FallenAngel1284, I’ll lighten up the story when I’ve completed yet another dark arc. If you’ve noticed, I’ve already done a ‘dark-to-light’ arc, and now I’m falling back into yet another dark arc. JadeGoddess, in case you didn’t catch what I wrote to you at the end of Chapter 18, I’m not going to make Legolas reminiscence about a lost love – being that I love the fact that Legolas is independent and single – and happy thoughts won’t surface until the story gives him a reason to be happy. Amy, I corrected the tally mistake in the last chapter – thanks! Kuroi Atropos, he’ll be awakening from unconsciousness. Raina, Chapter 2 is back on; I checked.

Sorry for leaving you on a cliffhanger, Dark Ravenette – I wasn’t going to but I couldn’t drag Chapter 18 for much longer; I was getting exhausted. Nagia, you write beautifully – I’ve read your fics before and they’re lovely in that dark, depressed way. FlameRaven, there’s a big debate online about Elves and pointy ears, and I’ll rather not get involved into it; from my belief, he does but I don’t think that should the basis for recognition of Elves. Also, Orcs were once Elves. I’m reading The Silmarillion right now, and it specifically mentions that Melkor tortured captive Elves until they turned into Orcs. PJ did it perfectly for the movie, and it’s based on this back history of Middle-earth and the Elves as well.

Shadows Amongst the Leaves

Chapter XIX

Aragorn shoved the grisly corpse off of Legolas, leaving smears of dark blood on the Elf’s shining mail. The Elf was close to unconsciousness, his eyes closed and his breathing unsteady. With his experience in the wild and with healing, Aragorn pressed his fingers against Legolas’ neck, feeling for the rhythm of his pulse. Slow and faint did it beat but sure and palpable; his friend would survive. Quickly, he raised Legolas into a sitting position and proceeded to remove the bloodstained helm and mail from the limp body. As he finished with that, laying the blackened armour aside, Éomer joined him, his grey eyes instantly widening in concern.

“Is he dead?” the Rider asked, kneeling next to the Ranger and observing the pale face of their comrade-in-arms. “He bleeds heavily. There is a lull in the assault upon the wall and from behind; perhaps this will give you time enough to mend his wounds and to take him to a safe haven.”

“Nay! He breathes still, though with a cadence not to my liking. If his healing at Rivendell has restored his body, he should be able to recover shortly.” With Éomer’s help, Aragorn promptly removed Legolas’ tunic, revealing the wounds on his shoulder and in his side. Crimson streamed steadily down the white curve of the Elf’s shoulder, welling up where the collarbone slightly protruded. As for his side, scarlet flowed and ebbed, painting the pale flesh a sickly shade of red.

Legolas lay silently against the crook of his arm, although Aragorn noticed his friend’s eyes flickering beneath the closed lids. Somewhere in that mind that not even he could fathom, his friend was thinking. Thinking perhaps of fairer times and of merrier days when Helm’s Deep was nothing more than words. Legolas did not even know of Helm’s Deep ere the Fellowship met; now, he knew much. But what was it that haunted the Elf so? He had only witnessed the closing of the last fight, and Legolas was hesitant to deliver the killing blow even when the Orc loomed over him. Could it be because of the fell truth spoken by Saruman?

Ridding his mind of these useless thoughts, Aragorn returned to his rightful position as healer. Éomer had stripped one of the fallen of their tunics, and this Isildur’s heir now cut, using Legolas’ knife. Tearing the cloth into strips, he bound the gash on the Elf’s shoulder first in an effort to staunch the steady flow of blood. The Elf grew paler by the minute, and this worried Aragorn. He checked again his pulse, surprised to find it growing stronger instead of fainter. Something was bringing Legolas out of the brink of darkness; what it was Aragorn did not know, unless it was the Elven capability to quickly heal. Already, the wound in his side was healing, and this Aragorn bound, weaving strips of cloth around the Elf’s midsection.

“He ceases to bleed,” remarked Éomer. “Is this the mettle of Elves?”

“It is,” said Aragorn as he finished his task and slipped Legolas’ tunic and mail back onto the Elf’s lithe frame. “For that, I am glad. But he does not wake, either out of pain or loss of blood. His shoulder still bleeds, though the binding should suffice. What will become of him when our enemies seek to overtake us?”

“We cannot do much more. It is difficult to take him to the citadel from this distance. We cannot stand guard over him, lest we incur wrath from him and die in the attempt to shield him. We cannot fight Orcs and protect a defenseless warrior at the same time, Aragorn!”

The Ranger did not reply. He looked over to his left, and beheld Gimli’s expression of distress and concern. “Gimli...”

“Legolas! Can he not awake? Legolas, friend, you cannot sleep here!”

__________________

He had slain his enemies, former Elves. Confused and distraught over his wavering decisions, Legolas turned from the dark path before him and ran, seeking his father. Where was Thranduil, the one who sired him? Orcs were once Elves, twisted by the malice of Melkor who sought to mangle Ilúvatar’s beloved people. He was one of those people, one of the fair race. Highborn with a noble upbringing, Legolas knew who and what he was. But when it came to the creatures that he slew in desperation, he had no answers to his consistent inner battle.

Orcs were Elves in their former lives. He had finished off their lives with his blade, saving his own and dealing death and judgment to them once again. Was that mercy in the guise of murder? However, those were the same as his tormentors – why should he feel this guilt?

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I’m not finished yet, but perhaps this will temporarily sate your appetite for more. I really needed my break, and getting back into the story isn’t that easy. Not to mention that I’m rewriting my own original story as well, added in with school and stuff. ^^;;; At least you can see which direction I’m taking. While I wrote this much, I felt as if my brain was drugged. Bleh…