Brothers By Heart

by Badass Archer Daughter

A young Estel is rescued by a mysterious stranger, who proves to have more secrets under his sleeve than the hairs Estel has. Under unfortunate circumstances, the two of them are thrust together into a dead-threatening adventure and are forced to stick together for the sake of their survival. But really...will they truly trust each other? Or will they hide the truth forever?

15. Chapter 15

AN: Warning. Violent content is about to appear in this chapter. And I mean it, one of the characters' faith is involved... There is also language involved, since it's orc Estel.

Oh and also, remember that some of these POVs aren't in the exact time, so they aren't all happening all at once, for those of you who might be confused.

Chapter 15

"Huh, I'm confused. Which part don't you like? The part where I gallantly get back the map and regain my honor fabulously or the part in which you have to be turned into elf chowder?"

"I hate ALL of the plan!"

The two elves were currently at Silad's homemade cottage. The silver-haired elf was standing up, glaring furiously at the sitting blond prince, his hands on his hips. Legolas paid him no heed though and only continued to eat his apple (which yes, he had 'borrowed' from Silad's pantry) and was throwing a glass ball up and down, making the contents inside swirl dangerously together. Scowling, Silad grabbed the ball in mid-air, causing Legolas to pout like a little elfling as Silad set the glass ball in on the table.

"You're insane!" he said. "Everything in this plan is insane! Me getting used as a bait, the amount of orcs you're planning to kill, the havoc you're trying to raise around these woods, you and that adan boy armed with fiery explosives...and the boy himself! Why in Mandos did you leave him alone?"

"Kid needs to learn that I won't be there to wipe his mistakes off always," said Legolas, throwing the apple core in the ground, earning a scowl, grunt and hiss from Silad, who picked it up carefully and put it in his pocket for recycling. "Besides, I need a break from that insane little adan. I mean, Adar warned me that they were maniacal creatures...but wow, that boy!"

"Well, I rather think he reminds me of a certain someone," smirked Silad, sneaking one suspicious glance at the elf prince. Legolas scoffed, rolling his eyes as he grabbed the crystal ball from the table and stuffed it in a nearby bag full of those same crystal balls.

"Ha ha," said Legolas, obviously not amused, as he stood before Silad, although he failed to intimidate the other, since he was a couple of inches shorter and had to tilt his head a bit up in order to look at him in the eye properly. "But do you have a better plan, leaf-eater?"

Silad snorted, although Legolas knew he'd caught the silver-haired elf in a dead-end. "I-well...well first of all, I would never get in such stupid situations, so I'd never need to think about plans to get me out alive!"

"Of course Silad," said Legolas rolling his eyes, a knowing smile on his lips and then he sobered up. "But anyways...thank you for the homemade bombs. How'd you make them anyways?"

"Well, I guess being a ranger kind of helps," he shrugged, his eyes clouded with obvious pain. He hid his memory though by jokingly hitting the side of his head with his hand and cracking a fake grin. "A lot of plant stuff and reactions carved in my head. Besides...Besides, in my first week alone, when I stumbled here, I had a bunch of wargs on my trail. I had to use some of these to shake them off."

"Ouch."

"And it was raining."

"Double ouch," said Legolas sympathetically, patting the former ranger in his shoulder. He then grabbed his bow and borrowed quiver that had been abandoned temporarily on the table and fastened them carefully in his back. He sheathed the man-made kitchen knife (also borrowed) in the place where his right knife would usually be in and finally, slung the bomb-filled bag across his bag, heading towards the door. However, before opening, he stopped and looked back.

"Are you going to come?"

Silad sighed in exasperation. "Do I have any choice?"

"Hmm, unless you want to see Estel and I get whooped by an army of two hundred orcs...I'd say you don't have much of one," shrugged Legolas grinning, although the smile soon faded away into a frown. "But...I guess you do have a say in this. You don't owe me anything."

"No, you're wrong, I still do," said Silad stepping forward. "Legolas...you were the only one who stood up for me. Only you. And although you weren't exactly the support I was actually hoping for-"

"How flattering," interrupted Legolas briefly, rolling his eyes.

"-You still helped me. Even the men and friends I'd spent the climax of my life with had turned their backs on me. Their eyes, that had usually been used to watch over my back were now used to glare into my soul. Nobody believed me, only you, Mirkwood's infamous young prince."

Legolas sighed. "I did what I thought was right, Silad. Pain clouded everybody else's judgement, so don't blame them either. I just knew you didn't deserve to die. Not after all of the good you've done."

"But I killed them, Legolas!" exclaimed Silad, his eyes wildly opened, as if in a mad trance, startling the archer. His strong arms gripped his shoulders tightly and Legolas wished to wriggle out of that uncomfortable position as soon as possible. "I. KILLED. THEM. ALL! I truly did...I'm never going to be able to shake out that guilt, not even in this exile."

"Hey, they were Haldir's elite team. If they were actually as elite as they were called, then they wouldn't have died. Besides, you were posessed...do you really expect to beat out an evil Thangorodrim spirit?"

"No but still, I should've fought against it-and...those were my hands, Legolas. My hands! Their blood is in my hands. Every night, even in this exile...I wonder if you truly did the right thing. If I should truly deserve this," groaned Silad, dumping himself into a chair, unraveling his silver hair into his hands. "All I see these days is red and I wonder...I wonder if I truly should be living, instead of those elves. Those grieving families..."

"Come on Silad, you still have a family," said Legolas. "You're an orphan and all, I know but what about your fellow rangers? The generations who raised you to be who you are?"

Silad laughed, his voice thick with sarcasm. "Oh yes, you mean the very ones who betrayed me and supported the decision to behead me at sundown? Sure, still my family."

"As I was saying, don't judge them," said Legolas. "I bet they feel incredibly guilty of what they did...um, even if they're like, dead now. The thing is, Silad, that you need to learn to forgive others...because you can't live a proper life without letting some of that anger and regret go."

"Ha, says the misguided father's boy," snorted Silad, his voice tightening up. "You don't want me to use your father as an example, don't you? Because the elf basically spoils you, without you knowing about it."

[AN: LOL, just have to say, it is kind of true. I mean, 'Eryn Lasgalen,' is 'Wood of Greenleaves.' You basically named your kingdom after Legolas, Thranduil! Spoil your son much, King Thranduil? Sorry...just thought it was really sweet of him. Read on, awesome person]

It was kind of meant as a joke but Legolas obviously didn't get it. He scoffed, a real, deep scowl deepening in his face. "Well, maybe one of these days you should drop by my father's office and watch as his screams my head off with insults and compares me everyday with my brother. Oh no-you can't, because you're exiled out of all threeelven kingdoms."

Silence.

Finally, after that deep void of silence which really made things more awkward than before, Legolas sighed, feeling kind of terrible with himself. He sighed, looking back at the silver-haired elf whose face was etched with painful memories and was looking down at the floor, his eyes glassy. "Gee Silad, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"

"No, it's all right," whispered Silad. "Neither should I have provoked you...but may I ask, how do things really fare back there in your home? I've heard the tales of the extent of the fierceness of the Elf-king's rule, but-"

"Eh, what can I say? I believe that legends and myths are largely made of truth, although some tales of my father are quite exaggerated. Including the one in which his glare is hot enough to melt through dragon scales...although that is a vivid representation," smirked Legolas but then sobered up, a dark shadow frowning upon him. "But then...life is hard. Long has the blood of my brothers and sisters been spent to keep this darkness at bay."

"Whose blood isn't spent anymore?" sighed Silad. "My body will be a ton of ashes by the time we actually get a large victory against this never-ending darkness."

"Yes...but now, that doesn't matter. Let's focus on the little victories first, like say, this map I need to regain," said Legolas, eager to wipe out the subject out of the table. "Will you help me, yes or no, Silad?"

"As I said before, what choice do I have? I'm indebted to you."

"Hey! That doesn't necessarily make you my automatic slave...although now that I'm thinking about it, that isn't such a bad idea," smirked Legolas and Silad rolled his eyes in exasperation. "But anyways...thanks for agreeing to it, Silad. Most normal people would call me crazy and leave me to my ultimate doom."

"And trust me, that's very tempting," said Silad back animatedly and then sighed. "This is really stupid, Legolas, but for your sake...I actually think it's a pretty good cause. Protecting your home and your honor is pretty important and well, who knows? Maybe this'll make some sense when this insane plan of yours comes out. B-Besides, I think it's the right thing to do."

Legolas' gaze softened as he reached the homemade wooden door of the cottage. His words were soft. "I'm glad you think so, Silad." Then he grinned slyly, winking at the silver-haired, ex-ranger. "And by the way, don't worry! I'll make sure to say 'Hello' to my sister for you!"

Then, before Silad could argue back, Legolas smugly went out of the cabin, closing the door firmly behind him and leaving a very embarrassed, beet-red elf. He then headed back towards the orc encampment to see if Estel's body was still connected to his head.

O-O-O

"Dan, I don't think we should be doing this..."

"What! What are you saying? We should definitely be doing this."

Being the sons of the greatest elven healer in Middle-Earth had its perks, including the unlimited access to all kinds of herbs and recipes...including sleeping droughts. And while it was true that Elrohir was the only one who actually paid attention to their father's healing lessons, they had both been able to successfully make a batch of short-term sleeping droughts, which could easily be slipped into wine.

Which was just to their luck, since Lórien elves loved their wine.

Most of the day, they'd stayed away from their grandparents. And while Lord Celeborn didn't have the mind-reading powers his wife had, he could read his grandsons' faces from a twenty five mile radius and know exactly what they were thinking. He was just that intimidating.

Surprisingly enough though, his grandparents had been entirely busy and hadn't even had time to attend either breakfast or lunch with them. And sure, while they'd have to sacrifice some of their peace as they watched Haldir and Aurell shove some serious eye-candy at each other from across the table, they had been able to get as much information as possible from them and had enough time to carry out their plan.

"Well, I don't know Dan," said Elrohir as he suddenly stepped in front of Elladan. "I mean, Princess and Marchwarden Tough Stuff haven't actually done anything to us. In fact, they've helped us. Remember that we didn't research because someone felt too tired."

Elladan glared at him. "A beautiful face needs beautiful sleep."

Elrohir snorted, then continued speaking. "Beautiful? As a dead frog maybe. Anyways...I just don't think it's fair for them. There are other horses, why don't we take them? I-"

"Oh, don't be so sensitive Ro," said Elladan. "What do they think we are? Chopped liver? We deserve to know about Legolas, Ro. He's our best friend. Princess and Marchwarden Sour Face have no reason to block us out of their search. Intercepting their information was only fair and besides...what are they doing? They've got the clues, they've got the research, they've got everything...and all they're doing is send letters! They aren't actually doing anything."

"Well..." frowned Elrohir rubbing his handsome chin. "That is kind of true..."

"Exactly! Dear brother, can't you see we're just helping their cause?" smirked Elladan, clutching his twin's shoulders convincingly. "Come on, don't be a chicken. By stealing their horses, it's just another sign of retaliation. It'll teach them better. They won't shut us out from important things like these next time."

Elrohir sighed. "I know...it's just that I feel bad. Don't you, Dan?"

"Well Ro, now that you're talking about it..." frowned Elladan, pausing suddenly in place. "There is this sentiment I always feel before doing these things. It's kind of strange really. It's as if this queer voice was thundering over my head and warning me about things. I usually shut it away but...I don't know, it's unnerving."

"I think it's called your conscience, Dan."

"Oh, shut up. Anyways...are you doing it?"

Elrohir sighed, regretting what he was about to say. He sighed. "Fine. Just because I'm a great twin. I know this is probably going to be our cause of death but...if it truly is our death, then I'll gladly follow you into it, brother."

They got onto their horses. Much to Elladan's disgust, he had Aurell's gracefuly and elegant mare while Elrohir got the strong, bulky fiery horse of Haldir, who was very alike to his master and who was known to be one of Lórien's fastest horses.

Elladan smirked teasingly, although in the inside he was truly touched. "Fantastic! Because when Námo comes to reap our souls, I'll have someone to offer to him instead of me."

"Not if I push you into his door first."

O-O-O

"Estel, I hate you. I really do."

"The feeling is mutual."

It was surprising how fast things spread around the small orc compound. Despite the various roles the 200 orcs were each having, word had spread like flies in rotten bodies and soon, Estel had become a celebrity. And as horrifying as his situation was, Estel couldn't help but be a teensy bit pleased about it. As he walked through the compound after the pretty terrifying confrontation with Raknak, he'd been admired by many orcs. Some looked at him wide-eyed, whispering to each other and falling silent as he walked past. Some had their jaws dropped with amazement and looked at Estel as if he were some sort of saviour. And there were some who just stared at Estel with mocked disbelief, wondering if he really did want his death wish. But still, even those treated Estel with respect, saying nothing and acknowledging him.

And that was better than how they treated him in Imladris.

It felt really good...but Estel knew that feeling was going to end soon. He'd only had five hours until dusk, which was when the battle was going and he already had to do many things. He'd have to miraculously gain mega warrior abilities that might give him a chance with the humongous Raknak; try to find out the map's whereabouts and somehow communicate with Legolas on his findings.

Now, he only had an hour left...but at least he had one down.

Legolas glared at the boy. "No, I'm serious Estel. How can you be so stupid? Wait-you know what? Don't answer that. It was a rhetorical question. Even I'm not so stupid! I don't pick up fights the first twenty minutes I'm pretending to be an orc! And worse off, with the chief's oldest son."

"Hey, it's not my fault!" hissed Estel back. "He was being a brute and he totally deserved it."

"Yes? Well, maybe I'll put that in your tombstone as your epitaph," said Legolas rolling his eyes. Then he mimicked, in a low, young voice that was meant to be Estel's: "'Estel, he was being an idiot and he totally deserved getting his head cooked in a bowl of soup!'"

Estel growled at him, about to snap back when suddenly, there was a voice from behind.

"HEY! HOW MUCH TIME MORE DOES YOUR SISSY ASS NEED TO FINISH PISSING?"

Estel had only gotten to speak with Legolas because he told the outer guards he was going to the bathroom. He'd seen the glint of gold of Legolas' hair and knew he'd come to observe how Estel was doing. The boy had insisted to the guards that he didn't want to pee all over the camp grounds and that he needed his own measure of privacy. And with the extra priviledge and admiration, they'd given him that honor.

His father Elrond would've shoved a box of soap at the orc's language but Estel sighed. More pretending. But well...wasn't he already good at that, with his eight years at Imladris? He roughened and deepened his voice and replied:

"I TAKE AS MUCH TIME AS I WANT YOU DIRT-EATING FOOL! GO FUCK OFF AND BURN IN A PIT!"

There was quiet, so the orc probably knew what Estel meant and Legolas looked at the boy amusedly. "Ah, such language, young Estel."

"Shut up, pretty elf."

Legolas chuckled. "Well...while you have been pretty reckless, I must admit your acting skills are exemplary. Very good at adapting, I see. Have you considered joining the Rangers in the future, young one?"

"The Rangers?" frowned Estel, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, the Dunedáin...surely you've heard of them?"

"Of course I have," huffed Estel proudly. In fact, he didn't really know what they were. He'd just heard scraps and bits from eavesdropping his brothers. Dan and Ro were close friends with them and they would often join them in hunts and searches. Otherwise, Estel only knew it was a group of men traveling around Middle-Earth.

"I haven't communicated with them in a while," said Legolas. "But if you're interested, maybe you can stop by and find me. I have two friends who are really close to them and they could give you a push in. They'd like you, particularly the older twin."

Estel's heart almost jumped out. "Twin?"

"Yes, they're twins. And very annoying ones, at it," smirked Legolas, although he looked sad, almost longing. "But they're still my best friends. I haven't visited them in a while though...I've been pretty busy."

"I see..." Estel trailed off, shaking his head with this coincidence. "Anyways, there's something else I've got to tell you, Legolas."

"Hmm? Oh Valar, don't tell me you made the father angry too," groaned Legolas.

"No! I'm not that stupid," insisted Estel. "Anyways, this is the thing. I did some snooping around first of all and I slipped into the main orc structure, where all the big offices are and everything-"

"Now that's good stupidity," grinned Legolas. "And?"

"Well, I was doing my research when I overheard these orcs talking. The door was slightly open and I sort of peaked in. Very important orcs, I believe, good solid armour and rigid stances. Besides, Bulgan was sitting at the very head of the table and he was talking really animatedly."

"What did you see?"

Now comes the hard part, Estel thought. "Remember the map?"

"Why wouldn't I? It's the point of the mission."

"Bulgan has it," said Estel. "No cabinets, no folders, no boxes...it's right there in his pocket. Tucked under a hole in the left side of his armour. It's barely sticking out but it is. It'll be impossible to get it, unless we get within a short distance of him. Infiltrating will do nothing."

Legolas' lips parted and formed a solid, rigid line. Even his face had become solemn, paling one tone. His voice turned serious. "What did they talk about, then?"

"It was a war meeting, or at least from the scraps I heard. I only heard half of it, since I came too late and a guard was approaching. Anyways...they're planning an invasion. Mirkwood's their first target since it's the only elven kingdom without a ring and they plan on enslaving the people but corrupting the soldiers to fight for them."

Legolas snorted, although he was even more tense than before. "Please. My people are one of the greatest warriors in all of this Middle-Earth. They will not fall to a weak army of 200 orcs nor to their compulsion. They'd rather die than be with such foul beings."

"Then they'll die anyways," hissed Estel. This was serious business, there was no time for boasting. "As able as your people might be, without aid, they will not resist well against an army 15,000 strong."

[AN: Hey, I know 15,000 strong isn't that much in military terms, but consider that Estel heard only some of the conversation. Could be more, could be less, or there could be some of those extra beings, such as those bats we saw in the amazing BoF trailer]

Legolas' wall of emotions fell down and for the first time...Estel saw what Legolas truly was. He wasn't the brave, fearless warrior that had fought down all those foul beings before. He wasn't the considerate, sassy archer who didn't take insults from anybody. He wasn't the handsome, proud Mirkwood snob.

He was just an ordinary elf, who was just as scared for his people as anyone would.

"No," he whispered, although it sounded more like a whimper.

"I'm sorry," offered Estel, although he knew 'I'm sorry' wouldn't suffice to the ultimate demise of his people. "I wish we could do more. I wish I could've sneaked that map out to you so that they can't go on with their invasion. I wish I could've helped saved your people. Maybe if I hadn't been such a nuissance in the way, maybe we'd have more time to-"

"NO," said Legolas, growling. Then his voice was raised louder. "NO. I don't need any excuses, Estel. It's not your fault, anyways. In Mirkwood, my father always said this: we don't have time for words. We have time for battles and war cries. We do things, we do not merely speak of them. So...there has to be a solution. There always is."

"But how? Unless you have some crazy genius plan, then there is no-" Estel suddenly stopped and looked up, looking at Legolas and then he groaned. "Oh no, don't tell me you do have a crazy genius plan."

Legolas' eyes were flared up, burning with a dangerously bright flame of mischief, his former serious self abandoned.

"Oh yes, I do. Of course with the mess you've done, we'll have to make a few changes there and there...but we're definitely going to make them blazing mad. Oops! No pun intended. Now...here's the plan-"

O-O-O

Much to contrary belief, Gilraen was actually an extaordinary rider.

Beluriel cursed herself for not putting one to one together. In the beginning of her apprentice days with Legolas, it hadn't actually been entirely made of physical regime. There were often times when both of them stayed in Legolas' airy, comfortable room and Legolas would simply tutor her on things she should know, such as extra tutoring or etiquette.

Of course...Legolas wasn't like any of the tutors Beluriel's mother used to hire for her. Legolas had done almost everything, and if he didn't, he certainly knew someone that had. He was fun, care-free but determined, unlike those stuffy, horse-faced scholars her father was friends with.

Soon, Legolas' room was Beluriel's favorite place. And right now, instead of being cuddled up under Legolas' covers eating grapes (and occasionally throwing them at him) while he told her of his adventures, she rode across the plains and fields towards the base of the mountain where she could see Gilraen, a blonde dot in the distance and remembered a particular lesson.

[FLASHBACK]

"-So anyways, the Dunedáin are a race of men descended from the Númenóreans, which originally came from Númenor, only to be led to Eriador by King Elendil and his sons-"

"The oldest one, Isildur, being the most stupid out of all of them, right?"

Legolas smiled at a young Beluriel. "Right. Although it isn't polite to say that out loud, so make sure not to go around insulting every ranger-clad being around Middle-Earth unless you want your head chopped off like a pineapple. And most definitely, do not let Lord Elrond hear that. The Númenóreans are descendants of his brother, Elros, and he is very protective about what folks say about him."

"But how can they be descendants of him? I thought King Elros was the first and greatest King of the Númenor and ruled that Valar-blessed kingdom for 410 years! How can someone as gullible and corrupted as Isildur be related to him?" asked Beluriel.

"Well, there's always the black sheep in the family," shrugged Legolas. "But do take in mind, 'Luriel, that Isildur did some pretty good things too. He avenged his father and his people by cutting the One Ring out of Sauron's hands using his late father's sword. That is pretty badass."

"I suppose, but he betrayed them afterwards by deciding to keep the Ring for himself. He deserved to be killed for his greed," she huffed proudly. However, her face sunk after she saw the look of disappointment Legolas held.

"Don't say that. People makes mistake, especially Men. We have an eternity to clean our sins and regain our honor for our mistakes, but they only have a limited amount of time. It is obviously hard for them." Legolas paused, popping a grape in his mouth and continued. "Besides, not everybody with mortal blood is bad. What about the Elrondion twins I took you to see in one of our field trips?"

"They flooded five of the bathrooms."

"Well, yes-"

"And they let some of the horses to run free and cause havoc inside the Homely House."

"Well, yes. But-"

"Also, they made egg catapults that shot anyone who came into the archery grounds." Beluriel scowled at this one. "I was one of the victims."

"Of course Beluriel, but that's just the Noldo genes. Very troublesome things, genetics," sighed Legolas and then pointed at his chest proudly. "We, Silvan elves are way more mature and more skilled."

"You're half-Sindarin too you know, Legolas," came a voice from the door.

Both of them looked up as they saw Thalos, Legolas' older brother. Flashing them a perfect alabster grin, he was wearing full armour and juggled a pile of paperwork along with a head of an orc. Still, despite the bits of flesh and blood on his armour and the gash against his cheek, he looked ever so handsome.

"Half-Sindarin, half-Silvan, what's the difference?" harrumphed Legolas as he hopped from the chair he was leaning in and came to embrace his brother. "I didn't know you were back! You weren't due for two days."

"Spiders turned out more stupid than we thought. We finished the task earlier," said Thalos. Then he threw the orc head at Legolas' face, who gagged in disgust as it hit him square in the nose and then bounced off, rolling off the floor. "Here, I brought you a souvenir. You always said you wanted something to dissect for your tutoring."

Thalos turned and winked at Beluriel, who blushed and Legolas hissed, picking up the orc head and whacking his brother with it. "You orc! I'll show you a souvenir! A very good one too...MY FISTS!"

Beluriel gave a small smile as the two princes wrestled each other in the floor. And while Legolas had some pretty good hits, it was obvious that in size and in strength, the eldest Mirkwood prince was at an advantage. After a small hustle, the older prince got up and smiled, walking towards the space next to Beluriel and eating a grape.

"So what has my brother been 'tutoring' you in?" he asked.

Beluriel blushed even deeper. "The Dunedáin of the North, my lord."

She saw him nod, but in the corner of her purple-ish eyes she saw a frown. Prince Thalos looked up at Legolas. "The Dunedáin? Why are you teaching herthat?"

He said 'that,' as if he were speaking of vile snakes, thought Beluriel.

"They are alive, why not speak of them while they are?" countered Legolas smiling, although she could tell he was as tense as his brother. "Where there is life, there is hope."

"They are a lost cause, Legolas," said Thalos firmly, standing up, his frown now clearly visible. "Spending time with those twins in Imladris hasn't taught you any better. They are spread out. Lost. Alone. Starving. You are dreaming too much for them."

"I'm not. I'm hoping...but you are right," said Legolas, much to Thalos' surprise, Beluriel saw. "They are lost. That is why we must show them the way. They are alone. That is why we must keep them company and encourage them to rally together, brothers and sisters in arms. They are starving. That is why we must feed them honor and courage, for the fight to return to their blood-"

"I'll tell you what they are: lost puppies, beggars seeking to become heroes," said Thalos. "They are weak, bound by sin and greed. They all have Isildur's blood. They all have his wishes. In a way...they are like you, they dream too much, and they think little."

"No, they might've once been that, yes, but not anymore. Now they are able warriors, good beings. They seek justice for the innocent. They are swift riders, great trackers, clever dancers of the art of battle, brilliant tacticians-"

He then pointed one slender finger outside, across the window towards a foreign peak, standing cold, white and lonely amidst the dark green and black foliage of Mirkwood. "And THEY are as selfish as the very dragon that hoards inside that mountain!"

"Smaug is a greedy filth who drove the dwarves, who are even more filthy than he is, I must admit, away and has hoarded on their gold ever since. He is a beast. These are men. And they have a good reason to be secretive too. They are rangers, seeking to live humility and find the right opportunity to seize their honour, just like the Elendil that is in their blood. But for now, they hide," said Legolas. "Including from those who have nothing but unfriendly words for them."

Thalos cast a cold eye at his brother, something he was rare since he was mostly a kind and affectionate sibling and nodded curtly at Beluriel before standing up and opening the door. He stepped out, but before he left Legolas' room behind him, he poked his head in.

"So be it. But I repeat, they are a lost cause."

[FLASHBACK]

Beluriel shook the memory off.

No, Legolas was right. They're not a lost cause...they're a cause worth fighting for! she thought, ushering her horse on.

Gilraen was no longer a speck but a few feet away from her. Beluriel saw her clearly and her scout skills, ones she'd developed before being promoted to Captain, appeared to her once more. The woman had quickly abandoned all signs of being a noble lady. Her long blonde locks were braided into one big braid and wrapped around her head in a bun. She didn't wear a dress but a simple outfit for the Rangers. A dark hood, a leathery outfit, breeches, traveling boots, many complex straps and belts, a simple cotton blouse and a small coating of mail.

She smirked to herself. Hanging from her belt was a sword, although Beluriel could definitely tell the woman had been nervous and anxious, having chosen a blunt blade to steal, out of all the blades in Imladris. However, the woman still looked slightly deadly, with her dead-eye determination, fierce mutterings and tight grip on the handle of her knife.

A kitchen knife, much to Beluriel's amusement.

Beluriel smiled to her. Legolas had taught her a lot of persuasion but this task would be a fun one indeed! Slowly, she coaxed her horse near a tree with a lot of grass and a thick bush and tied her there, so that she wouldn't be bored. Patting its head affectionately, she was returned with a neigh full of gratitude and then turned back to the task at hand. Strategies and tactics glowed in her head until suddenly, she devised her plan.

Stealth would do nothing here.

She came closer, so close that she could even hear Gilraen's anxious mutterings. She could even see the shaking of her fingers, the slight sagging of her eyes of non-stop rides and the fearsome fire behind those silvery orbs. Then, she stepped on a twig, smiled and waited for the response.

It was instantaneous. Beluriel could literally see how tense the woman turned. Her spine curled and then in less than a split second, the woman was facing her with furious eyes and the knife aimed at her...in the wrong stance.

Beluriel laughed, although Lady Gilraen didn't seem to find anything funny. "Why my lady! Here, let me correct your stance. Since your kitchen knife is short, you must hold it like a dagger, meaning upside down." Easily, she plucked the knife from the woman's grasp and returned it to her the right way.

Gilraen scowled, although she immediately changed into that stance and looked slightly grateful, her voice softening. "Don't touch me! You shouldn't have come here, Captain. I could have killed you."

Beluriel couldn't help it. She burst out into a loud series of chuckles. "You? Kill me? Trust me Lady Gilraen, I was not promoted for nothing. If I had been an enemy, however, you'd be a cold dead corpse already."

Gilraen harrumphed. "Ahem, well...I was handling it all very well until you came, as a matter of fact."

"Oh yes, certainly. Because you'd totally do fine here at night at the base of the Misty Mountains, with little food, shelter, clothing and armed with nothing but a kitchen knife and a blunt fool's blade," said Beluriel sarcastically, rolling her eyes much to the woman's indignation. "AND with a wound on her leg."

The true Queen of Gondor grumbled, although she put a hand over the leg wound, which was just a scratch, albeit a bit deep, caused by a couple of thorns she'd passed earlier. "Well, I don't need to ride anyways. I'll just need a couple of miles of walking through my Arathorn's secret passage under the-"

Then she stopped, internally slapping herself and glaring at the captain of the cavalry. "Oh! Now I know what you're doing here, missy. You're just trying to make me spill the beans so that you can drag me back to Elrond and report everything to him."

"No," said Beluriel in her most soothing voice, which wasn't soothing at all, of course. "Although this secret passage business does sound interesting. I am here to help you and avoid you freezing to death before actually starting your search for Estel...here! I brought some athellas, kingsfoil you call it. You can't start your search for this secret passage without a good leg, can you?"

Finally, after much coaxing, Beluriel was able to make Gilraen sit down amongst the rocks and she brought out her athellas, washing and mending Gilraen's wound in silence. Finally, after an awkward distance behind her, Gilraen spoke.

"Why?"

"Why what?" frowned Beluriel, wrapping a small bandage around the scratch.

"Why...are you here? With me? You were easily comfortable back in Imladris, why accompany a mad woman in her desperate quest to retrieve her son from danger?"

Beluriel spoke with as much honesty as she could. She shrugged. "Well...comfortable never suited me anyways. We, Mirkwood elves, are very practical people. Songs and drinks are all good and all, but all we have time to do is to fight and live. That is all. You learn a thing or two of survival like that. Besides, your determination and your passion reminded me of the one I needed to have to actually succeed in finding Legolas."

"Hmm, yes...so you are here to find your woodland prince?"

"...Yes, in a way. But I am also here to aid you in your cause and in your son. Because I do believe you have a chance. You're not a lost cause," stated Beluriel. "But together, we have more chances. As Haldir wrote in the letter, they're both travelling together, so we might as well as hit two birds with one stone."

"I see, and this prince...forgive me, I just see a deeper involvement in this," said Gilraen blushing slightly, letting out a small giggle as Beluriel brought some oils out. "Is there not a more personal purpose?"

Oh Valar, time to get personal. That wasn't something she liked. Beluriel sighed and somehow, the honesty came out, surprisingly swift. "W-Well...other than he being my mentor and one of my best friends. I did have a small infactuation on him at the beginning of my apprentice. Did! I said DID!" She repeated, not seeing what was so funny for Gilraen, who was laughing.

"My apologies," the woman said amidst laughter, wiping some happy tears. "I-It just reminded me of myself. When I was young, you know. I was always fantasizing about such sorts of things. Surprisingly, I was very girly when I was young, always wondering about my future husband, children and life, along with fantastical luxuries. Of course, I've grown out of those habits but the nostalgia often lingers."

Beluriel snorted, gagging at the prospect of being 'girly.' Her father would laugh. Her mother would run down and tell the neighbors, chuckling and snorting all the way. "I'm not girly, my lady, I assure you. And besides, I DO NOT fantasize about Legolas! Not at all! It does not distract me from my work!"

Gilraen raised an eyebrow.

"FINE. I used to, but not anymore," Beluriel sighed and leaned back against the rock. "It's grown out. I'm now more interested in keeping my horses safe and my elves alive, as is he. These are dark times and romantic schemes just put more drama into all of this. Besides, even if Legolas had shared my same prospect, the King would never allow it...I'm just a lowly Silvan elf. AND Legolas already has an eye on another."

"He does?" asked Gilraen interestedly.

"Yes, she's not bad, although she's a bit reclusive from all of us, never speaks to us. She's very cold and serious about what she does, but she's very good friends with Legolas. She is also very headstrong, bold and stubborn, characteristics which fit with our prince. She's rebellious and she's also very young, not to add very beautiful, favored greatly by the royal family beca-but that's NOT important!" she hissed and insisted, returning to mending Gilraen's gash.

Gilraen frowned, looking at Beluriel. "Oh, don't be so modest though. You're extremely fair as well. Anyone would be lucky to have you as their wife."

Beluriel laughed huskily. "Nonsense, I'm only a normal one. Just tell that to my mother, who complains of not being able to marry me off, and I'll be happy."

The two females laughed but soon entered another gap of silence. Finally, Gilraen broke the ice once again, her voice more quiet and less suspicious than before.

"I-I don't know if your motives are true, Captain, but be them false or genuine...thank you anyways. I enjoy your company."

Beluriel smiled and replied with only three words...or four, really.

"It's my pleasure."

O-O-O

Estel twiddled his fingers awkwardly, watching as the sun slowly set, hoping it would set even slower.

It was funny how people could see things differently according to where they were. Normally, Estel would've considered this view beautiful. The sky was darkening; orange and pale gold swirled together, as if the sun itself had exploded into a synchronized masterpiece. Back in Imladris, he'd climb up the stables just to watch this happen, with a bag of apples and some sugar cubes, since he'd spent most of his afternoon with the horses. Else, he'd be inside but he'd still look for the tallest tower, munching honey cakes and drinking tea as he watched the sun die out, so that the moon could live.

Now, however, the sunset was all but pretty to him and it was a dark, dribbling, scarlet red. Red like the blood that would be spilled today because of Legolas' plan. Red like the beating hearts that would not function in a few minutes. Red like chaos.

The truth was Estel was actually early, but he supposed it was better than to be late. Strangely enough, as he thought of this, he found himself thinking about his father. And all of a sudden, he was in the middle of his father's study, whining childishly about losing everytime to the brilliant elf-lord and not being able to drink a bit of his father's Mirkwood-imported Dorwinion. He wasn't in this blood-soaken battlefield to-be...he was laughing and playing chess with his father, his golden advice in his mind.

"A ready mind defines a ready man. There are times when you don't have to be punctual...but never be late. For a late man who rushes forward can only see with two eyes in front of him than with all...If you come before, it is not you who will fret about time, but time will fret about you."

It was a strange thought, Estel pondered, that we feel most alive when we're about to die. All the memories, all the people you love, all the things you've been through...the ones you once thought were so insignificant, came back to you in the end, almost as if they were precious parting gifts.

But now, he wasn't in his father's study, laughing and playing chess, getting strange riddle-like advice. He wasn't in Imladis, sneaking pastries out from the kitchens and practicing swordfight with his brothers. He wasn't in his warm room, tucked in his bed by his mother's kind smile and a soothing story. Instead, he was about to take one of the biggest risks of his life and try to trust elves whom he'd barely met days ago (although with Legolas' craziness, it seemed more like an eternity).

He snapped back to reality and scanned his surroundings. He remembered what Legolas had told him before. Five minutes. He had to survive five minutes, or else he and Silad's plan would never work...assuming all went as planned. He gulped. But how could he ever have a chance? How could he ever fight Raknak, who probably got elite training and was many times stronger and taller than him? More experienced too, Estel realized, paling slightly. Still...he needed to have hope. Hope in himself, even if there was barely any. He could win...he was smarter, faster, more agile. And what had his father said to him? "Even one day, strength must bow to wisdom. For bones must tire and flesh must rot, but knowledge never withers."

He was already surrounded by a ring of twenty orcs, although more seemed to be approaching, anxiously chewing on pieces of raw meat and laughing to each other, commenting and betting on who'd win. Some bets were in Westron, and not much to Estel's surprise, the bets were on Raknak. There were others who bet for Estel...but they were drunk, so they didn't really count.

Anyways, luckily for Estel, they kept their distance, meaning that Estel had an ample ground for fighting. There were a few rocks to his right and a massive oak tree - which strangely hadn't been chopped off - to his left. His boots touched the ground. It was slightly muddy, because of some rain that he'd heard had been assaulting the area nearby. He frowned, that wasn't exactly the best thing ever. That could work against him, since he might slip while fighting or get stuck while running. But then...

It could also work in his favor.

Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted by the harsh cry of a horn. Approaching them, was Raknak. He was wearing dark armour, a complicated set of clothing that included a lot of iron, leathery straps and steel details. Also, hanging from one of his hands was a MASSIVE sword, possibly made of bronze or some sort of rich, pure material. In all, along with Raknak's huge stature and bulging muscles, he looked pretty glorious. It made Estel want to frown at his sorry leather outfit and the limp knife in his right hand. Although that wasn't the biggest trouble. The thing was that behind Raknak, were just about ten other elite bodyguards, 'high-ranking-looking' orc officials and...

Bulgan.

Truth be told, he was even uglier in person. Half of his face was deformed, swollen into a preposterous state and the other half was slightly burned. His eyes were dark and beady, like two chasms of death, cold and emotionless. He was even shorter than Estel expected, perhaps just one inch taller than Estel and much shorter than Legolas. Still...was he muscular! His arms were like two giant beefy hammers, full of muscles. His body, he wagered considering the amount of bulk and strength they had, could rival an olyphaunt's! He was armoured in obsidian, dark and hard, cracked with several designs. Behind him, banners, probably symbolizing his family rule, glowed red.

Great, another red thing. Fantastic. Another mental souvenir for me if I actually get out of this trouble! sighed Estel internally as he squinted at the orc, trying not to show any fear or weakness...sentiments which he was feeling right now.

"See, father?" hissed Raknak pointing a finger at Estel. "This is the runt who dared challenge me and my glorious abilities! He will pay for the price! Watch as his blood spills on our banner!"

"Mmm hmm," mumbled Bulgan...almost as if he were bored. Maybe several others had already gone through Estel's situation. He turned to the boy, gazing at him with an almost interesting expression. "And who are you, anyways? You must be incredibly stupid to challenge one of my line, much more my eldest son."

Eldest son? Well, fantastic. Another trait that could go against him. "I-I-" For a while, Estel couldn't speak out and almost choked on his fake orc accent, causing everybody to laugh, much to his environment. "I am Garshu, my lord."

"Oh yes, the manure cleaner," snorted Bulgan.

"M-My lord, you know of me?"

"Of course I do," the orc grunted, stepping closer to Estel. "I know all of my orcs and I know what they're doing, no matter where they are, who they're with, when I met them. I have memorized each of their names, abilities, looks, strengths, weaknesses..." Then he stepped forward so close, that his nose was only one inch away from Estel's face. "And their very own smells."

Estel gulped, taking one hesitant step backwards. "I-I am glad, my lord."

"Pft? Glad, I'd be everything but that if I were in your situation right now," scoffed Bulgan and then he turned and looked at his son expectantly. "Well then Raknak, this little fool should be no fierce opponent to defeat."

"Indeed, father," hissed Raknak, his bloody mouth turning into a sly smirk. He held his sword with renewed vigor, something that alarmed Estel greatly...and then he stepped forward and swung it right at Estel's face! "I'LL MAKE SURE TO MAKE AN OFFERING OUT OF HIS GUTS!"

The five minutes started now.

Estel hissed inwardly, ducking and sliding to the left. He wondered why there hadn't been any proper sanctions or bowing routines, as his brothers in Imladris had always taught him to do whilst fighting an adversary...but then, manners meant nothing here, with all these barbaric creatures.

Raknak growled, glaring at Estel angrily. He stepped forward again and did a triple chop. Fortunately, with Estel's sharp reflexes, he was able to dodge his way out. Still, his moves were so quick that they threw Estel out of balance, making him stumble backwards. Grunting, Estel increased his grip on his knife and rolled out of the way, just as Raknak's sword was about to cut through his chest. He then quickly hopped up and tried to run in circles, as if to confuse the orc and befuddle his senses.

He wished time could go quicker, but it seemed like an eternity. For an entire minute, all Estel could do was try to dodge Raknak's blows. It was like a cat and mouse chase, the young boy realized, and so far, it was working all right. For the moment, he had no straight plan on how to try to defeat Raknak, but he first needed to find the orc's weakness.

"Stop running!" hissed Raknak, waving his sword with anger. "You can't avoid me forever, you traitorous runt!"

Estel supposed there was some logic in that. The massive orc, despite Estel's agility and speed, had already landed three blows on him. Only one of the blows was actually major and had ended as a small bruise but Estel had to admit, it was pretty tiring. He might be one of Imladris' best runners but eventually...you got tired. And once he did, he'd have to fight. The young boy huffed his cheeks and sighed. As much as he didn't want to admit it, the orc was right. He couldn't run forever.

Four minutes.

Estel paused, turning himself to the right down as he blocked another hit from the sword. Unfortunately, he landed on top of the rocks that were there and from his knee, he heard a small but audible crack. He hissed. Just his luck. Sucking in his breath, he hopped out of the way just in time to avoid another healthy slice from the orc, who growled once more.

From the corner of his eye, the boy could see Bulgan frown slightly, although to most people he'd look nothing but bored. And Estel knew he wasn't a professional mind reader like his father was, but he could clearly see that the orc was doubting his son's confidence...and so did said being. Estel realized that Raknak's moves were more careful now, more deliberate, as if he finally realized some kind of flaw of Estel's.

Which shouldn't have been so hard since Estel had tons of them.

The boy gulped. He had to come up with a strategy...and fast. But that, he knew, would require actually stepping out closer to Bulgan and actually fighting back. And he wasn't actually sure if he could do it. All he had to do, after all, was evade him until Legolas and Silad's plan worked...

But then, Estel was tired of letting others do his work.

Suddenly, much to Raknak's evidence surprise, Estel charged up to Raknak with a small battle cry. He was building up speed, he realized, and from where he was he could see Raknak's armour clearly. Every bulge, every strap, every button, every hole-wait, every hole? Estel headed straight for that. Right under his breastplate, very close to his armpit, he could see a tiny hole. It was a good chance for him, since it was over his heart but it was small and a sword would never be able to slice through it.

For the first time, Estel was lucky he had a knife.

Raknak looked bewildered for a split second, but as Estel came running, his knee burning like a fire, he went calm and easily deflected the move and making a clean slash across Estel's chest, making some blood splutter out.

Three minutes.

Estel coughed. He was incredibly surprised that he coughed some splatters of blood out. He was lucky the slash was light and wasn't deep enough to hit any major organs or arteries, but it was still bleeding and it was still burning like a fiery balrog. He threw himself into the ground, almost passing out with the pain. Clutching his bloody armour tightly, he wheezed slightly as the orc walked towards him, with a triumphant grin in his face.

Estel groaned. Many orcs were whispering to themselves but he wasn't going to let that distract him.

Crawling across, Estel slid through the mud like a snake, ignoring how mushy and disgusting it felt. Besides, his chest wound was still fresh and was pretty sensitive to everything. But...at least it was better than dying, right? He evaded another cut from Raknak, although the side did hit him hard near the abdomen. And it hurt but Estel knew it would only burn for a few seconds. It would be worth it.

Raknak growled, heading towards him with his sword high up. "THAT'S IT! I'm going to DESTROY YOU, you scum!"

Estel only grinned to himself, waiting for the right moment. Just as the blade was about to go down on his head, his hands grabbed the mud and then he got up, easily sliding away to the opposite side of the 'arena,' making Raknak stab his sword into the muddy place Estel had been in. Trying to take his sword out from the mess, he looked behind him and glared at the boy.

The boy grinned and he did the unexpected: he threw mud at his face.

Raknak growled, hissing. Abandonning his sword in the floor, he was trying to wipe the mud away from his face. Apparently orcs had hygiene issues too. Estel grinned triumphantly and using the mud once again, he slid across and made a thick slice down on his arm. Blood came out and he tried to swat Estel away, like one would do to a fly. Estel, however, was able to easily swerve in the mud and sliced him once more, using his knees to make an epic slide through Raknak's legs and chopping a good chunk off of his ankle. Finally, Estel made a twist in mid-air, almost as if he were a dancer and stabbed Raknak in the shoulder, although it wasn't very deep.

Estel stood up, wiping some mud out of his hands. However, much to his dismay, Raknak had wiped most of the mud away from his face and had taken his sword out already. And while his wounds were bleeding, he didn't seem all that That meant his temporal advantage was over...Estel grumbled to himself. He knew it had been too good to be true.

Estel and Raknak fought for a good while, parrying, evading and stabbing. The boy pretending to be orc found out that the mud was a huge advantage for him. He was lucky he'd agreed to go skating with the twins near the Bruinen in winter time, when everything was a frozen beauty, or else he'd never be able to maneuver through the mud as elegantly as he'd been doing. Raknak had tried, of course, but he'd always failed miserably, slipping and often giving Estel a chance to retaliate back, like a scorpion.

Two minutes.

However...it never lasted.

Estel realized he'd been an idiot. He realized that by the smile Bulgan had...had he told his son tactics beforehand? Of course he had! Estel whacked himself in the head internally. Why hadn't he asked Legolas for any tactics? The elf might've looked young to him, but Estel knew that he definitely was a good warrior. He'd proved it over and over several times. Why hadn't he asked for any ideas? Had he been too caught up in the action? The excitement? The adrenaline?

Well, whatever it was, it sure wasn't helping him now.

He didn't know how, but it was as if Raknak had gained thrice more energy. And then it was when Estel realized what the orc's strategy had been: gain enough energy to make stronger attacks and drain Estel faster. Of course, that must be it! Or else Raknak could've easily retaliated to each of his moves. He was just doing a show, making everything look pretty.

Raknak attacked fearsomely. To every block and parry Estel had, Raknak had at least two more attacks. He bumped, attacked, sliced and he even used punches! And since his hand was bloody huge, a packed combo of tight flesh and muscles...it hurt, especially when it had hit the side of his jaw. For the rest of the battle, it hurt pretty terribly but he dismissed it. He was sure it wasn't dislocated and if it wasn't, he could easily get some herbs to treat it later.

Although Estel did spit out one of his baby teeth.

This fueled him. He was angered. And of course, Estel, being Estel, just had to charge blindly into him once more, trying to get to stab him in the heart. However, Raknak easily flipped him away. Grabbing Estel by his shoulders, he shook them and then he threw Estel into the floor, smashing his face against the muddy earth. He groaned, rolling around and getting kicked over and over again by Raknak, who was laughing maniacally.

One minute...that was all. One minute left for this misery.

The remaining minute was spent playing with him.

Raknak had A LOT of fun...but Estel didn't. The other orcs also seemed to enjoy the show, showing their support by hooting and laughing, raising their raw pieces of meat and their fists. The orcs who had been drunk and now were somewhat sober, the ones who had bet for Estel, muttered to themselves, grumbling. Still, even with his injuries, Estel was disoriented...everything became a blur, the sounds, the lights, the colors.

The entire minute was spent beating him up. Estel didn't know that someone was capable of causing or feeling such a great amount of pain...but it happened. Estel felt like one big punching bag: used and about to be ripped off apart. Every time he tried to look up or even stand, he was kicked. Luckily, no organs or major arteries were hit in the process, and neither were any blades involved.

Still, it was as if Mandos himself were torturing him. It seemed as if Raknak had infinite amounts of energy! He didn't plan to stop. He did everything possible to hurt him. He kicked him, punched him, slapped him, swatted him, crushed him, threw him, squashed him and once, much to Estel's indignation, he even spit on the boy!

Suddenly, Estel's suffering was interrupted when Raknak grabbed him from his collar with one hand as if he were as light as a feather and headed towards the tree that Estel had previously been in.

And then, he found that the minute was already up...what was wrong with Legolas and Silad? Had their plan failed? Estel squirmed childishly in Raknak's grip, trying to evade the hits he gave him in the face but he found out that he couldn't. Soon, Raknak had taken out his sword and had pinned Estel to the tree with it. Then, as he tried to pluck it out, he saw Raknak smile and pull out a devilish-looking crooked blade. "Let the games begin!"

"WAIT! You're breaking the rules," said Estel frantically hoarsely, his orc accent fading completely. "You can't have two weapons..."

Raknak frowned at him for a while until he was reminded of what he was to do. "Oh, I don't recall making any rules. Besides, you should know by now...that I don't play by the rules. I play the dirty way...if that's going to make me win, which always is, filth. Now...where should we begin? Ah, yes. Those-"

And suddenly...all he saw was red.

A massive explosion was created at his left and he could see the splinters of glass lodge themselves into some orcs as a sort of crystalline orb broke next to a crowd of 15-20 orcs, killing them instantly. Inside, a chemical reaction had happened and now, fiery flames covered the orcs and were spreading to five others, burning them all and making them panic. Another bomb exploded to Estel's right, so close to him that he could literally smell the scent of burned flesh and ashes. 7 orcs were killed instantly with that bomb, while 6 others crawled in pain in the floor, moaning.

Everything went down to chaos. The orcs were going mad, unleashing their weapons and with Bulgan throwing them angry orders. The guards moved back to their places and everybody even dropped their meat in order to grab any weapon or sharp object they could find to protect themselves. They looked around, trying to find out this invisible foe ...when they suddenly realized their surroundings.

EVERYTHING was on fire!

Estel thought it was strangely beautiful. In a way...well, it was on fire! So much was being burned, destroyed and killed. Tents were burning down, mines had thick trails of smoke coming out and the four torches surrounding the campground peacefully were now askew in the ground, spreading waves of fire across the campgrounds, fires which the orcs were desperately trying to drown our with water but to no avail. More bombs exploded, blurs past Estel as he remained pinned down to the tree. He hated seeing such destruction...but well, this was good red. This, was the fire of freedom. The fire of victory. The fire of determination, a sign of fighting back! Very poetic, Estel thought, in a way.

And then, in the crowd that had formed around Estel and Raknak, the orcs dispersed, falling down dead. Silad was a silver blur, his hair twisting in thick clumps as he swung his sword with renewed vigor. Fire, even brighter than the one surrounding them, shone in his eyes. He was a truly astounding thing, whirling around like a spinning top and ducking, evading, parrying and slashing back with such elegance, he might've as well as been dancing! Still, he was but one elf and he currently had a swarm of more than twenty orcs surrounding him, who constantly replaced their fallen kin in their quest to greedily drink elf blood.

Legolas was too far away as well. From the corner of the eye, Estel had seen how Legolas had fired an arrow tied with a piece of rope to the ground from the highest floor of the main orc tower (one which was currently burning) and slid down with his own bare hands. Then, he'd watched as the elf had headed straight for Bulgan, the fire in his eyes as bright as Silad's and he had now currently shot down 7 of his bodyguards just with arrows, dealing with 3 of them at the same time with just the aid of a kitchen knife.

Estel sighed. His turn now. He looked up in front of him. It seemed Raknak himself was stupefied, looking around in awe, although not good one. His jaw was dropped and his beady eyes were even more tiny, cowardice crowding into them. Estel then summoned his courage...it was HIS time! Payback time. Ignoring the bruises, scratches, cuts, fractured bones, abrasions and blood loss he'd receivde from this brute, he was going to have mercy. He was going to give him a quick death.

The boy grabbed his knife, looked for the hole under Raknak's breastplate and stabbed him through the heart.

Then Estel took off his orc helmet, taking off his disguise immediately. "I am NO filth!"

Raknak hissed at him, wheezing immediately. He tried to reply but he found himself seeking for fresh air, but didn't get it because Estel stabbed him again. It wasn't meant to do as much damage, just for him to get away from Estel, but he ended up stabbing Raknak in the eye. The orc growled, howling in pain as he grabbed his bleeding eye and chest and doubled backwards. Moaning and groaning, he took several steps backwards blindly and accidentally slipped, landing in the mud. However, his head wasn't so comfortable, it had landed near the ton of rocks where Estel had fractured his knee in and...CRACK! Raknak's eyes went blank, a breath of air came out with a gasp and a dent formed in the skull.

Estel winced, but he had worse things at hand. He yanked Raknak's sword out of the tree branch that was pinning his shirt down and was finally free. He exercised his worn shoulder for a bit before trying to grab the sword back. Then he decided not to. It was too heavy for him and anyways, it was going to be just another burden. Looking around, he quarreled on who to help...Legolas or Silad? He thought for only a split scond, the tactician in him springing out. While Legolas was handling a more expert foe, Silad was being overwhelmed...Legolas could hang on for as long as he could, but Silad needed backup, and drastically!

Estel headed towards the crowd around Silad. He stabbed an orc in a back, making him squeal in pain. Three others looked back from Silad and Estel found himself fighting them at once. Estel picked up the first orc's spear, temporarily dropping his knife and stabbed one in the chest. He swung the spear once again and knocked another orc out. But finally, his arms sore from picking up the heavy spear, he dropped it and picked up his knife again, choosing hand-to-hand combat. Dan and Ro's lessons went back into his head and he parried several of the orc's moves, trying not to move his chest too much...it was killing him!

Nevertheless, he moved on. Silad was probably in worse condition, anyways. Everything was a blur of orcs...a stab there, a fist there, a thrown knife there. After a while though, Estel stuck to hand-to-hand combat. He found out that he wasn't that bad in that and that he had very bad aim. So knife-throwing hadn't essentially been very effective...it'd earned him a slash against the cheek and a few bruises there and there. But eventually, much to his glee, he found a small sword, light enough for Estel to hold and swing. He'd taken out seven with that sword before he dropped down in the floor, wheezing and clutching his chest tiredly. It was still bleeding slightly and a thin layer of blood coated the tunic under the armour.

Suddenly, he heard a shout and Estel turned around, watching as an orc with an axe charged towards him. Frozen in place, too tired to move, he watched with wide eyes as his imminent death was about to come to him...

And didn't.

A knife was thrown and went straight through the neck. A figure walked towards him and soon Estel found Silad looking at him, shaking him. His silver hair was now coated with red (great, red...Estel absolutely loved that color now) and so was his armour. His sword was also coated with red and he could see several injuries throughout the elf's body. "Estel! Thank the Valar you are alive...we must go now. They are regrouping their forces. There are not many left, but I am out of bombs...and I kind of used up most of yours too."

"Fantastic, because I never wanted to make orcs explode anyways," snorted Estel sarcastically.

Apparently though, Silad didn't really get sarcasm. He nodded, frowning slightly. "Erm, all right. Still, I have one of yours left so maybe you can use it for some self-defense when the time comes." He said, giving one to Estel. "We must go. There's a huge horde of orcs heading our way now."

"What about Legolas?"

"Oh...him? He'll be FINE, don't worry about him." Estel looked at Legolas' direction...and to be honest, he didn't look so 'fine.' His shoulder seemed to be in the wrong position (perhaps dislocated) and his movements were more weary. He was also in a huge layer of blood, almost as if it were savage war paint. Still, against Bulgan, he seemed to be in the lead. He'd landed several blows on him and the orc was also bleeding profusely. Legolas was close in performing the final blow...so Silad was right, in a way. "Worry about us instead! Oi...you seem to be pretty injured too. Can you walk?"

"No," admitted Estel bitterly. "I think I fractured my knee. All I have been doing is limp."

"Well then...it doesn't matter," said Silad and suddenly he picked up Estel and started jogging full speed.

Estel felt like a baby, but this was what he got for being careless. Besides, it actually wasn't so bad. He might've sounded selfish, but he wasn't so tired anymore and besides, Silad had that elven vitality, so Estel wasn't as much as a burden either. They were actually outrunning the orcs! They were lagging behind, panting and they had almost reached the top of the hill they were trying to pass over when suddenly, Estel saw an orc archer. He was tall and as slim as an orc could get but that wasn't important. He had an arrow nocked and ready...straight for Silad's heart.

Estel was screaming, but it was as if Silad paid him no notice. After all, they were nearly passing the hill and about to go to the other side...freedom. That was, however, before the arrow whizzed and went a bit off target but still landed in Silad's shoulder. The elven swordsman instantly hissed in pain, crying out and clutching his further injured shoulder.

In the distance, Estel felt a pang of fear. The horde of orcs that had been chasing them had returned once more...now riding wargs. It would be a few seconds or a minute only that they would be able to reach them. Estel then fingered his homemade bomb...should he use it now? There could be other times when he'd need to use it and...But Silad was also in a critical situation. Estel's heart was torn, but in the end he did the inevitable: he used it.

Aiming it well, he aimed for the first group of warg-riding orcs. He aimed for the first five and aimed well, thank the Valar. They were all engulfed in fiery flames and so were the few four warg-riding orcs that were beside them. However, there was no time for victory: more than seven warg-riding orcs were coming from behind, spears and shield in hand. Estel tried to force Silad to run on, even though he himself couldn't do much.

In the corner of his eye, however, there was hope.

Legolas looked up from his battle and watched in horror as the orcs headed towards Silad. He seemed to already have the map in his posession, clutching it like there was no tomorrow but was fighting ferociously with Bulgan to keep it in his hands. But as soon as he saw Silad and Estel, he seemed to understand that he couldn't linger any longer. With one great fist, he knocked Bulgan out unconsciously and started running towards them, the map in his pocket and with his bow and arrow out. He was shooting arrows wildly and while all of them had hit their targets, he wasn't invincible and he was too late for Silad.

A warg came forward and munched an entire leg off Silad. Silad howled in pain as the flesh and blood became evident and Estel had to stop himself from vomiting right there. He forced himself to be brave and even with his fractured knee, he stood up from where he had been kneeling and grabbed Silad's sword. And although it was far heavier than anything he'd held, he summoned all his strength and stabbed it right through the warg's face.

They both hissed, the warg slumping down dead and Estel's arms giving up. However, more wargs were coming, although not as many as before. Still, Estel knew that he and Silad had no chance against the five wargs. He closed his eyes. It was so dark...and cold. How come? Was this how death felt like? Foreign but so very cold? Well...at least it wasn't red. At least he could sleep and rest. At least, he could-

He was interrupted by something falling on top of him.

The air run out of his lungs and he quickly opened his eyes. A warg had fallen dead upon him and Estel hissed in pain as he forced the huge mass of fur and flesh off him. The stench was disgusting too, and Estel didn't think he could wash the smell off him any time soon. He struggled to stand slightly up but ended up falling once more down to the floor. However, he now had a better view of the battlefield...and it remained the same: blood and fire. At least though, the five wargs that had been about to devour Estel and Silad were dead, arrows lodged in their backs.

Estel then felt a surge of happiness as he saw Legolas running towards them. However, an anguished cry coming from Silad next to him twisted his attention and Estel turned to the silver-haired elf. Soon, Legolas was right beside them, panting and full of blood, dirt and sweat. He clasped one of Silad's forearms and tried to shake him.

"Silad, Silad...come on, don't abandon me here. Don't leave!" he whispered. "Come on! YOU HAVE TO MAKE IT!"

Estel almost swore he saw Silad shake his head. "N-No," he spluttered, his voice a thin croak, blood coming out. Legolas cut off a bit of his shirt in order to wipe it away. "I-I cannot. B-But y-you can. You need to get out of here. Y-You and E-Estel. Be safe."

"No! We're not going to abandon you!" That was Estel's voice.

"I'm s-sorry, b-but ´tis the way of life. I-I always k-knew I was going to die," whispered Silad. "B-But at least I-I will die with honor. A-At least I died fighting. At least I-I c-cleaned my sins. D-Died protecting-"

"Sh, sh...now, now. You're not going to die. No, no...don't speak, you'll only tire yourself more," said Legolas, about to cut off a larger piece of fabric from his shirt. He was desperate, tears forming in his eyes. His hands trembled. "All right, I'll make a bandage and we'll do something about your leg. Once we get out of here, maybe I'll find a way to purge the infection out and-"

"W-We? There was never a-a we," said Silad and then slowly raised his hand to touch Legolas. "Go. Escape. Live y-your lives at your fullest. I am nothing, Legolas. But you do m-matter. Y-You and E-Estel...have great destinies ahead of you. That is my final wish. Live. I will die happily because o-of this chance. T-Thank you."

The tears finally came out from Estel's eyes as he heard Legolas say, amidst his sobs. "No...thank you, Silad. I will never forget this."

"Nor will I," said Estel.

Silad nodded and then Legolas sighed, closing his eyes. Then, out of a sudden, with almost renewed fire in his veins, he picked up Estel and they ran. Estel, however, still saw what they did to Silad. He was screaming incoherently, crying and banging Legolas, urging him to go back and help him. He watched as the wargs temporarily stopped their chase and sunk their teeth into his flesh, tearing him apart. He watched as his body parts were torn apart, as the blood streamed out, as the cries of pain echoed the sky and as Bulgan suddenly came from behind. He'd recovered surprisingly quick and with a sick grin, one which made Estel hate him even more, he brought out his sword and...cut off Silad's head. He held his head up, almost as if it were a trophy...but Estel noticed something. And it almost wanted to cry even harder.

He'd never seen a dead head smile so happily.

Legolas ran as if all of Mordor were chasing them. He ran until his legs felt like lead and rubber...but even that wasn't enough. Because of Legolas' speed, they were now several feet in front of the wargs and orcs...but soon, they would catch them. Legolas suddenly paused, dumping Estel absently in the floor and panted, sweat sticking to his shirt. Then, he found his stunning blue orbs looking at him and a paper being slipped into his hand. Confused, Estel looked up at him.

"I don't want Silad's sacrifice to have been made in vain," he responded. "Go. Go to my home. Go to Mirkwood. Both of us won't make it...but you will. Hide. Starve. Run. Cry. Do anything you can...but many lives, including Silad's, will have been in vain. I will stay behind as a decoy, give you time. And no...they won't kill me. I'm sure of it. Just-Just go. Tell them it is from Legolas and that it is a code Alpha operation...RUN!"

And Estel, too tired and stupefied, didn't even argue. He felt so selfish, running away when he knew Legolas was never going to make it...but he was. He nodded and then, as well as he could, he started running. As he ran, his legs at their maximum, he heard the sound of silver. The sound of fighting. He forced himself to block it out as he ran, reaching into the thick foliage of the trees. But even then...he didn't stop. He kept running. Running like a madman until he was sure there were no orcs on his trail. And then, he threw himself into the ground, exhausted.

However, he forced himself to keep going. Mirkwood. Mirkwood. Mirkwood. That one word echoed in his brain and he thought about Silad and Legolas...yes! He was going to keep moving. Keep walking. Keep running. He wasn't going to stop until the air ran out of his lungs, his heart stopped beating and he reached his goal: Mirkwood. Summoning his last trails of strength, he stood up and was about to continue on his way.

Then, suddenly, there was a sword at Estel's neck, about to chop off his vulnerable flesh.

O-O-O

AN: Hello there! First of all...I'm SO, SO SORRY! I haven't updated in a while...again. It's been a month or so and I know the wait can be excruciating. But I guess this is sort of my late Thanksgiving gift (for those Americans, Canadians and foreigners who celebrate it...I personally don't because of the historic events that happened)! Wasn't it kind of worth it? I mean, it's...not bad, in my opinion. Although yeah, I did kill off Silad. By the way, who do you think is the mysterious stranger that is threatening Estel...?

Still, my life is still packed with schoolwork, family problems and clubs. Talking about clubs...I got accepted into this prestigious honor society I've always wanted to be in! Yay for me! And I'm now working with them to help this organization that aids blind people, which is an awesome cause. :)

Now, the most important thing: THE BATTLE OF FIVE ARMIES OFFICIAL TRAILER!

I cried! It was pretty beautiful and I came up with all these awesome theories (I'll only mention two below) just by watching two minutes worth of awesomeness. I LOOOOVVVEEEDDD everything! From the flames engulfing Lake Town, to Thranduil's army shooting all their arrows simultaneously, to the bats flying over Legolas and Tauriel to the armoured Company of Dwarves, to Bilbo and Kili's confrontations to Thorin, to amazing Hugo Weaving in his shiny Elrond armour (is it identical to the one in Dagorlad?) talking to Saruman, to Bilbo sneaking out to go to Thranduil and Bard's camp, to the badass action scenes (although I was disappointed that we saw no real dwarves in the trailer...BUT PIG AND GOAT-RIDING DWARVES IN THE FUTURE! WOO HOO!). And sure, I hate the weird elf-dwarf relationship between Tauriel and Kili, but I also thought it was kind of sweet that he gave her the stone!

Okay, so some interesting theories (and with some spoilers too...):

- Right...so about the weird Azog-is-still-alive thing. I mean, it was kind of disturbing but it actually kind of works out nicely, although it's still kind of strange. According to what we saw in the trailer, THIS is how I think the battles are going to go.

Legolas will be continuing to fight Bolg and he either 1, fights him alone and wins or 2, fights him with Beorn and wins or 3, fights with Tauriel and wins or 4, there's a badass dad-son fight that obviously ends in victory. Then, Thorin will be fighting Azog. Kili and Fili will most likely die by protecting Thorin from Bolg's bodyguards. Tauriel, grief-stricken, sees this (and probably with some help from Legolas) kills the remaining body guards and is about to kill Azog, since she's freaking pissed. However, as we see in one part of the trailer, she gets thrown into the wall and dies afterwards. Then, Thorin kills Azog but gets mortally wounded and Beorn saves him, dragging him out and finishing Azog up.

It's just my opinion, 'cause Peter Jackson could do some crazy non-canonical twist that none of us expected...but who knows?

-OKAY! Second theory about something. I mean, it's not actually a theory, it's just something I thought of. We see Thranduil go to the ruins of old Dale, where there are a bunches of corpses. There, as stated by many behind-the-scenes videos, he also meets Gandalf and Tauriel. It's obvious that he talks with Gandalf before going into battle while he's in his tent but Tauriel? Well, we see him, with a pretty angered expression, as he speaks to someone with bright red hair (oh gee, I wonder who it could be), in the same ruins he was first seen in, in the trailer. He states, "I came to reclaim something of mine."

What...What if he's not only referring to the white gems he wants in the Mountain? What if he's also referring to Legolas and he's banishing Tauriel (she's definitely getting banished either way) for not only abandoning her post, having 'ties' with the enemy but also for putting his son in trouble?

Just saying!

What about you guys? Do you guys have any good predictions or things you noticed in the trailer? Review, follow and favorite! Thanks for being awesome and keep reading guys! I totally appreciate your patience and good vibes towards my works!

-Badass Archer Daughter

Anyways...reviews! :D

Masked Man 2: Haha! Hello there! :) I'm sorry I didn't have the horse POV here, but I absolutely promise I'll put it in the next chapter. I just had to put down some of the more important things here, say, killing things. Now, I'm glad you love Legolas and Estel's chemistry! It is very unique and is it strange that I'm glad you're in stitches too? 'Cause I'm glad you find it funny, but I'm not mean enough to want you in actual stitches and...you get it. And yes, both Legolas, Estel, Gilraen and Beluriel are warming up to each other. And yes, Gilraen is Estel's mother's actual name...haha, I wouldn't be creative enough to create such an awesome name. And yes, Lord Elrond and Thranduil are very different, although they were once friends. Wow! Now that I realize it...there was a lot of friendship in this chapter! Anyways, thanks for reading and reviewing!

Schattenjagd: Hey man! Thanks for the humour and review once more! So there's the thing about the Valar...I won't be doing a POV for them (who's your favorite by the way? Mine's Mandos/Námo). I will be doing a little 'confrontation' with one of them in the future in this story, but there's not going to be a POV...because I'm planning to make a story for them! That's right. It's sort of going to be crack, but I've got around the 1st chapter down. But I'm certainly doing a horse POV next chapter! And don't worry about reviewing, it's okay...volcanoes suck. LOL, just be thankful you aren't going through Mt. Doom!

Emi the Ninja: Damn right he is ;)

ChpNinjaChick: Thanks! I totally appreciate it. And yes, his humour really does add up and make the story much more interesting! And haha, when I'm reading other fanfics I'm too lazy too...but don't worry about it, nobody has asked me that. I'm...not sure if I will actually write Lord of the Rings in Legolas POV. I think it'd be kind of cool though and maybe I might try it out. I just think it's kind of strange sometimes though because you know, I'll probably never write half as good as the Professor did when he was writing "Fellowship of the Ring." So, I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

Luin: Aww, it's no problem! :) And Thranduil already met Treebeard, but he's going to meet someone else soon...

SmileyfaceofEvil: Thank you, I'm glad you are! And I understand how strange it is...Haha, I'll probably never be able to write a fourth as good as the Professor, but I guess he was a philologist and university teacher, so I guess it's his thing. And I'm glad you also think my OC's decent, I try my best to not make them or any of my characters Mary Sues or Gary Stus. Ugh, I hate those. Anyways, thanks for reading!