A.N: Wow, thank you all so much for the amazing support, not one flame, I am most pleased ^^;; I have no idea how I will be able to top that chapter, you will obviously have high expectations for this one, I just hope I can do this one justice. Thanks for the reviews, keep 'em coming!
I walk alone. The rain has mercifully stopped, but my heart is still darkened by the aftermath of the storm. I make my way through the vast battlefield, surveying a nightmarish horror I prayed I would never have to face.
The bodies of fallen elves and men, scattered like leaves from an autumn windfall are intermingled with foul and twisted Orc carcasses. Some bodies so deformed I can scarcely tell the difference. There has not been time to organise the bodies yet, and so many hundreds have perished, it will be a great task to separate them all. King Theoden even suggested that all the bodies could be burnt where they lay, because too much time would be taken to move them.
I was horrified by this suggestion. These brave elves, men and terribly also the babes, so heroic and strong as they gave their lives to protect Helms Deep, protect their women, to be burned among these evil and despicable creatures like common beasts? I could not bear the thought.
I pause now and again, recognising friendly faces, elves I have known since I was a mere elfling, their faces sorrowful in death. One can only guess what the last thing they saw was. Perhaps the joys of seeing their comrades slay a Goblin before they fell, or the pain of seeing a brother in arms fall in their enemies grasp. I mourn for them all, wishing I could take back their pain, and my mistake which caused it all. I would give it all to turn back time, to act a little differently, react a little faster, but that time is passed, and my opportunity is gone, thrown to the wind to taunt me ever more.
I finally come to my destination, and kneel on the blood stained earth in front of where Haldir fell. His eyes are open, deceitful, as if he merely sleeps. But his skin is cold to the touch and the ethereal glow that all elven-kind exude is dimmed by death. As I look upon my friend of many long years I cannot fight my tears any longer, guilt is flowing through me like an angry river, it will not let me grieve, it taunts and jeers at me, the little voice whispering all the while.
It is your fault, Haldir would be alive and well, if only you had stopped that Orc, none of these men would have fallen, trying to prevent them getting further. But you failed Haldir twice, you let them in and you could not cry, could not warn him, could not save him. Even Estel tried, he called, but you are worthless, useless, you failed them all. All these Elves, these men, these babes, their blood is on your hands. It's all your fault.
I clutch my head with one hand, willing the voice away, begging it to leave me be, but I know 'tis true, I know I failed them all.
"Haldir, my friend, I failed you. I could not save you Haldir, I am sorry. Now I have not the chance to apologise to you or seek your forgiveness, forgiveness I do not deserve. I wish I could change it all my friend, I wish I had not failed you. I would give my life to change it all. I am so sorry." I weep, hoping that this will ease my pain, but it worsens it still, I grasp the tunic of my fallen comrade, tears of bitterness and guilt trailing mercilessly down my face, creating a path through the dirt on my cheeks. I reach my hand over, and close his eyes gently. I cannot bear them staring at me, taunting me, accusing me.
The darkness grows inside my soul, threatening to consume me, the knowledge I killed one of my best friends, it tears away at me inside.
This is how you treat your best friends, you cannot save them? You let them die, while you continue living in your undeserving, worthless way? You have no right to live when you cannot save them, you could not save Mithrandir, you did not help him when he fell into shadow and you thought he was lost, you gave up. You could not save Boromir, you heard his horn but you were not with him, your delay cost him his life, you killed Haldir, who will be next, Gimli, Aragorn? You will be the downfall of all. Murderer.
I gasped. 'Twas the first time it had been said, but it hit me like an arrow through my heart. I was a murderer. I murdered all these innocent children, those brave men and even my own kin, I murdered the elves. Bile rose in my throat as I fought the nausea that came with these foul thoughts.
Murderer, murderer, you do not deserve the title of an elf, you are a monster, no better than the Orcs, murderer, MURDERER.
"NO!" I cry, grasping my head with both hands. They are wet and I bring them down to see what covers them. Blood! Haldir's blood is on my hands, his death is on my head. His murder.
Murderer, see how his blood stains your evil hands, see how his eyes stared at you, they know you killed him, they know you murdered him, never to walk in the Golden Wood again, filthy, foul, evil murderer.
"No! Stop it, stop it!" I plead the voice whispering maliciously in my ear. I beg it to stop, to leave me be with my grief, but it does not abate.
Murderer, the mighty Legolas, son of Thranduil is a filthy murderer, killer of elf and man and child. You harm all those you are near, all those you consider friends, what friend are you, murderer, what will they say, what will they think when they know how you murdered your own kin? What will your father say? Murderer, you are no elf, you are an evil creature, evil murderer.
"Please…stop it." My voice is no more than a terrified whisper now, I cannot see for the tears that blur my vision.
You have no right to cry for them, you killed them all. Innocent little babies, never to see their mothers, you tore them from their families, you murdered them all, you failed them all, nothing but a monster.
I stand shakily, wishing to escape the voice that assaults me viciously inside, I clutch my head, trying to banish the whispering, but it will not stop chanting murderer, murderer. I want to scream, to seek solace somewhere, anywhere, to make it stop.
With a cry I run, though it feels as though my legs will give way. I push past men and elves to escape this wretched place, I stumble many times, probably on bodies of the fallen, still I desecrate their bodies, even in their death. I run into Aragorn, he calls after me in fear and worry, but I do not pay him any heed, I simply keep on running, the voice still chanting maliciously in my head.
You are weak and worthless and evil. Murderer. Legolas is a Murderer.
I must escape it.
See, wasn't that awful? Much worse than the last one, right? Please, please, please review and tell me how bad it was, but don't flame. If you have time to read more of my stories (like you'd want to?!) there is a Legolas/Arwen type thing called When Will the Sun Shine Again with a new chapter up, and a rude, lewd and crude comedy LotR- College Style- Drugs, Sex and Donkey Whackers, I'm told it's funny, who'd have thunk it? Anyway, thanks for reading, review!