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I don't know if anyone's reading this, but I'll continue anyway.
The Arrival of Mandos
Legolas was floating. White mist was surrounding him as far as the eye could see. What disturbed him was that he couldn’t move. As he struggled, he suddenly heard a voice.
“That will do know good, young prince.” Legolas turned his head, the only part of his body that didn’t feel like it had been turned to lead. His eyes widened to an almost comical level.
“Mandos?” Legolas whispered reverently, “Then, am I dead?” The Lord of the Dead almost looked sad.
“You are in between, but not for long. In a little less that two hours you will join your mother in my halls.”
“Then why are you coming to me early?” Legolas queried.
“If I didn’t, then you wouldn’t have woken up. I am here to give you a chance to say one final goodbye.”
“So… so there is nothing that can be done?” Now Legolas was sure that Mandos looked sad.
“There is no way.” The prince was shocked. Estel, what would happen to Estel. The young man was his best friend. How could he just leave him alone, after all they had been through together? And after they had sworn to always look after each other? Legolas knew that Estel would blame himself for Legolas’ failure. That was just how his friend was. He always tried to take on the responsibility of everyone.
“That is why you are going back to say goodbye. So that he doesn’t blame himself. You need to convince him or all is lost.” Mandos had been quiet for a while, listening to Mirkwood’s prince think, but now he spoke up, “You’re friend has a rich future in front of him. He should not through it away for grief.”
“As you wish, my lord.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Pain assaulted Legolas’ senses as he returned to consciousness. All he wanted was to slip into the black oblivion that was at the edge of his vision, but he had a mission to do.
“Estel?” he croaked, wincing at the sound of his voice. Hearing a sound, he turned his head in that direction.
“Estel. Please, I need you here.”
“I’m coming, mellon nin.” Aragorn had come to his senses as soon as he heard his friend’s voice, no matter how hoarse it was. It had driven him to put his own pain aside to come to Legolas’ aid. As he reached the elf’s side, he noticed how pale the other being was.
“Estel… I have… something to tell you.” Legolas was having trouble speaking. Mandos had not mentioned how much time he had to say goodbye, but apparently it wasn’t much.
“Shhh, my friend, you will be fine. I’ll call Ada.” Aragorn was worried. Legolas sounded awful.
“No…no don’t call him. Estel, I’m… dying. Mandos came…in my dreams. He told me that I would… have this chance to say…goodbye. You… you must not blame yourself. Never… ever… think that this was your fault. Do you hear me?” Now the elf was shaking and gasping with the effort of staying awake. But he had to tell the human this. The human that had won a place in his heart as his friend.
Aragorn was scared. Legolas couldn’t die. He couldn’t. The human needed the elf. They were brothers at heart. To loose the prince would be like loosing half of himself. Legolas seemed to see his emotions in his eyes.
“Mellon nin…no…do not…. You will… get better. You have… a bright…future. Do not through it away… for me.” Looking into his brother’s eyes, Legolas saw fear. But it was his time to go. He could say no more. Locking his eyes with Estel’s, Legolas took his last immortal breath, going limp on the bed.
Aragorn was in shock. No…no this couldn’t be. His friend, his brother, could not be gone. His shaky hands felt for a pulse, but found none. 'Legolas has always been slightly melodramatic,'Aragorn told himself, denial setting in. 'Honestly, all his heart needs is a jumpstart...' Te mortal began pounding on his friend's chest, gently at first, then harder and harder when Legolas made no move. Finally, his fists flying at the elf's sternum, he felt strong arms pulling him away. Not wanting to be take away from his companion, Estle shrugged out of the hold and slumped over the icy body, sobbing.
“Estel?” There came a soft voice, putting a face to the arms that had been restraining him. Elladan and Elrohir came into his line of sight, fear written on their faces.
“Estel?” Elrohir said softly, “What happened?” Aragorn looked up, his face empty and haunted.
“He is dead.”
The Loss of Hope
Elrond came running. This couldn’t be happening, it’s not possible. Legolas couldn’t be dead! Not the bright, shining prince that had brought Estel out of his shell. When Elrohir had come to him with the news he had almost refused to believe it. But when he got to the healing ward and checked over the other elf, he was forced to admit it was true. Looking over at his foster son, who had his head buried in the deceased elf’s chest sobbing, his heart broke a second time. Motioning to the twins to get Aragorn back to his bed, the lord of Rivendell sadly began adjusting Legolas’ sheets and clothing. But Aragorn would have none of it.
“NO, let me GO! I won’t leave him, I WON’T!” Estel was thrashing madly against his brothers, the humans eyes focused on the prone figure of his best friend. But Elrond was adamant about getting the adan to bed.
“Estel, you must rest. The same poison that killed Legolas is not fully out of your system. What would Legolas’ sacrifice mean if you died because you were full of grief?”
The effect was instantaneous. Aragorn stopped struggling, his face taking on an empty look. Elrond was sorry that he had to mention Mirkwood’s prince so soon after his death, but it was necessary.
“Leg- he told me that.” Estel said hoarsely, breaking through his father’s thoughts. The older elf looked at him sympathetically. He knew how hard it must be for the young Ranger. Legolas was his best friend, along with being friends to Elladan and Elrohir. Looking at his sons together now, he realized how broken they all looked. Like empty shells of the people they once were. ‘Yet another example of how much impact Legolas had on our lives’ Elrond thought sadly.
“My sons,” the ruler said softly, as though speaking to children “You must overcome your grief, or it will destroy you. I will not loose another member of this family. Legolas is not coming back. We need to regain our lives.”
Elrond contemplated what he had just said. It was true, Legolas was part of their family. And though he hated having to be the foundation of the family, for it gave him no time to grieve, he understood how much the others would be unable to handle their grief alone. But it was as though his speech had no effect on any of them. There was no hope reflected in any of the eyes staring back at him, no will to go on. Reluctantly realizing that there was no more he could do, Elrond left the room to do some grieving of his own.
Left together with a silent shell for a companion, Elladan and Elrohir carried Estel back to his bed, as he was in no shape to walk. As he was set down on the mattress, the human automatically curled up, facing the direction of his departed “brother”. The twins stared at him too. At great length, Elrohir finally spoke.
“We always thought we had forever. Now forever’s come and gone. And what do we have left? Nothing but broken lives and shattered dreams.” He turned tear-filled eyes to the elf beside him. “Why does it always have to end like this? Why?”
Elladan pulled the younger twin into a fierce hug, just letting him share some grief.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It was a sad sight you came upon, if you were to go into the healing ward. Four shattered lives, only three still alive. One would almost start to wonder if there was even hope in the room. And you would be right. There wasn’t.
Relapse
Arwen walked into the healing ward, her footsteps heavy. She felt weighted down by grief, and was reluctant to go into the place that had been her best friends death place. But her lover was in there as well, and she needed to see him. As she entered the room, her eyes traveled the length of it, searching for a familiar face. The Evenstar found who she was looking for, and she walked over and knelt beside the bed. Taking the human’s hand. She whispered softly to him.
“Estel.”
He turned bloodshot eyes toward her, all the life taken out of them. She smiled through her tears.
“Hey.” Arwen was struggling to put what she wanted to say into words, “Estel, do you remember three months ago, when we…affirmed our love?”
Aragorn looked confused, but he nodded slowly. Arwen was happy. This would make him live, she was sure of it.
“Estel, I am bearing your child. I’m pregnant. You’re going to be a father.” The princess was ecstatic. She was to be a mother. Now all her child needed was a father to look after him and teach him things. The Evenstar told him this. Her lover smiled.
“Do you remember the name you said you always wanted to name your child?” Aragorn said hoarsely, “We should call him that.”
“How do you know it will be a boy?” she jested.
“Gut instinct.” Aragorn retorted. He turned to face the bed of his elven “brother”. His face lost all its joy.
“His middle name should be Legolas.” Sorrow was now the main emotion on his face and tears were streaming down it. Suddenly he jerked.
“Arwen!” he cried painfully to the terrified elf maiden beside him, before everything faded into oblivion.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Thranduil rode into Imladris, sitting proudly on his steed, Cyro and Remnul flanking him. But that was just a façade. Inside he was in turmoil. His youngest son was dying, maybe dead, he didn’t know. How could this have happened? And why? Legolas was so innocent and young. No one like him deserved to die.
When the King of Mirkwood reached the building that Elrond was waiting in front of, he swiftly dismounted, followed immediately by his sons. Two servants came to take the horses away. Lord Elrond said nothing, just beckoned them to follow him. They did so without question. But instead of leading them to where Legolas was, the family was lead to the Lord’s private study. He motioned for them to sit down. Remaining standing, Elrond locked his sad eyes on Thranduil’s fearful ones.
“You’re son…he is dead.” he said in a choked voice. At this, Thranduil’s reserve cracked and his face betrayed his anguish. Remnul and Cyro were no better off. Their baby brother, their little star…was dead. Gone forever. How? Why? Then Elrond spoke again.
“It will probably make you feel better to know that my adopted son is blaming himself for this.” the elven lord said bitterly, “Even though he is not an elf, I fear he may die of grief. Then we will be even.”
“No.” Thranduil croaked, “No, this is a pain I would not wish upon my worst enemy, which you do not count as. I hold no grudge against you. I know you tried.”
“I really did. I searched this entire library three times over, but nothing worked. Please, forgive me.” Elrond wasn’t used to begging, but his grief was getting the better of him. Thranduil nodded, too emotionally shot to argue. Suddenly the door burst open and Elladan rushed in fear showing on his face.
“Ada quick! Estel is having a relapse!”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Aragorn didn’t feel anything. Not pain, not grief, not fear. Nothing. He was floating. The last thing he remembered was staring at Legolas’ dead body, wondering how he could go on. And then there was pain. A lot of pain in his chest and the shoulder that was hit by the arrow. It took him here. Wherever here was. White mist surrounded him as far as the eye could see. And then he heard a voice.
“Estel.”
It came from behind him. But he shouldn’t be able to hear that voice, because the owner of the voice had passed. It was impossible. But there it was.
“Estel look at me.” the voice commanded. He had no choice but to obey. When he turned, the human saw the one person he thought he’d never see again.
“Legolas!” Aragorn cried. He tried to run to the elf and then figured out for the first time that he couldn’t move. Legolas saw his struggle and came to him, embracing him. Aragorn hugged him fiercely, afraid to let go in case he lost him again.
“I thought you were dead, I don’t understand.” Estel muttered into the prince’s shoulder. He felt his friend chuckle and he let go, pushing Legolas to an arms length to look at him properly. Legolas was still laughing softly.
“I am dead Estel.” he said, finally calm. His face took on a serious look.
“I am here on direct orders from Mandos.” Legolas paused, looking his friend in the eyes, “You’re dying, Estel. You’re almost dead. Elrond can’t save you. I am here to welcome you to the Halls.”
Aragorn was floored. He was dying? But what about his son?
“You found something to live for too late. You had given up because your grief for me was so great. Now not even your son can save you.”
“Then why are you here? Why not wait until I die?”
“I wanted to welcome you personally.”
“Legolas… I’m sorry. You told me not to give up and I failed you.”
Legolas sighed. “You didn’t fail me. You did find something to live for, just a little too late.” The prince shrugged. “So, you now come with me.”
A bright light shaft suddenly appeared, shining down on the elf. He stretched out his hand.
“Take my hand, Estel, and experience eternal peace with me.”
Aragorn hesitated, his mind turning back to Arwen. But his resolve to stay was weakening.
“Come to me, Estel”
Estel went.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Elrond was in shock. He had arrived in the healing ward with Elladan and Legolas’ family on his heels, to fid Arwen sobbing hysterically, and being restrained by Elrohir. His daughter was trying frantically to get to Estel. The lord’s eyes turned to hi son. The human was deathly still and as white as the sheets underneath him. Rushing over, the healer checked for a pulse with shaking fingers. There was none, and the skin was rapidly cooling. Aragorn was dead. Turning to the watching elves, he said brokenly,
“There’s nothing I can do. He is dead.”
The Arrival of Mandos
Legolas was floating. White mist was surrounding him as far as the eye could see. What disturbed him was that he couldn’t move. As he struggled, he suddenly heard a voice.
“That will do know good, young prince.” Legolas turned his head, the only part of his body that didn’t feel like it had been turned to lead. His eyes widened to an almost comical level.
“Mandos?” Legolas whispered reverently, “Then, am I dead?” The Lord of the Dead almost looked sad.
“You are in between, but not for long. In a little less that two hours you will join your mother in my halls.”
“Then why are you coming to me early?” Legolas queried.
“If I didn’t, then you wouldn’t have woken up. I am here to give you a chance to say one final goodbye.”
“So… so there is nothing that can be done?” Now Legolas was sure that Mandos looked sad.
“There is no way.” The prince was shocked. Estel, what would happen to Estel. The young man was his best friend. How could he just leave him alone, after all they had been through together? And after they had sworn to always look after each other? Legolas knew that Estel would blame himself for Legolas’ failure. That was just how his friend was. He always tried to take on the responsibility of everyone.
“That is why you are going back to say goodbye. So that he doesn’t blame himself. You need to convince him or all is lost.” Mandos had been quiet for a while, listening to Mirkwood’s prince think, but now he spoke up, “You’re friend has a rich future in front of him. He should not through it away for grief.”
“As you wish, my lord.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Pain assaulted Legolas’ senses as he returned to consciousness. All he wanted was to slip into the black oblivion that was at the edge of his vision, but he had a mission to do.
“Estel?” he croaked, wincing at the sound of his voice. Hearing a sound, he turned his head in that direction.
“Estel. Please, I need you here.”
“I’m coming, mellon nin.” Aragorn had come to his senses as soon as he heard his friend’s voice, no matter how hoarse it was. It had driven him to put his own pain aside to come to Legolas’ aid. As he reached the elf’s side, he noticed how pale the other being was.
“Estel… I have… something to tell you.” Legolas was having trouble speaking. Mandos had not mentioned how much time he had to say goodbye, but apparently it wasn’t much.
“Shhh, my friend, you will be fine. I’ll call Ada.” Aragorn was worried. Legolas sounded awful.
“No…no don’t call him. Estel, I’m… dying. Mandos came…in my dreams. He told me that I would… have this chance to say…goodbye. You… you must not blame yourself. Never… ever… think that this was your fault. Do you hear me?” Now the elf was shaking and gasping with the effort of staying awake. But he had to tell the human this. The human that had won a place in his heart as his friend.
Aragorn was scared. Legolas couldn’t die. He couldn’t. The human needed the elf. They were brothers at heart. To loose the prince would be like loosing half of himself. Legolas seemed to see his emotions in his eyes.
“Mellon nin…no…do not…. You will… get better. You have… a bright…future. Do not through it away… for me.” Looking into his brother’s eyes, Legolas saw fear. But it was his time to go. He could say no more. Locking his eyes with Estel’s, Legolas took his last immortal breath, going limp on the bed.
Aragorn was in shock. No…no this couldn’t be. His friend, his brother, could not be gone. His shaky hands felt for a pulse, but found none. 'Legolas has always been slightly melodramatic,'Aragorn told himself, denial setting in. 'Honestly, all his heart needs is a jumpstart...' Te mortal began pounding on his friend's chest, gently at first, then harder and harder when Legolas made no move. Finally, his fists flying at the elf's sternum, he felt strong arms pulling him away. Not wanting to be take away from his companion, Estle shrugged out of the hold and slumped over the icy body, sobbing.
“Estel?” There came a soft voice, putting a face to the arms that had been restraining him. Elladan and Elrohir came into his line of sight, fear written on their faces.
“Estel?” Elrohir said softly, “What happened?” Aragorn looked up, his face empty and haunted.
“He is dead.”
The Loss of Hope
Elrond came running. This couldn’t be happening, it’s not possible. Legolas couldn’t be dead! Not the bright, shining prince that had brought Estel out of his shell. When Elrohir had come to him with the news he had almost refused to believe it. But when he got to the healing ward and checked over the other elf, he was forced to admit it was true. Looking over at his foster son, who had his head buried in the deceased elf’s chest sobbing, his heart broke a second time. Motioning to the twins to get Aragorn back to his bed, the lord of Rivendell sadly began adjusting Legolas’ sheets and clothing. But Aragorn would have none of it.
“NO, let me GO! I won’t leave him, I WON’T!” Estel was thrashing madly against his brothers, the humans eyes focused on the prone figure of his best friend. But Elrond was adamant about getting the adan to bed.
“Estel, you must rest. The same poison that killed Legolas is not fully out of your system. What would Legolas’ sacrifice mean if you died because you were full of grief?”
The effect was instantaneous. Aragorn stopped struggling, his face taking on an empty look. Elrond was sorry that he had to mention Mirkwood’s prince so soon after his death, but it was necessary.
“Leg- he told me that.” Estel said hoarsely, breaking through his father’s thoughts. The older elf looked at him sympathetically. He knew how hard it must be for the young Ranger. Legolas was his best friend, along with being friends to Elladan and Elrohir. Looking at his sons together now, he realized how broken they all looked. Like empty shells of the people they once were. ‘Yet another example of how much impact Legolas had on our lives’ Elrond thought sadly.
“My sons,” the ruler said softly, as though speaking to children “You must overcome your grief, or it will destroy you. I will not loose another member of this family. Legolas is not coming back. We need to regain our lives.”
Elrond contemplated what he had just said. It was true, Legolas was part of their family. And though he hated having to be the foundation of the family, for it gave him no time to grieve, he understood how much the others would be unable to handle their grief alone. But it was as though his speech had no effect on any of them. There was no hope reflected in any of the eyes staring back at him, no will to go on. Reluctantly realizing that there was no more he could do, Elrond left the room to do some grieving of his own.
Left together with a silent shell for a companion, Elladan and Elrohir carried Estel back to his bed, as he was in no shape to walk. As he was set down on the mattress, the human automatically curled up, facing the direction of his departed “brother”. The twins stared at him too. At great length, Elrohir finally spoke.
“We always thought we had forever. Now forever’s come and gone. And what do we have left? Nothing but broken lives and shattered dreams.” He turned tear-filled eyes to the elf beside him. “Why does it always have to end like this? Why?”
Elladan pulled the younger twin into a fierce hug, just letting him share some grief.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It was a sad sight you came upon, if you were to go into the healing ward. Four shattered lives, only three still alive. One would almost start to wonder if there was even hope in the room. And you would be right. There wasn’t.
Relapse
Arwen walked into the healing ward, her footsteps heavy. She felt weighted down by grief, and was reluctant to go into the place that had been her best friends death place. But her lover was in there as well, and she needed to see him. As she entered the room, her eyes traveled the length of it, searching for a familiar face. The Evenstar found who she was looking for, and she walked over and knelt beside the bed. Taking the human’s hand. She whispered softly to him.
“Estel.”
He turned bloodshot eyes toward her, all the life taken out of them. She smiled through her tears.
“Hey.” Arwen was struggling to put what she wanted to say into words, “Estel, do you remember three months ago, when we…affirmed our love?”
Aragorn looked confused, but he nodded slowly. Arwen was happy. This would make him live, she was sure of it.
“Estel, I am bearing your child. I’m pregnant. You’re going to be a father.” The princess was ecstatic. She was to be a mother. Now all her child needed was a father to look after him and teach him things. The Evenstar told him this. Her lover smiled.
“Do you remember the name you said you always wanted to name your child?” Aragorn said hoarsely, “We should call him that.”
“How do you know it will be a boy?” she jested.
“Gut instinct.” Aragorn retorted. He turned to face the bed of his elven “brother”. His face lost all its joy.
“His middle name should be Legolas.” Sorrow was now the main emotion on his face and tears were streaming down it. Suddenly he jerked.
“Arwen!” he cried painfully to the terrified elf maiden beside him, before everything faded into oblivion.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Thranduil rode into Imladris, sitting proudly on his steed, Cyro and Remnul flanking him. But that was just a façade. Inside he was in turmoil. His youngest son was dying, maybe dead, he didn’t know. How could this have happened? And why? Legolas was so innocent and young. No one like him deserved to die.
When the King of Mirkwood reached the building that Elrond was waiting in front of, he swiftly dismounted, followed immediately by his sons. Two servants came to take the horses away. Lord Elrond said nothing, just beckoned them to follow him. They did so without question. But instead of leading them to where Legolas was, the family was lead to the Lord’s private study. He motioned for them to sit down. Remaining standing, Elrond locked his sad eyes on Thranduil’s fearful ones.
“You’re son…he is dead.” he said in a choked voice. At this, Thranduil’s reserve cracked and his face betrayed his anguish. Remnul and Cyro were no better off. Their baby brother, their little star…was dead. Gone forever. How? Why? Then Elrond spoke again.
“It will probably make you feel better to know that my adopted son is blaming himself for this.” the elven lord said bitterly, “Even though he is not an elf, I fear he may die of grief. Then we will be even.”
“No.” Thranduil croaked, “No, this is a pain I would not wish upon my worst enemy, which you do not count as. I hold no grudge against you. I know you tried.”
“I really did. I searched this entire library three times over, but nothing worked. Please, forgive me.” Elrond wasn’t used to begging, but his grief was getting the better of him. Thranduil nodded, too emotionally shot to argue. Suddenly the door burst open and Elladan rushed in fear showing on his face.
“Ada quick! Estel is having a relapse!”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Aragorn didn’t feel anything. Not pain, not grief, not fear. Nothing. He was floating. The last thing he remembered was staring at Legolas’ dead body, wondering how he could go on. And then there was pain. A lot of pain in his chest and the shoulder that was hit by the arrow. It took him here. Wherever here was. White mist surrounded him as far as the eye could see. And then he heard a voice.
“Estel.”
It came from behind him. But he shouldn’t be able to hear that voice, because the owner of the voice had passed. It was impossible. But there it was.
“Estel look at me.” the voice commanded. He had no choice but to obey. When he turned, the human saw the one person he thought he’d never see again.
“Legolas!” Aragorn cried. He tried to run to the elf and then figured out for the first time that he couldn’t move. Legolas saw his struggle and came to him, embracing him. Aragorn hugged him fiercely, afraid to let go in case he lost him again.
“I thought you were dead, I don’t understand.” Estel muttered into the prince’s shoulder. He felt his friend chuckle and he let go, pushing Legolas to an arms length to look at him properly. Legolas was still laughing softly.
“I am dead Estel.” he said, finally calm. His face took on a serious look.
“I am here on direct orders from Mandos.” Legolas paused, looking his friend in the eyes, “You’re dying, Estel. You’re almost dead. Elrond can’t save you. I am here to welcome you to the Halls.”
Aragorn was floored. He was dying? But what about his son?
“You found something to live for too late. You had given up because your grief for me was so great. Now not even your son can save you.”
“Then why are you here? Why not wait until I die?”
“I wanted to welcome you personally.”
“Legolas… I’m sorry. You told me not to give up and I failed you.”
Legolas sighed. “You didn’t fail me. You did find something to live for, just a little too late.” The prince shrugged. “So, you now come with me.”
A bright light shaft suddenly appeared, shining down on the elf. He stretched out his hand.
“Take my hand, Estel, and experience eternal peace with me.”
Aragorn hesitated, his mind turning back to Arwen. But his resolve to stay was weakening.
“Come to me, Estel”
Estel went.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Elrond was in shock. He had arrived in the healing ward with Elladan and Legolas’ family on his heels, to fid Arwen sobbing hysterically, and being restrained by Elrohir. His daughter was trying frantically to get to Estel. The lord’s eyes turned to hi son. The human was deathly still and as white as the sheets underneath him. Rushing over, the healer checked for a pulse with shaking fingers. There was none, and the skin was rapidly cooling. Aragorn was dead. Turning to the watching elves, he said brokenly,
“There’s nothing I can do. He is dead.”
