The Battle of the Five Armies—an Account by Legolas
I am Legolas Thranduilion. The tale of the Battle of the Five Armies I now recount to you.
It began when my father, Thranduil, king of the Woodland Realm of Mirkwood occupied the surrounding area outside of the Lonely Mountain, inside which were the stubborn, stiff-necked, Dwarves, hoarding the dragon's treasure. We were there not only to get an equal share of the treasure, but also to see to it that the Lake-men who had felled the dragon received their fair share. We had tried negotiating with the Dwarves, but to no avail. Therefore, my father resolved to prevent them from leaving the cave unless they heeded our wishes. We would starve them out, as our forces guarded the perimeter of the cave, and there was no leaving or coming without our consent.
That night four other Elves and I were set to watch down by the ford of the river. The sky was dark, but we were aided by lantern-light. As we silently attended to our duty, out of the night there was a mighty splash near the riverbank. We quickly ran to investigate, searching the area with our lanterns. There was no one there.
"That was no fish!" said Haryosto, one of my closest friends. "There is a spy about. Hide your lights! They will help him more than us, if it is that queer creature that is said to be their servant."
We were startled to hear a voice speak, out of nowhere. "Servant, indeed!"
We stealthfully made our way towards the sound.
"Let's have a light!" the voice spoke again. "I am here if you want me!" A small figure appeared from behind a stone. I swiftly laid hands on him, pointed my spear at his chest, and asked, "Who are you? Are you the Dwarves' hobbit?"
He was soaking wet and shivered as he answered. "I am Bilbo Baggins, companion of Thorin, if you want to know. I know your king well by sight, though perhaps he doesn't know me to look at. But Bard will remember me, and it is Bard I particularly want to see. So if you will please remove your spear, I would very much appreciate it."
"Indeed!" I said, and seeing that he posed no danger, put aside my spear, "And what may be your business?"
He went on to say that it was his own business and that if we ever wished to see our own woods again, we must take him to the king.
I agreed and gave him my cloak, for he shivered terribly from the cold. Then, I led him back to camp, leaving my companions to keep watch, and he warmed himself next to the blazing fire while I went to get my father. The king was speaking to the leader of the Lake-men, Bard, and when I entered his tent, they both started, then relaxed when they saw who it was.
"My son," said the king, "whatever is the matter?"
"The Dwarves' Hobbit is outside and wishes to speak with you. And Bard, as well." They rose, went outside, and strode towards the fire.
"Hullo," said Bilbo.
"Well met," said Thranduil, sitting and motioning for Bard to sit also.
I made my way back into the darkness to find my companions. They were silently watching the ford, nearly motionless. I quietly greeted them and told them what had taken place. We stood guard for several hours, hearing not a sound, until we turned and saw several elf sentries stealthily approaching us. They were accompanied by the hobbit, looking warm and well pleased.
Mablung, the head of the sentries, spoke. "The king has given orders for you to escort the Dwarves' hobbit across the ford. We must return to our posts," he said, turning and walking back into the darkness, the other Elves following. I conducted Bilbo across the river and bid him farewell.
"Goodbye," he said. "What was your name? I have forgotten it."
"Legolas," I smiled. "Namárie." I turned back to the ford. We kept watch for the rest of that night.
The next morning, I learned that Bilbo had given us a very valuable bargaining tool. The Arkenstone of Thrain, a possession the chief of the Dwarves, Thorin, valued higher than the entire treasure itself. I did not accompany the procession of Lake-men and Elves that went to confront the Dwarves, but Haryosto told me soon after what occurred.
The Dwarves had at first grudgingly accepted the terms, but they then had stubbornly resolved to cheat us by taking the stone and swindling us out of the treasure. So my father left them there to contemplate the serious mistake they had made. The company made their way back to camp. We would see if the morning changed their resolve.
I was tormented by fears – fears that were soon to be realized.
The morning came. And with the dawn came the news that an army of savage Dwarves was coming to aid the bedraggled Dwarves holed up in the mountain.
We prepared for battle. I sharpened and polished my curved sword, then strung my bow, making sure none of my arrows was damaged and donning my quiver. We would be ready to meet them when they arrived. And so we were.
The Dwarf-host was seen coming with great haste far off down the mountain. Thranduil gave the order to form battle-lines. We watched them march still closer. Being the king's son, I would be one of the leaders in this battle. I strode to the head of the host and set my gaze sternly and gravely on the approaching Dwarves. To our right stood the Lake-men brandishing their straight swords. Bard stood before them, prepared to lead them into battle. I fingered my sword, but did not yet draw it.
The Dwarves came within a hundred feet of us and halted.
Bard sent messengers to question why they were here.
The reply was, "We are sent from Dain, son of Nain. We are hastening to our kinsmen in the Mountain, since we learn that the kingdom of old is renewed. But who are you that sit in the plain as foes before defended walls?"
Thranduil and Bard consulted together quietly. Suddenly, without warning, the Dwarves brought their assault. I drew forth my blade and waited for the lines to meet. But, everything changed in a second.
Gandalf, who had been staying with us in our camp, rushed between the advancing battle lines and ordered, "Halt! Dread has come upon you all! Alas! It has come more swiftly than I guessed. The Goblins are upon you! Bolg of the North is coming, O Dain! Whose father you slew in Moria. Behold! The bats are above his army like a sea of locusts. They ride upon wolves and Wargs are in their train!"
I turned swiftly to the right. It was exactly as Gandalf had said. All other arguments were at that moment forgotten.
On our side were the Lake-men and Dwarves. On the enemies' side were the Goblins and wolves.
We were the first to charge. My hatred for the Goblins greatly outweighed mine for any other foe. A cold fury was in my eyes as I raised my sword, preparing to bring it down upon a goblin when we met the foul horde of enemies. Ten feet between the lines—the lines met. My sword swept the head off a goblin riding a warg and drove itself into the beast as the elf-host drove back the foes. My blade sang as I whirled it skillfully about me, felling many Goblins. It was then that I lost all sense of fear. My sword glowed with a pale light as it slashed into the Goblin force. I swiftly leapt to the side to avoid the wicked mace of a goblin and drove my sword into his gut. He fell dead.
Now, the Men joined the fray. I heard their battle cries as they struck down line by line the wolves and goblins upon their Wargs. The Dwarves drove in from behind. We had them surrounded. Just as victory had become almost certain, and the last of the Goblins were defeated, I surveyed the surrounding hills. To my chagrin, I saw that the Goblins had climbed the mountain from the other side and were making their way down to the eastern spur. I warned my fellow warriors with a cry and ran to defend my father. I found him on the southern arm of the mountain, the most valiant elf-lords about him defending against the Goblins. I charged forward and leapt upon the largest of the attacking goblins, slitting his throat. I swiftly rose and swung my blade into the Goblins who, being preoccupied fighting the elf-lords, were unable to resist the strokes of the sword. My blade flashed. Two Goblins fell dead. The remaining creatures rushed for me but were quickly subdued. Sheathing my blade, I reached for my bow and then pulled an arrow. Turning, I brought down at least four Goblins and two wolves but decided upon not wasting any more arrows then needed be. I turned to face my father. No more Goblins were seen careening down the slope. The king shouted out a warning, but it was too late. I felt something bite into my back. I stood motionless, unable to say anything, and felt the warm blood trickling down my back. I looked downward. A black dart protruded from my lower chest. My mind faded. Young and strong though I was, I collapsed to the ground and knew no more.
Visions passed before my eyes: visions of the battle, of my father, and the Goblins. Was I dead? I knew not. I believed I had heard cries of, "The eagles are coming! The eagles are coming!" It seemed for many long ages I lay in a state of unconsciousness. I came to myself on the hill where I had fallen. Someone was calling my name.
"Legolas! Legolas! Awaken, my son," it called. I slowly opened my eyes and flinched against the terrible pain I felt in my chest. The voice belonged to my father. A look of relief passed over his face and a tear rolled down his cheek.
"You were pierced by an arrow Legolas," he said. "But the fire of youth still flows in your veins. You will not die."
I glanced down. The dart remained lodged in my chest.
"We are in the midst of a battle. We cannot remove the arrow yet. It would produce an unquenchable blood flow and I have not the tools to control it now. Remain still and once the battle is over, it will be removed." He swiftly ran back to aid the elf-lords in the battle.
I would not heed his order. I slowly regained my feet. The pain worsened but I ignored it. I stared down into the valley. To my amazement, a great bear, the largest I have ever beheld, fought against the Wargs and Goblins tossing and throwing them into the air with his mighty paws. His claws slashed at them; one stroke felled any Goblin he touched, though their scimitars seemed to have no effect on him. Three great eagles soared over my head, down into the valley.
Upon the hill, my father and the lords kept the Goblins at bay. I could not leave the king. I dodged a Goblin arrow and hurriedly ran to join my father. There were now twenty Goblins surrounding them and brandishing evil scimitars. With a cry of, "Gurth gothrim Tel'Quessir!" I fell upon the surprised Goblins from behind, killing two with the first stroke of my sword. Several of the Goblins, enraged, turned away from the elf-lords to fight me. Having quick reflexes, I was easily able to avoid each swing of a scimitar aimed for my body and bring my own blade down upon them. Within a minute, I had killed five. My father stared disapprovingly, yet proudly at me between each stroke of his sword. I killed my seventh Goblin and no more came at me. I looked about. The last few Goblins had retreated.
My father approached me. "Why did you not remain still, as I told you?"
I answered him, "I could not lie idly when my king was in danger." Only one elf-lord, Girion, was killed. Three others were wounded and my father gave the order to return to our army. "The wounded," he said, "must return to camp." This time, I obeyed. An elf-lord bore the dead elf back, and the wounded were supported by the strong as we made our way down the hill.
As we entered the valley, we saw that much of the fighting had ceased. Only in a few areas could the battling be seen.
Far up above us, great eagles flung Goblins off high precipices and cliffs and they fell shrieking to the earth below. I clutched the arrow in my chest, holding it steady to keep it from moving. The wounded Elves and I entered the pavilion that was set up for the wounded. There were already several Elves being tended to so we seated ourselves and awaited our turns. When the other wounded were seen to, an elf approached our group to see who needed the most immediate attention. He nearly gasped when he saw the dart protruding from my chest and told me to follow him. The sounds of battle raged fiercely from outside, though we knew the battle was coming to an end. I followed the elf into a corner of the tent. He motioned for me to lie down. Breaking off the tip of the arrow, he removed it. It hurt horribly; it was all I could do not to scream. The elf held a rag soaked in warm water over the wound for a few minutes to stanch the flow of blood and then handed it to me.
"Sit there by the door and I will call you back shortly, your highness," he said. I loathed it when people referred to me with formal titles.
"Please call me Legolas," I said. I waited while he helped the elf-lords. Two had been grazed by a scimitar and the other caught behind the shoulder. How his wound bled when he removed his armor!
After nearly twenty minutes, the elf motioned for me to return. He put a bandage with some form of ointment on it on my wound and the other Elves and I left the pavilion. To our amazement, the battle was over. There were piles of Goblin bodies nearly covering every inch of the ground. The great bear strode across the field and to our utter astonishment, he suddenly transformed into a large man.
"He must be Beorn," I sighed, still feeling weak. "I learned of him from my father." That reminded me. Where was my father? I searched for him inside the pavilions, but he was not found. I finally saw him standing beside Gandalf in quiet conversation. Gandalf's left arm was in a sling. The king had not suffered any wounds, save a small laceration above his left eye. I greeted my father with a smile, "Mae govannen." He was filled with joy to see me, and I was to see him. "Lle tyava quel?" (Do you feel well?) he asked. I nodded and answered, "I feel better than I did before, though I am rather weary."
The Dwarves had suffered the greatest casualties; nearly a third of their army lay dead upon the field. Thorin, the Dwarves' chief, had been killed. Our earlier argument was forgotten. He and his fellow Dwarves had rushed to our aid when our need was greatest and had fought bravely, though three had died. My father spoke, "We shall depart on the morrow to return to Mirkwood."
The next day, I was approached by the hobbit, Bilbo. It took him quite a while to find me in the throng of Elves, but his eyes lit up when he finally spotted me.
"Legless!" he called. "I wanted to wish you a very fond farewell and thank you for not running me through with your spear."
I smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "I wish you a safe journey back to your land, as well. By the way, my name is Leg-o-las," I corrected.
He laughed and scampered merrily away. "Good-bye, Legless."
By that time, we had struck camp and readied ourselves to leave that afternoon. The treasure was divided up among the remaining Dwarves, the Lake-men, Bilbo, and us. We were quite satisfied as we marched back to Mirkwood.
I rode proudly beside my father. We were accompanied by Gandalf and Bilbo, who were to ride beside the king until we reached the borders of Mirkwood, where we were to travel our separate ways.
I sighed. Something about that hobbit bewitched me. I could not explain it. Never had I met a stranger creature. Little did I know, but I was to meet many more ere my time in Middle-earth had ended, but that is another story.
Finis