Disclaimer: I do not own the characters that Tolkien invented, except for Carnethir.

A/N: I have no idea whether this story is warranted or not. But since Tolkien never stated whether the Elves had any feelings regarding orc-slaying I doubt they do. Since orcs were mutilated versions of Elves, and kin-slaying is prohibited… I decided to do a little story. Sorry I do get any facts or anything whatsoever wrong.

Basically, Carnethir is Legolas's best friend from young, and sort of second in command to the blonde captain. NO SLASH.

– Broken Fairness –

Chapter One
Year 2364, Third Age

Legolas Greenleaf sat close to the fire, eyes blankly staring into its fiery red depths. To an untrained eye, the fair-haired elf seemed to be sleeping, but he was in fact in silent contemplation. The hunt of the last few days circled through his mind, running endless rounds till they made him tired. His group had been tracking a band of orcs in the vicinity for close to four days now. They were easy to track, as usual, for the ground rumbled with the thudding of iron-shod feet, and the grass complained for the heavy treading. The ground had been loosened up by the downpour a few days earlier, and the imprint of orc feet were embedded as they passed.

The elves had followed eagerly on their trail, leading almost six leagues east of Mirkwood, across the plains. They slept few hours as possible during the night, confident of catching the orcs in the day. Yet, as the days passed, it seemed as though some unknown force aided the orcs, for they evaded slaying time and time again. Indeed, it was clearly infuriating the countless times the elves had reckoned the orcs as dead meat, only to find their camp empty and lately vacated. They could blame it on their complacency, or perhaps that their prey were moving as though the Nazgal were after them.

In short, those orcs were a slippery bunch, and Legolas wanted to kill them for the delay.

Mirkwood would be suffering another wave of attacks, and his father would need the best warriors he would get. It did not exactly help matters had the Prince led a group of the best warriors.

They had arrived at possibly the fifth camp of the orcs in the middle of tall bushes, only to find them empty. Again. While the others searched the surrounding area of some sign of them, Legolas stood in the midst of it, gnashing his teeth in irritation, and sure that the orcs were probably sneering at them. His comrades had returned a while later, telling him that they had found not trace whatsoever of the orcs. It seemed that they had disappeared into the very air itself!

There was a riddle in it to be solved. And he had to solve it soon, or risk returning to Mirkwood without further news about the orc movement east of the forest. It seemed unnatural that a score of orcs could suddenly disappear, unless, of course, some dark force was at work.

But he did not believe so. But for the moment, they had camped here, till dawn came and enabled them to search in better light.

A hand clapped him on his shoulder, forcing him to withdraw from his thoughts. Looking up, he saw Carnethir's solemn face looking at him. The two friends looked at each other in a frequent game they usually played as elflings, waiting for the other to back down. Before long the latter's face broke into a smile, and Carnethir sat uninvited on the spot next to Legolas.

"So tell me Greenleaf, what in Middle Earth is so interesting about a fire?"

Legolas glared at his friend and scowled.

"All right, Captain," his friend replied, schooling his face in that of mock solemnity. "What were you thinking about?"

"The orcs." Legolas did not failed to see the raised eyebrow on Carnethir's face, and continued, "It seems impossible! How did they get away? Did the rest search all possible hideouts, caves and all else?"

"We did, even overturning various rocks and stones." The last part was being said with a grin.

Legolas, however, seemed too caught up in his own thoughts that the tongue-in-cheek reply did not reach him. It smelt like a trap to him, somehow, and he hated to be caught in such situations. It meant that more elves would be killed, and prevented a clean kill of it. It meant that he was unable to survey the enemy, and that they had the advantage. Of course, having but fifteen or so trained elves under his command at the moment, the battle could either be for or against them, though tides could change.

He was about to ask Carnethir another question when a faint sound of twigs breaking reached his sensitive ears. He stood up immediately, alerted. It could perhaps just be one of his elves, and his eyes quickly swept over the elves around the campsite. Most were sharpening their blades or inspecting their arrows, readying for battle. There were about ten or so, adding those on watch and Carnethir and him…

Then again, maybe not.

It had to be the orcs.

He strained his ears again for another sound that would give them away, while alerting the others of their presence. They soon spread about the campsite, and the fire was quickly stamped out. Without the sound of stone meeting blade, the night seemed awfully silent, save for the constant merry chirping of the crickets. However he tried, they refused to be silent.

Around them, a chill wind blew, as reddish-black clouds soon appeared in the near horizon. A storm was approaching quickly as it seemed. In his mind, Legolas knew not whether to be thankful for it or not, though the next gust of wind made up his mind.

It blew past him, angrily and swiftly; carrying with it a scent of freshly washed grass… and the stink of Orcs. But it seemed impossible to pinpoint their exact location, for they seemed all around.

An arrow flew past him, so close that he could hear its whistling as it sliced the air past him, and clattered to the ground not far away. Legolas and the rest did not have to take a closer look to confirm that it was an orc arrow. The crudeness and color of it took away whatever doubts they had of it. Yet, no arrow followed its wake, making it clear that it was a 'warning' of sorts.

Lightning rent the air around them, and their hair stood on end, feeling the static electricity around them. In that momentary flash, they glimpsed a great number of dark shapes coming slowly towards them. They were clearly outnumbered, though that weakness would be made up in both skill and speed.

Bows were notched and arrows released, most finding their mark as it seemed from the shouts they heard. Yet the shapes moved closer… till they could even make out their sneering faces. The orcs crashed through the bushes, trampling many in their wake, their smell overwhelmingly strong to the elves' noses.

"Fir, Yrch!" Legolas heard an elf call, accompanied by the sound of blades being unsheathed.

The battle had begun.

TBC…

Fir, Yrch! : Die, Orc!

Please help me Review! And tell me whether the story is warranted or not. If so, it's 5 more chapters of angst and drama!

Thank You! And Merry Christmas!