A/N: Vedui, melloneamin!!!!!
Thank you all SOOOOOOOOOO much for your reviews. I love you all! And I am attempting to learn elven from www.greycompany.org, though I have not gotten very far.
And I have made up the basic story line for this fic. Mwahahahahahaha.
That's all I'm gonna say.
Yours Truly: thank you very much for your advice on death! It's actually dead on, now that I think about it. You practically wrote poetry right there! I do intend to get inside their heads more!
To everyone else: go read the fics by Yours Truly! They're amazing! Also, if you're bored and looking for some light reading, my short story Spiders is a possible consideration. I uploaded it all at once when I finished it (it was due the next morning, first period, so I was up very late and did not intend to return to it).
Disclaimer: I own NOTHING!!!!!!! *sobs * Dagnabit.. I forgot to do a disclaimer for the last chapter. NO ONE SUE ME! I'M INNOCENT!!!!!!
* * *
Aragorn slid to a halt, forcing those behind to skid around in front to avoid knocking into him. Curious eyes stared at him for a moment, though they quickly grew to astonishment.
Gimli ran up, having been somewhat slower than the others. "What are we sto-," the words dried up between his lips, as he perceived the Elven body before him, "By the Valar, he lives!"
Ever so gently, Aragorn lay Legolas upon the soft earth, as the blood spilt from his mouth onto the slashed chest. He supported the elf's head, so he would not choke on his own blood. For a time, the Fellowship could do nothing more but stand, and watch as their friend returned from death.
Finally, the violent cough dimmed to nothing and Aragorn set Legolas' head on the ground. A moment went by, and all hopes of life seemed to fade. Yet just as Aragorn began to set his hopes against him, he caught the slight movement of the elf's chest.
Grey eyes flickered, fading in and out of reality. At first, Legolas felt nothing, and everything was numb. A tingling began in his toes, flowing up his legs, to his stomach and chest; like a wave of the sea. And all at once, the pain hit him.
All his body ached, though his torso and stomach burned. He also felt a none-too-gentle throbbing in his wrist.
Aragorn's breath hastened, as he saw the gradual life returning to his friend. How could this be happening? Not more than two hours ago, Legolas had been dead; without a pulse, and without breath. Now he could see the eyes flicking about beneath the closed lids, and the calm rise and fall of his chest. Where once there had been death, there now was life.
He bent over Legolas, pleading for him to waken; pleading for a sign that this was real, and not some sick joke or dream.
And so it became that indeed there was no falseness in the elf's wakening. Soon, Legolas' eyes opened into the world, and gazing tiredly at the man kneeling over him. He shivered, as a blast of dusk's cool air descended upon him, followed by gusts of chilled wind, endlessly battering at his quivering figure.
"Aragorn.?"
That one word, from that voice.it seemed impossible, yet that name floated to Aragorn's ears, and he welcomed it with relief. Tears sprung to the corners of his eyes, this time not of dismay, but of joy. He could hear the frantic steps of the others, rushing in to the elf and man, to see if indeed the dead had awoken.
"Legolas." Words failed him, as he gazed down at the elf, disbelieving, yet knowing with ecstasy that every moment was real. "Are you all right?"
"Yes, I am fine, I think." Legolas spoke as if nothing out of the ordinary battle wound had happened. But, then again, Aragorn reminded himself, Legolas is a proud and valiant warrior. He would not admit if indeed he felt something was wrong.
"Are you sure?" He spent these words slowly and carefully, as if telling a young child of something very important.
"Yes, yes, Aragorn. I am fine," Legolas insisted. He rolled onto his side, and set his hands on the green earth to push himself up. As he set pressure upon his wrists, his left gave out beneath him, and he could not restrain a slight cry. Several sickening cracks and snaps sounded. The hobbits shuddered.
Aragorn shook his head. "Nay, Legolas, you are not fine. And I will not let you tell me so. We are going to Lothlorien, and I insist to carry you."
Legolas' grey orbs suddenly turned defiant and cold. "I am fine. Just help me stand, and I can go on my own." He grimaced as he cradled his broken wrist.
"Nay, my friend. Disregard your pride, and admit that you are indeed not all that well."
Legolas was about to protest, but Gimli stepped forward. "Master elf," he said with a hint of exasperation, "perhaps if you would merely cooperate, we could reach the woods ere each of us would perish."
Aragorn worked hard to suppress a smile, seeing past the annoyed tone and finding some concern and good will for the elf.
"Nay, master dwarf. I will go on my own. I need no aid."
"Ah," said Aragorn with a mischievous gleam in his eye. "But have I not always been the more rebellious of us two?" Without waiting for a response, he quickly swooped down upon the elf, and picked him up. Legolas rolled his eyes, and tried to appear angered; but the two friends could not hide their grins.
The Fellowship ran on, moving swift and quietly over the countryside. After little time, Aragorn looked down to see his friend asleep. The elf was exhausted, and now and again he would cough up blood. A journey to death and back again was not easy.
Ahead of them, a towering forest loomed up over the horizon. Lothlorien at last was within reach. Twilight had past, and darkness now descended upon the world with wings of darkness, though it was a clear night, with all the stars twinkling merrily above them. Gimli grew anxious as they approached the Elf dominated woodland. He, too, ran a little faster, though more out of a desire to keep pace than to reach the forest.
Aragorn did not stop, and even quickened his pace as they entered the forest. But as they wandered deeper into the woods, he slowed to a wary walk. He was searching. searching for other elves, or of the lofty houses in the trees in which the Lorien Elves dwelt.
But he at last halted when he walked almost directly into an arrow tip.
A/N: MOOFA!
Wow, it kinda began like crap, but I think it got better. Please R&R!
Critiques are VEEEEEEERY much appreciated. Any tips or ideas or aaaaaanything, I'll take it! R&R! Critiques never taken the wrong way!
Thank you all SOOOOOOOOOO much for your reviews. I love you all! And I am attempting to learn elven from www.greycompany.org, though I have not gotten very far.
And I have made up the basic story line for this fic. Mwahahahahahaha.
That's all I'm gonna say.
Yours Truly: thank you very much for your advice on death! It's actually dead on, now that I think about it. You practically wrote poetry right there! I do intend to get inside their heads more!
To everyone else: go read the fics by Yours Truly! They're amazing! Also, if you're bored and looking for some light reading, my short story Spiders is a possible consideration. I uploaded it all at once when I finished it (it was due the next morning, first period, so I was up very late and did not intend to return to it).
Disclaimer: I own NOTHING!!!!!!! *sobs * Dagnabit.. I forgot to do a disclaimer for the last chapter. NO ONE SUE ME! I'M INNOCENT!!!!!!
* * *
Aragorn slid to a halt, forcing those behind to skid around in front to avoid knocking into him. Curious eyes stared at him for a moment, though they quickly grew to astonishment.
Gimli ran up, having been somewhat slower than the others. "What are we sto-," the words dried up between his lips, as he perceived the Elven body before him, "By the Valar, he lives!"
Ever so gently, Aragorn lay Legolas upon the soft earth, as the blood spilt from his mouth onto the slashed chest. He supported the elf's head, so he would not choke on his own blood. For a time, the Fellowship could do nothing more but stand, and watch as their friend returned from death.
Finally, the violent cough dimmed to nothing and Aragorn set Legolas' head on the ground. A moment went by, and all hopes of life seemed to fade. Yet just as Aragorn began to set his hopes against him, he caught the slight movement of the elf's chest.
Grey eyes flickered, fading in and out of reality. At first, Legolas felt nothing, and everything was numb. A tingling began in his toes, flowing up his legs, to his stomach and chest; like a wave of the sea. And all at once, the pain hit him.
All his body ached, though his torso and stomach burned. He also felt a none-too-gentle throbbing in his wrist.
Aragorn's breath hastened, as he saw the gradual life returning to his friend. How could this be happening? Not more than two hours ago, Legolas had been dead; without a pulse, and without breath. Now he could see the eyes flicking about beneath the closed lids, and the calm rise and fall of his chest. Where once there had been death, there now was life.
He bent over Legolas, pleading for him to waken; pleading for a sign that this was real, and not some sick joke or dream.
And so it became that indeed there was no falseness in the elf's wakening. Soon, Legolas' eyes opened into the world, and gazing tiredly at the man kneeling over him. He shivered, as a blast of dusk's cool air descended upon him, followed by gusts of chilled wind, endlessly battering at his quivering figure.
"Aragorn.?"
That one word, from that voice.it seemed impossible, yet that name floated to Aragorn's ears, and he welcomed it with relief. Tears sprung to the corners of his eyes, this time not of dismay, but of joy. He could hear the frantic steps of the others, rushing in to the elf and man, to see if indeed the dead had awoken.
"Legolas." Words failed him, as he gazed down at the elf, disbelieving, yet knowing with ecstasy that every moment was real. "Are you all right?"
"Yes, I am fine, I think." Legolas spoke as if nothing out of the ordinary battle wound had happened. But, then again, Aragorn reminded himself, Legolas is a proud and valiant warrior. He would not admit if indeed he felt something was wrong.
"Are you sure?" He spent these words slowly and carefully, as if telling a young child of something very important.
"Yes, yes, Aragorn. I am fine," Legolas insisted. He rolled onto his side, and set his hands on the green earth to push himself up. As he set pressure upon his wrists, his left gave out beneath him, and he could not restrain a slight cry. Several sickening cracks and snaps sounded. The hobbits shuddered.
Aragorn shook his head. "Nay, Legolas, you are not fine. And I will not let you tell me so. We are going to Lothlorien, and I insist to carry you."
Legolas' grey orbs suddenly turned defiant and cold. "I am fine. Just help me stand, and I can go on my own." He grimaced as he cradled his broken wrist.
"Nay, my friend. Disregard your pride, and admit that you are indeed not all that well."
Legolas was about to protest, but Gimli stepped forward. "Master elf," he said with a hint of exasperation, "perhaps if you would merely cooperate, we could reach the woods ere each of us would perish."
Aragorn worked hard to suppress a smile, seeing past the annoyed tone and finding some concern and good will for the elf.
"Nay, master dwarf. I will go on my own. I need no aid."
"Ah," said Aragorn with a mischievous gleam in his eye. "But have I not always been the more rebellious of us two?" Without waiting for a response, he quickly swooped down upon the elf, and picked him up. Legolas rolled his eyes, and tried to appear angered; but the two friends could not hide their grins.
The Fellowship ran on, moving swift and quietly over the countryside. After little time, Aragorn looked down to see his friend asleep. The elf was exhausted, and now and again he would cough up blood. A journey to death and back again was not easy.
Ahead of them, a towering forest loomed up over the horizon. Lothlorien at last was within reach. Twilight had past, and darkness now descended upon the world with wings of darkness, though it was a clear night, with all the stars twinkling merrily above them. Gimli grew anxious as they approached the Elf dominated woodland. He, too, ran a little faster, though more out of a desire to keep pace than to reach the forest.
Aragorn did not stop, and even quickened his pace as they entered the forest. But as they wandered deeper into the woods, he slowed to a wary walk. He was searching. searching for other elves, or of the lofty houses in the trees in which the Lorien Elves dwelt.
But he at last halted when he walked almost directly into an arrow tip.
A/N: MOOFA!
Wow, it kinda began like crap, but I think it got better. Please R&R!
Critiques are VEEEEEEERY much appreciated. Any tips or ideas or aaaaaanything, I'll take it! R&R! Critiques never taken the wrong way!