Thorin cast an evil glare in the direction of Prince Legolas. He could only assume the elf was Prince Legolas, due to his striking resemblance to that filth, King Thranduil. If he could even be called a king . . .

Surrounded by elves, accosted on his way to Erebor, his temper found itself displaced. Stripped of his weapons, his dignity, he fumed, feeling something build up within him. He glanced again at the elves; tall, haughty creatures!

"My Lord, Legolas! This blade we found upon the dwarf with the evil glare. It is a curious blade."

Thorin ground his teeth. Orcrist! His sword. His sword!

"This is the blade of our people!" Legolas exclaimed, turning the weapon in his hands before he slid it back into its sheath. "I shall deliver this to ada when we return."

Thorin's eyes exploded as Legolas—that creature—slid the sheath into his own belt. His anger grew as he thought of Thranduil holding the weapon. He lunged forward at Legolas, his fingers clawing to wrap around his throat. He hurtled past two startled elves, ducking their attempts to restrain him. Legolas spun around with wide eyes, his mouth open to issue a command but the words died on his lips, transforming into a cry of pain as Thorin swung a hand at him.

A streak of white lightning exploded from the dwarf's palm, shocking Thorin as much as the elf, and caught Legolas square in the chest. The elf flew back into a tree, his chest smoking.

The elves let out a unified gasp of horror. "He is a bender!" One black-haired elf dropped to his knees beside Legolas. "Legolas! Oh, my lord Legolas!"

Thorin stood still, unsure if it had been a dream, half-dazed as two elves grabbed his arms. As he was dragged back, he let out a scream. "Kili! Nephew!"

The dwarves surged forward but the elves closed like a tidal wave and held them back.

"Kili!" Thorin yelled. His nephew turned toward him, his dark eyes confused, and froze as a stray spider rose behind him. He stumbled and fell as the spider came at him, managing to roll onto his back before meeting the gaze of the creature standing over him. His eyes opened in horror but blinked in surprise as the spider jerked and tumbled flat to his left. From its back, jerking free her knives, a woman leapt down. Her eyes met Kili's and he swallowed.

"That filth dwarf has shot the Prince, Tauriel," the black-haired elf at the prince's side said. "Vengeance is in order."

"I will assist you in your task," a cold voice said.

Thorin's eyes bulged as an elf dropped from the low branch of a tree. The newcomer's blonde hair hung in a braid and he carried a spear, held in both hands. His blue eyes were icy fire, his jaw set in a grim line. Dressed in black, with a shirt of mail covering his chest, he radiated hostility.

Kili stumbled to a halt beside Thorin as Tauriel released his collar and turned away. Kili met Thorin's eyes before they both looked at the new arrival.

"He resembles Legolas exactly," Kili murmured.

"What foul evil is this?" Fili wondered.

Tauriel gave a slight bow to the newcomer. "My Lord Brenen. I fear Thorin Oakenshield has slain Prince Legolas."

Brenen inclined an eyebrow as he stepped to Legolas's side. "My brother is stronger then that. Jen, take my brother to the healing wing." His voice was steady with anger.

Jen nodded and slipped his arms under his prince, lifting the moaning Legolas as he stood. He glanced at Brenen before he disappeared into the forest.

"Evil!" Thorin spat in Brenen's direction. "What foul magic has created you and your clone? What price of innocent blood has been spilled in this unholy birth? What sickness have you awakened?"

Brenen's eyes flashed. He flung out a hand, a roll of flame bursting to life in the air. The heat blew Thorin's hair back.

"Enough!" Brenen shouted.

Thorin fell into startled silence with a last scornful spit. Behind him, his company murmured.

Brenen stepped up to Thorin. "You will argue no further, and neither will you insult the children of my parents. Move or you will know the wrath brimming in my heart, and you will have no need to fear dragonfire but mine instead!"

"Best not to argue, lad," Balin spoke in his ear. "Not under the circumstances. Best do as he says."

Brenen gestured to the surrounding elves. "Come," he said. "The dungeon hungers for prisoners."

Legolas cracked his eyes open. He let out a sharp hiss as a soft hand touched his forehead. "Nana?"

"Yes, my little leaf, it is me," Cinwe said, her voice as soft as the hand stroking Legolas's forehead. "Lie still; you are hurt."

"The lightning bolt," Legolas began.

"Jen told us all," Cinwe said, placing a finger on his lips. "And Thorin Oakenshield is secure, with Brenen watching over him."

Legolas sank into his pillows. Cinwe tucked the blankets around him. "The healers have tended to your chest. You will not die for your armor took most of the blow. What you need now is rest."

Legolas nodded. "But may I see ada first?"

"He is on his way," Cinwe said, studying the angle of the sunlight on the floor. "Or he should be; he had a meeting."

The door of the room flew open, admitting Thranduil. He walked in the flames of his silken mantle, dressed in full royal garb, with his hair down and his crown resplendent on his head. He gave his wife a kiss as she rose and then leaned over his son.

"Legolas?" he inquired softly, should his son be asleep.

Legolas turned his head to look at his father. "Ada, I must apologize. I failed in my duties to bring the prisoners safely home."

If he had not been hurt, Thranduil looked like he would have shaken him. "Have I raised so poorly you fear failure? That you fear rejection from me? You failed in no way; Thorin's powers were beyond our comprehension to predict."

"But Brenen handled it so well," Legolas croaked.

"Brenen," said Thranduil, taking Legolas's hand, "Was not hit by a lightning bolt."

"He would not have been hit," Legolas murmured. "His reflexes have always been better than mine."

"He has been training with Jaiz," Thranduil said. "Brenen has the talent Jaiz too possesses; natural skill with body and blade. Your skills are honed and experiences, ion nin, but you cannot expect to meet the level of a natural."

Legolas sighed. "I am useless. But will you at least give me a hug?"

Thranduil opened his mouth to correct but stopped as he saw the tease in Legolas's eyes. He leaned down to hug him. "Of course. Brenen is as unsatisfied as you; natural talent is not all he longs for."

Legolas yawned, pressing himself against his father's chest. "Mmm . . . I know what he wishes for most, ada . . . I do not want it yet."

Thranduil rested his chin on Legolas's head and smiled quietly. He too knew what Brenen desired. Cinwe reached to take his crown, saying, "Have you nothing else to do?"

"No," Thranduil said. "I will burn the dwarves another day."

Cinwe placed the crown on the bedside table. "Do not allow you anger to cloud your judgement, Thrandy. I know it can be hard sometimes, but I believe in your control."

"Without it, we would have a far larger brood," Thranduil teased.

Cinwe hid a smile. "You may speak the truth. I hardly know how you can keep your hands off me."

Thranduil slid his legs under the blankets on Legolas's bed. Legolas mumbled, "I wish you would talk about these things elsewhere; it makes me come all over queer."

"You are a little old for that," Thranduil remarked, amused. As he flopped down and drew Legolas close to him, Cinwe tugged away the folds of his mantle. She leaned down to kiss him. "Rest, my love, you do need it. It is a pity Legolas must injure himself to get you to sleep."

Thranduil smiled sleepily. "Let Mykar have run of the office; he does enjoy the work. It amazes me."

"You amaze me," Cinwe said.

Brenen stood on the high ledge, looking down at the row of cell doors set in the wall opposite. He wore a wistful expression as he thought of the dwarves

A path cut into the stone wound past the cell doors; leading into steps leading to the deep chasms of the cellars. Brenen leaned his spear against the wall behind him before returning to the ledge. He crossed his arms; Tauriel sat below at the cell of the dwarf she had saved. Brenen could not hear what she said for he wishes not to eavesdrop but the expressions on their faces said enough.

Brenen crouched down on the balls of his feet and rested his elbows on his knees with a small sigh. It was not love he craved, though it looked appealing. He craved something as wild and unpredictable as love and briefly wondered when his father would speak to Thorin.

It is done! Benders: Dragonfire is a tale alive, to be updated every Thursday. Apologies for the snaffu on Tuesday. I did indeed post this tale but Fan fiction bugged up and broke the link.

Have you enjoyed the opening premise of this tale? Let me know so I know which of you beautiful souls, new and old, are reading!