In Mirkwood

This is the prequel to another story that is not yet published, In Imladris. In that story, Legolas arrives at Imladris…well, I can't really say, as it would ruin the suspense in this story. I just decided to write it down because I was re-reading the story In Imladris, and thought I could expand on what happened a bit. If you are reading this, and In Imladris has been published, you do not have to read In Imladris to understand this story, or read this story to understand In Imladris, but reading In Imladris first may take away some of the suspense in this story. Then again, if you don't like cliffhangers…. *evil laugh*.

This story is set about 250 years before the War of the Ring. In my head, this makes Legolas just over 900 at the time. Definitely angsty, and ends with a cliffhanger if you don't read In Imladris as well. And in my LOTR universe, Galion (Thranduil's butler at the time of the Hobbit) was a captain in Thranduil's army for a long time before he 'retired' and became Thranduil's butler. In all probability, due to living in Mirkwood he probably would have served in the army at some time, but his personality is probably a bit AU.

This is probably not going to be as angsty as my previos fanfic, Leading into Battle (which surprised me, actually). This is just something I felt like writing, mainly as a prequel to another story that I shall publish afterwards.

Disclaimer: *fling myself down on floor and cries* I don't own any of it…

0-o-0-o-0

Light thinks it travels faster than anything but it is wrong.

No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness

has always got there first, and is waiting for it.

-Terry Pratchett-

0-o-0-o-0

The forest was silent, the trees holding their breaths. There was no breeze to stir the dark leaves, no fresh air beneath the boughs. It was stifling.

Legolas adjusted his weight, shifting slightly to the side to allow a better view through the twisted branches. He glanced behind him, his bow dangling from his hand. Behind him was arrayed his patrol, fifteen of Mirkwood's warriors. Like him, their bows were in their hands, though they were more relaxed than if they were in immediate danger. Fifteen pairs of dark eyes watched the forest.

Legolas signalled for the patrol to move forwards and they began their silent journey through the forest. Part of Legolas was uneasy, had always been uneasy, at the way that those under his command followed him unflinchingly. Part of him worried that with one wrong decision from him, their lives could be forfeited. Even though he had been a captain in his father's army for hundreds of years, commanding the troops, these thoughts still worried him. Yet he felt he could not burden anyone, least of all his father. Thranduil was becoming more and more worried as the darkness crept north from Dol Guldur, and Legolas did not want to increase the strain on the King. No, he would simply do the best he could and hope that it was enough.

The darkness from Dol Guldur was the main reason he was leading this patrol. Thranduil had asked him to check the state of the woods south of the elf path, to see how far the shadow was spreading. If they could find out how far north the spiders were moving as well, it would be even better. But even their presence in the south would not do much. Legolas sighed quietly. Sometimes he didn't know what to do. All he knew was how to fight, how to protect his home. He wondered whether it was enough.

He hardly concentrated as the patrol wove their ways through the trees. They had yet to cross the elf path, though he knew it was close by. The forest was steadily getting darker, but some sunlight still filtered through the thick canopy. Legolas knew that there was no distinct line where their realm ended and the shadow began, but this part of the forest had been the same for many hundreds of years, and as far as he could tell, it was no darker.

Legolas suddenly slowed down, his patrol coming to a stop behind him. He crouched in the branches, eyes narrowed. Something was wrong. His lieutenant came up beside him. "Hir-nin" he whispered. "What is it?"

"Can you not feel it?" Legolas murmured. "Something is wrong. The very air is thick. It takes my breath."

The lieutenant nodded. "Do you have any idea what it is?"

Legolas shook his head. "I don't, but we are still north of the elf path. It is not likely to be something serious. We will move on, in a tighter formation, just in case. I want weapons at the ready."

The lieutenant nodded and spread the command around the rest of the patrol. Soon they moved forwards once more, but this time their bows were taught, arrows in their hands. Legolas led once more, his silver eyes relentlessly scanning the forest. The feeling of unease was still with him, but he could not turn back to the palace.

After a while, the lieutenant moved forwards to Legolas' side again. "Sire?" he murmured. "Is there anything…?"

Legolas shook his head slowly. "I don't think so" he muttered back. "There is still some unease about the forest, but it may just be the encroaching darkness." He glanced back at the patrol. "Stand at ease" he said softly. "I don't think there is any need for…"

Legolas trailed off. New sounds now filtered through the forest. Sounds he had not heard before, but they were unmistakeable. It was the sound of orcs. "So far north!" he muttered to himself.

He stayed motionless for a minute longer, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise. Eventually he turned to the patrol. "There aren't too many" he murmured. "We should be able to take them."

The patrol, their faces grim, nodded together. Legolas turned and scanned the surrounding trees. "Set up a loose line in front of them. Use arrows until there is a risk of them getting through, then drop down to the forest floor." The orcs were too far north already. Legolas would not let them get any further. He would not let them invade his realm.

"Understood?" he asked quietly. The patrol already had their bows at the ready, arrows nocked. Legolas nodded and turned, moving forwards towards the orcs.

0-o-0-o-0

Legolas glanced to either side. Beside him sat his lieutenant, his face grim. The rest of the patrol was strung out in the trees, waiting. Ahead of them they could hear the orcs. The foul beasts were moving stealthily for orcs, probably as they were so far north. There was less darkness for them to hide in.

Legolas waited patiently, not moving a muscle. The noise of the orcs became louder, the Black Speech grating on the elves' ears. Eventually there were hazy movements in the trees, before one of the orcs stepped forwards.

Legolas held up his hand, signalling for the patrol to ready. Immediately fifteen arrows were on bows and were pointed at the orcs as they came through the trees. The last orc stepped into view and the group of beasts made to move forwards. That was when the first one fell with an arrow in its throat.

With a foul cry the orcs ran forwards, seeking for their enemy. Arrow after arrow fell from the trees, and orcs fell with them. But the remaining orcs, over twenty, kept charging forwards, until they had nearly passed the line of Legolas' patrol.

Legolas shouldered his bow and dropped from the trees. His knives were in his hands before he hit the ground, and as the rest of the patrol dropped behind him, he flicked his wrists, slashing the throat of a surprised orc.

The rest of the orcs let out a roar at the sight of their enemy, and they surged forwards, scimitars raised in bloodlust. Legolas raised his knives. And so it began.

It had always been like this when fighting. He never felt anything. The body danced, delivering death with sharp knives, but the mind seemed to sit back. He never thought much, not when he was in the midst of battle, in harmony with his weapons. It was as if his soul was somewhere else, watching the gruesome battle.

It was only when the battle was over, when there was silence once more instead of screams, it was only then that he really saw everything once more. When the dance stilled and the battle ended, that was when his soul crept back in, whispering words of despair. It was then that Legolas questioned what it was he did. It was then that the numbness crept back in, when the weariness overtook him once more. When he saw the blood, the pain and the grief, it was then that he felt his spirit flicker and fade a little more.

But now, no such thoughts entered his head, for he was in the midst of battle, perfectly balanced. Legolas plunged his knives into the chest of another orc, which fell dead in front of him. He did not even notice the small cuts covering him; it took a serious injury to throw him off balance.

But now a different sound cut into his concentration, and Legolas paused momentarily. Around him his patrol fought fiercely, but already one elf had been pulled to the edge of the battle by another. He now lay on the floor, eyes closed. From his quick glance, Legolas could not tell if he was breathing.

Legolas spun around as the sound of pounding feet reached his ears again. His eyes widened as the pounding intensified.

"Pull back!" cried out Legolas, taking a few steps back as the rest of the patrol that was still standing came up behind him. In front of them the remaining orcs paused and everyone under the trees, elves and orcs, could hear the pounding of many feet. The orcs bellowed in joy, and more cries echoed in reply. Legolas raised his knives as many more orcs burst from the trees and charged.

Legolas tried in vain to keep the patrol together, but the orcs were too many. As one they charged, and though many fell to the bright knives and swords of the elves, many more took their places. Legolas pushed forwards again, his knives whirling in his hands, and for a moment they fell back. But the moment was too brief, and then the orcs overwhelmed them once more.

Legolas heard a brief cry and spun around in time to slash the neck of the orc that had gotten behind him. He wasn't fast enough, however, to help the elf that crumpled to the ground, blood pouring from a deep wound in his side. Around him the rest of the patrol was falling, staining the forest floor.

A sudden cry came from his lieutenant, who briefly locked eyes with Legolas. He wasn't in direct danger though. Legolas suddenly realised his eyes weren't locked on him, but on something directly behind him.

Legolas spun, but already he was too slow. He felt the cold sharp pain as an orc's blade sliced into his side and he twisted, pulling away from it. Bright red blood spilled down his side as Legolas impaled the orc with a knife. For a moment pain blinded him, but another cry from behind him made him raise his weapons once more as the orcs pushed forwards. His patrol was dying around him.

Ten were now lying on the ground, either dead or wounded. Their blood soaked into the soft ground. Legolas looked around frantically. They were being overwhelmed. They were all going to die.

"Pull back!" he cried out as he spun, his knives flashing. More orcs fell dead, but there were too many, too many to turn and run. He was unbalanced, his thoughts crowding his head. He had failed. He had fought as hard as he could for his father and his home, but none of it had made any difference. None of it had mattered.

To Be Continued

Duh Duh Duh! Next chapter will be up tomorrow...