Rating: PG-13 to R (Angst... proceed with caution)

Summary: When Legolas is forced to make a decision that could very
well determine the fate of all Middle Earth, what will he do? And
what consequences will his choice have?

// = elvish translations
# = flashbacks
* = thought

Disclaimer and Acknowledgements: As in Chapter 1

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Chapter 14 - Too Late For Regrets

It seemed like he had been walking forever. And yet he was only just down the hall from his room. He looked around, confused, and found nothing.

Legolas felt a cold chill run through his body. Something was very wrong.

As he walked through the hallways of the House of Elrond, his dread only increased with each step. Everything was far too quiet, and he had not seen anyone at all throughout the house, save his own reflection. Fear enveloped him, and he quickened his pace. He turned the next corner, and what he saw froze his movement, mid-step. The usually pristine floor of the hall was covered in blood, its dark color contrasting greatly with the light tone of the decor around it. Legolas allowed his eyes to wander up the hall slowly, and his heart clenched in his chest, all air leaving his lungs. In the middle of the pools of red were four dark haired figures, lying completely still.

"No..."

The elf prince found himself kneeling next to the first, Lord Elrond, before his brain had even registered his movement. The elf Lord's eyes were closed, and tears began welling up in Legolas' eyes. He reached out and pressed his fingers to the side of the other elf's neck.

Nothing. Lord Elrond was dead.

Without giving himself time to even comprehend what was going on, his legs had carried him to Elladan and Elrohir. The elder twin had his arms protectively wrapped around his brother. They were deathly pale, and with a shaky hand Legolas reached out to check their pulse, as he had done with their father...

His hand fell distractedly to the ground. Dead. Legolas' mind was reeling. What had happened here? Where was the Rivendell guard? And Glorfindel and Erestor? His brain was still fogged from the pain of his attack earlier that day, and he could not force it to think clearly. His thoughts were shattered when he heard a moan from a few feet away. His head shot up, and he quickly ran to the source of the noise. Aragorn.

His friend was covered in blood, and he had a deep wound running the length of his chest. Legolas felt the tears finally make their way down his face, as he could no longer hold them back.

"Aragorn..." Legolas' voice trailed off as the human grabbed hold his wrist, gripping it painfully. Legolas jumped slightly in shock, but attributed it to the fact that Aragorn was so badly hurt.

"Legolas," he started, and there was a bitterness in his voice that had never been there before, "you should not have come here."

Legolas shook his head, trying desperately to grasp what his friend was trying to say. He didn't seem to be making any sense.

"Aragorn... I... I don't understand."

The ranger repeated himself, his voice hard and cold. "You should not have come here, Legolas."

In that moment, the elf felt and icy fear grip his heart, as though it were trying to tear the organ from his body.

"This is your fault Legolas. You should have stayed out in the forest."

"Aragorn..." Legolas closed his eyes and shook his head against his friend's words, although he knew them to be true.

"It is your fault that my father, and my brothers are dead. You are weak, Legolas. And because of your weakness, you have killed us all."

Legolas began to shake his head more emphatically.

"No." The word was merely a whisper. Fresh tears fell from his eyes, as the elf's mind confirmed everything the ranger was saying.

*You killed them. You are weak. It is your fault that your friends are dead. You are pathetic. It's your fault.*

"Strider... I..." Legolas used the human's nickname, hoping to somehow make up for what he had done, but he knew it would matter little. He had killed his best friend and his family. How could he ever be forgiven? How could he ever forgive himself?

"It's your fault. You are weak. You are to blame, Legolas. It's your fault."

And with those last words, Aragorn's eyes slid shut and he fell into the waiting arms of death.

Legolas collapsed onto his friend and slipped his arms around him, crying softly.

"Strider, no. Please don't leave me. I am sorry. Please... matho foech, mellon nin. Matho foech..." His voice trailed off, overcome by the sobs wracking his body. His friends were dead, and it was his fault. He tightened his embrace on Aragorn's body.

//I am sorry, my friend. I am sorry.//

"No! Strider, no. Come back... please, Estel... no..."

"Legolas?"

Aragorn, who had fallen asleep on the floor next to the elf's bed, sprang swiftly to his feet. "Legolas? What's wrong?" As he sat on the edge of the bed, the man realized Legolas was caught in the throws of a dream. His eyes were pressed tightly shut, and he could see the shimmering tracks of tears on his cheeks in the dim moonlight.

"Aragorn..." Legolas shook his head slowly in his sleep. Worriedly, Aragorn placed a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Wake up, Legolas. I'm right here. It's all right. Ea na gwiil. Na nefach, mellon nin. Gwiil."

//Be at peace. I am here, my friend. Peace.//

Suddenly Legolas jerked into a sitting position. He looked around the room nervously for a moment, not quite comprehending what had happened. Then his gaze fell on Aragorn.

"Estel?" Legolas looked like a deer in headlights, and it unnerved the man greatly. He had never seen his friend so openly frightened before.

"Yes, I'm here, my friend. It will be all right." Aragorn reached out to grasp the elf's shoulder. He was surprised when Legolas pulled him into a tight embrace.

"Estel... matho foech. I am so sorry, my friend. I'm sorry."

Aragorn did not quite understand why the prince was apologizing, but decided this was not the time to question it. Instead he wrapped his arms around Legolas' shoulders and said nothing.

A few minutes later, Aragorn released the elf. "You should get some sleep, Legolas. You need rest."

The elf nodded slightly and lay back down in the soft bed. Aragorn pulled a chair from the corner of the room over to the bedside and sat down in it, keeping a close watch over his friend. Soon, he saw the elf's eyes unfocused. Legolas drifted slowly to sleep. A peaceful sleep, unplagued by guilt-ridden dreams.

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To Be Continued...