Chapter Two: Reunion in Battle
"Oh, Celronen, please stop hovering, I'm just fine!" Legolas chided, smacking the overprotective warrior away from his as he hauled himself to his feet and brushed off his clothing, casting about for his knives.
Dead Orcs lay strewn across the ground, their blood mingling with the ground, Elven arrows protruding from many of them. Legolas' own quiver was empty. Seeing his knives, Legolas gathered them up and wiped them clean in the grass before resheathing them.
He turned to survey the damage, thankful when he saw no fatalities and no grave injuries among his party. Though he was younger then all the other warriors in the party, Legolas and Celronen, commanded the mission. Something he wasn't keen on but knew was proper.
"Are you wounded, my Lord?" Celronen asked, careful to stay out of range of his liege's arms.
When Legolas glared daggers at the Elf, he smiled and laughed. "All right, Warrior Prince, I shall leave you alone then and see to the others."
Legolas nodded; slightly embarrassed by the title he had been given against his will. But the title had stuck and many of the party had taken to calling him the Warrior Prince. Ai, if only Adar could see me know...he would no doubt be laughing hysterically at that name! the Prince thought. It was true though, he fired more arrows and took down more Orcs and spiders then most of the others, but he still felt like a novice.
Sighing, he fingered a cut in his tunic and was relieved to find no sign of blood. He had escaped this fight with nothing other then cuts and bruises. My luck has held out thus far, I wonder when it will no longer do so.
He cast the thought aside when his keen hearing picked up the sounds of shrieking Orcs. Glancing around, he found Celronen was also looking up with his eyes narrowed. They locked gazes and Legolas picked up his bow and began to quickly gather arrows.
"Retrieve your arrows, there is fighting nearby and we are to go to their aide," the Prince announced, not bothering to stop his task to see if they had heard. The sound of scrambling Elves and the unmistakable squelch of arrows ripped from flesh told him they had heard perfectly fine.
Celronen approached him. "You have better hearing then I, my Lord. Do you hear many? Are they attacking a party?"
Legolas looked up, his quiver now as full as it would be. "I hear many, Celronen and yes I have heard the calls of wounded Elves. We must make haste; I fear they are losing this battle."
Within minutes the whole party was mounted and racing toward the sounds of battle, the clashing and screaming growing louder as they flew across the forest floor, weaving in and out of trees and ducking under low branches.
Legolas and Celronen, in the lead, saw the party first and gasped. It was one of the smaller war parties and nearly half their number lay grievously wounded or dead. Those remaining had long since ran out of arrows and were fighting valiantly hand-to-hand. But the Orcs just kept coming over the rise beyond.
"Quickly! Dismount and form a firing line!" Celronen called, taking control in this because he knew Legolas had no experience with a large scale battle. The Prince looked relieved he had done so.
Stringing their bows, the party crept forward swiftly and at the dropping of Celronen's hand, let loose a deadly volley, striking the exposed Orcs and taking many down. Still, it would not be enough to turn the tide just yet, there were too many Orcs.
Seeing the newcomers, Orcs began to break off and stream toward the Prince's party. Celronen called for them to fire at will and when the Orcs were close enough, he yelled, "Charge!"
Within seconds the two war parties of Mirkwood would fighting side by side, trying to turn the tide against the Orcs. Legolas, deftly slashing and stabbing with his knives now, was covered in Orc blood, as well as some of his own. He did not slow or lose strength, he knew this was a desperate battle and he could not afford to slow up for a second.
Then, someone caught his eye. A tall, blond Elf was battling three Orcs, valiantly holding his own but obviously tiring and losing the battle.
"Father!" Legolas whispered, unable to breath for a second. He watched the Elvenking weave a deadly pattern with his sword, but he could also see the numerous cuts and bloody patches on the Elf's tunic.
He needed help. And he needed it now.
Cutting his way toward the King, Legolas knew better then to call out to him. It would only distract his father. He would never call to a warrior unless there was danger behind him and then he would only shout, 'Beware'.
As he battled another Orc with a broadsword, Legolas saw his father stumble and just barely parry a blow. Now or never, he thought. Quickly dispatching the nearest Orcs, Legolas whipped his bow from his back, a rather foolish act in the midst of a battle, but he was on the outskirts near the tree line and felt he had to.
Stripping a fletching from one arrow, Legolas strung two of them and fired, watching tensely as they soared to his father's aide, impacting the two orcs that remained. By now the battle had begun to die down and the Elves had the upper hand.
Legolas breathed in relief. Thranduil, seeing the familiar fletchings, turned toward his benefactor. Seeing Legolas along the tree line he smiled lightly. The smile was returned, but then the King saw the threat behind his son.
A particularly large Orc with a sword in hand was stalking up behind the Prince. "Legolas! Beware!" he shouted.
Thranduil watched in horror as Legolas' eyes widened and he spun on his heel, discarding his bow as he did and moving to grab a knife. But not quick enough, the call had come too late.
Legolas grunted as the sword was thrust into his side. Fire tore through him and he jerked, looking up at the Orc and swaying a little. He vaguely heard his father's anguished scream.
The Orc, unhappy that Legolas still stood, pushed forward more, drawing a screech from the Elf, but nothing more. He spun him around by pulling on the blade and Legolas was now facing the dwindling fight and his father's running figure.
His view of his father was momentarily blocked as the Orc maneuvered him backwards. Legolas struggled now, painful cries escaping his lips as he tried to hold the Orc back.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, an ugly, black arrow flew toward them and hit Legolas in the left shoulder. He jerked and fell back against a tree, where the Orc had been trying to push him.
Looking up once more, he saw a wicked smile on the Orcs hideous face as it leaned forward quickly, forcing the sword through his side into the tree behind him until the hilt and six inches of blade was all that was left in front of him. And this time, Legolas' scream rang out.
He was panting, breath coming in hitching sobs as wave after wave of pain wracked his body. Then, the Orc crumbled, his body cleaved in two. Thranduil appeared where he had been, his bow broken in two and his sword in one hand.
"LEGOLAS!" he screamed, reaching out for his son. "No...not my son...not my son." He chanted, tears pouring unbidden from his eyes.
Celronen hurried over with some of the remaining warriors and they gasped in horror. "Valar, it's the Prince!" he cried, unable to believe that his young liege was pinned to a tree by a disgusting Orc blade.
Being an accomplished healer, he pushed Thranduil aside a step and tipped Legolas head up, frowning when the young Elf's glazed eyes opened and he groaned. Thranduil balked at his son's consciousness. He could see the pain in those fathomless blue-grey eyes.
Celronen knew that the only reason the Prince still stood was the blade pinning him up. He looked at the sword, realizing that it was deeply buried in the tree behind the young Prince. He didn't think any of them had the strength to pull it from the tree.
Now they had a dilemma. They needed to get Legolas down and treat his wounds, but they couldn't pull the sword from the tree, it was buried too deeply. Thranduil must have realized this as well and he looked with imploring eyes to Celronen.
"What do we do? How do we get him down?"
The assembled warriors could not have been more surprised when their Prince answered them in a shaky, barely perceptible voice. "Break it...break off the part in the tree."
He turned pain-filled eyes on Thranduil, silently begging him to do as he asked. Nodding once, Thranduil moved in front of his son and reached a hand behind him to grab the blade in front and behind the Prince.
Then, holding Legolas tightly and bracing himself, the Elvenking gathered all his strength and flung himself and Legolas to the left, hearing a loud snap and the scream of his son. Legolas slumped into him, the blade still within him, but now he was no longer against the tree.
Thranduil lowered the Prince down, looking on in worry as blood trickled from his son's mouth and the young Elf gasped more and more frequently. His eyes were dark with pain and had taken on a lackluster glaze.
Blood covered the front of the tunic from both the ugly arrow and the sword. Celronen knew both had to be removed. Though he was loath to do it when the Prince was conscious; he knew it was best to keep him that way lest he never wake again.
"My lord, I will need you and another warrior to hold him down. This isn't going to be pleasant," Celronen said with worry as he cut away the tunic from the arrow wound first. "The sooner we get them out the better, I worry about poison."
Thranduil's head snapped up and he locked eyes with Celronen. Then, he looked back down and gently, but firmly gathered his son's head and shoulders against his chest, grabbing both the Elf's arms and pinning them. Another warrior, shaking as the Prince watched him with weary eyes, sat aside the Elf's legs and effectively held them down as well.
Legolas was shaking now, his body fighting against his will as it tried to shut down. "Hold on, ion nin," Thranduil whispered, resting his chin on Legolas head. "All will be well. Celronen is a good healer, he will help you."
The Prince did not relax exactly, but Thranduil heard the change in his breathing as he tried to control it. Looking to Celronen, he and the other warrior nodded their readiness and the other Elves went to look to the wounded and dead, leaving the four alone.
Seeing Celronen grasp the arrow in his left shoulder, Legolas looked up and caught his father's eyes. They held each other's gaze until Celronen yanked and Legolas' snapped shut as he jerked and cried out.
Thranduil's tears let loose then, dropping into the golden hair of his son. "Please hurry, Celronen. I can not bear this much longer," the Elvenking whispered before he began to speak soothing Elvish words to his son.
Celronen again frowned as he asked Thranduil to help staunch the bleeding in the shoulder. Nodding, the King locked Legolas' left arm under his leg and held the wound with his now free hand. Legolas jerked at the pressure, but did not struggle.
"Now for the hard part," Celronen mumbled as he moved to the Prince's right side where the sword hilt protruded. Eying the ugly handle with disgust, he grabbed hold and steeled himself for the pain he was about to cause the Prince.
Looking into Thranduil's eyes he saw only acceptance at the pain he was causing. The King was wise and even in his distress he knew this was best for Legolas. "Go ahead. We have him," he whispered, encouraging the distraught healer to go on.
Legolas squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, knowing this would hurt. Then, it came and he screamed, thrashing against the pain and nearly dislodging his father and the warrior holding him.
Celronen leaned in, holding him down and putting pressure on the wound at the same time. He knew that the Prince had precious little time. Grabbing athelas that another warrior had prepared, Celronen gently but firmly pressed it to the gaping sword wound as he had done with the arrow; withdrawing a hiss from Legolas.
The other warrior stood from his place on the Prince's legs and helped Thranduil sit Legolas up so Celronen could reach the exit wound. By now Legolas could barely breath and his head was swimming. He had grown rather numb, which surprised him, barely feeling any pain. But he was freezing and shivering.
Celronen, seeing the shaking Elf, took a deep breath. "We must get him to a real healer, My Lord. I fear I can not save him from these wounds. I would advise Lothlorien, it is closest and the Lady is a gifted healer."
Thranduil nodded, willing to do anything to save his only son. "Legolas, hold on, ion nin. We will get you to Lady Galadriel. Just stay awake."
Legolas moaned at that, wishing nothing more then to go to sleep. He felt his father light him and stifled a cry. Soon, he was atop his father's horse and they were making as fast as possible for the Golden Wood, the warriors not making a sound as they saw the Prince's condition.
"I hope he makes it...this will kill the King and Queen if he does not," one commented as the bloodied father and son, now reunited, hurried toward Lothlorien.
Thranduil cried out in anger and anguish as they breached the borders of Lothlorien. "No, wake up!"
But Legolas was far from there and did not hear his father's pleas.
A/N: I REPOSTED this to the website because it seemed like when I looked at the story the end of the post was cut off! I don't know if it was to all of you, but it cut it off in mid SENTENCE. So THIS is the new Chapter 2.
"Oh, Celronen, please stop hovering, I'm just fine!" Legolas chided, smacking the overprotective warrior away from his as he hauled himself to his feet and brushed off his clothing, casting about for his knives.
Dead Orcs lay strewn across the ground, their blood mingling with the ground, Elven arrows protruding from many of them. Legolas' own quiver was empty. Seeing his knives, Legolas gathered them up and wiped them clean in the grass before resheathing them.
He turned to survey the damage, thankful when he saw no fatalities and no grave injuries among his party. Though he was younger then all the other warriors in the party, Legolas and Celronen, commanded the mission. Something he wasn't keen on but knew was proper.
"Are you wounded, my Lord?" Celronen asked, careful to stay out of range of his liege's arms.
When Legolas glared daggers at the Elf, he smiled and laughed. "All right, Warrior Prince, I shall leave you alone then and see to the others."
Legolas nodded; slightly embarrassed by the title he had been given against his will. But the title had stuck and many of the party had taken to calling him the Warrior Prince. Ai, if only Adar could see me know...he would no doubt be laughing hysterically at that name! the Prince thought. It was true though, he fired more arrows and took down more Orcs and spiders then most of the others, but he still felt like a novice.
Sighing, he fingered a cut in his tunic and was relieved to find no sign of blood. He had escaped this fight with nothing other then cuts and bruises. My luck has held out thus far, I wonder when it will no longer do so.
He cast the thought aside when his keen hearing picked up the sounds of shrieking Orcs. Glancing around, he found Celronen was also looking up with his eyes narrowed. They locked gazes and Legolas picked up his bow and began to quickly gather arrows.
"Retrieve your arrows, there is fighting nearby and we are to go to their aide," the Prince announced, not bothering to stop his task to see if they had heard. The sound of scrambling Elves and the unmistakable squelch of arrows ripped from flesh told him they had heard perfectly fine.
Celronen approached him. "You have better hearing then I, my Lord. Do you hear many? Are they attacking a party?"
Legolas looked up, his quiver now as full as it would be. "I hear many, Celronen and yes I have heard the calls of wounded Elves. We must make haste; I fear they are losing this battle."
Within minutes the whole party was mounted and racing toward the sounds of battle, the clashing and screaming growing louder as they flew across the forest floor, weaving in and out of trees and ducking under low branches.
Legolas and Celronen, in the lead, saw the party first and gasped. It was one of the smaller war parties and nearly half their number lay grievously wounded or dead. Those remaining had long since ran out of arrows and were fighting valiantly hand-to-hand. But the Orcs just kept coming over the rise beyond.
"Quickly! Dismount and form a firing line!" Celronen called, taking control in this because he knew Legolas had no experience with a large scale battle. The Prince looked relieved he had done so.
Stringing their bows, the party crept forward swiftly and at the dropping of Celronen's hand, let loose a deadly volley, striking the exposed Orcs and taking many down. Still, it would not be enough to turn the tide just yet, there were too many Orcs.
Seeing the newcomers, Orcs began to break off and stream toward the Prince's party. Celronen called for them to fire at will and when the Orcs were close enough, he yelled, "Charge!"
Within seconds the two war parties of Mirkwood would fighting side by side, trying to turn the tide against the Orcs. Legolas, deftly slashing and stabbing with his knives now, was covered in Orc blood, as well as some of his own. He did not slow or lose strength, he knew this was a desperate battle and he could not afford to slow up for a second.
Then, someone caught his eye. A tall, blond Elf was battling three Orcs, valiantly holding his own but obviously tiring and losing the battle.
"Father!" Legolas whispered, unable to breath for a second. He watched the Elvenking weave a deadly pattern with his sword, but he could also see the numerous cuts and bloody patches on the Elf's tunic.
He needed help. And he needed it now.
Cutting his way toward the King, Legolas knew better then to call out to him. It would only distract his father. He would never call to a warrior unless there was danger behind him and then he would only shout, 'Beware'.
As he battled another Orc with a broadsword, Legolas saw his father stumble and just barely parry a blow. Now or never, he thought. Quickly dispatching the nearest Orcs, Legolas whipped his bow from his back, a rather foolish act in the midst of a battle, but he was on the outskirts near the tree line and felt he had to.
Stripping a fletching from one arrow, Legolas strung two of them and fired, watching tensely as they soared to his father's aide, impacting the two orcs that remained. By now the battle had begun to die down and the Elves had the upper hand.
Legolas breathed in relief. Thranduil, seeing the familiar fletchings, turned toward his benefactor. Seeing Legolas along the tree line he smiled lightly. The smile was returned, but then the King saw the threat behind his son.
A particularly large Orc with a sword in hand was stalking up behind the Prince. "Legolas! Beware!" he shouted.
Thranduil watched in horror as Legolas' eyes widened and he spun on his heel, discarding his bow as he did and moving to grab a knife. But not quick enough, the call had come too late.
Legolas grunted as the sword was thrust into his side. Fire tore through him and he jerked, looking up at the Orc and swaying a little. He vaguely heard his father's anguished scream.
The Orc, unhappy that Legolas still stood, pushed forward more, drawing a screech from the Elf, but nothing more. He spun him around by pulling on the blade and Legolas was now facing the dwindling fight and his father's running figure.
His view of his father was momentarily blocked as the Orc maneuvered him backwards. Legolas struggled now, painful cries escaping his lips as he tried to hold the Orc back.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, an ugly, black arrow flew toward them and hit Legolas in the left shoulder. He jerked and fell back against a tree, where the Orc had been trying to push him.
Looking up once more, he saw a wicked smile on the Orcs hideous face as it leaned forward quickly, forcing the sword through his side into the tree behind him until the hilt and six inches of blade was all that was left in front of him. And this time, Legolas' scream rang out.
He was panting, breath coming in hitching sobs as wave after wave of pain wracked his body. Then, the Orc crumbled, his body cleaved in two. Thranduil appeared where he had been, his bow broken in two and his sword in one hand.
"LEGOLAS!" he screamed, reaching out for his son. "No...not my son...not my son." He chanted, tears pouring unbidden from his eyes.
Celronen hurried over with some of the remaining warriors and they gasped in horror. "Valar, it's the Prince!" he cried, unable to believe that his young liege was pinned to a tree by a disgusting Orc blade.
Being an accomplished healer, he pushed Thranduil aside a step and tipped Legolas head up, frowning when the young Elf's glazed eyes opened and he groaned. Thranduil balked at his son's consciousness. He could see the pain in those fathomless blue-grey eyes.
Celronen knew that the only reason the Prince still stood was the blade pinning him up. He looked at the sword, realizing that it was deeply buried in the tree behind the young Prince. He didn't think any of them had the strength to pull it from the tree.
Now they had a dilemma. They needed to get Legolas down and treat his wounds, but they couldn't pull the sword from the tree, it was buried too deeply. Thranduil must have realized this as well and he looked with imploring eyes to Celronen.
"What do we do? How do we get him down?"
The assembled warriors could not have been more surprised when their Prince answered them in a shaky, barely perceptible voice. "Break it...break off the part in the tree."
He turned pain-filled eyes on Thranduil, silently begging him to do as he asked. Nodding once, Thranduil moved in front of his son and reached a hand behind him to grab the blade in front and behind the Prince.
Then, holding Legolas tightly and bracing himself, the Elvenking gathered all his strength and flung himself and Legolas to the left, hearing a loud snap and the scream of his son. Legolas slumped into him, the blade still within him, but now he was no longer against the tree.
Thranduil lowered the Prince down, looking on in worry as blood trickled from his son's mouth and the young Elf gasped more and more frequently. His eyes were dark with pain and had taken on a lackluster glaze.
Blood covered the front of the tunic from both the ugly arrow and the sword. Celronen knew both had to be removed. Though he was loath to do it when the Prince was conscious; he knew it was best to keep him that way lest he never wake again.
"My lord, I will need you and another warrior to hold him down. This isn't going to be pleasant," Celronen said with worry as he cut away the tunic from the arrow wound first. "The sooner we get them out the better, I worry about poison."
Thranduil's head snapped up and he locked eyes with Celronen. Then, he looked back down and gently, but firmly gathered his son's head and shoulders against his chest, grabbing both the Elf's arms and pinning them. Another warrior, shaking as the Prince watched him with weary eyes, sat aside the Elf's legs and effectively held them down as well.
Legolas was shaking now, his body fighting against his will as it tried to shut down. "Hold on, ion nin," Thranduil whispered, resting his chin on Legolas head. "All will be well. Celronen is a good healer, he will help you."
The Prince did not relax exactly, but Thranduil heard the change in his breathing as he tried to control it. Looking to Celronen, he and the other warrior nodded their readiness and the other Elves went to look to the wounded and dead, leaving the four alone.
Seeing Celronen grasp the arrow in his left shoulder, Legolas looked up and caught his father's eyes. They held each other's gaze until Celronen yanked and Legolas' snapped shut as he jerked and cried out.
Thranduil's tears let loose then, dropping into the golden hair of his son. "Please hurry, Celronen. I can not bear this much longer," the Elvenking whispered before he began to speak soothing Elvish words to his son.
Celronen again frowned as he asked Thranduil to help staunch the bleeding in the shoulder. Nodding, the King locked Legolas' left arm under his leg and held the wound with his now free hand. Legolas jerked at the pressure, but did not struggle.
"Now for the hard part," Celronen mumbled as he moved to the Prince's right side where the sword hilt protruded. Eying the ugly handle with disgust, he grabbed hold and steeled himself for the pain he was about to cause the Prince.
Looking into Thranduil's eyes he saw only acceptance at the pain he was causing. The King was wise and even in his distress he knew this was best for Legolas. "Go ahead. We have him," he whispered, encouraging the distraught healer to go on.
Legolas squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, knowing this would hurt. Then, it came and he screamed, thrashing against the pain and nearly dislodging his father and the warrior holding him.
Celronen leaned in, holding him down and putting pressure on the wound at the same time. He knew that the Prince had precious little time. Grabbing athelas that another warrior had prepared, Celronen gently but firmly pressed it to the gaping sword wound as he had done with the arrow; withdrawing a hiss from Legolas.
The other warrior stood from his place on the Prince's legs and helped Thranduil sit Legolas up so Celronen could reach the exit wound. By now Legolas could barely breath and his head was swimming. He had grown rather numb, which surprised him, barely feeling any pain. But he was freezing and shivering.
Celronen, seeing the shaking Elf, took a deep breath. "We must get him to a real healer, My Lord. I fear I can not save him from these wounds. I would advise Lothlorien, it is closest and the Lady is a gifted healer."
Thranduil nodded, willing to do anything to save his only son. "Legolas, hold on, ion nin. We will get you to Lady Galadriel. Just stay awake."
Legolas moaned at that, wishing nothing more then to go to sleep. He felt his father light him and stifled a cry. Soon, he was atop his father's horse and they were making as fast as possible for the Golden Wood, the warriors not making a sound as they saw the Prince's condition.
"I hope he makes it...this will kill the King and Queen if he does not," one commented as the bloodied father and son, now reunited, hurried toward Lothlorien.
Thranduil cried out in anger and anguish as they breached the borders of Lothlorien. "No, wake up!"
But Legolas was far from there and did not hear his father's pleas.
A/N: I REPOSTED this to the website because it seemed like when I looked at the story the end of the post was cut off! I don't know if it was to all of you, but it cut it off in mid SENTENCE. So THIS is the new Chapter 2.