A/N: Right, fourth chapter. I'm soooo glad I haven't lost interest yet, and am not likely to be soon :)) In the last chapter ("flying2) I used lyrics from a song form the film's soundtrack, and the song is actually called "Evenstar". I said it was from something else, sorry about that. Oh, and there was a little lyrics in it, where it said, which must have seemed weird for Aragorn to sing to Legolas, so I'll just say again it's NOT a slash. An answer to the question made by sUp3rhiRo, is no, I don't think this story will have any particular pairings, besides that of Aragorn & Arwen. Though it will certainly seem as though there might be implied stuff between Legolas and Eowyn, but it won't be going anywhere. Oh, and my older sister has just called me very rude word... how charming. Also, in the summary it said a slow poison, so you might be wondering why its working so fast if it's supposed to span the trilogy, it'll be explained here. So, keep reviewing and whatnot, it keeps me going. I see a review and think "FOOD!!!" Hehe. I think that's all i need to say. Have I said THANK YOU for the reviews? Yes? Okay, read on...
Disclaimer: anything that is familiar is not mine, ergo Lord of the rings is not mine, nor the characters.
Starcrossed
Cursed Butterflies
Gimli bristled indignantly, but said nothing as he glared at the new elf, a silence for which Aragorn was glad of. The elf only smirked in return, but signalled for the archers to lower their bows.
"What brings a dwarf to Lothlórien?" He enquired, his words clipped and hostile.
"We have come from Rivendell," Aragorn spoke with no hesitation, at ease even in the midst of armed elves. "And we have need of your assistance."
"Rivendell? So this must be…" The elf murmured thoughtfully, ignoring the dwarven daggers sent his way as he turned to the ranger. "Where is-" He broke off abruptly, frowning in utter shock as he finally noticed Aragorn's burden, and he took in Legolas' condition silently as he strode to face them. Legolas was still supported heavily by Aragorn, but with his head bowed and skin waxen it seemed he was more hanging than standing, and what little weight he placed on his own legs caused them to quiver with strain. It was clear he was barely conscious.
"How is it that the prince of Mirkwood came to be this way?" He asked curiously, the frown still riddling his brow.
"We were attacked in Moria, by orcs and goblins." Aragorn replied gravely, before practically spitting out another word. "Saew" //poison//
The elf frowned again, appearing thoughtful before issuing a swift order to his companions, never once taking his eyes from the elven prince.
"You will follow my brothers. They will take you to our camp for now, but I will take Legolas Thranduillon." He told the fellowship, as two elves stepped forward from the group of archers.
Again, there was little hesitation as Aragorn shifted Legolas' weight to the leading elf, motioning for his cautious companions forward as they were led away, and so the last they saw of their elven companion was his back, as the elf leader disappeared with him down a different path.
He was well aware of the fact that he was walking, albeit barely, and that he was being supported by another. What confused him was everything else.
Sounds blended into one another, leaving only a muddled buzz, and the only think he was able to decipher from the blurred splodges and fuzzy outlines of his sight, was that he was in a place of green- very green. He blinked vigorously, trying to make sense of the nonsense, but failing at that, he abandoned the attempt and instead stumbled on robotically. He came close to tripping multiple times, but every time his supporter would easily steady him, and tighten the grasp on his wrist and around his waist. Legolas frowned as only he could. Hadn't the supported been on his other side? And wasn't this unknown figure a considerable amount slimmer than before? Surely they had not been walking so long that the supporter had lost that much weight.
You are delirious, Legolas decided to himself, but then the grasp on his wrist was released and he felt a cool, slender hand press to his forehead. Ahh cold, he thought gratefully, as another hum was added to the continuous buzz. He felt his mind beginning to clear, and soon his eyes were able to pick out bushed and trees, and he heard a voice speaking in his native tongue.
"Legolas Thranduillion, speak if you hear my voice." The voice was oddly familiar, but before he could ponder it, a wave of nausea washed over his senses, and he collapsed.
Swift arms caught his immediately, and he felt himself being cradled against a body as slender as the hand. He blinked, willing the dizziness away as the face above him cleared, revealing unmistakably elven features.
"Haldir?" He rasped, wincing at the pathetic croak of his voice.
"Aye, Thranduillion, it is I." Haldir's face smiled slightly, but looked back to the path as he resumed walking, carrying the elven prince carefully in his arms.
Legolas thought back to his youngest years, when his father had to resort to carry him asleep to his bed, countless times. The differences between then and now were stark, but through the queasiness he felt the same safety as in his father's arms. He took another deep breath, but his mind blurred one again, and he was sure the air was thickening as they ascended stairs.
"Where are the others?" He whispered, regretting it as the sound scratched at his raw throat.
"Rumil and Orophin are leading them to camp." Haldir answered, lightly jumping from one platform to another as if it was merely another step. "We take the quick path to the lady of light."
Legolas nodded dazedly, but immediately stopped when a sharp pain shot through his brain. Haldir paused to look down at him, shifting his hold to stop Legolas' head from lolling, but it was too late. Why was the world spinning? Legolas tried to make it stop, but just thinking sent more pain shooting through is skull, and he couldn't suppress the groan from his lips. It felt as if orcs were setting fire to his brain, and dancing around the bonfire. He could see Haldir's panicked look, and suddenly they were running- no, flying -through the trees and across stairways and platforms. The wind whistled deafeningly in his ears, and he squeezed his eyes shut, turning his face into Haldir's chest as another pitiful whimper escaped him. Their speed increased at the sound, but the wind became muffled through Haldir's soft closing.
"Legolas! Stay with me, son of Thranduill! He heard the March warden's urgent voice call him, but the harsh snapping of a twig brought only another moan from his lips. The bonfire was growing, and trolls were joining the victory dance.
They were ascending again, but now other elven murmurs drifted past, and suddenly they were in a room.
"Set him here, Haldir." A velvet voice rang through the air like a chime, dispelling all other sounds with its beauty.
He felt Haldir set him down on a soft bed, lain down as gently as a priceless ornament. Soft hands carefully stripped him of his tunic and unwrapped the bandages, leaving him bare from the waist up; a fair voice cursed swiftly and ugly.
"Forgive me, my lady." Haldir apologised immediately, his words relieving Legolas. 'My lady', the elven prince thought, Lady Galadriel.
He hissed in pain as the same soft hands probed the wound, but the velvet voice came again, calming him from the pain.
"Sleep, tithen greenleaf." It soothed him, lulling him as a single, soft hand smoothed his fevered brow. "You are safe now." //little//
He let the hand soothe him, and willingly, the comforting dark take him.
Night had fallen by the time they reached their destination, but even so, the moon shone bright, and scattered lamps lit the platform. Frodo was sure he could see a faint glow emitted from the elves themselves, enhancing the image of their otherworld aura. Pippin yawned next to him, his small legs dangling from the platform as he gazed around boredly.
"What's happening?" The young hobbit asked his fellow kin after a moment, but was interrupted when another elf bounded lightly up the stairs and onto the platform, and their attention was averted to the stern elf from before.
"I am Haldir, March warden of Lothlórien." He introduced himself in the same curt manner, running his grey eyes over the seven.
"I am Aragorn-" The ranger started.
"-Son of Arathorn." Haldir finished for him. "Yes, we know of both you and the fellowship of the-"
"Is Legolas okay?" Pippin interrupted, earning a glare from his cousin, but the March warden merely considered him for a moment before answering.
"Legolas Thranduillion is being tended to by Lady Galadriel herself. He shall recover soon." He replied. "In the meantime, you have been granted stay in Lothlórien. We will take you to Caras Galadhon, from there the Lady Galdariel shall decide your fate."
"The fellowship lies in your debt." Aragorn thanked softly, inclining his head.
Haldir did the same, before turning and swiftly leading them on. This time they threw caution to the wind, and admired the forest around them as they walked, suddenly no longer tired. It was as if the trees lent them the will, as if the beauty gave them strength.
"Do you think Legolas really will be alright?" Pippin whispered as they walked.
"Of course he will, Pip." Merry whispered in reply, "If Master elf says so, then he is."
"But… it was my fault wasn't it?" Pippin said glumly, looking down at his feet. "I fell into him."
"No, Master Peregrin." Gimli's rumbling voice spoke up behind him. "The ground was wet. It was by no fault of yours that you slipped, and so it was by no fault of yours that it happened to be Master elf whom you slipped into."
"And perhaps you did a good thing by that, dear Pippin." Boromir said over his shoulder to them. "It would have been worse had Legolas collapsed while we were in a more dangerous position. Say, a hill?"
Pippin's mouth opened into an 'o' and he nodded, apparently satisfied with the reply as he cautiously touched a nearby flower with his finger. A grin appeared on his face as the flower opened to reveal further colours in its bud, and the sight lightened Frodo's heart. Pippin had found his merriment again.
The silence, though companionable, was long, as they felt words would only ruin the unexplainable beauty that was Lothlórien. It wasn't long before they finally arrived at their destination, and Haldir stood proudly on the hill, gesturing to the sunset lit forest beneath them.
"Caras Galadhon. The heart of Elvendom on earth." They gazed in wonder, drinking in his words. "Realm of the Lord Celeborn and of Galadriel, Lady of Light." He finished, before leading them down a winding path, outlined by almost unnaturally green shrubs of all different types; Sam's boggled eyes threatened to drop out as they passed. The winding path finally led them to ladders, stairs, platforms, and trees so tall and thick, you couldn't even begin to fathom seeing the tops. Sam was under further risk of going bind.
" You may all regain your strength and health before having audience with Lady Galadriel." Haldir told them, his words more of a command than an offer. "Fresh clothes have been laid for you."
And with that Haldir disappeared, leaving the fellowship to be led to the base of one of the giant trees, where clothes, much like their own, were indeed waiting for them. They gladly slipped into them, but not before washing to the possible extent, with water brought to them. Much to the hobbit's delight, the water was closely followed by food, and a lot of it: ranging from fruit; vegetables; mushrooms; meat, and even red wine.
They made very short work of it, in absolutely no time at all, and the seven lay back for a respite with stomachs fit to burst. They couldn't believe their sudden fortune, but were trying very hard when Pippin's voice suddenly piped up once more.
"Do you think Legolas will really be alright?" The six others audibly groaned in defeat.
Legolas felt the wind whip through his hair, and spread out his small arms, smiling happily as it licked his face and lifted his blond hair.
"Legolas? What are you doing, tithen draug?" A soft, musical voice called out from behind, and he turned, jumping playfully onto his mother with a wolfish howl. //little wolf//
The elven queen laughed as she caught him, swinging around and up into her arms. He giggled as she tweaked his small nose and settled down on a blanket lain on the grass, where a woven basket sat, opened to reveal the delicious view of fruit, bread and- for the queen- wine.
"Open wide, nana." The little prince ordered his mother, and popped a grape into her mouth with his little fingers, giggling again when she nipped at them. //mummy//
With a happy sigh he allowed his mother to bring a grape to his own mouth, only to have it teasingly pulled away at the last moment, leaving him to bite a mouth of air.
"Hey!" He chased her hand as her joyous laughter warmed his heart, until he caught it and pulled the grape from her fingers with his teeth.
"You've beaten me, Legolas nîn." His mother sighed dramatically, watching in amusement as he kept his hold on her hand, curiously spreading her fingers and entwining them with his own stubby digits. The soft wind caught his hair, identical in colour to hers, and he turned back to her, his cherubic features lit with joy. She lifted her free arm out as an invitation, and he gladly moved into her embrace, hugging her neck tightly as he rested his head on her shoulder. //My Legolas//
The elven queen smiled again, hugging him back as he idly played with her long hair, twirling it around his fingers. After a moment the young elfling yawned, before loosening his hold on her neck and slid down into her embrace as she cradled him close to her chest. Legolas' eyes were half-lidded, but he slowly traced the patterns on her dress with a finger.
"Nana?" The young prince asked. His slurring voice was muffled slightly.
"Yes, mell nîn?" His mother replied softly, looking down at him. //my dear//
"I'm tired, nana." He whispered. His finger stopped, but his small hand rested against her chest.
"Then sleep." She murmured, smoothing his long hair as she began to slowly rock, singing a soft lullaby to her son.
"Will you be here when I wake?" He enquired sleepily, his eyes gradually losing their focus.
"Always" She whispered back, expertly threading the word into the lullaby as the prince's cobalt eyes glazed into sweet elven dreams. With another soft smile she placed a lingering kiss on her son's sleeping brow.
But when Legolas woke, he lay only on the blanket. He sat up, looking around wildly, but his eyes met only a cold mist.
"Nana?" He asked into the mist, shuddering when the wind bit his bones. A soft figure formed in the mist, a mere shadow as it silhouetted in the grey.
"Nana?" He called again. The figure slowly began to turn. He gasped in horror and stepped back, stumbling and falling ungracefully onto his rear as his foot met the basket. Red eyes bore into him.
"Nana???" The prince cried fearfully, his voice rising in pitch as hysteria took him, and tears threatened to spill.
"Legolas!" A familiar yell was thrown back at him, and he spun dumbly, trying to seek out the voice of his mother. "Noro!" //run!//
But he couldn't move: fear froze him to the spot. The tears flowed freely now, running down his face as he tried to back away from the figure, still on the ground.
"Nana!" He sobbed, his face contorted in terror.
A cackling filled his ears, and a single scream pierced through the mist.
*
"Naneth!" Legolas bolted upright in the bed, gasping for breath as sweat poured from him in torrents.
"Shhh. Calm, little Greenleaf." A soft voice soothed him, and he felt fair hands gently push him down, cold against his skin. Where was his tunic? He looked down to see only the white bandages wound around his waist. He allowed the hands to push him down, gratefully sinking back into the pillows, his breathing still ragged.
"Calm, Greenleaf." The voice repeated. "Breathe with me. Calm." The hands took one of his, and held it comfortingly as Legolas closed his eyes and concentrated on steadying his gasps, listening carefully to the barely existence, steady breathing next to him. It took longer than his pride could allow, but eventually his breathing slowed, and though not as calm as that of the soft voice, was controlled. A thumb patiently stroked his hand as he finally opened his eyes, surprised by what he saw. Lady Galdriel sat next to his bed, her beauty hooded in the shadows of the twilight.
"My lady?" He whispered, his voice hoarse and rough.
"Yes, Legolas Thranduillion." She replied with a soft smile, letting go of his hand to soak a cloth in a bowl of water. "It is I." He opened his mouth to say more, but she shushed him, using the wet cloth to cool his face, wiping away the sweat.
"Do not speak, young prince." She ordered carefully, "You must rest, for rest is what is needed."
"But-" He started uselessly, only to have her shush him again.
"Your companions are safe." She told him, moving the cloth down to his neck. "I shall be meeting them, after they are fed and well rested."
Legolas simply nodded in response, letting the cloth soothe him, and succumbed to an easier sleep.
The seven stood uneasily, fidgeting relentlessly as they anxiously awaited the lady Galadariel. Next to Frodo, Pippin was the worst of them, every now and then repeating the same question.
"When are they coming?" Pippin enquired for the nth time, and Frodo was forced to take calming breaths as Sam answered.
"Soon," The gardener whispered back, finally losing what little patience he'd kept. "And if you ask one more time, Mr Pippin, I don't know what I'll do." He successfully managed to suppress another question, but Pippin only lasted another moment.
"…I was merely enquiring…" Pippin muttered, but before Sam could grab his saucepan, two glowing figures seemed to materialise onto the steps.
Even the dwarven member of their company allowed his jaw to drop as two heavenly elves glided down, one a male, and the other a female of such beauty, that Frodo's heart threatened to leap into his mouth. They stood at the last step and regarded them silently, every bit as proud as elves should be.
"The enemy knows you have entered here." The male started, his voice rich and powerful as he gazed sullenly. "What hope you had in secrecy is now gone… Seven there are here, yet nine there were set out from Rivendell." His eyes narrowed as he examined each of them closely. "The son of Thranduillion, I know, has been accounted for, but tell me, where is Gandalf? For I much desire to speak with him… I can no longer see him from afar."
The hobbit's heads bowed, and even Aragorn could not bring himself to speak up, but a softer, mesmerising voice spoke.
"Gandalf the Grey did not pass the borders of this land." Lady Galadriel murmured, her voice almost a whisper. "He has fallen into shadow…"
Aragorn's eyes bore anguish as he met the eyes of the Lady of Light, and Lord Celeborn's head tuned to her, his grey eyes shocked.
"He was taken by both shadow and flame." Aragorn finally summoned the courage to say, his words heavy. "A Balrog of Morgoth."
"For we went needlessly into the net of Moria." Gimli finished gravely, receiving stares from the hobbits. Rarely- never –did the dwarf speak ill of anything to do with his kin.
"Needless were none of the deeds of Gandalf in life." Lady Galadriel corrected him softly. "We do not yet know his full purpose.
Frodo's mind widened at the words, and a small flicker of hope was ignited in him. Surely of such a lady of power dismissed the seeming doom of the fellowship, all was not lost? The hope was replaced with an odd prickling sensation, and he was soon to realise Lady Galadriel's gaze rested on him- or rather, through him. It felt as if she could see down to the depths of his mind, and sort out his bad thoughts from his good. He felt naked before him, and strangely, it was a feeling he cared for not. He was aware she was still speaking, but slowly his hearing diminished, and all that was left was a sole whisper.
Welcome, Frodo of the shire, It spoke, one who has seen the eye!
Legolas stood at the window, his loose tunic lifting slightly as he crossed his arms over his chest, and regarded the golden wood silently. Behind, he could hear the soft sound of fabric on fabric, and mentally noted the lack of footsteps.
"Are you well rested, young prince?" Came the expectedly musical voice.
"Very much so, I thank you." He replied softly, staying to face the window.
"You have not asked after your companions," The Lady of Light continued. "So I presume you have already been informed of their well being… Haldir?"
"He was here when I awoke." He replied, still staying in his position, not turning to face her.
A butterfly passed by, easily the size of his hand, and he watched as it went on its way, turning and looping as its colourful wings fluttered rhythmically. He wondered how easy it must be, to be such a small, yet infinitely magnificent creature. It looked to be impossibly carefree, floating lightly in the air, and Legolas found himself wishing that he and it could trade roles. Oh, how he'd long to live without hurt, worry or anxious fear. But the life of a butterfly was cursed with short mortality, and surely they spent what little time they had thinking of their remaining time? A week? Two? Maybe that was what made their life all the more beautiful: to savour and appreciate all miniscule aspects in life: to love all, and see all.
Mirkwood had no butterflies, only poisonous spiders.
"Unasked questions only lie restlessly." The voice came again. "Speak what is in your mind, tithen las." //little leaf//
Legolas closed his eyes for a moment. She already knew his question, so why must she ask, and put him through this? With a sigh, he slowly unfurled his arms and turned to face her.
"Haldir hid his troubled this morning, but only transparently." He began, meeting her piercing eyes. "I'm not the wisest of elves, certainly not." He hesitated slightly, his eyes wavering from hers. "I wish to know the extent of my injury."
She was silent for a moment, merely contemplating him with her eyes of stone. He lowered his own, finding interest in the ground."
"The poison is one that even I have never had the misfortune to come across." She finally stated. "It coursed through your veins and blood like a flood, inflicting everything in its path. However, your elven blood caused a riddle of its intentions, and you were spared a whole phase of pain. Your death was brought closer, and you would have perished had Haldir not gotten you to me in time."
He raised his head slightly, leaning heavily against the bedside table.
"We could not rid the poison, it taints your blood even now." Legolas closed his eyes as she continued. "But the effects are slowed." For a moment he remained as he was, drinking in what she's said with his head bowed.
"How long?" He whispered eventually.
"A year at most." She replied serenely.
"And the pain of the end?"
"I'm afraid, young prince, it is not the end that shall be painful for you." She paused, and reached out a slender hand to lift his chin, forcing his eyes to meet hers. "The effects shall eventually become inevitable, but with will, you can delay. Keep your heart full, Legolas, and the pain and suffering shall be held back. Anguish and despair will only worsen you."
She kept his gaze for a moment longer, before withdrawing her hand, and standing at her full height in front of him.
"Another decision must be made." She continued softly. " Will you go back to Mirkwood, young prince, and live out your days in the midst of your people?"
Legolas stood fully, meeting her gaze with level.
"Nay, I would rather see this through… to the end."
That was slightly cliché, sorry about that... I think I've fallen in love with fluffy fics involving a ickle Legolas, and either his mother or father, or even both! They make me smile :)) I also think Eowyn and Legolas go well together, so if anyone has any suggestions for good ickle Legolas, or Legowyn fics, please tell me! Thank you for taking the time to read, and yes, I know that this was split up into a lot of different sections of Legolas and Frodo views, sorry if you didn't like that. Don't forget to review!