"Let the council begin." Legolas could hear his own voice boom through the
magnificent hall of Mirkwood, as the other elves of high ranking sat around
the oval table made of hard red pine. The hall sounded strangely empty, and
his words reverberated against the glorious chamber walls.
"We have an urgent matter at hand!" One elf stood up immediately, and began his speech. Tired, Legolas sat back down and rubbed at his temples impatiently. Sometimes he considered his kind to be wise, other times, they are without reason the most impatient and rash race in middle-earth. The elf saw his actions and stood waiting. Not bothering to hurry, Legolas continued to rub his temple for a few seconds, then put down his hand slowly, and fixed the speaking elf with a stare. The elf cleared his throat and began. "The murder of Lord Thranduil cannot be passed just like this! Some action must be taken! The arrow was one of that of Gondor, formerly under the rule of lord Aragorn, who is now the lord..." he sneered. "A refugee lord, apparently."
"Objection!" Another elf shot up, rigid with rage. "That is outright disrespect towards the king of men!"
Suddenly, every elf there seemed to have taken a side, as they all stood up in a hurry, and the meeting abruptly turned into a shouting session. Legolas rolled his eyes impatiently and banged down very hard on his table. His hand hurt, but it had its effect. The noise stopped immediately as all the elves looked at him. Some older elves were about to object when they remembered that he was the king now. Grumpily, still glaring at the opposition, both sides sat down.
"Our objective is not to discuss the matter of men; this meeting is for discussing the death of Thranduil! For further actions, let us not result to lowly name-calling like children!" Legolas could feel the sound wave of his voice traveling in every direction. At that instant, his face was hard. He was no longer the young prince, but a lord of elves. Regally, he sat back down onto the chair and leaned back, worn-out. His eyes surveyed the room, and every pair of eyes looked back with respect. "Please continue, speaker, but no more disrespect."
"Yes, m'lord." The elf looked flustered, but only for a brief second. He was recomposed almost immediately, and began. "Men these days grows weak, they have ruined much, and taken even more. As a last resort to end this long growing tension, I ... I suggest war."
Even though the last suggestion was bold and sudden, no one found it surprising. It had been a common topic inside everyone's head. Nobody dared to voice it before, but the tension was growing. Ever since the death of Haldir, there had been rumors of humans sabotaging Haldir as a reason of his death. The tension grew so large that it seemed to loom over all inhabitants of middle-earth. The dwarves had excluded themselves back into their mountain caves again, preferring to stay out of this entirely. The speaker cleared his throat again, and looked around the room once before sitting back down. Instantaneously, another several hands rose. Legolas acknowledged Halden, Haldir's brother.
"There is no reason not to go to war." He said calmly. "I even would support war, for there had been rumors that my brother was sabotaged by humans. But... war is not a wise alternative. We must carefully consider the results of a full-grown war if warfare ever has its toll on us. We must cautiously collect evidence before making any moves. There must be a justified cause for war, and an arrow is not enough proof. Any creature on middle-earth might have gotten an arrow from Gondor. For as far as we know, these arrows are all over middle-earth."
Legolas let out a small sigh. 'Just what I wanted to say.' He thought. 'And even better, he has his supporters. I am in a more precarious situation than he is, and with him on my side, I can securely be the king and rule over Mirkwood, hopefully preventing warfare.'
"I agree with the suggestion of Halden, that careful investigation and negotiations should set forth before the outright war. We do have alternatives." Another spoke up. The tension suddenly grew to a dangerous level. Seeing another storm on the horizon, Legolas wasted no time in raising his hand for silence.
A few elves started to shout anyway. It was only days after Thranduil's death, and the elves were not yet used to being under the command of someone so young. Only few noticed Legolas' upraised hand and remained silent. The heated debate merely started before the shouting elves realized that something was wrong. They slowly looked towards the seat of the king, saw Legolas with his hand raised, it was as if the storm had came to an abrupt end.
"I suggest let the king have a word. He is, after all, the heir of the throne, the rightful king at the current moment!" Someone said softly from the assembly.
Legolas was hoping this moment would not come. He was not yet ready to take a stance. His feelings and his friendship for Aragorn held back his will to avenge his father, and yet if he ordered careful investigation, this would postpone the actions taken for his father's death, and it would anger many. If the war started, someway or another, Legolas knew that the dwarves would be pulled into this. After all, they were a major part of life force on middle-earth. And how many wizards would take side with the elves? With men? And what destruction would this cause for the hobbits? The Ents? Too many questions, too many concerns. Legolas felt torn between the need and pride of his kind, and the emotional attachment for the other races who had shown themselves worthy, through the participation of one or more of their kind in the fellowship. If there's something that would clear this all up, it is a conversation with Aragorn, and yet Aragorn is not here. Legolas also dearly wished for the council and advice of Mithrandir, but he is with the hobbits. Mithrandir...
"I shall seek advice from Mithrandir." Legolas said, loud enough for the whole hall to hear. Though displeased that no actions were taken immediately, most elves had enough respect for Gandalf to keep their discontentment to themselves. Some were even glad, because the war was, if not annulled, delayed to say the least.
"Does your highness have ways of reaching Mithrandir?" Someone dared a question from the crowd. Legolas knew, from the murmur that arose, that if he did not have a response fast enough, there would be much arguing over this matter.
"I will personally ride to consult him. He should be in the Shire right now, amongst the ring-bearers, the knight of Gondor, and the Rider of Rohan."
Subconsciously, Legolas felt the ring under his fingers. The ring has a stamp on top, it was the mark of the king of Mirkwood. That ring was the very symbol of the king, as the crown is to a human king. Since his father died, the ring had been conveniently passed down to him, and yet, right now, Legolas could almost fully understand the responsibility and burden the ring carried.
"Who shall be in charge in your absence, my lord?" Halden asked boldly. This time, instead of another wave of mutters, the hall was silent. With the superb hearing of the elves, Legolas could easily hear the chirping of the crickets outside. Nobody even dared to breath, for this moment was of utmost importance. Elves, though graceful creatures, politic just as much as humans, if not more. Involuntarily, many in the hall eyed the silver ring on Legolas' finger. Everybody was thinking it, Halden just had enough courage to ask it.
'If you would only understand the burden.' Legolas thought to himself. "I shall place Sarlan in charge, are there any objections? If yes, speak now, for this chance comes and passes." He then said.
Grumbles could be heard throughout the hall. Sarlan stood in shock, surprise clearly written all over his face. He had known that he was one of the possible candidates for the temporary throne, but he had many competitors. He, being senior, and one of the most adept at politicking and usage of magic, was also a brilliant tactician. However, there are many others who qualify just as much, if not more. Halden, brother of Haldir, qualified just as much.
"Do you, Sarlan, son of Galaden, accept this heavy responsibility to carry out the temporary role of the king, while keeping your place?"
"I do." With as much gravity and seriousness as he could manage, Sarlan gave a humble bow, as he went to take his place beside the king.
"If there are any objections, speak up now, for this is the final moment of indecision before the fate of the woods rests on this man's shoulders?"
One of the most influential elf tentatively raised his hand, but only as his head. Knowing the discomfort and taking full advantage of it, Legolas pretended not to notice, and made one brief sweep around the hall, before announcing, "The decision is final, then, From here forth, I shall be your king, but he shall be your regent king. I have power over him, yet he holds command over you all. Good night, may your rests be well, tomorrow shall be a long day."
And with that formal conclusion, the meeting ended. The assembly broke apart and went towards each of their different sections. It had always been customary for the king to be the last to leave, so Legolas stayed on his cushioned seat and watch the entire group disintegrate, grumbling and murmuring to each other. The hall was soon silent, except for one. Halden had stayed behind, perhaps in hope of talking with Legolas. With a sigh, Legolas stood up regally and beckoned towards Halden with an imperious sign. With a bow, Halden walked forward.
"My lord..." Halden only just began when he was immediately cut off by Legolas' wave of his hand.
"Do not call me that, for there are only the two of us left here. You are what I would call a very close friend, my only reliable council, so please do not use the formal title. I wish for a friend to discuss with, not another royal politician." Legolas told him, signaling that he should sit where Sarlan sat a few minutes ago.
Without signs of astonish, Halden sat down.
"You do understand, Halden, why I had chosen Sarlan instead of you, even though you are more qualified for the position?"
"I understand, Legolas."
Satisfied that Halden referred to him by his name, Legolas continued. "You are senior, loyal, and one of the wisest elf I've ever met, and yet, also because of that, I would like to have your advice on special matters. Sarlan is quite conservative, like his father before him, so I thought it was wise to put him in charge. He would not start the war without my permission, and he would carefully consider things before acting upon them."
"Legolas, you wish for me to accompany you?"
"Something had began, and yet I do not know what it is." Legolas said, deeply troubled. "Something big, that overshadows all else. This time, though, I feel as if we have a fighting chance, for we fight not against some unconquerable high lord, but merely Orcs, Orcs with magic. It is a battle, but something is amiss. I have my suspicions, but I must consult with Mithrandir, for his wisdom may proof to be valuable, yet again."
"There is something else." Halden noted, looking at Legolas' expression. Legolas deeply appreciated this acute sense of judgment, it was one of many of Halden's miraculous traits.
"We must save Aragorn. For if he stayed within the reach of the Orcs, then they may full well take his garments to threaten Lady Arwen, whose feelings for Aragorn had been proven thousand times over. And if that happens, the elves would not be the only race in danger, and furthermore, there would be no Aragorn's advice and trusty sword to rely on. To prevent something like this from happening, we must save Aragorn first."
"Save Aragorn? Orcs?" Halden was momentarily confused, but he figured it out soon enough, and gave a sharp intake of breath. "That is a perilous situation. I fear that if we were to accomplish this task by ourselves... it would prove to be difficult."
"We must, Halden." Legolas replied. He had seen this coming, and knew full well the things at risk, but he understood what was at stake. "For some reason, the Orcs are keeping the capture of Aragorn a secret, probably to use it later as an element of surprise to their advantage. The more people knows about Aragorn's capture, the more dangerous the situation is. The elves... you saw the reactions in the hall today ... might see this as a great opportunity to start war, and even Sarlan may not hold. The humans ... they may go into panic. Rumors tend to spread the fastest amidst the humans, and they will throw themselves into needless panic, and the dwarves has no reason to be pulled into this all."
Halden did not speak a word, but merely listened and nodded. By the end, he gave a final nod, as if taking this all in. His eyes showed that he still had certain doubts, but a deep sense of royalty in the Greenleaf family made him choke back all words of complaint.
"Young, yet wise for your age. You have certainly taken the time to consider all possibilities, Legolas." He said finally, while Legolas gave a slight smile. "Let us hope that we survive this all, then we shall truly see how wise you are."
"We take Lythran's path, then cross the Anduin river into Lothlorien, that should keep us away from the major force of the Orcs in Lothlorien, as far as I gathered from my last visit there." Legolas said, moving into the action plan. He did not wish to dwindle, for the life of one of his dearest friends lies in peril, and time along can make a big difference.
"We walk?"
"Time does not allow us to walk. We must ride. I know..." Legolas stated, looking at the bewildered expression on Halden's face. "I know that the condition of Lythran's path is very bad for horses, but we must ride. Time is running short, we have no alternatives."
Halden nodded. Then, seeing that Legolas was unwilling to speak more on this matter, he put in his own thoughts. "It seemed that the Orcs are massing, and they have more reasons than just simply to capture and kill lord Aragorn."
"So it seems. I suspect something is afoot, but that will depend upon the intelligence of the new breed of Orcs. If they are smart enough and capable...we may be faced with yet another war."
Tired, and completely drained of energy, Legolas rubbed at his temples again and made it for the king's chamber. It was his fathers, and now, it was his. When he was little, Legolas enjoyed walking into the room, and staring up at the splendor of it all. The wooden walls polished to shine like marble, the large writing desk with the eagle quill pen, the enormous bed with velvet covers. It was luxury, and he longed to one day own it, but now as he walked towards his childhood dream, the weight of it all fell heavily onto his shoulders. Everything in the room, every corner, every shadow, reminded him of his father. He left his father for the fellowship of the ring, returned only briefly after the fellowship, before leaving for the glittering caves with Gimli. Upon leaving the caves, they were both on their way back home when the Orcs stampeded Minas Tirith, the temporary resting place of Aragorn. Regretting not being able to see his father before his death, Legolas walked gloomily towards the giant wooden desk. It was made of cedar, polished with the finest oils. Moodily, he ran his fingertips lightly over the top, feeling the smooth, cold wood beneath his fingers, lost deep in thought of his father.
It might have been foresight, but Legolas knew. Before long, another war will begin. It was just a feeling, but it lodged itself deep within Legolas' heart. He tried to imagine what would have happened if this all had not happened, if the Orcs simply disbanded, leaving middle-earth in peace. He would have gone to Fangorn with Gimli, then taken a group of his father's people to Ithilien, and make it, once again, the most beautiful place on middle-earth. 'Yes, my father's people.' He thought grimly. 'I do not believe it was a human who killed my father. My father would still have been alive if the Orcs were not here.' He would, then, take his heart's dream, and sail the seas. Of course, that would mean leaving Gimli behind, but it was something Legolas had his heart set on going, and nothing was going to change that.
Silently, a figure behind the door left, seeing that no more could be heard from Legolas' plan. As he ran down the hallway, in the complete darkness, he bumped onto someone on his way out. The other elf made an undistinguishable sound, but the figure could not speak, in fear that his identity could be given away. Ignoring the angry grumbles of the voice behind, the figure made his way out of the winding tunnels and into the opening. Then, it ran for the horse pen. Without a moment's delay, it took out the first horse, also the closest horse to the main dwelling of Mirkwood, but he had the unfortunate luck to come upon Luranor. Not used to be ridden by anyone but Legolas, Luranor gave an angry whinny of protest and reared up when the figure tried to pull it out of the horse pen. Suddenly, elven voices came from nearby. Some elves passing by heard Luranor's angry whinny.
Cursing softly, the figure kicked Luranor, which earned him another whinny, as Luranor pranced around, and sent the hay flying in every which direction.
The figure grabbed the next horse, left, and disappeared into the dark night.
"We have an urgent matter at hand!" One elf stood up immediately, and began his speech. Tired, Legolas sat back down and rubbed at his temples impatiently. Sometimes he considered his kind to be wise, other times, they are without reason the most impatient and rash race in middle-earth. The elf saw his actions and stood waiting. Not bothering to hurry, Legolas continued to rub his temple for a few seconds, then put down his hand slowly, and fixed the speaking elf with a stare. The elf cleared his throat and began. "The murder of Lord Thranduil cannot be passed just like this! Some action must be taken! The arrow was one of that of Gondor, formerly under the rule of lord Aragorn, who is now the lord..." he sneered. "A refugee lord, apparently."
"Objection!" Another elf shot up, rigid with rage. "That is outright disrespect towards the king of men!"
Suddenly, every elf there seemed to have taken a side, as they all stood up in a hurry, and the meeting abruptly turned into a shouting session. Legolas rolled his eyes impatiently and banged down very hard on his table. His hand hurt, but it had its effect. The noise stopped immediately as all the elves looked at him. Some older elves were about to object when they remembered that he was the king now. Grumpily, still glaring at the opposition, both sides sat down.
"Our objective is not to discuss the matter of men; this meeting is for discussing the death of Thranduil! For further actions, let us not result to lowly name-calling like children!" Legolas could feel the sound wave of his voice traveling in every direction. At that instant, his face was hard. He was no longer the young prince, but a lord of elves. Regally, he sat back down onto the chair and leaned back, worn-out. His eyes surveyed the room, and every pair of eyes looked back with respect. "Please continue, speaker, but no more disrespect."
"Yes, m'lord." The elf looked flustered, but only for a brief second. He was recomposed almost immediately, and began. "Men these days grows weak, they have ruined much, and taken even more. As a last resort to end this long growing tension, I ... I suggest war."
Even though the last suggestion was bold and sudden, no one found it surprising. It had been a common topic inside everyone's head. Nobody dared to voice it before, but the tension was growing. Ever since the death of Haldir, there had been rumors of humans sabotaging Haldir as a reason of his death. The tension grew so large that it seemed to loom over all inhabitants of middle-earth. The dwarves had excluded themselves back into their mountain caves again, preferring to stay out of this entirely. The speaker cleared his throat again, and looked around the room once before sitting back down. Instantaneously, another several hands rose. Legolas acknowledged Halden, Haldir's brother.
"There is no reason not to go to war." He said calmly. "I even would support war, for there had been rumors that my brother was sabotaged by humans. But... war is not a wise alternative. We must carefully consider the results of a full-grown war if warfare ever has its toll on us. We must cautiously collect evidence before making any moves. There must be a justified cause for war, and an arrow is not enough proof. Any creature on middle-earth might have gotten an arrow from Gondor. For as far as we know, these arrows are all over middle-earth."
Legolas let out a small sigh. 'Just what I wanted to say.' He thought. 'And even better, he has his supporters. I am in a more precarious situation than he is, and with him on my side, I can securely be the king and rule over Mirkwood, hopefully preventing warfare.'
"I agree with the suggestion of Halden, that careful investigation and negotiations should set forth before the outright war. We do have alternatives." Another spoke up. The tension suddenly grew to a dangerous level. Seeing another storm on the horizon, Legolas wasted no time in raising his hand for silence.
A few elves started to shout anyway. It was only days after Thranduil's death, and the elves were not yet used to being under the command of someone so young. Only few noticed Legolas' upraised hand and remained silent. The heated debate merely started before the shouting elves realized that something was wrong. They slowly looked towards the seat of the king, saw Legolas with his hand raised, it was as if the storm had came to an abrupt end.
"I suggest let the king have a word. He is, after all, the heir of the throne, the rightful king at the current moment!" Someone said softly from the assembly.
Legolas was hoping this moment would not come. He was not yet ready to take a stance. His feelings and his friendship for Aragorn held back his will to avenge his father, and yet if he ordered careful investigation, this would postpone the actions taken for his father's death, and it would anger many. If the war started, someway or another, Legolas knew that the dwarves would be pulled into this. After all, they were a major part of life force on middle-earth. And how many wizards would take side with the elves? With men? And what destruction would this cause for the hobbits? The Ents? Too many questions, too many concerns. Legolas felt torn between the need and pride of his kind, and the emotional attachment for the other races who had shown themselves worthy, through the participation of one or more of their kind in the fellowship. If there's something that would clear this all up, it is a conversation with Aragorn, and yet Aragorn is not here. Legolas also dearly wished for the council and advice of Mithrandir, but he is with the hobbits. Mithrandir...
"I shall seek advice from Mithrandir." Legolas said, loud enough for the whole hall to hear. Though displeased that no actions were taken immediately, most elves had enough respect for Gandalf to keep their discontentment to themselves. Some were even glad, because the war was, if not annulled, delayed to say the least.
"Does your highness have ways of reaching Mithrandir?" Someone dared a question from the crowd. Legolas knew, from the murmur that arose, that if he did not have a response fast enough, there would be much arguing over this matter.
"I will personally ride to consult him. He should be in the Shire right now, amongst the ring-bearers, the knight of Gondor, and the Rider of Rohan."
Subconsciously, Legolas felt the ring under his fingers. The ring has a stamp on top, it was the mark of the king of Mirkwood. That ring was the very symbol of the king, as the crown is to a human king. Since his father died, the ring had been conveniently passed down to him, and yet, right now, Legolas could almost fully understand the responsibility and burden the ring carried.
"Who shall be in charge in your absence, my lord?" Halden asked boldly. This time, instead of another wave of mutters, the hall was silent. With the superb hearing of the elves, Legolas could easily hear the chirping of the crickets outside. Nobody even dared to breath, for this moment was of utmost importance. Elves, though graceful creatures, politic just as much as humans, if not more. Involuntarily, many in the hall eyed the silver ring on Legolas' finger. Everybody was thinking it, Halden just had enough courage to ask it.
'If you would only understand the burden.' Legolas thought to himself. "I shall place Sarlan in charge, are there any objections? If yes, speak now, for this chance comes and passes." He then said.
Grumbles could be heard throughout the hall. Sarlan stood in shock, surprise clearly written all over his face. He had known that he was one of the possible candidates for the temporary throne, but he had many competitors. He, being senior, and one of the most adept at politicking and usage of magic, was also a brilliant tactician. However, there are many others who qualify just as much, if not more. Halden, brother of Haldir, qualified just as much.
"Do you, Sarlan, son of Galaden, accept this heavy responsibility to carry out the temporary role of the king, while keeping your place?"
"I do." With as much gravity and seriousness as he could manage, Sarlan gave a humble bow, as he went to take his place beside the king.
"If there are any objections, speak up now, for this is the final moment of indecision before the fate of the woods rests on this man's shoulders?"
One of the most influential elf tentatively raised his hand, but only as his head. Knowing the discomfort and taking full advantage of it, Legolas pretended not to notice, and made one brief sweep around the hall, before announcing, "The decision is final, then, From here forth, I shall be your king, but he shall be your regent king. I have power over him, yet he holds command over you all. Good night, may your rests be well, tomorrow shall be a long day."
And with that formal conclusion, the meeting ended. The assembly broke apart and went towards each of their different sections. It had always been customary for the king to be the last to leave, so Legolas stayed on his cushioned seat and watch the entire group disintegrate, grumbling and murmuring to each other. The hall was soon silent, except for one. Halden had stayed behind, perhaps in hope of talking with Legolas. With a sigh, Legolas stood up regally and beckoned towards Halden with an imperious sign. With a bow, Halden walked forward.
"My lord..." Halden only just began when he was immediately cut off by Legolas' wave of his hand.
"Do not call me that, for there are only the two of us left here. You are what I would call a very close friend, my only reliable council, so please do not use the formal title. I wish for a friend to discuss with, not another royal politician." Legolas told him, signaling that he should sit where Sarlan sat a few minutes ago.
Without signs of astonish, Halden sat down.
"You do understand, Halden, why I had chosen Sarlan instead of you, even though you are more qualified for the position?"
"I understand, Legolas."
Satisfied that Halden referred to him by his name, Legolas continued. "You are senior, loyal, and one of the wisest elf I've ever met, and yet, also because of that, I would like to have your advice on special matters. Sarlan is quite conservative, like his father before him, so I thought it was wise to put him in charge. He would not start the war without my permission, and he would carefully consider things before acting upon them."
"Legolas, you wish for me to accompany you?"
"Something had began, and yet I do not know what it is." Legolas said, deeply troubled. "Something big, that overshadows all else. This time, though, I feel as if we have a fighting chance, for we fight not against some unconquerable high lord, but merely Orcs, Orcs with magic. It is a battle, but something is amiss. I have my suspicions, but I must consult with Mithrandir, for his wisdom may proof to be valuable, yet again."
"There is something else." Halden noted, looking at Legolas' expression. Legolas deeply appreciated this acute sense of judgment, it was one of many of Halden's miraculous traits.
"We must save Aragorn. For if he stayed within the reach of the Orcs, then they may full well take his garments to threaten Lady Arwen, whose feelings for Aragorn had been proven thousand times over. And if that happens, the elves would not be the only race in danger, and furthermore, there would be no Aragorn's advice and trusty sword to rely on. To prevent something like this from happening, we must save Aragorn first."
"Save Aragorn? Orcs?" Halden was momentarily confused, but he figured it out soon enough, and gave a sharp intake of breath. "That is a perilous situation. I fear that if we were to accomplish this task by ourselves... it would prove to be difficult."
"We must, Halden." Legolas replied. He had seen this coming, and knew full well the things at risk, but he understood what was at stake. "For some reason, the Orcs are keeping the capture of Aragorn a secret, probably to use it later as an element of surprise to their advantage. The more people knows about Aragorn's capture, the more dangerous the situation is. The elves... you saw the reactions in the hall today ... might see this as a great opportunity to start war, and even Sarlan may not hold. The humans ... they may go into panic. Rumors tend to spread the fastest amidst the humans, and they will throw themselves into needless panic, and the dwarves has no reason to be pulled into this all."
Halden did not speak a word, but merely listened and nodded. By the end, he gave a final nod, as if taking this all in. His eyes showed that he still had certain doubts, but a deep sense of royalty in the Greenleaf family made him choke back all words of complaint.
"Young, yet wise for your age. You have certainly taken the time to consider all possibilities, Legolas." He said finally, while Legolas gave a slight smile. "Let us hope that we survive this all, then we shall truly see how wise you are."
"We take Lythran's path, then cross the Anduin river into Lothlorien, that should keep us away from the major force of the Orcs in Lothlorien, as far as I gathered from my last visit there." Legolas said, moving into the action plan. He did not wish to dwindle, for the life of one of his dearest friends lies in peril, and time along can make a big difference.
"We walk?"
"Time does not allow us to walk. We must ride. I know..." Legolas stated, looking at the bewildered expression on Halden's face. "I know that the condition of Lythran's path is very bad for horses, but we must ride. Time is running short, we have no alternatives."
Halden nodded. Then, seeing that Legolas was unwilling to speak more on this matter, he put in his own thoughts. "It seemed that the Orcs are massing, and they have more reasons than just simply to capture and kill lord Aragorn."
"So it seems. I suspect something is afoot, but that will depend upon the intelligence of the new breed of Orcs. If they are smart enough and capable...we may be faced with yet another war."
Tired, and completely drained of energy, Legolas rubbed at his temples again and made it for the king's chamber. It was his fathers, and now, it was his. When he was little, Legolas enjoyed walking into the room, and staring up at the splendor of it all. The wooden walls polished to shine like marble, the large writing desk with the eagle quill pen, the enormous bed with velvet covers. It was luxury, and he longed to one day own it, but now as he walked towards his childhood dream, the weight of it all fell heavily onto his shoulders. Everything in the room, every corner, every shadow, reminded him of his father. He left his father for the fellowship of the ring, returned only briefly after the fellowship, before leaving for the glittering caves with Gimli. Upon leaving the caves, they were both on their way back home when the Orcs stampeded Minas Tirith, the temporary resting place of Aragorn. Regretting not being able to see his father before his death, Legolas walked gloomily towards the giant wooden desk. It was made of cedar, polished with the finest oils. Moodily, he ran his fingertips lightly over the top, feeling the smooth, cold wood beneath his fingers, lost deep in thought of his father.
It might have been foresight, but Legolas knew. Before long, another war will begin. It was just a feeling, but it lodged itself deep within Legolas' heart. He tried to imagine what would have happened if this all had not happened, if the Orcs simply disbanded, leaving middle-earth in peace. He would have gone to Fangorn with Gimli, then taken a group of his father's people to Ithilien, and make it, once again, the most beautiful place on middle-earth. 'Yes, my father's people.' He thought grimly. 'I do not believe it was a human who killed my father. My father would still have been alive if the Orcs were not here.' He would, then, take his heart's dream, and sail the seas. Of course, that would mean leaving Gimli behind, but it was something Legolas had his heart set on going, and nothing was going to change that.
Silently, a figure behind the door left, seeing that no more could be heard from Legolas' plan. As he ran down the hallway, in the complete darkness, he bumped onto someone on his way out. The other elf made an undistinguishable sound, but the figure could not speak, in fear that his identity could be given away. Ignoring the angry grumbles of the voice behind, the figure made his way out of the winding tunnels and into the opening. Then, it ran for the horse pen. Without a moment's delay, it took out the first horse, also the closest horse to the main dwelling of Mirkwood, but he had the unfortunate luck to come upon Luranor. Not used to be ridden by anyone but Legolas, Luranor gave an angry whinny of protest and reared up when the figure tried to pull it out of the horse pen. Suddenly, elven voices came from nearby. Some elves passing by heard Luranor's angry whinny.
Cursing softly, the figure kicked Luranor, which earned him another whinny, as Luranor pranced around, and sent the hay flying in every which direction.
The figure grabbed the next horse, left, and disappeared into the dark night.