Part Four
Aragorn started at the abrupt question. Usually the man and elf hunted in companionable silence. He did not immediately know what his friend needed to hear, so he spoke plainly, "It is a fairytale, Legolas, nothing more."
"And yesterday you healed a mortally wounded man with your bare hands, no leaves, no potions. Even the elves speak of it, they say it is the heritage of the Kings of Gondor, for your first ancestor was born an elf and died a man," Legolas said earnestly. He had clearly given the matter some thought.
The king said nothing, waiting for his friend to continue. Although there was no signal, both men stopped walking and stared out into the forest before them.
"Gimli grows old, Aragorn," the delicate elf said softly. That one sentence said so much, for suddenly the invulnerable warrior became nothing more than a desperate lover knowing he would soon lose the light in his life. Death was an enemy that not even the blade and bow of Legolas Greenleaf could vanquish.
"I know I have no right to ask this of you. But if it is true that there is a death realm for mortals, and if Gimli were to meet you there some dayŠplease promise me that you will come for me in Valinor, Aragorn."
Lightning tore open the moonless night, and the wind screamed.
The water, black as blood on a battlefield at midnight, rose like great walls, and the ship heaved in the water like a maddened war horse.
The former king was soaked to the skin, and even he, a Ranger, shivered. The water was colder than ice, and stung like a sword cut where it splashed on to his exposed face and hands.
"Get back below decks, man. This is no weather for a land-dweller! We'll not stop if you get pitched overboard!"
The shout from a harried shipmate caught Aragorn's attention.
Boromir, however, was not a man easily deterred. He struggled to reach his lover, twice he fell, and Aragorn almost left his post to go help him before the waves washing mercilessly over the deck claimed him, but each time he sprang stubbornly and quickly back on to his feet.
"Come with me below deck, Aragorn!" the man bellowed. "You have been standing here for two hours, Elros must be mistaken; we can't be near Valinor!"
Aragorn had serious doubts if there was any way they could actually sail to Valinor, but a small voice in his heart kept him from asking Elros to turn the ship around.
"Come for me in Valinor, Aragorn" the voice whispered, and maybe it was his imagination, but it seemed the voice grew louder the longer they stayed out at sea.
Legolas had saved his life countless times, and had only ever asked this one thing of him.
He had to try.
Elros and Gimli had arrived at Boromir's lands six months ago, only a fortnight after the new lovers had found each other. They believed that fate had a hand in having the dwarf awaken in the death realm of men and mortals at the ship dock where the twin of Elrond, and first in the human line that came to include the kings of Gondor, had just arrived. He spent all his time at sea, coming back to shore only to trade so that he could return to his wide, blue "homeland."
But the seasoned shipmates who travelled with the great sailor whispered among themselves that Elros spent so much time at sea because he was mapping out the route to Valinor, the eternal homeland of the elves, for the great love of his life lived there, and he had sworn he would go back for her.
Gimli had awoken with what he thought was an all too familiar face peering curiously down at him, and assumed that Lord Elrond had brought his old, tired body back from the brink of death yet again. So he had thanked the great healer in awkward elfish, causing Elros to befriend him on the spot.
It was definitely destiny that decreed they run into Éomer immediately upon entering the market town to trade for goods. He had shared with them the very welcome news that Aragorn, Isildur's Heir, was with them again. According to legend, a quest as dangerous as the sea journey to Valinor would have much better chances of success if not one, but two kings of the blood were on board.
Boromir's teeth were chattering hard, but he bore it stoically, determined not to seek shelter in the dry compartments below until Aragorn agreed to return with him.
"Man overboard! Man overboard!"
Aragorn and Boromir stared out into the black water at the sudden cry, but unused to the ever changing landscape of the night sea, they could not make out anything so tiny as a head in the roiling black walls that rose higher than castle towers before the struggling ship.
A rope was thrown out and the movement guided the men's line of sight to a tiny spot of gold shining in the deep, dark water.
It disappeared as the waves heaved, and then bobbed again to the surface.
"Great Gondor! No man can stay afloat in such seas!" Boromir exclaimed.
"An elf! It must be! Only elf hair would glow so brightly where there is no light," Aragorn said, not daring to believe himself.
Lightning branched fiercely across the sky at that very moment, and thunder rumbled. The seas rose higher and the wind became a deafening, keening wail.
The tiny blonde dot disappeared, and did not bob again to the surface.
The voice in the man's heart stopped whispering suddenly, and the silence was an even more moving plea.
All at once, Aragorn knew what he had to do.
Grabbing one of the lines coiled at his feet, used in emergencies when someone fell overboard, Aragorn tied it around his waist.
"Wha-What are you doing?!" Boromir asked in horror.
"Pull us back, Boromir, I'm counting on you," Aragorn said...
ŠAnd jumped into the wild, churning wall of black water.
His blood almost froze in their veins when he hit the water, and the breath was torn from his body in a cry of unholy pain. For long moments he was blinded and deafened by the water, and he panicked.
But then the rope tightened around his waist, threatening to tear him in two even as it assured him of safety, and he thought of the man at the other end, who was willing his return, and he thought of his friend out there, losing a titanic struggle against the terrible seas, and his powerful limbs came to life.
He kicked fiercely to the surface, and looked around. Rain blinded him, and all he saw was mountains of inky water, rising and falling with sickening rapidity around him. Ghostly shapes seemed to form on the surface of the water, mocking his efforts.
"Legolas!" he screamed.
And then louder, "Legolas!"
Against the wild wind and whipping waves he kept calling, not knowing nor caring from where his lungs found air.
He was Aragorn, Isildur's Heir and the King Returned, and it would take more than an angry sea and the wrathful rain to make him die this dark night.
The next wave dragged him under, but then something collided into him with brutal force, and together, they were swept towards the surface as one.
The pale, elf features were set in a grim expression of pain and relief, and Aragorn realised that Haldir of Lorien had been swimming one-handed against the rage of the sea, for in his other arm he held Legolas, still and icy and cold.
The man wrapped his arms around the shivering elf, and felt the tug as they were dragged back to safety.
It seemed an eternity before the ship came back into sight.
The rope ladder was dropped, but it whacked harshly against the side of the heaving ship, flinging the freezing trio mercilessly against the timbre as they clung to the lifeline.
"Pull harder! Pull! Pull!" Boromir roared over the thunder. Aragorn, almost senseless with cold, realised that it had been a battle for these men too, hauling rope in the rain and being hammered by waves sweeping across the deck. He smelled blood as they were finally hauled over railings onto the deck, and saw that Boromir had cut his hands almost in two pulling them to safety.
Haldir laid Legolas gently down and then vomited unceremoniously on to the deck. The crewman watched in sympathy and horror as the elf emptied his stomach. He had swallowed enough water to drown three hardy seafaring men.
They stared too at the ugly welt, knotted and red with scar tissue that ran down the slightly deformed back, visible through the soaked light linen tunic.
The elf startled and cringed when a warm fur was laid on his shoulders, and a soft cloth dabbed at his mouth. The action was so gentle that for a moment the veteran warrior stopped feeling the stinging rain and the water rushing about his legs on the battered deck.
Haldir had never seen this man before, but the noble-featured brunette was looking at him with a mixture of tenderness, shyness andŠdesire. The elf turned away quickly, convinced his eyes played tricks on him, and grossly ashamed at his own misshapen form, which had drawn so much disgust from the perfect beings who peopled Valinor.
Aragorn was breathless with retching and thankful for Boromir's strong stomach as he lost his last meal. Arwen would likely have turned pale at his sickening display of human weakness. The Man of Gondor held him tight, not only out of tender affection, but to keep him safe on the bucking ship, and did not bat an eyelid at the revolting mess that was soon swept out to sea.
Aragorn was still shaking when he stood with a grunt and leaned heavily on his lover, who was urging him below deck. The dark haired man turned to make sure that Haldir was being seen to, was delighted to see Éomer seizing an opportunity to introduce himself, and then smiled at the funny sight of a dwarf carrying an unconscious, lanky elf down into the hold of the ship.
He turned at a sudden commotion at the front of the deck.
"The Captain's found her! He's found her! Look, he's brought her back!"
Elros flung himself over the railing with a half elf's agility, and extended his hand to the person climbing up the rope ladder unassisted behind him. The Captain was soaked to the skin and shaking like a leaf in a snowstorm, but a joy lit his face and energised his limbs to nimbleness.
His loving hand was hit away with a force that hinted at anger more than playfulness, and both men gaped in surprise as the long haired elf in elegant robes climbed on to deck.
It was no woman, and as the crew murmured in amazement, Elrond, Lord of Rivendell, looked out over the dark water towards the homeland he could no longer seeŠand wept.
"Legolas has been very ill, he hasn't eaten since Gimli died a month ago, and he was so weak by the time we had the summer festival at the cliffsŠhe saw the shadow of the ship long before we did and he ran right over to the edge, like he would dive off and swim for it.
"Honestly, he was mad, and you looked more like a ghost shipŠnobody can sail in seas like those to the North of Valinor's cliffs. Or so we thought.
"I ran after him, and caught him, and Lord Elrond raced over to try and help me. Thranduil was running forward too, but that area is notoriously unstable and he had to stay well in the back with his s-with the children because he is a king," Haldir caught himself.
Boromir saw Aragorn grimace, and felt hurt for his lover and for himself. He must still love her if news of a child with her second husband upsets him so even now, the man thought, quelling the anger and pain welling in his own heart.
"The cliff crumbled, we were all thrown into the seaŠwe struggled in the water a long time, and then we lost sight of land and of Elrond. Legolas started swimming for the ship, he said he heard you calling, Aragorn, and that you'd come for him. We were swimming against rain swept sea for hours, and he passed out, I think.
"I held on to him, and kept trying to reach the ship, but it was too far, and I'm not asŠstrong as I once was. What a relief it was to me when I heard your voice, more welcome than the horns of reinforcements at a battle almost lost, and the next big wave literally landed me on top of you. It was fate," Haldir smiled warmly.
"A month ago? Time moves differently for us. It has been six months we have been at sea, and only two weeks before that that Aragorn passed into the death realm of mortals," Boromir said.
"How strangely the timeline shifts. It has been some hundred human Middle Earth years since Aragorn was laid to rest. We must truly be thankful that it was just a month since Gimli's dying for us, or Legolas would not have had the strength to make it as far as he did," Haldir closed his eyes and shuddered, remembering his recent ordeal at sea.
Then the blonde brightened perceptibly, an amusing picture popping into his head, banishing the rain and wind and murderous waters, "He's with Elrond and Gimli now, and last I saw the dwarf was spoon feeding him soup and treating him with more tenderness than we afford new born babes. I'm sure he can't be as sick as all that for he is awake and very alert, but I think he enjoys the attention."
Aragorn grinned. Haldir had clearly developed a fondness for Gimli, and the man approved heartily. However, he soon addressed a matter that had been troubling him for some time. "Is Elrond all right? He seemedŠsad when he came on board."
The warrior elf considered before giving an answer. "His marriage to Celebrian was severed shortly after we made the crossing. He had known it was over all those years ago when she went across the sea without him, but I think it still hurt him very badly when she made the separation formal. His children have their own lives, so I think he was lonely in Valinor.
"It was only when Gimli started getting feeble a decade ago that the three of us moved in with him the prince was kind enough to take me in after his people arrived," here the elf paused, and his eyes went blank with a terrible pain that seared Aragorn's soul for long moments, before he shook himself with characteristic pride and strength to continue his tale, "So it was no surprise that it was Elrond who rushed to our aid, we are his closest companions now. And I wonder if part of him longed for his twin, or to see you again? He spoke of you so often, Aragorn, it was "Estel used toŠ," and "This is Estel's favouriteŠ," and "When Estel was youngŠ" for ten years!" Haldir smiled.
Aragorn noted to himself that Haldir had not seen Elrond's tears when he tried to see his homeland beyond the water, the elf would have been much more concerned if he had. But that was something the man would have to take up with his foster father himself, in calmer times. So he just chortled and said, "I never knew he was that fond of me."
"Wait a minute, Haldir, pardon my intrusion, but what do you mean that Legolas was kind enough to take you in? Didn't you have a lord? Why didn't he provide you with lands and a home to retire to after the war?" Boromir asked.
He himself had been a very responsible Captain beloved of his men in life, and regarded with high esteem by all who served him in this realm. No man or his family under the renowned warrior's command ever went hungry, even if he was crippled or aged, and the granaries were empty and orcs pressed on the borders. Gondor's truest son always took care of his people, and was scandalised at the former March Warden's treatment at the hands of his lord after a long life of service.
"Celeborn the Arse can rot with the rest of his high-and-mighty people," Gimli boomed, chortling as he entered the room. He was the only one who did not have to duck beneath the low door beams.
Haldir breathed a sigh of relief.
He still could not bring himself to speak of his years living as an unwanted beggar being shuttled between the modest homes of warriors who had once served under him. There was no employment for him in Lorien; he was too slow for hunting or war and too ugly for peacetime pleasure. Even his hosts could not hide their disgust at his misshapen form, and many had believed he should walk into the water during a storm and spare his people the burden of having to look at him.
He had tried to appeal to Celeborn, whom he had served as both March Warden and favoured lover for centuries, but had been ejected from the palace by the new favourite, who ultimately robbed him of both his previous posts without being at all qualified for either.
It was lucky that Haldir was an uncommonly iron willed and intelligent elf, and he had refused to choose suicide after the fates had spared him during the battle that had killed his brothers and so many of his most loyal warriors.
Elrond had tried to persuade him to come and stay at New Rivendell, but the half-elf's lands were bursting with elves from Lorien, and Haldir could not have borne their smirks and whispers.
The arrival of Legolas's people had saved him. He had felt safe for the first time in what seemed like centuries with the simple Wood Elves, for they had lived long among men and grown used to seeing war veterans with distorted forms far more unsightly than Haldir's slightly twisted back and limping gait. Also, he discovered to his surprise, he was a legendary war hero in Gondor and Rohan. Many of the tiny elflings crowded on the big ship, the sweetest of all the post-war fruits, had learned Westron by singing songs about him Aragorn and Legolas had made sure of that.
"I pity Galadriel for being bound to such a creature, I'm sure she has had to act against her own natural kindness and good judgement to save his useless hide on countless occasions. Aragorn, since I know you suspect the truth of Haldir's fate after the war, you will be pleased to hear that Celeborn got his retribution for being such a wretched lord. During a Spring feast some years ago, when he was "making up" with the March Warden—who, I might add, cannot hope to hold a candle to you, Haldir—after a highly public dalliance with a younger, blonder warrior, the fellow bit his sex clean off in an unfortunate "accident" due to his "excitement" at enjoying the Lord's attentions after such a protracted hiatus. Elves have powers of regeneration, but Elrond said that it will be centuries before he ever visits his perversions on to another warrior!" Gimli said with uncharacteristic glee.
"Don't be unkind, Gimli, it was a very evil incident," Haldir protested mildly. He had loved his unfaithful lord most steadfastly for centuries, and some of this tender feeling remained even after he was cast from Celeborn's bed due to his ugly wounds from Helm's Deep. However, he could not really be angry at the dwarf whom he considered a close friend now.
The plain-speaking warrior had reason to dislike those people, for Lorien had tried to thwart the wedding of Thranduil and Arwen. The former Queen of Gondor had tried in her gentle way to win over her mother and grandparents to supporting the love match, but there had been terrible words said about Legolas and his lineage that Gimli could not forgive even Galadriel whom he had once held in the highest esteem. Celeborn in particular he learned to loathe, for the elf lord was guilty of the twin crimes of insulting Legolas and abandoning Haldir.
Aragorn was tactful enough not to show his approval at this news. He may have been a wise and gentle man, but he was also a just one, and such a punishment seemed astonishingly apt. "Well, all that unpleasantness is behind us. Elros popped in a while ago to say that we are nearing the end of these waters between realms and soon will be on familiar seas. That means we'll all be home in five months, as the winds are with us."
"Well, nice visit, sorry it is so brief, but my sweet elf needs me. You should rest too Aragorn, you look paler than a baby elf's bottom," the cheeky dwarf said.
"The saying, dwarf, is paler than a new leaf," Haldir corrected, raising an eyebrow in disapproval.
"A baby elf's bottom is paler, as is an adult one," was the response as Gimli waved and left. It pleased him greatly to be able to care for Legolas; it was rare indeed that the invulnerable elf ever needed pampering.
"He is still incorrigible, that is good to know," Aragorn said affectionately, rising to his feet gingerly. "We should all get some rest."
And then, with a suddenness that Haldir recalled from when the great king had been a short, fat child with bad hair, he startled the elf with a bear hug.
It always made Haldir smile.
"Damn it! I knew I should have paid more attention to chivalric love verse!"
Haldir froze, only a step away from popping his head out to hail the man pacing vigorously on the deck. The rain had stopped and the seas had settled, and the hellish scene that took place merely hours before seemed only to be a fleeting nightmare save the soreness in his muscles. Now, the ship sliced smoothly and almost silently through water that flew past like the folds upon a silken blanket coloured soft silver by moonlight.
"I can't remember a single poem! Ah, I wish Aragorn or Boromir were awake that they might aid me," the man grumbled.
The few seamen busy on deck ignored the man's mutterings for it was well known among sailors that landlubbers sometimes lost their minds out at sea, and as long as he did not endanger himself or the ship, they let him wander and babble as he wished.
Éomer could not sleep for the pounding of his heart. Haldir of Lorien was here! The former King of Rohan, who had seized victory on so many battlefields, had never been so terrified in all his years, both alive and dead.
But at the same time he had never felt so acutely alive: his joy had never been so sweet, his thoughts had never been so wild, his anxious heartbeat had never been so fierce, his hopes had never been so strong.
He was a man mad with the closeness of love and wild for passion's embrace but he did not know it fully yet. For Éomer, who had commanded the devotion of so many friends, the regard of so many subjects and the loyalty of so many lords, had never known the kind of love that bursts open at the core of a man's very being, cannot be denied even with a thousand efforts and forever changes the essence of who he is.
Boromir could have told him how Aragorn's words to him as he lay dying had made all the terrible struggles in his life suddenly worthwhile and full of meaning. How no wealth or sunrise or victory or glory could compare to that one moment of pure bliss when he saw Aragorn bathing in the river, after so many years of longing and searching, and knew that they would be together at last.
Faramir could have told him about how time stood still when Eowyn first turned to him and spoke, how he would have gladly sacrificed all his years of life, all that he owned and all that he was, if the fates demanded that as the price of spending just one day as her husband.
Legolas could have told him that although he had lived for centuries, he had never been alive until the day he saw himself through Gimli's eyes. At that moment, he had known beyond learning or unlearning that should the day ever come when he could not wield sword and bow, and his were limbs misshapen and his beauty marred, he would still be the best the whole world had to offer to one noble, strong, true heart. And it was this, more so than even his bold nature, confidence in his skills and loyalty to his friends, which gave him the courage to fight and the reason to truly live.
But no words could have prepared Éomer for the enormity of feeling a love like this.
In this unsettling and exhilarating moment, he fell back on his tried and tested good luck charm and source of inspiration. The handsome man pulled his precious locket from beneath his tunic, and tenderly gazed at the hair coiled within.
"Such exquisite hair, as if a god had taken sunlight on a summer's day and woven it with fine gold and all the shining, glowing colours of love just to shape you. And yet, your beauty is surpassed by your fellows that frame the countenance of my beloved!" Éomer spoke with wonder.
"What shall I say to Haldir of Lorien? Shall I let him know how he has been the thread through all my dreams and hopes and desires for years past counting? Shall I speak to him of how his courageous sacrifice in the name of friendship in such a cruelly desperate time inspired me to be better than I was; not only a better king, but a better friend, a better person? Shall I tell him of how often I have spoken to him about all that was important and all that was not in my mind, whenever I was troubled, or sad, or happy, or turbulent, or quiet in spirit?
"Ah, Haldir! Your presence here has made my soul sing, and there was never music in me before.
"Dare I reach for the sun? He who is the healing light and loving warmth and so much more in my small world? I fear I may be burned, and yet if he is as kind as Aragorn says he is, how can I pass up the chance to have summer live forever in my spirit?" Éomer gazed warmly at the hairs, and then shut the locket tenderly.
He gazed out at the sea, still hoping for inspiration, unaware that the elf, hidden on the stairwell that linked the deck to the compartments below, had heard all of his words.
A soft blush was creeping across the sky, and the silk-like surface of the calm sea was tenderly caressed by the warm hues of red, orange and yellow.
"Hallo, Haldir, I need some air! Are you coming down or going up? Join me for some breakfast on deck won't you?" Aragorn called behind him warmly.
The elf started and tightened his hold on the soft fur about his shoulders, which he had been intending to return to Éomer. He had been so enraptured by the unbelievable words of the fine man on the deck that he had failed to notice the Ranger's arrival.
"I'm, uh, just going to return this to him," Haldir stammered out, rushing up on to deck.
Aragorn grinned, and purposely lingered in the stairwell, careful to give the two a chance to talk.
Éomer was a bright red, not from the playfully warm sun, but from utter embarrassment. Haldir must have heard his silly ramblings, elf ears missed nothing! The man cursed his tendency to think aloud, fearing the mischief that would transpire as a result.
The blonde elf, still elegant and beautiful despite his limp, reached out the fur to him and smiled, suddenly feeling all of 45 and awkward again despite his advanced years.
With his hair blowing in the wind, and the sun highlighting his features Éomer looked as if he had stepped out of a child's storybook of great deeds and heroes.
And the way he looked at him, Haldir thought in his heart, still too amazed to reveal emotion on his carefully assembled face, nobody had looked at him like that in a long time. In fact the elf doubted if anyone had ever gazed at him with so much hope, so much wonder, so much joy and so muchŠlove.
How much sweeter it was to see himself through Éomer's eyes rather than his own.
"Thank you," Haldir said, his rich, cultured voice barely more than a whisper, for he was so moved.
"Please keep it. It would please me to know that it keeps you warm," Éomer blurted out. He tried to urge the elf to take back the fur and their fingers touched.
The man almost yelped with alarm, he had imagined their meeting and conversing so many times over the years, and yet, during this crucial moment, he had nothing in the least bit inspiring or poetic to say.
But suddenly strong, well made fingers wrapped around his—and the elf smiled. The dawn became more beautiful than any he had ever witnessed, the sea wind more fragrant than any other scent he had ever known, the whispering water more melodious than any song he had ever heard.
"Thank you. I hope that you will offer me the kindness of letting me repay the gift once I am settled on land," Haldir said softly. He had no idea where he was going, or what his new living conditions would be like, but he knew that what he would give Éomer would be more treasured than any other gift he had given before.
Éomer, never as good with words as Boromir or Aragorn, was mute as he helped Haldir replace the fur about broad shoulders.
Then, their hands side by side on the railing but coyly not touching just yet, man and elf cast their eyes out over the sea as their hearts reached out tenderly for the other.
Sunlight danced in the waves, sparkling like winking stars in the deep blue crests. Aragorn, fresh from a morning loving made especially delightful and rather funny due to Boromir's bandaged hands, stayed hidden stealthily behind the mast. He saw the two men standing together and beamed.
Dawn had come in more ways than one for Éomer.
End
Embracing Sons of Gondor
by Dayast Joy
A New Dawn
o you believe in the power of kings to cross between realms, between worlds?"
