The Last Othellan

Lothlórien

I stumbled from the exit of Moria, gasping for breath. My heart sank into the Earth, and my knees gave way, falling painfully on the jagged rock below me. I welcomed the physical pain, a distraction from a far too familiar sensation. My insides screamed in agony, as if a part of me had been ripped away by a blunt knife. The pain in my chest, the ache behind my eyes. This was heartbreak.

I couldn't, wouldn't shed a tear. My brain seemed unable to comprehend what my eyes had seen mere moments before. Perhaps it was the head injury, but a part of me realised that I didn't want to accept what had happened, didn't want to know that my closest friend in the world was gone forever.

Slowly, trying not to aggravate my bleeding head, I stood up.

Sam was sitting on the rocks, his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking. Merry was supporting a sobbing Pippin, while tears streamed down his own youthful face. Boromir held onto Gimli, who was trying to sprint back into the mines, his face full of anger. Aragorn looked as if his every breath cost him effort. Frodo had walked off, alone, and had his back to the fellowship.

Legolas, however, looked confused. Out of all, Gandalf's death seemed to have shocked us elves in the fellowship most. Legolas had most likely been well used to seeing Gandalf in Mirkwood frequently. Gandalf had loved the elves so, and he spent more time with our race than any other. It was hard to accept that he would no longer be there to council and guide us. It was shocking also to see him, suspected to be a messenger of the Valar, die in front of our eyes. I had never considered that he would someday face death.

I sighed sadly, still unwilling to believe the facts, and walked over to Legolas. I don't know what made me do it. Perhaps my own shock, mingled with the expression on his face, made me want to do something, anything, to alleviate the pain.

I took his hand. He looked down at our hands for a second, then up at me. Neither of us smiled, but an understanding seemed to pass between the both of us. We looked away and he squeezed my hand comfortingly.

"Legolas" called Aragorn "Get them up".

The moment passed. Blindly, Legolas and I let go of each other's hands and walked towards Merry and Pippin.

"Give them a moment, for pity's sake!" argued Boromir.

"By nightfall these hills will be swarming with orcs! We must reached the woods of Lothlórien." Said Aragorn determinedly. "Come Boromir, Legolas, Aúthiel, Gimli. Get them up!"

Aragorn was right. We needed to leave, and soon. We could not risk losing someone else today. I began to bend down to assist Merry, while Legolas gently coaxed Pippin to stand.

However, my head swam suddenly and I staggered away from the hobbits. My eyes started to cloud over, and my vision went fuzzy. Dimly, I felt rather than heard people surrounding me. My head felt light, and I swayed dangerously, until someone lowered me to the ground. My brain felt slow, I couldn't register what was going on. The world went black for a moment, but as soon as it had begun, it was gone.

It was as if I had taken my head out from under water. I could suddenly hear a babble of voices around me, all sounding concerned. I opened my eyes blearily and was met with a small, blurry face, curly hair surrounding it. I blinked and Merry swam into view, his eyebrows furrowed in worry.

"She's awake!" He called to the group. I heard sighs of relief from all around, and tried to raise my head. Immediately, though, someone put a hand on my forehead and stopped me.

"Lie still for a second" Came Aragorn's voice from behind me. He pressed a wad of material to my head and I lay back again. For moments, no one spoke. I closed my eyes and breathed, absorbing the pain in my head as best I could.