Legolas makes a decision despite orders....

-**--**-

Legolas knew that Aragorn was struggling to hold back his laughter and wished that he were closer so that he could smack the ranger across the head.

The elf had freely given up his weapons… Those that happened to be obvious of course; there were still five daggers hidden upon his body, two against his wrists, two tucked into his boots and one lying against his spine.

And Legolas had no intention of giving those up.

Mithrandir gave Legolas a bland look that clearly stated that he knew exactly what Legolas had not given up… But the white wizard’s eyes were laughing just as much as Aragorn’s were.

Eomer had known physical pain before… But he also knew that the emotional pain was far a greater thing than any sort of physical pain.

He had lost his father and mother at a young age. He had watched countless friends; companions die at the hands of accidents and orcs. He had been in the same room when his cousin Theodred weakly drew in his last breath.

But nothing could have ever prepared him for the sight of his baby sister lying bloodied and broken upon a field of battle.

He threw shield and sword away in his haste to get to his sister… His baby sister…

He had screamed his agony… Not caring who heard… His every thought focused upon his baby sister.

Her face was etched with a terror that pierced Eomer’s heart. Her golden hair was coated here and there with the black blood of orcs and the red blood of her own body.

He had pulled her onto his lap, begging her to be alive.

And then it was then when he searched for help that his gaze landed upon his uncle lying under his horse… Eyes closed.

Lifting up Eowyn, Eomer stumbled to his uncle’s side. But Theoden-King was dead.

Dead.

 Burying his face into Eowyn’s bloodied shoulder, Eomer wept…  

This is based on the look on Legolas' face as he comes upon Boromir pledging alligance to Aragorn with his final breaths...

-*/-*/-*/

It was too easy to fall prey to this particular lie.

The lie was obvious…

Too obviously apparent to any outsider, but Legolas wasn’t an outsider. He was one of the fellowship. One of the nine chosen by Lord Elrond himself to be sent on this perilous quest to return the One Ring to the fires of Mount Doom.

Legolas sighed, rubbing a hand against his suddenly chilled skin.

Aragorn was bent over the boat that held Boromir, to take the Gondorian soldier on his final journey.

‘Yes.’ Legolas thought sadly… It was too easy to believe the lie that the entire fellowship would return from this particular venture.

He didn’t know how he started thinking like that, but he could only guess that because he was so used to Elven company, that his mind automatically transformed his dwarven, human and hobbit companions into Elves as well.

Elves were far from impervious from danger, but they usually had stealth, surprise and superior thinking against those they were fighting…

Legolas had seen many an elf die… Indeed he had held many an elf in his arms as they gasped their last breath.

But this was different…

He didn’t know how…

He didn’t know why…

It was almost as if he had ridiculously expected the Valar to grant them safe passage straight to Mordor.

His thinking was a lie…

Gandalf was gone…

Boromir was gone…

Merry… Pippin…

Gone…

Legolas felt as though his very breath had been sucked from his lungs.

He lowered his eyes respecting the fallen warrior and then with a heave they pushed the Elven made boat to it’s final journey.

But they… Aragorn… Gimli… Legolas…

So different in each race… But tied together by one mission…

And a mission they needed to see through...

No... Merry and Pippin would not be abandoned to torment...

Not if Legolas could help it...