Through Fire and Water (A Legolas Love Story)

Snow

It’s cold. Ok, so maybe I don’t feel the cold as much as the others because I’m an elf but I am pretty dam cold all the same.

Everyone gave up on talking a while ago and now we are trudging along in miserable silence, hunched up in our cloaks and attempting to retain as much body heat as possible. My ankle is throbbing and I am not very happy to say the least.

Suddenly Frodo falls down and rolls down the mountain, showering me with snow as he passes which is not what I needed. As he scrambles to his feet he rummages about in his pockets frantically, as if searching for something. I catch a gleam in the corner of my eye and turn to see Boromir bending down and picking something up. It's the ring. The look in Boromir’s eyes is frightening. It is just as it was at the council, only a hundred times worse; a mixture of fear, love, fascination and ambition plays there as he stares at the ring, as if he is bewitched.

“Boromir?” Aragorn says.

“It is a strange fate that we should suffer so much fear and doubt over so small a thing...such a little thing” Boromir says in a dreamy voice.

“Boromir…” I say, making no attempt to hide the concern in my voice.

“Boromir” Father says quietly but in a tone which allows no argument “Give the ring to Frodo”

Suddenly Boromir shakes his head, jolting out of the trance. “As you wish. I care not” He says, handing the ring back to Frodo and ruffling his hair. I let out a shaky breath that I hadn’t even realised I was holding and exchange a look with Father. His face shows the same concern that I am feeling, the same knot in his stomach.

We continue up the mountain, the ground getting steeper and steeper. At some point a wind starts to blow, chilling my exposed skin. It gets gradually stronger until it is a full on storm, ripping at our clothes, biting at our skin, blinding us with snow and forcing us to walk bent over so that we aren’t blown off our feet. The snow gets deeper and deeper and most of the fellowship have to wade through it however Legolas and I, being elves, can simply walk over the top, which is nice.

I can hear something through the wind. It’s a voice. I can’t quite make out the words but it is definitely a voice. I run up to Legolas “Can you hear that?” I say right into his ear so he can hear me above the wind.

“Yes” he replies and then he calls out to the others “There is a fell voice on the air!”

“It’s Saruman!” Gandalf yells. There is a loud rumble above us and some small rocks fall from the mountainside.

“He’s trying to bring down the mountain!” Father calls “Gandalf, we must turn back!”

“No!” Gandalf replies and then he begins chanting into the wind, competing with Saruman. Suddenly there is a crash of lightning above us and a huge amount of snow breaks lose, crashing down towards us. I see it a fraction of a second before the others and in that time I manage to grab Legolas’s arm and shove him towards the cliff face and then grab Gandalf down from the ledge where he was standing and shove him after the elf before leaping there myself, hoping to escape the worst of the snowfall.

The avalanche hits like a tonne of bricks, forcing me to the floor where I fall on my bad ankle. Before I can gasp in pain however, the snow is everywhere. It covers me, burying me in freezing fluff. When I try to breathe in all I get is snow. I feel the snow stop falling on top of me but when I try to clamber free I find that I don’t know which way is up and which is down, everything is white. I can barely move my arms and I am still sitting on my bad ankle and I can’t shift my weight to help me to try and stand up. I can’t breathe, little black spots begin to swim in front of my eyes and I feel really dizzy as I desperately try to stop myself hyperventilating. I accidentally breathe in more snow and my body manages to sort of half cough, blowing any oxygen I had left out of my body. The snow above me is so heavy, pressing down on me, crushing me. Panic starts to set in and I imagine myself dying here, unable to move or breathe. But suddenly I feel the weight lessen slightly. I hear strange scrambling noises and then suddenly feel hands on my shoulders as someone heaves me out of the snow, turning my head I see it’s Legolas. I flop onto the ground like a landed fish and take an enormous breath in, feeling the air filling my lungs, and then start coughing violently, desperately trying to draw breath between the coughs as the little black spots in my vision become more and more pronounced and I feel my eyes involuntarily starting to close. Eventually the coughing stops and I lie, panting, on the snow, trying to get enough oxygen in my body before I pass out. I close my eyes for a moment, focussing on breathing, and when I open them again I see 9 anxious faces looking at me. Most concerned of all is father who is kneeling beside me, Legolas is kneeling next to him.

“Are you ok?” Father asks, helping me as I slowly try to sit up.

“I think so” I say shakily. I lean forward and hug him. Only Legolas is close enough to see how tightly I squeeze him, clinging to my father as I relive those horrifying moments.

“It’s ok. You’re safe now. I’ve got you” He murmurs softly into my ear, stroking my hair with one hand and holding me tightly with the other.

“I was so scared dad” I whisper into his ear, loud enough for only him to hear “I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. I thought I was going to die” My voice is trembling and I feel like a child again, consumed with fear.

“I know. But you didn’t. You are safe with me and I’m not going to let anything happen to you, Ana, I promise” Father soothes me and I relax my grip on him slightly but I don’t let him go. I need him here, I need him to make everything alright like when I was a little kid waking up from a nightmare and he made the horrors go away.

Flashback

Aragorn’s P.O.V.

The moon is shining in through my bedroom window as I lie in bed. I’m exhausted but I can’t sleep, no matter what position I lie in or how many times I plump up my pillows. Not even the sound of the stream which runs by the house can lull me to sleep like it usually can. I guess it’s just going to be one of those nights. I sigh and sit up, swinging my legs out of the bed and getting to my feet. The fire in the fireplace has burnt low and I decide to build it up a little. If I’m going to be up all night I might as well have some decent light. The stone floor is cold and it makes me shiver as I kneel in front of the fireplace, picking up the poker. I give it a couple of jabs and embers fly around the room as the fire greedily accepts the new logs I give it. The flames slowly begin to lick around the wood and I watch, mesmerised.

The sound of little feet on stone floor makes me look up from the fireplace and towards the door. The hinges creak slightly as it swings open to reveal 5 year old Ariana. Her dark brown hair is tousled and her long, white nightdress is crumpled from tossing and turning.

“What are you doing up?” I ask her in a gentle voice “It’s late, you should be in bed”

“I had a nightmare” She whispers, looking fearfully out of the door as if her voice might warn the horrors of her dreams of her location.

“Oh sweetheart” I say, getting to my feet and moving towards her. She runs towards me and I scoop her up in my arms. She is trembling slightly and her hair is damp with sweat. I can see her lower lip quivering in the firelight as she buries her face in my shoulder, emitting soft gasping sounds as she cries. I carry her over to the fireplace and sit down in an armchair, holding her close. I let her cry for a moment before turning her around to face me. “Now” I say gently “Tell me about this nightmare”

“It was the wargs again” she explains quietly “They were going to get me; and they wanted to kill me, like they had killed the grown-ups”

“It’s ok Ana” I say “You’re safe. The wargs won’t get you here. I’m not going to let anything hurt you. I promise” I hug her close, trying to sooth both her and me. A single tear slides down my face as I feel her trembling in my arms. Ana is so precious to me, I love her like she is my own daughter; I hate seeing her like this. I wish she didn’t have these dreams. I wish I could spare her the pain and the fear. But I can’t, all I can do is pick up the pieces every time. She’s had this dream before, it’s all she seems able to dream about. She doesn’t know it, but it isn’t a dream, it really happened. The grown-ups the wargs killed are her parents. It's a memory she chose to forget, the dreams are her brain's way of trying to remind her of what happened.

I reach out to the table next to the chair and pick up a folded blanket which I shake out and then drape over Ana and me.

“Go to sleep” I whisper.

“But I don’t want to dream again. I don’t want the wargs to come back” She says, her voice trembling.

“It’s ok. They won’t. I won’t let them” I say and she looks into my eyes and decides I am telling the truth because she leans her head against my chest, snuggling down into the warmth of the blanket. Just as her eyes are closing and she is drifting off to sleep, she says one more thing that melts my heart.

“I love you daddy” She whispers.

“I love you too Ana”

End of flashback