Legolas like Cyrano
Title: Legolas like Cyrano
Author: Slesia
E-mail: b.bianchi@sms.ed.ac.uk
Fic Journal: www.livejournal.com/users/slesia/
Pairing: A/L
Status: 1/1
Rating: G
Genres: Angst
Warning: None
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters: they belong to themselves
Feedback: Always more than welcome!
Summary: Legolas's stream of consciousness
Archive: Legolas_Aragorn_Slash, Aniron, Mirrormere, Melethryn, Legolas in Chains, adultfanfiction. Others, just let me know
Author's comment: This story was inspired by Cyrano de Bergerac by Edmond Rostand, in the song version by the Italian singer Francesco Guccini, entitled Cyrano.
* * *
"Shall I describe it to you? Or would you like me to find you a box?"
Good, my friend, you are laughing in reply. I know you well enough, Gimli, son of Gloin, to know how much you enjoy the seconds before the fighting starts, and how you cannot wait to begin killing filthy Orcs. I suppose I am a bit like that too. I can feel in the air the tension rising inside each of us here, in the fortress of Helm's Deep. The army of the enemy is enormous and threatening, but I do not think that any of us is scared of dying tonight. I think we are all waiting for our chance to give all we can to defend Middle-Earth, its values, its goodness. My dear Gimly, as usual, we will count how many enemies each of us has managed to kill but, you know, I think I might win this time.
A passion that is stronger than the love of life or the fear of death is burning inside of me, and it has been burning in silence for far too long. A love without hope; a desire without fulfilment. Ever since I met Aragorn the first time, many years ago, I felt for him a love and devotion that surpasses any other feeling either Elf or human could ever experience. I am not being proud: this love has not ever given me any pleasure, only loneliness and despair. I have never confessed my emotions to my beloved, because I know he has a mission in his life that is greater than my feelings for him. I must submit to the will of Ilúvatar. Even if I opened my heart to Aragorn and even, oh gods, even if he returned my love, we could not put ourselves before the salvation and the future of Middle-Earth. There would be no place for us in the unfolding of the destiny of these lands.
I recall with sorrow that I have almost forbidden the dream of this love but, though I know I have no hope, I cannot bring myself to leave this man. When I heard that my father wanted to send my brother to Rivendell to take part to the Council Lord Elrond had called, I offered to go instead. The thought that Aragorn might be there was my motive. Since he had become a ranger, he had got closer to Gandalf the Grey, and if Gandalf was going to be at this Council, there were good chances that Estel would be there too. I could not help taking this chance to see him again. When he pledged himself to the cause of the Ring, I instinctively offered to join him and Frodo. I could not let my love go into such a life-threatening adventure without me. I had to go with him and make sure I was by his side in case he needed me.
Since then, we have been closer: he has been a wonderful friend and companion. If possible, I have learned to love him even more. I have seen him discarding his ranger role and taking more and more the role of a captain, of a king. I am very proud of him, of how he has overcome his fears and faced his fate. I cradle deep in my heart the thought that, maybe, I have helped him a little become the great man he is.
I love without sin, but I love in despair. Being around him for so long has been wonderfully exciting and dreadfully painful for me. I knew I would never confess what I felt for him, not even when he came and opened his heart to me completely, trusting our friendship so much as to share his deeper thoughts with me. I have certainly shown resilience and constancy, but at what price! An unbearable anger has grown inside me. Not against him. Never. It is anger against fate, against unfairness, against myself. I have been able to channel this feeling into fighting, into hatred for Sauron and his Orcs. Still, after every battle, when my fury is spent, my heart aches with emptiness and chill. Nothing could fill it in or warm it up but you, my Love; yet YOU I will NEVER have.
Tonight, here, in Helm's Deep, come forward enemies of the light! Approach these walls, that I can fight you with all my strength and give vent to my anger, my pain, my need. There will be no forgiveness for you, as there is none for me. Go back, you horrible goblins, and you too, Uruk-hay, I do not fear you. Make way! For my mighty anger, I need giant foes. With my bow and arrows I can kill hundreds and thousands of enemies. Tonight, I feel powerful enough to guide the army of Rohan to victory... But it is in my soul that I cannot find the way to salvation, I cannot resign to being a warrior with a frozen heart.
When I feel the weight of being alone, only one thing brings me comfort. In the middle of the night, guided by the light of Elbereth, I sneak on his side. Without being noticed (Elves know how to do that), I sit close to him and spend hours humming Elvish love ballads that I used to hear my homeland. As the night approaches its end, I feel consolation, because I know that real love exists, though only in my own heart. Only my love for Aragorn can save me, that is why I sing of it. I send my sad song through the foliage of the trees, in the depth of the woods, in the bosom of the night. I sing of you, my Love, and me, and the love that has never been. In these moments, I feel that there must be, in Middle-Earth or beyond it, a place where nobody will suffer anymore and where all will be just.
My Aragorn, though my love for you knows no boundaries, I am determined that I will never speak to you about it. The memory of it shall vanish with my songs, in the morning breeze. Being beside you for the rest of your days, sweetest Aragorn, this is all I ask of my destiny. My heart lifts when, after a long day, we all sit around the fire and you look satisfied and happy; when a laugh, like the tinkle of golden bells, comes out of your throat; when you turn your head and our gazes lock. These are the times when I know that I have not suffered in vain.
Not if you always love me as your faithful, ever loyal, friend.
The end
Author: Slesia
E-mail: b.bianchi@sms.ed.ac.uk
Fic Journal: www.livejournal.com/users/slesia/
Pairing: A/L
Status: 1/1
Rating: G
Genres: Angst
Warning: None
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters: they belong to themselves
Feedback: Always more than welcome!
Summary: Legolas's stream of consciousness
Archive: Legolas_Aragorn_Slash, Aniron, Mirrormere, Melethryn, Legolas in Chains, adultfanfiction. Others, just let me know
Author's comment: This story was inspired by Cyrano de Bergerac by Edmond Rostand, in the song version by the Italian singer Francesco Guccini, entitled Cyrano.
* * *
"Shall I describe it to you? Or would you like me to find you a box?"
Good, my friend, you are laughing in reply. I know you well enough, Gimli, son of Gloin, to know how much you enjoy the seconds before the fighting starts, and how you cannot wait to begin killing filthy Orcs. I suppose I am a bit like that too. I can feel in the air the tension rising inside each of us here, in the fortress of Helm's Deep. The army of the enemy is enormous and threatening, but I do not think that any of us is scared of dying tonight. I think we are all waiting for our chance to give all we can to defend Middle-Earth, its values, its goodness. My dear Gimly, as usual, we will count how many enemies each of us has managed to kill but, you know, I think I might win this time.
A passion that is stronger than the love of life or the fear of death is burning inside of me, and it has been burning in silence for far too long. A love without hope; a desire without fulfilment. Ever since I met Aragorn the first time, many years ago, I felt for him a love and devotion that surpasses any other feeling either Elf or human could ever experience. I am not being proud: this love has not ever given me any pleasure, only loneliness and despair. I have never confessed my emotions to my beloved, because I know he has a mission in his life that is greater than my feelings for him. I must submit to the will of Ilúvatar. Even if I opened my heart to Aragorn and even, oh gods, even if he returned my love, we could not put ourselves before the salvation and the future of Middle-Earth. There would be no place for us in the unfolding of the destiny of these lands.
I recall with sorrow that I have almost forbidden the dream of this love but, though I know I have no hope, I cannot bring myself to leave this man. When I heard that my father wanted to send my brother to Rivendell to take part to the Council Lord Elrond had called, I offered to go instead. The thought that Aragorn might be there was my motive. Since he had become a ranger, he had got closer to Gandalf the Grey, and if Gandalf was going to be at this Council, there were good chances that Estel would be there too. I could not help taking this chance to see him again. When he pledged himself to the cause of the Ring, I instinctively offered to join him and Frodo. I could not let my love go into such a life-threatening adventure without me. I had to go with him and make sure I was by his side in case he needed me.
Since then, we have been closer: he has been a wonderful friend and companion. If possible, I have learned to love him even more. I have seen him discarding his ranger role and taking more and more the role of a captain, of a king. I am very proud of him, of how he has overcome his fears and faced his fate. I cradle deep in my heart the thought that, maybe, I have helped him a little become the great man he is.
I love without sin, but I love in despair. Being around him for so long has been wonderfully exciting and dreadfully painful for me. I knew I would never confess what I felt for him, not even when he came and opened his heart to me completely, trusting our friendship so much as to share his deeper thoughts with me. I have certainly shown resilience and constancy, but at what price! An unbearable anger has grown inside me. Not against him. Never. It is anger against fate, against unfairness, against myself. I have been able to channel this feeling into fighting, into hatred for Sauron and his Orcs. Still, after every battle, when my fury is spent, my heart aches with emptiness and chill. Nothing could fill it in or warm it up but you, my Love; yet YOU I will NEVER have.
Tonight, here, in Helm's Deep, come forward enemies of the light! Approach these walls, that I can fight you with all my strength and give vent to my anger, my pain, my need. There will be no forgiveness for you, as there is none for me. Go back, you horrible goblins, and you too, Uruk-hay, I do not fear you. Make way! For my mighty anger, I need giant foes. With my bow and arrows I can kill hundreds and thousands of enemies. Tonight, I feel powerful enough to guide the army of Rohan to victory... But it is in my soul that I cannot find the way to salvation, I cannot resign to being a warrior with a frozen heart.
When I feel the weight of being alone, only one thing brings me comfort. In the middle of the night, guided by the light of Elbereth, I sneak on his side. Without being noticed (Elves know how to do that), I sit close to him and spend hours humming Elvish love ballads that I used to hear my homeland. As the night approaches its end, I feel consolation, because I know that real love exists, though only in my own heart. Only my love for Aragorn can save me, that is why I sing of it. I send my sad song through the foliage of the trees, in the depth of the woods, in the bosom of the night. I sing of you, my Love, and me, and the love that has never been. In these moments, I feel that there must be, in Middle-Earth or beyond it, a place where nobody will suffer anymore and where all will be just.
My Aragorn, though my love for you knows no boundaries, I am determined that I will never speak to you about it. The memory of it shall vanish with my songs, in the morning breeze. Being beside you for the rest of your days, sweetest Aragorn, this is all I ask of my destiny. My heart lifts when, after a long day, we all sit around the fire and you look satisfied and happy; when a laugh, like the tinkle of golden bells, comes out of your throat; when you turn your head and our gazes lock. These are the times when I know that I have not suffered in vain.
Not if you always love me as your faithful, ever loyal, friend.
The end