Blood of the Covenant [ Legolas x Fem!Reader ]

Chapter Eight 𐮛 The Abyss Consumes

"There is no path beyond the scope of light, beyond the reach of dark... What could possibly await us? And yes, we seek it, insatiably... such is our Fate."

- Aldia, Dark Souls 2: Scholar of the First Sin.

◤──•~❉᯽❉~•──◥

Rain fell when the orcs came. It was a bleak scene, barely anything was visible now that the moon was hidden by the clouds. The Orcs gain strength at night, and that was a lesson [Y/n] was gonna learn the hard way. She treaded up to her post along side the King, staying silent as the rain battered on her hair, sticking it to her face. She clenched her hands, hearing the rumble of marching orcs draw nearer, her eyes closely making out that several of them were Uruk-Hai's.

The moment is near... she felt her chest thump against her ears, drowning out the noise of the battering rain, leaving her only to her senses. As the orcs began to chant and bat their weapons on the grounds, she could detect their putrid scent waft into her nose, and it never occurred to her how real this situation was. She is about to go to war, and possibly end up in a tale like the ones she read from millennia's ago; how tragically blood had been spilt, blood of innocent men who only wished to go home to their wives and children.

In that moment, she felt tempted to run away and never look back, but catching a glimpse of the young warriors who stood some ways below her, her heart drummed with guilt. She would never forgive herself if they died. Her teeth still chattered, though, no matter how hard she tried to remind herself why she was fighting. For Gondor, for peace! She reminded herself, taking in a deep breath. For friends... her eyes flickered to Legolas and Gimli, even spotting Aragorn nearby with the archers.

As if to check on her, she saw Legolas glance back at her, nodding to himself as he turned back around. She mentally stuck her tongue out at him, narrowing her eyes at his blonde head angrily... but shortly, a sense of penitence swelled in her when the Orcs began to chant and hit the ground unanimously louder. Without realising, she had been crying. Maybe some rain had gotten in her eyes, but she couldn't deny the warm salty droplet that trailed down her cheek onto her lips. She knows now, that she would cry if Legolas died.

Oddly, she could make out some of the words the Orcs were saying, and it terrified her greatly — why on earth would she know such a dark language? Her grip nervously tightened on her spear, which she received from Gimli when he bid her good luck.

Her mind recounted the way they hugged before leaving for their posts. He smelled of old people and sweat, as well as a hint of tobacco. It was a welcoming smell, and it reminded her of Gandalf in many ways. For some reason, Gandalf and Gimli were the type of men you wouldn't care about "appropriate modesty" with, because they are like siblings to you, not potential spouses or lustful buffoons. It was the same with the Hobbits, to her they will remain children in her eyes, even if it was a rude thought, she could never bring herself to think of them as anything more. She smiled sadly when her thoughts went to Gandalf and the Hobbits. I will return to you, old friend... she promised herself, biting her lips to keep herself from crying. Aragorn even shared a tender moment with her, thanking her for joining the cause and fighting by their side; he mentioned Arwen's trust in her, and that he was willing to lay his life down to protect a good friend from harm. The sentiment brought tears to her eyes, but she refused to cry in front of the enigmatic leader, wanting to look tough in front of the him and instead roughly patted him on the back, earning a chuckle from him...

As for Legolas, he only bowed to her like nobles do in council meetings, leaving any hint of emotion out of the question. She didn't bow back, instead she nodded to him like men do to each other when they greet — she reckoned it would convey the same message. Somewhere in his eyes, though... he looked scared. She only caught a glimpse of it before he left, but she will never let that image go. If only we hugged, you darn elf. Always pestering me like a pup, yet you refuse to show anything more than formality with me. She couldn't stop the tears from falling, and as if to snap herself out of it, she pinched herself in the cheek with her gloved hand.