3rd Person

Turwaithiel could not believe it at first. Seeing him after so many weeks. He stood tall, emerging from the shadows like an angel. She thanked the gods for answering her prayers so quickly. She did not, however, forget the main reason she left. This would not dissuade from her decisions. She was just thankful he had come in time, then maybe she would be able to heal Lara.

Legolas was quick. His arrows landing with precision. He did not have enough energy or arrows to kill all of them so when he could, he quickly aimed an arrow on the binds of Turwaithiel's hands. Turwaithiel wasted no time as she undid the binds on her ankles and crawled over to Laralen to untie her. Laralen slumped down on the ground but she was finally conscious. There was some kind of relief there.

"Ble- Bleon?" She rasped and Turwaithiel merely gave her a small nod before making her way over to untie Bleon. She undid the binds in his hands as he seemed to suck in oxygen and coughed violently.

"Please, let him be spared," Turwaithiel whispered as she got a hold on the boy. She turned to look as Legolas helped Laralen up to her feet. She could hear more orcs coming. They haven't got much time. She quickly lifted the boy up, shaking a little from the fatigue of the harsh four days journey from their capture. Legolas swung Laralen's arm over his shoulder as he assisted her in walking.

"Quickly," he called as he walked to the direction of their escape. Turwaithiel followed him with strained steps as they hear the orcs near. When they were but a league apart Laralen had had enough and fell almost limp as a dead person in Legolas' arms. They all stopped as Turwaithiel seemed to have spent all her remaining energy carrying the boy.

They were still being chased and Legolas grew worried at what to do. He looked on to the three companions he had. Turwaithiel shared his distressed look when their eyes met. This was not how both of them imagined their reunion to be.

Laralen held herself still on a tree, grasping on to her bleeding wound. She could feel the blood flow and was actually surprised how she managed to stay alive for so long. She turned to their hero and immediately knew who he was. Blonde hair, regal stance, blue eyes and an elf. Surely, he must be Legolas. She then turned to Turwaithiel who stood a few feet away, Bleon in her arms as she continued to heave. Laralen knew what must be done.

"Do you have a horse?" She asked the elven prince who gave her a confused nod. She clutched on to her wound, knowing the poison would soon affect her. The things she had learned of witchcraft and such could only do so much for her. She took one look at the wound and knew she had little chance of surviving it. She had only but a miracle as a chance. If the gods pitied her enough, they would not send her into the dark world she had grown up in again.

Perhaps it was time. Perhaps this was her purpose all along. Laralen held on to her remaining strength as she pushed herself off the tree with fierce determination. She had but one last thing to do. To make sure Turwaithiel and Bleon were safe. She stared at the boy and felt her heart swell with so much emotion, tears had begun to pour out of her eyes. She knew what she must do.

"Take them," she orders the prince who gives her a baffled look, " Take them. Please." Turwaithiel stood straighter, ready to argue but stopped short when Legolas gave Laralen a small nod.

"I will not leave you!" Turwaithiel shook as she turned to glare at her friend. No. She was not going to make her do such a thing. Laralen turned to her and Turwaithiel stared as the tears seemed to cover her cheeks.

"Please," Laralen seemed to plead, "I must make sure Bleon is safe. Turwaithiel, do not argue."

Turwaithiel shook her head, tears forming in her eyes. She was not going to leave her.

"Do not ask me to do this," Turwaithiel begged as Legolas seemed to start moving towards his horse. It hurt him to see such emotional displays but he knew the golden haired elleth was correct and logical in her decision.

"You haven't got much time," Laralen pushes on, ignoring Turwaithiel's pleads, "Bleon will need you."

"He needs you more!"

Laralen shook her head. How stubborn were elves compared to dwarves? She then turned to Legolas, giving him a look that suggested it is his duty to ensure that they ride out of here. Legolas fought the urge to go along with Turwaithiel and save all of them. If he did so, he would risk everything.

"Turwaithiel," he called but Turwaithiel stood, wide eyed at him. He could not be okay with this?

Laralen fell over with a pained groan.

"Go now!" She screamed at the both of them Turwaithiel shook her head as strong arms seemed to grip her. The weight of the child was lifted off her hands as she fought at the arm that was dragging her away from her friend who was now slumped low on the ground. She could hear so many of them on the way. Metal clanking and foul breathing.

"Please, Lara," she begged as she was dragged away, " I can save you."

Laralen turned to her, her emerald eyes filled with heavy sadness that seemed to weigh her down even more. She gave Turwaithiel a small smile, barely there.

"I am beyond saving, mellon," her voice seemed to whisper, "But I thank you, for those times you were with me, I often felt I was saved. Please take care of Bleon, he is all I had before you."

"No! Lara!" Turwaithiel felt the arm around her tighten as she struggled and cried herself to madness. She watched as Laralen pushed herself up and swayed a little. She knew it was only logical but why must fate be so cruel? Laralen staggered towards the opposite side.

She did not know how Legolas managed to get her on the horse but moments later she was crying on his back, clutching on too tightly.

---

Legolas made sure they were far enough before they stopped. He stood on look out as Turwaithiel tended to the boy. She never stopped crying. He could hear her sobbing at night, attempting to muffle it with a bundle of cloth. He never really did understood why his father would sometimes be in pain whenever Mantheniel was until now.

There was nothing that could sedate his heart of the sadness it felt upon seeing Turwaithiel in such a state. He had never seen her so broken. She was always that bright light in his life but that light had started to fade. He made way towards Lothlorien. They would be there in two days time. He heard Turwaithiel sniffle as she finished tending to the boy. They had not talked since leaving that blonde elleth. Somehow, she refused to speak a word.

"I am sorry about your friend," He managed to find his voice. She seemed startled at first before she averted her gaze and busied herself with some of her belongings.

"It is alright," she said after some length. He could barely hear her voice for it was too low and too strained, " It was the most logical thing to do."

Oh god how it hurt. Their attentions were diverted as the boy began to stir. His eyes open suddenly in distress as Turwaithiel ran towards him. He looked at his surroundings and frowned before turning to Turwaithiel, a question on his face. Turwaithiel could barely get a word out before her voice broke and she shook her head at the little boy.

Bleon could not understand why Turwaithiel was crying. He stared at the elf and moved towards her to wrap his arms around her shoulders. Like what he usually did when he was little and found Laralen crying in her bedroom. Where was Lara? He wondered but did not ask for his voice is suddenly gone again. Turwaithiel sobbed on his small chest and he tried his best to comfort her as his eyes land on the elf that stood a few feet away. He was looking down at his feet and seemed to be in a solemn state. Perhaps he needed a hug too?

Moments passed as Turwaithiel
Steadied herself. Embarrassed to be crying over and over again. She had managed to tell Bleon what had happened and Bleon had sat quietly before nodding his head. Oh how Laralen must have raised him to be so understanding. The boy did not even cry!

"Where are we going?" She asked Legolas when she was sure Bleon had fallen asleep. She sang Laralen's lullaby and found that the song had no magic if it was not Lara singing it.

"Lothlorién," was the princes only reply as he stepped forward to watch over them again. Turwaithiel gave a short nod before noticing the fatigue in his features.

"Rest, Legolas." She gestures to the makeshift cot she had spread out for him, "I shall take the duty of watcher tonight. You must regain your strength."

He wanted to argue but she was right. He and not slept for days and even elves grew tired. He gave her a weak smile in which she returned before they switched places. They both ignored the awkward air that hung around them. Before Legolas laid down he remembered something and took out the necklace from his pocket. He held on to it as his eyes land on Turwaithiel who had sat on the roots of a nearby tree, her back to him.

With an ounce of courage and determination he stood up quietly and walked towards her. He felt her stiffen at the first contact before she relaxed upon seeing he was just placing the necklace back on her neck. He clasped it slowly.

Turwaithiel's heart almost bursted out of her chest. She felt his hands graze the skin on her neck to pull her hair away from the necklace.

"I would very much prefer it to be on your neck than a bag carried by orcs," he managed to joke and saw a faint smile on her lips.

"I shan't lose it again," she promised before silence descended upon them. He walked away quietly, even though it seemed to pain him to do so. He had  a difficult time sleeping but eventually did just listening to Turwaithiel's humming.

--

Laralen had only walked a few paces before falling on the cold earth again. Blood had seeped out of her mouth. She tasted the bitterness of it as she shakily pushed herself up. This was nothing, she mused. She had gone through much worse. The orcs had not come for her and she prayed that Turwaithiel and the rest has escaped.

Perhaps the orcs were afraid that the prince had brought with him an army. She managed a faint chuckle at the thought. Well, at least if she were to die today she had not met one but two elves. And one was a prince! Hopefully enough, Bleon would have a better life with them. She managed to get herself to a tree and leaned on to it as the skies turned darker. She blinked and watched as stars appeared slowly. This was not such a bad way to die. Under the stars. She started humming her lullaby as the stars seemed to dance along to her song. Her vision faded, in and out.

"Look what we have here,"

Her eyes snapped open to see a group of three men standing before her. She felt the panic in her chest as her limbs seemed to be incapable of movement. They all had that look that haunted her as a child. She felt hot tears down her cheeks. Of course the gods would not pity her! She had brought it upon herself. Even in the dim light and her ragged look, they still seemed to see her as a piece of meat. There was little hope of escape and she prayed she would die before they even get to her. She struggled to push herself up the ground but fell back, causing a chorus of laughter to escape from their lips.

"Entertaining enough," one mocks as he stepped forward. Laralen cursed the gods, again and again. Her vision blurred as she noticed the man did not take another step as something silver and shiny emerged from his chest. A blade. Then there was a sound, like a horn as more of the men and even orcs came into view. She watched in a half conscious state as elves and men appeared out of the trees, fighting. She turned to her stomach and attempted to crawl away from the battle.

She muttered a spell that Emeralda had once taught her, to gather up all her energy for the last time. She stood up abruptly, swaying and staggering farther away from the sounds of war. She was not about to waste away in a war zone. She stopped when she heard more men coming her way and attempted to hide in the shadows but was abruptly pulled by her hair. She was forced to meet the eyes of her captor. An orc! Their foul stench filled her lungs and she fought the urge to gag as rough and ragged hands seemed to be all over her.

She screamed as she was forcefully pushed down on her hands and knees, their shrill laughter in the cold night filling her ears and turning her blood to ice. She fought, with everything she had left. She kicked and screamed as her head was pinned down that earth had begun to get into her bloody mouth. This was possibly the worst way to die! To die in a nightmare she had tried so desperately to get away from. There was a pause as her vision faded and she felt relief in the thought that she would die and not feel a thing.

Then a hand was on her waist as she was turned on her back and she saw his face. The man who had taken everything from her. The man she had thought she loved and loved her back. The man who used her and destroyed everything. She was a fool, oh she was. She brought this upon herself. He smiled down on her and she cried out in pure anguish and fear as she tried to wriggle away from his grasp.

"Please," she begged, " Please let me go. Please."

He laughed and she felt his hands on her body. She was trapped. She was alone. Then the face changed into the face of a man that once treated her as his princess.

"Da?"

There was no answer. His face was of pure hatred as he glared down on her. The tears were uncontrollable now as she faced her father. Was she dying? Perhaps she was seeing her life flashing before her eyes.

"Da?" she began again, " Da, I am sorry. Please do not let me go back in the dark. I promise to be good. I promise. I am sorry I hurt ma. Please, Da."

She knew he would not believe her, for her own sanity she kicked hard and heard him grunt as she managed to hoist herself up, barely standing and ran as fast as she could. She was not going back. She could not go back. The darkness would kill her. She had to at least die with a bit of light in her life.

"You always let the ladies go, little brother."

Little brother? She turned to glance as the voice did not belong to her father or the man who haunted her dreams. Instead she saw faint silhouettes of men in armor. They were not the only ones for the forest now seemed to be full of them. She gasped as she turned to realize she was running directly into a horse. She only has but a quick look at the man who rode it before she fell forward again, for the last time. Hands caught her and still she fought.

"Let...me...go," she managed to croak out between breaths as she was spun around gently. She frowned upon the man or elf. She could not see anything but a vague image. She felt a hand on her waist and she pushed at him.

"Why do you seem to always end up with the feisty ones?"

The voice had a soft melody to it. They must be elves!

"Do not touch me," she attempted to sound threatening but her voice was barely a whisper. She was going to die. She smiled like a mad woman. How odd of a position she had found herself in. She blinked a few times as the world seemed to disappear beneath her. Her savior leaned forward and she saw his face. His grey eyes and dark hair. The poison must be quite into her system for she swore she could see two of him. By gods, elves were beautiful creatures.

"Please do not bring me back..." she muttered, blood practically oozing out of her mouth. What a sight she must be! Her savior frowned on her comment as her lungs seemed to take in the scent of him. He smelled of salt water, that breeze carried. Of pine trees and spring. Spring. She was going to be 22 soon. Bleon would be 10.

"What is she muttering about?"

There was a soft movement before she felt a hand hover over her wounded hip.

"No time to hesitate, my lord! Her light is fading!"

"Would you stop being so paranoid, do not bother him. My younger brother may not be as skilled in winning the hearts of the ladies but trust me when I say he has been gifted with the same healing hands as our father."

There was silence, before another voice entered her ears. She could see nothing anymore and feel nothing. She could only feel his warmth, take in the smell of him that seemed to carry her soul to peace. His voice, made her believe she was being saved by an angel.

"Pardon me, my lady." His voice sang in her ears and she felt at peace. Pardon for what? She wanted to ask but found she had no voice.

"But I must ask for your forgiveness for I shall need to have contact with your skin to heal you."

"Dy...dying..." She said and heard a faint chuckle.

"No, my lady. I will not let you die."

--

Authors note: Any thoughts on Laralen's savior? I think I made it quite obvious. *chuckles*

If you are ever interested, I also made a Lee Pace fan fic! ❤️ I just seem to scurry off and  write more than usual now. Haha guess that's a good thing. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

Vote? Comment? Wine? Haha