If only they had all been together, Ciendriel thought later. If only she had caught up to Legolas. It might have made the difference in saving his life. Haldir had insisted that the rest of them stay together, that Legolas could handle himself. She was tempted to blame him for what happened, but in truth, she could not.

After all, she had been the one who provided the fatal distraction.

She heard the noise up ahead before they reached the spider web. The voice of Gimli-- the Dwarf was alive. Quickly she told Angelica, sensing much relief in the Hobbit girl. Ciendriel sprinted ahead of the rest, not letting even Haldir's shout hold her back -- but he was close behind her, his brothers staying back to keep up with the smaller strides of the Hobbits.

Pippin and Angelica had warned them that Legolas suspected that giant spiders had taken Gimli. There had been little time after that to discuss it. Ciendriel had heard legends of giant insects that dwelled in the Mirkwood, but they had no such creatures in the vicinity of Ingra, so she knew little about them. She was completely unprepared to see monsters as big as an Elf, or bigger. Yes, they were even bigger than Haldir.

Legolas had already killed three of the dozen or so attacking him when she arrived on the scene. Gimli was still bound into their web, but he was alive and hollering.

"Give me my ax! Legolas! Run! My ax! Where is it?"

"Legolas!" she cried, drawing her bow. She should never have called out his name.

"Ciendriel!" he turned his head at the sound of her voice and the spider fell upon him. Ciendriel saw its long, white fangs, dripping with iridescent poison, glittering in the early morning sunlight just before they crunched into Legolas' throat.

She screamed.

Haldir was behind her, then, and his arrow flew straight into the head of the beast, knocking it off of Legolas, but the beautiful Prince of Mirkwood had already fallen to the ground. She ran to his side, fell on her knees in the dirt next to him, tears already blurring her vision as she grabbed him, shook him, calling his name over and over again. Legolas lay still and unmoving in her arms, his blue eyes closed. Already he was cold.

Haldir fired arrow after arrow. Two more spiders fell before the Hobbits and Rúmil and Orophin came charging out of the trees. The brothers drew their bows and Merry, Pippin, and Frodo drew forth their swords. Sam was armed with a frying pan.

"Stay back, Angelica!" Pippin cried, putting himself in front of the female. Angelica wisely stayed behind him as Sam, Merry, and Frodo took on one of the spiders together. It put up a good fight, kicking Frodo hard into a tree, and shooting a wad of sticky webbing all over Merry, before Sam stunned it with the frying pan and Pippin sliced its head off with his sword.

Ciendriel looked up and saw a spider descending upon her from the trees. Desperate to protect Legolas, she shot an arrow up into its belly. It squealed deafeningly, causing her teeth to grind, and a shower of black, reeking blood rained down upon them. Caught up in its death throes, the spider began to fall. Quickly Ciendriel dragged Legolas out of its path, and when it crashed to the ground, she drew her sword and viciously slashed it in half, not caring that this covered her even more in gore.

She was enraged and could hardly see. How could Legolas be dead? It was impossible, unbelievable…and utterly, utterly her fault. She picked up her sword, tempted to fall upon it in her mad grief. Haldir's hand smashed hers hard enough to bruise and she lost her grip on the weapon. It clattered away from her, skidding across the forest floor.

"No!" he said vehemently. "Stay by Legolas!"

Again she dropped to her knees by the body of her beloved. She cradled Legolas in her arms, tears pouring freely now. She hardly noticed the remainder of the battle around them, cradling his head and shoulders in her lap. She smoothed her hand over the fatal wound, feeling the poison mingled with his blood burning her hand. Wildly she had the thought that if she sucked out some of the poison, she might restore him to life.

Ciendriel brought her mouth to Legolas' throat and pulled deeply at the gash. It was like drinking fire. She spat it out and repeated the procedure. She wished desperately that she had some King's Foil with her, as it slowed poison. But… Legolas was already dead. She stopped, her mouth wet and stinging with the poisoned blood, her face wet and stinging with her tears. She licked her lips and swallowed.

"Let the poison take me as well," she whispered. She bent towards the fallen Prince and licked the cut again, only this time she swallowed the mouthful of blood that she drew forth. "I'm sorry, Legolas," she said, feeling heat spiral through her. She turned her head and vomited onto the ground.

A moment later Haldir was crouching beside her. He was speaking to her rapidly in Elvish, but she could barely understand him. Her vision grew even more and more blurry. She looked up at him, then put her hand on his face.

"I killed Legolas," she said. "Now my own life is forfeit."

"No, you did not kill him," Haldir said vehemently. "I will not allow you to die."

"Too late. I have tasted the poison and am going to join him. Perhaps we will be reborn together." For Elves, Ciendriel knew, never had a true death. Their souls went on to the Undying Lands to await a new life, a new birth into the Middle-earth.

"You haven't swallowed enough poison to die. Besides, as your betrothed, I forbid it," Haldir said, sounding maddeningly logical.

Had she not been losing feeling in her hands, she would have slapped him. Instead all she could do was to slump against him and let him put her arms around her. How ironic that she should die in the arms of the Marchwarden, she thought.

"I am sorry if I hurt you, Haldir."

"Don't be foolish!"

"Perhaps I chose the wrong path," she said, her voice more and more faint. She could see nothing but Haldir's fair face looming above her. She could not feel her body at all any more. "Galadriel showed me that I could find happiness with you. I rejected it, and have brought death to Legolas."

"Ciendriel, be quiet and lie still," Haldir said. She let herself imagine the tenderness in his tone, for she knew these would be the last words she ever heard.

The Elf Princess of Ingra closed her eyes.

***

Angelica had ducked safely behind Pippin and watched him and Sam slaughter one of the enormous spiders before she remembered that she was carrying Gimli's battle ax. When the next spider came right on the heels of its brother, she whisked around in front of Merry, who was tangled in sticky goo and chopped one of its legs off.

It reared up, making a hideous shrieking sound of angry pain. Terror coursed through Angelica as she stared up at it, frozen in horror as it loomed over her. Sam bashed at its legs with his pan, knocking it onto its side, and Frodo sliced open its belly. The force of his blow sent Sam stumbling forwards and Angelica had to jump out of his way to avoid being beaned with the pan herself.

Unfortunately, Sam careened into Merry instead, luckily not smashing him with the pan, which went flying out of Sam's hand, but falling down on top of him, the webbing all over Merry cementing the two of them together, leaving them both helpless.

"Lassie!" Gimli cried. "Bring me my ax!"

Angelica turned, seeing Gimli still strung up helplessly in the web that Legolas had only cut a few strands of before he fell. She glanced over at the Elf, who was on the ground with Ciendriel beside him. Dead? It couldn't be. But Angelica had no time to think about this now.

She ran over to Gimli and swung the ax at the web with all her might. It sliced through the material like butter, and Gimli fell to the ground with a crash. She began ripping the silk off of him. What he was bound with was less gooey than the rest, and soon she had him free.

He seemed little worse for the wear, aside from his red, puffy eyes. He got to his feet, rocking unsteadily, then took up his ax.

"What a warrior you are, little Hobbit!" he said, and then he leapt into the fray.

Arrows whizzed overhead as Haldir's brothers picked off the creatures still descending from the trees with an enviable grace and skill, never missing their marks. Spiders fell left and right, and Angelica had to duck out of the way of the bodies. It seemed to take an eternity, but in reality the battle was over in a matter of minutes, and Angelica counted the corpses of fourteen spiders in the clearing.

Sam and Merry were attempting to unstick themselves from each other, with little luck. Pippin had sheathed his sword and was trying to help them, but was getting stuck to them as well. Frodo told them to stand still and managed to free them from each other with Sting. But what of Legolas and Ciendriel?

"No!" Angelica heard Gimli cry out, running to the side of the fallen Elf. Rúmil and Orophin were already at their brother's side.

Haldir held Ciendriel in his arms. Her eyes were closed, and she did not seem to be breathing. Fear flooded Angelica. They could not lose the royal pair! It was inconceivable to her. She ran towards the Elves, sensing the rest of the Hobbits behind her.

"Is she dead?" Angelica cried.

"Poisoned by the spiders," said Haldir grimly.

"The poison is not fatal," Frodo said, putting an arm around Angelica to calm her. His touch was soothing. She wanted to bury her head against his shoulder and weep, but this was not the time for it.

"And-- and Legolas?" Gimli said.

"He has a deep wound in his throat," Haldir said. "That is worse than the poison. I can tend it, but I need plenty of water. We will move them to the river's edge, away from this place."

"He will live, then?" Angelica asked anxiously.

"It is too soon to say. The poison has put him into a trance which can not be discerned from death. It will be days yet before I know if he will survive," replied Haldir. His voice contained no emotion, and Angelica wondered how he was feeling. Surely this had to affect him in some way! He could not be that cold…

Or could he?

The Marchwarden of Lothlorien easily assumed command of the party of travelers, directing his brothers to carry Legolas between them, keeping him as flat as they could after he had torn a part of Legolas' tunic to use to bind the wound and stop it from bleeding. Haldir carried Ciendriel himself, cradling her in his arms lightly and easily.

"Dwarf, are you well enough to march?" Haldir asked Gimli.

"I can march as well as you can, and twice as far," Gimli said, drawing himself up and shouldering his ax.

"Good. Let us hope you will soon be twice as far away from us," Haldir said. "Frodo Baggins, you take the lead, and head to the left. Dwarf, rear guard."

Frodo tried to smile at the other Hobbits, but Merry, Sam, and Pippin looked as glum as Angelica felt. They were all worried about Legolas, every one of them. He had been a good friend.

No, Angelica thought, she would not allow herself to believe that he might die. He was a good friend, even to her, who hardly knew him, and she wanted desperately to see him win his Princess.

She fell into line behind Sam and Frodo, and Pippin and Merry quickly flanked her. They were followed by the Elves, then Gimli, and after an hour's walk, they found themselves at the side of the river.

***

Frodo Baggins led the party to the edge of the river. It was turning out to be a beautiful day after the rain storm -- or at least it would have been had he not been so very concerned about Legolas. He was not worried about the bite of the spider, because he knew from experience that the poison had only a temporary effect. Still, there was that nasty gash in his throat, but immediately after making camp, Haldir had set Sam and Orophin to find several different herbs he needed to make a poultice for the wound. They did the work quickly, and Haldir tended the two unconscious Elves.

He told them that Ciendriel would be fine, and would probably awaken in one to two days, as she had swallowed only a little of the poison. He had not said much about Legolas’ condition, which led Frodo to believe that it was grim, indeed. They made camp, and Frodo was grateful. When he sat down, he realized how tired he really was.

He slept for a solid ten hours before awakening suddenly. It was dark again. All the Hobbits were sleeping around him, and Gimli was snoring as well. Someone had made a fire, and it crackled softly, providing heat. Frodo stood up and stretched, then warmed his hands near the fire. Only Haldir was awake, sitting guard over the bodies of his fallen comrades.

“Where are your brothers?” Frodo asked him softly, slipping up beside him.

“I sent them to steal a boat.”

Frodo had to hold back a laugh. “What?”

Haldir looked up at him with no trace of amusement in his features. “We need to get to Mirkwood as quickly as possible. We can be there in a day by boat. There is a village nearby, a village of Men. I sent them to steal a boat. Or hopefully, two boats. There are many of us.”

“How is Legolas?” Frodo asked, more seriously.

“He lives. That is all I can say,” Haldir replied. “There are Elves more skilled with healing than I at Mirkwood, Elrond and Morgone among them. The sooner we get him to them, the better his chances to survive this wound.”

As they spoke, Rúmil and Orophin returned, piloting a great raft. Frodo’s eyes widened. “I am truly impressed,” he murmured.

“We will leave at dawn, then,” said Haldir with satisfaction.

“Would it not be best to leave now?” Frodo wondered.

“Perhaps, but even for Elves it is difficult to pilot a boat so heavily laden in the dark. Besides, the others desperately need rest. You should be resting, yourself.”

“I’m not tired,” Frodo said, looking at the boat. “Will it hold us all?”

“It was made for transporting horses, I should think,” Haldir said as his brothers anchored it at the edge of the campsite. “It will serve us well.”

“Haldir...” Frodo looked up at the Elf, who stared down at him seriously.

“I will do everything in my power to keep Legolas Greenleaf alive,” he said. “On that, you have my word. You may not believe it, but I would give my life to spare his.”

Frodo considered this for a long moment.

“I believe it,” he said at last.