I closed my eyes and simply lay in the murky, cold water.

The darkness closed in on me, but I was no longer afraid. Only accepting.

I cared not that the mud and grime swirled through my hair that had only recently smelled of lavender, or that all on me was soaked in the dregs of one of the darkest places in Middle-earth.

I lay there in a mere few feet of water, not moving, hardly breathing, until a very important thought tugged at the corners of my exhausted mind.

A gentle push on my left side, almost intangible, a current through the still water.

But not still, I realised. If there was a current, this water went somewhere -- out from the exit of this cave.

My eyes snapped open, which made me more alert, even if I couldn't see much. The sword of light, still faintly glowing, hung limply from my hand, the pale glimmer reflected in fractals in the water.

I held my breath and was sure I knew where the current was going before tentatively pushing myself up on my good wrist and breathing heavily on my knees until finally surging upwards with renewed strength. I laboriously walked through the heavy water, following the current I knew was there, gradually feeling it become stronger and stronger as I went. The outstretched sword illuminated few inches in front of me at a time, until suddenly the light loomed against the face of a solid wall of rock that stood in front of me. I felt the water rushing around my ankles, fast enough to make a faint sound in the blackness.

But where did it go?

I pushed against the wall experimentally, and then realised that the water crept steadily under a gap through the bottom of the wall that was barely a foot high.

I leaned my head against the wall in frustration and exhaustion.

The grim realisation that this was the only way out hit me hard, and I had no idea how I would be able to fit through the small gap. I crouched down and thrust the sword inside, seeing that there was a foot of clearance but the water went down another two feet or so. I experimentally pushed my shoulders through the crevice and found that I could barely maneuver into the hole, but just as I continued pushing forward, the wet fabric of my tunic bunched up around the rock and prevented me from fitting.

Gritting my teeth, I backed out of the hole and took off the tunic, leaving only the tight shirt I had underneath.

Trying again, I maneuvered myself into the gap with one hand and my forearm, trying not to put any weight on my injured wrist, and was able to get in most of the way. The current was not strong enough to pull me forward, so I continued pulling myself through the stagnant murk, my forearm grating on the rough stone below and my usable hand and wrist soon tiring of the extra weight.

A few times, my head lolled forward and I felt my nose dip into the slimy brine, making my stomach reel with disgust.

I inched forward at a snail's pace.

The water continued on and eventually too tired to continue, I gave up and turned on my back with difficulty, hoping that I could stay afloat enough to be carried by the weak current onwards. My eyes slowly closed dazedly; voices swirled around the thick, damp air. All I could think of was how I had not succeeded, how Falcon and the others were run amok in some distant place and that I would never get there.

Peace, child.... Not all is lost.

I dimly heard the gentle words in my mind, different than the words of Lórien or his wife, or of any entity I had heard. The tone was like the rumble of a waterfall, or the echo of the sea.

One with the river -- Ulmo, the Vala of all waters.

Comforted, I slipped into sleep, my body bobbing to and fro in the cold, sluggish river under Mordor.

*************************

I felt my shoulder scraping on the stones, back and forth, the sharp shale scratching my back through the thin fabric of my clothes. My wrist throbbed painfully, and my nose stung with salt and presumably other things I had inhaled. Coughing, I propped myself up with the wrong hand and gasped in pain, heavily falling back onto the ground and failing to get anywhere.

It was still dark.

At the moment, I could see nothing, but then I felt a light breeze and strained to see. My eyes slowly opened, and I realised that they had been shut, caked together with sand particles and brackish mud between my eyelashes.

I could see light.

It was blurred, and pale, especially through the grime that caked my face, but it was there. Somehow I was out of the cave, washed up on a shore.

Again, I struggled to prop myself up, this time with my good wrist, and I dragged my legs out of the river, where the greasy folds of algae had wrapped around my ankles. The sickly green strands fluttered in the water like flags.

I set my mouth in a hard line and scrabbled at the rocks on the shore, feeling sand embed itself under my fingernails as I struggled to gain a handhold to further pull myself up. My lips were caked with sand from lying face down on the shore.

Legolas.

I pleaded with the world around me, shouting out mentally. Legolas. I needed him, the way he made my adrenaline surge would fuel me enough to get up.

I used my forearms to push myself forwards again, like a beached sea creature, and whimpered as the sharp shards of shale dug into my irritated skin. As I reached forwards in my army-crawl position, my elbow caught on my hair, which hung limply onto the sand, interwoven with various bits of flotsam. I inhaled sharply at the pain and placed my forehead on the cool stones, desperately wishing that I wasn't so alone.

I felt the cold breeze stinging at my exposed neck, the dampness of my clothes feeling even more chilled as the wind hit.

I shivered, draped across the unforgiving shore.

******************

Time had passed, enough time to realise that it had without actually knowing how much. I heard the vague sound of the wind rushing through meagre vegetation and squinted at the sound.

I imagined footsteps in the distance, growing closer and more hurried as I lay there, ignorant of the world around me.

Not imagined, heard. I heard footsteps, hurried, barely audible over the muddy sand and stone, at first hesitant.

Two hands grasped my shoulders and pulled me further out of the water.

"Valar," said a quiet voice, "May Mandos guide this soul--" The voice caught, suddenly.

I knew him. I knew him with my heart as well as my memory.

Legolas.

I tried to move but simply could not fathom a response.

"Gianna. Gianna, Valar, not you, please." he said, his voice breaking.

I knew I was covered in mud, frozen from the water and wind, whatever skin exposed probably hued in the same shades as a corpse. It was not a surprise to me that I looked dead. I wasn't totally convinced that I was alive.

I felt Legolas reach for the sword that still shone next to me, and with a single touch separated the two stones. He had slipped the sunstone over his head before sliding his arm under me and lifting me from the riverbed.

He staggered a few paces and set me down, desperately brushing my hair from my face, before pressing his warm fingers to my neck to try and discern a pulse. I tried to blink a few times but barely got past the small sliver of light until my eyes closed again.

"Thank the stars," he murmured fervently, finding that my heart still beat. He said no more, but held me close, burying his face in my neck and softly whispering my name over and over.

Gently, gently, Legolas stroked my silt covered face, brushing the sand from my cheek, my forehead. He knelt on the ground beside me, I knew, and dripped water onto my mouth, running his thumb over my bottom lip to wash away the caked on mud. I felt his hands shake, just a little, as he washed my face and arms, the cold grime fading away at his touch.

I laboriously opened my eyes fully now, and finally was able to fully see my surroundings.

"Gia," Legolas murmured, "Valar, I thought--"

Rather than continue, he touched his forehead to mine. "I will never fear anything so much as losing you to this fate," he whispered instead.

"There are others who--" I weakly began, my tongue like lead in my mouth.

"No," Legolas said. "If you ever--"

Again, he did not continue.

"I have never needed you more than now," I said, in a voice barely audible. "Hanon le, mela min."

For a second I didn't think he had heard me.

Then I knew he did, his deep blue eyes burning with suppressed emotion.

Though I was cold before, there was no way I would be now.

"How did you find me?" I managed, after a while.

"I had planned to be the closest scout to your location, for my conscience," he explained, absentmindedly.

"I hardly thought I would be found."

"It was chance alone. I hardly knew what I was doing."

I tried to prop myself up and, again, put all my weight on the wrong arm.

I noticed Legolas' keen glance towards my arm.

"Legolas, I believe I seriously injured my wrist," I said, once more aware of the twinge every time I moved.

"Let me see it." he replied.

Letting my head rest on the ground, I held up my arm.

He bent over me, gingerly pushing up my left sleeve with calm resolve.

I tensed at the annoying, flickering pain which teased at my wrist.

"Do not think about the pain," he said, leaning close to my ear and thus blocking my view of my wrist. "Close your eyes."

I did so. Immediately, my mind returned to the raw memories of the crushing river tunnel. Legolas must have noticed a change in my expression because I felt him pause and then, slowly, achingly, press his lips to mine in a kiss that could vanquish darkness by itself.

His lips tasted sweet after the brackish water.

"Eru, Legolas," I groaned, dazed.

I felt a small twinge of pain, but no more, and realised that my wrist was bound tightly.

"It is hardly broken, it will heal quickly," he said, tying the cloth.

And here I thought it was no more than a bad sprain.

I realised I had probably not noticed as he bound it due to... pertinent distractions.

With effort, I sat up, fully taking in my surroundings for the first time.

A rocky, mud covered shore flanked a small river which seemingly oozed from under the black rocks that surrounded us.

Though the sky was blue, the sun shadowed the crags and did not warm the haunting wind that occasionally swept through.

The concerned expression of Legolas followed me around as I turned, looking at the dismal landscape, and I saw his brow furrowed with concern. All trace of pride gone, he simply looked at me, not moving.

"How did this happen?" he asked, finally.

"I was surrounded by Remnants on all sides after I threatened Falcon with death. He called the others into this small chamber and I knew I would hardly last a minute. So I ran. I ran and found only darkness and stagnant water. By only the blessing of the Lord of Waters did I find myself carried through the forsaken mire, even now I can hardly believe that it is you who happened across me."

"Where last were the Remnants?" Legolas asked, warily glancing upwards toward the spiny, black mountains.

"I could not say, they pursued me, but I know not where they left off."

"They are bent on finding you, especially now that they know you have the sword," he said tiredly. "It is likely that they are continuing to pursue you."

"We need to draw them out into the open," I said. "It is dangerous to fight such fiends in close quarters."

"Come, we had better go somewhere less visible," Legolas said, glancing around again. "You cannot fight anyone like this."

"Just one night," I warned him. "Then we have the light all day to ferret them out."

The sun was getting low already.

"I would have you without this worry, free to heal your weariness, away from this, for days on end," he said, almost bitterly.

"I cannot, you know that."

"I do. And that makes it all the more terrible watching you be cast down so many times, only to have to rise again."

"This will be over. All of this will cease. We all must last another night and then it will be done."

"As long as you yet stand, I could never falter." Legolas smiled sadly. "Speaking of standing, can you?"

"Hopefully," I said, first bending one knee and then the other before slowly pushing myself up.

Legolas held me in an instant, his arms wrapped around me to steady me, the warm pressure of his embrace penetrating deep into me.

I gave myself up to his touch, leaning heavily on his chest as he worked his fingers through my hair, delicately untangling the strands which curled together from the river silt.

"It is not far," Legolas remarked, his voice close to my ear.

"What?"

"Where we will rest for the night." he replied, still gently tugging through my hair.

"Lead on, then." I said, my feet like weighted bricks.

He never took his eye off of me, and carefully guided my steps through the flat piles of shale.

Eventually we reached a point that looked the same as everywhere else, but Legolas stopped and said, "Here."

I looked around. "As opposed to there?"

"This is hardly random," he pointed out. "There is easy access to several things here and it is almost impossible to happen across from the other three directions."

"Duly noted," I returned.

Legolas tossed down a small pack and beckoned me over to a flat rock.

"Sit," he instructed. "There's no need to get up."

"Thank you," I said, leaning back. I tried to take deep breaths to clear my mind, which still echoed of the dark.

I was still freezing, goosebumps dotting my skin, although the weather seemed normal, for very early spring in Mordor.

Legolas finally sat next to me, after looking around again, and started a fire in front of me. I greedily crouched close to the fire, my eyes closing by themselves.

As the evening went on, I grew incredibly tired.

Finally, I curled up on the rocks next to the fire and slept, knowing nothing could hurt me while Legolas stood guard, watching over the land as the stars did.