Where Shadows Breathe [Legolas Fanfiction] :on hold:

Chapter Twenty: Run

Lovely artwork was given to me by BookDragon20075—thanks to her and if you have any, feel free to send it my way. ;)

Chapter Twenty: Run—Legolas

We stumbled through the forest for a time, disoriented, unsure, cautious. I was not the only one who had been shaken by Duvainor's accusations.

Occasionally, one of my archers came beside me, offering a gesture or word of encouragement. "We do not believe him—anything that he claimed," one said, his gaze a fusion of spark and steel. Another placed a firm hand on my shoulder and nodded, jaw clenched with a determined strength.

My warriors may not be unbreakable, but neither could they be called weak. It was but only for their strength and my father's willpower that Eryn Galen remained standing. The lax tongue of a demented elf could not change that, though his words be heavy blows upon the belief of my warriors. It was then upon my shoulders to not doubt the fortitude of Mirkwood's defenses and hope—know—that Duvainor spoke of naught but lies.

We could not return to the stronghold quickly enough.

My feet scraped against a tree root and I was jolted from my mind's wandering. The trees, having silenced themselves to a low murmur many days past, shouted a warning before quieting again. There was a moment's pause—a half-held breath. I stiffened. A shadow neared.

I felt them before I heard them, and heard them before they appeared.

The leaves rustled for only a moment, but the slight sounds were indication enough. "Daro," I hissed. "Lasto..." The command was unnecessary, my warriors having heard the indications even before I spoke. There was a rustle followed by a hiss. My hand tightened upon my bow.

And then there was only chaos. Branches snapped, bushes were trampled, and spiders burst from the depths of darkness. I hardly breathed before a shout leapt from my mouth. "Stand your ground! Archers, to the trees, everyone else—engage but stay near." I had yet to finish my statement before my warriors were moving, a smooth force of resolve. Why the spiders would follow us this near to the stronghold, I did not know. Nor could I discern the number of our attackers but I knew—

There were too many.

The spiders came pouring from the distance, one and then another. Even as the beasts still appeared, I knew there were too many for my company. The spiders would swarm upon us as a wave in the darkening flood of this fight. My contingent of warriors was too sparse, too under prepared, stretched to their limits. Should the battle rage on... I feared who may still be standing at battle's end.

But determination thrummed and my warriors never ceased in their efforts. The spiders were coming, coming, coming—nearer and nearer, their legs crossing each other in a sea of spindles and torn silk. Their eyes flicked upon us, clicks sounding as they moved. I tightened my grip on my bow, waiting for them to be close enough—

But they had stopped. No longer did they advance, but they remained in their formation, strung along the outskirts, their legs forming a web of foreboding. They hissed and clicked, joining together and building to a cacophony of sound and doom. Their sound was as that of a war cry—unrelenting and condemning.

We could but only look on. The trees shook with anger. My warriors became rigid but did not move. What could they do? What should I do?

There was no time to think—only to act. But before I could so much as utter an order the spiders silenced themselves. Their movements stilled. Collectively they hummed—and then sank back into the depths of the forest's shadow.