The fall of Mirkwood

Lies in his heart

As Fareth walked gracefully away from where her Father is returning to his throne she said, "You will regret not saving Legolas. The guilt will haunt you until your heart breaks."

Thranduil whips round and yells, "I will regret nothing ! I have much guilt laying on my shoulders already and not one gram of it will make me faulter ! Leave before I lock you in a cell to rot."

Fareth listens casually, without turning around, nods and scampers off, her white robes billowing behind her. Thranduil burns his eyes into the back of her delicate head as she slips around a corner and disappears.

Miles away, in the darkened land beyond Mirkwood, Tauriel and Legolas are camped in the middle of a bundle of trees with a fire burning and logs crackling. Neither elf dared toss a word between one another in fear of whatever lay outside their wooden fortress hear their voices and attack them; not that they wouldn't be capable of beheading it in a swish, though.

They sit there until the sun rises once again and the snarls and padding of paws disappear and their journey is safe once again. The air is still and the atmosphere at peace.

"Don't expect it to all be this easy." Legolas remarks as they collect their weapons and spur off.

Tauriel chuckles slightly and glances at her companion, "I do believe that this is going to be dangerous, that's exactly why I agreed to acompany you. I love adventure."

Legolas replies with a mere grin and the two set off on their way. They clamber majestically through tangles of branches and vines until they burst into the broad daylight. Sunrise has definitely arrived, the sun is glowing orange above the mountains.

"How long until we reach Rivendell ?" Tauriel asks, lagging slightly behind Legolas and they stride along the long grass.

Legolas whips his head round to Tauriel as he speaks, "Two days, at the most, if we keep on moving and we encounter no obstructions." Tauriel nods and they carry on, making no sound but a slight rustle of grass.

The two elves have been moving in a flash across the vast land between the outskirts of Mirkwood Forest and the base of the Misty Mountains for several hours before they reach the start of their trecherous climb to the summit.

Thick clouds engulfed the summit of the mountain range and the air is cold up there, nothing too cold for an elf not to handle. The red haired and blonde haired elves spur on up the slopes, skipping over rocks and planning their route as they climb.

Suddenly, there is a low groan from above the elves. They cannot see where the sound comes from as they skid to a halt under a small ledge that blocks their view of above.

Nevertheless, Legolas decides to take a peak, angling an arrow into his bow silently and edges out from under the weak shelter. A great tuft of dark fur comes into view as he lets his eyes survey the area as he slowly reveals himself to their company. Inch by inch, Legolas views more and more of the creature until great, yellow teeth are seen and bright, green eyes bear down on him.

In a flash, Legolas shoots the warg between the eyes and with a small yelp, its legs go limp and it collapses on the crumbling rock, dead. The green eyes roll in a different direction and the mouth hangs open, a foul odour erupting from it's throat.

"Just a warg. I wonder what it was doing in these parts." Legolas remarks, kicking a few stones away and scaling a near flat surface to jump next to the dead creature and to survey the area to see if there is any of its kin around.

"It must have belonged to the Orcs of the Misty Mountains, they shan't be far away. We must carry on." Tauriel answers, beconing Legolas to follow her and he does such the thing.