Disclaimer: They're not mine.
Author's Notes: All the incredibly wonderful feedback and reviews I've gotten have encouraged me to post some of my older, longer stuff. I don't think it's as good as what I've been writing recently, but here it is nonetheless. Erm, I've gotten some really interesting reviews lately. It's kinda funny because I've gotten two different takes on the same story. Some people like it cause it's not slash and others feel that although I didn't classify it as slash they think it has a slashy touch. I guess I should tell you that when I classify a story as non-slash it means that although the two characters may exchange a hug or whatever, there are no romantic feelings involved. I happen to be a very touchy-feely person myself so I guess that tends to come across in my stories. I do write slash (and a slashy version of this story is available if anyone wants it.just review and ask me to post it) and if I ever do post any I will definitely say that it is in the summary.
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Someone enters the room and I look up from my meal to see Legolas pacing the perimeter like a caged animal. The change in my Elven friend is startling. Gone is the quiet and unassuming Prince that accompanied me from Rivendell through Moria and Lothlorien. In his place is a finely tuned, tightly wound instrument of death. Legolas and I have fought together many times but I've never seen him quite like this before. I know he's upset that the children are being asked to fight, and he feels this is a battle we cannot win, but even these things cannot quell the energy radiating from him. In fact, Legolas almost seems to thrive on situations where we're badly outnumbered. It's not that Legolas likes fighting, but he's been trained for it since he was very young and he's had much experience from defending his land against Orcs. Battle is something that is familiar to him and it energizes him.
He is wearing light armor, his bow clutched in his left hand. As he paces he absently twirls the knife he holds in his right hand. I smile. "Battle will come soon enough, my friend." Legolas jumps a bit at my words and gives me a slightly embarrassed smile but doesn't say a word. "Why don't you eat something?"
"You know I never eat before I fight." Again he gives me a little smile. This is a conversation we have before every campaign. I pick a pastry from my plate and wave it at the Elf, my eyebrows raised. Where they managed to find pastries I'm not sure, but I know that Legolas will take it. Sure enough, Legolas approaches and sets his bow on the table, reaching out his now empty hand to accept the food. He takes a delicate bit and his tongue flicks out to lick the crumbs from his lips.
"Thank you," he says, his blue eyes shining.
"You're welcome," I answer, pushing the chair across from me out with my foot. Legolas drops into it as he finishes the pastry and he steals a slice of meat from my plate. I smile to myself and nudge the plate closer to the Elf. "I thought you weren't hungry."
"I'm not," he insists seriously as he picks up my abandoned fork and spears carrot and potato slices.
"Right." I lean back in my chair and wish that I had my pipe. This is a ritual with us. I'm always hungry before battle and while Legolas claims that he never eats before he fights, he always steals half my food. I've learned to get twice as much as I can eat so that we'll both have enough. If nothing else, eating distracts Legolas slightly from the hours and probably days of battle ahead. We sit in silence as he finishes his meal. Finally he places the fork on the empty plate and leans back in his own chair.
"This is always the worst, the waiting." His voice is quiet and I do not answer. His cold blue eyes meet and hold my own gaze for an uncomfortably long moment. "Do you honestly think we can prevail?"
I sigh heavily. I have been asking myself the same question ever since Legolas confronted me about it in the hall. "We must. If we do not, there will be no one to celebrate when Frodo destroys the Ring."
The Elf is not so easily put off. "You did not answer my question."
I groan as his eyes bore into me. "What would you have me say, Legolas? That unless some miracle occurs we will be destroyed like so many lambs sent to slaughter? Is that what you wanted to hear? The truth is we will all die here, Men, Elves and Dwarf alike!" My voice drops and my shoulders slump. "The truth is that I can see no way out."
The Elf's voice reaches my ears, soft and reassuring. "You may see now way out now, but if there is one, I know you will find it. I trust you as I always have. I trust you with my life. We all do. Do not let that despair you, rather draw strength from it. These people love you though they barely know you. I love you all the more for all the years we have known each other. You have never let me down yet."
"Hope that I do not start now, my friend." I am unable to say more as Haldir enters the room and approaches us. We stand and the Lorien Elf bows slightly.
"King Theoden is summoning all to the walls. We are ready." He is as calm as ever, his posture giving no hint as to his inner thoughts.
I nod. "We will be there shortly." Haldir nods once and exits silently. I turn to Legolas and we stand there for many moments, neither of us speaking or moving. This is it. The final hour is up and we are about to go out and face our almost certain deaths. The passing of time is painfully heavy on my mind but finally Legolas closes the distance between us. His arms come around me and I return the embrace. "Be careful out there," I whisper.
"You too." Legolas squeezes me tightly then releases me, reaching for his bow. I detect a hint of tears on his cheeks although he quickly brushes them away. This display of emotion is unusual for my Elven friend. He turns back around to face me, his face its usual mask of cool calm once again.
"Are you ready?" I know that we would never truly be ready for this moment, but we must face it anyway.
"Let's do this." He does not sound confident but he doesn't sound completely resigned, either. I take heart from his undying trust in me. We exchange weak smiles and side by side we step out into the dark gloom where our fates await us.
Author's Notes: All the incredibly wonderful feedback and reviews I've gotten have encouraged me to post some of my older, longer stuff. I don't think it's as good as what I've been writing recently, but here it is nonetheless. Erm, I've gotten some really interesting reviews lately. It's kinda funny because I've gotten two different takes on the same story. Some people like it cause it's not slash and others feel that although I didn't classify it as slash they think it has a slashy touch. I guess I should tell you that when I classify a story as non-slash it means that although the two characters may exchange a hug or whatever, there are no romantic feelings involved. I happen to be a very touchy-feely person myself so I guess that tends to come across in my stories. I do write slash (and a slashy version of this story is available if anyone wants it.just review and ask me to post it) and if I ever do post any I will definitely say that it is in the summary.
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Someone enters the room and I look up from my meal to see Legolas pacing the perimeter like a caged animal. The change in my Elven friend is startling. Gone is the quiet and unassuming Prince that accompanied me from Rivendell through Moria and Lothlorien. In his place is a finely tuned, tightly wound instrument of death. Legolas and I have fought together many times but I've never seen him quite like this before. I know he's upset that the children are being asked to fight, and he feels this is a battle we cannot win, but even these things cannot quell the energy radiating from him. In fact, Legolas almost seems to thrive on situations where we're badly outnumbered. It's not that Legolas likes fighting, but he's been trained for it since he was very young and he's had much experience from defending his land against Orcs. Battle is something that is familiar to him and it energizes him.
He is wearing light armor, his bow clutched in his left hand. As he paces he absently twirls the knife he holds in his right hand. I smile. "Battle will come soon enough, my friend." Legolas jumps a bit at my words and gives me a slightly embarrassed smile but doesn't say a word. "Why don't you eat something?"
"You know I never eat before I fight." Again he gives me a little smile. This is a conversation we have before every campaign. I pick a pastry from my plate and wave it at the Elf, my eyebrows raised. Where they managed to find pastries I'm not sure, but I know that Legolas will take it. Sure enough, Legolas approaches and sets his bow on the table, reaching out his now empty hand to accept the food. He takes a delicate bit and his tongue flicks out to lick the crumbs from his lips.
"Thank you," he says, his blue eyes shining.
"You're welcome," I answer, pushing the chair across from me out with my foot. Legolas drops into it as he finishes the pastry and he steals a slice of meat from my plate. I smile to myself and nudge the plate closer to the Elf. "I thought you weren't hungry."
"I'm not," he insists seriously as he picks up my abandoned fork and spears carrot and potato slices.
"Right." I lean back in my chair and wish that I had my pipe. This is a ritual with us. I'm always hungry before battle and while Legolas claims that he never eats before he fights, he always steals half my food. I've learned to get twice as much as I can eat so that we'll both have enough. If nothing else, eating distracts Legolas slightly from the hours and probably days of battle ahead. We sit in silence as he finishes his meal. Finally he places the fork on the empty plate and leans back in his own chair.
"This is always the worst, the waiting." His voice is quiet and I do not answer. His cold blue eyes meet and hold my own gaze for an uncomfortably long moment. "Do you honestly think we can prevail?"
I sigh heavily. I have been asking myself the same question ever since Legolas confronted me about it in the hall. "We must. If we do not, there will be no one to celebrate when Frodo destroys the Ring."
The Elf is not so easily put off. "You did not answer my question."
I groan as his eyes bore into me. "What would you have me say, Legolas? That unless some miracle occurs we will be destroyed like so many lambs sent to slaughter? Is that what you wanted to hear? The truth is we will all die here, Men, Elves and Dwarf alike!" My voice drops and my shoulders slump. "The truth is that I can see no way out."
The Elf's voice reaches my ears, soft and reassuring. "You may see now way out now, but if there is one, I know you will find it. I trust you as I always have. I trust you with my life. We all do. Do not let that despair you, rather draw strength from it. These people love you though they barely know you. I love you all the more for all the years we have known each other. You have never let me down yet."
"Hope that I do not start now, my friend." I am unable to say more as Haldir enters the room and approaches us. We stand and the Lorien Elf bows slightly.
"King Theoden is summoning all to the walls. We are ready." He is as calm as ever, his posture giving no hint as to his inner thoughts.
I nod. "We will be there shortly." Haldir nods once and exits silently. I turn to Legolas and we stand there for many moments, neither of us speaking or moving. This is it. The final hour is up and we are about to go out and face our almost certain deaths. The passing of time is painfully heavy on my mind but finally Legolas closes the distance between us. His arms come around me and I return the embrace. "Be careful out there," I whisper.
"You too." Legolas squeezes me tightly then releases me, reaching for his bow. I detect a hint of tears on his cheeks although he quickly brushes them away. This display of emotion is unusual for my Elven friend. He turns back around to face me, his face its usual mask of cool calm once again.
"Are you ready?" I know that we would never truly be ready for this moment, but we must face it anyway.
"Let's do this." He does not sound confident but he doesn't sound completely resigned, either. I take heart from his undying trust in me. We exchange weak smiles and side by side we step out into the dark gloom where our fates await us.
