A/N: Okay, I lied in the last author's note about us making it to Lothlorien in this chapter, but I felt like that needed at least one or two. Hope you guys enjoy this one and don't forget to review!

Chapter 9

The all too excruciating moment passed in a faded mirage of melancholy. Melody choked on some sort of gasp and sob as she watched helplessly as Gandalf fell to his death. She was utterly shocked and had never experienced this before as this was the first time she had ever seen someone die. Her heart felt empty, so very desolate and guilt spread through every corner of her soul. I could have prevented this from happening, her thoughts swirled in this direction and there seemed to be no exiting the self-deprecating mood that had settled.

She sensed the panic that arose beside her and realized the Fellowship made to leave the mines. Arrows were being aimed at them and it was only a matter of seconds before they would meet their target; another lost member of this exceptionally brave group.

So they all hastened their strides and were graced with daylight that bleakly glowed amongst a throng of somber clouds. Paled expressions and disbelief were all that could be seen as many of them crumbled on the mountainside out of grief. Melody clutched at her chest to try and find some type of reprieve for her aching heart. It was too much to bear, she could not do this anymore. No amount of rest could stave off the constant anguish that rapidly multiplied throughout. She allowed several tears to blot her vision until she realized she was shaking. The woman wept not only for the death of the Wizard but for everything she had been through thus far.

Her family, Tristan, and a life back home had been viciously ripped away from her. Melody's effort to push away negative thinking patterns was dashed and she did not know if her previous positivity could ever be reached again. It was the remorse and confusion that made everything too much to handle.

A few minutes seemed more like hours as she held her head in her hands. She had promised herself that she would try to stay strong because it was the only thing she could do. However, the awareness of the whole Company's circumstances at this time afflicted her deeply. Of course, she blamed herself. Even if she was to return to her world after this, Melody did not doubt that she would never forgive herself for this. It was a life. A sweet, caring, and sometimes capricious old man who had taken her in when she had nothing.

And what did she do? She let him die.

Shaking her head, she succumbed to her frustration and sadness. Melody then felt the presence of someone behind her. While she was sobbing she had not heard Aragorn instructing everyone to get up so they could leave.

"My Lady, we must go," Boromir said as he placed a friendly hand against her shoulder. She nodded back to him numbly and started to rise to her feet. Something caught her eye and it was her wrist. Dried and fresh blood had accumulated along her arm and she remembered the arrow that had scraped it whilst they tried to flee the mines.

Boromir noticed this, "You are injured. Go find Aragorn and ask him for some cloth so it will mend quickly." His voice was raw and distraught. Melody could not imagine how Frodo felt at the moment. He was the closest to Gandalf and she could not bring herself to gaze in the hobbit's direction.

Once again deep in thought about the Wizard, she almost forgot to reply to Boromir, "Okay." It was the only thing she could say and it came out wobbly and misconfigured. Turning away from the Gondorian, she started to look for Aragorn who was further down the steep lay of rock. Then, her gaze shifted to her arm. The cut was not pleasant at all, but she did not think that after what had just occurred she deserved to have the attention placed upon her. It was also pretty small and she could most likely get it attended to later when they stopped for rest. Pulling down her sleeve to mask the wound, she looked to the others who morosely wandered down the mountain.

A loud rumbling escaped the open space from where they had just come. Melody shivered involuntarily and wiped the remnants of her tears away with her clean sleeve. Aragorn mentioned something about leaving quickly and even though she was not opposed to the idea, she felt horrible leaving Gandalf in that evil dwelling.

Nevertheless, they had to be on with the quest and seek refuge as quickly as possible. Not only for the sake of their survival; but for their wearied hearts.

Legolas swiftly jogged at the front of the group as the Fellowship made their way to Lothlorien. His own emotions were tattered by Gandalf's death but he understood that he must persevere for the sake of their mission. Death always wrought a flurry of bewildering feelings upon the Elf due to his immortality. He had seen what the cruel hands of time did for those who did not possess his gift. However, it was most unsettling and tragic when someone with endless life suffered an unintended fate.

Great exhaustion nestled in his mind and body, but he dared not reveal it to anyone. The Elf scanned the rest of the group to assess their well-being. It was obvious that they too had similar emotions, but they wore theirs in a flashing manner. Grief-stricken faces caused his heart to constrict and he nearly whipped his head back around to look onward. But his eyes lingered on Melody for a moment and his thoughts took a darker turn.

Her cheeks were pale and contrasted greatly against the dark circles that rounded her eyes. A soft pinkish hue rimmed the outer edges of her eyelids causing them to puff out just a little. She slowly kept pace with the hobbits and her movements were disjointed; something else was wrong with her. He had seen her weep for Gandalf but he knew there was more to her despair and pleas for peace.

Yes, he had decided after their small encounter outside the mines that he would watch her from a distance henceforth. Their conversation had left him without the answers he had desired and he almost felt guilty for harshly interrogating the woman who obviously knew nothing of what he spoke. He had not wanted to come off as an enemy or someone who would hurt her, it was not in his nature. This woman was fragile, so delicate and unassuming of the world she had been thrown into which caused the Elf to pity her somewhat. It was entirely unfair of him to bear such an aversion toward a being whom he had only based an opinion of due to her looks.

This woman was no Vanya. No, she possessed qualities that were starkly different, and not just because of them being different races. In the short time he knew Melody, he perceived she was weak. It was not something to be offended by, Legolas simply knew this to be true because of her age and the aura around her. The way she trembled in Moria and how her palms quaked as he held out his dagger for her to take was enough to understand her lack of strength. He recalled how erratic she was when they leaped over the gap of rock. Vanya would have been one of the first to cross, yet Melody allowed the evil to engulf her soul and freeze her body.

It was not just courage that separated them. The aforementioned aura that only he and Gandalf could sense was vastly disparate. Legolas had known many mortals in his lifetime and was well acquainted with their feas. Humans often emanated restlessness and an unsettling amount of passion. Melody's was almost undetectable to him because of its confusing nature. It had most definitely bewildered him to the point where he didn't know whether to inspect her closer or leave her be entirely. The Elf wondered if the Lady Galadriel might have some explanation for this besides the fact that she was not from Arda. Her insight would surely prove to quench the curiosity that had gnawed at his mind for the past month and a half.

Legolas then thought of the visions that had befallen her. Intriguing as they were, the sight was quite eerie and familiar. Thankfully, she had only succumbed to them twice but even he knew this would not cease any time soon. There had to be some sort of tie between this woman and Vanya. He was certain. A blank stare surfaced in his memory; almost as if she had passed on. Eyes clouded with white and shrouded by unbidden knowledge.

The last reflection made him remember what happened in the mines and his eyes flitted to her forearm. There was a patch of maroon slowly surfacing and staining the long-sleeved garment. His jaw clenched involuntarily. She would surely slow them down and by the pallid hue of her cheeks fever was not far ahead in her future. Why she had not done anything about it was beyond his reasoning. The injury should have been tended to before they left the mines and Legolas mentally chastised himself for forgetting about it.

With a stifled groan, he let himself fall toward the back of the group after he informed Aragorn. The Ranger had cast him a quizzical glance, but Legolas reassured him he was solely checking on the members who were near the back. He did not feel it was necessary to tell Aragorn of Melody's wound because his duty to lead the Fellowship henceforth was already an arduous task in itself. No need to trouble him with a minor cut.

He managed to come beside her and notice how the muscles in her body tightened in his presence. Surely due to their previous argument, but nevertheless, after a moment she begrudgingly relaxed as a result of her tiredness.

"Your wound," He started quietly, "Why did you not ask someone for aid?"

Her bleary eyes met his own, "It's fine. I will manage until we stop for the night." As they jogged her voice was breathy and weak. Yet, it still held a bit of sharpness. Melody's injured arm was clutched at her side and she winced with every footfall. Her pain was increasing, he noted.

Legolas sighed out of annoyance and refrained from sounding hostile in his response, "Seeing as we will not be resting until we reach the Golden Wood, your decision might not have been the wisest. Let me see your arm."

"Since when do you care?" She bit out and he outright ignored her statement.

Legolas held her uninjured arm back so they would stop running. She protested weakly, of course, but it did not faze him. Reluctantly, the woman held out the bloodied appendage for him to examine. To save time, he carefully took her arm from her side and peeled the fabric away. A small gasp of pain escaped her lips as he inspected the wound. His expression did not reveal what he thought of it entirely, but to say it wasn't a pretty sight was an understatement. She would live as long as infection did not occur, but the wound itself was minimal and would require some form of binding and possibly stitches. Maybe Aragorn should have come back with him.

The silence that ensued as he delicately surveyed the damage was unpleasant as he felt her fidget under his light hold. Turning her arm slowly to see the other side, he saw that there was nothing but a few more splotches of dried blood that had accumulated across the plain of creamy skin.

"Is it really that bad?" She asked as innocence invaded her tone. It was a sound he had never heard from her before. Almost pleading and quite the contrast to her earlier statements.

He made the mistake of looking upon her face. It was ravaged by the tiresome day and he concluded that the injury had little to do with her distressed features. Marred and depleted of joy.

The Elf straightened during his reply and returned his visage to her arm, "No, it is not grievous. I will ask Aragorn for some herbs and a bandage. Fortunately, the wound has not festered and will not have the opportunity to. If it had gone unchecked for a few more hours I could not say the same."

"Okay," She bit her bottom lip and he noticed the hesitancy in her next words, "Thank you, Legolas."

The Elf eyed her with curiosity," 'Tis nothing, but I would recommend that the next time this happens you tend to it immediately," He released her arm cautiously, "I will return shortly with the materials. Just stay here."

She remained in the same place as he went to fetch Aragorn. Legolas approached the Ranger and finally released the stoic façade he had adopted whilst conversing with the woman.

"Aragorn, is there a possibility we may halt for a short rest?" He asked as the man stopped his pursuit momentarily.

Confusion knitted his brows together, "We are nearly six miles from the borders of the Golden Wood. If we continue making haste we can reach it before nightfall, so stopping now does not seem plausible."

Legolas shifted uncomfortably, he had a feeling Aragorn would decline his request. Gazing at the back of the group who was catching up with the two of them, he heard Aragorn speak to him again.

"What has happened, mellon nin? Why do you ask this?" The Ranger searched his friend's expression for an answer, "Legolas?"

When he heard Aragorn say his name, the Elf sighed, "Melody was grazed by a goblin's arrow in the mines. The wound is deep, but with proper treatment, it should heal. I fear that doing nothing until we stop will put her health at risk."

Aragorn swiftly turned his head towards the woman who had apparently not listened to Legolas and half-jogged to meet them. The Ranger seemed to have caught on to her weakened stature.

"She did not say anything and we have been running for at least ten miles thus far," He commented in what looked to be slight amazement.

"It was a very foolish decision on her part," Legolas said sharply; somewhat regretting his words when Aragorn sent him a wary glance.

"I do not blame her for doing so," His words sent a trick of guilt down the Elf's throat, "After everything that has come to pass even I would lose sight of an ailment such as hers. I think you would say the same if it had befallen you."

Legolas did not reply but instead felt the presence of the rest of the Fellowship as they finally arrived.

"Why have we stopped?" Boromir asked through heavy breathing.

Aragorn looked to the woman who wheezed softly behind the Gondorian. In a matter of minutes, her condition looked to have severely worsened as a trail of fresh blood trickled from her sleeve. Legolas cringed inwardly as he realized he might have caused that after tampering with the fabric.

"Melody, come here," He instructed softly and she warily took about two steps before her legs gave out. Boromir had luckily caught her before she completely collapsed.

"It's okay…I'm fine," She mumbled and was still held firmly by the man as he stabled her. Small red droplets now found their way to Boromir's tunic and the hilt of his sword.

Aragorn quickly rushed to her side and carefully sat her down in the short grassland. He told Boromir to hold her still while he assessed her symptoms as well as the injury. Remorse twisted within Legolas and he wanted to look away from the scene that unfolded before him. If only he had remembered sooner.

With a flash, he shook away the morbid thought and refocused his attention on Aragorn.

"Legolas, can you retrieve the small bundle of herbs from my pack?" He asked and Legolas made to do so.

Once he located it, he handed them to the Ranger. Aragorn bit the weed-like object into small pieces and began firmly pressing it into her arm. She hissed in pain as the makeshift salve came into contact with the cut.

"Melody, you have a slight fever now, but these herbs should restrict it from increasing. I'm sure all of this running has not been favorable either," He told her as he rummaged through his bag trying to find some sort of binding. Soon enough, he found a small roll of fabric and began to wrap her arm; precariously making sure it would not be too tight.

"There, this should ward off any infection for the time being. Once we arrive in Lothlorien you should make haste to the Houses of Healing where they can better tend to this," Aragorn said as he fastened the cloth with a tiny knot.

She looked at him with sincerity, "Thank you, Aragorn. I-I'm sorry I didn't say anything sooner. I think I just forgot it was there after…"

The Ranger placed a comforting hand on the woman's shoulder, "I know. Do not worry, we shall still reach the borders before dusk. Can you still run or walk?"

"I can try," She said half-sheepishly, "I think seeing the blood just went to my head."

Aragorn gave her a small smile before Boromir cut in, "If need be, I can carry her."

"It's okay, I can manage—" Melody said as she attempted to tackle standing at which she failed miserably. The Gondorian once again clutched her shoulders before she fell. Between the injury and the physical exertion of today, it was no wonder she could not bear her own weight.

Something akin to a stinging sensation glittered within the Elf as he watched the situation. He felt helpless and more so responsible for her ailment. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly at the actions of Boromir as he wondered if his intentions were pure of heart. Quickly shaking the incredulous thought away, he looked to Aragorn before speaking.

"It may be better if I was to carry her," He supplied suddenly; feeling the widened eyes of the woman burn through his cheek, "For I know where the Houses of Healing are and can negotiate a quicker path once we arrive."

Aragorn eyed him with what could have been suspicion, but Legolas did not tarry on that, "Very well. I think that is a better idea. When we reach the border you shall take her there unless other matters persist," The Ranger looked to the rest of the Fellowship who still looked like they were reaching for their own breath, "We must continue now, surely the goblins of Moria will prefer the dark."

The others gathered what was left of their supplies and stalked lazily in Aragorn's direction. Legolas then looked to Melody whose haggard face had become paler. Carrying her for six miles was not exactly what he wanted to do. However, some part of him felt a weight of responsibility for the woman seeing as Gandalf had passed. Twinges of pain struck the Elf at the thought, but he pushed them further away. He could not dwell on Gandalf's death yet. He needed to get himself, Melody, and the Company safely to Lothlorien.

"I'm sure this is the last thing you want to do," She stated glancing away from him and toward the rest who just began to jog again. Even in such a state, she keeps her tongue soaked in venom, Legolas mused to himself. Instantly he felt the same guilt again as her weakness was observed. The Elf felt sorry for her.

"Melody, I want to apologize for my actions outside of Moria," He surprised himself with his own words. She flicked her gaze back to him, faintly shocked.

He continued, "I have not taken into account what you must have endured thus far and personal boundaries were overstepped. There was no reason for me to attack you with accusations."

Legolas kept it simple and hoped that the feverish woman understood what he was saying. Thankfully, she did.

"It's okay, don't worry about it. I know that my arrival was not a part of the plan so I understand the suspicion. Especially with the visions too," She said quietly and with a bit of a lopsided smile to finish. He had never seen her crack a smile before.

"Your forgiveness is greatly appreciated, Melody," He said cordially, "Now we must not delay. The others have gained more ground than expected."

He snaked one arm beneath her knees and the other near her shoulder blades; making sure that her injured arm was not pinned against his chest. Legolas felt her whole body stiffen at the unnatural position. Presumably, she was still wary of his presence.

"Do not worry, I will not drop you," The Elf commented with a bit of humor and felt her forcibly relax a bit.

They began to jog to try and catch the others as the sun started to set in a mirage of citrus hues. Swirling reds and burning oranges painted the sky into a portrait. Legolas sighed internally and hoped they would have no trouble reaching the border swiftly.