Disclaimer: See default chapter

Dedicated to Deana for her belated Birthday present. Hope you had a great one!

I bet you’re still thinking. ‘So why is it called A Walk to Remember?’ ;-) You will see in the next chapter. Trust me. So hang on gents! It’s going to be a bumpy ride! 

Chapter 12 

Don’t let me die here

I’ve been sleeping a thousand years it seem

Got to open my eyes to everything

Without a thought without a voice without a soul

Don't let me die here

Here must be something more

Bring me to life

(Bring me to life – sung by Evanescence)

*~*

Thalion screamed his rage against the orcs attacking them. They weren’t but a half-days ride from Lothlorien, but yet the orcs had attacked. The elves had known that orcs had been following, so they had decided to attack and use the element of surprise against the orcs, instead of waiting for the enemy to attack. Though the surprise had worked well, there were still many, many orcs.

Haldir had been ordered by Lord Celeborn to accompany Lord Elrond and the other elves back to Rivendell, along with several other elves for protection. Though Thalion had been rather hesitant to ride alongside Haldir after his display of emotional weakness. It was a rather small matter of pride, but it was rather difficult to accept that the weakness he had shown had been weakness in spirit.

A Mirkwood elf rarely showed emotions around other elves other than their own family. And for Thalion to lose control in the midst of other elves not even closely related to him was rather unsettling to say the least.  But he took comfort in the fact that Lord Elrond considered himself somewhat of a surrogate father to Legolas whenever he visited Rivendell and that Lord Celeborn was actually a kinsman to his Adar and that Telos had also been there to comfort him. So in all it wasn’t so bad.

A smile crossed Thalion face for a sudden moment, and then he threw himself back in the foray desperate to return home to his Adar, his wife and his siblings.    

*~*

Haldir threw a quick glance at the Mirkwood prince. He seemed almost happily throwing himself against several orcs at a time and wiping them out. It rather unnerved Haldir who had rarely seen such ferocity in another elf. Whenever orcs had trespassed in Lothlorien, arrows would cut them all down. It was a rare occasion that the elves of Lothlorien would have to fight hand-to-hand combat.

But Haldir grudgingly admitted, that their use of arrows more often than a sword was probably the reason why Mirkwood warriors often referred to the Lothlorien warriors as “too good to get blood all over them.” But yet, it was a rather good feeling to get blood all over yourself. To see the enemy fall before you, but at the same time it was rather disturbing at how the good feeling came.

Casting another quick glance at the prince, Haldir drew himself up and with an inarticulate cry, plunged back into the foray.

*~*

Elrond gave a quick look around. His son’s were nearby. He could feel them. He let a smile grow on his lips. “Haldir!!!!” He shouted above the noise of the battle. “Help arrives soon!”

Haldir threw him a quick calculated gaze before once more attacking and killing the enemy before him.

The elves heard the sound of pounding horses hooves before any of the orcs did. And when the orcs did hear, they were already many of them, cut to pieces. In the lead rode Aragorn. He sat tall and proud in the saddle, and for a moment Elrond glimpsed not just a man, but also that of a king. 

“Ada!” Elrohir leaped from his horse and threw his arms around the blood caked elven lord. “We heard the sounds of battle almost three miles away. And came as quick as we could.”

Elrond laughed lightly. “It’s a good thing too, or else we might not have been able to beat the orcs by ourselves.” 

Elladan shook his head in mock disbelief. “Sure ada, like you have ever been defeated.” 

Aragorn dismounted alongside the elf that he had called father for many, many years. “Is everyone alright?” He questioned, looking over each elf personally.

Elrond hid a smile. “Yes Estel, everyone is well.”

Satisfied, Aragorn turned back to his Adar. “I thought you were supposed to stay in Lothlorien for a couple more weeks.” He commented lightly, ignoring his fellow rangers and hugging his ada.

“I decided that I wasn’t needed in Lothlorien as much as I am in Rivendell.” Elrond smiled. “Besides, we have a much more important things in Mirkwood than Lothlorien.” He gestured for a blood-covered elf to step forward.

With a start Aragorn recognized the elf the same time as Elladan and Elrohir did.

“Thalion!”

Thalion gave them a weary smile as he formally bowed. “Mae Govanan.”

“What are you doing here?” Aragorn demanded, a slight feeling of fear settling in the pit of his stomach.

Thalion tiredly wiped a bloody hand across his equally bloody face. “Legolas has been captured and I need to get back to Mirkwood, and the only way is for me to get back is for me to go Rivendell and then go through the lower pass to Mirkwood.”

“I’m going with you.” Aragorn stated almost before Thalion was finished. “I was going to stay in Rivendell for a few weeks but I would rather go to Mirkwood.” He hesitated. “If that is alright with you.”

Thalion smiled, his white teeth contrasting sharply amongst the black blood. “Perhaps then your father won’t make me stay in Rivendell for a couple days to rest.”

Aragorn shook his head. “Not even I could persuade him otherwise.” He said in mock fear as his fellow rangers looked on interestedly. Very few had actually seen Aragorn in such a mood. Many had been in Rivendell, but never had seen the interaction between a father and son as they did now in the elven lord and his human son.

Thalion gave a slight chuckle as he carefully cleaned his blades off and sheathed them. He stretched, the sight reminding many of the rangers of a cat stretching after a long day in the sunlight.

Thalion’s lip drew up in revulsion as he looked down at his clothes.

“There is a river about a half-mile from here.” A ranger named Liam offered.

Thalion nodded his thanks, not quite used to seeing so many men surrounding him. The last time he had been around so many men was in the Battle of Five Armies. But unlike his father who didn’t trust too many humans, Thalion like Legolas had found that men weren’t as bad as many elves thought. ‘Though.’ Thalion thought wryly. ‘The men probably think the same of elves.’

They all mounted, a few elves having to ride double because their horses had been slain. They rode right to the river and then watched as Thalion threw himself off the horse and walked in the river, clothes and all. He dipped several times, scrubbing his face and hands vigorously. The blood that had matted in his hair washed free and in a few moments Thalion was back on his horse. Thoroughly soaked to the skin but clean.

Aragorn studied the wet elf beside him and shook his head. No wonder where Legolas had gotten his impeccable cleanliness. 

Thalion met Aragorn glance and allowed a smile to spread on his face. “Legolas would have emptied all the water flasks until he was clean a half-mile back, and not wait.” He commented.

Aragorn pulled back on the reins, staring in shock at the blonde elf. How did he know what he was thinking?

Thalion continued to ride on, though he looked back. “And no, I can’t read minds, I just read postures.”

*~*~*

Thranduil stared in shock at the Easterling. The other elves had all notched their arrows and there was at least 20 arrows pointed at every single possible area that would either instantly kill the Easterling or would grantee his death.

“Lomion!” Thranduil whirled around, confident that the Easterling would make no moves while so many arrows pointed at him. "Get Legolas," he ordered.

“But.” Lomion hesitated, not sure how to word the words he wanted to say.

Thranduil gave a chilling smile. “Don’t worry. I will finish him off and meet you.”

Lomion nodded, motioning for five warriors to accompany him. “Take your time.” He pierced the Easterling with a cold look. Then turned and quickly ran down the hill and then along the riverbank.

Thranduil turned back to the Easterling, drawing out his sword. He gave the Easterling a chilling smile. “This would be the part when your tale in the book ends.” He said very casually.

The Easterling gave a low chuckle as they started to circle around each other. Each measuring the other’s strengths and weaknesses.

The Easterling was fully confident in his own abilities, Thranduil saw easily, and he had every single intention on making the creature suffer before he died. This creature had hurt his son. His youngest son, and for that, the creature would have to pay. And pay dearly.

*~*~*

Tasari stared at the paper, his mind focused elsewhere. Lomion had another elf for his position as did Adar, leaving him free to continue his own duties. But he couldn’t help but feel as thought he was rather worthless. After all, his two older brothers were deeply imbedded within the palace life inside and out; they decided many things so that the king wouldn’t have to. Lothgil ran the palace, making sure everything was clean even if she herself had to get on her hands and knees. She made sure the food was prepared and more importantly that it was good. Even Legolas knew more of the palace life than he. All he did was train horses. A small, insignificant, meaningless task that anyone could probably do.

He sighed, shutting the book. He was supposed to be learning how to teach Arielle’s horse tricks, but found that not even the fact of learning many new tricks could occupy his mind.

Lainiel and Miriwen both had imortant jobs as well. Miriwen was a healer, working full time in the healer’s ward because her husband was off on patrol. Lainiel took care of any important documents needed dictating, coping or anything else. She was in charge of the library and most of the secretarial work. 

And he was in charge of the horses. He idly began flipping pages not really looking for anything in particular when a sudden thought came to him. The horses that went on the South patrol usually never came back. Many of the riders had complained of them being spooked to easily.

His mind focused and fingers quickly flipping through the pages he found exactly what he needed. He knew how easily horses could scare, and if he could find a way for the horses to remain calm while a battle raged, he could possibly help save lives.

*~*~*

He was flying. It was a breath taking experience. Feeling the wind fly past you, taking your breath. He closed his eyes, even in the midst of so much pain, just to savor the feeling. And then he hit the water.

Luckily for him, the usual slow trickle of the small falls had been twice the normal amount because of the weeks rain before. The pool at the base was like a whirlpool, sucking him under then shooting him out to the rapids. It happened in such a few heartbeats that later Legolas would have difficultly even really remembering what had happened.

As the water closed over him, he couldn’t help but wonder at the lack of panic in him. He felt very calm, despite the fact his hands were still tied, his leg was badly broken and that he was being pushed very roughly over the stones on the riverbed. He tried to clear himself several times from the larger stones, succeeding more times than not.  He was whirled in circles as tiny whirlpools caught at his body. 

As the world spun sickeningly around him, he tried to kick with his one leg to shore, but with no success. He didn’t see the large log rushing towards him until it actually hit him. Panic rushed though him as the log forced him underwater, easily rolling over him. He could feel the rough bark scrape over his bare back and winced as any scabs that might have formed were torn off.

“LEGOLAS!!!!”

He forced himself up to the surface, kicking with all his might. He was getting tired from fighting the current.

“LEGOLAS!!!!”

He turned his head and his heart leapt when he saw Lomion racing along the bank. He tired calling out, but water rushed in his mouth making him cough. He noticed, rather vaguely that the water he spit out was pink in color.

The next thing he knew was someone pulling him out of the water, then everything went black.

*~*

“Dear Lothgil,

               I write to you rather guiltily. I know of your dislike for flowery words, and wrote them purposely in hopes that your love for me would diminish.

 Lothgil, I am a simple warrior. You are a princess. I am near death every day. I see death and I know that it could someday come to me. I do not want to marry you and then die. My people are leaving for the Valinor soon. It is not yet your time. You much many, many more years left here in Middle Earth. You and I weren’t meant to be, Lothgil. It was a dream. A dream that will never be fulfilled. I ask that we part as friends. It is to my utter shame that I lead you on. I beg your forgiveness.

                      I remain yours sincerely,

                              Thorinell

Lothgil let the letter fall gracefully to the floor. Tears slowly welling up in her pale blue eyes and falling down the smooth cheeks.

‘It was a dream Lothgil.’

More tears welled up.

‘It was a dream Lothgil.’

She absently wiped away a tear then stared at it. A dream. Was it truly just a dream? She closed her eyes and placed a hand over her heart. She listened to her heart beat several minutes. She cleared her mind of every single thought.

She reached within the compartment and took out the other letters from him. She gently caressed each one. Smoothing out the wrinkles, pressing a gentle kiss to each one.

She bit her lip as she fought back more tears. Had it all been a dream?

I don't want to run away but I can't take it, I don't understand
If I'm not made for you then why does my heart tell me that I am?
Is there any way that I can stay in your arms?

(If you’re not the one by Daniel Beddingfield)

*~*~*

As the Easterling took in the furious woodland king, he had a sudden feeling that he had dug a deep hole and was slowly burying himself in it.  Looking into the king’s eyes, the Easterling felt apprehension creep into his soul.

Legolas had inherited his Ada’s piercing blue-gray eyes. Very few humans or elves for that matter could hold such a piercing gaze especially when the person behind the lethal gaze was furious. Thranduil was furious. Yet he had all of his wits about him. He gave his sword a causal swing. And with a feral cry, attacked.

*~*~*

Lomion quickly cut the bonds still holding Legolas’ hands together. “Come on, Legolas.” Lomion murmured, pressing a hand on Legolas’ chest, feeling for a heartbeat. Finding a strong one, he sighed in relief, then whipping his cloak off bundled his little brother in it and with another warrior helping him rise, set back to the Easterling encampment.

A deep racking cough from the icy cold prince, focused the attention back upon him.

“Lomion?” Legolas whispered.

Lomion gently knelt down, allowing Legolas to rest on his knees.

“Shhhh. Don’t speak.” Lomion soothed.

“Ada?” Legolas ignored the half-command.

“He’s back fighting with the Easterling.” Lomion said quietly, not letting his worry show. Blood clearly dripped from the cloak and onto Lomion’s hands and front.

Another deep, body-racking cough from Legolas was enough for Lomion to set Legolas down on the ground. Two more cloaks quickly lying atop him.

“I’m cold Lomion.” Legolas rasped. “So cold.”

“Shhh.” Lomion began rubbing Legolas’ hands, trying to get warmth back in the cold body.  After a few moments he shook his head. “We have to get back to the tents.” He said.

The warriors looked at each other, the young prince was in serious danger then. Three of the warriors grabbed a corner and lifted the half-conscious prince up. The last two cloaks were swiftly piled on top of the shivering prince and they started off once again.

*~*~*

The Easterling stumbled back, gripping his shoulder. The deep slash had torn muscles and flesh. The blood quickly seeped from the wound and quickly dripped down his front. 

“You hurt my son.” Thranduil whispered suddenly, breaking the silence.

The Easterling smiled, a cold, evil smile. “It was my pleasure.”  That whelp needed some manners taught to him anyway.”

Their swords clashed. Both on the offense. As they both danced a dance they both knew, the Easterling suddenly realized something.

The elf was playing with him! He was toying with him!

*~*

The rasped breathing of Legolas tore a deep terrible feeling of helplessness within Lomion. He couldn’t do a thing. Not a single thing to ease his brother’s pain. All he could do was listen to his pain.

“Lomion?”

“Yes Legolas.”

After another deep cough, Legolas spoke again. “ I’m thirsty.”

Lomion halted. He couldn’t help it. He lifted the corner of one of the cloaks higher in order to see Legolas face. He looked terrible. His face was completely white, the bruises on his face stood out starkly contrasting against it. There was blood on the corner of his mouth, but yet he was smiling. He coughed, his face contorting in agony before smoothing out again.

“You’re joking.” Lomion stated.  He could see the white shoulders move up in a shrug.

“Sorry, I had to lighten you guys up. You look like you’re going to a funeral.”

Lomion shook his head. Even in so much pain, he could still make jokes.

*~*~*

There was no warning when Thranduil suddenly attacked, leaving the Easterling’s arm on the ground.

As the Easterling stared in shock at his lost arm, Thranduil attacked again, slicing off the other arm, then stepped back, a cold expression on his face.

Grasping the Easterling’s shoulder, he plunged his sword into the middle of his chest, and then pulled it out before the natural suction could take hold of the blade. The Easterling’s face twisted in agony. 

Thranduil gave the Easterling one last cold smile. “Die.” He hissed and with an easy swing, decapitated the Easterling.

He turned to see his oldest son and three warriors carrying a hastily made stretcher into a tent and without a single thought of anything else, rushed down to the tent. Desperate to see his sons.  

*~*~*

They gently lifted Legolas onto the soft bed. Two of the warriors quickly started a fire, while two more went to get wood and the last warrior went to get the healer. Lomion knelt next to the bed and started uncovering his little brother.

“Lomion?”

“Yes Legolas?”

“I’m sorry.”

Startled, Lomion looked up into the blue-gray eyes, so like his own. “What?”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have disobeyed Thalion’s orders, and then I wouldn’t be in this position.” His face twisted as a wave of pain racked his body. “And then you and ada wouldn’t have had to rescue me.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Lomion soothed.

Legolas coughed again, blood staining his bloodless lips. He reached up and causally wiped it away, then froze when he saw the blood on his hand. He turned a tortured gaze to Lomion.

“Don’t let me die.” He pleaded. “Don’t let me die here.”