General Ramblings: Legolas is very OOC is this story, so forgive me if you do not like such things. There IS a character death! The story is in Legolas' POV, and this all happens after Aragorn 'dies' by wargs. Movie-verse, obviously, since that did not happen in the book! Although some is book-verse, because I do not put in the elves coming to Helms Deep. (Therefore, Haldir does NOT die!) One-shot fic.

Repost! I've decided to repost this without the lyrics (the reason I had to take it down.) For all of those who liked the original, e-mail me and I'll see what I can do. It was originally to My Immortal, by Evanescence, so you can still listen to that while reading. ;-)

Spoilers: Spoilers for The Two Towers! (Movie)

Disclaimer: I don't own Lord of the Rings or any of the characters… sadly. I merely borrow them and return them as good as new. They belong to the genius, J.R.R. Tolkien. Rights to the movie belong to Peter Jackson or New Line Cinema or whoever…

Summary: Legolas thinks Aragorn has fallen at the hands of Orcs and believes he has lost his best friend. Now he is forced into battle with no hope. Will Aragorn come in time to save him?

Warnings: Character death, AU, and Legolas is very OOC. Rated PG-13 for death and violence.

Beta: Was beta'd by my best friend: Mari. Could almost be considered to be co-written, because she kept making me change my ending:cries: But, BIG THANK YOU to her, anyway! Thanks, Mari!

Elven Warrior


I turn around, searching for the face I knew so well. Apparently Gimli also notices that Aragorn was missing, for he begins to call out as well. I spotted an Orc lying against a rock, cackling. I rush over with Gimli behind me. I fear what the Orc will say. I begin to question the foul orc just as Gimli rests his axe upon the Orc's neck; none to gently. "Tell me what happened and I'll ease your passing!" he growls brusquely.

The Orc cackles again. Anger takes over my emotions and I glare coldly at him. As he continues to laugh, I snap: "Where is he? Speak up!" I am ashamed to say my hands are slightly shaking, as I fear the worst has happened to my brother. However, Gimli thinks it is just because of my anger; I hope.

"He's…gehehe…dead," the Orc cackles again. "He took a little tumble off the cliff!"

I grab him and pull him up close to my face. "You lie!" I hiss. Aragorn was not dead. He could not die! I knew him; he was just playing a joke on me… Then I snap back to reality. Aragorn would not play this sort of joke upon me. However I still refuse to believe he is dead unless I have proof. I return my attention back to the Orc; he just cackled again before I threw him down angrily and he died with one last choking breath; I held no sympathy. I was about to turn away when something in his hand glimmered and caught my eye. I leaned down and slowly opened his hand. My eyes closed briefly in a moment of anguish. In his hand I saw the Evenstar. I closed my eyes not believing it to be true. My hands began to shake more as I held the Evenstar. I knew Aragorn never parted from it.

My mind seems numb as I run over to the cliff and look over the edge into the raging waters below. It was a long drop, and highly doubtful anyone could survive the fall; especially if they were already wounded. This couldn't be happening. I refused to believe it was happening. I felt Gimli's presence beside me, but I paid no heed. All I could think about was the rushing waters below me, and the body floating in them that I would never see again. He was my brother and I feel as though my heart is literally breaking. I continue to stare in horror at the rushing rapids knowing he was long gone. I could do nothing for him anymore.

The King came over beside me. I hear him somewhere in the back of my mind as he says to someone, "Get the wounded on horses. The Wolves of Isengard will return." Then his last sentence catches my attention. "Leave the dead." I look at him in a mixture of anger and betrayal. I feel a dark numbness surround and overwhelm my heart. I know his last three words were aimed at me. I remember something my father once told me. 'Waste not fresh tears upon dead grief. Tears will not bring anyone back to life. They are merely a waste of time and energy.'

I am shaken from my thoughts as he puts a hand on my shoulder as though it is supposed to comfort me and gives me a look of sympathy. He doesn't understand; he couldn't understand. Aragorn was not only my best friend and companion at arms…he was my brother. I turn to him as he begins to speak. "Come," he says, as though I should follow his every word like a dog. I know that is not how he meant it when he said 'come' but my mind is too numb to think; too numb with sorrow. I do not look at him as he speaks, nor do I follow.

I continued to stare into the depths of the water below and eventually three of his guards come and drag me away. I do not put much of a fight into staying. I just slap their hands off me as we near the others and try to walk without stumbling. I hold my head tall, like my father tells me to do and my muscles tighten into a mask of indifference. Next I make sure my eyes hold no emotion, for my father always told me never to cry…to cry is to be weak; so I tell myself not to cry as I feel angry tears pricking at my eyes. I tell myself not to be weak. I tell myself not to "waste" fresh tears upon dead grief. Yet, I know my grief is not dead; my brother is. I do not fully understand at the moment, but I refuse to cry.

Gimli is already upon the horse looking down at me confused. Most likely confused at the lack of emotion I am showing. He knows we were very close, and yet I am sure I don't seem to even care that Aragorn is dead. His face clearly shows his sadness at the loss of Aragorn. I just avoid his gaze, trying to rid my head of my thoughts. My thoughts that tell me it is my fault that Aragorn is dead. Thoughts that spoke to me in little whispers saying I am a murderer…Thoughts telling me I am weak; a failure. I jump lightly atop my horse and realize my hands are still shaking as I caress his neck and whisper to him softly in my tongue. I just hope my hands are the only thing shaking, for I can hide that from Gimli.

What is left of us take leave for Helms Deep, and Arod follows the rest of the group. I do not bother to lead him, for he knows where to go, and he can sense my deep uneasiness. His movements are not nearly as graceful as they normally would be in his gait, and as I touch him again, a shudder passes through him. A second later the shudder seems to transfer to me as it passes through my body and I can do nothing to stop it. I feel Gimli's hand upon my shoulder and he says gruffly to me, "Lad?" I turn to him with a humorless smile, just thinking about the irony that he would call me lad when I know I am many millennia older than him. His face shows he is concerned so I quickly reply, "I am fine, Gimli. You need not worry." I hate how weak and pathetic my voice sounds.

The words come out mechanically and I do not even think about what I am saying, for I knew what I would say before Gimli asked. Everything still seems to be a blur and my mind is still numb from shock and sorrow.

We arrive at Helms Deep and I can see Lady Eowyn looking around us anxiously, searching for Aragorn. I would tell her, but I know if I speak again my voice would surely crack, for I am now only barely holding back the tears in my eyes. Yet I once again make my eyes devoid of any emotion and place my mask of indifference on again taking my place as the Elven Warrior. The perfect Elven Warrior who always happens to be around when you need him. Except, it seems, when my best friend needs me, and because of my failure…he is gone; forever.

/Forever is a very long time…/

Gimli dismounts with some difficulty as Lady Eowyn asks where Aragorn is. In my mind I reply, 'He is dead. You'll never see him again. Do you wish to know who to thank? Thank me. Thank me: his best friend; his guardian angel. The one who swore upon his life to protect him. The perfect Elven Warrior. The one who was not there when his best friend needed him most. Me…' The thoughts continue to fester in my mind until I am sure I have not any doubt that it is my fault that Estel is dead now.

I watch as Gimli steps up to her and she looks down, fear in her eyes. "My Lady," he says, and then stops as though he cannot continue. Eowyn stares at him, tears forming in her eyes, for she already knows what has come to be. "Lord Aragorn," she says slowly, softly, "Where is he?" She pronounces each word as though to make sure Gimli knows who she is speaking of.

"He fell."

The two words hit me like a cold, hard slap to my face and reverberate in my mind. 'He fell…he fell…he's dead. He's gone forever. Ai, Elbereth…'

Eowyn turns to me as though she, too, knows it is my fault, before I realize that that was my own mind saying it was my fault. I look away from her gaze, afraid that she might see through me. Instead she turns to Théoden, who also turns his head away, not wanting to see her sorrow. I look to her just in time to see a tear fall softly down her fair face. Her golden hair sways in the slight breeze and her grey eyes seem to pierce my heart like the silver thorns of rose.

I walk away, not wanting to see her hurt face and not wanting my resolve to break. Instead, I push my way through the crowds of women and children. Some were sobbing, and it was painfully obvious that one of their husband's or father's had died. I made my way through the clusters of people, trying not to hear the sobbing and trying to stop my own tears from falling. I felt like I couldn't breathe. Everywhere I turned there was either a person or a stone wall. I wished I could just free from all this endless suffering.

Nightmares are nothing more than reality put in terms your mind wishes to comprehend... Dreams can break. Dreams are nothing more than the chance for Death's caress upon the oblivious...

Finally I made my way to the top of the Deeping Wall and looked out upon the lands; breathing once more.

Finally it seemed my tears took control over me and they seem to have broken that dam that I have built over the years. They pour silently down my face as my throat tightens to hold back the sobs that threaten to pass through my lips. All that has happened upon this journey seemed to catch up with me now, and it seems I weep not only for my best friend, but also for Boromir; I weep, too, for the hobbits, Sam and Frodo, for I know they have the hardest task of all and it pains my heart to think they may die on the way, or even worse: be captured by servants of Sauron.

A single sob is torn from my throat, and I hate to think how weak I might sound. My hair flutters in front of my face as the breeze picks up. One of my braids comes undone, and I reach one, shaking, hand up to re-braid it again. However, my hand does not seem to respond to what I have told it to do, for I clumsily seem to only muss my hair further. Finally I give up, frustrated that I cannot even braid my hair. I look at my hands which are now shaking violently.

More sobs come after the first, and soon the cries come inevitably, broken only by sudden, sharp, gasps of air for my starving lungs. I close my eyes, knowing that elves don't cry, yet here I am, doing just that. Now my entire body shakes as I try to stop the sobs and the tears. I try to breathe steadily, but my lungs, like my hands, no longer seem to listen to me anymore as I begin to take short sudden gasps. I feel so numb, like I can't believe this is actually happening.

I open my eyes, peering through the darkness and at the stars as I try to calm myself. Then suddenly I realize what I already knew. It was dark. I realized that I should return, and I made to stand up. I made my way down the long stairs and found Gimli sitting on one of the steps, deep in thought while smoking his pipe. He noticed me and saw the tearstains upon my face. I tried to turn my face away so he could not see, but it was too late. "Lad?" he asked me softly. "Are you all right?"

My mouth opened, prepared to form the words: 'I'm fine'; but instead I said softly, "No, not this time…" I smiled sadly, refusing to show Gimli just how 'not fine' I was. Numbness had already overwhelmed me, and I no longer seemed to feel anything. Gimli looked at me, but did not seem to know what to say. I sat beside him, and we shared a simple moment of grief together. Neither of us said anything, though I know sorrow lay heavy on both of our hearts. If we are to truly go to battle, I'm not so sure I can make it. I still seem to be in denial that Estel is dead. Some part of me says he simply can not be, but the larger part says he is.

Finally, Gimli broke the silence, saying we should go in to rest. I hate to be confined in a stone prison, or so it is to me. I follow him silently as he shows me where I would sleep. I thank him, but it is a blur to me. I do not wish to go to sleep, for fear the nightmares might take me. Instead, I sit by the window sill, trying to make myself understand that he is gone. To make myself realize he is dead. I hoped the stars would comfort me as they had always done in my past, but they merely make me feel more alone in this world.

The night passes ever so slowly as I am left alone with my thoughts. The night seems dark as it has not been for a long time. I try to think, but I have no thoughts, and yet to think is all I do. I feel as though my life is spinning out of control, shattering into a thousand pieces, and I am too slow to catch the falling pieces. Finally, there is light on the horizon, and soon dawn comes. Bright light pours through the windows, but no light falls on me. I am cast into shadow, it seems cruel fate is meant to be. I wish that I could see the light, but darkness clouds my mind. Maybe life is only dark…or maybe I'm just blind.

/Light is light and dark is dark; it's not that hard to tell apart/

A loud knock comes at my door and I jump, slightly startled. I notice the sun is already high in the sky, and I wonder where the time had gone. First it went aggravatingly slow, and then I did not even realize the day had gone by. Lost in my thoughts, I forgot completely about the knocks until they came again, this time accompanied by a low voice. "Laddie?"

I quickly opened the door and saw Gimli standing there. I looked down at him as he finished, "The king would like us to be at a conference, I believe, about the upcoming battle."

I nodded, not really listening, but inside was screaming. And what about Aragorn? Will he continue on as thought nothing has happened? Without Estel, Rohan would already be taken over, and Théoden treats him as though he is a mere face in the crowd!

I followed the dwarf, my face impassive as I pass by the crowds of people. They look at me with obviousness curiousness, though I ignore the stares. I try to concentrate on what Gimli is saying, as I nod continuously, not even knowing why. When I realize his last remark was a question, I ask, "Hmm?"

He looks at me strangely as he repeats his question. "I said: did you get enough rest last night?"

I nodded, wishing it was true. I was tired; more tired than I would ever admit. The previous day's events had taken it toll on me, as well as the shock of Aragon dying. Yet, strangely enough, more than tired…more than anguished; I felt…empty. I felt numb in a way I hadn't known was possible. I seemed to be traveling in a trance. Everything seemed to be one big blur of pure nothingness…none of this seemed important anymore. The Uruk-hai would come, and they would kill anything living and that would be the end. There was no hope. It was likely to be a group of warriors around 300, at the most, against 10,000 Uruks, at the least. They could not win this fight…they were all going to die! And, for the first time in my life, I didn't care if I died or not.

I was shaken from my thoughts as we reached the room where the counsel would be held. Théoden was already there looking over a large parchment. As Gimli and I stepped into the room, Théoden looked up. As he saw us, he clasped my shoulder and said softly, "I am sorry about Aragorn. Thank you for coming…though Aragorn fell; we still have a chance to save Rohan."

I inclined my head, though my silent reply was, 'We are all going to die anyway.'

More men filed in, and a few minutes later, the conference began. I said nothing, but listened as an angry debate broke out between using Archers on the wall. Though I tried to focus, my thoughts soon drifted away to Aragorn once again. I had not seen Eowyn since the day before. Then I thought of Arwen. She would be heartbroken when she found out. I knew of the strong bonds of love that held them together. I knew that thought the choice was yet before her to leave these lands, and that she would choose to stay and become mortal with Aragorn, than faces all the ages of the world alone.

Just then, a man burst in, breathing heavily. "My Lord," he panted, trying to catch his breath. "A- army of Orcs…10,000 strong at least…they will be here…by nightfall."

There was a great clamor in the room as everyone began to panic. Théoden silenced them loudly and called the meeting to order. He began to give out orders for each person to do something. As everyone immediately left to do what they were assigned, only Gimli and I were left. Even Théoden had already left. Gimli followed the king and I followed silently behind, having nothing else to do. Théoden ordered every able bodied man and boy to be given weapons and gear and the women to be sent to the caves; something I am sure Eowyn won't be too happy about. I wished I could get my mind off of Aragorn; but no matter what I occupied myself with, I could not avert my heart to think of something else. Night fell as dark clouds rolled in. Soon thunder began to rumble in the distance. Lightning struck somewhere, lighting up the night briefly and giving us a glimpse of the horror to come.

I could hear chants in the distance of the Uruk-hai slowly marching. Rain began to fall, softly at first, before it began to pour down heavily. I wished Aragorn were here with us to fight away my fears. For the first time during the War, I felt icy fear grip my heart and I knew it was because Estel was not here. When the mid of night had finally come, the Uruk-hai were straight in front of the wall. I heard distantly someone yell orders to notch all arrows. I prepared to shoot, yet before they could utter the word 'fire' a lone arrow let loose and killed an Uruk. Chaos broke out. I shot arrow after arrow, until they were all gone. I did not think I would survive the night. I don't know how many times I had so narrowly escaped death. All my mind could think about was Aragorn; every Uruk I killed was for him.

Dawn finally came and the rain finally stopped. The clouds rolled away, leaving behind a clear sky. We had already retreated to the fortress, and were now trying to find a way to survive. Gimli suddenly said, "The sun is rising." I looked from the window as I remembered Gandalf's last words to us… 'Look to my coming at first light on the fifth day. At dawn look to the East.'

With sudden assertiveness, Gimli said loudly, "Ride out, Théoden King! Ride out!"

The desperate king suddenly seemed to be inspired as he said, "Yes. Yes! The horn of Helm Hammerhand shall sound in the Deep one last time."

"Yes!" Gimli cried as he climbed up to sound the horn. The rest of us were brought horses to ride. Arod trotted over to me and I climbed upon him. We rode out, viciously killing Orcs as the horn blew from above us. As we rode into the masses of Uruk-hai I was pushed off my horse. I hit the ground heavily, and attempted to stand back up. Arod reared as he was attacked and I was forced into close combat. I felt a searing pain on my arm, but I paid no attention to it. I brutally slashed at an Uruk who held his scimitar raised and he fell to the ground with a last choking breath.

Suddenly, a bright light shone and I gazed towards it. Gandalf sat there upon Shadowfax, and beside him was…Estel. Aragorn sat tall and proud upon his horse. Éomer rode behind him, and behind the Marshall was the Rohirrim. They rode down as one and jumped over the Uruk-hai who were shielding their eyes from the bright light that streamed down the steep hill. I couldn't believe my eyes. Suddenly, I felt another searing pain that brought me to my knees. An arrow stuck out from an odd angle from my shoulder. My own silver eyes locked with Aragorn's stormy grey ones as he saw me. I was struck from behind with a spear and I cried out, "ESTEL!" Hoping that somehow he might be able to save me. Now that I knew my best friend lived, I did care if I died. I did not want to die!


I dimly heard someone cry my name.

I was struck again and I fell to my knees. I weakly stood again, refusing to fall. I stumbled backwards, another arrow sticking out from my torso. I blindly slashed my knives viciously out, striking at any Uruk-hai who came near. I faltered as a thrust from a scimitar cut through a muscle. I stumbled, still attempting to fight. Suddenly I lost my balance as I fell to the ground. I struggled to stand, trying to force air into my lungs. I was struck again, only this time, I did not try to stand again. I waited for the pain that would come with the violent fall, and was surprised when I fell into a pair of arms.

I look up weakly and find I am in Aragorn's arms.

"Estel." I murmur, already losing consciousness. Black spots danced before my eyes.

"Shh," he said. "Save your rest."

"I'm glad I died for you…" I whisper before coughing. It hurt so much…Ai, so much pain.


I blink, barely staying conscious.

"Don't give up now! Listen to me, you HAVE to live!"

I could barely see, but I felt a drop of water hit my face and I knew it was his tears.

"Estel…" I say, taking in a shallow breath. I give one weak smile before a cold numbness overtakes my body, and I know my time has come. I take in one last breath in order to say just one more word…