Chapter 12 - No Fear, No Tears
"An Attack"

FLASHBACK

An Elf crept along the deserted path through the city until he came to the infirmary. He slid along the wall and slipped inside. A few healers were still moving about, from bed to bed, checking on their patients. Most of whom were about to have a baby, or fading due to the loss of a loved one. The Elf picked out one healer nearest him, only an arms length through the open doorway.

When the healer turned his back, the Elf reached out and snagged the back of his tunic, pulling him through the doorway and slamming him quietly against the wall. His strong hand clamped around the Elf's neck, and he lowered his mouth close to his prey's. The healer lashed out, kicked, pushed, but he was no match for his attacker's strength. Whispering a few Elvish words, he breathed in deeply, and a white mist floated from the dying Elf's lips into the murderous Elf's body.

His grip on the Elf's neck loosened, and he let the healer slide to the floor and crumple into a heap. A victorious, sinister smirk curled the Elf's thin lips, and he snuck past the open doorway down to the other end of the infirmary hall. He only had this one night to get as much power as he could, and then they would for sure have the infirmary more protected. This was the night he'd studied for. The night that would make him infamous.

Another healer surprised him by walking out of the door just as he was about to peek in. Quickly, he clamped a hand over her mouth and pushed her against the wall. In the same manner as before, he squeezed her throat and breathed the power and force from her body into his. She as well, crumpled to the floor.

Two more healers fell to this fate before their bodies were discovered by another. In the darkness, she could see their eyes rolled back, and the scarlet blood slowly reach its hungry fingers over the whiteness. Their sickly skin thinned and turned transparent before her eyes. She screamed loudly, and the intruder Elf was forced to abandon the rest of his prey. He ran out into the night, astonished by the strength he felt coursing through his body.

"Stop Amarthel!" He heard a voice from behind him call. He spun around to find King Thranduil himself, with two guards, and Mithrandir. Amarthel cowered at the sight of the Grey wizard, looking so scornfully at him.

"Mithrandir thought you might be up to something tonight." Thranduil said, and motioned for the guards to apprehend him. "You will never again see the light of day, mark my words." The king snarled. Not his best idea yet, he'd later come to acknowledge. Amarthel grew angry, and his blue eyes glowed white, never again to return to their beautiful sky color.

"No!" He shouted, and held his hands out to the approaching guards, who were shot back by some invisible force. Amarthel looked in amazement at his own hands, and then cackled evilly. But an arrow, shot from behind him, pierced his spine. He looked down at his chest, to see the bloody arrow head sticking out.

Several guards advanced around him, thinking his apprehension would be easy now that he was incapacitated and would surely die. But he flicked his fingers at them, and they stumbled back. Nowhere near as forcefully as the first guard. Amarthel looked desperately at his hands, then took off running. Down the path, into the forest. Never to be found. They did, however, find a bloody, broken arrow.

Amarthel was reduced to wandering the forest, killing animals to eat. When he came across a traveler, he'd kill them in the same way he'd done the healers. The white fog he sucked from them, however, was nowhere near as powerful as the others. It did increase his strength, though, ever so slightly. Once he came out of the North end of the forest, he became a nomad in the Grey Mountains, and the withered Heath.

Mirkwood was rocked by his murders, and mourned for years. But they came to forget Amarthel and his evils as time passed. Just like the bodies of the healers, he had vanished. They never thought they'd see him again.

END FLASHBACK

When Jocelyn thought about what would happen if Leyna found out about all of Tyron's previous scheming, a chill shot through her heart. She would be so hurt. So, Jocelyn vowed her sister would never find out. And only then did she finally understand why Legolas had kept it from her.

It was on the last leg of their journey to Mirkwood that they encountered the troubles. They were but three days from the palace when Legolas halted them.

"What is it?" Jocelyn whispered to him, but he held his finger to his lips and motioned feverishly for them to get off the trail. Sudden panic swept over her, and she jumped off her horse, pulling it behind a tree next to the path. The rest of her family followed suit, a bit confused. Anna was holding her horse behind a tree next to her and mouthed,

'What's going on?' But Jocelyn just shook her head. She had no idea what was going on, but she trusted Legolas's ears and instincts. Jocelyn peeked around her tree to see Leyna and Tyron hiding on the other side of the path. Of course, they weren't hid very well, considering their horses' size. She figured that was how she and her mother must look to them, as well.

She craned her neck to see Legolas, down the path a bit, bow drawn. Suddenly, he released his arrow, and a sickening gurgle could be heard from not too far away in the forest.

Tyron suddenly leapt from his hiding place and sped up to Legolas, drawing his own bow as well. Legolas shot three more arrows, and Tyron shot three of his own before their targets got close enough for Jocelyn to see. A tree blocked her view of their foes, but when the smell reached her nose, she could guess.

Orcs. The rotting odor their movements wafted her way nearly made her vomit. On the other side of Anna, Jocelyn saw her father make ready to jump from his hiding place to help as well. But Anna stopped him.

"Calenmir, no! You don't have a weapon!" She hissed desperately. The fire in his eyes dimmed a bit, as he realized she was right. He was no warrior. He was a carpenter, so he carried no weapons with him. Sure, he had minor training with a sword, but not enough to take on these foes. There were five of them left. Legolas felled three with his arrows, and was currently fighting one with his double blades. Tyron successfully took down two with his arrows, and was fighting one with his sword as well.

Tyron blocked one orc's attack, and spun around to drive his blade into another's stomach before he could attack him from behind. The black blood stained his sword as he spun back to his first opponent. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Legolas jump up and kick one squarely in the chest, pushing him back enough so he could lop off his head in one slice.

Two of the remaining three charged from the sidelines after Tyron, and one, who had been warily standing by, approached Legolas. He was large. Not like the scrawny, gangly ones before him. He tossed his large sword from one hand to the other, circling around his slender foe. Legolas blocked his attacks, and cut his arm. As the orc was distracted, Legolas glanced back to where Jocelyn and her family were hiding. Good, he couldn't see them. He turned his attention back to the orc charging toward him.

Tyron was not having such luck as the other fighter. He blocked one attack, only to be faced with another from the other side. He ducked and swooped and kicked and sliced, but their attacks did not lessen in intensity or quantity. As he swung his sword at the orc in front of him, he felt a swipe across his back. He spun around to jab his sword at the other orc, and felt a piercing in his shoulder blade. Pain grew from the scratch on his lower back and met the pain growing from the puncture in his shoulder blade.

In one last attempt, Tyron spun around to his original foe and ducked under his sword, holding his own like a javelin, ran at the foul creature. His lip curled as he cried a battle cry, and stared into the dying orc's black eyes. Quickly, he drew his sword out of the orc as it fell to the ground, and spun to block an attack. Tyron jumped back to avoid the tip of the orc's heavy sword, but he did not jump far enough.

It drew a clean line across his chest, cutting his clothes, and revealing a red gash. Unfazed, Tyron made to attack, but was surprised when an arrow whizzed by him and embedded itself in the orc's neck. He fell lifelessly to the ground, and Tyron turned to see Legolas holding his bow.

Tyron smiled weakly, before his eyes rolled back in his head, and he crumpled to the ground. Jocelyn jumped out from behind her tree and rushed to them. Leyna cried out and fell at Tyron's side. She gingerly touched his chest, helpless tears rolling down her face. Legolas knelt beside him as well. He washed his wounds with the water in his container, and started his orders.

"Anna, rip his shirt and tie up his wounds." He ordered to the woman standing in front of him. "Calenmir! Calenmir!" He shouted, and Calenmir replied softly, as he was standing right beside the Prince. "Oh, Calenmir. Put him on his horse and ride behind him. Have Anna hold yours. I'm going to ride ahead. Follow slowly." He commanded, and discreetly handed him two small daggers from his boots.

Calenmir tucked them in his belt and nodded, and Legolas made for his horse, but Jocelyn stood in front of him. Her eyes were wide with fear, and his unafraid commander façade broke. His eyes grew soft and he squeezed her arms.

"It will be fine. I am going to ride ahead to see if there are any more. But there probably aren't. Don't worry." He smiled weakly, and was gone. She turned back to see her father lifting Tyron gently onto a horse. Leyna wouldn't let go of the unconscious Elf's hand. Her face showed no sadness, but for the old streaks down her face, and the water in her eyes she was trying to conceal.

Calenmir mounted behind Tyron, holding him on the horse. "Leyna, come now." He said softly, but sternly. Immediately, she obeyed. Gathering her own horse, whom she had tied to a branch so he wouldn't run away amidst the attack, she followed the new line of travelers. Anna followed slowly behind Calenmir, holding the other horse's reins, and Jocelyn waited for Leyna to start off before bringing up the rear. As much as being last in the line frightened her after that attack, she wanted to keep an eye on her sister. She didn't seem too well.

Leyna's mind was devoid of all thoughts. During the attack, her eyes would not leave Tyron's fighting form. She gasped every time the enemy blade touched him, and pain and fear shot through her body as if she was being cut as well. Silently, she prayed for a safe journey and for Tyron's health.

It seemed like hours before they heard Legolas cantering back up to them.

"I see nothing ahead. If they weren't close around, I doubt there will be more. We must hurry now. He needs a healer." He spouted authoritatively, as he inspected the wounded Elf. They galloped quickly through the forest, not stopping to eat, until the sun had long since set. Then Legolas stopped them to make camp.

He helped Calenmir dismount Tyron, and laid him on the ground. Immediately, he started a small fire, and put Jocelyn in charge of keeping it going. He had Anna wash and rebind Tyron's wounds, and Calenmir helped him set out blankets and distribute supper. He let Leyna be. She sat cross legged beside Tyron, just watching him. Her face was expressionless as she observed the wounded soldier.

She tried her hardest not to let the others see how terrified and miserable she was. Though she was pretty sure they knew. They all knew she cared about him. She had told them herself not all that long ago. But she figured if she kept her despair in check, the reason for her worry would disappear. She took the food her father handed to her. They moved Tyron onto a blanket nearer to the fire, and laid another over top him. Leyna pulled her blanket and unrolled it next to him.

Anna and Calenmir slept securely in each other's embrace. Hardly a word was spoken if it was not Legolas's orders. When Jocelyn pulled her blanket to her chin and closed her eyes, Legolas was still standing around camp, staring into the woods. So light was her sleep, that when he crawled in behind her, she woke.

"Are there more?" She whispered into the darkness. She felt Legolas's warm sigh on the back of her neck.

"No."

"Will Tyron be okay?"

"If we get him to a healer within the next day or two. The wound on his shoulder is deep, and he has lost blood. The smaller scratches are in danger of infection as well." He informed her.

"Leyna will be heartbroken if anything happens to him." Jocelyn whispered.

"I know." Legolas replied, and silently resolved to do everything in his power to keep that Elf alive. As if he wouldn't already.

Two days of riding hard and emotional drainage later, the weary travelers approached the city. Over the past few miles, Jocelyn saw her fianc's heart lighten, and his eyes twinkle again. He tried to downplay his happiness, due to the events of their journey, but Jocelyn read him like a book. He was always happy to come home, and happier even to know what would come of his return.

Somehow, Jocelyn did not worry about Tyron as much as she knew her sister did. He had woken briefly the day before, and got some food and water in him before falling unconscious for the rest of the trip. Now that they were so close to the city, Jocelyn felt he would recover nicely. And since she didn't worry about him anymore, she returned her attention to other things.

Like her impending wedding. The thought always brought a smile to her lips and a sigh to her lungs. She would be getting married. Not only that fact, but that she was marrying her best friend. The most perfect and beautiful soul in all creation. She loved him more than words could explain. More than life itself. So much that it hurt.

A sudden wave of anticipation jumped into her stomach as the palace came into view after passing the gate. She suppressed a grin and looked to Legolas, who was doing the same. The others rode slightly behind them, Calenmir and Tyron in the middle, Anna and Leyna bringing up the rear with the extra horse.

A thin crowd of Elves gathered by the path to the palace stairs, and was steadily growing as Queen Edeline and King Thranduil descended to greet the travelers as they rode up. Edeline gasped as she saw the one bloody, unconscious Elf.

"Son, what happened?" Thranduil boomed, his brow, under the circlet of leaves, stitched with worry and curiosity.

"Orcs, father. Ten of them attacked us not three days time from here." Legolas informed the King, who seemed outraged. He shouted something to a nearby guard, and he scurried away. Another soldier helped Legolas and Calenmir unload Tyron from the horse, and carry him to the infirmary. Legolas went with his father into the study to plan out increased rounds in the forest.

Edeline tended to Jocelyn and the guests. She ushered them into the palace, and stopped a maid along the way to guide them to two guest rooms. Edeline talked in hushed tones, though she was unsure why.

"Wonderful to see you, Jocelyn. This must be Leyna." Edeline said, gesturing behind them to Leyna, walking alongside her parents. "Pleasure to meet you, I have heard much about you." Leyna dipped her head with a small smile.

"Queen Edeline, this is my mother Anna and my father Calenmir." Jocelyn introduced them as they walked.

"Good to see you well." She said, and he nodded respectfully.

Leyna's room was across the hall from Calenmir and Anna's. Edeline told them dinner would be sent up to each of their rooms soon, and exited politely. Leyna and Jocelyn hung around in their parents' room for a while, before Leyna left for a bath in her own room. Not too long later, Jocelyn kissed her mother and father, and went across the hall to see if she could comfort her sister. But Leyna was not in her room.

Jocelyn pondered over her possible whereabouts as she made her way back to Legolas's room. She asked herself where she would go if she were in her sister's shoes. To Tyron, of course. Leyna was in the infirmary with him.

She had been in the middle of her bath when she realized where she should be. Retracing their steps back outside, she located the infirmary, down the cobblestone path that crossed the steps of the palace. A healer showed her to his bed, and there she sat. In a chair, pulled close to his side so she could hold his hand. When no one could see, she let her troubled tears fall. The thought of losing him caused her more pain than she expected.

She rested her head on his arm, trying to calm the sobs that racked her small body.

"Why do you cry?" A soft voice was heard from Tyron. Leyna lifted her head quickly in surprise to find Tyron looking at her with his brow furrowed.

"Oh Tyron." Leyna breathed, and laid next to him on the bed so she could feel him embrace her. "I was so scared for you." She said through her tears.

He tilted her chin up so he could look in her red rimmed eyes.

"There is no need for fear. Or tears. Not ever. Not in the eternity that you have my heart."

A/N...I had a dream the other night that I was an Elf with a little dagger and was fighting this guy with a huge sword. ... Weird, a little obsessive, I think, if LOTR things start showing up in my dreams. But I won the swordfight, anyway. And I was excited about it when I woke up. I had to tell my parents. They thought it was strange. But they always think I'm strange, anyway.

What a LONG chapter, huh? Review, and tell me what ya think!

GinnyPotter4eva - Thanks, I try to keep it interesting, yet not overload it with too much drama all at once.

Nessa Inwe

Ilenya the Fair - Singapore! Wow, that's really far away! Why are you there? Well, I hope you feel better, and I hope you liked this chapter!

LittleCrazy1 - she's not a Princess? Hm...I did not know that. Well, the servant in the last chapter called her Lady Arwen, at least. I guess Jocelyn just didn't know she wasn't a Princess. Thanks for correcting me, and thanks for reviewing! I updated as quick as I could!

Artria - I hope little pieces of the mystery are starting to come together. I'm new at the mystery writing thing. Keep telling me what you think and where you are at in putting the puzzle together. It'll give me an idea of what to give away and what to save for later.
Bronchitis, huh? That sucks, hope you get better!

TPfan333 - I've converted you, huh? Lol that's awesome! And I think I might look for those books you recommended. Glad you like the story, hope you liked the chapter, and review again! (As if I have to ask, you always do anyway!)

KT - Yeah, I've smoothed things with Leyna and Tyron. I figure they deserve to be happy. They've been through a lot, and I'm concentrating on developing other things to come in the story.
As you can see, the dark-elves I made were created in a different way, and are called something else that I made up, but the concept is the same.
Thanks for understanding, and for reviewing!!

-Austin B.