The Last Queen {Thranduil FanFiction}

8. Encounter

To Lairiel, it was a sensation quite unlike any other - like falling into a bottomless void. She had felt the cold steel slice through her skin like butter, she had not been able to make a sound, only a strange, hallow, noise, echoing from somewhere within her chest.
She struggled to remember to breathe, to remember a reason to hold onto her senses, instead of letting this eternal fall consume her. Somewhere in the void she heard a voice, a familiar voice, the agony in it made her instinct stir, she wanted to comfort that voice.

Trying to make her eye's see through the blinding white and forcing her mind to form a face and name to that distant voice...

"Nana! No! Nana open your eyes...please Nana? Please?" Legolas cried, violently shaking Lairiel's shoulders and leaning over her to check her breathing - it was shallow but steady.

The young prince trembled with the force of the shock of what he had witnessed. He tried to understand; his shot should have killed the orc, it should not have been able to take another breath, it should have died instantly! Why had it lived, why had his Naneth tried to intervene? She would have been fine; she would have been safe, if she had just let him alone. He could have killed the foul beast unaided!

Somewhere in the back of his mind Legolas knew this to be a lie, he was moments from a fatal blow. He was too young and too inexperienced to have entered into close range combat with a mature orc commander. This realisation brought a fresh torrent of tears to his eyes, and the ellon felt them cascade down his cheeks as he angrily choked out more plea's to his barely conscious Naneth.

His hands fluttered uselessly over her mangled body, he dare not remove the orc blade in case he ruptured internal organs further. He did not know what to do, where even to start, could she be healed from this?

The prince pulled off his outer coat and held it tightly against the wound, trying to slow the bleeding. He had known members of his Adar's guard to take such fatal hits and survive, but they had skilled healers on hand. Legolas was no healer and the closest would be within their home, which was still a few leagues from them. Could he carry his Nana, would it only make the wound worse? Legolas traded multiple decisions in his head, never settling on one for they all brought so much risk. Instead he cried and frantically tried to revive his naneth with soft elvish words, ancient spells. The very same tongue Lairiel would have used to soothe him as an elfling when he scratched his knee's or bumped his head. He did not know what they meant, all he knew was that they were soothing to an elven soul, and it was he could offer his Nana now.

"Legolas?" Lairiel whispered, the queen's eyes rolled in her head, as she tried to focus on her son's voice.

"Nana?" Legolas choked, "Nana I am here," he squeezed her hand.

Reacting to the movement Lairiel focused her gaze, finding his face she smiled effortlessly and reached up her hand to wipe away his tears;

"Hush, I see you, I am here," Lairiel murmured, her voice sounding strange and faraway. She took in his features; how handsome he was, so fair, his eye's so full of life...sparkling blue. His young spirit shone through; compassionate, gracious, and true, Lairiel soaked up all those details, storing them within her spirit.

The Queen frowned, "Where is Ellenya?"

"Hiding, not but a few feet from us," Legolas answered, he scanned the woods before him, abruptly aware that he had left his sister longer than he had intended.

He did not have to look too far to find her. Two wide, terrified, eyes stared at them from the shade of the dense forest shrubbery. Ellenya had witnessed the whole thing; she had silently followed her brother and now was frozen to the spot where she stood,. Her heart thrumming, and her young mind unable to cope with the visual assault.