Alright! Thanks to all the nice people that reviewed, I've decided to go
ahead and continue. Thank you all who encouraged me! I even have a few new
ideas now. Thanks for the inspiration, you guys are the best!
At any rate, for the people who doubt Legolas could survive a slit throat, I just want to point out that, depending on how deep the cut is, he could make it. I wanted to show that the cut was not so deep. but that just wouldn't fit any where in this chapter. Maybe the next.? You never know.
Enjoy!
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Those That Wander
Chapter 2
Now in Minas Tirith, Spring had finally felled the Winter and sprung forth in all his glory. In much the same way, Aragorn finally revealed himself as the King of Gondor. The darkness surrounding the city had fallen, and the Star shown down upon it. The King had returned, and ever shall he remain.
Aragorn, lovingly called Ellesar by his people, had spent the first few days of his reign overseeing the rebuilding of the City, redefining the boundaries of his kingdom, and visiting the families of those who had fallen in the war. It was a grim task, but necessary, as it set his grip on the kingdom more firmly. It helped if the people knew who their lord was.
And yet, not all of his work was so disconsolate. The realm of Sauron had been destroyed, never to assail the free peoples of the world again. The Ring-bearer and his servant had accomplished their mission, and returned safely. Aragorn made sure they were held in the appropriate esteem. And, more dear and closer to his heart, his beloved Arwen was coming to take his hand in marriage, by the grace of her good father, Elrond.
Just when Aragorn thought he had already seen the Sun, he realized he hadn't even been looking at the sky. How wonderful he felt! He never imagined he could have this kind of joy. Was this a dream, or was it for real?
He stood now in a garden of Minas Tirith, where blossomed now the White Tree, descendant of Nimloth. Its white flowers opened in the morning, and faced it the king. Even the tree seemed to sense his joy, its branches dancing elegantly with each gentle breeze. He regarded it in silence, as he reflected on the many beautiful, wonderful things that had seemingly fallen right into the palm of his hand.
As he pondered these things, Gimli the Dwarf came and stood silently beside him. Aragorn smiled down at him.
"Friend Gimli, you know you always have permission to speak in my presence."
"It most certainly isn't that Aragorn. You are not my lord. It's just that you seemed to be lost in some deep thought."
Aragorn laughed. "And I was. I rarely have any time to myself these days."
"I'd hate to overburden you further."
"Nonsense. What do you need?"
"Nothing, save the comfort of your thoughts."
"What is wrong?"
"It is nothing but a feeling. I feel almost foolish telling you this, but it's as if an unfriendly eye has been watching us."
Anyone else might have laughed at the dwarf, but Aragorn knew better than to ignore the instincts of any creature, no matter the stature. Still.
"That is indeed a strange thing to hear from a dwarf." Commented Aragorn. "I might expect something of the sort from Legolas."
"That concerns me also." Gimli said, with a shake of his head. "The time for Legolas' return has not yet passed, but this feeling that something might've happened to him."
Aragorn set his chin and closed his eyes. Those words had unsettled him, though his own doubt was great. It didn't seem possible that anything could go wrong. But it couldn't hurt to go check on Legolas. It might even be fun to see how irritated Legolas would get to see their unnatural wariness.
"Would it ease your heart, Master Gimli, if we went in search of him?"
Gimli nodded. "And if you think no better of it, than I say, let's be off! Let's take our weapons, and be quick! Every moment we tarry works against us, I forebode."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Legolas was trapped, lost in an unawakeable consciousness. The darkness gripped him, refusing to release him from its clutches. It was as though his repose was a being in itself, holding him close. Legolas subconsciously fought it. He had to wake up!
"You can't expect to win."
Legolas wasn't sure at first whether it was a voice or simply the wind. He decided to concentrate on his being. Maybe he could break into consciousness.
"Give up." The voice spoke again.
"What do you want with me?" Legolas asked it.
"Not you, Elf." The ominous voice spoke again. Legolas gave an involuntary shiver as the message seemed to echo around him.
"Who then?" Legolas asked. He did not like the idea that he was being used as a snare for someone. To him, it was cowardice; almost as horrible as the ignominy of being the chosen pawn. The answer to his question was a cold, musky silence, which was not an encouragement.
Legolas struggled even more now. He felt as though there were some unaccomplished task for him to perform. He had to get up somehow and warn this person so connected with himself, before it was too late!
But the stiffness that held him earlier was ever relentless, and held him still. The spell bound upon him so heavily, he was nearly incapable of voluntary movement. He thought though, that while he had his strength and determination, he could fight it. He had to. Not only his life depended on it!
A cold mist seemed to brush against the left side of his body, both pushing and pulling him in a strange fashion. It confused him, as well as the soreness in his throat. His memory failed him, and his breath came in slow gasps. Soon, he felt as though he'd have to fight for even that.
Finally, though it seemed as if he had fought for hours, he was able to open his eyes. Most of his trials at once became clear. The tide had risen with the waning day, as one who rejoices the sight of a dying entity, and was beginning to brush over him. The mercurial ocean nipped at him greedily, an Elvish trinket to feed its murky depths. It was reddish tinge, red, he realized, from his own blood.
It occurred to him, as he gazed at his blood traveling with the happy salt foam, that strange were the many things he had taken for granted. The simple ability to move, to breath, to live! He had seen many battles and passed through many dangers without so much as a scratch. As an Elf, he faced mortality as one would a myth. How real it all seemed now!
Even as he pondered this, he became aware of two beings approaching him.
"Behold! He comes now." The voice interjected again. Legolas moved his head, though it pained him, to see Gimli and Aragorn. They had seen him, and were running towards him. Lurking in the shadow of a rock ledge a distance behind them, was yet another dark figure. This figure lifted his hand, and giving Legolas a terrible look, set a finger to his pursed lips.
Legolas wouldn't have it.
Aragorn reached him first and knelt down beside him. He took Legolas by both shoulders and lifted him somewhat.
"Legolas! Are you awake? What happened?"
One word. One word would've been enough to warn Aragorn of the danger. But the word stuck in his throat as his consciousness ebbed. It was as if the being knew what he was trying to do. Legolas felt as if he was leaving himself, the darkness craved him once again.
Legolas watched as the creature pulled out a bow and arrow. He aimed it straight for Aragorn's heart. Legolas could tell, even from this distance that the arrow wouldn't miss. The one word that could save his friend had been caught in his throat.
Words will not serve. Actions must do instead. Legolas reached up slowly and wrapped his arms around Aragorn's neck. Just as The arrow left its string, Legolas pulled Aragorn to the ground with him. Aragorn lost his balance and landed on top of Legolas. The arrow soared over both of them.
Aragorn was alright, for now. But Legolas lost consciousness before he could make sure.
At any rate, for the people who doubt Legolas could survive a slit throat, I just want to point out that, depending on how deep the cut is, he could make it. I wanted to show that the cut was not so deep. but that just wouldn't fit any where in this chapter. Maybe the next.? You never know.
Enjoy!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Those That Wander
Chapter 2
Now in Minas Tirith, Spring had finally felled the Winter and sprung forth in all his glory. In much the same way, Aragorn finally revealed himself as the King of Gondor. The darkness surrounding the city had fallen, and the Star shown down upon it. The King had returned, and ever shall he remain.
Aragorn, lovingly called Ellesar by his people, had spent the first few days of his reign overseeing the rebuilding of the City, redefining the boundaries of his kingdom, and visiting the families of those who had fallen in the war. It was a grim task, but necessary, as it set his grip on the kingdom more firmly. It helped if the people knew who their lord was.
And yet, not all of his work was so disconsolate. The realm of Sauron had been destroyed, never to assail the free peoples of the world again. The Ring-bearer and his servant had accomplished their mission, and returned safely. Aragorn made sure they were held in the appropriate esteem. And, more dear and closer to his heart, his beloved Arwen was coming to take his hand in marriage, by the grace of her good father, Elrond.
Just when Aragorn thought he had already seen the Sun, he realized he hadn't even been looking at the sky. How wonderful he felt! He never imagined he could have this kind of joy. Was this a dream, or was it for real?
He stood now in a garden of Minas Tirith, where blossomed now the White Tree, descendant of Nimloth. Its white flowers opened in the morning, and faced it the king. Even the tree seemed to sense his joy, its branches dancing elegantly with each gentle breeze. He regarded it in silence, as he reflected on the many beautiful, wonderful things that had seemingly fallen right into the palm of his hand.
As he pondered these things, Gimli the Dwarf came and stood silently beside him. Aragorn smiled down at him.
"Friend Gimli, you know you always have permission to speak in my presence."
"It most certainly isn't that Aragorn. You are not my lord. It's just that you seemed to be lost in some deep thought."
Aragorn laughed. "And I was. I rarely have any time to myself these days."
"I'd hate to overburden you further."
"Nonsense. What do you need?"
"Nothing, save the comfort of your thoughts."
"What is wrong?"
"It is nothing but a feeling. I feel almost foolish telling you this, but it's as if an unfriendly eye has been watching us."
Anyone else might have laughed at the dwarf, but Aragorn knew better than to ignore the instincts of any creature, no matter the stature. Still.
"That is indeed a strange thing to hear from a dwarf." Commented Aragorn. "I might expect something of the sort from Legolas."
"That concerns me also." Gimli said, with a shake of his head. "The time for Legolas' return has not yet passed, but this feeling that something might've happened to him."
Aragorn set his chin and closed his eyes. Those words had unsettled him, though his own doubt was great. It didn't seem possible that anything could go wrong. But it couldn't hurt to go check on Legolas. It might even be fun to see how irritated Legolas would get to see their unnatural wariness.
"Would it ease your heart, Master Gimli, if we went in search of him?"
Gimli nodded. "And if you think no better of it, than I say, let's be off! Let's take our weapons, and be quick! Every moment we tarry works against us, I forebode."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Legolas was trapped, lost in an unawakeable consciousness. The darkness gripped him, refusing to release him from its clutches. It was as though his repose was a being in itself, holding him close. Legolas subconsciously fought it. He had to wake up!
"You can't expect to win."
Legolas wasn't sure at first whether it was a voice or simply the wind. He decided to concentrate on his being. Maybe he could break into consciousness.
"Give up." The voice spoke again.
"What do you want with me?" Legolas asked it.
"Not you, Elf." The ominous voice spoke again. Legolas gave an involuntary shiver as the message seemed to echo around him.
"Who then?" Legolas asked. He did not like the idea that he was being used as a snare for someone. To him, it was cowardice; almost as horrible as the ignominy of being the chosen pawn. The answer to his question was a cold, musky silence, which was not an encouragement.
Legolas struggled even more now. He felt as though there were some unaccomplished task for him to perform. He had to get up somehow and warn this person so connected with himself, before it was too late!
But the stiffness that held him earlier was ever relentless, and held him still. The spell bound upon him so heavily, he was nearly incapable of voluntary movement. He thought though, that while he had his strength and determination, he could fight it. He had to. Not only his life depended on it!
A cold mist seemed to brush against the left side of his body, both pushing and pulling him in a strange fashion. It confused him, as well as the soreness in his throat. His memory failed him, and his breath came in slow gasps. Soon, he felt as though he'd have to fight for even that.
Finally, though it seemed as if he had fought for hours, he was able to open his eyes. Most of his trials at once became clear. The tide had risen with the waning day, as one who rejoices the sight of a dying entity, and was beginning to brush over him. The mercurial ocean nipped at him greedily, an Elvish trinket to feed its murky depths. It was reddish tinge, red, he realized, from his own blood.
It occurred to him, as he gazed at his blood traveling with the happy salt foam, that strange were the many things he had taken for granted. The simple ability to move, to breath, to live! He had seen many battles and passed through many dangers without so much as a scratch. As an Elf, he faced mortality as one would a myth. How real it all seemed now!
Even as he pondered this, he became aware of two beings approaching him.
"Behold! He comes now." The voice interjected again. Legolas moved his head, though it pained him, to see Gimli and Aragorn. They had seen him, and were running towards him. Lurking in the shadow of a rock ledge a distance behind them, was yet another dark figure. This figure lifted his hand, and giving Legolas a terrible look, set a finger to his pursed lips.
Legolas wouldn't have it.
Aragorn reached him first and knelt down beside him. He took Legolas by both shoulders and lifted him somewhat.
"Legolas! Are you awake? What happened?"
One word. One word would've been enough to warn Aragorn of the danger. But the word stuck in his throat as his consciousness ebbed. It was as if the being knew what he was trying to do. Legolas felt as if he was leaving himself, the darkness craved him once again.
Legolas watched as the creature pulled out a bow and arrow. He aimed it straight for Aragorn's heart. Legolas could tell, even from this distance that the arrow wouldn't miss. The one word that could save his friend had been caught in his throat.
Words will not serve. Actions must do instead. Legolas reached up slowly and wrapped his arms around Aragorn's neck. Just as The arrow left its string, Legolas pulled Aragorn to the ground with him. Aragorn lost his balance and landed on top of Legolas. The arrow soared over both of them.
Aragorn was alright, for now. But Legolas lost consciousness before he could make sure.