𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒 | 𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐟

𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐬

"Oh, Y/N," you moaned to yourself, back in your room, lying face down on the covers of the bed. "You're so stupid."

You remembered the flash of hurt that had flitted across Legolas's face as you pulled your arm out of his hand, and you wanted badly to go back and reverse your choice.

You rolled over onto your back, spread-eagling your limbs and staring at the ivy on the ceiling. Suddenly, you felt cold. Immensely, inhumanly cold, like something was bearing down on you and squeezing every last whisper of happiness from your mind.

You'd only felt that feeling once before, and you'd never wanted to experience it again.

"Û ..." you muttered, followed by some creative curses. "Nazgûl." No ... Black Riders.

You ran from the room, wincing as your feet scraped along the stone, ripping into your skin in thin stinging gashes. Not caring that you basically only wore Legolas's cloak, you sprinted past muttering elves, your braided hair flying behind you.

Skidding to a stop, you grasped the rail of a balcony tightly, seeing a calm river beneath you. On one side of the river were nine hooded Nazgûl. On the other ... Hasufel, Arwen's horse, carrying two cloaked figures, one of which was slumped over, appearing to be half dead. You watched in paralysing fear as the Nazgûl began to gallop on their blacker-than-night horses across the river, towards who you assumed to be Arwen.

"No, no, no, no!" you cried. You couldn't bear the thought of Arwen dying, nor any preventable loss of life.

To your relief, a massive surge of water began to crash into the small river, drowning the Nazgûl, who unleashed terrible screams as their steeds floundered and were eventually washed away.

Arwen turned Hasufel, and galloped towards the gate of Rivendell. Just before you turned to run and greet your elf-friend, four figures emerged from the tree line.

And you recognised one.

"Aragorn," you breathed, sweet relief flooding your senses as you saw your oldest friend and sword brother alive. With the knowledge that he was safe and (probably) well, you turned and ran as fast as you could to meet Arwen.

Rounding the last corner, you almost ran into something. Stopping yourself just in time, you looked up.

"Elo! Goheno- oh." You began to apologise, then stopped. Woah! Forgive- oh.

Legolas was on the receiving end of your apology.

Pain flickered in his blue eyes once more, but he ignored you, turning away and walking to greet Arwen and Aragorn.

You felt an ache too, but brushed it aside to dwell on later, instead rushing to help Arwen with a half-dead hobbit.

"Na vedui, Arwen!" you said happily. "Gi suilon!" At last, Arwen! I greet you!

Arwen smiled, though she looked confusedly at your outfit. "Gi suilon, Y/N. Wait ... is that Legolas's?" I greet you, Y/N.

"Yes," you said, slinging the hobbit over the back of Nethiel, your faithful horse who'd been brought by ... someone. "It's unimportant."

"Did something happen whilst I was gone?" Arwen raised her eyebrows. "Between you and Legolas? Because it is quite obvious that he-"

"No, nothing happened," you lied. "Just a minor accident that ended up with me in the Healers Ward in a slip so I had to steal his clothes."

Arwen blinked slowly, her face portraying a 'what the fuck' expression. You shrugged, climbing onto Nethiel yourself (with a pushup off a rock) and kicked her sides gently, leading her to the Healers Ward for the half-dead hobbit.