Chapter 21 - The Backyard Battle

Hours after the attack of the fifteen orc on the Three Warriors, Amarthel's scouts did not return. He angrily paced the army's makeshift camp, pondering the action to take. What did that mean? It was harder for him to see things, now that he was in the midst of the wood Elves' realm. Their magic suffocated him, and made it more difficult to use his powers.

So, he gave Carca -- the male, created first and strongest, the only Rauko with a name, given to him by Amarthel -- a mission. To fly silently, close to the palace. Amarthel whispered this to him, and untied his chains. He immediately jumped into the air and soared high into the sky.

Until Carca got back, Amarthel walked through his camp, inspecting his soldiers. They stood at attention as he walked by, and resumed whatever they were doing when he passed. The Morambar was sleeping peacefully when Amarthel approached it. Its long hair that covered its entire body was so dark brown, one may guess it to be black. The claws on its hands and feet were at least four inches long, and when the large creature yawned, he could see under its black lips, the many rows of long, sharp teeth.

The Morambar was a legendary creature. Many old tales were woven about it to keep little elflings behaving. A ferocious beast it was. About the size of an oliphaunt, if not a bit smaller, but much stronger and more useful in war. When it walked on its hind legs, as it most times did, it was close to thirty feet tall. Amarthel smiled at the creature. He'd have petted it, but for fear it would wake and unleash its wrath on him.

Suddenly, he felt a breeze from behind him, and he spun quickly to see Carca on all fours before him, shrieking softly. He looked up at his master, his eyes blood red with no pupils.

"Fifteeeeen dead. Killed by Three Warriorsssss." Carca said quietly, breathily in a high pitched shriek, (sounding something like nails on a chalkboard) and lowered his head again.

"Fifteen killed by three!" Amarthel shouted, and kicked Carca viciously, sending him rolling away shrieking. Amarthel stormed furiously through camp back to his tent yelling, "Get ready! We march tonight!"

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Much to Jocelyn's dismay, she was sitting on the bed in the infirmary having her face washed by an elleth. Her expression was stuck in a perpetual scowl, and she crossed her arms over her chest. Her parents had long since visited her and departed to visit her sister, who was apparently somewhere nearby. They doted and touched and asked feverish questions. Jocelyn hugged and kissed them, but told them to leave her alone. She was seething. The object of her anger, Legolas, poked his head in to check up on her.

"How are you?" He asked timidly, knowing how angry she was with him.

"Besides the fact that you don't believe in me enough to let me defend my kingdom, I'm fine." She said sarcastically, and the elleth had a hard time washing the blood from her eyebrows when she wagged her head as she spoke.

"Jocelyn, it's not that I don't trust you. I know how bravely you fought those orcs today. I am just scared for you. If there is the slightest chance you may get hurt, I don't want to take it." He cooed, and sat on the edge of her bed. She wouldn't look at him. "I am doing this for you. I love you." He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand, but she pulled away. He sighed, and she felt his weight leave the bed, and heard his soft footsteps leave the room.

She was clean and in new clothes when Arwen arrived. Jocelyn was tying her boots up and about to go see how she could help the preparations when she heard her speak.

"Going somewhere?" Jocelyn jerked up. Arwen wore her own clean clothes, and only had bandages on her hand and arm.

"How did you get off so easy?"

"I'm a Lady." She said, mockingly haughty.

"I'm the Lady. Of this city. And I didn't even get off that easy." Jocelyn said animatedly as she plopped back down on her bed. Arwen sat beside her. For a long while there was silence. Then Jocelyn spoke softly.

"I'm scared, Arwen."

"As am I." Arwen replied, placing a hand on her friend's knee.

"You have no reason to be. I saw how you can fight."

Arwen scoffed. "I fight so wonderfully. I almost died today. If it hadn't been for you, I would have. You saved my life, Jocelyn. You deserve great honor for your bravery in battle." Arwen said earnestly. Jocelyn furrowed her brow as memories of the battle came into focus. She'd been too preoccupied to try deciphering them through the blur of black blood and fury.

"No, Arwen, that's too much. I don't deserve such recognition." She said humbly.

"Yes, you do. Please Jocelyn, you saved my life. I already told my father anyway. And he won't soon forget." Arwen said victoriously.

"Arwen!"

"One would think you would be proud. You did a very good thing. You saved a friend's life."

"I suppose I am proud. I just don't want a big fuss made over me. It hardly seems like I did anything at all. You did most of the work on those fifteen."

"But I would have left one alive with the satisfaction of killing Elven royalty, had it not been for you." She looked expressively into her friend's eyes. Jocelyn smiled and embraced her.

"Legolas won't let me fight." Jocelyn said dejectedly when they pulled away.

"Nor will my father let me. But I have an idea." Arwen whispered, with such a mischievous gleam in her eye, that Jocelyn's curiosity was captured immediately.

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Leyna was sleeping on a bed down the long room from where her sister and Arwen had been. She woke with a start as she heard Elves running by the building on their way to station themselves at the palace. She observed white curtains which blocked her view of her surroundings when she suddenly grimaced as a pain came to her ankle. Flinging off the blanket, she saw it was wrapped tightly. She sighed and lay back on her pillows.

She was about to call a healer to see what was wrong with her ankle, since she couldn't remember if it was cut or broken, when she heard voices. Hushed voices so that her half Elven ears could not hear. Footsteps approached her bed and slowly drew back the curtain. It was her husband. Seeing her awake, he threw the curtain away and hugged her as she lay in her bed.

"When I heard you were attacked I was so troubled." He breathed into her hair.

"I live still. My ankle hurts, but Arwen and Jocelyn protected me." Leyna smiled.

"What happened to it?"

"I'm not sure." She answered, much too cheerful for the situation. Tyron shook his head adoringly at her perpetual good mood.

"I must go join the soldiers for war." He said casually.

"I know." Leyna answered, her expression unchanged. If she didn't let him know she was scared to death, then there would be no reason for her fear. If she pretended she didn't care, she wouldn't jinx his life. But Tyron knew better.

"I love you." He whispered, kissing her lips deeply, what could possibly be one last time.

"I love you too." Leyna breathed back, struggling to keep her tears under control. Tyron left quickly, hating the feeling of farewell that surrounded him.

Archers were stationed on the palace roof, and soldiers were lined against the back of the palace. A few lines were sent around the city to the East and West, so the orcs wouldn't have the option of going around their lines to enter the city. Legolas was among those in the back yard, in the front lines. Between the palace and the woods, the grounds must have been at least 100 yards. That's a whole football field of space between the building and the trees. The building itself must have been at least 100 yards long as well. With about 20 yards of space on either end between it and the forest. This 20 yards made a nice pathway into the gardens which led into the courtyard of the city. If the orcs made it through there, there would be no stopping them.

The Mirkwood Elves were told to keep inside their homes. They were told not to be frightened, as they were well protected, but they were scared anyway.

When all the soldiers were in position, they watched like statues. The scouts they sent out to report the position of Amarthel's camp never came back. Tyron stood on the roof of the palace, with his bow ready and waiting. It was twilight when they heard the first Rauko call. It was a sound that struck a nameless fear into the heart of even the bravest Elf. Some of their mouths dropped open, eyes widening in horror as they watched the figure glide across the gray sky.

King Thranduil, from his slightly less dangerous position of the side balcony, heard the call, and his heartbeat quickened. It was the sound from his dream. His nightmare. He hadn't recognized it then, but now he remembered the myths surrounding the Raukos...the demons. Their thirst for blood, their white bony bodies and solid red eyes. But they were supposed to be just stories!

He looked up to the sky, to see the shadow's black hair streaming behind it. It hovered in the air a moment, before diving toward the ground, as a hawk dives to kill its prey. It landed on a soldier who was, unfortunately, standing nearby. He was knocked to the ground, and the Rauko crouched on his chest, gnawing at his throat.

From the rooftop, Tyron was horrified. He strung an arrow and shot the demon in the neck. It just lifted its head and shrieked at him before yanking the arrow out of its body with a white veined hand. The Elf's blood ran down its chin, staining the whitish clear skin. It pushed its feet against the dead Elf's chest, launching itself into the air toward the palace roof.

Another shriek was heard. And another. And another! The first flew over the palace, with a rain of arrows after it. Several struck their target, but the demon was unfazed. It simply circled in the sky with the other three, and pulled the arrows out. The soldiers on the ground, led by Legolas, charged toward the forest, where a mass of orcs appeared, charging back at them.

Hundreds of Elvish blades rose and fell, gleaming in the night as if the sun shone upon them. Hundreds more of good Mirkwood arrows sang through the air, felling orc after orc onto the once beautiful green grass of the palace backyard, staining it a sickening black. Legolas's voice rose above all the clamor of battle, clear and strong.

"Do not break! For Mirkwood do not break!"

Arwen and Jocelyn crept unnoticed behind the row of archers on the palace roof. With their own bow and arrows, they took position at the end of the line. Their cloaks were drawn over their faces, enough so they would not be seen, but still could see to aim and shoot true. Jocelyn quickly located Legolas down on the field. His body turned and swooped as he killed one after another. Suddenly, she felt a great chill all the way to her bones, and looked up as a shadow passed in front of the moon, which had now risen.

Three more circled the night sky, every now and then arrows would pierce one, only to be torn out. Their skin did not bleed, and the two red dots stood bold against their faces. One swooped down onto the field to attack a soldier, ripping out his windpipe, and flying back up into the sky. Jocelyn was stunned a moment, until Arwen noticed her companion's shock and elbowed her in the ribs.

Stars twinkled happily, seemingly unaware of the carnage beneath. The fighting went on for hours. The Elves showed no sign of breaking. But then again, neither did the orcs. The whole air was foul with death and rotting creatures.

Jocelyn had run out of arrows, and was about to run into the palace for more when all of a sudden, the orcs hushed. A pall fell over the field, and the Elf soldiers were confused. The orcs were standing before them, yet they did not fight. The orcs backed up slowly, and parted down the middle of the field, to make way for an Elf on a dirty white horse, leading behind him a...a Morambar.

The soldiers collectively gasped. None had ever seen such a creature before. This army was truly satanic. The beast moaned loudly and growled viciously as Amarthel began to break off his spell. The Elf smiled maliciously as he led the creature to the front line and released his chain and his spell simultaneously. He galloped quickly away, to the left side of the field, drawing his sword and swinging down at Elves he passed by. Several heads rolled, and Amarthel looked up to the palace, straight at Thranduil.

"I have seen the light of day, my liege. And my army looks wonderful beneath it. But don't you think they look just as well under starlight?" He laughed and galloped back into battle.

The King's stomach dropped through the floor. A sinking feeling so dizzying came upon him that he clutched to the rail of his balcony to keep from toppling over. The mere presence of such malice knocked the breath from him.

"Why? Why is this so?" Thranduil whispered to himself, as he leaned heavily onto the rail, observing the merciless and senseless slaughter of his own innocent people. And suddenly, the exact moment in time which caused the terrible chain reaction leading up to this point, became clear to him.

After having to drag Thranduil down to Amarthel's quarters in the armory, Amarthel finally opened his door. The King was shocked to find room torn to pieces, thesoldier looked very angry and flushed, and a barely living (though no external injuries were found) Elf lie on the floor.

Later, it was determined by the testimony of the unconscious Elf, that Amarthel had attempted to kill him. Thranduil had no choice but to discharge Amarthel from the Royal Guard.

Before leaving the Hall after his punishment, before locking himself away or disappearing or wherever he went for a time, Amarthel turned to the King. Such was the hatred burning in his blue eyes that Thranduil was struck dumb for a moment.

"You'll rue this day, friend Thranduil. I swear on my life you will pay for this."

Thranduil slumped into a chair and hung his head, thinking of all the times he and Amarthel had gone to war together. How many times they had saved the other's life, how many goblets drank to the bottom together, and how much love he felt for his friend soldier.

If it had not happened then, it would have eventually. Some things are inevitable. Evil will show itself in an Elf's soul, no matter how long and true they have been your friend.

Thanks for the reviews, dudes. CSI and Without a Trace are on tonight!!

Ilenya the Fair, Ms. Unknown

Dee69 - ; ) Thanks for the suggestion. I really really appreciate getting input like that. And...who knows, something along those lines just may happen. Maybe.

Feathers of Snow: Honeypot - Take it down a notch, killer. jk. Did u like the chapter? It was pretty long, too. I'll try to update real soon so I don't send you into a spastic rage. : ) PS How's that math coming?

Orlando's Hot Chick - Maybe I'll scan it and send it to U.

KT - I'm so happy you watch Lost!! I don't have anyone else to talk to about it besides my mom...not that she isn't great but...well anyway...lol I do love your plays, I really truly do!

Nessa - Lol We're talking about Elves and orcs, here, and you accuse the fight scene of being unrealistic? JK, I know what you mean. THanks for the review!

Artria - You were in a musical, hey? Did you have a big part? Did you get to sing? Ooh oo tell me all about it!

-Austin B.