A/N Guys, we are coming up on the end. Well, not yet-yet but too soon. :(
Disclaimer: not mine.
Chapter Ten
As he was plunged into the darkness of night, Legolas staggered ungracefully to the ground next to a fast flowing river that roared on past without a care in the world. Hunching over, he cupped his hands in the icy water, splashing it across his hot, sweaty, face as he shivered lightly. Taking a shuddering breath, he huddled in closer to himself and closed his eyes in absolute misery. The shivering began to increase as he remained motionless and he silently urged himself to get up, to start moving. Or at the very least to dip his hands back into the water so he could drink. He needed water, he needed to stay hydrated... No matter how hard he willed them to move, however, they refused to obey him.
"For Valar's sake!" Legolas cursed in frustration, casting his eyes heavenward. "Get up!" he insisted, waging a mental battle with his fatigued body. His mind won at long last, and with straining, slow, movements, he made it back up to his feet. He clutched the makeshift crutch with everything he had, sweat now positively dripping from his face.
"One step, you can do one step," the elf whispered to himself, his mind flashing back to the twins and Aragorn held captive somewhere. His legs buckled and he began to sink back towards the ground but he stubbornly forced his good leg forward. His weight tipped to the side, and he fell forward on his staff, but it did its job and held him upright.
Taking a steadying breath, the prince forced himself to take one more step. The ground began to dance teasingly in front of his eyes, but he paid it no mind. Closing his eyes, he let the sound of the rushing waters guide him. As long as he stayed near the river, he would be fine. It would guide him to a civilization at some point, and in his condition, he was just going to have to hope that they would help him.
He didn't get much farther that night. Already dangerously close to exhaustion, the wood-elf was only able to follow the river for a few hours before collapsing on the bank. Tonight, the pain did not torment him as he had before, but rather remained a constant throb that was annoying, but durable compared to his utter tiredness. The fever had drained what little strength he had, and the instant his head hit the rocky, pebbled, shore he was asleep.
To the silent observer, it was clear that the few hours of rest the prince was getting him was doing him only a little good. The flush of fever continued to creep across his face and his long hair became plastered to him with sweat. He tossed and turned, low whimpered escaping his lips as his fever rose.
Moaning, Legolas flipped over restlessly, tossing his head from side to side.
"Aragorn…careful. Ara-ESTEL…" he whimpered as his eyes flickered oddly underneath their lids. "Burning…no, cold." The elf continued to talk, crying aloud in his sleep as he shifted his injured body too swiftly.
"No, please…NO!" Legolas shot up abruptly, his already pale face blanching drastically. His stomach churned nauseously and he gave a small groan as his glazed over eyes sought his surroundings, his breaths coming in frantic. It took several minutes for the prince to calm himself down enough to remember what was happening, and when he did, he wished that he hadn't. Nothing that he remembered was good, and he felt his heart drop.
"You must keep going. You cannot stop," Legolas swore to himself, pushing his sweat slicked hair back and bringing his crutch back under his arm. Heaving himself painfully up once more, he limped forward, following the river upstream and to Imladris. Only, when he looked down he found his track from the night before. But that couldn't be right. He was almost positive that he had been moving in the same direction the whole time, but he was also positive that Imladris was upstream. That could only mean...
Legolas felt his stomach revolt and bent over as he dry heaved. He had been going the wrong direction, this whole time, and because of that Aragorn and the twin's chances just dropped to less than zero. A cry of pure despair was wrenched from his lips and he let go of his staff, tumbling to the ground to land on his side. How could he? How could he have let his friends down in such a way? How could he have failed them?
He lay there for who knew how long, anger and despair crashing over him in waves At some point, he forced himself to start moving again. He had to tell Elrond, he had to atone for his mistake. His sons were as good as dead because of him.
He repeated this to himself over and over again until the minutes stretched into hours. Stumbling ever forward, he was hardly able to put on foot in front of the other as he followed the river's course.
By late afternoon, Legolas' body had had enough and the fever induced vision began. His inward grief was now guiding his mind. Legolas left the river, following a figment of his imagination off into the woods.
"Wait, wait for me!" he gasped out as he staggered forward. The pain in his leg was almost forgotten and he unconsciously let his makeshift crutch slip to the ground. Aragorn's faithful mare blinked her pooling, dark, eyes at him, begging him to go with her, silently telling him that she had something to show him
"What is it?" Legolas whispered, trying to catch her halter as she lead him further and further into the forest. In the blink of an eye, the horse was gone. Legolas, who had been depending on the horse to steady him, tumbled forward and hit the ground hard. Rolling back over, he groaned lightly. Blood was starting to slowly seep out from his right nostril, but he didn't notice.
"Where did you go?!" he cried out, wincing as he used a tree to pull himself upright once more. "What happened to you?" his voice trailed off faintly as he gazed around for any clue as to where the horse could have gone. He needed to follow that horse! She would lead him to Aragorn, that much he knew.
Staggering further into the woods, Legolas feverishly looked desperately to find what he was looking for.
NOWANDFORALWAYS
Aragorn bent over the river, his gaze focused on the ground as he tried to discern what it was telling him through the quickly fading sunlight. He rubbed his scrubby bread thoughtfully, his eyes darkening.
He had first picked up on Legolas tracks early that morning and had quickly gained on his friend after that. Now he hoped to be only hours behind the elf. This cheered his heart more than he could express in words because it meant that he was alive. It meant that Aragorn hadn't been responsible for his death, at least not yet.
All the day, and the day before as he had run, the gnawing sense of guilt had filled his soul. They had left Legolas, and if the end wasn't to be happy… well, Aragorn didn't want to think about it. All he knew was that once he found his friend he would be down on his knees, begging for forgiveness.
Standing up, Aragorn frowned, his eyes following the uneven, almost pitifully tracks of the elf. They left the river, and disappeared back into the forest, but that could not be right. Legolas knew better than to leave the water, for the river would give him both water and a guide, but here he was doing just that. A sense of dread starting to crawl across Aragorn's mind once more and his stomach clenched with unease. Legolas wasn't well. Something was horribly wrong.
Shifting the packs on his back, Aragorn began to march after the elf in determination. In one hand, he held his sword, just in case, and in the other he held a stick of burning wood he had lighted a while back to guide his way in the ever increasing darkness. He would find his friend; he would fix the mistake that had been made.
NOWANDFORALWAYS
"'Where are you? Where have you gone, my friend?" Legolas called in a coarse tone, swinging around to stare off into the blackness with wide, frightened eyes. "You were just here!" he pleaded, closing his eyes and staggering forward. A hulking tree loomed up at out of the night, directly in his face, and the prince cried out, ducking reflexively. When the tree did nothing but stand tall, and he slowly edged around it.
An owl cried out and Legolas jumped, shielding up against the tree. A second owl answered and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying hard not to panic. When the night remained silent, he tentatively let go and moved forward. His leg dragged almost limply behind him, and he didn't even try and lift it off the ground anymore. The heel of his boot snapped a brittle stick and it cracked like a whip. Crying out once more, Legolas dropped to the ground, rolling into a ball as his feverish mind showed him things that he never wanted to remember.
"No! Please…" Legolas begged the hallucination, panting wildly as he covered his head. The echo of long distance and cruel voices replayed in his mind, seeming so lifelike and real that that Legolas began to frantically scramble back. His body connected roughly with the base of a knotted tree and he clapped both hands over his mouth, stifling his outburst just in time.
"It's not real…" Legolas whispered aloud in a strangely high-pitched voice. It was clear by his wide eyes that he didn't even believe his own words and he flinched, raising an arm to block an imaginary blow that was coming for his head. He gasped raggedly for air, wiping a sleeve across his face to clear the sweat that was building. "'No…"
He lunged forward, attempting to get away, but only feel face first into the dirt. He lay still, letting out a low sob. The ground felt cool against his hot cheek and he closed his eyes wistfully...
Abruptly his awareness vanished and the next thing he knew, he was blinking up at the moon. He did not know if he had slept, or if he had had merely been in some sort of trance but he pushed himself shakily into a sitting position. Shaking his head groggily, he pressed a hand to his brow, trying to stop the earth from spinning out of control. The trees over his head fuzzed together, tilting wildly back and forth.
"STOP!" Legolas shouted, blinking rapidly. This did nothing except make him even dizzier. Scrambling up on his knees, the elf doubled over, clutching at his side. The ground decided to join in the with the merry making of the trees and the prince was forced to squeeze his eyes shut or lose what little was in his stomach. "Just stop..." He had had enough, of both the pain and everything else that was wrong with him at the moment, all he wanted to do was lay down peacefully and die.
"But that would be giving up, and you don't give up," a snide voice from his left stated. Twisting around so fast that he made his head start pounding along with everything else, Legolas gazed with shock at a perfect image of himself. The other Legolas was leaning against a tree, casually swinging one of his twin white knives.
"What—" Legolas gazed up in complete bewilderment.
The other elf cut him off, waving a hand impatiently, "You are imagining me, I am not really here."
"Oh," Legolas said lamely, trying to focus once more on nature as it continued its dizzying waltz, but the fake Legolas was the only thing staying still and the real elf looked at the imaged figure. He could feel his heart pounding frantically against his back and closed his trembling lips tightly.
"You need to find shelter, or go back to the river," the fake Legolas said calmly, jerking the real one free of the daze he had once more been slipping into.
"Too hard…hurts," Legolas murmured, shaking his head slowly. The hallucination laughed, mocking him.
"Too weak! Too weak to live! Too weak to save your friends. To weak to pay for their deaths. Well, you won't survive the night unless you find a way to cool off." Legolas frowned at that. He didn't really want to die, no matter what he had thought before.
"How?" he asked helplessly. The figure leaning against the tree flickered oddly, morphing into a tree and back again.
"Stay awake. Go back the way you came," the figure said calmly, but with an odd sense of urgency, as if knowing that its time was almost up. "Turn around, make for the river. Take—" Legolas blinked and the other Legolas was gone. The real Legolas looked around, his eyes glinting.
He had to leave, he had to fight. He wasn't going to die giving up like a coward. He would stand and laugh in death's face.
Minutes passed as Legolas slowly heaved his body uncooperative body upright and into a hunched, but standing position. Wheezing air in and out, he staggered back the way he had come. He had to reach the river again, he didn't exactly understand why, but he had to do it.
He inched back towards the river, using every fiber in his being to pull himself forward. His tunic began to slowly darken with sweat and a visible v soon formed, but still he kept going. Aragorn needed him to keep going. The twins need him to keep going. He owed them that.
Legolas was so focused on moving forward, that he never noticed the large, gnarled, tree root sticking out of the ground. His good foot caught on the twisted wood and he went down. Hard. To add to his misfortune, he was at the top of a fairly steep downward incline and his fall sent him toppling in a roll down its side.
He landed on the bottom face down and lay utterly motionless. The only sign that he had survived the fall was the uneven, ragged, rise and fall of his shoulders and all too soon, even that stilled. The great prince of Mirkwood was too ill, too exhausted, to force the immense effort it took to breathe deeply.
I'm dying, Legolas thought simply. Mentally, he attempted to gather the effort needed to stand again, but it was useless. The very air he fought to bring to his lungs was scorching hot, and he felt like he had jumped into Mt. Doom herself. His leg hurt like it was being raked over and over again with sharp claws and his stomach wound faired only slightly better.
I don't have long left. I have failed. Legolas allowed his eyes to slip shut, giving in at last to the embrace of darkness. The voices were back again, ringing in his ears. Or at least, one voice was. It called his name over and over again and Legolas worked up the effort to slit one eye open. Maybe it is my mother, calling me home…
A bright light was descending through the darkness towards him and in the bright light, Legolas could just make out a figure. Legolas let out a breath, closing his eyes. A spirit must have returned to take him from his earth and to Mandos halls. Maybe it was his mother, he hoped so. He missed her so much at times…
Legolas slipped into darkness and knew no more.
TBC...
Well, it ain't looking too good for Legolas now does it... Well, in my defense, these stories have a life of their own. I am not totally responsible. :)
Review Replies:
Guest: Haha, yes! Worrying for all of them is probably wise. They are, after all, stuck in a world of fangirls who just love to watch them suffer. :) Poor Elrond, he has so many gray hairs now...seriously, the poor dude. Poor everybody! Than you so much! I am thrilled that you are enjoying it!
Atlantis: And I don't think it has gotten any better either. Hmm. Oh well! We will just enjoy it! Thank you so much! I am thrilled that you continue to enjoy it. :)
Rita Orca: Oh, dude, yes, the eldest always gets into rap. Sadly, that is just how it works. My brother calls it being ageist. :) So yes, I understand! And yes, they had really better hurry now. It doesn't look to good for poor Legolas. Not that it ever does, but, hey, where is the fun in a boring safe life? :) Oh, thank you so much! I appreciate you taking the time to review!
Cousin of Spock: I guess he is in a way going backwards. Or was. It is all for the better, though, because this way we get more angst and we looove out angst. :) I hope it is living up still.:) Thank you so much!