Gingerly, Legolas tested his left arm, to find it almost healed but
not quite yet ready to pull for an arrow yet. His stomach growled,
reminding him that he had nothing but some wild fruit to eat over the last
few days.
He had gotten used to Orcs, passing by his den by now. He no longer leapt up at their approach but rather shrank back slightly while grasping his short sword. The disguise of the den worked so well no Orc had the intelligence nor the observational skills to see it.
But he could not wait. The longer he waits, the more danger Aragorn and the rest would be in. so quietly, he stuck out his head from the pine covers, and looked around, listening tensely for any approaching sounds. He himself could not take on an army of magically trained Orcs, he needed help, and for that, he had decided to steal a horse and travel to the closest place where he could find help safely, to Mirkwood, where he knew that his father's people could help him. Bitterly, he wished that Mirkwood would not be overtaken like Lothlorien, and prayed silently for the health of his father, may his father's doom be other than his.
Silently, he ran from the cave edge to the nearest clump of trees, then stopped to listen again. Noises, from the West! Three Orcs were on their way past this place, and Legolas looked around desperately for a mean of hiding, but unfortunately, in the forest, there were little places to hide. With a exasperated groan, Legolas rolled his eyes and started to climb onto the nearest tree, a very tall cedar. He hoped that the leaves would be sufficient enough to hide him as he nestled on a high branch and look down cautiously.
The three Orcs walked closer and closer until they were right underneath him. Suddenly, they stopped, and Legolas could feel his heart leaping to his throat. He dearly hoped that the Orcs could not hear his ragged breath as he fought to control his heart beat and stayed as still as a stone. Luckily, the Orcs seemed to only have stopped for enjoyment or talking, for they moved on quite quickly.
Legolas heaved a heavy sigh and was about to get off the tree when he found his legs virtually glued to the tree. He tried to move and the tree moved with it. Disgusting laughter came from a few meters away and the Orcs walked back at a leisurely pace, and looked up at him.
"We miss one elf." One of them, apparently the magic user, looked up amusedly and pointed at him. Then, they said something in the Black tongue so offensive that Legolas could feel his temper rise. Quick as lightening, he pulled out an arrow, ignoring the pain in his left arm, and shot it at the magic user. That particular Orc looked up and did not have enough time to react. He was laughing when the arrow thudded directly into his skull. He fell back slowly, and landed with a soft thump onto the ground layered with fallen leaves. Soon enough, the red and yellow leaves all turned a disgusting color of gray as the Orc's body gave off a foul smell. As the magic user died, the magic no longer had an effect on Legolas. Taking this small moment of shock, Legolas leapt down from the tree and shot one more Orc down. This time, the arrow went straight through the chest and came out protruding from the back of the unfortunate Orc. He gave a little scream which turned into a faint gurgle as blood rushed from his mouth; he fell forwards with a surprised expression and landed with his eyes still wide open. The third Orc was smart and turned around to run and get help. Knowing that this could prove to be fatal, Legolas immediately pulled out his short sword with the good right hand and launched himself at the Orc. The Orc was running at his fastest speed, but Legolas had the naturally born advantage of being fast given to him as an elf. He dove forward gracefully and plunged the sword deep into the Orc's lungs, and then, with a hugging posture, snapped the Orc's neck. He did not want the Orc to suffer a slow death.
Looking down darkly at the three bodies, Legolas chose one of around his height and started to take off his Orc rags. He took off his own cloths and put on the Orc rags so he would not look so suspicious. Fortunately the rags had a hood, and Legolas was able to hide his whitish-golden hair underneath it. Even though it did not hide his height (he was on average a head taller than any Orc), he knew that it offered him tons more protection than his original clothes.
Stiffly, Legolas wrinkled up his nose. 'These Orc rags stink! Do these Orcs never take baths?' Then, knowing that he has worse things to worry about, Legolas sighed and moved on silently through the foliage.
He had the minimal idea of where the horses were kept. He had a glimpse of the horse stall on his way into this new piece of woods. These woods were convenient; they were located right between Fangorn and Lothlorien. It has been a year since he last visited Fangorn forest, and since lady Galadriel's kind wish of linking Lothlorien and Fangorn, this new piece of woods was planted and grew amazingly fast into a full grown forest under the care of Lady Galadriel. The horse stall should be closer towards the Lothlorien end, since that is where they entered. Legolas moved his left arm around sorely. It was aching now, though a dull throb, it hurts enough for Legolas to grimace. Without a sound, he slinked through the woods towards the general direction of the horses until he could see the light of the setting sun through the trees in front of him. That meant that he was very close to the edge of the forest. Stopping to listen, he could just barely hear the whinnying of the horse.
Then he realized that he could hear only one horse. His first thought was My lord! They've slaughtered the rest! A hot rage and a sense of worry crept up upon him, because amongst those horses was his mount ever since he was small, Luranor. Though elves preferred to travel by feet, Luranor had always been Legolas' mount. It was she who carried him to Rivendell from Mirkwood, and she who Gimli brought for them to ride to Lothlorien after Aragorn's downfall. Legolas started running as the whinnying of the last horse turned desperate, and as he got to the clearing, he saw several Orcs encircle Luranor, all of them with knives raised.
'Slaughter the rest, you may, you half-breeds, but touch Luranor and you shall live in regret!' Legolas thought bitterly as he pulled out two arrows and fired almost instantaneously. Two Orcs who were standing between the straight path between Legolas and Luranor fell, their companions turned to them, surprised. Taking the chance, Legolas gave a loud whistle. Luranor reared up, recognizing the sound. She galloped past the circle of Orcs from the gap created by Legolas' arrows, and made it right for him. As she ran to him, she lowered her head and ran right into him, but Legolas was prepared. This was something they did often. He crossed his arms and held onto her head as she came to him, and she tossed her head up, making Legolas do a backwards-sideways flip as his arms un-crossed, and he landed squarely on her back.
With an elven shout, he spurred her away from the Orcs, whom were just barely raising an alarm. Their guttural shouts pierced through the silence of the night, as Legolas bent over as not to get knocked off the horse by a low branch. Luranor whinnied but kept on running, straight for Mirkwood, to the place she knew best. As the sound of the Orcs dimmed to his ears, Legolas relaxed a tiny bit and rubbed Luranor behind the ear. The horse did not stop running, instead, she ran faster, and like wind, they streaked through the darkening woodland and paths between Lothlorien and Mirkwood. It was not long before Legolas could hear the sound of the rushing waters of the river Anduin, and gave a soft sigh. But the sounds of more hooves behind him made him sit upright again. The Orcs were catching up.
Impossible! He thought, and for a second it did seem impossible. He had gotten such an early start from them, how could they have caught up so quickly? Then it occurred to him, and it was with a groan did he realize a fact. 'Magic. There is a magic-user amongst these Orcs. Of course, that was how they had managed to ambush us once again!'
A few more meters and the river was in sight. The sounds of the approaching hooves drew nearer and nearer until one Orc is already at Legolas' side. Legolas veered right, Luranor turned sharply. This Orc was apparently the magic user because he had left the rest of his companions far behind, he was the only one fast enough to catch up with Luranor.
"Liehth!" Legolas ordered in Elven tongue. Luranor obediently came to a dead stop, and reared up its hind legs. The Orc's horse could not react enough, and ducked last minute, so Luranor's hooves went directly into the face of a stunned Orc, who did a back flip off his horse. There was a horrible crunching sound and Legolas knew that he was beyond help. It was lucky that he did not use magic when he was that close, because if he did, Legolas would be captured by now. Legolas himself knows little magic, but he knew the terribleness of it. He had seen what Gandalf could do, and many others, also.
Then, he pulled in Luranor and, together, they crossed the Anduin river. The woods of Mirkwood was already in sight, the leaves glittering underneath the sun. But Legolas immediately sensed that something was wrong. It was mourning. Luranor sensed it too, and slowed purposefully, and gave a soft cough. Legolas could hear it, and could sense it. The trees were mourning, the sun was mourning. An entire atmosphere of sadness hung over Mirkwood like a veil, overshadowing it and enclosing it into gloom despite the sunlight and the blue sky above it.
But the sound of more horses behind him jolted him back to reality. An arrow rushed by his ears so close he heard the noise made by the rushing wind. "Hia!" He pulled the reins in and shouted, Luranor moved on like lightening towards the woods.
Then, it had happened so fast Legolas could not respond fast enough. Luranor suddenly froze, as if time had stopped. The momentum sent Legolas flying over her head. His instincts kicking in, he did a flip in mid air and landed shakily onto his feet, almost toppling over, but did not fall. Luranor tumbled over, still frozen in a running position. Legolas looked up, and saw an Orc, almost immediately upon him and Luranor, with his arm raised. His heart filled with hatred and rage, Legolas pulled out an arrow and shot it directly at the Orc's chest. The arrow was true to its mark, except it was frozen in the air millimeters away from its target. With a smirk, the Orc sent it right back at him. Legolas dodged, flipping aside as his own arrow struck the ground and quivered there for a second, exactly where his head was a few seconds ago.
Then, he felt the strange sensation come over him, and found himself numb, unable to move. Some vine-like magic had crawled up to him, entangling him, making him unable to move from his vulnerable position, facing upwards and lying on the ground.
The Orc did not do a thing for a few minutes, merely resting or recuperating from the energy lost to cast that spell, and waiting for the others to catch up. With all his willpower, Legolas tried to move desperately. His heart was pounding very fast, but the magic had bound him tightly. The move he tried to move, the more the magic seemed like an invisible hand, strangling him, making him gasp for air by the second. The Orc sat back and watched in sheer pleasure.
"So, you . elf think himself smart?" He said in ragged common tongue, then said something in Black speech and spat right beside Legolas. "You elves, stupid, bad. You think you big, you think you great, but you no more than worm, you beg for life, I let you go."
With a grim smile, the Orc clapped his hands together and said something silently. Suddenly, Legolas found his mouth free, though no other part of him could move. He tried to move his legs but they would not budge, as if hot ropes tied them together. Gritting his teeth, Legolas said nothing, merely looked upon the Orc's face with contempt, which was all he felt inside him, boiling up to the surface. He was never too fond of Orcs.
"You wear Orc, I see." The Orc remarked. Legolas curled his lips sardonically, and dared him to say more. "You don't deserve wear Orc. When companions come, they kill you and take back Orc garments."
"Not garments, only rags." Legolas retorted, while trying hard not to picture what his body would look like after they're done with him. "You Orcs never had proper garments."
Hearing this, the Orc seemed more amused than angered. He gave a light leap off his horse, and walked over to Legolas. He then kneeled down, and held one hand onto Legolas' chin, and tilted it upwards so they were face to face. His mouth curled back to reveal a row of rotten teeth, and from which a rotten stench came emanating out of. It almost made Legolas cough in revulsion. "I like you, elf. You strong, you fight. But we kill you anyway."
Legolas could not have cared less. One look at Luranor, frozen in position, lying on the grass, gave him the courage. He spat onto the Orc's face. It wasn't difficult, since his face was only a few centimeters away. As an instinctive move, the Orc turned his own face sideways as if a blow had struck. Then, for a brief moment, nothing happened. He did not turn his head around, and Legolas glared at him in disdain.
Then, he turned his head around so fast and bumped his head with all his might onto Legolas' forehead. The pain made Legolas' vision black out for a moment. Legolas could hear his ears ring as the impact hit him. Very soon, his vision returned, and he saw that the rest of the Orcs had caught up by now and had formed a circle around him, pointing their rapiers at him, gibbering away in the Black tongue.
The magic-user had remounted, and was watching him with the utmost satisfaction. Ignoring the ringing in his ears and the fact that he swore that he could see stars, Legolas frantically tried to think of a way to escape, but he showed no fear to the Orcs. He glared at each of them in turn, making sure that they all understood his loathing of them. 'If I had to die' he thought grimly, 'I will not give into them willingly. I would fight till the end.'
One of the Orc jumped off his horse impatiently, and waved his dagger at him. With a sign from the magic user, the rest of the Orcs leapt off their horses eagerly, and advanced upon Legolas, their knives and daggers raised, the bloodthirstiness of their kind showing in their eyes.
The one on the left plunged his dagger down towards Legolas, who determinedly stared up at him, glaring. This was death. Legolas braced himself for the pain and the impact, and looked at Luranor for the last time. 'She was faithful, alright, and she was with me till the end.' He thought, as sadness rushed through him the last second, along with a deep sense of gratitude. He could hear the rushing wind, as the dagger plunged .
Everything froze. Legolas watched in wonder as the dagger stopped a bare hairbreadth away from his chest. Amazed, he stared around at the Orcs. Every single of them was frozen with their triumphant expression still on their faces, the magic user, sitting on his horse, glancing down at him with that victorious sneer. Then, an arrow flew from the woods, and pierced deep into the magic-user's heart. Without a sound, and in slow motion, the Orc first tipped sideways, then leaned further and further until he was at an impossible angle. Then, very slowly, he fell. His head struck the ground first, as his neck broke
Then the curse was lifted, and Legolas found himself free to move. The first thing he did was to turn around and look at who had helped him, and found several Mirkwood elves, with a wizard amidst them, with their attention all focused on him, with their bows still taught with the arrow readily notched.
Slowly, the elves all lowered their weapons one by one, and filed over to Legolas, with the wizard behind them. As soon as they reached Legolas, they all kneeled suddenly.
"Greetings, kinsmen. Something is wrong, please tell me." Legolas inquired as he sat up, rubbing his legs grimly. They hurt terribly as a result of the spell, and he found little strength to move further.
"A great one has passed away, lord." One of the elves said without looking up. None of the others dared to meet his eyes.
"Who had . lord?" Legolas was going to ask who had died, but the way they called him made him stop. "I am but merely the prince, my father is your lord."
"No." One of the elves replied dully. "The great king Thranduil had . passed away, you, my prince, you are now the lord of Mirkwood, the king of our kind."
There was a shocked silence that followed, where nobody knew what to say. Legolas felt the numbness climbing up him again, with a feeling exactly like when he was hit by the spell. Every part of him became immobile, as he sat on the ground, gazing blankly into the circle of elves whom were all kneeling around him.
"How?" A hushed noise came out of his mouth. It was barely distinguishable, but the elves all understood.
"Pierced through the heart, my lord." The head elf replied grimly, looking up a little to glance at Legolas' reaction. "By a human arrow."
"We must avenge him!" Said a voice from somewhere in the circle, and the head elf glared at the speaker.
"No!" Legolas shouted before he realized what it was that he had said. All the elves around him had turned to him now, surprised. "I mean ." He hastily corrected himself. "I mean we must search for evidence! Now let us move back into the woods."
And he took the lead, and the rest of the elves followed after him silently single filed, following his back. None of the elves behind him saw those tears that streaked down his cheeks as he silently struggled on through the woods.
He had gotten used to Orcs, passing by his den by now. He no longer leapt up at their approach but rather shrank back slightly while grasping his short sword. The disguise of the den worked so well no Orc had the intelligence nor the observational skills to see it.
But he could not wait. The longer he waits, the more danger Aragorn and the rest would be in. so quietly, he stuck out his head from the pine covers, and looked around, listening tensely for any approaching sounds. He himself could not take on an army of magically trained Orcs, he needed help, and for that, he had decided to steal a horse and travel to the closest place where he could find help safely, to Mirkwood, where he knew that his father's people could help him. Bitterly, he wished that Mirkwood would not be overtaken like Lothlorien, and prayed silently for the health of his father, may his father's doom be other than his.
Silently, he ran from the cave edge to the nearest clump of trees, then stopped to listen again. Noises, from the West! Three Orcs were on their way past this place, and Legolas looked around desperately for a mean of hiding, but unfortunately, in the forest, there were little places to hide. With a exasperated groan, Legolas rolled his eyes and started to climb onto the nearest tree, a very tall cedar. He hoped that the leaves would be sufficient enough to hide him as he nestled on a high branch and look down cautiously.
The three Orcs walked closer and closer until they were right underneath him. Suddenly, they stopped, and Legolas could feel his heart leaping to his throat. He dearly hoped that the Orcs could not hear his ragged breath as he fought to control his heart beat and stayed as still as a stone. Luckily, the Orcs seemed to only have stopped for enjoyment or talking, for they moved on quite quickly.
Legolas heaved a heavy sigh and was about to get off the tree when he found his legs virtually glued to the tree. He tried to move and the tree moved with it. Disgusting laughter came from a few meters away and the Orcs walked back at a leisurely pace, and looked up at him.
"We miss one elf." One of them, apparently the magic user, looked up amusedly and pointed at him. Then, they said something in the Black tongue so offensive that Legolas could feel his temper rise. Quick as lightening, he pulled out an arrow, ignoring the pain in his left arm, and shot it at the magic user. That particular Orc looked up and did not have enough time to react. He was laughing when the arrow thudded directly into his skull. He fell back slowly, and landed with a soft thump onto the ground layered with fallen leaves. Soon enough, the red and yellow leaves all turned a disgusting color of gray as the Orc's body gave off a foul smell. As the magic user died, the magic no longer had an effect on Legolas. Taking this small moment of shock, Legolas leapt down from the tree and shot one more Orc down. This time, the arrow went straight through the chest and came out protruding from the back of the unfortunate Orc. He gave a little scream which turned into a faint gurgle as blood rushed from his mouth; he fell forwards with a surprised expression and landed with his eyes still wide open. The third Orc was smart and turned around to run and get help. Knowing that this could prove to be fatal, Legolas immediately pulled out his short sword with the good right hand and launched himself at the Orc. The Orc was running at his fastest speed, but Legolas had the naturally born advantage of being fast given to him as an elf. He dove forward gracefully and plunged the sword deep into the Orc's lungs, and then, with a hugging posture, snapped the Orc's neck. He did not want the Orc to suffer a slow death.
Looking down darkly at the three bodies, Legolas chose one of around his height and started to take off his Orc rags. He took off his own cloths and put on the Orc rags so he would not look so suspicious. Fortunately the rags had a hood, and Legolas was able to hide his whitish-golden hair underneath it. Even though it did not hide his height (he was on average a head taller than any Orc), he knew that it offered him tons more protection than his original clothes.
Stiffly, Legolas wrinkled up his nose. 'These Orc rags stink! Do these Orcs never take baths?' Then, knowing that he has worse things to worry about, Legolas sighed and moved on silently through the foliage.
He had the minimal idea of where the horses were kept. He had a glimpse of the horse stall on his way into this new piece of woods. These woods were convenient; they were located right between Fangorn and Lothlorien. It has been a year since he last visited Fangorn forest, and since lady Galadriel's kind wish of linking Lothlorien and Fangorn, this new piece of woods was planted and grew amazingly fast into a full grown forest under the care of Lady Galadriel. The horse stall should be closer towards the Lothlorien end, since that is where they entered. Legolas moved his left arm around sorely. It was aching now, though a dull throb, it hurts enough for Legolas to grimace. Without a sound, he slinked through the woods towards the general direction of the horses until he could see the light of the setting sun through the trees in front of him. That meant that he was very close to the edge of the forest. Stopping to listen, he could just barely hear the whinnying of the horse.
Then he realized that he could hear only one horse. His first thought was My lord! They've slaughtered the rest! A hot rage and a sense of worry crept up upon him, because amongst those horses was his mount ever since he was small, Luranor. Though elves preferred to travel by feet, Luranor had always been Legolas' mount. It was she who carried him to Rivendell from Mirkwood, and she who Gimli brought for them to ride to Lothlorien after Aragorn's downfall. Legolas started running as the whinnying of the last horse turned desperate, and as he got to the clearing, he saw several Orcs encircle Luranor, all of them with knives raised.
'Slaughter the rest, you may, you half-breeds, but touch Luranor and you shall live in regret!' Legolas thought bitterly as he pulled out two arrows and fired almost instantaneously. Two Orcs who were standing between the straight path between Legolas and Luranor fell, their companions turned to them, surprised. Taking the chance, Legolas gave a loud whistle. Luranor reared up, recognizing the sound. She galloped past the circle of Orcs from the gap created by Legolas' arrows, and made it right for him. As she ran to him, she lowered her head and ran right into him, but Legolas was prepared. This was something they did often. He crossed his arms and held onto her head as she came to him, and she tossed her head up, making Legolas do a backwards-sideways flip as his arms un-crossed, and he landed squarely on her back.
With an elven shout, he spurred her away from the Orcs, whom were just barely raising an alarm. Their guttural shouts pierced through the silence of the night, as Legolas bent over as not to get knocked off the horse by a low branch. Luranor whinnied but kept on running, straight for Mirkwood, to the place she knew best. As the sound of the Orcs dimmed to his ears, Legolas relaxed a tiny bit and rubbed Luranor behind the ear. The horse did not stop running, instead, she ran faster, and like wind, they streaked through the darkening woodland and paths between Lothlorien and Mirkwood. It was not long before Legolas could hear the sound of the rushing waters of the river Anduin, and gave a soft sigh. But the sounds of more hooves behind him made him sit upright again. The Orcs were catching up.
Impossible! He thought, and for a second it did seem impossible. He had gotten such an early start from them, how could they have caught up so quickly? Then it occurred to him, and it was with a groan did he realize a fact. 'Magic. There is a magic-user amongst these Orcs. Of course, that was how they had managed to ambush us once again!'
A few more meters and the river was in sight. The sounds of the approaching hooves drew nearer and nearer until one Orc is already at Legolas' side. Legolas veered right, Luranor turned sharply. This Orc was apparently the magic user because he had left the rest of his companions far behind, he was the only one fast enough to catch up with Luranor.
"Liehth!" Legolas ordered in Elven tongue. Luranor obediently came to a dead stop, and reared up its hind legs. The Orc's horse could not react enough, and ducked last minute, so Luranor's hooves went directly into the face of a stunned Orc, who did a back flip off his horse. There was a horrible crunching sound and Legolas knew that he was beyond help. It was lucky that he did not use magic when he was that close, because if he did, Legolas would be captured by now. Legolas himself knows little magic, but he knew the terribleness of it. He had seen what Gandalf could do, and many others, also.
Then, he pulled in Luranor and, together, they crossed the Anduin river. The woods of Mirkwood was already in sight, the leaves glittering underneath the sun. But Legolas immediately sensed that something was wrong. It was mourning. Luranor sensed it too, and slowed purposefully, and gave a soft cough. Legolas could hear it, and could sense it. The trees were mourning, the sun was mourning. An entire atmosphere of sadness hung over Mirkwood like a veil, overshadowing it and enclosing it into gloom despite the sunlight and the blue sky above it.
But the sound of more horses behind him jolted him back to reality. An arrow rushed by his ears so close he heard the noise made by the rushing wind. "Hia!" He pulled the reins in and shouted, Luranor moved on like lightening towards the woods.
Then, it had happened so fast Legolas could not respond fast enough. Luranor suddenly froze, as if time had stopped. The momentum sent Legolas flying over her head. His instincts kicking in, he did a flip in mid air and landed shakily onto his feet, almost toppling over, but did not fall. Luranor tumbled over, still frozen in a running position. Legolas looked up, and saw an Orc, almost immediately upon him and Luranor, with his arm raised. His heart filled with hatred and rage, Legolas pulled out an arrow and shot it directly at the Orc's chest. The arrow was true to its mark, except it was frozen in the air millimeters away from its target. With a smirk, the Orc sent it right back at him. Legolas dodged, flipping aside as his own arrow struck the ground and quivered there for a second, exactly where his head was a few seconds ago.
Then, he felt the strange sensation come over him, and found himself numb, unable to move. Some vine-like magic had crawled up to him, entangling him, making him unable to move from his vulnerable position, facing upwards and lying on the ground.
The Orc did not do a thing for a few minutes, merely resting or recuperating from the energy lost to cast that spell, and waiting for the others to catch up. With all his willpower, Legolas tried to move desperately. His heart was pounding very fast, but the magic had bound him tightly. The move he tried to move, the more the magic seemed like an invisible hand, strangling him, making him gasp for air by the second. The Orc sat back and watched in sheer pleasure.
"So, you . elf think himself smart?" He said in ragged common tongue, then said something in Black speech and spat right beside Legolas. "You elves, stupid, bad. You think you big, you think you great, but you no more than worm, you beg for life, I let you go."
With a grim smile, the Orc clapped his hands together and said something silently. Suddenly, Legolas found his mouth free, though no other part of him could move. He tried to move his legs but they would not budge, as if hot ropes tied them together. Gritting his teeth, Legolas said nothing, merely looked upon the Orc's face with contempt, which was all he felt inside him, boiling up to the surface. He was never too fond of Orcs.
"You wear Orc, I see." The Orc remarked. Legolas curled his lips sardonically, and dared him to say more. "You don't deserve wear Orc. When companions come, they kill you and take back Orc garments."
"Not garments, only rags." Legolas retorted, while trying hard not to picture what his body would look like after they're done with him. "You Orcs never had proper garments."
Hearing this, the Orc seemed more amused than angered. He gave a light leap off his horse, and walked over to Legolas. He then kneeled down, and held one hand onto Legolas' chin, and tilted it upwards so they were face to face. His mouth curled back to reveal a row of rotten teeth, and from which a rotten stench came emanating out of. It almost made Legolas cough in revulsion. "I like you, elf. You strong, you fight. But we kill you anyway."
Legolas could not have cared less. One look at Luranor, frozen in position, lying on the grass, gave him the courage. He spat onto the Orc's face. It wasn't difficult, since his face was only a few centimeters away. As an instinctive move, the Orc turned his own face sideways as if a blow had struck. Then, for a brief moment, nothing happened. He did not turn his head around, and Legolas glared at him in disdain.
Then, he turned his head around so fast and bumped his head with all his might onto Legolas' forehead. The pain made Legolas' vision black out for a moment. Legolas could hear his ears ring as the impact hit him. Very soon, his vision returned, and he saw that the rest of the Orcs had caught up by now and had formed a circle around him, pointing their rapiers at him, gibbering away in the Black tongue.
The magic-user had remounted, and was watching him with the utmost satisfaction. Ignoring the ringing in his ears and the fact that he swore that he could see stars, Legolas frantically tried to think of a way to escape, but he showed no fear to the Orcs. He glared at each of them in turn, making sure that they all understood his loathing of them. 'If I had to die' he thought grimly, 'I will not give into them willingly. I would fight till the end.'
One of the Orc jumped off his horse impatiently, and waved his dagger at him. With a sign from the magic user, the rest of the Orcs leapt off their horses eagerly, and advanced upon Legolas, their knives and daggers raised, the bloodthirstiness of their kind showing in their eyes.
The one on the left plunged his dagger down towards Legolas, who determinedly stared up at him, glaring. This was death. Legolas braced himself for the pain and the impact, and looked at Luranor for the last time. 'She was faithful, alright, and she was with me till the end.' He thought, as sadness rushed through him the last second, along with a deep sense of gratitude. He could hear the rushing wind, as the dagger plunged .
Everything froze. Legolas watched in wonder as the dagger stopped a bare hairbreadth away from his chest. Amazed, he stared around at the Orcs. Every single of them was frozen with their triumphant expression still on their faces, the magic user, sitting on his horse, glancing down at him with that victorious sneer. Then, an arrow flew from the woods, and pierced deep into the magic-user's heart. Without a sound, and in slow motion, the Orc first tipped sideways, then leaned further and further until he was at an impossible angle. Then, very slowly, he fell. His head struck the ground first, as his neck broke
Then the curse was lifted, and Legolas found himself free to move. The first thing he did was to turn around and look at who had helped him, and found several Mirkwood elves, with a wizard amidst them, with their attention all focused on him, with their bows still taught with the arrow readily notched.
Slowly, the elves all lowered their weapons one by one, and filed over to Legolas, with the wizard behind them. As soon as they reached Legolas, they all kneeled suddenly.
"Greetings, kinsmen. Something is wrong, please tell me." Legolas inquired as he sat up, rubbing his legs grimly. They hurt terribly as a result of the spell, and he found little strength to move further.
"A great one has passed away, lord." One of the elves said without looking up. None of the others dared to meet his eyes.
"Who had . lord?" Legolas was going to ask who had died, but the way they called him made him stop. "I am but merely the prince, my father is your lord."
"No." One of the elves replied dully. "The great king Thranduil had . passed away, you, my prince, you are now the lord of Mirkwood, the king of our kind."
There was a shocked silence that followed, where nobody knew what to say. Legolas felt the numbness climbing up him again, with a feeling exactly like when he was hit by the spell. Every part of him became immobile, as he sat on the ground, gazing blankly into the circle of elves whom were all kneeling around him.
"How?" A hushed noise came out of his mouth. It was barely distinguishable, but the elves all understood.
"Pierced through the heart, my lord." The head elf replied grimly, looking up a little to glance at Legolas' reaction. "By a human arrow."
"We must avenge him!" Said a voice from somewhere in the circle, and the head elf glared at the speaker.
"No!" Legolas shouted before he realized what it was that he had said. All the elves around him had turned to him now, surprised. "I mean ." He hastily corrected himself. "I mean we must search for evidence! Now let us move back into the woods."
And he took the lead, and the rest of the elves followed after him silently single filed, following his back. None of the elves behind him saw those tears that streaked down his cheeks as he silently struggled on through the woods.