The Ghost Warrior [Legolas Fan Fic]

Chapter Twenty-Two

This chapter finishes off the climax of this book. There will be a short but important chapter after this one and then just a few more till I finish this story. I am considering continuing this version of Legolas I have created, and was wondering if any of you would be interested in seeing a prequel or sequel to this one (maybe both). Let me know!

~Zelinith

Gathering his strength together for one last attack, Thranduil managed to bring his longsword up in time to redirect Morohtar's sword, getting sliced in the chest instead of the head. He ignored the pain, using the chance of having the other elf distracted in order to deliver a strong kick to the chest, watching as Morohtar fell back, his sword tumbling out of reach. In a flash Thranduil was perched above him, stabbing one longsword through the left side of the elf's chest, the other poised beneath his throat.

The Elven King and the Ghost Warrior were both aware of the spot the longsword had hit, knowing that only moments were now left for the dark elf. It became quiet then, the only sound to be heard was the heavy breathing of one and the choking of the other.

Thranduil sat back to the side of his enemy, the longswords falling from his hands. He had done it, avenged his only child, but that didn't make ending another elf's life any easier. His eyes gazed at Morohtar, watching the elf take ragged breaths as he choked on his own blood. There was some guilt to be felt, although he knew that there was no other way this could have played out.

Suddenly, Morohtar's head rolled to the side, his eyes locking onto Thranduil's own.

"Y-you have won m-my game..." he stuttered softly, "How d-disappointing..." The elf closed his eyes as pain wracked through his chest. He only had mere moments left, but there were things that needed to be said.

"I-I made a wrong m-move, b-but I don't r-regret it." A cough. "You p-played fair, a-and I admire you for t-that. Know t-this, Elven King." A few more coughs. A bit more blood. "T-there will b-be more who will come for your son. T-this is not the end." A deep breath. A wheeze. "Watch h-him, and see what he does..."

Thranduil watched quietly as Morohtar took one final breath and then fell still. No matter the enemy, death did not come easy to elves, especially when it was own of their own kind. The King sighed, knowing that if he hadn't killed the elf and let him go or imprisoned him, he would have likely managed to cause havoc again.

Lost in his own thoughts, he was startled when he felt Celeborn's hand on his shoulder, turning to see that the Lord had knelt behind him. Letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was still holding on to, he faced Morohtar once more.

"The Ghost Warrior is dead." Was all he uttered.

Celeborn sighed, his mind running through everything that the elf had said before he died. He knew that his wife was semi-aware of Legolas' bigger role in the future or Middle-Earth, but what exactly that was she was unsure of. But knowing that there were others out there like Morohtar who had similar knowledge was unsettling, and made it all the more important to keep the Prince safe.

As thoughts like these continued to go through his mind, Thranduil was experiencing similar ones, although there were more hectic. The main thing was the state his son was in. He did not know what his Greenleaf's condition was like and was worried that what Morohtar had mentioned earlier would pose to be true. And if his son did indeed die, he knew that he would most certainly follow him.

The two sat in silence, each lost in their own minds, surrounded by the corpses of their foes. It was a grim sight, but not unusual in the Age that they now lived in.

A commotion from outside the chamber drew the attention of both elves, causing them to stand and lift their swords once more. Celeborn, who was closer to the main gate, stepped forward, peering down the corridor. His eyes widened and a gasp escaped him.

"Thranduil," he said hurriedly, "Help me open this gate."

With a questioning look, the Elven King came to his side and together the two elves turned the handle, the gate slowly creaking open. Just as they finished lifting the door, a group appeared before them from the side corridor. At the sight of them, Thranduil dropped his longswords.

"Ion-nin." His voice was hoarse.

Elrond walked up to Thranduil, gently placing his precious bundle into the waiting arms of the King. Galadriel was leaning onto Mithrandir behind them, a smile on her fair face. Celeborn rushed over to her side, bringing her into his own arms.

Looking up into the Peredhel's eyes, Thranduil asked him a silent question, too afraid to speak.

"He's going to be alright, mellon-nin." And the Elven King knew without a doubt that Elrond was not lying.

With tears in his eyes, he glanced down at his Greenleaf. Although he was battered and a tad broken, he knew that they would make it through this. His son had proven to be far stronger than most would have thought possible, but that only meant he would come back from this even better than before.

It still pained Thranduil to know that he had come so close to losing the last piece of his wife that she had left him. For some reason, though, he didn't feel as much guilt as before. Regardless, Legolas was back and he wouldn't be letting go of him anytime soon.

As the group elves and Maiar reunited, Glorfindel and Erestor appeared in the main doorway, covered in black blood with concerned looks on their faces. At the sight of the Prince in the King's arms, they immediately relaxed, feeling their worry slowly dissipate.

Before they could go up to Elrond and see what he would like to be done next, the wizard came over and drew them both to the side.

"What do you need, Mithrandir?" Glorfindel asked.

"I would like you both to go down and check on something that was left in the cells." The Maiar glanced behind him, feeling as though he was being watched. Shaking it off, he turned back to the two elves. "I believe that he may be the answer to many questions we haven't been able to answer and to those that have now come forward."

Erestor gave Mithrandir a look. "If you don't mind me asking, what state have you left this person in?"

The wizard chuckled. "Well, if you must know he wasn't being very cooperative so I was forced to use my magic. And of course I had to knock him on the head for good measure as well. But he was still breathing, I only incapacitated him, nothing more."

The two elves only looked at one another shaking their heads before heading down the corridor. As Mithrandir watched them go, the feeling of being watched returned to him once more. A shiver ran down his spine.

He didn't think they would find him alive anymore.