This was originally supposed to be a long shot, but it became too long of a One-Shot. I figured I'd turn it into chapters so that that way, more people would be compelled to read it instead of it being a twenty five page One-Shot. I thank the lovely author who aided me with this, but for now, she will stay anonymous.

Please read, review, enjoy, and favorite! Thank you all my lovelies!
P.S, the Elvish may not be one hundred percent accurate, as I used a Tengwa'r Translator, but I tried my best. I will post more than one chapter a day and most likely all the chapters today if I can finish my schoolwork in the meantime. Thank you all in advance!

-WingedIceWolf

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN LORD OF THE RINGS OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS

When the Wargs had finally cleared out, Legolas wiped splattered crimson from his mouth, remnant of his last kill. Thankfully, the blood upon his mouth was not his own, but elves hardly ever received injuries. The residents of Rohan had hurriedly rushed to Helm's Deep, guided by Èowyn. Many uttered silent thanks, some still trembling from the attacks, hearts thundering, eyes wide. They were lucky to have made it out alive, but some were not so, and Legolas prayed his companion had made it out alive.

To his dismay, as he turned, he could not catch sight of his companion. He had even searched underneath the Wargs, at least what he could see of them, but found nothing, save the dead bodies of orcs beneath the large creatures. The Wargs' mouths were opened in silent snarls and screams, carmine gushing between fangs and out of wounds upon their bodies. The smell of the freshly slaughtered Orcs and Wargs wafted into the air, carried by the breeze.

Gimli too had found that Aragorn was nowhere to be discovered. He rested upon his bloodied axe, breathing a little heavily. Within the bodies of fallen orcs, one of the riders laughed when Legolas called out for his companion. Gimli had done the same while Théoden too searched for the Ranger, whipping his head this way and that.

Silence. No Aragorn.

Legolas tried again, cupping his hands around his mouth and shouting louder, passing by the body of the laughing orc. His voice carried across the large plain, yet again, he was met with silence. The orc continued to laugh, making Legolas's blood boil at the sound of it. Rushing over to the orc, he hooked his fingers beneath its shoulder plates and glared coldly.

Gimli stepped up to the fallen Orc, brandishing his axe menacingly, gaze narrowed.

"Tell me what happened, and I shall ease your passing," Gimli spat. The Orc continued to laugh, black blood bubbling between its teeth.

"He's...Dead!" The Orc laughed, sneering wickedly. "He took a little-" the Orc paused to cough but continued. "Little tumble off the cliff!"

"You lie!" Legolas growled, but the Orc was not intimidated by the Elf. The laughs turned into chokes and eventually the Orc fell still, clutching at an object within its hand. The Mirkwood Prince immediately spotted the closed hand, prying the fingers of the dead orc open to find the Evenstar.

Legolas gingerly reclaimed the necklace from the orc's hand, staring at it in disbelief. His eyebrows furrowed together, sapphire blue eyes widening, praying what the Orc had claimed was not true. Both the Elf and the Dwarf hurriedly approached the edge of the cliff, peering over rocks and the sheer edge, at the harsh water below.

Théoden hurried to catch up to them, but the three were met with only rapid waters, nothing more for them to see. Legolas rose his head, his keen eyes scouring the river, searching beyond what any human could see. To his horror, he again found nothing but water for miles.

Gimli's gaze fell upon Legolas, not sure how to react or if he should attempt to comfort the Elf. Legolas only stood still, thoughts running through his head. All this felt too surreal to be true, he had to be dreaming it all.

But the more he dwelled upon the matter, the more the Elf came to accept the truth. His companion was gone. His best friend, one of the last few of the Dúnedain, the Heir to the Throne of Gondor, had truly been defeated. And by Wargs, no less.

How could you so easily be defeated by Wargs? It cannot be…

"Get the wounded on horses." Théoden called out to Gamling. The Captain nodded and began doing as ordered. Rohan's King's gaze returned to Legolas and with sternness in his voice, added, "Leave the dead."

Those words struck Legolas hard, he stared in incredulity at King Théoden, but whatever disbelief he carried quickly turned to vexation. How could Théoden simply believe that Aragorn was dead? There was still a chance he was alive!

Was there?

These past few minutes, though they felt like seconds, had made Legolas spin through a whirl of emotions. Rage, confusion, frustration, disbelief, and so many more he could hardly channel. His entire world came raining down upon him. Could he truly live the remainder of his life without his companion? His brother? The one who had helped sustain his soul? He knew Aragorn would one day pass, as mortals did, but never had Legolas believed it would end like this…

"Come." Théoden spoke, placing a hand to Legolas's shoulder before turning and leaving him standing at the cliff's edge.

Legolas stole one last glance at the roaring waters, and followed Théoden, his head hung low, feeling sorrow overwhelm him. Since there were enough horses for the wounded, he and Gimli mounted one of the horses the Riders of Rohan provided, continuing their journey to Helm's Deep.

The whole ride, Legolas kept his eyes to the road, not wanting to look back. Just the very knowledge of his companion's death made Legolas's heart ache and even more grief wash over him. He tried to listen to the thundering of hooves and the heavy breathing of the galloping horses, hoping it could drown out the constant thought of Aragorn.

Finally, the fortress of Helm's Deep was visible. It was a small fortress, but the walls stretching from it were of a fair size. Helm's Deep was built within a mountainside, the gate at the top of a hill of sorts, being accessible by a stone ramp. The group trotted to the gate, pushing it open with the cries of, "Make way for the King! Make way for Théoden! Make way for the King!"

Èowyn rushed to meet the riders. "So few..." She frowned, her grey-green eyes searching the group, then landing yet again upon Théoden. "So few of you have returned."

Théoden looked down, releasing a deep exhale. "Our people are safe. We have paid for it with many lives."

He sighed deeply, starting up the stairway. The niece of Théoden allowed her eyes to roam over the men again, seeking a particular black-haired man. She met Legolas' grief-filled eyes and was taken aback. It was almost as if in those eyes, she could see a shattered soul, but he would give no explanation. She turned to face the dwarf that had walked up to her.

"My lady..." He greeted sadly, trying to keep his voice unwavering. He bowed his head in slight acknowledgement of her.

"Lord Aragorn, where is he?" She asked cautiously, fearing the worst. Her blonde hair shadowed her eyes, standing nearly still as she held her breath for the answer.

Gimli's voice quivered as he replied. "He fell..."

Èowyn gasped, her large eyes looking to her uncle for confirmation, glistening with fresh tears. Their two gazes met before the King broke the exchange. Èowyn's eyes fell to the cold ground beneath her feet. Théoden stepped up to the battlements.

"What of the ones who cannot fight, my lord? The women and children?" Gamling asked respectfully.

"Get them into the caves," Théoden replied, walking down the battlements, passing a sewage gate. "Saruman's arm would have grown long indeed if he thinks he can reach us here."

Muahaha! There's more to come, I promise you. This is only the beginning! Again, thank you for the amazing Author who has helped me with this fanfiction!

-WingedIceWolf