-Aldril-
"Those bastards have gotten tougher..." I whispered to myself, looking up as the fine, cold raindrops struck my face, washing away the mud stains.
Standing at the bottom of a small smoking crater and surrounded by the smell of burnt grass, I let out a sigh. I never imagined those wraiths would discover so quickly that Bilbo had already left the house. I had to resort to the combination of my magic to finish them off in a single strike; otherwise, if the fight dragged on, I would have given them the chance to slip away and hunt the others down. And, being without a horse myself, it would have been difficult to chase after them.
With an agile leap, I climbed out of the crater.
Immediately, my sharp senses caught the sound of hurried footsteps approaching me in the storm. It didn't take me long to figure out who it was; in the rainy night, my eyes made out the silhouettes of dozens of wet beards rushing toward me in the distance.
It took the Dwarves no more than a few minutes to reach my position. They arrived panting from the run, with surprise etched on their wrinkled, wet faces. One of them stepped forward; his watchful eyes scanned the surroundings.
"Lord Aldril... what the hell just happened here? Where are Lords Kíli and Fíli?" he asked, alarmed upon seeing that Bag End was giving off plumes of smoke and seemed completely empty.
"We were attacked by Sauron's wraiths," I replied dryly.
The mere name of the Dark Lord caused the Dwarves to clench their fists, making the thick handles of their axes creak.
"But do not worry," I added, making a dismissive gesture with my hand. "I have sent them safely to Rivendell. I stayed behind to deal with the Nazgûl personally."
"To Rivendell?" repeated the Dwarf leader, blinking in disbelief at the mention of the Elven valley.
"Yes. There is a matter of utmost importance that your lords will speak to you about in due time. For now, I have a mission for you: take absolutely all the belongings from Bilbo's house and bring them to Moria. I will catch up with your lords on the road."
The commanding Dwarf tried to protest, but I silenced him dead in his tracks with a single look. They had a deep respect for me, and besides, they would follow my orders without hesitation if the situation demanded it; or at least that was what Kíli had assured me.
Soon, the Dwarves began to organize themselves and bring out their mounts, which neighed and protested, reluctant to go out in the storm. Taking the reins of one of the steeds, I set off in the direction of Rivendell. The rain represented no obstacle for me, and the darkness of the night even less so; those were the advantages of having eyes like mine.
...
However, the great disadvantage of riding a normal horse and not my dear companion, Shadowstar, was that every few hours I was forced to stop so the animal could rest. I didn't hold out much hope of catching up to my family on the road; the beasts they rode were no common steeds and could easily maintain a gallop for an entire day. And let's not even talk about Shadowstar... the stubborn bastard could spend an entire week running without getting tired.
"What a pain!" I muttered.
I threw another log onto the small makeshift campfire and watched the sparks fly. The horse rested a few meters away from me, snorting from exhaustion. At least I didn't have to worry about provisions for my journey; I carried strictly what was necessary in the backpack the Dwarves had prepared for me. As for my storage ring, I had given it to Tauriel. Inside it held enough supplies and rations to sustain the entire family for at least a whole year.
I am not stupid enough to let my wife and children leave without resources. As for their safety on the road, there wasn't much to worry about either. During his years of patrolling, Aragorn had personally taken it upon himself to exterminate almost all the wandering Orcs that plagued these areas, and the group would inevitably cross through several Ranger watchpoints.
So, deep down, I had the absolute certainty that they would arrive safe and sound in Rivendell.
...
-Forest of Rebirth-
Legolas rested his head on the sheets where his beloved Sigrid had been sleeping. However, feeling that comforting warmth replaced by the chill of dawn, his eyes snapped open.
His heart skipped a beat upon seeing the empty bed. Every ounce of sleepiness vanished in the blink of an eye. He looked around with desperation and, rushing out of the room, intercepted a group of Elf-women to ask for her.
"Lady Sigrid left a short while ago with Prince Ethelion and Princess Nimlothel," one of the maidens answered him.
Muttering a word of thanks, Legolas broke into a run. He didn't need to ask for directions; his instincts screamed at him that his wife had taken their children to that magical and beautiful field of flowers, the very place where their eyes had met for the first time.
Something deep within his soul tore with every stride. An icy premonition grew in his chest, squeezing it to the point of making him hyperventilate. The agile Elven prince stumbled over the roots, blind with panic.
"Please, let everything be alright... let everything be alright," he repeated like a choked prayer.
When he finally reached the clearing, he was greeted by the warm morning light. And there she was. Laughing softly beside their children, stood his beloved wife. She looked young, vibrant, and radiant; not a single trace remained of the dying state that had consumed her in recent days.
But something felt wrong.
Very, very wrong.
"Darling..." Sigrid said, with a voice overflowing with affection. "We were waiting for you."
Legolas swallowed hard, suppressing with all his might the knot of panic forming in his throat, and forced his best smile.
"Sorry for the delay, my love."
Sigrid returned the smile, and a profound love reflected in her crystalline eyes. With a deep, serene sigh, she opened her arms and gathered the three of them into a tender, tight embrace. Ethelion, Nimlothel, and Legolas himself reciprocated immediately, clinging to her.
"I love you..." whispered Sigrid. "I could not have wished for a better family in this entire life."
That confession hit Legolas like a hammer straight to the heart. They sounded exactly like words of farewell.
Ethelion and Nimlothel felt it too. The children knew perfectly well their mother's fragile state, which was why they had been so surprised to see her walk out of their Aunt Tilda's garden on her own two feet to ask them to accompany her to the clearing.
Legolas tightened the embrace, refusing to let her go, but then he felt it. Sigrid's body began to lose weight in his arms. Opening his eyes, terror paralyzed him: the tips of his wife's hair and the edges of her dress were already fracturing into a magical light, turning into tiny emerald green fragments that the morning wind was beginning to snatch away, slowly dissolving her into the air.
Taking a step back, Sigrid gently pulled away from their embrace. Legolas and the children were left completely paralyzed, unable to articulate a word at what was happening to her.
"It is time for me to go, my love," she told Legolas, with infinite sweetness in her voice. Then she turned her gaze toward Ethelion and Nimlothel, whose eyes were already overflowing with thick tears. "My beloved children... you have grown so much. It is time for Mama to go."
Turning around gracefully, Sigrid clasped her hands behind her back. Legolas tried to take a step forward, raising his hand to hold her back, but his feet did not respond.
With one last, radiant smile, the body of his beloved wife shattered into thousands of glowing emerald green fragments. As if she were made of crystals of light, the magical particles were swept upward by the wind, vanishing into the illuminated sky.
Nothing was left of her, but her voice, soft and tender, floated in the air around them like a final breath:
"Take care, my beloved family."
**
Hello filthy orcs!!
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