Well I am back at college now. 2nd semester has now begun. We will have to see how I do keeping up with this story and all my homework!

I hope you will not kill me with all the cliff hangers I have done and will do! I promise I am not being mean, just trying to keep you guys coming back ;P

A note for the chapter: yes, Legolas's dream (as strange as it is) will become very important later on. As you will come to find out. So do not bash it too much I know it is quite odd…

DakotaPevensieGreenleaf - my editor! Thank you for putting up with me for so long ;P

With that said, read on!

Out of Mirkwood

Scribbles-on-Parchment

January 25, 2020

Chapter 27 – Dreams

Elrond looked behind as they prepared to leave the battle behind them. He couldn't help but feel relief to be leaving such a dark place behind. They had burned the ellon's body at the top of the hill. Tamír had requested they do this to keep any wild animals from digging up and consuming his body, which was too much of a weight for them to carry back to Imladris with them for a proper burial. Elrond had agreed and helped his friend with the ceremony.

The mood of the small party had been somber ever since. It was already well passed midday when the group was finally ready to leave. Elrond was not happy with their late start and prayed that nothing more would be able to catch up with them, for they would not be able to travel far before night fall. And though the ellyn could continue to go without rest it would not be possible for Estel or the horses to do so. They would have to make camp, hopefully somewhere far from here, for the night.

Elrond nodded his thanks to Tamír as the Mellon helped host the unconscious Maer onto the horse in front of him. He immediately tightened his arms around the young elf's waist and chest to keep him for falling forward. The soft golden locks fell in front of the Sinda's face as his head fell forward limply. Elrond could not help but sigh. This was going to be a long, uncomfortable ride.

The elf lord watched silently as Tamír mounted his own white steed, much slower than he usually did. Elrond frowned as he saw the sadness still darkening the face of his friend. It was obvious to him that the appearance and sudden death of Tamír's friend had brought the ellon many memories he did not wish to remember. The elf lord made note to ask the Silvan about this once they had returned safely to Imladris.

"Let us get as far away from this place as we can before the night comes upon us," Elrond glanced at his sons before saying this.

Estel had been unnaturally still and quiet since he had told them a part of his tale. He prayed the human was just trying to process this information and did not hate him. But he had too many other worries on his mind to think about that now. He would speak with his son later.

The small group of riders rode out into the open plains of Rohan leaving the death and darkness behind them.

As they rode Elrond tried to make the ride as gentle as he could for the young Sinda. He kept the elfling's body pressed against his to try and stabilize him. But after a while the ellon's arms grew tired.

As a way to help distract himself, Elrond let his mind wander. He thought back to the meeting he had had in Gondor. It was true that the darkness and evil of Mordor was continuing to spread out into area. Mirkwood was lost to it, all that was once lush and beautiful in the forest had been corroded away, corrupted by the evil creatures that had invaded it.

Théoden had seemed only concerned at the closeness of the forest to his lands; and for good reason. His people did not have the means to protect themselves against armies of yrch.

And Gondor was worse off. The yrch had already begun to pillage and destroy several of the small villages that lay at the borders, killing women and children, and burning everything to the ground.

But why now? This question was bothering Elrond. Why had they stayed in the shadows for so many years only to resurface at this time? Were they strong enough? Or was something happening that he did not know…

The elf lord looked down at the Sinda in front of him. This young elf would have answers. He was sure of it. For there was something about Maer that almost reminded him of Thranduil. But that great king had long departed for Valinor. No help would ever come from the Greenwood again. He had destroyed them, and since then a great void had been left in his heart. For he could no longer feel any light from the eldar in Mirkwood.

Elrond was jolted from his dark thoughts by his eldest son riding up beside him.

"Come ada. We must find a place to rest for the night. The light is already fading and I fear that if we go any longer Estel will fall asleep on his horse."

Legolas was drifting peacefully in darkness. For the first time in his life he felt free of worry, almost calm. Deep down he knew something was wrong, but he could not remember even where he was or what had happened to him. Burying the feeling, Legolas let himself relish in the utter nothingness around him.

However, slowly things began to change around him. The darkness faded and outlines began to appear. Legolas watched transfixed as the picture unfolded around him.

Kélion stood in his adar's elegant sitting room. The king sat at his desk drinking a glass of wine, a sorrowful look in his normally emotionless eyes. This caused Legolas to frown. He never remembered his adar looking so sad; so heartbroken, defeated even. Something horrible must have taken place.

The young prince shook his head and looked away toward his brother. The ellon was standing silently looking out from the window that overlooked the royal gardens. The sunlight filtered through the glass, casting dancing sunlight on the expansive rug. Both Ellyn reminded silent for a time.

Legolas's forehead wrinkled. Was this a dream? A vison? He never remembered having a dream this realistic before. He almost felt as if he were actually there.

"Why did you do it adar?" Kélion did not even look over at the king as he said this, but remained where he was, "Why did you take down the painting? Have you forgotten Legolas so quickly? Just like you did with naneth."

Legolas watched astonished as a tear slid down his adar's pale cheek. Thranduil never cried; he was a warrior, a king who showed no emotion. And what was this dream about? Was this foreshadowing his death? Was he already dead?

Thranduil set his glass down and looked about to say something when Êmand burst through the door.

The Sinda raised an eyebrow looking slightly annoyed and quickly wiped the tear from his face before saying harshly,

"What do you need? I asked not to be disturbed."

It was then that Legolas realized his mentor had his sword draw and had a nasty, bleeding gash on his forearm. It was dripping spots of crimson blood onto the rug.

"There is a traitor in the castle. He is attacking. You are in danger…both of you," Êmand was breathing heavily, brown eyes wide with adrenaline.

"I will not let you die like Legolas. Quickly you must…"

But the faithful guard never finished.

The young prince watched in horror as a sword was thrust through the elf's chest. Êmand's eyes went wide and seemed to fall onto Legolas for a second. Then the immortal light of the eldar vanished from around his body as his súlë fled his body. Êmand was dead.

The world seemed to slow around Legolas. This could not be happening. How could Êmand be dead?

The young prince's heart felt torn apart. It was utter agony; pain he had never felt before. He should have done something. But his body would not move, he was stuck watching his worst dreams take place right in front of him.

As Êmand's body fell to the ground a hooded figure who had been standing behind the now dead ellon was revealed. Kélion let out a strangled cry and drew a dagger that was at his waist.

"What have you done?"

The pure rage in his brother's voice tore at Legolas. He had never seen the elf this angry and wanted desperately to run to the ellon, but he could only watch the horror continue to unfold.

Thranduil had also leapt to his feet, a long, slender blade in his hand. The grief in his eyes had turned to hatred. A fire that Legolas has never seen before.

As one, both Ellyn lunged for the hooded assassin. And missed, their swords striking only air.

Legolas watched as the figure seemed move faster then even an elf could, and dodged their blades, leaping to Kélion's side.

The young prince knew what was about to happen a split second before it did. He opened his mouth to scream, but there was no sound.

The assassin lifted his razor- sharp blade and slashed it across his brother's throat killing him instantly. It felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. Legolas shut his eyes. This was all just a dream. It had to be. There was no way that both Êmand and Kélion were dead.

Even with his eyes closed tightly, it did not stop the dreadful gasp that his adar made from reaching his ears. It was followed closely by a cry, so full of emotion and of utter despair that if he had had control of his body, Legolas would have fallen to his knees. Even the trees seemed to be weeping and crying out in anger at the murder of the prince.

Legolas opened his eyes when the pain began to fade into a horrible, cold numbness. Deep down he knew this was just a dream, but what if it were true. What if both his mentor and brother were dead?

The young ellon saw his adar kneeing over the body of Kélion rocking the dead body against him, weeping as the blood stained his fine tunic. The king did not notice or did not care that the ellon was standing over him sword in hand.

Make it stop, Legolas pleaded, I need to wake up. I can't take anymore.

As if on command the royal chamber began to fade around him, until only the cloaked assassin remained in a sea of gray mist.

"Who are you?" Legolas's voice echoed around him.

The figure reached up and brushed his hood back slowly, first revealing a pair of piercing blue eyes that could freeze even the bravest of warriors. But there was no life in them, they were a dead and empty shell. As the rest of the hood fell away the air around Legolas seemed to become too thick to breath. He was staring at a perfect image of himself.

The image crumbled into darkness and the young prince felt himself falling. A split-second later Legolas jerked upright, breathing heavily and found himself staring right into the face of a Silvan elf.

Elvish Translations:

mellon – friend

maer - golden

yrch – orcs

ada - dad

adar – father

naneth – mother

súlë – spirit