Chapter 17

Legolas ducked into the hobbits' room, they were sleeping still, curled up contentedly in their snug little beds.

'Frodo!' he called, shaking the hobbit by the shoulder, 'Frodo, wake up!'

Frodo moaned slightly and turned over.

Legolas tried to wake him again, shaking him desperately, but to no avail. Blast! He might be under a sleeping spell! He tried to wake the others, but none would stir.

He went to one of the windows and pulled it open, singing a song of waking enchantment; the important thing would be to get them out, to get the Ring away. He turned to the hobbits again when he heard a cry of anguish from Boromir.

Merry groaned, 'What's the matter?' he asked sleepily.

'Merry, wake the others up, get out the window, hide in the woods,' Legolas commanded.

Merry sat up, looking rather startled. 'What's going on?' he demanded.

'We have trouble, I can't explain now, just listen to me.'

'Yes, Legolas, I will,' said Merry quickly.

Legolas nodded. 'Be brave.' He raced back into the living room.

Boromir knelt helplessly on the ground in front of Saruman, the wizard holding the sword aloft and ready, the deadly blade moments away from stabbing through a noble heart.

'Don't you dare!' Legolas cried, throwing himself at the wizard.

Saruman veered to ward off his knife, and Legolas grazed against Anduril, the sharp blade cutting across his chest; he fell in a bleeding heap to the floor.

'And who are you to stop me?' sneered Saruman, for the time his soft voice forgotten; his words were harsh and cruel.

'I am Legolas, Prince of Greenwood,' said the elf hopelessly but proudly, 'and you will answer for my injuries!' He staggered to his feet.

'Shall I then?' Saruman shook his head, 'you are so much like your grandfather, my prince, charging forward without a plan; it destroyed him, you know.'

Legolas held himself. 'He fought bravely.'

'And fruitlessly, your father had to retreat in shame, taking back with him so few soldiers, so few. And here you stand, in rather the same predicament, so brave, so hopeless, and here you shall meet the same end.'

'Then I shall take you down with me,' Legolas rejoined, his eyes bright, lifting his knife towards the wizard.

Saruman smiled and the knife blazed hot.

Legolas cried out, dropping it to the floor, pressing his burnt hand to his bleeding chest.

'You spoke too soon. Give Oropher my regards.' He thrust the sword deep into the elf's chest, blood and bones, a cry of pain. He pulled it back. Legolas looked up at him, his eyes calm, dying. The wizard raised the sword for the final blow.

'Demon!' Aragorn attacked him, suddenly released from his spell, his anger raging. He struggled against the wizard, too mad to care what might happen to him. He wrested the sword from Saruman's grasp, trying to cut him as they fought each other.

Saruman fought him back, always keeping the sword away from himself, ever willing it to Aragorn's body.

Legolas struggled back, away from the fray, trying to stop his bleeding, there seemed to be little that he could do, the blood kept coming. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes; the world was fading about him.

He felt a rough hand over his wound, pressing against it.

'Don't let go,' said a gruff voice. 'It isn't over yet.'

He opened his eyes, 'Nay, Gimli, the wound is too deep; go to the hobbits, they will need you.' He pushed Gimli's bloody hands away.

'No, I won't leave you,' said Gimli, pushing his hand back, a cloth under it for a bandage. 'We need to keep pressure on this or you'll bleed to death.'

Legolas did not have the strength to argue. The pain was excruciating, and every breath made it worse. Perhaps it would be best if I stopped breathing. He looked over at Aragorn; he had been pushed aside by Saruman who was trying to hold the two armed men off him with his staff.

Legolas looked down at the blood soaking the cloth, there was so much, so very much of it; he knew there wasn't much time left; it was running out for him, running out, and he would never know what happened to the others. That was the worst part really, not knowing what would become of his friends.

Saruman seemed to grow weary of their game and with a sudden cry and a blinding light he cast Boromir and Aragorn down. He looked about him hastily as if he had seen something that no one else had, and then burst into the hobbits' room. He came out cursing and looked at the two men lying motionless on the floor and at the elf pressed against the wall, the dwarf tending to his bleeding. He smiled.

'It is my doing,' he declared, 'but they will not believe that. I care little, so long as you know. I have done this to you, and whatever happens next I have done as well. I have contrived it all and I take great pride in that, there will be no escape for you. Your new miseries you owe to me, and I shall not have you forget that.' He turned on heel and walked out the front door. A few moments passed before they were able to move again; Aragorn immediately sprang to his feet and rushed to Legolas's side, pushing Gimli to the side.

'How bad is it?' he asked, ripping open his shirt.

'I fear I have taken deadly hurt,' Legolas murmured, trying not to cry out as Aragorn prodded the wound.

'Don't despair yet,' said Aragorn, although his face had little hope on it.

Boromir ran to the hobbits' room and then back to the other two. 'Legolas, where are the Halflings?' he demanded.

'I sent them into the woods to hide,' Legolas answered. 'Have they gone then?'

Boromir nodded. 'The room is empty.'

'Tell Merry that he did a good job,' said Legolas with a smile.

Boromir knelt down beside him and took his hand. 'Aragorn, is there anything I can do?'

A car pulled into the driveway, the tires crunching over the dirt.

'I hope that's Elrond,' said Aragorn, 'Boromir, go see, but be careful.'

Boromir nodded and picked up his sword as he went to the front door.

Aragorn looked down at Anduril, frowning at the bloody blade. 'If you die by my own sword…'

'Please, Aragorn, it is not your fault.'

'No, it is Saruman's, and he is glad of it.'

'But he does not have the ring, and we must be glad of that.' Legolas gave him a weak smile.

Aragorn did not return it.

'It's not Elrond, Aragorn,' said Boromir from the door. 'It is the police.'

Aragorn looked about him at the blood and the many weapons scattered on the floor, at the bleeding elf. 'Boromir, you can't let them in, do you know what this would look like?'

Boromir turned. 'We did nothing wrong!'

'Did you not hear what Saruman said? Whatever happens next he has set for our own misery; they will think that we stabbed him. And Saruman will make them believe that.'

'What if we tell them of Saruman?' suggested Boromir.

Aragorn shook his head. 'You do not know the extent to which he could hold men, you under estimate him, Boromir.'

Boromir looked nervously as the door. 'So what do we do?'

Aragorn tore his shirt off and quickly bandaged the elf's wound. 'We get out of here,' he said.

'What about his injuries?' asked Gimli nodding at the elf.

'It's where he's been stabbed that will offer the most trouble. He could die from it; I am not as worried about the gash and the burn. But elves heal better than men; I just wish we didn't have to move him.'

He finished tying up the bandage and tore the cloth again. 'Sorry about this,' he said, gagging Legolas tightly.

'What are you doing?' demanded Boromir.

'We can't have him crying out,' answered Aragon.

There came a knock on the door. 'Maine State Police! Open up!'

Aragorn fastened Anduril to his side and lifted Legolas up against him. He looked down at the other weapons. 'Leave them,' he whispered, heading to the hobbits' room.

Boromir followed him, taking his horn and sword, obviously angered at having to leave his shield.

Gimli snatched up his axe and moved wordlessly behind them.

'We have a search warrant, if you do not open this door, we will have to break it down!'

Legolas wanted to speak to them, to tell them to leave him, but the gag was well done, it was digging into his cheeks, he found it hard to breathe. Aragorn set him down for a moment, but he could not stand on his own; Boromir reached out and he fell against him. The sword had not hit his heart; he knew that at least. But the loss of blood was making him dizzy.

Aragorn helped Gimli out the window, whispering to him to go ahead, and turned back to Boromir and Legolas.

The ranger slid out the window. 'Hand me his legs,' he ordered Boromir.

'Couldn't we hurt him?' Boromir asked.

'Yes,' hissed Aragorn, 'we could kill him. Now, do as I say.'

The man complied, lifting his legs through the window. The elf's cry was muffled by the gag and the loud banging at the door.

'Careful,' said Aragorn, 'keep his back straight.'

'Open this door!' the police called from the front. 'We have the building surrounded!'

'Good bluff,' muttered Aragorn, catching the elf's legs and sliding him forward. 'Easy, Boromir.' He stood the elf up and lifted him again.

Legolas found himself grateful for the gag, or he would certainly have given them away.

Boromir followed them out the window.

Aragorn motioned to the woods and they slid quickly amongst the tall trees. The others were not too hard to find; Gimli first blundering anxiously through the undergrowth; Aragorn picked out the hobbits' trail by the light of the moon and they came across them huddled in a thicket whispering frightenedly to each other.

Aragorn lay the elf down.

'What happened?' gasped Frodo.

'He's been stabbed,' said Aragorn bitterly, 'and we are now being pursued.'

'By whom?' asked Frodo.

'The police,' said the ranger.

'How long do we have?' asked Boromir.

Aragorn shook his head. 'After they see what's in there, they'll probably start a search right away. We move as soon as I get this wound dressed properly.'

The others stood by anxiously; Legolas would have given them a reassuring smile, but he was impeded, instead he raised a feeble hand.

Pippin quickly took it. 'Don't die, Legolas!' he pleaded. 'You won't let him die, will you, Strider?'

Legolas looked up at Aragorn who forced a smile. 'Of course not, Pip.'

The elf looked up at the stars in the night sky above him, so bright in the darkness, the glowing moon, so pure, so beautiful—lights in the darkness. The darkness…