Sorry again for the late update! I'm not gonna make excuses, just apologize. And get on with it. Yea.

Chapter 29

Within a few seconds, everyone was on their horses, weapons drawn. They formed a tight circle around Legolas and Thranduil. Legolas still didn't awaken from his unconsciousness, and Thranduil was finding it difficult to use his sword, his movements being limited by Legolas's weight, however light, upon him. The fact that he had to hold up his son's body with his other arm wasn't helping.

They all prepared to fight. The orcs circled them, preparing to strike tauntingly slowly. There were at least sixty of them.

Just as the orcs were about to strike, a war horn sounded to their left. Thranduil's head snapped in that direction, as did those of the rest of the party. The orcs were about to use this to their advantage, but suddenly arrows began to come in waves from the trees.

"Get down!" yelled Glorfindel, practically falling off his horse and lying as flat as he could on the ground. Everyone followed suit.

Thranduil felt the breath leave him with a whoosh as Legolas fell off of the horse with him and landed on top of him. He flipped over so that his body was over his son's, shielding it as the arrows continued to rain down on the already dead orcs.

An arrow came and grazed his cheek before embedding itself in the ground. He swore loudly.

"Putta pilininge! We toi Quendelie!" /Stop shooting! We are elves!/ he yelled.

The arrows came to a sudden stop, and the sound of rustling leaves and a soft thud greeted their ears.

"King Thranduil?" a voice inquired, and Thranduil looked up.

"Haldir," he said, standing up, Legolas in his arms. The others did as well.

Haldir looked carefully at Legolas, seemingly not recognizing him. The realization that it was the Elvenprince made his eyes widen, and he reached out and gently touched Legolas's cold face with one hand. But then he drew back, in formal mode once again.

"We must get him to Lady Galadriel," Thranduil said.

"Follow us," Haldir said. A small group of elves, about ten or fifteen of them, descended from the trees. "We shall get on our horses. We can get you to Lothlorien before the moon rises."

Thranduil paused in mounting his horse when he heard this.

"Before the moon rises?" he said. "How is that possible?"

Haldir gave a small smile, full of worry and sadness for his friend.

"We have a shortcut."

It was indeed before nightfall that they arrived in the Golden Wood. Legolas was lying on a stretcher that was being carried between the horses of the two Lorien elves. He still hadn't stirred.

Haldir pulled out a curved horn from his bag and blew into it. The sound, full and beautiful, echoed through the empty trees almost hauntingly. It bounced around the trunks and back at them, imprinting itself in their minds for what it really was.

A cry for help.

Within moments, the entire guard of Lothlorien was running towards them, leaping from their perches upon their flets and rushing in their direction. Among them was the Lady Galadriel herself.

She met them first, and she gasped as she saw the state of Legolas. She took her long, pale hands and held his face with unbelievable gentleness. She felt the small, shallow breaths that came from his parted lips, saw his closed eyes, and his heart immediately reached out to the young elf who she had stopped from fading not too long ago.*

She looked then, up at the Elvenking who had come to stand next to her.

'Your son has been tainted by an evil the likes of which I have never seen before,' she said to him within his mind. 'What poison has hurt your child?'

'Elrond and Glorfindel say that it is called Denetinei—' he began.

'Not that kind of poison, Thranduil. What has been done to hurt him so?'

Thranduil felt his cheeks flush at his stupidity.

'Veritinan's…descendant,' he thought, realizing that he had no idea how many generations had passed for a man between then and now. 'He captured him.'

Galadriel gave him a look that clearly said 'We'll definitely talk more about this later' and turned to the rest of the group, greeting them one by one.

"We must get liindaseldo to my flet. I will examine him, and then we shall speak of what has transpired since I last saw him."

"Liindaseldo?" Thranduil said, looking in utter shock upon Galadriel. She had never had a liking for him or any of his family or people. "Beautiful child?"

Galadriel gave him a small smile, placing her hand upon Legolas's hair and brushing it away from his face.

"That is the name we gave him when he first came here," she said quietly.

"Legolas has never been to Lothlorien before," Thranduil stated. "You know that, Galadriel."

She smiled softly again.

"All will be told, Thranduil," Galadriel murmured. "In good time. For now, Legolas is priority."

Thranduil nodded grudgingly and carefully lifted Legolas from the stretcher into his arms. He motioned for Galadriel to lead the way, and she began to walk quickly deeper into the forest. The rest of them followed.

They arrived at the flet about a half an hour later, and Galadriel stepped in.

"Celeborn," she said into the seemingly empty wide, spacious room. "Thranduil, Elrond, Glorfindel, Elladan, Elrohir, Aragorn son or Arathorn, Gimli son of Gloin, and Legolas have arrived. They seek our aid."

Seemingly out of nowhere, Celeborn walked into the room. He had blended almost seamlessly into the background of the golden trees in a shining gold tunic.

"So the Liindaseldo has returned to our lands?" he said. He approached them, and, just as Galadriel had, started at the sight of Legolas.

"What has happened to him?" he asked, looking at the pale, drawn face.

"I do not know," Galadriel said, already working swiftly. She motioned for Thranduil to lay Legolas on the floor, which he did, and proceeded to carefully remove his tunic to examine the well-muscled body underneath.

"His wounds are healing well," Galadriel said, relieved, re-lacing the tunic. She stood up, skirt swirling, and gathered a few blankets, wrapping them around the ailing prince. "I do not need to do anything, I think." She sat down at a large, round table in the center of the room. Celeborn sat to her left. The rest of the company sat as well. She spoke again.

"Now, all must be told."

A/N:

*I always liked the idea that Legolas was fading from grief over Gandalf when the Fellowship arrived in Lothlorien and Galadriel's magic helped him regain his hope.

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