The sun had risen and set two more times on his journey towards the forest which bore the name, Greenwood. He did not slow his pace, during those days; only stopping when the sun sank to low for him to travel in relative safety.

Laitheryn had tried to dream of his past, forcing his mind back as far as it would go and hoping that something would spark a memory. He wished to recall more of the beautiful elf that was his Nana or the proud but kind elf that was his Adar. Every morning when he awoke with nothing new of his past, he would feel like weeping; but would not. Laitheryn would not give in to this grief without reason. If he wept, it would feel final; like a defeat. Laitheryn would continue on his way and hang his chances on hope.

So he ran on, through the wilds of Arda. He had left behind the comforting sounds of the river Anduin; which lay so far behind him that, not even with his elven sight, could he even catch a glimpse of the gently flowing river. He had lost sight of the forest he knew was Lorien before that too, and with the final sight of the small forest; he knew he dearly missed his home. And yet Laitheryn did not know which home he longed for, the village of gentle humans, Lorien, the home he could not remember; all or all three.

He had moved on, keeping just in sight of the dark trees that made up the deep forest of Greenwood. It was not wise for anyone to venture into the depths of the Great Forest, especially alone. Those that thought they could risk entry, did so at their own peril. If luck or chance was with you, you would encounter one of the many patrols that the Elvenking sent out to watch over the forest. If luck turned against you, the evils that haunted the once peaceful realm would find you and you would not escape with your life. Laitheryn was bidden to seek Greenwood with great haste, but warned not to purposely endanger his own life during that time when he would find himself outside an elven realm and alone in his flight.

Laitheryn deduced by the lay of the land that he had finally rounded the lowest section of the great forest, and was following the edges of the trees towards the north once more. This shift in direction marked his journey half way done. What was left was to continue following the lines of the trees until he encountered the surging waters of the Celduin. The rapid waterway would then split into two separate paths and he would then follow the river into the dark forest and hopefully be spotted by the elven patrols. But that was at least five days ahead of his present location.

Laitheryn was so lost in his thoughts of future paths and events that he missed the first calls of the trees; missed their whispered warnings. He did not hear their counsel and did not heed their quiet directions to hide, lest danger find him. It was only when the whispers became shouts of dismay and rage; that he finally noted their presence and slowed to a stop, to listen to the calls.

'Danger! Flee!' One yelled, its voice echoing louder than Laitheryn had ever heard before.

'Flee, Son of Nature! Evil approaches!'

'What?' He questioned.

'Flee, lest you be discovered!'

'What danger do you speak of?'

'…The servants of Mordor approach. Flee, now. Orcs approach.'

'Near now…Flee Penneth.'

'They cannot travel in direct sun; it will burn their skin and their eyes!' He protested, without thought.

From what Laitheryn had previously learned of the degraded species, they would avoid exposure to the sun, lest it burn their dark skin and shallow eyes. Thus those hours where the sun dominated the sky, had been safe for travellers. But now, it seemed that the darkness had strengthened its hold on Arda so far that even the Orcs did not fear the sun and his powers. Somehow, the rules that bound the Orcs' to the darkness of night had changed suddenly.

The voices nature became blended and confused, one cutting off the other in their panic. Laitheryn could no longer determine which spoke first and which would cut off the original call with their concerns. His head was spinning with the confusion of the wilds that surrounded him, their disgust that evil was so near and the fear that some ill would befall him. As his confusion grew as did the voices of nature.

They were approaching, just nearing the ledge that obscured Laitheryns' view. They could not see him and he could not visualize them either, but in moments they would all come within view of one another. The results of this meeting would be his death, for the trees yelled of a large group of them traveling together…and hostages…

He was running without thought, and could not determine when he had actually turned back and left the area he had stopped in. He could not determine when the crying request of nature that he flee turn from their wish, to his feet obeying their commands. But he was running, feeling the ground shake at the heavy footsteps that were just beginning to mount the top the obscuring hill, when they reached the pinnacle they would be able to look down into the mock valley he had been in. Unless he got out of sight in seconds, he would fail in his quest to regain his past, fail because he would be entertainment for the pursuing enemy. Entertainment for them was pain and torture for those that fell within their sinister gazes.

He fled, heading for the only shelter he had at that moment; twisting his original path off from the trees he had left as the sun rose in the sky that morning, and heading left of his current location. Turning from the path he had chosen to follow the edge of the Great Forest; Laitheryn now found himself running desperately towards the deep forest and the promise of the cover the trees would give. There was no other place he could hide, no natural outcroppings he could disappear into or around, no trees he could reach in time; save those that grew from the forest realm.

Laitheryn could feel the panic threatening to overwhelm his mind, as he continued towards the sheltering trees, which stood so close but still so far away. The trees of the forest reached towards him with their protective limbs, sensing his fear and the reason behind his panic. They called to him, bidding him to come to them and they would hide him as best they could. Laitheryn could barely hear their cries over the thudding of his heart, perfectly matching the pace of the Orcish feet pounding on the ground so close to him.

Just as he became aware that they had crossed the only thing keeping them from sighting him, he reached the first outcroppings of Greenwood trees and scrambled up its trunk and as high into the obscuring canopy. His heart raced, still throbbing painfully in his chest. Not in response to his desperate run, but rather the fear that coursed through him and the surrounding nature.

The orcs had paused at the top of the hill seemingly observing their environment and the empty ground that lay ahead of them. Their gazes did not travel in his direction at that moment. Laitheryn took the moment he had to observe them as well as try to control his racing heart.

They were ugly, a race destroyed long ago by the forces of darkness. This was the Dark Ones' answer to the light of the elves, a corruption of what Iluvator and the Valar made the first race to be. Where the elves were fair and just; the orcs were dark and twisted, sparing none their cruel touch.

Their skin was no longer fair it no longer glowed, faintly blessed with the colour of nature; but dark like spilt blood on earth. As if all the blood they were forced to spill had physically darkened their skin, as well as darkening their souls.

The Orcs' limbs were not slender and strong, but brutish with deep muscles forced on them due to never ending labour and torture. They became strong by the search for more blood to spill, and more lives to end, either by death or by changing their targets into what they had become.

And their faces were made of nightmares. From what Laitheryn could see their eyes no longer showed the wisdom and light that all elves were graced with, but rather cruelty and malice shone from their depths. They had shallow eyes, sunken deep into their sockets and staring out with malevolence. Their noses were sunken too, if not completely gone. And their mouths had become just as dark as the rest of their bodies, as if they were formed without lips. Several smirked at something Laitheryn could not see, showing their broken and decayed yellow teeth.

They all wore leather, darkened by the years of use doing the dark will of their master; covering the majority of their bodies. Their feet and hands were also covered by thick dark brown leather; one darkened by the earth on which they ran and the other by the endless blood that they had spilt.

In the midst of the large group there were few orcs that wore metal armour in place of leather, each spaced evenly between sections of the orc army. Laitheryn assumed that these few were the leaders of individual sections, for they seemed to be the largest and burliest of all the gathered army. It was as if the leadership was determined on who was the strongest of the groups gathered, not on skill. He vaguely wondered how many bodies the dented old metal armour had been worn by before it came to them.

Each orc carried a weapon, and had others strapped to their backs or waists. It seemed that of the seven groups that had been found for whatever purpose they had been set to, each group carried a different weapon to another. One group carried thick broad sided swords, another curved and spiked long axes and a third carried a cleaver like blade, straight on one end and serrated on the other but both ends equally dangerous. No group carried the same weapon as another, and Laitheryn could not accurately count the number of raised armaments in the air.

There were many, at least seven score stood there, and their might be more he could not see, hidden still by the obscuring hillside. Too many to be a coincidence, they had been gathered for a purpose that escaped him at this moment.

Too many to survive, if he had challenged them; they would have easily defeated him. Laitheryn said a soft prayer to the Valar that they had, somehow, missed his presence and he had escaped detection. The voices warnings' had come late due to his inattention, but not late enough that he became another victim to the Servants of Mordor.

Laitheryn frowned at that moment, listening to the whispers coming from the tree he was residing in and he tried to connect with its dialogue. Yet he could not reach to the subconscious of the tree; it did not respond to his calls as if it were listening to someone else instead. For a moment Laitheryn heard the other in the trees mind. He could hear the voice whispering to the tree, requesting something of it, but could not hear the words that were said. He pulled back just as quickly as the contact had occurred, confused by the strange third presence he had sensed.

In response to the unknown voice, the tree shifted its large branches closer, as if trying to obscure the view between him and the large Orc army. As if the owner of the voice had called on the tree to protect him. But that would mean that there was another elf near him, one he had not detected. 'But where? In the forest?'

'Cover your head…' The unknown voice whispered into his mind.

The command did not go unnoticed and the tone the unknown elf used was one that brook no defiance. It was as if this elf was used to being obeyed. Laitheryn was not one to argue an order, especially if it was common sense that he obeyed. Despite not knowing the owner of the voice he felt bidden to respond to what it requested.

With his brilliant hair tone he may just be spotted by accident within the tree. It would not be hard to miss brilliant gold on a backdrop of deep brown wood and green leaves. Laitheryn had been lucky that they were far enough away that his inattention to detail would not be observed. Moving carefully he covered his hair and curled up under his soft grey Lorien cloak, hopeful that the magic woven into it would help hide him into the bark of the tree. He hoped that his own form of elven magic would allow for his presence to be missed by the army of orcs. He peered out under the edge of the cloak.

The Orcs were beginning to move again as if their break had ended. It was then that Laitheryn could see that they were guarding something as if their lives depended on it. He frowned and peered closer at the innermost section of the Orc party, whispering prayers to the Valar that the Orcs new victims were not what he immediately assumed them to be, elves caught from the Great Forest.

Wincing as the cloak fluttered in the breeze, Laitheryn caught the edge of it and pinched it down, still watching the center of the group. They moved once more and Laitheryn could just pick up flickers of dark green cloaks and pale skin underneath. He concentrated above the whisperings of the near by trees enough to count their number.

All were being carried over the shoulders of their capturers, and the majority did not seem to realize where they were or what was occurring, being driven by their injuries into the safety of unconsciousness. The Greenwood elves had numerous wounds that Laitheryn could just see from his perspective; as if they had barely escaped a battle with their lives. There was not one among them that was uninjured. Some bore marks of blades on their skin, others deep bruises and dried cuts. Laitheryn wondered how long ago they had been attacked by the orc army. He was now sure that the one elf that had given him the suggestion and had asked the tree to protect him was among the numbers captured by the marching army.

A small section of the Orcs broke from the side they were guarding, revealing more of the elves they had captured; turning towards his direction as they did. Laitheryn now had a better view of the deep cuts and bruises which marred the skin of the elf patrol that had been overtaken, with blood drying on the fabric covering the wounds.

'Keep still.' The voice whispered again.

From the larger group that had continued on their path despite missing several of their comrades, one of the Orcs rounded on the other. Laitheryn could hear their voices arguing from where he lay.

"It is awake! I tell you it awakens!" The first insisted in a deeply accented voice.

Laitheryn could almost feel the flash of annoyance from the elder elf for being referred to in such a derogatory manner. He now was concerned for the strange elf's safety, what would the orcs do if they discovered one of their captives awake?

'Do not move.'

He resisted the urge to mention to the unknown elf that he should be more concerned with his own safety instead, especially as the orcs that were nearest to him were aware that he was responsive. Laitheryns gaze flickered back to the small group approaching his tree but a sudden movement drew his eye back to the two arguing over their elf captive. Without waiting for a response the second orc had set the captive down and rapped him smartly on the side of the head with one thick hand before giving the prone body a solid kick in the ribs. The reassurance of the awareness near him faded as the elf retreated back into unconsciousness, and he was alone once more.

Laitheryn tried to bite down the anger that surged through him, that one of his own kin would be so viciously treated, when he was so close that he could have stopped the attack if he had chosen too. Laitheryn could have easily fitted an arrow and released it on the Orc before it knew what had occurred. He could have easily killed that one and a few more before they realized they were under attack and where the arrow haled from. But he had not helped when he could have, and now it was too late for him to assist the captives. The small group that had broken off had reached his tree in his distraction. Laitheryn bit down a curse and went as still as he could.

"I said I saw something. In the trees, it was!" One yelled. "I saw something move!"

"It was nothing. You saw nothing. Only tricks by trees and tired eyes, you did." A second said.

"I saw it move! I know what I saw! And I smells Elf!"

To this the second raised a hand and without giving any thought that this was their kin, he punched the first one squarely in the mouth."Of course you smells elves! We have prey!"The one that punched the firstargued. "We reek of elves!"

"I smell one too." A fourth answered. "Closers than the capt'ves."

"Aye. The airs reeks of them!" The third continued. "Your nose is deceived by the air."

"I saw the tree move strange, like something hides within it." The first argued. "These elves have tricks with trees and nature. One could have followed us!"

"The capt'n wants us backs…" The second responded. "I won't listen to more of this talk, maggot. There is no elf that escaped our net, and none were left that were still living."

Laitheryn tried not to breathe a sigh in relief that they would soon leave the ground under him and return to their guard. He could hear their heavy footsteps beginning to retreat from where he lay in hiding, and returning up the path they had come. He could follow them…and discover their intent for their captives.

'But that would delay my return to Greenwood… Dare I risk breaking path?'

He closed his eyes in thought, searching for an answer that was beyond him. For some reason he felt bidden to follow the orcs and their captives, and as much as he fought against that decision, none felt more right. 'I cannot leave them to their fate. I am sorry, Ada. Hold on a bit longer.'

"There!" The one that had been insistent on seeing him yelled suddenly, surprising the elf and shocking him out of his thoughts.

Laitheryn heard the projectile whistling through the air, hurled at his location by the strength of the Orc that had thrown it. The long spear like object sailed the distance between the enemy and the tree he was in, blurring in the air by the speed in which it was thrown.

There was no pause, no motion and no second to realize what had occurred, as the spear embedded painfully. His world went dark and all Laitheryn could feel was agony as the cut deepened and began to bleed out all over him. He raised his hand to his face, now covered by a dark sticky substance and stared at it in shock, unprepared for what had occurred. Laitheryn wasn't sure if he was the one screaming in agony, or if it was the tree.

Authors note: I know the forth chapter was boring, and I apologize for that. I hope this chapter and the ones upcoming are more interesting than the forth. I have plans to post the sixth chapter on saturday, April 8th.