Author's Note: I'm very sorry for this taking so long. I've been terribly busy lately, but now am going to update both of my stories, starting with this one, and keep going at a better pace. Thanks for all the reviews, they have really meant a lot and made me really try to find time to write more.  Please, keep the reviews coming!!!!

Chapter Four: Partings

Gandalf was far in the lead in front of Legolas.  The Wizard knew they would not meet up with the entire Fellowship, for they have already broken.  Boromir has passed and Froto and Sam have already begun their journey towards Mordor.  He knew they would meet Gimli and Aragorn, now on their own seeking to rescue Merry and Pippen. 

            "Come along!" Gandalf cried, "I thought you Elves were fast on your feet!"

            Legolas woke from his daydreaming and caught up to Gandalf easily.

            "Something is wrong, fair Elf. What is it that troubles you so?"

            "There is something amiss. I cannot explain it, but it is a feeling in my heart that something terrible is about to happen."

            "I'm sure your keen senses will tell you when the time is right."

            They traveled all day and into the night. Gandalf's magic helped him speed along and an Elf can travel longer without rest than any mortal.  Together they would reach them very quickly.  The whole time, Legolas felt something odd, something elusive calling him.  To where, he could not know, only that it's call was stronger than the seas and pulling straight from his heart.

            In Mirkwood, the new day brought no songs, no beauty, no warmth for they had lost the only heir to the throne.  He only hope for the continuation of their people.  Thranduil had no wife since his first one, Legolas' mother, was killed all those many years ago.  It would be centuries now before they could dream of seeing another heir rise to the point of being able to rule in his father's place.  The darkness of these thoughts was almost more than the society could bear.  Their guard was down, and the enemy knew it.

            "We will kill all the Elves of the woodland realm, we will finally set all of Mirkwood into darkness."

            Thranduil sat alone, thinking of his son, remembering moments from his youth.  It was hard raising a son, without his beautiful wife, Legolas looked so much like her.  He also had her strong spirit.  He remembered taking young Legolas out for walks in the woods of their lands.  The King smiled as he remembered his son's fascination with every creature and plant they would come across.  Legolas was definitely a child of the woods, he had a stronger connection with the forest than any wood-elf he had ever known.  Now, that child was gone, taken from his home and killed somewhere far away, without any speck of home to comfort him, and Thranduil would never forgive himself for that. 

            He was taken out of his thoughts when the alarm began sounding, this could only mean one thing.  Orcs were attacking.  Why now?  Why can we not have one moment to think of those who have fallen, for now those numbers are rising with great speed.

            "Your majesty?" A guard knocked on the door with great urgency.  Thranduil slowly rose to open the door.  When he did he saw the panic on the guard's face.

            "We are under attack, we need you, Your Highness!"

            "I know."  He began to prepare himself to lead the small army he had left.  Now, however, things seemed darker, the end was coming.  Soon, the woof-elves of Mirkwood would only be a myth of times past.  The King knew, his people were in their last hour.

            "Oh, Legolas, we need you now."

            Gandalf stopped, for his companion was now shaking where he stood, looking distraught and afraid.  The Wizard knew something of great evil must be stirring to upset an Elf so visibly.

            "My home is under attack, Mirkwood is about to fall.  I must go, Gandalf! I must fight alongside my father and my people.  My place is by their side, in war as well as in peace.  I cannot in good conscious go with you while evil overruns everything I hold dear."

            Gandalf smiled, "I understand, Legolas.  Your ties to your forest are stronger than any power I can wield that would try and stop you from going.  You must be with your kindred, for in seeing you again, their hope may be rekindled."

            "What do you mean? How is my absence hurting them?"

            "You will understand soon, Legolas.  For now, do not let your mind be troubled or wander from your goal.  Go, fight with your people and then, when the battle is completed, meet up with the Fellowship as soon as you can.  For I am not relieving you of your duties thereto, just granting you a small leave to attend other matters.  Do you understand me, Legolas?"

            "Of course, Gandalf.  When Mirkwood is safe, I shall see you again.  I shall fight with you and see the evil of Mordor destroyed." Legolas turned toward Mirkwood and ran with all possible speed, not looking back. 

            Gandalf felt a great darkness welling up in his heart.  He could not stop Legolas from going to fight in Mirkwood.  However, he knew that Mirkwood might not survive this onslaught.  That the fair elven wood might not ever see that immortal race again.  If events were left to run their course as he saw them, then he knew he would never see Legolas again.  The Elf would never meet up with the Fellowship, and they would lose yet another member of their increasingly dwindling company.

            For now, all Gandalf could do was continue on his journey to find Aragorn and Gimli. 

            Orcs spread quicker than ever before, and soon they would be at the castle gates. The battle had lasted for a great length of time.  The Orc's darkness invaded every inch of the wood, even the trees cried out in agony as they descended into evil, their branches never to dance on the winds again.  The fair Elves could not stop them this time, they could not hold out any longer.  A desperate scream rang throughout the forest, the army was scattered and now they could do nothing but try to escape the invaders.  Thranduil stood by his palace, for he could never run, never leave Mirkwood, he would fall into shadow with his homeland.  He most loyal of his friends stood by him, ready to fight until the last.  The Orcs ascended the stairs leading into the great structure.  The Elves stood firm, holding their swords and bows in the air, ready to charge. 

            In that moment, a figure appeared in the distance.