~*~ A/N: Here it is! The stunning, tear-envoking (I hope!) last chapter of Blackthorne! Actually, there's an epilogue after this, so... read that too! *~*~
Veerle drew near to the orcs, and they looked up, growling, wretched and horrible.
"Where are my children?" she demanded as they advanced on her. She fought bravely, but faltered when the troll attacked her as well. She cried out, hoping anyone could hear her, as she was thrown to the ground.
Loriana squinted her eyes as the band of orcs and trolls came into her view. She signaled for the group behind her to move forward, and they did. Just a moment too late, Loriana saw another group, larger and stronger, of orcs approaching fast from their hiding place. Unable to retreat, Loriana pulled out her sword, prepared to fight to the death, preferably theirs.
Boromir heard her cries for help, and ran as fast as he can, then willed himself to go faster. His legs were beginning to tire and his breath grew short when she finally came into his view. A large troll was looming over Veerle, on the ground. With a cry, Boromir flung himself at it, fighting the creature with only a dagger. He cut into the beast's abdomen, hanging on as it began to thrash him about. With a last war cry, he plunged the dagger deep into the creature's throat, and listened as it wheezed and gasped for it's last breath. With a groan, Boromir let himself fall from the troll. He landed on the ground beside Veerle, and turned his attention to her.
"Oh, Valar," he murmured softly, and knelt by her side.
Loriana watched out of the corner of her eye as those around her fell to the orcs. She continued to fight, the sword of the Blackthorne glimmering with the evening's sunset. Night crept into being, Loriana and a few others holding their ground. One by one, Loriana's comrades fell, until she alone fought the beasts before her. Alone, her against several orcs and a troll. Taking a deep breath, she lunged at them.
Legolas rode hard, reaching Mirkwood by nightfall. Handing the children to his father, he had little time to explain, before he was overcome with the greatest feeling of dread and fear he had ever experienced.
His father felt it as well.
"Go quickly," were his only words, as Legolas turned and commanded the horse go faster than ever before.
Boromir knelt beside Veerle, taking her bloody hand into his. She whimpered, opening her eyes and looking at him through tear-wetted lashes.
"The children," she said softly, and Boromir kissed her forehead.
"Legolas has them, he took them to your father."
"Boromir, I-" she stopped, the pain in her abdomen and, above all, in her heart, becoming to much for her.
"Shh, my sweet," he said softly, feeling his eyes fill with tears.
"We were supposed to have eternity," she said in a whisper, and he felt himself succumb to his emotions, as he wept over his dying wife.
Loriana slashed into the skull of the last orc, and sighed. She glanced about her, the bodies of orcs and men scattered about in bloodied heaps. Ruination. Death. Emptiness. She bent beside an elf who lay dead, a cousin of Legolas'. Allowing but one tear to fall, she closed his eyes and straightened. Then, turning, she walked in the bleak darkness back toward the west, to Minas Tirith, to tell of the loss they suffered that day.
Farimir looked out against the dark sky. The sun had just set, and no word from the company he had sent out earlier in the day. There were only supposed to be a few orcs, perchance a troll or two. But, as the fear in his heart and the absense of any news confirmed, something had gone wrong.
He broke the news to the troops, but not telling them that the Blackthorne had been among the dead. Morale was low enough, and if it was known that their one hope was dead, dying, or in grave danger - well, you see, Farimir had no choice.
Legolas rode back into the City, dismounting from his horse quickly. With a glance around, he approached a tower. Perhaps from there, he could see his sister and her husband, and know if they were all right.
High in a tower of the White City, Legolas stood beside the newly appointed archer Jaspin, who took aim at an approaching creature. It was lone, and he notched an arrow and pulled back on the chord.
"Watch this orc fall," he said to the elf beside him, and let go. The arrow whistled through the air, and hit it's target. Jaspin smiled, proudly as it fell.
Legolas looked out at Jaspin's prey one moment too late to stop him.
"Fool!" Legolas exclaimed, as he all but jumped from the Tower. In the distance, his keen Elvish sight could make out the details of the figure; a lone soldier, returning from her latest battle.
Boromir leaned over and kissed his wife on the forehead.
"I wish I could have given you the world," he said softly, and she shook her head.
"All I want.. All I need," she said, coughing up a bit of blood as her eyes began to glaze over. "Is to hear you say that you love me."
Boromir closed his eyes, tears falling hard on his wife's cheeks.
"I love you with all my heart, and I swear to you - I will never allow another that I care for to die at the hands of orcs. If, by my life or death, I can protect any, I will." Her eyes stopped their movement as she took in her last breaths. "Veerle, I will die a hero for you, that I swear."
Her last breath came out in a shudder, as Boromir placed his hand over her heart. Tears still fell from his misty eyes, and Veerle's gaze froze on her love, her life, her husband. He could no longer feel the sweet throb of her heart.
With a cry, he lifted her limp body from the ground and held it in his arms, his body shuddering and quaking as he sobbed loudly, without care or qualm.
"Veerle, my Veerle. How could I let you go? I love you, and now you're gone from me. What am I to do?" he sobbed, speaking to himself and to Valar. He sat for a long time holding his lost love, and weeping.
Legolas ran down the Tower staircase and through the doors, without saying a word to anyone. He would make it to her in time, he had to. She could not die like this, not without him. Not like this. He ran as fast as his feet would take him, faster than he had ever ran before for anything. He saw her lying there, and fell to his knees as he reached her. An arrow protruded from her chest, just aside from her heart.
"Loriana, thank Valar, I'm in time," he began to pick her up, but she shook her head.
"No, Legolas. I am meant to die here," she said softly, reaching up and taking his hand. "Though I am glad you are beside me."
"Loriana, there's still hope," he said, going to pick her up again. She resisted, and collapsed on the ground.
"No, Legolas. There is no hope. I'm sorry," she said softly, and he looked down at her. She was correct, there was no hope. Blood coated the ground beneath her, and she was turning a pale color, her breath weak.
"Loriana," he said gently, touching his hand to her forehead. She was becoming icy cold. She reached up, grasping his shoulder.
"Here ends the legacy of the Blackthorne," she said, barely above a whisper. Legolas bent his head, letting out a shuddering cascade of tears to the earth beneath him. "I can see - it's so clear," she whispered, hysterical. "You are to save the world, Legolas. You're a hero as well, like me."
"No," he said with a shake of his head, tears still falling from his beautiful grey eyes, dark with sorrow. "No one is like you, Loriana."
She groaned, her hand growing weak on his shoulder.
"Loriana, I love you," he said bravely, and touched her cheek. "I love you more than life itself, more than the forests or the trees."
"I love you," she said softly, and closed her eyes.
Pictures flashed through her mind, of growing up with her father, of her mother, of losing her father. The first time she met Aragorn, the first time she met Legolas. The council of Elrond, her handmaid Raelinda. Aragorn's promise to her to return to Rivendell. Journeying to Gondor, climbing Caradharas. Legolas, oh Legolas, her sweet forbidden love, unrequited and incapable of being. Mirkwood. She would never get to return to Mirkwood, or to Rivendell. She would never get to know love, never have what Boromir and Veerle have. Never.
Opening her eyes once again, she looked up at Legolas with tear-filled emerald orbs, his grey eyes wet with salty tears as well. He leaned down, placing his lips upon hers. She felt she could go on forever in that kiss, if he would only never stop kissing her. She could live if he kissed her.
He pulled away, and the moment their lips parted, her eyes froze and her heart refused to beat. He sobbed over her for a long time, until he heard footsteps approach. He prayed it was an orc, so that he may die in battle.
"Oh no," said Aragorn softly, dropping beside his Loriana, his sister. He took her hand, a tear falling down his rough cheek. Legolas knelt beside him.
"Today is a terrible day in Gondor," Aragorn continued, tears falling from his face and wetting his shirt. "I fear I bring bad tidings. Boromir just returned to the city. Legolas, your sister -" Aragorn did not have to finish this sentence, for Legolas knew in his heart that she was lost as well. Collapsing to the ground, laying with his face buried in the sand, Legolas wept and sobbed for a great deal of time, long after Aragorn had lifted Loriana and carried her back to Minas Tirith. He lay there underneath the stars, crying to Valar, why he had been spared when the two he cared for most taken? The only answer came back in Loriana's words, haunting him.
"You are to save the world, Legolas. You are a hero as well, like me."
~*~ A/N: *sniffle* *~*~
Veerle drew near to the orcs, and they looked up, growling, wretched and horrible.
"Where are my children?" she demanded as they advanced on her. She fought bravely, but faltered when the troll attacked her as well. She cried out, hoping anyone could hear her, as she was thrown to the ground.
Loriana squinted her eyes as the band of orcs and trolls came into her view. She signaled for the group behind her to move forward, and they did. Just a moment too late, Loriana saw another group, larger and stronger, of orcs approaching fast from their hiding place. Unable to retreat, Loriana pulled out her sword, prepared to fight to the death, preferably theirs.
Boromir heard her cries for help, and ran as fast as he can, then willed himself to go faster. His legs were beginning to tire and his breath grew short when she finally came into his view. A large troll was looming over Veerle, on the ground. With a cry, Boromir flung himself at it, fighting the creature with only a dagger. He cut into the beast's abdomen, hanging on as it began to thrash him about. With a last war cry, he plunged the dagger deep into the creature's throat, and listened as it wheezed and gasped for it's last breath. With a groan, Boromir let himself fall from the troll. He landed on the ground beside Veerle, and turned his attention to her.
"Oh, Valar," he murmured softly, and knelt by her side.
Loriana watched out of the corner of her eye as those around her fell to the orcs. She continued to fight, the sword of the Blackthorne glimmering with the evening's sunset. Night crept into being, Loriana and a few others holding their ground. One by one, Loriana's comrades fell, until she alone fought the beasts before her. Alone, her against several orcs and a troll. Taking a deep breath, she lunged at them.
Legolas rode hard, reaching Mirkwood by nightfall. Handing the children to his father, he had little time to explain, before he was overcome with the greatest feeling of dread and fear he had ever experienced.
His father felt it as well.
"Go quickly," were his only words, as Legolas turned and commanded the horse go faster than ever before.
Boromir knelt beside Veerle, taking her bloody hand into his. She whimpered, opening her eyes and looking at him through tear-wetted lashes.
"The children," she said softly, and Boromir kissed her forehead.
"Legolas has them, he took them to your father."
"Boromir, I-" she stopped, the pain in her abdomen and, above all, in her heart, becoming to much for her.
"Shh, my sweet," he said softly, feeling his eyes fill with tears.
"We were supposed to have eternity," she said in a whisper, and he felt himself succumb to his emotions, as he wept over his dying wife.
Loriana slashed into the skull of the last orc, and sighed. She glanced about her, the bodies of orcs and men scattered about in bloodied heaps. Ruination. Death. Emptiness. She bent beside an elf who lay dead, a cousin of Legolas'. Allowing but one tear to fall, she closed his eyes and straightened. Then, turning, she walked in the bleak darkness back toward the west, to Minas Tirith, to tell of the loss they suffered that day.
Farimir looked out against the dark sky. The sun had just set, and no word from the company he had sent out earlier in the day. There were only supposed to be a few orcs, perchance a troll or two. But, as the fear in his heart and the absense of any news confirmed, something had gone wrong.
He broke the news to the troops, but not telling them that the Blackthorne had been among the dead. Morale was low enough, and if it was known that their one hope was dead, dying, or in grave danger - well, you see, Farimir had no choice.
Legolas rode back into the City, dismounting from his horse quickly. With a glance around, he approached a tower. Perhaps from there, he could see his sister and her husband, and know if they were all right.
High in a tower of the White City, Legolas stood beside the newly appointed archer Jaspin, who took aim at an approaching creature. It was lone, and he notched an arrow and pulled back on the chord.
"Watch this orc fall," he said to the elf beside him, and let go. The arrow whistled through the air, and hit it's target. Jaspin smiled, proudly as it fell.
Legolas looked out at Jaspin's prey one moment too late to stop him.
"Fool!" Legolas exclaimed, as he all but jumped from the Tower. In the distance, his keen Elvish sight could make out the details of the figure; a lone soldier, returning from her latest battle.
Boromir leaned over and kissed his wife on the forehead.
"I wish I could have given you the world," he said softly, and she shook her head.
"All I want.. All I need," she said, coughing up a bit of blood as her eyes began to glaze over. "Is to hear you say that you love me."
Boromir closed his eyes, tears falling hard on his wife's cheeks.
"I love you with all my heart, and I swear to you - I will never allow another that I care for to die at the hands of orcs. If, by my life or death, I can protect any, I will." Her eyes stopped their movement as she took in her last breaths. "Veerle, I will die a hero for you, that I swear."
Her last breath came out in a shudder, as Boromir placed his hand over her heart. Tears still fell from his misty eyes, and Veerle's gaze froze on her love, her life, her husband. He could no longer feel the sweet throb of her heart.
With a cry, he lifted her limp body from the ground and held it in his arms, his body shuddering and quaking as he sobbed loudly, without care or qualm.
"Veerle, my Veerle. How could I let you go? I love you, and now you're gone from me. What am I to do?" he sobbed, speaking to himself and to Valar. He sat for a long time holding his lost love, and weeping.
Legolas ran down the Tower staircase and through the doors, without saying a word to anyone. He would make it to her in time, he had to. She could not die like this, not without him. Not like this. He ran as fast as his feet would take him, faster than he had ever ran before for anything. He saw her lying there, and fell to his knees as he reached her. An arrow protruded from her chest, just aside from her heart.
"Loriana, thank Valar, I'm in time," he began to pick her up, but she shook her head.
"No, Legolas. I am meant to die here," she said softly, reaching up and taking his hand. "Though I am glad you are beside me."
"Loriana, there's still hope," he said, going to pick her up again. She resisted, and collapsed on the ground.
"No, Legolas. There is no hope. I'm sorry," she said softly, and he looked down at her. She was correct, there was no hope. Blood coated the ground beneath her, and she was turning a pale color, her breath weak.
"Loriana," he said gently, touching his hand to her forehead. She was becoming icy cold. She reached up, grasping his shoulder.
"Here ends the legacy of the Blackthorne," she said, barely above a whisper. Legolas bent his head, letting out a shuddering cascade of tears to the earth beneath him. "I can see - it's so clear," she whispered, hysterical. "You are to save the world, Legolas. You're a hero as well, like me."
"No," he said with a shake of his head, tears still falling from his beautiful grey eyes, dark with sorrow. "No one is like you, Loriana."
She groaned, her hand growing weak on his shoulder.
"Loriana, I love you," he said bravely, and touched her cheek. "I love you more than life itself, more than the forests or the trees."
"I love you," she said softly, and closed her eyes.
Pictures flashed through her mind, of growing up with her father, of her mother, of losing her father. The first time she met Aragorn, the first time she met Legolas. The council of Elrond, her handmaid Raelinda. Aragorn's promise to her to return to Rivendell. Journeying to Gondor, climbing Caradharas. Legolas, oh Legolas, her sweet forbidden love, unrequited and incapable of being. Mirkwood. She would never get to return to Mirkwood, or to Rivendell. She would never get to know love, never have what Boromir and Veerle have. Never.
Opening her eyes once again, she looked up at Legolas with tear-filled emerald orbs, his grey eyes wet with salty tears as well. He leaned down, placing his lips upon hers. She felt she could go on forever in that kiss, if he would only never stop kissing her. She could live if he kissed her.
He pulled away, and the moment their lips parted, her eyes froze and her heart refused to beat. He sobbed over her for a long time, until he heard footsteps approach. He prayed it was an orc, so that he may die in battle.
"Oh no," said Aragorn softly, dropping beside his Loriana, his sister. He took her hand, a tear falling down his rough cheek. Legolas knelt beside him.
"Today is a terrible day in Gondor," Aragorn continued, tears falling from his face and wetting his shirt. "I fear I bring bad tidings. Boromir just returned to the city. Legolas, your sister -" Aragorn did not have to finish this sentence, for Legolas knew in his heart that she was lost as well. Collapsing to the ground, laying with his face buried in the sand, Legolas wept and sobbed for a great deal of time, long after Aragorn had lifted Loriana and carried her back to Minas Tirith. He lay there underneath the stars, crying to Valar, why he had been spared when the two he cared for most taken? The only answer came back in Loriana's words, haunting him.
"You are to save the world, Legolas. You are a hero as well, like me."
~*~ A/N: *sniffle* *~*~
