So That We Might Remember || stories of middle earth

I. The Boughs Have Wept

Rated T for semi-graphic battle, gore, and blood

. . .
THE BOUGHS HAVE WEPT
. . .

Somber whispers fell into the wind, entwined with a melody of parting and farewell. Laments flitted amid the river's slowing rush. With every rustle of the leaves upon the dirt, the ravenous, insatiable call for sadness grew, building with every pound of a mourning heart. As if meeting the forest's summons, raindrops dripped from the sky almost as tears of the heaven's grief, cleansing the bloodstained ground of its muddled crimson stains.

Death had come amid the trees—drifted into the wood of ashy green and shadowed light, kissed its faded boughs, condemning it to a fate far darker than oblivion.

And he stood amid it all, hood drawn over his eyes, yet still he saw it time and time again in a never-ending reminder of what had only just occurred. His chest was tight, arm drawn close to his side. Jaw clenched and gaze fixated on the empty air, he could only just keep his looming emotions contained. It would be too costly to falter—to waver in his stand against the onslaught of numbing pain. He was to be an emblem of strength. A hope that others could look to.

But here as he stood, cloak catching about his legs, the weight of a thousand griefs seemed to have set upon his shoulders. Facing the river front, he felt the soft movements of his comrades behind him. Few spoke unless it be a murmured word. They all seemed of the same mind, displaying their feelings as minimally as their will allowed. The forest was at war—and death came with battle. Such had they all been told before taking their vows as a warrior; but that did not temper the cool, harsh, merciless sting of the reality that had so cruelly leapt upon them.

They had been unable stay near the battlefield, the lingering smell of combat too liable to attract some tainted scavenger. In the clearing which they stayed, they could only stay for a short time, but that respite would do them well in easing troubled spirits.

He wanted to reassure them; he wanted to offer some variant of comfort.  If such feeling came to him, he would give all the assurance vested in him to those around him—but as it was, there was naught to give and even less to draw upon. Too much guilt had come upon him, not of blame but of his own lack. A heavy sadness that hung above him, blinding his thoughts yet darkening the shadows of his mind.

A hum came from behind him, and with a hard swallow he turned, to face a dark gaze shadowed by untamed hair escaped from the confinement of propriety.

There was an understanding in the gaze, one which sentiment would engulf should it be given the chance.

The ellon's voice was low; tone soft; words gentle. "The forest grieves."

Legolas drew his cloak tighter to him. "Aye, gwador. It feels this loss so dearly as we—or what goodness lingers in these trees does."

A sheer veil of silence fell between them, extending into a distant melancholy. The company had lingered for too long already—they should continue to the on their journey. And yet there was still too much to consider; too much that had yet to be said.

So it was with a thick tongue that Legolas spoke again, heart constricting even as he voiced the words of his thoughts. "I did not know his name." There was a pause, no answer to the statement arising. Seconds passed filled only with quiet huffs of breath. "He was of our company—under my command—but as I kneeled beside him, held him in my arms as he faded from this world.—I had no name to call him by. Only useless comforts and empty promises."

Forven did not speak—seemed to have no cause to. Instead, the lieutenant stepped closer to Legolas, bringing one arm to rest on his shoulder. Even should Forven speak to him, Legolas did not know if he would hear, for his mind was slowly drifting into the captivating tides of memory. Colors blurred, swirling into a bleak mix of black and white. Pulled into a reminiscence of what could hardly be considered past but only a distant present, Legolas found himself amid the fight.