None of the original characters such as Legolas, Thranduil and Elrond am I trying to steal. They all belong to John Ronald Reul Tolkien, and I think his son Christopher Tolkien also. The only characters that are mine and mine alone are the ones that I have completely made up, such as Legolas's lover (who is coming soon because I have not gotten that far and I do not know her name but I think it might be Evine with a long I) and others that I will make up and have made up. Bear with me here, because you simply must understand that I am not yet finished reading the Trilogy, so if I get something wrong or inaccurate, please tell me. Thank you. DO NOT COPY THIS!! First of all, you do not want the wrath of Sauron unleashed upon you, and besides, it is bad karma.
I
The Battle of Dol Guldur
The light pats of the Elf's feet were so silent that hardly any other could hear them unless they strained their ears. They were hurried, one would notice at first, and gave off a vibe of excitedness and a little fear.
The Elf was Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Northern Greenwood, and son of Thranduil, King of Greenwood, one of the dwellings of the High Elves. Clad in forest green corduroy and dark brown leather armor, the youthful sixteen-year-old Elf was just beginning his new life as a royal.
Legolas was hurrying to his favorite spying tree, the highest tree in the great forest of Greenwood, to try and catch a glimpse of his father's armies battling the orcs at the borders of his homeland. He had only been running for a few minutes when he came upon the Great Tree. His speed surprised him, for he had not yet discovered his capabilities as a High Elf. He would, though, in the defining battles to come.
He swiftly climbed the tree, and within seconds was at the top of it, almost one hundred feet high. Legolas squinted his sharp eyes, looking for the gleams of swords slashing in the distance. He then saw it, after scanning the entire Southwestern slope of the Greenwoodian border. There was the battle, with many a sword flashing at the noon's Sun. She was shining high, right above Legolas and the Tree, which made watching the battle even more difficult. But Legolas remained balanced and stood on the highest branch, his left hand clutching the Tree, his right hand shielding his eyes.
Legolas frantically looked, but to no avail. His dark brown eyes darted around anxiously, with the slightest amount of dread.
To the right of Legolas was the Mountain of Dol Guldur, protruding out of the Earth like an evil arm reaching out of a shallow grave. It just stood there, beckoning eerily. Legolas impulsively thought about running to it, but resisted.
The battle raged on for many hours, with Legolas searching desperately for his father. He simply couldn't find him, for Thranduil was just too far away to be distinguished from Elf or Orc. Though try as he may, he still could not see the blue flash of his father's sword. Finally, once he saw its gleam in the distance, and his heart leapt with concern. He never saw it again. He jumped down the tree and ran as fast as he could through the forest, to the edges of the forest, to see if he could find his father. He dodged trees and branches until he came upon the battle. The chaos was overpowering. Legolas felt fear overcome him, and almost ran. But he resisted this as well and charged on, with beads of sweat rolling down his face. Determination now overtook Legolas, with him fighting heroically though he had relatively no experience whatsoever. Up and down his sword slashed, in and out. Unfortunately his bow was made for long-range fighting. This was hand-to-hand combat.
There was Thranduil. Legolas saw him, a few hundred feet away, atop his mighty white battle horse, slashing at the orcs below. Legolas took off running to his father's side, but there were so many orcs, he just couldn't get through. He pushed and he shoved, but he had only came a few feet closer to his father. Legolas took out his bow and arrow and began shooting at Thranduil's opponents. Thranduil looked up from slashing at an orc, and saw his son there, taking aim. A great smile of pride swept across his face.
Legolas kept rushing towards him, and when he caught his father's eye, he had a wave of immense joy.
"Father!" he cried out, reaching for his father.
"Legolas!" his father yelled back, grateful for such a brave son. They stood there for a moment, looking into each other's eyes, with so much emotion and happiness that they became quite vulnerable to orc attack.
Shhcckkk! The sound of metal whooshing through flesh was heard somehow over the racket of war. The arrowhead pierced his skin, going through the armor and his torso, but hitting the armor on the other side and stopping.
"NO!" Legolas cried out, grief-stricken at his felled father. Legolas aimed for the orc that shot the arrow, and let his arrow fly.
With all his might, Legolas rushed toward his father again, and somehow managed to get to Thranduil before he fell off his horse. Legolas caught him on the ground and dragged him out of the chaotic scene into a bush for some privacy and shelter.
"O father," cried Legolas, hunched over his father and rocking him back and forth.
"Legolas," answered his father's never before weak voice..
"Yes, father. I am here."
"My Prince," Thranduil put his hand on Legolas's face, to feel his flesh one last time. "I want you to know that you are heir to the throne of Greenwood. You must rid this land of the evil that has invaded. You must go to Rivendell, to Elrond and his Council, and ask assistance in this war against Sauron and his minions."
"But, how am I to convince the Council to aid us, mere Elves of Greenwood?" Legolas managed to say, still sobbing.
Thranduil smiled. "My son, just say what is in your heart." A single tear fell from Thranduil's eye and fell on the ground, making a patch of new green grass grow. He froze there, with his arm leaning on Legolas's shoulder.
"No. NO!" Legolas yelled out, in desperation.
Legolas sat there for a very long time, rocking his father back and forth and weeping. The contrasting setting of war was going on still, paying no notice the anguish of another.
It is a great wonder that Legolas did not die then of a broken heart, but like his father, he was very strong.
Legolas carried his father's body to Dol Guldur, and in the twilight he buried his body beneath the mountain. All the while Legolas wept, yet he never noticed the human girl watching him this entire time, hidden in the forest.
Legolas spent the night there, but returned to that field after the battle died, collecting weapons and armor and repairing them, making ready for a long journey.
That night was the worst night of his life, for he slept attacked by horrid dreams of fear and of godforsaken images of his father's death that only deepened the wound in his heart.
But when he awoke at dawn's soft lights, he felt ready. Ready for anything, Good or Evil. Though he had not the knowledge of how he would fare in his mission or how he would possibly get permission to speak to the great Elrond, and his grand council.
The morning when he bid his father a solemn farewell was the hardest morning of his life. Legolas bent down on one knee and cried over his father's grave so that a single tear fell on the newly disturbed soil, and like his father's tear, a patch of green grass began to grow there. Legolas set down a single Elvish flower, Lithrin, Thranduil's favorite, right down in that new patch of grass.
"Orome erEssa f'Eanor ancAlima elentAri d'enEthor," Legolas whispered an Elvish farewell prayer. He stood up, turned around, and walked away.
Just the day before, Legolas's home was known as Greenwood. But now that the Orcs had conquered it, it was Mirkwood. Still it was the land of the Elves, but they now had to defeat the orcs in order to survive.
I
The Battle of Dol Guldur
The light pats of the Elf's feet were so silent that hardly any other could hear them unless they strained their ears. They were hurried, one would notice at first, and gave off a vibe of excitedness and a little fear.
The Elf was Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Northern Greenwood, and son of Thranduil, King of Greenwood, one of the dwellings of the High Elves. Clad in forest green corduroy and dark brown leather armor, the youthful sixteen-year-old Elf was just beginning his new life as a royal.
Legolas was hurrying to his favorite spying tree, the highest tree in the great forest of Greenwood, to try and catch a glimpse of his father's armies battling the orcs at the borders of his homeland. He had only been running for a few minutes when he came upon the Great Tree. His speed surprised him, for he had not yet discovered his capabilities as a High Elf. He would, though, in the defining battles to come.
He swiftly climbed the tree, and within seconds was at the top of it, almost one hundred feet high. Legolas squinted his sharp eyes, looking for the gleams of swords slashing in the distance. He then saw it, after scanning the entire Southwestern slope of the Greenwoodian border. There was the battle, with many a sword flashing at the noon's Sun. She was shining high, right above Legolas and the Tree, which made watching the battle even more difficult. But Legolas remained balanced and stood on the highest branch, his left hand clutching the Tree, his right hand shielding his eyes.
Legolas frantically looked, but to no avail. His dark brown eyes darted around anxiously, with the slightest amount of dread.
To the right of Legolas was the Mountain of Dol Guldur, protruding out of the Earth like an evil arm reaching out of a shallow grave. It just stood there, beckoning eerily. Legolas impulsively thought about running to it, but resisted.
The battle raged on for many hours, with Legolas searching desperately for his father. He simply couldn't find him, for Thranduil was just too far away to be distinguished from Elf or Orc. Though try as he may, he still could not see the blue flash of his father's sword. Finally, once he saw its gleam in the distance, and his heart leapt with concern. He never saw it again. He jumped down the tree and ran as fast as he could through the forest, to the edges of the forest, to see if he could find his father. He dodged trees and branches until he came upon the battle. The chaos was overpowering. Legolas felt fear overcome him, and almost ran. But he resisted this as well and charged on, with beads of sweat rolling down his face. Determination now overtook Legolas, with him fighting heroically though he had relatively no experience whatsoever. Up and down his sword slashed, in and out. Unfortunately his bow was made for long-range fighting. This was hand-to-hand combat.
There was Thranduil. Legolas saw him, a few hundred feet away, atop his mighty white battle horse, slashing at the orcs below. Legolas took off running to his father's side, but there were so many orcs, he just couldn't get through. He pushed and he shoved, but he had only came a few feet closer to his father. Legolas took out his bow and arrow and began shooting at Thranduil's opponents. Thranduil looked up from slashing at an orc, and saw his son there, taking aim. A great smile of pride swept across his face.
Legolas kept rushing towards him, and when he caught his father's eye, he had a wave of immense joy.
"Father!" he cried out, reaching for his father.
"Legolas!" his father yelled back, grateful for such a brave son. They stood there for a moment, looking into each other's eyes, with so much emotion and happiness that they became quite vulnerable to orc attack.
Shhcckkk! The sound of metal whooshing through flesh was heard somehow over the racket of war. The arrowhead pierced his skin, going through the armor and his torso, but hitting the armor on the other side and stopping.
"NO!" Legolas cried out, grief-stricken at his felled father. Legolas aimed for the orc that shot the arrow, and let his arrow fly.
With all his might, Legolas rushed toward his father again, and somehow managed to get to Thranduil before he fell off his horse. Legolas caught him on the ground and dragged him out of the chaotic scene into a bush for some privacy and shelter.
"O father," cried Legolas, hunched over his father and rocking him back and forth.
"Legolas," answered his father's never before weak voice..
"Yes, father. I am here."
"My Prince," Thranduil put his hand on Legolas's face, to feel his flesh one last time. "I want you to know that you are heir to the throne of Greenwood. You must rid this land of the evil that has invaded. You must go to Rivendell, to Elrond and his Council, and ask assistance in this war against Sauron and his minions."
"But, how am I to convince the Council to aid us, mere Elves of Greenwood?" Legolas managed to say, still sobbing.
Thranduil smiled. "My son, just say what is in your heart." A single tear fell from Thranduil's eye and fell on the ground, making a patch of new green grass grow. He froze there, with his arm leaning on Legolas's shoulder.
"No. NO!" Legolas yelled out, in desperation.
Legolas sat there for a very long time, rocking his father back and forth and weeping. The contrasting setting of war was going on still, paying no notice the anguish of another.
It is a great wonder that Legolas did not die then of a broken heart, but like his father, he was very strong.
Legolas carried his father's body to Dol Guldur, and in the twilight he buried his body beneath the mountain. All the while Legolas wept, yet he never noticed the human girl watching him this entire time, hidden in the forest.
Legolas spent the night there, but returned to that field after the battle died, collecting weapons and armor and repairing them, making ready for a long journey.
That night was the worst night of his life, for he slept attacked by horrid dreams of fear and of godforsaken images of his father's death that only deepened the wound in his heart.
But when he awoke at dawn's soft lights, he felt ready. Ready for anything, Good or Evil. Though he had not the knowledge of how he would fare in his mission or how he would possibly get permission to speak to the great Elrond, and his grand council.
The morning when he bid his father a solemn farewell was the hardest morning of his life. Legolas bent down on one knee and cried over his father's grave so that a single tear fell on the newly disturbed soil, and like his father's tear, a patch of green grass began to grow there. Legolas set down a single Elvish flower, Lithrin, Thranduil's favorite, right down in that new patch of grass.
"Orome erEssa f'Eanor ancAlima elentAri d'enEthor," Legolas whispered an Elvish farewell prayer. He stood up, turned around, and walked away.
Just the day before, Legolas's home was known as Greenwood. But now that the Orcs had conquered it, it was Mirkwood. Still it was the land of the Elves, but they now had to defeat the orcs in order to survive.