The IRE of Winter

Chapter 35: A HOPE OF SPRING

The sun burned bright sailing high, there came no snow that day.

Across the vast slope North of Dale, five thousands elves formed thick columns, a legion of dwarves lined up before them, Gimli on the lead. Men of Dale positioned next to the elves. Even Erett's men waited in front of the row, wolves beside them. There came the Lord of Carrock and his men, the northmen of the Giant's Keep and even the wildlings from Harrengar.

Safirah's threat got him after all, who would want to anger a dragon rider? Not a sane man, in fact noone would.

Legolas, mounting his warhorse, trotted beside his father. His white stallion was just as tall as his father's elk. They trotted to the rear of the line, King Thranduil's face couldn't be painted with joy. The Elfking is an impatient one and he has waited half the day for the battle to come.

And so certainly he was not the only one feeling the same.

Fifty yards away stood Aramis and his older brother, Bain. Legolas was feeling worst of all after finding out the wizard tricked him. Safirah left that night and thinking she went to see Aramis, Legolas confronted his friend at the middle of the night, only to find out she wasn't there.

He could have stopped her, he could have forced her to stay and begged her to choose him. Guilt made him ever grumpy around his father, around everyone else.

Gandalf was long gone before he could question him, another reason why his frown had turned into a scowl.

'She will come,' King Thranduil said with eyes fixed on Aramis. 'She must be busy saddling her cursed dragon, or must be off to seek more wretched trolls and horrible goblins to fight her cause.'

'She left without notice, where could she be?'

'Patience son, she will come.'

'I am not being impatient, I am worried.'

'Of course,' the King said in a cool tone looking intently at the Dalish prince as they approached. 'You're not the only one feeling that way.'

Aramis mounted a black mare, on his silvery mail beneath a black breastplate with a red dragon inlay. The Dalish prince was more than crossed after finding Safirah's disappearance. "Any word of her?"

'None as we speak,' Legolas answered pulling the bridle to halt his stallion.

'My scouts have returned, orcs have been spotted but not more than a hundred.' Aramis said.

'They must be underground, all foul things like the stench of dirt and mud,' King Thranduil flashed a faint smile.

'And the wizard?'

Just as the words came out of Aramis' lips, another elf trotted behind the King bringing news, of what it is, you already know.

'My Lord, someone has come!'

Everyone was silent, Legolas hoped it was her and he was first to trot back. Aramis followed him closely, the two almost raced to see the same woman they hoped to see and they galloped through the crowd, elves quickly made way. Noone could have guessed what Gandalf had to say, for he brought a news that would break two hearts that day.

The wizard stood and waited for the princes, smoke and dirt had turned his white robes grey, fire was still fresh in his slightly burned hands. Legolas came first, the elf-lord slid down his stallion and greeted the white wizard with a nod. But Aramis was first to ask, refusing to climb down his mare, the Dalish prince circled them, tensed.

'Where is she?' Aramis was more than tensed indeed.

King Thranduil finally came, eager to hear the wizard's news. He studied the old man with scrutiny.

'Gandalf, where is the girl?' Legolas repeated.

The old man sighed holding on his staff tightly. His eyes were grieving, King Thranduil could have guessed if he'd kept his words a little longer, finally he said, 'A fiera blossomed amidst the winter's moon, we all know it wouldn't survive, and yet we allowed her to thrive. Safirah is gone and in her death, she took our adversaries with her.'

Legolas gasped in disbelief, the wizard's words froze him.

Aramis chose not to believe him the least, shaking and shrugging as any angry man would be.

Devastated, Legolas climbed up his stallion, trembling. His heart pounded, crampled, clenching his hands, he turned looking North. Cold wind brushed his cheeks sending chills to his spine. Breathing was hard, the elf clenched and pursed his lips. It was too late, Safirah is gone. Legolas couldn't shed tears to the woman he loved, he was far more than angry that tears froze in his eyes.

She is gone, the wind whispered to his ears, and memories of her flashed in his mind, her smile, her eyes, her giggles and stares.

Safirah is gone, he thought again, and his heart died with her. He pulled the bridle and off he galloped away. Noone dared to stop the elf, not the wizard, not even his father, for if there was someone who was bleeding the most, it was Legolas.

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Hey guys, thank you for sticking around and reading this very very very sad story. (Did I say it too much) I'm sorry if the ending is quite upsetting, but just as they say, heroes won't be heroes if they didn't die as heroes. (That's a lot of heroes, lol). Don't forget to read the epilogue, you might want to know the rest. -Haz.