knew it was a sight that he would never forget no matter how long he lived. With down cast eyes that still wept he silently vowed to keep his promise this time, he would not forsake the memory of his friend again.
With a new appreciation, he turned his head to the sky to find the clouds drifting away to reveal the soft purple glow of the approaching dawn. Careful of the wounds on his hands, Aragorn climbed the tree that he had attacked so viciously the night before and sat on one of the highest branches, peacefully awaiting the sun to rise to mark the dawning of a brand new day.
*****
I feel an emptiness inside
A part of me already died
But I pretend that you go on
Like everything's okay
Then all we've built began to fall
As I began to lose it all
Shut my eyes to set me free.
*****
The end (again.)
Ok, it is the end for real this time, I mean, honestly, where else can I take it. So no more of this story. umm, oh yeah, I was having trouble decided as to whether to make Legolas all spirit like and not solid or have him be able to be touched. As you can see I went with the latter one as I felt it kinda gave it that further emotional impact. Hope you all liked and please review.
Minka Rain Greenleaf.