Healing: Part IV
by Narevane
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Legolas wished there was something he could do to help the shining spirit that had come to his aid. But all he could do was pray. A few lines from of an old prayer welled out of him: "Nulla lante, ananta kala uutyelma, Kala tere lye loo, Lle naa yassen lye, voro anta, Sinya poldore." .

Elrond was careful to remain between Legolas and the spirit. He would not leave here without Legolas.

Legolas wished he had his bow, so that he could join the fight. He gasped as light built around his hands, and he found himself holding a silver bow and a quiver of silver arrows that glowed like mithril. He fit an arrow to the bow, which was perfectly balanced, and aimed at the dark spirit. When the shining silver spirit was knocked back, he let fly the arrow, which struck about where an eye would be in the black hooded head, knocking the spirit to the ground.

Elrond looked at Legolas. He was surprised to see the youngster holding a bow and arrows. He was happy to see the prince still willing to fight, tapping into his own bright spirit to manifest the weapons, however unknowingly.

The dark spirit got to its feet, hissing as he pulled the arrow free, and it vanished from his hand like smoke. "Give up, boy! You cannot escape!"

"I’d rather die than be a slave to evil!" Legolas shouted bravely.

"Then die, whelp!" The dark spirit lunged at the golden cord, cutting through it with his black sword.

Elrond screamed, "NO!" and dove for the withering cord, grabbing it with one hand as Legolas screamed. At the same time, Elrond threw his sword like a spear, spitting the dark spirit in the chest. Laughing, the dark one vanished, the sword falling to the ground, then vanishing.

Elrond looked at Legolas, who was looking at him with fearful eyes. He’d fallen to his knees, hands over his heart. Elrond wrapped the golden cord around his hand. It was warm and pulsed faintly. Elrond walked over to Legolas and grasped his arms, raising him to his feet.

"What did he do? What is this place and how did I get here? Who are you?" Legolas asked.

"I am Elrond, Master of Imladris. Your father sent for me after you were injured by an orc arrow. This place…is a between place, neither the world of the living nor that of the dead. As for what he did…he has cut the cord between your spirit and your body. Without it, you may not be able to return."

"But you hold it. Could I not go back with you?"

"Maybe. But…there is another way, one which will ensure you will live."

"What way is that, sir?"

"I can anchor your life-force to mine. It will bond you to me, but the bond will fade as your own bond to your body is reestablished. I do not know what effect this bond will have on us in the real world I the meantime, however."

"I have no wish to die now, Master Elrond. And though I be bound to you forevermore, better that than death."

Elrond smiled. "You are indeed as brave as your brothers said."

"What must I do?"

"Nothing." Elrond tilted Legolas’ face to his and kissed him, gently, warmly, lovingly. He felt Legolas’ arms go around his neck. Their life-force blended and merged.

Legolas gasped. Elrond held him up. "Oh!" Legolas said, clutching Elrond’s arms.

Elrond laughed. "Have you never been kissed, then, young Green Leaf?"

"N.not like that."

"Time to go home, Legolas. Your family is very worried about you."

"How do we get back there?"

"Close your eyes, and I will guide you."

Legolas closed his eyes, and Elrond started to send them back to their bodies. At the last instant, he heard a scream, and the dark one lunged at Legolas. Elrond jerked them away, found himself back in the real world, Legolas thrashing under his hands. Elrond dared not release his hold. He looked at Thranduil. "Call him! Now! He needs to hear your voice!"

Thranduil grasped Legolas’ hand and placed a hand over his heart. "Legolas! Legolas, come back to us! Please, my son! Return to the Light!"

Legolas didn’t respond. "Again!" Elrond ordered. He motioned the rest of the family to gather close.

Legolas’ brothers and sisters gathered around, each of them laying a hand on Legolas and calling softly to him, speaking of their love for him and calling for him to return to them.

Legolas moaned, began to shift restlessly. Elrond called to him in Eldarin. They could see the blackness of the poison receeding even as they watched. Legolas began to fight wildly, thrashing uncontrollably, until he gave a wild, unearthly scream, an evil sound the likes of which had never come from an elven throat before, as the last of the evil poison left him. Then he was still, not even breathing.

Thranduil pulled his son into his arms. Face buried in Legolas’ long golden hair, which he had always compared to the sun on it’s most glorious day, he wept. His other children all knelt around the bed, tears streaming down their faces.

"Legolas!" Thranduil cried, grieving.

Elrond bowed his head, still holding Legolas’ hand. "I’m sorry," he whispered, stunned that he had failed. He laid Legolas’ hand on the bed and rose, to leave the family to their grief.


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