Title: Through the Night I Will Survive
Author: Eldariel
E-Mail: athena@beyondthefold.com
Rating: PG
Summary: Morgoth returns, and all who can fight must go to Valinor. The members of the Fellowship go and not all return.
Disclaimer: I own none of JRR Tolkein's characters. Only a few characters are made by me. Any misspellings of places or names are accidental. I tried to keep as close to Tolkein’s writings as possible.
When the End Comes
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Legolas strode through the forest of Ithilien. Long had his heart been troubled. His thoughts were constantly turned towards the sea. Seven years he had ignored the Sea-longing. Legolas reached a clearing and looked up at the starry sky. The star Earendil shined bright above him. Legolas sighed. He would have to go back now. Already he had stayed out too late, Vanariel, his wife and Lethonar, his son were probably waiting for him.
Legolas turned and began to make his way home. The village where the Silvan elves he ruled lived was not far.
He was expecting a quiet dinner with his family. What Legolas got was far different. When Legolas returned he found many of the homes of his people were burned. A few dead lay in the street, and among them were the fallen bodies of Orcs.
Legolas gasped. He had thought that all the Orcs had been destroyed at Sauron’s fall. There were too many to have been just a stray band of Orcs. This attack had been planned. But by whom? Orcs were too stupid to plan an attack like this on their own.
“My lord!” an elf was running towards him. It was Ethenil, a young elf whose father had died in the Battle of Five Armies.
“What happened?” Legolas asked.
“Orcs!” cried Ethenil, “They took us by surprise. They bore the standard of the Dark One!”
“Morgoth,” Legolas muttered under his breath. The Dagor Dagorath had come.
“Yes Morgoth,” Both Legolas and Ethenil turned.
Behind them stood a tall maiden. Of great beauty and power was she. It did not take long for Legolas and Ethendar to recognize her for who she was. As soon as they did they bowed their heads in respect.
“My lady, Elbereth,” Legolas spoke in a whisper that could barely be heard.
“We do not have the time to waste on respects,” She said. “Morgoth has arisen again. All the peoples of Arda must unite against him and soon for he is already preparing to attack Valinor. Ships are waiting to bear the people of Middle-Earth to Valinor to fight. Your job, Legolas, is to lead your people to Minas-Tirith and convince King Elessar to light the beacons of Gondor and summon the army of Rohan. Then go to the Ethir Anduin. There ships will be waiting to take you to Valinor. Do you accept this duty Legolas?”
“I will do this, my lady,” Said Legolas.
“Good,” Said Elbereth, “Namarie Legolas, hir-o Ithilien.” (Farewell Legolas, lord of Ithilien)
Legolas sent Ethenil to gather the elves. He went to his room and opened the box that held the Bow of the Galadrim, it seemed so long ago that the Lady Galadriel had given him the bow. Underneath the bow and quiver in the box lay the green garments that he had worn during The War of the Ring. Legolas donned them and put on the elven cloak he had received in Lothlorien. Then he strapped his quiver to his back and bow in hand Legolas strode out into the night.
The village was a bustle of activity. Elves ran this way and that.
“Legolas!” Vanariel called, running up leading Telpënar. Telpënar was a silver stallion whose sire was none other than the fiery Arod of Rohan. Though Arod was still alive he was too old to ride into battle. “Legolas the elves are ready and they wait for your command.”
“Namarie, dil nin,” (farewell my love) said Legolas, taking Telpënar’s reins Legolas kissed Vanariel and swung up into the saddle.
Vanariel watched Legolas ride towards the army. Feeling almost the same way she had felt when he had ridden off to Imladris to become a member of the Fellowship. She did not know if she would see him again.
Legolas led the elves to Minas-Tirith. As always the gates were open to him though that did not mean that he did not get strange and worried glances.
Apparently news of their coming had traveled before them, as it is wont to do in Minas-Tirith, even at night, for Faramir rode down to greet them.
“Greetings Legolas!” he said.
“Hail Faramir!” replied Legolas, “It has been too long.”
“What brings you and you army to Minas-Tirith so late at night?” asked Faramir.
At this Legolas’s face turned grim, “The Dagor Dagorath has come. All those who can must go to Valinor to fight.”
“The Dagor Dagorath?” Faramir asked with fright. For the Edain the Dagor Dagorath was only a haunting tale to tell small children by the fireside at night to scare them.
“Yes,” replied Legolas.
“We must go tell Lord Elessar at once!” said Faramir.
“That is why I have come, Faramir.”
When they reached the citadel servants came and led the elves to their rooms. Legolas went on with Faramir.
They found Aragorn in one of the counsel rooms. Arwen and Eowyn were with him. Faramir went to stand with Eowyn. Legolas went forward to greet Aragorn. Aragorn embraced Legolas with a smile.
“It has been too long Legolas,” said Aragorn.
Legolas smiled, “It is good to see you again, mellon nin. But we have things to speak of.”
“Sit down then and tell me what you need me to know,” said Aragorn.
“The Dagor Dagorath has come,” said Legolas, “All those who can fight must go to Valinor.”
“The Dagor Dagorath?” asked Arwen. Of the people in the room Arwen and Legolas were the only ones who knew what this meant.
Legolas nodded, “We have been charged to light the beacons and go to the Ethir Anduin to take the ships that have been readied there and sail to Valinor to fight.”
Aragorn nodded, “Faramir, go tell the guards that are on duty to light the beacons.”
“Yes, my Lord,” said Faramir.
Faramir left.
Aragorn sighed, “Legolas, Arwen, what do you know about the Dagor Dagorath?”
“It means,” said Legolas, “that Morgoth has escaped from bondage.”
“This will be the last major battle in the ongoing war between Morgoth and the free peoples of Arda,” said Arwen.
Aragorn nodded.
“This will be a battle with scales beyond those of all others,” said Legolas, “More will be at stake. All those who can fight will. Even women.”
“Even women?” asked Eowyn.
“Yes Eowyn even women,” replied Legolas.
“So that means I’ll be going even if I have to disguise myself as Dernhelm add go in secret.
“I am sure it will not come to that, Eowyn,” Aragorn laughed.
They had no more time to speak of this for then Faramir walked in, “The beacons are lit, my Lord.”
“Faramir, do not call me Lord,” said Aragorn, “At least not in company like this.”
“Yes, Aragorn,” said Faramir.
Aragorn smiled.
“It is late,” said Aragorn, “Terren, take Legolas to his room.”
One of the guards at the door came forth and gestured for Legolas to follow him. Legolas nodded to Aragorn and left. Terren led Legolas down the corridor and to the room that Legolas always used on his frequent visits.
Legolas entered and Terren left. Legolas strode over to the bed and removed his quiver and cloak. Then he stripped to his under-garments and lay down on the bed and fell asleep.
The Rohirrim
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Legolas stood above the gates of Minas-Tirith. He heard the clear ringing of the horns of Rohan and turned. The riders of Rohan stood mounted upon the horizon. Legolas’s elven eyes could see Eomer in the front astride his gray stallion. Eomer gave a signal and the Rohirrim rode down the hill and entered the open gates.
Legolas went down to the courtyard before the gates. Eomer turned his horse and strode up to him.
“Hail Legolas!” said Eomer; “It has been too long since I have seen you.”
“Alas that it is true,” sighed Legolas. It had indeed been far too long since he had seen any of his friends besides those that lived in the realm of Ithilien.
A short rider upon a small brown pony rode up.
“Gimli!” cried Legolas, “I did not expect you to be riding with the Rohirrim.
“I do live in Rohan,” said Gimli, flatly, “Or at least Aglarond is close enough to Rohan for my people to be summoned when the people of Rohan muster for war.”
“It is good to see you, my friend.”
Aragorn and Faramir rode down from the upper reaches of the city.
“It is good to see you Eomer,” said Aragorn, “and you to Gimli”
“Might I ask,” said Eomer, “why we have been called?”
“That would be better later when we have the time,” replied Aragorn, “First you should rest, for you have traveled a long way from Rohan.”
“Yes,” agreed Eomer, “We are not used to the long ride. The beacons have not been lit in what? Fifteen years?”
“Fifteen years now,” muttered Aragorn, “It seems like not that long ago the Fellowship left Rivendell.”
~ ~ ~
Later that evening Eomer and Gimli had come to see Aragorn and Legolas to be told what they had been sent for. Legolas had only been called because he knew what was really going on. Eomer was satisfied at that they had been called for a good reason.
“I never thought that the Dark One himself would return in my lifetime,” said Eomer.
“Nor, I believe did anyone here,” replied Aragorn. Legolas gave Aragorn a look that clearly said the word “anyone” did not suit.
“How long before we leave?” Eomer questioned.
“As soon as possible,” Aragorn said, “tomorrow if my men are ready.”
That night the order was given for all who could wield a sword to make ready to leave at first light.
~ ~ ~
The next morning elves, men, and dwarves alike stood inside the gates of Minas-Tirith. Men going said their farewells to loved ones. Legolas, Aragorn, and Eomer sat upon their horses at the front of the army. Gimli had taken up his much preferred position (to riding his little brown pony) behind Legolas. At last they were ready and they set off. It would take them a little over three days hard riding to reach the Ethir Anduin.
They rode without rest until the sun reached the highest point in her course across the sky. For a brief time they rested before setting off again. At dusk again they halted for the night. Clouds rolled in from the east.
“A storm is coming,” said Aragorn, “I have not forgotten the smell of rain from my Ranger years.”
Legolas nodded, “We must set up the tents quickly or else we’ll be working in the rain.”
At about midnight the rain was coming down in torrents, threatening to delay them on their journey south. Legolas noticed there was something wrong with the storm, he could not tell what. It was more just a feeling than something he could physically sense. Then the wind picked up, it was from the east, from Mordor. Though it had been long ago that Sauron had fallen, the taint of evil still lingered in the Darkness that had not left Mordor.
The next day they were forced to walk and lead their horses, for the ground was slippery and provided bad footing and the horses could easily slip and fall. Gimli grumbled as he stomped through the mud. At noon when they rested there was little ground dry enough to sit upon so they had to content themselves with getting wet. A few hours later a light drizzle began, adding to the army’s discomfort. That night they rested early.
The third day dawned and the sun decided to show her face as the clouds disappeared. It was warm for the time of year for they had come far to the south. That day went with little event. The next day they reached the sea.
Hundreds of ships floated in the Bay of Belfalas. The isle of Tolfalas could be seen in the distance. The afternoon was a bustle of activity and everyone was trying to get himself (or herself in the case of Eowyn) on a ship. Legolas glanced up at the gulls that wheeled overhead, he knew he would not return, if he did not die in the battle he would have to stay in Valinor with his people.
Once everyone was on a ship they set off. All traveled to the unknown, but alone the elves felt no discomfort at leaving for they were going home.
Always Hope
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
For many days they had been sailing. Legolas stood by Aragorn.
“Aragorn,” said Legolas, Aragorn turned to him, “I must tell you that I shall not return.”
“What do you mean?” Aragorn asked, “You are an excellent warrior, you can survive.”
“It is not of death that I speak of, I am an elf, mellon nin,” Legolas said, “I have ignored the call of the sea for too long.”
Aragorn did not respond, but Legolas knew Aragorn was hurt by this knowledge. Aragorn had been his friend for a long time, even for an elf. The man had become like a brother to him.
They knew that they had found the Straight Road to Valinor when the ships left the waters of the bent world. Legolas felt Aragorn tense beside him. He knew his friend was nervous. Very rarely were mortals permitted to come to Valinor. Though now it was different, many mortals had been summoned by the Valar themselves and it did not surprise Legolas that they were permitted to pass.
Eventually the isle of Tol Erresea appeared in the distance, their journey was almost over. They passed Tol Erresea and the white shores of Valinor could be seen. Legolas’s elven eyes could see many ships in the harbor and many warriors readied for the coming battle on the plains of Valinor.
The ship Legolas and Aragorn were on came up to one of the docks. Ropes were thrown overboard to other elves on the docks and the ship was secured. The other ships were now being secured as well. A plank was lowered over the water and they stepped off the boat onto the shores of Valinor.
As soon as his feet touched the shores of Valinor Legolas felt as if a great weight had been lifted from him. He had answered the sea longing so now it no longer weighed on his heart. Aragorn saw Legolas was lighter hearted than he had been in many long years. He remembered what Legolas had said on the journey here and though he wished not to be parted from his friend he knew in his heart that in was true. Aragorn had known for the whole time he had been a friend to Legolas that one day they would be parted, possibly forever.
Legolas saw his friend was distressed, “What is it, mellon nin?”
“Nothing,” Aragorn lied.
“Tell the truth,” Legolas said, “What is wrong.”
“You know me too well, Legolas,” Aragorn answered.
“That comes from knowing you for a long time, even for an elf.”
“Exactly,” said Aragorn, “I have known you for a long time even by elven standards and you have been like a brother to me and after this battle we shall never see each other again.”
“Never say never,” was all Legolas had for a response.
Legolas turned as he heard a familiar voice from among the other elves, “Ada!”
Thranduil was coming towards them, “Good to see you, ion nin. It has been far too long since I have seen you.”
“Forgive me for not coming to Eryn Lasgalen more.”
“There is nothing to forgive,” the Elvenking said, “You are the lord of the elves in Ithilien, ruling a realm no doubt keeps you busy.”
Legolas heart lightened further at seeing so many who had come to Valinor before him or just those who lived far away and he did not get to see much. Frodo was there as well, and Merry, Pippin, Sam, and Gandalf.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Legolas stood upon the plains of Valinor. About thirty feet away was a target. Legolas reached for an arrow and set it to the string, pulled back, aimed, and released, all in a very short matter of time.
“It always dazzles me how fast elves can shoot such tense bows that I have found impossible to even to pull the string back,” Legolas turned at the sound of Aragorn’s voice, he had known his friend was there.
“Thousands of years of practice.”
“Thousands of years?” Aragorn asked in disbelief, “How old are you?”
“Let me think,” Legolas said, pondering, for really did now actually know exactly or care, “Elves may have long memories but we do not remember what we don’t need to remember.”
“Your saying you don’t know how old you are?” Aragorn asked.
Legolas hesitated before speaking, “Yes. Did you have a reason for being here other than be amazed at the skill of the elves?”
“I was hoping to warm up for the battle,” he said, “I don’t want to go into the greatest battle ever unprepared.
Legolas drew his sword, “I would not want that either.”
Somewhat nervously, Aragorn drew Anduril. He knew that his larger sword should give him an advantage, but Legolas was an elf that had been perfecting his skills in battle for thousands of years, which gave him a very big advantage.
As both of them had thought, Legolas quickly had Aragorn beaten.
They did this for a while. Each time Aragorn held Legolas off a little longer, but still the elf always won.
“Alright, I give up!” said Aragorn, “You’ve proven yourself better than I am.”
Legolas saw past his friend’s humor, there was fear in the man’s eyes. “What is wrong mellon nin?”
“It’s just a felling,” Aragorn answered, “I feel as though I shall never return to Middle-Earth.”
Legolas thought he knew what Aragorn meant. If Aragorn survived the battle he would return to Middle-Earth. The only thing that would keep him from returning was death. Legolas shuddered at the thought. “Of course you shall return, for your skill in battle is beyond that of most men. You can survive.”
“This is the Dagor-Dagorath,” Aragorn replied, “Morgoth himself leads the armies that will assail us. I am afraid, Legolas, more afraid than I ever have been before a battle.”
Legolas stepped forward and put a hand on his friend’s shoulder, trying to comfort him. “You can fear what lies ahead, but to face that fear takes courage. You are going to fight in this battle of your own will, that is true bravery.”
Aragorn smiled but the smile was forced and did not reach his eyes. In the distance they heard the blaring of Orc horns. The Free People of Arda stood in a line before the gates of Valimar. The battle was about to begin.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The armies of Morgoth approached. Thousands upon thousands of Orcs poured like a flood of darkness onto the plains of Valinor. All was dark save for the moon that shone eerily though the clouds above. The torches of the Orcs gave away their enemies position and so the archers knew when to shoot. Legolas tightened his grip on his bow and set an arrow to the string as the order to make ready to fire ran along the line of archers. As soon as the Orcs were in range of the elves’ long-ranged bows the order to fire was given.
Thousand of white-feathered arrows sprang from their strings like a flock of birds whistling as they flew. Black arrows, most likely tipped with poison, answered. Legolas was barely able to avoid death when one of the Orcs arrows came in his direction.
Grief tugged at Legolas’s heart for every Elf that fell. Despite the countless arrows that assailed them the Orcs continued their advance. Soon the archers were forced to put away their bows and draw their swords.
Death cries, screams of fear, and the growls of Orcs filled the air with the all too familiar din of battle. Above all the noises of the fight one cry reached Legolas’s ears. He turned at his father’s cry for help. Many Orcs cornered Thranduil against the wall.
“Ada!” Legolas cried, rushing to his father’s side. Despite the added blade the Orcs still had victory over the Elven King.
“Nooo!” Legolas yelled as he watched his father fall. In his wrath the Orcs cowered in fear as they met their end on the edge of the Elven blade. Legolas’s fury peaked and he slew Orcs without mercy as he watched others fall. Gandalf fell fighting a Balrog, Gimli was cut down by Orcs, Sam and Merry died defending Frodo, and in the end Frodo too fell.
At length Morgoth himself appeared. Legolas could sense his evil even from the distance he was at. Morgoth was tall, much taller than any of the warriors fighting there. He was blacker than the night surrounding. In comparison to Morgoth, the Nazgul themselves seemed to bring no more fear than the Orcs did, for the fear Morgoth brought was utter darkness. This was the Lord of Shadow; the bringer of evil, to him Sauron had been just a servant. None could resist his blade. Then, as the Prophecy of Mandos had predicted, Manwé came down from his mountain and did battle with Morgoth.
Legolas became aware of singing. It was the songs of the Valar and of Morgoth. The song of beauty the Valar wove brought hope to the hearts of the Free People of Arda, yet at the same time the terror of Morgoth’s song brought fear. The two songs clashed in a glorious and terrible crescendo. Legolas found his voice had joined in the song of the Valar. The words were Quenyan:
Á orta aurë ar á pusta lómë
Á orta ar á mahta i umëa ungo Morgoth collë
[Rise light and put a cease to darkness, Rise day and put a cease to night, Rise creation, and put a stop to destruction, Rise beauty and defeat the foul ones! Rise free peoples of Arda! Rise and fight the evil shadow Morgoth brought. Fights of all fights, may you receive the valour of the free peoples!]
Behind him Legolas heard a growl. He turned. Coming towards him was a large dragon. It looked to be of the brood of Galrung, but Legolas had heard the last of those dragons had died out.
The dragon attacked him. Legolas raised his sword to fend off the swipe and dodged gout of flame. His eyes searched the dragon’s stomach for a weak spot, but he found none. He hoped his Elven blade would pierce through the think hide.
A giant claw knocked Legolas to the ground and pinned him there. He nearly cried out in pain when one of the dragon’s claws pierced into his shoulder. Legolas was certain he was going to meet his end as he watched the dragon prepare to rip him to pieces.
Legolas closed his eyes and awaited death. It did not come. Legolas heard a cry and opened his eyes. The dragon removed its crushing claw and turned to face his knew opponent. Legolas sprang back to his feet.
Anduril flashed like lightning as Aragorn fought the dragon. It reared up on its hind legs and came down to strike. Aragorn jumped back as the dead dragon fell at his feet, a white-feathered arrow buried in its throat.
“Thank you,” Aragorn said to Legolas.
“I should say the same to you mellon nin,” Legolas replied. Aragorn noticed Legolas was clutching his shoulder.
“What is wrong?” he asked, “Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine,” Legolas lied, though he knew Aragorn knew him to well to believe him.
“Therefore you are not,” he said, stepping forward. He took wrist and pulled it away from the wound. “Trust an Elf to tell you if they’re hurt,” Aragorn mumbled under his breath.
The cut was deep yet not life threatening, but it would need to be bound so that blood-loss would not kill Legolas.
Legolas did not resist when Aragorn pulled off a strip of his cloak to bind the wound. Thanking Aragorn, Legolas went back to the battle.
A Promise
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Legolas’s shoulder flared with pain as he swung his sword up to parry a blow from an Orc. He thrust the blade into the creature’s abdomen, dispatching its life. The red sun had begun to rise, making the sky look stained with the blood of those who had lost their lives that night.
Legolas’s limbs were weighed with fatigue. The battle had lasted long yet the fight between Manwé and Morgoth still raged. Legolas leaned on the hilt of his sword. For a moment there was a pause in the fighting, for most of the Orcs had been slain.
A cry for help in the Elven tongue reached Legolas’s ears. He turned; ready to fight for one of his kin. Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw. A group of Orcs held Aragorn captive and the man was too weary to fight back as their leader came forward, sword in hand, intent on killing Aragorn.
Legolas’s arrow sprang from its string a second too late.
“No!” he cried as Aragorn fell to the ground. He ran forward, Aragorn’s cry ringing in ears. By the time Legolas reached his friend’s side all of the Orcs that had held Aragorn lay dead, an arrow in their throat or heart.
Legolas fell to his knees and pulled Aragorn’s limp body into his arms.
“Aragorn,” he called, “Aragorn please, do not fall, do not die!”
Aragorn gave no response. Legolas felt for a pulse in the man’s wrist, though faint, it was there. This small glimmer of life brought Legolas a little hope.
“Come back, mellon nin,” Legolas whispered.
Aragorn’s eyes fluttered open, “Legolas?” the man’s voice was weak.
“I am here, my friend,” Legolas answered.
“My sight grows dark, I am dying.”
“No, Aragorn, you will live.”
Aragorn smiled slightly, “You have been a good friend to me Legolas. Promise me this one last thing.”
“What is it, Aragorn?” Legolas asked.
“Promise me you will stay in Valinor and remember me,” he said, “Remember the Fellowship, remember our story until all the world is changed so we will not be forgotten.”
“I will do what you ask, mellon nin,” Legolas replied, “I promise.”
Aragorn reached his hand behind his neck and unclasped the Evenstar from his neck and handed it to Legolas.
“This was a gift to you, Aragorn. You cannot give me it.”
“Arwen gave it to me as a token of love,” Aragorn said, “I give it to you now as a token of friendship.”
“I need no token to remember your friendship.”
“Legolas, just take it,” he said, “I want you to have it.”
Legolas sighed and closed his fingers around the jewel.
“Namarië, mellon nin, perhaps one day we shall meet again.”
With that Aragorn’s eyes closed and his breathing stilled. At that same moment the battle came to an end. Turin dealt the final deathblow to Morgoth.
Legolas felt a hand on his shoulder. He had known someone was there but he knew not who it was.
“I’m sorry, Legolas, I know Aragorn was a good friend to you,” the voice was Gandalf’s!
“Gandalf?” Legolas asked in disbelief.
“Why do you sound so surprised?” he asked.
“I thought you were dead!”
“Oh, you- did?” Gandalf sounded slightly embarrassed.
“I saw you fall fighting a Balrog.”
“Oh, that,” Gandalf said, “Well, I did fall, though not in the context you are saying. I-I tripped.”
“You tripped?”
“Yes.”
“Well at least you’re alive,” Legolas said, he felt his spirits rise slightly, “I would not like to spend an eternity without have a friend to spend it with.”
“I’m guessing you promised Aragorn you’d stay?”
“How did you know?” Legolas asked, wondering if Gandalf had heard what he and Aragorn had said.
“I heard you.”
Legolas laid Aragorn’s body upon the ground and stood up and faced Gandalf. If he were to live on he would have to accept Aragorn’s death. Legolas had always known a day would come when Aragorn would no longer be alive. He was not ashamed of the tears that flowed down his face. He knew he was not the only one who wept. He clasped the Evenstar around his neck, he was truly glad to have something to remind him of the past, of his friendship with Aragorn. Legolas knew he would keep his promise, as long as it was in his power to keep.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
That day the Fourth Age ended and the world changed to how we know it now. The bloodlines of Gondor and Rohan dwindled, the Hobbits removed themselves entirely from the world of the Big Folk, the Dwarves hid in their mountains, and Valinor was forever hidden to mortals.
Middle-Earth is no more, though we know of it because of a promise made long ago from an Elf to a Man. The journey of the Fellowship of the Ring is now considered to most just a Fairy Tale.
Legolas fulfilled his promise by telling the tale of the Fellowship, as well of the history of Middle-Earth, to the author of the much treasured book; The Lord of the Rings. Now it is our job to remember.