Title: The Dying of the Light
By: Elvensong
Rated: G
Feedback:  europa494@yahoo.com I love feedback, let me know what you thought of the 
story.  
Scenario: I wrote fanfic long ago, and now this kick ass world had me back into it.  Talk 
about inspiration and enough possible stories to keep one occupied! Anyway, in my story 
(which is very much in the formation stage) Sauroman sees in the seeing stone that an elf 
will destroy him, and when he senses an elf with the fellowship he feels he must protect 
himself. 
Disclaimer: I don't own this, if you sue me you'll get maybe 10 bucks, so let's save our 
precious lawyers from any boring suits.
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Chapter 4 – Searching in the Dark
The hand rose high into the atmosphere of the cold night.  There was no moon to 
uplift the spirits of any night-lover.  The elf's power was the only radiance illuminating 
the heavens.  The hand tried to hold this power, but then something happened the spell 
did not foresee.  Strength of an unusual nature was within this hand's grasp. A light shone 
through its thick, cold fingers.  From the earth below it seemed a star had ventured a little 
closer, giving a ray of hope.
 
            "Legolas?" Aragorn shook his friend, but there was no response from the fair 
being.  However, his lack of response was not the thing most concerning the outcast king. 
            The elf was as dark this night as any mortal.  The usual glow accompanying him 
was gone, replaced by a shadow over his form. If all those who stood there didn't know 
any better, they would have thought him a man at first glimpse.
            "What dark power had done this, Gandalf?" Boromir stood in fear. What could 
they possibly be facing to have this kind of power? 
            "An ancient spell. Something that should have been destroyed and instead was 
long forgotten, even by myth and lore." The wizard knelt down to touch Legolas.  He felt 
his pulse in his neck, weak, but there.
            "The Kasssno. The force of power created against the elves. However, I've never 
heard of an elf even surviving its onslaught. I don't know why he would use it now." 
There must be something unusual happening here, something concerning this prince.
            "What can we do?" Gimli was very concerned for this elf. He may have been 
quite trying at times, but the more he traveled with him the more he became fond of him. 
            Gandalf signed and closed his eyes. "I'm not sure."
            "What?" Pippin strode up to him. "There's got to be something we can do, 
Gandalf."
            "There might be, but I would have to go to ancient room of spells to find out, but 
Saruman would not welcome us as guests."
            
            Just then Legolas began to stir, his eyes slowly opening.  Aragorn looked down at 
him and couldn't help but notice even after all the elf went through, his eyes still held the 
beautiful emerald color which no one could overlook.
            "Legolas, speak to me."
            "Aragorn. What has happened to me?" He felt groggy, weak and cold. Three 
things he had never felt before to this degree. 
            "Saruman attacked you from afar. Are you alright?" 
            "I feel very odd." Legolas began to stand up, uneasy on his feat. He stumbled to 
the river they were camping near to get some water.  When he leaned down to take some 
he recoiled in fear.
            Frodo rushed to his side "What is it, Legolas?"
            A whisper was all he could hear and he had to lean down to fully make out what 
the prince of Mirkwood was saying. "What had he done to me?" He shielded his eyes 
from his reflection in the cool stream.
            Gandalf strode forward. "It's going to be fine, Legolas."
            The voice was more pressed this time, "What has he done to me? I'm an elf, but 
what I saw in the water was nothing but an empty shell. No magic, no light, nothing. I'm 
an elf! I should not look like that!"
            Gandalf knelt down and placed his hand on Legolas' back. "But you are! You 
survived the attack of Kassno. You are an elf, and a very powerful one at that.  I swear by 
all my might that I will try to bring back what has been taken from you."
            Legolas looked up, tears flowing from his eyes. "I trust you, my old friend."
            "After knowing each other for over two thousands years, I should hope so, young 
prince."
 
            The rest of the night passed quietly.  Legolas was able to catch some sleep, still 
sleeping with his eyes open.  A fact which comforted the ensemble.  Gimli never quite 
got used to that, always thinking the elf wasn't really sleeping, but spying on him.
            The next morning didn't come fast enough for most of the being's taste.  When it 
did it snuck from behind the trees, chasing back all the mysterious noisemakers of the 
night.  
            
            Everyone gathered together all their belongings preparing for another day of long 
traveling, this time towards Saruman and the force that had ripped Legolas into his two 
identities: physical and magical.  They may have taken the magical, but they didn't stop 
the physical and that held some comfort. 
 
            The hobbits were still able to keep their light spirits about them. Frodo 
investigated all the mysteries this wood had to offer.  Merry had found some new kind of 
mushrooms yet to be sampled by his wide pallet.  
            "These look like interesting specimens, Pippin."
            "Merry, didn't your mother ever tell you not to eat strange mushrooms?"
            "Aye, she did, but if none ever ate strange mushrooms, we were never even know 
about the ones which are edible now." Unfortunately for everyone, his logic made sense.  
The only revenge that would be found now is if he came down with some very unpleasant 
stomach condition. Until then, they would all shut up and let him try every fungus 
between here and their destinations. Gandalf busied his mind with spells of remedy for 
poison foods.
            
            Legolas kept pace with the group, staying quiet most of the day.  Others tried to 
get him to talk more. Gimli's suggestions took more the form of  "You know you're with 
a dumb elf when…" Legolas appreciated what his comrades were trying to do, but 
nothing, not even the beautiful woods of his home, could cheer him up.  He felt empty, 
incomplete and he didn't know what to do.  Aragorn walked beside the elf most of the 
day, noting how even without his power, he still moved with his grace and silence, 
though it wasn't quite what it was before. 
 
            They traveled all day, emerging from the woods and back out onto outstretched 
plains that seemed to reach out over the horizon.  Grey clouds made the fields seem 
lifeless and foreboding.  Not even the hobbits could keep their cheery faced throughout 
this land.  The only thing which seemed to benefit them was the fact that there was little 
to slow them down.  The clear terrain made their travels quite easy and before they knew 
it they had traveled a great deal without too much toil. 
            "We should arrive shortly, the tower a just over the horizon there.  Then we shall 
have the answers we are looking for." Gandalf summoned a fire to emerge from the pile 
of dead brush they had collected.  It burned fast and hot and took much effort of keep it 
lit. 
            As the night wore on the clouds departed and for the first time in a great while 
they were able to see the stars shine down upon them.  Legolas gazed upon them and felt 
secure.  He knew as long as they shone upon him there was hope for him and his people.  
A fear began to creek up upon him, dark thoughts which plagued his mind.  What if 
Saruman used this spell against all of his kind? What if when the spell was cast last night 
every elf succumbed to its power?  They had not seen another elf since this evil was cast 
out and there was no way to be sure that every elf was stripped in the same fashion as he.  
Gandalf didn't give any sign that this might be the case, so the only hope he had was that 
the Elves of Mirkwood were unchanged and would be there to comfort him when all this 
had passed.  
 
            Gandalf stared into the fire.  The wizard knew he had to find a way to reunite the 
light with the elf.  Elves were quickly becoming an endangered species during this rough 
age, and he would not allow even one of the precious beings to be destroyed.  Their time 
may be coming to an end as more and more go over the sea, but as long as even one 
walked middle earth he would protect it.  They were the last of the immortals and once 
they were gone there would never be anything to compare with them for all eternity.
 
            Just then a foul, black bird passed over the Fellowship.  Disguised by the night, it 
peered on the group and spied the elf stargazing in the fields nearby.  The evil winged sky 
returned to its master on the strong winds that blew through the fields. 
            "How can this be? How could the elf survive my power? Maybe there's more 
going on here than meets the eye." Saruman walks down his halls, down to the depths of 
his fortress, to the lower halls where the dark things lie. 
            "Hello my beautiful army." A collection of disgusting evils sprang up, awaiting 
orders from their master and creator.
            "Tonight you shall have a great night. I send you out against one of the most 
hated in your dark eyes."
            In one sour and raspy voice they replied, "An elf! An elf!"
            "Yes, my minions, a beautiful" they howled "immortal" screams joined in 
"magical" they shook their crude weapons "elf! Now go, and destroy the elf in the fields 
just over the hills, swiftly now. Let him never see another sunrise! After the elf is no 
more, kill the rest of the them and bring the one ring to me!" He couldn't believe he 
ordered death to the elf before capture of the one ring, but Sauron had made plans to get 
the ring by other means.
            They departed in a loud roar, blindly running, paying no mind to whatever might 
be in their way they forged to wide path of destruction towards the company of nine.
 
            Gandalf snapped out of his thoughts, "Something's coming." Before they could 
take in the full ramifications of Gandalf's words, they heard the faint beating of drums 
getting ever closer. 
 **************************************
Chapter 5 – Fear and Sacrifices
The noise from the drums carried on the night wind.  Their ominous tone drew 
fear from whoever heard it as it came closer, but the enemy lay yet unseen through the 
tall grass. 
            "Orks!" Aragorn cried as he drew his sword quickly moving towards Legolas who 
was getting an arrow at the ready.
            "Legolas, are you sure you're in shape to fight? You cannot be sure that the spell 
had not had any affect on your skill."
            "Aragorn, my friend, I may have lost my magic, but my physicality is perfectly 
intact.  Besides, I have been an archer for much longer than you can fathom. I will not sit 
idly by while my companions face the enemy. I can handle myself." The Elf turned to the 
man, "Thank you for you compassion, Aragorn."
            However, Legolas' assurance was not enough for Aragorn.  Another danger was 
bothering him, a horrid fact very well known throughout all of Middle Earth. Orks hate 
Elves with an undying passion.  For as beautiful as Elves are, Orks are hideous.  The 
instant an Ork gazes upon an Elf, it is reminded of what it had become when it was cast 
down into the dark pit in which they dwelt to this day.  For they were once Elves 
themselves, twisted and tortured until all that was left was an ugly shell and a hate which 
consumed them.  
            He knew the moment they laid eyes upon Legolas, they would focus all their 
attack upon him, and in his condition he still wasn't sure if he could properly defend 
himself. 
            "Throw this cloak over you, Legolas. When they catch wind of what you are you 
will have much more dire of a fight than any of us."
            Normally Legolas would have found the suggestion insulting, but things were not 
normal.  Legolas calmly obliged the ranger and hid his long flowing hair and his pointed 
ears.  
            The drums were now honing in on the company and Frodo's sword, Sting, shone 
a bright blue.  Then the screams of their enemy shattered the night air.  The first Ork leapt 
out of the tall grass and attacked Gimli, who made short work of the creature with his 
heavy ax.  The hobbits were pushed behind the other because they had not been trained in 
the arts of war as the others had.  
            The orks came at the Fellowship in waves.  Boromir charged in as ever the 
aggressor in a fight.  He screamed a primal scream as he pounded through Ork beings, 
one after another, not relenting for even one second.  He fought with such blinding 
passion he actually entered the grass upstaging the beasts attack position. 
            Aragorn stayed back by the hobbits in order to better protect them from an attack 
from another angle.  He kept an eye on the other members, making sure no one was 
getting in over their heads.  The King thought for a minute he would have to go into the 
grass after Boromir if the man did collect himself and made his way back towards the 
others. Fortunately, Boromir reappeared unhurt and still fighting with an undying energy.
            Legolas shot Ork after Ork right between the eyes.  Any doubts Aragorn had 
imagined about his ability were quickly extinguished.  
            The waves of Orks seemed endless, and after a short while of fighting the group 
began to tire.  Even Gandalf felt drained from his onslaught sent upon them, instead of 
using his sword he began casting magical balls of flame against groups of Orks.  The 
Wizard thought the show of power and light would deter the rest of them, but it just made 
them come with more speed and greater numbers.
            "Aragorn!" Gimli cried "We can not hold out much longer under this attack!"
            
            Suddenly, Gimli's ax was torn from his hand and the Orks began to descend upon 
him. Boromir tried to get them off of the Dwarf, but when he turned they began attacking 
the man from behind.  The Fellowship was being overwhelmed and it seemed the battle 
lost as even Galdalf was close to admitting defeat. Aragorn felt a lone tear begin down 
his face, they had failed, he was as weak as his ancestors.  
            
            Then it happened. A figure broke apart from the group and climbed atop one of 
the small hills. The lone being screamed out to the attacking Orks piled below, "Beings 
of darkness, do not bother yourselves with those mortals!" Then he revealed himself by 
lowering his hood. "There's much better prey in these fields tonight!" Legolas' hair 
caught swiftly in the wind and blew around his face, the points of his ears slightly 
visable.
 
            The orks screamed out in unison, "An Elf!"
 
            They abandoned the rest of the company en mass, pure rage fueling their fire. 
Nothing would prevent them from having this creature as their own.  
            Legolas turned and run as if his life depended on it, and it did. All thought that 
was in his mind was, run, run, run! He ran through the fields as swiftly as he ever had in 
his life. He tried not to disturb the tall grass, which on this side of the small hills was 
taller than he was.  He couldn't see his enemies, but he could hear them as the tore their 
way through the grasses behind him. He could almost fell their hot stinking breath on the 
back of his neck.  
            
            "Legolas!" It took Aragorn a moment to realize what the Elf had done.
            "That's it!" Gimli shouted, mush emotion in his voice, "I don't care what any 
myth, legend or story tells of them. They are all stupid Elves!"
            "We must go after him. Lord only knows what accursed things they will do to him 
if they should catch them." Gandalf recovered himself quickly and followed the path of 
broken grass. 
 
            He couldn't run forever.  He would have to stop sometime, and Legolas saw no 
place to hide out here in the plains.  As an Elf, he could run for long periods, but his 
terrible ordeal still left him weakened.  He would need to find someplace to hide, soon. 
            Luckily for him, his stealth was still with him and the sound of the Orks still 
pursuing him slowly faded. His cover of grasses was beginning to shorten and thin, 
revealing more of the scenery around him.  His keen eyes made out a rock formation in 
the distance and he ran towards that, hoping for some cover since he was quickly loosing 
the one the Elf had in the grass.  
            It took the rest of his strength to reach the rocks, and he quickly found a small 
pocket in the side of the rocks in which to hide himself.  At first, all he could hear was his 
heart beating loudly in his chest and his breath coming in quick gasps.  Then the sound of 
the Orks grew louder as they began a search, the rocks also catching their attention.
 
            "Hurry!" Aragorn led the ensemble, urging them ever faster on the trail of the Elf 
and the orks.  Legolas had put himself in the worst danger imaginable to save them.  If 
the Orks caught him, no, he didn't want to think about it.  The tales of what orks did to 
Elves unfortunate enough to find themselves in their grasp were enough to frighten even 
the bravest soul. 
            The hobbits ran as fast as their small legs would allow. 
"We are coming, Aragorn!" Merry tried to keep pace as best he could.  The larger 
men were holding back to keep the hobbits in sight.  Especially with Frodo in that group 
of four trailing behind.  Gandalf knew that Legolas would never forgive them if the one 
ring was lost because they were so obsessed on the idea of saving him. Sam held up the 
rear, wishing desperately that he had a longer stride.  
Gimli found endurance he never knew he had as he ran, keeping up well. That 
stupid Elf wasn't going to hog all the glory as the savior of the Fellowship, he was going 
to save the Elf and get the most glory to take back to his people.  He wasn't going to let 
the Elf gloat, damn it, and he wasn't going to loose him now.
 
The Orks searched the rocks, scouring them with their crude hands and sharp 
noses.  Legolas held his breath and closed his eyes, mentally wishing for invisibility as he 
heard the creatures of darkness coming ever closer.  When he opened his eyes, he noticed 
the stars shining brightly down upon him.  They looked exactly as they did from 
Mirkwood, and for one moment, he felt comfort.
He was quickly snapped out of his thoughts when he heard one Ork breathing 
loudly on the other side of the rock wall he was leaning against.  His fight or flight 
instinct was screaming at him, but he couldn't decide which would be better.  The sound 
of breathing was so loud it shook him to his core.  If he revealed himself the chase would 
begin again and he didn't see anything nearby to hide him.  He wouldn't be able to run as 
far as he did during the original chase, he hasn't even caught his breath yet.  On the other 
hand, if he remained, he would be cornered, trapped.
When the Prince of Mirkwood smelt the breath of the Ork, his primal mind made the decision for 
him and he ran with all his might out from the rocks back towards the grass.  The Orks screamed 
and gave chase, right on his heels, catching up to the object of their ultimate hatred.  
All the Elf could see was the boarder to the grass ahead.  Legolas didn't see the large, menacing 
creature in front of him hiding in the grass, waiting for the inevitable sprint from the prey.  He didn't 
see him aim the large weapon at him, which resembled a crossbow.  He didn't see the large spear 
with the metal point being fired at his chest until he was thrown back from its impact and quickly 
thrown into darkness.
************************************
Chapter 6 – Uncertainties
The path of destruction led them on, towards where the battle raged still.  They 
had to move swiftly if order to help out their friend.  The Elf had put himself into this 
position in order to save them and they could not bear to think of the consequences 
should he be caught.  It would be worse than if they were to kill him.  In the back of his 
mind, if all hope should fade, he would hope for death for his friend rather than capture.  
For Elves that are taken are twisted, tortured and mutilated, and are never seen again.
            Aragorn led the Fellowship forward, paying no mind to the fact that they were 
battle wearied.  He was going to save his friend. 
            "Swiftly, fly swiftly! They are only just ahead!" In reality he had no idea where 
the Orks and, hopefully, Legolas were, but he would say anything to get them to keep 
going.  Just a little farther, he's right over there, keep going.
            "We are with you!" Gimli kept up well for a stout legged Dwarf. He could smell 
the Orks on the broken grasses and he wanted another opportunity to slay some more.  
            Boromir was at the rear in case the Orks should try to get the drop on them from 
behind.  Given the visibility in these fields, they could be not more than five feet away 
and none, save Legolas, would be able to detect them until it was too late.
            Four hobbits were bunched in the middle, panting and laboring in order to keep 
up.  Cramps in their sides were causing them to begin to hunch and slow, but they 
ignored it in order to stay with them.  Time was short and may be running out for their 
comrade.
            Galdalf saw a small formation of rocks up ahead through the broken path. 
            "There! He would try to gain an advantage on those rocks!" 
 
            Indeed all points showed that was the direction to enemy went in pursuit of their 
prey.  However, when they arrived they saw an ominous sight.  Ork bodies lay scattered 
like broken dolls.  Many of them were felled by arrows, some by the work of small 
blades. 
            Aragorn searched all over the fields of blood and bodies, looking for something.
            "Legolas!" Boromir called out, hoping for a response.  Maybe the Elf was in the 
fields nearby.  He might be hiding after hearing their approach, or perhaps even hiding 
for fear of Ork reinforcements.  
            There was no reply.  Aragorn continued his search, looking for any sign of 
Legolas.
            Then he saw it, clear as day.
            A metal tipped spear with blood on it.  It was not Ork blood for that is a foul, 
sticky, dark substance.  This blood was a pure color.  Bright red.  Elf blood.  His heart 
sank into the deep places of his soul.
 
 
 
 
 
            A blur of images passed before his eyes.  The trees of Mirkwood, including his 
favorite climbing tree standing on the hilltop.  The face of his father, strong and 
everlasting gazing out over his kingdom.  The smile of his friends and they played on the 
tops of trees.  Rivendell and the One Ring.  The members of the Fellowship joining 
together in their quest.  Then the cold hand of darkness and the feeling of being ripped in 
two.  The Orks coming, attacking, and then the shot coming at him followed by nothing 
more. 
            His eyes slowly opened and the world was nothing more than a blur.  The light 
was so bright he thought he would go insane from it.  
            "Awaken. You have been asleep far too long."
            A voice he did not recognize was calling to him from the depths of reality.  
Finally, the light submitted and the world slowly came into view.  He was lying down.  A 
figure stood and blocked the insane light, coming into focus.  Recognition came quickly.
            An Elf.
            "The pain may last for a minute or two, but you shall find it will soon pass."
            Joy overtook Legolas, the rest of his kind were unaffected.  His family and friends 
were safe, for the moment.  Legolas slowly sat up, suddenly feeling the pain that was 
forewarned.
            "The spear only hit your shoulder. You were lucky, young one." The mysterious 
Elf was soon joined by others, 7 in all.  They wore blue robes which were long and 
flowed down their backs.  They also each had a bow and quiver on their backs.  
            "We were able to save you quite easily since Kahlar is quite a skilled Elven 
healer."
            Legolas' mind finally came into focus along with his eyes.
            "Who are you?"
            The Elf sitting by him smiled, "I am Gotheran. We are a small party of travelers 
far from our distant lands.  We are journeying to the sea, which has been calling from 
afar for quite a long time now.  During our travels we have seen many wonders of Middle 
Earth, but nothing like you, brother Elf.  We were watching your company for quite some 
time, intrigued that an Elf would spend so much time in the company of mortals. 
However, we were quite impressed by the way you risked your life for your companions.  
They must be dear to you. So, we took a small detour when you gave the Orks chase to 
the rocky hill.  When you were finally struck down we took it upon ourselves to help and 
dispatched the rest of the remaining Orks in short order."
            Legolas sighed, "Thank you, my friend."
            "There is no need to thank us, Legolas."
            "How do you know my name?"
            "The crest on your quiver is that of the royal family of the Mirkwood Elves.  I 
knew your father a great long time ago, before you were born, young prince." The Elf 
rose and brought Legolas some water.  The coolness of it was quite a relief. "You have 
been sleeping for nearly ten hours, very unusual for an Elf. Perhaps it is because you have 
a greater struggle which you as of yet have not overcome."
            Legolas' eyes went wide, "You know of that evil?"
            Gotheran broke eye contact and looked at the soft grass.  
"I see the power that dark spell has over you. It was a legend back when I was 
young myself, Legolas.  The evil that no Elf would dare speak of.  My soul quakes with 
fear that it has been rediscovered."
            Legolas tried to stand on shaky legs, "Please, can it be conquered? Tell me there 
is a way!"
            "Alas, I can not tell you a way to break that evil which has been thrust upon you.  
Only you can find a way to do that. I know you have the power, you alone must find the 
secret to freeing yourself."
            The Prince felt despair in every fiber of his being.  What was he to do?  Where 
was he to start? 
 
 
            The dark tower stood like a dark shadow on the sky as the few remaining Orks 
returned.  Luckily for them, they were slower than the others and arrived after the other 
ugly Elves attacked.  Cowardly and outnumbered they fled back to their nest.  Saruman 
descended the staircase when he saw their return.  He noted their small number with 
disappointment.  
            "What news do you bring?" 
            The Orks bowed before their master.
            "The ugly, immortal is dead, my Lord."
            The dark wizard gave them a look of hard stone, "Are you sure?"
            "Yes, my Lord, we saw it die." The Ork's gaze remained fixed on the ground in 
front of them.
            "I understand. Return to the underworld, your brethren await you there." Saruman 
smiled as he turned to climb the stairs.  So much for the insignificant Elf, for his power 
had beaten the prophecy.  Nothing stood in his way of ultimate power and he could put 
this minor setback behind him.
            
The creatures slithered off.  When Saruman was out of earshot one hissed at the 
other.
"We did not see it die."
"You saw the shot, the aim was true. Do you wish the disappoint the Master?"
"Let us go and never speak of this again."
The Orks returned to the darkness.  The wrath of Saruman would be just as great 
if he found out they lied than if he found out the Elf was still alive.  At least this way, 
they would have some time before they would be destroyed from the inside out if the Elf 
did survive, of which they could not be certain.
 
 
            "Was he taken by the Orks?" Gimli saw the spear, the blood ran all the way down 
the shaft.  It had run deep into the Elf.
            "There is no way to be sure.  He could have been taken, but he could have 
retreated.  He would leave no visible tracks for us to follow if he did escape."  Aragorn 
looked around.
            Boromir climbed the rocks and peered off into the distance.
            "I can see nothing from up here." He yelled down.  There were too many 
possibilities of where Legolas may be.  He could be passed out somewhere near them or 
far away in the deep dungeons with Saruman.  Right now they were in the dark of what to 
do next.
            "Gandalf," Frodo was scared this by turn of events, "what should we do now?"
            The Fellowship knew they were in a great impasse when the good Wizard 
responded.
            "I do not know."