A/N sooo to anyone that happened to be anticipating my Silmarillion fic, I have NOT abandoned it. I just reread it and HATED it AND there were alot of mistakes:(( I guess I was distracted when I was editing or something because it was really bad:(Anyways, here's my story
Legolas choked back a sob, his breath coming in gasps as the pain and trauma settled in deep. Dragging his battered and weary body back to the remnants of their camp, he shakily reached for his cloak, pulling it over his exposed form.
As a tear trickled down his dirtied and bloodied face, he succumbed to exhaustion and hurt and let the blessed dark of unconsciousness claim him.
Aragorn made his way steadily towards the camp, holding an armful of firewood against his left side and two unfortunate rabbits in his right hand.
He knew Legolas wouldn't like the sight of dead rabbits, so he planned on making quick work of those. Speeding up slightly at the thought of Legolas alone with the ranger Brodda, his stomach unexplainedly clenched.
He'd never fully trusted the man of course, but he hadn't realized anything particularly off about him the way Legolas seemed to have. Aragorn had gone in search of food and fuel though, trusting Legolas' fighting skills to protect him from any harm that might come their way. But now he had a bad feeling, and the closer he got, the stronger it got. Breaking into a slight jog, he cursed inwardly at the thought of anything happening to Legolas.
He will be okay. He thought to himself. He is Legolas.As he approached the camp, he gasped as the signs of a previous struggle came clearly into view. Dropping the firewood and hares he rushed towards what had once been their camp, and was now just a mess of bedrolls and baggage.
Has someone ransacked it?
"Legolas!" He yelled, his panic skyrocketing as the only answer was a mocking silence.
Frantically running towards the still smoking fire pit, he gasped as he caught sight of the lump only feet away.
Sucking in his breath, he ran quickly towards it, praying to Illuvatar that it wasn't Legolas.
Dropping to his knees, his stomach flipped as the white-blonde hair could be seen in the dying light, with unmistakable streaks of red.
"Legolas," He breathed. "no."