Unlikely Rescue

Chapter 29 - Defences

I just wanted to say a huge thank you to everyone who reads this! It's impossible for me to tag everyone who has added this book to their reading list, read it, commented, voted and/or just been an amazing, supportive, reader, so I'll do my best, but if I miss anyone don't hesitate to point it out and I'll tag you! Ok, so thank you to...

WingedWarrior1731 EstelElfstone   dobblewolf    New-Identity  @Chrisch00 Definitely-Lost   @wolf_girl969 @makingitup66 Jaya-Avendel   @Leggy_Legolas De_Admiraal MeganCarter932   jijifiji   @joellamariah @TheLittleFerret  @DragonFire0514 JoyroxieShantel   @itsmaja2007 @janellevalente  @Barbralu Dragonhybrid101   TheLittleElfie   @EvanlynLifemercy Legolasfan000 PreciousStone850
... and everyone else I've probably missed

For being the best readers I could hope for :)

Legolas felt sleep creeping up on him like a warm blanket enfolding him - in a similar way to the blanket he was snuggled under enfolded him - as he let the words of the human seated at the foot of the bed wash over him in a lapping tide of rising and falling.

"And then, when the battle was over and the Valar were gathered once more, Melkor was brought to to Ring of Doom, and Manwë - you remember Manwë, the leader of the Valar - Manwë denied him pardon and Melkor was cast into prison in the halls of Mandos, and was doomed to stay for three ages before he could ask again for pardon. And three ages passed..."

Legolas let himself slip away from the story Aragorn was telling and into a deep warm sleep.

He dreamt of an oak tree, looming over him, its green leaves rustling in some unnatural wind. He lay beneath its branches and watched them sway in the breeze, and they leaned down, caressing his face, allowing him to relax until he was floating in a blissful cloud of peace and safety. A strange feeling filled him, the sense of time passing slowly, like mist seeping through his fingers as the deep green of the oak leaves faded to dappled oranges and reds, then dry brown leaves floated down to cover him, and the tree was bare. Winter snows fell on his face, but he felt no cold. Blossoms dappled the branches and fresh buds unfolded into new leaves upon the tree, and as the leaves darkened, blossoms slipped from their perches and floated to the ground on which he lay, until the glossy green was all that remained, and at last the green faded once more to orange.

The leaves began to fall, first one by one and then quicker, like a storm of red surrounding him, flurrying past his face in a gale which swept through the clearing and whipped his hair into a flowing river of gold. Then the red storm around him became no longer individual leaves but a blur of crimson, and heat swirled around him in a hurricane, smoke billowing above his head until he was choking on it, fire swallowing the glade, and he watched in horror as the flames licked hungrily at the oak and it went up into a pyre of blazing light and billowing smoke. A sense of dread filled him then, as the fire burned low and the tree became a dark, charred outline against an orange sky. The black branches merged together, and became a crown, a crown of branches and leaves intertwined - a crown which rested upon the head of a man. Aragorn leaned over him, muttering kind words, and as he spoke, his voice became a menacing whisper, and he was no longer human, but an elf, an elf Legolas knew all too well. His father.