Chapter 4: The war that must inevitably come

In her wisdom Galadriel saw that Lórien would be a stronghold and point of power to prevent the Shadow from crossing the Anduin in the war that must inevitably come before it was again defeated (if that were possible)... Unfinished Tales

Legolas, Galithil and Amglaur sat on the balcony of Dolgailon's talan, watching the evening's revelry in the village courtyard. Some of the elves below them were playing flutes or harps or drums. Some were singing. A great many were dancing to the music, flickering lantern light glinting off the embroidery on twirling gowns. And most were drinking the berry wine produced in the village. Legolas, and especially Galithil, would have preferred to participate in the merrymaking, but they had given their word to Thranduil, as a condition for coming to the village, that they would be inside the talan by nightfall. Not even Amglaur would countermand that order. It was just as well, Galithil tried to console himself. This way there was less of an opportunity for conflict to arise between the villagers and he and his cousin. Of course, Galithil had not seen Moralfien since the day they had delivered the King's letter, and neither had he seen Dannenion nor Dolwon. Without any of them, the potential for conflict was greatly reduced, but still, here they sat, spectators only, none-the-less.

Bored, and poorly satisfied with only watching the dancing, Galithil was considering going inside to look for something better to do when a commotion erupted in the courtyard. First, a few people on the northern side of the courtyard turned to look down the main path into the village. Then they began to call out, attracting more people's attention. Galithil could not distinguish what they were saying over the music, but soon a crowd had gathered on that side of the courtyard along either side of the path, a rising cheer drowning out the faltering music as they did.

Galithil, Legolas and Amglaur, exchanged a curious glance and stood along the railings of the balcony. Whoever approached, they were no threat. That much was certain from the villagers' reactions. But who it could be? Galithil suspected he knew the identity of at least one of the arrivals. The question in his mind--indeed the subject of the wager he and Legolas had privately made when Amglaur had sent his messenger to the stronghold--was who else might be coming.

They had little time to wonder before Conuion rode onto the village green.

From the corner of his eye, Galithil saw Amglaur take another step toward the railing.

Immediately after Conuion followed the King, his stallion cantering to the middle of the yard. Then Lindomiel and her mother, Limmiel, appeared, flanked by two additional guards.

"You win," Galithil said softly to Legolas. "I do your copying for two days when we get back to the stronghold." His cousin was trying to smother a grin. Galithil had known that was a foolish wager. He should not have accepted it.

Amglaur's fist came down on the railing. "When Thranduil sent a message for me to await an escort for myself to Lorien and for you to return to the stronghold, this was not the escort that I expected," he said angrily.

"It is the one I expected," Tulus muttered from where he stood in the entry to the balcony.

Amglaur looked over his shoulder, aiming a withering glare at the guard.

"I beg your pardon, my lord," Tulus said quickly, looking down.

Legolas laughed. "It is the escort I expected as well, so be kind to Tulus, Daeradar."

Amglaur directed his scowl at his grandson.

Legolas only shrugged, still smiling. "Well, you did not expect to leave, permanently, to go to Lothlorien without giving Nana a chance to say goodbye to you, did you? And surely you did not think Daernaneth would stay here when you left?"

"Indeed, I did," Amglaur answered, spinning on his heel to leave the balcony. "In fact, I specifically said in the message that I sent with the courier that Thranduil should keep your daernaneth safe here until I send for her. The journey to Lorien will be far too dangerous for her to make now. Look at what happened to those dwarves."

"Even so, you will never convince her to stay," Legolas countered, following him. "And you have no hope of making her do it."

"But I will try, just the same," Amglaur said.

Galithil watched Legolas as he pursued his grandfather, still arguing with him. Then he moved to follow them himself, trying to keep his expression under control, but knowing he was not entirely successful. Watching Amglaur and Thranduil spar was exciting, regardless of the topic, and this occasion would be no different, he was sure. Moreover, he had never seen Amglaur argue with Lindomiel or Limmiel, but he had seen Lindomiel argue for what she wanted many times and he had never seen her lose. Lindomiel's naneth was likely to be equally adept at getting her way, no matter how determined Amglaur was to prevent it. This confrontation promised to be entertaining. He only hoped Amglaur would not bait Thranduil here as openly as he did at home. At that thought, he picked up his pace to catch up with Legolas and Amglaur.

By the time Galithil reached the foot of the stairs, Amglaur was already in the courtyard bowing to Thranduil as the King handed his horse over to one of the guards. Legolas was right behind his grandfather, also greeting his father with a bow. That gesture softened the guarded expression the King wore in response to Amglaur's openly irate posture. Lindomiel stepped forward, putting one arm around Legolas's shoulders and taking her father's hand in her free hand. She was smiling as she normally did, but there was a warning in her eyes aimed at her father. Galithil relaxed a little at that and stepped out into the courtyard to greet his uncle himself. As he did, the villagers began shouting questions at the King.

"What have the dwarves said that merits the personal attention of the King?" one shouted.

"Or is it the news Pauron and Maenil have delivered from Lorien that has brought you south, my lord?" called another.

"Is there news of something threatening us here?" an elleth asked. "Are you here to fight?"

Galithil hesitated on his way to join his family. Normally, Dolgailon would field these questions. Since he was not here, Thranduil was clearly debating whether to respond himself or look to Amglaur or one of the guards to do so. Conuion appeared distinctly unwilling to be distracted from his duty and Amglaur had eyes only for Thranduil and Limmiel. Galithil doubted that he had even registered the villagers' questions.

"He does not seem to be prepared for a battle," one of the village guards responded to the elleth's question.

Galithil squared his shoulders and walked to the edge of the crowd. "The King is not here for a battle," he said loudly enough to draw the villagers' attention. Of course Galithil did not know that for certain, but he was confident that if his uncle expected a battle, Lindomiel and Limmiel would not be present, so this was a safe assurance to make. He stood a little straighter as the villagers all turned to him. "He is simply here to escort Lady Limmiel and the Queen to the village," he continued. "Lord Amglaur and Lady Limmiel are returning to Lorien, given the news that Lorien's King has gone to the havens. And since Lord Amglaur cannot escort Legolas and I back to the stronghold, the King has come to for us himself."

From the corner of his eye, Galithil saw Amglaur was now addressing Thranduil. Somewhat forcefully. Thranduil, in turn, was only paying him half attention. The rest of his attention was focused on Galithil. He looked mildly surprised and Galithil could not tell if it was because of the way Amglaur was publicly speaking to him or if it was because Galithil had stepped forward to manage the villagers' questions.

"Lord Amglaur is going to claim lordship over Lorien?" someone asked, pulling Galithil's attention back to the villagers. It was one of the villagers that had not been shy about criticizing Sindar rule when Maenil was singing that song about Nimrodel.

Galithil made no sign of remembering this elf's attitude. He only nodded. "Lord Amglaur is Amroth's uncle, King Amdir's brother. With Lord Amroth gone, it is Amglaur's duty to return to Lorien to organize their defense however its people deem best."

The elf made a bitter face, glanced at Thranduil, and obviously thought better of making any further comment in the present company.

"But Pauron said orcs are attacking Lorien," another villager said. "And apparently there are not enough warriors to defend the people there. What can Lord Amglaur do alone? Will Lord Thranduil send warriors from this realm to aid Lorien?"

Galithil faced that elf, but said nothing. That was not a question he could answer. Amglaur had asked Pauron if Amroth would want aid from Eryn Galen. He had said he would approach Thranduil to ask for aid. But once he had learned that Amroth had left Lorien, Amglaur never again mentioned asking for aid. His attention was focused on more fundamental problems and Galithil had no idea if Thranduil would grant the aid, even if asked.

"I have cousins in Lorien," an elleth standing nearby Galithil said. "I would take my bow and help Lord Amglaur defend Lorien if it came to that."

"So would I," one of the village guards said.

"The King and Lord Amglaur have a great deal to discuss before Lord Amglaur and Lady Limmiel leave for Lorien," Galithil finally answered, in an effort to shut down this line of questions before it got out of hand, while at the same time avoiding promising anything in Thranduil's name. "I am certain they will both address such concerns before Lord Amglaur leaves."

He jumped slightly when an arm fell across his shoulders.

"Indeed we will," Thranduil said. "But it would be helpful to know if willingness to aid Lorien is a widespread sentiment. Would I, if asked, be able to muster military support for Lorien?"

A chorus of 'yes, my lords' arose from many of the elves and ellyth in the crowd.

"Thank you," Thranduil and Amglaur said together. "As Lord Galithil said," Thranduil continued, "I will be certain to inform you all of the decisions Lord Amglaur and I make before I leave." He turned to Galithil. "Is Moralfien here? Can you introduce her to me, please?"

Galithil scanned the crowd again quickly while shaking his head. "She is not here, my lord," Galithil answered.

"She left the village shortly after Lord Galithil arrived," Seregon volunteered, his voice openly scornful. "Family business, she said. In another village to the east."

"I will meet her some other time then, I suppose," Thranduil said, studying Seregon's expression. "Pity." Then he steered Galithil in the direction Amglaur was walking with Limmiel and Lindomiel, towards Dolgailon's talan. "You managed that well," he said in a soft voice leaning over slightly to speak in Galithil's ear. "Just as your adar would have done for me. I can always count on you and Dolgailon and I appreciate that greatly."

Galithil could not help but swell with pride at being compared to his father and older brother.

*~*~*

"She said it appeared to be made of fire itself," Galithil said. He was speaking to Thranduil, but Lindomiel and Limmiel were also at the table. Both ladies had their hands over their mouths. Amglaur put one arm around his wife's shoulders and reached to pat Lindomiel's arm. "And it stood as tall as the talans in the trees here."

"She said no one had any idea what is was, but she seemed quite certain it was not merely a dragon," Legolas added softly.

Then he and Galithil elaborated, relating the details Nis had given them about the dwarves' battles with Durin's Bane.

Even Thranduil's eyes widened in response to that story.

"She said it did not appear interested in leaving Hadhodrond," Galithil concluded. "It never pursued them outside the Gates. But she did say orcs were attacking Hadhodrond from without. Indeed, it sounded as if they had taken it altogether. Durin was killed. So was his son, Nain. It is Thrain, Nain's son that now rules the Dwarves and he is taking them to the Ered Mithrim."

When Galithil stopped speaking, Thranduil let out a long breath and waited a moment to see if either Legolas or Galithil had anything more to add. When they did not, he nodded silently and turned a grave look on Amglaur. "To say that this is a dire development is an understatement. It is a dire development that has arisen far too close to either of our realms." He shook his head. "I have never heard of such a creature. Do you have any idea what it could be?"

"None," Amglaur replied. "I have been thinking about little else since first hearing this news myself. The only creatures I have ever heard of that wield fire as a natural weapon are dragons, but dragons are not made of fire." He paused and glanced at the ellyth and the children. "Balrogs were made of fire," he said quietly. "So I have heard. The only battle I fought where we faced balrogs was the War of Wrath. I saw the damage they did in that war, but not the creatures themselves. Did you see them?"

Thranduil quickly shook is head. "Never. This could not be a balrog. They were all destroyed during that war. We never even saw them in Mordor." He paused, studying Amglaur's face to try to determine if he agreed. "It must be some new sort of evil," he concluded firmly.

Amglaur shrugged. "Whatever it is, I do not have mithril armor or weaponry. I can only hope that Nis is correct and this evil, whatever it may be, stays in Hadhodrond."

Thranduil leaned back in his chair, frowning. He did not want to base the safety of his realm on the hope that this creature would stay put. Long experience had taught him, with very harsh lessons, that evil never remained idle when easy prey waited passively to be claimed. He knew Amglaur's experiences were the same as his own. He also knew Amglaur was right--like Lorien, Eryn Galen did not have mithril armor or weaponry. Wooden arrows would not defend this forest or its people from a creature of fire. But more importantly, he did not believe that this creature arose in Hadhodrond, so close to Dol Guldur, by mere coincidence. This was a purposeful maneuver of the Enemy. An attempt to grasp for strength and position. And it was a successful one. Whatever else Thranduil thought of dwarves, their stronghold helped fortify the Hithaeglir and keep all of Rhovanian safer. He would rather have them for neighbors than orcs and dragons or worse things.  

He looked back at Amglaur. "We need to get this information to Elrond and to Cirdan." He paused. "We need to get it to Fengel in Dale and Earnil in Gondor."

Amglaur snorted. "You run to Men and the Noldor about the plight of the dwarves. My greatest concerns fall more along the lines of whether I should try to convince the people remaining in Lorien to stay or to flee; if they stay, how will I defend them given that they have not been able to defend themselves until now; and if they flee, to where should I lead them? Here? The Havens?" He shook his head. "No. I do not have time for Men and the Noldor."

Thranduil's brows drew together. "It is not my place to advise you on how to rule your own realm, Amglaur, but I will say this: we will unite together or we will fall to the Enemy one by one. If you expect Men and Dwarves and Elves to stand with you when the time comes, sharing information, at times like these, is very little to ask." He waved Amglaur silent when his father-in-law's expression contorted bitterly. "I will see to it that this information is brought to Imladris and Dale. Imladris and Dale will deliver it to Mithlond and Gondor. And I will also send warriors with you to Lorien if you ask it of me. You saw yourself that the people here are anxious to aid their kin in Lorien. I only ask that you wait long enough for me to find Dolgailon and consult him before I pull warriors to accompany you."

Amglaur looked away. "I cannot ask you to send anyone now. I do not even know what I will find in Lorien. Let me go there and see what has happened. I will send a messenger when I know more. For now, I would appreciate enough warriors to see me there safely--perhaps five or six to accompany me?"

Thranduil nodded. "That I had already planned to do, of course. Surely one of the village guards can find one of the patrols. We will ask warriors from it to go with you."

"One of the Southern Patrol's lieutenants checks in with this village every morning at dawn, my lord," Galithil said, drawing Thranduil's attention. "You can leave a message with them to have however many warriors you want to come to the village."

"Have them meet us on the border rather than coming here," Amglaur said. "I am leaving at dawn myself for Lorien. I have waited long enough."

"There will be warriors already stationed directly between this village and the border," Galithil said. "You can use those and tell the lieutenant to bring more in from elsewhere. Or send village guards to patrol the path to the border until more warriors can relieve them there."

"Village guards would not be adequately armed for patrolling the forest border," Thranduil replied. He raised an eyebrow in question when Legolas, Galithil and Amglaur all exchanged a uncomfortable glance in response to that comment.

"The village guards in this village are all armed with dwarven swords," Legolas said quietly without looking at his father.

Thranduil's mouth fell open slightly. "I beg your pardon, Legolas. What did you say?" he asked sharply.

"Thranduil," Lindomiel admonished. "Legolas did not give them the swords."

"Who did?" Thranduil demanded. "Dolgailon cannot arm his village with swords, but not offer equal treatment to other villages. And I cannot supply all the village guards with swords. This is unacceptable."

"Dolgailon did not give the guards the swords," Galithil said, quick to defend his brother. "Moralfien bought them."

Thranduil looked at Galithil, eyebrows raised.

Legolas nodded. "So said the village guards. When Galithil was delivering your message to her, I asked her if she had bought them and she confirmed she had. Moreover, she told me that I could tell you that she bought them with her own jewels. She said to tell you that she knows that you do not allow the villages to conduct foreign trade, but she values the safety of this village over your rules and the jewels were hers to use as she saw fit. She also said to tell you that many of the people in this village support and appreciate her sacrifice. Those are her words, my lord."

Thranduil felt the blood rising in his face. He also felt Lindomiel's hand grasp his lightly. "I am truly looking forward to meeting this Moralfien," he finally said, not trusting himself to say more.

"Despite her bold words, she is obviously looking forward to meeting you also, my lord, given the fact that she left the village immediately after responding to your letter," Galithil replied, his tone somewhat mocking. "She had to have guessed that you and Aunt Lindomiel would come to farewell Amglaur and Limmiel."

Thranduil snorted in laughter. "Too true." Then he shook his head and sobered. "You are leaving in the morning then?" he asked, looking at Amglaur.

Amglaur nodded. "I cannot allow Lorien to languish without leadership any longer."

"I understand, of course. I will do as Galithil suggests and ask the lieutenant to have the warriors at the border escort you. He can determine whether it will be best to call in other warriors or use the village guard temporarily to guard the forest border. I am certain he can also give us information about the security between here and the border and the plain outside it."

"Thank you," Amglaur replied.

"We will be ready to leave in the morning then," Limmiel said, standing and pulling Lindomiel up with her.

Amglaur's expression hardened instantly.

Thranduil looked at Lindomiel, confused. "You surely do not think you are going to Lorien with your adar?" he asked.

Lindomiel shook her head, "Of course not, Thranduil. Just to the forest edge, to fare him and naneth well."

Legolas and Galithil sat up straighter in response to that. "May we go also, adar?" Legolas asked.

"I saw the Southern Patrol's reports to this village for the last week, uncle," Galithil chimed in. "It would be safe for us to go. There has not been an orc or spider spotted anywhere, except in the southern-most portion of their range. Around this village, and between here and the border, it has been clear. They reported it to us since they learned that Amglaur was going to travel onto the plain from here. Tulus asked them to keep him informed."

Thranduil looked from Lindomiel to his son and nephew. He had no intention of allowing them to go to the forest border. They were going straight back to the stronghold. All of them. He clenched his jaw in response to Lindomiel's serene expression--it was the one she wore when she intended to simply do as she wished, no matter what anyone said to the contrary.

"No, you may not go," he said firmly. Ostensibly, he was replying to Legolas's question, but he had directed his statement to Lindomiel. "The southern realm is too dangerous for casual travel."

"They traveled safely all the way here," Lindomiel countered. "And it is less than half a day's travel to the border from here. If we leave at dawn, we will easily be back here before dusk. We each have a guard with us, both you and adar are experienced warriors and we will be meeting warriors from the Southern Patrol. I do not see how this can possibly be dangerous, Thranduil. I think we should allow the children to see their daeradar off. It will be the last time in a very long time that they will see him."

Thranduil opened his mouth to tell her that he had no intention of allowing her to go, much less the children. Then he glanced at his children. He sent them here to deliver a letter and ask dwarves how they came to be injured in the forest. They had, instead, managed a village leader who was far exceeding her authority and a very serious military crisis for the whole of Rhovanion. And they had handled both situations well. He could not deny that. Indeed, even as they related to him information from the dwarves that terrified him, he had been impressed by how detailed their report had been--everything he would have expected from any warrior. He sighed. Despite the fact that they were wearing the swords he allowed them to carry south, they were not warriors. Of course, neither was Lindomiel, and he knew he had no hope of preventing her from going with her father. And that meant he had to go with her. And if he went, how could he leave Legolas and Galithil here? Even guarded by Tulus and Galuauth, he was not comfortable with them being here alone. Better they stay with him.

"Very well, we will all go together to the border to fare Amglaur well. But will will be back here before nightfall," Thranduil conceded.

Legolas and Galithil grinned. "Thank you, adar," Legolas said.

Thranduil only nodded.

"We should go prepare to leave," Limmiel said, starting to walk away with Lindomiel.

"You cannot go with me to Lorien," Amglaur said firmly, stepping in front of his wife. His tone was calm and low, but his stance was that of someone armed for a fight.

Limmiel looked at him evenly. "Of course I am going with you. I am not staying in this forest to leave you to face danger and difficulties alone."

"The journey to Lorien will be too dangerous..." Amglaur began.

Limmiel rolled her eyes. "And the journey from Menegroth to Sirion was not dangerous? The journey from Lindon to Lorien was not difficult and dangerous?"

"That was different," Amglaur interrupted. "We were forced to flee Menegroth. And we made the best plans possible for the safest journey to Lorien. Let us do that again by allowing me to go ahead to get control of the situation before you follow me."

Limmiel coolly shook her head. "I am going with you. I fought in Menegroth. Twice. Just as you did. I fought when we were attacked in Sirion. I fought, as everyone did, in the War of Wrath, for pity sake. I am capable with both bow and sword. I will not be a hinderance to you. And I will be safer traveling with you now than with another escort later. And if it is dangerous, it is foolish to make two trips and endanger two escorts. Better to get it all over with all at once. I am going with you and that is the end of it."

Amglaur's jaw clenched and he turned a glare on Thranduil. A glare so stern that it brought Thranduil to his feet to face his father-in-law somewhat defensively. Several sets of eyebrows rose in response to that.

"I told you to keep her in place in the stronghold," Amglaur growled softly.

"And how did you expect me to do that?" Thranduil asked. "Should I have locked her in your rooms? Or perhaps I should have ordered the Gate Guard to arrest her when she left the stronghold?"

Amglaur said nothing in reply and his expression did not soften, but the tension in his posture did slacken, if only slightly.

"She packed a horse and said she was going to join you," Thranduil continued. "You cannot expect your wife to stay here, without you."

"Would you let Lindomiel make this journey?" Amglaur asked. "You did not even want her to go to the border." When Thranduil did not immediately agree that he would not allow such a thing, Amglaur scowled forbiddingly at him again.

"I doubt my ability to command Lindomiel," Thranduil confessed, trying to ignore Lindomiel's smile and the children's struggle to hide their own. "As I doubt your ability to command your wife. And if it will take physical force to keep her in Eryn Galen, I will leave it to you to apply it."

Amglaur snorted. "Coward," he muttered, turning away from Thranduil.

Thranduil laughed. "I am a coward? Was it not you, my lord Amglaur, who ordered me to imprison your wife so that you would not have to face her?"

Amglaur looked over his shoulder at Thranduil. "I want more than five warriors to meet us at the border if Limmiel cannot be prevented from going. "I want at least...eight. Ten would be better."

"I will see to it," Thranduil replied quietly.

*~*~*

Legolas half listened to his mother chatting with his daernaneth and daeradar and half focused on his own thoughts as he rode westward to the forest's edge surrounded by guards. As the trees around him thinned and grew more slender, their conversation had turned from happy memories of Amglaur and Limmiel's time in Eryn Galen to plans for when Lindomiel, Legolas and Galithil might visit Lorien once the situation there was brought under control. That those plans were all completely hypothetical--little more than an attempt to make their upcoming goodbyes seem less permanent--was underlined by the fact that Thranduil had not even made a token protest that Galithil and Legolas would not be old enough to make such journeys for many years yet. Legolas was very sad to see his daeradar leave. He had lived in Eryn Galen Legolas's entire life. So the fact that Legolas was also excited to be approaching the forest's western border made him feel a little guilty. But they should have a clear view of the Hithaeglir. The largest 'mountain' Legolas had ever seen was the one that housed the stronghold and everyone said that mountain was really little more than a large hill. To Legolas it was huge. He was very interested to see something bigger. To see what his daearadars and adar had crossed to come to the forest.

Legolas's horse started, bolting a step or two sideways before Legolas brought it back under control, when an odd noise sounded just on the southern side of the path. It was a sort of twanging noise that sounded familiar, but Legolas could not immediately identify it. Familiar, but out of place, somehow. He turned toward it as he tried to sooth his horse.

So did Thranduil, Amglaur and the guards. Indeed, their attention snapped towards the noise and they crouched lower on their mounts, while simultaneously reaching for an arrow from their quivers.

An arrow being released, Legolas realized! At the same time, he heard a high pitched noise--a woman's squeal. He looked in its direction while raising his hand to pull an arrow from his own quiver. His fingers never so much as grazed their fletchings before he was seized by the back of his tunic and pulled from his horse to the ground. Panicking, Legolas reached instead for his sword while trying to turn to face whoever had grabbed him, but his efforts were futile. He found himself held immobile between a body against his back and his now dancing horse. Its skittering movements pummeled him as he struggled to take in the situation around him.

"Stay still!" Tulus's voice hissed in his ear.

Face pressed against the flank of his horse and turned towards where Galithil and his mother had been riding moments before, Legolas saw his cousin in a similar position--sheltered between the solid shield of his horse and his guard at his back. Galuauth was peering over Galithil's horse in the direction the noise had come from. Eyes locked with Galithil's, Legolas made an effort to relax his posture and stop fighting Tulus. His guard responded by taking the slightest step backward in order to peer over the back of Legolas's horse. Legolas took advantage of the breathing room to do the same.

He saw his father and Amglaur, bows drawn, returning the attack, though Legolas saw nothing to shoot. Conuion's attention was focused on the guards he commanded. He held three fingers down to the ground next to him. Then he held up four fingers briefly before turning one to point at Galuauth, then Tulus and then the forest behind them. Without waiting for any acknowledgment, he nocked an arrow, turned, took a step forward to position himself in front of and slightly to the right of Thranduil. He loosed his arrow. It, along with those already loosed by Thranduil and Amglaur, elicited screeches from the low growth along the path. As the three guards that had accompanied his grandparents and mother south joined ranks with Conuion, black, snarling forms emerged from the tangled undergrowth. Legolas's breath caught and his heart seized as they bared their teeth and brandished black swords, taunting the thin line of elves they faced. There were many, many more orcs than guards. His father and grandfather did not have a chance of standing against them.

"Into the trees," Tulus commanded, pulling Legolas around with one hand and slapping the horse's flank with the other.

Galithil was half shoved by Galuauth, half pulled by Tulus to stand next to Legolas.

Legolas craned his neck to see Galuauth herding his mother and grandmother together and into the trees. Both seemed to be protesting, but Galuauth was unmoved. He forced them forward. Legolas had little time to contemplate that. Tulus grasped his arm in a painful grip and pulled him towards the tree Galithil was already climbing. "We cannot leave them," Legolas cried, gesturing back towards his father. "They cannot defeat that many orcs alone."

"No they cannot," Tulus replied, pushing Legolas against the tree. "But they can hold them back while we escape. If we do not take too long to do so, they might escape themselves. Up!"

Legolas's eyes widened and he stared at his guard.

"Legolas, up!" Galithil yelled at him from the tree. "Now is not the time to argue. We must obey Conuion. He is the captain."

Legolas scowled up at his cousin and then looked back over his shoulder. The line that his father, grandfather and the guards formed had already been pushed back several paces. One of the guards was already fighting with his sword in his offhand, his right arm held tightly against his torso and bleeding profusely. Legolas leapt and grabbed a branch, hauling himself into the tree. Tulus followed him, crouching on a branch between he and Galithil.

"Go straight north," Tulus began urgently, pointing in that direction. He obviously intended to say more, but instead he fell silent, squinting in the direction he was pointing.

To Legolas's left, from the tree naneth and daernaneth had climbed, a sparrowhawk called. Legolas frowned. No hawk would call attention to itself in the middle of this battle, even if disturbed by elves in its tree. From the corner of his eye, Legolas saw Conuion and Thranduil both spare a moment to glance over their shoulders. Their expressions were grim. Then Legolas heard the twanging noise that had begun this horror, but twentyfold as loud and from the opposite direction. From the north. Seconds later, arrows struck the trees around Legolas or buried themselves into the ground near his father. Thranduil side stepped a hewing blow from an orc close by him and that same orc, suddenly exposed by Thranduil's movement, was struck by an arrow. So was the guard next to Amglaur. He fell to one knee, an arrow protruding from his calf.

"We have to fight," Legolas said, turning to Tulus.

"We will have to fight," Tulus echoed him. "Our escape is cut off." He pushed Legolas and Galithil against the trunk of the tree and for a moment, Legolas thought that his guard intended for he and his cousin to cower behind it while he fought. Legolas reached for an arrow and nocked it against his bow. That was not going to happen! Galithil was doing the same. "Keep the trunk between you and the orcs," Tulus ordered, positioning Galithil on a branch on the western side of the trunk and Legolas on the eastern. "Target the eastern flank of the orcs. Galuauth and the ellyth will target the western flank. The orcs are wearing heavy armor--aim for their neck and head if you can. The joints of their armor are its weakest points if you have no other shot."

He said nothing more. Instead, he turned, crouched low on the same branch Legolas occupied, though further from the trunk, so Legolas was still able to hide behind it, and began to neatly pick off orcs. As soon as he and Galuauth began shooting, arrows began flying back at them, into the trees. Legolas stood immobile for a long moment, staring at the line of orcs, his blood pounding in his ears. Then he took a deep breath, chose an orc, drew back the arrow he had nocked moments before and relaxed the fingers on his bowstring. His arrow struck the orc in its open mouth. It reeled backward and collapsed to the ground. Legolas released his breath and his stance and reached for another arrow, while looking for another orc to target. He found one and then another and another still, in swift succession. Each fell. An orc at the front of the line, on the side that Legolas, Galithil and Tulus were targeting stepped forward, snarling like a rabid beast. It shook a furious fist, clutching an arrow, shouting something in its own foul language at Legolas. Then it nocked its arrow and aimed straight at him. Legolas froze, unable to move. Before the orc reached full draw, a yellow-fletched arrow with two black stripes--the fletching Tulus used--sank deep into its throat.

"None of them will hit either of you while I am still on this branch," Tulus called without pausing his attack. Another orc fell to one of his arrows while he spoke. "Focus on ending this, so we can escape. Once the way north is clear, flee, no matter what else happens."

Legolas drew another deep breath and targeted another orc, focusing on the pattern of nock arrow, draw, release--struggling not to focus on the arrows that struck the trunk near him. Struggling to keep his hands from shaking so badly as to ruin his aim.

Soon, Legolas was running out of targets. Unfortunately, he was also running out of arrows. He glanced over his shoulder to see how his father and grandfather were doing. He gasped. Amglaur, Thranduil and Conuion stood alone, pushed back nearly half way from their original position to the trees where Legolas and the others held off the orcs on the northern flank. Conuion was now fighting with his offhand and Legolas could see bleeding wounds on both his father and grandfather. The other three guards were not in sight, but far too many orcs still were.

Legolas shifted position, standing with his back to the trunk. He pulled an arrow from his quiver, targeted an orc close to his father and released his arrow. That orc fell and another quickly followed it. So did two more of its comrades when Amglaur and Thranduil took advantage of their shock and confusion at the sudden onslaught of arrows.

"What are you doing?" Tulus demanded.

"Helping adar," Legolas drew a breath to reply, but his response was cut off by an arrow flying from the shadowy overgrowth south of the path they had been following. A sharp scream left no doubt that it had struck its target. Legolas's head snapped west in time to see his daernaneth jerk, slam into the tree trunk and then slide, struggling but failing to maintain balance, to the ground.

Legolas strangled for air against the lump of his heart pounding in his throat.

"Where did that arrow come from?" Tulus asked. At the same time, he stepped onto another branch so that Legolas and Galithil were positioned between him and the trunk.

Legolas shook his head. "South," was his only answer as he studied the ellyth writhing on the ground. He took a step towards her only to feel Tulus's grip close on his arm.

"Nana!" Lindomiel called.

Legolas sucked in a sharp breath when he saw his mother crouched low on the branch where she stood. Galuauth held her around her waist. "You cannot go down," he was shouting.

"I cannot hold them all back," Galithil shouted.

Legolas turned to look at his cousin in confusion and then realized their mistake--Limmiel had fallen and the orcs to the norrth were charging in to finish her off, unchallenged because Galuauth was too busy keeping Lindomiel in the tree, Legolas had turned to fight the orcs on the southern flank and Tulus was searching for the source of the new threat against them. Both Legolas and Tulus loosed arrows against the charging orcs, but it was not enough. Some--maybe half--fell. The rest reached the base of the ellyth's tree. Two grabbed Limmiel and pulled her to her feet, twisting her arms behind her at an unnatural angle and causing her to again cry out. Another orc grabbed the arrow protruding from her side and twisted it about, loosing a grotesque laugh as it did. Another held its knife against her face and began to cut. Still another orc swaggered forward until it stood, pressed against his grandmother's struggling form. It licked her from the neckline of her dress to the base of her ear. Then it savagely bit her neck in the place it had licked it. Once again, she screamed.

Unable to target any of the orcs for fear of hitting his grandmother, Legolas watched, unable to breath. He was about to close his eyes when his grandfather appeared next to his grandmother. A down stroke of his sword felled the orc cutting Limmiel; the upstroke killed the orc biting her. Amglaur aimed another blow at the orc pulling on the arrow in her side and another at one of the orcs holding Limmiel up. He had to divert that attack to fend off another orc charging from the northern flank of the battle. Legolas was suddenly reminded of the need to help Galithil and Tulus hold the orcs back. He reached for an arrow, but as he did, his mother freed herself from Galuauth's grasp and leapt down from the tree, sword drawn. From his peripheral vision, Legolas saw her remove the arm of one of the orcs holding Limmiel. Galuauth followed Lindomiel from the trees and killed the other orc. Limmiel fell to her knees and Lindomiel crouched over her, Galuauth and Amglaur flanking them and, for now, holding the orcs approaching them at bay.

Legolas nocked an arrow and shot an orc charging his mother, sending it flying off its feet and face down to the ground. Legolas reached for another arrow. His hand floundered about before finally falling on one. He nocked it and killed another orc. "I am almost out of arrows!" he shouted, glancing at Tulus and Galithil. Galithil was entirely out of arrows. He had drawn his sword and was studying the battle on the ground around Limmiel intently.

"We are staying in the trees," Tulus shouted, loosing his last arrow and lowering his bow. He seized Galithil's arm. "You do not have the skill to fight so many enemies at once."

"Neither does nana," Legolas cried, sending his second-to-last arrow into an orc that was charging Lindomiel from behind.

Amglaur dragged her so that her back was against the tree she had jumped out of. Then he flanked her along with Galuauth and drove his sword into the gut of another orc.

Tulus shook his head. "This battle is lost," he said quietly.

Legolas's eyes widened and he turned to stare at his guard. Seeing his grim, sickened, expression, Legolas followed his gaze in time to see an orc drive Conuion to his knees with a blow that cleaved his shoulder. That orc fell when Thranduil drove his sword into its back. As he put his foot against the orc to pull out his sword, another aimed a wide swing at Thranduil's gut. It struck him full force, knocking him down. He fell on his back, sword still lodged in the last orc he killed, hands fumbling for the knife in his boot.

"No!" Galithil and Legolas yelled together as another orc raised its sword for a killing blow.

Legolas seized the last arrow from his quiver, drew and sent that arrow into the orc's ear. Then he shouldered his bow and drew his sword. "I am not going to die treed like a frightened squirrel." He jumped down from the branch and ran, full speed, towards his father, not certain, and not caring, if the pounding steps behind him were Tulus and Galithil or orcs chasing him.

"Legolas!" a rasping voice cried, as Legolas used the full force of his forward momentum to impale an orc towering over his father's fallen form. "Tulus get him out of here," the voice, weaker still, commanded.

Legolas pulled with all his might, shoulder against the orc his sword was embedded in. It pulled free. Legolas swung at another orc. Its sword, arm still attached, fell to the ground. He swung at another, hitting it low across the shin as he ducked under the blow that orc aimed at his head. Standing, he automatically directed his upswing at another orc, catching it under its breastplate. His sword stuck again, pinned between the orc's armor and the rib Legolas had cleaved. Legolas tugged. It would not come free. He heaved as hard as he could, but his sword was drawn down as the orc sunk to it knees. Behind him, Legolas saw another orc swinging at his neck.

*~*~*

Adar -- father
Naneth -- mother
Daeradar -- grandfather
Daernaneth -- granfmother
Hadhodrond -- Elvish name for Khazad dum
Hithaeglir -- Elvish name for the Misty Mountains