Disclaimer: Dragon's fire may burn me, roast me to a flame. But I shall never claim LotR as mine, for as long as time shall remain. (Lol)

Chapter Twenty-Nine

The Medallion : Concluded

Three Hundred Years Ago

Mirkwood

...During their past month, the orcs had always left a trail behind. And now, there was no sign of even a broken branch. It was almost as if they had disappeared. But that was impossible, orcs were not skilled enough to hide traces of their existence so throughly. His grey mount called out in fright and the rest of the horses started at the sudden noise.

"Easy my friend." Legolas called, reaching out to the horse, but the gelding only flattened his ears and screamed in fear. "What is it?"

"Milord?" Called one of the warriors softly, Legolas turned to him, noticed with a deepening frown that the others were drawing arrows from their quivers and fitting them to their bows.

"Tathar?" Legolas called in reply.

The warriors were looking up into the tree tops, and Legolas never had a chance to draw even his ivory daggers before they attacked...dropping from the trees above. And as he watched the first land in front of him, he could only wonder in astonishment how they had surprised them all like this.

There had been no time to brace himself, no time to even draw his daggers before the first ones started to fall. Dropping from the trees like insects they swarmed about the unsuspecting elves who had little time to prepare a defense against the sheer numbers of the goblins who had already begun to over-whelm them.

And it was then, that the first warrior fell. Legolas felt a pang of pain and guilt as he watched his companion fall. And with a start he realized it had been his body-gaurd, Cullas. Cullas had been the first to fall...and he would not be the last.

There were more orcs before him now...surrounding him and forcing him to rethink his strategy. Thus far, it had mainly been slicing through their ranks and trying to battle with his initial surprise...but that surprise was over now. And he realized that the ranks of orcs were swelling. He slung his bow again over his shoulders, choosing instead his twin daggers which were preferable for hand to hand combat.

The orcs were heavily armored, and it amazed his further that they had been able to stay so soundlessly in the trees...unless they had made noises and he and his company had been too stupid to realize what they were...it was definitely something he did not want to consider further. Setting his face into one of deep concentration, he blocked and parried with the screeching goblins as they howled and moved closer in on them.

He felled many, taking grim satisfaction as he watched them die...but that satisfaction was soon dissolving as he noted that no matter how many he killed...their numbers still increased. And Legolas knew, with a calm serenity that startled him slightly, that his life was not nearly so indispensable.

They kept coming in, he slashed and he parried, he slit their throats and spilled their insides...and still they kept coming. He was covered in orc blood now, he could feel the warm, sticky liquid on his arms. And suddenly, he felt a flash of pain in his thigh and with a startled cry he fell to his knees. He looked down, still growling menacingly at the approaching orcs. There was a dagger, an orc dagger protruding from his left thigh. There was another flash of pain in his arm as an orc slid its knife right through it.

"PRINCE LEGOLAS!" Someone called, it was one of his warriors, he could not see his face. There were more jabs now, the circle of orcs forcing him to the ground. The pain was beginning to intensify, his vision blurred.

"Retreat!" He shouted, "Go! Tell my father!"

"We cannot leave without you!" The blurry voice said desperately.

"GO! I will not let you die because of me!" He growled, he was falling forward, the orcs all around. And he wondered suddenly as his vision blackened completely, if his father would ever forgive him for disobeying his last command.

Don't die.

"Prince Legolas?" The dreamy voice called into his blurred thoughts. He suppressed the urge to move, it was too wonderful here...to wonderful to leave. But the voice kept calling and with a resigned sigh, he tore himself from his dream.

And his efforts were immediately rewarded by pain...and lots of it. He groaned at the suddenness this new feeling and squirmed a little to try and relieve it.

"Don't move your highness." Said the voice again, only it had lost its dream-like quality, and now sounded much more harsh...more real.

Legolas grimaced over the wave of pain and slowly opened his eyes, finding himself looking into the face of a battle-worn, brown-haired elf. That face immediately melted with relief.

"It is good to see you awake again milord." The elf said.

"Where am I? What happened?" He asked groggily, his hand slowly rose and he pressed his palm to the pain throbbing on the right side of his forehead. Currently, that pain was what was bothering him the most.

"The battle with the orcs milord...we lost." The elf said quietly.

Legolas turned his grey gaze toward the elf, and his eyes widened in astonishment.

"None of the others survived milord, the orcs were thorough with their work." He stated very slowly, as if each word pained him to speak it.

Legolas closed his eyes, reliving those last memories, the memories before he had blacked out. "How did I survive?" He asked vaguely, he could recall telling the others to go...then how had he survived and the had not?

The elf met his inquiring gaze. "I pulled you out." He said simply and softly. The words, so simple, had a world of meaning behind them...meaning that the younger elf apparently was not yet ready to share. He would not force him to.

Legolas felt his eyes burn hot with angry tears. Those others had been his responsibility, and they had died for him. This elf had risked his life to save him, and now he was alive. And all the others were dead. He looked up into the sorrowful face of his rescuer, fighting back his hatred as he wondered why the Gods had spared him a death that would have relieved so many of his fears and troubles.

"What is your name?" He asked the brown-haired elf quietly.

The elf, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, turned to him and sighed. "Faerlain, milord, my name is Faerlain."

Faerlain...he would remember that name. The name of the elf who had save his life.

The days and nights were always the same, drifting in and out of each other. They were filled with pain and sorrow, hatred and loss. Legolas was feverish for days, he could not move, the pain was everywhere. Consuming his mind and tearing him to pieces, and still Faerlain was there. Holding him steady, helping him to walk, even carrying him further into the woods...and away from the horror of the battle.

They had to keep moving, the orcs could be anywhere, and they would be on top of the battle-weary elves before their worn senses would even know they were there. They had to keep moving.

"Do not sleep yet Prince Legolas, we still have to get a ways further." Faerlain said softly to him as they continued their hellish pace through the forest.

Legolas groaned inwardly, but gave no outward sign of his internal weariness to his comrade. "I think...I will not be able to go much further." He said slowly, leaning heavily on Fearlain's muscled shoulders and stumbling on some unseen object in his path.

"Just hold on." Faerlain whispered to him, then suddenly, he stopped. Legolas blearily opened his eyes and looked into the face of his companion.

"What's wrong?" He asked heavily, his breathing now coming in heaves and gasps.

"We need to get off the ground." He said softly, glancing around the wood with a frown on his face. "Something is following us." He added softly, almost as an afterthought. Legolas stood up straighter, realizing full well that his fears were slowly becoming a reality. If something had indeed followed them, they would not have much time to hide.

Fearlain moved quickly, his body, though slowing through the long strain of the battle and in taking care of Legolas, still moved quickly and gracefully through the forest until they came to a tall tree. Fearlain frowned again as he looked up at it, and then turned to Legolas, meeting his gaze.

"Do you think you could climb it?" He asked quietly. Legolas looked up at the tree towering above them. At any other time he would have said yes in a heart beat, but with a deep wound in his thigh that made movement nigh on impossible...

At the present time, the tree didn't exactly look climbable to him.

He met Fearlain's eyes with the wordless reply the other had, apparently, been expecting. For Legolas didn't even have time to protest as the elf snaked his hand around the prince's waist and began to climb the towering tree. Legolas clenched his teeth as the impact sends bolts of pain through his body, but he said nothing. He tried not to think of what would happen if Faerlain's grip should weaken on his body...or if...by some worse slip of fate, they both crashed to the forest floor.

But by some blessing Faerlain managed to get safely high into the branches without slipping and he sat very still catching his breath before Legolas finally heard what had been following them. It was their prey that had turned so violently against them, for Legolas could see through his widened eyes the orcs as they ran past their hiding place deeper into the forest.

Legolas breathed a sigh of relief and closed his eyes, leaning back against the tree as the last orc past and turned to Faerlain in astonishment. "That is twice that you saved my life from the same vermin."

Faerlain managed a weary smile, "Both times I wasn't only saving your hide your highness, my own neck needed saving as well on both occasions."

Legolas fought the grimace that threatened to surface to his face and peered down once again to the forest floor. "Do you think they've gone?"

Faerlain shrugged, "I don't know. Either way, we might as well keep ourselves comfortable here for a while, I don't know if you noticed, but their ranks are thinning, so either they've been fighting among themselves, or something else found them that we don't know about yet."

Legolas wasn't quite sure which of these guesses sounded better, for neither sounded very hopeful for either of them. In the canopy of the tree, there was a flat alcove that almost looked as if it had been made for the very purpose of occupying strange visitors, there was plenty of room for both elves to stretch out without having to worry about falling to their deaths below.

"Lay down." Faerlain said after a while, "I need to check the cut on your leg, you weren't walking well before."

Legolas tried to protest but the strain of his wound was indeed beginning to tell upon him. He met the other's gaze and, sighing in defeat, he stretched out flat and closed his eyes.

He was asleep before he could even feel Faerlain's hand probing the swollen skin around his wound.

Legolas woke later to the distinct realization that he could no longer move his leg without an intense spasm of pain. He groaned as he tried to move and the all too familiar pounding entered his head once more.

"I was afraid of that." Muttered his companion from somewhere nearby. He felt Faerlain's gentle hands moving across his wound, his clenched his fists in an effort from crying out, and Fearlain's probing suddenly lessened. "Well, that's no better then it was before." The elf said lightly. "I'm amazed you could walk at all."

Legolas fought to remain conscious as his pain whirled inside his mind, he slowly opened his eyes and focused on the other elf, who apparently seemed to be lost in thought. The strange elf enthralled him, so young a warrior showing such amazing ways of surviving. He blinked, studying his companions grey eyes and elegantly chiseled face, one that was marked with stubbornness and fearlessness. The questions whirled around his his mind so fast that they made his head spin, he could not restrain himself any longer. "Fearlain?" He asked hesitantly.

The other's grey eyes fastened upon him.

"The fight, with the orcs...how did we survive?" The question had a double meaning, how did the two of them survive when all the rest had perished. The pained look entered Faerlain's eyes, the haunted gaze that had filled face for so many days.

Faerlain's face was unreadable, the emotions plastered onto to him like a wall, he looked away, "I'd rather not just yet milord."

Legolas did not speak for a long moment, then, slowly, his hand moved to the silver medallion he wore underneath his tunic. He pulled the clasp loose and held it in his hand. The sapphire horse stood rearing in its center, the mark of bravery and freedom. The medallion his mother had given to him. Using his free hand he placed it gently in Fearlain's hand and closed the other's fingers around it.

Faerlain jerked, looking into his hand in wonder and astonishment. He looked back up at Legolas, "You cannot give me this my lord." He said in awe, looking down again at the finely crafted metal.

"I can, and I will." Legolas said softly. "You saved me, and I am in your debt."

"No milord." Faerlain said suddenly. "I did as I was trained to do, and even then it was not enough. I saved you, but my companions were slain." He said bitterly, he looked down at the medallion in his hand, the pain looked appearing briefly on his face. "I do not deserve this." He said softly, he reached his hand out to return the medallion to Legolas but the prince pushed it away.

"You fought with honor Faerlain." A weary smile made its way onto Legolas' face. "And saving me isn't something to be regretful for is it?" For the truth was, the death of his warriors was not Faerlain's fault at all, it was his own. And he would not stand to see so young a warrior burden himself with such a heavy guilt. The elf would tell him his story in time, he would not pressure him for it now.

Faerlain stared at him for a moment more, the look of guilt and sorrow still shadowed in his face, he shook his head, and then fastened the chain around his neck and slid the medallion under his tunic. Legolas nodded with satisfaction, then laid back against the knotted bark of the tree and closed his eyes. "There is one thing you could do for me Faerlain." He said softly as he began to drift off to sleep."

"Yes milord?" The eager voice replied, clearly uncomfortable still for being awarded for actions he did not think he deserved, and wanting still to earn his prince's trust.

"Please, call me Legolas."

It was not yet morning, he could tell by the way the gentle rays of the sun peeked through the leaves of the tree tops. Legolas fought back his groan as all the old injuries melted back into his conscious mind, with surprise, he realized that he was moving. Or...he wasn't really moving...someone else was moving him. He blinked awake further, regretting his decision to wake at all almost instantly afterward. He was draped across Faerlain's shoulders, and by the dampness of the later's tunic, Legolas could tell that the warrior had been carrying him for a while. He was walking quickly, his breathing labored as he ran through the forest.

"Faerlain?" Legolas called weakly.

The brown-haired warrior stopped instantly, jarring his prince's wounds and causing the injured elf to let out a cry of pain. He quickly lowered him to the ground. "I'm sorry!"

"What's...happened?" He panted, battling with waves of pain that tore through him as Faerlain fought to keep him still.

"Your condition has gotten worse, we have to get back to the palace, you need medical attention, it is the only way."

Legolas nodded, knowing full well now that he had no strength left to walk. Faerlain was carefully avoiding stating the obvious, that if they didn't get help soon...he would die. He wasn't sure if the thought of death frightened him or not. Death was the untold adventure, the unwritten story. The story so few of his people ever read. The story both Celebas and his mother had already finished. He wondered vaguely where they were now...whether or not he would be joining them soon.

"No! You mustn't think this way!" Faerlain nearly shouted at him, the warrior frantically applying pressure to one of his many wounds.

Legolas realized he must have spoken aloud and decided it might be better if he just went to sleep now, and saved Faerlain the trouble of dealing with him.

"No! Curses! What is driving this madness Legolas? You cannot leave me now!"

Legolas looked curiously into the face of the younger warrior, he was not terribly young by any standards. Maybe only a few decades younger then the prince himself. Legolas frowned, do I look so old in my own eyes? I feel it. He gazed up at Faerlain, his gaze unwavering. "Why am I not already dead?" He asked gently.

Faerlain's eyes widened, the panic evaporating as the warrior clutched at the medallion beneath his tunic. He looked away, toward the sky, the pain re-entered the grey eyes and he winced as if he had remembered something he rather he had not.

"You were falling, the others fought and I ran into the circle to pull you out." He began slowly. "I pulled you out, and I carried you to the edge of the forest, I went to go back and fight, but the others told me to stay...to bring you back to safety. I did not listen. I ran back to them as they fought, and two of the orcs drug me away. Why they did not kill me I do not know. It was over swiftly for them, and I tried to run back..." His voice broke and he turned away. "I tried to get to them...to save them...but it was too late." His voice cracked and Legolas frowned in confusion.

"Too late?" He asked quietly.

There were tears in Faerlain's eyes as he answered. "There was nothing left to save." He said softly. He took a deep breath, and pulled out the medallion. He stared at it as it rested in his out-stretched palm. He looked up at Legolas, "Why did you give this to me? I fought with no valor or courage, I could not save my friends."

Legolas winced as a wave of pain rippled through his body. "It was given to me by my mother when she lay dying. Celebas had already passed, and she wanted me to live." He focused on the weary face of the elf before him. "You kept her wish for me Faerlain, you, more then me, deserve that medallion. There is no other like it in all of Middle-earth, guard it well."

Faerlain nodded and Legolas closed his eyes, he was so tired now...he had done his part, said what he wanted to say. He could hear footsteps coming rapidly toward them, heard Faerlain jump up to meet their pursuers, but he was so tired...

...and the darkness came too easily.

Legolas stopped, adjusting his gaze to Aragorn. "The next time I woke up I was in my bedroom, my father was asleep by my side. It was some weeks later. A group of warriors had pursued the orcs and slaughtered most, the rest had escaped into various parts of the forest...but there numbers were now few. I recovered not long after, and I returned to my duty of protecting the borders."

"Did you ever see Faerlain again?" Asked the king.

"Yes, a number of times actually. He came to see me when I was recovering, we had long talks, and I would like to believe that we became good friends. He returned to his home in Gilloth when his father passed to the Havens, leaving his mother and sister behind. His sister was a handmaid to my mother, and she returned home with him some years later." The later's grey eyes darkened. "They were in Gilloth as far as I knew when the attack came."

Aragorn's brows furrowed in thought, "And the medallion?"

"Faerlain wore it every day of his life. He took the loss of his company very hard, and the thought of having saved me was the only thing that kept him sane for a long while after." Legolas clenched his fists at his sides. "He would have never given up that medallion Aragorn, and I knew it on sight. Whoever that elf-slayer is, he would never have given it to her."

"So either she stole it..."

"Orshe killed him for it." Legolas finished darkly. "And however she got it, I'm going to find out."

Now you all know why the medallion is so important to Legolas...and why he is so upset that the elf-slayer of Gilloth has it. Now that he knows this...what will be do to poor Victoria? You will see. :) Yes, you will see. :)

Thank you to all who reviewed! Remember, if you want to ask a question, leave your email in your review so that I can answer you. A million thanks to my beta, Kiann!

TO BE CONTINUED...