Hi!
More torture and suspense (or so I hope...) on the way!
Again many thanks to Mor and San! Sandra, I´ve gotten a failure message when I tried to send you the chapter - maybe trouble on my part, my PC is going bananas at the moment - sorry about that!
Thanks also to my wonderful readers/reviewers - it´s great to see how many of you guys have found the story just now. I love to read your comments!!
OK, here is goes.
Another tiny cliffie ahead, by the way...
LOL
Alinah
Rating: PG 13
Disclaimer: Not mine
The sacrifice
Everything was red. A fiery haze that encompassed his world and turned it upside down. None of it mattered, though. All he cared for now were the orcs in front of him, mindless demons that had caused his family so much pain that he intended to repay them until time stopped or the Sea's call finally overcame him. In his mind, his mother's sobs echoed endlessly, filling it with so much torment that he thought it would shatter at the onslaught of misery. His hatred would easily carry his revenge through the centuries and his current foe was only one in the endless row of pawns that fell to his blade. There was no mercy in his heart.
Even so, Elladan was beginning to feel a curious doubt grow within him. At first he had taken it for misplaced pity and had fought it back without so much as a second thought. The longer the battle continued, however, the stronger he sensed that something was out of place. The orc did not fight as he should. His moves were far too graceful. And he was defensive. Elladan had in all his long years of hunting the foul creatures never encountered an orc that would fight to hinder but not kill. Sauron´s minions would run if outnumbered, but once locked in a battle they would always seek the killing blow.
Then why was this orc different? Why was he so skilful but at the same time shied away from doing serious harm? His instinct and experience told that he should have been badly injured by now, but all he suffered from were bruises and a cut to the leg that had taken him by surprise when his foe had delivered it from the ground.
This was wrong. This was not as it should be. Elladan slowly became aware of the sound of elvish that washed past his ears, but he seemed unable to comprehend the words. Where was the sound coming from? He diverted some attention from his enemy and quickly scanned the battlefield, afraid that there might be an elf in peril somewhere. Maybe his brother. Or maybe Legolas. No, not the prince. Elladan had a dim recollection of Legolas staying behind, wounded...
Elladan blinked when the world around him wavered. He shook his head, wondering whether he had been hurt more grievously than he had realized. He appeared unable to make out his surroundings clearly. There was a dark shadow hovering in the air, faced by a number of creatures whose shape seemed to jump in and out of focus. Once they were dark and stout, then they grew lithe and elegant. This was wrong.
"Tirado man im na, gwanunig-nin!" [See who I am, my twin!]
The words broke through the red cage his fury had trapped him in. Elladan's head snapped into the direction of the sound. He was shocked by the fear and pain in his brother's voice and he looked around wildly, trying to find his twin in the haze. He lashed out at the orc once more, almost blindly, intending to keep the creature at bay. The gasp of pain that followed was a surprising reward of his half-hearted effort, yet the triumph that should have lifted his spirits failed to come. His brother's voice had gone silent, and his vision betrayed him so much that he did not trust it to lead him.
"Elrohir?" Elladan could hear his own insecurity, but for now his pride was buried deeply beneath his worry. His sword toppled to the ground as his suddenly nerveless fingers released their grip. He could feel a gentle touch at his leg, a hand grasping him ever so lightly as if it had no more strength in it. Elladan´s heart began to race. The world righted itself and turned into a whirling storm of wrong.
A few paces away, Glorfindel and his father advanced on the vampire with a double shout of fury, their blades simultaneously connecting with the last fraction of the beast's skull, shattering it into an explosion of shards. Elladan, however, dreaded the sight to his feet more than the battle that raged so close yet so far away. Elrohir was covered in blood. There was so much of it that it was hard to tell where it was coming from. The hand that had been holding on to his leg began to slip and the grey eyes that had been turned to him in a silent plea grew distant and then slowly closed.
Elladan sank to his knees, totally oblivious to everything else. He gathered his twin into his arms, desperate to feel that there was still life in the battered body. "Im nev, im na le" [I´m here, I'm with you] the older twin whispered, unable to find words for his sorrow and guilt, understand what he had done. To his relief, Elrohir reacted to the sound of his voice. The younger one's features relaxed and a slight smile wiped away the pain. His eyes stayed closed, however, and his breathing was so shallow it took an elf's senses to detect it at all.
Elladan wrapped his arms around his brother protectively, fiercely determined to let no further harm befall him. An eerie breeze touched upon him, causing him to tighten his embrace when it grew into a short but violent blast. Voices called out in surprise and pain, then his father's shout rose over the din in despair. His words coated the older twin with a new layer of icy fear.
"Estel, dartho! Dartho, ion-nin!" [Estel, hold on. Hold on, my son!]
Elladan looked up to see the vampire rise high above him, completely stripped now of its skeletal shield. Blue light flared up, reaching the gathered darkness that now formed the demon's body without shattering it. Instead, the glow clearly showed the shape that was trapped within one of the black claws and Elladan cried out in angered fear at the sight of his second brother being carried away into the stormy night.
.....................................................................
There was no time, no place, no conscious thought. Wind took his breath away. Talons dug into his skin and cracked his ribs with their forceful grip. Trees raced past beneath him, their mournful lament riding the gusting storm to gently brush past his ears. A rider, far below him, sped along at a frantic pace with blond hair streaming behind him. There was the urge to call out, utter a warning, but it slipped out of his wounded mind's grasp as easily as the air that brushed past his limp body.
Sounds and sights mingled into a dizzying array of perceptions that threatened to turn his stomach, all of them coated in a blurry haze that shrouded him from life. He yearned for clarity, for one lucid moment that would make his world whole again.
When it came, it took his breath away.
The Bruinen gurgled beneath him, the little light that had not fled the vampire's approach reflecting off its unsteady surface. Legolas was standing at the shore, his expression unreadable at the distance. Still, Aragorn´s suddenly wide awake mind clearly felt his friend's terror and pain. The elf stood unsteadily, far too wounded to face his foe, and the ranger felt an overpowering need to step in and help. But at the same time he sensed his lifeline draw tight, ready to snap with the danger that engulfed him. When the claw released him, he felt no fear. He was filled with an overpowering sense of failure as he fell, the forest that had so long been his home holding its breath in the deep.
Aragorn could hear his own cry as he plunged, suddenly free of the brutal force that had held him in the air. The trees rushed to meet him, their branches stretched out like mothers beckoning a toddler into their embrace, but he knew their touch would not be gentle. He never felt the first strike that plunged him into a merciful world of darkness.
................................................................................
A scream of pain and fury rose in Legolas´ throat, but he was frozen by the sight of Aragorn´s fall. All of his mind and soul went out to his friend, willing the trees to catch him, the ground to carve in beneath his weight to break the force of the impact that was sure to come. At this moment, the elf would have sold his immortal life for the gift to stop time from its flow, to prevent what had already been done. Yet there was none to offer a trade, and so the heartbeats continued to race away the precious moments before Aragorn´s body hit the trees with a sickening crash.
The sound broke Legolas´ paralysis and finally the scream tore free, carrying with it a force he had not known to be hidden within him still. He reached out for Faun, his mind racing ahead as he saw himself crossing the short distance that separated him from the demon. Before his hands could lock onto the mane, though, his movements were violently cut short by a voice that echoed within him, gaining strength as it spoke.
"A mara sinome!" [Stay here!] There was no mistaking the easy authority in the tone, one Legolas knew well from his father when he called to his soldiers in battle. He felt no loyalty towards this entity within him, however, and no inclination to trust its orders above his friend's needs. Fighting against the current that suddenly seemed to hinder his arms from obeying him, he grit his teeth and forced his fist to close on Faun´s mane. The muscles in his body tensed as he gave them to command to mount, a motion he had performed so often his body could carry it out without the slightest need for thought.
Legolas trembled and then began shaking as the force within him tried to halt him. He sensed sadness and reluctance in the voice when it spoke again, less harshly but with all the expectancy of being obeyed. "Ea tulca ó-nin. Elwe nauta maranwe-i-mma." [Be strong with me. We are bound by our destiny.] Legolas' anger rose at the words but he could feel his weakened body budge beneath the pressure. His hands limply slid past Faun's neck as they let go. The horse suddenly shied, rolling his eyes at him as if in fear, and danced backwards with a snort. Without his consent the elf's feet moved, every step sending sparks of pain shooting through his broken leg which continued to carry him against all possibility.
The young elf fought the control with all the stubbornness he was famous for and managed to stop at the edge of the river. Panting, he ground out:" Ha al-anno men!" [There is no ´we!]
Frustration rose within him when he realized that his was a losing battle. He could clearly feel the foreign entity gaining on him, breaking down his defences with little trouble now that it was finally rising to its full capability. A flood of pictures raced through his memory, places he had never laid eyes on, faces unknown to him. He was losing himself in the flood that broke him from within.
"A aista lá inye" [Don´t fear me] the voice urged, but Legolas was beyond fear, struggling for mental breath in the whirlwind of feelings that were not his. Finally, calm came over him, subduing his anxieties and his body turned, completely freed of his control now. All Legolas could do was watch. His frantic wish to find Aragorn was the only thought within him that was still his own, and the wounded elf clung to this lifeline with all his might, knowing that if it ripped he would not only lose his friend but also himself.
.........................................................................
Legolas of Gondolin turned slowly. He could still feel the young elf who had freed him from his prison, feel his constant struggle to regain control. It would have been easiest to drown the prince's soul, for the battle within ate at the strength he would need to fight the vampire who had taken his life from him and had trapped his soul within its own icy prison. Yet even though his hatred burned strong, the ancient elf was not willing to sacrifice another innocent to his quest. He was painfully aware that he had already pulled too many into the abyss with him. The old guilt raised its ugly head at him, spitting green fire into his soul, but he subdued it with practised force. He would not give in to it now, and neither would he let the young prince lose his soul. It was enough that he might have to destroy his body.
The vampire hovered over the trees, eagerly awaiting its foe´s moves. Seeing that the elf finally fixed his eyes on it, the leering voice rose again. "Telo nev, tithen ellon" [Come here, little elf] it coaxed, "mellon-cin aníro vedui tinw cuil anno nin. Telo a tirado!" [Your friend wants to give the last spark of his life to me. Come and watch!] The black mouth opened and long fangs began to slowly descend from it, shining with a solidity that the rest of the dark shape was bereft of. "Tirado fern-tin a tirado den minno en dúath." [Watch his death and watch him being born to darkness.]
Legolas of Gondolin felt the young prince redouble his fight against his control at these words, the young one's furious will to save his friend bleeding into his ancient captor's spirit. "Va!" [Stop!] The elf´s voice rang with grim determination and he forced the prince's aching body closer to the Bruinen´s waters. It rushed past him faster than it had mere heartbeats ago. Good. So the river had sensed his plan. It ran deep here, the ford being in their backs. It might do.
The vampire stopped at the single word, slowly pushing itself higher into the air again. Its dark eyes sought out the elf with renewed interest. "Ah, so the warrior has made his return." Evil mirth oozed off its words. "Well-met again, my would-be-slayer. It has been too long." The demon bowed its shadowy head in mocking deference. The elf felt the young prince relax slightly now that the focus had been taken off his friend whose fallen body was still hidden from their sight. He could sense the resistance against him fade with their shared goal, and his strength gathered as he faced is adversary.
"It has been too long indeed", he agreed coolly, never averting his gaze from the demon even though he felt the cold of their shared past creep into his heart. "Too long for you. Your shell has been cracked and ripped from your dark core, and I can well see that what is left of you misses substance. You are fading, old one, for you have left your crypt before your time. There is still too much light in the world for you to pervert it to your will."
A shudder rippled through the trees with the shout of anger that spread from the vampire like a wave of pure hate. "There is precious little light here, my slave. Not even the mighty elven lords were able to slay me, and now you would like to attempt what you failed at before? In the form of a wounded whelp?" Laughter ripped the air, yet there was more than glee in it. There was a fear as old as their struggle.
"Aye." Legolas of Gondolin smiled. "And I wonder, if I am so easily slain in this weak body, why are you still averting me? Why are your minions crouching in the bushes, afraid to approach me?" The leaden silence that followed seemed to even slow the wind beneath the dark wings. "You had planned to claim this body for yourself", the elf continued calmly," you thought to mock me by choosing him above all others, and you planned to use his acquaintance with many of this age's powerful for your own purposes. But there is more. Your core is falling apart, weakened by lack of food and the ring's bite. You need this body." Legolas smiled, spreading his arms in invitation. "Come then, and claim what you consider yours for the taking, unless you will settle for a human's severely damaged body instead, drinking in his mortality with his soul."
Time slowed. The elf closed his eyes; his sharp ears picking up the gentle swoosh of the black wings even amidst the roar of the wind. He turned his face towards the sound and smiled as he undid the quiver's harness, letting it topple to the floor along with the knives. He then raised his arms again, waiting, baiting his foe with a vulnerability that was no pretence. The young prince within did not attempt to fight his sacrifice but embraced it, and together they waited for the darkness to fall upon them.
.......................................................................
Aragorn felt again. He tried to stop himself, but the pain that spread through his entire body would not allow him to slip away again. There was nothing but this blinding sea of torment. He could not feel where it was coming from, could not tell where he was or if any limbs were broken. The pain seemed to rise from the very ground he lay on, engulfing him in its heat. He could not move. He could not think. All he could do was feel.
Then a cool finger gently touched his skin, seeking out a pulse. A voice drifted past him without reaching him. It was soothing in its calmness. Hands travelled over his body. Smells. More touches. A liquid that somehow found its way down his throat.
The voice grew more focused when it spoke again. Aragorn heard his name. He tried to reach out for it and pull himself closer to awareness. "Estel." There was a strain in the elvish words now. "Erdo hin-cin. Tirado nin." [Open your eyes. Look at me.]
Struggling to obey, Aragorn managed to lift his heavy eyelids and then quickly closed them again against the wavering, tilting world that greeted him. A hand was placed on his shoulder. "Estel, tirado nin." The urgency grew. From somewhere another elvish voice touched upon him. It sounded familiar and yet it was not. With an effort, the ranger opened his eyes a mere fraction. There was little he could make out but swirling darkness - a blurry face - blond hair. "Legolas?" he asked weakly.
"Nay" came the quiet reply, "mellon-cin harno, im ahathon ten. Dartho nev, Estel, dartho dínen." [No, your friend is hurt, I will follow him. Stay here, Estel, stay still.] Aragorn reflexively reached out, grabbing an arm of the retreating elf. Pain flared in him at the sudden movement and he groaned, a wave of darkness clashing above him. He struggled to come to the surface again and when he did the pale elven face was still there, its expression unreadable in the red haze that shrouded it. "Sidh, Estel, im berithon Legolas, im gweston." [Peace, Estel. I will protect Legolas, I swear.] Guilt dripped from the words, making Aragorn wonder at the reason, but then the elf gently disengaged from the ranger's grip and moved away.
Squinting desperately, Aragorn tried to follow the figure's path in the dark when suddenly a screech split the air. It was high-pitched and full of fury. A cold gust swept past him, making the earth groan, and then a sudden cry came from the direction the lone elf had disappeared to. "Legolas, baw! Baw!" [Legolas, no! No!]
The screech rose into a hate-filled scream. The ground trembled. A deafening roar tore through the night, swallowing all that there had been. Then there was silence. The winds died. There was no more to see or hear.
TBC
Now, that was not so bad, was it? ;-)
Review comments:
Mornflower: Hi!! Thanks - glad to hear I´ve got you hooked. And for you this update was really fast, lol
Tychen: LOL, I had this trouble with too. Well, I know, that cliffie was mean, but I could not resist. Good that your teddy bear is keeping you company when it gets dark outside...
WhiteWolf1: Well, he did NOT fall off a cliff, have you noticed? :) I know what you mean, of course. And yes, bad shape for both, but their friendship also strengthens them...
Lorderita: Hello! Great name you´ve got there ;-) Oh wow, you read it all in one go?? I´m honored you spent so much time in one day with my story. Don´t worry about he updates, they will be quite regular and there is not too much left...Thanks for the praise!!
Demon Faith: LOL, yes, poor them! I hope the update came soon enough for you...
Ertia: I had the same problem - sometimes can really keep us all busy. Thanks for reviewing anyway!! By the way, I was not aware I needed permission to torture anybody - uh-oh, if that is true I see heavy fees coming my way, lol
Alariel: Of course -slaps forehead - I should have remembered that! Your in-depth knowledge never fails to amaze me. :)
Silvertoekee: Aww, sorry for the evil cliffie - well, sort of ;-) Yes, I am a bit mean to them, but I swear, I´ll make up for it at some point. ;-)
Gayalondiel: Hi!! Thank you so much!! I would not have thought that hobbit-friends could be captured by my stories, your comment made me so proud! I really like the hobbits, too, but I have not the heart to include the poor fellows in my mean tales - maybe I will one day, we´ll see. Thank you again, I hope you´ll also like the rest of the story.
Moralinde: Not minor? LOL But see, I did not let Aragorn die. He´s a tough cookie. Thanks!!
NightShadow131: Thanks :) I did not really give Legolas a break, I´m afraid, I just tried to give them both some action at the same time, lol
Deana: Thanks!! And the update´s already here...
Great big hug to all of you - thank you for your kind words!!
More torture and suspense (or so I hope...) on the way!
Again many thanks to Mor and San! Sandra, I´ve gotten a failure message when I tried to send you the chapter - maybe trouble on my part, my PC is going bananas at the moment - sorry about that!
Thanks also to my wonderful readers/reviewers - it´s great to see how many of you guys have found the story just now. I love to read your comments!!
OK, here is goes.
Another tiny cliffie ahead, by the way...
LOL
Alinah
Rating: PG 13
Disclaimer: Not mine
The sacrifice
Everything was red. A fiery haze that encompassed his world and turned it upside down. None of it mattered, though. All he cared for now were the orcs in front of him, mindless demons that had caused his family so much pain that he intended to repay them until time stopped or the Sea's call finally overcame him. In his mind, his mother's sobs echoed endlessly, filling it with so much torment that he thought it would shatter at the onslaught of misery. His hatred would easily carry his revenge through the centuries and his current foe was only one in the endless row of pawns that fell to his blade. There was no mercy in his heart.
Even so, Elladan was beginning to feel a curious doubt grow within him. At first he had taken it for misplaced pity and had fought it back without so much as a second thought. The longer the battle continued, however, the stronger he sensed that something was out of place. The orc did not fight as he should. His moves were far too graceful. And he was defensive. Elladan had in all his long years of hunting the foul creatures never encountered an orc that would fight to hinder but not kill. Sauron´s minions would run if outnumbered, but once locked in a battle they would always seek the killing blow.
Then why was this orc different? Why was he so skilful but at the same time shied away from doing serious harm? His instinct and experience told that he should have been badly injured by now, but all he suffered from were bruises and a cut to the leg that had taken him by surprise when his foe had delivered it from the ground.
This was wrong. This was not as it should be. Elladan slowly became aware of the sound of elvish that washed past his ears, but he seemed unable to comprehend the words. Where was the sound coming from? He diverted some attention from his enemy and quickly scanned the battlefield, afraid that there might be an elf in peril somewhere. Maybe his brother. Or maybe Legolas. No, not the prince. Elladan had a dim recollection of Legolas staying behind, wounded...
Elladan blinked when the world around him wavered. He shook his head, wondering whether he had been hurt more grievously than he had realized. He appeared unable to make out his surroundings clearly. There was a dark shadow hovering in the air, faced by a number of creatures whose shape seemed to jump in and out of focus. Once they were dark and stout, then they grew lithe and elegant. This was wrong.
"Tirado man im na, gwanunig-nin!" [See who I am, my twin!]
The words broke through the red cage his fury had trapped him in. Elladan's head snapped into the direction of the sound. He was shocked by the fear and pain in his brother's voice and he looked around wildly, trying to find his twin in the haze. He lashed out at the orc once more, almost blindly, intending to keep the creature at bay. The gasp of pain that followed was a surprising reward of his half-hearted effort, yet the triumph that should have lifted his spirits failed to come. His brother's voice had gone silent, and his vision betrayed him so much that he did not trust it to lead him.
"Elrohir?" Elladan could hear his own insecurity, but for now his pride was buried deeply beneath his worry. His sword toppled to the ground as his suddenly nerveless fingers released their grip. He could feel a gentle touch at his leg, a hand grasping him ever so lightly as if it had no more strength in it. Elladan´s heart began to race. The world righted itself and turned into a whirling storm of wrong.
A few paces away, Glorfindel and his father advanced on the vampire with a double shout of fury, their blades simultaneously connecting with the last fraction of the beast's skull, shattering it into an explosion of shards. Elladan, however, dreaded the sight to his feet more than the battle that raged so close yet so far away. Elrohir was covered in blood. There was so much of it that it was hard to tell where it was coming from. The hand that had been holding on to his leg began to slip and the grey eyes that had been turned to him in a silent plea grew distant and then slowly closed.
Elladan sank to his knees, totally oblivious to everything else. He gathered his twin into his arms, desperate to feel that there was still life in the battered body. "Im nev, im na le" [I´m here, I'm with you] the older twin whispered, unable to find words for his sorrow and guilt, understand what he had done. To his relief, Elrohir reacted to the sound of his voice. The younger one's features relaxed and a slight smile wiped away the pain. His eyes stayed closed, however, and his breathing was so shallow it took an elf's senses to detect it at all.
Elladan wrapped his arms around his brother protectively, fiercely determined to let no further harm befall him. An eerie breeze touched upon him, causing him to tighten his embrace when it grew into a short but violent blast. Voices called out in surprise and pain, then his father's shout rose over the din in despair. His words coated the older twin with a new layer of icy fear.
"Estel, dartho! Dartho, ion-nin!" [Estel, hold on. Hold on, my son!]
Elladan looked up to see the vampire rise high above him, completely stripped now of its skeletal shield. Blue light flared up, reaching the gathered darkness that now formed the demon's body without shattering it. Instead, the glow clearly showed the shape that was trapped within one of the black claws and Elladan cried out in angered fear at the sight of his second brother being carried away into the stormy night.
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There was no time, no place, no conscious thought. Wind took his breath away. Talons dug into his skin and cracked his ribs with their forceful grip. Trees raced past beneath him, their mournful lament riding the gusting storm to gently brush past his ears. A rider, far below him, sped along at a frantic pace with blond hair streaming behind him. There was the urge to call out, utter a warning, but it slipped out of his wounded mind's grasp as easily as the air that brushed past his limp body.
Sounds and sights mingled into a dizzying array of perceptions that threatened to turn his stomach, all of them coated in a blurry haze that shrouded him from life. He yearned for clarity, for one lucid moment that would make his world whole again.
When it came, it took his breath away.
The Bruinen gurgled beneath him, the little light that had not fled the vampire's approach reflecting off its unsteady surface. Legolas was standing at the shore, his expression unreadable at the distance. Still, Aragorn´s suddenly wide awake mind clearly felt his friend's terror and pain. The elf stood unsteadily, far too wounded to face his foe, and the ranger felt an overpowering need to step in and help. But at the same time he sensed his lifeline draw tight, ready to snap with the danger that engulfed him. When the claw released him, he felt no fear. He was filled with an overpowering sense of failure as he fell, the forest that had so long been his home holding its breath in the deep.
Aragorn could hear his own cry as he plunged, suddenly free of the brutal force that had held him in the air. The trees rushed to meet him, their branches stretched out like mothers beckoning a toddler into their embrace, but he knew their touch would not be gentle. He never felt the first strike that plunged him into a merciful world of darkness.
................................................................................
A scream of pain and fury rose in Legolas´ throat, but he was frozen by the sight of Aragorn´s fall. All of his mind and soul went out to his friend, willing the trees to catch him, the ground to carve in beneath his weight to break the force of the impact that was sure to come. At this moment, the elf would have sold his immortal life for the gift to stop time from its flow, to prevent what had already been done. Yet there was none to offer a trade, and so the heartbeats continued to race away the precious moments before Aragorn´s body hit the trees with a sickening crash.
The sound broke Legolas´ paralysis and finally the scream tore free, carrying with it a force he had not known to be hidden within him still. He reached out for Faun, his mind racing ahead as he saw himself crossing the short distance that separated him from the demon. Before his hands could lock onto the mane, though, his movements were violently cut short by a voice that echoed within him, gaining strength as it spoke.
"A mara sinome!" [Stay here!] There was no mistaking the easy authority in the tone, one Legolas knew well from his father when he called to his soldiers in battle. He felt no loyalty towards this entity within him, however, and no inclination to trust its orders above his friend's needs. Fighting against the current that suddenly seemed to hinder his arms from obeying him, he grit his teeth and forced his fist to close on Faun´s mane. The muscles in his body tensed as he gave them to command to mount, a motion he had performed so often his body could carry it out without the slightest need for thought.
Legolas trembled and then began shaking as the force within him tried to halt him. He sensed sadness and reluctance in the voice when it spoke again, less harshly but with all the expectancy of being obeyed. "Ea tulca ó-nin. Elwe nauta maranwe-i-mma." [Be strong with me. We are bound by our destiny.] Legolas' anger rose at the words but he could feel his weakened body budge beneath the pressure. His hands limply slid past Faun's neck as they let go. The horse suddenly shied, rolling his eyes at him as if in fear, and danced backwards with a snort. Without his consent the elf's feet moved, every step sending sparks of pain shooting through his broken leg which continued to carry him against all possibility.
The young elf fought the control with all the stubbornness he was famous for and managed to stop at the edge of the river. Panting, he ground out:" Ha al-anno men!" [There is no ´we!]
Frustration rose within him when he realized that his was a losing battle. He could clearly feel the foreign entity gaining on him, breaking down his defences with little trouble now that it was finally rising to its full capability. A flood of pictures raced through his memory, places he had never laid eyes on, faces unknown to him. He was losing himself in the flood that broke him from within.
"A aista lá inye" [Don´t fear me] the voice urged, but Legolas was beyond fear, struggling for mental breath in the whirlwind of feelings that were not his. Finally, calm came over him, subduing his anxieties and his body turned, completely freed of his control now. All Legolas could do was watch. His frantic wish to find Aragorn was the only thought within him that was still his own, and the wounded elf clung to this lifeline with all his might, knowing that if it ripped he would not only lose his friend but also himself.
.........................................................................
Legolas of Gondolin turned slowly. He could still feel the young elf who had freed him from his prison, feel his constant struggle to regain control. It would have been easiest to drown the prince's soul, for the battle within ate at the strength he would need to fight the vampire who had taken his life from him and had trapped his soul within its own icy prison. Yet even though his hatred burned strong, the ancient elf was not willing to sacrifice another innocent to his quest. He was painfully aware that he had already pulled too many into the abyss with him. The old guilt raised its ugly head at him, spitting green fire into his soul, but he subdued it with practised force. He would not give in to it now, and neither would he let the young prince lose his soul. It was enough that he might have to destroy his body.
The vampire hovered over the trees, eagerly awaiting its foe´s moves. Seeing that the elf finally fixed his eyes on it, the leering voice rose again. "Telo nev, tithen ellon" [Come here, little elf] it coaxed, "mellon-cin aníro vedui tinw cuil anno nin. Telo a tirado!" [Your friend wants to give the last spark of his life to me. Come and watch!] The black mouth opened and long fangs began to slowly descend from it, shining with a solidity that the rest of the dark shape was bereft of. "Tirado fern-tin a tirado den minno en dúath." [Watch his death and watch him being born to darkness.]
Legolas of Gondolin felt the young prince redouble his fight against his control at these words, the young one's furious will to save his friend bleeding into his ancient captor's spirit. "Va!" [Stop!] The elf´s voice rang with grim determination and he forced the prince's aching body closer to the Bruinen´s waters. It rushed past him faster than it had mere heartbeats ago. Good. So the river had sensed his plan. It ran deep here, the ford being in their backs. It might do.
The vampire stopped at the single word, slowly pushing itself higher into the air again. Its dark eyes sought out the elf with renewed interest. "Ah, so the warrior has made his return." Evil mirth oozed off its words. "Well-met again, my would-be-slayer. It has been too long." The demon bowed its shadowy head in mocking deference. The elf felt the young prince relax slightly now that the focus had been taken off his friend whose fallen body was still hidden from their sight. He could sense the resistance against him fade with their shared goal, and his strength gathered as he faced is adversary.
"It has been too long indeed", he agreed coolly, never averting his gaze from the demon even though he felt the cold of their shared past creep into his heart. "Too long for you. Your shell has been cracked and ripped from your dark core, and I can well see that what is left of you misses substance. You are fading, old one, for you have left your crypt before your time. There is still too much light in the world for you to pervert it to your will."
A shudder rippled through the trees with the shout of anger that spread from the vampire like a wave of pure hate. "There is precious little light here, my slave. Not even the mighty elven lords were able to slay me, and now you would like to attempt what you failed at before? In the form of a wounded whelp?" Laughter ripped the air, yet there was more than glee in it. There was a fear as old as their struggle.
"Aye." Legolas of Gondolin smiled. "And I wonder, if I am so easily slain in this weak body, why are you still averting me? Why are your minions crouching in the bushes, afraid to approach me?" The leaden silence that followed seemed to even slow the wind beneath the dark wings. "You had planned to claim this body for yourself", the elf continued calmly," you thought to mock me by choosing him above all others, and you planned to use his acquaintance with many of this age's powerful for your own purposes. But there is more. Your core is falling apart, weakened by lack of food and the ring's bite. You need this body." Legolas smiled, spreading his arms in invitation. "Come then, and claim what you consider yours for the taking, unless you will settle for a human's severely damaged body instead, drinking in his mortality with his soul."
Time slowed. The elf closed his eyes; his sharp ears picking up the gentle swoosh of the black wings even amidst the roar of the wind. He turned his face towards the sound and smiled as he undid the quiver's harness, letting it topple to the floor along with the knives. He then raised his arms again, waiting, baiting his foe with a vulnerability that was no pretence. The young prince within did not attempt to fight his sacrifice but embraced it, and together they waited for the darkness to fall upon them.
.......................................................................
Aragorn felt again. He tried to stop himself, but the pain that spread through his entire body would not allow him to slip away again. There was nothing but this blinding sea of torment. He could not feel where it was coming from, could not tell where he was or if any limbs were broken. The pain seemed to rise from the very ground he lay on, engulfing him in its heat. He could not move. He could not think. All he could do was feel.
Then a cool finger gently touched his skin, seeking out a pulse. A voice drifted past him without reaching him. It was soothing in its calmness. Hands travelled over his body. Smells. More touches. A liquid that somehow found its way down his throat.
The voice grew more focused when it spoke again. Aragorn heard his name. He tried to reach out for it and pull himself closer to awareness. "Estel." There was a strain in the elvish words now. "Erdo hin-cin. Tirado nin." [Open your eyes. Look at me.]
Struggling to obey, Aragorn managed to lift his heavy eyelids and then quickly closed them again against the wavering, tilting world that greeted him. A hand was placed on his shoulder. "Estel, tirado nin." The urgency grew. From somewhere another elvish voice touched upon him. It sounded familiar and yet it was not. With an effort, the ranger opened his eyes a mere fraction. There was little he could make out but swirling darkness - a blurry face - blond hair. "Legolas?" he asked weakly.
"Nay" came the quiet reply, "mellon-cin harno, im ahathon ten. Dartho nev, Estel, dartho dínen." [No, your friend is hurt, I will follow him. Stay here, Estel, stay still.] Aragorn reflexively reached out, grabbing an arm of the retreating elf. Pain flared in him at the sudden movement and he groaned, a wave of darkness clashing above him. He struggled to come to the surface again and when he did the pale elven face was still there, its expression unreadable in the red haze that shrouded it. "Sidh, Estel, im berithon Legolas, im gweston." [Peace, Estel. I will protect Legolas, I swear.] Guilt dripped from the words, making Aragorn wonder at the reason, but then the elf gently disengaged from the ranger's grip and moved away.
Squinting desperately, Aragorn tried to follow the figure's path in the dark when suddenly a screech split the air. It was high-pitched and full of fury. A cold gust swept past him, making the earth groan, and then a sudden cry came from the direction the lone elf had disappeared to. "Legolas, baw! Baw!" [Legolas, no! No!]
The screech rose into a hate-filled scream. The ground trembled. A deafening roar tore through the night, swallowing all that there had been. Then there was silence. The winds died. There was no more to see or hear.
TBC
Now, that was not so bad, was it? ;-)
Review comments:
Mornflower: Hi!! Thanks - glad to hear I´ve got you hooked. And for you this update was really fast, lol
Tychen: LOL, I had this trouble with too. Well, I know, that cliffie was mean, but I could not resist. Good that your teddy bear is keeping you company when it gets dark outside...
WhiteWolf1: Well, he did NOT fall off a cliff, have you noticed? :) I know what you mean, of course. And yes, bad shape for both, but their friendship also strengthens them...
Lorderita: Hello! Great name you´ve got there ;-) Oh wow, you read it all in one go?? I´m honored you spent so much time in one day with my story. Don´t worry about he updates, they will be quite regular and there is not too much left...Thanks for the praise!!
Demon Faith: LOL, yes, poor them! I hope the update came soon enough for you...
Ertia: I had the same problem - sometimes can really keep us all busy. Thanks for reviewing anyway!! By the way, I was not aware I needed permission to torture anybody - uh-oh, if that is true I see heavy fees coming my way, lol
Alariel: Of course -slaps forehead - I should have remembered that! Your in-depth knowledge never fails to amaze me. :)
Silvertoekee: Aww, sorry for the evil cliffie - well, sort of ;-) Yes, I am a bit mean to them, but I swear, I´ll make up for it at some point. ;-)
Gayalondiel: Hi!! Thank you so much!! I would not have thought that hobbit-friends could be captured by my stories, your comment made me so proud! I really like the hobbits, too, but I have not the heart to include the poor fellows in my mean tales - maybe I will one day, we´ll see. Thank you again, I hope you´ll also like the rest of the story.
Moralinde: Not minor? LOL But see, I did not let Aragorn die. He´s a tough cookie. Thanks!!
NightShadow131: Thanks :) I did not really give Legolas a break, I´m afraid, I just tried to give them both some action at the same time, lol
Deana: Thanks!! And the update´s already here...
Great big hug to all of you - thank you for your kind words!!