Into Darkness My Moriquendi

2 - Numbing Resentment

Long fingers gently traced the Elvish Runes that were engraved on the lid of the marble stone coffin. Gimli was above ground. ’How ironic for a Dwarf.’ Legolas thought.

Legolas knelt on both knees, leaning up against it as he mindlessly traced the lettering and the smooth marble he had selected for his friend’s final resting place. He stopped his hand from caressing the inscription denoting who lay inside the tomb. The Elvish Runes said:

‘HERE LIES GIMLI ELF-FRIEND. DESCENDENT OF THE KINGS OF DURIN’S FOLK. A GREAT FRIEND AND WARRIOR. HE WILL BE FOREVER REMEMBERED.’

The elf’s arm relaxed, and fell to his side; the back of his hand lying carelessly on the ground that was covered with blades of grass that was soft. Legolas rested his head over the knuckles of his other hand which tightly grasped the side of the tomb. He closed his eyes for a moment; his mother behind him placing several different colored flowers over the other tombs of Sam, Frodo, and Bilbo, and along with Gimli’s tomb made a circle.

Mithrellas turned around to gaze down at her son, and sighed sorrowfully for Legolas‘ abiding grief. She took two steps over to him, placing a hand onto his shoulder to encourage his well-being; which had been crumbling downhill.

She knew that Gimli was his beloved friend that fact surprisingly changed Legolas’ thoughts on the Dwarven race. These thoughts were influenced by the other elves as a child, including Thranduil who also had a change of heart about them when he met Gimli following the victory of the free peoples of Middle-Earth.

“I have no reason to live,” Legolas whispered to her. “I feel nothing but envy for the friends I had made when I left on Ada’s request to go to Imladris to explain of that sad creature’s escape,” said her son,” It was a punishment because of my carelessness while watching Gollum, and then not finding him when he ran off.”

He paused, not looking up at her as he added, “Of course, it turned out well when I was selected to be in the Fellowship, and that had been an experience for me, mother.” Sighing as he remembered the enjoyments of going to place to place. “These places weren’t as gloomy and filled with spiders.”

“Your father was proud of you, and told me of your accomplishments after he arrived here to be with me,” replied the elleth with a smile.

“I am proud of my wonderful son as well.” She gracefully sat next to him after placing the rest of the flowers onto Gimli’s tomb, and then gently held his hand in hers.

“You have many reasons to live, Legolas. Your mortal friends would want you to live just as much as we do. It’s true, that we feel jealousy for the younger children of Arda to die; a gift from Eru that they may go beyond the boundaries of the world while we immortals are bound to its fate.”

Legolas lifted his head up, looking at her with distant eyes. “I have heard of this hundreds of times before when I was an Elfling…”He trailed off to change the subject. “…I was alone, even when Ada was around, and I missed you then; still do. Even now, I do not think I know you as much as I know my father. Is this a way for me to know you more, and for you to learn of me, mother?”

Mithrellas smiled warmly, touching his cheek affectionately. “Any place is a good place to get to know someone that you love; someone you have not seen for the longest time. Even within this passive garden where your friends are sleeping peacefully, and we can talk privately of whatever is on your mind.”

The prince lowered his eyes as he thought about what Frodo said to him, and innocently asked his mother, “What do you think of the meaning of death?” His mother gazed intently into his eyes as he continued, “Frodo told me that he felt happy to go, and said that I should be happy myself.“ He said. “How can I when I see another mortal friend leave me?” Legolas shook his head. “One may think differently about this subject, and maybe you do, but it is still most difficult for me to cope with Gimli being gone.”

She reached her hand up to the back of his neck, and moved him toward her so that his head was resting on her lap, and then began running her fingers through his hair. Legolas sighed, closing his eyes as he felt his mother‘s tender touch, and listened to her mild voice echoing into his sensitive earlobes.

“It is difficult for you because you are not letting yourself deal with their unfortunate demise,” said Mithrellas, “Or letting anyone here help you with your unspeakable troubles.” she went on,” Troubles that are hurting you physically and emotionally.” She moved his hair off of the side of his neck and shoulders while he lay comfortably on his side. “Everyone can see it.”

“I can see it…” Mithrellas added as an after thought.

His eyelids opened slightly, and he stared straight out in front of him. He parted his lips to say something, but not a word escaped from his mouth as they apparently became lodged in his throat, and he winced as if he were in a mysterious pain. His mother saw it, and leaned down closely, caressing his face with the back of her digits.

“My little leaf,” she whispered, “Look at me.” Legolas obeyed. He slowly twisted his neck to peer up at her, and she said to him, “At least allow yourself to heal.”

“I cannot,” Legolas murmured. He sat up with his back turned to her. “I do not feel love - I do not feel alive anymore - I do not feel anger or anything else, except for this inner turmoil of loss.” His blue eyes stared at the ground. “I have changed, and nothing could possibly help; not even you.”

“It’s too late, mother.”

“Legolas…” Now it was her turn to trail off. Mithrellas extended her arm to him, the tips of her fingers barely touched the back of his silver tunic as he replied.

“Leave, nana,”

“What?” She demanded, surprised. “Leave?”

“Yes, leave me,” Legolas whispered under his breath. “I want to be alone…now.”

Mithrellas withdrew her arm, putting her hand in the middle of her chest.

‘I thought I was close, but I thought wrong.’ The elf thought sadly. For the first time in this conversation, she was lost for words, at least assuring or hopeful words to help him.

‘I was too naïve to believe that I could rescue him from his agony.’ She bowed her head, her long hair cascading from the resting places behind her pointed ears, and after an awkward silence, the elf stood and looked at him again.

“Why are you still here?” Legolas demanded. He did not want her to see him like this. ’Was a mistake of asking her to come with me?’ He questioned.

“I will leave you, my son,” answered the lady. “This was a good conversation at the least.” She turned and quickly departed from the garden, leaving him.

Legolas turned around, sadly watching her go. He tried to speak again, but nothing came out. ’I did not mean to, mother.’

‘I am sorry.’ He thought. The exact phrase was what he wanted to tell her out loud. Looking away, he stared with a distant look, and sighed inwardly. ’I do not want to be alone.’

“I am sorry…” He murmured, gradually standing up. Legolas stood motionlessly with his head tilted back to look at the blue canvas of the sky above him. It was bright, unlike his soul.

“Oh, Elbereth! I have forsaken everyone, including my mother and father.” Silence filled the air around him, and he stood there for a long time before starting to leave the garden where his friends slept peacefully, but gradually stopped to look back at the garden that surrounded the tombs. The flowers needed someone’s attention, and he walked over to a fountain to fill up a pitcher he spotted laying beside it. Once he filled the container up with the water, he walked to the flowers and started to gently pour the liquid onto the soil, idly watching the water soak into the ground.