Dedication: For my A-W-E-S-O-M-E Beta, Comics4TheFeels. Check out the art she drew in my profile! :D


Chapter Six


They were moving slow, as a result of their number. But that would change in a bit, Legolas realized, as they neared the other end of the Forest. The groups would be separating in the Old Ford.

Nothing eventful had happened so far. No evil would dare attack a group of travelling elves, especially one where trained wood elves kept guard of. They were the fifth and last group that left Mirkwood, as was planned a few months earlier. It was large enough a force to threaten away any possible attacks, but small enough for him to keep track of everyone.

"Will you be going to Rivendell?" a now familiar voice asked behind him.

He smiled at Tauriel. "Of course," he answered. "I would not leave you," he kept a serious expression, but there was mischief in his eyes.

"I'm honoured," she smiled back, entertaining him. "The wedding was beautiful," she continued after a bit of a walk.

"It was," he agreed.

It was a beautiful wedding, although most of the details, he could not remember. He had also spent most of his time with the Mirkwood elves, and she with the Imladris. He had wanted to speak with her more, after they separated in the glade, but they had each their own friends to be with that night. It was a solemn ceremony, most found it hard to join the celebrations considering the disappearances that had occurred. But the council would not have the celebrations cancelled. It had been vowed upon, and must continue no matter what.

The couple were happy, however. As were a few others.

Legolas himself was also thankful, the wedding served as a distraction from the chaos that had undergone.

"I was able to speak with Glines last night," he continued, speaking quietly to her. "She mentioned your name. So you have already met her?"

Tauriel nodded as she pulled her horse behind her. "We met earlier. Aegnir introduced me to her a few nights back at the castle."

"You also know Aegnir?" he asked, surprised.

"Yes," then she smiled. "He speaks of you often. He admires you very much."

"We have been friends since we were young," he explained. "But he has never stepped out of Mirkwood, not until today." Aegnir led the first batch that left Mirkwood.

"Ah," Tauriel exclaimed, as she guided her horse over a large uprooted tree. "Why not? I have seen him in trainings, and he was one of the best people there."

"You observe well," he noted. "He had always been needed in Mirkwood, whenever we others would leave. But since Adassir disappeared..." he faltered.

"He has been made the captain. And now he must lead the journey," she said, understanding.

He nodded. A large twig cracked under the weight of his foot, but the erupting conversation from all over the group drowned its noise. "It was difficult for father, to trust him," he said.

She looked at him curiously.

"He is not originally from Mirkwood. He was taken in from a family who claimed to be from Avallone," he said.

She did not answer for a while, and Legolas walked on. "He is from Avallone?" she asked, almost in a whisper, when she caught up with him.

"Yes, I only remember his mother. I met her when I was very young, she had a—," he stopped, when he noticed her face. She was pale, and her eyes looked both scared and hopeful at the same time. "Tauriel," he said, as he turned to face her, worried.

"I just..." she hesitated, as she walked ahead of him, leading the horse she held. Now it was he who caught up with her.

"Are you okay?" he asked, walking beside her, trying to gaze at her face.

She was quiet for a while, before turning to look at him. She was smiling, almost as if nothing had happened. "Of course," she said, in a tone that solicited no reply.

He wanted to talk, but knew he could not push her. Not this time. They walked in silence after, now listening to the conversations around them. Most of the elves in their group were young, or closely related to Lord Elrond, many of them had no knowledge of handling weapons. Much like Tauriel, he reflected. But that was before. She had improved so much in Mirkwood, and he would have wanted to watch her improve more, but that was not possible. She belonged in Rivendell. But some part of him did not wish it was so. She was a friend he would greatly miss.

"Ah," an elf before them exclaimed, shielding his eyes.

Bright light cut through the tree shade. It looked like a yellow line that connected the ground to the leaves that covered the skies. It was the first spot of sunlight they had seen since their exit from the palace and into the forest. Legolas could see green grass ahead. They were quiet still, all of them upright, reaching for the sun that was up ahead. The brightness of the incoming area, in contrast with the dark they had gotten used to, was painful to the eyes.

Legolas squinted, but like the group that traveled with him, walked faster. They were all eager to bask in the heat.

"There we go," Tauriel said softly as they stepped out of the forest's cover. The whole sky was bathed in an orange hue and the sun was hanging low in the sky, only half of it hanging like an overturned bowl. Only a few moments and it would be dark. He looked just in time to see Tauriel close her eyes as she took a deep breath.

"You love the sunset," he commented.

She nodded, then looked at him. "It is a sign that the stars are about to come out, and I love that even more." she said. "I think all of us do."

He considered. "It is beautiful and calming, but I do not love it as much as you do. You love it like a child would love his parents," he had noticed it in the way she would simply stand and stare at the skies in all those times they had trained in the night.

She smiled as they walked on, the sun's heat seeping through their clothes. "But is that not what we are, really? We live and die in this earth, under the guidance of their light. Are we not children of the sun and stars and earth? It is the only explanation of why we would fight and sacrifice so much for the trees and land we live in."

He raised a brow. He agreed with Tauriel in almost everything they spoke of. It was why he had always appreciated the time they spent together—she could understand him like no one else had. But now he shook his head. "It is because of duty. We fight for the land because we know that that is what we have to give it in return. Because we know that the survival of our kin and of ourselves are hinged on the very air we breathe and land we step on. We have a duty to protect it. To make sure that none of it goes to harm. Not love," he told her.

Tauriel opened her mouth to retort but a voice cut her opportunity. "Spoken like a true prince."

It was Meginor, Legolas' childhood friend. He was to be the guide for the Lothelorien elves in their group. He smiled as he clapped his hand on Legolas' shoulder.

Legolas looked around, his body still feeling warm from the bicker they had. They had already reached the Old Ford. "It has been a pleasure to travel with you and Lord Elrond's cousins, my lady," Meginor bowed to Tauriel, then turned to face Legolas. "We will continue on to Lothlorien," he said.

Legolas nodded. "We will meet at the pass in four weeks."

He nodded back. "Novaer, Prince,"

"Na lu e-govaned vin," Legolas said, watching as Meginor led his horse to the south at a slow trot. The elves of Lothlorien parted and said goodbyes to the others, before following.

When they had gone a distance, Legolas looked over the elves who remained. It was almost completely night, but he could recognize the elves' faces. Almost half, only about fourty were left, and only eight others were also from Mirkwood.

Then he gazed at Tauriel, who was still watching the other elves retreating forms. He sighed, remembering his outburst earlier. He touched her shoulder. "I am sorry for what I said earlier, I do not know why those words tumbled out mindlessly," he said.

She looked at him, surprised. "No," she shook her head, then smiled softly at him. "It is our beliefs that make us all different."

He nodded, as they continued to walk on. "It is a difficult thing, to believe in affection when you've seen things," he said, continuing the conversation they had ended earlier.

"I have heard the same from others," she said. "Maybe I still have much to learn."

He looked curiously at her. She rarely gave up so easily. "Or I could be wrong," he offered.

She laughed lightly. "You could be," she said. "But is it really so hard to believe that one could give a heart selflessly to something or someone else?" she asked, more seriously than before.

He paused, wondering how she somehow voiced out the very same thoughts he had been mulling over. He suspected it was because of the insistent way his father had pushed him to get married. When he had seen Glines married, smiling as if nothing in the world was wrong, he couldn't help but wonder-was it really possible to find a bond that would make you smile and glow even in the face of such dark times?

They walked on for quite a bit. He never answered her. Only when she felt his hand on his shoulder did he stop, glancing at her in surprise.

"Legolas, you know that—," her eyes widened.

She halted, and so did he. He had heard it, too. And the smell...

He pushed her out of the way. "Tauriel, take cover," he said quickly.

By the time he had his bow out and aimed, the whole crowd was silent, following his gaze. "Bows out. Those without weapons fall behind and stay distant," he instructed, his voice deep and clear through the whispering of the wind. They moved fast, and soon enough the orange-red behind him was gone. He sighed, relieved. At least they—and she—would be safe. Soon enough, the ones with armour were all aligned and aiming, arrows ready to fly.

"One is coming. Take—," he released his bow, just as a rusty black arrow also flew towards them, zooming a few inches away to his right, missing his legs and lodging on the soil behind him. "Yrch," he said, as his own arrow flew straight to the head of the creature's approaching black silhouette. They never did know how to shoot properly.

When the orc's body touched the ground, the others came running behind it, holding weapons that looked blunt and old.

He released again, and so did the other elves. Every single arrow that flew took down a corresponding orc. But...

"There are too many!" shouted an elf.

"Keep shooting," he said loudly.

Arrow after arrow flew, and little by little, the lines of the orcs diminished. As the distance gapped however, they were still outnumbered three to one.

When they were close enough, Legolas dove the last arrow he had pulled into the neck of an incoming orc, while using his other hand to pull his sword, killing another one coming to his side. It had become noisier around him as knives and swords cut through meat, and the orcs cried out in pain.

He never left his place as the orcs ran to him, for none of them were organized nor experienced enough. All of them just seemingly wanted to get near him. Instead of walking forward, with each chance he got, he walked back. He needed to kill off any orcs who had gotten past their line, wanting instead to target the group who advanced past their initial defense.

It was easy enough, but their number tired him. He was running out of arrows. The last one, he had used to shoot an orc approaching an Imladris elf from the back.

He was left depending on his sword, when finally the orcs thinned out. The last orc running towards him was grinning and looked hungry. Twisting the sword as it cut through the air, he threw, its blade pointing forwards. The blade cut right through the orc's forehead, digging deep until only the hilt showed through. He smiled, but it quickly disappeared when he realized his mistake.

He looked desperately around, realizing there was only one other orc alive, and he was wobbling away, trying to run from the bloodshed. Only a few paces away, a brown haired elf was stringing an arrow, its sharp tip aimed and ready to fly.

"Wait!" he shouted, but the arrow had flown.

He ran, angry, but knowing it had been his own carelessness. The Imladris did not know of their ways: to always keep one alive.

They needed answers.

By the time he reached the orc, it was already lying in a pool of dark blood, the liquid reflecting the light of the stars. He lifted his foot and stomped hard on the orc's chest, making it cough out with blood. He reached down and pulled its head up to him. "Why are you here?"

It chuckled, it's voice gurgling in blood. "She–-with you," was the only thing it said as he coughed and spattered, scattering spots of black all over the glass.

"We are growing," it continued to laugh, as elves gathered around them.

"How?" he asked, pulling its head more, trying to clog the wound on his neck, trying to keep him alive, if only for a few more moments. But the pool of dark liquid only grew, and the orc only kept on laughing. It died, in the end, its laughs and curses echoing in the now blood stained field.

END OF CHAPTER


A/N: Constructive Criticisms are welcome

Vee

Edited: 12/14