Disclaimer:

Mean Man: Say it! Say it!

Spirit_Saviour: No, I will not!

Mean Man: Say it, or else!

Spirit_Saviour: Okay! Okay! I'll say it! I do not own…this web site! *muahahaha*

Mean Man: Stop this right now! *grabs a nearby arm and twists it*

Spirit_Saviour: Ow! Let go! I'll say it, so calm down. *Mean Man lets go of arm* Psyche!

Mean Man: Arghhhhhhh! You bit me! *holds up a now bleeding arm* I'll get you for this!

Spirit_Saviour: Oh yeah? HOW? *crackles loudly*

Mean Man: You give me no choice then, because if you do not say that you don't own Lord of the Rings or any of its characters, then I'll curse you with…The Writers Block…

Spirit_Saviour: Nooooooooooooooo! Fine, if that how you want it, then: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any of it characters. Are you happy with my disclaimer?

Very Very Mean Man: Yes.



Disclaimer (Again, you know, just encase): I do not own Lord of the Rings or any of its characters.







Legolas' Loss

By: Spirit_Saviour



"Mother." Spoke a child, basking in the attention of its caretaker.

"Yes Legolas?"

"If I were in danger, what would you do?"

"Well, I would save you from that danger and even risk my life in the process if it was necessary."

"Why?"

"Because I love you."

"But what if I were to be a stranger?"

Pausing at this question, the queen soaked herself beneath the night's glorious gaze. Legolas was always a very curious elf. "That is a very hard question to comment upon, and I have not the answer. But I do know, that if your heart and conscience desires it, you should do the best you can to help that person."

"Okay mother."

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Glancing at Dalia, Legolas noted that she too had sensed the danger, and was looking with pleading eyes at him for help. Defenseless and inexperienced in the art of war, speed alone couldn't outrun a party of wild orcs.

So, fleetingly sprinting over to the elf maiden, he seized his bow and positioned an arrow at the first visible mass of armor. Loosening his fingers he heard a small gasp emit from behind him after a loud crack concluded that his target was dead. When his quiver was empty, the only weapon he had left was an elven sword crafted by himself and as long as his arm.

Sweat ran down Legolas' temples as he thrust his deadly companion into the chest of a nearby orc, and leaped away when a barbaric pike passed by his head only inches away.

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1 Twenty-five down, two more to go…

Facing the next orc, Legolas froze as an ear splitting scream pierced the air- Dalia. There weren't two orcs left, there were three. Releasing a frustrated cry, he savagely killed the surviving invaders and ran over to where Dalia lay.

Dark red blood poured from her right side and pooled into a messy puddle on the cool green grass. Pulling her into his lap, the tired elf ripped a piece of cloth off from his tunic and tried to stop the bleeding. Terror and dismay frayed the edges of his nerves somehow. That was odd, he wasn't afraid of anything, he was immortal.

Suspicious rustling from bushes a few feet away caused Legolas to quickly get up and ready his sword.

"Legolas, there you ar- What happened!?" Came the melodious voice of his friend Thorack. All about this confused elf, dwelt the horrific aftermath of Legolas' battle.

Help me take this maiden to my father's city, and then we shall talk about it."

Looking towards his friend's voice, he saw Legolas once again kneel by a beautiful female's side.

"Here, I can use some of the powers I have to stop the bleeding and seal the wound, but it'll only last a couple minutes." Thorack held his hands over Dalia's wound and in a flash, what he had promised was done.

The two elves then picked up the unconscience body and silently carried it towards Mirkwood's heart.

************************

"Legolas? Legolas? Is that you? My goodness, you're caked in blood and dirt. Let me get you a new change of clothes." Scurrying over to the prince's wardrobe, Legolas' nurse Starlit pulled out a clean tunic, a pair of leggings, and soft leather shoes. Turning around, Starlit waited as her "baby elfie" got dressed. At sixty, Starlit's black hair had turned into a shimmering gray. But despite this flaw, her smooth skin and blue eyes were as lovely as the spring.

After the prince had finished, he silently washed his face and hands, ridding all traces of a life/death situation from himself.

"Your mother and father request your presence in the dining hall Legolas. I suggest that you get going soon, they were also worried about you like I wa- . Oh nevermind." Ended an ignored nurse. Legolas was already gone.

************************

Walking through the beautifully lit halls, Legolas carried the bow he had used earlier and a new quiver of arrows over his shoulder.

What was wrong with him? He had asked himself this question over and over again after reluctantly giving Dalia to some common elves who would do their best to heal her.

A feeling of panic and dread had clouded his thoughts ever since had met this strange elf. He was immortal, wasn't he? No one could kill him, and he never had to fear or even tremble, like he had today. Until now.

Except, Legolas wasn't the one who was in danger. It was Dalia. Her violet eyes held a mystic storm full with angry purple clouds and white light, represented by her hair, would once in a while flash in dispute. Experiencing Dalia's anger itself felt like being caught in the eye of some unknown storm He had known this ever since sensing her annoyance.

Also, some kind of power resided inside her soul. Something that even the best scholars in the whole of Middle-Earth would not be able to explain . What was she?

Turning a corner, Legolas noted that he was almost nearing the Dining Hall, and went back to his thoughts. Day and night were all the same to him, because disturbed feelings were not included. Of coarse, he would occasionally worry for his family when he or they were away, but all royalty were immortals, like him. Dalia had changed something inside of him and he would find out.

Suddenly stopping in front of a skillfully carved door, Legolas placed his fingers on the warm handle, and tugged lightly at the wood. A small click acknowledged his presence.



Author's Notes: Yes, my these are my notes. I don't have any though, except for the few words that I am typing down right now. Okay? Oh! Also, please review! I'd like to know how many people are reading my story, and if it'd be worth continuing writing it.