Lynx: Well I am back for another round of writing! Chapter eight! (Does a little dance)

Legolas: X3

Haldir: (glaring at Legolas) DISCLAIMER: LYNX OWNS ONLY THE STORY AND THE ORIGINAL CHARACTERS! ALL ELSE BELONGS TO J. R. R. TOLKIEN!

Laure: (covers ears) You don't have to yell.

Haldir: Just making sure everyone heard.

Legolas: (sticks tongue out at Haldir)

Laure: XD Well now onto the story before these two rip each other to pieces.

Haldir: Grrr.

Legolas: Guh-rr.

Dawn was just beginning to surface, lighting the strip of velvet black in the sky, turning it to a vibrant orange. Birds were beginning to wake and twitter their songs into the cold chill of the morning.

Laure received little comfort from the small amount to sunlight that was beginning to seep through the tiny barred window high above her head. She had been in this dungeon now for three days; the dullness alone was enough to torture her. She wrapped her arms around herself tighter, the unmerciful autumn air chilling her right down to her bones. She let out a shuddering breath; the gust appearing as a small wisp of mist that sliced through crispness of the dungeon. Rubbing her hands against her face, she greatly disliked how frozen they felt, thanks to the thin garment the elves had provided her with.

She shivered and looked to her right. Caresir was deeply asleep on his lone cot, his unkempt black hair dangling off the side and touching the dusty floor. He neither shivered nor trembled as if he was right at home, cradled by the thick blanket of invisible ice.

Laure's shoulders quaked slightly, even as she rubbed them in turn. With a sigh, she rested her face into her arms and closed her eyes tightly, wishing sinfully for death.

The throne room was generally silent, except for the slight whisper of a conversation. King Thranduil sat upon his throne conversing with Lolindir.

"My lord, are you quite certain today is the day you wish to set out?" Lolindir asked with his soft-spoken voice rich in concern.

"Yes, I am quite certain that today is that day." Thranduil replied, smirking almost immorally. "Due to these certain circumstances, now is the best time. We will be able to greatly lower the morale of our enemies; with word that their princess is to be executed they will attack in blind rage." He paused, allowing the scandalous smile to widen; "Then we will take advantage of such a feat, and seize the war for ourselves. If we manage to flush out enough of them, we may be able to attack Elvirin."

"Do you plan to take the princess with you as insurance?" Lolindir wondered aloud, "Will you present her to Amros as proof of her captivity?"

"No… I will present to them the sword of their beloved prince." Thranduil said after some hesitation as he thoughtfully stroked his chin, "Much of their hope lies within that single weapon."

"I see you have this all planned out." Lolindir responded, giving Thranduil a stern glance.

"Of course. I have dreamed of this victory for many a decade." Thranduil said in affirmation, "We will finally receive what is rightfully ours, we will finally eliminate the opposition which has stood in our path for so long."

"…Do you plan to kill them all?" Lolindir suddenly asked after a long moment of silence, "The women? The children? The elderly? Will you slaughter them all?"

"As heartless as this may sound…" Thranduil replied, his eyes staring distractedly at a random pillar amongst the marble exquisiteness, "I do. I have done so before and I plan to do so again. I will not make the same mistake I did last time... this time they will not be able to escape."

"Hmmm…" Lolindir gave no reply.

The door at the opposite end of room suddenly flung open as a figure stepped through.

Thranduil immediately recognized the elf as Captain Anaro.

Anaro halted his brisk pace before Thranduil before dropping to one knee, "Your majesty."

"Rise." Thranduil said with his voice monotone. "What brings you here, Anaro?"

"Your army is ready, my lord." Anaro said as he brought himself to his feet, "All are fed and armed, ready to be at your command."

"Excellent. We shall set out then as soon as possible." Thranduil also rose to his feet, followed closely by Lolindir. "Let us go prepare then."

"Father!" The exclamation immediately captured all three elves' attention.

Legolas strode towards them along the green carpet from the doorway, his cobalt eyes ablaze with fury.

"Ah, my son." Thranduil smiled warmly, opening his arms in salutation, "What brings you here in such a distressed manner?"

"Why did you tell me not of how you are to march to war with Elvirin today?" Legolas uttered, his tone held a subdued anger. "The original schedule was four days from now!"

Thranduil sighed in exasperation, "Due to your… feelings… about this situation, Legolas, I did not see it as necessary to inform you."

"My feelings? I am part of your court!" Legolas argued in defense towards the accusation, "You should have informed me anyway."

"Well… now that you mention it." Thranduil looked contemplative for a moment, "The warriors could use your leadership and skill, Legolas."

"No. I will not fight your war." Legolas replied stubbornly, narrowing his eyes slightly, "This is wrong and I will not be a pawn of your game."

Thranduil's steel eyes flashed dangerously, "You dare not oppose me, Legolas."

Lolindir took a small step back, the tempers of the two members of the royal lineage combined was not something one wished to be caught in the crossfire of. Anaro simply watched the exchange with a sleek silver eyebrow raised.

"You will fight for your people." Thranduil stated in a low voice, "Do you wish to be apprehended upon treason?"

Legolas said nothing to this. His father did have a point in that matter. If he refused to represent his kin in this battle, it would be considered treason and aid to the taurens. All underneath him would believe that he was siding with the opposition. His father was impossible… all he really wanted was the reputation of the greatest warlord of Mirkwood.

At Legolas' silence, Thranduil continued sternly, "You have an hour. Get yourself prepared for the battle."

He strode away towards the exit, paying no further heed to his son. Lolindir spared Legolas a sympathetic glance before he followed after his king.

"You have a valiant vision, my prince." Anaro offered before he too pursued the two retreating elves.

Legolas stood for a moment, letting his anger wash away with every second. He knew that he had no choice but to go unless he wished to be exiled, knowing his father was that serious about the topic at hand. The elven prince decided that he would go, oh yes, but he would not touch a single tauren.

He turned on his heel and went to prepare himself for the war, lest he face his father's complete wrath.

Amros heaved another sigh, his arm falling to his desk in frustration. The other hand raked itself through his thick black hair as worry for his youngest once again consumed him. He hardly looked up at the knock to his study door.

"Come in." His deep voice was emotionless and stony.

He heard the door creak open and then close again. There were two or three footsteps until a hand rested itself on Amros' broad shoulder.

"Father, she will be okay." Valandil's voice reached his ears, "Have faith in her will to live. She will survive and be with us soon. You will see."

"The message from Thranduil we received three days ago…" Amros stared nonchalantly at one of the papers upon his desk. "After declaring the battle four days before schedule, he said that she is to be executed… how is she to survive without a head?"

"Fate will smile down upon us and return Laure to us safely." Valandil reassured him, "Somehow, Laure will find a way to live. She always does."

Amros gave no reply, instead he continued to brood.

"Come, your army is ready. Let us get you into your armour and set out." His son offered in a soft voice laced with empathy.

Amros sighed and complied, standing and heading towards his chambers.

Valandil followed wordlessly after his father. In truth, Valandil did not know if Laure would make it out of this situation alive or not, but no matter what he had to keep hope alive within his father. Valandil silently prayed that the whole ordeal would have a happy ending.

'Please, Laure, I beg of you. Please stay strong and alive.'

Shouts and commands broke the deafening silence of the dungeons, causing Laure to look up from her silent reverie. The voices were coming from outside; the streams of sunlight from the high window being contorted as many figures marched by.

Laure rose to her feet and stood on her toes upon her cot. She gazed out the barred window, watching as the many elven soldiers tramped towards the gates.

"They are going to war." Caresir's silky voice broke her attention away from the warriors.

Laure looked down at him in his cell to find him lying on his back watching her. "With Elvirin? But that is not for another four days!"

"King Thranduil sent out the order early." Caresir replied simply with a shrug of his lean shoulders.

"And how do you know this for sure?" Laure's ear flattened against her head in agitation.

"I overheard the guards speaking of it yesterday while you slept." The raven-haired elf grinned slightly at this. "They plan to use your captivity against Lord Amros and his troops."

"They cannot prove such a feat to my father, and I know for a fact that they are not taking me with them." Laure replied, her voice steady and sure.

"They already have their proof." Caresir countered her softly.

"What do you mean?" Laure hopped down from her cot.

Wordlessly, Caresir gestured his head towards the rack where prisoners' things were kept.

Laure's eyes followed his and her gaze landed on the pile of her things. She counted the full set of her brother's armour and her small sack of necessities… but there was one thing missing…

"This cannot be!" Laure exclaimed in horror, dashing over to the bars and fruitlessly grasping them, "Valandil's sword! They took it!"

"I believe they plan to present the weapon to Lord Amros." Caresir said quite calmly, "To lower the morale of him and his warriors."

"My people's hope and faith lie within that weapon!" Laure gripped the bars until her knuckles turned white; "It represents the courage and valour of a single tauren! It's a symbol of heroism that any tauren can aspire to possess! Without it…" She dared not finish that sentence.

How could she have been so foolish! So foolish as to carelessly abduct the sword without regard to consequences! Her incompetence thoroughly disgusted her! She could practically name herself a murderer now; she handed her people over to Thranduil on a silver platter decorated with confetti accompanied by a slice of cheese and a glass of wine!

She buried her face into hands in despair; she wouldn't be able to live with herself if word of Elvirin's burning ever reached her ears. It would have been all because of her! All her fault! She could practically see the faces of her family members, each one animated with disappointment and desertion.

She slid to her knees, supporting her upper body against the cold iron bars as sobs of anguish wracked her shoulders.

What had she done?

Lynx: Phew. So whatcha think? Please review!

Legolas: X3 I am such a rebel.

Haldir: Not to mention an idiot…

Legolas: What was that?

Laure: (sigh)

Haldir: You heard me!

Legolas: Grrr. (chucks script booklet at Haldir and clobbers him in the head)

Haldir: Ow! Lynx! LYNX! Legolas is throwing stuff at me! Make him grow up!

Legolas: I'm not the one that needs to grow up, you ratter. (Chucks brick of cheese)

Lynx: (entranced) ...Cheese… (Grabs and begins eating)

Laure: … Am I the only sane one left?