The Prince of Mirkwood (a Legolas fan fiction)

Ch.27: The Battle for Thranduil's Hall

Legolas's pov

As soon as I step one foot outside, it is as though the world has transformed. Instead of the serene, healing environment I have been in for the past few days, it turned into a hectic aura of chaos. My instincts and senses instantly heighten, my heart rate increases with each second and the dull pain in my chest disappears. As soon as I see an orc, my mind, body and soul go into fight or flight mode and before I can even think about what I am doing, I draw an arrow and shoot it straight into the orc's neck. It falls to the ground with a wet, gurgling shriek.

I quickly draw another arrow and knock it, waiting for any other orcs. The elves around me are locked in combat, hacking, slashing, killing repeatedly. I see a familiar face in the crowd. Glynn. There is a long gash along her cheek, but she seems unfazed by it. She slices an orcs head off before spinning around and cutting at another. She is fierce. I shake my head, to clear my thoughts and I notice another orc launching itself at me. I run up to it and put my bow right in front of its forehead. I release and the arrow goes through its head and into an orc behind it. So many orcs for one creature. Well, one creature that knows the whereabouts of the Ring of Power. Sauron, no doubt. The orcs screech in fury as they try to make it into Thranduil's Hall. I am not going to let that happen. I shoot more arrows at more Orcs, sending them stumbling among the carcasses. Carcasses of fellow orcs, thankfully. I have only seen a few minor wounds on any elves so far.

Yet another orc rushes towards me, its club outstretched. I duck underneath it and take my knife and plunge it into its heart. It smiles wickedly at me and I pull the now wet blade out of its chest and then I stab it in once more. And again. And again, until I am sure it is dead. Blood covers my hand and drips into the grass. My blade is stained red as well. I shove the lifeless body to the ground and spin around, ready to fight some more.

*************************

After what feels like life times of fighting, all the orcs are either dead or fleeing from Mirkwood. Thank goodness. I am soaked from head to toe in sweat and blood, only some of my own. An orc had sliced my arm when I had my back turned and he had paid with his limbs.

"Legolas?" I hear a voice call, but I can barely hear them over the blood pounding in my ears. I turn around.

"Vedui' Glynn," I greet through ragged breaths. She walks towards me, her eyes narrowed with concern.

"Mankoi naa lli sinome?" She gasps. "Mani marte? Lle tyava quel?" She brushes her hand along my cheek.

"I had to fight, Glynn," I murmur. "Ada almost didn't let me," She puts her finger up to my lips, silencing me.

"You look horrible." She wipes some dirt and orc blood off my face. I place my hand on top of hers.

"I am fine." I say, but in reality I feel awful. My head pounds, my arm stings, and my chest wound feels as if it has opened up. On top of that I am exhausted and more than hungry. I sway slightly as my head pounds more.

"Legolas?" Glynn asks hurriedly, gripping my shoulder to keep me steady.

Suddenly the hall doors fly open, and my father comes marching out, wearing a full suit of battle armor. His narrowed eyes survey the scene and finally rest on me.

"Ada..." I groan, reaching out to him, but then I fall over to the ground with a thud.

Translations:

Vedui- greetings
Mankoi naa lle sinome- why are you here?
Mani marte- what happened?
Lle tyava quel- do you feel well?