Chapter Two

Nuada had run parallel to Caras Galadhon in hopes of convincing Prince Legolas and his party he had given up on reaching the elven keep, that he was intending escape only, but to his disappointment it did not appear to have worked- or at least not entirely. Only one was following him, but judging by the skill of this tracker (Nuada knowing himself to be well versed in evasion tactics), it was none other than the Prince himself.

He had been- and still was- surprised by the elf. Nuada's expectation of his predecessors was less than favorable. He certainly did not expect them- any of them- to be true warriors, such as Legolas. His initial thought had been that he was simply a notable member of the guard (perhaps he was even in a position of authority)- instead, he turned out to hold the very same title as Nuada. Still, even if this royal had both a title and battle skill in common with him, that did not mean Nuada had dismissed any of his resentment.

Elves of the early ages were weak and gentle and foolish. He despised them for what they had let their race- and all other underworld life- come to, giving up and sailing for Valinor with their tails between their legs while humans destroyed the Earth. The world's magic had been lost in a vicious, systematic, mechanical destruction. Nuada had sworn to himself he would never be like these elves. He had spent years training, and he was unmatched.

Unfortunately, he was in foreign terrain, one man against, potentially, an entire keep worth of guards, and he remained somewhat disoriented. Retreat was now his only plan of action. At least he would only have one opponent... Though if I kill that one opponent, I will be condemning myself, he acknowledged.

Nuada first had been sprinting and trying to use the advantage of his flexibility to weave a difficult path to follow, but it hadn't been effective, and now he simply came to a standstill, turning his head back and forth as he scanned the area. He would meet the elf, here then. At least the fight would be on his terms.

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The trees whispered to Legolas as he passed that the Dark Elf was moving in an arc, and he was moving fast. Legolas, on the other hand, was not slow either, nor did he hesitate: weaving through the trees and over and under branches could not hinder him... He was a wood elf, after all, and very much in his element.

However, just as Legolas was beginning to wonder how much longer Nuada could continue his breakneck pace, the forest settled. He has stopped, Legolas sensed, and he slowed his own pace, his senses on high alert.

His eyes narrowed as he approached Nuada's general vicinity, hidden behind one of the tree trunks, no doubt. He sensed him no differently then he would a spider, a dark aura emanating from amidst the light. Legolas unsheathed his blades, watching and listening for the moment the Dark Elf revealed himself.

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Nuada waited until Legolas drew close, then lifted his knife, and lunged. The Prince had caught his blade with his own, and as if they had plans to execute the same maneuver, all three blades were thrust to the side so that there was no longer anything between them. Nuada, was able to free one hand (possessing only one knife), and his elbow was promptly thrown into Legolas' stomach. The Prince stumbled back, and Nuada pulled his blade free of the other two, but before he could get it up to the other's neck, Legolas thrust one blade at him, and he was forced to block. Nuada quickly grew frustrated at exchanging lightening fast strikes; no doubt, it was a testament to either of their skill, and the seamless movement might fascinate one viewing from the outside as they attacked and parried, but he was running short on patience. Nuada growled, and the next time he caught a strike of Legolas', he put all of his strength into throwing the elf back. In the moment that Legolas' arms were above his head, Nuada dropped into a spinning back kick, and planted his heal in the Prince's stomach. This time he was rewarded with an Oomph.

Nuada's ferocity only increased; his swift and vicious movement did not relent and soon Legolas was forced to concentrate on warding him off. It went on for minutes- minutes that Legolas experienced as far longer. He panted heavily, as did Nuada when they finally separated, looking into each other's eyes with unreadable emotion.

"Well, you certainly are a worthy Prince," Nuada said, his voice was both thick with sardonicism and thinned by heavy breathing. Legolas' eyes narrowed dangerously.

"If you wish to speak, speak intelligibly," he said, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

It was Nuada's turn to glare, but he stopped himself; instead, he let his mouth curl into a mockery of a smile. "You fight well for a royal who sits on his throne and lords over his court," he spat, very clearly.

Legolas straightened from his battle-stance some, frowning. "You begrudge me my title?" What could Silverlance possibly have against the crown, he wondered; then it occurred to him that Nuada was not, per se, making a slight against the crown itself or those who bore it, but rather the ability of those who did. "I have always trained hard, Dark Elf, and even had I not, there is more to sitting on the throne than lording over subjects- more than fighting, too. It requires diplomacy, morality, patience, wisdom, but you know no nothing of ruling-"

"You are exercising your arrogance even now!" Nuada raised his voice to cut above the Prince's as he lifted his blade and lunged toward him again. Legolas met him, and then again and again. Nuada's skill was slowly overtaking Legolas as he pushed him back, the two weaving in and around trees, and then suddenly out into open field; Nuada let up in his unremitting attack for a moment to briefly take in their surroundings at the edge of the wood. The trees continued a half-league across: the clearing was longer than it was wide and continued beyond sight to the left and right- the result of a river that had since ceased to flow; in between were large but smooth boulders and planar rocks jutting out of the ground among the grass and flowers.

Nuada directed his attention back to the elvish Prince who was now steadily retreating into the field; the way which he moved suggested he knew the area well enough, never turning face as he backed away.

Indeed, there was a confidence in his movement, but unbeknownst to Nuada, it was failing him quickly.

Legolas knew his true strength was with the bow, but that would not help him here, in close range. Nuada was even more formidable than he had thought. It would take everything he had to slay this elf. He was being beat down with strength driven blows that rattled the blades in his hands as he maneuvered ever away- and he was thankful that they were matched in speed if nothing else.

Before he knew it they had made their way to the middle of the sun-drenched field, and then the ground began to tremble ever so slightly, causing Legolas some relief- assistance had come. His arms dropped mere inches, but Nuada saw the opportunity and with a raging battle cry, spun toward him and swung his weapon like a sports racket. Legolas raised his knives in half-defense, not able to prepare in time to brace properly for the shattering vibration that ran up his arm when metal clanged.

He grew still following this, ignoring the crawling sensation traveling up his spine and around his scalp. Nuada, now that he had landed his blow, also grew still. They looked at each other with mistrusting eyes as the ground rumbled more intensely, both their minds removed from the fight.

And then a horn in the distance blared.

He is distressed about something, Nuada realized as he looked deeply into azure eyes that had flashed with alarm at the sounding of the horn. What is coming?

"Yrch," Legolas said then, answering Nuada's unspoken question. "I offer you a temporary truce. A danger approaches, and we can only hope to fight together, or we must let them pass." Legolas looked at the ground between their feet as if to point to it as evidence. Nuada knew perfectly well that there was a party traveling toward them.

He clenched his jaw, but he could see the sincerity pressing behind the other elf's eyes, and therefore he had to believe the danger was real. "I have every intention of finishing this after they have passed."

"I expect nothing less." Legolas nodded in agreement.

"How can I trust you, that you will not to slay me while I am defenseless?" Nuada asked, though it was of no real concern to him. He would not let his guard down.

"It has been many years since I have had the opportunity to face an opponent such as yourself. To waste it-" Legolas shook his head in conclusion. "...How can I trust you not to slay me?" He was thinking the same as Nuada: there was very little, if any point at all, in asking the question, but he was curious as to the answer he would given.

"It would be dishonorable," Nuada said simply. "Those who lead have a duty to honor- more so than others."

Legolas' face darkened, again uncertain what was being said. These were words his tutors had told him many a time, even his father on occasion. Was Nuada uttering them as a reminder to Legolasthat he had a duty to honor? Admittedly, he was insulted by the idea that the Dark Elf believed he would betray him after he had given his word- after he had proposed this in the first place.

It never occurred to him that the Dark Elf spoke of himself.

"...Agreed," Legolas snapped; then he looked around the clearing. There were far more pressing matters at hand than the validity of his honor.

"Back to the cover of the trees?" Nuada proposed calmly.

"There is no time!" Before Legolas knew what he was doing he had reached out and grabbed Nuada around his upper arm and was pulling him toward one of the boulders, pushing him down and against it before crouching beside him.

"I do not understand why a band of Yrch would venture this far into the woodland realm!" Before Nuada had a chance to respond the horn blared again, this time much louder given its growing proximity.

"Be prepared to move," Legolas quietly urged to Nuada, looking past him in the direction of the approaching party. The galloping of the horses slowed as they drew nearer to the field until finally what either surmised was somewhere around ten to fifteen horsemen emerged from the tree line. Neither moved at first, not until the party started across the grass terrain in their direction. They would pass the left side, Nuada's side, if Legolas were not mistaken. He tugged on the dark sleeve caught between his nimble fingers and then, with slow and careful movement began to inch his way around the right side of the boulder; this way, hopefully the party would pass on the left, and he and Nuada could remain hidden behind the boulder.

The Dark Elf was silent, and so was he; in fact, he had to pay mind not to make a single noise, for it was completely quiet in the clearing. Legolas finally gave pause. Yrch are not quiet and... Truly, what would a band be doing so deep in Lothlorien?

Legolas stopped moving, glancing to Nuada first and signaling him to remain still before sheathing his blade and loosing his bow from its tie; then he turned and inched himself forward ever so slowly that he might glimpse a sight of the intruders- and glimpse he did.

Haldir! Legolas cried mentally, pulling back against the rock on instinct alone. Nuada was watching him intently, a single brow raised. Legolas almost thought he must have seen the elvish brigade through some reflection in his eyes.

He did not know why he was still pressed against the rock.

He had given his word he would fight Nuada, that they would have a truce, but how could he justify that now? Just as much as he was honor-bound to Nuada, he had a duty to his people- all elves- to ensure their safety. Legolas glanced warily at Nuada. Why had he proposed the truce in the first place? Wasn't he of the mind that Nuada was one of the Dark Lord's Yrch breeds? Yet he had not hesitated in aligning them- he and the Dark Elf- against the monstrosities; it hadn't run the course of his mind that he was not requesting the cooperation of plainly his enemy, but his enemies' ally. Had he lost possession of his mind?

Nuada was now glaring at him with what Legolas thought to be accusing eyes, as if he knew very well what was going through the Prince's mind. In all likelihood, he knew exactly who was on the other side of the boulder, Legolas decided, his confusion intensifying. It would indeed be dishonorable of him to allow the guard to kill Silverlance... But perhaps that did not have to happen. Perhaps they could simple apprehend him... Then they might still have their fight.

This is ludicrous! he realized. What was he thinking, weighing the interests of a dangerous stranger against those of Lothlorien in the name of his own honor when he had been the one to jeopardize it? Shame cut through him at the thought of his foolishness.

The Prince shifted his bow in his grip- if at first for strength, that was soon about to change. With one final look into Nuada's now disturbingly dead eyes, he pushed away from the rock.

His heart thudded suddenly in his chest as Nuada lifted his knife and steadily drew his arm back as if to throw it, but then he stopped, and simply continued to gaze with unfeeling eyes. It would have taken only an instant and the long knife could have been embedded in Legolas' heart while his guard was down.

"Haldir!" Legolas commanded, finally pulling up his bow and nocking an arrow to take aim at the lone elf backed against the rock-face.

He wondered why Nuada had not slain him, and why he had trusted him not to. Why had he even bothered to lift his bow and nock an arrow?

"Legolas! Are you harmed?"

"Nay."

"Secure the other," the March-Warden commanded of his men. Even as Haldir spoke the rest of the Lothlorien force had surrounded the pair of arrivals, swords drawn, and a few bow and arrows readied. Haldir stood next to Legolas and surveyed the strange elf. "The forest led us toward the sound of battle, but why did you hide from us, Legolas?"

"You sounded a Yrch horn," Legolas said, confused and irritated as he lowered his bow.

"There have been a number of attacks on the borders of late. I carry the horn with me and sound it when approaching unknown parties. If they are Yrch they will not have thought to prepare themselves believing we are their kin." Haldir reached out a hand to place on the Prince's shoulder, but turned his head to look at one or the other ellon behind him. "Do it," he said, a simple command.

Legolas watched in horror as a single arrow, faster than he could protest, was nocked and subsequently loosed from the bow; it imbedded itself, albeit shallowly, in Nuada's upper left arm, and his blackened lips parted in surprise as he looked down at himself.

Legolas tried to jerk out of Haldir's grip without any thought of doing so, but the hand on his shoulder tightened, and he looked back to find Haldir's confused and concerned eyes fastened on him. "Our orders were only to detain him. The arrow was dull and dosed with sedative, Legolas."

The Prince turned back to the rock-face, watching as Nuada stood and reached in slow surprise for the arrow now buried in his flesh. He pulled it out with weighted movements before looking up into the surrounding faces, searching for one in particular; though, it was obvious his vision was failing him. By the time he found Legolas, Nuada was beyond making any expression, let alone speech. He gazed, unseeing, ahead. Next, his balance unsteadied until he was forced to lean back against the cold surface of the rock. He was unconscious before his knees and then the rest of his body hit the ground.