"There is no path beyond the scope of light, beyond the reach of dark... What could possibly await us? And yes, we seek it, insatiably... such is our Fate."
- Aldia, Dark Souls 2: Scholar of the First Sin.
◤──•~❉᯽❉~•──◥
Rain fell when the orcs came. It was a bleak scene, barely anything was visible now that the moon was hidden by the clouds. The Orcs gain strength at night, and that was a lesson [Y/n] was gonna learn the hard way. She treaded up to her post along side the King, staying silent as the rain battered on her hair, sticking it to her face. She clenched her hands, hearing the rumble of marching orcs draw nearer, her eyes closely making out that several of them were Uruk-Hai's.
The moment is near... she felt her chest thump against her ears, drowning out the noise of the battering rain, leaving her only to her senses. As the orcs began to chant and bat their weapons on the grounds, she could detect their putrid scent waft into her nose, and it never occurred to her how real this situation was. She is about to go to war, and possibly end up in a tale like the ones she read from millennia's ago; how tragically blood had been spilt, blood of innocent men who only wished to go home to their wives and children.
In that moment, she felt tempted to run away and never look back, but catching a glimpse of the young warriors who stood some ways below her, her heart drummed with guilt. She would never forgive herself if they died. Her teeth still chattered, though, no matter how hard she tried to remind herself why she was fighting. For Gondor, for peace! She reminded herself, taking in a deep breath. For friends... her eyes flickered to Legolas and Gimli, even spotting Aragorn nearby with the archers.
As if to check on her, she saw Legolas glance back at her, nodding to himself as he turned back around. She mentally stuck her tongue out at him, narrowing her eyes at his blonde head angrily... but shortly, a sense of penitence swelled in her when the Orcs began to chant and hit the ground unanimously louder. Without realising, she had been crying. Maybe some rain had gotten in her eyes, but she couldn't deny the warm salty droplet that trailed down her cheek onto her lips. She knows now, that she would cry if Legolas died.
Oddly, she could make out some of the words the Orcs were saying, and it terrified her greatly — why on earth would she know such a dark language? Her grip nervously tightened on her spear, which she received from Gimli when he bid her good luck.
Her mind recounted the way they hugged before leaving for their posts. He smelled of old people and sweat, as well as a hint of tobacco. It was a welcoming smell, and it reminded her of Gandalf in many ways. For some reason, Gandalf and Gimli were the type of men you wouldn't care about "appropriate modesty" with, because they are like siblings to you, not potential spouses or lustful buffoons. It was the same with the Hobbits, to her they will remain children in her eyes, even if it was a rude thought, she could never bring herself to think of them as anything more. She smiled sadly when her thoughts went to Gandalf and the Hobbits. I will return to you, old friend... she promised herself, biting her lips to keep herself from crying. Aragorn even shared a tender moment with her, thanking her for joining the cause and fighting by their side; he mentioned Arwen's trust in her, and that he was willing to lay his life down to protect a good friend from harm. The sentiment brought tears to her eyes, but she refused to cry in front of the enigmatic leader, wanting to look tough in front of the him and instead roughly patted him on the back, earning a chuckle from him...
As for Legolas, he only bowed to her like nobles do in council meetings, leaving any hint of emotion out of the question. She didn't bow back, instead she nodded to him like men do to each other when they greet — she reckoned it would convey the same message. Somewhere in his eyes, though... he looked scared. She only caught a glimpse of it before he left, but she will never let that image go. If only we hugged, you darn elf. Always pestering me like a pup, yet you refuse to show anything more than formality with me. She couldn't stop the tears from falling, and as if to snap herself out of it, she pinched herself in the cheek with her gloved hand.
A shrill screech echoed in the night air, the chant of the orcs stopping abruptly. Her heart plummeted to her stomach, and she jumped to ready a spell, fumbling her spear in her hands.
"So, it begins." Théoden could be heard saying grimly, and [Y/n] could almost shit herself as she heard the crowd roar into attack, soldiers immediately preparing their arrows and hastily drawing their shields. She was glad that Elves had joined them last minute, but it was still a small addition to an already small army. From what she could see, the Orc army looked ten times larger than theirs.
The special spell she had been keeping up her sleeve began to brew in her chattering mouth, but she was hesitant in releasing it. If she failed, she would get badly injured, or worse, die. She decided against using it for now, and instead resorted to some spells she had used on the creature of Moria, leaving her spear in her least dominant hand.
"Take that!" She shrieked, slashing her hand in the air, red streaks of plasma riding out in lightning speed, hitting Orcs in the middle grounds. However, in her dramatic casting (where she whipped her hands in front of her like she was in an invisible knife duel) she accidentally tripped over the ledge of her platform, plummeting into some scaffolding. Rushing to her feel, she dusted herself off and ignored the dull ache that began to throb in her posterior. Luckily her armour had caught most of the brunt, but she still limped a little.
She hopped down to the level Legolas and Gimli were situated on, choosing a spot where she will be able to shoot out her spells safely. Standing on some scaffold, she used more of her plasma spells, cutting the heads off many enemies, and even knocking some back from their ladders as they attempted to climb the wall. She could almost laugh from how they screamed and fell back, scattering like rats.
She could hear Gimli barking something to Legolas, not yet noticing her presence. What the... are they playing a game? She blinked in shock, mentally noting their oddly cheery behaviour, seeing how smug Legolas looked. It seemed he didn't notice her either, which was good in itself — it means she can continue keeping her ground here rather than next to the king where her aim wasn't the best.
Before she could shoot another plasma spell, an arrow came whistling towards her. Gasping, she held her arms up against her head, and it luckily deflected against the metal. That was close! She thought while hyperventilating, and tried to remember the words for a shield spell.
"AH!" She exclaimed as more arrows came flying her way — it looked like the Orcs noticed her before her friends could, and were trying to take her out as quickly as possible. Blurting out the shield spell, a screen of light resembling a red silk sheet had appeared before her, stopping the arrows mid air. Not knowing what to do with them, she just dropped the arrows, and the men gratefully took some for themselves underneath her. Her head was beginning to throb, the more she spat out her spells, but with sheer force, she soldiered on and ignored it like it wasn't even there.
Unfortunately, some orcs have come pouring in from her left, rushing particularly to her. Gulping the lump in her throat, she shot some of them with simple shards that fabricated from her digits, piercing into their armour and some even managing to nestle into their necks. Slowly, her feet shuffled backwards as the orcs drew closer to her, no matter how much she shot at them with her magic.
Legolas noticed the peculiar pattern the orcs ran in, and looked to his right, wondering why they're trying to siege the East wing. Much to his horror, he saw [Y/n]'s struggling figure, looking like she was getting swarmed from where he stood.
"[Y/n]!" He called to her, but she didn't hear him, too busy dealing with her own mess. He couldn't pay too much attention to her before being attacked again by a snarling goblin, distracting him from her.
"Arg!" She grunted as a large Uruk-Hai, resembling a grown man had striked at her with a hefty halberd, missing her by an inch and embedding his blade on the scaffolding beneath them, creaking it underneath her as he struggle to get it out. She shot him quickly in the skull, but his heavy weight fell on the now tumbling platform, sending her to the ground face first. She quickly scrambled up to her feet and shot more shards at the oncoming orcs or any dark figure that neared her, stumbling back from them as they drew closer and closer each time one fell dead. She refused to call for help, not willing to get anyone hurt for her own sake.
Eventually, the last one had gotten to her, and almost cut her hand clean off! She screamed, striking at it with her fist, which had luckily knocked its helmet clean off. Unfortunately, she was still cornered, and the soldiers on her side had scrambled away to the more troubling areas of the battlefield, leaving her standing completely alone.
"You damned beast!" She scowled, deciding it was time to unleash her special curse.
The Orc merely snarled at her in a mocking manner, even laughing at her as he drew near with his scabbard at the ready.
"Atesh as poiem, awo da destem, bolohbyor da ohsmon, amroyeh Behesht megardom." She hissed, glowing red smoke rising from her soles and palms, lifting her high into the air like she was flying. Shaking, she balanced herself and ignored the searing pain that began in her lungs, letting out more shards at the Orc that now cowered before her.
"Time to repay your debts." The shadow appeared before her, smiling wickedly. She gasp, almost faltering mid air. She noticed the pale moon had begun to peek through the thick black clouds and her face contorted into pure terror. 'You will return this deed in the next moon...' her thoughts relayed the shades omen, and she began to panic as the air grew thicker around her, making it hard to focus. The shadow lunged into her chest, entering her body and effectively knocking her out of control.
Like all senses had faded, all she could do was watch in an abyss as it took the reigns and willed her body to do its own bidding.
No! She screamed, but nothing came out of her mouth. Instead, a horrible cackle erupted from her stomach. Her body flew out with more efficiency, like it had gained vast more experience in its art than [Y/n] herself. Stuck in the black void, she watched as it conjured spells she's never heard of and attack the Orc army beneath her — even stopping massive boulders midair and sending flying back towards the enemy catapults! She felt glad that it was at least killing the enemy, but she grew uneasy I from being so vulnerable.
Amidst the chaos, Gimli pointed at her and said something she couldn't understand. Legolas saw her too, and looked horrified.
Her body didn't even give her the time to look at them, as it focused on the large flock of arrows flying right at her. Her hands twisted before her and whipped around the air, summoning a larger and more potent shield, somehow stopping all of them and redirecting them right back at the screeching archer goblins. She cheered inside the blank chasm of her mind, hearing a low chuckle escape the lips of her body.
"[Y/n]!" She hears her name, and through great effort, she managed to will her body to look behind her to Legolas, who stood high on the ledge and stared directly at her like a wild deer. Her body growled, shooting a shard at the elf. [Y/n] screamed, but was relieved to see it had missed him. She was guessing it was a warning shot, but still battled her body to do her own wills.
"Quiet, you fool! Let me have my fun!" It roared, and cast a fire of great intensity, sending it plunging down onto the army before her, exploding as it made contact with the ground, parts of Orc flying into multiple directions.
Please, don't harm my friends!
"Ha! You find these imbeciles to be your friends? Pathetic. I should smite them now, if only to do you another favour!" She cackled, sending another orb of flame onto the dark army.
No! No!!! She bellowed, struggling against the reigns of the abyss, and through her mental battle, she forced her hands back into her control, willing herself to draw back.
She couldn't find enough balance with just her hands, and ended up crash landing into the wall, still battling the shadow that wouldn't relent.
"You mooncalfed worm! You'll be the death of the both of us!"
I don't care! This is my body, and I will do what I want with it. She growls, pushing herself back into power, successfully kicking out the shadow. Before she could rejoice, she quickly found that she was no longer floating, and was instead plummeted down the wall and into the first circle of the fortress. Blasted magic... she groaned, getting up with the very little energy she had left. Like a wave of scalding water had overcome her, her body erupted in pain and reduced her to a screaming mess. I don't get it! Why am I in pain?!
She shakily got up, limping to the entrance gate, where soldiers tried their hardest to keep the gate closed.
"Because, you're weak." The voice whispered in her mind, and she winced.
Uttering the levitation spell again, she clumsily flew up to see that the other side of the gate was getting swarmed by a whole streamline of orcs, and some cave trolls too! Using more menial plasma lines — her skill abundantly less great than the shadow's, she cut through some of them and managed to buy time for Aragorn and Gimli, who she had noticed were fighting them back at the door.
An arrow which appeared as if from nowhere whistled from her left and pierced into her arm, sending her howling in pain. She began to waver in the air, starting to fall. The shadow took this opportunity to take the reigns again, and pushed [Y/n] out to leave her cowering in the void for a final time.
"You will pay for defying me." It said in her voice, and attacked her own people! [Y/n] cried for her to stop, but it was too late, the ball of fire had set many innocent men ablaze, sending them screaming and throwing themselves over the wall from the sheer agony it gave them. Luckily some of them had jumped into the flooded grounds, and drowned the flames, but she could still see some had perished to the flame.
Her body laughed darkly, and proceeded to conjure more complicated spells each attack, killing more Orcs than [Y/n] could ever fathom. The arrow in her right arm still sent pain ringing through her entire body, but the shadow somehow didn't even acknowledge it, not even once. She continued to blow damage after damage onto the waves of foes, succumbing them to death each time they faced her wrath. The battle was slowly being won.
[Y/n] saw no reason to fight it anymore, and let the shadow take full control of her, even if every time she was injured, it would deal the blow to her instead. She curled up into a ball, as her skin grew darker at her fingertips, travelling from her elbows in disgusting red veins, until it reached her shoulders. Every spell thrown, was a lash of iron to [Y/n], it would grow the dark in her substantially, but the shadow that controlled her cared little for this fact.
"It is almost over..." it said, which baffled her even in her painful state. It sounded like it was reassuring her, but she couldn't trust it enough to give it that doubt. Her eyes grew heavy, till she could no longer keep them open even for a second.
Promise you won't hurt my friends. Please... she says, her world growing darker than it already was. The shadow chuckled, telling her to shush and rest her head.
"Rest now... you've done well enough," is the last thing she heard before all went black.
𐮛 The top of the rise Helm's Deep 𐮛
"Where is [Y/n]? I do not see her among you," Gandalf asks Aragorn, who looked to the horizon of the battle, wondering the same thing. Haldir stood beside him, and watched Gandalf's eyes grow stormy as the silence grew.
"She hasn't been seen since the riders came," Gimli chimed in, looking upon Gandalf with misty eyes. He assumed the worst has come to her, and didn't want to utter the word he thought so obviously... death.
"Are you certain? Did you even search?" Gandalf retorted, feeling anger boil in his bones; angry at the devastation this war has brought, and angry that he hadn't had the chance of seeing her again. Legolas frowned, trying his best to spot her among the crowd of dead orcs and men, unable to find anything resembling [Y/n]. He remembers how strange she acted in this battle, and how vastly different her eyes gleamed at him. It was like she had put on a mask of enmity, unleashing her full potential — which did benefit them greatly, but to him he sensed that it wasn't good tidings at all.
"I will search for her," he declares, getting ready to set off, but Gandalf stopped him before he could even turn his heel. Gandalf looked at him with great warning in his eyes, lowering his voice only for him to hear.
"If she acts in any way strange, do not go near her. Send for me immediately," he commands, and it took the elf a second to comprehend him. He nodded anyway, turning away troubled. King Théoden watched as the elf mounted his horse swiftly, heading down the mountain to the lower grounds, looking to the highest circle of the structure.
"Terrible news it would be, if she turns out dead." he utters, grabbing Gandalf's shoulder. He held his head low and clenched his staff with both his hands. "The witch fought valiantly, and I would like to thank her personally for her efforts," he explains, leaving his old friend alone after that. Gandalf grunted, watching Legolas's fleeting figure darkly, wondering every possibility of where she could be.
There was no sign of her, only remnants of her magic here and there, with singed stoned and shards of a strange red crystal he had seen her shoot amidst the battle.
He picked one up, feeling it was still warm in his hand, and studied the smooth material. It gleamed rich crimson lights under the sun, and for some reason, he could feel it tremor in his fingers. Dropping it, he was surprised to see it shatter into a million pieces, eventually decaying into dust, like it hadn't existed at all.
This spread panic all over his body, now more eager to find her.
He rode down the second circle, back where he had first seen her start her miraculous flight. It stunned many onlookers — even the orcs gazed at her in wonder before trying desperately to kill her, but it gave him such a rotten feeling inside and he couldn't figure out why.
"[Y/n]!" He called out, cupping his hand to his mouth. There was no response.
Where could she be? He wondered, continuing to the lower grounds. Still no sign of her.
He strained his eyes to every detail, but to no avail. She was nowhere to be seen.
A shuffle alerted him, his eyes darting to the direction it came from. It was in one of the lower rooms of the structure, and quickly he dismounted his horse to jog into the dark open door.
"[Y/n]?" He called out again, hoping to hear her respond.
Silence.
"Damned witch... couldn't you have stuck with the others?" He gritted, clenching his fists as his eyes scanned the tore down room. In the deepest corner of the abode, he squinted his eyes after noticing a strange outline in it.
There stood [Y/n], watching him through cold eyes and a deep glower.
"[Y/n]! You're alive!" He breathed out in relief, but was quick to become uncomfortable in her presence as she continued to remain silent and glare daggers at him. "Are you alright?" He asked, frowning at her cautiously.
She stepped forward, and he gasped, seeing she was covered head to toe in blood, multiple arrows stuck into her armour, and torn fabric revealing gushing wounds on her legs.
"Why have you come?" She finally spoke, her eyes looking like they were accusing him. Her voice sounded deeper than usual, retaining an underlying maliciousness to it like she had poison in her breath.
"Why wouldn't I?" He whispered back, baffled by her behaviour.
She didn't respond after that, and walked past him carelessly. He chased after her, grabbing her hand to stop her, but she pulled back harshly, looking at him with a vicious glare.
"Do not touch me, you viper! Anything from you is a curse to my state." She hissed, snarling her teeth at him. After that, she flew away out of his sight. He stood there, completely stunned with what she had said.
He couldn't imagine what had made her turn so vindictive, but he couldn't help the sting of remorse that began in his chest as he stood there by himself, knowing that it was most definitely his own doing. She would always speak to him rudely even before, but this time it felt less light hearted and more dangerous. It was like she hated his entire being, from the way her eyes gleamed malignantly at him under the red sun.
Looking to the skies, he prayed to the Valar to guide him through this journey, as he no longer knew what to trust in. She had shown kindness and humility many times in the month that he's known her, but she began to show him new colours that even his father couldn't predict from her... Galadriel's words relayed in his mind like an echo.
"Trust in her heart, and release her from her shackles. She is as much a slave to the dark as you are to the earth... do not hold it against her," — but, it made little sense to him.
How could he continue to trust anyone's words if none of them made sense? Not his own, not his fathers... only fate can tell him now.
𐮛 ...Back in the safety of Meduseld 𐮛
[Y/n] awoke to the smell of cotton and medicinal salves, her senses finally coming back to her. She rose from her bed groggily looking around to the bustling med bay. She groaned, feeling her entire body covered in gauze and bandages, that were soaked in old blood. She gasped as she tried to lift her arms, feeling them sear with a burning ache even at the slight lift of a finger. Her armour was discarded on the floor beside her, and her clothes underneath were cut in some places that stung like hell.
She couldn't remember her last memory, and strained her head to recount her steps... she felt her soul leave her body as she realised what had happened. The battle of Helm's Deep, and the shadows possession.
A cry left her lips as she came to the horrifying realisation; that she had been under its hold during the entire thing. She grimaced, wondering how she must have acted, trying her best to remember any slight detail of what happened after she had faded. She could only recall faint blurs of events, and echoes of voices all around her, calling her name, screaming for help and some even asking if she was ok. She trembled in her spot, desperately holding her hands together in prayer, hoping that the shadows actions had not affected her terribly.
"You were out cold for several hours." Spoke a familiar voice, and her head snapped to her right, seeing Gandalf near her and sit himself down on her bed.
"Gandalf! What happened! No, don't tell me... I'm so sorry, please!" She sobbed, clinging onto his white robe. He only smiled at her reassuringly, patting her head and letting her lie back.
"You need to heal, [Y/n]. You fought well, I heard," he cooed, which brought relief to [Y/n] immediately.
"Thank the stars! Where is Gimli? And Aragorn? And Legolas!" She continued, not caring about how much her limbs and head cried with pain.
"They do well. I am going to take them to Isengard soon, to meet Saruman at his door with his punishment," he explains, and it distressed her to think that they will go without her.
"Take me with you! Don't leave me!" She begged, but he shushed her like she was a child.
"I will return, do not worry. We aim to celebrate tonight, and I assure you, you won't miss it," he chuckled, his eyes glimmering with an easing atmosphere. She sighed, her heart aching to see her friends faces again. She thought back to the shadow, and wondered if she could tell him. If she did, he might forbid her magic again, and she didn't want that to happen. I just need to practice more... maybe then I'll be strong enough to resist that damned shadow. She thought, sealing her lips shut.
"Did I... act in any way different?" She dared to ask, and Gandalf's eyes flashed with suspicion.
"You did. But, do not worry, I say. It is all finished now," he stroked her hair, and she let a few more tears fall down the sides of her face.
"I'm so sorry, Gandalf..." is all she could respond with, but he didn't seem enraged at all. He bid his goodbye and left, leaving her alone again.
Her thoughts raced as she attempted once more to remember what happened. A flash came in her mind, the image of Legolas's soft visage in a dark room, and the
smell of sweet leaves. She sighed, looking around the room to occupy her. She watched as the nurses rushed around to help the patients, and from what she could tell, young boys who had even lost limbs among the battle.
"I came to-" A voice startled her from her watchful stare, bringing her attention to the prominent head of golden hair and dark eyes staring down at her with a deep frown. Legolas stood beside her with a bag, his expression calm yet somewhat agitated, with how his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed when she would look into them. He went silent as she sighed in relief, reaching out to him.
"Legolas! What a relief to see you well," she smiled weakly, grabbing his hand to give him a friendly squeeze. His eyebrows rose exponentially, surprise written all over his face.
"I..." he began, looking perplexed. "I came to give you your belongings." He grunts, pushing it into her hold. She sat up, opening the bag curiously. My stuff! She smiled, happy to see her old clothes and items were still safe.
"You truly baffle me, Lady [Y/n]." He spoke, pulling her attention away from her bag. "But, since you are more blithesome at this moment, I want to say something to you," he clears his throat, carefully sitting himself down beside her, looking deep into her eyes. She tilted her head in confusion, beginning to worry she had done something to him while she was 'away'.
"D-Did I hurt you?" She stutters worriedly, scanning his body for any wounds she might have dealt him, but saw nothing. He nodded, though, which increased her worry.
"Aye... you cut me like paper, but I forgive you, for I know that my treatment of you has been unfair till this point." He utters calmly, his gaze momentarily flickering away from hers. Oh, dear... I hope the cut isn't too deep. She cringed, letting him continue.
"I want to apologise. You had every right for doing what you did, and I only wish to heal our alliance," he admits, and [Y/n] was surprised to say the least.
"You are very forgiving, Legolas. I commend you for that," she smiles, bowing her head. "I just hope I did not cut you too deeply..." she chuckles nervously, and he lets a hint of a smile appear on his lips.
"Well, all wounds heal eventually," he smiles, sighing like a weight had been lifted off his chest. She continues to search his body for any sort of indication for a wound, but still found nothing.
"Where did I hurt you, though?" She asked openly, observing the way his ears turned red and his face twist uncomfortably.
"Ha... you are very frank, witch. If you really must know, it was my heart you wounded me with," he whispered, struggling over his words. She frowned, confused by what that meant. Hm? Heart? How did I cut his heart? She pondered, confused even more. Hold on... all joy left her face as she realised he was referring to something more metaphorical.
"What?" She worded dramatically, but he only shook his head.
"Forget I said anything. I hope you will forgive me, though. I'll leave you to rest now," he bowed his head, leaving her swiftly.
[Y/n] only sat there frozen and bewildered.
What the hell did I do? She thinks, her heart pumping wildly as she restlessly tried to uncover memories for the rest of that day.
When night had come, she found that her arms hurt significantly less, but her flesh wounds still stung every time she would flex her muscles. She was sure they would heal fully in the next week, but it still slowed her down greatly. She limped to her feet, wearing her clothes that Legolas returned to her, and fixing her greasy unkempt hair into a neat bun, completely exhausted after doing such a small task. Some soldiers who had been treated left shortly, heading to a commotion in the halls.
Limping to the doors, she looked out to see others rushing out of the building, and from a distance she could make out the cheers and laughter of men and women, as well as tankards of ale being clunked together. She excitedly hobbled her way out, smiling as her eyes met the glorious view of the Golden Hall, lit with ambient light and paper decorations on the pillars and frames of the building to give it a festive feel. She tried her best not to look like she was limping as she drew closer to the building, but that was especially hard to hide when you're walking upstairs.
Stumbling her way inside, she managed to attract many eyes, who cheered as she stared back wide eyed. What could they be cheering for? Perhaps they are just that happy. She couldn't fight the gleam that lit her face and wobbled her way over to a table to lean on, scanning the crowd for her friends. Aragorn stood alone, watching Merry and Pippin
"Merry and Pippin?!" She screeched, but they didn't hear. They were too busy dancing on the tables, totally befuddled with only laughter and ale to occupy themselves.
"Young lass! Good to see you well!" Gimli trotted up to her, with a fluffy pint of lager in his hand. She could almost squeal with delight seeing him, even though it's only been a day or so.
"Gimli! What a swell feeling it gives me to see you again!" She gushed, bringing him in for a tight hug by crouching to his level. He returned the hug with a haughty chuckle, patting her back. He smelled strongly of tobacco and beer, which was no doubt the effects of the party.
"We were waiting' for ye. How do your injuries fare?" He asks, scanning her clothes as she pulled away. She only chuckled in response, telling him not to worry.
That night quickly mixed into what she could only describe as laughing at whatever joke came out of anyone's mouth, along with a cup of whatever drink she could find in her hand. She found out Merry and Pippin were found in Isengard, which was an astonishing discovery made by Gandalf! He found them just before he found Eomer (which is the name of the lead rider of Rohan), and brought them to see how they were doing after the war just like he said.
Legolas joined the celebration shortly after she came, looking like he had freshened up prior to arrival, and it made [Y/n] grow green with jealousy. She looked at her reflection in her spoon (which she used for mashed potatoes earlier), frowning at her upside down image. Her hair was scraggly and her eyes had deep circles underneath them, making her look like she had just gotten out of bed after a restless sleep. She raked her fingers through her hair subtly, and bit her lips so they look redder, hoping it will make her look more lively.
"Nothing like a good tank of mead to end the day," he mused, sipping his drink gracefully. Stupid elf... how does he look so good in everything he does? She grumbled mentally, wiping her mouth of any stray crumbs or ale that might have escaped her tongue.
He acknowledged her with a warm smile, to which she returned politely. What he said before still troubled her greatly, and no matter what she tried, she still couldn't remember what she had done.
The atmosphere of the Golden Hall quickly washed away her worries though, she couldn't stay pondering seriously for long especially when Gimli would retell the funniest stories, managing to make her abs ache from how much she laughed. She didn't notice Legolas scooted closer to her while she was distracted, and even dismissed the fact his arm grazed hers ever so slightly.
"Did you rest well?" The elf suddenly asked her personally, taking another sip of his still full mug of mead. She nodded, not minding that they sat so close, the effects of alcohol making her more carefree and friendly than usual with him.
"I did. I managed to sleep half the day, and that helped me explo- er... exponshe... exponentially," she slurred factually, but quickly grew embarrassed of her stumbling speech.
"Good. You fought hard yesterday," he quickly said, before looking away and taking another sip of his drink. She burst into a rather dramatic laughter and punched him in the arm a bit too hard, which startled him and accidentally caused him to spill his drink a bit.
"That's the second time you've complimented me now," she laughed, and he smiled kindly in return.
"You've counted?" He quirked an eyebrow questioningly, still smiling. She shrugged, fighting back a blush.
"Yes... that doesn't make it special, though. I also remember Gimli's kind words more than his nasty," trying to play it off casually, she leaned back and tapped her tankard with her fingers, creating a little tune. The drink was beginning to take an affect on her, (if that wasn't obvious enough) slowly making her cheeks heat up and cover her nose with light sweat. Her eyes misted a bit with a dull grin.
"Do you drink often?" He asked her with a hidden mockery, and she shook her head unable to recognise the sarcasm in his tone.
"I never drink. It doesn't usually interest me," she responded honestly, swirling the liquid in her cup sadly.
"I personally indulge in a good cup of wine every night — my home serves the best wine in all of Middle Earth, I believe," he stated proudly, but it didn't interest her very much.
"I heard of it. I also hear Mirkwood holds the best festivals," she retold a tale that Gandalf once told her, of the annual festivities the wood elves would hold and how vivacious the entire kingdom would become just for one night. Back then, she wanted desperately to attend one, but the fear of being imprisoned again would always loom over her when she thought of Mirkwood and its king. Her mind rushed back to her earliest memories of that forest, how diseased yet eerily beautiful it looked in the sunsets.
"You hear correctly. My father never let me go to the town centre to celebrate, but in his hall, it was still very jovial," he chuckled, but his smile faded when he noticed her discomfort at the mention of Thranduil.
"Well, I'm sure it must be..." she itched the nape of her neck awkwardly, subconsciously moving away from him.
The conversation quickly diminished after that, and [Y/n] desperately wished to leave in that moment. She had such a tight feeling in her stomach for some reason, and her body craved to be in her bed again, away from everyone.
Luckily for her, Gimli engaged Legolas in a challenge. A drinking challenge. She watched them intrigued, wondering if the liquor loving dwarf would win, or if the blondie would surpass him. Deciding to keep away from drinking any more after nearly puking while burping, she pushed her cup away and let it slowly go down. In the end, Gimli damn near almost DIED, his eyes rolling to the back of his skull and his body going limp, now out cold on the floor soaked in ale and snoring like a hog. She laughed so hard she almost pissed herself.
"Game over," Legolas smugly contended, looking to her with a smirk. She rolled her eyes at him and got up to help Gimli, grabbing his shoulder to roll him on his side, but he abruptly jutted out his hand and grabbed hers tightly, coiling the fabric of her glove uncomfortably.
"Ah! Stop it, Gimli! You're drunk!" She exclaimed, trying to pull her hand away (still a bit tipsy herself) but, he grumbled incoherently and ripped her glove off clean, splitting the material in two. After that, he fell flat like a limp fish and gurgled.
A gasp left some of the bystanders watching the commotion, and she quickly realised it was because her hand had been exposed — she was so caught up in the action, she didn't even notice the cold breeze that hit her flesh. Sobering up immediately, she hid it in her pocket and limped out of there as fast as she could, mortified that they saw her bruised up skin and reacted so horribly. Embarrassment took over her as she hurriedly went back to the med bay, quickly retrieving her things and rushing out to the grassy streets, accidentally bumping into a hard chest.
"Oof! Watch it!" She growled, but grew meek when she found it was actually Legolas she had bumped into, who peered down at her questioningly.
"What happened? You left so suddenly, I thought something was wrong," he frowned, scanning her thoroughly.
"I'm fine, I just felt sick," she lied quickly, hiding her hand under her bag. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously, and stepped closer to her, practically petrifying her to her spot.
"You can tell me, witch," he whispered, looking intensely into her eyes. You sleuthing blondie... she damned herself for always getting in this sort of situation with Legolas, where he pries into her secrets and she has no choice but to relent.
"It's nothing, please, I..." she racked her brain for excuses. "I merely wanted to bathe before bed." She blurted, shifting in her spot. Legolas's eyes widened slightly and he nodded, stepping away from her, becoming bashful at the mention of bathing.
"Ah, I see. Forgive me, I thought you were enraged with Gimli," he explains, bowing to her slightly. Her eyes narrowed, wondering why he would even care.
"Even if I were, you shouldn't interrogate me for answers," she quickly argued, getting restless as a cold breeze blew onto her hand, making her feel much more insecure that he will see it.
"Aye, I... I shouldn't have intruded," he nods, rubbing his neck. "Do you need any help? I noticed your leg isn't doing well," he jumped, grabbing her bag from her hands in an attempt to relieve her, but it did the opposite. She gasped, tightening her clasp on the fabric, some of her items tumbling out and sprawling across the grass.
"No! Leave it alone! I don't need your help-" she exclaimed, but in her tussle with him, he accidentally ripped it out of her hands and let it fall. He went down immediately to pick up the items of the bag, but froze when his eyes laid upon her hand.
He kneeled there, completely still with his stare locked onto her trembling fingers, and she quickly withdrew it into the depths of her pockets. Slowly, he rose to his feet, concern riddled all over his visage.
"What happened to your hand?" He uttered in a low voice, but she didn't respond. "[Y/n]?" He drew closer to her, looking deeply unsettled, which caused a pang in [Y/n]'s chest.
"It's nothing..." she turned away, looking to the floor where her items still laid.
"Why does it look like that?" He urged her on, and slowly [Y/n]'s heartbeat began to rise, heat forming on her head like it was on fire.
"Leave it alone. It doesn't concern you," she hissed, brashly pushing him away and hastily picking her stuff up into her arms, not caring if it was disorganised in her hold.
"I need to know," he sighed in exasperation, stubbornly stepping towards her again. She grated her teeth in her mouth, looking at him through her hair. Why is he all of a sudden so chummy with me? She growled inwardly, blaming herself for his overly friendly behaviour. Her enthusiasm in the med bay was a one time thing; she was merely overwhelmed with relief at the time, hence her softer tone. If she was not so alleviated, she would have turned him away coldly like usual.
"You don't! Leave me be! Do you not realise how inappropriate you are acting?" She now shouted, letting her emotions spill out along with a hot tears. He flinched, and stood frozen again, his face relaxing into a hardened yet emotionless expression.
"You are an unmarried Ellon, you shouldn't be acting so intimate with an Elleth like me!" She continued, poking him hard in the chest. "Especially someone like me!"
"I don't care that you are a woman. You are my friend, I want to care for you as I do with any other companion," he countered sternly, his eyes growing dark as she glared up at him.
"Folly! We are not friends, and we never will be. You made that clear from the start." She gritted, holding back a sob, thinking back to the way he scowled at her in Rivendell, when she revealed her origin. She took in a deep breath, casting her ire away from him and replacing it with sorrowful tears. "An Izalith cannot befriend the likes of you... ever."
It pained her to say this, but she knew it was necessary. If Legolas were ever to befriend her, she fears that she will end up falling for him and his calculating eyes — for he is a magnet she cannot resist even if she wanted to. Loving him would only mean heartbreak... his father would most definitely have her hanged, or worse, imprisoned for eternity, where she would go insane in the depths of the Mirkwood caves. They stood in silence for what felt like forever, until he finally shifted his feet to walk away.
"I see. I will let you be, then. Good night." He said briefly, walking away with his hands clenched behind him and his head held low. He looked a bit like his father there, and [Y/n] knew then that this was for the best.
Once he was gone from her sight, she dashed to the bath house, and when she was finally alone, she collapsed to her knees and let herself sob for a good minute. Why does he do this to me? It has got to be a trick! She cried, furiously wiping her tears away, scratching her skin painfully in the process.
Never in her mind did she ever think she would care for the elf, but he stuck in her mind like a parasite, refusing to leave even when he unintentionally hurt her. His voice, his scent and his beautiful face haunted her, but she doubted he requited any of these feelings she had. It's true that he only wants her as a friend, but it was better to be nothing than something that could lead to more agonising tears. Forcing herself to stop crying, she got up and organised her bag, trying to distract herself from him. The way he looked at her when she said those last words distressed her greatly, and she could only hope he would learn his lesson — to remain a distance from her and not pursue anything more than comradeship.
"Good work, [Y/n]... I am impressed. That man would be a fool to continue pestering you after what you've said," her shade laughed in her face, materialising before her with menacing red eyes and white teeth that formed a grin. [Y/n] watched it blankly, now numb to her emotions. She listened to it for the rest of the night, letting the shadow coax it into its persuasions, falling deeper into the fate of her blood as it applauded her for putting her lineage first.
For that is the Izalith curse, to live without love and walk the earth to only dream of it.
◣──•~❉᯽❉~•──◢
He's so gorgous, UGH I CANT 😩😫
He's literally my dream man but then I don't even like blondes 💀 who else used to think he was ugly until you suddenly had an epiphany and started obsessing over him like me? 😍
Nah, cuz Orlando Bloom was so perfect for this role. And the thing is I don't even find Lando attractive 💀 he looks so different in every other film he's worked in, which I'm actually grateful for ig — because it makes Legolas feel so much more unique and "untouched" if that makes sense?
Also I imagine her armour to look like this but with a black colour scheme.
As for her usual outfit, just imagine a fur cloak like this
And this underneath.... 😜 yeah I'm a fashonista teehee, making y'all look sexy and shit.
Hope you enjoy the outfits.
This was the hardest chapter I've ever written, holy sHIT. Not only did I have to write cool action scenes, but I had to bust out the dictionary so many times because I kept repeating words LIKE DAYUMM I OUGHTA READ MORE GIVEN IM A WRITER 😂😂
And yes, I write on a phone. ITS EASIER OK?!
Ok but like, let me know if you like the angst or not because it's actually my sisters idea, she says she LOVESSSSS edgy angst romances, so I decided to honour her a bit by writing it like this.
Peace ✌🏼
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