Building Ithilien [Legolas] LOTR

Remembrance

Beautiful artwork by Evank7.

Legolas struck Adrendil down atop the high walls of Minas Tirith, and all watching silently below gasped to see the famous elven prince, friend to their king, seemingly all things gentle and noble as such is the way of the elves, take the life of his own captain with a powerful sweep of the sword across the chest. The elves had a name for such a perfectly timed move, meant not to disable but to kill one's enemy outright- durtha sul, a deathblow.

Men clattered up the high stairs of the southern wall in Minas Tirith. Their king, Aragorn Elessar, the Elfstone and friend to elves, grimly led the way, for all had witnessed his beloved friend Legolas Thranduillion duel and kill the elf captain high above the city that day.

The pain in his side was almost unbearable, and the thought of leaving Adrendil's body, still warm, amid the blood and cold stones of the wall, was even worse.

"Legolas," Aragorn's voice was soft, cautious, and the king watched his friend rise, leggings soaked in blood and his side blooming red as well. From the moment the elf had held Adrendil at sword point, no even before then, from the time the duel had begun, Legolas had already started to calculate what this debacle would cost Aragorn, in what a difficult position his actions would place his friend.

Adrendil had cursed him with his dying breath, and still Legolas felt remorse. He was surely a sentimental fool. But he could not make himself forget Adrendil's last words cursing him to never leave these shores. He knew what his friends would say, what he hoped they would say—that he had been in the right to end Adrendil's life, but even so Legolas avoided Aragorn's knowing gaze as he met him on the wall.

Legolas crashed to his knees before Aragorn, knowing full well that the people below needed to see his submission to their king, if anything to replace the vicious image of the cold-blooded warrior striking down one of his own in lethal precision. It was misdirection at its best, but neither friend discounted the inherent value of the elf's actions. Both knew the toll on the prince's pride.

"King Aragorn," Legolas said, averting his gaze, his head lowered in submission, "I humbly await your judgment."

The king did not answer but rather pulled Legolas to his feet and braced him with a hand on his forearm, meeting his eyes for the first time, saying, "Legolas, you did what you had to do."

Legolas held his gaze, not yet willing to be absolved so easily, "Aragorn...I could have disarmed him. I could have—"

The king interrupted. "Not now, Legolas. Let my people see that I support you which I do." He glanced down at his friend's abdomen darkly painted crimson.

"You've been wounded?"

"Superficial, Aragorn," Legolas said quietly. "Happened right before..." He stopped just as Miredhel joined his side, averting her eyes from the violent scene before them.