8/7/05 Update: Okay, nothing's changed except for there are now two chapters – as my first posting ever, I was very uncertain how to do it and FFnet was not being very nice to me when I tried to put in two chapters, so I abandoned the idea of multiple chapters and merged it into one. Now that I know how to do it properly, I am now going back and breaking it up like it should have been done originally.

Soldiers & Heroes

Disclaimer: quickly hides a Legolas doll behind back What? Oh. Yeah. I don't own anything, I swear. ;) But seriously, I own nothing and make no profit off writing these lovely pieces. Everything belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien's estate, his heirs, and maybe even a little to Peter Jackson. I may be an obsessive LOTR fan, but I'm not a criminal!

Rating: K+ – angst, a little bit of violence and tears

Summary: The number of Elven casualties in the Battle of Helm's Deep weighs heavily upon Legolas, and the terrible thought that he failed his kin and himself will not be dissuaded easily. Part movie-verse.

A/N: This is my first fanfic to be published, and I've got 3-4 others lined up behind this to post. So, if everyone likes my writing (that is if you can tell in a two-part fic), you should find more within the next few days. Please R&R, and thanks for reading!

-ArcherGal2932

Part I - Failed

"Togo hon dad, Legolas!"

Legolas whirled around. His sharp eyes immediately focused upon the Uruk that was charging straight at the wall, a sizzling torch in hand.

"Dago hon!"

The Elven prince had an arrow drawn back and ready to fire in an instant. Dark sapphire eyes locked upon his target, his fingers tightened around the fine bow hair as he drew it back. You must hit. You cannot fail. With a zing his beautiful arrow launched itself into the air. It found its mark at the base of the neck. The Uruk stumbled, but did not stop.

"Dago hon!" Aragorn's voice had a desperate edge now. The Uruk was closer, so close to reaching its target. If you miss, you will die. Everyone will die that stands on this wall. You must not miss. Kill it.

Legolas drew another arrow. He fitted it to the string, and drew back quickly. His hand did not waver; the 150-pound draw weight had no effect on him. Focus on your target. Keep the arrow level across your hand and parallel to the ground. Fire.

As Legolas' hand released the string, time seemed to stop. He could no longer hear the shouts and screams of the Elves around him, nor of the Uruk-hai that threatened to overcome the wall. His eyes, sharp as an eagle's, watched as the arrow flew through the air. He could not miss. He would not miss. It will kill the Uruk, his friends would be safe, they would live, they would all live…

The Uruk hardly registered that a second arrow had struck him. All he felt was a sharp pain in his left shoulder, and with one last leap he leapt at the wall, hoping for contact.

No.

Legolas felt his breath hitch when the Uruk did not fall. There was an explosion of white light, and then a deafening blast shook the ground he was standing on. The rock wall crumpled and burst, sending debris and soldiers flying in every direction. Legolas was blinded by the dust, and he raised an arm to protect himself, but it was futile. He was flung backward, slamming into the ground with a thud. Pain rocketed up his back and head, and he slumped to the ground, feeling ill at the sickening crunch of bodies hitting the ground and smashed by rocks. Blackness threatened to overcome him, and he struggled to stay awake, trying to get up. His body would not respond, instead sending zings of pain up his side and head where he had smashed into the age-old stone when he tried to move. Legolas heard the shouts of Gimli and Aragorn as they fell, and felt his heart tear in two.

You failed them.

You failed yourself.

You are going to die.

You killed your kin, you extinguished their immortal flames.

They are gone.

You failed.

Then a void of blackness took him.