Chapter 11:
The rest of the trip to Minas Tirith was uneventful as Gandalf had placed a protective guard over them. The hobbits had wondered at what magic it was, and, laughing, Aragorn had explained that if that was magic, Legolas then used it constantly. The hobbits then proceeded to bug the elf until Aragorn begrudgingly explained that all Legolas did when he sand was to ask strength or peace from the land. The hobbits were slightly disappointed.
Finally, the day came when Minas Tirith was in sight. The former panicle of man was abandon. Most people had left it for the main city of Gondor, which Aragorn had moved farther east to let the remaining elves have their peace.
As soon as the tower was in sight, Arod stopped dead and refused to move forward, despite Legolas's elvish pleas. The elf growled and turned to Aragorn.
"I was fine on the paths of the Dead, only now does he fear." The rest of the fellowship chuckled, though it caused dread to fester in Aragorn's heart. "Pel, Arod. [Go Arod]. Pel, pel." He nudged the horse forward, and Arod reared. Legolas, being that all elves rode without saddles, lost his grip on the horse and found freefall, only to land on his knees. He looked slightly alarmed, especially as Arod continued to buck, almost stepping on him. Aragorn reached out and yanked the startled elf out of harm's way.
"Legolas, what is wrong?" He tried to follow the elf's gaze and also froze. "Were they not ill?" Standing at the tower, only about thirty feet away, were two figures. Two very familiar figures. "Aren't they ill?"
" Daro, raindair. [Halt, wanderers]." Spoke the first, her voice rang clear, but had a hard edge to it. A slight whimper sounded from Legolas; it was a sound of hurt and worry.
"she is not right… she is not right…" His voice broke, and the normally stoic (though that had changed in the past week) elf's face showed sadness and pain. Gimli stared at the elf in obvious surprise.
"Crazy elf?" He frowned when he received no reply. 'Legolas, what's wrong?" The dwarf started forward, but an arrow landed in the ground inches from his boot.
"She said halt, dwarf." A second voice said, glaring with contempt at the son of Glóin. "Now, who sent you to this land? You are trespassing in the Dark Lord's realm. Name yourselves or face death." The male finished, raising his bow in sight. Pippin suddenly recognized the two.
"Nazglas! Angelonus! How ya been? What'cha doin_" the youngest of the hobbits found himself on the ground, Legolas over him. He might have felt awkward if it wasn't for the fact the elf had taken an arrow for him. Pain was etched on the prince's face, but Pip had the feeling it was not physical; Elves had a good tolerance for pain. Nazglas had been the one to fire the arrow. "Legoly, what happened to them?" Legolas ignored him. He stood, locking eyes with Nazglas and fingering the arrow in his side, almost at his hip. Heart level to the hobbit. The shot had been meant to kill. Without so much as a blink, he ripped it out. Silver blood gushed forth suddenly, before his hand stopped it.
He was studying the twins carefully: their skin was now completely blue/gray. And their eyes were amber, not to mention blank. Legolas felt the familiar darkness he associated with orcs at the edge of his mind. But, that couldn't be.
"Ai." He said. 'Alas." The elf's eyes turned back to the company. "They have_"
"Tir-eth! [watch out!]" Gandalf yelled, a harsh wind picking up. Legolas turned in time to see Angelonus raise his sword. Before the hilt crashed into his skull, Legolas saw a flicker of pain in his assailant's eyes. As he sank into unconsciousness, he heard the faintest of whispers:
"Im dim le. [I'm sad to thee.]"
The rest of the trip to Minas Tirith was uneventful as Gandalf had placed a protective guard over them. The hobbits had wondered at what magic it was, and, laughing, Aragorn had explained that if that was magic, Legolas then used it constantly. The hobbits then proceeded to bug the elf until Aragorn begrudgingly explained that all Legolas did when he sand was to ask strength or peace from the land. The hobbits were slightly disappointed.
Finally, the day came when Minas Tirith was in sight. The former panicle of man was abandon. Most people had left it for the main city of Gondor, which Aragorn had moved farther east to let the remaining elves have their peace.
As soon as the tower was in sight, Arod stopped dead and refused to move forward, despite Legolas's elvish pleas. The elf growled and turned to Aragorn.
"I was fine on the paths of the Dead, only now does he fear." The rest of the fellowship chuckled, though it caused dread to fester in Aragorn's heart. "Pel, Arod. [Go Arod]. Pel, pel." He nudged the horse forward, and Arod reared. Legolas, being that all elves rode without saddles, lost his grip on the horse and found freefall, only to land on his knees. He looked slightly alarmed, especially as Arod continued to buck, almost stepping on him. Aragorn reached out and yanked the startled elf out of harm's way.
"Legolas, what is wrong?" He tried to follow the elf's gaze and also froze. "Were they not ill?" Standing at the tower, only about thirty feet away, were two figures. Two very familiar figures. "Aren't they ill?"
" Daro, raindair. [Halt, wanderers]." Spoke the first, her voice rang clear, but had a hard edge to it. A slight whimper sounded from Legolas; it was a sound of hurt and worry.
"she is not right… she is not right…" His voice broke, and the normally stoic (though that had changed in the past week) elf's face showed sadness and pain. Gimli stared at the elf in obvious surprise.
"Crazy elf?" He frowned when he received no reply. 'Legolas, what's wrong?" The dwarf started forward, but an arrow landed in the ground inches from his boot.
"She said halt, dwarf." A second voice said, glaring with contempt at the son of Glóin. "Now, who sent you to this land? You are trespassing in the Dark Lord's realm. Name yourselves or face death." The male finished, raising his bow in sight. Pippin suddenly recognized the two.
"Nazglas! Angelonus! How ya been? What'cha doin_" the youngest of the hobbits found himself on the ground, Legolas over him. He might have felt awkward if it wasn't for the fact the elf had taken an arrow for him. Pain was etched on the prince's face, but Pip had the feeling it was not physical; Elves had a good tolerance for pain. Nazglas had been the one to fire the arrow. "Legoly, what happened to them?" Legolas ignored him. He stood, locking eyes with Nazglas and fingering the arrow in his side, almost at his hip. Heart level to the hobbit. The shot had been meant to kill. Without so much as a blink, he ripped it out. Silver blood gushed forth suddenly, before his hand stopped it.
He was studying the twins carefully: their skin was now completely blue/gray. And their eyes were amber, not to mention blank. Legolas felt the familiar darkness he associated with orcs at the edge of his mind. But, that couldn't be.
"Ai." He said. 'Alas." The elf's eyes turned back to the company. "They have_"
"Tir-eth! [watch out!]" Gandalf yelled, a harsh wind picking up. Legolas turned in time to see Angelonus raise his sword. Before the hilt crashed into his skull, Legolas saw a flicker of pain in his assailant's eyes. As he sank into unconsciousness, he heard the faintest of whispers:
"Im dim le. [I'm sad to thee.]"