Author's Notes: This is my first LOTR fanfiction that I've ever put up
anywhere and it has yet to be proofread so I would really appreciate any
feedback. but as it is my first story, please be kind. Like this story, I
have a lot of others that are work in progress so bear with me. The more
reviews and comments I get, the more I can write and the better the stories
will be. Also, some of the Elvish may be incorrect so I'd appreciate any
help there too. This story is a bit of a mix between book and movie-verse
so there may be a few inconsistencies as well. None of these characters
save for Laurelen, Annuviel, and maybe others I make up are obviously not
mine. I am not profiting from this story so don't sue me!
"//..//" denotes Elvish dialogue
Italics denote dream sequences or flashbacks (also Elvish words)
Synopsis: As the Fellowship of the Ring travels on their quest, none know that Legolas carries with him a grievous heart due to centuries of loneliness and sorrow that nearly killed him long ago. But, in the darkness of a forest overshadowed by Sauron's minions, they meet a light that guides them all to something that shall change their lives and their stories forever. Will it be enough to lift Legolas' heart or only serve to add to its heavy weight?
WHAT STRENGTH IS IN OUR HEARTS By Terra Forever CHAPTER THREE
Legolas was shivering in a coldness that seemed to freeze his entire body. The stinging pain on his face was unlike any other sensation he had ever felt before; nor was the draining of his energy. He fell hard onto the earth and cringed. He wanted so desperately to be warm again but the glint of a blade coming closer in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Despite his weakened state, Legolas tried to avoid the blow with all his remaining strength but it was not enough. He felt a searing pain in his left shoulder that tore everything but the smallest bit of consciousness from his body.
"Legolas," shouted Aragorn.
"Legolas," the others chorused, their heads turning, their voices echoing the surprise and fear in their hearts.
"Lau (No)!" Laurelén ran to the shadow and stabbed it in the side, rewarded by the screech of pain. She pulled out her blade and swung it around her and struck the creature again before it could move to defend itself. With a final cry it began to fall to the ground and she kicked it to the side. Satisfied that it was dead, Laurelén knelt by the wounded Legolas. She saw the knife-like weapon in his left shoulder and she was about to pull it out when he shook his head.
"No," he told her. "It is of the same make as the creatures themselves - as if it is a part of them, an extra limb. It will drain you of all your strength." His voice was but an eerie whisper.
"What would it matter when it may kill you?" Laurelén demanded, ready to grab it when his good hand held her wrist fast. "Legolas!"
"Keep him safe," Gandalf shouted as the others rushed to protect the fallen prince. They fought harder now knowing that defeat was not an option. The Hobbits now took on a fighting strategy that included all four of them so they could use each other's strengths to fight and defend. Gandalf held his staff close to the evil weapon and it suddenly began to disappear from the power of such light. Soon it was gone and the blood from the wound began to flow heavily. Legolas' face became ashen. Even with the absence of the weapon piercing his shoulder, the pain did not lessen. "This is not good. His energy has been drained from him and this wound will bleed heavily until we can have it properly tended to. Even his Elven abilities to heal will not be of little service now."
"You must go," Legolas gasped, swallowing hard. Blood was staining his lips, the red a stark contrast to his ashen face and for some reason, Laurelén 's lower lip began to quiver. She had never seen anyone hurt so badly before, especially not an Elf so beautiful and intriguing as Legolas. Laurelén was determined that he lived. "Let them concentrate on me so you can get to safety."
"No," Laurelén shouted loudly, surprising everyone. Her brilliant blue eyes were filled with wild determination "You are noble, Legolas Greenleaf, but there will be no heroics this night!"
"Laurelén is right," Gandalf told Legolas, a little more calmly but just as hard. "Be strong, my friend, and we will get you to safety - we will all be safe soon."
Legolas shook his head, regretted the action when everything began to spin. "//No, Mithrandir, I will only hinder the Company. Noro!//" He tried to push them away, but Laurelén held fast onto his now frail body.
"We must get him to my mother," Laurelén announced. "She may be able to heal him for she is gifted." The Half-Elf inherited these abilities she spoke of but she was too weak now to help him and she was still learning to control these powers. Only her mother could help him now.
"Where?" asked Gandalf.
"It is to the west. I know it is farther from your destination and a few hours away-"
"Lead the way!"
Legolas was too tired to argue but in his mind he screamed at them to go. He knew that he could not survive this as, slowly, he could feel himself slipping away. I'm sorry, he thought. I've failed the Fellowship. I've failed everyone. Regret filled his heart as well as pain, but his mind and body began to go numb.
"Legolas," Laurelén shouted, trying to get his attention, afraid he was slipping away. Neither she nor Gandalf noticed that the others had finally stopped fighting, their anger, concern, and loyalty winning over the evil they fought.
"Lead the way to your home," Aragorn told her sheathing his sword. In the back of his mind he felt fear gathering for his friend but he would not let it take hold of him. There was still hope. He would not let his friend die so soon, not ever.
Laurelén nodded and as gently as they could, Aragorn and Boromir lifted the Elf, placing him on Bill. Knowing that he carried an injured passenger, a friend, Bill was gentle as possible as he ran but did not slacken his pace as they rushed through the forest. The cries of other shadowy creatures could be heard not far behind them and the Fellowship feared another attack if not by their new foes then by Orcs or other fell creatures.
Legolas could barely sense anything going on around him. He could barely see what was in front of his eyes and barely felt himself being half carried somewhere. Leave me he still wanted to scream. Let me die as the failure that I am. I was never able to save anyone and now I have fallen with those I have lost long ago. Forgive me.
On a trek that would normally take several hours, and despite the care they had to travel in, the Company cut their time nearly in half. Their sense of urgency overcame any other obstacles and the light of the rising sun ahead of them gave them a little hope. At least now no other creature would be attacking them in broad daylight.
"We're almost there," Laurelén announced. Rushing ahead to inform her mother, she jumped and ran with her nimble feet and legs. "//Naneth,// " she cried, bursting through the door.
Having sensed danger and her daughter's wild emotions, Laurelén 's mother was ready to leave before her daughter arrived. Laurelén ran out the door and her mother followed her. They did not get too far when the Company already came into view. Then, just as the sun's rays shown on the Prince of Mirkwood's face illuminating his pale Elven beauty, Laurelén 's mother froze for. "Legolas," she whispered, the name being taken by the breeze and lifted off.
Legolas, hearing his name by a familiar voice as in his dreams and from days of old, lifted his head. His eyes widened when a sunlit face appeared from him as if from a dream. "Annuviel," he breathed softly and then she faded away when darkness finally claimed him and not even the morning rays could bring warmth to his body.
"Quickly, please," Laurelén begged. The two men placed Legolas on a bed in the small cottage-like home and they were asked to leave as Laurelén's mother tended to the Elf. The others waited silently with heavy heart, none able to utter any words. She put her hands over the prince's body and closed her eyes. A soft light surrounded the unconscious Elf and after a few minutes, she slumped forward from exhaustion shuddering from the cold she shared with Legolas. Then she looked at the face not even marred by the look of pain on his face. She gently brushed the hair from his face and touched his cheek softly. "Legolas." She proceeded to treat his wounds for they were no longer shadowed by the evil of Sauron.
When she finished, she stepped outside and told the others that Legolas would be fine but needed much rest and time to recover. She then tended to the others not allowing any of them to do anything but rest. Aragorn argued at first saying he was well skilled in the arts of healing but her heavy gaze won that battle and he was forced to rest. When she tended to him with such great skill and care he was suddenly glad that she had beaten him. The Elf set down the bandages and sighed inwardly when she was finished. She felt exhausted- perhaps more so than the Company. Never before had she done anything of this sort. Never did she feel a life fall onto her shoulders. No, she thought, it is not. But, is it fate that it is the same life I must save?
Aragorn saw the weariness in Annuviel's countenance and he clasped her hands in his. "Thank you, kind Lady, for all your help. We are greatly indebted to you."
"Thank me later when your wounds are healed and your strength has returned, sir," Annuviel shook her head. "Your friend is not yet past the darkness. He must want to live and return to the light." Her words brought uneasiness in Aragorn and especially Gandalf. Both knew that Legolas was not always thrilled to be alive - quite unusual for a relatively young Elf. She looked at the jewel around Aragorn's neck shining brightly. The Evenstar, she thought. Has this mortal caught the favor of the Lady Undomiel?
"Kind lady, what is your name?" asked Aragorn, interrupting her thoughts realizing that after all this time they knew her only as Laurelén's mother. He could see where much of Laurelén's features came from: her long black hair of midnight and fairly dark skin unusual for most Elves, and stature and poise. She looked to be no older than himself, though probably closer in age to Legolas or Arwen. Whatever hardships she faced were invisible on her face but her dark eyes unlike that of Laurelén's held great age.
"Annuviel," came the reply. The female Elf looked at Gandalf and wondered if he would recognize the name but he was more interested in her abilities.
"How came you by this gift Lady Annuviel?" asked Gandalf. "You are half Elven are you not?"
Annuviel nodded. "Yes, I carry the blood of the Firstborn but I do not know what other blood runs through my veins. I do not know of my parentage, I'm afraid. I do not know the origin of this power. Regardless of its origins, I think of it as a gift of Illuvitar."
"I am thankful you have this gift," Frodo told her.
"As am I," smiled Annuviel. I am more thankful than you know, she thought. "Come now, you must all be weary. Please, take rest. I'm sorry there is little comfortable room for all of you here but you are safe; no danger shall come to you here." Though it was hard to believe the Elf considering they lived only in a small cottage surrounded by the dense dark forest with all its fell creatures laying in wait outside, Annuviel's words were still soothing. For the first time in a long while they slept indoors away from the hazards of nature, safe and warm in comparison to their earlier campgrounds. Even thorough the afternoon and evening they slept peacefully while Annuviel and her daughter watched over them recovering the precious sleep they had lost.
"//He will live won't he?//" asked Laurelén, turning from the window. She looked at her mother with a worry Annuviel had never seen before.
"//Of course, dear Laurelén,//" Annuviel smiled kissing her daughter's forehead, forcing her creased brow to relax. "He is among the greatest of this kind. Prince of Mirkwood no less."
"//He invited us to see Rivendell, Lothlorien and Mirkwood . You have been there before have you not?//" Annuviel nodded slowly. "//Was he the Elf you told me of before in your stories? What about the Lady Undomiel? Do you think he knows her?//"
"//I am sure he does for they are both royalty.//"
"//He cannot die.//" Laurelén was sure that her mother wanted to leave the forest. Annuviel never mentioned the idea of leaving, but in her heart, Laurelén was sure that her mother longed to see the bright forests, towering mountains, and clear waters of the rivers she spoke of. Why would she leave all these wonderful places and live here? She spoke mostly of Lothlorien and Mirkwood. Laurelén looked at her mother who was lost in thought. Legolas has changed her somehow, she thought. For better or for worse I do not know. But I feel that this meeting will change us all.
~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~
Thanks for the reviews you guys! Keep 'em coming! But um, sorry this isn't all that great (heck none of the other chapters are either) but bear with me please! Oh and someone link me to some good Elvish dictionaries cause I know that all my Elvish in all my stories will be totally wrong.
"//..//" denotes Elvish dialogue
Italics denote dream sequences or flashbacks (also Elvish words)
Synopsis: As the Fellowship of the Ring travels on their quest, none know that Legolas carries with him a grievous heart due to centuries of loneliness and sorrow that nearly killed him long ago. But, in the darkness of a forest overshadowed by Sauron's minions, they meet a light that guides them all to something that shall change their lives and their stories forever. Will it be enough to lift Legolas' heart or only serve to add to its heavy weight?
WHAT STRENGTH IS IN OUR HEARTS By Terra Forever CHAPTER THREE
Legolas was shivering in a coldness that seemed to freeze his entire body. The stinging pain on his face was unlike any other sensation he had ever felt before; nor was the draining of his energy. He fell hard onto the earth and cringed. He wanted so desperately to be warm again but the glint of a blade coming closer in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Despite his weakened state, Legolas tried to avoid the blow with all his remaining strength but it was not enough. He felt a searing pain in his left shoulder that tore everything but the smallest bit of consciousness from his body.
"Legolas," shouted Aragorn.
"Legolas," the others chorused, their heads turning, their voices echoing the surprise and fear in their hearts.
"Lau (No)!" Laurelén ran to the shadow and stabbed it in the side, rewarded by the screech of pain. She pulled out her blade and swung it around her and struck the creature again before it could move to defend itself. With a final cry it began to fall to the ground and she kicked it to the side. Satisfied that it was dead, Laurelén knelt by the wounded Legolas. She saw the knife-like weapon in his left shoulder and she was about to pull it out when he shook his head.
"No," he told her. "It is of the same make as the creatures themselves - as if it is a part of them, an extra limb. It will drain you of all your strength." His voice was but an eerie whisper.
"What would it matter when it may kill you?" Laurelén demanded, ready to grab it when his good hand held her wrist fast. "Legolas!"
"Keep him safe," Gandalf shouted as the others rushed to protect the fallen prince. They fought harder now knowing that defeat was not an option. The Hobbits now took on a fighting strategy that included all four of them so they could use each other's strengths to fight and defend. Gandalf held his staff close to the evil weapon and it suddenly began to disappear from the power of such light. Soon it was gone and the blood from the wound began to flow heavily. Legolas' face became ashen. Even with the absence of the weapon piercing his shoulder, the pain did not lessen. "This is not good. His energy has been drained from him and this wound will bleed heavily until we can have it properly tended to. Even his Elven abilities to heal will not be of little service now."
"You must go," Legolas gasped, swallowing hard. Blood was staining his lips, the red a stark contrast to his ashen face and for some reason, Laurelén 's lower lip began to quiver. She had never seen anyone hurt so badly before, especially not an Elf so beautiful and intriguing as Legolas. Laurelén was determined that he lived. "Let them concentrate on me so you can get to safety."
"No," Laurelén shouted loudly, surprising everyone. Her brilliant blue eyes were filled with wild determination "You are noble, Legolas Greenleaf, but there will be no heroics this night!"
"Laurelén is right," Gandalf told Legolas, a little more calmly but just as hard. "Be strong, my friend, and we will get you to safety - we will all be safe soon."
Legolas shook his head, regretted the action when everything began to spin. "//No, Mithrandir, I will only hinder the Company. Noro!//" He tried to push them away, but Laurelén held fast onto his now frail body.
"We must get him to my mother," Laurelén announced. "She may be able to heal him for she is gifted." The Half-Elf inherited these abilities she spoke of but she was too weak now to help him and she was still learning to control these powers. Only her mother could help him now.
"Where?" asked Gandalf.
"It is to the west. I know it is farther from your destination and a few hours away-"
"Lead the way!"
Legolas was too tired to argue but in his mind he screamed at them to go. He knew that he could not survive this as, slowly, he could feel himself slipping away. I'm sorry, he thought. I've failed the Fellowship. I've failed everyone. Regret filled his heart as well as pain, but his mind and body began to go numb.
"Legolas," Laurelén shouted, trying to get his attention, afraid he was slipping away. Neither she nor Gandalf noticed that the others had finally stopped fighting, their anger, concern, and loyalty winning over the evil they fought.
"Lead the way to your home," Aragorn told her sheathing his sword. In the back of his mind he felt fear gathering for his friend but he would not let it take hold of him. There was still hope. He would not let his friend die so soon, not ever.
Laurelén nodded and as gently as they could, Aragorn and Boromir lifted the Elf, placing him on Bill. Knowing that he carried an injured passenger, a friend, Bill was gentle as possible as he ran but did not slacken his pace as they rushed through the forest. The cries of other shadowy creatures could be heard not far behind them and the Fellowship feared another attack if not by their new foes then by Orcs or other fell creatures.
Legolas could barely sense anything going on around him. He could barely see what was in front of his eyes and barely felt himself being half carried somewhere. Leave me he still wanted to scream. Let me die as the failure that I am. I was never able to save anyone and now I have fallen with those I have lost long ago. Forgive me.
On a trek that would normally take several hours, and despite the care they had to travel in, the Company cut their time nearly in half. Their sense of urgency overcame any other obstacles and the light of the rising sun ahead of them gave them a little hope. At least now no other creature would be attacking them in broad daylight.
"We're almost there," Laurelén announced. Rushing ahead to inform her mother, she jumped and ran with her nimble feet and legs. "//Naneth,// " she cried, bursting through the door.
Having sensed danger and her daughter's wild emotions, Laurelén 's mother was ready to leave before her daughter arrived. Laurelén ran out the door and her mother followed her. They did not get too far when the Company already came into view. Then, just as the sun's rays shown on the Prince of Mirkwood's face illuminating his pale Elven beauty, Laurelén 's mother froze for. "Legolas," she whispered, the name being taken by the breeze and lifted off.
Legolas, hearing his name by a familiar voice as in his dreams and from days of old, lifted his head. His eyes widened when a sunlit face appeared from him as if from a dream. "Annuviel," he breathed softly and then she faded away when darkness finally claimed him and not even the morning rays could bring warmth to his body.
"Quickly, please," Laurelén begged. The two men placed Legolas on a bed in the small cottage-like home and they were asked to leave as Laurelén's mother tended to the Elf. The others waited silently with heavy heart, none able to utter any words. She put her hands over the prince's body and closed her eyes. A soft light surrounded the unconscious Elf and after a few minutes, she slumped forward from exhaustion shuddering from the cold she shared with Legolas. Then she looked at the face not even marred by the look of pain on his face. She gently brushed the hair from his face and touched his cheek softly. "Legolas." She proceeded to treat his wounds for they were no longer shadowed by the evil of Sauron.
When she finished, she stepped outside and told the others that Legolas would be fine but needed much rest and time to recover. She then tended to the others not allowing any of them to do anything but rest. Aragorn argued at first saying he was well skilled in the arts of healing but her heavy gaze won that battle and he was forced to rest. When she tended to him with such great skill and care he was suddenly glad that she had beaten him. The Elf set down the bandages and sighed inwardly when she was finished. She felt exhausted- perhaps more so than the Company. Never before had she done anything of this sort. Never did she feel a life fall onto her shoulders. No, she thought, it is not. But, is it fate that it is the same life I must save?
Aragorn saw the weariness in Annuviel's countenance and he clasped her hands in his. "Thank you, kind Lady, for all your help. We are greatly indebted to you."
"Thank me later when your wounds are healed and your strength has returned, sir," Annuviel shook her head. "Your friend is not yet past the darkness. He must want to live and return to the light." Her words brought uneasiness in Aragorn and especially Gandalf. Both knew that Legolas was not always thrilled to be alive - quite unusual for a relatively young Elf. She looked at the jewel around Aragorn's neck shining brightly. The Evenstar, she thought. Has this mortal caught the favor of the Lady Undomiel?
"Kind lady, what is your name?" asked Aragorn, interrupting her thoughts realizing that after all this time they knew her only as Laurelén's mother. He could see where much of Laurelén's features came from: her long black hair of midnight and fairly dark skin unusual for most Elves, and stature and poise. She looked to be no older than himself, though probably closer in age to Legolas or Arwen. Whatever hardships she faced were invisible on her face but her dark eyes unlike that of Laurelén's held great age.
"Annuviel," came the reply. The female Elf looked at Gandalf and wondered if he would recognize the name but he was more interested in her abilities.
"How came you by this gift Lady Annuviel?" asked Gandalf. "You are half Elven are you not?"
Annuviel nodded. "Yes, I carry the blood of the Firstborn but I do not know what other blood runs through my veins. I do not know of my parentage, I'm afraid. I do not know the origin of this power. Regardless of its origins, I think of it as a gift of Illuvitar."
"I am thankful you have this gift," Frodo told her.
"As am I," smiled Annuviel. I am more thankful than you know, she thought. "Come now, you must all be weary. Please, take rest. I'm sorry there is little comfortable room for all of you here but you are safe; no danger shall come to you here." Though it was hard to believe the Elf considering they lived only in a small cottage surrounded by the dense dark forest with all its fell creatures laying in wait outside, Annuviel's words were still soothing. For the first time in a long while they slept indoors away from the hazards of nature, safe and warm in comparison to their earlier campgrounds. Even thorough the afternoon and evening they slept peacefully while Annuviel and her daughter watched over them recovering the precious sleep they had lost.
"//He will live won't he?//" asked Laurelén, turning from the window. She looked at her mother with a worry Annuviel had never seen before.
"//Of course, dear Laurelén,//" Annuviel smiled kissing her daughter's forehead, forcing her creased brow to relax. "He is among the greatest of this kind. Prince of Mirkwood no less."
"//He invited us to see Rivendell, Lothlorien and Mirkwood . You have been there before have you not?//" Annuviel nodded slowly. "//Was he the Elf you told me of before in your stories? What about the Lady Undomiel? Do you think he knows her?//"
"//I am sure he does for they are both royalty.//"
"//He cannot die.//" Laurelén was sure that her mother wanted to leave the forest. Annuviel never mentioned the idea of leaving, but in her heart, Laurelén was sure that her mother longed to see the bright forests, towering mountains, and clear waters of the rivers she spoke of. Why would she leave all these wonderful places and live here? She spoke mostly of Lothlorien and Mirkwood. Laurelén looked at her mother who was lost in thought. Legolas has changed her somehow, she thought. For better or for worse I do not know. But I feel that this meeting will change us all.
~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~
Thanks for the reviews you guys! Keep 'em coming! But um, sorry this isn't all that great (heck none of the other chapters are either) but bear with me please! Oh and someone link me to some good Elvish dictionaries cause I know that all my Elvish in all my stories will be totally wrong.