Yay, we all love revisions…
Hihi! Please don't kill me…I'm honestly beginning to really wish I had never started up on FFN because now there are people who actually want to hear from me and I cannot keep up with this commitment because I do have a life…grrr, it was so much easier before…anyway, I'm going to try really hard to finish at least this story because it'll probably only have one or two or at the very most three more chapters left. So…here's the next chapter. Please review. )
For disclaimer, summary, rating etc., please see a previous chapter.
Ta,
TRS
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Before the Fall
Chapter 4
Battling Shadows
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Wake me up
Wake me up inside
Can't wake up
Wake me up inside
Save me…
Call my name and save me from the dark…
Bid my blood to run
I can't wake up
Before I come undone
Save me
Save me from the nothing I've become
Bring me to life…
--Evanescence, 'Bring me to Life'
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Part I
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It was morning.
No, it couldn't be.
It was frigid like the morning, but it was dark, and emotionless.
Morning was not emotionless. It was not dark. It was full of passion, and beauty, and light.
There was a sunrise every morning.
Legolas had been wandering around the morning for what seemed like hours and there had been no sunrise.
Morning was pleasant. You could always hear live things in the morning. Legolas could not hear a single thing. He opened his mouth just to hear his own voice and spoke a word but still he could hear nothing.
It was a still, cold darkness, a void, where no one and nothing lived.
A two-dimensional world of black and grey. There was nothing to see but cold black and grey. It was a lonely, bitter world.
Silent, grave, pointless.
So this is death? The elf's soul wondered rather sadly. I should have thought it would be like a release. I thought it would be more pleasant.
Something stirred within him. Something like a willow in the wind, moving him. It was a strange emotion, one he had seldom felt before.
Loneliness.
But now, faced with eternity in this cold, black abyss, it grew stronger and stronger until his terror at being alone forever, with no one or nothing, no noise, no people, animals—anything—was full.
A chill started up his spine and he could not stop shaking. Try as he might he could not seem to get warm again. Tendrils of fear, raw, incomprehensibly strong fear, wrapped themselves around his heart and squeezed.
He tried to move, but found that he could not. In fact, something seemed to have taken hold of his feet, like glue, and it was slowly sucking him down. Desperately he attempted to move but he only succeeded in getting himself further stuck. Thoughts of doubt and despair and hopelessness began to root themselves in his heart and he choked back a cry of terror.
It was a graveyard, and the elf's heart beat to the tune of terror. Darkness resounded and he reeled, screaming at nothing, every beat of his heart thrumming louder and louder yet somehow still silent.
He cried out in terror, wanting to hear himself, wanting someone to hear him—anyone—
…but there was nothing.
He beat his fists on the nothingness of this deathly still place, his heart twisting in anguish for fear of being left alone.
He screamed but there was nothing there, nothing to carry his voice. He wondered as he cried his throat dry if he was even capable of speech in this demonic place.
And that was when he figured out if this was death, he did not want to die.
But do I not deserve it? He thought, his mind in turmoil, desperately miserable yet similarly confused. Do I not deserve this misery for the lives which I stole?
He did deserve it. He must. Or he would not be here. He deserved fully this suffering.
But…where were the soldiers? Where were those to whom he intended to make his apology? It didn't make sense.
Then it hit him. They were not here. They whose lives for which he felt responsible were not here.
It cannot be! His mind cried in utter despair. If they are not here…where are they? And where am I?
"Aragorn," his heart cried out silently, still no sound made known. "If ever you loved me, help me now… You cannot hear me, but…"
He faltered. If Aragorn couldn't hear him, then why did he even bother…?
He sighed in despair. He could feel himself sinking back down into the abyss. For just a few seconds, while his heart bled the truth, he thought he saw a brief flash of light and thought he could hear sound. He thought he could sense being lifted out of that horrid darkness. Such fleeting joy he felt! But not anymore.
The afterlife is cruel, he thought despairingly. To allow me to experience such joy at being alive again, and then to sink back down into this pit of doom…I was a fool indeed!
He knew he was sinking as one would in quicksand, but much more quickly, and this stuff held on so much more tightly.
He thought he could feel the darkness taunting him, saying, Do not leave me, little elf! I much desire your company…there are many others here with you, though you cannot feel them. Stay here with me… your worst nightmare…
And then he could hear it laughing at him, and it terrified him, and he fought it, trying to climb out of this eternal pit. But his hands reached dust, the walls gave way, every time he gained ground it crumbled to ash beneath his trembling fingers as he sank deeper and deeper into the mire. He threw himself against the walls of his tomb, a sob breaking from his lips, his mind wild and in a panic.
Finally, shaking uncontrollably, he crumpled at Darkness' feet, vulnerable to its evils, unable to fight any longer. His strength was gone, spent, used up fighting something invisible and invincible. One could only battle shadows for so long…
"Aragorn…"
He knew his friend couldn't hear him, but he had to ask anyway, had to get it out of him before the darkness claimed him. Ohterwise, his soul would never rest.
"Forgive me…" the words escaped as a sigh on his lips, and he fell back into the unmerciful darkness, no longer fighting. Some semblence of life still fought to remain in him, but if something was not done, it would be too late…
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But where will you go?
With no one left to save you from yourself…
You can't escape the truth…
I realize you're afraid
But you can't abandon everyone
You can't escape
You don't want to escape…
--Evanescence, 'Where Will You Go?'
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Part II
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"No…"
Aragorn's voice was a mere anguished whisper as he clutched the hand of the one whose life he had saved many times, and who had saved his multiple times as well. He felt as though a monster clawed at him from within, tearing up his insides and clawing out his heart as he watched his best friend fade away before his eyes, from grief over something for which he was not faulted. It was impossible helplessess; here was the elf whom he loved as a brother, whose life he had been able to save so many times before…yet now, in the direst of moments, the elf's life lay in only one person's hands…Legolas's own. And it tore at Aragorn, wrenching at his heart, because there deep dread had taken root, knowing that now, Legolas was slipping away, his desire to live waning, and an unspoken whisper in his heart saying that if Legolas should have the choice, he would not choose life…
Legolas was now deathly white, even for the elf. His eyes were only half-lidded. Aragorn noted this with a dual jolt of terror and of hope. His eyes weren't entirely closed, which meant he hadn't given in to death yet, but Elves never had their eyes even partially closed unless it was to pose as a human or, more likely, they had suffered grevious hurt.
"Aragorn."
Aragorn's head snapped up. He was instantly alert, not breathing, waiting, all his senses balancing on a knife's edge, staring intently into the empty, glassy, half-lidded eyes of his best friend. His mind held no thought except that of Legolas. His heart pounded and idly in his mind he wished to quiet it so he could better hear the resounding silence, hoping against hope and praying like he never had before to hear but one more word spoken from the graceful lips of the motionless elf before him.
"Legolas…?" His voice was a hoarse whisper, filled with dread and hope. He dared not believe that Legolas had chosen to live, for the elf's intent to die had been so monumental. Yet he could not shut out that glimmer of hope, that faint flickering of potential joy that had fluttered in his chest at the single word his friend had spoken, for it was a spark of hope, it meant that Legolas still might choose life…
"Legolas, you must come back," he whispered desperately, fighting back the tears which threatened to cascade down his face. Tears like rain, ready to unleash in a torrential flood down the heartbroken Ranger's face, should his friend resign himself to death and leave those who held him dear.
"Forgive me…" Legolas shuddered and sighed.
"There is nothing to forgive," Aragorn stated fiercely, gazing deeply at his friend and clutching his hand in a vise-like grip. He waited, searching for some sign that the elf had heard him, but there was nothing. No movement of the hand, no twitching of the lips. His chest barely rose and fell again.
"We need you here, I need you here…saes, mellon nin, gwair nin, saes, utule…" He slipped into the Grey tongue, almost unconsciously, as though hopeful it would touch the Elf in the vast darkness which he surely faced.
A sudden fear gripped his heart, new and penetrating; what if Legolas could not come back? What if he had slipped too far and too deep into Death's clutches to escape, even if he wanted to? No. Aragorn refused to believe Mandos would be so cruel. Though tendrils of fear wrapped themselves around his heart tightly, squeezing at his courage, he refused to give in. He had to be strong. Legolas needed him to be strong.
He sang softly to the elf, doing his best to keep his voice steady, though with every word he sang a fresh wave of tears threatened to spill over. He did not let them. He gripped Legolas's hand and forced himself to remain steady and calm, refusing to let wicked fear take hold of him. If he did, Legolas would surely be lost.
"You will survive," he whispered fiercely into the elf's ear, though he was uncertain whether the unmoving prince could even hear him.
And still Legolas battled shadows.
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"Saes, mellon nin, gwair nin, utule…"
There it was, the shred of light, the promise of hope again! Even as Legolas sank deeper and deeper into the endless darkness, a flicker of light shone again, however briefly. He knew those words, he knew their meaning. It was the light at the end of the tunnel, he could see again!
Snap.
The first chain binding him there had broken, and he felt it a little easier to breath.
Those words, they meant Aragorn still wanted him, they meant he forgave him, that he would take him back, in all his foolish wanderings.
He would not stay here longer with his dark thoughts, with his despondency and guilt. Those things were gone. They would haunt him no longer. By the Valar, he would get out of this mess he had created or he would die trying. At another moment the irony might have hit him, but now, his fierce determination prevailed and he concentrated entirely on escaping the inescapable.
Willful fortitude filled his entire being, and mustering his remaining strength he prepared to remove himself from his surroundings.
Snap.
Suddenly, just a little easier to move…
He filled his mind with all the wonderful memories, and shut out all the bad things. He could see his loving father, his adored sister, his beloved home, and of course…Aragorn.
Snap.
Legolas tugged some more, but somehow he was still stuck.
He shut his eyes and forced back the terror which threatened to creep once more into his soul. Breathing heavily, he remembered only the good and forced out the bad. He could see Mirkwood. Snap. He saw his sister smiling at him, pleading for him to play with her, and he saw himself giving in, in spite of himself. Snap. And Aragorn, treating the human's wounds for the thousandth time…A smile nearly touched the Elf's lips as he remembered how Aragorn always seemed to be getting into scrapes, and Legolas always seemed to be the one patching him up.
No, Death could not hold him. Not when he had so much to live for. To live. Yes, he wanted to live!
Snap.
The final cord had broken, the final chain had been shattered, and his heart gave a mighty soar. He was free!
With a joyful cry he leapt from the tunnel of darkness, that never-ending, ceaseless pit of doom. Death could not hold him, it had no power over him! He could be alive and well again.
"Get back," he hissed fiercely at the invisible demons which surrounded him, trying to pull him back into the darkness. "You shall not claim me! Get back, I tell you, minions of darkness!"
For the first time since he had fallen into that pit he felt he could move fully. He grasped the edge his prison and suddenly felt he could lift himself up. It took a great effort, and he gasped at the sudden pain throbbing over his entire body.
But the walls no longer crumbled into ash, the quicksand no longer sucked at his body, pulling him down that horrible maelstrom of despair.
He could see the light very clearly now, it shone brightly, as if beckoning to him. Much despair and doubt and utter hopelessness had Legolas poured into his mind. And indeed it was the demons of his mind that he fought, forcing them back, forcing qualities of the Light to shine through instead.
The great pain was spreading over his entire body, tearing him in half—darkness holding on at one end, light on the other. He felt as though he was being ripped apart, his insides being shredded and his limbs being torn one from another. But slowly he beat back the darkness.
It was no easy undertaking. Legolas had sunk far into despair, hopelessness and guilt, all the things the deaths of those with nothing to live for thrive upon. He realized now that he had allowed these things to consume him, to take over his mind and to erase any rationality from his mind. It would take an enormous amount of willpower to overcome those obstacles which had brought him here in the first place. He was free, but he still had to climb out.
"Aragorn," he rasped, feeling his strength wane, as he climbed, hand over hand, out of the dark and freakish prison. "Help me…"
His strength was nearly gone. His climb out of the abyss was growing slower and slower. He could barely reach one hand over the other. The ripping, tearing feeling was so strong it overwhelmed him. He cried out and thrashed against the wall, beating himself, trying to rid himself of that slashing, rupturing feeling. He could hardly hold on. Though he had rid himself of the binding chains, if he didn't get out soon he would lose his grip and fall back into the chasm for good…
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"Help me…"
Aragorn's heart leapt at the Legolas's words. A moment later however Legolas started thrashing wildly and crying out in a loud voice. Immediately Aragorn put a restraining arm on his forearms, worriedly looking down at the wildly flaying elf.
"Aragorn…"
"I'm here, Legolas," Aragorn cried, not taking his gaze from the pale, sweating face. "I'm here, mellon nin…"
His heart silently cried, though his face refused to show it.
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"I'm here, mellon nin…"
Visions flashed through Legolas's irrational, exhausted mind.
Aragorn.
Aragorn was there.
He could see him there, he could almost touch him. He was reaching his hand out towards the bedraggled elf, smiling.
With a great last effort, Legolas threw himself upwards, at the outstretched hand. He grasped it and pulled himself out of the dark abyss forever.
Suddenly, in a rush, despair and dread and guilt were all gone, replaced by an overwhelming joy at being alive.
He could see Aragorn's worried face, his sharp elven ears could pick up all the nose around him. The light was no longer a blur, but a sharp, almost painful brightness.
He was back.
But he was also exhausted, having used every last ounce of his strength to fight his doom and ward off death and hopelessness.
He sat up with a wild and joyful cry, and then, with a sigh of relief and happiness, fell dizzily back onto his pillow, totally and utterly deprived of energy.
Then soft sleep claimed him, not dark, but light.
"I'm here," he heard himself whisper to Aragorn, to let him know he was alive, as the kindness of sleep floated over him and he relaxed, content, for now, to be Legolas Greenleaf, and happy that his best friend was there with him, watching over him.
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shakes head
You all had better be glad it was around Easter that I wrote this. I was seriously considering killing him. But I was all happy because of Jesus's resurrection and whatnot, so here you go, Legolas is alive.
Please review.
Ta!
TRS