And Time Remembered

Author: lwarren

Disclaimer: The world of Middle-earth and all its wonders and characters belong to J.R.R.Tolkien.  I just like to play there from time to time.

Summary: Legolas receives a gift in parting and a promise from Aragorn.

“For winter’s rains and ruins are over
And all the season of snows and sins;
The days dividing lover and lover,
The light that loses, the night that wins;
And time remembered is grief forgotten,
And in green underwood and cover
Blossom by blossom the spring begins.”

                                       Algernon Charles Swinburne
                                        -Atalanta in Calydon

He sat beneath a trio of ancient trees, allowing their diminished, yet still discernible song to comfort him somewhat as he stared into the flames of a small fire kindled in a vain attempt to keep the darkness at bay.

The restless agitation of the golden stallion he had sent to graze a short time ago caught his attention. 

Anorion, calm yourself.  The only shadows here are those cast by the fire.  Sedho, mellon nin.  All is well.

The great horse snorted anxiously, pacing near enough to snuffle the golden hair and give what comfort he could to his anguished rider.  The elf had been in an almost frenzied state for more than a week.

Legolas wrapped one arm around the long neck and buried his face in the warm hide.   I am well.  Go take some food and water, my friend.   He gave the stallion a firm, affectionate slap on the shoulder to send him on his way.  Reassured, the regal beast returned to grazing on the abundant grass growing at the edge of the fire’s light.

Legolas smiled faintly, his storm cloud gray eyes examining the clean strong legs, proud head and bright coloring of the animal while remembering another faithful friend, long gone.

Ai, Alfirin, I wish you could see this one.  This many times great grandson of yours reminds me more of you than any who have come before.  It pains me to think of leaving him.

The smile faded as he reached into the hidden placket of his tunic and drew out a folded, sealed parchment.  Long slender fingers tightened reflexively as the elf stared at it thoughtfully.

It had been placed in his hand that morning at the edge of the Golden Wood – or what remained of it – by Aragorn’s queen, Arwen – or what remained of her.

At her request, he had carried his best friend’s grieving widow before him on Anorion for a week, away from Minas Tirith, returning her to the forest where she and Aragorn had plighted their troth long years before...a circle now completed.

Upon their arrival, he had helped her down from her seat on the horse, her pale face and blank expression no less alarming than the first time he had seen her after Aragorn’s passing…she just was not there anymore.

Arwen’s magnificent blue eyes had scanned the forest before her for several minutes, awareness slowly returning as she turned to Legolas, finally seeing him for the first time in days.

“No further, my friend,” she had whispered, lifting a slender, cool hand to gently cup his cheek.  “Hannon le, Legolas Thranduilion.  You have been as a brother to both Aragorn and me…we love you dearly.”

Hot tears stung his eyes.  “Arwen…” he choked.

“Shhhhh,” she hushed him, placing soft fingers tenderly on his lips.  “Go now.”

Reaching into a fold of her traveling cloak, she had drawn the sealed document forth, placing it in his hands.

“Namarië,” she said softly and turned, walking away into the trees.

“Namarië, Undomiel,” he had replied helplessly, unwilling to deny her this last request, even as his heart screamed at him to spirit her away to a safe place.  As she had disappeared, swallowed by the shadows of the wood, he had slowly come to sense she would not be alone.  Somewhere close by, her brothers and grandfather waited; silent, heart-broken guardians.  They would remain with her until the end.

That thought had not eased him, however, and he had flung himself on Anorion’s back, sending the powerful animal in a headlong rush away from Lothlorien, determined to put as many miles as possible between himself and this new grief.

Only when darkness fell and concealed the small hazards of the path; only when the fear of injury to his horse jolted him to awareness, did he finally look for a place to stop for the night.  Fortunately, the shallow stream with its attendant trees had been only several hundred yards off the main path and he had quickly built a fire, rubbed his exhausted mount down, and released him to feed on the fresh grass nearby.  Now he sat alone, clutching the missive in his hand, turning it over to study the elegant seal of Elessar pressed into the wax.

Face grim, he broke the seal and opened the parchment, the sight of the familiar strong and distinctive handwriting causing his jaw to clench as a fresh wave of pain assailed him.

A letter.

From Aragorn.

Turbulent gray eyes lifted to the night sky above, seeking whatever comfort the stars might offer and gradually finding it in the crystal clarity of their light.  Breathing deeply, he lowered his eyes and began to read.

Legolas, my dearest friend and brother,

If you are reading this letter, then I have made my choice and passed beyond the circles of this world to whatever end Eru has planned for men…and me.

I know we will have talked, you and I, before my time came.  However, knowing myself (and you, mellon nin), much of what needed to be voiced between us probably remained unsaid.

“You always thought you knew it all…especially after you became King,” Legolas whispered to his absent friend, his voice breaking slightly on the last word.  Shaking his head, he continued to read.

And there is much I would say to you, Thranduilion.  I am not certain you have ever fully appreciated what you have come to mean to me over the years of our friendship.

Do you remember when first we met?  You comforted a small boy and helped him accept and become a part of the elven world he was forced to live in.  That simple act of kindness made you a hero in my eyes.

Even after I came of age – and do not misunderstand my meaning here – but you were still so old, so experienced.  I knew I would never catch up.

“Not for lack of trying, though,” Legolas murmured, as flashes of memory bombarded his mind…Estel hanging from a tree upside down and chattering like a demented squirrel, Estel sparring with Elladan, wielding his wooden sword awkwardly while he challenged Elrohir to an archery contest, Estel on his first hunt, field dressing his first deer, a young, exultant Aragorn meeting Thranduil’s warriors at the borders of Mirkwood, accompanied by his Dunedain kin…The grim expression eased, the gray eyes softened as he read on.

…and I could not overcome those combined obstacles enough to see you through the eyes of a friend.  A mentor?  Yes.  A teacher?  Certainly.  A cherished, long looked for companion?  Definitely.  But I was still a child, and you were so BIG in my eyes.

Legolas humphed softly.  “Foolish.”

I think I remained in awe of you until the Fellowship was formed and we began the quest to help Frodo destroy the Ring.  I suppose that journey became a great equalizer for me.  One cannot endure the horror, the hardships, and fear we experienced together and not forge strong bonds – or in our case, strengthen already existing ones.

It was during those months when I gradually accepted the fact I had become your peer…that I began to accept the friendship I saw offered in your eyes…that we became brothers of the heart.

And now, how can I thank you for such a gift?  How can I make you understand, you who made such an art of looking at me askance when I would try, only to shrug and change the subject?

Legolas shook his head.

I can see you now – shaking your head and trying to make light of your devotion to me.  Do not, gwador nin.  At least, let me have my own way now.

The gray eyes filled with tears.  “Well, I suppose just this once…” he whispered.

Do you remember when Arod was injured and the sea-longing almost took you from us?  We took that long journey through Rohan and ended up on the shores of Belegaer with Arador and his family.  Arador and I had a talk about you then.  I was so afraid for you I was ready to tie you up, take you to Mithlond, and put you on a ship myself!  Arador told me that it was not my place to question your decision or the will of Eru, Who had given you the Song to help you endure.  He told me your place was by my side… that you were part of a greater plan, in which our friendship also played a role.

Legolas chuckled softly.  “Arador always thought we both were a little slow, Estel.”  He continued on, absorbing the words on the page before him.  How he missed the sound of Aragorn's voice already!

I have tried to remember his wisdom and words over these long years, especially the days when you struggled so against it, as I would watch your face pale and your eyes dim with longing until you no longer knew anyone for hours on end.  Aravir always watched over you then, did you realize that?  At least, while he could, bless him – even as I write this, I miss him still.

We talked often, Arwen and I, about you and how you would cope with my passing.  Our passing.  I suppose that is part of the reason for this letter.  I will not tell you not to grieve – you never listen to me anyway.

But I will say this, what we were to each other – friends, companions, brothers – still lives in you, Legolas.  It is part of the past that makes you who you are.  Those we love and who have loved and treasured us are always with us.  I know in your eyes we had such a short time…I could see you measuring the days sometimes and it hurt me to see you caught up in such a human preoccupation.

But short though our time was I hope you can be as grateful as I am for it and allow the memories to live on in you, to bring you happiness.  I hope you know that WE – you, an immortal, and I, a mortal – forged between us a tie strong and unbreakable.

We are both part of a design so intricate, so far above our understanding, that I suppose the only thing left to do now is give in to it.  And trust.  Trust that this is not the end, my friend.  I believe that and I want you to believe it, too.

Believe it, Legolas.  Be happy.  Let the sea take you home.  Rejoice in being with your adar and naneth again…with all those lost or gone before.  Reclaim your joy in the forest.  Learn all the new songs that the Blessed Realm has to offer – and sing a new song of your own.

Be at peace, Legolas, and know this…When the time comes, I will be waiting for you, gwador nin.

                                                                              Estel

A shaking hand clumsily wiped the tears away. Legolas folded the letter carefully and put it back in the hidden pocket of his tunic.  Standing, he walked to the nearest tree and leaped onto the lowest limb, rapidly making his way to the higher branches, where he chose one likely to support him for the night and settled, leaning back against the massive bole and gazing at the dark sky.  The elf listened to the night creatures sing their small songs to the wind, recalling every memory, large and small that now defined the whole of a friendship with an engaging, exasperating human.

And as the first rays of Anor announced the birth of a new day, he whispered, “I will be there, Estel.  I promise.  When that time finally comes, I will be there.”