Dedication: This is for everyone who have followed this story til now. Welcome to part two!


One: Cul


The corridors echoed with his footsteps. His long walk from the gates was filled with nothing but the same dull halls and stiff guards. The halls were forgivable, they had always been bland. It was the guards that had been a new addition to the castle's passages. Ever since the new attacks from the south, his father ordered that the castle guards be doubled. It did not help that the ones being installed within the castle came from his own company. With every elf they installed within the walls, one was taken from outside. It was not a week ago when one of his comrades took injury from a goblin. They were growing too numerous, and the warriors were too small in number to take on their offense. It was a matter he hoped to discuss with his father, so it seemed only favourable to him that he was called for an audience with the king.

The two guards outside the king's chambers inclined their heads as he walked in. Swiftly, Legolas climbed the winding steps that led to his father's chair. When he had reached the top of the stairs, he saw that the king was on his feet, watching the side of the hall with distant eyes. Legolas stayed silent, even as he reached the platform where his father stood. He knew better than to try to solicit his attention when he was thinking.

It wasn't long when the king finally regarded him. "You called for me," Legolas noted, as the king made his way back to his throne.

"I did," Thranduil nodded. He shifted in his chair and finally laid eyes on his son, but still he did not speak.

"Why?" Legolas asked as he started pacing the platform. His father always took his time.

"You have something to discuss with me," Thranduil droned on.

Legolas nodded. "But I came because you requested my audience, and not the other way around."

"Tell me."

Knowing his father would not indulge on his thoughts before he spoke of his, Legolas voiced his concerns, "The spiders and orcs grow in number. They are filling the forests with webs and stench. It will only take a matter of time before they reach the borders of our kingdom," he stopped and faced the king.

"And?"

Legolas faced him. "We need our warriors out in the battle, not inside the confines of our walls. You have to send reinforcements outside."

Thranduil watched him for a moment before he replied, "Very well."

Legolas did not hide his surprise. His father very rarely caved in to any of his requests. And even if he did, there was always a reason why. He waited for his father to speak, but again, the king did not continue. Legolas started pacing again, knowing that there was something else to be said, wondering what it was that he had to know—Thranduil was fond of long pauses.

"As for the reason I called you," Thranduil continued, his eyes boring into his son. "Some of our kin have expressed their concerns to assist the kingdom, and wish to travel and stay here."

"And will you accept them?"

"I will."

Legolas raised a brow, still walking back and forth. He opened his mouth to question the hasty decision, but the answer came to him when he remembered what they had discussed first. He knew there was a reason why his father had so quickly agreed on his earlier request. He was not going to lessen the number of guards from within—he was going to recruit from outside of Mirkwood. "And these are the elves who will join the troops when we venture to the forest?"

"Correct," Thranduil confirmed.

"Then I am grateful for their aid," Legolas eyed his father. "When will they arrive?"

"By the morrow," Thranduil answered, his eyes already caught in a faraway gaze. It took a few seconds before he looked down again at his son. "Make sure to make them feel welcome," he instructed.

Legolas nodded, and then finally stopped in his tracks. "Is that all?" he waited expectantly.

"Yes. You may leave," his father answered, turning his face away so Legolas could only see the whiteness of his cheeks, and the shadows in his face when he turned against the light.

Legolas only paused but for a moment before he turned away. He did not know what he had been expecting. Of course the king would have only called him for an announcement. There was no need for him to mention her. Not after so many years of silence and ignoring. Not after they had received word of the truth. Still, it tugged Legolas' heart. She was his mother, and the day of her death was the only day he had permitted himself to think and feel sorrow over her loss.

Before, he had the opportunity to share that grief with his father. He remembered that particular day when his father had comforted him. He remembered a time when Thanduil the King had shown that the memory of his wife was still with him, now there was nothing. Now, Legolas had to bear that burden on his own. Or more than that, he had to forget that he ever had that burden at all. At least, that was what Thranduil had done. Every since that day, when they found out about the truth.

In the beginning, it had been difficult for Legolas to adjust to the sudden coldness that overtook his father, but through the years, he had come to get used to it. Sometimes even, when Legolas gazed at his father, he wondered if it was for the best. There were too many things in his past that haunted Legolas, too many things he would have wanted to erase. But it seems he did not share the readiness of the king.

It was difficult for him to forget.

He bowed stiffly, wisps of blonde hair framing his face. Turning around, he slowed, one last time. Hoping that maybe, Thranduil had something more to say. But by the time he had reached the door, only silence met his ears.

As soon as he exited his father's chambers, Legolas allowed himself to dwell over his mother's death. Only for the moment. He remembered the way his mother had always been so gentle, heeding his words when no one else had. But only for the moment.

When he stepped out the gate, his attention was completely stolen by the forest that loomed dangerously in front of him. He walked to the end of the bridge that connected their kingdom to the border of the Mirkwood trees. By the end stood Aegnir, his eyes narrowed at the darkness beneath the shade of the trees.

"Nothing?" Legolas asked, taking his place beside Aegnir, also scanning the forest.

Aegnir shook his head, attention still on the trees. They observed side by side in quiet, before Aegnir spoke again. "Were you able to tell the king?" he asked.

"Yes," Legolas nodded.

At this, Aegnir's glanced at the prince. "Has he agreed?"

"He understands our situation. And yes, he has."

Aegnir smiled. "I'm glad the king has recognized that the walls of the kingdom are already enough of a protection from the darkness. I am also thankful to know that the corridors won't be as crowded as they have been recently. Having less guard inside would certainly—,"

"Not the guards," Legolas cut his rambles.

The younger elf quirked a brow, his attention caught by Legolas' statement. "Then how would we be able to increase the number of the guard?"

"Outside reinforcements," Legolas shrugged.

Aegnir, however, seemed to have been more interested than ever. "From where?"

Legolas met his eyes, suspicious of his curiosity. "I was not able to ask. Lorien or the Grey Havens, perhaps," he answered.

Aegnir appeared satisfied, returning his concentration on the watch. More silence passed. This had been their daily routine since the forces started moving within the forest. It had been only ten years after the gathering in Mirkwood, when the disappearances begun. At first, Legolas scouted the forest to remove all evil, no matter how far they had to travel. The Greenwood had always been a vital part of their living, and they needed to defend it. But a few years ago, the king had ordered them to simply guard the gates. It did not matter if there were enemies brooding in the forest—the kingdom was the first priority. Let no darkness come near.

There had been no problem at the beginning. The enemies had been easy and few. But then their forces grew—much like what had been reported from the other places in Middle Earth. Soon, they had to hunt down more spiders and orcs than they could contain. And the forest played to the enemies' strengths.

Now, they had learned. They knew better than to seek out a battle when they were so few in number. Only in when they neared the borders did Thranduil allow them to set out. They went in small groups, not as an army waging into war, but as hidden assassins with the aim of stealth and surprise.

They would be heading out again tonight. One of the scouts had reported sighting of a group of orcs in the western part of the kingdom. Although they were still far from the castle, the very fact that they had dared near the kingdom worried Legolas.

"Are they ready?" he asked Aegnir, remembering the three other elves who would join them in their scouting.

Aegnir nodded. "They're already waiting for us at the western gate."

"Very well," Legolas eyed the sky. There was an orange hue to the blue horizon, and a golden glow bathed the outer leaves of the forest trees. The sun was a reddish orange, preparing to set. They had been standing guard for most of the afternoon, but Legolas' legs did not tire yet. He watched the sky, waiting. Soon enough, a burst of color filled the heavens, and cottons of pink, orange, and yellow merged in what used to be an endless blue.

Without a word, Legolas started walking towards the direction of the fading sun, Aegnir close behind him.

The gate opened and two warriors walked out and took their place at the end of the bridge.

"It is today, is it not?" Aegnir asked as they traversed to the west. "I am sorry, mellon. She was our queen, and did not deserve what happened to her."

Legolas took a moment to answer. He had not expected it, but he was grateful that someone else shared the weight of sadness with him, and was able to acknowledge it. "Thank you," he called out, and nothing else was said.

"Ernil," one of the three warriors greeted when they arrived at the gate. A "gate" the men had called it, but Legolas knew it differently. The western gate was a raised structure at the western most part of the kingdom that served as a watchtower for the guards. It was one of the three that bordered the kingdom, the other two were at the east and the north. They were all as old as the castle itself but had never really been used until the aggression from the dark forces. Not until the stirring began in the forest.

"Have you located them?" Legolas asked, as soon as he had acknowledged the other two elves.

Meginor, who had been the one who greeted him first, nodded. "They've been inching closer today. They're but a league away, but they had been moving towards the main gate."

Legolas frowned. The orcs knew the defences in the main gate were impenetrable. Even a large army of the beasts would have hesitated before attacking that part of the kingdom. Their actions were growing only queerer by the day. "Take your weapons. The replacement guards will be here in a moment," he instructed all of them. The two other elves—Falael and Lyari, followed carefully. They were much younger elves, and inexperienced in battle.

In the span of a few minutes the replacement elves indeed arrived, and without a word, Legolas led the pack of five warriors into the dark stretch of trees.

The moment they stepped under the shade of the forest, a stench filled the air. It was a brooding insidiousness that Legolas had gotten used to, but had never known as a child. He had played in the forest when he was young, under the embrace of the trunks and the sky, but now Mirkwood had become a rotting expanse of filth and darkness.

They moved stealthily, their pace quickening as they wove their way deeper into the forest. Soon, thorns and leaves and branches snapped through the air as they navigated from tree to tree. Legolas led on, never stopping to even confirm their location. He had done this so many times already he felt he could have found the way even if he were to be blind.

Finally, after travelling a considerable amount of distance, he slowed. They had reached a pathway that broke into two. Here, Meginor stepped forward and led the way. He took the right path, and from then on, led them towards the north. Legolas still found the area familiar, until Meginor took a sudden turn upon reaching a large fir tree. They weaved through even more broken paths, while their way grew darker, with only the occasional breaks of light from the spaces of leaves that had long disappeared.

The stink grew stronger and stronger, and soon enough, Legolas heard the slightest traces of orc speech. It was soft, a little more than a whisper, but the rough grunts and hisses were not difficult to miss.

The group stopped simultaneously, and all four elves turned towards him. "Leave no one. The king does not need to interrogate mindless trespassers," he instructed, swiftly pulling out the bow from his back. He received nothing more than nods from his companions before they stalked forward, swift but soundless.

Legolas peeked through the leaves. There were more orcs than he had anticipated—four of them for every one of his group. It seemed Aegnir sensed the same as he shot Legolas a worried look. But they had no choice, Legolas shook his head. Their instructions had been given and they had already made it so far. Yet the lingering doubt in his chest got heavier as he eyed their other three companions. Meginor was one of his oldest friends, and had long been sent out to attacks but Falael and Lyari were yet to learn the skill of battle. They had been preparing endlessly and were regarded as some of the best in the trainees, but Legolas knew that nothing beat experience.

Still...

He pulled an arrow from his back, and knocked it into place. With a twang, it flew straight, and digged into the head of a babbling orc. Four other arrows flew, as Legolas run into the circle of orcs, brandishing the single dagger in his back.

They would manage.

The orcs had been taken at the moment unawares, but when Legolas saw that their weapons were already in their hands, he knew that they had been expecting the attack. His first knife cut through one orc's neck, and he pulled an arrow and aimed it towards another. But before his attack could meet its mark, a third enemy materialized by his side and swung an iron sword. Expertly, Legolas stepped back and crouched low instead, cutting through both orcs' legs.

One fell, crumpling to the ground and clutched his legs in agony. The other, the one who had wielded the sword, seemed much more stubborn. He took the opportunity from Legolas' pause to take another swing. Legolas deflected it with his knife. The weight of the heavy sword pushed his hands back, but with a grunt, he shoved the knife forward, throwing the orc off balance.

Legolas then dove one the arrow in his hand straight into the heart of the orc who was still on the ground, effectively silencing his writhing. He moved to stand but instead, veered quickly to the side, narrowly avoiding an arrow shot from his back. He sneered, finally aiming the arrow and shooting it back. Before it could even land, he pulled two arrows and let them fly, hitting two orcs successively.

He swerved around, just in time to see both Aegnir and Falael fire arrows to the back of the last orc—one who had almost escaped into the forest.

In a span of minutes, the scene around him turned from a blur of movements to stillness, only broken by their heavy breathing. Legolas scanned the area to count the number of dark figures in the ground. There were thirty orcs exactly. It was only two days ago when he had led an attack on a camp of fifteen orcs. More and more they grew.

"Is no one hurt?" he asked, assessing his team.

"No one," Aegnir answered while the other three shook their heads.

"Very well, we should return—"

With panicked eyes, he pulled another arrow from his back and released it upwards, towards the trees.

There was a stench now even stronger than those of the orcs. A smell of death and decay.

A thump resonated from where he had shot the arrow and he knew that his target had fallen. More arrows flew from his companions, and more thumps ensued. But he knew it was not enough. Clicking reached his ears and Legolas knew that the enemies approaching them were even more in number than the orcs they had just slain, and his companions were already tired from the initial attack.

Still, he let loose the arrows in his fletch. There was no more escape. The only thing they could do was finish the battle. "Aim for their eyes!" he shouted through the sudden rush of arrows.

Slowly, they lowered themselves from the towering trees, until Legolas could finally see clearly their monstrous faces. Spiders—gigantic in size, and dark as the night they had fallen into. They were abominations that, to Legolas, represented the curse that had befallen what was once the Greenwood.

The spiders were nearing the ground, their heavy bodies dangling from the white thick strings. As they descended, they swung from side to side, and the arrows hit less and less of them. Meginor and Lyari had sprung to the trees, preferring to kill them at a closer distance. But it was not enough. The creatures dropped from their webs one by one, and even Legolas was forced to abandon his bow. Again, he pulled the knife from his back and, with as much strength as he could muster, dove it into the belly of a spider beside him.

More spiders appeared, and he stabbed on and on, not even stopping to assess the situation of his companions.

When at last the creatures approaching him lessened did he finally slow down, but still he was not given a chance to rest. He heard a sound from above louder that the rest, and he loosed an arrow just in time to stop one that was only a few breaths from digging its pincers to his heart. It hit the spider straight in the eye, but Legolas did not anticipate what happened next.

Because of its close distance, Legolas did not escape its fall on time. The next thing he realized was that a great mass was upon him, the dead spider's full weight bearing down on him. Its stench overpowered all his senses. He shoved against the weight, but he could not push it away. He heaved, knowing that his companions needed his help.

Remembering the knife that was still clutched in his hand, Legolas instead held his breath and pulled it hard, from the tip of its heavy body to its head. Its dark blood spilled on him as he cut the spider in half. Pushing the now lessened burden away, Legolas rushed to stand, swerving momentarily from the liquid that dulled his mind. When he finally steadied, he quickly scanned his surroundings. The onslaught was still ongoing, and more spiders had dropped to the ground. Aegnir, Meginor, and Lyari were unharmed, but Legolas saw that Falael was limping as dark blood stained his pants. Still, Falael lumbered on, using his sword now to kill. But in his heavy focus to kill before him, he did not see what was behind. He did not see the spider behind him, raising its pincers to stab his back.

Legolas shouted. His hands seemed to freeze and he could not pull an arrow from his back, but he knew that even if he could fire, the arrow would not reach in time.

But a knife flew from behind him. It hit the pincer, thrusting the spider backward. Then two arrows reached its belly, effectively bringing it down. Legolas would not have paid it mind had he not realized that the knife looked exactly like the one he held in his hand.

Bewildered, he looked behind him, confused.

As if to answer him, more arrows showered from above, taking down all remaining adversaries. Then, figures leapt from the darkness. They moved quickly, jumping from tree to tree, such that they looked nothing but a blur.

But there was one who Legolas saw clearly, the one who had thrown the very first dagger. He could not miss the flash of her unmistakable red hair.

END OF CHAPTER


A/N: It took me this long to update because I only just watched BOFA (shame). I would rant here, but it would be longer than this chapter so here's my review in a gist: It was beautiful, but there are some things I'd change. Plus, poor Legolas. If you want, I have my mini-review up at wordpress. My username's outofthebackground, so check that out, and let's discuss!

I might be writing a one shot soon of a scene in The Hobbit. It was supposed to be a chapter of this story, but my fingers are aching for Legolas-Tauriel revenge, so It'll be a semi-stand alone.

Cul is elvish for "golden red," according to one site I checked. :) Yes, I'm putting titles now!

I revised this chapter three times, as it was painfully difficult to write, but tell me what you think!

Love,

Vee