The stuff drenched him until he no longer knew where the grime ended and he began. So long as he fought, he lived. Nock, draw, release. He glanced up, a foul darkness covered the sky where the sun should be or had blood marred his vision? Unsheathe, parry, thrust - his blade found its way home again and again, until he no longer cared about the hour, nor feared to count himself among the dead.
Resheathe. He hung his head for a moment. Exhausted. Numb. Did Aragorn yet live? Bitter tears stung the back of his closed lids. He did not know. He needed to tell him he understood. Weary. Tired. All those man-words that never before made sense, suddenly took hold of his heart.
A fierce battle cry rang out across the valley.
Legolas shook himself. "Ada?" Yet Thranduil was leagues away. Legolas felt the boughs of the Green Wood bend at the first assault; knew his father would not leave their people in this time of need.
Again, he heard the familiar voice, commanding, "Do not despair!" it seemed he would not leave Legolas either.
"Ada!" The image of the King faded.
No time -- Legolas faced their foe again. Nock, draw, release...
He felt renewed.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.