Chapter 8
"If it isn't a pretty little elfling," growled a deep voice above Legolas's head. A clawed hand grabbed the prince's hair, jerking his head back violently. A crude broad blade slipped under his neck. "A pretty prince elfling, by the looks of it," the orc remarked, catching sight of Legolas's white knife and kicking it away. "Haven't had that in such a long time…"
Legolas ground his teeth together in frustration. He felt so stupid for allowing himself to be caught like this. During all his years of training, one of the main principles they were drilled with was not to get caught in this exact sort of situation. I've failed that one, he thought bitterly, just like I've failed everything else.
The knife pressed harder against his skin; Legolas could feel the droplets of blood oozing out. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Legolas saw a figure fly out of the dark. The orc was knocked off his back, and he heard the sound of clashing metal. The prince rolled over onto his back. He could see who had saved him, it was Adrahil. The orc now lay dead on the forest ground.
The crown prince offered his younger brother his hand. Legolas took it and got to his feet. He winced sharply as his brother's fingers brushed over his arm, where he had been burnt, but tried to conceal it. Adrahil had seen is expression.
"What is it?" asked the elder sharply.
"I – nothing. I landed on my arm," answered Legolas. Before his brother could utter another word, he ran off into the woods, in search of orcs.
Adrahil frowned, and then sighed, following his brother's lead.
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Legolas swung his blade at an orc, decapitating it easily. He ducked as the first body fell, avoiding a blade aimed at his head. The prince spun, plunging his knife into the attacker. He turned, blade raised, meeting another orc's sword. In a swift upward motion, he swung free of his opponent's blade, stepped and brought his knife into the orc, all in the blink of an eye.
The sharp whistling sound of an arrow shot towards the prince. This time he heard it. Legolas turned and swept his knife, knocking the arrow away in midair.
He moved into the wide clearing where his brothers were. Bodies were strewn across the ground, blood staining the ground black and red. Nonetheless, it seemed as if the army of orcs had not dwindled in the least. There was far more orcs than elves.
The four brothers fought alongside each other, defending each other's backs. They drove forward ferociously, taking no mercy on the onslaught of orcs. Their faces and tunics were stained red with blood and black with ash.
Legolas brought his knife down on an orc's head, cleaving its skull. He felt a body sag against him and spun defensively. It was an orc- Brethilorn had just slain it with a well placed arrow to the throat.
The Adrenaline rush that had kept the princes fighting tirelessly was dying down, and they were losing energy. Most of their men had fallen, and they themselves were not uninjured either.
They were slowly driven back as they gave up ground to the pressing orcs. Adrahil, Brethilorn, Thalion, and Legolas stood in a circle, back to back, the remaining guards circling them. Yet there seemed to be no end to the orcs; for every one killed, it seemed as if there were two to take its place. The situation was hopeless.
They exchanged a single glance that all four understood. This was the end. There was no way out. Yet the brothers refused to give up without taking last one stand. They would die fighting. Die fighting together. Die fighting side-by-side.
A single cry erupted from the brothers' throats. They rushed forward as one, white knives glinting with dark blood in the moonlight, raised above their heads. They tore into the mass of orcs as a single deadly force, parrying and stabbing.
Legolas looked about him at his brothers, tears stinging his eyes. Brethilorn fought with a large orc. He lashed out his leg, tripping the creature and plunged his knife into the beast. Thalion was shooting at the orcs, using the arrows to defend himself a as swords as well as attack. Adrahil was in the very heart of the battle, not far from Legolas. The eldest prince was engaged in the battle with an enormous, seemingly the leader, not seeing the pair of orcs moving to attack him from behind. But Legolas saw them. The youngest son of Thranduil battled his way to his brother's side just as the two orcs reached him.
Legolas met the attackers' blades with his own, the energy of the blades clashing running down his arm. He stepped to the left, turning, and knocked one orc's feet out from under him. Legolas then spun and ducked as the other orc tried to decapitate him. He stepped behind the orc, shoving it into the first and burying his knife through both.
In the fury of the battle, Legolas had not seen the attack aimed at himself. As he pulled his knife out, an orc blade swung out of nowhere, and cut into his side.
Legolas cried out in pain as the blade was drawn. There was the metallic scent of blood in his mouth. He fell to his knees, head spinning with pain like he had never known. The battle passed on before his eyes. His blood spilled out hot and sticky onto his hand. His eyes slowly fluttered shut, the world disappearing into utter darkness. Legolas fell to the ground, unmoving.
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Deana – You were dead on! When some of my friends read it, they were all like, "You killed Legolas?!?!" (and they were really mad – us Orli fans, ya know) ;)
Zammy – I'm trying… I think I'm having writer's block. @_@
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A/N: Maybe you noticed and maybe you didn't, (and you probably don't care anyways…) but I just changed the rating cuz I think that the fighting stuff in these past 3(?) chapters are a little too violent for 'G'. So, yeah.
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