Thranduil stood on the highest level of Dale and watched the red light blazing on the horizon without joy for it was not a sunset he witnessed. It was not even a sunrise.

Raileen floated beside him but his voice held poor conviction for what he too feared. "Thranduil, it is likely nothing. A mere—"

"A mere what, Raileen? You know as well as I there are few things indeed to make the horizon blaze so." Thranduil's voice was tense.

Raileen pursed his lips as his feet touched solid ground. "Even if what we fear is true, Ciran and Ellhamier are there. They will protect the forest with their lives."

"I hope it does not come to that."

"Brenen and Realn will be worried," Raileen said. The wind ruffled his red hair and stars shone overhead. The black water of the lake rippled but the red blaze stayed the same, stretching from one end of the sky to the other.

"Yes," Thranduil said. He tore his eyes away from the horizon and stepped off the tower. Swift flames carried him toward the shadow of Erebor.

His appearance could not go unnoticed as the light of the fire made lanterns in the night and two fair-haired elves jumped up from their perches on the catwalk. Thranduil alighted beside his sons as Thorin emerged at the top of the stairs and rested his hands on the merlons.

"Thranduil," the dwarf said.

"Thorin," the elf replied.

Realn cut in, the snap in his voice hiding the tremble his frightened eyes betrayed. "Ada, there is no time for you to carry on your snit! Is it . . .?"

Thranduil grasped Realn's shoulders. "I do not know, Realn. It may be so, but nothing is certain."

Realn closed his eyes, fighting to control his rogue emotions, and Thranduil felt his left arm tightened as he clenched his ball.

"Should one of us not return home?" Brenen asked quietly, his eyes on the sky.

"If anything is wrong, a messenger will be sent to us," Thranduil said, biting his lip as he walked to the ramparts. "But Mykar is untried in the face of peril and I am worried about our family. There is no telling when the orcs will arrive. Brenen, I think—"

He stopped. A bright ball of orange light seemed to break away from the horizon, hurtling toward the dark mountainside. Thorin stepped back with his palms ready and Brenen's eyes narrowed as he gripped his spear.

Thorin drew his arm back as the ball neared his home. A bolt of blue lit up the night. It hit home and the orange ball died, a faint shadow dropping toward the earth with a cry.

Brenen lifted off, calling to Thorin, "Now is as good a time as any to see what you have felled. Though I do not advise shooting blindly."

The elves and dwarf flew in the invisible wake of Thorin's lightning bolt, the dwarf muttering. The limp form lay groaning on the rocks and, as Brenen alighted a few feet away, the fire under his feet flickered over blonde hair and—

"Legolas! Oh valar, Legolas!" Thranduil cried and dropped clumsily to the ground beside his son.

"Ada?" Legolas wheezed, struggling to sit up.

"By the valar, this is the second time Thorin has hit you!" Thranduil exclaimed, his fingers searching for wounds. "Are you hurt?"

"No, only winded. Thorin's bolt upset my balance. I have been flying for nights without rest and I did not have the strength to go on . . . tired."

Brenen looked toward the horizon with dread raging in his heart as Thranduil helped Legolas to his feet and gave him an arm and shoulder to lean on.

"Smaug came from Ungol," Legolas said. "With a jewel burning where his heart should be. Though he was nothing but a skeleton, he spat blue fire and brought Mirkwood to its knees within days. The forest is gone, ada, there is just blackened wood and baked ground. It is nothing! Valar, it is awful . . ."

He stumbled as Thranduil stumbled, words failing all but Brenen as he rushed to support his brother and father. The first words off Thranduil's lips were for his beloveds. "Cinwe? Mykar?"

"Few died," Legolas murmured. "Ciran, Ellhamier, and I held off the beast while Cinwe and Mykar lead the people into the underground world Ellhamier has been picking away at over the years. The elves are safe."

Thranduil knew elves must have died. The loss of Mirkwood stung but knowing most of his people lived dulled the pain. He bit his lip, his heart swelling at the many times he had teased Ellhamier for the uselessness of the great expanse of underworld caverns. "We are not dwarves," he had said. "And we never shall be."

Thranduil turned away from the horizon; that hateful, blazing horizon, and gave Legolas his attention. "Come, ion, you need rest."

Without a word, Brenen shouldered his spear and took off for Dale, knowing Smaug could be fast approaching. The armies of Mirkwood needed leadership and Legolas needed his father.

Realn's eyes roamed the sky for anything screaming dragon before he and Thorin soared back to Erebor. Thorin strode into the cold halls, his footsteps grim as he bellowed orders for doubled fortifications.

"Durin has granted us a chance at revenge," Thorin swore. "The beast will die and the Arkenstone will be mine!"

It is true.

I have burned down Mirkwood and brought Smaug back from the dead. Is that enough plot twists for one story?

Thanks so much for reading, people! You make my day with your thoughts.

Next Chapter: For the death of Smaug!