SouthWestern Greenwood - 

The Watch Tower of 

Amon Lanc

Legolas' heart hammered in his chest, and with his pulse racing so fast he was almost certain he felt faint...he didn't have time to feel faint.

He had been right about the watch tower connecting with the feast hall - it did on the lower courtyard by a bridge that was now broken.

The jump was too far to reach on his own but he was pretty confident he could swing the gap at a slightly lower point, then use the fallen rubble to clamber up the rest. He was quite the nimble elf, it was always his strong suit in training, and he was forever being tested on how far he could push himself psychically; how he could use the terrain, or how far he could suspend the laws of gravity to make a jump or near on impossible move.

He had loathed it when he was younger, but his Adar always insisted he keep up that element to his training and he never understood why until now. Fighting was grand but if you got yourself caught in a tight spot knowing how to escape was always extremely useful. And this was indeed a tight spot, only he was't trying to escape, he was trying to rescue.

He had spied the battle between his father and the terrifying orc - a monster so large and ugly that Legolas wasn't even sure if was orc - and he was intent on reaching him as quick as he could.

His mother was beyond the bridge, he had saw her try and move! She was alive and he was determined to get to her before any more harm could befall her.

There was the remains of old, elven, rope in one of the lower corridors which he raced to retrieve so he could make the planned jump. But by the time he had resurfaced with a decent length of rope the scene of the fight had drastically shifted.

The deafening crack was the first thing that alerted the young prince to the danger as he raced to a lower ledge - one he felt was the best to jump from. It jutted out just clear of the corridors level and had a main supporting column running through it, he could secure the rope to that and use it to swing to the far side, and hopefully - with some luck - the old rope would hold. But the sudden shift in the trembling foundations made Legolas question his decision.

Tying the rope to the column his eyes darted upward at the sound of a shriek so earsplitting that it made him cringe...that was his Adar.

It was only a moment later that the orc appeared at the broken bridge above Legolas dangling a frail form over the drop tauntingly.

Legolas sucked in a sharp breath, his keen eyes zeroing in on the familiar form of his Naneth as she fought uselessly with her captor.

He was going to throw her!

His quick mind sped ahead of his body; he measured the distance of the gap, he judged the force of the fall, the angle of height, and the split second timing it would take to execute his plan.

He dared not think of what had befallen his father, for he must have been truly incapacitated for it to come to this - a monstrous creature to have its claws wrapped around his mother again!

He remembered a time not so long ago when his father spoke in vehement promise that never again would any vile creature lay a hand on his family.  A promise that he would die first before he would allow any of them to succumb to such a fate, and he knew his father to hold onto promises with steadfast loyalty. Now with his mother on the brink of peril he could only assume the very worst...and in that instant he felt it was his duty to pick up the mantle of his Ada's promises.

Time suddenly seemed to still.

In the moment the orc monster released his grip on his Naneth Legolas felt his heartbeat grow steady, his breath even, his senses heightened. What he was about to do was almost too risky to contemplate, for if he failed then he would die, but if he succeeded they both would live, and that outweighed all other outcomes in his mind.

He took the few strides to the edge of the ledge with perfect ease.

He breathed in and on his next exhale...he jumped.

Legolas leaped into the cavernous drop that spiralled into the dark hallow of the ruined fortress. Fully aware of every twist and bend he needed to force his body to execute to succeed.

He let up one last prayer...in the hope that it would be enough...that he could catch her...that he could rescue her.

xXx

If pain could take form it would have personified itself in the desolate face of the stricken shell of an elf that lay on the dirty ground.

Blood oozed much too forcefully from the gash at his brow. A smattering of discolouration spread across the right side of his face and down his jaw. His eyes had darkened and sunk into the depths of his hallow sockets, the emptiness in them almost resounding as they stared past the monster and into the space of nothing beyond the bridge.

His knuckles turned white as his hands clawed into the dirty ground, the rocks scraping and scabbing his skin. He bit down hard on his tongue, a coppery taste filling his mouth and choking off the guttural heave of a sound that came from somewhere deep within him.

He began to tremble, violently so, and his chest heaved again like his body literally wished to expel the pain from itself...but there was no release from this.

The beast stalked towards him, but Thranduil found his vision was blurred and his hearing dulled by the roaring in his ears. It wasn't until the creature stood above him, teeth bared in a victorious sneer, did he feel the weight of his defeat crash about his shoulders.

It was over...she was gone...the light went out.

Thranduil felt his eyes lower to the ground, his head hanging dejectedly. He didn't even flinch when he heard the slice of steel as the orc measured to take his swing. He'd already lost his heart today - why should it matter if he lost his head?

He breathed in one last time and let his mind steal him far away from this place - to a dream that his spirit constructed for him.

It was a timeless moment, just a fragment of something beyond reality, somewhere foreign yet completely familiar to him.

She stood as close to him as possible but he couldn't hold her; her face upturned and eyes sparkling with mirth as she looked into his. Her smile as serene and calm as it had always been. She was at peace, content, and caught in the light that surrounded her from the moment he had beheld her in the depths of his darkest night. Thranduil was captivated and at rest in those eyes, and in them he saw the reflection of a lifetime of memories.

A question, a dance, a kiss - they all flashed across her expressive grey eyes. He saw her heart, her very open and honest soul, and he saw her love. Her love that circled around a child, and how her heart broke for the little life she had poured so much into, and as he felt her heartbreak he saw the clarity of her light...

...he had reasons to carry on...she had left herself behind...she gave him her love in his family.

The whoosh of the blade fell through the air just as Thranduil's eyes snapped open.

He ducked.

The blade crashed into solid ground with an earsplitting clang!

He launched a jab of his elbow into the beast's chest - it stumbled back - the blade was free to grasp. His fingers curled around the hilt.

He sprung upwards, curving around the orc, bringing the blade above his head he swung with all of his might.

The vile and grotesque head of the monster contorted in shock as it was sliced clean from his shoulders. The black blood splattering back against the rocks, across the King's skin, and painting a final end to a bloody and dark day.

Thranduil dropped the sword and gave a gruff gasp, taking a moment to absorb his victory, and his loss.

He wasn't sure how to react, or if he had any energy left in his bones to react, instead his hard as ice eyes danced across the fortress. It still shook and crumbled, collapsing around him, just like the foundations of his spirit.

He had to move, had to get out of the ruined city, and find his children...that is what she would want him to do now.

So with heavy feet - like they were shackled with great weights - he shuffled forward with no desire to make him go any faster. Truly he wasn't sure if he would ever feel anything again? If he would ever open his heart to feel such devastation again?

He couldn't take it...he couldn't even accept it...how was he supposed to live now?

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

A/N:  *Bites nails* It's all so TENSE.

Happy Thanksgiving to my American Readers...I hope you are all having a sweet time eating turkey and being thankful :)

Media:  Zack Hemsey - Vengeance

 (with the Lord of Rings footage in the background) 

PS.  As a little seasonal treat I will be updating again tomorrow - but please vote/comment/share and let me know what you are all thinking???