Rivers of Blood

HIYA!!! people run away screaming oh come on, i'm not THAT bad! crickets chirp where the crowds once were humph. oh well, let's get down to business.

Reviews:

fire faerie: yeah i mean FNSG. This is the prequel, so FNSG is the sequel, savvy? COOKIES?!? ooo, i LOVE you!

lulu bell: i do my best, but humor isn't really my thing. glad it was good enough for you.

sparrows angel: thank you!

Lillybeth1: good to hear from you again. glad you like it.

Viresse0: this is sooner then last time. i think

orligurl88: HI!!! long time, no hear. glad you like it, and yes, sigh Arwen is someone to be envied.

Ivory Novelist: Mae Govannan, mellon nin. Good to hear from you again. eagerly awaiting Ned Kelly. sob but the lovely one dies!!

elvish translations will be at the bottom

okay, well that was jolly good fun, but we must be getting onto the story now. cheerio!


The room was packed with elves from across the realm. Their blond hair gleamed in the sunlight streaming from the high windows and many balconies looking over the gardens and woods. All of the people waited to hear the King's announcement. Just then, the royal family stepped onto the stage. The King raised an elegant hand and the people quieted instantly. As he greeted them and thanked them for coming out today, they listened with baited breath. Then it happened.

"My people, I have an announcement to make that might change Greenwood entirely. I have decided to take a new wife." It was as thought the room had been filled with static. Every being in the room remembered the day, nigh two thousand years ago, when their beloved queen had died. The whole realm had gone into mourning for years. The royal family had been inconsolable, especially the king and the youngest son. Those two had had the deepest bond with Tinuviel. When the news reached the monarchs of Orcs, and that they had attacked Tinuviel's riding party, leaving no survivors, the forest went into an uproar.

Eyes now traveled to the youngest prince, trying to gauge how he was taking the news.

Legolas was having a hard enough time already keeping his cool, and shifted under the scrutiny, yet his face remained calm and stoic. He was thinking of the day he had found out his ada was remarrying. The prince liked Thranduil's new interest, he couldn't deny that, but he wasn't at all sure about her being his mother. She could rule a kingdom, he knew, but could she find acceptance here? Thranduil's future wife, Miraear, was kind and gentle, and she had an air of nobility around her. Legolas had thought she was a noble from Lothlorien or one of its domains, judging by her coloring, until Thranduil introduced her as his bride to be. The prince had then tried to distance himself from her. So far, he had been able to make it clear to her that she was not his mother, but she could be his friend, in time. She had given him his space, backed down graciously, and Legolas decided that she might do all right.

He was brought out of his memory-induced trance by the clamor of elves leaving. Turning to his brothers, Belegnaur and Calanar, and his father, he silently asked to be excused. Sighing, the king complied. Swiftly wheeling around, he turned and ran to his room.

By the time he got to the room, he was panting. He had been suppressing the urge all through the speech and he had had to force himself into his memories to escape it. Yanking out a knife from his boot, he held it to his wrist and sliced.

Blood spilled from the cut, dripping onto the floor. Soon there was an identical incision in the elf's other wrist, pouring even more blood onto the already red floor. Sighing in ecstasy, he leaned against the headboard. Beginning to feel faint, he slid down to the floor. Soon, consciousness escaped him.


At this time, Calanar and Belegnaur, Legolas' older brothers, padded up the stairs together, talking quietly. When they reached the landing, they turned right and continued their conversation. Stooping at Legolas' door, the chatter stopped and Belegnaur knocked.

"Legolas?" he called softly. There was no answer. Looking nervously at his brother, he knocked again and called Legolas' name louder. Still there was no answer, and trying the door, he found it locked. The crown prince's worry increased. Why was Legolas not answering? Coming to a decision, he nodded at Calanar, and they prepared to ram the doors.

As their bodies came in contact with the wood, there was a great crack and the doors swung open to admit them. The sight that met the brothers' eyes was heart wrenching.

"Legolas!" Calanar screamed in anguish, running and dropping to his knees beside his younger sibling, Belegnaur following close behind. Calanar's cry seemed to have brought Legolas back to his senses, for now he was blinking and trying to focus his eyes.

"A...Anor?" he said with no little difficulty.

"Aye, tithen gwador, nalmet si." Legolas seemed confused.

"Met?" he said groggily as Calanar and Belegnaur hastily bandaged his arms in effort to stop the bleeding. But the life liquid just continued to seep out.

"Belegnaur na si." Belegnaur looked up as his name was mentioned.

"Calanar, i lumenn' loa dur." he whispered. Swallowing painfully, the elf realized the full danger of what was happening. His brother was fading, falling into darkness. Picking Legolas up and bearing him swiftly to the healing ward, Calanar continued to berate himself. Why hadn't he seen his little brother's anguish and depression before this? Looking back now, the prince could clearly see his "tithen men's" declining health ever since Tinuviel died. The grief must have been tearing him apart and, knowing Legolas, he kept it to himself, not wanting to be a burden to someone else.

He was brought abruptly back to his senses as Belgnaur opened the door to the healing wing and all the healers cried out in worry and in question. Fielding off everyone except for the main healer, the two oldest brothers quickly explained what had happened as Calanar laid his precious burden upon a bed. The wise healer looked grave. Looking over the youngest prince, he remarked gravely,

"Prince Legolas has lost much blood. Binding his wrists helped, but the blood has not clotted yet. That is a dangerous sign. Even if his body does heal now, it will be up to his spirit to decide whether or not he will live." Just then, Thranduil burst in. Miraear was close behind him, but she stopped in the doorway, recognizing that this was the family's time. The king rushed over to the bedside.

"What happened?" he gasped. "One of the healers informed me that my son was gravely injured, but she knew not how. Tell me, how did this happen?" Belegnaur hesitated before answering.

"He... he tried to take his own life, ada. He attempted suicide." Thranduil felt the blood drain form his face. He shook his head in disbelief.

"No..." he whispered. His future wife came up behind his and wrapped him in a loving embrace, her own tears falling onto his robes.

In the grief that fell over the room, there was a uniform sense of horror. To take one's life, or even attempt to, was unthinkable. But there was also a knowledge that they needed to remain strong. Legolas needed their support and, Valar help them, he would get it. But none of them knew how hard the next few weeks would test their resolve.


A/N: translations:

Ada: father

Miraear: jewel-ocean; ocean of jewels

Aye, tithen gwador, nalmet si: Yes, little one, we are here.

Met: We?

Belegnaur na si: Belegnaur is here.

Calanar, i lumenn' loa dur: Calanar, the hour grows late.