A/N: Some may notice a similarity between this first part and a certain scene from canon. Will it end the same? Read on and see...

LOTRLOTRLOTR

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Separate Destinations

Gandalf rode as fast as he could, his horse panting and sweating beneath him. But his mount did not slow, sensing his master's urgency. There was no time to waste. Ever since Iãgaw had awoken, the Wizard had been heading to Isengard. Saruman needed to be told about the Void, and the Istari had to think of a plan to defend against this unexpected threat.

The Grey Wizard felt slightly betrayed. Why had the Valar not informed him that the Great Darkness to be defeated might not be Sauron? Instead of a Dark Lord, Middle-earth was facing a demon borne from Darkness, bent on obliterating and destroying all in his path.

Iãgaw. Gandalf had never even heard of that name before the Void had invaded his mind and destroyed Narya. How could information and knowledge of such a threat be kept from him? Why had he not been told? The Wizard knew nothing about Iãgaw. He did not know the demon's powers, he did not know how to protect Middle-earth from him, and he most certainly had no idea how to stop him!

How could the Valar have left him and the Free People in the dark? Ignorance was dangerous, and now it could get them all killed.

Gandalf rode between towering trees, spotting the tower of Isengard standing proudly in the distance. He murmured softly to his horse, telling him to run just a little longer. The creature huffed and continued galloping full-out. Soon enough the black tower was in front of them, the horse halting in the path in front of the stairs leading to the door.

The Wizard slid from his back, softly thanking his mount for his hard work. The horse nudged the Istar with his soft nose, wandering off to drink from a nearby pool. Gandalf did not worry about tethering his horse. The creature would return when needed, he was as loyal as they came.

Black doors opened and Gandalf looked up, smiling in relief as Saruman appeared in the doorway.

"Saruman." he greeted.

"Gandalf the Grey." the White Wizard replied. "It has been a long time."

"As much as I wish that I were here for a friendly visit, I am afraid that something has happened." the Grey Wizard said gravely.

Saruman's visage darkened. "I am aware. Come, we have much to discuss."

Gandalf followed his leader into the tower, the doors swinging shut behind him. Saruman walked into another room, sitting in a throne-like chair and clasping his hands before him. The Grey Wizard paced in front of the White, staff tapping the ground as he walked.

"A demon known as the Void has come to Middle-earth, and I fear that he is a greater threat than Sauron could ever be. I do not know his powers but I do know his goal: to completely destroy Arda, Valinor, and everything else in this world. We need to come up with a plan of attack and defense, otherwise Iãgaw will decimate the realms at his pleasure."

"He already has," Saruman said calmly. "Imladris, Lothlorien, and Lindon have all fallen to ruin."

Gandalf stiffened, whirling around to stare at his leader with a horrified expression. "That cannot be! How could the servants of Darkness reach the realms so quickly?"

"One of the Void's powers is the ability to travel and send others through shadows to a new destination anywhere in the world." Saruman explained. "Nowhere is safe and anywhere can be attacked at any time. There is no escaping the Void."

The Grey Wizard paused, his face turned away from the White Istar and mulled over his leader's words. "How is it that you know so much about this threat? Did the Valar tell you about Iãgaw?" he asked, feeling slightly hurt but understanding if the Valar only told the White Wizard about the Void.

"Oh no." Saruman said. "The Valar did not tell me anything. I... found out on my own."

A shadow crossed his face, and for a moment he looked older and more gaunt, something dark in his expression. But when Gandalf blinked the shadow vanished, and the Grey Wizard dismissed the sight as his tired mind playing tricks on him.

"You did? How?" he asked. "What else do you know? How can we defend against him?"

The White Wizard chuckled, the sound loud and echoing in the large tower. "I know that Iãgaw can drain the energy, Light, and life from any creature near him. I know that he can manipulate shadows and turn them into weapons. I know that he can use telepathy to communicate with his forces. And I know... that we have no chance against him. There is no defense against the Void, and it is impossible to stop him."

Gandalf's shoulders stiffened slightly and his hand clenched tightly around his staff. He turned slowly to look at his leader, who sat calm and serene on his throne. The sense that something was terribly wrong hit the Grey Wizard then, and he tensed in preparation of an attack.

"There is always a chance for triumph as long as people are willing to fight." he told the White Wizard harshly. "It is unlike you to give up so easily, Saruman."

"'Give up'?" the white-robed Istar asked, dark eyes on Gandalf's face. "I did not 'give up', Gandalf. I found out the truth."

"What truth?" the Wizard asked cautiously.

Saruman spoke in his powerful, charismatic voice, sure in his conviction. "That Iãgaw will conquer this world, and the only way to ensure our survival... is to join him."

Darkness rippled around him, echoes of power in his voice, and it was like a curtain had fallen away... to reveal nothing but darkest night. It was easy to recognize the presence of Dark magic around the Istar, laying over him like a oily, dripping cloak. Saruman's robes remained white but his magic was pitch black, permeating the air around him.

Gandalf paled, and stepped away from his 'leader'. "What have you done, Saruman?"

"I was a fool who sought power," the White Wizard explained, his voice distant. "I sought power, and I found it, but it overwhelmed me. I was changed Gandalf. I no longer seek power, I only seek a way to ensure my own survival. For nothing can survive the Void without his permission. I no longer want for power. I found it, I have it, and now my only desire is to ensure the continuation of my existence so I may use the power I have gained. To do this I will work for Iãgaw, help him with his goals... and he will reward me."

"That is your decision?" Gandalf asked, disgusted. "You choose to submit and serve rather than find a way to fight? Iãgaw will destroy you, Saruman! Nothing will prevent him from killing you once you have served your purpose to him!"

"That is why I will do something that will ensure that I am spared." Saruman hissed, eyes gleaming with a not-quite sane light. "You could help me, Gandalf. Together, we are sure to succeed. The Void will destroy you, he will destroy everything in this world, but if you swear to him and help me, we will not join this world in its destruction!"

His eyes were intent and his voice cajoling and smooth, like he truly cared for Gandalf and believed this would make him safe, but the Darkness in the White Wizard's eyes neutralized any magic the Istar's powerful voice may have put over Gandalf, leaving his mind strong and his decision clear.

"I do not know what you are planning, Saruman," The Grey Wizard snarled, staring at his former leader with open disappointment and disgust. "But I want no part in it!"

"Then you are of no use to me." The White Wizard stated.

His staff rose but Gandalf, already on alert, was ready.

He swung his staff at Saruman, shouting an offensive spell. The White Wizard was knocked back, hitting the tower wall hard. He recovered and shouted a spell. Gandalf dodged, leaping sideways as a pulse of magic was shot at him. The force was enough to leave a jagged crack in the stone behind him, small pieces of the black rock hitting the floor.

The Grey Wizard quickly responded with a beam of white light capable of piercing an enemy like a sword. The spell crashed against the shield Saruman conjured like water colliding with a cliff. It dissipated, leaving the White Wizard unharmed.

The traitor jabbed his staff forward, shouting a curse in a Dark tongue, and Gandalf's eyes widened as yellow-green lightning ripped through the air towards him. He threw up a shield, the powerful blast striking the white light that protected him.

He could see the lightning weakening the shield, lines that could only be described as cracks began to snake through the light. With a hollow crunch the shield shattered, falling down around Gandalf. The abrupt failure of the spell made the Istar fall to his knees, gasping.

Saruman smiled condescendingly at the panting Grey Wizard. "You are weak, Gandalf. You know nothing of true power. By following the path the Valar chose for you, you have brought about your own—"

Gandalf's staff slashed sideways like a striking sword. Saruman was lifted into the air, pulses of light wrapping around him like ropes. Keeping his staff pointed at the traitorous Istar, the Grey Wizard stood, speaking loudly and clearly in the magical language of his kind. The light-ropes tightened around the White Wizard, keeping him from moving, and steadily grew thicker. The spaces between the ropes grew smaller, slowly covering and containing the Istar.

Saruman gave a muffled shout as the light encased him, blazing brightly. The light flashed, bright enough to blind, and when it cleared there was only a cylinder-shaped structure that appeared to be made of white, glowing stone.

Gandalf breathed out slowly, lowering his staff and staring at the spell that contained Saruman with pitying eyes. The White Wizard would be unable to break free, unconscious of the world around him while trapped within that imprisoning curse. Once this war was done, he would be taken to trial for what he had done, and tried to do. The Istar shook his head, turning away from Saruman's prison. He needed to be elsewhere, to assist this world in its stand against the Void.

He had barely taken a step when the world around him shuddered. On instinct, Gandalf threw up another shield. Dark energy burst out from Saruman's prison, the light containing him blown apart as easily as if it had been made of paper. The remaining tiny whisps of light quickly flickered and vanished as the White Wizard stepped towards Gandalf, proud and cold.

"Like I told you, you are weak. You stand no chance against me. The Void has given me power beyond your comprehension!"

More yellow-green lightning shot at Gandalf, who— rather than standing solidly and blocking— redirected the lightning by batting it away. It was difficult, and each contact with the Dark magic sent shivers up the Wizard's spine, but he managed to deflect them all. His training and teaching of Radagast many years ago had helped him as well, the Grey Wizard stronger than he would have been if the Brown Wizard had not been determined to learn new spells.

Gandalf too had discovered new ways to wield his magic during those lessons with Radagast, spells, he hoped, that Saruman was not aware that he knew. The Grey Wizard began to mutter under his breath

as he defended and dodged, redirected and leapt, careful to keep moving in order to prevent one of the deadly spells from hitting him. Saruman watched him with a mixture of amusement and annoyance.

"Do not delay the inevitable, Gandalf. You cannot defeat me!"

Gandalf ignored his former leader, still whispering, focusing on staying alive and gathering his power for the spell. He could feel the magic building within his staff, the top glowing brighter and brighter as power surged into it. Saruman noticed this but did not try to stop him, confident in his own Dark Magic. Hidden behind his beard, Gandalf almost smiled. The final word passed his lips in a shout.

Light surged from his staff, and the powerful spell the Grey Wizard had uncovered while searching for ones to teach Radagast hit the White Wizard in the chest. He flew backwards, slamming into the wall with incredible force. He was held feet above the ground like an invisible force was holding him, as the spell rippled over him like lighting in water. As Gandalf watched it shocked and blacked out his senses, forcing the White Wizard's consciousness to flee. Saruman went limp, falling to the ground in a crumpled heap.

However, the Grey Wizard knew that he would not be incapacitated for long. He was also unnervingly aware that Saruman was a lot more powerful than he let on, and in his tired state Gandalf was no match for him. Yet Gandalf could not bring himself to strike Saruman down.

Hoping he would not regret his decision to leave the other later, the Grey Wizard ran out the front of Isengard, whistling for his horse. The loyal creature returned to him, not as rested as he could be but with enough strength to bear him away. Gandalf mounted on his back and whispered urgently into the horse's ear.

"Bear me away from here as quickly as you can. Once we are out of Isengard's sight, you may slow. Make haste, my friend!"

The horse huffed and began to gallop, racing down the path that led away from Isengard. Gandalf leaned low over his running horse's neck, eyes narrowed against the wind even as sadness and grief tore at his heart. Saruman's betrayal had been shocking, but the more Gandalf mulled over what happened, the more he realized that a part of him had expected it.

Saruman had always been power-hungry, wishing to rule over the People of Middle-earth rather than guide them. He also had more pride than the sea had water. Gandalf had always thought that Saruman had been content with the power he wielded, and had remained true to the Istari's mission. It had certainly seemed that way.

But the White Wizard had always been secretive and manipulative, playing with those around him and gaining their trust, before using them for his own ends. Gandalf had most certainly been manipulated and played for a fool. How had he not seen Saruman's true nature, or sensed the Dark magic he now possessed?

Guilty, angry, and grief-stricken Gandalf closed his eyes, trusting his mount to know the way. He had to get to Mirkwood. It had not been destroyed with the other elven realms for some reason, and he had to make sure at least one of the homes of the Firstborn was safe. And if it was not, then he had to defend it as best he could.

He did not know if he had the power to stop the Darkness anymore.

LOTRLOTRLOTR

Back in Isengard, Saruman's eyes snapped open. The White Wizard sat up, chest aching where Gandalf's last spell had struck him. He had never seen such a spell before, and cursed the Grey Wizard for learning such magic without his permission.

The Istar got to his feet, walking deeper into his tower. Gandalf would regret not joining him when he could. He would die with everything else in this world, picked apart and obliterated by the Void. Although Iãgaw would be content to sadistically play with the Free People for a little while, Saruman knew that the Void would eventually rip the world to shreds and destroy it with his crushing Darkness.

Saruman had no intention of joining Middle-earth in its destruction. The demon had no intention of even sparing his servants. The Witch-King might or might not be aware that victory for the Void meant the end of his existence, but the White Wizard was painfully aware of that fact. There was only one thing that might convince Iãgaw to spare him. And that was to reveal what was hidden from the Void's sight.

Radagast had not been as discrete as he thought he had been. The fool. Saruman may not have known about the Void before seeing him within the Witch-King's mind, but the Istar had recognized the setting of the dormant Sanctuary magic within Mirkwood. He had been unaware of what the Sanctuary was destined to defend against until Iãgaw had risen.

However, he was clearly aware of its purpose now. The Sanctuary in Mirkwood was an ingenious piece of magic, he had to admit... but even it would fall to the Void. Saruman wondered if Radagast knew that the death of one of the Royal Family members was all that it took to shatter the magic shielding the Woodland Realm. A single death was all it took to destroy the most powerful Sanctuary the Valar could conjure up.

It would happen eventually, whether the Royal Family members remained within Mirkwood or not. One of them would die. All Saruman had to do was speed the process along a little, and reveal his loyalty to the Void by revealing the one place that may have been safe from the demon.

The White Wizard knew that the Sanctuary would fall, so he did not attempt to hide within it to protect himself. Why climb out of a stormy ocean into a sinking ship? No, the Istar would not try to gain entrance into the Sanctuary. He was on the unstoppable Darkness' side, and was too far gone to regret his decisions now.

Up in his chambers, Saruman picked up a magical item, activating it with a murmured spell. Similar to the one that allowed him to see through Shadowed Elves' eyes, this spell was a variation of his own creation. Its purpose was not to see, but to communicate with his servants. Servants that were of the Race of Men. Although Saruman was slightly annoyed and disgusted with the short-lived, greedy mortals, they served their purpose well.

The elves did not trust him, nor the dwarves. By extension, the hobbits had been out of his reach ever since the Shire burned. But men had remained easy to approach, and even easier to manipulate. He had spies in many places, allowing his sight and knowledge to spread far.

More importantly, these men were not connected to the Void, and would more likely avoid detection until the time was right. It would not be enough to simply kill one of the Royals and let the Sanctuary fall. Saruman had to show Iãgaw the Royal, and tell him what had been hidden from his sight.

The object in the White Wizard's hand glowed, and a voice spoke out from it as clearly as if his servant stood beside him. "My lord."

"Are you prepared?" Saruman asked commandingly. He had contacted his spies the moment Iãgaw had awoken, putting his plan into motion as quickly as he could. There was no time to waste.

"Yes, my Lord." this servant said calmly. "We are almost there."

Saruman smiled. The servants he had chosen were efficient and dedicated. He estimated they would have succeeded before the dawn of a new day. "Good. You know your mission. Do not fail me."

"We will not fail, my Lord." the one on the other end replied without hesitance. "It will be done."

LOTRLOTRLOTR

Getting the three children of Thranduil out of the Palace was going to be easy. Even with the extra guards, and the three elves with him, Legolas still decided it would be simple to help Bereneth, Fael, and Megilag escape.

All thoughts and emotions dealing with his own problems and fears had been shut away for the moment, left to be dealt with later. The Royals needed him at his best right now, to help them begin their quest, and he had to be free of turbulent emotions and distractions. He would be able to remain calculating, calm, and patient for a while longer, but Legoals knew that dam would break eventually. So unless the Royals wanted to see him break down or go into full-assassin mode to keep control of his roiling emotions, they had to move quickly.

The three had gone to get rations and returned to the Hall of Healing, claiming that the provisions were for Esgal, who would be leaving soon. Cook may or may not have believed them but she did not ask any questions, packing the lembas and provisions without comment. The Royals returned, with Bereneth glowering at every guard along the way, but because they were heading to visit the assassin no one stopped them.

The guards would do well to be more suspicious and wary. Though Legolas supposed that it was not negligence that kept them from keeping a more alert eye on the Royal Family. The guards did not know why the Council's Right had been invoked, and were undoubtedly wondering why the Council and advisers had felt a need to enact the Right. The Royals seemed perfectly calm in their eyes, and did not seem to be intending to run off any time soon.

That was a shame for them, but good for Legolas. Nestor the healer had come in and looked him over already, so they were being left alone. The violet-eyed elf surveyed the three elves in front of him, as serious as if they were trying to escape an enemy realm. Technically, the guards and council could be seen as "enemies" in this instance, for they were trying to stop the four from reaching their goal.

"Are you prepared to leave?" he asked the three. They nodded. "Good. Follow me closely, and act as if we are in enemy territory. The guards are not your friends or subordinates right now, and if they catch us they will try to stop us from leaving. If a couple do spot us, let me handle it, all right?"

Fael and Megilag agreed readily enough, but Bereneth hesitated.

"You're not going to kill them, are you?" she asked.

Legolas let his expression go blank as he stared at her. "Do you honestly think so little of me?" His voice revealed none of the hurt he felt at her statement.

Bereneth only grunted in response, the mistrust and hostility in her eyes answering his question. Apparently pretending to be nice and friendly for more than a few minutes was beyond her capabilities. The distant frustration at not being able to regain a useful memory simmered beneath Legolas's skin, and while he normally would have been able to throw off the Princess's attitude without a care, now he had to resist the urge to punch her in her condescending and sneering face. Why had he agreed to help again?

Legolas kept control over himself turning sharply away from Bereneth. "Follow me." he said without visibly reacting to the Princess's scorn.

He leapt out the window, walking carefully along a thin ledge a few feet below. He walked along it to the right of the window, then dropped into a tree that stood near the palace wall The leaves did not even rustle as he landed. The other elves followed easily enough, standing on the branches beside him.

The assassin studied the path ahead. There were less guards outside than inside the palace, the councilors not expecting the Royals to leap out of windows to escape. The more he thought about the councilors, the more Legolas decided that they were all incompetent idiots. Although their foolishness was beneficial now, the assassin hoped it would not cause people to be hurt in the future.

There were guards near the palace wall, and more out the bridge that they believed was the only easy way out of the stronghold that was the Elvenking's home. Little did they— and many others— know that there was a tunnel on the western side of the palace, hidden down by the river that flowed beneath it.

There was no path leading to the site, only a series of seemingly-random placed rocks that made for an easy climb down near the water. The only reason Legolas had found the hidden tunnel was because he had been exploring the river on a whim, thinking about Bilbo's tale of how the dwarves escaped the Elvenking's home. The tunnel was further upstream than where the dwarves had fallen into the river.

That meant it was around the corner to where the assassin and the Royals were now. Legolas studied what stood between them and the spot, unable to fully see what lay around the bend. There were a series of trees close to the wall, and the angle of the sun caused lengthening shadows to stretch across the path they needed to travel. The only objects of concern were the patrolling guards.

There were six in Legolas's line of sight, in groups of two. If one spotted the Royals he would knock the pair out, but they were too close for the other elves not to notice. The violet-eyed elf would rather not have them all be chased down the climbing path to the tunnel. It was safe, but not safe enough that they could afford to descend in haste.

Analysis done, the assassin again commanded. "Follow me."

They did, as silent as he hoped, staying in the foliage and shadows. Legolas noted with approval that all three had dimmed their glows as much as they could. The trees shielding them discreetly covered the three glowing elves with their branches as well, aiding in the escape without being asked. Still, a wary guard might spot them. The glowless elf stayed closest to the guards, half-listening to the soft, distant rush of water that was the river.

They had rounded the corner and were heading towards the river's edge when Fael stepped on a twig. The snap was loud and the two nearest guards rose their weapons, peering through the trees in their direction.

"Who is there?" one guard, who Legolas recognized as Heled, called out.

Legolas placed a hand on Fael's shoulder, gesturing that he and his siblings should keep moving. They did, while the assassin stepped out of the shadows. Heled relaxed the moment he spotted the assassin, sword lowering.

"Esgal," he said with a smile, waving a hand at his partner to make him stand down. "I'm surprised that I heard you."

Legolas smiled back at him. Hidden beneath his loose cloak and clothes, his muscles were tense. He was ready to attack if the elves needed to be silenced. A pressure point on the neck will knock him out instantly. Should his partner be quick enough to react, he will attack will be a downward left-diagonal slash. A dodge and a light blow to the throat will take him out. "I've just... been released from the Hall of Healing." he admitted.

The warrior chuckled knowingly. "Escaping from Nestor, are you?"

Legolas could sense the Royals approaching the river. Soon they would be hidden beneath the bridge. "Yes." he admitted, with just a hint of embarrassment. "I find healers to be... overbearing."

Heled laughed again. "Don't we all? Continue with your escape. I won't interfere."

The Royals were beneath the bridge. Still tense, still ready, the assassin nodded in appreciation. "Thank you, Heled. I'll be on my way then."

He vanished into the shadows, the guards losing sight of him instantly, and made his way to the others with practiced grace. He appeared in front of them, Megilag stifling a shocked gasp. Noting Bereneth's eyes on him, Legolas turned and openly glowered at the Princess, violet eyes cold.

"See, Princess? I am capable of solving problems without violence or death," he said pleasantly, knowing she had been watching the exchange.

Bereneth twitched, then huffed. "Just show us where the tunnel is."

It was a good thing Legolas had learned to ignore her scorn long ago. Hidden in the shadows beneath the bridge, he climbed down over the edge, hands and feet finding the familiar climbing stones. He made his way down, the Royals climbing more cautiously above him. Soon enough his feet reached the small stone platform that was hidden at the edge of the river.

The water rushed by, droplets spraying the assassin. He stepped into the dark, dusty stone tunnel that could not be seen from above, waiting for the others to join him. They did, entering the tunnel and looking around with startled expressions.

"I never knew this was down here." Fael whispered, wary of his voice reaching the world above. "How did you find this place?"

"I was exploring out of interest." Legolas told him. "I believe that this may be a tunnel intended for the Royal Family to escape through in case of a siege. I'm sure that the Elvenking knows about it, though I do not know why he would not inform you about its location."

"Well, it is certainly serving its purpose today," Megilag said. He stepped into the tunnel, letting his glow out. It lit up the dark space slightly. "You would not happen to have a torch, would you?"

Bereneth reached into her bag, bringing out it and some flint. "Here." She lit the torch and handed it to her older brother.

The Prince gave it to Legolas. "You know the way."

The assassin nodded and began to walk, setting a brisk pace. He was decidedly neutral about being beneath the ground, but knew his Royal companions might not be as calm away from the sky and stars. It was best to get through the tunnel as quickly as possible.

"How far does this go?" Fael questioned, green eyes gleaming in the partial darkness.

"Almost to the edge of the wood." the violet-eyed elf said. "It heads West, so I am afraid that you will have to circle around to the south in order to reach your destination."

"Personally I am glad that it does not head South." Megilag muttered. "It would be rather counterproductive if fleeing elves were heading towards the most likely source of their reason to flee."

"Yet that is where we are headed," Bereneth said without an ounce of fear.

Legolas had to respect her determination and unwavering belief in the Royals' mission. As he walked, he debated silently debated with himself about his next move. His emotions were still in turmoil deep within him, not yet having been dealt with, and his need for solitude to organize his thoughts was like a painful ache.

Then he would think about the Royals' mission and what it entailed. He knew he had no right to think this... but should he try to go with them? He had said he would help them escape the Palace, no more, and Bereneth's obviously did not think he was needed any further. Legolas knew that, for once, it was not just her disliking of him that made her say that.

They were searching for their youngest brother, the Lost Prince, who may or may not be called "Tithenlas". Did he, an assassin, and someone who had only met them less than sixty years ago, have any right to ask to be a part in the quest to reunite the Royal Family of Mirkwood?

It was their quest. It was their right to go alone. Yet Legolas felt conflicted about simply letting them travel to Minas Morgul by themselves. They were three powerful warriors, protected by a secret magic he did not know or understand, but would that be enough? It was not like him joining them would make that much of a difference, four instead of three.

But it could. Because he knew about Darkness. He had grown up in it. He had grown under the power of the Witch-King... That thought was what made the assassin hesitate the most. Did he want to join the quest to help find the lost Prince, or to get a chance to kill the one who had tried to enslave him and whom he hated with a passion?

Sunlight appeared in front of them, the long tunnel coming to an end. Legolas stepped out beneath the wide-open trees of one of the towering shadowed trees near the edge of the realm. The Royals filed out behind him, eyes adjusting quickly to the bright light. Up ahead, the assassin could see what appeared to be a thick wall of wood. Closer inspection revealed that the wall was living interwoven tree limbs. It looked to be at least fifty yards thick, going off as far left and right as the elves could see.

The violet-eyed elf tipped his head to the side, looking at the odd structure barring their path thoughtfully. So this is part of what the Awakening Chant did.

He could sense the new calmness and clarity the shadowed trees possessed. The magic of the sanctuary flowed through them, leaving them not Dark, but not exactly Light either. They were still shadowed, but it was a different kind of Shadow. An almost natural kind, like a warm cloak of cotton rather than one made of chilling ice.

"Will they let us pass?" Megilag asked, almost to himself.

As if in response to his words, the limbs blocking their path split apart like a parting sea, unwinding and revealing the world outside. The three Royals flinched at the movement while Legolas merely blinked.

Megilag cleared his throat nervously, looking uncomfortably up at the trees that had— until yesterday— had been the enemies of all glowing elves. "Er. Thank you?"

You're welcome, the trees whispered in their still-harsh but amused voices.

The Royals twitched again, and the assassin could only guess what they were thinking at the moment. Legolas smiled internally. Even with magic making them sane, the shadowed trees were still foreboding and strange. To those that did not know them, at least.

Bereneth, Fael, and Megilag did not move, still staring down the cleared path. The assassin beside them did not know whether they were wary of leaving home or if they were afraid the trees would try to kill them once they moved in range.

"They will not attack you," the violet-eyed elf said irritably after an extended period. "They are on your—" Presences entered his awareness. "Oh no..." he breathed, and shot forward.

He raced through the open path in Mirkwood's physical defenses, the Royals running after him. His urgency overcame their trepidation. The moment they stepped outside of the forest, the wall of woven wood returned, sealing the way shut. The four elves all spotted figures heading towards them, still far-off but close enough for their elven eyes to see.

Nine men were running and stumbling in their direction, two supporting and dragging a potentially-wounded man along. Behind them, like a storm cloud overcoming the sky, were orcs. Ten, twenty, fifty of the creatures chased the fleeing men. As the elves watched a couple of the men shot down a few with arrows as they ran.

So they at least had a few weapons. Good. Legolas glanced at his companions, Fael drawing his bow while Bereneth and Megilag unsheathed their swords. The assassin smiled slightly, both slightly excited and grim. The orcs would not stand a chance. Without an order or word passing between them, the elves ran at the men, the mortals expressions changing from terror to astonishment.

"If you have weapons, prepare to fight." Megilag told them calmly in Westron.

"Are you mad?" one man said in disbelief. "There are too many of them!"

The Prince smiled, and his eyes were cold as he looked at the creatures that had taken his brother away so long ago. "No there are not."

And the elves attacked. Fael shot down three orcs in the span of a few seconds, Legolas taking down four more with his own bow. The two men that still had arrows in their quivers stood their ground beside the elves, shooting two each. The orcs slowed and hesitated when they saw the elves, allowing the four archers to kill six more of them as they stood still in indecision. Then, they continued their charge, and Fael and Legolas put away their bows, unsheathing their sword and daggers respectively.

The first orcs came upon them. Legolas slashed one with twin downward strikes, stabbed another in its throat, turned and plunged his blades through armor and into a third's heart. Beside him, he sensed it as Bereneth beheaded one and cut off another's arm before killing it. Fael's horizontal slash bisected his first enemy, a twisting right sweep cutting an orc deep across its back.

Megilag attacked with quick, rapid thrusts, more prone to stabbing then slashing. His thinner sword was better suited for this style of fighting. One, two, three rapid stabs brought down an orc, a quick thrust through a second enemy's spine making it collapse to the ground.

The men also fought. Legolas noted that while a few had swords, most battled with hunting knives and other weapons meant for hunting game. He had a feeling he knew what these men were doing before the orcs found them.

The assassin swayed out of the way of a stab, grabbing the orc's arm and pressing a point with long fingers to make him release his sword, at the same time stabbing him in the chest with his other blade. He pulled the dagger free and stepped back, turning, sheathing his knives, and throwing a few throwing daggers at some of the more distant orcs. Each small knife hit an orcs' throat or face, downing them instantly.

Ten orcs were left, and they quickly realized that they were now outnumbered. They tried to flee, but the elves and men swarmed on them, taking them out without mercy. A single orc was quickly distancing himself from the elves and men. In a single, fluid movement, the assassin put an arrow to his bow, sighted, and fired. The orc fell without a sound, the shaft in his back.

The silence after the battle was deafening, excess energy rushing through all's veins as they waited for the next attack. The others gripped their sword and weapons, but the violet-eyed elf calmly sheathed his, stance relaxed and peaceful. Noticing this, the other elves let their tense muscles relax as well, sheathing their own weapons.

"There are no more enemies nearby," Megilag informed the still-nervous men.

They looked at him in confusion for a moment before they too sheathed their blades. The man who had asked Megilag if he was mad stepped forward, bowing formally.

"Thank you for helping us." he said. "I am Jodac. My friends and I were out hunting when the orcs attacked us."

He looked worriedly at the man who had been supported by two others. He was standing on his own two feet and had fought alongside the others, but his face was now ashen and he looked ready to collapse.

"Elisedd was struck by an orc's sword, a glancing blow to the leg. I fear that he needs medical attention." Jodac continued, urgency in his tone.

Fael, Megilag, and Bereneth looked concerned, but Legolas could also see conflict ion in their eyes. The closest place to get care for a sword wound would be the Elvenking's Palace. The men would never be able to find it on their own. They needed a guide, and the three Royals were on a quest that could not be delayed. If they went back, then the councilors would stop them from leaving again. As it was, the Council probably did not even know that they were gone yet.

The assassin knew what he had to do.

"(I will take them to Nestor.)" he told the three Royals in Sindarin. They looked at him, startled. He smiled at the them all, even Bereneth. "(You must continue with your mission.)" he continued in Sindarin. "(Find your brother, all right?)"

The three Royals nodded, relief just showing. "(Le hannon, Esgal.)" Fael said softly. He turned to the men and spoke in Westron. "Esgal will take you to a healer, at the Elvenking's Palace. We wish that we could accompany you, but we are on an important mission and cannot be delayed."

"We understand," Jodac said, relieved that one of them would help them.

The wall that physically guarded Mirkwood split apart at Megilag's command. The trees did not hesitate in letting the men in. The second Prince vouched for them, and Daelas led them, so they must not mean harm. Legolas went to lead the men into the forest, but paused when he saw Bereneth staring at him with an odd expression on her face.

He quirked an eyebrow at her. "(Is there something you need?)" he asked, still in Sindarin.

She opened her mouth, closed it, then glared at him once more. Then she turned on her heel, walking quickly away. Megilag and Fael murmured hasty goodbyes and thanks before following their sister. Legolas sighed and shook his head, then turned to the men. Silently, he gestured for them to follow him, and together they walked into the forest. The tree limbs wove together behind them, and Mirkwood was once again cut off from the outside world.

LOTRLOTRLOTR

Translations:

Le hannon: Thank you.

(In the bottom section, stuff italicized and in parenthesis represents them speaking in Sindarin.)

A/N: I don't do full conversations in Sindarin. I know a lot of authors put the translations at the bottom or beside the words in parenthesis, but I'm not confident enough with my Sindarin to do more than the occasional word in it.

I hope Saruman wasn't too OOC. His search for power led him to Iãgaw, and Iãgaw would not let Saruman try to manipulate him for his own ends. I won't go into detail now, but Iãgaw pretty much put his foot down forcefully, and something in Saruman shattered. Now, rather than seeking power, he seeks a way to ensure his own survival. It's kinda sad.

On a lighter note, I kept imagining Gandalf shouting "Expelliarmus!" "Protego!" and "Stupefy!" during the battle. XD

In the scene with Legolas and the Royals' escape, I felt like I was playing one of those video games where you have to avoid the pacing people. I hate those games. I always get caught! :( I didn't want to make a huge fight/dramatic chase-scene escape with the Royals & Legolas because 1) the elves are their allies and I wanted to avoid a confrontation with them, 2) a dramatic escape scene is not Esgal's style when it can be avoided and 3) the entire point of having Legolas help the Royals was for them to avoid detection. I also wanted to show that Legolas can do something without violence. Yes, he was planning how to attack and knock out the guards but he didn't do it. He acknowledges the elves as friends, even in that instance, and was reluctant to harm them in any way. I hope the action scene at the end made up for the lack of action in the escape. :P

Thank you to everyone who reviewed, followed, and favorited! And a special thank you to L.J. Gryphon for helping me with some plot points and information again! :D

Responses to Guest reviews:

To "guest 23": Thank you! About two chapters.

To "guest 2000": Thanks!

To "Starrising": Thank you! Bilbo knows Legolas's past and name, but he does not know that Legolas grew up in Dol Guldur. Esgal kept the facts vague and kept most names out of it to protect Bilbo. No one else knows the full story of Legolas's past. They only know bits and pieces, like how he was raised by an assassin someplace Dark.

To "Anony-Mouse": Thank you! I was actually listening to the song when I was writing that scene. I have a playlist for different parts of the story. For example, Legolas's "theme" is the "Assassin's Creed Revelations Main Theme", and the song I was listening to while writing the scene with Saruman was "A Demon's Fate" by Within Temptation. :)

To "Fallenfire": Thank you! :D

To "Guest3": Thank you! There is going to be so much Legolas/Certain-Royal-Family member angst in the near-future... ;)

To "Guest": Thanks!

To "Bebeyeah": Thank you! :)

To "Kryst": Thanks for reviewing! You'll see what happens soon... ;)

To "TiTaN": Thank you! Huh. Now that I think about it, it kind of is. Its like a yellow-green version. I didn't even make that connection... Cool. :D

To "max": Thank you! I want to slap the canon-Eagles for not flying Frodo to Mount Doom. I know we would not have had a story then, but still! Darn Eagles... :(

To "Naomi": Thank you! Bereneth, Fael, and Megilag are not the ones who find out who he is first. The reveal is not far away. As for Legolas remembering his past... it's going to be a while.

To "Guest": Thank you! I already have her reaction planned out. (smirks) She is going to regret a lot of things...

To "emi": Thank you! Don't read the last part first! Then you know what's going to happen! Lol :P Its not much longer now. You'll be seeing more of the siblings. I plan on showing more of their characters and inner thoughts in upcoming chapters. As you saw, he did not go with them.

To "Guest 725": Thank you! Legolas is 500 years old exactly. That was unintentional at first because before I began to figure out the timeline, the main events in the story happened in 3018, making Legolas 507. But then I changed it because I wanted the events to happen earlier, so he's an even 500.

To "guest": Thank you! Still so close yet so far... but its not that far away now.

To "Aisha": Thank you! The Council did not believe Radagast because they seem him as a crazy fool. Frodo, Merry, Sam, and Pippin will be arriving in about three or four chapters. I've been focusing on the elves and need to get certain things out of the way before expanding to the other Races of Middle-earth. :)

To "VJ Riddle": Thank you! It's a careful balancing act to make sure Legolas does not become a Gary Stu. I just hate how helpless some people make him in their stories, and I wanted him to be an absolute badass to counter that. :P Of course Thranduil wasn't going to let the Councilors stop him! They were idiots to think that they could even try! :P

Please review! :)