He wouldn't let go.
He knew that he was fighting a losing battle. There was no way he would make it out of the abyss on his own.
One hand was all that kept him falling into death, and he would not release his hold.
The abyss pulled at him, sucking at his legs and body, whipping his hair around his face. Every so often, he would feel his fingers slip a little further. There was nothing he could do about it, and it frustrated him to no end.
Why had he not accompanied Elrond? Why had he not left when he could?
How ironic that now he was unwilling to die, it was the only choice left available.
Legolas ground his teeth together and tried to bring his other hand up to grasp the ledge.But it was as if the arm no longer existed. The elven prince groaned. He had no hope left. Only his will. His stubborn, tenacious, unruly will.
His father's will.
The pull of the abyss was no longer welcoming. It mocked him even as it sought to drag his fingers loose. The fair elf cursed the pull even as he tried to tighten his one-handed grip.
He wished he could hear his father's voice.But in the abyss, there was no sound except what came from his own throat.
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" Lord Elrond?"
The dark-haired elf raised his head to see the master healer, Helith standing before him. He tried to smile, but could not manage it. " What can I do for you?"
" My lord, I am worried about the king."
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Elrond strode down the hall toward the healer's wing.
There, standing before the door, was Thranduil. He was clothed entirely in black. No crown, nor even a circlet. His hair was the only thing that shone in the dim light of the hall. Usually unbound, it was now held back in braids.
Elrond froze for a moment, unsure of how to approach his friend. He wondered, as he gazed at the king of Mirkwood, how stillness could manage to portray so vivid an image of unfathomable grief. Finally, the elf lord stepped forward again. " Thranduil…?"
Thranduil looked up and sighed as he saw Elrond approach. " Yes?"
" The healers are worried about you, mellon nin."
The fair king sighed again, and turned away from his friend. He leaned against the door; pressing his forehead against the cool wood.
" At the moment," He said quietly, " I am not overly concerned with the healers."
The dark-haired elf opened his mouth to say something, but Thranduil cut him off.
" Every time they speak to me, they find some way to mention it is time to think of Legolas' funeral preparations. Every. Single. Time."
Elrond's eyes darkened. He would speak to the healers about this.,
" I know that something will have to be done eventually," the Elvenking continued. " And yet.Whenever I think of actually.Going through with preparations, I feel.," the blond elf seemed to struggle for words. Frustrated, he turned and faced Elrond. " I feel as though I would be burying him alive!"
Elrond's heart clenched as he saw the pain and frustration etched into this friend's face. His blue eyes were filled with tears, though none were on his cheeks.
" It has only been one day," Thranduil's voice cracked and he bowed his head, a hand coming up to cover his eyes. His voice sank to a murmur that Elrond had to strain to hear. " Can they not give me just a little more time?"
The Lord of Imladris had to clear his throat before answering. " They will." His voice was determined, and his eyes had turned to cold steel. " Come with me, mellon nin. We will 'talk' with your healers.
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This was the end. Legolas knew any moment now his fingers would slide from the edge and he would fall. The pull of the abyss had become steadily stronger, and he no longer had the strength to resist.
There.His fingers were slipping...,
A cry welled up his chest, forcing its way out of his throat.
It echoed into the blackness that surrounded him even as his hand slid away from the edge...,
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"ADA!"
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Thranduil froze, his mind refusing to believe what his ears had just heard. Disregarding the rational part of his senses entirely, the Elvenking sprinted back down the hall, Elrond following close at his heels.
'It couldn't be,' one part of his brain whispered even as he ran. 'it couldn't be, it couldn't be.'
'Faster,' howled the part he was listening to. 'Your son is calling for you.'
The blond elf hit the healing wing's door at full tilt, ignoring the knob and tearing the latch clean out of the wall in his haste.
" Legolas!"
Thranduil leapt to his son's side. " Legolas!'
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Mellon nin- My friend0-0-0-0