So here's a one shot I've been wanting to write for a while, and it's actually based off a piece of fan art I saw once upon a time. Unfortunately I don't know the name of the artist, but the picture got me inspired nonetheless.

Basically this is an alternate version of the Legolas and Bolg fight in Battle of the Five Armies. It still annoys me that they had a chance to put a scene like this in the film but didn't. So what does an annoyed fan do? Write fanfiction of course!

Hope you all enjoy!

Note: "Dialogue written like this means elvish is being spoken." and "Dialogue written like this mean the black speech is being spoken."

Warnings: Nothing major, just some violence, and a few injuries.

Disclaimer: How many times must I say it? I DON'T OWN THESE CHARACTERS

I Need You

Snow was flying all around him. It stung his eyes and clung to his skin. Breathing in the cold air sent sharp jabs of pain through his lungs, yet he couldn't stop now. Legolas was fighting for his life, though this was nothing new for him, save for the fact that this was one enemy that wouldn't be so quick to die.

Bolg swung his mace at him again and Legolas barely leapt out of the way. One of the spikes tore at his sleeve, but no blood had been drawn.

Yet.

Legolas thrust one of his knives forward, hoping to end this fight once and for all, but to his shock Bolg reach his hand up and let the knife go straight through it. He was so startled that he released the knife and stepped back, his first mistake. Bolg studied the knife in his hand, unphased by the blade that was sticking out the back.

The orc's eyes lit up and he turned to Legolas with a smirk on his face. Turning his hand around he swung out his arm, attempting to stab Legolas with his own weapon. The elf jumped back, other knife clasped tightly in his hand. Bolg continued to advance, both mace and knife jabbing at him, searching for something to sink their blades into.

Legolas found himself stepping off the makeshift bridge he'd created and onto the cliffside.

Here the terrain was just as uneven as the bridge, loose rocks slipped out from underneath his feet, if he fell it would be the end. Bolg's lips curled back in a sneer as he continued to force Legolas back. He searched desperately for an advantage point, any place that he could leap onto, but he was having a hard enough time avoiding Bolg's attacks.

His single knife wasn't strong enough to parry the mace, and it was too short for him to attempt stabbing the orc. For the first time in a very long time; Legolas was afraid. He had been trained to keep his emotions in check during a battle, but panic had begun to take over the elf's mind, clouding his senses and tampering with his judgment.

His back struck something hard; a ledge. Quickly glancing up he saw that the ledge was too high for him to jump, and attempting to climb would end with a mace or knife in his back. Bolg knew he was trapped; they both knew it. Adrenaline took over Legolas' body, the desperate will to live caused him to rush his thinking. He waited for Bolg to raise his weapons, then he ran forward.

It was a move that no elf would ever try, for it would only end in disaster, but Legolas was both young and afraid for his life. And fear caused one to do desperate things, such as charge at a massive orc with nothing but a knife. Legolas ducked under the mace and thrust his knife forward, hoping that it would end with a fatal blow to the orc. Fate, however, was not on Legolas' side.

Bolg swung his arm out, slamming it into Legolas' side. The elf crashed onto the hard ground, stunned and breathless. It was here that he made his second mistake; he released his other knife. Before he could reach for it Bolg kicked the weapon off the side of the cliff, far from Legolas' reach. As the orc moved closer Legolas rolled away, quickly scrambling back to his feet.

He had no weapons; he was defenseless.

This had never happened to him before, what was he supposed to do?!

He'd always had his weapons, or others around him to watch his back, but there was no one here now. He'd left his father, Tauriel could be dead for all he knew, the dwarves they'd come to help were nowhere in sight, even if they were would they bother to help him?

Bolg tore the knife out of his hand, throwing it over the cliff as well. Legolas didn't need to wonder why the orc did it; he was defenseless. Killing him now would be easy. Unless he could escape. Legolas glanced at the ledge, if he could make it up there he would be able to flee. Perhaps he would find an abandoned weapon from a fallen orc, he would at least have something to defend himself with!

But getting to the ledge would mean running past Bolg; would he make it?

Legolas took a deep breath, it was a risk he would have to take. Mustering his courage he ran, hoping the sudden action would catch Bolg off guard and not give him time to react.

He was wrong.

This time when Bolg swung his mace; he did not miss.

The impact sent Legolas crashing into the very ledge he'd been trying to reach. His head slammed against the cold rock, it was a miracle that he didn't lose consciousness. He felt something warm and sticky on his side, when he looked at his hand it was covered in blood. He tried to sit up only to fall down again, his mind was screaming for him to get back to his feet.

A hand grabbed both of his wrists, crushing them against each other while hauling him into the air. Legolas was slammed against the ledge, his feet hanging inches off the ground. Blood covered the side of Legolas' head, his side was bleeding from the mace, and his entire body was sore. He looked up and met Bolg's gaze; the orc had a sadistic glint in his eyes, making Legolas shudder.

Gritting his teeth he fought to free himself, but he would not be escaping so easily this time. Bolg raised his mace, lining it up with the elf's heart. Legolas kicked out, trying with all his might to break free, but there was nothing he could do.

He was going to die.

In one last, desperate attempt to save himself Legolas pressed his feet against the rock and pushed off with all the strength he had left, the action causing Bolg to thrust the mace forward into his flesh. Pain exploded in his shoulder as the mace pierced him, and he screamed. The sound pierced the cold, winter air. Echoing over the rocks. Causing one figure to freeze in his tracks.

Thranduil had thought he would never hear that sound; and for a moment he could only stand there dazed, praying that it was just in his head. When he heard another scream, this one louder and more desperate, he broke out of the ice that had frozen him and ran. The elvenking flew down the mountainside. Leaping over rocks, listening and searching for any sign of his son.

When he arrived at the ledge he looked down, the snow blinding him for just a second. Once his vision cleared he saw one of his worst nightmares unfolding before his eyes. There was Legolas. His son, the only family he had left, the one who meant more to him than his own life, was lying motionless before a monstrous orc. The beast had its weapon raised, ready to bring it down onto Legolas' prone form.

With a cry of rage Thranduil leapt off the side of the ledge, twin swords drawn and blue fire in his eyes. Bolg stepped back just in time to avoid being struck. The beast snarled in anger at having been so close to killing the young elf. Thranduil stood in front of Legolas, his eyes burned with uncontained anger. His swords were drawn, each one pointing at the orc.

No words were needed for Thranduil to get his message across.

If you touch my son, you will die.

Bolg raised his mace, Thranduil lifted his swords, Legolas saw his father standing over him.
"Ada?"

Thranduil looked down at his son, his anger replaced by fear and pain. Legolas had never sounded so weak, his voice shook as he bled out through numerous wounds on his body.
"Legolas…"

The distraction was all Bolg needed. With a roar the orc charged at Thranduil, knocking him aside with his mace.
"Ada!" Legolas screamed, watching his father crash onto the hard ground. He pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the pain that spread throughout his body. Legolas ran forward, but he did not get far.

Bolg's arm wrapped around his neck, crushing against his windpipe and cutting off his air. His back was pressed against the orc's chest, his hands clawed uselessly at the arm holding him, his face was twisted in pain and his eyes were wide with fear. Thranduil stood shakily to his feet, one arm wrapped around his middle the other grasping one of his swords. His armor had taken the brunt of the damage but hadn't saved him from injury. He saw Legolas, hanging helplessly in Bolg's grasp. His face turning red from lack of air.

Bolg sneered, enjoying every second of seeing the fear in the elvenking's eyes.
"Do you remember me elf? Did you expect to see me again?"
Thranduil's eyes said it all, the orc laughed and loosened his hold on Legolas, only enough for him to draw air into his lungs.
"The last time we met, you were begging for mercy. Not for you, but someone else, someone else you were trying to protect."

The memory pounced on Thranduil like a wolf attacking its prey. He remembered that day in Gundabad. Orcs and elves fighting all around him, the air thick with smoke, his wife hanging in the grip of an orc.

"Do you remember her screams? How she begged for you to save her?" Bolg tightened his arm around Legolas' neck once again, the elf's legs kicked as he tried to free himself. Thranduil was trying to control himself, to banish the memories from his mind, but they latched onto his mind and refused to let go.

He saw her face, pale and covered in blood and dirt. Her eyes dull with pain, tears clearing tracks through the grime that coated her fair skin.
Thranduil, please….

He heard her cries in his head, his heart pounded in his chest.

"What did you do elf? Were you able to save her?"

In his mind, Thranduil screamed as a sword plunged through her chest. She gasped as her breath left her, and sneering in sadistic pleasure, was Bolg. He cast her body aside, letting whichever orcs were near tear into it. Thranduil charged at them, slaying all who came near him, leaving Bolg to escape the battle.

"For years we tortured her, but she was weak." Bolg spat loosening his grip on Legolas once more. "She was not worth the time we wasted trying to break her, she broke too easily, she was weak."

Thranduil tried to bring himself back to the present, but in his mind he was still in Gundabad, fighting to reach his fallen wife.

"But your son, he is strong."

Thranduil was torn out of the memory. His eyes locking onto his son's, those eyes that reminded him so much of her. They were begging, pleading for Thranduil to save him, just as hers had. Bolg snarled and leaned his face close to Legolas, the elf shuddered and tried to break away.

"He would last for many years, I would enjoy seeing how much he could endure before he finally broke."

Legolas closed his eyes as Bolg licked the side of his face, tracing a thin line of blood with his tongue. When the orc moved away Legolas opened his eyes once more. His blue eyes screamed for help but his father was unresponsive.

"And if he doesn't break," Bolg growled, "my master could always find a use for him."

Something inside of Thranduil snapped.

The chains that had been holding him shattered and fell away.

Ignoring the pain in his side he snatched up his other sword and ran, his hair whipping behind him, his eyes burning with rage.

Bolg threw Legolas aside and raised his own weapon, charging to meet the elvenking head on. Their weapons met with a terrible crash. Thranduil leapt back and swung both swords at the orc who blocked them with his mace. Bolg roared when one of the blades sliced his arm open, rendering it useless. Thranduil attacked again; blood sprayed onto his armor as he severed Bolg's hand. The mace fell onto the ground, leaving Bolg weaponless just as Legolas had been.

Thranduil's attacks kept coming. Every time a sword cut across his flesh Bolg roared in both pain and rage. The orc glared at the elvenking, who was ready to deal the blow that would end the creature's miserable life. Just before Thranduil brought his sword down Bolg smirked, something that caused him to hesitate for just a second.

It was all the time he needed.

Whirling around Bolg ran towards Legolas, who was standing right in the orc's path.

Thranduil had no time to call out a warning as Bolg collided into the young elf, he wrapped his arms around him, carrying them both over the side of the mountain.

"No!" Thranduil cried and sprinted towards the edge, throwing both of his swords aside. Throwing caution to the wind Thranduil climbed down the rocks as fast as he could. His eyes desperately tried to pierce through the snow that obscured his vision.

His feet came in contact with solid rock and he released the cliff.
"Legolas!" His voice echoed through the empty air, there was no response. He started forward, tears filling his eyes, but he refused to let them fall.
"Legolas!" He listened for a response, his chest tightened and he struggled to breathe.

Then he saw it, a body lying on the cold rock.

Thranduil ran towards it, recognizing Bolg. The orc was dead, its neck had snapped in the fall. The creature's eyes stared blankly at the sky, blood trickled from its mouth. Thranduil's eyes caught sight of another body lying a few feet away, pale and still.

"LEGOLAS!" Thranduil leapt over the dead orc, he ran to his son's side and fell to his knees, gathering his son in his arms.

He looked at Legolas' pale face, his eyes were closed and dry blood was caked onto his face. His green tunic was soaked with blood. Snowflakes stuck to his hair and eyelashes, dark against his white skin.
"Legolas? Legolas please…" Thranduil caressed his son's face, trembling at how cold he was. "I'm here now ion nin, it's alright, you're safe now. Wake up. Open your eyes…"

His son's head rolled limply against his chest.

He did not stir.

Thranduil shook his head, his hand trembled as he held the back of Legolas' head, trying to hold him upright.
"No, Legolas don't do this, do not leave me too."

Silence met his words, there was no one to hear them.

A single tear fell from Thranduil's eye, falling onto Legolas' chest, freezing over his still heart.

"No! Please Valar do not take my son from me! Anything but my son!"

Thranduil lifted his head towards the sky. "Already you have taken her from me! Was that not enough?! Did you have to take him too?! Give him back to me! GIVE ME BACK MY SON!"

There was no response.

Thranduil screamed and cradled Legolas in his arms, letting his tears fall freely from his eyes. He pressed his forehead against his son's, running his hand through his golden hair whilst his body was racked with sobs.

"Please Legolas," he whispered, "come back to me, I need you…"

The snow continued to fall on the two elves, neither one aware that the battle had been won, the enemy had been defeated. None of that mattered to Thranduil. He was lost in a world where time did not exist, holding his son in his arms, praying for him to wake up.

That was when he heard it, a sound so soft that Thranduil first mistook it for the wind. Then he felt something stir in his arms. Thranduil opened his eyes, they were met with those of his son, staring back at him.
"Ada…"

Thranduil couldn't speak, could not think, could barely breathe. Instead, he held Legolas in his arms, tears of joy now falling from his eyes. He was alive! His son was alive!

"Forgive me Legolas, I shouldn't have left you." Thranduil smiled at him, not in the way Legolas was used to, but with warmth and love.

Love for him…

"You mean so much to me Legolas." Thranduil held him close as if he feared he would vanish if he let him go. "I don't deserve a son such as you, I'm sorry for taking you for granted, for not being the father I should have been."

Legolas remained silent. He looked up at his father, for years he doubted that his father cared for him. For decades he had believed that his presence was only tolerated, but now he knew the truth. His father did love him, he loved him so much that he let his fear of losing his only son control him, and Legolas had let his own resentment blind him to the truth.

Legolas leaned his head against his father's chest.
"I forgive you ada," he whispered closing his eyes. Legolas never saw his father's face after he spoke those words, but he did not need to see it, he felt the ice inside Thranduil's heart shatter. As he drifted off into a healing sleep, Legolas could feel his father standing with him grasped securely in his arms.

He was going to be alright, him and his father, they would take care of each other. Nothing would ever separate them, and Thranduil vowed that he would do everything in his power to protect his son, unaware that Legolas had made the same vow.