Disclaimer: I own nothing, not making any money and if you want to sue me then...well, its mean to sue someone with as little money as me!

Author's note: this is a revised version of chapter one cos I hated the version I first put up so much. I hope its an improvement! nothing has changed in storyline, its just that the writing is slightly better and less annoying I think.

That Which Evil Steals

Chapter One:At the Black Gate

All about the hills the hosts of Mordor raged. The sun gleamed red, and under the wings of the Nazgul the shadows of death fell dark upon the earth. Aragorn stood beneath his banner, silent and stern, as one lost in thought of things long past or far away; but his eyes gleamed like stars that shine the brighter as the night deepens. (J.R.R Tolkien – Return of the King)

And so another shone as well, with eyes and with hair so fair it was seen even within the darkness that brought with it death. Legolas fought, and fought hard with blades of silver cutting through the dank and thickened bodies of the orcs. For a second there seemed to be a gap within the ceaseless, desperate battle that surrounded him and his clear sharp elven eyes saw through the tumult and chaos of bodies and war. Aragorn stood with mind elsewhere, and the Elf feared for his friend, that death would stalk and find him idle before his senses returned to place and time.

He set about a fight toward where Aragorn stood in seeming solitude, scything his way through walls of black and evil, until he came to be beside him, and shout his name through the cacophony of sound that rose up around them. Aragorn turned to him and set those shining eyes on others that did shine a brilliant blue, and a smile pulled at the corners of the face stained by time and war.

'Ah Legolas. And so we meet our end side by side, Elf and Man together within the waning of the sun, as the never ending darkness draws near to conquering those brave souls who joined with us in this hopeless slaughter.'

The elf paused in his contemplation of these words to stab into the back of an evil smelling creature who had crept to close to their impossible peace within the horrors of battle, and wipe his now stained blade along the armour of said creature, returning the silver to shining purity.

'I do not yet believe this to be the end, dear son of Arathorn, and nor will I till I lie slain and watch within the Halls of Mandos as the others of my kin join me there.' Aragorn smiled again at the words of the ever hopeful Elf, and gazed around him at the carnage that lay before them both.

'For me, I swore to Frodo that if by my life or death, I could be of service to him, so I would, and this would seem to be the time my death could be of dearest use to him, in his journey toward the fire.' Both of their minds then made way together to the hobbits, stripped of elven cloak and mithril vest, wherever they lay within the ever watchful nightfall of Mordor. And both wished that they could know where those two friends travelled, whether close to success or failure they stood. But Legolas' mind came back over dank lands and foul acid air to the battle field they stood on now, and his sharp eyes caught the sight of a dwarf wielding an axe with careless abandon and blood thirsty rage against the bodies of the enemy.

'And so, I promised I would spend my last breath in the company of the Dwarf but as he seems to be far from that place himself, I too will give my life in service to Frodo in the hope that it will aid him in helping all of fair and threatened Middle Earth.'

Their eyes met again, grey against the luminescent blue, and words and thoughts and love unspoken moved between their minds. Then they turned in unison and held their deadly weapons aloft to glint with what light was unknown and unseen within this foul and acrid place. Aragorn lead with charge of fury and Legolas followed with speed of blade and bow to dance a bitter dance with creatures who knew not the meaning of courage. He slashed and cut and shot with arrows that flew so quick they could not be seen in flight even with the sharpened senses of the Elves, and Aragorn beside him stabbed and slain with power and strength unseen and unmatched within the race of Orc.

Yet for every body that lay black beneath their feet, another soon came to combat with their sword, and in the glimpses the movement of battle afforded them, they could see their friends weary with the sheer weight of numbers that did press towards their blades. And so the Elf began to know that hope had no place within these dreadful lands, and this would truly be the end of Man and Elf and Dwarf together.

And his mind began to drift toward events past, toward safety and the familiar, well trod paths within his home of Mirkwood. He thought of trees that whispered of the ages and sang with stories of the old, and the touch of tender, warmth filled bark beneath his fair skin as he climbed to be at one with wind and stars that hung with undiminished purity within a velvet midnight sky. He thought of green moss, gentle and firm beneath his swift and running feet, and the taste of clear stream water as it ran with gay abandon down his welcoming throat. He thought of Boromir, carried with the wind along the river and down the rushing torrent of the relentless waterfall, and of Haldir, left behind but free from pain and evil in his ultimate sacrifice, having given as much as any man or being in this world can. He thought of home and people, and of places well known, and of those known only once and of those that would be never known at all.

But still he pressed his body forward, quick feet and hands and senses guiding him where thought had fled, leaving his body helpless to the powers of instinct and the giddiness that battle brought near. And within the sounds of metal striking metal, and the screams of man and orc, friend and foe, and strains and grunts of effort and courage, there came a shout through the darkened skies above.

'The eagles are coming! The eagles are coming!' But as he turned to use his fair blue eyes to seek their beauty and the soaring majesty of such creatures, a blow rained down hard upon his head, and he fell toward the foul and bitter earth with no more than a sigh of wistful longing escaping his lips.

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