My Immortal
Don't Speak
=======
Legolas looked up, preparing himself for the journey he would take to Mandos. His assailant was far too enraged to stop short of killing him. He could see that much reflecting back in those inhuman eyes. The orc's fist shook as he made ready to slam it into the Elf Prince's head, but just as he made ready to let it fall, the door to the prison banged open. Another one of the beasts appeared, his eyes looking at the prone Elf on the floor. Irritation fused with his expression. "Get off him!"
The one above Legolas growled furiously, but made no movements, one way or another. "It ain't your concern. Tell Goralûk the little thing was dead when you got here if you must, but I'm killing him!" His claws dug into the Prince of Mirkwood's shoulder.
The newcomer kicked his comrade in the side none too gently, hissing "Goralûk wants every available hand above. There's some Elf warriors causing trouble." It sneered down at Legolas, using his boot to brush dirt up on him. "These ones seem to know what they're doing, unlike some Elves." He frowned then at the orc still pinning Legolas down. "Now get up! Not as if he's gonna cause any trouble!"
Snarling, the orc glared down, then jerked himself up, grabbing the stray fallen weapons and retreating quickly without bothering to lock the door behind him. They did not see him as a threat, apparently, and as injured as he was, he hardly felt like one. Yet despite all that the spring of hope within him flowed once more. Elven warriors were fighting above. There was a real chance for he and Lady Celebrían to make it out of this alive. That alone drove the Elf to his feet. He scouted around for any abandon blades and saw none. But that didn't deter him. He was going to aid this effort as best as he could, even if it meant his life. At least now it would not be in vain.
That in mind, he exited the cell a little unsteadily at first, but with growing ease as he made it into the hallway and on towards a set of stairs. If the Valar were with him he held to the possibility of finding a weapon before entering the fray. He kept a watch on the shadows of the halls and his ears keenly listened for any sign of pursuit. Fate seemed on his side, keeping all threats away from him as he made his way towards the top of the den.
On up the stairs he could hear a mixture of steel and growls and shouting. Legolas paused at the top of the stairs and listened, trying to determine the direction from which the fight came. His ears directed him to his left, but momentarily he took the right, peering into the rooms near the stairwell. When he saw his bow thrown across a wooden table in what looked to be an unattended room, Legolas felt his spirits rise. He raced into the makeshift armory and skidded to a halt, seeing an unexpected form now that he had entered fully.
He sat at an unobtrusive little table tucked away in the corner, hidden within the shadows, his feet propped up and a grin just visible within the firelight. "Well, well," he breathed, throwing his feet down onto the floor and reaching for his sword.
In a split second decision, ignoring the dominant presense heading towards him, Legolas threw himself into the table where his bow was, took the weapon into his hand and jerked an arrow from his abandoned quiver. As he rolled to his back, he notched the arrow and by the time he was turned around he had it ready to fire. Unfortunately the orc had also been quick on his feet, knocking the bow from the Elf's hand with the broad sweep of his fist. The bow tumbled to the floor with a clatter.
Legolas wasted no upon ire, rolling in the opposite direction and landing a kick in the orc's chest as he came off the table. He landed on his hands and feet, and as he straightened he grabbed a nearby wooden chair, lifted it and hurled it at the recovering orc. The towering creature blocked and laughed at the attempt, then bolted after his prey. The Prince of Mirkwood scurried around the table and grabbed his bow, finding his arrow broken.
"You might need this, huh?" the monster hissed. When Legolas stood he saw his quiver in its hands. Smirking, the orc slammed it into the wall behind him. It fell without breaking, emptying the arrows out onto the floor. That the quiver was still whole troubled his enemy and seeking recompense, he jerked a dagger from a shelf beside him and flung it angrily.
Legolas ducked and missed being hit with ease. Clutching his sword again, the orc clambered after him, weapon raised and eyes alight with rage. The Elf Prince swept the room over with his gaze for a fraction of a second before making his choice. He saw a pile of orc arrows across the room. He could make it, he knew, but was less sure of if he could notch and draw before the monster had caught up.
Bypassing a standing shelf he ran towards his goal, listening as things crashed behind him. The orc snarled, relentlessly following after him, shoving tables and weapon cases out of its way. Legolas fought the urge to look over his shoulder, his mind on his task and only that. By the time he reached them he knew the orc was on his back. Snatching a few arrows off the table where they had been laid, Legolas ducked instinctively, narrowly missing the sword aimed at cleaving his had from his shoulders.
He darted back towards the other side of the room and the orc took advantage of his proximity, tangling its foot within the Elf's legs and effectively tripping him. He hit the floor on his stomach, the arrows pinching his palm, but did not give in. He reloaded the arrow and gave a silent prayer as he rolled onto his back again. As soon as he almost three quarters of the way risen he let go of the arrow just as the orc's boot hit his hand. It knocked the aim off just enough. The arrow sailed into its shoulder right near the throat, penetrating just above the leather cuirass it wore.
The orc howled in rage, gripping the shaft of the arrow and giving a tug and just as he pulled it free Legolas notched another arrow aimed this time for its head. It fell back with not much more than a hiss of contempt on its lips. Closing his eyes, Legolas sank back to the floor and breathed a sigh of relief.
Once he had caught his breath, he took his bow up and crossed to his quiver, gathering up the fallen arrows and repacking them. Slinging it over his shoulder was like coming home to him. He tightened the leather strap across his chest and exited the room, feeling very ready to spill more orc blood. He made haste past the stairs again and sought out where has assumed they would all be. The dining room.
Legolas entered, holding his bow and an arrow ready. His eyes closed in upon dark hair. The Elf ran through his enemy, kicked the orc off his blade and turned around to face the newcomer, stopping short with wide, blue eyes. "Legolas?" said the son of Elrond, cocking his head and looking puzzled. His momentary lapse cost him and an orc dove into him, flattening him to his chest on the floor. The Prince of Mirkwood grinned and marked his first target, shooting the beast on his friend. The arrow slammed into its head and the creature died, spilling blood past its lips.
Groaning, Elladan turned and shoved the body from him, then wiped the dark blood off his cheek. "You could have picked a better spot."
The Wood-Elf grunted, notching arrow after arrow, shooting down the orcs that had tormented he and Lady Celebrían. Elrohir, who was sword-fighting a nearby orc, chanced a few glances, then breathed, "You cheater."
Legolas gave him a smile, then shot the raven-headed Elf's enemy for him. Just as he reached over his shoulder for another arrow, Elladan yelled, "Legolas! Watch out!" Turning, he saw one of the creatures barreling towards him. He leapt out of the way none too soon, hitting the floor and rolling. Elrohir met the orc with his blade, trading blows before taking him down. He smirked at Legolas, then reached down to lend a helping hand. "Hannon le," Legolas breathed, looking around. He saw a silvery-haired Elf on the other side of the room finishing off the last of the beasts with Elladan's help. The Wood-Elf exhaled, glad that it was over. He felt very tired.
Thank you.
Looking him over, Elrohir shook his head. "Mellon nîn, you do not look well. What are you doing here?"
My friend.
He brushed his hair from his face and sighed, knowing he would have to speak of things these twins would not want to hear. "I trailed them here and was overtaken. Elrohir…" He shared a look with his friend, saw the recognition within the other's eyes that something serious was about to be said.
Footsteps closed upon their position. Elrohir looked up, knowing the mind of his brother. Sheathing his sword, the elder asked urgently, "Have you seen our mother?"
Legolas nodded, glancing towards the hall. "Down the stairs. She's on the floor. They were attacking us when another orc came…"
With a nod, cutting him off, Elladan raced out of the room. Elrohir gave his shoulder a pat in thanks, then followed after him quickly. The Prince of Mirkwood understood and looked for a place to rest. As he sank down at one of the tables the remaining Elf came with him. He looked to be one of the Galadhrim,, if he judged the clothing and bearing right. The silvery-haired, older looking Elf put his hand to his chest and bowed his head. "I am Rumil of Lórien, a fellow hunter of the Lady of Rivendell. Does she still live?"
The Mirkwood Prince nodded, looking again towards the hall. He winced, hearing one of the twins give a shout of fury. "She lives, though barely. They tormented us. I am Legolas of Mirkwood."
Rumil watched the archway with calm, grave eyes. Nodding, he said, "Mae govannen, Legolas Thranduilion. You look worse for wear. I offer you my horse for the trip to Rivendell, if that is where you will go."
Well met, Legolas son of Thranduil.
"Where are you bound?" the prince asked, absently rubbing near his injured shoulder. In truth he had not considered going to Rivendell, but he supposed Lord Elrond would want to speak with him about this. As a friend of his sons and in honor of the respect for the Lord of Rivendell Legolas had, he felt he owed it to Elrond to speak this tale personally.
The Marchwarden stood up as the twins returned, both looking pale and grieved. The eldest bore his mother in his arms, holding her tight to his chest as if to let her go would see her leaving this world for Mandos. Seeing Celebrían's waning state Legolas did not count that too far fetched a thought. He arose with Rumil, waiting for one the others to speak, for he did not have it in him to say anything. "I am returning to seek my brother," Rumil stated, looking down with sad eyes at Lady Celebrían. "Unless of course you have need."
"We will make it." It was barely a whisper. Elrohir looked up at the Lórien Elf, unable to muster anything past a nod. "Hannon le."
Rumil bowed his head to them, then turned to Legolas. "My horse is across the road leading into the pass. His name is Gaelvaethor. When you approach, tell him you come in the name of my Lord and Lady and he will bear you wherever it is you need to go. Set him free when you reach Rivendell and he will return home." He looked at the three of them one last time, searching for need, then whispered, "Namarie," as he left with his parting gaze on Celebrían.
As they watched him go, Legolas looked at his friends, his heart burdened. "I wish…"
"No," Elladan breathed, his voice strained. "Come if you will, but do not speak to me now." Without another word, holding his mother close, the elder twin stalked out of the orc den on quick feet.
Elrohir exhaled and motioned after him. "We should go. Come to Rivendell, Legolas. Let my father treat you. Are you well enough to ride?"
Rattled, the Prince of Mirkwood only nodded, also looking after his departed friend. His demeanor had stung, igniting within Legolas the guilt of having not saved her from this fate. "I am sorry."
"It is not your fault," his friend said honestly, giving his arm a squeeze. "Elladan refused to accept anything may have happened. He is angry with himself. Come."
Elrohir urged him on and together they left the orc den and stepped into the fresh air. It lifted some of the weight off his shoulders, but not all of it.
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 – Hannon le. – Thank you.
2 – Mellon nin. – My friend.
3 – Mae govannen, Legolas Thranduilion. – Well met, Legolas son of Thranduil.
A/N: Thank you all again for reviewing! sniffles and hands out chocolate MaryS - I'm considering updating my LOTR/Mummy crossover...it's daunting, but I have a few interested people. Thanks for the reviews!!!