Chapter 2: A Fear Confirmed

Earlier that day...

Galinel had left shortly after they had talked in the courtyard. The elf prince had a sense of foreboding as he watched the elf ride away. Danger was approaching and the city was not ready for it. He feared he would never see his friend again.

Sighing, Legolas sought out his older sister, Maranwe, knowing she would at least listen to him, if not agree.

"Legolas? Is something bothering you? You seem worried, muindor nin {my brother}." Maranwe had come up behind the prince, taking him off guard. She could be completely unnoticeable when she wanted to be.

The elf prince nodded. "I am worried, very much so, muinthel nin {my sister}." He motioned for her to sit down. "I felt a strange fear in the messenger's voice this morning. I fear our city will be attacked and we will be unprepared."

Maranwe frowned. "Legolas, you worry too much. We are not defenseless, even now. A mindless rabble of orcs should be no match for us."

Her brother's eyes clouded. "We can not depend on the orcs being mindless, Maranwe. The Uruk-hai are not mindless and are often in the lead now. You have not fought orcs under their leadership; they are well organized and can easily overtake this city if there are enough of them."

Maranwe was silent. Rarely did her brother speak of his time with the Fellowship; Maranwe suspected that he was tired of answering questions and being hailed as a hero, even now, and he had never before despaired about anything. She realized he must feel very strongly about this or he would not have spoken so.

"Have you spoken to Adar {Father}?" she asked, inwardly knowing the answer already, but asking anyway.

"Yes, but he did not seem worried. Actually he seemed strangely docile, like he was not even listening." The elf prince answered, looking down toward the ground and kicking a pebble that happened to be within reach of his foot.

His sister sighed. "I will at least spread word that you are worried. Our people will fight for you, muindor nin {my brother}, for they love you, no matter what Adar {Father} says."

Legolas nodded and smiled. "Thank you Maranwe, I would feel much better if the people at least suspected an attack of some kind."

The prince wished he could overrule his father and call up the warriors to fight off the orcs. He knew they were coming, it burned inside his head. But Thranduil loathed war, having seen so much of it. And Legolas could not go against his father's orders.

He tried to shake off the feeling of dread. His father was not stupid; surely he knew what he was doing. But the prince couldn't relax; he felt as if his father did not know what he was doing, did not have control of himself. But of course that was absurd. Or was it? Now he was really confused, his head spinning.

Legolas had gained the respect of the people as a warrior fighting against the shadows coming from Dol Guldur, and had become a hero thanks to his exploits with the Fellowship, but as much as his people loved and respected him, he was still only the prince and had no real power to make decisions. No, he could not do anything. His mind finally locked into that mindset.

Maranwe had hurried off by now, silent tears flowing down her face. She knew something her brother did not know for certain, but she had foreseen it. The city would fall, Eryn Lasgalen would be destroyed. She only hoped her brother survived to help fight whatever evil had befallen Middle-Earth for he was strong and true.

A nagging in the back of her mind made her stop in her tracks. Tell him...tell him about the visions you have been having! Maranwe actually half- turned, preparing to do just that, return to her brother and tell him not just of the visions but of the shadow she vaguely perceived and the letter to Arwen.

Something stopped her. A wall, an impenetrable wall seemed to stop her from proceeding. Why? There is no threat, a voice in her head whispered, no reason to warn Legolas. Everything is just fine.

Maranwe shook her head trying to clear the fogginess. Why had she stopped? Wasn't she finished with her conversation with Legolas? He had drawn into himself, apparently stuck in his own thoughts, so she had left. There had been nothing else to say, right?

Sighing, she turned again and headed toward the palace, thinking of her dear brother. She remembered the first time that she had seen her younger brother and realized his fate...

-FLASHBACK-

Maranwe, Princess of the Elven Realm of Mirkwood and only child of King Thranduil and Queen Elenya, sat on a bench outside her parents' chambers, anxious to be allowed inside. Beyond those doors, the Queen was in labor, bringing Maranwe's new sibling into the world. One of the royal guards had come to fetch her from her room this morning, but according to one of the healers coming and going from the room, her mother had been in labor all night. Maranwe was excited to meet her new sibling and be the oldest child, instead of the only child.

The piercing wail of an infant rang out from behind the heavy wooden doors. Maranwe jumped at the unexpected noise, and resisted the urge to press her ear against the door to hear more of the sounds coming from the room.

There were several moments of silence, before she heard the low murmur of voices approaching the door. She rose to her feet as the door swung open and Thranduil stepped into the corridor. The Elven King looked weary, but overjoyed as he smiled at his daughter. He beckoned her inside the room, closing the door behind her.

Maranwe hesitated, suddenly nervous to approach the bed where she could see her mother reclining, propped in place by a mountain of pillows, holding a wrapped bundle in her arms. Thranduil rested a hand on his daughter's shoulder, gently pushing her forward.

Maranwe approached the bed quietly and slowly, and the Queen smiled tiredly. Her face was drawn with exhaustion, but she too looked overjoyed. "Maranwe, iel nin {my daughter} come and see muindor le {your brother}."

Maranwe climbed up onto the bed, and looked at the bundle cradled in her mother's arms. Wrapped snugly in a tiny green blanket was an angelic face, with the smallest features that the young princess had ever seen. Delicately pointed ears graced the baby's head, and he yawned and wrinkled a tiny speck of a nose before opening his eyes.

Maranwe stared into those eyes, eyes as deep and blue as the sea. She could not look away from those shining orbs, which seemed to hold unbelievable wisdom, as if an elf thousands of years old was looking back at her, even though that wasn't possible since the baby had only just been born. For a moment, she felt like she was drowning in the fathomless depths of blue, before the baby blinked and the sensation stopped.

The bed sank slightly beneath her father's weight as he sat down on the edge of the bed behind Maranwe. She shook her head slightly and blinked her own grey eyes, before looking back at her brother again. This time she saw no sign of the deep wisdom in the infant's eyes that she'd seen only a moment before, and the baby simply looked curiously back at her. Soft wisps of golden hair, like their father's, crowned his head. "What's his name?" she whispered.

Queen Elenya smiled and looked at her husband. "He will be called Legolas, the Greenleaf of the trees in spring." This was a fitting name for the new prince, as he had been born at the end of winter and the beginning of spring.

Maranwe smiled. "Mae govannen, Legolas, muindor nin {Well met, Legolas, my brother}." Privately, to herself, she resisted the urge to weep in both sorrow and joy. Joy, for Legolas' birth would bring new hope to their people. But sorrow, for Maranwe alone knew that her baby brother would have a long and difficult road ahead of him, full of turmoil and struggle, but also full of love, light, and hope. Maranwe vowed to herself that she would do everything in her power to watch out for her little brother and keep him from harm.

-END FLASHBACK-

Maranwe still remembered that day vividly. It was etched into her memory and would never leave it. Since that day, she had done everything possibly to fulfill her oath, and had been as protective of him as he would allow, especially after their mother had sailed to Valinor. They had a very close relationship, and could tell each other anything, except for one thing.

Maranwe had never told her brother about the experience she'd had when she first gazed into his deep blue eyes, and he'd never mentioned it. That was a secret that she would always keep, for on that day, the path her little brother would walk had been shown to her, and she'd seen, in the depths of his eyes, a great and ancient power interwoven with his already bright and shining soul, a power that she knew was intertwined with his destiny.

As she left the courtyard, her tears flowed faster down her cheeks. She would not spread word, for a shadow had befallen her as well


Darkness approached Eryn Lasgalen and still Legolas kept watch from the courtyard. He would not sleep tonight; danger grew in his mind as the hours crawled by. He couldn't believe no one else felt it, no one else was worried. Even Maranwe had gone to bed, leaving Legolas entirely on his own.

Suddenly, he heard a snap as a twig broke beneath a heavy foot. All at once the city was bathed in fire; flaming arrows ricocheted all around, turning night into day. Screams permeated the air. How the orcs, for they were indeed orcs, had gotten in, the prince could not fathom.

Rarely were elves taken by surprise. He had been waiting for something, but his thoughts had been muddled. Something was wrong but he didn't have time to think on it now. He ran back to the royal residence and met with extreme resistance. Obviously someone realized that this was the home of the ruler, for orcs were swarming the buildings Legolas still called home, even though he now lived in Ithilien.

Notching an arrow with astonishing speed, he let it fly, knocking an orc back against a wall. It didn't take the creatures long to see the threat and they immediately flooded toward the prince.

Gritting his teeth, Legolas shot arrows in rapid succession into the group as they hurried to stop him. Soon, they were too close to use his bow and Legolas quickly reached over his shoulders and snatched his twin knives from their shoulder harness.

As he edged toward the throne room, slashing in a wild fury at the orcs around him, he heard a familiar voice. "Legolas!" Maranwe had come out of her room and now saw her brother, hopelessly outnumbered, and fighting alone.

"Get out of here!" he shouted to her, thrusting his blade into the belly of an orc and spinning to meet the next attack.

Instead of running away, Maranwe ran into the throne room where she knew her father remained. Why he had not come out with all the racket Legolas was making didn't seem to occur to her. Legolas groaned in frustration, uncertain why she had been so careless, and was about to shout to her again to leave when he heard an agonizing scream.

"Maranwe!" The elf prince wailed, sprinting past the startled orcs to the throne room entrance. He let out a pain-filled moan. "NO!" Maranwe and Thranduil had been unarmed; they were laying side by side, death having already taken them.

Hearing the orcs coming after him to renew the fight, Legolas ran toward his chambers, leaving a trail of dead along the way. Once inside his room he set his jaw and awaited death. He would go down fighting at any rate.

The enemy flowed into the room now, some falling under Legolas' arrows, his aim impeccable even in the face of such adversity and certain doom. Then he swung the bow over his shoulder and began to slice with his daggers, anything that moved was fair game to the blades.

He was so busy fighting the orcs in the room he did not notice the Uruk enter with a strong crossbow. Hearing the zing of an arrow leaving a bow, Legolas turned toward the sound and was rewarded with a sharp sting in his left shoulder knocking him back a step.

He gasped, feeling sudden pangs of pain and glanced at his shoulder, half surprised to see the arrow protruding from it. He moved to continue fighting, but during his lapse of concentration another arrow had been let loose, this one hitting him in the midsection.

He faltered in surprise at the impact, not even having heard the bow this time. "No fight left elf?" The Uruk said as his blackened teeth appeared in an evil grin. "Good riddance!"

Legolas only now saw the sword in the creature's hand and could do nothing to stop it. The Uruk swung the blade and Legolas felt it slice into his stomach, agony and despair washing over him.

He fell to his knees as the Uruk ripped the blade free. The orcs and their leader, certain their adversary would die, left the room, not even bothering to further injure the elf.

Legolas slumped forward with a groan, disbelief in his eyes. Falling to the ground, the arrows dug deeper into his flesh and he whimpered as the blackness overtook him. Blood began to spread across the floor, seeping steadily from the wounds.

Somewhere far off, a demonic laugh echoed through a lonely tower.
Present Time...

"No, this can't be happening!" Aragorn shouted, his voice breaking with emotion. He ran toward the far side of the room and dropped to his knees beside his friend. Kneeling in the blood that had pooled around the fallen elf, Aragorn let tears slide from his eyes. Legolas had made it through the war without so much as a scratch to show for it, yet here he was, lying in a pool of his own blood, the victim of a horrible tragedy.

Arwen had also run into the room, but came to a stop at Legolas' feet, crying out in horror at the sight as silvery tears flowed down her cheeks from her hauntingly beautiful grey eyes. "Is he..." she cut herself off, not wanting to complete the question, lest it make the answer real.

Aragorn couldn't see how the prince couldn't be dead with so much blood around him. He reached forward tentatively; not really wanting to seal what he felt was inevitable. He touched the elf's neck in an attempt to find a pulse but pulled away when Legolas groaned and twitched.

"By the Valar!" Arwen cried, now falling to her knees beside Legolas, across from her husband. Aragorn gently flipped his friend over, careful not to cause more injury to the elf prince.

Those present, which now included a few of the soldiers who had heard their king's cries, gasped. The blonde elf's eyes had fluttered open and were only slightly glazed, though filled with pain and anguish.

His face scrunched up into a tight grimace as he took a breath and felt searing pain in his lower torso. He immediately tried to hide his pain. After thousands of years doing so, it was a hard habit to break. "E-estel? Arwen? Is it you?" he managed to whisper.

"Easy," Aragorn whispered. "We are with you now, all will be fine mellon nin {my friend}."

Judging by the wounds he knew he had received and the pain he felt, Legolas would have argued the opposite if he had the strength to do so, which he did not.

Just then, Domir and Thranduil arrived, the elf having had to travel slowly. Seeing his son's eyes open, looking up at Aragorn in pain, the elf lord rejoiced. "Ion nin {My son}, he lives!"

Legolas heard his father's voice. But he is dead, the prince thought to himself. Looking toward the door with tired eyes, he saw his father, supported by a man of Gondor, clutching a bloody chest wound. "Ada {Father}?"

Thranduil struggled to get to his son, forcing Domir to fall to the ground with the elf lord as the king reached out to grab his son's hand. "You fought well, ion nin {my son}. Continue to fight." His eyes darkened, seeing the pain his son was in. Legolas began to struggle for breath.

Arwen placed her hand on his forehead and frowned. "He is cold, going into shock, we need to do something fast."

Reaching into the pack she had been carrying in case they found survivors, Arwen drew out Aragorn's satchel of healing herbs and materials. "Here, Estel. Can you help him?"

The king of Gondor took a deep breath and looked into the pain-filled eyes of his friend. He had to help him, Aragorn had a feeling he was too important to die.

"I will be able to help him, I have to. He can not die lest the Silvan elves disappear from Middle-Earth forever." He took the proffered satchel and began rummaging around in it. Suddenly, all eyes jerked back to Legolas when he cried out loudly, jerking a little as a wave of pain swept over him. He had squeezed his eyes shut at the sensation and when it had subsided, he opened them again. They had glazed over more.

Thranduil held fast to his son's hand, slowly losing his own battle to stay conscious, but determined to stay conscious for his son. His memory was cloudy, he did not remember the prince arriving in Eryn Lasgalen, couldn't remember anything really.

Time was of the essence that much Aragorn knew. If he was to save the elf, it would be with what he did here and now. "Leave us," he said to the soldiers. "Search the rest of the city and set up guard."

Legolas was struggling to say something, but finding it difficult to breathe let alone speak. He finally managed to get out the words, "Did not hear them coming."

Aragorn faltered. "How? Elves have the best hearing in all Middle-Earth!" If they were caught unawares, we will be hopeless, he thought. He shook off the feeling of vulnerability and spoke again. "Be vigilant, once the search is complete we will barricade ourselves in here until he can travel."

Thranduil, even in his weakened state, looked shocked. It is true, he had not expected an attack, hadn't known there was one until Aragorn had roused him. How could he have been caught so unawares? Then it hit him. The shadow.

Legolas did not speak again so Aragorn suspected he had nothing to add to the conversation. The elf's breathing was labored and he was struggling to stay conscious. Aragorn decided he had to remove the arrows still in his friend before he could go any further.

Gripping the prince's blood-slicked hand, the man explained gently what he was going to do. The look in Legolas' eyes told him that the elf accepted this and Aragorn smiled. "You are brave, my friend."

He looked then to Arwen and said, "Will you be able to restrain him? Legolas may be gravely injured but I've no doubt he is still strong."

The queen nodded and with Aragorn's help was able to slide under the fallen elf, placing his head and shoulders into her lap so she would have a firm grip on his arms. Legolas knew what was coming and glanced at his father, then locked his eyes on Aragorn's.

Estel took hold of the arrow in Legolas' shoulder and pulled quickly. His friend pushed back against Arwen and tried to break free, but she held him tightly and whispered to him to quiet his groan.

That hadn't been too bad, but the stomach wounds were quite painful and Aragorn loathed having to cause his friend more pain. But the arrow had to come out before he could staunch the bleeding.

Gripping the last arrow, he looked into Legolas' crystal eyes and took a deep breath. He yanked hard and the elf prince cried out this time, the piercing sound echoing through the halls of the residence.

It was a short cry, but no less striking then a longer one would have been. Aragorn leaned in close to Legolas and spoke soothingly to him in Elvish. Once the young elf had calmed down, the king continued to administer aid, layering athelas on the wounds and bandaging them tightly to stop the bleeding. Once they were no longer bleeding, he would stitch them up in order to help Legolas' natural healing ability.

By the time he was finished, Legolas was deathly pale and wheezing with each breath. Aragorn was worried, but he knew his friend was better off now than when they had first arrived. His eyes were clearer and he was no longer writhing when pain hit, only closing his eyes and gritting his teeth.

"Rest, mellon nin {my friend}. We will be here a few days before we can move you to Gondor for proper healing." Aragorn whispered, laying a hand on the elf's head to test his temperature.

Thranduil breathed a small sigh of relief before acquiescing to Aragorn's wishes and lying down to rest as well.

Legolas smiled lightly, knowing he would be safe as long as Aragorn was at his side. For a moment, he worried that the orcs would return while he slept, but the pull was too strong and he gave in to the darkness.

Thranduil waited until his son had fallen asleep before speaking. "Aragorn? I need to speak with you," he said, his voice tired, but resolved. When the king had seated himself beside the elf lord, he began. "I have been long under a shadow, I am beginning to remember being in a fog of sorts. Nothing mattered but food and drink; we were all shrouded from the outside world. I fear a spell of sorts was cast, making us easy targets. The shadow lingers, but I am able to overcome it." Looking to his son now, he sighed. "Legolas was not affected too much by it, which is why he fought."

The elf king's eyes betrayed his guilt. "I failed my people. I was unable to resist the spell; it was too strong, even for me."

Aragorn was silent for a long moment as he sought the words that would reassure the elf. "It is not your fault. None of us knew there was a threat. Not since Sauron has there been any reason to fear attacks of this scale. You are not to blame for these deaths, for if what you say is true, you could do nothing to prevent this spell from overtaking you. We will find out what is behind this, for I fear they come for men next."

Thranduil nodded. "After ridding Middle-Earth of Elven magic, the evil being who did this will think men weak."

Aragorn set his jaw. "Let him be the one to be surprised this time."