As promised, the next chapter. Once I've done this, I'll get on with the others. PLEASE DON'T KILL ME! I will understand your reasons for doing so, but if you do, then I won't be able to finish the story!
Cos yeah, there's more!
Faerlain.
Chapter 5: The Easy Way Out.
"NO!"
Legolas desperately fired arrow after arrow. His brother was completely surrounded by a mixture of goblins and Orcs. He had already been stabbed once, and Legolas had just seen a swarm of arrows head towards him. Férar had completely disappeared from his sight, and he felt the panic grip his stomach painfully.
"Férar! Férar!"
He struggled his way through the mass of beasts. Their horses had bolted, and they only had one scout to help them. He cut and sliced his way through the crowd, hoping beyond hope Férar was still alive.
If he dies, it'll be my fault…
He found him when he almost fell over him. He was knelt on the floor, blood gushing from a wound in his side. Dead goblins and Orcs were everywhere, some with arrows, some with missing heads and limbs, and others full of stab wounds.
Legolas held his brother tightly. "Its ok Férar, we'll get out of here."
"Look out for yourself Legolas," he choked out. "I'm fine. First rule of combat, look after Number 1!"
"Which is you at this present moment." He helped his brother to his feet, and slung one of his arms round his own shoulders. He half-dragged, half-walked Férar out of the crowd. He only had one hand to protect them with, and every time an Orc or goblin came anywhere near them, Legolas quickly slit his throat or stabbed him in random places.
He lay him down beside a clump of trees, and turned to face the battle. The enemy could see he was trying to protect his brother, and so thought him weaker. But if anything, he had found renewed strength, and was even more dangerous.
Using his bow, he fired in rapid succession into the mob. Someone fell with every arrow he shot, only a few dying slowly. Any who were still alive, he left them to struggle. It was no more than they deserved.
Soon he was out of arrows, and Férar handed him his own. The number seemed to decrease a little, but still they came. They knew they were surely going straight to their deaths, but refused to give up. They were created to kill, designed to slaughter. And so kill and slaughter they would.
"Only ten left Legolas!" Férar called up to him. "You're going to have to use your knives in a minute."
Legolas just nodded in affirmation. He was faring better with his bow, but it was useless without the arrows. He used the last ten carefully; seeking out the goblins and Orcs that looked like leaders. He always tried to aim for the neck. It killed them more or less instantly. Quite messy when all the blood came pouring out, but at least it worked.
The arrows quickly ran out, and he unsheathed his knives. He knew his foes would take advantage of this, and try to get as close as possible.
He looked round at the other Elves that were fighting with them. He could see nearly all of them were injured in some way, but continued to fight to their best ability. They would not let their Princes down. He made a mental note to thank them all copiously when they got back to the palace.
His thoughts were interrupted as the first goblins launched themselves at him. He parried every blow they dealt, using one knife to block the swing, using the other to wound his combatant. It usually took a few slashes or stabs to actually kill the beasts, and he had to find a quicker and easier way to do so.
After a few minutes of this, he was covered in thick, black blood, and his arms were starting to ache. His fingers were already sore from pulling the bowstring, and his hands were burning. He would not be able to keep this up for much longer.
Half the enemy were dead by now, and yet they still continued to attack the Elves. They were filled with some kind of passion to kill, just like Legolas had felt when he had discovered what had happened to his mother. Except they had felt this all their lives. They were not seeking revenge for anyone. They were fighting for themselves, killing for the fun of it. They needed no reasons. It was their life, their 'job'. Their pleasure, their pain. For they found the butchering pleasurable, fun, good. But they were always injured, which caused them pain.
Legolas had often wondered whether goblins and Orcs and Wargs used to be like them. He knew Orcs were bred in mockery of Elves, poor souls that had been captured and tortured. But goblins…had they always been evil? And the Wargs…?
That was what he had thought when he was a child. Now he was older, he understood that they were just pure evil. They had always been the same, and nothing would ever change them.
He felt the sting of a scimitar slice his upper left arm, and the blood running down it. He bit his lip, ignoring the pain. The work was twice as hard now, the wound affecting his fighting.
He could hear his brother shouting encouragement to the Elves, and he tried to listen, tried to let the words give him some sense of hope and comfort. As long as he could hear Férar's voice, he knew his brother was safe, and that he himself could hold on to something. He had to get Férar back to the palace in one piece. If he didn't, his father would go mad!
He ducked as black arrows came flying towards them, thudding into the tree trunks behind. They were answered by Elven arrows streaming out of the trees. Legolas knew that another scout had arrived to help them. The panic subsided a little.
He needed a break. His strength was draining away like water. He could hardly hold himself upright. Why was he feeling so weak? He never usually suffered this way.
His mother's words came back to him. When she had come to him a few nights ago.
"We never had a chance to say goodbye Legolas. This is the only opportunity we'll get. Please, this is the only thing I am asking. Do not do this! You will die…"
"I will not die Naneth," he growled through clenched teeth as he blocked yet another attack. He felt his arm jar under the force of the blow, and had to swerve his whole body to miss being sliced completely in two. He leant back against a trunk, and tried to get his arm back into working order. Some more Elves came to his aid, and felled the goblins that were trying to get to him.
"I promise," he continued, glancing at Férar. His older brother was hiding in amongst the trees, cradling some fabric to his bleeding abdomen.
"Keep your eyes on your back," he hissed. "Never mind about me. I'm ok."
Legolas nodded. Before he went back into the fray, he faltered, looking back at the Crown Prince. "I love you Férar," he told him.
Férar looked up back at him sharply, but smiled. "I love you too Greenleaf. Look after yourself out there."
Legolas nodded, and charged back into the battle.
"Keep your eyes on your back…"
"Always keep your eyes on your back…"
The world span, the ground came racing up to meet him as he collapsed to his knees, then slumped onto his side.
"Watch your back at all times Greenleaf…"Férar…
He was too weak to call out for his brother. He let his knives fall to the floor beside him, and lifted his hand to his right side. Blood was pouring out freely, soaking the grass around him.
This is it. I'm going to die…
His heart was beating frantically, but he felt it slow as he lost more and more blood. The goblins and Orcs were almost all dead! He had to carry on…
Please, this is the only thing I am asking. Do not do this! You will die…
I'm sorry Naneth. I'm sorry Adar. I'm sorry Férar. Forgive me.
The sky was very blue today. Dotted with a few fluffy white clouds. Birds wheeled overhead, watching the battle below with little interest, just waiting for peace to resume so they could return to their perches in the trees. There was a light breeze, moving the clouds along at a gentle pace.
A nice day to die…
Death. Perhaps it was inevitable. It was bound to happen to him sometime. He had been in so many battles; he could not come out of all of them unscathed.
And perhaps it wouldn't be so bad. At least he would be back with his mother. Thranduil and Férar would be ok, surely? Mind you, two deaths in such quick succession…
He couldn't feel any pain. His right side was just numb. His hand lay over the gaping wound, the blood trickling through his fingers.
Aragorn…Gimli…
He would never see them again. Gimli would be so angry with him for letting himself get hurt. And Aragorn…what would the King do? He and Legolas had been great friends for years. They had been through so much together.
Legolas felt the tears running down his cheeks. He didn't even try and stop them. There was no point anymore. There was no point in anything.
Death was an easy way out for him now. He had seen too much bloodshed and loss of life. It was time to forget. And death was the only way he seemed able to do it.
The trees were also very green. The birdsong was sweet in his ears. He couldn't hear the sound of the fighting anymore. Just the birds singing, high above him. Maybe he could be a bird. Some Elves believed their souls lived on, even if their bodies did not. And after death, they came back as something else. An Elf again, or an animal. Legolas wouldn't mind being a bird. He would be free then. Free to fly high above the trees of Mirkwood and Middle-Earth. No worries, no problems, nothing could ever go wrong when you were a bird.
Yes, to be a bird would be nice…
He could feel his life slipping away like a shadow from his body. He gazed around him. The fight was over. Elves were walking round, looking for the fallen. Someone ran to him, and was speaking to him in Elvish, calling him back from the darkness. But he couldn't hear a word. Just the birds, only the birds…
Hands were pressing onto his side, stopping the blood flowing out even more. But he knew it was too late. They couldn't save him now. He was going to die, just like so many others.
But he did not fear death. He knew the pain was over now. He was being released. No more pain, no more sorrow. He was free.
"Always keep your eyes on your back Greenleaf. Your back is the most vulnerable part of your body. Don't let it down."
Legs it.
What else can I do apart form run away as fast as possible? And if you do kill me, i leave everything to...Scampy, Pickle, and Natalie! Scoots.
Faerlain.