TiLove That Was Lost

The beginning of the end.

Pain that was not my own washed over my body, ripping though me. I knew all at once that you had been hit by one of the many orcs fighting us. My fingertips lightly hold my bow as I got ready to take aim, they start to shake, and can’t hold on any longer, and I let the arrow go. As it took to the air, I already knew it wouldn't hit its mark. "What would they say, if they knew that Legolas Greenleaf has missed a target," I wondered to myself.

I started to plan out the speech I was going to give you when this was all over, and we were safe. That you owed me a night of love making because your carelessness to get hit by someone had made me miss what I was trying to hit. I could picture your face as you laughed at my demands. Then, all at once, another wave of pain washed over me, leaving me feeling cold and alone, weak in the knees and panting for breath. I didn't have to turn around to know what was happening. I could tell that you were in more danger than I had first thought.

I couldn't fight away the feeling of dread that took root in my heart. I spun round on the balls of my feet. And even now I moved with the grace of a cat, even though I could feel my world falling down around me. For the first time in my life I cursed my elven blood. But in that same second, I rejoiced in it, as my keen eyes sought out one form in the fury of fighting going on. Orcs, mixed with men, children and elves, were below me, and then I realised that somehow they had breached the walls of Helms deep.

The movement of a black leather tunic caught my eye, and I made out the form of Aragorn running towards something. Everything slowed down as I realised who fallen into his arms. It was you. The one I was looking for. My heart ached. My lungs refused to pull air into my body. Haldir? I hoped against hope that it wasn't you, but somehow I know that it is.

I wanted to run to you. But my legs give out on me, and I had to fight to stay standing up. How I wanted to make my way to you and throw my arms around you. How I wanted to tell you to hold on, to fight for me. But I couldn't make myself move as your eyes looked over Aragorn's shoulder, and the ghostly greys came to rest on me. I was frozen as a light smile touched your lips and they began to move.

Your eyes glazed over, but I did not need to see that to know. You are gone. Your soul has left the tormented body it was once held prisoner in. I felt a light breeze brush over my cheek, and I knew that it was your way of telling me to go on, and on that breeze, as light as the sun rising in the sky, I heard what you whispered only seconds ago.

"Legolas, nin meleth."

I wanted to hurt something. I wanted to strike out and kill that orc that took you away from me. But I was too slow. Aragorn took his own revenge for his friend's, my lover's, death. Without knowing it, he had stolen away my right for revenge: To kill the one that has taken my lover from me. I felt hot tears well up in my eyes. They stung at the edge of my sight. And for the first time in all my long centuries of life on Middle Earth I did not want to fight them away. But I had no time to weep as I felt my soul, my heart, dying, just like you have.

All I wanted to do was lie down on the mud-covered ground, pull my legs up to my chest, and pray that some god will take pity on me and let me join you in the Halls of Mandos. Even the movement of someone next to me was not enough to pull me away from the sight of his body as Aragorn and yells something. I felt anger licking at what little I have left of a heart. Anger at Aragorn for letting you go. But a voice managed to break through the loathing, and pulled me out of the trance your death put me into.

It was the voice of Gimli. He yelled something at me. Something I could hardly make out, as in a rush, I came back to myself, sounds of the battle breaking in. "We must move back," he said.

I look one more time over my shoulder at your body laying in the mud, just as an orc stamps on you, and you are covered in thick mud. I hate them, all of them. I will make them pay for what was done to you, for thinking they could win Middle Earth for their own. I know it is what you would have wanted. And so, I gave up my bow. I threw it over my back, into its case and took out the twin elven swords you had given me so long ago. I began to hack away at the orcs coming at me. And with each one I cut down, I whispered your name, so light that none would know it, but you and me.