The smell of blood and sweat filled the room. The quiet sobbing of Arwen's handmaidens was a soft counterpoint to her ragged breathing. He entered quietly, afraid of intruding even though he had been sent for. Aragorn's face told him the truth, the torture in the King's eyes confirmed the whispered rumors. Arwen, their beloved Queen was dying. Legolas knew she had been ill but he wasn't expecting this. He clasped Aragorn's shoulder, offering mute comfort. The green eyes met his, and accepted the comfort offered.
From her bed, Arwen watched the exchange with pain filled eyes. Hatred kindled in her soul; even now at her deathbed, he betrayed her. The bond between Ranger and King was one she never understood nor had she ever truly tolerated it. For the past twelve years she had been the recipient of innuendo, stares and rumors about the two. But no longer....at last she would be free.
"Legolas." she whispered, annoyed that he should see her like this.
"My Queen." he dropped to his knee, head bowed respectfully. But she saw only insolence and triumph there. Her eyes flared briefly in hatred then carefully blanked, she spoke again.
"I would have a moment alone." she said neutrally to Aragorn. He began to protest but she silenced him with a soft, "Please." She watched as he herded everyone out of the room closing her chamber door after them all. Then she turned her gaze, hate-filled once again, to the fair, bright head still bent in supplication.
"Answer me true, Ranger Prince of Mirkwood." she spoke harshly. "Are you lovers?" Her question dropped into the silent room as a stone into a calm pool. Legolas started sharply and his head came up. His stunned blue eyes gazing into hers in shock.
"NO, my Lady!" he protested quickly. She held his gaze. "I love him as my brother." He had known of the rumors and whispers of the court. But he had never thought that Arwen might possibly put credence to them.
"Even now you LIE to me." she hissed in anger. She grasped his arm just above the wrist. "Even as I die you would lie to me."
"No my Queen, I swear, he is as my brother!" he protested hotly. Her accusation cut him to the quick.
"Aragorn is MINE." she snarled. She jerked his arm pulling him off balance. Before he could recover, she had pulled a dagger from beneath her pillows. Put there in hopes of cutting the pain of her labors by one of the maids, now she intended it for another purpose. Moving quickly, she slashed the tender skin of his wrist, cutting through tendon and vein to lay bare the bone. Legolas' body jerked in response, his head reeled at the sudden pain. His blue eyes raised from the sight of his blood spilling onto the already soaked coverlet. Mute from shock he could only stare at the woman he had thought his Queen and friend.
"I curse you, son of Thranduil. I give you an eternity of servitude to the blood of Elessar. I deny you your place in Valinor, as you have denied me mine in my King's heart. I take from youthe love you deny. Alone you swear to sleep, then ALONE you shall remain. An eternity of pain, I give to you son of Thranduil. For as long as the blood of Aragorn remains, so shall you be bound to it. Keep it safe, for it will be all that you shall have. This I curse you with." she spat the words into his face, pulled closely to hers. Her voice dripped with hatred as she spoke, her words timed to the dripping of his blood to mingle with hers.
Through the haze of pain and shock, he felt the icy chains of the curse wind their way around his soul. Dimly he realized just what she had done. Blackness reached to claim him and he knew then that he was lost.
They laid Arwen Evenstar to rest in the crypt next to where they would lay her husband and King. The burial was attended by her husband and their children, two boys and a newly born girl-child. A dwarf and three small halflings stood crying silently as the ancient wizard Gandalf prayed for her soul's journey. It was remarkedthat the King's constant companion the Ranger Prince, Legolas was strangely absent. The court whispered that he was overcome with grief at losing his kinswoman thusly, making him perhaps the last Elf in Middle Earth. None but the King and the remaining heroes of the Fellowship knew part of the truth. Knew that Legolas was near to death from the mysterious wound. None knew that if the Elf recovered he would never draw his bow again, that what ever had occurred had maimed him for life. Only Legolas and Arwen knew the truth of what had happened in her chambers. Both keeping the secret perhaps for eternity.
On To Chapter One