Ashes of the Mind.
Gimli and Aragorn returned from their day of toiling to find the place where they had camped empty. Legolas was not to be seen in the darkened landscape, though somehow this did not surprise Aragorn in the slightest.
" He has gone in search of his people" he muttered simply as he tried to find the tracks their friend had left previously. He cursed the Elvan lightfootedness as he searched for the footfalls, his eyes keen on the ashes of the ground. Soon he found some, those that were undoubtable their comrade as they appeared erratic and clumsy. Gimli lit a torch to word off the inpending nightfall as they again made their way up the steep slopes of the ravine. Tired as they were they forged on, following the tracks from one fallen tree to another. Before long Aragorn spotted a shape in the distance. The pale moon that now shone picked up a shimmer of white against the backdrop of black, as the came closer they saw the white was on the ground. ' Was he dead?' they thought, their minds asking the questions their hearts could not. The closer they came the more a sense of dread filled them. Just as before he was unmoving, though this time his elven eyes lay open, glazed over and still. Gimli noticed a small mound of earth between themselves and Legolas, with something faintly glittering upon its earth top. Stooping he picked the object up, pulling the pendants out of his pocket to compare them. They were almost an exact match, the original was larger and more ornate, yet the smaller looked as though it was something given to an heir, a son perhaps. Aragorn rolled over the once again unconscious Elf, releived to find his heart still beating, but unnerved by the unseeing eyes. He remembered from the days of the Fellowship that Legolas had slept with his eyes open, closing them only when in an unnatural sleep, but this was different, his eyes were dull and glazed instead of bright. Something had crushed the Elves' spirit beyond imagine. Aragorn glanced over at Gimli who was hunched over what appeared to be a hand-dug grave. He had two pendants in his hand, each looking very much like the other. It was then that he noticed a smiliar pendant tightly clutched within Legolas' hand. Gently he prized the fingers open, removing the sparking charm and holding it out to Gimli.
" What do you make of this?" he asked, was this some sort of connection between the three? Surely there was, for one would not find three such similar charms without co-incidence.
" They look to me, to be the crest of a family. By the jewel in the eye I was hasten to add a Royal family." Gimli sighed. " It would appear that Legolas found his brother, while I buried his father early this day." He bowed his head, so much horror was hard for the Dwarf to bear.
" It is true then, my family and home are gone" a weak voice whispered. Both Aragorn and Gimli turned to see Legolas awake once more, his eyes not glazed any more but still dull. His fighting spirit seemed to have been charred like the remains of his family and his body still weak from his escape. He seemed defeated and unwilling to live, wanting to curl up and die along with the rest of his people. Aragorn had seen this in him the previous evening.
" Come Legolas, let us go back to camp and rest. Tomorrow we leave for Mordor if you are able. Saruman must face the wrath of the Mirkwood Elves, and you are the one to bring it to him. Come, can you walk?" Aragorn pressed, willing the fire to once again ignite in his friends eyes. A spark flickered there, dim at first then growing brighter. Legolas grasped the arm of his friend and pulled himself to his knees, determined to stand on his feet and battle the evil. He wavered slightly, gripping Aragorn's arm tightly as his balance steadied. He raised his head and looked into the eyes of the two best friends he had ever known.
" Let us make the evil that has caused such death taste what it is like to die. He shall die for the Elves of Mirkwood!" he said, courage and fire once again starting to course through his veins. Together they headed away from the place back to the creekbed for the night. Gimli pressed the two pendants into his friends hands as the ate, Legolas only nodding before adding them to his own within his breast pocket.
---
It was actually two days before the company set out again, Aragorn insisting they did not leave until Legolas was able to manage without aid. During that time Gimli and Aragorn had buried the rest of the dead that they could find, while Legolas sharpened his blades. His bow had been crushed in the fall, as had his quiver and arrows, but his blades had survived, although slightly dented. He moulded them back into shape using rocks and heat and now knelt by the stream using a wet stone to make the edge razor sharp. By dawn on the third day the trio left the creekbed for the last time, taking the slightly longer way out of the ravine to avoid smelling what was left of the dead horse. They travelled far that day, frequently stopping so Legolas could rest, but setting a pace that would have them arrive at Mordor sooner rather than later.
---
Several days into their journey Aragorn pointed to a river in the distance.
" Alas the river Celduin meets the Carnen!" Aragorn shouted for joy. The fire had burnt the Mirkwood forrest to the ground and he was eager to be away from the black remains. " We shall camp there tonight, in the green grasses of its shores, for I am eager to be rid of this evil blackness"
Legolas seemed to be eager as well, his dull eyes loosing their darkness as the days grew on. His body grew stronger as did his detemination. Saruman would pay for what he had done to his people. His father, brother and all his friends shall be avenged! His step lightened as they neared the river, Legolas also wishing to be far from the blackness that remained of his home. Just as they were about to set up camp for the evening a sound caught the Elves' keen hearing. He lifted his head and gazed into the now green surroundings, his eyes peircing the shadows.
" Something is near, something evil. Whether it be orcs or Uruk-hai I cannot tell. But they are searching for something" he said, his eyes still searching. It did not take long for the group of fearsome creatures to find their location, despite all they did to disappear into the evening darkness. Blades were drawn as the pack grew near, the stench of the foul creatures preceeding them. Legolas wrinkled his nose in digust at the festering aroma, twirling his blade a few times in readiness before the monsters decended upon them. Like a howling wind they arrived, black blades swinging, sheilds deflecting the blows from the three companions. Steel clashed with armour, blades clanked upon sheilds, each force trying to outwit and outfight the other. The Urak-Hai had been searching for any survivors of Saruman's fire, and here they had found one. Only one from an entire race, and they were determined to see that he did not escape this battle alive.
Blood pounded through Legolas' ears, making the sensitive lobes almost painful. His heart hammered as flashes of his family preceeded each arc of his blade. 'For my father, for my mother, for my brothers' his mind chanted over and over. The weapon found its intended target over and over, his injury not hindering his movements or his ability and slowly the battle seemed to favour that of good.
Aragorn and Gimli more than held their own against their attackers, galantly defending each other while striking out at the enemy. The black monsters started to dwindle, leaving none to fill their places as the scene of death grew. Blood covered both of them, yet none of their own was spilt, for the monsters seemed to focus upon Legolas. Aragorn's keen mind registered that they were indeed a scouting party sent to see if the destruction of Mirkwood had been complete, and upon finding the lone Elf, were keen to make him join the dead of his family. The Elf had creatures all around him, circling their prey as a hawk does a rabbit. Only five Urak-Hai remained and they all aimed their attacks their friend.
---
Legolas was more than capable of taking on such a group but even such, Aragorn and Gimli went to his aid. Together they fought their way to stand by his side, to fight as a team. They fought that way for a time, three galant warriors fending off five evil monsters, until the Urak-Hai changed tactics. They managed to draw Gimli and Aragorn away from the Elf, forcing their way between him and his comrades. No hint of fear was in his eyes as he faced them square, blade poised to make its next strike. He waited for them to attack first, coming at him together and the other three faced his two companions. He dodged, parried and deflected the blows, waiting for them to make a mistake to take advantage of. There was no point going on the offensive when one was outnumbered so he waited, his weight light and balanced, his eyes sharp and his mind lightning fast. At last one seemed slightly off-balance after a strike and Legolas took full advantage. He deflected the other blade and span, swinging his blade down to gain momentum until it connected with the flesh of the creature. Black blood gushed from the wound, coating his blade and hands as he withdrew his weapon. He turned to face his last opponent and leader of the Urak-Hai, the light steel of his weapon now almost black as he held it ready. The creature struck out towards him, swinging his own sword in an arc aimed for Legolas' neck. He ducked swiftly before once again springing up and using his blade to force the enemy into shifting its heavy bulk just behind its centre of balance. The step back was all Legolas needed to take the offensive. He lunged toward the black monster, his elvan blade hitting its sheild before beging thrust again forward. This time it connected with its target, impacting into its side with Legolas' full strength and weight behind it. The blade sank deep and the creature faltered, dropping its own sword and sheild as it fell to the ground. He knelt beside the dying enemy and whispered something in Elvish in its ear, rising, and raising his blade again.
---
Aragorn and Gimli had just finished with their attackers to see the scene unravel before them. Legolas was knelling next to what seemed to have been the leader of Urak-Hai, his face was smeared with black blood and it coated his arms and clothes. He rose, withdrew his weapon from the side of the slowly dying enemy, and brought it swiftly down across its neck. The was a sickening crunch as the blade met bone, seperating the head from a still withering body. He stood there for a moment before turning and meeting the eyes of his comrades. A look of defiance crossed between them before he walked towards the river and began cleaning himself up. Gimli and Aragorn exchanged a worried look before following him, eager to rid themselves of the goo the covered them.
Not a word was spoken as they bathed and cleaned their clothes in the moonlight. Gimli was still in shock after witnessing the brutal event and Aragorn tried to reason with himself as to their friends motive. He knew Legolas was angry and upset, eager to make someone pay for the grief that was eating him inside, and yet senseless violence was not acceptable, no matter the circumstances. He resolved to approach his friend in the morning, not to consol him, or condone him, but to be there when he knew the tears would come. He had faced the same situation in his own past, his mind clouded by hatred and anger, only to find more greif and remorse when the battle had ended.
---
Legolas had left as soon as he had finished bathing to scout the surrounding area for more Urak-Hai. Finding none he returned to the river and started a fire to dry their heavy outer clothes. Aragorn passed some waybread between them, each member lost in their own thoughts as they ate. Finally weariness overtook them and they started to drift into the rhelm of sleep, the Human and Dwarf dreamt of when times were good within the Fellowship, fighting side by side, the constant need for the hobbits to eat, and the also constant friendly banter between the Elf and the Dwarf. Legolas however let his eyes glaze over and his mind turned back to the recent battle. Over and over he saw his blade decend upon the neck of his opponent. His dreams taunted him, replaying the scene that would be forever etched into his mind, while constantly changing it. The creature on the ground changed into Saruman, then Sauron and the cave-troll of Moria, until his subconscious started to seek revenge for the turmoil inflicted upon it. He saw himself standing over Gimli, Frodo and Gandalf, his brothers and finally his father, and still the blade decended. He shifted and mumbled in his sleep, his brow furrowing with emotion as he warred with his dreams. Aragorn awoke at the mumbling, rising and going over to where his friend lay beside a tree. He had a fair idea of what was going through the Elves' head, of the images and nightmares he would be facing. Silently he placed his hand on Legolas' shoulder, gently shaking the Elf till he responded. The glazed look in his eyes lifted as he awoke, his gaze speaking volumes as he thanked Aragorn in Elvish. Aragorn simply nodded and suggested the Legolas keep watch in case the Urak-Hai sent more troups. Both knew it was a futile gesture so soon after the battle, yet Legolas knew the double meaning. Slowly he rose, shaking off the last of the nightmare and began to watch over the campsite. For a while at least, he would be free of the dreams, until he was forced to sleep again.