THE SPACE BETWEEN

Author's note : Still too long to update I know. At least it was much faster, this time. I hope the next chapter will come soon. Obviously we're coming to a close with this story so there isn't that much left.

No reviews to reply to this time. Oh well, I guess the interest is gone (which is no surprise I guess) or the last chapter wasn't good. Oh well, at least I'm not writing this for reviews. I'll finish it anyways.

Chapter Nineteen

Edro Chin hin Open your Eyes

Legolas closed his eyes, mentally preparing himself for the inevitable. In a brief flash, he could see in his mind's eye, all the significant and happy moments of his entire life passing by him like a lighting strike yet at that moment time stretched on endlessly forever ignoring the now. He felt more than heard Willow lift her jewelled dagger and swish it down.

An incredible peace came over the Elf as he awaited his final breath and his final moment to come to an end. It was not so bad, he thought as he felt a slight tug which most likely meant the shiny blade connected with him and the cold mental sunk into his chest. Oddly enough he felt no pain as he could nearly imagine the life seeping out of him. It was beautiful. Sleep, oh! how he wanted to sleep.

There was an odd prickling sensation starting in his hands, he assumed it was his precious life force trickling out as he was losing much blood and his heart slowly began to shut down. Then the oddest thing happened. Something soft brushed against his skin and he smelt the familiar scent of rosehip and lavender as a soothing gentle voice whispered in his hear.

"Edro chin hin."

It called sweetly to him in a voice he certainly did not expect to hear. The sweet voice came again, more insistent this time.

"Caro celeg ù-ennas lû! Legolas, edro chin hin!" Hurry, there is no time! Legolas, open your eyes!

The Elf obeyed and instantly opened his eyes. He looked to his chest, searching with his hands for the dagger he was certain was protruding from his it. His heart skipped a beat when he saw there was no dagger in his chest, then his mind caught up with the events surrounding him. His hands were no longer bound!

Suddenly the door burst open with a overstrung lieutenant rushing in, his face showing great distress. "The Ringbearer is missing!" he exclaimed. The Dark Lord turned around swiftly, his face registering rage towards this ill news.

Instantly, Legolas'gaze sought for Willow just in time to see her throw the blade towards the Dark Lord.

"Tolo!" Come! she shouted urgently as she pulled a bewildered Legolas out of the chamber. "We must go!"

As they ran, they could still hear the lieutenant shouting to see if Sauron was gravely injured. Willow led the prince through a complex maze of ever stretching barely illuminated corridors and doors.

"In here," she whispered, dragging Legolas through a cleverly concealed door. In here, Legolas found his bow, quiver and daggers.

"Put these on," Willow ordered as she quickly threw a shirt and tunic at the Elf. "Sauron was only delayed not harmed. It will not be long until he begins searching for us."

Legolas'head was spinning, too much had happened in too short a time. "Willow, please. What is going on?" He set the cloths aside.

Willow stopped moving around nervously and stared at the Prince. "I released the Ringbearer,"she said matter-of-factly.

"What has happened?"

"Two days ago. I did not know. I could not control my actions, until the last possible moment. I must have realized it was wrong for Frodo to be here, thus I freed him. Oh! I am so sorry, meleth! I nearly killed you without giving it a second thought! I cannot imagine the outcome had I not broken free and remember my past life and the horrible crime I was about to commit." There was an unmistakable hint of sorrow and regret in her voice.

Legolas'heart went out to her, though now was not the best time to discuss such delicate occurrences. Still he would take a few moments to sooth his beloved. "Meleth, it is alright. We are both here now."

"Yes, yes we are. Though we must move on we cannot linger here any longer. Frodo should reach Mount Doom within the hour I should hope if all goes well. Sauron will be looking for us, and he shall not be indulgent."

"Then let us go," Legolas declared as he completed fastening the catches of his tunic.

---

For the entire voyage toward the stairwell leading to the outside world, Legolas and Willow did not meet a single living soul. The halls were eerily quiet, too quiet.

"Where is everyone?" Legolas asked quietly.

"All of Mordor has been emptied," Willow was just as compelled as Legolas to keep the silence. "All the Dark Lord's armies are amassed at the Black Gate."

"Why?"

"Isildur's Heir," replied Willow.

"Estel?"

"Yes, he is challenging Sauron."

A small smile crept up on the Prince's face. How he wished he could have seen that. He would have loved to bear witness to that small morsel of a human he knew stand up to Middle-earth's greatest threat. It would have been grand. They resumed their course in silence until they reached the stairwell.

"It has been sealed off." Laiella was rather surprised by this, though she should have know this passage would have been blocked in case of a mutiny or attempt to escape. Sauron never trusted anyone, not even his most trusted advisors and lieutenants.

"Is there not another way?" Legolas asked, his voice depicting his weariness.

"Always. Though we must climb in order to go down."

"So be it," the prince accepted this, he really did not have much choice.

"Come! We must hurry!" Willow scurried off in another direction. Despite still feeling the effects of his love's torment and the Orcs unkind ministrations, Legolas was able to keep up with his beloved's quickened pace.

They found the long twirling staircase much quicker than Legolas had imagined it. Somehow he feared they would remained trapped in this cursed tower forever. He underestimated Willow's time in the dark tower for she had been here long enough to learn the swiftest way out. At least, this she had discovered before the dark shadow had clouded her mind. Both elves felt immense relief upon arriving at the staircase. Legolas stepped forward, about to grasp the rail when his relief was cut remarkably short when his gaze met that of a seething Makowyl, still burning with hatred for the prince.

"As I told you earlier, little prince, we would meet again," he spoke unnaturally calmly as he descended the stairs to arrive about mid way in the stairwell. Unsheathing his sharp long blade, he smirked darkly as he admired the look of bewilderment on both young elves.

Legolas did not back away, but stood firmly on his ground, keeping Willow safely behind him.

"Laiella, leave!" he ordered in the same complacent tone used by Makowyl. "I have unfinished concern to which I must attend."

"No! I shall not leave you! Come we must go! You cannot waste time on idle struggles." Willow pulled on his sleeve, desperate not to leave him in the dark elf's clutches alone. She nearly lost him again, she would not do so another time.

"No, Laiella. Let me do this. I must!"

"Yes, Aryon, leave or I shall kill him now!" Makowyl enticed.

"Go, I shall find you! Wait for me at the Bridge. I shall be there, I promise!"

Willow conceded, realising she had no choice and this fight was an important one for the Prince, it had been lasting long enough. It was time to put an end to it once and for all. "Very well." With one last glance toward Legolas, she left.

"Now, let us finish what we began so many centuries ago. Long have I awaited this moment," Legolas said as he removed his own blade from its sheath. He still possessed the sword that was given to him in Rohan. He had kept it, know it would serve him in the near future.

Upon seeing the blade, Makowyl scoffed. "You dare to insult me by attacking me with a petty mortal blade? Have you no shame Thranduilion?"

Legolas did not waste any time with idle replies to Makowyl's snide comments. He charged for the Elf, his mortal sword raised high. With ease, Makowyl deferred the blow and retaliated with a sharp parry from underneath. Legolas deflected the attack with the expertise of an excellent Mirkwood swordsman.

As the two elves battled to the death, Willow ran off to find a different way out of Barad-dûr. She entered a small room, the only room with a window large enough for anyone to slip out. Attempting to open the window was a far more arduous task than Willow had expected. It was then the Elf realised the it was locked. Renewing her strength, Willow pulled against the old rusty lock until at last it slowly gave way. The Elf winced as the screeching sound of rusty metal rubbing against rusty metal would certainly alert any unfriendly ears to her whereabouts.

Climbing out the window, Laiella found herself looking down the tower, dangling from the edges. There was just a slight ledge for the Elf to perch herself upon. It was a blessing that Elves possessed a strong sense of balance and were not easily swayed from one side to another. Slowly and carefully, Willow descended from one ledge to the lower one, never letting her intense grip loosen and keeping her eyes closed. Chancing a glance down, Willow sighed in exasperation, nearly letting go of her firm grip on the ledge. There were many levels to go down in order to reach the main entrance.

---

The Mouth of Sauron beared its frightfully rotten teeth in a mirthless cruel smirk. No one went against the Dark One's word, no one. Not even Gandalf, this old greybeard who attempted to speak to him using high words. He laughed in amusement as he saw the look of dismay on the faces of those before him as he showed the tokens and named the terms laid down by his Lord.

"Even now your imp friend suffers greatly at the hands of his holders. None is more cruel than the Lord's Heir, Aryon. Revelled in his pain, did she, and caused much she did as well. At least until the elven whelp arrived."

With these words, he laughed again as he saw the look of dismay and grief in the present elves' eyes and that dratted human stain said to be Isildur's Heir. "Oh yes, he also was dear to thee. Just like the Shire ratling, they shall suffer together for as long as can be. The orcs crave the Elf's blood."

Yet, to his great dismay, Old Grey-beard refused his Lord's terms. Fuming in baffled anger, he twirled around and returned henceforth to his dark land. Then poured forth hoards of hideous orcs, ready to battle against the last stand before the Black Gates. Much was held in the balance. If it was as the Mouth said, and Frodo truly was lost to the Shadow along with Legolas and Laiella, then all was lost and the Men of the West would battle in vain one last time.

---

With only two more levels to go, Laiella braced herself for the steep descent that awaited her. The Tower of Barad-dûr was not designed with aesthetics in mind, nor was it built to ease the passage of those who attempted a usually ill-fated escape. Crude and sharp edged it was with unprotected parapets made of barely chiselled rock. It was built as though large unshaped pieces of stone were fused together, creating a rather uneven trenchant wall. The parapet was also uneven and if one was not careful enough, he would find himself over the edge fall and land on the razor-sharp edged rocks that were the base of Barad-dûr. Standing on the parapet, Willow allowed herself barely a few moments to recollect herself before continuing her journey downwards. Oddly enough, this parapet bode an ill-favoured sentiment as though there was some great evil not afar lurking in the Shadows. However, that could be said for the entire land of Mordor. Yet, to Willow, at this exact moment, this very place was tainted with evil far greater than anywhere in the Dark Land. The rock itself screamed of fear and shadow drawing near, begging anyone in their midst to get away as quickly as possible. Something was terribly amiss.

She sensed it mere moments before it happened. An armoured hand connected with the back of her neck, sharpened spikes penetrated into the soft flesh, drawing droplets of blood. The force of the blow slammed her head in the wall. Before she could recover, another hit came, reacquainting her with the wall this time face first. Then cold spiked metal covered fingers wrapped themselves around her slender throat and pressed incessantly.

"You though you so easily deceive me? That you could escape with your little princeling without confronting me?"

Willow was unable to reply, Sauron had not relinquished her throat and still slammed her face in the wall, causing blood to flow freely from her chin and nose. The Dark One lifted the Elf and flung her on the ground, missing the edge only by inches. Finally having her airway released, Willow gasped and choked as air once against filled her starved lungs.

"If you chose to defy me so, then you choose to be destroyed. I offered you power and glory and strength and a life that only I could supply and yet you still defy me!" Sauron nearly shouted in anger, his hands raised. Upon seeing the Abominable One with his raised hands, Laiella began to fell a horrible pain unlike any she had ever felt before. Sharp and piercing pain traversed her, it as though her body was being torn apart and put back together to yet be hacked to pieces again, only worse. The agony was blinding and so nauseating, Willow could not scream, despite her attempts. Her throat was constricted and air could not get to her lungs.

The Elf knew she could not hold on much longer. She could feel the life force being sapped away as darkness and pain spread like fog on a cold winter morning. Abruptly, Sauron stopped all motion, and the pain was slowly lifted from Willow's perception. The Dark Lord looked towards Orodruin, Mount Doom itself.. The She-Elf looked up toward Sauron and for a few moments she was overcome with great confusion. Then, she understood, for all was revealed to her in that moment, everything was clear.

"The Ring has been claimed," she stated as she followed the Dark One's gaze set it on the entrance of Orodruin.

"Yes, it appears the Halfling did possess the Ring," he said angrily. "It shall be reclaimed." As he spoke both and the Elf could feel as much as hear the Nazgûl's shrieking. "Go! My faithful servants, the ones who shall not betray me," he said this while staring darkly in Willow's eyes. "Fetch me my Ring! End this trickery!"

The Nazgûl were barely into view when suddenly, the earth around them began to tremble and the structural integrity of Barad-dûr was compromised. It was clear the Ring was gone as was the strength and power of Mordor. The fires of Mount Doom became agitated and the mountain spat angrily, actively protesting its inevitable demise.

Then, a pain ever sharper and more horrible than Willow ever felt invaded her yet again. It was long and brutal and this time she could voice her agony. Long and hard she bellowed the affliction bestowed upon her by the destruction of the One. Her anguished cries were mingled with those of Sauron who hands were kept over his ears in a vain attempt to make the pain disappear.

It lasted for a few minutes, though it felt more like a dozen ages passed between the commencement and the final moment where at long last the Great and evil Ring of Power, the One that would help the Dark Lord enslave the world was finally destroyed. Both Elf and Dark Lord were overwhelmed by the series of afflictions they suffered through and both needed a few moments to recollect themselves. Willow could not move, all her limbs were cemented in the ground. Wearily she turned her head to see Sauron was in a similar predicament, though it was not long before his hatred and anger flared again. He stood up, flames of ire in his eyes and he bore down on the still elf alternating between strangling and hitting the helpless one. He used whatever strength he had left to assault the Elf in any way he could, whether it be violently or mentally. He was going down, but he would destroy as much of this Elf if he could help it.

If Willow had possessed her full strength, she would have easily repelled Sauron's brutal assault. Finally Sauron settled for strangling the Elf, who still could not move. Willow frantically searched for a way to life her arm, but it still felt embedded in stone. And so, with difficulty she worked at it piece by piece, starting with moving her fingers, ever so slowly until at last her arm painfully and reluctantly lifted. As she raised her arm, Willow garnered enough strength to fling her arm towards the equally weakened Sauron. So intent he was on destroying the Elf, he did see it coming when a weak arm slammed into his head and he rolled off to the side. Being so powerless from the Ring's end, Sauron could not maintain his balance.

And so with a great cry of distress, Sauron the Deceiver, Annatar, the One who brought fear and despair to the hearts of those who fought so bravely and valiantly against him, fell off the precipice of the Tower of Barad-dûr and was forever gone from this world.

It was over... after all this time, it was finally done with.

The small movement, Willow needed to be ride of the Dark Lord had taken much of her strength, too much. For a long moment, she simply lay there, listening to the sound of her breathing and waited to regain full control of her limbs before she could set out and find Legolas once more.

As she listening in the deep, a new sound caught her ear. Below her, she was most certain of it, not far, Willow picked up the distinct tinkering sound of metal against metal, sword against sword. Reality slammed into the Elf's chest, and winded her, almost like when the Ring was destroyed. Legolas! He was near, she knew it, she could feel it! Yet even now, knowing that time was of the essence, she could not press her body into moving barely more than a few subtle movements. And so she waited, waited for control to return and when it came enough for her to turn on her stomach and crawl down the next two levels to reach her beloved, she did so.

It was over...

---

Or nearly so...

The battle between Legolas and Makowyl was still going strong, not even the Ring's demise and the subsequent ever present downfall of Mordor slowed it down. No longer were they near the stairs, where they deadly sparring had begun, but having gained the upper hand in the first act of their battle, Makowyl had driven his opponent hard, pushing him downward and further away from Laiella.

Now the two battled on a parapet similar to where Sauron and Laiella fought. Long and hard they fought, Legolas' strength waning fast. Yet he still found enough stamina to gain the upper hand and head his enemy to the edge of the precipice. With a series of swift clever movements, Legolas disarmed the dark elf.

Makowyl balanced himself on the edge, his eyes pointedly fixed on the sharp tip of Legolas' sword.

"Well," he leered, "it appears your feeble mortal blade has defeated me. You won, little Prince. You must be so proud. Will you not complete your precious victory and take the life of an Eldar?"

"You are no Eldar, Makowyl. You may still be an Elf in body, but you gave away for fëa long ago to the darkness. You are no Elf; your soul is that of an Orc."

The dark Elf sneered at the Prince, he could have shred him to bits with his eyes, if that power was given to him. But just as Legolas began to speak again, something out of the corner of Makowyl's eye caught his interest. Perhaps not all was over after all.

"There is nothing left for you, Makowyl, it is over. This is the last of it. There is nothing left."

"Oh no, not nothing, my spoiled little Prince. There is still one thing left for me to do."

Legolas wavered for the slightest instant, confused and uncertain of Makowyl's meaning. The dark Elf laughed, but it was a nervous laugh, like that of a trapped animal with only one last resort that he kept hidden from his adversary.

"Oh yes. I shall strike you, and it shall be where it will hurt you the most!" Before Legolas could reflect on those words, Makowyl flung a dagger he swiftly pulled out of his boot, but he did not aim for Legolas.

The Prince felt more than heard the soft moan which escaped Laiella's lips and the dagger was deeply embedded in her side. Legolas' blood froze in his veins as he saw the look of utter shock and sheer terror in his beloved's face as the pain in her side registered. He shrieked in anguish, louder than he ever had as he turned to deliver the killing blow to Makowyl who laughed in triumph. However, before Legolas could kill one of his own, Makowyl, the dark Lieutenant of Sauron fell victim to his own smugness as he stumbled on the ledge of the tower. A tremor in the structure, due to the downfall of Mordor, finalized the elf's demise and hurled him off the edge. It was not long before his haughty laughter was turned to desperate screams.

Instantly Legolas rushed to Willow, catching her mere moments before she thudded on the hard ground. She felt cold to the touch, despite the horrible heat, courtesy of Mount Doom's eruption.

"Willow, meleth, can you hear me," Legolas queried softly. Laiella's eyes slowly focussed on the Elf; she nodded barely imperceptibly. "I am so sorry Laiella. This should not have happened." As quickly as possible, Legolas assessed the wound's seriousness. It was bad, but not the worse the Elf had ever seen.

"I cannot carry you with the dagger. I must remove it, it will more harmful for you to leave it. I am so sorry, meleth nin, pulling it out will hurt you."

Laiella closed her eyes and nodded again. Legolas understood, holding her hand in his, he pulled the curved dagger with his free hand. Laiella whimpered as he pulled. She squeezed his hand with what little strength she possessed, but otherwise, she did not let her anguish show unless it were the glaze that settled over her eyes. Tears burned Legolas' eyes lashes saw his beloved in such pain, tears now leaking from her own eyes as well.

Quickly, Legolas tore some material off his tunic to staunch the bleeding, but it proved fruitless since the gaping hole was large indeed. Thinking swiftly, Legolas tore off more fabric from Laiella's dress and used her heavy cloak. For now it would do, but it was presently imminent they left, since it would soon be impossible to escape from the downfall of Mordor, which swept away anything in its path. Legolas only prayed Frodo and Sam would be able to make it out alive. He murmured the same prayer for Willow and himself.

Putting his arm under her shoulders and the other under her knees, Legolas was about to lift Willow, but she stopped him. Touching his face with her bloody hand, she moved her lips and soft barely audible words passed through. "I am so sorry, meleth nin. I tried to stop, but I could not. Please forgive me."

"Sh, sh, Willow, do not speak. I know."

Willow shook her head, she was not done. "I...," she tried to whisper so quietly, "I never stopped loving you." Her hand fell limp and her head lolled to one side.

"Willow? Laiella?" Legolas called, his voice wavering with despair. "No, please do not leave me! Do not give up!" Feeling the panic rising, the Elf searched for any sign of life. He cried out in relief as he saw Laiella still breathed. She had simply lost consciousness.

"Please, meleth, do not let go. You must believe me, we shall make it out." Gathering up all the strength he possessed, Legolas lifted the Elf off the ground. Despite her emaciated appearance, she felt heavier then anything he had ever lifted. It was like holding Estel in his arms, Estel along with then entire Dunedain clan.

He did not realise it, but it was not Laiella who was suddenly heavier. It was him, his strength had waned considerably since his initial entrance in the Black Land. The dreadful land of Mordor stole away all strength of those who had the misfortune of entering. The weight of the air and the sheer evil that tainted the land was so powerful, it rendered all those whose heart was pure to their weakest state possible until they had no strength left in them to even breath. Dying in the lands of Undûn was a slow painful process. Since the Eldar were made of light, they lived in both the seen and the unseen, the terrible effect of the Black Land was far worse for them than any other creature walking the shores of Ennor. It waned not only their strength, but also their fëa, the life force that bound body and soul. Once the fëa damaged, the mending was a much slower and direful process, if it could be healed at all. It was without this knowledge, Legolas used all of his strength to put one foot in front of the other. If Legolas either ignored the knowledge or he was not aware of it, none could know, since the Elf concentrated solely on taking one small heavy step after another.

"Let us make it out of this tower, Willow. Then let us hope we can make it out of Mordor alive."

---

"Are you certain you have not seen them?"

"Yes Gandalf my friend. Thrice did we circle the dark land and thrice our search has been in vain."

"You are sure?" Aragorn asked insistently.

"Yes young King. I am sorry. Landroval also has nothing to report. There is no sign of the Prince nor the lady Elf."

"Thank you Gwaihir. I shall come with you to Cormallen, we have very weary hobbits that need tending."

Aragorn watched the exchange, but did not accept this defeat. "What of Legolas, Gandalf?" the very-soon-to-be-King shouted. "Are we to leave him to fend for himself in what is left of Mordor. We cannot leave him behind."

"Aragorn, Estel, come," Elladan attempted to appease his brother but it was no use, the human would have none of it.

"No, I shall not leave him behind. Do what you will, I am going after him." Aragorn resolved himself as he unsheathed Andúril and began to march back towards the Black Gate.

"Estel, Estel. This is madness!" Elrohir began. "You cannot walk into Mordor alone!"

"Then come with me," Aragorn challenged.

"Come with you?" Elrohir pondered the thought for a few moments. He exchanged glances with his twin and nodded to one another. Aragorn did not need to inquire as to their answer. He knew his brothers well enough.

"Then let us go," he said simply as he walked in the Black Gate's direction.

The man was stopped by a shadow that appeared to have dropped out of nowhere. Momentarily stunned, Aragorn did nothing but stare at the cloaked figure. "I shall accompany you. You shall need all the help you can have," he said.

Aragorn smiled. "Thank you Haldir." The foursome marched toward the Dark Land in the hopes to find their friends.

---

The Tower crumbled mere moments after the Elves were free from its dark grasp. Roughly a mile away, they were nonetheless not shielded from the shower of dust and debris which rained on them, forcing the Elf to the ground. He lay there, atop his beloved for a while, until at least he could see the paths before him. Then he once again resumed the arduous task of walking out of Mordor. He trudged along, dragging himself and Laiella. All throughout the journey, his breath was ragged and his knees quaked until at lat after another mile his body could stand no more and the Elf could no longer pull his weight. His knees buckled and Legolas collapsed, with Willow still clutched in his arms.

At this point his raspy breathing sapped all of his leftover strength, preventing him from continuing. He could not go on any longer. He was spent beyond all possible measure. Legolas lay kneeling on the ground, barely two miles away from freedom. The Black Gate loomed above them, but the Elf was too far gone, too lost in his weariness. He could not go on.

"I am..." he attempted to formulate words, between rattling dust out of his lungs. "I am, sorry, Will.. I can.. I cannot... go ... on... I am so sor..." Legolas did not finish his last word for at last his body gave way over his will. He was utterly spent, all of his strength was concentrated on keeping his lungs functioning. He toppled over his knees, shielding Willow. Even in his greatest moment of weakness, the Elf still found enough determination to protect the one he loved.

Alas, as he slumped over, he completely missed the sight of the four shadows emerging from the darkness.

---

Aragorn had to cover his mouth as he entered the desolate land of Mordor. There, the air, being so thick with evil constricted his throat. It was difficult for the Dúnedain to see, given the dark landscape was now turning itself in a large expanse of dust, debris and fire. The weight of the heat pulled at them, dragging them down in order to share in the fate of the Shadow. Their feet were restrained with invisible weights three thousand times their own. Despite the recent demise of the Dark Lord, his laire was nearly just as horrific as Aragorn remembered. The darkness and shadow had only begun to lift, yet there was still so much left to do.

"Are there any signs of them?" the man asked the Elves whose eyesight was far superior to his even wih the obstructions to their vision by the deserted land's destruction.

"No, not yet," Elrohir said as they were now fully entered in Mordor. "Do not worry, Estel, we will find them. I promise you, we will."

The foursome advanced slowly, carfully skimming the vicinities for any possible sign of Legolas. The four had spread out to enlarge their search radius. It was Elladan, the first who noticed an unusual lump on what appeared to once have been a road coming straight from Barad-dûr.

"Look!" he shouted excitedly, his voice filled with hope. "Over there! Can you see I swear that is Legolas' quiver."

"Where? Where?" Aragorn blurted as he shoved his way past his eldest brother.

"Dead ahead."

With more hope in their hearts than they had during the entire time they went without their beloved friend, the foursome then sprinted as fast as they could towards Legolas' alleged location.

As always if anyone reads this and sees any potential errors, please let me know! Even if you don't find any, let me know what you think! I'd love to hear from you! Thanks