The Flow of Shared Grief

By: WhiteGloves


Elrond knew Estel would die.

But he never expected it would be too soon.

No, not like this- he will not die so young!

His heart was screaming at him.

But he knew it was hopeless. His healer instincts told him so as he watched his youngest son's labored breaths, his weakening pulse and the blood gushing out of his mouth every time he coughs. The ranger's body was shivering uncontrollably and not even the heat from the fireplace could thwart it. The Elf lord has to admit that he was terrified of the fact that his son would stop breathing any moment. And there was nothing more he can do this time around but to painfully wait for Illüvatar's miracle.

The twins behind the Elf Lord were crying silently as they watch their brother suffer. They were used of having the young man sick in their footsteps but never had they seen him as bad as this. What was scary was it could get worse.

The Mirkwood Prince was behind them watching the scene with frightened eyes. He could not understand why he was feeling suddenly weak. He was supposed to be Mirkwood's strongest warrior but right now he could only feel weakness over taking him.

Why Estel? Why do you have to suffer from things we could not? The Prince thought angrily, tears filling his eyes. Please mellon nín! Do not leave me away! I do no want to be left behind- not by you! This will not be fair Estel!


Legolas' eyes shot open as he looked beside him. The room was dark and only the fireplace illuminated the room. Half the room should have been dark but as Legolas watched his right side, there was no mistaking what was there. Standing before him was a translucent figure. Whatever it was Legolas knew it or rather 'who' it was and it crushed the remaining hope inside his heart.

"ESTEL!" a cry broke out in the room and Elladan and Elrohir rushed beside their father.

Dangerous cry of despair and grief filled the air. It was something so shameful to hear; Elves are suppose to be light and blissful creatures and witnessing them like this, in despair and grief, will tear you apart. The hand of the ranger we knew well as Estel hanged limply on the edge of the bed.


The world became suddenly dark.

Legolas knew he had stopped breathing. He could not move. The idea that he actually lost his best friend seemed unreal. He was having a hard time grasping it. No, his friend would not leave him.

But what of this apparition? This figure he knew to be the friend he loved with his heart? Having it beside him made him even more miserable. He can sense the grief of the translucent figure beside him. He could feel its sorrow. Estel's sorrow.

Forgive me.

Legolas regretted hearing those words and his knees gave up below him.

A terrible sound pressed out of his lips. A groan like cry that can weaken even the Valar. It was the sound of grief and misery that cannot be expressed by merely shedding of tears. It was more than pain.

It was a dying sound of a heart.


Legolas' heart was screaming.

He wanted to run near his pale friend who's hand was hanging still on the bed, want to comfort him and to protect him from the cold… Even from death itself.

But his body wouldn't let him.

And not even his mind.

The warmth he could feel from the soul almost next to him was a great deal. It was a friendly presence but it was down.


Legolas found himself staring at the translucent figure with desperation.


His own heart was screaming. He would give anything to have his friend back. Anything…

"Comeback! LEGOLAS!"

Legolas shot his head up toward the translucent figure. He then realized that only his heart was screaming but the voice didn't belong to him.

The voice was coming from a far away distant…


And slowly the translucent figure began to glow, its light spreading through out the room into a dazzling light bringing the elf back to his consciousness.