The clash of steel and roar of battle echoed across the blood-soaked field. Arrows flew like deadly whispers, and the ground trembled beneath the pounding of countless feet. You fought fiercely, every breath burning with determination, but your heart was somewhere else—on the line where Legolas stood.

You saw him now, surrounded by enemies, his golden hair a shining beacon amid the chaos. Then, suddenly, he faltered. His graceful movements slowed, and a dark stain bloomed across his side. Time froze. You screamed inside, “No. Not like this.”

Dropping your shield, you charged through the throng, every desperate step fueled by fear and hope. “Legolas!” you shouted, pushing past fallen warriors and snarling foes. His emerald eyes met yours, flickering with pain but still burning with that fierce spirit you knew so well.

He reached out, trembling. “Don’t leave me,” you whispered, dropping beside him. Your hands trembled as you pressed your palm to the wound, trying to stem the life slipping away.