Chapter 22 - The Second Day
"Sinister Dreams"

As the night wore on, wounded Elves were flooding the infirmary. Leyna watched in horror as Elf after Elf was brought in bleeding, maimed, dying. Her husband was out there, too. She was very relieved when a healer told her she'd have to be moved to make room for the more seriously injured.

"I can take it from here." Leyna insisted, when the elleth had given her crutches. She was too swamped with more serious injuries to take special care in a twisted ankle. Leyna hobbled quickly out, dodging stretchers of moaning Elves as she exited the building. The city streets were absolutely deserted. The sounds of battle were not far off, and she hurried to her home. All she could do was pray.

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Amarthel was growing increasingly frustrated. His army was not making any headway. The Elves would not break their line, they were not getting any closer to the palace, and were suffering great losses. He ordered some to go in the forest around the front line, but there were Elves in the forest, too, and they would be dead on the spot with an arrow in their throat.

The Morambar was a terror as well. More real, it seemed, because it was on the ground with the soldiers. They could feel its breath behind them, and knew their death was sealed. It swiped its great claws at the fighters, knocking a whole line out at a time. It had to be stopped. As it clambered in great zig zags down the field, leaving a path of fallen Elves in its wake, a soldier before it noticed something very important. When a shower of arrows would fall over it, the great beast turned it's head, so the arrows struck its cheek. It was protecting its face. The morambar grew nearer to the soldier, and the idea put itself together in his adrenaline rushed brain. The beast's eyes!

"Aim for the eyes!" He made to cry out, but the beast swung its paw at him, and he ran between its legs. After recoiling from the stench, he commenced a mighty blow to its thick, trunk like leg. It moaned loudly and pitifully, and stamped its feet, hoping to crush the nuisance beneath it. So the Elf ran from its dangerously safe place to get a good shot at the beast's eyes. He drew his bow back, and the monster had caught sight of him and lowered his face to scoop him up into his teeth. Just before he could release his arrow to pierce its eye, an orc fighting some other Elf bumped into him from behind, sending his arrow shooting off in a different haphazard direction.

The Morambar clamped its mighty jaws around the Elf's midsection and he shrieked loudly in pain. He beat the thing's snout with his hands and flailed his legs in hopes of freeing himself. But he knew it would be in vain. So, through the pain and the wishing hard that his life would end very soon, he drew a dagger from his tunic and reached up with his left hand to drive it forcefully into the thing's eye. He did not stop until it hit upon the hilt. The Morambar released him, sending him freefalling to the ground far below, where he hit hard and lay still. A loud, painful moan sent shivers through the battlefield, as the beast swayed and fell with a great cloud of dirt, next to the Elf who finally set it free.

Amarthel's heart sunk as he saw the beautiful beast fall. It was a great loss for his army, and lowered his morale. He decided quickly that they had fought long enough today. Though his army, backed by his spells, did not tire, he was drained from his spells which strengthened them. He needed to pull back and regroup. So, he called retreat, and the orcs fled back into the forest. The Raukos abandoned their current prey and flew over the treetops to the camp about an hour away, as the Rauko flies.

Legolas was about to call an advance and chase the foul army down, but Thranduil stopped him. His voice seemed to waver as he called as loud as he could over the clamor of the field.

"No! Pull back into the palace! Regroup, we will watch for them and fight tomorrow when we are revived!" He called from his balcony, and disappeared into the palace. Legolas looked around at the weary soldiers who dragged themselves off the field. He was surprised to see Elrond beside him.

"Lord Elrond, you fought with us tonight?"

"Of course I did. Until the aid I sent for from Rivendell arrives, you will have to settle for just me and my guards."

"You will do for now." Legolas smiled, and clapped a hand on his friend's back, leaning on each other as they made their way to rest.

Jocelyn and Arwen rushed back to their rooms before they could be found out. They waded through the Elves milling about in the palace lobby, and ran as fast as their weary legs would take them. They hugged and kissed each others' cheek before parting, and thankfully made it back before any could see them.

She visited her parents' room after she had cleaned up. She was glad they were there. They consoled her worries about her husband.

"Jocelyn, I'm sorry we didn't visit you today. We figured it would be better to let you be alone, since what you told us this morning in the infirmary." Anna explained as she held her daughter's head on her shoulder. Jocelyn lifted her eyes to look into her mother's.

"Oh momma, I was just angry at Legolas because he wouldn't let me fight. I'm not mad anymore. But I am kind of glad you let me be by myself." Jocelyn confessed, and Anna sniffled softly, then suddenly burst into a sob.

"Mother?" Jocelyn questioned. Anna hadn't been that upset to the point of sobbing at all while Jocelyn had been there that night.

"An Elf came by just before you came tonight. He said that the King's army was severely depleted and they needed all volunteers they could raise." She paused to gain her wits, and Jocelyn placed a hand on her mother's. "Your father is going to war tomorrow!" Anna cried, and threw her face into her arms, onto Jocelyn's lap. She stroked her mother's hair, looking very calm. She raised her eyes to her father's, who was sitting across from them on the divan. He seemed to ask forgiveness, but was confident in his decision. Jocelyn nodded, and tried to smile to reassure him that he had her support.

"I'm going to be volunteering in the infirmary tomorrow, to keep myself busy and help out a little." Anna sniffled and sat upright, breathing calming breaths. Jocelyn nodded quickly. "You can help there, too."

"No ma, I couldn't stand to be around all the death. And if I saw someone I knew there…" Jocelyn trailed off, tears stinging her eyes as she thought of seeing her husband or father brought dead to the infirmary. "I suppose Leyna is happy to have Tyron back tonight." Jocelyn tried brightening the mood in the room. "From my balcony I saw him walking down the street to his house."

"I'm glad he's okay." Anna whispered, and Jocelyn nodded. The young half Elf sighed and kissed her mother's forehead. She hugged her father tight and long, kissing both sides of his face.

"I need some sleep, and I want to be there when Legolas gets back." Jocelyn said, her parents nodded, and she left to wait for Legolas's return.

The servants of the palace were in a frenzy. Lodging as many exhausted soldiers as they could and tending to them all. Legolas shuffled slowly to his room after discussing strategy with his father and the Captain.

"We will do just as we have. Keep our line strong, and let them break upon us like the sea on the sand. Their numbers were severely reduced, and we did not suffer half as great of losses." Thranduil reasoned. Legolas's mind was weary after the long day of war, he wanted to end the battle right that night.

"Why did you not let me advance, Ada? Why did you call us back?" He asked slowly, perplexed.

"I know what is best for my army. You are weary, my son. Go sleep and be refreshed for battle tomorrow."

Jocelyn had drawn him a bath and was in her night gown when Legolas entered. She rushed to him and held him for a moment, before helping him to the washroom to undress. During the battle, her eyes always found their way to his fighting form every now and then, just to be sure he was okay. Her stomach sank lower with every cut and scrape she uncovered as she slid his tunic from his shoulders, eliciting a sharp hiss of pain from him. They needed no major treatment, and Jocelyn washed him gently and bandaged what needed to be. She cooed soft things to him during the process, and he whispered where it hurt, but they spoke no other words as they climbed into bed. Jocelyn was afraid to say anything. The mind of a soldier is uneasy during wartimes.

But he laid his head on her chest, wrapping his arms around her warm body. She stroked his still wet hair, and listened to his breathing. When it became clear to her that he would not fall asleep so easily that night, even in his weary state, she thought she could help. A soft voice came to her lips, and he listened to it rumble in her chest.

Lay down
Your sweet and weary head
Night is falling
You have come to journey's end

Sleep now
And dream of the ones who came before
They are calling
From across a distant shore

Why do you weep?
What are these tears upon your face
Soon you will see
All of your fears will pass away

Safe in my arms
You're only sleeping
What can you see?
On the horizon
Why do the white gulls call?

Across the sea
A pale moon rises
The ships have come
To carry you home

And all will turn
To silver glass
A light on the water
All souls pass

Hope fades
Into the world of night
Through shadows falling
Out of memory and time

Don't say
We have come now to the end
White shores are calling
You and I will meet again

And you'll be here
In my arms
Just sleeping…

Jocelyn paused, and heard her husband's steady, calm breathing and knew he had given in to a forgiving and healing sleep. But, with a painful pang to her heart and stinging to her eyes, she also felt his warm tears seep into the fabric of her nightgown.

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Amarthel was furious. He paced his tent, kicking the tree trunk and yelling. He knew Thranduil would not allow an advance during the night. But he was livid that his army did not win the first day, as he expected them to. And his Morambar was lost as well. He had berated the orc captain and even killed one of his soldiers, but realized that was not going to help his cause, so he resolved to get some rest.

He was nearly drifting into sleep, when a vision suddenly flashed before his white eyes. It was Legolas, the son of his worst enemy, and an Elf. No, she was no Elf. She was a peredhil, he could tell, if only by the tales in her eyes. He saw them kiss and smile, and lay down together. His eyes widened, no longer clouded with sleep, and he sat up on his blanket.

"What's this now? The Prince has a wife?" He smiled. "Yes, show me her face." He said, to no one in particular. Closing his eyes, he saw her. Green eyes, long brown hair. Beautiful face. Yes, very beautiful indeed.

This was an opportunity, shown to him for a reason. He could use this to his advantage. Thranduil would do anything to keep his son happy. Amarthel lay back down, a sinister plot forming in his mind as dreams of the object of his plan floated in his dark mind, he half-slept with a smile on his face.

Miles away, his arch nemesis, Thranduil, did not sleep nearly as well. Though dreams also plagued his mind. Some may have called them premonitions, or visions.

Over his balcony he saw the battlefield, riddled with Elves bodies. Orcs swung their swords over their heads and shouted in victory.

"Magnificent, is it not?" Amarthel said from behind him. He turned to see the Elf, his black robe sopped with soldiers' blood. Thranduil pulled his sword from its sheath, but Amarthel simply held out his hand, and it was knocked away. The King backed against the wall as his foe advanced.

He flicked his fingers feverishly and swung his wrists at Thranduil, his white eyes looking very concentrated. The King's clothing tore, revealing red scratches. Two deep cuts were torn across each cheek, and he gasped, clamping his hands to his face. The blood trickled over his knuckles and down his arms.

"I have a gift for you, my King." Amarthel said mockingly, and pulled out from under his cloak, an Elven head. He held the bloody blonde hair, and turned the severed head so Thranduil could see the face. His son's face.

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Jocelyn was loathe to let Legolas go the next morning. They made love as the sunrise poured light into their bedroom, and the sounds of readying for war nagged their minds. In the open doorway, she held his hand. The only words that were spoken between them were,

"Be careful." She whispered, as he slowly backed away, their hands parting.

"I will come home." He whispered back, and turned around, walking steadily and confidently, off to a questionable fate.

Mirrored events took place at Leyna and Tyron's home. She was so happy to see him alive the night before, only to have him taken away again, to possibly not come back. When he left, she leaned her forehead against the front door and wept. Her father came by and hugged her as well before going to fight.

As the day before, soldiers took their same positions. Though their numbers were visibly less this morning. Legolas was on the field, shouting encouraging words. The green grass of the courtyard was withered brown, and still somewhat stained with black blood. The orc corpses had long since been burned, and the fallen soldiers' bodies taken away to be laid to rest at a peaceful time. The army waited for Amarthel's orcs to show.

Thranduil was walking absently down the hall toward the door leading out into the backyard. The nightmare he had the night before was so vivid, it was almost real. He knew he had to do everything Elvishly possible to keep Amarthel from winning.

So, he stepped out into the sunlight and took his place beside his son in the front lines. Legolas looked to his father in question. Thranduil just looked back hard, and dipped his head. Legolas understood. And it scared him. His father was so desperate for his city to keep its defenses, he came down to get his hand in the middle of the fight. To make sure he was victorious.

From the forest, rustling could be heard. Orcs appeared. Masses of them that blackened the end of the courtyard. The Raukos started shrieking from above, and the evil army charged. Legolas and Thranduil cried a battle cry in unison and led the attack. The two armies met in the middle of the field, and the second day of the Backyard Battle had begun.

The trees at the orc's end of the field were stuffed full of orcs with bows, and poison arrows started raining toward the Elves. The rooftop archers felled several dozens from the trees, sending them falling like flies to the ground below.

Elrond's bellowing call from the battlefield for no mercy rang out like a bell's tone. It struck bravery into the hearts of the Elven soldiers, and fear into the hearts of even the largest orcs. Legolas's twin blades sang in the air and shone in the sun, flinging sticky black blood from the tip as he swung back to destroy yet another enemy. Jocelyn made sure to keep her eye on him as much as she could, and several times, she struck an orc he was fighting dead with an arrow. Though Legolas did not know the Elf who was helping his attacks, he said a silent prayer of thanks to him.

The day of battle wore on. Until a crucial point was reached. But not on the battlefield. In Leyna's heart and mind. She was curled up on the couch of her and Tyron's home, with tears still trailing down her face. She did not want to leave her spot, thinking somehow that her being in their home would bring him luck. But soon, she grew weary of waiting, and sought comfort. In this time of trouble, she needed to talk, and knew someone whom she thought may need to talk as well.

So, she threw open her door and stormed, as best she could with her hurt and bandaged ankle, toward the palace to console her sister. After all, both their husbands were away at war. When her parents visited her that morning, they told her Jocelyn may not want company, but she damn well needed to cry on someone's shoulder.

Little did she know, Jocelyn's room was empty. And Leyna was left walking the deserted streets up to the palace alone.

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Amarthel was not fighting that day. He sat in his tent, with two orcs at the door, plotting. His head was filled with thoughts and images of the beautiful Princess of Mirkwood. He saw her fighting the fifteen orc scouts he'd sent out, and something unfamiliar to him gripped his gut. Her body moved so spectacularly, swinging the harsh orc blade, splattering black blood on herself. The image was pleasing and…arousing.

He watched her come home to her distraught husband, and saw the Prince kiss her luscious lips. Amarthel's white eyes narrowed at the image, and he grasped the hilt of his sword tighter. A creature so magnificent as the Princess should be on the arm of someone equal to her. Not the son of a cowardly King. But one who would not waste her beauty and could make her realize powers of her own.

Pacing the ground, he swung his sword by the hilt beside him, grinning like a maniac. It was coming together. Yes, his plan was perfect. It was twisted and evil…and so perfect.

Suddenly, he sat down on his cot and his white eyes widened. Reflected in them was an image of the Rauko Carca, gnawing out some poor Elf's trachea. But upon feeling his master's eye on him, he jumped up into the sky to safety and awaited a command. Amarthel concentrated hard, and conjured the image of Legolas's wife, so Carca could see her face as well.

"Bring her to me." He said, both to Carca in his mind and aloud in his tent. Then, he severed the connection, and immediately started pacing again, awaiting the arrival of his very special guest. The poor innocent elleth. She probably had no idea she would be the very thing that would lead to her city's downfall.

So….what do you think? Action, yes? Suspense? Mystery, even?

Everyone have a GREAT Thanksgiving! And eat lots and lots of turkey and taters and yams and cranberry stuff (which I never personally liked) and dessert of course!!!

KT - Of course Merry likes the pregnant woman! I mean…Charlie. That's his name on the show. And the pregnant lady is Claire. That thing he did with the peanut butter was so cute! A little pathetic, but still so cute! And yeah, the torture scene was gruesome! But the make out scene was pretty hot. Even though Sawyer's a complete ass hole. -growls- Anyway, enough talking about Lost.
The Morambar (FYI, morambar means 'dark doom'. I made the name up myself from putting Elvish words together! How clever am I?! Lol jk) is a beastly thing. Like an oliphaunt, I think I described it as. And it has those monstrous teeth and claws. -shudders- I'd hate to be in the army against that thing.
LOL Cute play. Boromir is so sweet….-sighs-
Now don't go staying up late, you won't get up good in the morning! That's what my mom used to tell me. But…school is done for me for the week due to Thanksgiving. I'm currently giving thanks for the holiday itself, and that there is no school. Oh yeah, I'm also giving thanks for having you as a reviewer!!

Nessa, Ms. Unknown

Honey pot - Thanks for complimenting my action stuff. I'm kind of insecure about that part, on account of it's my first time writing that genre.

Artria - Glad you liked the last chapter. There's some foreshadowing and mystery in this chapter as well. I can't wait until you read the next chapter…bah!! Bah? Anyway, I love your rambling. Don't ever change.

Orlando's Hot Chick - I scared you, huh? Good. Lol. One day you're going to check in your inbox and find a message from me and you'll open the attachment and BOOM! It'll be Will Turner and Capt. Jack, signed. You'll be so surprised. I wish I could see the look on your face. It'll come when you least expect it. ; )

-Austin B.