In Mirkwood- Chapter 2

Next chapter is here! Thank you to all those who have read and reviewed this so far.

Disclaimer: see chapter 1

"Retreat!"

His desperate cry rang out across the clearing, but there was no chance for the elves anymore.

"Run!"

Another of the patrol fell, a knife impaled in his chest. His gaze caught Legolas' and the Prince froze. The elf's eyes were wide, pleading desperately for the pain to stop as he watched Legolas. A shudder ran through him and something in his eyes vanished, yet the pleading, begging gaze remained frozen on his face.

Legolas stumbled back, only to hear the whoosh of a scimitar behind him. He turned and brought his blade up, parrying the blow at the last moment. The orc's grinning face moved in closer to him, leering at Legolas, whose arm trembled with the strain of holding up the scimitar. Legolas' knife slipped slightly and the orc leant forwards, bearing all his weight on the thin blade. Legolas' eyes widened.

He did not see the orc come behind him, not until he felt the cold sharp pain across his back. Managing to hold back a scream Legolas dropped down, the orc in front of him falling forwards. Luckily, it fell right onto the orc behind him and both crashed to the ground, their knives impaling each other.

Normally Legolas would have laughed at this, but he couldn't. Waves of pain rocked his body as blood soaked his tunic. Around him there were less orcs, but it was still too many. He looked around, desperate to see any of his patrol alive. Some of them had to be alive.

His lieutenant was behind him, back to back with another elf. Both were bleeding heavily. Legolas turned to try and help them, but dizziness assaulted him and he swayed on his feet. He stumbled towards them, his blades drawn. As he watched, one of them fell forwards, hitting the ground heavily. An orc leapt in. The elf didn't move again.

Legolas managed to reach his lieutenant and drew himself up. Without saying a word, he turned and they stood back to back, one last desperate attempt. Both of them knew what was coming, and Legolas briefly grasped the other elf's arm. He felt his lieutenant reach for him, and the firm grasp of his hand. Then the touch was gone and the orcs moved in.

He didn't know how long they fought like this, back to back, their final stand against the onslaught of orcs. He only knew that no matter how many orcs fell to their blades, more and more came. There was no end to the darkness.

A sudden cry came from behind him and a weight fell back against Legolas, who staggered forwards. The lieutenant fell to the ground beside Legolas, his eyes blinking feverishly. A large red stain was spreading across his chest. "Le…Legolas" he rasped, his eyes wide and panicked. "Saes…" He shuddered once and then was still..

"No… No. No!"

Legolas screamed, the sound tearing out of him and ringing through the forest. He climbed back onto his feet. Blood spilt from his side, but his rage gave him wings and he was borne up, his weapons raised. This time, he didn't wait for the orcs to come to him. He charged, leaving behind the body of his lieutenant; his friend.

He didn't care anymore that his blood was spilling onto the forest floor. He didn't care that orcs blades cut into him. Many of the orcs' bodies littered the floor, but he didn't notice. His vision narrowed to just see the orc in front of him, until that orc fell and another came to take its place.

But he never forgot the bodies of the elves lying behind him, those he had failed. They fuelled his rage, willing his weary, bloody arms to rise again and again in the gruesome dance. Orc after orc fell to his blades.

And then suddenly no more orcs came forwards to meet him. Legolas stopped, circling, trying to look through the red haze that covered his eyes. Eventually it cleared.

There were no more orcs alive for him to bring down. Their bodies were strewn around the forest, black blood coating everything. But then Legolas saw them.

The bodies of his patrol, the bodies of the elves that had fallen lay with the orcs' corpses. They were all dead. Bright red blood mixed with black. Legolas, stumbling forwards, saw again the body of his lieutenant, his friend, covered in crimson. His face was frozen in death, eyes blank.

With this sight, Legolas fell to his knees, the strength leaving him. He wanted to be sick. Everywhere he looked, he saw blood. Even when he closed his eyes, he saw their open, staring gazes. He heard their cries.

He wanted to scream his anguish to the sky. But he couldn't. Blood was dripping from him onto the floor, adding to the gruesome mixture. Legolas watched as it spread across his tunic. The pain suddenly made itself known and he gasped, his breaths coming short and sharp as he collapsed onto his side. His hands tried to find the wounds, desperately trying to hold back the flow of blood.

He shook where he lay, in the blood and the dirt. His eyes gazed at the carnage, but he had not the strength to move them. Did he want death? He didn't think it mattered, for he knew if he was not found, he would die anyway. Just like his patrol. Just like the countless elves that had already fallen to the shadow. He would join their ranks in the Halls of Mandos, never living to see these days renewed.

He didn't have hope for that anyway. His breaths were rasping in his throat and he knew unconsciousness was only moments away. His eyes flickered.

His last thoughts were of his father. He hoped Thranduil didn't find him, that he didn't see his body. He didn't want his father's last memories of him to be this. Legolas would have smiled, if he had the strength. His father would keep going; he had to. Mirkwood had to stand against the darkness. The others had to have hope, even if it had left him to his death in the blood and the dirt.

The darkness crept in and took him, and his eyes fell shut.

It started to rain. The patter of water on leaves, far above the blood, was the only sound in the forest.

0-o-0-o-0

Thranduil looked up from his desk as a soft knock came at his door. "Come in." The door opened and he smiled. "Galion. I trust you got the message?"

Galion grinned wryly. "Of course I did. Why else would I be knocking on your study door?"

Thranduil's smile grew. "I get your point, Galion. Come in, sit."

Galion, one of the captains of the army, sat down opposite Thranduil. "What is it you want, Sire?"

Thranduil sighed, shuffling papers on his desk, before looking up at his captain. Galion was not only his captain- he was a valued advisor and the closest thing Thranduil had in this kingdom to a friend.

"How many elves are in the stronghold right now? Ones on duty, I mean."

Galion frowned, doing a quick tally in his head. "Over a hundred are on some sort of duty in or around the palace, Sire. Why?"

Thranduil pushed a piece of paper towards him, which Galion took and read. Thranduil rubbed his eyes with his hand. "This is a report I got late yesterday. More spiders have been spotted around the elf path in the west. I want you to take out about twenty elves and head southwest, the same way that Legolas went yesterday. If you set off this morning you should catch up with him; he was travelling slowly and only left yesterday noon."

Galion nodded as Thranduil continued. "Join your patrol with his and sweep further south and west- Legolas was only checking on the state of the woods south of the elf path. Together I want you to find more information on the spiders. I need to know how far north they are moving."

Thranduil sighed, running his hand through his hair. His crown was lying on the desk amid a pile of papers. "I need this information, Galion. We need to know what we are up against right now-"

Galion cut him off with a groan. "Thranduil, you are being dispirited again. Stop it."

Thranduil laughed. "Alright then. Take the elves south; try to be back in a week. I will see you and Legolas then."

Galion nodded. "We will be back soon" he said. "And when you are back, I am going to force you to take a day off. I will make Legolas drag you outside so you can spend the day with him. Between your duties and his back to back patrols, you don't spend enough time together."

Thranduil smiled. "I know. But at least I have you to set me straight, Galion."

"Ai, well, I am leaving now." Galion stood up. "So you are going to have to manage by yourself for a week." He bowed and turned to leave.

"May the grace of the Valar go with you, Galion" called Thranduil as Galion left.

Galion paused and turned back with a smile. "And with you, Sire."

0-o-0-o-0

The elves were assembled, weapons cleaned and ready for use, supplies packed. Galion looked over the elves as they moved away from the palace, noting with please the small pouches that hung at everyone's belts. They were battlefield medical kits, containing a small supply of herbs that were vital in battle, as well as thread and needles. A few elves carried rolls of bandages, and every elf was trained in suturing wounds and applying herbs. Thranduil had instigated this a long time ago, and Galion was sure it had saved many lives over the years.

They moved through the forest swiftly, using the trees rather than the ground. Galion pushed the elves on, wanting to catch up with Legolas by the end of the day. He knew Legolas was going slowly, scouting the area carefully and with luck, he hadn't gotten too far past the elf path yet.

Galion glanced up at the sky, or what he could see of it through the trees. The sun was not yet at its peak, though they had been moving for a few hours. They were making good time.

It was mid-afternoon when they began to get close to the elf path. Galion called for the patrol to stop and they rested in the trees, sipping from waterskins. Galion pulled out a square of lembas and munched on a bit of it, his dark eyes scanning the trees ahead.

After a few moments they continued. Nimbly jumping from branch to branch they made their way through the darkening forest. The boughs beneath them were twisted and dark, but they were steady underneath the feet of the wood-elves.

As Galion leapt through the trees, a sudden feeling of unease crept over him. He slowed, the patrol coming up behind up. Finally coming to a halt in the trees, he looked around. Nothing seemed different. And yet…

It took him a while to work out what was wrong, but when he did, he was just more confused. He turned back to the patrol. "The trees are quiet" he murmured. "Something is wrong."

The other elves looked about, only noticing the silence now. Galion dropped down to the floor, followed by the rest of the elves. He knew that it wasn't very helpful, leaving the trees, but he didn't want to stay in their silent boughs anymore. It was strangely unnerving.

They crept forwards, and with every step Galion became even more worried. The trees were silent, yes, but still there were whispers in the air. They spoke of death. It was hardly comforting.

A little while later Galion held up his hand and they stopped. Galion turned around, his face pale and drawn. "Can you smell that?" he asked. The metallic tang in the air was unmistakeable.

The patrol nodded. "It is blood" murmured one of them. "Orc blood, definitely."

Galion nodded. "Weapons drawn" he said. "Stick together. All is silent right now, but we have no idea what we might find through the trees."

He was right. They had no idea of what they were going to find.