Unlikely Rescue

Chapter 19 - Life or Death

Gulping, he glanced around at Îdhír, standing behind him. Trapped.

No. I'm free, remember?

Free.

With Aragorn. Where's Aragorn? Then he saw again the human falling, and the feeling that had accompanied the horrifying vision... it was as though a piece of his heart, the only part uncontaminated by Thranduil's 'punishments', had been ripped out.

And if the human died, he would never recover that lost part of himself.

Legolas was jerked from his reverie by a hand on his arm. It was Îdhír.

"You alright lad?"

Legolas turned, nodding numbly and saw what Îdhir held in his arms.

Pale, lifeless seeming skin was stretched tautly over prominent bones, as though the wound had sucked all being from the body, and lifeless silver eyes were glazed, staring blankly into the white sky. Dark hair framed a too-pale face, bringing out the whiteness even more prominently A tattered cloak fluttered weakly, hopelessly in the powerful wind.

Legolas stumbled, falling to his knees. He can't be dead... I can't have... I can't have killed him, can I?

Murderer. The word which had haunted him for most of his life echoed dully in his mind. Aragorn was gone. Dead. The world was empty without the only person he could trust. He was alone, alone in a strange world he had never known, and so helpless. So small.

So alone.

A gentle hand on his shoulder made him glance up, instinctively flinching away from the touch of another who wasn't Aragorn. He glared at Tinu, then shrank back, an apology which had been drilled into him on his tongue, not because he knew what he had done wrong this time: he didn't, but because it was best to pretend that he did, when Tinu spoke, his voice low and dangerous.

"You say you did this? It's you're fault he's..." his voice trailed off, and Legolas could only stare at him in gut-wrenching fear and guilt.

"Y-Yes. He took the arrow for - for me." He finished miserably. This elf reminded him too much of Thranduil with his harsh words and violence, although Legolas sensed something different about him, something buried beneath the stress and anger. Something beautiful to Thranduil's ugly, light to Thranduil's dark. Something pure to Thranduil's evil.

And when he put it like that, he realised Tinu wasn't like Thranduil. It didn't mean Legolas liked him: he didn't. It didn't mean Legolas wasn't terrified of him: he was. But it did mean that Legolas could bear him, at least for now. Even if it was difficult.

Legolas turned his attention back to the elf in question, because Tinu was talking again. "I swear to the Valar, if he dies, I'll kill you! I'll kill you!"

He made to smack Legolas again, but the elfling ducked, and Îdhír grabbed the fuming elf's hand.

"Stop it! We have bigger problems to worry about. Look at..."

But Legolas didn't hear the rest. Tinu had said "If he dies". If he dies. He wasn't already dead?

The moment the realisation hit him he scrambled to his feet. Not alone! Not alone!

He stumbled towards the human, and upon reaching him, took in the deathly pale skin, breathless chest and glazed eyes. Was he really-

But then he breathed. It was a shaky, shallow breath, almost unnoticeable, but it was there. Aragorn was there. Aragorn was alive!