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Del Rion [userpic]

Loyalty to Blood; Chapter 3: Hidden Path

July 1st, 2006 (05:10 pm)
okay

current mood: okay

Story Info



Title: Loyalty to Blood
Author: Del Rion (delrion.mail (at) gmail.com)
Fandom: The Lord of the Rings
Era: Third Age of the Sun
Genre: Action/Adventure, AU
Rating: M / FRM
Characters: Legolas, Thranduil (, OCs)
Summary: In the shadows of Mirkwood wander many things, and the closer to Dol Guldur you go, the more evil things get. But even in darkness other things may bloom – things such as loyalty and friendship. This is a story of a surprising camaraderie between two entirely different creatures. A story never again told in words by those who live: how did Legolas and Thaíly meet.
Part of the history of “The Last Journey”. Takes place right after “Prince of Dol Guldur”. Complete.
Warnings: Death, violence, darkness, evil etc.



~ ~ ~




Author’s Note: From this chapter on, all speech etc. is done in Westron if not marked other way. (Trying to keep up realism… with little avail…)





Chapter 3: Hidden Path




Legolas stumbled, falling onto the ground with a small thud. His legs refused to support him any further, and with a piteous whimper he crawled under a sheltering thicket of bushes. Resting there, he panted like a wounded animal, waiting his strength to return.

World seemed to spin around, rays of the sun turning dark as he watched them, mingling to the shadows. The cool wind that caressed the leaves above him soothed is burning skin, but even its touch was not enough to take the unnatural heat away. It felt as if he was in fire for the outside and within. Sweat covered his skin, making him shiver.

And then there was blood. The smell of it assaulted his nostrils, making him feel sick. Distantly he knew he was hurt, and that the blood came from him, but the fever and his shadowed mind refused to register the pain. But the way his chest ached and his breathe caught into his throat told him that all wasn’t as it was supposed to be. Nothing is like it should be, he thought hazily, staring at the ground.

He had woken up some time ago, his dreams pushing him into a waking life. The nightmares didn’t end where the sleep did, however, and the vivid images they sent into his head were enough to drive him mad. His mind had been so muddled and confused that he hadn’t known where he was at first. Actually he didn’t know it now, either. All he knew was that he had to get away. Where, he knew not. He couldn’t remember how he had got here, or what he was supposed to do.

All he remembered was a mountain rising above the canopy of trees, dark fortress set upon it. Dol Guldur. The name echoed in his head, driving away all other thoughts. Was he supposed to go there? Or go away from that place? But as he wasn’t there now…

Coughing painfully, Legolas curled into a ball, shadowy pain wracking his body. Tears slid down his cheeks, painting hot trails of wetness to his burning skin. He moaned, trying to force his mind to focus, to drive away the hurt. Slowly he slipped down to an uneasy dream, dark images filling his exhausted mind.

As he woke hours later, sun was already setting, leaving the floor of the forest to darkness. Mist played among the roots of ancient trees, strange voices filling the air now and then. Legolas crawled out of his shelter, feeling slightly better. Or maybe it was just something pushing the pain away, leaving him into a strange numbness? He couldn’t tell either way. Looking up at the dark branches above, he thought that the trees seemed to be leaning over him, sheltering him from the light. For to be honest, darkness felt good, soothing.

And it didn’t matter if he was awake or not: all was dark.

Legolas got up to his feet slowly, swaying as he sough to balance himself. His senses settled down slowly, leaving him able to take the first, hesitant step. After another step he fell back down to his knees, his eyes blackening momentarily. But as he felt no pain, Legolas bit his jaws together, getting back up.

He leaned against a tree for a moment, waiting his body to settle down. The forest whispered at him, begging him to turn back. The restless movement beneath the ground told of the anxiety of trees, their worry like a physical thing in the air.

Legolas glanced up, sorrow in his eyes. He could not go back. He had to get away. He needed to know… What he needed to find out, he had already forgotten, but if he would find what he was searching, maybe then he would remember again.

The trees spoke of danger and shadows, of utmost evil, trying to forbid the Elf from moving on. But Legolas only whispered them to be silent, stepping forward again. And slowly the trees succumbed, hiding the young Elf’s path as he slowly wandered through the forest.





to be continued…

Story Info