In Twilight

A/N: Yay, we're almost done! I've been struggling to get into the mood to write the last bit of this story. Three more chapters to write, four to beta and it'll be finished. My first piece of work will finally be done!
Thanks again to Ilye for beta reading, and all you wonderful readers for your continued support. And I'm really sorry for the cliffhanger at the end!!

/ / denotes thoughts.
~~~~~~~~~~ denotes changes in scene or POV.

Chapter 17: Midst of Battle
Summary: Legolas loses sight of his love during battle and fear grips him.

The black ships moved steadily upstream against the current on the river Anduin, thanks to the rowers down in the lower decks and the favorable breeze that blew. Manwë was aiding them, aiding the union of the race of Men against the black creatures of the Dark Lord. The rowers, in the deepest bowels of the vessels, were pulling the oars with all the strength they had; they were Men, captured from Gondor when they were just boys, but now they were free. Their King had come for them. With that knowledge in mind, they set themselves to the task of bearing their savior and his companions to Minas Tirith, and to the end of fear and tyranny.

The breeze was pleasant as it buffeted the slender form of the Prince of Mirkwood, whipping through his hair and sending it in golden streams behind him. He looked ahead and up the river to the battlefields that awaited them all. But all he could hear was the crying of the gulls back in Pelargir, calling to him to sail the Sea and visit the Undying Lands. Legolas couldn’t resist the urge, the temptation to set sail. He would not do so yet as there were far too many things left for him to do; one day, however, the time would come. A time would soon arrive in which he would set foot on board a ship, and never again see Middle-earth.

The thought of leaving his homeland saddened thinceince a little. Looking about the deck, he gazed at each of his gathered companions to distract himself. There was Aragorn with Halbarad and a few other Dunedain quietly discussing the forthcoming battle. Other Dunedain were spread about, some signaling to the other ships and their companions, others joking and laughing amongst themselves as their cleaned and readied their weapons. Seated and leaning against the mast was Elrohir; his head was bent low, raven hair obscuring his face from view. Legolas guessed that the younger twin was dozing, catching up on sleep after a hard ride from the Stone of Erech and the battle at Pelargir so that he would be ready at the Pelennor Fields. Not far from the twin was Gimli, humming some Dwarvish songs while fixing the notches in his axes as best as he could manage. But there was no sign of…

“Anor-nîn?”

Legolas smiled and turned to the voice just as the wind picked up, golden hair obscuring his vision. He felt a warm arm twine about his waist and a gentle kiss upon his brow as Elladan brushed his hair aside. Leaning against his lover, Legolas sighed contently as the pair embraced quietly. No one seemed to notice, or did not show it if they did. The lovers were left to their own devices with some measure of privacy.

“Is there something troubling you?” Elladan asked quietly, hands weaving through golden hair. “You seem sullen and disturbed. It is not the war, is”
”

“Nay, it is not.” Legolas fell quiet for a moment, drawing a breath before speaking again. “I heard the cry of the gulls at Pelargir.”

Elladan understood quickly. A change had come over his lover ever since the band had left Pelargir for Minas Tirith. There was a certain longing in the blue eyes Elladan had only seen in his father’s gaze as of late. “You feel the Sea calling to you. The Sea longing has awakened.” He felt Legolas nod against his shoulder, and he pulled the Prince closer. Elladan dipped his head a bi kis kiss the golden crown and whisper into a pointed ear. “Will you heed the call? Will you sail with the rest when the time comes?”

“Nay, I cannot.”

“Why?”

Legolas lifted his head from his lover’s shoulder to stare into the storm gray eyes whilst he spoke. “There are still things I need to attend to, unfinished business that needs to be done. I will not sail until my duties are complete no matter how strong the calling becomes. I cannot leave Aragorn whilst he lives. There is much to be done once this war is finished, and I fear he will need as much help and advice as he can muster. He is a dear friend and I wish to stay at his side should he need me, whilst he yet lives in this world.”

“Then you will stay until he passes from this world?”

The Prince nodded as his voice fell to a hushed whisper. “And I will not leave you behind.”

“Legolas, I…” Elladan was unable to tell his r abr about his vow as Aragorn beckoned him over, seeking his advice. Reluctantly he pulled away, laying a kiss upon Legolas’ temple as he passed to join the future King and Halbarad.

Legolas watched him go, half-afraid of Elladan’s unfinished statement. What was he about to say? Did it have to do with his choice? The Prince was frightened of what the twin would tell him, praying to the Valar to not let them be separated. The Sea calling was strong in him, but he would not give into it. There was still too much to do. He could not leave. Not yet.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Legolas? Lad, are you all right?”

“Aye, Gimli. I am fine.”

“You don’t look it. Rather a bit paler than usual if you ask me. Have you been eating at all lately?”

Legolas allowed himself a smile at his friend’s concern and compassion. It wasn’t far now to the Pelennor Fields; just a few more minutes and they would see the lay of the land. The Dunedain were beginning to assemble as the ships drew nearer, Legolas GimlGimli among them. The twins and Aragorn were making some last minute preparations in one of the lower holds. The Elf and the Dwarf stood watching the land move by as they awaited the moment of battle.

“Legolas?”

“Oh, forgive me, Gimli. What did you say?”

The Dwarf gave a frown as he observed his friend closer. “Come now, Te Tell me what’s troubling you. Your mind is not focused on the battle ahead, and that could cost you. So let’s hear it. Best get things off your chest now while you have the chance.”

“It is nothing, Gimli. There is no need to be concerned.”

“Nothing you say? I shall judge for myself if it is nothing. Now tell me what it is before I am forced to draw it out of you, which you well know I am capable of.”

The Elf gave a musical laugh at the good-natured mockery directed at him. Gimli scowled for a moment, but amusement was clearly shining within his dark eyes. “You have come to read the mannerisms of Elves quite clearly during this journey, my friend.”

“Perhaps, but I still do not understand you. Now talk and let us see if we cannot fix whatever it is that is amiss.”

Legolas paused a moment to determine how he should put his concern into words, and in as short as time as possible. The battlefield was looming ahead, there was no time to go into lengthy details. “It is about Elladan.”

“Ah, yes. I was wondering about when you would come around to telling me about you two.” The Dwarf smiled at seeing the faint tinge of a blush stain his elven friend’s face.

“You knew?”

“I guessed. Now, what about the young master?”

“Lord Elrond is sailing soon. Elladan and Elrohir must make a choice soon.”

“A choice, you say?”

The Elf nodded. “A choice of whether to go andain ain immortality…or stay and forsake their elven heritage.”

“’Tis a difficult choice indeed,” Gimli said after a moment’s pause for contemplation. “And you are worried he will stay? Well, lad, it seems to me from what little I know of Master Elladan that he will make a choice he feels best suits him.”

“Gimli?” Legolas could not determine what his friend was trying to say, but he patiently waited for Gimli to continue.

“Master Elladan is no child, lad. He can decide for himself what choices are best for him, what paths he will walk down in his life. It appears to me that he is not some little tyke who is so eager to please someone that he will make a reckless decision, thereby possibly endangering himself and causing others distress. Nay, lad, he will weigh all the options and pick the best for him…and the best for you, I daresay.”

“I don’t understand.” He blinked when a look of indignation appeared on Gimli’s face.

“Don’t understand? Now see here, Legolas. The young master loves you, does he not? Clearly he knows what will happen to you should anything happen to him. If he loves you as much as you love him then there is no question that he will do anything to keep you out of harm’s way. Put more faith into the other half of your heart, Legolas. Now stop worrying and get your bow ready. I don’t want some sulking, worrisome Elf watching my back this day.” And with that, Gimli turned his attention to Pelennor as the fields came closer into view, the sounds of battle reaching their ears.

Legolas smiled thankfully at his friend and offered Gimli a gentle pat on the shoulder. The Dwarf said nothing but muttered something about not worrying as Aragorn and the twins appeared out of the lower holds to join the others. As the future King and the younger twin stood and gazed out fixedly at Pelennor, Elladan shifted to Legolas’ side. Wordlessly, he sought out the archer’s hand and gave it a light squeeze. Legolas smiled faintly at the gesture before returning it, and placing a gentle kiss upon his lover’s temple.

“I love you, ithil-nîn,” the Prince whispered.

“I love you as well,” Elladan replied. “We’ll make it through this.”

Legolas nodded, willing himself to believe the simple statement. There was no reason they wouldn’t safely see the end of the battle, the end of the war. After all, both of them have survived their fair share of combat, danger and the unexpected. The chances of surviving were good, and strongly in their favor. And yet Legolas couldn’t help but feel that something terrible might go wrong. He forced the dismal feeling away, hiding the emotions playing across his face as Pelennor came full into view.

Those aboard the ship made ready to descend as the vessels slowed: swords, knives and arrows were pulled from their scabbards and quivers and held at the ready. Halbarad, in a flick of the wrist, unfurled Aragorn’s standard, the gems the Lady Arwen had sewn into the black fabric glittered in the sunlight as the ships came to a halt. The chaos in the fields momentarily ceased, the frightened cries of the ‘Corsairs of Umbar’ died as the planks were lowered, and the Dunedain rushed the fields. Relief washed over the faces of the Rohirrim and the Gondorin guards as they recognized their Northern allies, and they began to fight the Uruk-hai and Orcs with renewed vigor.

The battle was not yet won and the fighting still fierce, yet the Men fought on. Their hearts lifted to see the sons of Elrond, the Prince of Mirkwood and a lone Dwarf fighting at their sides with speed, skill and strength.

“Come and get me, I say! Let them come!” Gimli was shouting and laughing as he sliced through enemies as easily as cutting his meal. The Elves smiled at the glee on their friend’s face and renewed their advances against their foes.

The battle raged on; it seemed at times as if it would never end. Halbarad fell, as did many as valiant as he. Yet those who still lived fought on in their stead, taking up their arms and doubling their efforts. His arrows long spent and without the time to gather more, Legolas had resorted to his trusted knives. He almost seemed to perform a deadly dance on the battlefield; nothing dark yet lived within his reach. A body heavily connected with his; Legolas moved to strike, but stopped when he recognized Elrohir.

“How do you fare?” the twin asked over the noise of battle.

“I yet have strength left within me,” Legolas replied. He did not like the slight look of worry that had etched frowns into the twin’s brow. “What is it?”

“I have lost sight of Elladan.”

/Valar, no…/ His motions stopped, his limbs suddenly feeling heavy with weariness. The cacophony of sounds dimmed around him as all Legolas could think about was what Elrohir had just said. /He can’t…no, I refuse to believe it! He can’t be gone!/

“Legolas!”

Gimli’s voice sounded close to the archer’s elbow; shaking himself back to reality, Legolas was in time to see the Dwarf sink his axe into an Uruk-hai about to sever Legolas’ head from the rest of his body.

“Pull yourself together, lad! We’re at war here!”

“But…”

“Have faith in him, lad. He lives yet, believe that. Worry about keeping yourself alive, and then we’ll worry about finding him.”

Legolas nodded, understanding the reasoning behind his friend’s words. He willed his limbs to move, slicing through an Orc about to sink a blade into Elrohir’s torso. /Please, melethron. Be alive. I’ll find you, just be alive./

Translations:
Anor-nîn-My sun
Ithil-nîn-My moon
Melethron-Lover