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Summary: What if the battle at Helm's Deep had gone horribly wrong? What if there was no chance for victory? What if he only had one chance to say goodbye? Warning: Character Death! Angst/Tragedy Legolas/OFC

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The sun was setting in the east. Its final warm rays relinquished their claim on the cool stone walls, receding off into the distance. Steadily, night and cold replaced the warmth. They seeped into the fortress and beyond, polluting the minds and hearts of the rows and rows of defenders standing at the battlements.

Man and Elfkind alike stood side by side, bracing weapons of iron, wood, and steel. Faces both too young and too old mixed with ethereally beautiful ones, and countless pairs of worried eyes gazed out onto the steadily darkening horizon. For they all knew full well that soon, that same horizon would be filled with the light of vengeful torches. Angry footsteps would shake the foundations and roars would fill the equally deafening silence. Some looked scared, others anxious, and still others determined. Some looked dazed and hopeless, already accepting their fates. Old men stood on trembling legs and boys who had barely seen their 12th year tried to look brave in helmets that were too big and chain mail that was too heavy. They had been told this battle was hopeless, but they would fight nonetheless. For glory, for death, for honor.

He stood there. Watching. Thinking. Not daring to despair. Not daring to hope. Piercing gray eyes scanned his surroundings. His lips formed a grim line and skilled fingers handled the feathers on his arrow carefully. Suddenly, Wind's gentle breath tangled in his blond tresses and carried to him a foul scent that reeked of Orc. His acute ears picked up a thundering in the distance and eagle eyes noted an orange tinted glimmer in the distance, reminiscent or torches.

They were coming.

His mind dwelled on the impossible numbers. 300 against 10,000. One untrained stable boy for every three or four bloodthirsty Uruk-hai, bred to kill. There was no chance. He recalled his conversation with Aragorn earlier, and he remembered being angry and confused as to why his friend was forcing his men into a hopeless battle. He knew the answer now. It was better that they had the illusion that they were defending their country and their people rather than cowering and accepting their fate quietly. Honor was all that was left now, and death was the only road. They were lucky though, he reasoned. They would end their lives as heroes rather than cowards. And most importantly, they all had had a chance to say goodbye. They knew their loved ones were safe in the caves below. No matter what fate they would come to, they could rest assured that their family and friends were secure.

Not him. All the people he cared about were standing next to him and fighting with him and struggling with him. He could not protect them, he could not save them. The most he could do was to fight alongside them, and hope that Death would not take them away. Yes, they were all there…

Save one.

He wished so much that he could hold her, for one last time. See her smile at him, and hear that tinking laugh of her's. How he wished he could tell her a final goodbye! But he could not. He could not risk her safety. He could not risk—

"Legolas!"

He froze. No, it couldn't be…

"Legolas!" the voice came again.

And then he knew.

He turned around slowly, not daring to believe, and was met by a flushed and lovely Vanadiel. His heart seemed to warm and all his worries and troubles slid away.

"Vanadiel," he breathed, and in two strides, he had caught up to her and enveloped her in his arms. He savored in the feeling of her small hands on his back and breathed in her scent. Gently, he pressed his lips to the top of her head, then held her at arm's distance.

"I thought I told you to stay down at the caves. This is no place for an elleth…you could get hurt."

"I couldn't stay away," she answered, her strikingly green eyes meeting his worried gray ones. "I couldn't leave without wishing you good luck." Legolas smiled at her thoughtfulness, but felt a pang stab his heart. She thinks this is just like any other battle, he thought. She doesn't know that this will be my last.

"Thank you," he whispered back. The thundering of footsteps and a ferocious roaring was growing closer.

"I'll be waiting when you come back. I'll be the first person to greet you, im ber (I promise)." He couldn't take it anymore. He stand seeing her eyes so full of a hope that he could not fulfill. He couldn't bear see the vision of her waiting for him, only to find out that he would never return. He wouldn't pain her more than was necessary.

"Don't," he whispered finally.

"Why?" Her puzzled expression nearly undid him.

"Vanadiel…I'm not coming back."

"Wh...what do you mean?" A small flicker of understanding began to dawn on her, but it was quickly overridden by her overwhelming confidence in Legolas.

I could stop now, he thought. I'm not even sure I can continue without breaking myself.

No fear, he finally thought to himself resolutely. No more fear.

"We're outnumbered, Vana. 300 against 10,000." He saw her eyes grow wide. "It's hopeless, and…I'm not coming back," he forced out. Refusing to believe his words, Vanadiel forged on, even as realization washed over her.

"I-I believe in you…y-you'll come back. I'll w-wait for you. I'll wait for y-y—"

Not being able to restrain the floodgates anymore, Vana dissolved in to silent sobs. When she saw the look in his eyes, she knew. There was no more hope. Not this time.

Legolas engulfed her in his arms once again, feeling the vibrations of her grief that shook her frame.

"Shh," he whispered, stroking her hair gently, "don't cry Meleth nin…" His tears streaked down his cheeks in silent rivulets, dotting the stone ground below. What he would give to hold her like this for an eternity. How many times he had dreamed about her, dreamed about them together. They would share sunrises and sunsets, laughter and tears, joys and sorrows. It was all shattered. Everything had fragmented into a million shards of tainted glass, and his heart bled from the hurt. The only thing he had left to cling onto was her safety and her love. Everything else seemed to fade away into the distance. Honor, glory, power…they all disappeared. Save Vanadiel. She was all there was left.

He gripped her tighter, feeling the tremors of the stomping below his feet and the thundering growl growing ever louder. There was not much time left.

"Must you?" she whispered. His heart clenched. How he wished he could follow her away. How he wished he could flee and take no more responsibility. But curse his loyalty, he could not. He could not let his friends die on the battlements and live with their blood on his hands afterwards. Aragorn, Gimli, Haldir…He could not desert them. No guilt in life, no fear in death. The choice had been made long ago.

"Yes, I must," he replied simply. "Please forgive me," pulling away slightly to look at Vanadiel.

"Legolas…"

"Vana, there's something else that I want you to do." Vanadiel looked at him expectedly.

"Anything, Legolas…anything in the world."

"Forget me." Seeing her look of shocked grief, he cupped her chin softly. "I will not be so selfish to keep your love when I cannot return it. Open your arms to another, Vana, and let your love for me go. Just," he continued, voice breaking, "once in awhile, whisper my name. In the dark of the night, breathe my name to the stars. I will listen. Im ber, I will listen. Then you will hear your name as well…for I will whisper back. Vana, you'll hear…please." The raindrops mingled with tears and they slid down Vanadiel's cheeks.

"I wish I could be here with you," she said, stroking his face. Gently, he took her hand in his own and put it over his chest.

"You will be, Vana….you always will be." Bringing her hand up to his face, he pressed his lips against her fingertips. Suddenly, he felt a strong hand on his shoulder.