Title: The Flame's Final Stand (1/2) Author (including email): Dhvana (Dhvana@aol.com) Pairing(s): Legolas/Aragorn Rating: R Summary: The members of the Fellowship are being murdered, and Legolas is the next victim. Disclaimer: Not mine. Tolkien's. They're all his. I just support the madness. Warning: Mild slash, some non-consensual. Multi-character deaths. Violence. Angst. This isn't going to be pretty, folks, so please heed the warning. Author's Note: I woke up Halloween morning and this has been haunting me ever since. Apparently, I wanted to write a horror story, so here it is. Please, let me know what you think. The Flame's Final Stand Legolas paused in his headlong rush through the forest. Using a tree for support, he waited, every muscle in his body tensed and ready to flee. If only he could catch his breath fast enough in order to hear, but his lungs were burning from his exertion and his gasps for air blocked out all sounds around him. Not that it mattered--even if he did regain control of his breathing, the pounding of his heart would have deafened him. The creature following him was running him to death. All spare energy sources were depleted--his only motivations were terror and desperation. He hadn't slept or eaten for days, and had still only just barely kept ahead of whatever it was that followed. Closing his eyes, he rested his head against the tree, almost immediately forcing them open. It was so tempting to just fall asleep, but he couldn't. He had to draw it away from Aragorn and give the King a chance to survive, though there was little hope. Of the nine that had started out all those years ago, they were the only two left, or so he assumed--Gandalf had disappeared six months ago and no one had heard anything from him since. If he had been alive, Legolas was certain he would have been there at the Hobbits' funeral. The Elf shuddered at his thoughts, at the image that had haunted his dreams for three months. He hadn't arrived in time to save them or see them laid to rest, but the sight of their final resting place was forever etched in his mind. Frodo had been the first to die, followed by his faithful Sam--they would now remain at each others' sides for eternity. Merry was the next, Pippin taken only minutes later after trying to save his friend. Now all that remained were four tiny graves and a statue of the four friends with their arms around each other placed at the head of the site. When Legolas was first shown the memorial, he had fallen to his knees and wept, his tears falling on the four broken mounds of dirt that held the bodies of his friends. His heart had grown heavy and nearly tore with grief at their loss, and even now, the pain was almost more than he could bear. A twig snapped and he jumped to attention, his eyes wild as he searched the forest for any sign of his pursuer. Though he could see nothing, he didn't dare stay. Forcing his legs into motion, he began to run again, not caring where he went so long as it was away from Minas Tirith. He had to save Aragorn. One of them had to survive. It had torn the King apart to know that someone had murdered the Hobbits--so full of life and joy--who would dare to harm them? But their killer had never been found, not a trace of the monster remained. Though Aragorn had vowed vengeance and every Hobbit and half the King's army had scoured every inch of Hobbiton and the surrounding countryside, it was to no avail. The killer wasn't found anywhere near the Hobbits. It was Gimli who found the creature, and he suffered for it. Legolas choked back a sob, tripping as tears blotted his sight. He fell, scraping his hands and knees as he hit the forest floor, but he couldn't stop to check his injuries. Scrambling to his feet, he continued to run. He felt as if he had been running for weeks, or even years. He was finding it hard to remember a time when this demon wasn't after him. He knew he was nearing his end, and that the creature would soon catch him. He would die alone, like Gimli, praying only that those dear to him escaped. The Dwarf had been discovered by Faramir on a road leading to the capital city. Legolas could picture clearly the Human's devastation as he carried the lifeless form into the King's hall. Gimli had been found with one of his own axes buried deep inside his skull. At seeing the Dwarf, Aragorn had erupted into a rage of grief and fury, demanding to know how this could happen on a bushy road so close to his city, but there were no answers to be found. Silently, Legolas had lifted his dearest friend from Faramir's arms. He prepared the Dwarf himself for the funeral, washing the blood from the thick hair, arranging it to cover the gaping hole in Gimli's head. He combed and braided the beard that was the Dwarf's pride and joy, then dressed the cold body in his finest clothes. Wrapping the stiff hands around Gimli's favorite axe, Legolas's preparations were complete. Leaning over, the Elf then kissed the Dwarf's icy lips. "Farewell, my friend. You gave me strength when I needed it most, but I wasn't there when you needed me. Forgive me, Gimli, and give me the strength to keep him safe, for he is what we all fought for, him and the world we helped to create. I'm sorry I wasn't there. I would give anything to be lying there and have you watching over me. I'm sorry I failed you, Gimli. I'm sorry--" Sobs consumed any other words he might have spoken as he buried his head in his arms and wept. Aragorn had found him there hours later, seemingly comatose except for the expressions on his face which kept changing from grief to anger to guilt. Lifting the Elf in his arms, Aragorn had carried Legolas to his room. Placing him in bed, he then curled up next to him. Holding him tight, he offered Legolas what little warmth and comfort he could. "Why?" Legolas asked, finally breaking the silence. "Why would anyone do this? The Hobbits, Gandalf, Gimli--" his throat clenched shut as he said the Dwarf's name, tears pricking at his eyes once more. "I don't know," Aragorn said, resting his cheek against the Elf's. "All I know is that if we really are the only two left, I will do everything in my power to keep you safe. I cannot lose you, Legolas. Your death would be the end of me." Legolas turned to look at the King, his eyes red with sorrow, his face pale, almost gray in color. "You are all I have left, Aragorn. You are all that is keeping me alive. If you die, my heart will break, and I will be quick to follow you." "Then it seems we must stay alive, or we will both perish," Aragorn said, his mouth twitching into a half-smile, and Legolas gave a tentative smile back. "That's better. Now, you should rest. The funeral is tomorrow, and I know how difficult it will be for you." Legolas shook his head. "I don't want to sleep. My dreams are filled with images of the Hobbits' graves, of Gimli staring at me with those empty eyes, even Boromir is there, his body filled with arrows. I can't make them stop--they won't leave me alone. They're always there, always, no matter what I do, no matter what I say. They're always watching me--" "Legolas!" Aragorn shouted, shaking the Elf whose body was trembling, his voice edged with hysteria. "Stop it!" the Human cried, tears falling from his eyes. "No more, please!" He took the Elf in his arms and they held each other, afraid to let go. "No more," he whispered. "I'm sorry," Legolas said, pained to have caused his friend any grief. "No, don't be," Aragorn said, holding Legolas's face in his hands. He gently brushed the tears away with his thumbs, wondering how things could be so wrong that an Elf had to cry. "I miss them, too. My nightmares are as terrible as yours, but we will get through this, I promise. We will find the one who did this, we will mourn their loss, and we will survive, together." Legolas wrapped his arms around the King. "I love you, Aragorn." "And I you. Now, get some sleep." "You may tell me to sleep all you want, but it won't help. Rest will not come for me tonight, or any other, not until their killer has been found and I know you are safe." "No harm will come to me while I am here. You shouldn't worry so much." "I cannot help it," he smiled, a true smile, and Aragorn felt his heart lighten. Not entirely sure of what he was doing, he leaned down and kissed the Elf. Legolas immediately drew back, feeling both excited and confused. "Aragorn, what are you doing?" "Comforting you," he said, kissing the graceful neck, refusing to be deterred. "Comforting us both, unless you want me to stop." Closing his eyes, Legolas relished the caresses of the Human's lips across his chest. It had been so long, not since before the Fellowship, before Arwen. "No," he whispered, "don't stop." "I have missed you," Aragorn said, once more claiming Legolas's lips. They quickly removed their clothes and began devouring each other. Hours later, Aragorn was reassured that Legolas was finally asleep when his breathing grew even and his open eyes stared distantly into another world. Smiling, he kissed the Elf lightly so as not to wake him, then slid out of bed. He had many things he needed to do in order to prepare for the funeral, and he had to write Arwen. After the Hobbits' deaths, he had sent her to Lorien so as not to risk any harm to her. He had been avoiding telling her about Gimli--it was too soon, too painful to even write about, but he had to tell her about Legolas. He couldn't hide something like that from her. She had known it would happen eventually, and he had sworn he would be honest with her. Stealing one last look at the sleeping Elf to give him the courage he needed, he smiled and gently closed the door. As the night passed, Legolas stirred in his sleep. Something was disturbing his rest, seeping into his dreams. He could feel the darkness surrounding him and he whimpered, trying to push it away. His skin began to crawl and he moaned as the darkness drew closer. A figure stepped forward from the corner of the room, two eyes burning brightly with red flames as he gazed at the Prince. "There is no escape, little Elf," he whispered, the voice deep and harsh, roughened by centuries of malevolence. "Only two of you remain and I will have you both." The figure moved another step forward and Legolas shouted, his eyes clearing as he woke. Jumping from the bed, he grabbed the knife from the boot discarded on the floor and assumed a fighting stance, ready to defend himself against his attacker. His sharp eyes searched the room for the enemy, but there was no one there. He did another quick search, and then allowed himself to relax. This was getting to be too much. His nightmares had too strong a hold on him--he had to find the one who was doing this. A shiver ran through his body and again Legolas was alert, scouring the room with his eyes. It hadn't been a nightmare. It was real--the killer had been in his room. He could feel it, but if the creature wasn't there now--Aragorn! Quickly drawing on his breeches, Legolas grabbed his twin blades and ran out the door. "The King! Where is he?" the Elf demanded of the first guard he saw. "In his study, my Lord," the Man replied, his eyes wide with shock at Legolas's vehemence and the drawn blades in his hands. "Is something wrong?" "Let's hope not," Legolas said, continuing his mad dash down the hall. Running up a flight of stairs, he ran halfway through the corridor and burst into Aragorn's study. "Aragorn!" The King jumped at the sudden appearance of the Elf and the panic in his voice. "Legolas, what it is?" The Elf gave the room a quick search, and seeing no one there other than Aragorn, the tension eased from his body. Tossing his swords onto a chair, he took Aragorn into his arms. "Thank the gods you are safe." "Of course I'm safe," he replied, sounding bemused. "What's wrong?" "The killer is here--I sensed him in my room, but he was gone by the time I woke up. I was afraid..." Legolas paused, staring into Aragorn's eyes. "I was afraid he'd found you and I would be too late." "I am fine, Legolas, which you can clearly see," Aragorn smiled, caressing the worried Elf's cheek, "but your words disturb me. If it was anyone else, I would think they were simply suffering from the lingering affects of a nightmare, but knowing you as I do, I will order a search of the Keep immediately." "Thank you," he said, turning to leave when Aragorn grabbed him by the arm. "Where do you think you're going?" Legolas looked down at himself, his body clad only in the hastily tied breeches. "It would be inappropriate for me to be seen with the King dressed like this." "If the King enjoys seeing you dressed like that, who will object?" Aragorn said, wrapping his arms around the Elf's waist and kissing him. Legolas enjoyed the kiss for a few minutes, then gently removed himself from Aragorn's grip. "We will have to continue this later. You need to order a search of the Keep, and I need to prepare for Gimli's funeral." All joy faded from the King's face and Aragorn nodded soberly, his heart tightening in his chest. "You are right. I'm sorry. It's just that, for a moment, I was able to forget." "Tonight, Aragorn," Legolas said as he brushed his lips across his lover's, then walked towards the door. "We will help each other forget tonight when I will need you more than I have ever needed you before." "I love you, Legolas," he said before the Elf could disappear into the hall. Legolas turned around and smiled so brightly and with so much joy that Aragorn couldn't help but return his smile. "I love you, too." —— Title: The Flame's Final Stand (2/2) Author (including email): Dhvana (Dhvana@aol.com) Pairing(s): Legolas/Aragorn Rating: R Summary: The members of the Fellowship are being murdered, and Legolas is the next victim. Disclaimer: Not mine. Tolkien's. They're all his. I just support the madness. Warning: Mild slash, some non-consensual. Multi-character deaths. Violence. Angst. This isn't going to be pretty, folks, so please heed the warning. Author's Note: I woke up Halloween morning and this has been haunting me ever since. Apparently, I wanted to write a horror story, so here it is. Please, let me know what you think. The Flame's Final Stand The funeral was as horrific as Legolas had thought it would be. He barely made it to the end when Gimli's kin took the body of the fallen Dwarf and prepared it for transport back to his home. After it was over, Legolas hid himself from all sights and sounds until nightfall, when he sought out the solace of Aragorn's arms. Their lovemaking was passionate, desperate even, as they fought off the heaviness of death which had left its impression on their lives. As morning drew near, Legolas rose. Dressing quickly and arming himself, he kissed the sleeping King and left Minas Tirith. He was determined to draw the evil away from Aragorn, defeating it if possible. If not, he wanted to give his love every chance to escape. From the city walls, fiery eyes watch the Elf's flight, a deep chuckle causing all within hearing to shudder in their sleep. "Run, little Elf. It does not matter. I will find you." As the days passed, Legolas saw his friends' faces while he ran, the members of the Fellowship, Elrond and Galadriel, Elrohir and Elladan, Arwen, Eowyn, Eomer, Faramir. They were reminders of the sacrifices that had been made to rid Middle Earth of darkness, a darkness that was drawing closer to him. Turning his head to glance behind him, a twig sliced across his right eye. Crying out at the sudden pain, his hand flew to protect his face and he stumbled. Thrown off balance by the damage to his eye, he was unable to catch himself in time, he fell. As he landed, his arm snapped and the rush of pain caused him to lose consciousness. Even as he lost the fight to stay awake, he was aware of the sounds of footsteps drawing near, and he knew he had been found. Light began to seep through his eyelids and slowly, he found the strength to force them open. He was propped up against a tree, his right arm lying useless at his side. His injured eye was blurry and stung when he blinked, but his left eye was able to focus on the figure kneeling down in front of him. "Aragorn?" Legolas frowned. "What are you doing here? You have to leave, now, before he finds you!" A rumbling laugh filled the air, the sound unnatural as it passed between the King's lips. Legolas gasped and tried to move away, the effort nearly causing him to black out again. "Oh no you don't, little Elf," the harsh voice said as a heavy hand slapped him back into wakefulness. "I want you to be alert for this." Legolas looked into his beloved's eyes, but the gray irises he adored had been replaced by red flames. "This cannot be," he whispered. "We destroyed you!" "You did indeed, along with everything I worked so hard for, but how could you think I would just vanish and let you go unpunished?" The creature settled down next to Legolas, acting as casual as an old friend sitting down for a chat. Legolas could feel the heat emanating off of the Human's body at an unnatural rate, and he knew it would eventually consume his beloved if Sauron remained in it much longer. "Aragorn..." The name escaped the Elf's lips before he could stop it, and Sauron smiled. "Aragorn is still here. I am simply borrowing his body until I am finished. My time is nearly up, but I think I have enough left to finish you." Sauron took hold of the Elf's chin and forced him into a kiss. Legolas struggled, but could not escape the brutal grip. When he was finally released, the Elf turned and spat out the foul taste from his mouth. "Does Aragorn know?" he demanded, glaring at the monster. "Not until now, when it no longer matters, but I know what you're wondering. To conserve my energy, I remained dormant inside of him, only emerging to destroy you. Every minute you've been with this body has been spent with him, though I admit, I enjoyed it just as much as he did." Leaning over, Sauron began unlacing the Elf's breeches. Legolas looked away, trying to move his broken arm in hope that he could escape the coming indignity by passing out, but to his dismay, he remained awake. The too-warm hand wrapped around his elfhood and slowly began stroking it. Cursing his body for responding to the monster's caresses, Legolas fought his growing erection as best he could, but it was of no use. "Gandalf was the first to go," Sauron said, licking the Elf's silken cheek. "If I had waited to kill him, I knew he would grow suspicious as the others died, so he had to die. I remember the despair in his eyes just before it was over. 'How could I not know?' he asked as I took off his head. I told him it was because he was a fool, but I don't think he could hear me, so I kicked both body and head into the river and he was gone. Next was the Ringbearer." Legolas groaned softly at the mention of Frodo, remembering the Hobbit's bravery and seemingly endless hope. He hated himself for the pressure that was building between his legs even has he heard the gruesome tale of his friends' deaths. "The surprise in those big blue eyes," Sauron chuckled, "as my hands made a ring around his tiny little neck--it was priceless. That expression was still there long after I had choked the life out of him. His servant was easier--I just bashed his head in as he grieved over his lost master. The older of the little mischief makers struggled bravely, but Halflings simply are not made for fighting. I slit his throat, and when the other one came to rescue him, I slit his as well. The young one fell right on top of his friend and the two were slowly surrounded by a pool of blood. It was an aesthetically beautiful moment, in its own way. I know I shall cherish it always." The bile rose in Legolas's throat and he gagged. "Shh..." soothed the hated voice from his beloved's lips as he nibbled on a pointed ear. "Relax, my little Elf. We're almost finished." Sauron quickened his movements on Legolas's hardened member and the Elf gasped, clenching his teeth as he tried to fend off the gathering orgasm. "The Dwarf, however, was my favorite. Killed with his own axe--it was perfect! I've replayed the sound of the edge delving into his skull over and over again in my mind, and it just keeps getting better. The crack, the squish, the splatter of blood--it just doesn't get any better than that." Tears streaming down his face, Legolas gave a shout of anger and frustration as he released himself into Sauron's hand. Sobbing, he slumped against the tree, no longer having the energy to fight. Removing his hand from the Elf's breeches, Sauron lifted a finger to his lips and tasted the silvery essence. "Delicious," he smiled. "I can see why the King found it so hard to resist you." Legolas bit his lip to keep from responding, which only brought a twisted smile to Sauron's mouth. "But now, little Elf, it's your turn. My time here is almost at an end, and I promised myself to see you dead before I go." Legolas stared up at him, his eyes defiant. He didn't care anymore. It was enough just knowing that Sauron had the energy left only for his death, and not Aragorn's. His beloved would live. Nothing else mattered. Sliding his hand down Legolas's leg, he removed the knife from the Elf's boot. "He truly does love you," Sauron said, meeting the Elf's stony eyes. "You should feel his pain, knowing that you are going to die. It's really quite touching, or it would be, if I was capable of caring. Fortunately, I'm not." Sauron pressed the tip of the knife to Legolas's chest, holding it directly above his heart. "Say goodbye to your beloved, my little Elf." Kissing the captive Prince, Sauron forced the knife into Legolas's body and through his heart. Legolas cried out at the terrible pain, and as the beating slowly stilled, the light of his Elvish soul wept at the loss of his immortal life. Sitting back on his legs, Aragorn shuddered as the last remnants of the evil Lord vanished from his body. He was disoriented by the rush of images that flooded his head depicting the murders of his friends committed by his own unconscious hands. He couldn't believe he had done it--even knowing that he didn't have control over his body didn't keep him from blaming himself. He quickly gathered control over his mind and opened his eyes. "Legolas!" he cried, staring at the Elf, his hands still holding the knife that was protruding from his beloved's chest. "Legolas, no!" He pulled out the knife and threw it aside. Taking hold of the Elf's shoulders, he shook cooling form. "Legolas!" The glazing eyes focused, and the golden Prince tried to smile. "Aragorn..." he whispered, and though Legolas's mouth continued to move, wanting to say more, there was no sound. The King's heart clenched, powerless to save the Elf as he watched the light fade from the deep blue eyes. With a final sigh, Legolas collapsed and was gone. Taking the Elf into his arms, Aragorn began to weep. He had done it--he had killed them all. Gandalf, the Hobbits, Gimli, even Boromir--if he had just arrived a few minutes earlier, he could have saved the brave Son of Gondor--and now he held the lifeless body of Legolas in his arms, his greatest love, dead by his own hands. It was too much. The pain, it was unbearable. There was no way he could live like this. With Legolas by his side, he might have been able to endure, but Legolas was gone, and he was alone. Making a decision, he reached for the discarded knife still damp with Legolas's blood. Laying the Elf gently on the ground, he kissed the cold lips. "I cannot do this, not without you. I can't live knowing what I've done. I just can't do it. Forgive me, my love. I know you tried to save me, but I cannot survive like this." Pressing the knife to his chest, Aragorn took a deep breath and thrust it into his heart. He gasped, his eyes widening at the pain, and then all expression eased from his face as he fell across the Elf's body. Slowly, the warmth faded from the King, his eyes glazing over till they were white with death. The last sight he saw was Legolas reaching for him while the Fellowship gathered around them, welcoming them into their arms. Aragorn smiled, and he knew that he was safe, that he was home. The Prince of Mirkwood and the King of Gondor were never seen again on Middle Earth. They remained on the forest floor where they had fallen, and there they slept till the end of time. Though the memories of their heroic deeds lived on, their bodies turned to dust and faded away with nothing to mark their graves.