A/N: Warning for continued violence in this chapter.

I am sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out. Whenever bad things happen, I always spend a lot of time thinking about how it could have been prevented. I would trust the Elves to think of all possible solutions, which takes my mortal mind a while to contemplate. Thank you all for sticking around.


89 – Between Fangs and Fire

The sight of his father's palace was as much a source of relief for Legolas as the distance the Elves had gained from the pursuing Orcs. Seeing his father and his warriors engaged in combat with a flurry of darting spiders near the gates, he led the villagers around the flank to a side entrance, praying that the narrow way would not slow them enough for the Orcs to reach them.

He should not have worried. Even as he stood aside and ushered them all through, instructing them straight to the throne room where he knew his mother would receive them well, he became suspicious. It seemed to him that both the Orcs that had attacked the village and the new group approaching from the east had deliberately reduced their speed. He could see them spreading out now, the two groups joining seamlessly together, torch lights quickly multiplying as weapons were lowered. Did they mean to burn the forest and hem in their quarry? The trees, he knew, would resist the flames of evil as much as they could. The shadow had not penetrated yet to the trees immediately surrounding the palace, and in their way, they would aid in the defense of the Elves that loved them.

His stomach sank as he realized the true target, even as he glanced at the last of the villagers disappearing into the throne room several yards away. Their enemy was not after the trees—they were good fuel for their evil fires. No, the Orcs had always been after blood. They meant to burn the palace, and all those within. However much the living trees would try to help, the dead wood of the buildings and telain was unable to resist such an onslaught.

Legolas sprinted southward along the wall to catch sight of his father again. Alongside his warriors, the Elvenking was currently much too occupied with defending the palace against the spiders. The twitching black limbs of the dozens of dead hindered the warriors' work. He decided not to acknowledge the sight of the fallen Elves and instead shouted the command for his own company to assemble.

"The Orcs aim to burn down the palace with our people still inside," Legolas told them, trying to think quickly. "Half of you, go to the side door we just used. Concentrate there but spread out along the wall to prevent any Orcs from trying to jump over. The rest of us will move forward to intercept them before they come nearer."

"My prince, they are closing in!" one of the soldiers warned. "Shall we not evacuate the palace?"

"I imagine this area is already surrounded by scouts," Legolas said grimly. "Any Elf trying to escape would not get far before more Orcs were called to intercept. No, we must make our stand here."

"May the starlight shine upon your blade, my prince," another soldier said.

He acknowledged the blessing with a reciprocal gesture. "Pick off as many as you can with arrows before abandoning your bows," he instructed. "They carry the lights by which we shall mark them. Let them regret bringing fire to our woods."

~.~.~

Elluin distantly felt very impressed with the soldier she was tending. The foreleg of a spider had left a deep gash in his forearm. He did not move at all and had refused any herbs to help him separate from consciousness. He had simply asked them to stop the bleeding enough that he could hold his sword without his grip slipping in the fluid. Of course, avoiding further blood loss would also help him remain conscious long enough to be helpful.

"You should take these herbs for the pain, Harthadon. You'll fight the better for it. And two cups of water afterwards, at least," Elluin said somewhat distractedly as she stitched, her head moving slightly toward the steaming cup another elleth had just set down beside him.

"This will not dull my senses?" he asked, lifting it and smelling the fragrant contents.

"No more than the wine of Rivendell," she quipped.

"Ah, so it will hardly have any effect," he answered readily, and she could hear his smile before he drained the cup. "It is an honor to be your patient once more, my queen," he added.

"You are much more compliant this time," she mentioned as she set the needle aside and reached for bandages. "Age has made you wiser, it seems."

"One would hope," he said with forced ease. Elluin knew he was eager to return to the fighting. And her Silent Guards, trying to stay out of the way while they orbited around their queen, were practically vibrating with the same desire to aid in the defense.

"Harthadon," she began, hesitating as she tightly wrapped his arm. "How is it out there?"

"Fear not," the ellon answered after a breathless moment. "It takes more than a few spiders to overcome the Elves of Greenwood."

"These spiders…the venom is proving difficult to treat," she said, tying the bandage and tucking in the ends. They both glanced over at one of the soldiers who had received a bite to his neck—the first victim the spiders had not killed outright on the field. The ellon's rigid and spasming muscles bunched uneasily as other healers tried to stop the bleeding on his neck. "He has vomited all the sedatives we have tried to give him, and his breathing is declining by the moment." Elluin knew her expression betrayed her despair.

Even as they watched, the Elf began to still, venom finally doing its work on the weakened heart. Elluin put the back of her hand to her mouth to keep from crying out, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay. She was queen and healer, now—she had no time for grief.

And yet, she had been a servant. Harthadon's good hand clamped down on her shoulder in a manner which would have been entirely inappropriate had he not worked in service to the royal court alongside her all those centuries ago. She looked up, startled, to see his grim gaze turned to her.

"Am I released from your care, my queen? I should like to avenge my comrade."

She nodded, gathering herself at last. "May the One protect you," she said hoarsely. He saluted, drained one of the cups of water that had been prepared for him, and jogged out, hand to hilt.

Before the door could shut behind him, the stream of villagers began to enter. Elluin rose immediately, directing the wounded to where they could be treated, and the others to an empty corner of the throne room where servants were prepared to bring them refreshment and see to their needs.

Not long after, a soldier appeared to stand impatiently by the door. Elluin gestured for her clerks to take over management of the hall while she hurried over to speak to him, Nidhair at her heels. The soldier at the door met her with a crisp salute.

"My son and the king?" she asked, wasting no time.

"The king still fights in defense of the gate, my queen," he answered. "A second army of Orcs has joined the first. They draw near with torches. The prince has moved to meet them; he believes they mean to burn down the palace."

Elluin paled as she turned to survey the organized chaos behind her. There were so many wounded here, so many exhausted and terrified Elves who had been promised safety in the palace.

"How will we escape?" she asked both the soldier and Captain Nidhair, at her side as always. She willed calm into her voice, preparing to make the calculations based on the response.

"There will be no escape, my queen," the soldier said, his tone betraying his regret. "Bird messengers have confirmed that we are surrounded by Orc scouts. We must simply trust that our defenses will hold," he ended.

"Very well. I will not keep you," she said numbly. He ran out after another salute. Her mind was working furiously. If fire were to come, they would need a plan to evacuate the throne room safely with the immobilized wounded, without becoming targets of enemy arrows at the exit.

The exit… "Nidhair, will the chances for the wounded not be better in the hallways behind the throne room?" she asked. "At least some of the passageways are walled—the ones that connect to the kitchens."

"It may buy them time," was his quick assessment, "assuming the Orcs come to burn only this building and leave the others be. But the Elves we send out will be trapped wherever they go. The Orcs will shoot at anything they see moving in the windows, and the palace has many."

"Time may make all the difference," she said, beckoning her clerks to her. "They must be kept safe long enough for our forces to eliminate the threat. And if we are unable to overcome that threat, they would meet the same fate, anyway."

Nidhair managed not to wince at the dark statement. Instead, he gestured for the other Silent Guards to help as Elluin's clerks, now dismissed, distributed the orders.

"And what of you, my queen?" he said. "You will not attempt that route, I hope?"

"As you well know, Thranduil instructed me to remain in the throne room. I trust his judgment."

Nidhair nodded in satisfaction, but glanced about nervously. "I would have appreciated a few shields in case we must leave through the front door," he said. "If the building does catch fire and we are forced to flee, the Orcs will concentrate their arrows there."

"Is there no other way for the rest of us to escape, should it be necessary?"

"I will think on it."

Even from within the walls of the throne room, the sound of battle could be perceived as it steadily approached. Elluin looked her captain squarely in the eye. "I'm afraid there may not be much time for thinking, Nidhair."

Tinalfir jogged up to them. "I overheard, if you'll pardon me, my queen," the Silent Guard said in explanation for his urgency. "There is a large tree overhanging the western side of the roof. If we can make a hole and lower a rope, there is a chance for cover from arrow fire in the branches."

"You and Delwion go with your axes," Nidhair said immediately, not bothering to watch the guard go.

"We will have to send some of the villagers out in small groups," Elluin said. "Not all of us will be able to escape through the roof."

"They will have to use chairs as shields," Nidhair mused.

"I will leave you in charge of this," the Elvenqueen ordered, trusting her captain to make the strategic combat decisions she had hardly any training to make. All their hope now rested in the speed with which the Elven warriors outside could overcome their foes.

~.~.~

Thranduil's muscles were beginning to ache. It took much more force to harm these monsters than anything else he had faced before, and each swing had to be replicated many times over before any spider would begin to slow down enough for the Elves to land a killing blow. They were still coming from everywhere at once, their powerful dark limbs propelling them between the branches above or whisking their large bodies away across the ground with impossible speed to dodge Elven blades. And the Elven blades were becoming fewer and fewer as his warriors fell, wounded or dead. There seemed to be no end to the spiders anytime soon.

Worry clawed at him, though he forced desperation out of his heart. There were still people within the palace that he needed to protect. He needed to secure the gate while Legolas took charge of the perimeter. He could hear his son's voice crying out far to his left, perhaps a hundred yards away at the eastern wall of the palace, ordering his men to hold their arrows until the Orcs were within view. Thranduil sensed only vaguely in his distraction that the strongest of the trees were doing what they could to delay their enemies—sticking up roots to trip booted Orc feet, allowing branches to break beneath spider legs, resisting flames from Orc torches, sending out their songs in waves of confusion to all creatures of evil. But the trees' songs fell on deaf ears, and dry bark succumbed to fire, and stumbling foes regained their footing a moment later.

New voices caught Thranduil's attention a short distance behind. He risked a glance that way as he sank his sword deep into a spider's head through one of its eyes. His company had been joined by a band of five of the recently arrived villagers, wearing a few pieces of armor that likely belonged to some of his fallen soldiers. They had apparently carried a table out of the throne room, having used it as a shield on their way here, if the Orc arrows protruding from it were any indication. Now it served as a wall from behind which they began an onslaught against the spiders out of blades' reach with the final arrows with which they had fled their village.

Thranduil's mind raced as Legolas' orders began to take on a more urgent tone. He smelled smoke, and his heart froze as he realized that the Orcs were succeeding in burning their way toward the throne room where Elluin and the others were sheltering. He longed to rush over there and defend his queen, but realized that if these spiders were not killed first, all his efforts to help her and the others escape the flames would be in vain.

Pulling his sword free of the twitching spider, he lunged at another of the beasts. He could only trust that Nidhair and Elluin's other Silent Guards would protect her.