Post by Admin on Jan 2, 2021 17:23:16 GMT
Author: M.B. Anchor
Ranking: 2nd place
Summary: Protection has its cost. The stewards’ sons know this.
Rated T for violence
The stone’s cold edges pricked his ear as he pressed it against the wall. He strained to hear the frantic happenings in the healing ward. Anything to give him hope, or worse, confirm his fears. Yet, all he heard were a few indiscernible murmurs. The elf’s heart sank.
With a growl, he slammed his fist against the wall. Regal shoulders shook as silent sobs wracked his chest. He felt utterly helpless. His knees buckled, and the prince slumped against the wall. Legolas buried his golden head in his hands.
A second later, he pulled them away as if they stung. Bleary eyes stared with revulsion at the crimson that still coated his hands. It made him want to gag. The blood only reminded him of the young life that was draining away on the other side of the wall, and how he had failed to stop it.
~PC~
The sun hung low in the afternoon sky. A youth whistled as he picked his way through the forest. His heavy hunting boots barely made a sound on the leaf strewn ground. He ended his tune when he entered a small camp. In the middle of the camp sat a simmering fire and an elf expertly carving steaks from a hunk of venison.
“Those look good!” The young man commented, coming to a halt beside his blond companion.
“Hannon le,” Legolas paused and looked up at the towering youth above him. “Did you catch anything?”
Broad shoulders shrugged. He held up his catch. “Only two conies,” Elboron huffed. “Nothing compared to the buck I shot yesterday.”
The prince smiled at the glum face. “Never mind. I’m sure you’ll shoot another one before our trip ends.” He motioned to the basket beside him with his elbow. “Here, put them in here. We will clean them and have them tomorrow for our midday meal.”
Elboron nodded and placed the conies in the basket. He brushed a few stray strawberry blond locks from his face, and surveyed the large pieces of venison that Legolas cut. “When will they be ready?”
“Not for another half hour.” Legolas replied. A mischievous twinkle sparkled in his sapphire eyes, “That is, unless you would like to eat them raw?”
The human made a face. “Ugh! No, no, I’m good. I’d rather eat Nana’s cooking than eat those things raw.
“Suit yourself,” laughed the elf.
Elboron shook his head in mock exasperation. “I’m going to go have a look around while the steaks cook,” announced the youth as he tightened his quiver strap.
Legolas sobered. Even though they had had peace for twenty years, the wilderness still posed its dangers in the forms of wild beasts and the occasional outlaws. “Do you want me to come with you?”
“No, I can manage.”
“Are you sure?”
Elboron rolled his eyes good naturedly. “Yes, Legolas. I’m not a child anymore. I can handle it.”
The prince sighed. Elboron was right. He was seventeen, almost a man by human standards. Legolas couldn’t coddle him forever. “Very well.”
“Don’t worry,” the youth chuckled, “I’ll be fine.”
“You better be!” responded the elf. “I promised your parents I’d bring you back without a scratch.”
The youth scowled, “Again, I’m not a child!”
“You’re considered an infant by elven standards.”
“Valar, not this argument again,” Elboron groaned. “I’m leaving now.” He crossed over to his bed roll where his sheathed sword lay. Picking it up, the young man bounded into the woods.
“Call for me if you require assistance!” Legolas yelled after the fleeting figure.
Elboron waved his hand in acknowledgement and disappeared into the forest.
The elf watched him a with a sigh. “Humans. Why do they grow up so fast?”
~PC~
Elboron threaded between the trees. The weeds and brush swept against his legs, but not hard enough to snag on the green ranger cloak he wore. He clasped his bow firmly, ready to use it at a moment’s notice. Grey eyes scanned the landscape for anything out of the ordinary. The youth kept his ears attuned to sounds around him. Yet, to his satisfaction there were no signs of danger.
A creek bubbled happily up ahead. Exiting the tree line, the human ambled over to the sandy bank and knelt down. The water glistened in the sunlight. It looked cool and inviting, and he realized his throat was parched. Thick hands dipped into the flowing water. Cupping them, he brought them to his lips and drank deeply. He sighed contently, “That’s good.”
Suddenly, a shrill scream split the air. Elboron’s head shot up. The large brush across the creek rustled as someone made their way through them.
In an instant, the youth was on his feet with an arrow fitted to his bow. He zeroed in on the moving bushes in front of him. To his shock, a small girl ran out of them. The brown haired girl looked no older than seven. She was dirty, her dress was ripped, and tears ran down her cheeks. Terror dominated her countenance. Chocolate brown eyes widened into saucers when she spotted Elboron. She opened her mouth to let out another scream.
Elboron quickly lowered his weapon and held out a pacifying hand. “Wait! Shhh...it’s all right. I’m not going to hurt you. I swear,” he soothed.
The girl stood still, trembling. Fear shone in her eyes.
The youth splashed across the stream as non-threateningly as possible. “Hey there. It’s all right,” Elboron crooned, approaching her. “I’m a friend. I mean you no harm.”
He reached out to comfort her, but she flinched away from his touch. “Oh, I’m sorry,” the young man stammered. He withdrew his outstretched hand. “There, there, I won’t touch you then.” Elboron bent down, concerned etched deeply on his brow. “Can you tell me what’s wrong, little one? Why were you running?”
The small girl’s lip quivered and she eyed him with distrust.
It speared the youth’s heart. He murmured, “It’s okay. You can trust me. I’m here to help you.”
The child’s breathing started to hitch and fresh tears glistened in her eyes. “Th...the bad...men,” she wailed, “they...they...they took me...from my...home. I...I got...got away...but...they’re chasing me!”
A flood of emotions swept over Elboron like a tidal wave. The anguish he felt ignited into fiery anger. How dare those animals do such a thing to a little girl! At the same time, his training and instincts screamed at him the seriousness of their predicament. Whoever was chasing this girl couldn’t be far behind. They needed to get out of here before her captors found them.
Before he could make a move, his worse fears were realized. The close snapping of twigs and thundering boots signaled the imminent arrival of several men. They were out of time. Elboron had just seconds to act before the men would be upon them.
He hastily ripped the horn he wore from his belt. It was the Horn of Gondor. King Elessar had had a new one made years ago and presented to his father, who had given it to him. Elboron handed it to the girl. “Blow this with all your strength, little one. It will bring aid,” the youth gasped as he shoved her protectively behind his back. He nocked an arrow and raised his weapon at the same time eight armed men burst forth from the tree line.
“What do we have here?” sneered the leader of the group. He was a grizzled, brutish man with oily hair. A short sword gleamed in his hand.
Before the youth could answer, the Horn of Gondor sounded behind him as the girl blew it weakly. Elboron tried not to cringe at the faint call that resounded into the woods. He could only pray Legolas’ elven ears would hear it. Undeterred, the leader took a step towards the young man and child.
Elboron pulled his bowstring tighter, and barked, “Stay back!”
The brigands snickered at the youth’s audacity. The leader smiled, “I’m afraid I can’t do that, boy. You see, you have something of ours.”
Grey orbs saw red. “She belongs to no one, least of all you!” he growled. “And you’ll have to drain every drop of blood from my body before I let you take her!”
“That can be arranged,” the leader replied with a slight nod of his head.
Suddenly, Elboron’s upper chest exploded in hot, white pain as an arrow slammed into it. He cried out and the girl screamed. The youth resisted the urge to collapse. He was the only thing standing between the girl and these monsters, he had to fight. Staring beyond the stars that danced before his eyes, Elboron located the enemy archer and fired his own shot. The arrow flew true.
The kidnappers watched their comrade’s body fall to the ground. Steely faces turned on him, and the two men closest to him converged on the young warrior.
Elboron whipped out his sword. He brought it up and blocked the first man’s blow with a “clang.” Using his bow, Elboron swept the second assailant’s feet out from under him. The two blades parted and met again. The young man parried. He followed it up with stab. Elboron’s steel bit deeply into his foe’s unprotected abdomen.
Yanking the sword free, it clashed with the second assailant’s knife. The weapons locked until a hard, quick flick of his wrist sent the knife sailing through the air. As Elboron moved to deliver a fatal blow, a yell from the left caught his attention.
The youth caught the deadly blow with his bow. It snapped under the force, and the enemy’s blade cut deeply into his arm. A scream clawed at his throat, but he swallowed it. Kicking out, his heavy boot fractured the enemy’s knee cap. Elboron returned his attention back to the disarmed man just in time to receive an iron fist in the face.
He refused to stumble back from the blow, and remained in place. He had to stay between them and the child. Swinging his sword, it slashed across the man’s chest. The man fell to reveal a companion’s sword headed straight for his strawberry blond head. Elboron brought his sword back around and deflected it.
Searing agony vibrated up and down his leg as the foe on the ground embedded his steel deep into the young warrior’s thigh. Bile rose in his throat. With a half cry, half yell, he grabbed an arrow from his quiver and stabbed the blade’s owner. His right hand thrust the sword into the other man.
Elboron gritted his teeth and blinked away the haze. He uttered a war cry and parried the next sword that came at him. A quick series of moves left the brigand dead at his feet.
Two more, he thought, lifting his blade. It rang against his opponent’s. They separated and clashed again. Elboron stabbed at the man, but he avoided it. The outlaw struck back. Afraid the sword would strike the little one behind him, Elboron resisted the urge to dodge the blow. It cost him. The blade clipped his side, but it left the man open. The youth swung his sword and beheaded his enemy. One more.
His broad chest heaved painfully, while he glanced around for the leader. The growing dark patches in his eyes made it difficult to see anything more than a few feet away. He heard the tightening of a bowstring nearby. “Legolas.” The elf would finish the job.
But it was not Legolas. Elboron gasped as an arrow struck him in the chest, just below the first one. The shocked youth turned his head in the direction the projectile originated from and barely made out the leader. He had picked up his fallen comrade’s bow and was loading another arrow.
Elboron tried to raise his sword to defend himself, but his body betrayed him. His arms were suddenly too heavy. Coughs began rattling his chest, and blood filled his mouth. Tears of fear, pain, and frustration threatened to spill from his eyes as his knees buckled. He hit the ground hard, jolting his injuries. Elboron thought he could hear the girl shriek, yet he couldn’t tell due to the roaring in his ears.
The leader grinned at the battered youth. Rough, calloused hands drew back the arrow and aimed it at his heart. “You were foolish to stand in my way, boy.”
~PC~
The blood in Legolas’ veins chilled the moment he heard the Horn of Gondor. It was faint, but there was no mistaking the sound. “Elboron…”
In an instant, the elf was on his feet. Nimble fingers snatched up his weapons, and he raced into the woods. Desperate eyes looked to the trees, “Saes, help me!” he begged between breaths, “Which way did the boy go?” The trees to his left rustled and pointed with their branches. Legolas took off in that direction.
His heart hammered wildly in his chest as his feet flew across the rough ground. The prince sailed over the roots and brush that stood in his way. Only one thought drove him. He had to reach Elboron in time! He couldn’t let it end like it did the last time he had heard the horn. He couldn’t come too late, not again.
In the distance, a small stream came into view. Battle sounds pierced his ears. Legolas pumped his legs even harder. The fight scene materialized with each step that brought him closer to his charge. A young girl crouched behind Elboron and four bodies surrounded the two. The youth was fiercely engaged with a fifth man.
Legolas fitted an arrow, but he was still too far away for a shot to do any good. Just twenty-five more yards, and he would be in range. The elf’s body went numb as he helplessly watched the enemy stab Elboron in the side. “No!” he choked in dismay.
Yet, to his joy, the young man kept his footing and dispatched his foe. His joy was short lived when an arrow hit Elboron in the chest. Legolas roared with rage, and he covered the last five feet. The firstborn’s heart fell with the boy. Without hesitation, he raised his bow and fired.
The outlaw crumpled with an arrow through his eye. Legolas darted across the stream; just in time to catch Elboron in his arms. Gently, he lowered the youth onto the coarse sand.
Dim, grey eyes peered at the elf. “Leg’las,” he slurred.
“Shhh...penneth, I’m here,” murmured Legolas while he began to survey the human’s injuries, “You’re going to be okay. You’re safe now.”
Elboron lifted his head, “The…”
Easing him back down, the prince gently ordered, “Don’t move.”
“The girl,” choked the young man, “Is she...safe?”
Legolas glanced around until he located the trembling child. She stood a couple feet away and observed silently with wide eyes. Rivulets coursed down her cheeks, but she did not appear to be badly hurt. He looked back down at Elboron’s white face, “She’s here. She’s safe.”
The human nodded. Then, without warning, his body went limp.
“Elboron!” shouted the elf. His fingers rapidly sought a pulse. He breathed a sigh of relief when he felt it. It was thready, but it was there.
Legolas quelched his panic and turned his full attention to the youth’s injuries. Blood flowed from the leg wound and stained the human’s pants a dark red. The jagged cut on his arm was no better. Elboron’s side poured crimson as well.
However, it was the arrows protruding from Elboron’s chest that made Legolas want to vomit. A flashback of Boromir’s death played before his blue eyes against his will. Staring down at the youth in his arms, Legolas felt like he was witnessing the same nightmare again. “Ai Elbereth!” he moaned. Boromir had died, and now his brother’s son was dying too.
Legolas tightened his grip on the human. Elboron was not dead yet. He could still save him. The prince hurriedly shed his cloak, and began tearing it into strips. It was too dangerous to remove the arrows, for fear of nicking an artery, but he could bind the other wounds.
After five minutes, all three injuries were wrapped. He slid his arms under Elboron and lifted him bridal style. Legolas turned to the girl, “I need you to be brave and follow me, little one. Can you do that?”
The child wagged her head and stepped towards the firstborn.
“Good.” The elf cradled the injured human closer to his chest. “We must travel with great haste if he is to survive.”
~PC~
The sun’s orange and pink rays rose over the horizon when two, sweat-lathered horses galloped into Ithilien. Legolas rode hard until they entered Faramir’s courtyard. He didn’t wait for his horse to stop before he dismounted, holding Elboron in his arms.
The youth’s skin was white as snow. Blood still oozed from his wounds. The crude arrows barely moved up and down with the human’s few, shallow breaths, and the elf could barely make out a pulse.
“Help!” Legolas cried, “I need healers now!” Unwilling to wait another second, he sprinted up the stone steps. A slew of servants met him halfway up the steps. Their eyes widened with horror and many muttered words of dismay. One servant tried to take Elboron from his arms, but the prince refused to hand him over, “I said I need a healer, now get me one! Hurry!” he ordered, his voice cold as ice.
Several servants dispersed in the direction of the healing ward, while others got out of Legolas’ way. Fear gleamed in their eyes. Legolas ignored all of this, and continued to the healing ward. The young man in his arms never moved. Not even when his mother rounded a corner, gasped, and ran to him, calling his name.
Upon entering the healing ward, a wizened healer pointed them to a bed. Two others rushed around gathering instruments and supplies. The elf gently laid Elboron on the bed. Eowyn immediately knelt beside Elboron and stroked her son’s matted hair. Her pale face glanced up at the prince, “Legolas, what happened? What happened to my son?”
“He went off to scout by himself. He met a small girl being chased by brigands. Elboron protected the girl and fought them off.” The elf gulped, “He blew the Horn. I got there as fast as I could, but...I’m sorry.”
Just as Eowyn was about to respond, the healers gathered around the bed and began to work on the youth. One healer lightly directed Legolas out of the way. He watched while they examined Elboron’s wounds. Their faces fell. Their grim expressions twisted his gut, and made his breath hitch. I’m too late.
Suddenly, the door burst open and Faramir dashed into the room. His eyes searched wildly for his child. Within a second, they settled on the bed and its occupant. The sight stopped Faramir in his tracks. He swallowed hard and rushed over to his wife’s side.
Legolas observed Faramir wrap his arms around Eowyn in a comforting embrace. The steward reached out to touch Elboron, but a healer stopped him and said a few soft words. Eowyn also said something; Faramir drew her closer in response. He turned around to Legolas, but the prince turned away. He could not bear to face his friend. Not now, not when Elboron was dying. It was too much, and Legolas ran out of the room.
Yet, he did not go far. He found himself pacing the corridor outside the room. After several minutes, the elf leaned against the wall for support. All the while, he begged the Valar for a miracle.
~PC~
The hours ticked by, and Legolas remained curled against the wall. Tear tracks streaked his face, but the tears had dried a while ago. His countenance was haggard and drawn. He looked old for an immortal. The elf’s blue eyes stared listlessly at the wall across from him.
Two legs stepped in front of him. An auburn haired elf leaned over and clasped the prince’s shoulder and gently shook it, “Legolas...Legolas.”
Legolas jumped out of his reverie. The elf soothed, “It’s me, it’s Delhir.”
“What do you want?” rasped the blond elf.
“I want you to get up and take care of yourself.” Delhir tried to pull Legolas up, “Come bathe, change your clothes, and eat something.”
The prince shrugged out of the elf’s grasp. “No. Just leave me be,” he mumbled wearily.
“But…”
“I said leave me!” Legolas growled ferally, “Go!”
Delhir regarded him for a moment before he nodded and padded back down the hallway. Legolas sighed and buried his head in the folds of his arms.
Faramir found him like this when he exited the ward. “Legolas?”
The steward quickly walked over to the elf, and breathed a sigh of relief as he noticed the steady rise and fall of Legolas’ chest. Faramir knelt down beside him and placed a hand on his arm. “Legolas, mellon nin, are you well?
The firstborn glanced at the man, but quickly averted his gaze.
Faramir’s brow furrowed with concern, “Mellon, why won’t you look at me?”
“Because...because I betrayed your trust,” the elf whispered, ashamed.
“What do you mean?”
Legolas drew in a shaky breath, and looked his friend in the face. “You trusted me with your son. You trusted me to bring him back to you safe.” He hung his head, “I failed to do that.”
“This is not your fault.”
“Yes it is. I...I should’ve stopped him or gotten to him sooner.” The prince shuddered, “Now, Elboron is dying, just like Boromir did.”
Faramir exhaled, “Elboron is going to be fine, mellon nin.”
A touch of color returned to the firstborn’s grey face. “He is?”
“Yes,” the father smiled. “He faces a long recovery, but the healers say he will live.”
“Ai!” Legolas dragged a hand over his face and exhaled, “Praise the Valar.”
Faramir murmured his agreement, and sobered again. “Legolas, do not bear a burden that is not yours to bear. Neither my brother nor Elboron would want that.
“But I…”
He held up a hand, silencing the elf. “Elboron is old enough to make his own choices and live with the consequences, whatever they may be. He knows the cost of protection, as did Boromir. They chose to defend the innocent anyway. The decisions were theirs to make, and theirs alone.” Faramir squeezed Legolas’ arm, “We must make our peace with that.”
Several moments of silence passed. A mix of emotions fluctuated on Legolas’ countenance as he pondered his friend’s words. Finally, he let out a weighty breath, and let the tension drain from his body. A small smile tugged the corners of his mouth, “You’re right, mellon nin.”
The steward chuckled, “Tell that to my wife.”
The prince paled, “I dare not.”
Faramir huffed and rose to his feet. He extended an arm to the elf.
Legolas seized it and let the man haul him up. “Hannon le,” he whispered as the two friends embraced each other.
“I need to go back in and check on them.” The human clapped the elf’s shoulder, “In the meantime, go clean up and get some rest. I’ll send word when he wakes.”
He nodded reluctantly, “If you insist.”
“I do.” The father strode over to the healing ward’s door.
“Faramir!” Legolas called.
The steward stopped, “Yes?”
“You should be proud of your son. He stood like a wall between the girl and those men. None were able to get past him.”
Faramir dipped his head and smiled, “I am.”
Ranking: 2nd place
Summary: Protection has its cost. The stewards’ sons know this.
Rated T for violence
The stone’s cold edges pricked his ear as he pressed it against the wall. He strained to hear the frantic happenings in the healing ward. Anything to give him hope, or worse, confirm his fears. Yet, all he heard were a few indiscernible murmurs. The elf’s heart sank.
With a growl, he slammed his fist against the wall. Regal shoulders shook as silent sobs wracked his chest. He felt utterly helpless. His knees buckled, and the prince slumped against the wall. Legolas buried his golden head in his hands.
A second later, he pulled them away as if they stung. Bleary eyes stared with revulsion at the crimson that still coated his hands. It made him want to gag. The blood only reminded him of the young life that was draining away on the other side of the wall, and how he had failed to stop it.
~PC~
The sun hung low in the afternoon sky. A youth whistled as he picked his way through the forest. His heavy hunting boots barely made a sound on the leaf strewn ground. He ended his tune when he entered a small camp. In the middle of the camp sat a simmering fire and an elf expertly carving steaks from a hunk of venison.
“Those look good!” The young man commented, coming to a halt beside his blond companion.
“Hannon le,” Legolas paused and looked up at the towering youth above him. “Did you catch anything?”
Broad shoulders shrugged. He held up his catch. “Only two conies,” Elboron huffed. “Nothing compared to the buck I shot yesterday.”
The prince smiled at the glum face. “Never mind. I’m sure you’ll shoot another one before our trip ends.” He motioned to the basket beside him with his elbow. “Here, put them in here. We will clean them and have them tomorrow for our midday meal.”
Elboron nodded and placed the conies in the basket. He brushed a few stray strawberry blond locks from his face, and surveyed the large pieces of venison that Legolas cut. “When will they be ready?”
“Not for another half hour.” Legolas replied. A mischievous twinkle sparkled in his sapphire eyes, “That is, unless you would like to eat them raw?”
The human made a face. “Ugh! No, no, I’m good. I’d rather eat Nana’s cooking than eat those things raw.
“Suit yourself,” laughed the elf.
Elboron shook his head in mock exasperation. “I’m going to go have a look around while the steaks cook,” announced the youth as he tightened his quiver strap.
Legolas sobered. Even though they had had peace for twenty years, the wilderness still posed its dangers in the forms of wild beasts and the occasional outlaws. “Do you want me to come with you?”
“No, I can manage.”
“Are you sure?”
Elboron rolled his eyes good naturedly. “Yes, Legolas. I’m not a child anymore. I can handle it.”
The prince sighed. Elboron was right. He was seventeen, almost a man by human standards. Legolas couldn’t coddle him forever. “Very well.”
“Don’t worry,” the youth chuckled, “I’ll be fine.”
“You better be!” responded the elf. “I promised your parents I’d bring you back without a scratch.”
The youth scowled, “Again, I’m not a child!”
“You’re considered an infant by elven standards.”
“Valar, not this argument again,” Elboron groaned. “I’m leaving now.” He crossed over to his bed roll where his sheathed sword lay. Picking it up, the young man bounded into the woods.
“Call for me if you require assistance!” Legolas yelled after the fleeting figure.
Elboron waved his hand in acknowledgement and disappeared into the forest.
The elf watched him a with a sigh. “Humans. Why do they grow up so fast?”
~PC~
Elboron threaded between the trees. The weeds and brush swept against his legs, but not hard enough to snag on the green ranger cloak he wore. He clasped his bow firmly, ready to use it at a moment’s notice. Grey eyes scanned the landscape for anything out of the ordinary. The youth kept his ears attuned to sounds around him. Yet, to his satisfaction there were no signs of danger.
A creek bubbled happily up ahead. Exiting the tree line, the human ambled over to the sandy bank and knelt down. The water glistened in the sunlight. It looked cool and inviting, and he realized his throat was parched. Thick hands dipped into the flowing water. Cupping them, he brought them to his lips and drank deeply. He sighed contently, “That’s good.”
Suddenly, a shrill scream split the air. Elboron’s head shot up. The large brush across the creek rustled as someone made their way through them.
In an instant, the youth was on his feet with an arrow fitted to his bow. He zeroed in on the moving bushes in front of him. To his shock, a small girl ran out of them. The brown haired girl looked no older than seven. She was dirty, her dress was ripped, and tears ran down her cheeks. Terror dominated her countenance. Chocolate brown eyes widened into saucers when she spotted Elboron. She opened her mouth to let out another scream.
Elboron quickly lowered his weapon and held out a pacifying hand. “Wait! Shhh...it’s all right. I’m not going to hurt you. I swear,” he soothed.
The girl stood still, trembling. Fear shone in her eyes.
The youth splashed across the stream as non-threateningly as possible. “Hey there. It’s all right,” Elboron crooned, approaching her. “I’m a friend. I mean you no harm.”
He reached out to comfort her, but she flinched away from his touch. “Oh, I’m sorry,” the young man stammered. He withdrew his outstretched hand. “There, there, I won’t touch you then.” Elboron bent down, concerned etched deeply on his brow. “Can you tell me what’s wrong, little one? Why were you running?”
The small girl’s lip quivered and she eyed him with distrust.
It speared the youth’s heart. He murmured, “It’s okay. You can trust me. I’m here to help you.”
The child’s breathing started to hitch and fresh tears glistened in her eyes. “Th...the bad...men,” she wailed, “they...they...they took me...from my...home. I...I got...got away...but...they’re chasing me!”
A flood of emotions swept over Elboron like a tidal wave. The anguish he felt ignited into fiery anger. How dare those animals do such a thing to a little girl! At the same time, his training and instincts screamed at him the seriousness of their predicament. Whoever was chasing this girl couldn’t be far behind. They needed to get out of here before her captors found them.
Before he could make a move, his worse fears were realized. The close snapping of twigs and thundering boots signaled the imminent arrival of several men. They were out of time. Elboron had just seconds to act before the men would be upon them.
He hastily ripped the horn he wore from his belt. It was the Horn of Gondor. King Elessar had had a new one made years ago and presented to his father, who had given it to him. Elboron handed it to the girl. “Blow this with all your strength, little one. It will bring aid,” the youth gasped as he shoved her protectively behind his back. He nocked an arrow and raised his weapon at the same time eight armed men burst forth from the tree line.
“What do we have here?” sneered the leader of the group. He was a grizzled, brutish man with oily hair. A short sword gleamed in his hand.
Before the youth could answer, the Horn of Gondor sounded behind him as the girl blew it weakly. Elboron tried not to cringe at the faint call that resounded into the woods. He could only pray Legolas’ elven ears would hear it. Undeterred, the leader took a step towards the young man and child.
Elboron pulled his bowstring tighter, and barked, “Stay back!”
The brigands snickered at the youth’s audacity. The leader smiled, “I’m afraid I can’t do that, boy. You see, you have something of ours.”
Grey orbs saw red. “She belongs to no one, least of all you!” he growled. “And you’ll have to drain every drop of blood from my body before I let you take her!”
“That can be arranged,” the leader replied with a slight nod of his head.
Suddenly, Elboron’s upper chest exploded in hot, white pain as an arrow slammed into it. He cried out and the girl screamed. The youth resisted the urge to collapse. He was the only thing standing between the girl and these monsters, he had to fight. Staring beyond the stars that danced before his eyes, Elboron located the enemy archer and fired his own shot. The arrow flew true.
The kidnappers watched their comrade’s body fall to the ground. Steely faces turned on him, and the two men closest to him converged on the young warrior.
Elboron whipped out his sword. He brought it up and blocked the first man’s blow with a “clang.” Using his bow, Elboron swept the second assailant’s feet out from under him. The two blades parted and met again. The young man parried. He followed it up with stab. Elboron’s steel bit deeply into his foe’s unprotected abdomen.
Yanking the sword free, it clashed with the second assailant’s knife. The weapons locked until a hard, quick flick of his wrist sent the knife sailing through the air. As Elboron moved to deliver a fatal blow, a yell from the left caught his attention.
The youth caught the deadly blow with his bow. It snapped under the force, and the enemy’s blade cut deeply into his arm. A scream clawed at his throat, but he swallowed it. Kicking out, his heavy boot fractured the enemy’s knee cap. Elboron returned his attention back to the disarmed man just in time to receive an iron fist in the face.
He refused to stumble back from the blow, and remained in place. He had to stay between them and the child. Swinging his sword, it slashed across the man’s chest. The man fell to reveal a companion’s sword headed straight for his strawberry blond head. Elboron brought his sword back around and deflected it.
Searing agony vibrated up and down his leg as the foe on the ground embedded his steel deep into the young warrior’s thigh. Bile rose in his throat. With a half cry, half yell, he grabbed an arrow from his quiver and stabbed the blade’s owner. His right hand thrust the sword into the other man.
Elboron gritted his teeth and blinked away the haze. He uttered a war cry and parried the next sword that came at him. A quick series of moves left the brigand dead at his feet.
Two more, he thought, lifting his blade. It rang against his opponent’s. They separated and clashed again. Elboron stabbed at the man, but he avoided it. The outlaw struck back. Afraid the sword would strike the little one behind him, Elboron resisted the urge to dodge the blow. It cost him. The blade clipped his side, but it left the man open. The youth swung his sword and beheaded his enemy. One more.
His broad chest heaved painfully, while he glanced around for the leader. The growing dark patches in his eyes made it difficult to see anything more than a few feet away. He heard the tightening of a bowstring nearby. “Legolas.” The elf would finish the job.
But it was not Legolas. Elboron gasped as an arrow struck him in the chest, just below the first one. The shocked youth turned his head in the direction the projectile originated from and barely made out the leader. He had picked up his fallen comrade’s bow and was loading another arrow.
Elboron tried to raise his sword to defend himself, but his body betrayed him. His arms were suddenly too heavy. Coughs began rattling his chest, and blood filled his mouth. Tears of fear, pain, and frustration threatened to spill from his eyes as his knees buckled. He hit the ground hard, jolting his injuries. Elboron thought he could hear the girl shriek, yet he couldn’t tell due to the roaring in his ears.
The leader grinned at the battered youth. Rough, calloused hands drew back the arrow and aimed it at his heart. “You were foolish to stand in my way, boy.”
~PC~
The blood in Legolas’ veins chilled the moment he heard the Horn of Gondor. It was faint, but there was no mistaking the sound. “Elboron…”
In an instant, the elf was on his feet. Nimble fingers snatched up his weapons, and he raced into the woods. Desperate eyes looked to the trees, “Saes, help me!” he begged between breaths, “Which way did the boy go?” The trees to his left rustled and pointed with their branches. Legolas took off in that direction.
His heart hammered wildly in his chest as his feet flew across the rough ground. The prince sailed over the roots and brush that stood in his way. Only one thought drove him. He had to reach Elboron in time! He couldn’t let it end like it did the last time he had heard the horn. He couldn’t come too late, not again.
In the distance, a small stream came into view. Battle sounds pierced his ears. Legolas pumped his legs even harder. The fight scene materialized with each step that brought him closer to his charge. A young girl crouched behind Elboron and four bodies surrounded the two. The youth was fiercely engaged with a fifth man.
Legolas fitted an arrow, but he was still too far away for a shot to do any good. Just twenty-five more yards, and he would be in range. The elf’s body went numb as he helplessly watched the enemy stab Elboron in the side. “No!” he choked in dismay.
Yet, to his joy, the young man kept his footing and dispatched his foe. His joy was short lived when an arrow hit Elboron in the chest. Legolas roared with rage, and he covered the last five feet. The firstborn’s heart fell with the boy. Without hesitation, he raised his bow and fired.
The outlaw crumpled with an arrow through his eye. Legolas darted across the stream; just in time to catch Elboron in his arms. Gently, he lowered the youth onto the coarse sand.
Dim, grey eyes peered at the elf. “Leg’las,” he slurred.
“Shhh...penneth, I’m here,” murmured Legolas while he began to survey the human’s injuries, “You’re going to be okay. You’re safe now.”
Elboron lifted his head, “The…”
Easing him back down, the prince gently ordered, “Don’t move.”
“The girl,” choked the young man, “Is she...safe?”
Legolas glanced around until he located the trembling child. She stood a couple feet away and observed silently with wide eyes. Rivulets coursed down her cheeks, but she did not appear to be badly hurt. He looked back down at Elboron’s white face, “She’s here. She’s safe.”
The human nodded. Then, without warning, his body went limp.
“Elboron!” shouted the elf. His fingers rapidly sought a pulse. He breathed a sigh of relief when he felt it. It was thready, but it was there.
Legolas quelched his panic and turned his full attention to the youth’s injuries. Blood flowed from the leg wound and stained the human’s pants a dark red. The jagged cut on his arm was no better. Elboron’s side poured crimson as well.
However, it was the arrows protruding from Elboron’s chest that made Legolas want to vomit. A flashback of Boromir’s death played before his blue eyes against his will. Staring down at the youth in his arms, Legolas felt like he was witnessing the same nightmare again. “Ai Elbereth!” he moaned. Boromir had died, and now his brother’s son was dying too.
Legolas tightened his grip on the human. Elboron was not dead yet. He could still save him. The prince hurriedly shed his cloak, and began tearing it into strips. It was too dangerous to remove the arrows, for fear of nicking an artery, but he could bind the other wounds.
After five minutes, all three injuries were wrapped. He slid his arms under Elboron and lifted him bridal style. Legolas turned to the girl, “I need you to be brave and follow me, little one. Can you do that?”
The child wagged her head and stepped towards the firstborn.
“Good.” The elf cradled the injured human closer to his chest. “We must travel with great haste if he is to survive.”
~PC~
The sun’s orange and pink rays rose over the horizon when two, sweat-lathered horses galloped into Ithilien. Legolas rode hard until they entered Faramir’s courtyard. He didn’t wait for his horse to stop before he dismounted, holding Elboron in his arms.
The youth’s skin was white as snow. Blood still oozed from his wounds. The crude arrows barely moved up and down with the human’s few, shallow breaths, and the elf could barely make out a pulse.
“Help!” Legolas cried, “I need healers now!” Unwilling to wait another second, he sprinted up the stone steps. A slew of servants met him halfway up the steps. Their eyes widened with horror and many muttered words of dismay. One servant tried to take Elboron from his arms, but the prince refused to hand him over, “I said I need a healer, now get me one! Hurry!” he ordered, his voice cold as ice.
Several servants dispersed in the direction of the healing ward, while others got out of Legolas’ way. Fear gleamed in their eyes. Legolas ignored all of this, and continued to the healing ward. The young man in his arms never moved. Not even when his mother rounded a corner, gasped, and ran to him, calling his name.
Upon entering the healing ward, a wizened healer pointed them to a bed. Two others rushed around gathering instruments and supplies. The elf gently laid Elboron on the bed. Eowyn immediately knelt beside Elboron and stroked her son’s matted hair. Her pale face glanced up at the prince, “Legolas, what happened? What happened to my son?”
“He went off to scout by himself. He met a small girl being chased by brigands. Elboron protected the girl and fought them off.” The elf gulped, “He blew the Horn. I got there as fast as I could, but...I’m sorry.”
Just as Eowyn was about to respond, the healers gathered around the bed and began to work on the youth. One healer lightly directed Legolas out of the way. He watched while they examined Elboron’s wounds. Their faces fell. Their grim expressions twisted his gut, and made his breath hitch. I’m too late.
Suddenly, the door burst open and Faramir dashed into the room. His eyes searched wildly for his child. Within a second, they settled on the bed and its occupant. The sight stopped Faramir in his tracks. He swallowed hard and rushed over to his wife’s side.
Legolas observed Faramir wrap his arms around Eowyn in a comforting embrace. The steward reached out to touch Elboron, but a healer stopped him and said a few soft words. Eowyn also said something; Faramir drew her closer in response. He turned around to Legolas, but the prince turned away. He could not bear to face his friend. Not now, not when Elboron was dying. It was too much, and Legolas ran out of the room.
Yet, he did not go far. He found himself pacing the corridor outside the room. After several minutes, the elf leaned against the wall for support. All the while, he begged the Valar for a miracle.
~PC~
The hours ticked by, and Legolas remained curled against the wall. Tear tracks streaked his face, but the tears had dried a while ago. His countenance was haggard and drawn. He looked old for an immortal. The elf’s blue eyes stared listlessly at the wall across from him.
Two legs stepped in front of him. An auburn haired elf leaned over and clasped the prince’s shoulder and gently shook it, “Legolas...Legolas.”
Legolas jumped out of his reverie. The elf soothed, “It’s me, it’s Delhir.”
“What do you want?” rasped the blond elf.
“I want you to get up and take care of yourself.” Delhir tried to pull Legolas up, “Come bathe, change your clothes, and eat something.”
The prince shrugged out of the elf’s grasp. “No. Just leave me be,” he mumbled wearily.
“But…”
“I said leave me!” Legolas growled ferally, “Go!”
Delhir regarded him for a moment before he nodded and padded back down the hallway. Legolas sighed and buried his head in the folds of his arms.
Faramir found him like this when he exited the ward. “Legolas?”
The steward quickly walked over to the elf, and breathed a sigh of relief as he noticed the steady rise and fall of Legolas’ chest. Faramir knelt down beside him and placed a hand on his arm. “Legolas, mellon nin, are you well?
The firstborn glanced at the man, but quickly averted his gaze.
Faramir’s brow furrowed with concern, “Mellon, why won’t you look at me?”
“Because...because I betrayed your trust,” the elf whispered, ashamed.
“What do you mean?”
Legolas drew in a shaky breath, and looked his friend in the face. “You trusted me with your son. You trusted me to bring him back to you safe.” He hung his head, “I failed to do that.”
“This is not your fault.”
“Yes it is. I...I should’ve stopped him or gotten to him sooner.” The prince shuddered, “Now, Elboron is dying, just like Boromir did.”
Faramir exhaled, “Elboron is going to be fine, mellon nin.”
A touch of color returned to the firstborn’s grey face. “He is?”
“Yes,” the father smiled. “He faces a long recovery, but the healers say he will live.”
“Ai!” Legolas dragged a hand over his face and exhaled, “Praise the Valar.”
Faramir murmured his agreement, and sobered again. “Legolas, do not bear a burden that is not yours to bear. Neither my brother nor Elboron would want that.
“But I…”
He held up a hand, silencing the elf. “Elboron is old enough to make his own choices and live with the consequences, whatever they may be. He knows the cost of protection, as did Boromir. They chose to defend the innocent anyway. The decisions were theirs to make, and theirs alone.” Faramir squeezed Legolas’ arm, “We must make our peace with that.”
Several moments of silence passed. A mix of emotions fluctuated on Legolas’ countenance as he pondered his friend’s words. Finally, he let out a weighty breath, and let the tension drain from his body. A small smile tugged the corners of his mouth, “You’re right, mellon nin.”
The steward chuckled, “Tell that to my wife.”
The prince paled, “I dare not.”
Faramir huffed and rose to his feet. He extended an arm to the elf.
Legolas seized it and let the man haul him up. “Hannon le,” he whispered as the two friends embraced each other.
“I need to go back in and check on them.” The human clapped the elf’s shoulder, “In the meantime, go clean up and get some rest. I’ll send word when he wakes.”
He nodded reluctantly, “If you insist.”
“I do.” The father strode over to the healing ward’s door.
“Faramir!” Legolas called.
The steward stopped, “Yes?”
“You should be proud of your son. He stood like a wall between the girl and those men. None were able to get past him.”
Faramir dipped his head and smiled, “I am.”