To the Ends of Middle-earth

Chapter 6 (canon): Revelations

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Arwen hurried downstairs to where she had left Faramir the night before. He and Éowyn sat together by the window watching the dawn. It was obvious neither had slept all night.

She wasted no time in soft words or greetings. "Éowyn, Faramir, I need you to come with me. We’re making a terrible mistake, I must go to Aragorn at once."

Hope flared in their faces. "You mean -." began Faramir.

He face saddened. "No. Not that. I’m sorry, I should have thought. Come with me, I’ll explain when we meet Aragorn and Gimli."

She led them through the streets of Minas Tirith. They were followed at a discreet distance by two guards. It was very early and only a few people were about. They stared and hurriedly bowed as they watched their Queen pass by. Behind her, Faramir and Éowyn were exchanging mystified looks. Overhead the sky was a clear blue, and the day was already warm. It was a beautiful morning.

The guards on duty saluted as they passed through the walls. At length they came again to Rath Dinen. At the end of the street was the House of the Kings. The door stood open. Arwen ascended the steps, then for the first time faltered. "Aragorn. Gimli." She spoke quietly, but they both turned at her voice.

"What is it? Is anything wrong?"

"Nothing else. But I’ve realised there’s something I have to tell you, so you understand."

Now all four looked mystified, but they followed Arwen back onto the steps where they sat down. Gimli cast a look over his shoulder at the still figure within. Aragorn could not suppress a sigh of relief after standing during the long night’s vigil.

Swiftly she told them of the incident deep under Lasgalen, so long ago. "I don’t think he talked to anyone about it, ever. You all know how stubborn he can be - could be" she corrected herself.

Aragorn picked at a loose thread on his tunic. "I see. It explains a lot. I knew he was uneasy when we travelled through Moria, but none of us was comfortable. Except Gimli. But he never said what was wrong."

"He thought that his fear was a weakness. He would never admit to it." Beside her, Gimli had listened in silence. She could feel a barely suppressed anger in him, which suddenly erupted into words.

"Why did he never say anything? All the way through Moria I tormented him about the mines. I teased him about cave-ins! And yesterday I laughed with you about our visit to Aglarond. Why did he never say anything? Blasted Elf!"

As his anger and grief ran out the last two words caught up with him. He stopped, horror struck, and tried to take them back. "Arwen - Aragorn - I’m sorry. I didn’t mean -."

Arwen caught his hand. "It’s all right. We know what you mean." From somewhere she found a small smile. "It’s what you always called him when he won an argument or you were exasperated with him."

Now she addressed herself to the other three as well. "I didn’t say anything before, because it was not my secret, not my business to talk of his fears. But now - Aragorn, I know you mean to honour him. But the Tomb of the Kings is not the place for him. He - he would not want to be entombed in cold stone." She stopped, exhausted by the vehemence of her words. She saw Aragorn, Gimli, Faramir and Éowyn all nodding in agreement as they pondered what she said.

"Yes. You are right, of course. I should have thought. But what do we do instead?"

Arwen paused then, shooting an apologetic look at Faramir. As she continued, Aragorn understood her hesitance.

"I think we should give him to the flames. Let the fire and smoke carry his spirit to the four winds. He was always a wanderer. Let him wander now." She finally ran out of words, and stopped.

Faramir had tensed at this reminder of his father’s death and his own near immolation, but as he considered what she said he found it made more and more sense. Aragorn and Gimli, too, initially reluctant - it was how they disposed of orc carrion - found themselves approving. It was fitting. There was no shame in it, and it was truly a better tribute for Legolas than a dark tomb, or even the cold earth.

There was silence for a moment. All five were tired after the long sleepless night, and grief and strain were etched on their faces, even Éowyn, who perhaps knew him less well than the others. Then Faramir rose to his feet and pulled Éowyn to hers. "Aragorn, go home. Talk to your son. The guards can take the vigil, and I can do all that is necessary. I will see you later. Go."

Gimli spoke his agreement. "Aragorn? He’s right. There’s nothing more we can do for now. And if the rites are to be officially observed, you need to be more formally dressed."

Aragorn looked down at himself. His tunic was frayed at the edge, and his leggings had a muddy grass stain on one knee from when he had been playing with Ithilia the day before. He sighed. "You’re right, Gimli. This has to be done properly. And I need to see Eldarion."

When the other four departed for their various destinations, Gimli stood alone on the steps, feeling rather at a loss. There was no task for him to do, and he had nothing more formal to change into. Slowly, he turned, and went back up the steps into the House Of The Kings. He needed some time alone, and to make a final, silent, private farewell.

The previous night he had been unable to bring himself to turn and look at Legolas, not wanting to put an end to his vain hopes, not wanting to face the truth. But now he was finally accepting reality - and he had an apology to make.

Slowly, still reluctant, he crossed the chamber to the stone table bearing the bier. The tread of his boots echoed in the empty silence. At last he stood at the side of the catafalque, gazing down at his friend’s still body. The golden hair, dry now, shone again like the sun. His face, always pale, was now like marble, and just as cold. His hands, the long slender fingers, were crossed on his chest. Gimli could see calluses on the tips of the fingers on one hand from the bowstring. For a long time, he simply stood, looking, while the image was engraved on his memory.

"Goodbye, my friend. I’m going to miss you. Even your terrible jokes and tricks."

His words, though softly spoken, seemed to ring in the echoing chamber. "Why are you so stubborn? You should have told me the truth when we went to Aglarond. I knew you didn’t like the caves, but I thought that was just an elf thing. I never imagined the real reason. I’m sorry, you’ll never know now how sorry I am, but I didn’t know. Why didn’t you tell me? Didn’t you trust me?"

He stopped abruptly, aware of footsteps behind him. He turned his head to see Faramir crossing the stone floor.

"Gimli. Talking to yourself?"

He gave a curt nod. "Just - saying goodbye. And apologizing."

"About the caves?"

Gimli nodded again. "Why didn’t he trust us enough to say? Why didn’t he ever tell us?"

Faramir looked at him in sympathy. "I think, from what Arwen said, that it wasn’t that he didn’t trust you. It sounds like it was something he would never admit, even to himself. I got to know him well in Ithilien. He could be very stubborn, and would never show anything he felt was a weakness."

"Aye, you’re right." He looked back at Legolas. "Stubborn elf!"

"Gimli, I’m going back now. Will you come with me?"

"In a minute. I’ll see you at Aragorn’s house."

Faramir left, and Gimli was left again in silence. He took one long, last look, and caught his breath in shock. Surely not.......? There was another long pause, so long he was convinced he had imagined it. But there it was again, a barely perceptible rise of the chest, so faint he would never have seen it if he had not been focused so intently. He turned his head and shouted for the guards. "Go after Faramir, bring him back now!" he ordered.

Gimli had no authority over the guards, but something in his tone brooked no argument. With a startled nod, one turned and left swiftly.

Still not believing what he had seen, he took one hand in his, fingers pressed to the inside of the wrist. Nothing. There was nothing. Noth - a flicker, the merest flutter, nearly imperceptible, but there. He knew now he was not imagining it, but did not know what to do.

He fell to talking to his friend again. "Hold on, Legolas. I’m going to get Aragorn to come. He’ll know what to do. Hold on." He repeated the words mindlessly, a lifeline for himself as much as Legolas. Once or twice he felt the tiny quiver against his fingers. Presently he heard a rush of feet and Faramir and Aragorn appeared at the door.

"Gimli, what is it?" Aragorn demanded.

"I felt a pulse. He’s breathing. He’s alive, Aragorn!"

Dubious, Aragorn took the other wrist, feeling for the neck pulse at the same time. For a long time he was silent. Then he looked at Gimli sadly. "It’s no good, my friend. There’s nothing there. He’s dead - " he broke off, eyes meeting Gimli’s incredulously. "You’re right! How could I have missed it? But it’s weak, so weak - "

He stopped then, moving his position. Still holding one wrist he placed his other hand over Legolas’ heart. He closed his eyes, head bowed.

"Aragorn - " Gimli started to say.

Faramir shushed him. "Leave him. I’ve seen this before. Wait."

Aragorn stood motionless, strain showing on his face. He said nothing. After a while he lifted his head and sighed.

"He’s a little stronger, I think. But it’s not enough. I want to get him back so Arwen can help me. Let’s get out of this mausoleum!"

Faramir picked Legolas up gently, marvelling at how light and - frail - he felt. Swiftly they returned to Aragorn’s house, Gimli trailing at the rear, feeling overwhelmed. The streets were still quiet, but the few people who were about looked at them in disbelief.

As they entered, Aragorn called for a servant, bidding her to find Arwen. He went to the room Legolas used when he visited, followed by Faramir and Gimli. Arwen appeared seconds later.

"What’s going on?"

Aragorn turned to her. "I don’t know what’s happened, or how I missed it, but he’s alive. The life signs are very faint, though. I’m still not sure - Arwen, have you ever seen anything like this before?"

She crossed to the bed, still disbelieving. Like Gimli and Aragorn she felt for a pulse, frowning. Suddenly she gave a gasp and looked up in surprise. "You’re right! But I’ve never known it so slow in anyone."

"I need you to help me. We’ve got to try to get him back."

They took up identical positions on either side of the bed, one hand on Legolas’ forehead, the other over his heart. Gimli watched in awe. Two healers, one elven, both now mortal, struggling against - something - for a life. The strain showed in them both. Aragorn, already weary, was grey with exhaustion. Arwen did not look much better.

For a long, interminable time, nothing happened. For want of anything else to do, Gimli reached between them and again felt for a pulse. It was still so faint he could scarcely feel it. Sounds from the slowly waking city, bird song, cart wheels, voices, cries from street vendors, shouts and laughter, drifted in through the windows - open as always. Gimli suspected Legolas had never shut a window in his life. Apart from the sounds outside, the room was silent. It was as if they were all holding their breath, waiting.

The change came very suddenly. Legolas took a deep breath, then another. The pulse under Gimli’s anxious fingers returned suddenly, strong now. The cold pallor of his face flushed with life. Gimli heard a gasp behind him, and turned to see Éowyn. The two healers straightened. Arwen met Aragorn’s gaze wearily, but her eyes were bright.

Only seconds later, Legolas’ eyes opened. He looked startled, to say the least, to see so many people in the room. He blinked in surprise, and levered himself into a sitting position. "What’s the matter? Did I oversleep?"

No one made any response. Legolas looked warily at the faces surrounding him. "What’s wrong?" he asked uneasily. "Why is everyone staring at me?"

Arwen shook her head and gave him a brilliant smile. "Nothing’s wrong. It’s just - " she stopped. "It’s good to see you," she said simply. He stared at her, wondering if it was him that was mad, or everyone else. He felt at a distinct disadvantage on the bed while the others stood over him. He stood up, but it only added to his sense of confusion to realize he was fully clothed. He saw Gimli, wearing a broad grin, and looked at him suspiciously.

"Gimli, if I find out you had anything to do with this ...." he let the threat hang.

Aragorn swiftly raised his hand to forestall any further accusations. "It’s not Gimli’s fault. Legolas, what do you remember of last night?"

Legolas sighed. He was right, it was everyone else who was mad. "There was a storm" he said patiently. "We went up on the roof to find Eldarion, he’d got stuck. He was soaked to the skin, poor child." A thought struck him, and he looked at Aragorn in alarm. "He is all right, isn’t he? I thought he’d only got wet!"

"He’s fine" Aragorn reassured him. "Then what happened?"

Legolas paused, and his expression went blank. "That’s strange. I can’t remember anything after we picked Eldarion up." He looked at Aragorn curiously. "What did happen?"

Before Aragorn had the chance to explain, Eldarion burst in through the door and launched himself at Legolas from a dead run. He hugged him tightly, arms clamped around the elf’s neck. He murmured "You’re alive, you’re alive!" over and over.

Legolas staggered slightly under the impact, loosened the boy’s stranglehold, and spoke reassuringly to him. "Well, of course I’m alive, why wouldn’t I be?" He became aware of a change in the quality of the silence in the room. Looking up from Eldarion he saw no one would meet his gaze. Slowly he sat on the bed, moving Eldarion with him, and put one arm around the boy’s shoulders. "I think someone had better tell me what did happen last night" he said quietly.

The questions and explanations went on for most of the morning. The questions came from everyone, the explanations, what there were, came mostly from Gimli, Aragorn and Arwen. Aragorn tried to describe as best he could what he thought had happened. "When the lightning hit, the shock was immense. I think everything stopped, just shut down. Your heart rate and breathing were so slow and faint we couldn’t detect it at all. Gods, Legolas, we all thought you were dead. It was a miracle that Gimli noticed anything. Arwen and I managed to bring it back to normal, but I’m still not entirely sure how we did it."

Legolas was silent. He felt uncomfortable with the description of how close to death he had been, especially as he had no recollection of it whatsoever. It was - disorientating. At last he spoke. "It seems I caused you a great deal of grief and worry. I’m sorry. I don’t remember anything, and can’t tell you what happened, or answer your questions. I wish I could." He turned then to Aragorn and Arwen. He said softly, "For whatever you did, thank you."

Faramir and Éowyn left then, but before they went, Faramir turned to him. "I’ve never been so glad in my life to have been wrong. Aragorn, you look exhausted. I can see to any business that needs to be dealt with today. Get some rest."

Aragorn was about to argue, but his grief, the long night, the strain of the healing and his reaction to the morning’s events were taking their toll. He nodded tiredly. "All right. But only for an hour or two."

Eldarion was asleep, leaning against Legolas. The elf picked him up, and looked down at the boy, brushing the dark hair from his face before passing him to Aragorn. "When he wakes up, tell him we’ll start those archery lessons this afternoon, if he wants to."

Arwen smiled. "He’d love that."

Eldarion awoke then, looking round sleepily and giving a smile when he saw Legolas. "Father, put me down! I don’t need to be carried!" he demanded, with all the indignation of a twelve year old who fears he is being treated like a child.

As father and son left, Arwen went to Legolas and hugged him tightly. He heard a muffled sob. "Don’t cry," he chided her. He had never seen Arwen cry in all the long years they had known one another, not even when Elrond departed over the sea from the Grey Havens.

"It’s relief," she assured him. "It’s good to have you back."

"I might agree, if I felt I’d been away," he said lightly. She gave him a swift kiss and went out of the room. Before Gimli left too, he turned to Legolas.

"You do realize that all the plans we made last night were a waste of time, don‘t you?"

"Plans?"

"Aye. What we were going to do, who should be told, that sort of thing."

For the first time that day, Legolas laughed, but then he looked sharply at Gimli. " ‘ Who should be told’ ? Have you already sent out messengers? My father - "

"No, it’s all right! I was going to go myself, after the - later today," he amended.

Legolas gave a sigh of relief. "Thank the Valar. I don’t think he could stand too many shocks like that," he added cryptically. "Anyway, it’s a good thing you realized when you did. Thank you."

Gimli merely grunted. He had had the same thoughts himself. If he had not returned to the House Of The Kings, if he had not seen the slight movement, then right now - he did not pursue that thought, but feared it would give him nightmares for weeks. He shook his head, then recalled Arwen’s words that morning, words that had been driven from his mind by subsequent events.

"Arwen told us an interesting story this morning. About the cave-in at Lasgalen, when you were children."

"Arwen told you that?"

"Yes, she did. Why did you never tell me yourself?" he demanded.

Legolas shrugged. "I don’t know. It’s something I try not to think about. I don’t think I’ve told anyone - the only reason Arwen knows is because she was there. But you’re right, I should have said. But why did she tell you then?"

"Aragorn had some idea about honouring a hero - ‘a great hero of the city’ were his words. You saved Eldarion’s life, did you know that? You pushed him out of the way seconds before the lightning hit. Anyway, you were to be given a hero’s burial, laid in the Tomb of the Kings. Arwen didn’t think it was a good idea."

"A tomb? She was right, it wasn’t a good idea. It’s just as well you did realize. I can’t imagine anything worse!" He glanced out of the window at the sun, now high in the sky. "Come, it’s time I went to the armoury. I promised Eldarion some archery lessons this afternoon."

"I should think he’d be better off learning from Aragorn’s guards. He’ll need to learn a lot more quickly than you did, he won’t be able to spend the next thousand years practising his skills!"

"Really? Well, I’m not surprised Aragorn turned down your offer to teach Eldarion axe fighting. Under your influence he would probably have ended up cutting off his own foot! But I suppose it’s a useful skill if he ever runs out of firewood," he added charitably.

Gimli spluttered. "Firewood?! May I remind you that the art of axe fighting has been practised by the Dwarves for many thousands of years!"

"Practised, yes. Are they any good at it yet?"

Still arguing, they headed down the stairs and into the courtyard. As they passed, the household servants who heard them smiled. Things were back to normal.

The End

Alternate Universe Ending

Author’s Notes:

I never intended to write this chapter, but the whole scene came to me one night when I couldn’t get to sleep - I wrote it the next day. It might satisfy those of you who were so indignant at the previous ending! The first part of this chapter is the same as the original, but then the events vary."

Well, everything’s all right again! I decided to do it this way as I have read several stories recently where Legolas is lost in some sort of Limbo, struggling to return, (or not wanting to return for some reason). I’m not knocking them, they are brilliant stories - but I didn’t want to write another like that. Having him wake up, wondering what all the fuss is about seemed a different way to approach the problem. And yes, I do know that Legolas and Arwen weren’t there at the Grey Havens when Frodo, Bilbo, Gandalf, Elrond and Galadriel left. But they should have been.

I must admit that the original ending is my favourite, it seems more satisfying, but I did feel very guilty at killing him, and just a little heartbroken! Please review, and let me know which version you prefer!!

Jay

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