Astalder27 Like Leggy, I also chose high places to go sulking. Unfortunately, I can't climb the tree in my backyard anymore. I'm not as agile as I used to be. Old age, you know.
Yami Tai : Sure! I'll send you 'Triple Jeopardy'. You have sea-longing too? So am I! What's this? New epidemic for planet earth?
Nclowe Trust me. I'm not really a polite company. LOL! Thank you so much for the support.
Kel Feelings? No, I don't think I have those. What are they? (Nostradamous was the oracle who predicted the fall of World Trade Centre in New York on 9/11)
Aurehen I agree with you. Better late than never. I keep repeating that to myself when I feel too lazy to review the stories I read on ffnet.
Ellemire You're confused? Oh, I'm so sorry, baby. There, there. Stop crying. Read on, then. Read on.
Milisa Don't miss this coming cliffie then!
MCross Everyone will be OK, I promise you. Your husband works in KL? Cool! Which part and what co?
KeluinLossehilin It's showdown, all right.
Beginning-end-314 : Wow! That's a very long holiday! Lucky you. I got an ang-pau too, from my superior who is Chinese. Lucky me!
Legolas' Garden Light : Hey. Wake up, mate. I'm back. Come on, now. The battle is about to begin.
Ceyxa LOL! Oh, yeah. I know what you mean. And this is what my father always says to me, "You're my baby and I love you and I'm proud of you but you give me the biggest headache, you know that?"
BitterLee I'm glad you love that cliffie because here's more!
Kalayna I also thought of using 'son of an orc' or 'son of an oliphaunt' but they just don't seem right. Hehe..
Leralonde Kel can be quite evil sometime, can he? Poor Leggy…
Rutu Have you received 'Triple Jeopardy' in your mail?
Moonshine44 Yep. Legolas is gonna have lots of fun!
Legosgurl Nope. He's not gonna be reborn.
Seylin You're a Nostradamous buff? Thank God I'm not the only one! Well, used to be would the correct word.
MoroTheWolfGod You summed it up perfectly. A chess game, indeed.
Hi, everyone! I'm back! Still a bit woozy from all those mandarin oranges, though. Haha!
Here it is, the chapter you all have been waiting (or dreading?) for. (If the battle scenes seem stupid, please bear in mind that I was drunk while writing this. Blame it on the oranges.)
Beware of a cliffie…as usual.
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Thranduil was still in the courtyard when the thunder cracked. It was so fierce that it literally shook the earth, causing some of the elves to cry out in fright.
Frowning at the darkening sky, the king said to his army commander, "Make sure they all get inside. Tell them to move faster. It looks like it's going to rain."
Linden nodded and went to delegate the king's orders to the guards. Thranduil craned his neck, searching for Gandalf among the throngs of people. He finally caught sight of the wizard who was assisting a lady with her young child. The little girl couldn't stop wailing, causing her mother to start crying as well.
Gandalf suddenly stiffened. He straightened and quickly turned around, his eyes widening in horror.
"Thranduil!" he shouted, already running towards the king. "Behind you!"
Alarmed, Thranduil spun, barely aware that Linden was also dashing towards him. Before he could fully comprehend the approaching danger, a powerful blow hit him in the chest, knocking him off his feet. He felt himself flying before he landed with a sickening thud onto the hard stone-paved ground.
Groaning, his ears ringing, Thranduil painfully rose to his elbows and looked dizzily around.
Everyone's down, he thought in dismay, staring at the limp bodies lying all around him like broken toys. Commander Linden was moaning several feet away, his left arm twisted at an unnatural angle. Gandalf, blood trickling down his chin, was struggling to his feet. Obviously, the wizard was still unsteady because he fell back onto his haunches.
His vision doubling, Thranduil heard the shouts of the guards that came running out of the palace. Making their way towards their king, the warriors aimed their bows and arrows at some point behind him. Still groggy, Thranduil turned to look over his shoulder. He caught a glimpse of a tall, dark figure calmly approach, right before the stranger suddenly swiped his hand in one smooth move.
Thranduil felt the blow again, much harder this time. It sent him rolling on the ground, over and over. He came to a stop on his stomach, bleeding profusely in the mouth. Slowly raising his head, he saw a pair of black boots appear within the line of his blurry sight.
"The king ofMirkwood, I gather?" the stranger spoke, his voice gentle yet firm.
"G…Gald…dor…" Thranduil painfully growled, trying hard to rise.
Galdor chuckled. "That's me, king. Galdor the manyan."
"No…you're not…" Pushing onto all fours, Thranduil managed to lift himself off the ground, but Galdor threw his fist and punched the king's jaw. With a short cry, Thranduil dropped back to the ground.
Smiling in anticipation, Galdor knelt and made a move to touch the king's forehead. "I've never taken a king's soul before. I believe yours will make me more powerful."
But before his hand could make contact, Galdor sensed someone come rushing behind him. He quickly jumped back, just in time to avoid a powerful blow to the back of his neck.
"Get away from him!" Legolas shouted, planting his feet protectively between the dark manyan and Thranduil's prone body. "I'll see you dead before I let you touch him!"
If Galdor looked evil before, he looked even more sinister now. His oddly handsome face broke into a cruel sneer, showing off his white perfect teeth. His silver eyes were so like Legolas', but instead of shining with kindness, they glinted with malice.
"Well, well, well. There you are. The other manyan." With a swagger, Galdor stepped closer to Legolas until they stood almost chest to chest. "The one I desire to kill."
To his credit, Legolas didn't even blink. Unfazed, he stared at the darker elf, clenching his fists at his sides. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Keldarion cautiously come near to kneel by their father's side. Barely conscious, the king was moaning, his eyes tightly shut.
Galdor stared at the crown prince when he recognized him. "Aren't you supposed to be dead?"
Angered by Galdor's cruelties towards their father, Keldarion gripped the pommel of his sword in a tight fist, waiting desperately to use it. He had managed to grab his beloved weapon from his room before running outside with his brother as soon as they had heard the screaming.
"It's your death that's supposed to take place," the crown prince hissed through gritted teeth, his face red.
With a sardonic smile, Galdor lifted his arm in a wide arc. But before it could create another powerful wave, Legolas quickly took advantage of Galdor's exposed torso by ramming his elbow against the dark manyan's heart as hard as he could.
Stunned, Galdor stumbled several feet backwards, almost losing his balance. Rubbing at his hurt chest, he glared at the prince, amazed that Legolas' blow could cause him pain.
He is not completely invincible after all, Legolas thought, equally surprised. He is not immune to me.
"Legolas…"
The manyan prince chanced a look over his shoulder. Keldarion was holding their father upright. Thranduil gazed sadly at his youngest son, his eyes slightly glazed with pain.
"It will be all right, father. I'll take care of this," Legolas said, smiling reassuringly. "Kel, you and father need to draw back. I don't want you two getting hurt."
"No…" Thranduil was shaking his head as he struggled to his feet with Keldarion's help. From Legolas' determined expression, he knew what his younger son was attempting to do.
No, he couldn't let him. He wouldn't let his child battle with the dark manyan alone!
"Legolas, no…"
But Legolas was no longer listening to him. The golden haired prince was now calmly walking away, away from his family and his people, intentionally transferring Galdor's full attention onto himself.
His staff missing, Gandalf went limping to the king's side. "You need to retreat, my lord. Kel, let's get your father some place safe."
But even Keldarion had trouble moving. He couldn't take his eyes off his brother because Legolas began to look a mite different. Despite the tense situation, Legolas' face was highly glowing, looking so serene and beautiful. Even though alone and unarmed, he was more than ready to battle with Galdor.
Holding on to Keldarion, Thranduil suddenly gasped out loud. "He is wearing all white."
By the Valar, it's true. Keldarion also noticed. Barefoot, Legolas was clad in nothing but a white nightshirt and a pair of white cotton pants. And his long golden hair, looking a bit paler than usual under the dim light of the approaching storm, flew behind him in wild abandon, pushed back from his shoulders by the strong wind.
Without a doubt, Legolas was the white manyan.
The white manyan shall feel death.
"G…Gandalf…" Thranduil tried to say, feeling very worried. What he feared most was about to come true. "We can't…we can't let him fight Galdor."
The king started to make a move towards his youngest son. The wizard quickly pulled him back. "No, my lord! We can't stop this from happening. It's fated. We can't change a thing that's already written."
Pushing his father into Gandalf's care, Keldarion declared, "I'll go help Legolas."
With a growl, the wizard used his free hand to yank at the prince's arm. Keldarion was already unsheathing his sword.
"This is not your fight!" Gandalf snapped. "Your blade is useless, Keldarion. You will only kill yourself by going out there. Now, let's back off, both of you. Give the two manyans room to battle."
Keldarion and Thranduil still didn't move. In the end, the wizard had to drag them both along with him, muttering hotly under his breath about the stubbornness that ran in the blood of a certain royal family.
But Gandalf could not take them beyond the courtyard steps because the king and his elder son planted their feet adamantly, moving no more inches. Besides, the entrance into the palace was already packed with the people of Mirkwood. Despite their injuries and fear of Galdor, the elves would not want to miss the imminent clash of the two manyans, frightening though it was.
The fallen guards were gingerly picking themselves off the ground. Hurt and dazed, they worked together to gather their unconscious comrades and the rest of the badly injured elves. There were also some horses lying all over the ground, but most were already dead upon impact, their necks broken.
Cradling his injured arm, Linden stumbled towards his king. "My lord," he said with difficulty, a grimace of pain marking his face. "With your permission, I shall launch the archer squadron against Galdor."
His eyes bleak, Thranduil turned to the commander. "No, don't. You heard what Gandalf said. All kind of blades are useless against him. Besides, we don't want Legolas caught in between. He might get hit in the process."
Linden didn't like it, but he knew Thranduil was right. He saw Keldarion standing on the other king's side, supporting his father. Highly anxious, the Mirkwood crown prince could not look away from his brother. He gripped his sword tightly, ever ready to wield it if the needs arose.
Meanwhile, on the field across the courtyard, Legolas was meeting Galdor's glare head on. Of the same height and stature, both manyans stood unmoving, quietly assessing one another's strength and weakness.
When the sky wept…
As predicted in the prophecy, the heavy sky opened up and let down the rain.
The two manyans didn't even flinch, their battle of stares unbroken. Within seconds, they were thoroughly soaked, their hair completely drenched. Lightning cracked merrily above their heads, but they gave it no heed. The tension was so poignant that no one in the sidelines dared speak a word in fear of breaking the eerie stillness.
After what seemed like an eternity, Legolas and Galdor started to move slowly in a circle, warily eyeing one another.
"You've had fun, sucking innocent souls?" Legolas asked in a soft voice. Dripping wet, his thin nightshirt clung to his body like a second skin, showing off the outline of his lean and muscle-toned physique. His sodden leggings were sticking to his legs, but he didn't even mind the discomfort. Oblivious to everything else, he had his eyes and mind only on Galdor.
"Definitely." The dark manyan smirked. "And the best one I had was your brother over there. I want to take him again, after I kill you."
Legolas refused to be goaded. Reining in his temper, he smiled coldly at the other manyan. "That won't happen. Only one of us will come out alive, and that will be me."
"Don't be too sure, young one. I'm a lot stronger than you!" With a cry, Galdor flung his arm.
Legolas was prepared for it. He crouched, bracing himself, but the powerful wave that knocked out anything else in its path didn't even harm the manyan prince. He felt the blow glancing off his chest, felt the whooshing of the air and water flying past him, but that was all. He was still standing, not down.
"Legolas is immune to Galdor's bolts of evil wave," Gandalf quietly explained to Thranduil and Keldarion when those two instantly turned to him in bewilderment after witnessing the phenomenon. "That's because Legolas has the ability to produce them too if he takes anyone's soul. But, of course, he doesn't know that."
"Another manyan secret, Gandalf?" Thranduil dryly asked. "Anything else I should know about my son?"
Gandalf looked quite chagrin. "Hmm, no. That's about it."
Stunned yet pleased, Legolas grinned at the darker elf who stared back at him in great disbelief. Galdor quickly looked down at his hand, wondering why his supernatural power had no effect on the manyan prince like it had with all other things.
"Impressive." Legolas nodded, as if he was indeed in awe. "But that completely shows the coward thing that you are."
"Fine. I'll kill you the easiest way—with my bare hands!"
At that, Galdor leaped high into the air, his fist pulled back. Legolas instantly sidestepped and bent over to one side. The blow missed him by mere inches.
Growling, Galdor brought his other fist and swung it against Legolas' throat. Seeing the danger, the prince flipped backwards, kicking hard at the same time. The dark manyaneasily avoided Legolas' swinging legs. He grabbed a fistful of Legolas' long hair and yanked forcefully, sending the prince off balance.
Before Legolas' could regain his footing, Galdor spun him forward and kneed him in the sternum. The prince choked on the sudden pain, his chest felt like exploding. He quickly reached out to grab Galdor's wrist that was still buried in his hair, and gave it a vicious twist.
Galdor yelled and instinctively let go, giving Legolas the chance to straightened and brought up his fists, ramming them into his opponent's chest with all his might. The dark manyan went flying backwards, but he managed to send a vicious kick into Legolas' face before falling down.
His head snapping to one side, Legolas stumbled over and hit the ground with a harsh cry. He lay there for a moment, dazed and disoriented, black spots marring his vision.
All right. That one hurts, he thought, wiping the blood that came trickling down his nose. Ten feet across from him, Galdor was struggling to rise. The dark manyan sent the prince a baleful glare, one that Legolas was more than happy to return.
Keldarion rushed forward when he saw his brother fall. Gandalf hastily held him back. "No, don't. He doesn't need you now. And there's nothing you can do can help him."
The prince didn't believe it, and his glower told the wizard so. Gandalf ignored it. "Just watch, your highness."
Thranduil reached out and tugged at his son's sleeve, anchoring the prince close to his side. Standing on the sidelines with the rest of the other elves, they both looked on, transfixed by the battle in progress. Like Keldarion, the king hated to be there, to witness his youngest offspring fight with a cruel monster. But he didn't have much of a choice, did he?
Back on their feet, Galdor and Legolas rounded warily on one another, looking for the chance to attack. The earth was wet and muddy beneath them, making their footing quite slippery. Their hair and clothes were dirty from their fall, but that was the least of their problems right now.
Legolas squinted through the water that fell off his lashes. It began to irritate him, this rain. He was wet, he was tired, he was sore, and he was bloody hungry. That last thought brought a smile to his lips.
What a strange moment to think about food!
"Give it up, young one!" Galdor barked when he saw that smile. He thought Legolas was mocking him. "Surrender to me and I'll give you an easy, clean death."
"Easy? Clean?" Legolas snorted. "It's that how you think it was when you killed your own sister?"
Galdor's face darkened even more. With a hiss, he charged forward in a lightning move. Legolas was caught off guard and a blow glanced off his neck. He didn't stumble, though, but back pedaled and returned charges. Galdor blocked, and threw more punches in retaliation.
For a while, the two manyans were locked in a fast-moving hand-to-hand combat that was as graceful as it was deadly. One moment they were spinning and dodging, and the next they were swinging and lashing. There were cries of pain as blood spurted from various nicks and cuts. They dropped to the ground, rolling in the mud, and got up again to continue their lethal game.
Thranduil clutched Keldarion's arm in a tight grip, fearing for his young manyan son. Legolas was an exceptional warrior, agile and always fast on his feet, but…but this was a powerful elf he was fighting! A cruel and crazy one, he might add. The Mirkwood king didn't want to see any more of this battle, but he just couldn't take his eyes away from his son who now began to falter.
As the rain dwindled, so did Legolas' strength. His body felt sore all over, his arms laden. His ears still rang, and he couldn't even feel his face. His head hurt, his legs hurt, and even his eyes hurt.
Blast it! Everything hurts!
All he wanted right now was to lie down on the ground and go to sleep. But he couldn't do that yet because Galdor was still standing, though the dark manyan looked no better than him. There was a big bleeding bump on Galdor's cheek, and Legolas wished to make it even bigger.
With a harsh cry, Legolas flung himself against his rival, throwing them both into a puddle. He made a move as if to chop the back of Galdor's neck, but the other elf quickly rolled over and pinned Legolas underneath him.
Too late, Legolas realized, his plan had backfired. Growling angrily, Galdor pushed the prince's face into the puddle, trying to drown him. Legolas twisted and bucked, but the other elf didn't even budge. In fact, Galdor was now squeezing his throat!
Legolas was quickly losing air. He had also swallowed several mouthfuls of dirty water, which was about to make him sick. He squirmed desperately, but he just couldn't shake Galdor off his back.
Keldarion couldn't watch it anymore. He broke free from his father, yanked a lance out of a guard's hands, and ran towards the battling manyans, ignoring the cries of dismay from his father and the grey wizard.
Galdor paused when his senses picked up the coming intruder. He quickly turned to look behind him and saw the crown prince. Growling in frustration, the dark manyan rose and flung his arm, causing Keldarion to fly head over heels from the blast of the powerful wave. Even the watching elves behind him staggered several paces backward.
Coughing and spitting out mud, Legolas' face shot out of the puddle. He blinked, and instantly flew into a rage when he caught sight of his brother, writhing in agony at Galdor's feet.
TBC….
I know, I know. Terrible cliffie. But I did warn you, didn't I?