A gasp leaves his mouth. Then another one, and another. Until it is too hard to keep breathing. 

His kin... His people... His friends... His family... His---Home...

They lie upon their backs and stomachs, legs twisted in an unnatural position, arms stretched outwards as though seeking for help. Help that hadn't reached them in time. 

Legolas gulps back an overpowering urge to just scream. His mind hazily slips into a deeper state of semi-consciousness. This is not real. This cannot be real. He must wake up immediately and warn his father... He must go to his father and tell him of the danger... He---

"Ai... where are they?" comes Aragorn's shaky wail, ringing above his head in desperation and anguish.

When moving forward suddenly Legolas suffers from mild dizziness that momentarily clouds his mind. He squeezes his eyelids shut. "Ai, Estel, I do not know." He lets out a strangled 'no,' facing away from his murdered kin. The warriors' bodies concern him... but it is the children who lay bloodied and bare that have his heart racing too fast. Their faces are mutilated and unrecognisable. He cannot look away. He cannot---

Aragorn halts in his search to stare at his friend with swollen eyes. "Are you scared?" the man whispers, almost too softly for him to hear. 

"I am." Legolas gives his friend a wobbly smile, that leaves his face almost instantly, as though it was never there. "It hurts." The elf fists his green hunting wear, directly over his heart, trying to muffle a shaky sob. He has never before felt this way. Terror plagues his heart, mind and soul. He cannot think, he cannot breathe. With all the will he can must, he pushes through the hot, dizzying sensation aside, and all signs of weakness ebb to the recesses of his mind.

Aragorn walks towards him, only stopping upon being directly in front of him. Their faces are mere inches apart. With a pained gulp the ranger lets his tears create glossy tracks over the dirt matting his cheeks and jaw. Grief has won him over and though he will never admit it, he feels it tear his heart apart. "I do not know where they are Legolas... I cannot f-find them-" The elf swiftly brings up a quivering hand and rests it upon the man's shuddering shoulder.

"I know," He stares kindly past Aragorn's trembling form. "I understand. But we cannot give up hope. Not after all after everything that has happened," his voice cracks. "We have fought too hard to let go now."

Wiping hastily at his wet cheeks, Aragorn tries to choke back his sobs. 

Legolas' brows crease together and his hand tightens upon the man's jerking shoulder. "They are alive."

"We do not know that," the man's breathing quickens. His bloodshot eyes speak of anguish and... acceptance of their defeat.

Legolas' frown hardens and he shakes Aragorn's shoulder, almost pushing him away. "They are alive. I can feel it." He shakes the man's shoulder again, roughly. "They are alive!"

Aragorn only shakes his head sadly, tears dripping down the corners of his eyes. "Legolas, t-they are lost to u-us."

The elf's eyes begin to blink faster and brim with unshed tears. "Why are you saying this?"

"I---ha-have accepted it. There is less pain this way," Aragorn says, voice thick with emotion.

"No. You're wrong."

"There is no hope!" the man yells, breaking away from the elf's firm grip.

"There is always hope." Legolas' face crumbles as he let's a single tear flow.