One last eagle soared over the battlefield, searching the peninsula of land left from the chasm for food. It did not land, though, the stench was too strong. But with its keen eyes it spotted a light among the strewn corpses. It flew in closer to find it was an elf, one of the blonde creatures, face down in the dirt. It cautiously landed next to him and flipped him over with its beak. Thereafter, uninterested, took off again, continuing its search.
The bird had pushed the blade out. Legolas' hand twitched, and he awoke.
Straining to sit up, he noticed that he didn't feel a thing where he had been stabbed, and that now, all except for his silver tunic, he completely clothed in black. Perplexed but relieved, he stood up only to find that worst of all, he was alone. Everyone had abandoned him…even Aragorn, his best friend.
The saddened elf hung his head. He thought at least his closest companion would've carried hid body, had he actually been dead. A slight nudge to his shoulder startled him. He looked down to see the eagle that helped him seeming to sympathize for him. There was hope…
'They probably went back to Rivendell.' Legolas thought to himself.
"Hm…" he looked at the bird as an idea sparked in his mind, "Man rad na Imladris?" he asked it in Elvish. It turned and lifted its wing for him to climb on. Within seconds they were in the air and soaring straight for Rivendell.
