Aragorn slowly made his way out of the deep ravine, his eyes keen to find some form of life within the blackened woodland. Backtracking to where the fallen horse lay he followed the hoofprints back towards Mirkwood, for surely Legolas had not been the only one to escape. For an hour he backtracked and found no life, till the marks joined those of other horses, intermixed with the faint prints of Elvan shoes. He followed several other sets of tracks, hoping to find an indication that the entire village wasn't lost to the evil force. Smoking corpses and charred Elvan bodies were the reward of his effort and his soul began to lose hope. Disheartened he headed toward the Elvan village, knowing he would only be greated with more death and destruction, but still needing to see for himself. The smouldering roots of once great trees littered the ground like rabbitholes, each still spewing acrid smoke into the already thick atmosphere. The shapes were hard to make out in the choking fumes, but the smoking embers told the future king of Gondor all he needed to. Mirkwood was gone, obliterated by the evil force of Saruman, and with it the lives of countless innocent Elves. The people were gone, the village destroyed and along with it, the ways of the Silvan Elves. With his heart heavy within his chest Aragorn turned from the charred remains and headed back to the ravine.
... Legolas whirled, his Elvan eyes squinting in the think smoke. He ran, as fast and as hard as he could away from the monster of flame behind him. It seemed to leap and power after him, consuming the members of his famly as they fell and chasing him onwards into the forrest. His lungs started to burn with the acidic air and he stumbled over something protruding from the ground. Glancing back to see what he had tripped on he saw the charred body of his father, his face still fixed in a look of horror. Scrambling to his feet he continued to flee...
Gimli ran the cloth through the stream again to soak it before running it over his friends' perspiring brow, concerned that he was now mumbling in incoherent Elvish. Sweat poured from the Elves' pale features, matting his hair to his scalp and soaking the clothes that he wore. He was obviously suffering from blood poisening, or a terrible nightmare. Hoping it was the later Gimli gently tapped his friends cheek.
" Awake Master Elf!" he called loudy into the Elves' ears. He was about to shout again when a hand grabbed his wrist.
" Fear not Gimli, the dream has passed" Legolas said plainly, as if nightmares occured every time he closed his eyes. He gingerly sat up and took the offered cup of water. Only sipping this time he quenched his thirst and began to look around him. His eyes widened as he took in his surroundings. The black of the tree stumps, the smoke in the air, the ash on the ground. Before he could ask any questions a voice echoed down from above.
" It is good to see you awake Legolas. How do you feel?" Aragorn asked as he decended the steep incline toward them.
" My head is quite sore, and my body weak, but this does not quieten my mind. I beg of you, please tell me what you have seen" the Elf pleaded. Knowing his friend would get no rest until he was told, Aragorn seated himself next to Legolas and took a deep breath.
" Mirkwood is gone Legolas. There is nothing left. I searched for others like yourself who survived, but as yet I have found nothing."
" You are certain?" Legolas whispered, his voice hitching as he spoke. Aragorn could not reply, his voice too unstable to trust. He shook his head and laid a hand on his friends shoulder.
" I am sorry Legolas." he said simply before rising and walking down to the stream. Gimli also touched his friends shoulder, the small gesture adding little comfort to the turmoil that was raging within. Gone. Destroyed. His home, his family, his life. Destroyed.
His friends gave him some privacy, busying themselves with menial tasks as he grappled with the knowledge that he was the last of his people. Anger, fear and hurt fought for his heart, each turning over new possibilities for the future. Anger meant hunting down Saruman, Fear was running away as fast as his legs could carry him, and Hurt just wanted him to curl into a ball and wish that the fire had never happened. Aragorn saw the look on his friends face and knew what he was going through.
" You mustn't delve into the depths of the despair Legolas, for if you do, the peaceful ways of your people will be lost to Middle Earth forever. Do not give into to the fear and anger, focus on the future and what it may hold for the three of us." he said. Legolas simply stared at the ashes near his feet before finding his voice.
" And what of the future? What do we do now?" he asked pitifully, still not meeting Aragorn's eyes.
" We must bury the dead and hunt down the one responsible" Gimli said with determination from his perch on a nearby rock.
" He beleives you dead Legolas. We must show him otherwise, and make him pay for this destruction." Aragorn continued. A light seemed to dimly shine from the Elve's eyes at the mention of vengence, but before he could say anything, Aragorn spoke again.
" Gimli and I shall tend to matters here while you recover your strength. As soon as you are able we head for Mordor. You must rest let your wounds heal, for you know how hard the path to Mordor is." He moved off and broke some bread by way of dinner, handing the peices out to his comrades. They ate in silence, listening to the unwelcomed nothingness of the scarred forrest. The silence was unnerving, yet none were willing to break it. For Legolas it meant one thing. Death. No animal, Elf or plant had survived. His mind once again slipped into darkess as his wounded body fought to recover.
---
The next time Legolas awoke, he was alone. His body ached less this time and he tried to stand, intent on seeing what was left of his home for himself. Willpower alone kept him on his feet as he swayed slightly but he forged on, one step at a time along the creekbed before ever slowly making his way up the ravine. The going was rough and his body protested loudly but still he proceeded, forcing his muscles to obey his mind. Step by step he continued on.
----
Aragorn and Gimli had left earlier that morning, relunctant to leave Legolas alone, but knowing they must bury the bodies before the animals returned. For hours they dug shallow graves and dragged the blackened corpses in, searching them only quickly for signs of identification. Gimli was about to start filling in one of the graves when a glimmer of light caught his eye. Stooping he examined the corpse closer, revealing a necklace with a pendant the shape of a peacock, its eye a crystal that glimmered in the light despite the ash lightly covering it. He was at a loss as to why this was important, then his mind took him back to when the Fellowship was still true. Following Legolas through Lothlorien he had noticed the carving on the Elf's quiver. A peacock with a crystal eye. This must be a member of the royal Greenleaf house! There was no other signs on the body as to who exactly it was, but Gimli removed the necklace to give to Legolas, surely he would know who's it was. The day started to wane as fatigue finally made its presence known to Gimli and Aragorn. Without a word they turned and headed back to the ravine, only to find no sign of their companion.
----
Legolas slowly made his way through the blackened moonscape, leaning heavily on what was left of the grand trees of his home. Black soot covered his hands and face, leaving smudges through his hair and on his clothes as he moved from one tree to the next. His sense of direction wavered as he glanced around him, one tree looked like the next, one boulder, just like its cousin. He had strayed from the path without realising and was now hopelessly lost within what was left of his own kingdom. Not heeding the warnings of his mind he forged on, still trying to find the village. Darkness began to fall, its inky black slowly taking what was left of his vision away from him. The stars shone overhead, something that he had never seen from within his kingdom for the great trees blotted out both the moon and the stars. A pale moon shone, shedding little light on the land below. One step after another he continued, his feet momving of their own accord till he stumbled over something, sending him sprawling. Rolling over he turned his gaze toward the object that caused his fall. A corpse lay before him, curled into a fetal ball, charred and black. He recoiled in horror, his mind refusing to accept what his eyes were telling him, until something caught his eye. A glimmer of a crystal shone in the pale moonlight, causing Legolas' heart to skip a beat. No, it couldn't be. He edged closer, gingerly reaching for the crystal and finding it attached to a pendant, a very familiar pendant. His hand went to his own pocket and withdrew a chain, an exact match for the one on the body. This was his brother, for he wore the charm of a Prince of Mirkwood. A silent tear escaped his eye as he sat back against a charred tree, his eyes never leaving what was left of his brother.
How long he remained still he didn't know. The moon slowly traced its arc across the sky, leaving a trail of starlight in its wake. A sound reached Legolas' keen hearing, the first sound of the forrest since the fire. A howl peirced the night air, a wolf was nearby, obviously after a meal in what was left of the village. Necessity overruled greif as Legolas started to dig within the earth, his hands slowly raking a hole large enough for the body. It was nearly dawn before he had finished, finally patting the mound down and laying the pendant across it. Tears flowed freely as he contemplated his effort, his body and soul now aching with terrible pain. The first rays on dawn made their way across the land as he laid next to the grave of his brother, his own pendant clutched to his breast as exhaustion claimed him.