Shadow of Mirkwood

Intruders

What we see isn't what is...it's merely a representation of what we're taught to see

Lytharial reclined on her bed, the day unfolding in typical fashion. Completing her duties promptly, she now rested in her chambers, although it felt far from a moment of reprieve. Many thoughts swirled through her mind — concerns about her half-brother, the uncertain fate of her sister, looming thoughts of the impending war, and reflections on Thranduil and Legolas persisted without respite.

Soon enough, night had draped Mirkwood in an inky darkness, a silent sentinel guarding the ancient trees and winding paths. In her chambers, Lytharial was lost in the tranquility when Legolas stormed in, his entrance carrying an air of urgency and determination that demanded immediate attention.

                  "We have to go now," he declared, his voice cutting through the stillness. 

There was no room for questions or deliberation as he swiftly reached for Lytharial, propelling her out of the room and into the shadowy corridors of the palace.

She shivered as she felt his touch on her skin. She knew that Legolas didn't quite like physical touch, so, this situation was probably really urgent. 

Confusion etched across her face, Lytharial tried to keep pace with Legolas. 

                  "What is going on?" she demanded, the urgency in his demeanor sparking her sense of alertness.

                  "Border elves reported intruders in Mirkwood," Legolas responded briefly, his eyes scanning their surroundings as they navigated the labyrinthine halls.

Each step resonated with a sense of urgency, a stark departure from the tranquility that had once defined their woodland home.

As they moved through the palace, the gravity of the situation became palpable. The looming threat cast a somber shadow over the once-serene realm. Lytharial felt the weight of responsibility settle on her shoulders, matching the rhythmic cadence of their swift movements.  

The forest air crackled with tension as Legolas and Lytharial surged through the woods, their elven instincts guiding them toward the source of the disturbance. In the dim light filtering through the ancient trees, Lytharial's keen ears caught the faint sounds of clashing weapons and hurried footsteps.

                 "This way," she called to Legolas, her voice cutting through the night. 

The two elves sprinted through the underbrush, their agile movements carrying them effortlessly over roots and fallen leaves.

As they approached, the scene unfolded before them—an unexpected confrontation between dwarves and spiders. Legolas, ever the swift and deadly archer, slid into the fray with an arrow notched and ready. He released the arrow in a single fluid motion, felling one of the arachnids with deadly precision.

The sudden appearance of the elves caught the attention of the dwarves. Legolas, his bow trained on the group, addressed the main dwarf with a cold intensity. 

                 "Do not think I won't kill you, dwarf. It would be my pleasure."

The sudden scream cut through the tension, drawing everyone's attention to a dwarf locked in combat with a particularly aggressive spider. Legolas, his bow still trained on the dwarves, quickly surveyed the scene. However, his gaze was diverted as he saw Lytharial engaging in a fierce battle against the spiders.

As the distressed dwarf called out to Lytharial for a dagger, urgently pleading, she glanced over without missing a beat in her fight. 

                 "Give me the dagger, quick!" the dwarf implored.