Fade

A/N: Hi! This was a request from midnight13731, who was the 100th reviewer to my story "Moment". Sorry for the late upload, my sister stole the computer. -.-

The autumn leaves rustled under his feet.

Dull blue eyes gazed at the forest around him, unseeing. Shrouded in black, the color of mourning, Legolas Thranduilion was lost in his memories.

.:.

The scent of the flowers perfumed the air. The Prince of Mirkwood breathed deeply, letting himself relax in the sanctuary of Imladris. He took the elegantly-wrought silver circlet from his brow, turning it around and around in his hands.

A slight noise from the bushes startled him. Warily, he eyed the shrubbery. "Dan, Ro, if that's you again..." He trailed off as silver eyes, tinted with blue, peered out at him. "Estel?" Legolas ventured cautiously.

The child looked at him for a few moments longer, before deciding it was safe. Legolas held out his arms to Estel, who happily let the Elf hold him. At eight years old, Estel was still small for his age.

"What's wrong?" Legolas murmured, effortlessly balancing the child at his hip. Estel rested his dark head against Legolas' shoulder. "I was sad, because of Nana," he said quietly. "But I can't be sad anymore, with you here."

.:.

"The King is dead," the Elves whispered among themselves when Legolas returned, his Elven light dim and flickering. "Long live King Eldarion."

Caralas, daughter of the Elvenking's sister, knew how much damage grief could do to an Elven heart. Her own father had befriended Arathorn, father of the King Elessar. When Arathorn was killed in an orc ambush on the Dúnedain encampment, her father nearly faded from grief. But even she could not comfort Legolas.

Legolas was fading.

.:.

Legolas flinched as Aragorn dabbed at the lacerations on his back. The man apologized softly, dipping the rag in water again. As gently as he could, he cleaned the Elf's wounds.

As Aragorn smeared a poultice over the wounds and bandaged them, he spoke quietly to Legolas. "Why?" He knew Legolas would understand his unspoken question.

"How could I stand there and watch as Sauron tortured you?" Legolas replied softly. "Hope cannot be allowed to die."

"I could have escaped on my own. You did not have to come for me, and put your life in danger to save me."

Carefully, Legolas sat up, fixing Aragorn with a look of what could only be described as anger, mixed with exasperation. "Aragorn." The man knew Legolas was serious when he used Aragorn's human name. "Must I say it to you again? Amin khiluva a' gurtha ar' thar. I will follow you to death and beyond. Next to you, my own life means nothing."

Aragorn was silent, knowing that Legolas spoke only the truth. He sighed, gently taking the Elf's slim hand in his own. "And what makes you think my life would have any meaning without you?" he countered. "I cannot bear the thought of losing you, Lassë. For me, at least...protect yourself first."

.:.

Restless, and unable to assuage the grief that burned through his veins like poison, Legolas took to wandering the woods, far from the worried eyes of his friends. It was said that at times, in Ithilien—and indeed, sometimes even as far as Osgiliath—a strange, haunting melody, beautiful but melancholy, could be heard soaring on the breeze, as if played by an ethereal instrument.

The people whispered that it was Elessar's spirit, granted the privilege to visit his dearest friend. Separated though the two friends were by death, past which none in living memory had ever returned from, the Valar themselves would surely allow it.

.:.

The very air of the room was still and heavy.

Legolas stood in the middle of the room, like a statue for all his pallor and immobility. Aragorn gazed out the window to the city, his back to the Elf. Three times Legolas opened his mouth, as if to speak. But time and again, words failed him.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Aragorn spoke, his aged voice weary. "Have you nothing to say to me, Legolas?"

A single tear trailed down Legolas' pale cheek, and he took a shuddering breath. "Aragorn..." His voice trembled.

Aragorn heard the Elf's anguish in his voice, and turned, crossing the distance between them in two long strides. "Legolas, do not weep," he pleaded quietly.

Legolas closed his eyes, his tears trickling faster as he shook his head. "We stand here, on the eve of our separation, and you tell me not to weep." He opened his eyes, an emotion close to desperation in his eyes. "Do not do this, Aragorn. Saes..."

Aragorn laid his hand on Legolas' cheek, gently brushing away the tears. "My time has come, mellon nîn," he murmured. "You understand this." Legolas shook his head even more vehemently. "Mortality is the gift of Men," continued Aragorn. "Two hundred and ten years I have walked this earth, and I know, now is the time to return that gift."

"Aragorn, you have told me to follow the gulls, ever since you were crowned King. And you ask me why I did not. Why I stayed, watching Time do her deadly work. I stayed, because your call is stronger than the sea's could ever be. There is nothing left for me here without you."

.:.

Legolas found himself kneeling on the ground in an unfamiliar clearing. The pine needles prickled slightly as he shifted his weight. He sighed, rising mechanically and settling himself at the base of a nearby tree. Resting his head against the rough bark, he looked up at the deep blue sky, still reminiscing.

"Legolas?" Gimli's soft question interrupted his thoughts. He looked over to where the Dwarf was standing, watching him nervously. "Legolas, laddie, are you..." He trailed off. "We should go back," he said instead. "It's almost dark." Legolas nodded, and rose.

They walked a few miles in silence, before Gimli spoke again. "Will you sail, now that Aragorn has passed?"

Legolas was quiet for a long while, before he answered. "There is nothing left for me here."

A/N: Please leave feedback if you have time! It is greatly appreciated (: