190Author's Note: Sorry I usually do these at the end, but I decided to just put this one right here. I started this story when I was fifteen and to be honest, I thought I would finish it when I was fifteen. But then I got distracted with school and I got a chronic illness, but mostly I got tired and I got lazy. I thought that I abandoned this story for good, but I kept on getting reviews asking me to continue it.
So here I am
~One game to rule them all,
One game to find them,
One game to bring them all,
And may the odds be ever in your favour~
Legolas found him easily. It wasn't like he had tried to hide, either. Blood was smeared everywhere around him, on the trees, on the grass. He was covered in it, smelling of rust and of murder, looking like a complete savage. Legolas always knew that they taught barbaric ways to those in Two, he just never thought that they would be this bad.
The silvery rays of the false moon made Aragorn's eyes glow in the darkness. He clenched his hands, panting loudly as the dried blood formed scales along his skin. Standing in the moonlight next to this bloodied animal, Legolas felt something that he might have recognized as fear if he had ever bothered to feel it before.
He had no time to react. Aragorn lunged at him, knife in hand, laughing manically.
"So you've made it this far, pretty girl," Aragorn said as he swiped his knife, breaking the skin on Legolas's face. "Only three left! Three! You, me, and the man who killed Arwen... But soon it will be two, yes two. Me, not you, and the man who killed Arwen!"
Legolas ducked another knife swipe, and brought his fist to meet Aragorn's face. The man from Two didn't even flinched as Legolas's knuckle collided with his jaw. Legolas leapt backwards and stared at him in horror.
He had seen what grief had done to his father. With Legolas's mother, and most of his children gone, his father had decided that fine wines were better than reality. Legolas had always scoffed at his father's foolish ways, but now he realized that his father had been wiser than Legolas had given him credit for.
Legolas's father's grief had turned to a life time of addiction; Aragorn's grief had turned from rage, into insanity.
Legolas pulled out the knife he had stolen from Estella's corpse, and joined Aragorn's frantic dance of death. There was no running from this fight; and there was no point to it. With only three left, it was better for Legolas to get rid of Aragorn now and save the pathetic boy from Five for last.
Aragorn lashed out again, this time opening up a perfect opportunity for Legolas to strike. The blond lunged forwards, knife aimed for the other boy's throat, when a fist came down on his head.
He crumpled to the ground, pain shooting up through his skull, and attempted to dodge Aragorn's knife blow to his head. In his dazed state, he only managed to pull slightly away from the man, and got the knife to his left eye.
He was lucky enough for his reflexes to kick in before it could go any deeper, and he withdrew. Legolas screamed as the knife came out, blood pouring down the left side of his face. It felt as though his eye had been pulled out with the knife, his head throbbing from Aragorn's original blow.
Aragorn's smile grew as a cold wind picked up. Legolas was surprised that the Gamemakers weren't making it thunderstorm right now, for dramatic effect, but grateful. With rain, it would be impossible to staunch the flow of blood from his wounds.
"Oh, look at you. Not so pretty anymore, are you?" Aragorn cooed at him, and Legolas bit his lip. He was getting his ass handed to him, and this wasn't some fight he could walk away from. There was no trainer to tell them to break up when it got too dangerous; there was no medic ready to heal his minor cuts and bruises. This was a real fight against somebody who knew what they were doing with nobody to intervene.
In Aragorn's moment of cockiness, Legolas pushed himself upwards, and jabbed his knife into the man's shoulder. Aragorn howled in pain, and swiped at Legolas. The boy from One had to dodge before he could retrieve his knife, leaving it stuck in Aragorn's shoulder.
Panicking, Legolas looked around for any close ranged weapon he could use. His bow would be no good in this situation. There was no time for calm, precise shots when a bear of a man was barrelling down upon him. Legolas wasn't even sure if he could aim properly with all the blood pouring down his face.
It was at that moment when the first thoughts of him losing these Games struck him. He had been going through these days certain that he would make it through to go home. Now, he was hurt, bleeding, and fearful that he was going to die. It made him so unnerved that he felt as though he might throw up right there.
Aragorn, however, regarded the knife in his left shoulder like it was a daily occurrence. He pulled it out without even wincing, and held it in his other hand.
"Thank you for the knife," he said, holding the bloodied thing up in the moonlight. "I was always better with swords, but knives are so up close and personal… I'm getting quite fond of them."
Legolas stared at him in disgust. Thinking fast, he grabbed a nearby rock and lobbed it at Aragorn's head. When the man ducked, Legolas flung himself at him, trying desperately to wrestle at least one of the knives out of his hands.
Aragorn was much bulkier than Legolas was before the Games had started. Though they were both now thinner, Aragorn seemed to have lost less mass than Legolas, and in that weight came strength.
The knives when flying out of his hands, but Aragorn overtook Legolas, smashing him against the ground. The air was knocked out of him, and Legolas had no chance to regain it, as Aragorn's hands had grasped his throat.
"Die," he said under his breath, "die die die die die die die die die!"
Legolas reached out for one of the knives. Aragorn, seeing what he was doing, let go of the boy's throat, and grabbed the closest knife. Legolas was still trying to get air into his lungs when Aragorn plunged the knife into his stomach and ripped it across.
Legolas screamed, and sheer panic took over him as he looked down at his mangled body.
Aragorn sat back, looking at Legolas with pleased expression on his face. "You're screaming more than the twelve year olds I got a few hours ago. You sure your balls have dropped yet?"
Legolas didn't care about Aragorn's insults; all he could care about at this moment was the fact that he was breathing, and the fact that there was still another knife glistening in the grass.
Weakly, slowly, he reached over and got the knife in his palm. It felt cold against his clammy skin, and heavier than it originally was. Mustering up all of his remaining energy, Legolas surged forwards and plunged his knife into Aragorn's throat.
With the act done, Legolas's hand slid off of the knife, and he slumped against Aragorn. "Fuck you," he gritted through his teeth, tasting blood in his mouth.
Aragorn's voice was weak and gargled as he said, "The same to you," and then grew very still, a loud boom assuring his death.
Legolas smiled. He had won this fight. He pulled himself off of Aragorn's body, and tried to stand. He then felt violently ill as he stared down at the gaping hole in his chest and watched his intestines try to peak out.
Slumping to the ground, Legolas felt tears appear in the corner of his remaining eye. He was going to die. He was going to die in the Games that he was supposed to win.
A bright light was coming over the horizon, as well as a sweaty, dishevelled boy from Five. Gimli took one look at the scene around him, and tried to keep his measely breakfast inside of his stomach.
"Oh my…" Gimli lowered his axe and fell to his knees at Legolas's head. Though he had despised the boy with all of his heart, he could not deny a dying man some comfort.
"You," Legolas said, looking up at him. He reached up with a bloodied hand and touched Gimli's face. "You." His hand dropped, leaving a smear and some warmth that quickly faded.
"Shhh," Gimli said, stroking the boy's hair, unsure of what else he could do in this situation.
"Please…"
"What do you want?"
"Kill me."
Gimli stiffened, and then stared down at Legolas. Gritting his teeth, he reached for his axe.
"I'm sorry…." He said, and he brought it down with his eyes closed.
Legolas's cannon fire was drowned in the sound of trumpets, but to Gimli, it was the loudest out of all twenty-three.
Death of Tributes in Order of Disappearance:
All tributes from Districts who were not Lord of the Ring-itized (3, 7, 8, 9); Bloodbath; Day One
Frodo Baggins, District Four, Shelob (Mutt); Day Two
Rosie Cotton, District Eleven; Wargs (Mutts); Day Three
Sparkle Sprinkle, District One; Legolas (burned to death); Day Four
Ioreth Stellar, District Twelve; Infection from Warg cuts and Burns; Day Five
Diamond, District Six; Estella (pushed from cliff); Day Seven
Freya, District Five; Lobelia (spear through chest); Day Eight
Samwise Gamgee; District Eleven; Mutt/Gollum; Day Nine
Lobelia Sackville-Baggins; District Four; Legolas (broken arrows); Day Ten
Boromir Stewart; District Twelve; Legolas (three arrows to the chest); Day Eleven
Arwen: District Two; Gimli. (axe to the chest ) Day Twelve.
Estella Bolger: District Ten; Legolas (knife to the throat); Night Twelve
Meriadoc Brandybuck; District Ten; Aragorn (sword to the stomach) Night Twelve
Peregrin Took; District Six; Aragorn (head smashed in) Night Twelve
Aragorn Elessar; District Two; Legolas (knife to throat) Night Twelve
Legolas Greenleaf; District One; Mercy (Gimli) Day Thirteen
Gimli Oxford; District Five: Winner Day Thirteen.
The End
Thank you to everybody who reviewed and begged me to keep going. This is for you.