Tears of a Soul
A Lord of the Rings story by Deana Lisi
Summary: A moment of confusion and desperation threatens to tragically end the loyal friendship of Legolas and Aragorn…as well as the Elf's life.
Hey everyone! Here is the story that I gave a preview for in 'The Sound of Silence'. I had no idea that everyone was gonna flip out the way that they did, LOL! Here it is, for everyone who yelled at me to hurry! ;) I must give credit where credit is due; my good friend Karri began this story before passing it along to me. Hannon le, mellon-nin, I had lots and lots of fun with it! :)
Disclaimer: I don't own Legolas, (darn!) Aragorn, or anyone else from LOTR.
Aragorn studied the small party of hooded elves as they sauntered nearer to his hiding place. Sighing, he sank deeper into the shadows of the tall trees. There was something 'wrong' about the elves, but the ranger couldn't figure out exactly what. Their cloaks were the gray of the Galadhrim—a unusual sight outside of Lothlorien—but that didn't feel like the cause for the foreboding tickle in the hairs on the back of his neck. The abrupt shiver down his spine might be the result of the intruder that he suddenly sensed behind him, but Aragorn decided that wasn't it either as he whipped around and raised his sword to block his assailant's incoming blow. With a start, he abruptly realized the problem…they weren't elves.
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Legolas crouched upon the high branch of a birch tree, searching the dark night for some indication that he had not lost the disguised orc party that he'd tracked to the borders of Rivendell. His keen elven senses found nothing but the songs of nature, causing Legolas to sigh as he shifted to rest against the massive trunk of the ancient tree. His limbs felt heavy with weariness, which irked him almost as much as losing the orcs. Being physically worn was not something that an elf often felt, but Legolas had tracked this particular band of orcs at a pace that challenged even an elf's limits, and so, his eyes half-lidded, he attempted a moment's rest…but it did not come easily.
The misery that this band of orcs had wrought remained too near. They had struck deep within his father's domain, deeper than any had previously dared strike. In doing so, they had gravely wounded many unsuspecting elves, among who were several old and dear friends of Legolas. He mourned their souls, certainly departed for the Halls of Mandos days ago, while he'd relentlessly sought an opportunity to avenge them.
Giving up his vain attempt at rest, Legolas shifted again, ready to spring off his branch—if only he could choose a direction in which to leap. He scowled, angry with himself for losing his prey, but relief washed over him a moment later when the sounds of a distant struggle reached his ears. Certain that his missing orcs had found some hapless soul to pounce upon, the elf leapt forward.
Stopping just within sight of the fray, Legolas notched an arrow, but didn't fire. He counted a dozen orcs; no matter how vengeful, Legolas was not foolhardy. He wouldn't seek open combat when stealth would serve him better. Bracing himself against the tree trunk, he searched for a target.
The elf's gaze passed quickly over the waylaid victim, refusing to allow the poor creature's plight to tempt him into recklessness. Legolas' experience with orcs told him that, generally, those in the rear of the pack would be precluded from the tussle. Legolas hoped that they would tire of watching the others have all the fun and wander far enough away for their demise to go unnoticed by the rest. Orcs tended to waste little time searching for missing companions—unless, of course, they'd stolen away some sort of treasure.
The elf's focus slipped when a half-seen movement triggered a sense of familiarity. His eyes snapped back to the orcs' victim and it took less than a heartbeat for Legolas to recognize the hooded form. Aragorn!
With extreme difficulty, Legolas managed to resist the overwhelming urge to dive headlong into the fight. Drawing back his bowstring, he still did not fire, surprised to see that the orcs seemed intent on subduing Aragorn rather than killing him outright. For whatever reason, Legolas couldn't guess; they'd certainly shown no such restraint with their elf victims. Still, if that were truly the case, the odds favored rescuing his friend later, rather than revealing himself at the moment; if the human was badly hurt, Legolas would only serve to get them both killed if he tried to save him now.
Sighing, Legolas kept his arrow aimed, should the orc's intentions suddenly change.
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Blocking an incoming blow, Aragorn grunted at the vibration that traveled down his sword and into his forearms. The mild pain quickly blended with the weariness of his limbs, tempting him to drop the weapon, but Aragorn twisted to block another blow instead. To his delight, he managed cut a deep slash into the chest of one his attackers. The orc fell, but that didn't slow the others. Unlike himself, the orcs showed no sign of tiring, yet they had not gone in for the kill, either—a point that was not lost on the Ranger. They clearly desired to take him alive; he couldn't guess at the reason, nor did he really wish to learn.
Twisting and ducking simultaneously, Aragorn evaded two more blows, but the movement threw him off balance. Even as he spared a second to right himself, the Ranger knew that the error had cost him dearly. He barely caught sight of a swiftly approaching club in time to twist around in the opposite direction, but the move wasn't quite quick enough. The blow, though glancing, caught him solidly enough to send him reeling into unconsciousness.
Legolas winced as Aragorn fell, but he felt some measure of relief as well. Watching his friend get pummeled had been excruciatingly difficult, but now that the ranger was down, the elf hoped that there would be no more blows. Fear that they might not be finished with his friend tempted him toward carelessness, but Legolas successfully battled it. Remaining silent and alert in the tree, he kept his arrow ready as he watched and waited.
The orcs quickly rewarded his patience.
Peeling his eyes away from Aragorn as the ranger was hastily bound to the base of a tree, Legolas noticed that four solitary orcs had left the main party and wandered off in different directions. Legolas quickly raised his bow and each orc fell silently, the swoosh of his arrows cloaked by the suddenly rising wind.
As the last of the four fell dead, the elf's gaze shifted back to Aragorn. Legolas knew that he needed to move quickly, but the thought of letting the human out of his sight, even for a moment, made him hesitate.
Unable to hold back a sigh, Legolas worried for his friend's safety.