Legolas turned to the shadows. He could sense a slight change, a difference in the blackness. It was more menacing, its power more controlling and absolute. An intoxicating sense of power settled over him, and he writhed in the bonds. He was strong, and he could be strong again.
The power was flooding over him, calling him. It could be his, all of it. He trembled as it swirled around him, tempting him, deceiving him.
It could all be his.
He only had to accept it, to allow it into his body, into his soul. It would heal him and darken his resolve. He would be as cold as the stone but strong and unmovable as the sea.
He would be as durable as the rivers – never stopping, drowning all those that dare to enter the watery abyss. He would be as tall as the trees, all others bowing before his immense height, blocking out sunlight and casting shadows. He would be as strong as the Earth, immortal, never failing, never dying.
All others would bow at his feet. He would stand, fire ablaze in his eyes, for a fire burned within him that would never die.
Legolas would fear no one, for all the world would fear him. He would command terrible armies of all the creatures lurking in shadow.
And the other races – arrogant, foolish – would fall under his feet.
He had to take a step into shadow.
Legolas dropped his head, exhaustion weakening his body. His spirit blazed on, unstoppable.
Soon, he would be unstoppable. The darkness that had weakened him would strengthen him. He would see blood flowing from others, see them writhing and weakening.
To break a soul… So forbidden, so twisted but so beautiful. To see the slow drop from arrogance to weakness, from defiance to submission.
All would fear him, all would despair.
He would stand among his enemies, safe, as they lie dead at his feet, never reaching his own pedestal.
Finding strength in the shadows, he raised his head, accepting their help and grace. At once, the darkness entered him, twisting and changing within him, becoming power and making his body quiver with energy.
The cuffs holding him to the wall collapsed, and his arms were released. The tortured muscles mended as his arms dropped to his sides. He looked into the darkness, unafraid, thrumming with power.
Legolas took a step forward, feeling the darkness flooding into him. His eyes looked ahead, wary and attentive.
He chuckled, thinking of the others he had known.
They had raised him and changed him, trying to break him. They had laughed and yelled. They had fought and comforted.
They would die.
Legolas knew he would travel – unchallenged – into his old home, into his rooms. No doubt his father would attend to him, asking about him.
The fool would die.
Legolas had listened to his talks of being wary and to not care of anything outside his own kingdom.
Thranduil had been wrong.
Yes, caring about his own kingdom was important, but had he raised his eyes higher, then he would have seen the whole world as his kingdom and expanded their borders.
The spiders were coming?
Then kill them and claim their territory.
Elves would be lost, lives would be lost, in the battles.
But what were lives compared to power?
Legolas would destroy Mirkwood – but not all of it. It would become his stronghold, his strength. The spiders would flee, and the elves would be powerless to prevent him.
It would be easy to surprise them – they trusted Legolas. One would think that immortal beings would learn more wariness then that.
Demoralize the enemy from within by surprise, terror, sabotage, assassination. This is the war of the future.*
Legolas would train the young elves to follow after his ways. They would listen to him; they always had valued his opinions. All of the elves had, but he feared the older ones were too set in their ways for change to occur.
He alone, who owns the youth, gains the future.*
He would hate to kill immortal lives that held so much knowledge, but truth was truth, and they would not listen to reason.
It is always more difficult to fight against faith than against knowledge.*
Conquering the elves would be a great feat – he understood that. The immortal beings commanded – loathe as he was to admit it – great respect.
And he could fight only for something that he loved, love only what he respected, and respect only what he at least know.**
Most important was the fact that they did not forget.
However, with that was their folly. They forgave too much in too little time.
And they were peaceful creatures.
The very first essential for success is a perpetually constant and regular employment of violence.*
Conquering men would take little time after the elves were controlled. Men had always laid before elves on their knees. Not only were their lives only a single heartbeat of any elves', they also were weaker and too quick to give in.
Internal struggles tore at them, and that would make them fall easier and harder.
What luck for rulers that men do not think.*
Legolas would then have conquered most of Middle Earth. Who would defeat him then? The dwarves?
No, it was ludicrous to believe that dwarves – twelve of which had thought they could defeat a dragon alone! – were smart enough to defeat anything, let alone the rest of Middle Earth.
And who else could stand against him? The Half-lings?
That was even less believable than the dwarves! Legolas chuckled as he walked – unafraid – into the darkness.
The shadows led him to steep stone stairs. He could see the glint of dried blood on them – mayhap his own from when he knew not of true power and believed in the good of living beings.
He climbed up the steps, feeling no twinge of pain. His back was healing – the shadows pulling and mending skin, but he felt nothing.
Legolas was too intoxicated on his new power to feel much of anything.
He could raise a hand, he knew, and collapse the walls of his prison – nay, his home.
He could reach out, and those defying him would fall to the ground in agony.
He could take everything, for everything was his, and he was strong.
The shadows would plea to his bidding; they would come forth to his aid.
Let it be known that Legolas Greenleaf would never be defeated.
12312312312312312312312312312312312312312312312312312312312312312312312312313231231
Tauriel turned to the dwarves.
"I fear the cry was my companion's," she said, urgency speeding her words. "I fear we are too late. We must have haste."
"Of course," Kili agreed. "We will rescue him, Tauriel."
"How do you know, Kili?" she asked, sadness, overwhelming sadness, flooding through her.
"I know because I hold his weapons in my hands that he is a warrior. Warriors do not betray their people nor their friends. He will not leave you, Tauriel."
"I fear the enemy has hold upon him. Too late was the dawn from a night centuries ago. He has not the strength for this."
"Do not dishonor him!" Kili exclaimed. "He is strong; I saw him fight. To believe otherwise is great folly."
"I – ," Tauriel began, only to pause and rethink her words. "You are correct, master dwarf. I thank you. My fear had gotten the better of me."
"As has it every one of us. Do not belittle yourself for a moment of weakness, my lady."
Tauriel nodded, then motioned them to dismount.
"I dare not take the horses further than this. They will be spotted. Tie them to trees here; we will return for them."
The other dwarves muttered agreement, dismounting and tying the reins efficiently.
Tauriel motioned them forward.
The walk to Dol Guldur was frighteningly bare. No trees nor structures would hide their assault.
"My lady?" Fili protested. "Is this the only entrance?"
"Yes," Tauriel answered, her voice short with anticipation and fear.
"Then run swiftly, my companions, and ready your weapons, for I see no way the enemy would not notice our presence." Fili turned to the other dwarves as he said that.
"T'is suicide," one protested, his voice high with fear and dismay.
"As is fighting a dragon," Kili said. "But you had the courage for that task. We prepare to run for Dol Guldur. My lady, at your word."
Tauriel looked forward, seeing the bare stone. In her mind, she could see the blood of the Necromancer's victims dotting the gray expanse. Ai, Legolas' blood was among them.
There was but a second they could afford to lose.
"On my word," Tauriel said, her voice becoming hoarse. "Go!"
She leapt out, hearing the dwarves do the same. Bow in hand, she rode forward, eyes intent on the enemy. She planned to duck behind one of the arches – should they make it that far without being noticed.
Tauriel was hardly a quarter of the way there. The dwarves were lagging behind her. For all their courage and all their might, dwarves could not run as quickly as some for the sheer reason of shorter legs.
Tauriel reached the few stone steps with ease, climbing them quickly. Behind her, she heard the dwarves leaping up them. They were nearly there, and no alarm had been sounded.
It seemed almost unbelievable.
They reached the back of the archway, and Tauriel ducked behind it. The dwarves – about ten paces behind her – were soon there as well.
Tauriel looked at them with relief. They seemed surprised and knew to stay silent.
"Come," Tauriel breathed. It was time to continue on to rescue Legolas.
"My lady, I fear this is a trap," Kili whispered.
"It is, most likely," Tauriel agreed. "But I must go on."
"Then we will as well," Kili promised.
Tauriel swallowed, looking at the stout-hearted dwarves.
She feared she was leading them all to their deaths.
And for the first time, she wondered if Legolas' life was worth the deaths.
12312312312312312312312312312312312312312312312312312312312312312312312312312312312
Hey, guys! How do you like the story? I liked Legolas' thoughts, but Tauriel's section didn't seem the best to me.
The * in Legolas' section say that the preceding lines are quotes from Adolf Hitler. The ** is a quote I altered from first person to third and from present to past tense.
So, I'm finding that the more I write LotR and The Hobbit character's dialogue, the more I begin to sound like that as well. My friends laughed at me today for starting a quip with "Far be it for me to…"
I have also seemingly forgotten what contractions are but no worries! There are worse problems than talking as an elf would.
Please review!
Thanks to all readers.
Dislclaimer: I don't own LotR or the Hobbit.