Title: There is Comfort in Companionship

Series: Book of Days (basically, it's a series of missing moments.  Little scenes between Aragorn and Legolas that will take place throughout the trilogy – please read author's note (2) for more info.)

Author: Erika ([email protected])

Rating: PG

Summary: Legolas seeks to comfort Aragorn after the fall of Gandalf.

Time Frame: Takes place in Lothlorien.

Spoilers: For the FOTR, as if any of you haven't seen it.

Category: Angst, H/C, what else?  Oh yeah, POV.

Disclaimers: It would make me the happiest person in the world to be able to truthfully say that Aragorn and Legolas belong to me, but alas, it is not so.  I make no money from this, and it is written (against my will) for entertainment purposes only.

Feedback: Both positive feedback and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated and will be cherished!

Archive:  Please ask and send me a link to your site so that I can check it out. =D

Author's Note:  (1) It's been a few years since I last read the LOTR in its entirety so these missing moments are basically based on the movies.  I apologize in advance if I contradict anything that's stated in the books; any mistakes are purely accidental. (2) So far, this series consists of the following stories:  A Light in the Darkness (not yet posted), The Comfort of Listening, There is Always Hope, and Fall of a Friend.


There is Comfort in Companionship

Legolas:

The heart wrenchingly mournful song of my kin rang out through Lothlorien.  Beautiful and poignant, it was both a lament to Gandalf's fall and a tribute to his name.  Filled with more sorrow than words alone could utter, it solidified the strength of the grief that burdened my heart.  Indeed, the sadness within me was so great that I had not the means to express it, nor the desire to do so.

So piercingly melancholy were my people's words that my companions, though unable to understand their meaning, grew yet more weary and distressed upon hearing them.  Gandalf's death weighed heavily on us all.  A quest which had been deemed perilous from its onset was now tinged with grief and hopelessness.  The pain of our loss was as evident as the descending night.

To a stranger, Aragorn seemed no more deeply affected by this than any other member of the Fellowship, but as his friend of many years, I could see the truth.  His eyes were haunted by more than just the grief of Gandalf's passing.  Uncertainty and doubt darkened his gentle gaze.  Burdened by what he perceived was the weakness of his lineage, he did not believe he could lead us as surely as the wizard.  He feared he would fall to the evil of the Ring, as had Isildur, and fail Frodo in his quest.  He could not see the strength that lay within him.

After but a few moments of listening to my people's song, I was not surprised when he quietly slipped away into the darkness of the wood.  He sought solitude to think and contemplate, but I knew that it would not bring him peace.  That would not come until he found within himself the certainty that he could rise above his ancestor.

Despite knowing that my companionship was not desired, I followed him.  Perhaps I could not bring him the peace he so desperately wanted but I at least could give him solace.  As his friend, it was my duty.  I would not see him suffer so and do nothing to ease his pain.

Aragorn, having not only been taught by my own people but also possessing the skills of a Ranger, could have easily lost me in the forest.  The fact that his wandered through the trees with clumsy aimless steps, unaware that he was not alone, testified to the strength of his turmoil.  It was an easy thing indeed to keep myself at a discreet distance until he came to a slow stop in a small, secluded clearing of the wood.  Gazing sightlessly up at the stars, his heavy stance spoke volumes of his sadness and uncertainty.

Approaching him as soundlessly as the night, I came to stand at his side.  Either Aragorn was not aware of my presence or he chose not to acknowledge it for he neither gave me permission to stay nor bid me leave.  The fact that he made no move at all led me to believe that he truly was so distracted by his thoughts that he had let his guard down.

"Aragorn," I murmured softly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

My friend did not start or cry out but the momentary tensing of his muscles let me know that I had indeed surprised him.  Instead of offering an apology for startling him, I gave a small squeeze of my hand in quiet comfort.

"Legolas…" he began without looking at me, his voice soft and full of sadness.

"You needn't waste your breath asking me to leave," I interrupted him firmly, "for I will not go."

"Surely you can understand that I wish to be alone," he countered.  There was an annoyed edge to his voice but I would not let myself be swayed.  Aragorn was my friend.  It grieved me to see him in unnecessary pain and I knew that although I had few words of comfort to offer him, the company of a friend would be of greater consolation to him than solitude.

Smiling, I turned my gaze from him to the twinkling stars.  "I have stood by you many times in battle when you have commanded me to leave.  I will do no less now."  Having said that, I let my hand fall back to my side and made no move to go.  I could have said that everything would be all right or offered other such meaningless words of comfort, but instead I fell silent and simply stood with him.  Unburdening his worries would ease his grief and doubts more than listening to any advice I might give would.  I knew that if he wanted to talk, he would.  If not, there was comfort to be found in simple companionship.  Perhaps being with him would help.

Aragorn said nothing.  Cocking his head to one side, he appeared to be listening to the song which could still so clearly be heard through the trees.  The words, however, only kindled his burden and he seemed to sag down under its weight.  My own heart contracted upon seeing him so insecure.  I wanted nothing more than to lift these worries from his shoulders but all I could do was offer him someone to be with.

Sighing softly, he walked forward a few paces before finally speaking.  "I do not know if I have the strength to do this, Legolas," he murmured softly, "How can I succeed where even Gandalf failed?  I have neither his wisdom nor his abilities.  How am I to see this quest to completion?"

The pain in his voice was strong and bitterly evident, no longer concealed behind his quiet, withdrawn manner, and I knew that he was revealing a weakened, vulnerable side of himself that he did not show to many.  It both touched and saddened me.  It pleased me to know that he felt he could confide in me but at the same time it hurt me to understand that nothing I could say would erase his turmoil.  The best I could hope for was to ease it for as long as his dark, circling thoughts allowed.

"Gandalf did not fail," I responded with conviction, believing what I had doubted before entering this enchanted realm and being soothed by the presence of my kin and the joy of the wood, "he gave his life for the Fellowship and for the success of the Ringbearer.  You have the wisdom of your own experiences and abilities of your own.  He trusted you to lead us on.  I do as well," I added after a moment's pause.  Aragorn had always had my respect and loyalty.  It was important for him to know that he was believed in at this time when he was so unsure of himself.

When he answered, his voice was barely above a broken whisper, "I fear that trust was misplaced…yours as well."

I closed my eyes at his pain and tried to fill my voice with the certainty I felt, "I do not believe it was.  I know mine is not."

Finally, he turned to face me.  His features were shadowed in doubt.  "How do you know?"

Meeting and holding his troubled gaze with my own, I smiled and stepped forward until I was standing only inches away from him.  Placing my hand on his arm in a soothing gesture, I answered, "I know because I have been witness to your courage and your strength and though you doubt yourself, you have not lost either of those things.  In the end, they will see you through.  You will not lead us astray."

I paused to gauge the effect of my words.  Seeing little notable reaction in him, I continued, "You hold weakness within you, Aragorn, as do well all, but it will not conquer you.  For you are wise enough to admit its existence and not think yourself invulnerable to the lure of evil.  Your folly is in feeling this weakness too keenly and believing yourself unable to overcome it," I mildly squeezed his arm, "Remember that though this quest and your destiny may lead you through fire and darkness, you shall never walk alone.  As your friend, I will remain at your side to help you bear this burden that tampers your spirit."

His dark eyes pierced my own in a searching stare.  Realizing it was very important for him to be entirely certain of my sincerity, I let my eyes reflect my deep caring for this man who was my dearest friend.  I wanted him to see I cherished his friendship and know that I would never deceive him for the mere purpose of lifting his spirits.

For a few moments his gaze remained unchanged, but then he seemed to find what he was looking for in my eyes and some of the distress gave way to a sparkle of gratitude and friendship.  The deep blue color of his eyes lightened.  "Yesterday I heard Gimli remark that he envied Frodo Sam's loyalty, but I find I can hold no such regret for I am fortunate enough to have such a loyal friend myself."  He smiled a sad, troubled, smile.  "I am grateful – very grateful – for your companionship.  Thank you."

Seeing the mixed joy and sorrow in his gaze, I knew that though he still held the same troubles within him, my willingness to be here with him, as a friend, had given him some comfort.  It made me happy to know that, at least for now, that was enough.  Later, he would withstand greater trials and sorrows that would test his strength and bring these uncertainties rushing back to the surface.   For the moment though, he had found solace in my friendship and that lifted some of my own grief away.

Reaching forward, he clasped both my shoulders in his hands and tilted his head down until our foreheads were touching.  "Thank you," he repeated thickly and I smiled at the true gratitude his voice expressed.  The deep friendship we shared had always warmed my heart.

"I am glad to be of help to you," I replied honestly, "You are most welcome, my friend."

THE END