Even though the pale orcs sword fell, it did not reach it prey. Instead it met the familiar steel of Orcrist. Bowing under the weight of the blow that was meant to kill, Thranduil stood fast, the two weapons grinding together as Azog stared in shock.

Among the three dwarfs who were wide eyed and looking up on the scene, only one of them recognized their savoir. But Thorin did not believe it. He even wondered for a moment that he was seeing illusions produced from pain or blood loss.

Dishevelled and bloodstained, the elven king was otherwise uninjured. He had been gracefully and quickly cutting a path across the battlefield when he had heard a familiar name screamed. It was the name of the dwarf who had saved his son. By his honor, he could not allow Fili to be slain and had quickly come to his aide.

Narrowing his eyes, Thranduil unlocked his weapon from the orcs, twisting away before swinging up in his own fatal blow. Unfortunately by the time he did this the shock had worn off and Azog was able to block the attack. Growling, the orc flung himself at the elf, sword raised and deadly, but Thranduil was too fast and was able to easily dodge.

Intelligent beyond what orcs were meant to be, Azog had seen this dodge coming and brought his steel hand up to meet his opponent. Barely seeing this coming in time, Thranduil was only able to spin away enough to save himself from being impaled. Unfortunately, the blow still caught him along his side which his armor mostly saved him from. Mostly. The adrenaline fueling him made the injury seem not as bad as it actually was.

Both combatants now fuming with anger, they met each other head on. The brute strength and force behind the orcs blows versus the quick and expertly thrown speed of the elven kings. From the ground watching the battle, Kili stared in awe as the elf fought. He had never seen such grace and skill before, not even in the elves who had captured them in the woods.

Mostly spinning and dodging the attacks, Thranduil's blade was suddenly caught up in the orcs iron arm, locking it as he twisted the limb.

Having to choose between being cleaved in half or letting go of Orcrist, Thranduil did the later. Fuming mad that he had once again been disarmed by an orc, the elf drew his knives and ran forward intending to end the battle the same way he had ended the one with the orc general at Dor Guldur. But that was not Azogs fate. Waiting for the best moment, the orc threw a sudden elbow what was unavoidable.

It was all Thranduil could do to stay on his feet as he was thrown backwards. But before he could regain his stance, Azog was on him. With no choice but to block the next attack rather than dodge, his twin blades barely withstood the force of the blow as it fell. With a desperation he had not felt in a long time, the elf king wildly searched the ground for Orcrist. Spotting his sword discarded nearby, he danced away from the general, slipping by him with unnatural speed towards his actual weapon.

Realizing what his opponent was doing, Azog made a snap decision and threw his massive weapon towards the elven king. It paid off. The unexpected force of the collision brought Thranduil quite ungracefully to the ground. And just as he was about to roll back onto his feet, the steel clawed weapon of his opponent was brought down around his neck in a choke hold which effectively pinned him.

Azog paused for a moment, grinning maliciously in Thranduil's face as he pressed down harder. Unlike the mask of narrow eyed anger the elf king wore as they fought, it changed quickly to one of shock, pain and desperation. The foreign emotion of fear for his own life suddenly rose within him as the unforgiving steel pressed into his throat, the claws sinking into the soil. Unaccustomed to losing, the elf kings mind froze as he brought up on hand to try and relieve the choke hold while flinging out the other to try and reach Orcrist. The elven blade was so close his fingers almost brushed it.

But the hand he had thrown out suddenly brushed something else, one of the knives he had dropped when the weight of the massive sword had collided with him. Retaking the weapon, Thranduil's arm moved lightning fast, embedding the knife in Azog's neck.

With a scream of pain and fury, the orc general reeled backwards, drawing back his forked arm. Suddenly free, Thranduil reclaimed Orcrist from the ground and rolled into a crouch. Barely spending even a moment to think, he rushed the orc that had just pulled the knife from his neck. And with speed that the orc general did not share, his blade found its mark across Azog's throat.

Breathing hard and eyes narrowed, Thranduil stepped back in time for the massive creature to fall forwards, dead at his feet. Not sparing another moment for satisfaction at the close victory, Thranduil turned his piercing gaze to his next task.

As the battle ended, Kili could feel the awe within him change to fear when the elf turned his gaze on him and his kin. Swallowing nervously, he kept his weapon raised. Kneeling on Thorin's other side, Fili did the same thing.

"You would be fools to think that I would save you only to kill you now." There was a cold bite of irritation in Thranduil's voice as he approached. Yet even so, the words seemed to calm them.

As the war still waged on the mountain side, the elf king came to a quick decision. Reaching down he grabbed Thorin but the collar of his tunic and began dragging him away. Luckily the dwarf lord was now unconscious or else he would not have been able to succeed in his endeavor so easily. Not wanting to argue, the brothers followed closely, cutting down an orc or two that strayed towards them. They were already on the edge of the battle, but now they seemed to be leaving it completely.

Finally reaching his destination, Thranduil dropped Thorin behind a large stone, out of view from the war. Crouching down above him he delicately lifted broken armor and cloth to take a look at the wound on the dwarf's chest. The only reaction that showed on his face was his mouth twitching down in a frown. Thorin would not survive his wounds if he did not get medical care soon.

The sudden touch of cold steel on the back of his neck caused him to freeze. Hand still lifting the fabric of Thorin's shirt, he glanced up at the one who was threatening him.

"Why ARE you helping us?" It was Fili who was staring down at him with distrust. There were only two elves that he knew and trusted and this was not one of them.

"You are Fili, are you not?" The elf king still didn't move, only stared up at the dwarf.

Taken aback that the elf knew his name, Fili frowned. "I will not share my name until you do."

With a sigh, Thranduil spoke. "I am helping you because I am in debt to you. You saved my son where I failed to."

Eyes wide, Fili quickly removed his sword, allowing the elf to stand. "You are…king Thranduil. You're Legolas' father."

The elf king only nodded slightly, expression solemn before looking down at Thorin once more. "His wounds run deep and without care he will soon pass from this life." Stepping away, he turned back to look at the brothers once more. "This is all I can do for you. I must rejoin the battle." He had to return to battle to find his own kin. He had lost sight of Legolas when he had heard Fili's name called and he couldn't help the worry that was now flooding him.

Watching the elf go, Fili was unsure how to feel. Shock, and fear for his uncles life; gratitude and awe at the king of the woodland realms assistance. Suddenly Thranduil stopped once more, turning to meet the eyes of the tawny haired dwarf.

"Thank you, Fili of house Durin. I said once that there was no king and never would there be a king under the mountain. But if Thorin Oakenshield falls today, I would not be unhappy to see you take the throne." And with those final words he as gone, disappearing back into the sea of battle.

Far away from the three dwarves and their plight, the prince of Mirkwood and the former guard captain were in the middle of the war. The skills of an orc that trained for perhaps six months could never match those of an elf that had been training for centuries. But what they lacked in skill, they made up for in numbers.

Fighting as if he were dancing, Legolas' knives skillfully cut through every orc that dared approach him. And for those that tried to strike from behind, Tauriel was there to stop them. When they had first rode into the battle the prince couldn't help but admit that deep down he felt slightly uneasy with Tauriel riding in as his back up. He had forgiven her, yes. But did he trust her? It seemed that he hadn't.

Turning to cut down another enemy while at the same time saving the life of a man from Lake Town, Legolas paused to catch his breath; the foul odor of orcs, blood and death filling the air.

"Are you ok?" Tauriel's blades found their mark in the chest of an orc before she turned to him, reaching over to grasp his arm.

"Of course." Legolas turned from her, unable to look his friend in the eye as he lied. He was quickly tiring; his wounds not as healed as he first thought they had been. His shoulder ached, and his head pounded but he refused to show weakness. He had not let what happened to him in Dor Guldur stop him. He would not let a mere battle stop him.

Tauriel watched the prince with worry in her eyes before having to take up her weapon to defend herself once more. But even as her steel met the orcs, her mind was still on her friend. She was paying attention to his fight more than her own. Quickly dispatching the orc who had flung itself at her, she spun, decapitating another that was diving for Legolas' back.

A commotion that was larger than normal approached to their left. Through the crowd and cutting down all within their way, a group of Uruk-Hai managed to stay in formation. Noticing the two elves that were cutting down their own fair share of opponents, the small group turned and made a bee line straight for them.

At the sight Tauriel glanced at Legolas nervously. As much as he tried to hide it, he was not well. His normal untouchable and unflappable fighting style was not flawless as usual. The more she watched him the more falters she noticed in his movements, the more grimaces that flashed across his face if he knew it or not.

Falling back to stand side by side, the two took their best fighting stance before rushing the enemy. Dashing around the first creature's blade, Legolas spun gracefully as his knives struck true, deep into its side. With a loud scream of rage and pain, it turned to swing at him. Dodging the angry strike and the attack of another of the group of Uruk-hai, Legolas launched himself onto the seconds chest and both blades were buried in its heart quickly after.

Using the momentum of the falling orc, Legolas jumped off hitting the ground in a roll and intending to come up on his feet within seconds. But the move that he had practiced on countless occasions during battles throughout the ages failed him. When his body met the ground, the unexpected pain of the impact on his remaining injuries shocked him.

Faltering horribly, the first Uruk-hai he had injured used this as an opportunity to strike. Rushing forward, it swung down hard at the elf. Just regaining his composing, Legolas managed to roll away in time for the blade to meet the ground rather than his body.

Finally getting his feet under him again, the prince easily managed to finish off the injured creature in a skillful spin of his knives. Breathing hard and grimacing in pain he realized that the small band of Uruk-hai all lay dead at their feet. Of the five, Tauriel had managed to fell the other three.
Meeting her eyes, he nodded to her with a smile at the small victory. But the look on her face quickly caused his face to fall.

The next moment happened so quickly yet seemingly in slow motion. Only about ten feet away, Tauriel rushed towards him at a sprint. "Legolas! Move!" Her voice rang out loud and clear, but before what she had said registered in his mind her body was crashing into his and they both fell into an ungraceful heap on the ground.

As he looked up, his gaze finally fell on the threat she had noticed. An orc about 30 feet away was just nocking another arrow with its sights set firmly on them. Without even getting up, the elf prince quickly took up his own bow which he had shouldered and sent an arrow back at the enemy. Luckily his injuries did not cause his aim to falter and the orc fell dead.

Grimacing, he pulled himself to his knees, eyes watching carefully for any enemy that approached. "Thank you Tauriel." If not for her, he probably would have been shot in the back.

Quickly he noticed something was wrong. She was not getting up. "Tauriel?" Worry leaked into his voice as he shuffled over to her, quickly and gently taking her by the shoulder and rolling her onto her back. Horror at what he saw washed over him, his heart clenching in panic.

The long shaft of a black arrow protruded from her chest, just right of her heart. It had even managed to pierce the leather armor she wore.

"I had your back…" Legolas clenched his jaw when he heard the quiet words.

"Yes, you did…" He whispered back, sorrow flooding him. Even with the fastest and best healing there was, it would be difficult to save her. But here…in the middle of a battle field while a war waged…..impossible. Trying to swallow his sorrow, it got even more difficult when she reached out to take his hand.

"I-I couldn't fail you again…" Her voice came out strained. Blood pooled in her punctured lung, which in turn caused her to start struggling for enough breath.

"Do not speak..." Brushing the loose strands of hair that found their way onto her forehead he tried to think of what to say. He knew that she was dying, but deep down he was having trouble accepting it. "You did not fail me."

Gasping a breath, Tauriel smiled. "I will be…walking among….starlight s-soon." Legolas could bring himself to speak not longer and only nodded, brows furrowed almost painfully. "T-tell Kili….that….I don't know…i-if I could have…b-but … I might h-have tried…"

Not knowing what she meant but wanting to appease her, the prince only nodded, gripping her hand tighter. As her eyes slipped shut, Legolas felt his heart breaking, and within moments the hand he held in his own fell limp. One of his best friends was gone.

Authors notes
I know a lot of people were hoping and praying for a happy ending but...I don't really do happy endings. This is me. I'm notorious for writing sad. Of the two main plot ideas that happened in this chapter, I had both of them planned from nearly chapter seven. Sorry for the feels, but stay tuned for some more father-son interactions.

Reviews are always loved yes. I'd love to hear your feedback, even if it's just sadness and tears.

And here I leave you on a solemn note.