Hey everyone. Forgive me for not updating as soon as I would've liked. As I've said before, my muse ran away. So if anyone happens to see a blonde elf with blue eyes standing at least at 6 feet, and answers to 'Prince of Mirkwood', grab him and send him back to me. Be prepared to use extreme force. Lol.

This will be my last update until the holidays - I'll have lots of time then to get everything back in order. :o)

Disclaimer: See Prologue

Chapter 33

On the Border

Arodwen finally collapsed to the ground; the smell of moss and dry leaves engulfing her nose. She clutched at her burning abdomen, and felt the steady drip of blood from the gash on her forehead, fall onto her free hand.

Darkness was creeping in on her vision, but she forced it away with a whimper; there might yet be orcs around that searched for her and the hobbits.

Merry and Pippin immediately halted and wheeled round at the sound of their companion faltering and falling to the ground.

"Arodwen!" they shouted in unison, hurrying over to help her up.

She was shaking her head, her teeth gritted in pain. "No - no - keep going. Y-You cannot stop..."

"We won't let you alone, Arodwen." Merry said firmly, "Not even if we've to carry you all the way back to Rivendell. No way in Mordor we'd leave 'ya in here by yourself. This place gives me a bad feelin'."

"N-Nonsense..." she gritted out, falling back against an older tree to rest a moment. Her chest expanded greatly as she gulped in great breaths of air."They will protect us - not harm us... But I d-do sense something is amiss... It feels like... they're angry..."

Pippin tugged on her hand gently as he saw her beginning to fall asleep. "No no milady, wake up. We must go on - lest those nasties catch up to us."

Arodwen didn't budge at his pleading, just grinned at the determination of the two. "You two little ones are my first priority right now... And I am telling you to keep going. I'll be alright on my own - I'm an elf, remember?"

Merry stared at her reproachfully, "We aren't leavin' without 'ya. Legolas-"

"Would do the same thing in my situation, Meriadoc." Arodwen cut off, her eyes narrowing in annoyance. "You must trust me, young hobbits. I can hear the orcs from a ways off, and will be able to hide if needs be."

The hobbits just stared at her as if she were insane. "But you're wounded - weak - we can't leave you like this..." Pippin tried, still holding her hand firmly. He noticed that it was covered in her own dried blood.

Arodwen was losing her patience quickly due to her loss of blood and wounds. "Go! Now!"

The two halflings exchanged worried and anxious glances with each other. "But, Arodwen-" Merry and Pipping began together. They were once again cut off by her stern voice, commanding them to go on.

"Will you promise us something?" Pippin asked quietly, as he and Merry finally got to their (overly large lol) feet. He was looking like he was on the verge of tears. It didn't settle well with either of them to leave a wounded companion defenseless in a dangerous forest. But then, who would it settle well with?

Arodwen, eyes half closed, looked at the hobbit with a feeble smile and nodded. "Of course, nin pen mellyn." (my little friends)

She watched as the halfling grinned back and gripped her hand again, whispering, "Promise us that you'll get out of this forest alive? That we'll see each other again?"

The anxiety in his voice was not lost on Arodwen. It would be a lie to promise him such a thing, but the Took needed more reassurance, than discomfort.

She thought about the repercussions of making such a promise, to anyone, and end up breaking it... What if she ended up wanting to pass on?

'Don't say that! Don't ever say that!'

Arodwen was startled to hear the hard, serious, and concerned voice of Legolas resound in her head; echoing the memory of when she had argued with him, and yelled at him that she wished he had killed her, wished to die.

'Why not! I don't care anymore Legolas! There is nothing left for me now! My mother, the only one who ever cared and loved me is dead! I've lived a lie my entire life with a bastard posing as my father! There is nothing left! No one!'

'You have me!'

'No, Legolas. I'll never have you.'

And she knew, knew she'd never have him. She'd love him through death and beyond, but she'd still never have him...

But what she did have right now were the hobbits. And she had to protect them.


Legolas urged Arod faster toward the smoking uruks - his heart in his throat as the smell of burning flesh filled his nose.

Arod loped swiftly over the dead and dry plain grasses, his ears pricked in the direction of his gentle master for any sign of command.

Aragorn cantered ahead of them, his face grim and drawn, but still set with determination. He wasn't going to turn back.

The acrid black smoke tumbled high up to the grey sky; the bodies it consumed unmoving and rotting away.

Aragorn and Legolas dismounted swiftly; the elf too anxious and worried to notice the dwarf that tried to get off the horse inexpertly.

His cerulean eyes searched every bit of ground for a sign of Arodwen while Gimli sifted through the smoldering pile of uruk and orc ashes with his gleaming axe.

Gimli suddenly stopped and stooped forward to pick something out of the charred bones; his gloved hand gripping the object hesitantly as he turned to Aragorn, slowly holding it up...

"It's... one o' their wee belts," the dwarf murmured, his rough voice constricted with disbelief and grief.

Aragorn took one look at it and kicked a nearby orc helmet a good distance, crying out in despair and rage as he sank to his knees.

"We've failed them..." Gimli whispered.

Legolas stood still as a statue; his eyes wide and disbelieving as they stared fixedly on the charred leather Lórien belt.

Was he really seeing this?

Could Fate possibly be that cruel?

His eyes turned toward the bleak heavens as he blinked away the stinging tears that had come to his eyes... She couldn't be gone... He would have at least felt something... pain maybe? A sense of loss?

"Two hobbits lay here..." Aragorn suddenly spoke from where he knelt; his hands sweeping over the grass and dirt with practiced care. The callused hand paused over a few obvious crimson spots that dotted the ground; blood.

"And an elf..." he whispered, "tossed to the ground..."

Legolas's head jerked up; piercing gaze latched onto the ranger as he stood and observed the ground. The Silvan elf strode after the tracker like a hound to its master's heels.

"They crawled... She tried to stand; but her legs must have been bound as well..."

He stooped to the ground quickly, and plucked a severed rope from beneath some trampled grass. He grinned to himself; 'Clever little hobbits...' "They cut their bonds... helped Arodwen to stand..."

Aragorn was following faint footprints toward the forest; nearly indistinguishable from the numerous marks of the horsemen.

"The tracks lead away from the battle!" he exclaimed, now running toward the edge of the dark and aged forest. Legolas, following eagerly, might've run into him; the ranger had stopped abruptly, right at the edge of the foreboding wood. He stared into it with an expression of deep anxiety.

Legolas felt the age of the trees immensely; it made even him feel young to be among life this old. They held secrets... Tales to be told... History to be recalled... and anger to be dealt.

"Come!" Legolas cried to his companions, sprinting forward like a fleet deer into the forest. "They cannot have gone too far into the forest! We may yet catch them! Come!"

Aragorn and Gimli looked at each other. Gimli had an expression similar to that of 'He is jesting, right?'

Aragorn however, just grinned, patted Gimli on the back, then ran on after Legolas.


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