Chapter 14

The Avenger

Elrond cut down his last orc and yelled out for the hidden elves. "Leithio i philinn!"

From all around the clearing arrows were fired and the remaining orcs fell to the forest floor. Only the demon remained, alone in the middle of this strange turn of events.

Elrond stood straight and tall with his sword out in front, watching the demon with an experienced eye, waiting for any sign to begin. Elrohir and Elladan came and stood on either side of their father, ready to help fight. The demon one last time reached into his cloak and unsheathed his sword, pulling the long black blade from his hip and holding it in the ready position with one hand, now unable to use the one Arien had broken.

Then out from the side of the trees something came running, stopping Elrond in his advancement. Legolas had again joined them in the fight. Standing in front of the other elves, Legolas stood ready, both knives gripped tightly in his hands. The demon held still for just a breath he could see in the young elf's eyes the look of death a death meant for him.

"Get out of my way, you fool," the demon hissed harshly at him. Legolas didn't move from where he stood, but widened his stance and held his blades firmly in front of himself. He wasn't backing down.

"You have killed something dear to me," Legolas said softly, though his voice was filled with strength. "I am here to avenge that death. You won't walk away from me alive."

The demon sighed almost lazily. He glanced amused at the elf and his injures he still bore from the long forgotten orc fight. "You must really want to die, then."

"Without him, part of me is already dead." Legolas refused to say more, and began to advance slowly.

The demon made no sign, but held his sword in his good hand, then suddenly leapt forward with a yell. Legolas met him in the middle, his knives flashing against the demon's black blade.

It was like a dance. Each step looked planned and came out fierce and graceful. It was haunting to .watch. Both of them were constantly in motion, twisting and attacking each other with such skill.

"You may kill me," Legolas ground out through clenched teeth, fighting faster and smoother than ever. "for right now I would welcome death. But this I swear to you, Servant of the Enemy, you shall draw your last breath before I draw mine."

The demon continued to struggle against him, but with his useless wrist and Legolas' fearless attack, he knew he could not win so easily. It was as if Legolas' injuries were no longer there, left behind at Aragorn's side. Though his leg would buckle under him and his ribs burned, he gave them no thought. His every thought on the moves he had practiced so many times. They came to him so easily it was as though his body had a mind of its own and did not wait for the elf to command. But he also fought for death an unspoken plea to release him so he would not have to endure the pain of Aragorn not being there. He would avenge his friend, and then do nothing but plead for someone to end his life.

The look of no fear in the elf's eyes and moves was worrying the demon more with each passing strike. Each time their weapons sand as they clashed against the other, Legolas became more bold, more daring, more reckless, but remained unbeatable. The demon had never met his likes before, nor found an equal in battle. But now he seemed to have found his rival for nothing could stop the young elf's want for revenge or his want to die.

Legolas twisted and dodged, parried and blocked every blow the demon gave. Thrust inward, outward, block, spin around, block, stab out, withdraw, downward cut, he would mentally coach himself, recalling all his time, effort, training, injuries, accomplishments it had all brought him here, to fight and not be beaten.

But then it happened. The demon brought his sword down hard, nearly bringing Legolas to his knees in order to block it without falling, and the elf's weak leg collapsed under him. The strain had been too much, and Legolas had not noticed until it was too late. He dropped to one knee and his endless dance of death faltered as he tried to recover. But that was all it took.

Before he knew what was happening the demon slammed the pommel of his sword right on the top of Legolas' head and the elf fell backward, nearly to the ground as blackness claimed his vision. His dizzy head was thrown backwards, completely exposing his torso his elven knives loosely gripped in his hands. The demon's sword swung downward again, cutting deeply into the elf's shoulder, touching his collar bone, and down into his chest.

Triumph was in the demon's laugh as Legolas cried out in pain one knife fell to the ground and the elf gripped his left shoulder tightly, blood flowing from the deep wound. Biting anguish ripped though him and his vision blurred. He had failed . . .

The demon laughed again loudly. He knew he'd win. What could the elf do now? Walking up in front of the fallen form he again lifted his sword. At least the elf would not interfere with him again.

"You must have really wanted to die, young one," said the demon, his voice ringing with malice and delight. "You fought bravely, but still so foolish. It's too bad you didn't fulfill your oath. You will be the one to draw your last breath before me, just as it should have been. You are a disgrace to your friend."

Legolas' head snapped up, pain written in the tense lines of his face, but there was a strange gleam in his eyes. It was so bright it made the demon stop for just a moment, as if to figure out why the face carried no guilt or hurt in its light.

Then suddenly, Legolas smiled.

But it was no kind, friendly smile. This one was filled with such slyness and a hidden secret that it made the demon wonder. Confused, he watched the elf for a mere second longer, then let his sword fall.

It never made it.

Right then Legolas was back in front of the black shadow, knife in hand, and buried the shinning blade right under the demon's ribs. The demon screamed in fury, but Legolas gave no heed. He was done with this one. He dug the long blade inward, sinking it to the hilt of the knife.

Legolas' gaze was woven with hate . . . hate and such pain. "I . . ." he said slowly, pronouncing each word carefully in a low, deadly whisper. "HAVE . . . NOT . . . FAILED . . . HIM." Tears came with each uttered word. The demon crumpled to the ground, withering slightly in agony. Legolas shoved the blade inward farther for a moment, then wrenched it out. The demon let out another anger-filled cry.

Then from out of the shadows of the trees another figure appeared, and walking into the clearing. He stopped just ahead of Elrond, watching the demon with a stern look in his eyes. He held his staff out in front of him. Mithrandir began to speak in an ancient language, and the tip of his staff began to glow like a star.

Legolas clenched his shoulder tightly, pain almost blinding him, but he stood and walked back over to Aragorn. As he left the demon he picked up both his elven blades and took them with him. One was stained heavily with dark black-red blood. Mithrandir would finish what he had started. But now, he wanted to be with Aragorn. To mourn in finalizing failure, that he, once again, had stopped nothing.

For a brief moment Elrond looked for Aragorn and Legolas, and found them together apart from the group. Legolas was holding the man in his arms tightly, but was making no sound. Gravely worried for them both Elrond turned his attention back to demon, wanting to finish with the demon and take care of his family.

The demon hissed at the sight of the staff that Mithrandir held, and the storm grew more harsh. He was gripping his side, but the blood continued to flow. He was dying on his feet, but refused to go down. "Leave this place, Maiar. You are a fallen people, and even if you kill me, you cannot withstand the Dark Lord forever."

"But we can, and we shall," said Mithrandir, his staff now glowing to the likeness of the rising sun. "for as long as we have the strength to withstand it. We will never back down and let your master rule over us without a fight. And as for you," he said in a voice filled with a majesty and power that would make a Nazgul second-think his actions, "you will not be around to help Him."

The light that emitted from Mithrandir's staff began to shape itself into a large withering coil of light, and took the appearance of a striking snake. The white snake opened his mouth and hissed loudly at the demon, and then at a muttered command from Mithrandir, struck forward with the speed of a lion, falling on the demon with a wrath-filled cry. As the two collided, a huge burst of light exploded from the spot, so that none, not even Mithrandir, could see the final destruction of the demon. When the light finally faded, both the demon and the snake where gone.

All was quiet for a few moments, as the wind blew away any remaining physical memory of the demon. The rain at once slackened to a light drizzle, but did not stop all together, and the lightning faded into the distance. All grew dark. Once the shock and recovery was past, Elrond again searched for his son and Legolas. Finding them, he ran to them with the twins behind him, to the place where Legolas held the man close.

As Elrond neared, an unknown fear suddenly gripped him. Legolas was not talking to the man, but rather had buried his face against the man's shoulder. Nor was Aragorn moving anymore, but now laid still in the elf's arms. Elrond's eyes drifted over to a strange shape on the ground not far away from the two friends and recognized it; it was Arien, and the stallion moved no more. Elrond's heart seized, for Estel had loved the horse deeply. He turned his attention back to Legolas and his son, his voice filled with apology, and confusion.

"Legolas? Legolas, what is wrong?" Elrond stepped forward and knelt by the prince's side, waiting for him to respond. He could not see either of their faces, for Legolas' was hidden against the man's shoulder, and Aragorn's was under the elf's arm. Then Elrond realized that Legolas was shaking . . . crying.

"Legolas?" the elf lord's voice was no longer filled with concern, but now shook with fear. Legolas slowly lifted his head, his tear-filled eyes meet Elrond's, and Elrond knew. He didn't need to hear it said out loud, he could read it in the prince's eyes, could see it in his actions. And with that, everything froze in Elrond's head.