The Unforgiven { Legolas x OC - LotR Fanfiction}

The Walls of Helm's Deep

Author's Note:

Warning: Concepts contained in this chapter include semi-fighting scenes!

Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters, places, names, etc (only the OC). It all belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien and Peter Jackson.

The approach of darkness limited the light, as the sun set, and the moon took its place. A cause of uneasiness troubled their mind, disturbing the peace. Men and elves already stood in their positions, gazing at the open field in front of the fortress. The army of Saruman was reinforced and advanced on foot at a moderate pace, divulging second by second. They heard the boots, long before they saw them. They neared to Helm's Deep in distance and time, as they cried out loudly and vigorously. The Rohirrim became increasingly despondent over the continuous deep and resonant sound of the Uruk-Hai.

Doom! Doom! Clang! (Faraway sounds!)

Ethir, Gimli, and Legolas were in an upright position on their feet at the fortress. Gimli was deeply troubled as he lacked the skill to perceive with his eyes over the wall. Legolas remained firmly on the right side of the dwarf, veering against his bow. Half of the time he would observe the army lining along, and the other half he would stare at Ethir; who was standing on the left side of Gimli. The elf, aware of the dangers that this war was held, tormented himself with the 'wicked' girl's foolishness. The foolishness to share a part in this war. 'Not, Fearless! Neither, Brave! A Fool, who lacked common sense!' He called her in his mind. 'Someone should knock some sense into her. When would she start thinking sensibly about her actions? Childish!' his mind added high and inordinate of the pride of a Sindarin Elf.

Doom!

Doom! Doom! (Getting closer!)

The foretaste of nervous energy tingled through Ethir like electrical sparks on the way to the ground, gathering in her toes. The roar waves of the Wizards' army before she became the roar of her wrath-in desire to fight. The Ellon's bow, that was gifted to her, was placed in her right hand. She was right-handed; though her left hand was equally dominant. She wore bracers on her forearm, that were holding the bow. An arrow resting inside the other. The large quiver that was gifted to her by the Lady of Light was resting against her back. It would fit 25 arrows.

If Legolas called it Foolishness, she named it the 'purpose of life'. This Adaneth grew up for a simple purpose, to fight and battle. That's what she did best. In this hour, as war was upon them, how could she hesitate to act? For her joy! For not allowing Evil to win! And more of all, not to forsake utterly her friends. She stood there. This time she was not showing a lack of fear. A distressing emotion was aroused by impending danger while watching the numbers of Uruk-Hai. Yet, not for herself, but for the people she held dear.

Doom! Clang! Clang! (Almost there!)

The 'Annoying-Ellon', with his competent excellence in performance in all aspects. He dared to stand proud and shine, at a time like this. The dwarf, with his plain and rustic silliness. He held a pure and benevolent nature in his heart, and the capacity to dint his axe like no other. The Estel, with his courageous endurance on the battlefield. He, trait a glorious blend of gender nature, courageous, daring, and loyal. A true King that had not yet, admitted his abilities. As for the Mithrandir, the leader, the teacher, the philosopher, the soul and heart of that fellowship. The hobbits, the most peaceful and serene beings of Middle-Earth. The elves and humans, who crossed her path until now. All those, who accidentally (or maybe not) sparkled a thin trace of truthfulness in her soul. (If she ever had one.) She will answer today, next to them. Not hidden in a cave, fearing for her life. Death never bothered her! After all, nothing lasts forever!