A Lady's duty - Book One of the Lorien Princess Trilogy (Legolas Love Story/ Lotr)

Authiel is the daughter of Celeborn and Galadriel, princess and heir to the throne of Lorien. In order to prove herself to her people and her parents, she goes to Rivendell in order to attend a secret council. But, when her duty and her destiny become entwined, she finds herself in a company of an elf, two men, a dwarf, a wizard and four hobbits. What will happen when she discovers something about herself - a mystery buried in time and darkness - and what will happen when the dark lord learns of her power in this tale? Will she survive?

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16. Chapter Fifthteen - Out of the Darkness and into the Light

Time froze. I could do nought, save stare, for my muscles had contorted into a rigor-mortic like state. The sight which I had seen could not possibly have been real. My brain must have been feeding me lies. Yet in my heart I knew it was true. Gandalf, yes he did tell me that he was going to falter the beast but this could not have happened. He would not have allowed this to happen, would he? But deep down I knew that it was true.

I watched, dumbfounded, as Gandalf just let go of the ledge and allowed himself to be pulled to his death; the light of the Balrog gleaming faintly beneath him.

“Nooooooo!” Frodo screamed.

Boromir pulled Frodo up into his arms like he was a babe and started up the flight of stairs with Frodo wailing in his arms.

“Aragorn! Authiel!”

“Nooooooo!”

Aragorn seemed to be in as much shock as me. He just stared at the distant bridge in disbelief. For a moment or two, he did not move. I did not either until I felt an arm grab mine and pull me away from the pelting arrows which I had not even realised had even started to be flung towards us once more.

                Tears followed down my cheeks as I was pulled out of the dark and into the blazing sunlight. Even though the sun was shining, the new found light could not lift my spirits, they were doomed to stay low for some time; Khazad-Dûm would linger in my mind for an age.

Dropping to my knees, I allowed the sorrow that tugged at my heart to be released. As tears flowed freely down my cheeks, a pair of arms wrapped around my shoulders and I dropped my head into Legolas’ chest; staining his already blood-soaked cloths with tears. I knew it was Legolas for the familiar scent which filled my nose; fresh pine, damp leaves and wood smoke.

“Lye n’uum sina, ron!” I whispered through tears.

[We should not be doing this, they will suspect something!]

“Llie naa nienor ent Amin naa; ron.”

[Shh, you are mourning and I am comforting you; they suspect nothing.]

Soothingly he rubbed my back and tried his best to cheer me up by muttering sweet nothings into my ear; but when I looked up at him I saw he wore a look filled with shock and disbelief. His eyes were puzzled; unsure. Unlike myself, he had not witnessed very few losses thus meaning that he did not know how to react; I had suffered too much, but war had hardened me so I normally I would not have been fazed by it yet it was Mithrandir who we had lost and I had known him for more years than I can count, he was like a second Father to me; of course I was going to react in such a way.

“Legolas, get them up,” Aragorn grimly stated.

But Legolas ignored him and continued to sooth me.

“Give them a moment, for pities sakes!” Boromir pleaded.

“By nightfall these hills will be swarming with Orcs!” Aragorn explained, “We must reach the woods of Lothlorien!”

My head lifted up at the mention of my home and a slight smile filled my blotched skin. A cry filled the air and I felt my shoulder dip as Pelior dropped onto it. She softly ran her beak through several knotted strands of my hair, as she tried to comfort me. Although she had not been present at the time, she knew that something had occurred to affect us so and since Gandalf was not among us she was obviously able to work out the outcome of the events that had taken place after her departure.

“Come, Boromir, Legolas, Gimli, get them up!” Aragorn continued.

Legolas removed his arms from my shoulders and slowly stood up. Like the true gentlemen that he was, he held out his hand for me and I took it whilst wiping a trailing tear off of my cheek. Also, he held my dual blades which I had abandoned on the now blood stained grass in his free hand for me; now freshly clean.

Carefully I took them off of him and slipped them into their waiting home; before I took a deep calming breath and expelled the saddened emotions that had been swirling around my soul though the release of air.

“On your feet Sam!” Aragorn instructed, lifting him up off of the floor where he had been sat crying.

Boromir had helped Merry and Pippin to their feet and was trying to cheer them up.

“Frodo? FRODO!” Aragorn called, shocked that our Ring-bearer was not among us.

I, too, looked around and saw that Frodo was still with us, but was stood some distance away. His face was clouded with grief and he was silently weeping misty tears. Slowly his way back over to us and a single tear dripped down from his cheek in a long rolling movement.

I bent down and opened my arms to him. He quickly walked into them and I wrapped my arms around him protectively.

“Shh, my dear boy, do not allow your tears to fall. Gandalf would not wish for you to do such a thing!” I whispered into his ear.

“But … he’s … he’s …” Frodo choked on his words emotionally.

“I know, sweetheart, I know. But I want you to know this. Death is not the end; it is just another journey that we all must take!”

“Really?”

“Yes, a place pure perfect with no conflict at all; everything is peacefully and prosperous. Now dry those eyes for soon we will be in my home; a place of comfort. Once there you can allow your emotions to run free.”

He nodded into my shoulder and sadly sniffed away his arrow. Slowly he pulled himself out of my embrace and I ran may hand across his cheek to wipe of the trailing tears that had spilled from his eyes. I planted a tender kiss on the top of his curly head before I too stood up once more.

“To Lothlorien?” Pippin suggested nervously adding a sniffle for good measure.

“To Lothlorien!” Aragorn agreed before he ran off, leaving the horrors of Moria in his dust.

A smile played on my lips and the great loss of Khazad-Dûm was all but a distant memory as I ran to the waiting woodland that my Elven eyes could just make out in the ever approaching distance.

Home, here I come!  

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