My Immortal
Opening Floodgates
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"Law!" When the golden-haired boy screamed and burst from the bushes five startled goblins turned, fixing dangerous, amused gazes on their faces. He was too young to conceive of just how perilous his abandoning his hiding spot made his situation. All he knew was anger and pain. The form on the grass was at the forefront of his thoughts. "Nuitho, delu levain!"
No! Stop, fell beasts!
From the center of the circle of creatures a white hand raised as if to reach out to him. He took a step to go to her, but knew better when one of the hungry monsters growled at him. "Noro!" she cried, unable to get her voice above a whisper, her throat hoarse from her screaming. "Noro si!"
Run! Run now!
One of the goblins laughed from deep within its chest, a terrible sound that made the boy shiver. "Looks like we got more than we bargained for. Get him, boys!"
The young Elf-child's luminous dark eyes filled with tears. He knew to stay would mean something terrible, but he did not want to leave her here. The little prince just didn't know what to do until the much larger forms began after him. "Noro!" she managed to yell at him, her hand falling to the ground limply afterwards.
In agony he took off in the opposite direction, shoving branches out of his way, stumbling over rocks and fallen tree branches. He ran heedlessly, not knowing where to go or who to call out to. They wandered too far from their home and the beasts were running so very fast. He could hear their feet pounding into the earth and their growls chasing after him relentlessly behind. It filled him with fear.
"Run, little brat!" one of the creatures howled at him, gaining on him quickly. Twigs broke in the grass of his wake. Though the little Elf did not speak Westron very well, he knew he was being teased.
He fell. In his haste he did not afford himself the time to seek solid footing, so his sharp eyes missed a large stick that had been covered over with mud. It snagged his foot and he collapsed with a hard thud that sent a painful jolt up his little body. But he did not stop to cry. Clawing at the dirt beneath him, he pulled himself up and sprinted on, headlong into one of the goblins that had taken his fall as a chance to get ahead. He hit the creature's front and fell back into the hands of another, who jerked him by his tunic. "Valiant little fighter," it grunted, pulling out a dagger.
Looking up as the one before him took out his own blade, the boy waited in silence, too afraid to cry. He pulled away once and was hit viciously for it. His face turned with the force of the slap and that did bring moisture to his eyes. When he looked back the creature laughed at him and made ready to plunge the dagger down.
A hiss filled the air; followed by a distinctive 'thwack' and the goblin that would have been his ending fell down with wide eyes. Before it hit the ground another arrow flew into the face of the one clutching his shirt. He fell back with it, then growling out, yanked himself away and ran again. This time he ran into the arms of his father and that drew the most tears of all.
Kneeling and surrounding the child with his arms, King Thranduil whispered, "Sîdh, Legolas. Na naneth lín nedh taur?"
Peace, Legolas. Is your mother in the forest?
Clinging to his father as the horrible sounds of her screams washed over him again, Legolas nodded softly and looked over his arm at the tree, trying to blot out what he had seen. The forest seemed so quiet now. "Fuion ti, Adar. Fuion ti."
I hate them, Father. I hate them.
His father said nothing, but those arms around the little prince tightened when footsteps approached and a soft voice said, "Your Majesty, I bear terrible news. The Queen, Sir, has been slain. Nothing can be done."
"Naneth!" His chest felt heavy, smothering him nearly as he awakened with a start back into the here and now. When Legolas opened his eyes they were greeted by the soft glow of a torch bleeding in from beyond the cell door. It was enough to cast faint illumination upon the golden hair of the woman above him and for a blessed moment he felt reality crumble into an irrational hope.
Her voice dashed it and brought him back. "You were dreaming, Legolas. Are you all right?"
His dark eyes moistened uncontrollably, though he knit his brow and tried to withhold any further display. "I am well." Unstoppably his voice was strained. It was not exactly true, his reply. His body felt ravaged, his emotions taken from the secret spot deep within that he had not visited in many years. For so long he had banished that memory and now here it was, replayed before his mind's eye in vivid detail.
A ripping sound pulled him away from his thoughts. Lady Celebrían looked down through soft, weary eyes at the strip of fabric she had just torn from her skirt. Legolas shook his head, sitting up with her help. Upon rising he noticed how tired she looked, how pale. Her dress was ripped down the center, as if someone had gripped at the neck and pulled it apart. His mind shuddered back from the implications of what could have occurred to cause that. He reached for the cloth, not wanting to be a burden to the Lady of Imladris. "I can…"
"No!" Her voice was hard, desperate as she ignored his reaching hand and wrapped the strip around his wounded shoulder to stop the bleeding. He groaned at the sting, closing his eyes and setting his jaw. When she spoke again her tone had somewhat lessened. He recognized this. She was afraid, hopeless, looking for something to take her away from what inevitably whatever had occurred while he had been unconscious. "What were you dreaming of?"
Legolas averted his eyes from hers, feeling the familiar barrier between the words and his mouth. Maybe it was her need or maybe it was his, but without knowing why, he broke through it this time and admitted what was on his heart. "My mother."
Celebrían tied the cloth off and looked him over, pressing gently, asking where he hurt. It had been so long since he had felt anything like this; he did not know how to react to such a tender touch. It opened up a well of longing in him that had been sealed off ever since his mother had been ripped from him. He could almost recall, listening to the Lady's voice. "I know she is gone, but I never heard what befell her."
Her hand met his bare arm and he looked down, noticing the little cuts, slash marks from a blade, running along her fingers. Her form shivered and her blue eyes were shaded. Gently he removed her touch from his flesh and breathed, "Lady, it is I that should be caring for you." Lady Celebrían shook her head, moving her wrist out of his grasp. Sighing, he leaned back on his hands, his back aching and stinging from the beating he had endured. The silence was uncomfortable, neither of them bearing any words of comfort, so he continued from her last statement. "My father doesn't speak of it. She was taken from us when I was very small and killed by the servants of the Dark Lord."
Perhaps it wasn't wise of him to bring it up. Too closely it reflected what might happen to her children. He saw that much in her gaze. "Such evil in this world. Indeed I am sorry to know this." Her sorrowed face filled him with grief, for it reflected back to him all that held deep inside. "Do you recall her?" she asked softly.
Legolas sighed and shook his head. "Alas, no. Such a short time she was with me, Lady. I only remember her face…" screams filled his mind, prompting him to add in a lower tone, "and her voice."
"You are all right, though?" Celebrían said after a moment's consideration. Her blue eyes seemed to beg him to lie if he had to and he turned his gaze downward. "You miss her, but you have done well?"
On the surface her question was for him, but he knew deep within she was asking whether or not he thought her children would endure her death, for she had accepted it, there was no mistaking that. He didn't know what else he could say except, "I have done well." He looked up from the stone floor, taking in her sallow visage again. "I miss her, but I endure."
The Lady of Rivendell gave him a pale look of sympathy, and then lowered herself to the hard floor. So exhausted she must be, he reflected sadly. In an attempt to comfort her he asked gently, "My Lady, are you all right? Is there anything I can do?"
Her eyes were half-lidded, glassy as she replied in a low tone, "Penneth, there is nothing you can do now." She held up her arm and he saw she had an enflamed red cut marring her milky flesh. "I have been poisoned." The skin around the wound was a very angry red and swelling despite the rapid healing Elves were gifted with. In her eyes he saw the acceptance of that wound, too. The acceptance of what it would ultimately lead to. It made a swell of rage rise up within him, but for her sake he remained silent.
Young one.
"I am sorry," was all he knew to say.
Lady Celebrían offered him a soft smile in thanks and closed her eyes. His gaze moved to the door as two orcs conversed in the black speech, snarling with cruel amusement. In his mind he entertained dark, sad thoughts of her sons, his friends. He could not allow her to die, not if he could do anything imaginable to stop it.
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Author: Ruse – jedinineofninehotmail.com
Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings isn't mine and nor is Elrond, unfortunately, nor Legolas or Aragorn. No infringement intended.
Sindar:
1 – Law! – No!
2 – Nuitho, delu levain! – Stop, fell beasts!
3 – Noro! Noro si! – Run! Run now!
4 - Sîdh, Legolas. Na naneth lín nedh taur? – Peace, Legolas. Is your mother in the forest?
5 - Fuion ti, Adar. Fuion ti. – I hate them, Father. I hate them.
6 – Penneth. – Young one.
A/N: Thank you all again for the reviews! I hope you continue to enjoy this!
Uineniel - well, the mail thing was to test and see if it got more responses. I have a friend that emails past reviewers and gets 500 reviews for her stories, so I wanted to see if I could manage the same. As it is, I cannot. lasigh But then, she has time to go read every single story on fanfiction.net and review it, where I do not...so perhaps I'm only reaping what I'm able to sow, so to speak. ;) Ff.net is so huge that stories get lost in the tumble...I'm very uncertain about my own so called talents and yes, we should be writing for our own pleasure first, but you know...when you see someone else get review after review and you don't, you wonder if you just plain suck. ;)
But thankfully I have all my lovely friends here that have reviewed, saying I don't...and I've noticed that 500 review stories are not in the majority, so I'm doing about average I guess. So I apologise for ruffled feathers as far as emails go, I've probably screwed myself out of reviews that way, people seeing my name and cursing it, but I'm glad you stopped by and I thank you for being kind enough to leave such nice reviews as well! Lol...and yeah, I'm not that hopeless. ;) When I stray from canon so obviously in my AU's, I try to have plausible reasons.