Chapter Text
In helms deep
The sentry that was stood at the ramparts spotted a lone rider mounted upon a horse riding through the dew-laden grass covered rolling hills, approaching the keep. The sun shone from behind the rider concealing his face from the fair-haired Rohirrm
The rider was allowed entry by the guards. The people gathered around to glimpse at the newcomer, for it was Lord Aragorn, a man they had given up for being dead. “‘Tis a miracle”, whispered one, “Nay it was a sign from the Gods”, whispered another. It was the general consensus among the people when a short figure barreling through the crowd bellowing, “Where is he? Where is he, I am going to kill him.”
“You are the luckiest, uncanniest, and the most reckless man I ever knew.”, berated the dwarf and then he hugged Aragorn. “Bless you laddie.” The strong voice of the dwarf dwindled into a mere whisper, as he was overcome with emotions and relief, not only for the friend in front of him but also the one in the tower behind.
“Gimli, where is the King?”, asked the battered man for he had seen a great army of uruks marching on Helm’s deep and weighed heavily on his mind.
“You may visit the king Aragorn but first come with me.” And having stated that the dwarf dragged him to one of the castles towers. “Gimli what-?” but the Adan had no time to protest before they were upon the crumpled form of their fair companion on the floor.
Estel quickly crouched near his friend and look over the elf. “How long has he been like this?”
“Since we came here. He was coherent enough to write a letter to your family relaying your death. King Theoden had it sent. But now I see that it was an ill-advised decision.” Answered Gimli
But Estel had no time to contemplate the last piece of information, for his companion was fading before his eyes, and had been for three days. Estel feared that he had come too late. But he had not- could not give up hope.
“Legolas, Legolas awaken. Look I have come. Meleth nìn open your beautiful eyes, I fain to gaze into them.” Said Estel, as he shook his elf. He could feel his fëa, though, it was tethered by a thread. He poured his remaining strength into Legolas, opening the connection between their minds. He could feel Legolas’s mind besieged by cold. He tried to call upon him and his efforts were rewarded when the cerulean eyes open.
“Am I dead already?” asked already, his eyes never leaving Estel’s.
“No. You are not, neither am I.” spoke Estel softly, his face barely a breath away from Legolas’s. “I survived the fall ‘Las nin. I did not die. And neither will you. I have you.”
“But, but you fell. I felt could no longer feel your mind in mine.” Said Legolas, tears of anguish falling from his eyes, both on the mind numbing pain he had felt when he thought Estel had died and the knowledge that he had abandoned his mate for dead.
Estel embraced his beloved to offer what comfort he could to make the pain and guilt that shrouded his lover go away. But he knew that such hurts cannot be healed in a moment.
Legolas finally accepted that Estel was truly alive and was no figment of his imagination and he leaped onto Estel holding for dear life and sobbing into his shoulder telling how lonely he had felt. The pain of grief and finally peace and relief as he found himself fading. Then how it had not been fast enough and he had tried to speed it up by own hand.
When Legolas admitted to have slashed his hand with the intent to die, Estel felt his eyes own eyes tear up and his hands shake as he reached down to examine the archers hand. He found new gashes that were too deep for comfort, yet not deep enough to be life threatening, among the old scars. He tightened his hold on Legolas and rocked him.
They stayed like that till Legolas’s tears had been exhausted and that was how Lady Eowyn had found them later- Aragorn rocking Legolas, while the latter straddled the former.