"Legolas! Legolas, where are you?" Thranduil yelled, dropping to the ground so that the flames licking at his cloak would be extinguished. "Legolas!"
When he got no reply, the Elven-king cursed, and crawled forwards through the smoke, keeping his body pressed close to the forest floor. As he looked wildly about, his normally tidy hair fell down into his eyes, blowing uncontrollably in the driving wind. Rain was still falling, but it was not enough to put out the fire. Heavier rain could only be prayed for.
There was a sudden sharp pain in Thranduil's hand, and he grimaced as the realisation hit that a shard of glass had been embedded in his skin. Glass? Why was there glass on the forest floor? But the questions were driven from his mind as yet another branch collapsed and fell to the ground, sparking furiously. He inhaled sharply, and threw himself out of harms way, just in time.
There came a faint cry from the other side of the clearing, and he snapped his head up quickly. Legolas…. Hope filled the King's heart, for at least his youngest still lived. He strained his eyes through the smoke, and breathed a sigh of relief as he saw both of his sons' outlines.
Saying a quick prayer to the Valar, Thranduil pushed himself off the ground and through to Legolas. His vision was obscured not just by smoke, but also tears. Whether they were tears of relief, sadness or anger, he would never know.
When he reached the bottom of the tree that his wife had fallen to her death from all those years ago, the Elven-king dropped to the ground next to his children. He ran his eyes quickly over their bodies, hoping against hope that they were both safe. Though, he only had to take one look at Airëlus to realise that he was too late for him.
"Ada…" Legolas breathed.
Thranduil did not speak as he reached out to take his eldest son's body. He feared that should he even try and say anything, he would be overcome with grief. He knew though, that there would come a time later on when he could grieve for Airëlus. He had to save his other child before that time, though.
"No, you cannot have him!" Legolas yelled, backing away.
"Do not be so stupid!" Thranduil snapped. "I do not have strength enough to take both of you."
The Prince shook his head in disbelief and pulled his brother closer to him, even as the flames continued roaring around them. But he was oblivious to it all. Thranduil stared in amazement for a moment before pushing Legolas' hands away. Laying his eldest son's body on the ground and not being able to shed tears for him was one of the hardest things that he had ever had to do. But he forced his attention back to his youngest child, and lifted him into his arms.
"Don't leave him," Legolas breathed, grabbing the front of his father's tunic. "You cannot leave Airëlus alone in here. Take him out first."
Thranduil spun around and ran forwards, tightening his grip as the Prince began to struggle. "I will come back for him. But I must get you out of here."
Legolas bit his lip and turned his face into the Elven-king's chest as smoke engulfed them. He wanted so much to go back to Airëlus, but deep down, he knew that he was too weak. But now there was something else to worry about: his father would be coming back into the flames. In doing that, he could be going straight to his death. There was a possibility that he could…
"We are nearly out of here. You are safe," Thranduil said softly, pausing to pull his cloak up so that their faces would be shielded when they ran through the flames.
The Prince nodded slowly as they went forwards. Fire licked at them, and they could not help but hiss in pain, but Thranduil blocked everything out and dived through, falling into the Elven soldiers on the other side who were valiantly trying to beat away some of the flames. Needless to say they were succeeding only a little.
"Your Highness!" Suithien cried, reaching out and pulling Legolas into his own arms.
"I am fine. Look after my son," Thranduil replied in a low voice. With that, he spun around and ran back into the blazing clearing, determined that he would emerge with Airëlus.
"Bring him through here," Lord Elrond ordered, shaking away the fear that he felt for his friend's safety. He pulled off his cloak and threw it down onto the soaking forest floor, watching in concern as Suithien made his way through the trees with the Prince.
As soon as he was free of any tight holds, Legolas pushed himself up from the ground. His whole body exploded in fresh waves of pain, but he forced himself to ignore it. "My father will not come out alive! He is going to die!"
"Legolas, lie still," Elrond commanded, gently pushing the younger Elf back down.
"But he…my father will…" the Prince began helplessly. "Please." He tried to fight against the restraint on his chest, but was immediately held back by hands on his shoulders. He looked up into the fearful faces of the twins.
"I am so sorry," Estel whispered, coming to kneel in front of his friend. He reached out and drew Legolas to him, lowering his eyes as guilt washed over him.
Although the Elf heard the words, he did not care for them. And when one of the twins draped a cloak over his trembling shoulders, he did not even notice. He just stared unseeingly straight ahead, silently praying over and over again that his father's life would be spared. If the King should be lost, he knew that there would be nothing which could save him from fading.
"Your father will live," Elrond said softly. "He has been very foolish, and yes, he risked his life. But look at the rain, pen-neth. It is much heavier now, and the flames will have been beaten down somewhat."
"That will not bring Airëlus back," Legolas muttered.
Estel drew in a sharp breath and sat back on his heels, holding his friend at arm's length. "Then it is true."
A stunned silence broken only by the roaring of the flames back in the clearing descended on the group as the realisation hit that the Crown Prince really was lost. All of them had held hope that he would live, that they had arrived in time to save him. Elrohir looked down at the ground with tear filled eyes, whilst Elrond and the gathered soldiers had to swallow down lumps in their throats. Elladan, however, knelt beside Legolas and touched a hand to his arm.
"I am so sorry," he said softly. "I did not imagine that…"
"Why so surprised?" Legolas asked, raising his head to look at everyone. "You knew that something was going to happen. All of you did. And Elladan, do not say that you did not imagine anything like this happening, because you did. Of course you did. After all, you were the one who had the dream. Why did you still hope for my brother's life?"
"Did you give up hope?" Elladan asked softly.
Legolas nodded slowly. "Eventually. And I have no hope left now. My father will die in there, like my brothers." He paused, and pushed a lock of soaking hair off his face. "Tell me, why did it come as a shock to you that Airëlus is dead?"
"You are upset," Estel said softly. "But you must not give up hope. Not now, not at a time like this. I know that you are not one to give up your hope and beliefs."
"I want to know why you were shocked to learn of Airëlus' death," Legolas ground out.
Elladan sighed, and touched a hand to his friend's shoulder. "I thought that….When I heard that your father was going back in there, I presumed that….that Airëlus still lived. We all did."
"You presumed wrong," Legolas choked out.
Without saying a word, Estel moved slightly so that he was sitting next to the Elf instead of in front of him. He put an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. Legolas tried to resist at first, but when he realised that there was comfort to be found in the embrace, he buried his face in the mortal's shoulder, letting his tears fall as freely as the rain.
Elrohir watched helplessly, wishing that there was something he could do to make the young Prince feel at least a little better. He knew though, that if Thranduil did not make it out of the fire, then Legolas' life would be destroyed. As a thought that was not his own entered his mind, the dark haired Elf turned to his twin and arched an eyebrow.
'Calaen is dead, then?' Elladan asked in his mind.
'I presume so. After all, Legolas said 'brothers' not 'brother', did he not? But what if Thranduil does not-
'Stop thinking like that!' Elladan thought sharply. 'He will make it out of there alive. Whatever happened to positive thinking? Honestly, I know better than to come to you in a crisis. You would be no help, that's for sure.'
Elrohir held up his hands in mock defence, and shook his head silently. 'Calm down, Elladan. I do not want you to flare up again, but the flames are still going strong. I just think that we should be prepared for-
'Ai Elbereth! I have already told you to stop thinking like that. In fact, just stop thinking,' Elladan said silently. He rolled his eyes and turned away, shutting his brother out of his mind as he did so.
Elrond watched his sons quietly, wishing he knew what they had been saying to each other. It was an ability that they had been gifted with ever since they were able to communicate properly, and needless to say that having to sit in a silent room with them, and then have one of them break into fits of laughter at random intervals, was more than irritating.
A sudden noise from just outside the trees alerted everyone, and they all watched and waited in anticipation. Every single Elf was praying to the Valar, none more so than Legolas. He sat up and held his breath, unaware of Estel grabbing his hand, for his attention was fixed entirely on any movement in front of him.
After what seemed an age but in reality was no more than a minute, the leaves in front of them rustled, and a slender figure came through, coughing and holding a hand to his chest. It was Thranduil, but at that moment, he looked nothing like the King he was: his tunic was ripped and burned, and his un-braided hair hung limply around his face, which was covered with smudges of dirt.
"Ada," Legolas breathed.
Thranduil sank to the ground next to his son, and the two locked eyes for a brief moment, before the elder reached out and pulled the younger forwards. Legolas inhaled sharply and threw his arms around his neck, a maelstrom of emotions whirling inside him: anger, relief, sadness, pain.
"I nearly lost you again," Thranduil whispered.
"I'm sorry," Legolas said helplessly.
"No, it does not matter now. You are safe." The Elven-king sighed deeply and looked up at Elrond, who stood a little way back. The elder Elf shook his head in silence, a gesture of sympathy.
"Where is Airëlus?" Legolas asked softly, biting back fresh tears that were threatening to spill.
Thranduil shook his head and got to his feet, pulling the Prince with him. "He is out of the clearing. He…his body is being taken care of."
"What do you mean?" Legolas whispered.
"A bier is being constructed for him, and he will be taken back to the palace, along with any others who have fallen." As he spoke, the Elven-king's voice choked with emotion, and his eyes shone with tears.
"Others that have fallen?" Elrond asked softly.
Thranduil looked across at the Noldor Elf, and sighed deeply. "Soldiers ran in after me. Not all made it out of there alive."
A tense silence fell on the group as more prayers were thought for the Elves who had so valiantly fallen in the path of the deadly flames. Legolas shook his head in confusion. He knew that Airëlus was dead, yet every part of him was screaming that it could not be true. As he glanced over at the trees, he half expected his brother to come walking through them. But deep down, he knew that would never happen.
"Your Highness, what of the fire?" Suithien asked sadly. "Is it in any condition to be fought down?"
"No, though it is not as bad as it was," Thranduil replied. "If the rain keeps up, then we will be lucky. Do what you think is best. I am sorry, I cannot…" He trailed off into silence, and shook his head helplessly.
"I understand," the commander said softly. "Your Highness, return to the palace. Leave us to deal with everything here."
"Thank you," Thranduil muttered, putting an arm around Legolas' shoulders. The younger Elf stifled a sob and leant into the embrace as he was led away from the group, silently followed by Lord Elrond and his sons.
The remaining warriors watched the departure of their King and last remaining Prince in sadness. Years ago, there had been five members of the Royal Family of Mirkwood. But now, now there were two. And their lives had just been viciously torn apart, and destroyed in the worst way possible.
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