CHAPTER 39
MORNIE UTÚLIë
Perdhul found himself running along with many soldiers towards the fallen dragon. He held his sword high in the sky as he ran; and as everyone else, he thought that now it was going to be easy to slain the beast.
But as he approached the dragon, he knew that it wasn't going to be that simple, for his ears were filled with the screams of agonizing soldiers; and his vision filled with the bright aura of Smong's flames burning ahead.
Smong was now furious beyond measurement; the beast blew flames at everything that dared coming close; and whatever wasn't reached by the flames, was knocked down by the powerful swings of its tail or the strikes of its claws. The soldiers started backing away, and some of then even turned around and ran for their lives, dropping Gondor's banner to the ground.
Perdhul watched all this in horror; and waving his arms madly, he tried to stop the fleeing men - "HOLD THE LINES! DON'T RETREAT!"
His words echoed in the hearts of many loyal soldiers, but the majority of them just wanted to save their own lives and did not heed his call. Despite that, the White Army's general continued advancing towards the enemy, until he was face to face with the hideous beast.
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Up above the partially destroyed wall, the King of Gondor did not watch the unique battle happening below; he could only watch the fields. Over and over again he scanned the darkened ground looking for a sign of life in the bodies of the fallen ones; but to no avail.
He turned around to look at his last and only hope, and with no words, only his pleading eyes, he asked her for some hope. Arwen closed her eyes and concentrated in the presences of those fallen in the field, to her it was like searching for light in the darkest of nights. First she focused on her beloved son, whom she could sense after a while. He was alive, wounded, but alive.
Then, with her heart shrinking inside her chest, she reached out to him; him who she knew to be seeking for his own death. Finally, she sensed him; but it was strange to her that he seemed to be far away from her, for she felt as if he was a world away from that place.
"They both live" - she finally said, opening her eyes.
Aragorn released a long held breath and continued looking intently at the field. His eyes did not wander aimlessly, for he specifically looked for the bearer of a very distinctive black armor. Not only his eyes looked for him; but his heart also sought for Legolas' presence. Finally, he could see him, laid limply on the ground, and with all the strength left in his entire being and soul, the King of Gondor reached out to Legolas Greenleaf.
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Legolas was in complete and perfect silence and darkness. His mind and body were completely numb after the tremendous strain he had gone through. He would have remained that way if it weren't for a sudden tug to his heart. Someone was calling for him, but in his state, he could not discern who it was.
He slowly struggled to wake up, and opened his eyes to a world of haziness. He inhaled and exhaled deeply twice to regain his senses, and after some blinking he could focus the world around him. The first thing he saw was the dragon in the distance, battling against some soldiers; but he no longer cared about the beast, he had no strength left to fight it. Then, he turned around and saw Eldarion a few feet away from him. The prince did not move, and was laid on his back facing the sky with his eyes closed. The elf looked at the young man for a few seconds, corroborating how his chest rose slowly. A lance tip was cruelly entrenched in one of his thighs, and he bled copiously; but he was alive.
Then, he heard a sound coming from somewhere to his left. His deadened ears picked something that resembled a whimper. Legolas straightened up and sat on the ground with no little difficulty, and turned around to see what was the sound all about. All his years of war, battles and quests could not prepare him for the sight he had to behold that fatidic afternoon.
There, only a couple of yards away from him was the death body of the brave Herodir. A large wooden splinter had pierced his chest from side to side at the moment of the impact, killing the noble ranger instantaneously. Halbarad had his head rested on his friend's bloodied chest, and it was truly a strange experience to see the stoic Ranger crying softly like a little boy for his fallen companion. The older ranger was severely wounded as well; but had enough strength to mourn his friend.
Legolas lowered his head in respect for the brave man, and found out that he was spared from any fatal wound. Elendil's armor had protected him from everything but the brutal impact; and he was only bruised by it. At that moment Legolas wished he could trade places with the noble Herodir, who had given his incipient life mostly for him; and with his heart heavy with sorrow and regret, he crawled towards the rangers.
Halbarad did not sense him coming, and turned around only when Legolas placed a hand on his shoulder. With his eyes red and swollen he looked at his general - "He is dead general" - he said with tears streaming down his face - "I couldn't save him" - he managed to say before breaking into sobs.
Legolas gathered the man in his arms and tried to comfort him - "It was I who could not save him, Halbarad, he was my responsibility"
"No general! I should have taken better care of him, you had to protect the prince" - gasped Herodir, pressing his face against his general's chest. It was then that Legolas realized how the man's breathing was uneven and his heartbeats were irregular, he was agonizing.
He carefully laid the man on the ground to check him; his wounds were deep, but not mortal. But as he looked upon the man's eyes he saw that he has lost his desire to live. Then, Halbarad began speaking with trembling voice.
"For years I have feared that my sins would come some day to haunt me. Now that it finally happened, I see that what they have brought upon me is to great for me to bear. I no longer want to face them" - said the man, grasping Legolas hand with his own.
Legolas could not understand - "Of what sins do you speak of?" - he asked softly - "I am witness of your nobility."
Halbarad coughed, his breathing already becoming stertorous. - "The war, general; my deeds during the war were less than honorable. These deeds now haunt me."
Legolas moved his head from side to side - "If anyone is to be blamed for the atrocities of that war, that is me. You were under my command; I allowed those things to happen. It is my fault, Halbarad, not yours. Don't let your soul be troubled by shame or regret. Live! And live proud of your self. I take all those sins upon my self, and I shall pay for them."
Halbarad tried to speak again, but was not able to do so. Legolas grasped the man's face - "Live! Don't let go!"
Then, he looked up to the city; its white walls were illuminated by the last lights of dusk. Everybody was busy trying to slay the dragon, and those who had brought it down were forsaken in the field. Legolas looked around; many of the soldiers were death, but some were alive and in desperate need of assistance.
Then, as he looked sadly at the city, he felt piercing eyes upon him. He raised his gaze towards the window in the healing rooms, and his keen eyes allowed him to see Aragorn looking intently at him from the window. He saw that Arwen was there too, but she was not looking at him, she looked away.
Trying to understand what was happening, Legolas fixed his eyes on Aragorn, and he looked back at him the same way. In a moment, Legolas felt as if Aragorn was standing right in front of him, trying to speak to him; like asking something. Legolas focused on the Kings presence, trying to comprehend what he wanted, but Aragorn wouldn't tell him. Legolas shook his head slowly, completely confused by Aragorn's behavior.
Legolas could only feel Aragorn's strong presence very close to him, urging him to do something, but what? What else could he do?
Then, the spell was broken as Legolas saw movement coming towards him from the city. A group of brave women, brave mothers and maidens of the city were coming to aid the wounded; they weren't forsaken after all.
The women passed by him, seeing that he was standing and did not need immediate help; and scattered to help the remaining survivors.
Legolas was touched by their concern, and his hope in the race of men was restored thanks to those brave women. As he looked at all this, his eyes saw a glitter in the darkened ground.
It was Aragorn's sword Narsil, Andúril the Flame of the West, which had fallen out of the armor's scabbard during the impact.
He felt as if the fiery blade was calling him, urging him to pick it up. Then he felt Aragorn's presence once again, stronger than ever; like if he was right next to him; or even within him; and not only Aragorn, but something else, something great, something he could not comprehend.
Suddenly something beyond his understanding urged him to pick up the sword, and so he did. Legolas slowly walked towards the shimmer of the blade; leaned, and gripped the venerable handle with his right hand. He lifted it up and held the cold blade in front of his face.
He saw the reflection of his eyes beneath Elendil's helm in the polished blade, and was suddenly enthralled; for he knew those were his eyes, but the dreams and hopes those eyes reflected were not his.
He stared at that reflection for endless minutes, trying to understand the meaning of all this. At last he was struck with realization. Inside of him lived the dreams, the hopes, the pride, the legacies, the wisdom of a whole generation, a whole race. Inside his eyes he saw the legacy of all the people of Gondor; he saw the magnificence of ancient Kings, high monarchs of Numenor; and even the future generations, the descendants of those who now fought in the field with him.
All this legacy grew inside of him, filling him with the intense desire and the strength to fight. Then, he heard Aragorn's words ringing clearly in his memory, reminding him of his last request.
"I beg you with all my heart, to take this sword now and fight in my place. Take Gondor's pride to the field now, and slay that demon with my sword. To me it will be as if I am doing it myself."
He could not fail him, not now. All those hopes were placed on him. He had to fight again, fight like he had never fought in his life.
The elven warrior raised the sword to the sky, and a shout formed inside the depths of his soul, and bursted from his chest. The voice that uttered the shout was his; it was loud, powerful and clear; but the shout wasn't his, the words weren't his.
"ELENDIL..........!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
The powerful shout conquered the space around him; it traveled from north to south; from east to west; from the heights of the sky to the deepest pits of the earth. It went right into the heart of every creature; filling them with hope or fear; with pride or shame.
Then, with lightning speed, Legolas started running towards the city; the sword firmly grasped in his hand, and risen high towards the sky. His eyes fixed in the dragon ahead.
The soldiers that had retreated stopped their flight and turned around to charge again, inspired by the powerful call for battle that had infused courage into their hearts.
Even Eldarion, wounded and weakened as he was, stood up and followed the call, limping from the deep lesion in his leg.
Up in the healing room, Arwen Undomiel could not hold back a single tear that streamed down her cheek as she saw both her forbidden love, and her only son running madly towards the undulating beast below.
Legolas reached the running soldiers and they cleared a path for him to pass. He continued running vigorously through the lines until he found himself face to face with the beast.
Both dragon and elf froze and looked at each other with nothing but hate; they were mortal enemies, and they both knew that only one of them would come out of that encounter alive. Then, in an explosion of fire and speed, the singular battle began.
Legolas picked up a shield from a fallen soldier to protect himself from the flames and sprang forward, dodging the trajectory of the beast's swinging tail. He went forward until he was right below the dragon's neck, and swung Narsil with violence against the base of the thick neck.
The blade bounced against the solid scales, and an explosion of sparks emerged from the contact, but no harm was done. Legolas backed away two steps and the dragon tried to slice him in two halves with a monstrous claw. Legolas ducked and went ahead, desperately trying to pierce the dragon with the sword. But the scales were too hard, to impenetrable; each time he struck, only sparks would fly, adding to the dragon's rage.
The beast thrashed about, spat balls of fire and swung its tail, while hollering in anger. But Legolas would evade every attempt, and always went forward to strike back.
The men around them could only back away and watch the historic match in awe; the dragon's attacks killed many, even though they weren't directed to them; and only some of them remained close, and shot arrows at the beast.
The shafts passed whistling, dangerously close to Legolas head, but he didn't mind, his only objective was to slay the beast for once and for all. The task proved to be impossible, and as everyone of his attempts only bounced from Smong's scales, Legolas began to get desperate; he was not progressing.
The last lights of the day abandoned the battlefield and night finally came, swamping the earth with its darkness. Only the bright lights of Smong's fiery flames illuminated the faces of those who witnessed what happened after this.
Growling like an animal, Legolas sprang forward once again, raised the sword, and delivered the blow with all of his might. The impact of the blade against the scales sent violent pain coursing through Legolas' arm; from his wrist to his shoulder, and yet he did not let go of the handle. But then, the unthinkable happened; Narsil, the blade that was forged again; Andúril de Flame of the west,..... broke.
All the soldiers gasped and backed further away in horror. The arrows stopped flying. Up above, at the window of the healing room, Aragorn collapsed to the floor, completely deprived of strength. Arwen and the subjects helped him to the bed. Arwen tried to soothe him, though she was terrified. But Aragorn's eyes were filled with death and shock; hope was gone.
Legolas' world began moving very slowly. At that moment he felt as all strength abandoned him. He continued attacking the beast with the broken sword; but his own movements seemed awfully slow, and feeble. He saw a claw coming towards him, and tried to dodge; but it nevertheless hit him on his shoulder, and he fell on his knees, finally letting go of the broken sword.
No longer was he an invincible warrior; no longer did the legacy of Numenor and Gondor inhabit him. All that was gone. At that moment he was just and only Legolas Greenleaf, sylvan elf of the realm of Greenwood. All the pride, all the majesty, all the power; all was gone. Kneeling on front of the mighty beast he felt small, helpless, weak and frail. But most of all, what truly overwhelmed him was the sensation of being alone, forsaken, and abandoned.
A swing from Smong's tail knocked Elendil's helm off of his head, and sent his body to the ground. He felt the metallic taste of his own blood flooding his mouth and knew he could not defend himself. He grasped the shield that was still in his hand and covered his torso with it in last attempt to save his life.
But the dragon was determined to destroy him, and pressed him down against the ground with one of its enormous claws. Legolas tried to push back, but the claw above the shield was too powerful, and pushed down even harder.
Legolas cried out in pain as he was literally crushed under the weight of the dragon. He could hear the bones of his left arm cracking under the shield he unsuccessfully tried to use as protection.
Over and over again, the dragon trampled him furiously, and each time the soldiers cringed upon hearing Legolas painful groans.
A searing pain invaded his chest as the dragon pushed down harder, trying to squash him like an insect; and Legolas felt the shadow of death hovering over him. His thoughts turned to her, his love, the only one he ever loved; and with the last of his breath, he called her, crying out like a boy.
"UNDÓMIEL!"
Up in the healing room, Arwen held Aragorn in a tight embrace, but her head jerked up and her heart was invaded with pain and sorrow as she heard Legolas's agonizing cries.
"UNDÓMIEL!"
"Mornie utúlië!" (darkness has come)
"Síla Undómiel!" (shine Evenstar)
"A reniad lín ne mór, nuithannen!" (my journey has ended in darkness)
"A fae narchannen!" (my spirit is broken)
"I ël caled ethuiannen 'uren!" (your star has gone out of my heart)
The dragon pressed harder, trying to stop his shouts, and Legolas let out a piercing cry of agony, accompanied by one last excruciating shout.
"Evenstar! Why have you forsaken me?"
And then air abandoned his lungs under the pressure of the dragon's weight.
Unable to restrain herself any longer, Arwen broke into sobs, she could feel Legolas downfall tearing apart her heart; yet she remained by Aragorn's side. But Aragorn looked at her sadly and knowingly; and taking her by the face, forcing her to look at his eyes he said:
"Go!"
She moved her head from side to side, but he insisted.
"Go to him!"
Finally, she left Aragorn's side and ran to the window, looking out, she called out his name.
"Legolas!"
"Legolas!........ Tye-mela'ne!" (I love you) -* Quenya*-
"Tye-mela'ne!" (I love you)
She shouted those words with all of her soul; but a veil of darkness and silence had fallen upon Legolas' heart and soul, and he did not hear her; he never knew that she had responded to him.
Sepulchral silence took over the realm of Gondor and Arnor that night. Every creature went silent.
The agonizing gasps of Legolas broke tears from even the most stoic men of Minas Tirith. Everyone stepped back and abandoned him to his dreadful fate. All; all but one.
When all hope was gone, when no light shone, when everyone else stepped back in fear, the Heir of Gondor, Eldarion, son of the King, came out of the crowd; for finally, after no little effort, the Prince had managed to reach the Battle site.
Limping from the wound on his leg, he stepped forward and yelled fiercely at the dragon, causing the terrible beast to lift its head to see him, and granting Legolas a few more minutes of life. Eldarion took a lance from a cowering soldier and charged against the beast with fearless heart.
To be able to attack the Prince, the dragon had to loosen its deadly pressure upon Legolas' body, so the elf filled his lungs with air and life came back to his body. He heard the angry shouts of the child he considered his own son, and struggled to free himself, but to no avail.
"Eldarion, step away!" - he yelled, seeing as the prince boldly attacked the deadly beast.
But the prince was not discouraged by the flames or the brutal strength of the dragon and continued his attacks, inflamed by the warrior vein of his race. Legolas watched in horror as the dragon stretched its long neck above him to try to knock down Eldarion; and at that moment, with the light of Smong's own flames, he saw something in the dragon's neck he had failed to notice before.
When Smong rammed against the lances and was brought down to earth, the violence of the impact had detached one of the scales on its throat. A thousand thoughts raced through Legolas' mind as he saw the small, but nevertheless vulnerable spot. Could he use this? Could he force himself to one last deed? Was there enough strength left in him to do so?
He turned his head to see the valiant young man confronting a terrible dragon fearlessly, and knew that he had to. His eyes caught a weak gleam to his right, and he turned around to see Narsil's shards only feet away from him.
His left arm was totally crushed and worthless, but he focused in his right arm and found the strength necessary for the task. Pushing up with a loud yell, and struggling not to fall unconscious from the unbearable pain, he freed his good arm and reached out to grab the broken sword.
He reached the handle with the very tips of his fingers and grasped the sword. Then, he bent his arm and readied himself.
He fixed his eyes in the undulating movements of the dragon as it attacked Eldarion, seeking for the right moment. Even today, bards sing about the way in which prince Eldarion fought the dreadful beast on that dark night; for no matter how many times the dragon attacked, the young prince managed to evade and strike back; swinging his lance and aiming to the dragon's sallow eyes. Nine times sung the lance, and nine times did the dragon stretch its neck trying to pierce the price with its fangs.
But the ninth time, the dragon filled with rage, stretched its neck too far, and the soft spot was finally exposed.
It was then, that Legolas took in a deep, sharp breath and shouting - "Eru! Give me strength, guide this blade to victory!" - he launched the broken sword with whatever strength left in him.
The broken blade flew swiftly through the thick air and as the dragon was about to close its jaws upon the valiant prince, Narsil's shard came to embed itself right in the empty space left by the fallen scale.
The dragon jerked back its head and let out a loud and sharp howl as black blood poured out of the mortal wound. Thrashing about with stertorous sounds and gasps, the beast finally collapsed to the ground with a great uproar. It was dead.
In the pitch-black darkness of the moonless night, a loud clamor of joy and victory arose from all around the field upon seeing the creature dead; It's flames burnt no more, its hollers had stopped.
Arwen returned to her husband's side and taking his hand, she whispered words not even she could believe, and yet they were truth.
"The demon has been defeated, it lays dead beneath the walls of the city."
Aragorn closed his eyes in a thankful prayer. - "Our son?"
"Alive and praised." - she responded - "The impossible feat was partly his deed."
"And Legolas?"
Arwen hesitated to answer; she could not tell if Legolas had survived after his last endeavor. For she had only seen the dragon flailing over him, and then everything went dark - "It was him who slain the dragon, with your sword, as he had promised" - she said sadly, with a tear running down her cheek.
Aragorn reached his hand to wipe out the tear. - "He has fulfilled every one of his promises. Now, it is time for me to honor my words."
"Estel?" - asked Arwen, unable to understand his words.
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Long chapter hey?
I hope you liked it. If you did, please leave a little comment.
And thanks to all the people who has reviewed. Next chapter soon.
Elwe.
MORNIE UTÚLIë
Perdhul found himself running along with many soldiers towards the fallen dragon. He held his sword high in the sky as he ran; and as everyone else, he thought that now it was going to be easy to slain the beast.
But as he approached the dragon, he knew that it wasn't going to be that simple, for his ears were filled with the screams of agonizing soldiers; and his vision filled with the bright aura of Smong's flames burning ahead.
Smong was now furious beyond measurement; the beast blew flames at everything that dared coming close; and whatever wasn't reached by the flames, was knocked down by the powerful swings of its tail or the strikes of its claws. The soldiers started backing away, and some of then even turned around and ran for their lives, dropping Gondor's banner to the ground.
Perdhul watched all this in horror; and waving his arms madly, he tried to stop the fleeing men - "HOLD THE LINES! DON'T RETREAT!"
His words echoed in the hearts of many loyal soldiers, but the majority of them just wanted to save their own lives and did not heed his call. Despite that, the White Army's general continued advancing towards the enemy, until he was face to face with the hideous beast.
....................................
Up above the partially destroyed wall, the King of Gondor did not watch the unique battle happening below; he could only watch the fields. Over and over again he scanned the darkened ground looking for a sign of life in the bodies of the fallen ones; but to no avail.
He turned around to look at his last and only hope, and with no words, only his pleading eyes, he asked her for some hope. Arwen closed her eyes and concentrated in the presences of those fallen in the field, to her it was like searching for light in the darkest of nights. First she focused on her beloved son, whom she could sense after a while. He was alive, wounded, but alive.
Then, with her heart shrinking inside her chest, she reached out to him; him who she knew to be seeking for his own death. Finally, she sensed him; but it was strange to her that he seemed to be far away from her, for she felt as if he was a world away from that place.
"They both live" - she finally said, opening her eyes.
Aragorn released a long held breath and continued looking intently at the field. His eyes did not wander aimlessly, for he specifically looked for the bearer of a very distinctive black armor. Not only his eyes looked for him; but his heart also sought for Legolas' presence. Finally, he could see him, laid limply on the ground, and with all the strength left in his entire being and soul, the King of Gondor reached out to Legolas Greenleaf.
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Legolas was in complete and perfect silence and darkness. His mind and body were completely numb after the tremendous strain he had gone through. He would have remained that way if it weren't for a sudden tug to his heart. Someone was calling for him, but in his state, he could not discern who it was.
He slowly struggled to wake up, and opened his eyes to a world of haziness. He inhaled and exhaled deeply twice to regain his senses, and after some blinking he could focus the world around him. The first thing he saw was the dragon in the distance, battling against some soldiers; but he no longer cared about the beast, he had no strength left to fight it. Then, he turned around and saw Eldarion a few feet away from him. The prince did not move, and was laid on his back facing the sky with his eyes closed. The elf looked at the young man for a few seconds, corroborating how his chest rose slowly. A lance tip was cruelly entrenched in one of his thighs, and he bled copiously; but he was alive.
Then, he heard a sound coming from somewhere to his left. His deadened ears picked something that resembled a whimper. Legolas straightened up and sat on the ground with no little difficulty, and turned around to see what was the sound all about. All his years of war, battles and quests could not prepare him for the sight he had to behold that fatidic afternoon.
There, only a couple of yards away from him was the death body of the brave Herodir. A large wooden splinter had pierced his chest from side to side at the moment of the impact, killing the noble ranger instantaneously. Halbarad had his head rested on his friend's bloodied chest, and it was truly a strange experience to see the stoic Ranger crying softly like a little boy for his fallen companion. The older ranger was severely wounded as well; but had enough strength to mourn his friend.
Legolas lowered his head in respect for the brave man, and found out that he was spared from any fatal wound. Elendil's armor had protected him from everything but the brutal impact; and he was only bruised by it. At that moment Legolas wished he could trade places with the noble Herodir, who had given his incipient life mostly for him; and with his heart heavy with sorrow and regret, he crawled towards the rangers.
Halbarad did not sense him coming, and turned around only when Legolas placed a hand on his shoulder. With his eyes red and swollen he looked at his general - "He is dead general" - he said with tears streaming down his face - "I couldn't save him" - he managed to say before breaking into sobs.
Legolas gathered the man in his arms and tried to comfort him - "It was I who could not save him, Halbarad, he was my responsibility"
"No general! I should have taken better care of him, you had to protect the prince" - gasped Herodir, pressing his face against his general's chest. It was then that Legolas realized how the man's breathing was uneven and his heartbeats were irregular, he was agonizing.
He carefully laid the man on the ground to check him; his wounds were deep, but not mortal. But as he looked upon the man's eyes he saw that he has lost his desire to live. Then, Halbarad began speaking with trembling voice.
"For years I have feared that my sins would come some day to haunt me. Now that it finally happened, I see that what they have brought upon me is to great for me to bear. I no longer want to face them" - said the man, grasping Legolas hand with his own.
Legolas could not understand - "Of what sins do you speak of?" - he asked softly - "I am witness of your nobility."
Halbarad coughed, his breathing already becoming stertorous. - "The war, general; my deeds during the war were less than honorable. These deeds now haunt me."
Legolas moved his head from side to side - "If anyone is to be blamed for the atrocities of that war, that is me. You were under my command; I allowed those things to happen. It is my fault, Halbarad, not yours. Don't let your soul be troubled by shame or regret. Live! And live proud of your self. I take all those sins upon my self, and I shall pay for them."
Halbarad tried to speak again, but was not able to do so. Legolas grasped the man's face - "Live! Don't let go!"
Then, he looked up to the city; its white walls were illuminated by the last lights of dusk. Everybody was busy trying to slay the dragon, and those who had brought it down were forsaken in the field. Legolas looked around; many of the soldiers were death, but some were alive and in desperate need of assistance.
Then, as he looked sadly at the city, he felt piercing eyes upon him. He raised his gaze towards the window in the healing rooms, and his keen eyes allowed him to see Aragorn looking intently at him from the window. He saw that Arwen was there too, but she was not looking at him, she looked away.
Trying to understand what was happening, Legolas fixed his eyes on Aragorn, and he looked back at him the same way. In a moment, Legolas felt as if Aragorn was standing right in front of him, trying to speak to him; like asking something. Legolas focused on the Kings presence, trying to comprehend what he wanted, but Aragorn wouldn't tell him. Legolas shook his head slowly, completely confused by Aragorn's behavior.
Legolas could only feel Aragorn's strong presence very close to him, urging him to do something, but what? What else could he do?
Then, the spell was broken as Legolas saw movement coming towards him from the city. A group of brave women, brave mothers and maidens of the city were coming to aid the wounded; they weren't forsaken after all.
The women passed by him, seeing that he was standing and did not need immediate help; and scattered to help the remaining survivors.
Legolas was touched by their concern, and his hope in the race of men was restored thanks to those brave women. As he looked at all this, his eyes saw a glitter in the darkened ground.
It was Aragorn's sword Narsil, Andúril the Flame of the West, which had fallen out of the armor's scabbard during the impact.
He felt as if the fiery blade was calling him, urging him to pick it up. Then he felt Aragorn's presence once again, stronger than ever; like if he was right next to him; or even within him; and not only Aragorn, but something else, something great, something he could not comprehend.
Suddenly something beyond his understanding urged him to pick up the sword, and so he did. Legolas slowly walked towards the shimmer of the blade; leaned, and gripped the venerable handle with his right hand. He lifted it up and held the cold blade in front of his face.
He saw the reflection of his eyes beneath Elendil's helm in the polished blade, and was suddenly enthralled; for he knew those were his eyes, but the dreams and hopes those eyes reflected were not his.
He stared at that reflection for endless minutes, trying to understand the meaning of all this. At last he was struck with realization. Inside of him lived the dreams, the hopes, the pride, the legacies, the wisdom of a whole generation, a whole race. Inside his eyes he saw the legacy of all the people of Gondor; he saw the magnificence of ancient Kings, high monarchs of Numenor; and even the future generations, the descendants of those who now fought in the field with him.
All this legacy grew inside of him, filling him with the intense desire and the strength to fight. Then, he heard Aragorn's words ringing clearly in his memory, reminding him of his last request.
"I beg you with all my heart, to take this sword now and fight in my place. Take Gondor's pride to the field now, and slay that demon with my sword. To me it will be as if I am doing it myself."
He could not fail him, not now. All those hopes were placed on him. He had to fight again, fight like he had never fought in his life.
The elven warrior raised the sword to the sky, and a shout formed inside the depths of his soul, and bursted from his chest. The voice that uttered the shout was his; it was loud, powerful and clear; but the shout wasn't his, the words weren't his.
"ELENDIL..........!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
The powerful shout conquered the space around him; it traveled from north to south; from east to west; from the heights of the sky to the deepest pits of the earth. It went right into the heart of every creature; filling them with hope or fear; with pride or shame.
Then, with lightning speed, Legolas started running towards the city; the sword firmly grasped in his hand, and risen high towards the sky. His eyes fixed in the dragon ahead.
The soldiers that had retreated stopped their flight and turned around to charge again, inspired by the powerful call for battle that had infused courage into their hearts.
Even Eldarion, wounded and weakened as he was, stood up and followed the call, limping from the deep lesion in his leg.
Up in the healing room, Arwen Undomiel could not hold back a single tear that streamed down her cheek as she saw both her forbidden love, and her only son running madly towards the undulating beast below.
Legolas reached the running soldiers and they cleared a path for him to pass. He continued running vigorously through the lines until he found himself face to face with the beast.
Both dragon and elf froze and looked at each other with nothing but hate; they were mortal enemies, and they both knew that only one of them would come out of that encounter alive. Then, in an explosion of fire and speed, the singular battle began.
Legolas picked up a shield from a fallen soldier to protect himself from the flames and sprang forward, dodging the trajectory of the beast's swinging tail. He went forward until he was right below the dragon's neck, and swung Narsil with violence against the base of the thick neck.
The blade bounced against the solid scales, and an explosion of sparks emerged from the contact, but no harm was done. Legolas backed away two steps and the dragon tried to slice him in two halves with a monstrous claw. Legolas ducked and went ahead, desperately trying to pierce the dragon with the sword. But the scales were too hard, to impenetrable; each time he struck, only sparks would fly, adding to the dragon's rage.
The beast thrashed about, spat balls of fire and swung its tail, while hollering in anger. But Legolas would evade every attempt, and always went forward to strike back.
The men around them could only back away and watch the historic match in awe; the dragon's attacks killed many, even though they weren't directed to them; and only some of them remained close, and shot arrows at the beast.
The shafts passed whistling, dangerously close to Legolas head, but he didn't mind, his only objective was to slay the beast for once and for all. The task proved to be impossible, and as everyone of his attempts only bounced from Smong's scales, Legolas began to get desperate; he was not progressing.
The last lights of the day abandoned the battlefield and night finally came, swamping the earth with its darkness. Only the bright lights of Smong's fiery flames illuminated the faces of those who witnessed what happened after this.
Growling like an animal, Legolas sprang forward once again, raised the sword, and delivered the blow with all of his might. The impact of the blade against the scales sent violent pain coursing through Legolas' arm; from his wrist to his shoulder, and yet he did not let go of the handle. But then, the unthinkable happened; Narsil, the blade that was forged again; Andúril de Flame of the west,..... broke.
All the soldiers gasped and backed further away in horror. The arrows stopped flying. Up above, at the window of the healing room, Aragorn collapsed to the floor, completely deprived of strength. Arwen and the subjects helped him to the bed. Arwen tried to soothe him, though she was terrified. But Aragorn's eyes were filled with death and shock; hope was gone.
Legolas' world began moving very slowly. At that moment he felt as all strength abandoned him. He continued attacking the beast with the broken sword; but his own movements seemed awfully slow, and feeble. He saw a claw coming towards him, and tried to dodge; but it nevertheless hit him on his shoulder, and he fell on his knees, finally letting go of the broken sword.
No longer was he an invincible warrior; no longer did the legacy of Numenor and Gondor inhabit him. All that was gone. At that moment he was just and only Legolas Greenleaf, sylvan elf of the realm of Greenwood. All the pride, all the majesty, all the power; all was gone. Kneeling on front of the mighty beast he felt small, helpless, weak and frail. But most of all, what truly overwhelmed him was the sensation of being alone, forsaken, and abandoned.
A swing from Smong's tail knocked Elendil's helm off of his head, and sent his body to the ground. He felt the metallic taste of his own blood flooding his mouth and knew he could not defend himself. He grasped the shield that was still in his hand and covered his torso with it in last attempt to save his life.
But the dragon was determined to destroy him, and pressed him down against the ground with one of its enormous claws. Legolas tried to push back, but the claw above the shield was too powerful, and pushed down even harder.
Legolas cried out in pain as he was literally crushed under the weight of the dragon. He could hear the bones of his left arm cracking under the shield he unsuccessfully tried to use as protection.
Over and over again, the dragon trampled him furiously, and each time the soldiers cringed upon hearing Legolas painful groans.
A searing pain invaded his chest as the dragon pushed down harder, trying to squash him like an insect; and Legolas felt the shadow of death hovering over him. His thoughts turned to her, his love, the only one he ever loved; and with the last of his breath, he called her, crying out like a boy.
"UNDÓMIEL!"
Up in the healing room, Arwen held Aragorn in a tight embrace, but her head jerked up and her heart was invaded with pain and sorrow as she heard Legolas's agonizing cries.
"UNDÓMIEL!"
"Mornie utúlië!" (darkness has come)
"Síla Undómiel!" (shine Evenstar)
"A reniad lín ne mór, nuithannen!" (my journey has ended in darkness)
"A fae narchannen!" (my spirit is broken)
"I ël caled ethuiannen 'uren!" (your star has gone out of my heart)
The dragon pressed harder, trying to stop his shouts, and Legolas let out a piercing cry of agony, accompanied by one last excruciating shout.
"Evenstar! Why have you forsaken me?"
And then air abandoned his lungs under the pressure of the dragon's weight.
Unable to restrain herself any longer, Arwen broke into sobs, she could feel Legolas downfall tearing apart her heart; yet she remained by Aragorn's side. But Aragorn looked at her sadly and knowingly; and taking her by the face, forcing her to look at his eyes he said:
"Go!"
She moved her head from side to side, but he insisted.
"Go to him!"
Finally, she left Aragorn's side and ran to the window, looking out, she called out his name.
"Legolas!"
"Legolas!........ Tye-mela'ne!" (I love you) -* Quenya*-
"Tye-mela'ne!" (I love you)
She shouted those words with all of her soul; but a veil of darkness and silence had fallen upon Legolas' heart and soul, and he did not hear her; he never knew that she had responded to him.
Sepulchral silence took over the realm of Gondor and Arnor that night. Every creature went silent.
The agonizing gasps of Legolas broke tears from even the most stoic men of Minas Tirith. Everyone stepped back and abandoned him to his dreadful fate. All; all but one.
When all hope was gone, when no light shone, when everyone else stepped back in fear, the Heir of Gondor, Eldarion, son of the King, came out of the crowd; for finally, after no little effort, the Prince had managed to reach the Battle site.
Limping from the wound on his leg, he stepped forward and yelled fiercely at the dragon, causing the terrible beast to lift its head to see him, and granting Legolas a few more minutes of life. Eldarion took a lance from a cowering soldier and charged against the beast with fearless heart.
To be able to attack the Prince, the dragon had to loosen its deadly pressure upon Legolas' body, so the elf filled his lungs with air and life came back to his body. He heard the angry shouts of the child he considered his own son, and struggled to free himself, but to no avail.
"Eldarion, step away!" - he yelled, seeing as the prince boldly attacked the deadly beast.
But the prince was not discouraged by the flames or the brutal strength of the dragon and continued his attacks, inflamed by the warrior vein of his race. Legolas watched in horror as the dragon stretched its long neck above him to try to knock down Eldarion; and at that moment, with the light of Smong's own flames, he saw something in the dragon's neck he had failed to notice before.
When Smong rammed against the lances and was brought down to earth, the violence of the impact had detached one of the scales on its throat. A thousand thoughts raced through Legolas' mind as he saw the small, but nevertheless vulnerable spot. Could he use this? Could he force himself to one last deed? Was there enough strength left in him to do so?
He turned his head to see the valiant young man confronting a terrible dragon fearlessly, and knew that he had to. His eyes caught a weak gleam to his right, and he turned around to see Narsil's shards only feet away from him.
His left arm was totally crushed and worthless, but he focused in his right arm and found the strength necessary for the task. Pushing up with a loud yell, and struggling not to fall unconscious from the unbearable pain, he freed his good arm and reached out to grab the broken sword.
He reached the handle with the very tips of his fingers and grasped the sword. Then, he bent his arm and readied himself.
He fixed his eyes in the undulating movements of the dragon as it attacked Eldarion, seeking for the right moment. Even today, bards sing about the way in which prince Eldarion fought the dreadful beast on that dark night; for no matter how many times the dragon attacked, the young prince managed to evade and strike back; swinging his lance and aiming to the dragon's sallow eyes. Nine times sung the lance, and nine times did the dragon stretch its neck trying to pierce the price with its fangs.
But the ninth time, the dragon filled with rage, stretched its neck too far, and the soft spot was finally exposed.
It was then, that Legolas took in a deep, sharp breath and shouting - "Eru! Give me strength, guide this blade to victory!" - he launched the broken sword with whatever strength left in him.
The broken blade flew swiftly through the thick air and as the dragon was about to close its jaws upon the valiant prince, Narsil's shard came to embed itself right in the empty space left by the fallen scale.
The dragon jerked back its head and let out a loud and sharp howl as black blood poured out of the mortal wound. Thrashing about with stertorous sounds and gasps, the beast finally collapsed to the ground with a great uproar. It was dead.
In the pitch-black darkness of the moonless night, a loud clamor of joy and victory arose from all around the field upon seeing the creature dead; It's flames burnt no more, its hollers had stopped.
Arwen returned to her husband's side and taking his hand, she whispered words not even she could believe, and yet they were truth.
"The demon has been defeated, it lays dead beneath the walls of the city."
Aragorn closed his eyes in a thankful prayer. - "Our son?"
"Alive and praised." - she responded - "The impossible feat was partly his deed."
"And Legolas?"
Arwen hesitated to answer; she could not tell if Legolas had survived after his last endeavor. For she had only seen the dragon flailing over him, and then everything went dark - "It was him who slain the dragon, with your sword, as he had promised" - she said sadly, with a tear running down her cheek.
Aragorn reached his hand to wipe out the tear. - "He has fulfilled every one of his promises. Now, it is time for me to honor my words."
"Estel?" - asked Arwen, unable to understand his words.
....................................
Long chapter hey?
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And thanks to all the people who has reviewed. Next chapter soon.
Elwe.