Return Of The Shadow

Chapter 21: Ghosts

Aragorn sat alone lost in his thoughts. He'd barely eaten or slept ever since Èowyn had been captured. First he had lost Arwen, and now her.

Éomer was handling it better than he was, even though they both knew he was worried sick. But Éomer had kept himself busy with scouting enemy camps for any sign of her.

Aragorn was truly grateful for Èomer's help; even though he had lost all of his family he continued to support Aragorn and help him with the other survivors, he had become a true friend.

Aragorn winced as the painful memory of Legolas dying filled his mind. Why did he have to die? It wasn't fair, that orc had intended to kill him, not Legolas. Why had it killed Legolas instead? Why did it have to be his friend?

Aragorn remembered the last thing he had said to him; how he had told him that he never wanted to see him again, that he was a monster, a murderer.

But he hadn't been, he had been his friend, Legolas had given his life for him when he hadn't deserved it.

He remembered the fear in Legolas' eyes when he realized that he was dying, how his last breath had been used to tell him to run. Aragorn had taken his bow, he kept it with him always.

It was all he had left of his friend, the friend he had for years. Aragorn remembered when he'd first met him, how long ago that seemed. He remembered the young elf who had always been there for him, never abandoned him, who had saved his life countless times.

But he was gone. It was time he accepted it. Legolas was dead. He was never coming back, neither would Arwen, Gandalf, or Pippin.

So many had been lost. After they had fled Minas Tirith they had gone deep into the mountains. They had found a way to travel north to the other lands before the orcs had overrun everything.

They hadn't been able to save many people. Theoden hadn't made it out of Rohan and they hadn't been able to rescue anyone else.

When they had been able to venture into other lands they had found them destroyed. The Shire, Rivendell, Lorien, Rohan, Mirkwood, Gondor, Dale, Erebor, everywhere there had been destruction and death.

The people had been scattered. Taken far to different lands and forced to work as slaves. Aragorn had led many of the remaining people in freeing the captives. They had rescued men, dwarves, and even a few hobbits, but there were no more elves.

They had all been slaughtered, none had been left alive. Aragorn had gone to Rivendell and had seen the aftermath of the orc's attack.

The bodies of elves had lain everywhere. Scarred and defiled and laying in their own blood. He had found Arwen and Elrond. The sight of their lifeless bodies had broken him.

They hadn't had time to bury them. Aragorn hadn't had time to search for Elrond's sons, who had been like brothers to him. Elrohir and Elladan; he missed all of them with a pain that consumed his very being.

Aragorn had learned that the same thing had befallen the other elven lands. No elf had been left alive.

Galadriel, Celeborn, Thranduil, Elrond, and Arwen. All gone.

So much death

"Aragorn! There you are."

Aragorn looked up as Gimli approached him.
"I knew I'd find you sooner or later, you have to stop hiding all the time."

Aragorn grinned slightly, he couldn't bring himself to smile.
"Forgive me, I just needed some time to myself."

Gimli nodded.
"I understand lad."