Green Cloaks || Legolas

Forty three

There was a crack and the wood underneath him splintered. The deck caving in at the whole side of the ship hit something under water, the hull cracking loudly. The boy gasped, throwing his arms up as the ship tilted heavily to the side. His feet sliding down the slippy deck to hit the rails hard. His hands barely catching him. Around him he could hear the howling of the wind. The sky dark above them and lighting crackling as the waves towered over them. There was screaming as a man fell from the mast and into the darkness below. The boy gripped the rails so tight that his knuckles were white as the ship was pushed suddenly in the other direction by the waves. He couldn't see anyone. His parents lost in the dark. Then the ship gave a almighty shudder and the whole structure split. He was thrown, screaming into the cold waters.

Luin woke with a scream lodged in his throat. He sat up, hair in disarray and panting harshly. He took several deep breaths, leaning down to rest his head on his knees. The room was dark. The sounds of the Rohan party having died down. The people all drunk and in their beds. He looked around the room. It was a few hours away from dawn but still pitch black outside. The bed next to him was empty. Legolas no longer curled between the sheets. The mattress was still slightly warm though, and the elf's tunic and cloak was missing from where he had hung them. Luin guessed that he had gone to see the stars, which wasn't uncommon for him to do. He must have left recently, as there was still residual warmth in the bed.

Luin sighed and rubbed his eyes. His tunic was still thrown over the trunk at the end of the bed, the dark blue cloth a black shape. It took another few minutes for him to push the nightmare from his mind. The cold of the water making him shiver, until he felt unsettled enough to get up. His trousers were rumpled from sleep as he tugged his tunic blindly and pulled on his boots. He was just heading towards the door, aiming on joining Legolas outside, when something thick and dark filled the air. A presence that was as foul as the creature in Moria. Luin gasped as it hit his chest. His Qi instinctively fighting it. Immediately he grabbed a handful of his reminding talismans and ran from the room. The dark miasma growing as he hurried down the corridor.

The door banged against the stone wall as he kicked it open. The room the rest of the fellowship shared was larger than Luin's and Legolas'. There was two single bed frames, which Gandalf and the hobbits had taken. Merry and pippin bunking together. Aragorn and Gimli had straw mattresses on the floor. Simple, but still far better than any bed that they'd had when travelling. The source of the screaming was coming from Pippin. The hobbit was in his night shirt, writhing on the floor and screaming out in pain. Luin could feel the dark energy filling the room. Something could see them. In pippin's hands, was the glass ball. A palantir, a seeing glass. One that now, he knew was connected to the one in Mordor.

The Palantir was burning with a fire and Merry was calling for help. Luin dropped to Pippin's side. The hobbit was convulsing, barely breathing and eyes rolled back. Luin tore the palantir from his grip. As soon as he touched it he could feel Sauron's eyes on him. Consuming, draining and burning him from the inside out. Footsteps sounded behind him as Legolas and Aragorn burst in. Gandalf and Gimli lurching to their feet. Luin gritted his teeth, he could feel the dark energy corrupting his Qi. Draining him, attacking his meridians. "Gandalf! Quick", he gasped. It was using a,l his strength to hold still and not writhe on the floor like pippin had done. His magic was blocking Sauron from seeing anything else. The effort was painful. He could feel the sweat on his brow and the strain on his spiritual energy.

Then Gandalf had a blanket and was throwing it over the palantir. As soon as the glass was smothered, Luin let go. He dropped the ball into Gandalf's waiting hands and sagged back. The effort exhausting him. Legolas dropped to his knees and caught him as he toppled back. The elf's hands were soft as he frantically checked for injuries. "Melethril, are you hurt?"

"I burnt my hands", Luin muttered. His palms and fingertips were burnt a dark black. The fire of the palantir having injured him as Sauron fought against his magic. Legolas took his hands gently, careful of the singed skin. He blew cool air in them, muttering elvish healing words under his breath. Elvish magic wasn't strong, but it was very good at healing injuries inflicted by dark magic. Legolas wasn't as well trained in healing like Elrond, but he knew enough to work on smaller injuries like these. Luin sighed blissfully as the stinging pain ebbed and the blackened burned lightened until his fingertips and palms just showed white scars.

"Is that better?" The elf murmured, gently examining the now scarred burns. Luin nodded, leaning back exhaustedly into his fiancé's shoulder, letting the male prop him up. His bones ached and his meridians were sore from the attack.

"Fool of a took!" Gandalf snapped, his loud voice disturbing their quiet moment. He turned but Pippin was lying in his back in the floor. His skin pale and his eyes staring up at the ceiling, unseeing. Gandalf hurried over to his side. The older wizard murmured magic under his breath and Luin inhaled as he felt the magic spark the room. Then Pippin was gasping wildly, eyes darting around. "Look at me", Gandalf instructed.

Pippin looked up at him in wide eyed shock. "Gandalf, forgive me".

"Look at me!" Gandalf instructed again. "What did you see?" The question was quieter. Then he looked up at Luin.

"I did nit see anything", Luin shook his head. "Only the eye and fire. I stopped him from seeing anything else". Gandalf nodded proudly and Luin smiled slightly. His face still pale and using Legolas as support.

"I saw a tree", pippin breathed. "There was a white tree in a courtyard of stone. It was dead, the city was burning".

"Minas tirith, is that what you saw?"

"I saw", Pippin's face filled with terror and grief. The curly haired hobbit looked tortured in that moment. "I saw him! I can hear his voice in my head".

"And what did you tell it?" Gandalf demanded. "Speak!"

Pippin flinched. "He asked me my name, I didn't answer. He hurt me".

"And what did you tell him of Frodo and the ring?"

Pippin looked up at Gandalf with honest eyes. "Nothing".

Unedited