Little Legolas Stories

The Morning After

'Legolas!' Culthien called, 'Where are you?'

'Over here,' Legolas mumbled from the corner of the room he was in. His mother followed the sound into the room.

She had been busy that night tending to wounds, telling people where to go, organising defenses just in case the orcs came back and the other elves weren't there to protect them. There were a few stupid orcs that chose to attack the impregnable fortress.

At one point in the night, she broke down crying. It scared Legolas to see his mother in such hysterics.

'I have word that the elves that were guarding the halls were successful,' She told him, leaving out the fact that there were countless losses and only seven hundred would return. The spiders had taken over the forest though, but they had managed to dive the orcs away.

'Ok, thank you Nana,' Legolas said glumly, still holding Alëa's body. 'Should we bury her?' He asked after a long period of silence. Culthien was quite shocked, but then felt really sorry for her son.

'Ok, but we should find her mother and wait until her father comes,' she said slowly and softly.

'Nana,' he looked up from Alëa, 'She isn't coming back is she,' he said bravely, his lips began to shake and then he burst into tears. His mother quickly came to comfort him. She came and sat down with him putting her arm around his little shaking shoulders and pulled him into a hug. Alëa's body was covered in blood, but a lot of it had been washed away with tears.

The sun started to come up, giving hope for the return of the elves. It's amber rays set fire to the dark sky, casting an autumn feeling over the forest of Greenwood, only, Greenwood wasn't green anymore. The orcs and spiders had burned many parts of the forest and now cobwebs were starting to infest the area.

'It doesn't even look like home,' Legolas whispered, turning from the window, 'It looks like a mirky swamp.'

'Mirkwood,' Culthien stated under her breath. Legolas heard it though.

'I guess its Greenwood no longer, Mirkwood it is, Nana,' he said softly.

Images of jumping orcs and spiders flashed through his mind, the spear flying into Alëa's stomach, the cries of the dying elves, orcs killing people he knew, spiders hissing, the Orc that cut his back.

The memories were too painful, and the searing pain of the cut on his back brought him back to reality. He winced as the movement caused the blood to start dripping again. It felt wet, hot and sticky on his clothes.

'Legolas? Are you ok?!' Culthien screeched. She picked him up not caring what his reply was and carried him to the healing house, where two elves immediately came to his attention. They quickly took his shirt off and washed the long cut on his back, they quickly applied some herbs to help it heal faster. Legolas was crying from the pain, but he also was crying from being torn away from Alëa. They bandaged his back, with the help of his mother, and sent him to rest.

Within a few minutes, Legolas fell asleep due to sheer exhaustion. He dreamed of the night, and how terrible it was. He woke suddenly when he heard voices that he recognised.

'Where's Legolas?' Thranduil asked someone.

'He is in the healing house,' an elf replied to him. Thranduil quickly skidded into the room and saw his son lying on a bed, clothes soaked in blood.

'Legolas?' He gasped.

'Ada?' He looked up and smiled to see that his father was ok.

'Legolas!' Thranduil cried, kneeling down beside Legolas' bed, 'are you alright Iôn Nîn?' He asked.