Coming Home

Coming Home, Chapter 7

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“Legolas?”



“Yes?” Calm, cool, and utterly without sign of distress. Legolas was absurdly proud of himself. It was a skill he had perfected in the last week. He’d begun to throw up almost constantly, and stopped eating altogether. Even Arwen had stopped nagging, and just looked... sad.



“Are you going to let me in.”



“Give me a moment,” Legolas called, forcing himself back to his feet. Valar he was tired. It would be so easy just to lie down and never get up again. It had been so easy to accept help from Aragorn and even Arwen those first couple of nights. He’d been so ecstatic to see them, to have made it. Up to that point that had been his goal, and he had not thought beyond his arrival in Gondor except on the most basic of levels. Once he’d reached Aragorn reality had begun to set in and he had responded--poorly.



When Legolas pulled the heavy door open he over balanced and would have fallen had strong arms not caught and held him. He would have been embarrassed had he the energy. Aragorn steadied him carefully, and released him slowly, making sure he was on his feet.



“Cat like grace hm?” Aragorn teased gently.



Without questioning the impulse Legolas rested his forehead against Aragorn’s shoulder and just rested there, leaning against the human, silently. Aragorn stroked his hair and held him with an arm wrapped loosely around his waist.



Legolas nuzzled into Aragorn’s neck, and shifted slightly. Aragorn understood what he was trying to do and picked him up and carried him to the bed where he lay down with Legolas, pulling him as close as possible, and held him, rather tentatively.



Legolas didn’t look up when he muttered, “I’m not actually going to break you know.”



“Mmhm,” Aragorn said, speaking softly and into his hair, “I know.” He responded to implied, but unspoken request and tightened his arms down, holding Legolas in a nearly suffocating embrace. If felt good. Inside the gentle restraint he was able to let go of his own rigid control, at least a bit.



When he began to shake, a hand pushed up into his hair, a thumb drawing lazy circles on the side of his throat and he began, finally, to cry. Quietly and with out drama, tears simply dropping to be soaked into Aragorn’s shirt. He did not want to leave... He did not want to leave Aragorn’s arms, certainly so permanently.



“I will always love you, Legolas. Never doubt that,” Aragorn said quietly, his voice wavering in a totally a typical fashion. Legolas was surprised to realize Aragorn was crying as well, when he felt tears falling softly onto his hair.



Legolas sighed, and pushed himself closer to the warmth radiating from the human. This was so ridiculously ironic, that had he thergy rgy he would have found it almost funny.



He was still crying silently, when he slipped from wakefulness into reverie.



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Aragorn looked up when he heard the door open, but didn’t loosen his grip on the elf in his arms. Any slight relaxation in the arms around him and, even asleep, Legolas would shake with enough force to rattle both their teeth. He was the only thing keeping Legolas from shaking himself apart.



Arwen looked at him, and circled the bed silently, to sit behind Legolas. “How is he?” She asked quietly, not really needing the answer.



Aragorn demonstrated by unlocking the muscles in his arms . Legolas whimpered, shifted, and almost immediately began to tremble uncontrollably. Aragorn pulled Legolas toward him again and held him as hard as he could without suffocating him, and he settled again with a soft sigh.



“He’s not going to last much longer,” Aragorn said finally.



“I know.” Arwen replied softly, settling herself to lay on her side behind Legolas. Propped up on one elbow she looked at her husband, and then came up behind Legolas, Wrapping her arm over him and holding on by fisting her hand into the soft fabric of her husband’s tunic.



After a moment of confusion, Aragorn understood what she was doing and rested his hand on her back, and draped one leg over Legolas and slightly across her ankles. Aragorn was finally able to release some of the strain in his arms from holding Legolas so tightly for so long.



In response to the warmth and closeness of two bodies surrounded him, Legolas sighed softly and relaxed, going utterly limp between then. Arwen smiled sadly over his head at Aragorn. “He’s exhausted.”



“I know. He hasn’t slept at all at all for days, but he’s so damn stubborn...”



“He is stubborn, but he’s also terrible afraid Estel. He’s in pain and his body is betraying him. He’s holding onto control the only way he can; by trying to maintain his independence as long as he can.”



“I know. I just wish he’d let us, let me, help.”



“I’m afraid he no longer has a choice,” Arwen said, moving her hand to pull the fine golden hair out of Legolas’s face, “He loves you so much Estel. He’s afraid that you’re only memory of him is going to be of this past month. That you’ll forget the person he was, the person he still is. That all you will remember is illness, and pain and death. He doesn’t want to loose himself, and it’s making it extremely hard for him to let go, to accept.”



Aragorn stared at her for several moments, the words sinking in.



“I have to go back to Elendi,” Arwen said, and waited for Aragorn to take charge of Legolas, shifting gradually and letting Aragorn’s arms come to entirely enfold the slight frame.



When she was at the door, she turned back. “He needs to know you love him, and he needs to believe in you. He needs your guidance now. He has followed you into war, and he has fought for you. Now he needs to be able to let go for you.”



“I don’t want to let him go,” Aragorn said, unconsciously tightening down on the elf until Legolas squeaked in sleepy protest.



“I know..., I don’t particularly wish to loose him either, Estel. Unfortunately we have no choice.”