Ch. 10
Even in his near stupor, Legolas could sense someone approaching.
"No!" He raised the knife with a trembling arm, ready to make the final stance before death.
"Legolas!"
He looked up blindly at the familiar voice. "Salque!" he cried out in total disbelief, but found that he had made no sound at all.
The older elf dropped to his side and swept him into his arms. "I have found you, little one."
"Salque, Salque." Discarding the knife, he weakly clutched at what he could of the older elf as tears stung his eyes.
"It is all right. It is all right. You are safe now. I will not let anyone else harm you." The older elf whispered soothingly. His arms tightened around Legolas once more before releasing him. "We will go back now."
Standing upright, he let out a shrill whistle. Drawn by the sound of the whistle, and the sight of a lone elf standing, several orcs lurched toward him, their weapons waving menacingly. Salque watched their approach with narrowed eyes. Good, he thought. The sight of a bloody and battered Legolas had aroused a deep and cold anger in him. He would gladly vent that anger by sending these Valar forsaken creatures back to their maker.
With a near animalistic cry, he launched himself upon the advancing enemies, his knives sweeping out in a deathly arc that immediately cut down three foremost orcs. With guttural cries of their own, the remaining orcs converged on the lone elf. Fuelled by his anger, Salque showed no mercy as his knives slashed and cut into the enemy flesh. With a satisfied grunt, he yanked his knife from the body of the last orc and watched as it crumbled to the ground. He looked up and saw a group of elves approaching on horseback. Salque nodded to himself. It was time to get the young prince back to the palace. He turned to make his way back to his young charge.
Suddenly, his warrior’s instinct screamed out at him and he instinctively swung around with his knives.
"Salque!" Legolas’ heart-rending cry filled his ears at the same instant that something immeasurably cold and hard rammed into his body. For an endless second, he froze before his knife continued on in its deathly path. His enemy was still grinning when the elvish knife deftly separated his head from the rest of his body. The headless orc body remained standing for a brief second before finally toppling to the ground, pulling with it the black blade that had been imbedded deeply in the other’s body.

"Salque!" From somewhere off, Salque heard the familiar voice. He tried to turn but fell to his knees instead as he desperately tried to draw in breath.
"Salque! No, Salque!" Legolas frantically clawed himself forward to where the older elf crouched, oblivious to the elves that now surrounded them. He reached the other elf just as Salque crumbled forward.
"Salque, no! No!" Legolas cradled the fallen warrior, his horrified eyes taking in the blood pouring from a gaping hole in the other’s chest. He pressed his hand, stained with his own blood, over the gushing wound in a futile attempt to stem the bleeding.
"Salque! Can you hear me? Salque?"
Salque desperately wanted to assure the young elf but he could barely draw breath, let alone give sound to his voice. His efforts to speak launched him into a vicious fit of coughing that left him gasping even more for air. He knew he had little time left.
Sacrificing everything he had, he forced himself to take in enough breath to speak. "Legolas .."
"Salque, you will be all right," Legolas cried brokenly.
The older elf moved his hand weakly and Legolas grasped it with his own. "I cannot – pro- protect you any – more, lit – little one."
"No, Salque, you cannot leave ." Tears poured down Legolas’ cheeks, streaked with blood and dirt.
Another spasm of violent coughing seized the older warrior. Legolas watched in helpless desperation as blood began to stain the other’s whiten lips.
With breath rasping in his throat, Salque forced himself to speak again. "You – will – go on, little one." He stopped, grappling with the shortage of breath and the paralyzing pain. "Do not –mm-mourn me."
"Salque! Please, do not say that! You cannot die!"
"My time c-comes– Halls of – of Mandos b-beckon," the older elf gasped laboriously. His grip on the other tightened fractionally. "I - l-love you, little – one -- son I – I never h-had." The cold hand slackened and the light forever left his eyes.
For a mind-numbing moment, Legolas stared down at the still face of his one-time guardian, all thoughts and senses deadened. The world was suddenly an empty and lightless void. Slowly, he lowered his head and laid his face against the unmoving, blood-soaked chest of the now dead elf. "Salque, do not leave me. Please do not go." Tears spilled from his eyes as the pain in his heart grew and grew. Salque was gone!
"No!" The heart-rending scream was tore from his lips and he dissolved into loud, inconsolable sobs. He clutched Salque’s bloodstained tunic as he wept as he had never wept before, past caring for whatever else that might be happening. Salque was gone!
From above, the ring of protective elves watched in numbed sorrow. Though death surrounded them, the passing of an immortal life was something that no living elf could easily accept. Among them, stood Aldeon, his own eyes blurred with unshed tears. It had all happened so quickly that none had the opportunity to prevent the tragedy. His heart wept for the dead warrior, but it wept more for the battered and heart-broken elf that was his little brother. He stepped forward and knelt down by the grieving prince.
"Legolas, come, let us get you back to the palace." He touched his brother’s arm gently. "It is not safe to linger any further."
Legolas looked up, his face wild with grief and devoid of recognition of the one before him. "Salque is gone! Make him come back, please!"
Aldeon thought his heart would break at his brother’s stricken words. He reached out and untangled the young elf’s hands from the lifeless body. "Come, Legolas."
"No, I will not leave him. I will not!"
"We will take him back with us. Come, little one."
Legolas made as if to pull back, but his body, tried beyond endurance, at last gave out under the overwhelming trauma of grief and physical hurts. His eyes slipped closed and he toppled forward. His brother caught his limp form and smoothly swept him up in his arms. Aldeon stared down at his now unconscious brother, his heart constricting with fear as he took in the ashen pallor and the blood that continued to soak his brother’s already reddened and tattered tunic. Dear Elbereth, let him not be too late!
TBC