Through Wind and Fire (LOTR)

XXII

Then there was his son, who had defied him, leaving Mirkwood to chase after Tauriel. A punishment he would have given, but it seemed as if this battle was consequence enough. At times, Thranduil still saw the elfling in Legolas, and having lost all those nearest to him, he kept Legolas close, not allowing him to see as much as an ellon of his age should. If his son had been a homebody, content in one place with familiarity, keeping him in Mirkwood would prove a rather easy task. But Legolas was completely the opposite, adventurous he was, and even impulsively so.

He had put his son in danger, led him straight into the battle front with his hatred for the dwarves. They were an idiotic people to him, and still he was prejudiced against them, but knowing that his son was compromised because of his hatred did bring sorrow to him. Thranduil knew that the residents of Laketown did not deserve such a devastation. Some of the old men that still fought could be spotted, and everywhere you turned, someone was mourning. It was heartbreaking to look upon this desolate land. In time, it would be repaired, but it now lay in crumbling and burnt piles.

Thranduil also knew that a time would come when Legolas would need to make all decisions for himself, and the time had also come when he would fight in a battle. Not fully aware had he been of Legolas until he glanced up once, seeing as hi son battled the large orc, whose grotesque eyes peered leeringly at him, the blind one clouded over and evil. Slowly the Elvenking was accepting how he must really treat his son. Too long had he treated him like a young ellon, one who was not quite aware of the world. Legolas knew much and was as mature as any prince should be. He needed to allow his son more freedom and cease from acting as if he are still a child, even if he sometimes did.

The Elvenking thought that this would be his son's first and last battle in a long while, yet never had he been more wrong. A voracious darkness reawakened at the Battle of the Five Armies, and sleep would never it take until its malicious goal had been accomplished.

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LEGOLAS' POV

Battle. One small word, yet so much pain and suffering is behind it. Irreversible consequences are present, digging themselves into the hearts of both the soldiers and their families. My first real battle had been a bloodbath, horrifying and gruesome, but nothing like the Battle of the Hornburg. So many men died, valiant men, noble and good. They left their children and wives behind, and some even their mothers. Too old were some, too young were others. The young ones almost fainted upon the sight of the sheer numbers of the orcs, and their faith faded as they set their eyes upon the grotesque faces of the Uruk-hai.

Mithrandir left us, returning at dawn of the second day of battle with Lord Erkenbrand, his eored, and an army of Huorns and Ents. Hope seemed lost, and even now does it slowly wane. Helm's Deep has stood its ground, though breached, yet all of Middle-earth now hangs in the balance. It is clear that the Enemy prepares to strike soon, it is obvious. Saruman would take Rohan, and the Dark Lord, Gondor.

With Mithrandir's coming, it brought a sense of the morning, and of a new start, burning away the black of night. Something that always reminded me of spring. Spring comes upon us, yet it is not a beautiful spring, but a foreboding one. Every moment brings us nearer to the end, to what will decide the future of Middle-earth. If only I was omniscient and knew all, but alas, only Eru has such power. Together we must fight, we must band together as brothers. The elves will not bring help, for their time has passed, and so many have left these lands.

During the battle, I was able to engage in a light-hearted orc-killing contest with Gimli, but soon after the fighting had ceased, I began to feel heavy and burdened. Those boys, far too young to see such bloody warfare. Fear was evident in their eyes, and still they fought on. For those they loved. And I too fight for those whom I love. These are not easy times, they are hard and woeful, bringing despondency to a soul. Yet we will bear through them and persevere. One battle have I survived, though it seemed as death was at every corner, waiting and waiting. Arrows did fly past my ears; knives sped before my face. But the Sea is what truly haunts me, I dare not go near it.