Prince of Dol Guldur; Chapter 21: Defeat
Story Info
Title: Prince of Dol Guldur
Author: Del Rion (delrion.mail (at) gmail.com)
Fandom: The Lord of the Rings
Era: Third Age of the Sun
Genre: Action/Adventure, AU
Rating: M / FRM
Characters: Legolas, Thrandui (, OCs)
Summary: Mirkwood Elves live constantly under an influence of a shadow, and it isn’t too hard to cross the line to the side of darkness... Legolas learns this as he meets a stranger in the woods, who desires to show him a new way to see the world.
Part of the history of “The Last Journey”. Complete.
Warnings: Death, evil, darkness, violence, etc.
~ ~ ~
Chapter 21: Defeat
Thalión halted, his senses informing that a group of Elves was drawing near to him. He turned to look back, seeing two Elves slip across his line of vision. What is Thrénandu´s group doing here? he mused, taking a step forward. He hesitated, desires warring inside him. But when even more Elves ran past him, he made up his mind. Running forward he soon came up with another small group, almost smiling at the others’ shocked looks. “What is going on?” Thalión asked swiftly, more Elves joining them.
“The King’s group is under an attack. We are heading out to help them,” one of the Elves informed the Cousin. “They are only a mile away from here, moving towards us.”
Thalión nodded, moving on with the others. “Where is Thrénandu?” he asked, pulling his bow free.
“He is somewhere behind us,” the warrior said, glancing back. “But he told us to gather up before actually joining the battle.”
Thalión nodded again, giving the southern path a remorseful look. You must go on your own for a while still, Rafél. It seems that we are in worse trouble than you, at the moment.
- - -
Rafél locked their swords together, trying to get Legolas off balance. But the youth did not fall for such a simple trick, merely sliding himself free and attacking Rafél’s wounded side. Curse him but he is good. Though I can blame only myself of that, Rafél thought ironically, keeping a safe distance between them. He was not sure if he was dreaming or not, but he thought he heard sounds of a battle in the distance. Maybe it would confuse him enough to give me an open space to move.
Legolas also halted, listening momentarily. An unhappy look crossed his face, but his eyes soon turned to Rafél, a false, sweet smile preceding his next attack which nearly knocked Rafél over. “They can’t save you,” Legolas said menacingly. “They will find your corpse, no more.”
“Your father is out there, Legolas,” Rafél tried, willing to try every possible way to draw his real protege back to surface. “What do you think he would say if he would see this?”
Legolas halted, pursing his lips as he thought. “He would not recognise his son?” he suggested.
Good answer, and possibly the correct one, but yet not the one I was searching for, Rafél thought grimly as he took the opportunity to make his move on Legolas. The other answered to his movement, bringing his sword between them and forcing Rafél to use his. They struggled for a long moment, Rafél counting the dangerous seconds when his strength began to fade. He pushed against Legolas, taking a step back, and then shot his sword down, hitting the knife away from Legolas’ grasp as the youth tried to bring it up.
Legolas looked after the lost weapon for a while, but turned soon back to the other Elf, his smile never faltering. He lifted his sword, leaning it against his forehead, and then he came forward again, forcing Rafél to another battle of blades.
- - -
Dínnor had never been so relieved when a familiar body collided into his, a soft laughter informing him that Thalión had arrived. The bow of his cousin sang, dropping three Orcs before Dínnor was able to turn and thank him.
“Forget it,” Thalión replied, gazing at the Orcs which were pushing the Elves backwards. “You will have enough time to repay that before this is over.” They drew away and climbed to the nearest tree, deciding to take a small debate out of the raging battle.
“How did you come up with Thrénandu?” Asthaldo shouted, distancing himself from the battle below. Most of the Elves were fighting on the ground now, Thrénandu’s forces joined into them.
“It seems that you reached me swifter than I thought,” Thalión muttered, balancing on his branch. “I took the path through the trees, which proved to be a slower than your way, battle or no. I met Thrénandu’s group a while back when they were coming to your aid.”
“What about Rafél?” Dínnor asked, cleaning his sword. They would join to the battle soon enough, and he wanted to be prepared.
Thalión shook his head. “I didn’t reach him, but he is not far, of that I am sure.”
“Your best guess?” Asthaldo asked as he prepared to join the battle below.
“A mile or two,” Thalión answered, sending his final arrow flying, “But this darkness makes us all confused.”
“A mile longer…” Dínnor muttered. “Our luck is indeed fading out.”
“I hope he is faring better, then,” Asthaldo quipped. “Not that he would need much for that. And with very good luck, the Orcs will drive us right at him.”
“Would that be good, I wonder?” Thalión mused as they dropped back to the ground.
- - -
It was funny how your entire life passed before your eyes when you faced your death. Rafél felt exactly like that, but he had no time to laugh at it. Legolas kept him occupied enough. But death he faced at the moment, staring at those black voids called eyes being the closest promise of death you could get. I always loved his eyes, Rafél thought. The way they could never lie, for his eyes spoke the truth, whatever the situation. When he said he was all right, I saw the hurt in there. But I failed to look in his eyes before this all happened. Surely I could have seen the marks there.
As Legolas met him in one more strike, Rafél finally gasped, his right hand trembling with pain. Blood poured down his arm, slicking the hilt of his sword. His leg wasn’t any better, and the numerous other wounds ached from the strain they were forced to endure. But he was unwilling to give in as long as he lived. He could not leave Legolas like this. He needed to know that the other would be fine…
The sounds of the battle were getting increasingly close, and at times Rafél thought he saw a shape moving in the distance. He was tempted to call out, hoping it was his Elven kinsmen fighting whatever enemy they had found. But he couldn’t be sure, and therefor he did not risk anything.
Legolas let out a short laugh, swaying the tip of his sword from side to another. “Tired, old one? Why not just to give up?”
Why not indeed? Rafél wondered, his eyes following the other’s movements, yet his own sword remained on its place, leaning to the ground. The only reason why I still fight is you, Legolas.
Visibly bored at their current game, Legolas swung his sword, then took a step forward, lashing a shallow cut at Rafél’s breast. The guardian didn’t even wince, nor did he move away. His eyes merely stayed staring at Legolas, wishing for some sort of a miracle to happen. Legolas snorted, pacing in front of the other Elf, trying to decide how to end the other’s pitiful life. The fight was getting close, an erratic arrow finding its way to their battlefield now and then. It did not matter to him what the others did, however. His battle was here, with this Elf. And yet he hesitated…
Rafél closed his eyes, trying to stop the spinning in his head. He needed to focus, if nothing else. He was not dead yet, so the game was not over. And how is this game going to end? Will he slay me like an Orc would? No, I guess not. He is no Orc, after all. A sharp blade pressed against his neck, and without a further fight, Rafél sank down to his knees, opening his eyes to look up at his enemy. And yet he saw no enemy, but a youth he had trained to fight and live. A youth he loved like no other.
Legolas smiled down at his victim, playing various possibilities in his head. Maybe he should leave him dying, let the others find his dying body? The thought pleased him, but yet something… I cannot! something screamed inside of him. Shaking his head and calling more shadows to him, Legolas took a hold of the sword in his hand, bringing it up slowly. He rested it upon Rafél’s shoulder, letting it lay there unmoving, gathering anticipation. Would the other beg? Plead for his life like a weak thing he was.
“Legolas please, you know me, don’t you?” Rafél tried for one more time. “They are just using the anger in you. The anger you felt for me. But deep inside, you do not wish to kill. Not like this.”
“Or maybe I do,” Legolas snarled. “Maybe you never took time to see -” He halted, frowning. He wasn’t sure if he had even seen this other Elf before, so why was he saying such a thing? You can’t kill him! a voice in his head shouted. You cannot! Shaking his head annoyed, Legolas drove down the desperate cries, shifting his sword closer to the other neck, pressing a red line to the pale skin. “Time to die,” he muttered.
Cries of the battle beyond theirs came closer, clash of metal against another filling the night. Legolas’ hands were steady, pressing his blade against the other’s skin slowly but steadily, the rest of the world falling away. “Kill him!” The command given by the dark Elf echoed through his head and became all he could think. Everything else dropped away and lost meaning.
An arrow whistled through the air, tearing leaves of a bush as it passed through the air. Rafél heard it but never saw it coming - not until Legolas’ body jerked back, a gasp coming form the other Elf. The black eyes flew wide, the youth taking a step back to catch himself.
Even as Rafél watched, the dark sword dropped to the ground, a violent shiver running through Legolas’ body. Wide eyes glanced down, trying to interpret the arrow buried deep in his chest. Blood poured from the wound, staining the already dirty garment of his tunic. After another breath Legolas looked up, his eyes meeting Rafél’s. The shadows retreated, the original blue colour being revealed from behind the darkness.
“Legolas…” Rafél gasped, unable to move.
Legolas’ lips trembled, his eyes shining with unshed tears. Recognition returned to him and he whispered Rafél’s name, his voice rasped as he fought to breath. His legs fell from beneath him and he collapsed to the ground, his fingers clawing at the moss as he fought the pain wracking his body.
Rafél struggled free from his shock, crawling to sit beside Legolas, too tired to stand up. Legolas’ fingers dug into his sleeve, holding him close. A small whimper came from the youth, his head resting against Rafél’s shoulder.
“I am so sorry,” Legolas choked, his body shivering violently.
Rafél shook his head, pulling Legolas away to inspect the arrow. Horror filled him as his eyes followed the shaft that had embedded itself deeply into Legolas’ flesh, right below his heart. An Orc arrow. Possibly poisoned. Such a hit will lead only to- Rafél halted his erratic thoughts, making Legolas lean against his body. He pressed the other close, trying to offer the little comfort he had to give. His own pain fell aside, the rest of the world forgotten. “Legolas…” Rafél whispered again, searching the other’s eyes.
Tears were streaming down Legolas’ cheeks, his eyes getting disoriented. Blood stained his lips, mingling with his tears. He did not try to speak anymore, but the way his eyes looked pleadingly up at Rafél was enough.
Biting his lip, Rafél fought off the dark feeling that began to eat his heart. He could not allow fear overtake him, not now when Legolas needed him most. But what else did he have but desperate fear as Legolas’ blood stained his hands and clothes, the youth’s body getting limp in his arms, shivers fading.
“Don’t give up, Legolas,” he begged with a broken voice. The only answer he got was a look of apology in Legolas’ eyes, the other’s fëa touching faintly against his. “Fight,” he hissed, shifting Legolas in his arms, trying to keep the other close. Scent of blood filled the air, making him sick. It is blood that I am supposed to protect. “Legolas, I beg you… Do not give up.” His voice barely carried to his own ears, and the feel of utter weakness filled him. Legolas’ eyes turned glassy, the beat of his heart slowing down under his hands. He was losing him. When the blue eyes finally fell shut he leaned his head against Legolas’ forehead, praying with a never-ending mantra to the Gods. “How did I not see this coming?” he asked, his voice seethed with desperate anger. “Why didn’t I do anything? Why couldn’t I die instead of him?”
An idea entered his head, giving him a flash of hope in the middle of the darkness. Gathering Legolas closer to himself, Rafél pressed his right hand upon Legolas’ wound, avoiding from touching the arrow. His mind centred around one thought: saving Legolas. His fëa flared with its last power, reaching out to blend around Legolas’, mingling their strength together. ”Live for me,“ Rafél begged, his spirit mingling with Legolas’, trying to keep the other from slipping to the endless dream that would end only in Mandos. I cannot let him die in my arms. Not while I yet live.
The End…
(continues in ”Loyalty to Blood”)
Lullacry: Heart of Darkness
Black clouds fill my mind
I can't cope with this
I wrote my name in dust
No shelter in sight
Still hoping it would last
Only my pride died
Please save me from the heart of darkness
Please save me
From the heart of darkness
No more shadows
Not even shades of grey
I wrote my name in dust
No shelter in sight
Still hoping it would last
Only my pride died
Please save me from the heart of darkness
Please save me from my darkest hour
I gave everything I had to give
Please save me from the heart of darkness
Story Info
Title: Prince of Dol Guldur
Author: Del Rion (delrion.mail (at) gmail.com)
Fandom: The Lord of the Rings
Era: Third Age of the Sun
Genre: Action/Adventure, AU
Rating: M / FRM
Characters: Legolas, Thrandui (, OCs)
Summary: Mirkwood Elves live constantly under an influence of a shadow, and it isn’t too hard to cross the line to the side of darkness... Legolas learns this as he meets a stranger in the woods, who desires to show him a new way to see the world.
Part of the history of “The Last Journey”. Complete.
Warnings: Death, evil, darkness, violence, etc.
~ ~ ~
Chapter 21: Defeat
Thalión halted, his senses informing that a group of Elves was drawing near to him. He turned to look back, seeing two Elves slip across his line of vision. What is Thrénandu´s group doing here? he mused, taking a step forward. He hesitated, desires warring inside him. But when even more Elves ran past him, he made up his mind. Running forward he soon came up with another small group, almost smiling at the others’ shocked looks. “What is going on?” Thalión asked swiftly, more Elves joining them.
“The King’s group is under an attack. We are heading out to help them,” one of the Elves informed the Cousin. “They are only a mile away from here, moving towards us.”
Thalión nodded, moving on with the others. “Where is Thrénandu?” he asked, pulling his bow free.
“He is somewhere behind us,” the warrior said, glancing back. “But he told us to gather up before actually joining the battle.”
Thalión nodded again, giving the southern path a remorseful look. You must go on your own for a while still, Rafél. It seems that we are in worse trouble than you, at the moment.
- - -
Rafél locked their swords together, trying to get Legolas off balance. But the youth did not fall for such a simple trick, merely sliding himself free and attacking Rafél’s wounded side. Curse him but he is good. Though I can blame only myself of that, Rafél thought ironically, keeping a safe distance between them. He was not sure if he was dreaming or not, but he thought he heard sounds of a battle in the distance. Maybe it would confuse him enough to give me an open space to move.
Legolas also halted, listening momentarily. An unhappy look crossed his face, but his eyes soon turned to Rafél, a false, sweet smile preceding his next attack which nearly knocked Rafél over. “They can’t save you,” Legolas said menacingly. “They will find your corpse, no more.”
“Your father is out there, Legolas,” Rafél tried, willing to try every possible way to draw his real protege back to surface. “What do you think he would say if he would see this?”
Legolas halted, pursing his lips as he thought. “He would not recognise his son?” he suggested.
Good answer, and possibly the correct one, but yet not the one I was searching for, Rafél thought grimly as he took the opportunity to make his move on Legolas. The other answered to his movement, bringing his sword between them and forcing Rafél to use his. They struggled for a long moment, Rafél counting the dangerous seconds when his strength began to fade. He pushed against Legolas, taking a step back, and then shot his sword down, hitting the knife away from Legolas’ grasp as the youth tried to bring it up.
Legolas looked after the lost weapon for a while, but turned soon back to the other Elf, his smile never faltering. He lifted his sword, leaning it against his forehead, and then he came forward again, forcing Rafél to another battle of blades.
- - -
Dínnor had never been so relieved when a familiar body collided into his, a soft laughter informing him that Thalión had arrived. The bow of his cousin sang, dropping three Orcs before Dínnor was able to turn and thank him.
“Forget it,” Thalión replied, gazing at the Orcs which were pushing the Elves backwards. “You will have enough time to repay that before this is over.” They drew away and climbed to the nearest tree, deciding to take a small debate out of the raging battle.
“How did you come up with Thrénandu?” Asthaldo shouted, distancing himself from the battle below. Most of the Elves were fighting on the ground now, Thrénandu’s forces joined into them.
“It seems that you reached me swifter than I thought,” Thalión muttered, balancing on his branch. “I took the path through the trees, which proved to be a slower than your way, battle or no. I met Thrénandu’s group a while back when they were coming to your aid.”
“What about Rafél?” Dínnor asked, cleaning his sword. They would join to the battle soon enough, and he wanted to be prepared.
Thalión shook his head. “I didn’t reach him, but he is not far, of that I am sure.”
“Your best guess?” Asthaldo asked as he prepared to join the battle below.
“A mile or two,” Thalión answered, sending his final arrow flying, “But this darkness makes us all confused.”
“A mile longer…” Dínnor muttered. “Our luck is indeed fading out.”
“I hope he is faring better, then,” Asthaldo quipped. “Not that he would need much for that. And with very good luck, the Orcs will drive us right at him.”
“Would that be good, I wonder?” Thalión mused as they dropped back to the ground.
- - -
It was funny how your entire life passed before your eyes when you faced your death. Rafél felt exactly like that, but he had no time to laugh at it. Legolas kept him occupied enough. But death he faced at the moment, staring at those black voids called eyes being the closest promise of death you could get. I always loved his eyes, Rafél thought. The way they could never lie, for his eyes spoke the truth, whatever the situation. When he said he was all right, I saw the hurt in there. But I failed to look in his eyes before this all happened. Surely I could have seen the marks there.
As Legolas met him in one more strike, Rafél finally gasped, his right hand trembling with pain. Blood poured down his arm, slicking the hilt of his sword. His leg wasn’t any better, and the numerous other wounds ached from the strain they were forced to endure. But he was unwilling to give in as long as he lived. He could not leave Legolas like this. He needed to know that the other would be fine…
The sounds of the battle were getting increasingly close, and at times Rafél thought he saw a shape moving in the distance. He was tempted to call out, hoping it was his Elven kinsmen fighting whatever enemy they had found. But he couldn’t be sure, and therefor he did not risk anything.
Legolas let out a short laugh, swaying the tip of his sword from side to another. “Tired, old one? Why not just to give up?”
Why not indeed? Rafél wondered, his eyes following the other’s movements, yet his own sword remained on its place, leaning to the ground. The only reason why I still fight is you, Legolas.
Visibly bored at their current game, Legolas swung his sword, then took a step forward, lashing a shallow cut at Rafél’s breast. The guardian didn’t even wince, nor did he move away. His eyes merely stayed staring at Legolas, wishing for some sort of a miracle to happen. Legolas snorted, pacing in front of the other Elf, trying to decide how to end the other’s pitiful life. The fight was getting close, an erratic arrow finding its way to their battlefield now and then. It did not matter to him what the others did, however. His battle was here, with this Elf. And yet he hesitated…
Rafél closed his eyes, trying to stop the spinning in his head. He needed to focus, if nothing else. He was not dead yet, so the game was not over. And how is this game going to end? Will he slay me like an Orc would? No, I guess not. He is no Orc, after all. A sharp blade pressed against his neck, and without a further fight, Rafél sank down to his knees, opening his eyes to look up at his enemy. And yet he saw no enemy, but a youth he had trained to fight and live. A youth he loved like no other.
Legolas smiled down at his victim, playing various possibilities in his head. Maybe he should leave him dying, let the others find his dying body? The thought pleased him, but yet something… I cannot! something screamed inside of him. Shaking his head and calling more shadows to him, Legolas took a hold of the sword in his hand, bringing it up slowly. He rested it upon Rafél’s shoulder, letting it lay there unmoving, gathering anticipation. Would the other beg? Plead for his life like a weak thing he was.
“Legolas please, you know me, don’t you?” Rafél tried for one more time. “They are just using the anger in you. The anger you felt for me. But deep inside, you do not wish to kill. Not like this.”
“Or maybe I do,” Legolas snarled. “Maybe you never took time to see -” He halted, frowning. He wasn’t sure if he had even seen this other Elf before, so why was he saying such a thing? You can’t kill him! a voice in his head shouted. You cannot! Shaking his head annoyed, Legolas drove down the desperate cries, shifting his sword closer to the other neck, pressing a red line to the pale skin. “Time to die,” he muttered.
Cries of the battle beyond theirs came closer, clash of metal against another filling the night. Legolas’ hands were steady, pressing his blade against the other’s skin slowly but steadily, the rest of the world falling away. “Kill him!” The command given by the dark Elf echoed through his head and became all he could think. Everything else dropped away and lost meaning.
An arrow whistled through the air, tearing leaves of a bush as it passed through the air. Rafél heard it but never saw it coming - not until Legolas’ body jerked back, a gasp coming form the other Elf. The black eyes flew wide, the youth taking a step back to catch himself.
Even as Rafél watched, the dark sword dropped to the ground, a violent shiver running through Legolas’ body. Wide eyes glanced down, trying to interpret the arrow buried deep in his chest. Blood poured from the wound, staining the already dirty garment of his tunic. After another breath Legolas looked up, his eyes meeting Rafél’s. The shadows retreated, the original blue colour being revealed from behind the darkness.
“Legolas…” Rafél gasped, unable to move.
Legolas’ lips trembled, his eyes shining with unshed tears. Recognition returned to him and he whispered Rafél’s name, his voice rasped as he fought to breath. His legs fell from beneath him and he collapsed to the ground, his fingers clawing at the moss as he fought the pain wracking his body.
Rafél struggled free from his shock, crawling to sit beside Legolas, too tired to stand up. Legolas’ fingers dug into his sleeve, holding him close. A small whimper came from the youth, his head resting against Rafél’s shoulder.
“I am so sorry,” Legolas choked, his body shivering violently.
Rafél shook his head, pulling Legolas away to inspect the arrow. Horror filled him as his eyes followed the shaft that had embedded itself deeply into Legolas’ flesh, right below his heart. An Orc arrow. Possibly poisoned. Such a hit will lead only to- Rafél halted his erratic thoughts, making Legolas lean against his body. He pressed the other close, trying to offer the little comfort he had to give. His own pain fell aside, the rest of the world forgotten. “Legolas…” Rafél whispered again, searching the other’s eyes.
Tears were streaming down Legolas’ cheeks, his eyes getting disoriented. Blood stained his lips, mingling with his tears. He did not try to speak anymore, but the way his eyes looked pleadingly up at Rafél was enough.
Biting his lip, Rafél fought off the dark feeling that began to eat his heart. He could not allow fear overtake him, not now when Legolas needed him most. But what else did he have but desperate fear as Legolas’ blood stained his hands and clothes, the youth’s body getting limp in his arms, shivers fading.
“Don’t give up, Legolas,” he begged with a broken voice. The only answer he got was a look of apology in Legolas’ eyes, the other’s fëa touching faintly against his. “Fight,” he hissed, shifting Legolas in his arms, trying to keep the other close. Scent of blood filled the air, making him sick. It is blood that I am supposed to protect. “Legolas, I beg you… Do not give up.” His voice barely carried to his own ears, and the feel of utter weakness filled him. Legolas’ eyes turned glassy, the beat of his heart slowing down under his hands. He was losing him. When the blue eyes finally fell shut he leaned his head against Legolas’ forehead, praying with a never-ending mantra to the Gods. “How did I not see this coming?” he asked, his voice seethed with desperate anger. “Why didn’t I do anything? Why couldn’t I die instead of him?”
An idea entered his head, giving him a flash of hope in the middle of the darkness. Gathering Legolas closer to himself, Rafél pressed his right hand upon Legolas’ wound, avoiding from touching the arrow. His mind centred around one thought: saving Legolas. His fëa flared with its last power, reaching out to blend around Legolas’, mingling their strength together. ”Live for me,“ Rafél begged, his spirit mingling with Legolas’, trying to keep the other from slipping to the endless dream that would end only in Mandos. I cannot let him die in my arms. Not while I yet live.
The End…
(continues in ”Loyalty to Blood”)
Lullacry: Heart of Darkness
Black clouds fill my mind
I can't cope with this
I wrote my name in dust
No shelter in sight
Still hoping it would last
Only my pride died
Please save me from the heart of darkness
Please save me
From the heart of darkness
No more shadows
Not even shades of grey
I wrote my name in dust
No shelter in sight
Still hoping it would last
Only my pride died
Please save me from the heart of darkness
Please save me from my darkest hour
I gave everything I had to give
Please save me from the heart of darkness
Story Info