The Prince of Mirkwood (a Legolas fan fiction)

Ch.11: A Great Elf

Glynnii's pov

I watch in horror, as the arrow lodges itself into Legolas's chest. He grunts slightly and then falls to the ground, unmoving. I feel a tear form in my eye.

"NO!" I shriek. I grab a knife off my belt and throw it as hard as I can at the last remaining Orc. It lands directly into his heart, and he falls, instantly dead. Quickly I kneel down next to Legolas and put his head in my lap. I brush his hair out of his face. I feel tears forming behind my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. Thallan and Laeroth run over to me.

"Here, let us carry him." They soothe. Reluctantly, I shift backwards and help lift him up into their arms. My heart thuds loudly against my chest. I feel blood drain from my face, when I realize he could be dead. Thallan sends me a sympathetic glance.

"He's going to be fine." He whispers. I shake my head.

"No, he's not." I bite my lip. "He's either dead and if he's not, he will never be the same again." We say nothing more as we carry Legolas back to the palace. When we enter inside, Thranduil rushes up to us. His face falls when he sees Legolas. At first he just stares, then the tears start to fall.

"My son!!" He wails, dropping to his knees. I put my hand on his shoulder.

"I'm deeply sorry my king." I soothe. I feel a single tear slip from my own eye. "He was a great elf." Laeroth turns to us.

"Was?" He asks. "Nothing's for certain yet." I watch as him and Thallan take Legolas down the hall to his quarters. I hastily decide to follow them. When I'm walking, an image flashes in my mind. Legolas smiling at me in the forest, before the battle. My heart thuds even more. He couldn't be gone. He just couldn't. I'm the one who should be dead, not him. He doesn't deserve that. When we go into his quarters, Laeroth and Thallan lay him down on his bed. I feel my legs go weak when I see blood seeping though his green tunic. I quickly sit in a chair, before loosing my balance. Thallan looks up at Laeroth.

"Lae, go get the head medic, pronto." He orders. Laeroth nods and rushes out of the room. My head swims with emotions, and I don't know what to think. Thallan starts stripping off Legolas's tunic as he begins talking to me.

"So he saved you?" He questions. I nod slightly.

"Yes." I whisper, my throat suddenly dry and my voice raspy.

"Are you okay?" He asks me. I stare at Legolas, his tunic off so I can see the giant gash in his chest.

"No." I moan.

"Glynn, I'm worried about him too." He comforts. "But, he's the bravest, toughest elf I've met, so I'm sure he's going to be fine." I feel another tear roll down my cheek.

"I hope you're right, Thallan, I hope you're right." I cry. He walks over to me and wraps his arms around me, holding me in a right hug.

"Shh." He soothes. He strokes my hair. "Everything's going to be fine." I wish I could believe him, but my instincts told me otherwise.