Repudiate || legolas

𝟐𝟔

Simply, he felt like death. Awarthon may have lived, but he felt like, in all senses of the word, he felt like he died. With such a large party and some unaware of his very serious condition, it wasn't surprising that Awarthon could feel the great effects the curse holds on his body. The stinging of the markings, the urge to hunt and devour life, the lack of control, and the added weight of his ankle that would never fully heal. It was rare that such effects took place since he had a deep control over himself, but it was clear it was taking a toll on his body.

His sleeve had faint bits of drying blood. Greatly concerning both the hobbit and elf with the somehow even paler appearance. Despite all this, Awarthon kept leading and worse of all using magic to keep fires lit. Tauriel had not known if this was Awarthons' new normal. It was hard to tell since they had been gone for nearly a year. All she could truly do was when he needed sleep, she could take watches so he could sleep.

"We are almost there," Awarthon spoke, as he drank a small vile of blood the last of his stash. The journey through mirkwood had been rough. Especially since Awarthon never seemed to leave such a place on good terms with anyone. Having left without saying goodbye to anyone but Thranduil.

The Hobbit tugged at his elbow, "Awarthon... I may not know your full condition, but maybe it is best for you to eat something?" Bilbo explained softly, his eyebrows furrowing, "you look disastrous," he huffed a bit to make his concern more humorous.

But stubborn and just not wanting to stop waves off Bilbo, "I'm fine... meerly, my ankle is acting up. I will make it, worry about Thorin. " he spoke firmly as he walked. Tauriel took to his side, and Bilbo retreated. "Well, we should at least break,"

Awarthon nodded and pulled off to the side. Letting them all take a moment to sit a rest. Awarthon took this time to look around the forest and gather things he could not find outside.

"I can offer you my arm. You said I taste bitter, but it could help," Tauriel offered. "It will consume your mind soon. I see the dilation and how sharp they turn," she said, squatting next to him, amused at how Awarthon had to change.

A deep sigh escaped his darkened lips, "Tauriel... I feel awful enough drinking from Legolas, I don't need to feed the curse. I have more control than I used to," he said as he pulled a root from the ground using a small dagger to do so. "It's only three more days... I can last. Legolas probably has some waiting for me, I just didn't expect to run into so many orc packs. They get braver and braver each day... the tides of the world are turning to a storm, and I have found myself caught up in it," he spoke, looking off into the distance. Tauriel culled his cheeks and kissed his forhead. It wasn't a romantic gesture, but it felt more like an older sister trying to comfort a younger brother. Kili watched with a faint smile at the gesture soon. The two of them left Awarthon alone.

...

Upon the dawn of the next day, It got impossible not to give in when he was left alone. Tauriel warned him. He knew he should have listened. But they were out a mirk wood he just had to last one more day. Three more brakes, one more night.

The group of Thorin, Bilbo, Kili, and Tauriel seemed to grow in worry when Awarthon had yet to return to the camp for breakfast. Kili and Tauriel ventured to find him. Well, Tauriel wanted to go alone, but Kili didn't respect that wish. It didn't take long to find Awarthon huddled in a small corner. His fangs long and sharp, with a dark red blood down his jaw and hands. A small lifeless rabbit in his arms as he cried. Tauriel knew how rough it was on him. Especially since before the curse, he had refused to eat or take a life. Hell, he sometimes felt awful gardening, worried plants felt pain.