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Post by The One and Only Skande on Feb 25, 2005 15:02:02 GMT -5
-x- Author's Name: The One and Only Skande Email: skande@myway.com Submission Title: The Fall of a Hero Rating: PG Genre: Angst, Drama Summary: A Member of the Fellowship of the Ring is killed at the Battle of the Black Gate. Disclaimer: I wrote it, but I don't own it. Dagor Bragollach...... Nirnaeth Arnoediad -x- Review Fall of a Hero here
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Post by The One and Only Skande on Feb 25, 2005 15:03:00 GMT -5
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The black gates creaked slowly open. Row upon row of orcs poured forth, enveloping the small army like a floodgate unleashed. Legolas shifted his grip on his long white knives as he turned his head to survey their dire position. They were completely surrounded. Sneering, distorted faces glared back at the opposing army as the orcs waited, holding back for an unknown reason. Soon they would sweep down upon the smaller army, a mixture of brave soldiers gathered to fight from across Middle Earth, and destroy them.
Aragorn stood beside the elf prince, his sword gripped tightly in both hands, his face an unreadable, expressionless mask. Aragorn sensed Legolas' gaze and turned slightly. Their eyes met and locked, and Legolas knew in that moment, that this chance was all Aragorn had left, and he was ready and expecting to die taking it.
Aragorn also saw in his friend's eyes the same jaded ice of a warrior who knew that this would be his last battle. But he also saw something more. A bond of friendship strengthened by the years. An unbreakable tie formed through shadow and light, joy and hardship. They were inseparable, even in death. And now Legolas offered this truth, for what comfort it held, whole- heartedly.
It was in this moment that Aragorn realized how much he had counted on Legolas' support and friendship through the journey that had led them onwards on this road. The quiet, steadfast loyalty that had always been there, unquestioningly, for him to fall back on when things turned rough. And he realized, as they stood together there at the end of all things, what he needed to say.
"Thank you my friend." Aragorn smiled softly.
Legolas' bright blue eyes shone warmly as he nodded and smiled slightly in acknowledgment.
Aragorn turned- to Gandalf, Eomer, the hobbits, and all those that had fought so bravely beside him on the Pellenor fields.
"For Frodo..." He whispered. And then he turned and ran forward to meet the enemy, sword raised. He knew his friends were behind him as he led the charge, and this gave him strength. Letting forth a battle cry for all to hear, he brought hs sword down into the first orc.
And the battle began.
For hours the battle raged, strength matched against strength, will matched against will. Aragorn had no choice but to lock his mind into a cold, detached warrior's haze, spinning, slashing, ducking and thrusting. He could not let his mind dwell on the death and pain as he watched those around him, soldiers of Gondor and Rohan, fall beneath the cruel scimitars of the orcs. All there was was here and now, Frodo and the ring, and giving the brave hobbit this one last chance to succeed and decide the fate of Middle Earth.
The morale of the troops was boosted dramatically with the appearance of the eagles, and the remainder of the fellowship attacked once more with a renewed vengeance.
But now Aragorn could feel his strength weakening. He could feel the rumble of the earth shaking beneath his feet as the giant troll approached him from behind. But he could not turn away from the enemies pressing in on him from all sides. If this was to be the end, it would be an end to be remembered, and he spun and struck with a strength and determination fed by desperation.
He was thrown to the ground. He lay stunned for a moment, the air knocked painfully from his body. He turned his head slowly. The troll stood over him, sword raised. The huge creature struck. Anduril came up to block the blow and weakly throw it aside. The troll's foot came down on his chest, slowly becoming heavier and heavier. The world spun crazily as he felt his ribs strain under the weight. He could hear a cry- it was his own name, and he turned towards the sound. Legolas.
The elf's face was pale with fear and horror, and he was spinning and slashing with his blades wildly as he fought his way towards his trapped friend.
It all happened so fast. Legolas sprang forward. His blades caught the troll in the chest. The huge creature stumbled backwards and away from Aragorn with an enraged cry as it turned upon the elf prince.
Aragorn tried to get to his feet, but had not the strength. He could only look on in horror as the troll swung wildly at Legolas. A sickening feeling came to Aragorn that he was watching the same thing that had happened in Moria all over again: Legolas ducking and dodging as the cave troll swung the heavy chain angrily at the elf. But this time, something told him the outcome would be different.
Quicker than sight, Legolas pulled his bow from his back and launched double arrows into the troll's unprotected throat. The creature staggered, groaned, and then fell heavily to the gorund. Aragorn sighed in relief- Too soon.
He dimly heard the twang of a heavy bowstring, the sickening whistle as a long black arrow sliced through the death-laden air of the battle, and then the terrible, resounding thud as it found it's mark in flesh.
Legolas' face went blank and pale. He numbly looked down at the long projectile protruding from his chest. Then his eyes were raised again, and elf and man locked gazes. Aragorn's heart nearly stopped beating. This could not be the end. It could not be.
But he knew deep inside that it was, as the Mirkwood prince fell to his knees, and his eyes closed slowly.
"No!" Aragorn cried out in horror. He struggled to his feet, sword gripped tightly. He gave an angered, desperate cry, cutting down all who stood in his path as he fought his way towards Legolas.
He dropped to his knees beside his friend, his eyes wide in horror and disbelief. "Legolas, no!" Aragorn cried as he tearfully pulled the elf into his arms. Blood poured from the horrendous chest wound, staining Aragorn's tunic. With every weakened throb of Legolas' heart, his life blood ebbed slowly away.
The elf's eyes opened weakly as he looked up at his friend. "Aragorn-" He swallowed as his pain-glazed eyes met Aragorn's own. He gently reached up a hand to touch Aragorn's pale face, down which tears now freely streamed. "Do not weep my friend," He entreated softly, obviously with much effort. "It is right- That we should be together. Here at the end of all things..." Legolas smiled sadly.
Aragorn's shoulders shook with unrestrained sorrow as he clasped Legolas' hand in his own like he would never let it go. And indeed, he did not wish to. He could not so easily turn away from his friend of so many years- his brother.
"Forgive me my friend-" He began sorrowfully, his voice broken with grief.
"There is nothing to forgive mellon-nin- this was meant to be. It would not have been right any other way. Rise now to claim your rightful throne, and remember our friendship with joy, and not with heartache."
Aragorn nodded promisingly, too distraught with grief to speak.
Legolas smiled weakly once more, his eyes content and peaceful as he accepted his fate, and then his eyes closed forever, as the light of the eldar flickered within him, and was extinguished.
Aragorn wept openly as he never had before, as he knelt in the dirt and brutality before the gates of Mordor, his friend's lifeless body cradled in his arms. He sorrowfully pressed his forehead to the pale brow of the elf as tears fell like rain. Who could have foreseen that it would end like this?
Aragorn looked up slowly as the enemy army cowered in fear, tremors shook the earth, and the fiery mountain exploded into brilliant bursts of flame and sulfur, his heart feeling as if it had been ripped brutally in two. As if a vital piece was missing that could never be replaced. The army cheered and raised their swords as the dark tower fell.
The war had come to an end. The ring had been destroyed.
But there were those that did not shout with joy. There were those who hung their heads in sorrow and immeasurable grief. There were those who openly wept for the brave elven prince who had fallen, never to rise again. For a glimmering ray of sunlight faded from a darkened world. For a friend and for a brother.
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The End
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