Through His Darkest Hour
folder
Lord of the Rings Movies › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
3,746
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Lord of the Rings Movies › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
3,746
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Lord of the Rings book series and movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Through His Darkest Hour
Chapter One
An Injury Hidden
The fellowship had been within the mines for a time now. They had just come across the tomb of Gimli’s brethren. Gandalf the Grey was reading aloud from a journal he had found amongst the dead. It spoke of a siege and a fierce battle, Orcs had been the enemy. The hobbits were wondering around the chamber checking things out and satisfying curiosity. When it happened, Peregrin Took or Pippin as he was called knocked a piece of armor into a deep stone well.
The sound reverberated down the mine shafts for an achingly long time. Every member of the fellowship with the exception of the hobbit in question got into a fighting stance.
“Fool of a Took!” Gandalf said berating the hobbit for his clumsiness.
“Quiet,” Aragorn hissed from his place at the door, the sound of thousands of footsteps echoing in his ears.
The other heard and readied themselves for battle. The two men Aragorn and Boromir barred the door to the chamber.
Boromir was the one who figured out what was making the deep guttural grunts and growls. “They have a cave troll!” he shouted to the rest of the fellowship.
Two swings of a giant club later and troll followed by hundreds of Orcs rushed at them. Boromir and Aragorn used their swords and Gimli his axe. The hobbits stayed near the others. Legolas of course had his bow at first but was forced to draw his blades when the horde got too thick. Gandolf used his sword and staff.
They fought bravely but the orcs just kept coming. The fellowship’s attention was taken up by the troll when the brute went after Frodo. During the fray an Orc came up behind a member of the fellowship and slammed a glancing blow with a club to the back of the member’s head. His knees buckled and he fell down to the ground his normally sharp vision went cloudy.
Unfortunately for the Orc this member of the fellowship was trained to ignore pain. The Orc suddenly found himself impaled upon a blade. With that taken care of he went to help the others free Frodo, his injury going unnoticed by the others in the battle.
Despite the blow he was even able to bring down the troll with an arrow through the skull. Then the fellowship fled the death trap of a chamber.
Running through the mines pursued by the orcs was terrifying but what scared them more was what made the orcs go away. A balrog, a fire demon spawned from hell. They ran on until they came to a narrow strip of solid ground spanning across a monstrous chasm. It was here that the tragedy struck just in a more final way.
Gandolf, in order to give the others the head start they needed to get safely out of the mines, sacrificed himself fighting the demon. The hobbits especially Frodo had to be restrained from running after Gandolf. They had to continue none of them wanted Gandalf’s sacrifice to be in vain.
The surface had never looked better to any of them. After the terrifying darkness of the mines the bright sunshine stung their eyes and stunted their vision. One of their number however was beginning to fear that his distorted vision might not just be from the sun.
The blow to his head still stung and blood had been slowly seeping into his hair dying the long blonde strands red. He carefully felt the injury and it had already stopped its bleeding. His skull still felt to be in one piece. Yet a dark sense of foreboding was creeping upon him. Something much more sinister was afoot. After all shouldn’t his eyes have adjusted by now? They were still as cloudy as they had been from stepping out of the mines and the others weren’t squinting anymore.
Using the grief they all felt he took the chance to take the water from his canteen and rinse the blood out of his hair. After all a member of their fellowship had fallen they needn’t worry themselves over the minor wound of a clumsy elf. Pulling himself together more he went to rejoin the others to make the decision about where to go next.
After a heated argument with many comments on food, rest, and grief. It was decided to head towards Lothlorien and seek out Galadriel. They should reach the woods before nightfall. The only concern was the elves legendary disdain for dwarves, a distain wholeheartedly returned by their stubborn dwarf Gimli.
As predicted they reached the forest with the sun still in the sky. They had an interesting meeting with the forest guards. Where Gimli found himself on the business end of a dozen aimed bows. The situation was diffused and they were taken to Galadriel.
The lady’s voice rang directly within the minds of the fellowship, words imparting wisdom or warnings. What she said to a certain blonde elf was more then a little disturbing.
“Prince Legolas, I can see what you have tried to hide. It will be a difficult task for you. Your injury is such a one as I can not fix. You will have some time to get used to living without before it is gone entirely. Find the time to tell the fellowship this is not the thing to hide.” Galadriel's voice was tinged with sorrow at these words. Legolas knew she never spoke wrong, his suspicions were correct he was losing his sight.
While Aragorn filled her in on their progress Legolas’s mind was a tumult of thoughts and impressions. He wondered how this could have happened after all his eyes had not been damaged. That filthy Orc must have managed to hit him in the right spot. He was a fair student of anatomy he knew that the part of his brain that controlled sight was in the back.
He looked around himself trying to convince himself that this wasn’t happening. The more he looked the harder it was to tell himself Galadriel was wrong. The world around him was blurry and growing worse as time passed. He knew at this rate it would not take long before he saw nothing.
He never noticed Galadriel’s determined facade or the thoughtful expression that crossed her perfect features after some thought. She knew a way to help the prince. No force on middle earth could return sight to the blind, but she knew of a blind archer in the forest guard. If the fellowship could be persuaded to stay long enough. Legolas could get the lessons he would need to continue on with the Fellowship. As she had told the group the outcome of their quest stood upon the edge of a knife. Legolas still had a part to play in this journey yet.
With that made up she led the fellowship to rooms where they could seek rest and refuge. She then took it upon herself to search out the one could help save a world. After all Legolas as strong as he was would need someone to bring him through his darkest hour.
An Injury Hidden
The fellowship had been within the mines for a time now. They had just come across the tomb of Gimli’s brethren. Gandalf the Grey was reading aloud from a journal he had found amongst the dead. It spoke of a siege and a fierce battle, Orcs had been the enemy. The hobbits were wondering around the chamber checking things out and satisfying curiosity. When it happened, Peregrin Took or Pippin as he was called knocked a piece of armor into a deep stone well.
The sound reverberated down the mine shafts for an achingly long time. Every member of the fellowship with the exception of the hobbit in question got into a fighting stance.
“Fool of a Took!” Gandalf said berating the hobbit for his clumsiness.
“Quiet,” Aragorn hissed from his place at the door, the sound of thousands of footsteps echoing in his ears.
The other heard and readied themselves for battle. The two men Aragorn and Boromir barred the door to the chamber.
Boromir was the one who figured out what was making the deep guttural grunts and growls. “They have a cave troll!” he shouted to the rest of the fellowship.
Two swings of a giant club later and troll followed by hundreds of Orcs rushed at them. Boromir and Aragorn used their swords and Gimli his axe. The hobbits stayed near the others. Legolas of course had his bow at first but was forced to draw his blades when the horde got too thick. Gandolf used his sword and staff.
They fought bravely but the orcs just kept coming. The fellowship’s attention was taken up by the troll when the brute went after Frodo. During the fray an Orc came up behind a member of the fellowship and slammed a glancing blow with a club to the back of the member’s head. His knees buckled and he fell down to the ground his normally sharp vision went cloudy.
Unfortunately for the Orc this member of the fellowship was trained to ignore pain. The Orc suddenly found himself impaled upon a blade. With that taken care of he went to help the others free Frodo, his injury going unnoticed by the others in the battle.
Despite the blow he was even able to bring down the troll with an arrow through the skull. Then the fellowship fled the death trap of a chamber.
Running through the mines pursued by the orcs was terrifying but what scared them more was what made the orcs go away. A balrog, a fire demon spawned from hell. They ran on until they came to a narrow strip of solid ground spanning across a monstrous chasm. It was here that the tragedy struck just in a more final way.
Gandolf, in order to give the others the head start they needed to get safely out of the mines, sacrificed himself fighting the demon. The hobbits especially Frodo had to be restrained from running after Gandolf. They had to continue none of them wanted Gandalf’s sacrifice to be in vain.
The surface had never looked better to any of them. After the terrifying darkness of the mines the bright sunshine stung their eyes and stunted their vision. One of their number however was beginning to fear that his distorted vision might not just be from the sun.
The blow to his head still stung and blood had been slowly seeping into his hair dying the long blonde strands red. He carefully felt the injury and it had already stopped its bleeding. His skull still felt to be in one piece. Yet a dark sense of foreboding was creeping upon him. Something much more sinister was afoot. After all shouldn’t his eyes have adjusted by now? They were still as cloudy as they had been from stepping out of the mines and the others weren’t squinting anymore.
Using the grief they all felt he took the chance to take the water from his canteen and rinse the blood out of his hair. After all a member of their fellowship had fallen they needn’t worry themselves over the minor wound of a clumsy elf. Pulling himself together more he went to rejoin the others to make the decision about where to go next.
After a heated argument with many comments on food, rest, and grief. It was decided to head towards Lothlorien and seek out Galadriel. They should reach the woods before nightfall. The only concern was the elves legendary disdain for dwarves, a distain wholeheartedly returned by their stubborn dwarf Gimli.
As predicted they reached the forest with the sun still in the sky. They had an interesting meeting with the forest guards. Where Gimli found himself on the business end of a dozen aimed bows. The situation was diffused and they were taken to Galadriel.
The lady’s voice rang directly within the minds of the fellowship, words imparting wisdom or warnings. What she said to a certain blonde elf was more then a little disturbing.
“Prince Legolas, I can see what you have tried to hide. It will be a difficult task for you. Your injury is such a one as I can not fix. You will have some time to get used to living without before it is gone entirely. Find the time to tell the fellowship this is not the thing to hide.” Galadriel's voice was tinged with sorrow at these words. Legolas knew she never spoke wrong, his suspicions were correct he was losing his sight.
While Aragorn filled her in on their progress Legolas’s mind was a tumult of thoughts and impressions. He wondered how this could have happened after all his eyes had not been damaged. That filthy Orc must have managed to hit him in the right spot. He was a fair student of anatomy he knew that the part of his brain that controlled sight was in the back.
He looked around himself trying to convince himself that this wasn’t happening. The more he looked the harder it was to tell himself Galadriel was wrong. The world around him was blurry and growing worse as time passed. He knew at this rate it would not take long before he saw nothing.
He never noticed Galadriel’s determined facade or the thoughtful expression that crossed her perfect features after some thought. She knew a way to help the prince. No force on middle earth could return sight to the blind, but she knew of a blind archer in the forest guard. If the fellowship could be persuaded to stay long enough. Legolas could get the lessons he would need to continue on with the Fellowship. As she had told the group the outcome of their quest stood upon the edge of a knife. Legolas still had a part to play in this journey yet.
With that made up she led the fellowship to rooms where they could seek rest and refuge. She then took it upon herself to search out the one could help save a world. After all Legolas as strong as he was would need someone to bring him through his darkest hour.