#legolas greenleaf

[annoyinglysparklygalaxy]

[annoyinglysparklygalaxy]

[herbirdglitter]

Legolas’s most prominent character trait is loyalty and I just think we need to talk about that more

[xxliaaaa]

- I Don't Want To Say Goodbye.

Pairings : Legolas x f!reader

Summary : As the final battle reaches its darkest moment, Legolas finds himself racing desperately toward the one person who matters most. There, he gathers you into his arms, confessing everything he had held back—his love, his regrets, and the truths he wished you had known sooner. But even with him by your side, fate remains unchangeable, as some endings are written long before they arrive.

Tags : @viovicente @judyfromfinance @16llui @ninaaazz @fries11 @whatthefuckrichard @tlissablr

A/n : Finally! We've made it to the part where it led to this whole story happening in the first place! Yes, younger me loved angst lmao. It was hard to rewrite it tbh, cause younger me wrote this so freaking bad! I almost had a seizure reading it. Plus, I was so busy with work, I've developed a freaking writing block again! So do pardon my bad wordings and typos >< I hope yall see and read the vision i had for this haha (might edit if its terrible lmao), enjoyy <3 (Part of the f!reader is not from middle-earth series | Can be read as a one-shot as well!)

Warnings: blood/injured, major character death!, angst, hurt/comfort, war!

Wc : 12k

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Back in Dale, Gandalf stood amidst the chaos of battle as human spearmen and archers drove their weapons deep into the hide of a massive troll. The beast let out a furious roar, thrashing wildly before finally collapsing beneath the relentless assault.

Nearby, Gandalf swept his staff in a swift motion, striking down an approaching orc before turning his attention back to the battlefield. His expression remained hard, yet beneath it lingered the faintest glimmer of hope despite the carnage surrounding him.

"We may yet survive this," Gandalf spoke, his voice steady despite the sounds of war raging all around him.

"Gandalf!" Bilbo shouted suddenly, his voice cutting through the noise as his eyes remained fixed on something beyond the hill.

He stood frozen at the wall, his breathing uneven as he stared into the distance, unable to tear his gaze away from the figures moving far below. The concern on his face was unmistakable, his brows drawn together as unease settled heavily in his chest.

Hearing his name, Gandalf immediately hurried over to where Bilbo was standing, his robes sweeping behind him as he moved. Reaching the wall, he followed the hobbit's line of sight and looked out across the battlefield.

There, riding along a narrow spur of the mountain, were Thorin, Dwalin, Fili, and Kili, making straight for the place where Azog waited.

"It's Thorin," Bilbo breathed, the name leaving his lips as he watched the distant figures. Anxiety clouded his face, his eyes remaining fixed upon the distant riders, following each of their movements with growing unease. His heart quickened for them, though he could do nothing but watch.

"And Fili, Kili... and Dwalin," Gandalf continued, narrowing his eyes as he studied them from the wall. "He's taking his best warriors." His expression darkening as he recognized exactly what Thorin intended.

"To do what?" Bilbo asked, turning quickly toward him, his brows drawn together in confusion. There was worry in his voice now as he searched Gandalf's face for an answer.

Gandalf did not answer at once. His gaze remained fixed upon the narrow mountain path where the four riders were slowly vanishing from sight. His expression grew grave, his eyes hardening with quiet understanding before he finally spoke.

"To cut the head off the snake,"

"Gandalf!" The voice rang out from behind, rising above the clash of steel and the cries of battle.

At the sound of his name, Gandalf turned at once, his robes sweeping lightly with the movement. "Legolas... Legolas Greenleaf," Gandalf stared, recognition flashing across his face as he watched the elven prince approach with urgency written plainly in every hurried step.

"There is a second army! Bolg leads a force of Gundabad orcs. They are almost upon us!" Legolas announced, his voice steady despite the haste of his arrival. His eyes remained fixed upon Gandalf, the weight of his warning plain upon his face.

"Gundabad..." Gandalf murmured, the word lingering on his tongue as his brows slowly drew together.

For a moment, his gaze swept across the battlefield below, taking in the tide of war with growing unease. Then, he'd seemed to have understood something, his expression growing increasingly grim as the pieces finally fell into place.

"This was their plan all along," he said quietly. "Azog engages our forces, then Bolg seeps in from the north."

"Wha... the north... where is the north, exactly?!" Bilbo asked in a panic, quickly turning toward Gandalf with widened eyes. His gaze darted anxiously between the wizard and the battlefield, desperately trying to understand what was happening as worry tightened every feature upon his face.

"Ravenhill," Gandalf answered without hesitation. Turning immediately, he strode toward the parapets with long purposeful steps, his eyes lifting toward the distant hill where Thorin and the others had ridden only moments before.

Standing at the edge of the wall, his gaze remained fixed upon the towering height shrouded in the haze of battle, knowing all too well that Ravenhill was where Thorin now stood.

"Ravenhill..." Bilbo repeated quietly, his face draining of what little colour remained as the dreadful realization struck him. His eyes widened as he looked toward the distant hill, his heart sinking deeper with every passing second. "Thorin is up there! And Fili and Kili... they're all up there!"

At the sound of Kili's name, Tauriel, who had been standing silently behind them stiffened almost instantly. Alarm flashed across her face as she lifted her gaze toward the peak of Ravenhill, her emerald eyes searching desperately through the thick mist that shrouded the mountain.

While the others remained focused upon the distant hill, Legolas found himself unable to keep his thoughts fixed upon Ravenhill alone.

His eyes instinctively swept across the battlefield below, searching endlessly through the countless warriors locked in battle, yet unable to find the one person he longed to see.

All he could think about was you, and amidst the chaos of war, the smoke, and the endless sea of soldiers, it had become almost impossible to find you. If only he had known... he would never have left you alone in the first place.

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In a brief moment of uneasy peace amidst the chaos of war, Thranduil walked slowly through the battered streets of the city. With each measured footsteps, it carried him past the countless fallen bodies scattered across the ground.

His gaze lingered upon the fallen, many of them his own elves who had given their lives in battle. It was a sight no king wished to behold, yet his expression remained composed, revealing little of the grief that weighed heavily beneath his calm exterior.

The silence endured only a moment before one of his commanders came running toward him. The elf halted at a respectful distance, lowering his head as he awaited his king's command.

"Recall your company," Thranduil ordered. Though his voice carried its usual authority, there was the faintest tremor beneath it as his eyes remained fixed ahead, never once turning from the path before him.

Upon the words of the elvenking, his commander immediately obeyed, raising a great horn to his lips before sounding a powerful blast that echoed across the battlefield.

Gandalf came hurrying toward them, his grey robes billowing behind him as he crossed the war-torn streets. Every step carried the weight of urgency, and the concern etched upon his face only deepened as he approached the Elvenking.

Stopping before Thranduil, he looked upon him with a grave expression, knowing there was little time left. "My lord, dispatch this force to Ravenhill! The dwarves are about to be overrun. Thorin must be warned."

For a moment, Thranduil said nothing.

Then, slowly, his gaze moved beyond Gandalf, falling upon the battlefield that surrounded them. The bodies of his fallen elves lay scattered across the streets, their armour dulled by ash and blood, their lives spent defending a land that had already taken far too much from them.

"By all means," Thranduil finally replied, his voice calm yet carrying a deep bitterness beneath its surface. "Warn him."

His eyes remained upon the fallen. For the briefest of moments, the unshakable composure of the Elvenking broke. A flicker of sorrow crossed his features, almost too subtle to notice, but it was there—the weight of every soldier lost, every life he had failed to bring home.

A king could command armies, but he could not bring back the dead.

The expression then vanished almost as quickly as it appeared, replaced once more by the familiar mask of royal composure. Turning away without another glance, he continued forward with deliberate strides, forcing himself not to look back.

"I have spent enough Elvish blood in defense of this accursed land—no more."

"Thranduil?!" Gandalf called after him, disbelief and frustration evident upon his face, as he watched the Elvenking walk away without looking back. His brows furrowed deeply, his hands tightening around his staff whilst he stood rooted in place, unable to hide the disappointment in his voice.

"I'll go!" Bilbo's voice cut through the tension as he stepped forward, his small frame carrying a determination far greater than his size suggested. Worry still lingered in his eyes, but he lifted his chin firmly, refusing to retreat from the danger that lay ahead.

"Don't be ridiculous! You'll never make it!" Gandalf answered at once, turning sharply toward the hobbit with widened eyes.

"Why not?" Bilbo asked, looking up at Gandalf with knitted brows. Though fear still rested beneath his expression, it did nothing to shake the resolve in his voice as he waited for the wizard's answer.

"Because they will see you coming and kill you!" Gandalf said firmly. His grip tightened around his staff as he faced the hobbit, his expression leaving no room for argument. Gandalf was absolutely determined to stop Bilbo from throwing himself into his certain death, that's for sure.

"No, they won't."

Gandalf looked at Bilbo peculiarly, his brows furrowing deeper as confusion briefly overtook the urgency upon his face. His eyes searched the hobbit's expression, trying to understand the quiet confidence behind those unexpected words.

"They won't see me," Bilbo stared back, the corners of his mouth barely moving as his hand instinctively drifted toward the pocket that concealed his greatest secret.

'It's out of the question—I won't allow it!" Gandalf continued to disagree, taking a firm step forward as his voice echoed with unmistakable authority. His expression hardened, yet the worry in his eyes betrayed that his refusal came not from anger, but from a desperate wish to keep Bilbo alive.

"I'm not asking you to allow it, Gandalf," Bilbo said quietly, as he held the wizard's gaze.

For a long moment neither of them spoke, the sounds of battle filling the silence between them before they finally exchanged a small, understanding nod. Without another word, Bilbo turned and strode away, disappearing around a nearby corner.

Reaching the shelter of a narrow alcove, Bilbo pressed himself against the stone wall before slipping a small golden ring from his pocket. He stared at it for a few quiet moments, his expression thoughtful as the familiar weight of responsibility settled upon him once more.

Taking a steady breath, he slowly slid the ring onto his finger, vanishing from sight in an instant. Hidden beneath the Ring's magic, Bilbo ran swiftly through the battered city, weaving between the last desperate clashes of the battle.

Through the Ring-enhanced vision, the elves seemed to appear as radiant beings of brilliant white light while the orcs took the form of dense, shifting shadows.

His eyes darted from one skirmish to another as he continued onward, searching for the safest path through the fights.

That was until a brilliant light suddenly caught his attention in the distance, streaking across the battlefield with incredible speed. Even through the Ring's strange vision, its radiance was so overwhelming that Bilbo instinctively flinched, quickly pulling the Ring from his finger as the brightness almost blinded him.

As the world returned to normal, his eyes widened with recognition when he realized it was you, galloping forward like a bolt of light before he noticed the direction in which you were heading.

"Oh no," Bilbo gasped, dread washing over his face as the realization struck him. Without wasting another second, he turned sharply on his heels, sprinting back through the city as fast as his legs could carry him.

Still struggling to catch his breath, Bilbo hurried back to where he was before. The air around the rest felt tense, as though he had returned in the middle of an uneasy moment. Yet he paid it no mind, his thoughts consumed entirely by what he had just seen.

Bent over as he fought to steady his breathing, Bilbo's lips moved several times, your name escaping in broken whispers before he finally managed to force the words out clearly. "She's—she's going after them!" he panted, both hands braced against his knees as he lifted his head to look up at them, panic written plainly across his face.

Legolas' brows furrowed deeply the moment Bilbo spoke, his expression tightening as concern washed across his face with immediate intensity.

He did not even need confirmation to understand the name Bilbo had struggled to say. For deep down he had already known, had always known up to now, even as he silently tried to deny it within himself.

His jaw tensed, a flicker of dread crossed his features, his gaze locking onto Bilbo with sharp urgency. In that moment , it seemed as if the surrounding chaos had slowly begun to fade for a moment beneath his rising panic.

"Where is she?" Legolas interrupted at once, his voice strained and breath hazy, as urgency overtook every trace of calm he had left. His eyes searched Bilbo's face frantically, unable to steady himself for even a second, panic clearly etched itself across his expression now.

"She's going to Ravenhill—" Bilbo managed to answer between ragged breaths, still bent forward as he tried to steady himself.

The moment the direction was spoken, the air around them seemed to change. A heavy silence fell, and every eye turned toward the distant peak of Ravenhill.

Legolas looked there at once. His gaze fixed upon the dark silhouette in the distance as panic took hold of him. In an instant, it all came running back to him, your destined fate. The one you cried over, the one you feared over, the one he couldn't force himself to believe would happen to you.

Without another thought, he stepped forward. His pace quickened with every stride, as though some unseen force was drawing him toward the mountain. His face remained set, his eyes unwavering, for every part of him already knew where he had to go.

"Legolas," Thranduil called out firmly, his voice cutting through the urgency like steel as it reached his son.

Legolas paused mid-step, turning back slowly to face his father. The Elvenking stood tall before him, every inch the ruler of his people, his expression composed and resolute. Yet beneath that unyielding authority lingered something far harder to conceal.

There was a plea in his eyes, restrained but unmistakable, as though he wished to call his son back yet lacked the words to do so.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

There was a silent battle between them—one wishing for the other to stay, to not throw himself into danger, while the other had already chosen the path he could not turn away from. Thranduil's silence carried the weight of a father's fear, while Legolas' carried the certainty of someone who knew there was no other choice.

And Legolas understood. If he stayed here, if he allowed himself even a moment of hesitation, he knew that decision would follow him for the rest of his life.

His jaw tightened as he held his father's gaze one final time. Or perhaps, in that moment, he was no longer looking upon his father, but his king. The silence between them stretched endlessly, filled with all the words they could not bring themselves to say.

And in that single look, Thranduil saw it once more. It was as though he were staring back at a younger version of himself—a son who carried the same unwavering determination, the same stubborn resolve that refused to bend once his heart had chosen a path.

The sight was painfully familiar. All of this for a love that will never be guranteed.

Slowly, Legolas turned away. Breaking eye contact for real this time, he sprang onto a riderless horse and gathered the reins firmly in his hands.

Without another word, Legolas drove the horse forward with urgent force, launching himself into motion as he rode toward Ravenhill at full speed. Determination burned in his eyes as the battlefield swept past in a blur, the wind rushing fiercely against his face while the sounds of war faded into the distance behind him.

Legolas drove the horse forward at relentless speed, the wind tearing past his face as the chaos of the battlefield blurred into streaks of motion and sound beneath him.

Every thunderous strike of the horse's hooves against the broken earth drove him forward, faster and faster. Yet his mind no longer belonged to the battle raging around him. There was only one thought that remained, one name that echoed through him again and again like a silent vow he refused to break.

His grip tightened around the reins until his knuckles turned pale, his jaw set so firmly that it ached. As though determination alone could challenge what fate had written, as though his will could bend the future away from the one thing he feared most.

No matter how far Ravenhill loomed ahead, no matter how impossible the distance seemed, all he could think was that he could not let you get hurt, not now, not ever.

But it will never be easy. Fates never been well, at least to him. The path ahead grew steeper and harsher as he pressed onward, the horse straining beneath him while debris and shadowed remnants of battle flashed past in violent bursts.

Memories of you surfaced unbidden in his mind, each one sharper than the last. Your presence intertwining with every breath he took, as though you were the only thing anchoring him to purpose.

Fate could not be allowed to take you, not when you deeply mattered to him, that you were alive and well.

As Ravenhill drew closer, the air itself seemed heavier, filled with mist and the distant roar of battle that made every second feel stretched and fragile.

Legolas leaned forward over the horse's neck, urging it onward with quiet desperation, his expression set in a rare mixture of fear and resolve that betrayed how much was at stake.

The thought that he might arrive too late clawed at him, but he pushed it away relentlessly, refusing to let doubt slow him even for a bit.

In his heart, there was only one truth now: your death would not be your fate, not while he still had breath, not while he was still moving toward you.

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There you stood beside the horse, staring at it as though it were some wild creature you had no intention of trusting. Its calm breathing and occasional shift of weight only seemed to make you more uncertain, your eyes narrowing as you studied it like it might suddenly decide to throw you across the battlefield.

"Yeah, no..." you muttered quietly beneath your breath, shaking your head as you looked it over. "I don't really like you."

You took a deep breath, briefly looking away as though you needed a moment to gather every bit of courage you had left. Then, reluctantly, your gaze returned to the horse.

When you looked back, the horse was still there, still looking at you in that annoyingly patient way. Your face immediately twisted into offended disbelief. "Quit staring would ya?"

All you could see was its stupid face staring right back at you, almost like it was judging you or mocking you for even considering this.

"Ugh, I can't believe I’m doing this…" you huffed, grabbing onto the saddle as you tried to force yourself upward, your hands slipping slightly as you searched for balance.

With a frustrated groan, you pushed off the ground with one foot, then the other, struggling awkwardly as your body refused to cooperate the way you wanted it to.

After a few clumsy attempts, you finally managed to haul yourself up, barely getting your weight over the saddle before you flopped into place with a small jolt. "Hoo… alright…" you said afterward, a faint hint of pride slipping into your voice as you exhaled.

Adjusting your grip on the reins, you tried to look compose now that you were technically in control, even though your earlier struggle still very much haunted your dignity. "Look at that… professional rider," you whispered to yourself with fake confidence, immediately side-eyeing the horse again.

You took a few quick breaths, staring ahead as your hands tightened around the saddle. Every bit of confidence you could gather was forced into place as you prepared yourself to finally move.

And the moment you did, the horse suddenly jolted into motion, neighing loudly as it surged ahead with both front legs lifting slightly, its energy snapping forward like a release of tension.

"What the fu—" The words barely left your mouth before a scream followed.

You immediately grabbed onto the horse, arms wrapping around it as tightly as possible while the world around you became nothing but a blur of movement. The wind rushed past your face, your heart practically leaping out of your chest as you desperately tried to stay on.

"Why are you so fast?!” you yelled at the horse like it could understand you, your legs clinging awkwardly as you tried not to immediately become airborne. "I just got up here, can we chill?!"

Your body moved awkwardly with every step, your balance constantly threatened as you struggled to understand the rhythm of riding. Every second felt like another near disaster, and for a moment, you were certain you were about to become a very unfortunate piece of battlefield decoration.

But slowly, somehow, you adjusted. Through nothing but instinct and stubborn determination, your grip became steadier. Your posture shifted, your movements began matching the horse’s pace, and the panic slowly gave way to focus.

You were still terrified of course, but at least you were no longer one second away from falling off.

Your breathing slowly began to steady as you forced your eyes shut for a brief moment, trying to ground yourself amidst the chaos surrounding you.

The sounds of battle, the cries of warriors, and the thunder of hooves all blurred together, but you pushed them aside. Instead of focusing on everything happening around you, you turned inward, searching for that familiar warmth of your own power.

With a sharp inhale, you activated your powers.

The world around you seemed to shift. Time itself appeared to slow, every movement outside your immediate control stretching and softening as though the battlefield had been submerged beneath still water. The clash of weapons, the movements of your enemies, even the rushing figures ahead became clearer, easier to predict.

In contrast, your own movements sharpened. Your senses heightened, your reactions quickened, and every second felt as though it belonged entirely to you.

Of course, the ride itself was still anything but graceful.

Every powerful stride of the horse sent a harsh jolt through your body, threatening to throw you from the saddle with every passing moment. You fought to keep your balance, gripping tightly as you leaned with the movement of the beast beneath you.

From the corner of your vision, movement began to appear from every direction. Of course they'd come at you now.

Orcs surged into your path from every direction onward, forcing your body to move before your mind could even catch up. Your hand immediately found the hilt of your blade, drawing it in one swift motion as the steel flashed beneath the battlefield light.

Using the horse's momentum, you leaned into the movement and swung in a wide arc. The edge of your blade cut cleanly across an approaching orc’s chest before you smoothly shifted your grip.

With a quick twist of your wrist, you reversed the strike, catching another enemy that had rushed toward you from the side.

Crimson droplets scattered through the air with every strike, catching the light for only a fleeting moment before vanishing beneath the thunderous rhythm of the horse's hooves.

Your blade moved continuously, flowing from one motion into the next, every slash and turn carrying you forward without allowing the battle to slow your path.

Even then, the horse refused to slow its reckless pace. You were forced to move with it, ducking beneath wild swings of rusted axes and twisting away from desperate hands reaching for your legs.

With every passing second, your confidence in riding grew ever so slightly, though your occasional panicked yelps whenever the horse made an unexpected turn proved you were still far from mastering it.

Somehow, against all odds, the two of you barreled through the battlefield together, surviving one impossible stretch after another until the rough terrain ahead finally became too steep for the horse to continue.

Pulling firmly on the reins, you guided the horse to a stop, finally bringing its relentless pace to an end. Carefully, you climbed down from the saddle, your feet touching the ground once more as your legs immediately wobbled beneath you, still trying to adjust after the wild journey.

You let out a long, exhausted breath, standing there for a moment as you regained your balance. Then, turning toward the horse, a small, sheepish smile slowly found its way onto your face.

Despite everything, you had to admit it had gotten you this far.

You reached out and gently patted its neck, looking at the creature with a mixture of gratitude and disbelief. "I forgive you for your impulsive decisions, by the way," you said softly, the corners of your lips lifting with quiet amusement.

The horse simply stood there for a moment before beginning to wander away, leaving you behind as it disappeared further along the mountain path. You watched silently, a faint smile lingering on your face until it was finally gone from sight.

Only then did you turn around. Your gaze lifting toward the steep hill towering before you, its rocky slope disappearing into the mist that cloaked Ravenhill.

The smile slowly faded from your face, replaced by quiet determination as the weight of what lay ahead settled heavily upon your shoulders.

Gritting your teeth, you drew a slow breath before stepping forward without another moment's hesitation, forcing yourself onward despite the exhausting climb as each step carried you higher and closer to the summit.

Your legs burned with the effort and your breathing gradually grew heavier, but you never once stopped moving until, at last, you reached the top.

The cold wind of Ravenhill greeted you immediately. It swept fiercely across the mountain peak, tearing through your hair and sending countless snowflakes swirling through the air.

You narrowed your eyes against the freezing gusts, carefully stepping across the uneven ground as the harsh weather made every movement more difficult.

Your cloak fluttered wildly behind you, forcing you to pull it closer around yourself as you searched the vast white landscape ahead. Your eyes moved from one side to the other, desperately looking for any sign of life.

It was then that something caught your attention—a trail of crimson staining the otherwise untouched snow, fresh drops continuing forward one after another, their stark contrast against the white sending an uneasy chill racing down your spine.

Your footsteps slowed right then. You could not tear your eyes away from the trail before you, watching as each drop of crimson marked a path through the snow.

With every passing second, your breathing grew quieter, shallower, as though your body already understood what your mind was desperately trying to deny.

A painful knot formed in your stomach. Your fingers slowly curled into trembling fists at your sides, your hands tightening as fear began to take hold. Your brows drew together, and your expression shifted as countless terrible possibilities rushed through your thoughts, each one more frightening than the last.

For a moment, you simply stood there. Unable to move. Unable to look away.

"...No..." you whispered beneath your breath, shaking your head ever so slightly as though refusing to believe what the trail before you might lead to.

Then you looked up. There laid someone ahead, entirely motionless. Your eyes widened instantly, as your heart seemed to stop beating altogether. Your body then began reacting before your mind could even have the time to process what it had seen.

You broke into a run without hesitation, stumbling through drifts that reached your knees, your boots slipping against the frozen ground as you desperately fought to reach them.

You fell hard onto your knees, the impact against the ice barely registering. The cold bit through you, but you ignored it, scrambling forward through the snow with desperate urgency until you finally reached the figure lying motionless before you.

"...Fili..." His name left your lips as nothing more than a fragile whisper. The moment you saw him, everything inside you seemed to stop.

Your expression fell apart, disbelief washing over your face as you stared at him, your mind refusing to accept what your eyes were seeing. He looked so still. Too still.

"No... no, no, no..." you repeated frantically, your trembling hands hovering uncertainly over him, moving from his shoulder to his arm before pulling back again. You were completely lost, panic was already consuming you with every thought in your mind.

"Please... please..." Your voice cracked as tears gathered in your eyes, blurring your vision. With shaking hands, you placed them over him, closing your eyes tightly as you reached deep within yourself and gathered every remaining trace of magic you had left.

A warm golden light slowly spread beneath your palms, flowing gently across him as your magic carefully mended every visible wound, every cut gradually fading until they were no longer there.

Hope flickered desperately across your tear-stained face as you waited, your breathing held captive by a fragile belief that perhaps—just perhaps—it had worked. "...Come on..." you whispered, your voice breaking beneath the weight of your desperation.

Your eyes remained fixed upon him, searching for the smallest sign of movement. "...Please wake up... please..." The words grew weaker with every repetition, carrying a desperation you could no longer hide.

The wounds that had once covered him slowly faded beneath the warmth of your magic, every cut and injury healing as though they had never been there. But nothing else seemed to have changed.

His eyes, though no longer clouded by pain, remained open, fixed upon a sky they could no longer see. No matter how desperately you wished otherwise, you knew deep within your heart that it was already too late. Your magic could heal what had been broken... but it could not call back someone who had already slipped beyond its reach.

You lowered your head, resting your forehead gently against his shoulder as the strength you had been desperately holding onto finally began to disappear.

The grief you had kept buried broke through all at once. Tears spilled freely down your cheeks, falling into the snow beneath you as your body trembled. A quiet sob escaped your lips, fragile and broken, carried away by the cold wind that swept across Ravenhill.

"...I'm sorry..." you whispered. Your voice was barely louder than the whispering wind around you, the apology leaving your lips with a pain that felt far too heavy to carry. It lingered in the silence of the mountain, spoken to someone who could no longer answer.

For what felt like an eternity, you remained there. Your arms stayed wrapped around his cold body, your thoughts empty, your mind unable to process anything beyond the unbearable ache in your chest.

Slowly, your head lowered until it rested against his chest. For a moment, you almost wished that if you listened closely enough, if you stayed there long enough, you would hear it again.

His heartbeat. The sound that had once meant he was still here.

"Liar..." you whispered, your voice trembling beneath the weight of your grief.

They were all liars. The promise of meeting again. The feast he'd had spoken of as though it was something certain, something waiting for them beyond this battle.

It was never supposed to end like this. Not this. Not a goodbye. Maybe you'd see yourself gone, but you just couldn't see them be the one to go.

Minutes had passed before you finally forced yourself to move. Slowly, and painfully, you pulled away, your hands lingering for a moment longer than they should have before you let go.

Standing again felt impossible. Your body moved as though it no longer belonged to you, every motion slow and unsteady beneath the weight of what you had lost. The grief threatened to pull you back down, to make you stay there forever.

But somehow, you managed to rise. Even with tears still clinging to your face, even with your heart feeling heavier than ever before, you stood.

Your tears did not cease, nor did the ache that hollowed out your chest. Yet somewhere beneath that crushing grief, something else began to take root. The sorrow that had threatened to consume you slowly hardened into a quiet, unyielding resolve.

Your eyes, once clouded with helplessness, now carried a different light, one sharpened by vengeance for the one who had torn everything away. Slowly, your trembling hands curled into fists until your nails bit into your palms.

You drew in a long, unsteady breath. It caught painfully in your throat before leaving you just as shakily, as though even breathing had become an effort. Piece by piece, you gathered the fragments of your shattered heart, forcing yourself to hold them together for just a little longer.

Because falling apart now would save no one.

Your gaze slowly lifted, finding the ancient stone staircase that climbed higher into the mist-covered heights of Ravenhill. The worn steps disappeared into the white beyond, their end hidden from sight, yet you stared at them as though there was only one path left for you to take.

Kili. His name echoed relentlessly through your mind, drowning out every other thought. At least you could still save him.

You had to.

Without giving yourself another chance to hesitate, you broke into a run. Your boots struck hard against the weathered stone, the sound echoing through the mountain as you climbed higher with every desperate step.

Your lungs burned for air, your legs protested beneath the strain, and the freezing wind cut through your cloak as though it wished to drag you back.

But none of it mattered. You pushed onward, ignoring the exhaustion clawing at your body, refusing to slow for even a second.

The higher you climbed, the louder the sounds of battle became. The clash of steel echoed through the frozen air, accompanied by the guttural cries of orcs and the sharp ring of blades striking against one another. Though hidden by the thick veil of mist, the battle felt impossibly close now, each sound urging you to move faster.

Your heartbeat pounded against your ribs, matching the frantic rhythm of your footsteps as you pushed yourself forward with every ounce of strength you had left, desperately praying that you had not arrived too late.

The ruined paths of Ravenhill twisted endlessly before you. Each turn seemed to promise an end, only to reveal another stretch of broken stone disappearing into the mist. The tower itself felt determined to delay you, making every passing moment seem unbearably long.

Then, at last, the path opened before you. You stumbled into a clearing overlooking the battle, your breath catching as your eyes searched desperately through the swirling mist.

And there, you saw him.

Kili was locked in combat against two orcs, his sword moving desperately as he fought to keep them at bay. Every strike forced him back another step, leaving him barely enough time to catch his breath. Relief hit you first, followed almost instantly by panic as you realized just how close you had come.

"Kili!" you screamed at the top of your lungs, your voice breaking as it echoed across the distance while you rushed toward him as quickly as your legs would carry you.

But the clash of weapons, and the desperate struggle surrounding him drowned out your voice completely, leaving him far too occupied to hear you.

Still, you refused to stop. Your fingers tightened around the hilt of your blade until your knuckles whitened, your breathing growing harsher with every step as you desperately fought to close the distance between you.

The cold wind lashed against your face, the mist parting only for brief moments before swallowing the battlefield once more, but your eyes never left Kili for even a heartbeat.

Then, without warning, movement burst from the drifting veil of mist beside you. A towering figure emerged with terrifying force, its hulking form cutting through the white like a nightmare brought to life. Bolg.

You barely had time to react. With brutal force, he swung at you, the sheer strength behind the blow leaving you no chance to defend yourself.

Your eyes widened in shock as the impact struck, hurling you violently across the battlefield before your body crashed against a jagged outcrop of stone.

Pain exploded through your back. The force of the collision drove every breath from your lungs, leaving you gasping soundlessly as the world spun around you.

All you could hear was the dull ringing in your ears, drowning out the cries of battle and the clash of steel until everything blurred into one endless, disorienting haze.

"Kili!..." your voice faded almost instantly into the chaos, swallowed by the ringing in your ears.

Your vision wavered as you struggled to lift your head, every movement sending another wave of pain through your body. The rock at your back felt impossibly cold, your limbs heavy and unresponsive as the scene before you dissolved into shifting fragments of movement and shadow.

Across the battlefield, Kili finally turned, his face snapping toward you the moment he recognized your presence. His eyes widened instantly, shock and fear flashing across his features as he saw you lying there among the chaos.

He shouted your name, his voice raw and desperate as he took an instinctive step forward, his focus breaking away from the fight for just a moment. Panic was written clearly across his face, but the sound of his voice reached you only as a distant echo, swallowed by the haze clouding your senses as your vision continued to blur and distort.

Then, slowly, warmth began to return to your body as your magic activated on instinct, golden light flickering faintly beneath your skin and spreading through your wounds.

Your breathing steadied little by little as the pain dulled, and your sight gradually sharpened, pulling the world back into focus as the blur around you slowly cleared.

Relief barely had time to settle before horror replaced it completely as your vision locked onto the scene unfolding ahead.

Your breath caught sharply in your throat as the scene you feared most began to play out directly in front of you once again.

There it was, currently happening before your eyes with terrifying precision. Every detail returned with cruel familiarity, as though fate itself had been waiting patiently to prove that it could never truly be escaped.

"...No..." Your voice was scarcely more than a breath, as you watched it all. You could only stare, frozen in place as your body refused to respond. Every muscle screamed at you to move, to run, to stop what was happening before your eyes, yet the pain still weighed heavily upon you, keeping you trapped in that single moment of helplessness.

With brutal ease, Bolg had seized Kili by the head, forcing him off balance as the young dwarf struggled against the crushing grip. In his other hand, Bolg lifted his heavy mace, the wicked, pointed end angling toward Kili's chest.

Time seemed to slow right then. Your eyes widened in horror, every instinct screaming at you to move as the image before you mirrored the one that had haunted your mind for so long.

In that split second, everything continued to slow as Kili was thrown back, his body lifting into the air before falling toward the ground. And as he fell, your eyes found his across the battlefield.

His expression softened the instant he saw you. Tears had already gathered in his eyes, reflecting the sorrow and fear written across your own face. But even then, there was something painfully familiar in his gaze.

He had seen you.

He had understood.

A small smile slowly appeared on his face, gentle and painfully familiar. The same kind of smile he always gave you, as though even now, even at the very end, he was still trying to comfort you in the only way he knew how.

Still trying to tell you that everything would be alright.

That was the last image you saw of him, before he fell still against the cold ground. And that sight shattered something inside you.

"No—!" The cry ripped from your throat, raw and broken, as your entire body trembled beneath the weight of what you had just witnessed. Tears blurred your vision almost instantly, spilling freely down your cheeks as you stared ahead in disbelief, unable to accept the reality before you.

Your hands reached out without thought, trembling as your fingers stretched toward him. As though closing the distance, even by a little, could somehow change what had already happened.

The world around you seemed to fade into a distant haze. Every sound muffled and every movement painfully slow, as if time itself had chosen to stop while you remained trapped within that single moment.

The silence that followed was then shattered by movement within the mist. A figure emerged slowly from the haze, and the moment Tauriel's eyes fell upon the scene before her, everything changed.

Her eyes widened the moment she saw what had happened, disbelief flashing across her face before it quickly twisted into something far more painful. Shock gave way to grief, and grief turned into a burning fury that consumed every trace of hesitation within her.

The pain in her expression was unmistakable. She had lost him.

And Bolg was the one standing before her.

Without a moment of hesitation, Tauriel charged toward Bolg, her blades flashing through the mist in a storm of rapid strikes. Every movement carried the weight of her grief and fury, each blow fueled by the pain she could no longer contain.

Bolg answered back with equal brutality, meeting her attacks with overwhelming strength as their weapons collided again and again. Each clash sent sparks flying into the cold air, scattering snow beneath their feet as neither of them showed any willingness to yield.

You forced yourself up, you had to. Your legs were still shaking violently beneath you, struggling to stand, while your vision still blurred with tears as you tried to move forward.

But even with every ounce of strength Tauriel poured into the fight, it was becoming clear that she was being pushed beyond her limits. Her anger and grief drove her forward recklessly, leaving openings that Bolg quickly exploited as his overwhelming strength forced her back step by step.

Then came one final, devastating blow. With that one final brutal strike, Tauriel was sent flying through the air, her body crashing down beside you in a heap of broken movement and shallow breaths. She landed hard against the ground near you, her strength momentarily gone as she struggled to push herself up.

You immediately turned toward her, your eyes widening in alarm as your chest rose and fell with sharp, uneven breaths. Seeing her lying there, wounded and unable to continue, something inside you finally broke.

"NO—!" rage erupted from you in a raw, broken scream as you saw her fall. Whatever control you had left disappeared in that instant, replaced by a rage so overwhelming that it burned away every trace of pain that still lingered.

You surged forward without a second thought, your grip tightening around your weapon as fury replaced grief. Your vision cleared right there and then, your focus narrowing until there was only one thing before you.

You ran, and every step burned. Your magic surged outward in waves, bending perception itself. The air around you then began to stretch and distort, slowing everything in Bolg's path while you moved through the gaps with unnatural speed.

Each strike you made came in bursts—fast, and precise with your blade flashing in and out of slowed motion as you exploited every opening.

Bolg swung at you with brutal force, but you slipped right through it. Your movements were sharp and unpredictable as time itself seemed to fracture around you like it did back at the battlefield.

Bolg's expression remained frozen between moments, unable to comprehend what had happened. Even the blood that spilled from the wounds seemed trapped in time, flowing outward in slow, crimson streams that caught the light before falling silently to the ground.

Your final strike landed with devastating precision. His massive frame staggered backward, his balance breaking as he dropped heavily onto one knee.

A low, guttural groan escaped him, his hand pressing against the ground as he struggled to remain upright. The strength that had once seemed unstoppable was finally beginning to fade.

You stood there barely holding yourself together after it was done, your entire body trembling from exhaustion as each breath left you harsh and uneven.

The adrenaline that had carried you this far was slowly disappearing, leaving only the unbearable weight of your injuries and the limits of your own body. With it, a cough suddenly ripped through you unexpected. You doubled slightly, as blood spilled from your lips then, dark droplets falling onto the untouched snow beneath your feet.

The sight blurred before you. The edges of the world began to fade again, your strength slipping away faster than you could grasp onto it this time. You could feel yourself slipping, your body barely holding itself together.

Then— A hand suddenly reached out from behind.

Before you had any chance to react, it seized you and dragged you backward with brutal force. Your body twisted in shock as your breath was stolen away, fingers tightening around your neck and cutting off the air you desperately tried to draw in.

Your eyes widened as you were forced to turn, and there he was—Bolg. Still alive, still standing.

His grip remained firm and unforgiving, holding you in place as though he had never intended to let you escape. His expression carried a cruel satisfaction, almost amused by your struggle.

"You bastard…" you forced out, the words strained and broken as you clenched your teeth. Both of your hands immediately reached for his arm, fingers digging into his thick skin as you fought desperately against the force holding you in place.

Bolg only smirked at you. A cruel, satisfied smirk slowly spread across his face as he watched your struggle, taking pleasure in the anger and helplessness written across your expression.

The sight alone sent something hot and violent burning through your chest, your lips curling into a quiet snarl as your eyes sharpened with fury.

You refused to give in. Even as your strength faded, even as your vision threatened to blur once more, your mind searched desperately for anything that could give you an advantage.

Your eyes moved past him, and thats when you saw it.

The edge of the cliff.

Gritting your teeth hard, you commited. With whatever strength remained within you, you shifted your weight, forcing your exhausted body to move despite the pain coursing through every part of you.

Bolg's grip tightened as he realised too late what you were attempting, but you had already made your choice. With one final burst of strength, you threw yourself forward, dragging him along with you.

Together, the two of you crossed the edge of the cliff, disappearing into the mist below.

The moment you went over the edge, everything turned black. The world vanished beneath you, as though the hill itself had swallowed the last pieces of your strength and left nothing behind but silence. The pain, the noise, the battle—all of it disappeared, fading into nothingness.

You had no sense of time as you drifted in and out of consciousness. The cold started fading, the battle as well, even your own thoughts dissolving into distant fragments you could no longer grasp.

Then, from the depths of that endless darkness, something stirred.

At first, it was no more than a distant echo, so faint you could scarcely tell whether it belonged to the world beyond or to the fading corners of your own mind. It called your name again and again, each time a little clearer, drawing you toward it as though guiding you through the thick veil that lay in-between.

Your consciousness answered reluctantly. Your eyelids fluttered, heavy as stone, resisting every attempt to lift them. A shallow breath caught in your chest as awareness returned in fractured pieces, each one slow to find its place, until the silence around you was no longer empty but filled with the quiet rhythm of another's voice.

With great effort, your eyes finally opened. Your vision blurred painfully as you forced your eyes open, shapes forming above you until a figure finally came into focus. There he was, the person kneeling close with urgent concern etched across his face.

"…Legolas?" Your voice came out as little more than a weak whisper, hoarse and fragile as you struggled to lift your head. The moment you tried to move, exhaustion immediately pulled through your body, every ache and injury reminding you of how close you had come to collapsing completely.

At the sound of your voice, Legolas' expression shifted. The tension in his face softened slightly, relief flickering through his eyes, though it was quickly overshadowed by the worry that remained. Leaning closer, his eyes remained fixed on you.

"Yes… it is I," Legolas answered quietly, his voice steadier than his expression as he studied you closely, his brows drawn together in concern. "You are alive… but barely," he added, his gaze scanning your condition before he spoke again, more firmly this time, "Tell me… are you in a state to stand?"

The moment his words reached you, something inside you snapped fully back into urgency. Pushing yourself up despite the pain, your movements were rushed and unsteady, your breath catching sharply as your body protested against the sudden effort.

"Kili…" you muttered immediately. Ignoring the concern in Legolas' eyes, you looked past him, already trying to push yourself forward as though determination alone could carry your failing body onward.

Legolas straightened slightly, his expression tightening as he stepped into your path. "No," he said firmly, his voice calm but unyielding as he looked down at you. "You will go nowhere in this state. You can barely remain upright."

"I don't care!" you snapped back, your voice breaking with desperation as you tried again to move forward, your hands shaking as you fought against your own weakness. "He's still there—if I don't—"

"Listen to me," Legolas interrupted, his tone sharper now. He leaned closer, his eyes searching yours with a mixture of worry and urgency, trying to make you understand what you refused to accept. "You will not reach him like this. You will fall long before you ever see him again."

You shook your head immediately. "No..." The word came out weak, yet filled with stubborn refusal. You tried to push yourself up again, your hands gripping against whatever support you could find as your trembling legs struggled beneath you. "I can still go."

Legolas' expression tightened as he watched you fight against your own body, his concern deepening when he saw how desperately you were forcing yourself forward.

"You are barely standing."

"I don't care." The answer came too quickly.

Your breath trembled as you fought against the tears threatening to spill again, your fingers curling tightly as you tried to force your unsteady body to move. Every part of you was exhausted, every movement painful, yet none of it mattered when your mind was still fixed on him.

"I have to save him, Legolas." Your voice cracked. "I can't just stand here while he's—" The sentence died in your throat.

"While he's there... cause I refuse to believe."

You looked back at him, and for a moment, all the walls you had built around yourself crumbled. The fear, the guilt, and the helplessness you had been carrying since the moment you saw Fili and Kili fall were all laid bare in your eyes.

"I was already too late once..." The confession came out as a fragile whisper, barely carried by the cold air between you. Your gaze lowered, your voice shaking as the weight of those words settled heavily upon you. "I can't let it happen again."

You looked back at him once more, tears gathering in your eyes as your determination fought against your breaking heart. "I cannot be too late again."

Legolas fell silent, his expression softening as he saw the desperation behind your stubbornness. He understood the pain in your eyes, but he also saw the truth you refused to acknowledge.

You were willing to break yourself completely if it meant reaching him.

A brief silence fell between you, heavy with the weight of everything neither of you could bring yourself to say. Before you could gather the strength to argue again, Legolas moved without warning, stepping forward and lifting you into his arms in one swift motion.

His hold was firm but careful, catching you before your weakened body could give out completely, his expression tightening as he felt just how little strength you had left.

"Legolas—!" you gasped in surprise, your eyes widening as your hands instinctively reached for his shoulder, startled by the sudden movement. For a moment, you tried to resist, your fingers tightening as if you could still force yourself out of his arms, but the exhaustion that had been consuming you finally won.

Your strength faded almost instantly, your body growing heavier against him as you reluctantly allowed yourself to lean into his support.

"Rest," he said softly, his voice carrying a quiet reassurance despite the worry still evident in his eyes. "I will not let you fall."

The fight within you slowly disappeared at those words. Your protest died before it could leave your lips, your grip gradually loosening as exhaustion finally overtook you.

Your head lowered against his chest, and for a moment, all you could feel was the warmth of his arms around you and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear.

It was calm. Steady. A quiet contrast to the chaos you had endured only moments before. The sounds of battle, the cries of the wounded, and the weight of everything you had lost slowly faded into the distance as that single heartbeat became the only thing you could focus on.

➽──────────────────────────────❥

Reaching the top in heavy silence, Legolas carried you through the mist-covered ground. His steps remained steady despite the exhaustion weighing upon him, his arms never loosening around you as though he feared that the moment he did, he would lose you too.

The moment your eyes lifted, you saw Tauriel—kneeling beside Kili's still form, her face streaked with tears and dirt, her expression shattered in a way you had never seen before.

Your chest tightened painfully at the sight, a dull ache spreading through you as Legolas carefully lowered you to the ground. But the moment your feet touched stone, you were already moving.

"Kili…" you breathed, your voice barely audible as you stumbled forward. Your legs gave out halfway, forcing you to catch yourself before pushing forward again, limping desperately until you finally collapsed onto your knees beside him.

The cold seemed to seep into your bones as you stared at his face—still, pale, and lifeless in a way that made your stomach twist violently. "No…" your lips trembled as tears filled your eyes almost instantly, spilling down your cheeks before you could even stop them.

Your hands lifted shakily, hovering over him as golden light began to flicker weakly between your fingers, your magic responding to your desperation before you could even control it. "No, no, no… Kili, please…" you whispered, your voice breaking as you leaned closer, your entire body shaking uncontrollably.

You pressed your hands over him, forcing every remaining ounce of strength you had into your magic, desperately willing it to reach him, to bring him back.

The golden glow grew brighter, spreading across your hands as the warmth of your power surrounded him. But the more you gave, the heavier your body felt, your breathing growing uneven as your strength slowly began to disappear.

"Don't do this… please don't do this…" Your voice cracked as tears fell freely, landing against his cold skin. "You can't go yet... you can't leave me..."

Your hands trembled harder as you fought against the exhaustion consuming you, refusing to stop even as your vision began to blur. "I can't lose another one..." you whispered, the words barely holding together as they left your lips. "Not you too..."

"Please, Kili... please just wake up..." you pleaded, your voice growing weaker with every word. "Please... just open your eyes..."

The golden light continued to burn between your fingers, but it began to flicker as your body struggled to keep up. Every breath became harder, every second draining what little strength remained within you.

"Stay with me... please..." Your voice fell into a broken whisper. "You can't just leave me like this... you're being too selfish..." But no matter how desperately you tried, no matter how much of yourself you poured into him, your body was already reaching its limit.

Still, you refused to stop, even as your magic burned hotter than it should, even as your hands shook uncontrollably over him.

Time continued to slip away, each passing moment feeling heavier than the last as the glow from your hands grew weaker and weaker.

Your breathing became ragged, every breath catching painfully in your chest as you fought to keep your eyes open, refusing to surrender no matter how exhausted you'd become.

Gritting your teeth, you forced more magic through trembling hands that could barely stay steady. "Come on..." you whispered hoarsely, frustration creeping into every word. "You can't just stop working now..."

You pushed harder. Your entire body trembled beneath the strain as another wave of magic flickered uncertainly around your hands before faltering once more.

"Don't be this useless..." you panted, never once looking away from Kili, your entire world narrowing to the hope that refused to die inside you. Blood slowly trickled from your nose, staining the snow beneath you, but you didn't even notice it.

"Come on... come on... come on-!" you repeated desperately, until the words finally dissolved into a cry of complete helplessness.

"Stop it!" Legolas' voice cut sharply through the silence as he stepped forward without another moment's hesitation. His hands closed firmly around your shoulders before pulling you back, gently at first, then with enough strength to finally break your reach.

Even as he drew you away, your eyes never left Kili. They remained fixed upon him, desperately memorizing every detail, as though looking away would mean accepting a truth you simply could not bear.

Only when the distance between you had grown did you finally blink, your gaze slowly lifting to meet Legolas'. His expression had completely changed.

The calmness he carried so effortlessly was gone, replaced by anxious eyes that searched every inch of your face. It lingered on the blood beneath your nose, your trembling hands, your pale complexion, and the way your breathing refused to steady.

Tears stained your cheeks, your eyes swollen and glistening as they met his. The concern in his gaze was quiet, almost unbearably gentle, and somehow that made it even harder to remain composed.

Your lips quivered as another sob threatened to escape, shaking your head weakly before the words tumbled out. "No... no, no..." you pleaded, your voice breaking. "I can heal him. I can still do it."

Legolas' brows drew together, pain flashing across his face as he held your shoulders a little more firmly. His voice was low, steady, and filled with reluctant sorrow. "No." He swallowed before continuing. "No... you cannot."

"I can!" you cried, trying to pull away from him despite your exhausted body. "I can, okay?! Just let me try!"

His grip tightened instinctively. "Look at yourself!" Legolas exclaimed, fear finally breaking through the restraint in his voice as his eyes searched yours desperately.

"You are exhausting every last piece of yourself. You are pushing your body beyond its limits." His breathing was uneven now, his composure cracking beneath the weight of watching you fall apart. "Must I lose you as well?" he asked quietly, the anger in his voice giving way to unmistakable fear. "If you do not stop... there may be nothing left of you."

"He's gone," Legolas continued quietly, the words leaving his lips with visible reluctance, carrying a sorrow that was gentle rather than unyielding.

His eyes lingered on you instead of Kili, as though he feared the truth would wound you more deeply than any blade ever could. Even as he spoke, his expression remained soft, the pain in his gaze betraying how difficult those two words had been to say.

The reality settled over you with crushing weight, slow and inescapable, until your eyes drifted back toward Kili once more. He layed utterly still, his face pale beneath the cold mountain light. The silence surrounding him was so loud, almost deafening to you.

Your lips parted slightly, but no words came, your gaze still refusing to leave him as though you could somehow will him to move if you simply looked long enough.

Yet nothing changed, and that unbearable stillness finally shattered the last of your hope. "I'm sorry..." you whispered, voice trembling so faintly it was almost lost to the wind.

You lowered your head, letting the tears slip quietly onto the snow as your shoulders gave a small, defeated shake. "I'm so useless... I always am..." The words came out barely above a breath, spoken more to yourself than anyone else, carrying years of doubt that seemed to surface all at once.

At last, the fight haddrained from your body. Every muscle that had been held together by desperation suddenly gave way right then, as your knees buckled beneath you.

Before you could fall, Legolas stepped forward without a thought, catching you securely with both hands. His movements were quick but careful as he steadied your weight against him.

His brows knit tightly together as he looked down at you, his eyes searching your face with unmistakable concern.

They lingered on your pale complexion, the tear tracks upon your cheeks, the blood beneath your nose, and the exhaustion that had stolen nearly all the strength from your body.

For a brief moment, he simply looked at you, his expression softening with quiet care, relief flickering across his face that he had caught you before you hit the ground

"Come," he said gently, his voice calm despite the worry that still lingered beneath it. "Perhaps my people will have a remedy for the strain your body has endured. There may yet be an antidote for this over exhaustion."

As he spoke, he carefully guided one of your arms over his shoulders before lifting the other into place, making certain your weight rested securely against him.

Though his movements remained composed, there was an unmistakable urgency behind them. His jaw set tightly without you noticing, and his eyes never straying far from you, as though his only concern now was getting you somewhere safe before you were next to fall victim to cruel fate.

Walking beside Legolas, you could barely remember how you had even left. Each step began to felt distant, as though your body was moving on its own while your mind drifted somewhere far behind.

Your eyelids were becoming heavier by the second, and no matter how hard you fought to keep them open, the darkness at the edges of your vision continued to creep inward.

You felt it. You knew what was coming.

The weakness spreading through your body was impossible to ignore now, settling into every limb until even lifting your foot became a struggle. You tried to take another step, gritting your teeth against the exhaustion, but your legs simply refused to obey.

They buckled beneath you without warning, your entire body pitching forward as your strength finally gave out.

The sudden movement caught Legolas off guard for only a moment. Instinct took over before thought could, and he immediately tightened his hold around you, preventing you from falling completely.

His brows drew together in alarm as he lowered himself quickly, carefully catching you before you could hit the frozen ground. One arm of his supporting your back while the other steadied you against him.

He gathered you into his arms without hesitation, cradling you close as his eyes searched your face with growing concern, every trace of composure beginning to crack beneath the fear of watching you fade before him.

You could barely hear him. His voice sounded distant, muffled beneath the relentless buzzing filling your ears. Yet you thought you heard him say your name. The sound came again, a little clearer this time. "...Are you alright?"

Those were the only words that truly reached you. The world then continued to blur, followed along with that strange buzzing wrapping around you in an almost comforting silence.

But beneath that stillness was still fear, quiet at first, before growing stronger with every shallow breath you took.

Your chest tightened painfully, your breathing becoming quicker and more uneven as you desperately tried to draw in enough air, only to feel your lungs refusing to cooperate.

"Legolas.." you managed to whisper, your voice trembling as your eyes searched frantically through the haze, trying to find his face among the blur.

Your gaze darted back and forth until you could just barely make out his outline leaning over you. "It's… so cold…" you said shakily, your breathing growing faster as panic slowly settled in.

"Why is it so cold?" Your lips trembled as you tried to move your hands, lifting them slightly toward him, but the effort barely lasted. Confusion flickered across your face when you realized how little you could feel, your fingers barely responding despite your desperate attempt.

"I... I can't feel my hands..."

The fear in your voice struck Legolas more deeply than any blade ever could. He could only stare back at you, his lips parting instinctively with no words abled to be spoken, every thought caught somewhere between panic and disbelief.

His eyes searched your face desperately, as though looking hard enough would reveal an answer, but there was none. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Legolas found himself without a solution. The helplessness that gripped him in that moment frightened him more than any enemy he had faced upon the battlefield.

He instinctively drew you closer, his arms tightening around you with careful strength, almost as though he could shield you from whatever was happening simply by refusing to let go.

And somehow, that was one of the few things you could still feel.

You shifted weakly against him, your trembling body seeking whatever comfort it could find as another wave of exhaustion washed over you. Your fingers curled faintly into the fabric of his tunic, holding onto him with the last bit of strength you had left.

"I'm so scared..." The confession barely left your lips. Your breathing trembled as your eyes fluttered, struggling to remain open, struggling to stay present.

"I don't want to die..." A shaky breath escaped you, and the fear you had been desperately trying to hold back finally broke through. "I don't want to..." Your voice cracked completely, the words dissolving into a quiet sob as you clung to him, terrified of the silence waiting beyond the pain.

Legolas' lips moved again. Nothing. Nothing left his trembling lips. His chest tightened until it almost hurt, his heartbeat racing as he watched you struggle in his arms, every shallow breath you took making his own feel heavier.

His hands shifted beneath you uncertainly, adjusting their hold as though terrified that even the slightest mistake would make everything worse. "You are not going to..." he finally managed, the sentence faltering before it was complete.

But his voice failed him. Moisture gathered at the corners of his eyes despite every attempt to remain composed. He lowered his head briefly, taking a slow, uneven breath as though trying to regain control of himself. But the fear remained, heavy and undeniable.

"No..." he whispered, almost to himself before looking back into your eyes. "No... you will not." The words trembled as they left him, fragile beneath the weight of everything he could not bear to lose. "You cannot."

Slowly, one of his hands rose to your face, his fingertips hesitating for the briefest moment before gently cupping your cheek.

Your skin was frighteningly cold beneath his touch, and the realization settled heavily inside him, stealing what little composure he had left. His thumb brushed softly across your cheek, lingering there as though trying to warm you, while another shaky breath escaped him.

"Forgive me..." he murmured, his voice scarcely louder than the wind. "I never meant to leave you alone in the forest." His eyes lowered briefly, unable to meet yours as guilt washed across his face.

"I was afraid... more afraid than I wished to admit. After what you said... I feared you were right." He swallowed hard, forcing the words out despite the ache in his throat. "So I walked away." At last, his gaze returned to yours, filled with quiet regret. "I was a coward."

Hearing his confession, you could not help the small smile that found its way onto your face, faint and fragile though it was.

Your lips curved ever so slightly despite the exhaustion weighing upon you. Your eyes softening with it, as you looked at him through the haze clouding your vision. It was almost bittersweet.

This... this was the very moment you had seen countless times within your visions, unfolding exactly as you had always feared it would.

"You know..." you whispered, your voice weak and uneven as you struggled to gather enough breath for each word. "I was... a bit hurt..." The smile never quite left your face, though it trembled faintly at the corners, carrying more sadness than resentment.

Legolas looked back at you, relief washing quietly across his features as he saw that smile, however faint it was.

His shoulders seemed to ease ever so slightly, and for the briefest moment, the panic in his eyes gave way to something gentler.

A small, rueful smile tugged at his own lips before he lowered his gaze. "I know," he admitted softly, the regret in his voice unmistakable. "It was... an awful thing for me to do, was it not?"

"It sure was..." you answered, letting out the faintest breath of what almost sounded like a laugh before a flicker of pain crossed your face. You closed your eyes for a moment, steadying yourself before speaking again. "...Pull me in closer."

He did not hesitate to. Legolas carefully adjusted his hold, drawing you closer against him with the greatest care. One arm supported your back while the other settled securely around you, his forehead nearly brushing yours as he instinctively tried to shield you from the bitter wind.

His warm breath fanned softly across your face, a strange contrast against the cold that had settled deep within your body. It felt unfamiliar now, distant somehow, yet it grounded you just enough to keep yourself from drifting further away.

Your eyes slowly lifted to meet his once more, lingering there before your lips parted again. "You lied to me too..." you murmured quietly. "I know what you said to me... back at the tree."

Legolas froze. The words struck him immediately, and for a long moment, he simply looked at you in silence. His expression faltered, guilt flickering plainly across his face as his eyes searched yours, unable to find a single excuse worth speaking.

"...That is on me," he said at last, lowering his head with a slow, defeated breath. "I told myself... I would speak the truth when I returned. I thought there would be time."

You studied him quietly before speaking again, your voice scarcely louder than a whisper. "Then... tell me now."

Legolas closed his eyes briefly, drawing one slow, unsteady breath before opening them again. They glistened with tears he no longer had the strength to hide.

"I love you," he whispered, the words leaving him with a tenderness that made his voice tremble. "I have loved you... ever since we were children. Through every passing season, every journey, every year we spent apart... it has always been you." His hand gently brushed your cheek, his thumb trembling against your skin.

"You are everything to me. More than I ever found the courage to tell you." His breath caught painfully.

"I cannot lose you," he continued, his voice cracking as tears finally slipped down his cheeks. "Not again." He shook his head helplessly, struggling to steady his breathing.

"For so long... I believed you had abandoned me. I thought you had left me beneath that tree... to wait for you through the passing years... alone... forever, like my..." His words caught in his throat, he just couldn't bring himself to finish. Instead, he lowered his forehead gently against yours, his shoulders trembling as quiet tears continued to fall.

His tears fell silently against your skin, warm against the cold that had already begun to consume you. Each drop carried a weight far heavier than words, a sorrow you had always known existed but never wished to see reflected in his eyes.

It was the pain you had imagined in your darkest moments—the unbearable ache of watching someone you loved break apart before you, the kind of hurt that settled so deeply within your heart that even breathing became difficult.

And yet, even then, even with everything slipping away, you found enough strength to offer him the smallest piece of yourself that remained. “Hey… you look ugly when you cry, you know?”

For a moment, Legolas said nothing. His forehead remained pressed gently against yours, his breath trembling as he stayed there, as though moving even an inch away from you would make this moment disappear.

His eyes remained closed, his expression broken in a way you had never seen before, before he finally gave the faintest nod. It was such a small movement, almost nothing at all, but it carried everything he could not bring himself to say.

A quiet laugh escaped you, fragile and weak, yet somehow still filled with the warmth he had always known from you. The sound was quiet, but it carried a faint warmth that made the sadness between you feel a little lighter, even if only for a moment.

"You crybaby…" you whispered, the words teasing, though your voice carried a tenderness that hurt far more than any goodbye could. Your eyes remained on him, trying to hold onto the sight of him for as long as you could, as though memorizing every detail would somehow allow you to keep him with you.

Silence embraced the two of you afterward. Neither of you spoke for a while, allowing the quiet to stretch as your gaze remained on him, memorizing the face before you.

Then, after what felt like you had gathered every last bit of strength left within you, your lips parted once more, the words you had been holding back finally finding their way forward.

"I love—" The confession barely escaped before your voice faded away, the remaining words never reaching the air as your entire body suddenly went still.

The warmth and strength that had kept you holding on seemed to disappear all at once, leaving you limp in his arms as your fingers loosened.

Feeling the absence of your breath against him, Legolas slowly lifted his head.

For a moment, he did nothing.

He simply stared. His mind refusing to understand what he was seeing, refusing to accept the silence that had replaced your trembling breaths only moments before. He remained frozen, as though the world itself had stopped with you, before the fragile composure he had been desperately clinging to began to fracture.

His eyes widened, and the calm he had desperately tried to maintain shattered completely.

"No..." he whispered, his voice barely audible as he searched your face for any sign of response. He spoke your name softly at first, almost as if calling you back gently would be enough, but when you did not answer, panic quickly began to take over.

"Please..." he breathed, his voice trembling as his hands moved to hold your face carefully.

His hands moved to your face, holding you with a tenderness that almost seemed afraid to exist. His fingers trembled despite how carefully he touched you, his thumbs brushing against your cold cheeks as though he could somehow bring back the warmth that had been there moments ago. "Open your eyes... please."

The word was no longer a request. It was a prayer.

But the silence that answered him was cruel.

Every passing second carved deeper into his heart, each moment without your voice, without your laughter, without the warmth of your presence, becoming something he could not bear.

Legolas pulled you closer against him, holding you with a desperation that bordered on fear. His arms wrapped around you as though he could protect you from this, as though refusing to let go could somehow undo what had happened.

As though he could hold onto you tightly enough that fate itself would be forced to return you to him.

His forehead lowered against yours once more, his breath shaking as he closed his eyes.

And for the first time in a very long time, Legolas Greenleaf—the elf who had stood fearless before armies and darkness—was left powerless against the one thing he could not fight.

The thought of losing you.

He shook his head slowly, almost as though denying the reality before him could somehow make it disappear.

Tears gathered in his eyes, blurring the world around him as his breathing grew uneven, each breath heavier than the last. "No... no, please..." The words trembled from his lips, barely holding together beneath the weight of the fear consuming him.

The sight of you like this was something he could not bear. His hands trembled as he gently shook you again, calling your name with growing desperation. "Please... stay with me." His brows furrowed, his face twisting with helplessness as tears finally slipped down his cheeks.

Slowly, he lowered his head until his forehead rested against yours once more, his breath shaking as he struggled to keep himself from falling apart.

"I told you everything..." he whispered, his voice fractured by the pain he could no longer contain. "I finally did... but why must you leave me now?"

His fingers remained against your cheek, refusing to move away, holding onto the last trace of warmth he could find. "I love you," he said quietly, "Please... do not leave me alone again."

Legolas could no longer hold himself together.

His arms tightened around you, drawing your cold, motionless body closer until there was scarcely any space left between you.

He cradled you carefully, his fingers trembling as they clung to you. Somehow, he was still afraid the slightest careless movement might hurt you.

A broken sound escaped him then, a quiet whimper that he could no longer hide as his face twisted with grief and disbelief.

For a moment, he stayed like that, refusing to move, refusing to accept the silence that surrounded him. He listened desperately, waiting for the sound he just had been hearing moments ago.

But there was nothing. The steady rhythm he had held onto, the proof that you were still there with him—was gone.

Tears slipped down his face without restraint now, falling silently as he pressed closer, his lips trembling as he struggled to form words.

Each breath grew harder than the last as he remained perfectly still by your side, unwilling to pull away from you.

His hand moved slowly to your cheek again, his thumb brushing gently against your skin as though memorizing the feeling of you one last time.

He stayed like that for what felt like an another eternity, still listening. Listening for the quiet rhythm that had always been there. But alas, silence answered him back yet again.

His expression crumpled completely as the truth finally settled over him, while another helpless sob broke free. All he could do was hold you closer, his embrace becoming almost instinctive.

The wind swept softly across, stirring strands of his hair as he remained kneeling upon the frozen stone, his arms never once loosening around you.

He held you there in silence, his forehead still against yours, his arms wrapped around you as if love alone could keep you with him.

It was too late. Fate had claimed you, just as you had seen in every vision that had haunted your waking hours.

No matter how desperately you had tried to outrun it, no matter how many choices you had changed or sacrifices you had made, it had found you all the same.

In the end, the future you feared had not disappeared—it had only led you here. The mountain stood silent, whilst the wind continued to swept gently across. Snow drifted between the ruins, settling quietly upon the scarred earth as though the world itself had begun to mourn.

Everything continued as it always would. Everything except you. Legolas remained there motionless. His eyes never left your face, afraid that the moment he looked away, this would become real in a way he could no longer deny further.

His fingers still rested against your cheek, unwilling to surrender even the smallest point of contact, while his arms held you as carefully as if you might awaken from nothing more than a deep sleep.

But you never did.

All the words left unsaid, all the moments stolen by fear, all the years spent waiting—they lingered between you now, far heavier than either of you had ever imagined.

The confession had come. The truth had finally been spoken. Yet it had arrived only when there was no time left to live it.

This was fate.

➽──────────────────────────────❥

[fictionalhotonespolls]

LEGOLAS LOTR

I wonder how he'd react to knowing his name is the go-to nickname for archers in fiction. Probably more so than Robin Hood at this point.

[natalia-lady-targaryen]

A snowy day and Adar's warm embrace

[annoyinglysparklygalaxy]

[annoyinglysparklygalaxy]