The Stars Are Veiled (Lord Of the Rings Fanfiction) #adifferentworld

The Darkness Won at Last

Thranduil nodded and then tightened his grip on his son. His brows furrowed deeply. "Come back to me, ion nin. I shall not be at rest till I see your face."

Legolas awoke with a start from the tender memory. He groaned as the pain from his numerous wounds sparked to life again. Shadowfax whinnied, drawing his attention into the gathering darkness around him. Even Shadowfax could not race the veil shadowing the earth's surface. Legolas could still see the blue sky, many leagues ahead of him, but the wispy fingers of black clouds were encroaching upon the pure blue, like ivy that ensnares a tree. Legolas turned to his left, and the sight shot a knife through his heart.

Across the Field of Celebrant, many leagues away, Lothlorien, the Golden Wood, stood in flames. With his elven sight he could see the leaping heights of the Flames twist themselves up the sacred mallorn trees. The air above the forest was glittering with the burning golden leaves, almost as if golden fire was falling from the sky.

Lothlorien had fallen, and the White Lady who ruled the realm could do nothing, for the ring in her possession served the One now back in the care of its true master.

He cried out loud with lamentation then, no longer heeding the cries that had kept him silent this entire time. His heart was broken, his soul damaged, and if it was not for his final mission he would have given up. Only his father and the Woodland Realm kept him alive now. With a yell, he pushed Shadowfax on, determined to get there in time to see his home again.

They had left Imladris all together, all eight of them. Frodo Baggins, the Ringbearer and hobbit, led the way, followed by Gandalf the Grey Wizard. Mithrandir, they called him in the elven tongue. Gimli son of Gloin, a dwarf, and Boromir son of Denethor, a man, accompanied Merry and Pippin, the two other hobbits from the Shire. Aragorn, the Hope of Men, commonly known among elves as Estel, brought the back of the group along with himself, Legolas. The journey had started well, with many merry times and good weather.

They lost Gandalf in the Mines of Moria.

They lost Boromir at Tol Brandir on Amon Hen.

Pippin and Merry were captured by Urúk-Hai the same day.

Frodo set off to Mordor on his own, all by himself with no one to watch him or guard him. He set off in a boat when everyone was fighting the Urúk-Hai. Legolas guessed he had not wanted to be a burden to anyone. Aragorn, himself, and Gimli continued on the path of the orcs, trying to rescue Merry and Pippin.

But if Frodo had only waited, or taken someone along with him...

And although Gandalf came back, seemingly from the dead, and Merry and Pippin were rescued and in good health, all was lost. At the final battle at the Black Gate, Sauron revealed his power with the doom of all.

The One Ring of Power was once again around his finger.

Legolas awoke again, trembling with cold sweat. He laid a hand to his head. It was feverish. The wounds crisscrossing his body burned with fire. He could still see, burned into his vision, the black form of Sauron, glittering in the sun with deadly malice. He could see the Ringwraiths, tearing through the army of men like wind tears through grass. The ranks of the army had fallen around him, leaving only the bravest.

Gimli, his loyal friend had gone first, facing down the giant demon lord before him. Legolas wanted to help him, to take any of the pain of death that was certain to come the dwarve's way, but he was halfway buried beneath a corpse of a troll. With a great dwarvish battle cry, Gimli heaved his battle axe towards Sauron. It shattered before it even hit its mark. Legolas could do nothing but watch in horror as Gimli's head was tossed to the ground, and crushed underneath the dark lord's feet.