Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. All names and places belong to J.R.R. Tolkien and/or New Line Cinema and MGM.

Part 1

The air was full of menacing sounds, bursting with the rattling of swords, the battle cries of men and orcs, heavy boots crunching on gravel and stone. Despite the cries of war, Legolas felt an eerie silence sneaking up on him as he and Tauriel rode toward the ruin of Dale. The bridge leading over a trench into the former city of men was littered with the cadavers of orc and men, a few leaf-shaped golden Elf helmets here and there peeking out of the dark pile of bodies. The smell of freshly dried blood hung in the air. The cold fingers of fear enclosed Legolas' heart when he spotted his father's formerly grand elk lying dead to his feet. His eyes scurried over the battleground but there was no trace of the king. Was he injured or, even worse, dead? A wave of fear washed over him, leaving him paralyzed for a moment. No, that could not be. Legolas tried to reason with himself. He had no reason to doubt the fighting skills of his father. Thranduil was a lethal weapon, swift and merciless, moving with the grace and the stealth of a feline predator on the hunt. He wouldn't have fallen so easily.

"Legolas." The voice that arouse above the roar of battle was familiar. "Prince of Mirkwood."

Mithrandir was coming toward their horse and he had a halfling with dark blonde curly hair in tow. Legolas gave a nod and dismounted from his horse. Tauriel slid down after him.

"There is another army coming from the north," Legolas hurried to inform the wizard, swallowing the concerns about his father's whereabouts. "Bolg is leading an army out of Gundabad."

"North?" the hobbit exclaimed. "Where exactly is north?"

Mithrandir's head shot up in the direction of Ravenhill, the defensive outpost of the dwarven kingdom of Erebor that was overlooking the valley of Dale.

"Thorin's up there," the hobbit gasped, his voice shaking with fear. "Fili and Kili, they're all up there."

"Kili," Legolas heard Tauriel whisper behind him. She stirred uneasily.

"Follow me," Mithrandir commanded but Legolas found himself unable to move. His feet seemed all of a sudden frozen to the ground. From the corner of his eye, he saw the wizard stride away. Tauriel went after him. The halfling's eyes met those of the Elf prince, a curious mixture of doubt, fear, anger and anticipation flickering in them. Legolas held his gaze until the halfling turned away. As small as he was, he seemed utterly out of place in the grotesque scenery and still, somehow, he looked as someone who had a purpose. Truth be told, he seemed very conscious as to why he was there.

Legolas forced himself to follow the wizard. They had come to warn the others that the offspring of Azog the Defiler would soon be here with a second destructive force of evil. Fighting that army was the next logical step. They would have to reorganize their own forces in order to be able to fight on two fronts, since Azog himself had his orcs assailing the gates of Erebor. When the prince caught up with the wizard, he found him arguing with Thranduil. When he saw his father clad in his silvery armor, carefully stepping through the bodies of his fallen soldiers, Legolas heart beat faster with nameless relief. The relief soon gave way to several different thoughts that kept pouring into his mind from out of nowhere. Legolas did not know how Thranduil thought about this war, could not guess his father's motives. After interrogating one of the orcs that had assailed the gates of the Woodland Realm in an attempt to head off the fleeing company of dwarves, Thranduil was well aware that the flames of war were upon them although he had kept his thoughts as to what these flames would mean for their kingdom to himself. Legolas could not tell if his father had brought his army here in order to face this threat or if he was pursuing other objectives. Legolas knew he could blame nobody but himself for this lack of knowledge. He had left the Woodland Realm with the clear order to bring Tauriel back within two days after she had made such a hasty departure upon the discovery that a poisoned orc arrow had injured the young black-haired dwarf. Legolas had found her by the stony riverbed near Esgaroth, where she had managed to convince him that Thranduil's isolationistic way of ruling did not only violate morality but also placed their lives, the lives of the Elven race, above that of all the other races. She had questioned his sense of duty by indirectly asking him if he shared his father's opinion that other lands were not their concern.

"This is not our fight," Legolas had told her, anxious to not stab his father—who had, after all, done his very best to protect Tauriel all those years—in the back.

"It is our fight," she had replied firmly. "Are we not part of this world?"

And so he had given in, defying his father's orders when he should have been standing by his side, aiding him in the preparation for battle. After he had learned that Thranduil had banished Tauriel from his kingdom but commanded him to return as soon as possible, he had done the very same again, blindly holding on to the belief that … He did not know what belief he had been holding on to. He knew that Tauriel had her doubts about Thranduil's motives. She was sworn to protect him but Legolas had sensed how she had begun to put this position in question lately. Not only this position, he had to admit, but his father's ability as king. Legolas had not dared to voice these thoughts before, not even silently in his head, but he could no longer deny them now. Tauriel thought that his father's mind was corrupted; that he did not care about the other races facing the dark power seeping out of Dol Goldur into Middle Earth; that he was a poor leader, a poor politician, a poor king, maybe even a poor father.

"My lord, the orcs have come to Ravenhill," Mithrandir was saying. "The dwarves are about to be overrun. Thorin must be warned!"

Legolas tried to force his thoughts back into the present, tried to shake off the crushing feeling of guilt. He suddenly saw clear as day just how much he had wronged his father when he had let himself get carried away by Tauriel's rebellious mind. Her motives had seemed pure and honorable to him at the time but it dawned on him then that they were not. She was in love with that dwarf, or at least she thought she was in love with him, which was what had brought them both to this very place at this very time; the wrong place for Legolas.

"By all means, warn him," Thranduil told Mithrandir, the tone of his voice matching the icy stare of his grey-blue eyes. "I have spent enough Elvish blood in defense of this accursed land. No more!" He turned away, striding purposefully toward the gate.

"Thranduil!" Mithrandir shouted after him, his voice vibrating with despair. When Thranduil did not turn back, the wizard hurried away.

Just as Legolas wondered if Tauriel had set out to Ravenhill all by herself, she appeared in front of his father, blocking his way. To Legolas' bewilderment, she commanded, "You will not turn away. Not this time!"

"Get out of my way," Thranduil hissed, his voice colder than the winter air.

"I will not," Tauriel said firmly. "The dwarves will die."

Legolas shook his head, trying to bring her back to reason. But she did not see him. Her gaze was fixed on the king. Oh, how much she despised him.

"Yes, they will die," the Elvenking replied icily. "Today, tomorrow, ten years from now or a hundred years from now. What does it matter? They are mortal."

In one swift movement, Tauriel grabbed her bow and pointed an arrow directly at the king's face. "You think your life is worth more than theirs," she scoffed. Legolas wondered if ever before someone had squeezed so much contempt, so much hostility into so short a sentence. "But there is no love in it," Tauriel went on. "There is no love in you!"

Thranduil lunged towards her. "Tauriel!" Legolas heard himself shout. "It's enough!"

Thranduil stopped midway and turned around to him in wonder, his eyes shimmering with astonishment and, along with that, anger. Tauriel stood frozen, still pointing her arrow at the king, her eyes glistering with tears. Legolas stepped between them, shielding his father from the arrow that would pierce his chest if Tauriel chose to fire it, which was exactly the place where he was supposed to be. "It is enough," he repeated.

Her features lined with disappointment, Tauriel lowered her bow. Her lips twitched but she remained silent. Legolas expected her to say something, anything, but she would not deign an answer. Disappointment gave way to anger and so she just turned on her heel and left.

Thranduil's eye bore into his as soon as Tauriel was out of sight. Legolas bowed his head, his head spinning as he frantically searched for the right words to say. "Forgive me, Ada," would probably not be enough but he said the words anyway. "I didn't—"

"Save your apology for later," Thranduil interrupted him. "We have more important things to discuss."

Notes:

-It's basically from this point onwards when Legolas and Tauriel arrive in Dale that I would have liked to see the story develop differently, at least with regard to the Mirkwood Elves and their involvement in the story, their motives, their actions and so forth. So this is basically what I'm doing here, playing with how 'The Battle of the Five Armies' could have ended if things had been a little different. (And I do not mean the battle, I mean the movie.)
-It's been three weeks since I last saw the movie, so forgive me if I didn't get all of the dialogue right. There are a lot of other things on my mind these days.
-I took the "bring her back in two days" bit from a deleted scene that didn't make it into the theatrical version (or the Extended Edition) of 'The Desolation of Smaug'. You can watch it here: watch?v=qln92dJKwDo