Legolas's grip on his bow tightened, and his muscles tensed as they always did before a fight. He had been a member of the Fellowship of the Ring; survived Moria; had tracked Uruk-hai across the plains of Rohan for almost three days straight; and survived the Battle for Helms Deep and the Battle of Pelennor Fields. He had seen the Army of the Dead and Sauron himself, yet every time he found himself back in the middle of a fight, he always wondered if it would be his last.
His chest tightened as he held his breath.
"They are close, your Highness," came the faint whisper of his Captain of the Guard.
Legolas nodded. The Forest Patrol waited for his signal to lead the attack against the stray band of Orcs they had spotted coming too close to their borders.
After the War of the Ring, the Free Kingdoms of Middle-earth had been working to eradicate the last of the Orcs that still remained. They all knew the job would take years, no matter how diligent they were.
Legolas had never seen a party this large wander this close to the borders of the palace, not since his father and Lord Celeborn had driven the forces of Sauron from Dol Guldur. It was unusual, and troubled him greatly, even though he did not speak these words aloud in front of his men.
He would save these fears for his father.
Legolas's ears picked up a movement. The Orcs were practically speeding their way. The Elf Prince felt his heart skip a beat as he gave the command.
"Fire!"
Arrows flew, and the blood curdling shrieks of death filled Legolas's ears. There seemed to be... more than they had originally estimated. Why had such a large party of Orcs dared to venture this close to the Elvenking's palace? Right into the lion's den?
Legolas shouted the command a second time.
His arrow found an Orc's chest.
But the Orcs weren't stopping to fight. Most of them were running past the Elves frantically, even though they could see their comrades being killed. They weren't stopping to run in the opposite direction, they kept going.
Legolas had never seen anything like it. It was as if they were running from something else, but he could see nothing behind the Orcs chasing after them. Frowning, he fired arrow after arrow at as many Orcs as possible until he and his force had overcome them.
The Captain of the Guard, Miluidor strode towards him. "Strange for orcs to wander so close to the palace borders." He said exactly what Legolas had been thinking. "Especially a party of this size."
Legolas fell into step with him as they surveyed the dead bodies. "Could be nothing."
"Or something," said his captain. "This is quite abnormal, Your Highness."
Legolas knew he was right, but he didn't want to start worrying quite just yet...
A coughing and spluttering noise was coming from on the ground. Legolas and Miluidor glanced down. One of the Orcs was still alive, black blood dripped from his mouth as he choked and gagged on his own blood.
The Elf Prince crouched down beside the Orc's head and drew one of his long white knives. He pressed the blade against its throat. The Orc literally spluttered and laughed at the same time.
"You mean to threaten me, Elfling? I am already dying."
Captain Miluidor drew his bow. "This is the Prince of Eryn Lasgalen you are addressing, filth, mind your tongue."
Legolas held up his other hand, gesturing for the Captain to hold his bow.
"Answer my questions truthfully and I will spare your life. Why are you in these lands? Are there more of you?"
The Orc spat, but his yellow sickly eyes looked into the ocean blue ones of the Prince.
"We were running!" he gagged out. "From, from..."
"From what?!" Legolas demanded. Dropping his knife, he grabbed the Orc by the neck.
"The Sorcerer."
Legolas released him. "Sorcerer?" he repeated. "The Necromancer is gone. Sauron is vanquished. What Sorcerer?"
The Orc coughed. "This Sorcerer is not the Dark Lord of Mordor, no. This one moves like a shadow coming in the night that you will never see. This Sorcerer can move things with his mind and wields two flaming, white swords–"
With that, the Orc was dead. Legolas sighed. There would be no more getting information from him. Troubled, he got to his feet.
"Burn the bodies. If you find any others alive, bring them to the palace for questioning. I must deliver this news to my father."
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Legolas tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for his father to meet him in the King's private chambers.
He sighed. He was almost three thousand years old and had learned patience over time with his age, like all other Elves, but this truly scared him. Sauron was gone, right? Or was there something else they had missed while they were too busy focusing on getting the One Ring to Mordor?
"Ion nin." King Thranduil entered the room, touching his hand to his chest in the royal gesture. Legolas saluted back out of respect and habit, but the King could clearly see his son was troubled.
"I take it the Orc party has been taken care of?" he asked.
"Yes father," Legolas nodded. "We slew every last one."
"Good," replied the King. "I sense something else is wrong. You seem troubled, Legolas."
Legolas took a deep breath. "This party of Orcs was not normal. They were a large number, far larger than we estimated, and they seemed to be running from something."
The King raised his dark eyebrows. "A large party of Orcs does not concern me. As long as you have taken care of them, that is what matters."
Legolas shook his head. "No, no. There is more. My captain and I interrogated one of the Orcs before he died." His voice dropped to barely a whisper. "They speak of a sorcerer in these woods, one who can move objects with its mind and passes like a shadow swift and unseen."
"Sauron is no more, my son. These are nothing but–"
"Why would the Orcs have dared to venture so closely to the palace borders?!" Legolas interjected.
The Elvenking turned away abruptly, his arms behind his back. Legolas could see that he got his father's attention. It was difficult to make him concerned about much, but this time Legolas hoped he had succeeded.
When Thranduil did not answer, Legolas spoke up again.
"Only something to frighten them would have persuaded them to come this close," he said.
Thranduil turned around, a frown etched on his face. He did not seem as perturbed about it as Legolas had been, but then again, he had not been there himself and spoke to the Orc. He looked more paranoid than anxious and worried like his son.
"These could be rumors and nothing more," he said. "But we have to know for certain. Whether there truly is a sorcerer roaming around Eryn Lasgalen or not, we cannot afford to take the chance of dismissing it.
Inwardly, Legolas breathed a sigh of relief. He had seriously thought his father was simply going to shoot down his concerns as nothing like he usually did. Legolas hadn't wanted to worry either, especially since the war was over, but this time something just felt off. He couldn't exactly explain it.
"Lord Celeborn must be warned," Thranduil went on. "I also seek his advice in this matter. You will ride for East Lorien in the morn tomorrow, Legolas. And... take great care."
Legolas nodded in thanks and agreement. "Thank you father. And I will."
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Meldiriel took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she aimed the arrow at her target on the tree.
Bullseye.
That was the dozeneth one today. She really did get tired of shooting at trees all the time. And squirrels, and rabbits, and birds, and occasionally if she was lucky, a deer, but killing game for food didn't bring her any enjoyment.
She wanted to do something with her life, and there was nothing she could do. Her brother and father were allowed to use their weapons to protect themselves, and she couldn't.
Meldiriel was also sick of wishing her life was different. Wishing never got her anywhere. She had heard stories about Mithrandir showing up on people's doorsteps and offering them the adventure of a lifetime, but she knew she had to be realistic. It wasn't like something or someone unexpected was going to show up into her life and change it forever, she thought with sarcasm. Besides, the White Wizard was gone. He had left Middle-earth with the other Ringbearers some years back.
Since her mother had died all those years ago, Meldiriel's life had been more of the same. Her father was never present, and her brother was all she had. While she loved him dearly, he was almost as bad as their father– extremely overprotective of her. The only recent change she and her brother had had was moving from Lothlorien to East Lorien after Lord Celeborn and King Thranduil had driven the Necromancer from his hold in Dol Guldur. Their father had thought it would do them some good change, and they would be (slightly) closer to Mirkwood where he was Captain of the Guard.
Not that it mattered. They never saw their father anyway.
Pulling her wavy blonde hair loose from its braid, Meldiriel sighed. She was done practicing for the day. She had better start supper for her brother before he came back from patrol in a few hours. For once he actually had a day shift. He served in the Woodland Guard of East Lorien.
As she began gathering and packing up her archery gear, she heard something rustle in the bushes next to their cottage. She frowned. She couldn't imagine what it might be aside from a bird or a squirrel, but whatever it was was making a lot of noise.
Suddenly, something small, green and wrinkled with long, pointy ears crawled out of the bushes and Meldiriel gasped, instinctively drawing her bow. Her first thought was that it was a baby Orc–
The creature turned its big shining eyes towards her and cooed with a little smile.
Meldiriel dropped her bow slowly, with her mouth still hanging open.
What in the name of the Valar was it?
It looked like a baby. A baby something. Something she had never seen before.
Tilting his tiny head, the "baby" babbled and waddled over to something crawling on the moss several feet away. He leapt up, pounced on a frog and stuffed it in his mouth.
Meldiriel could only shake her head to herself in disbelief. So much for no unexpected surprises.
What could she do with this child?
She couldn't let him keep wandering the woods as he had presumably had been already doing. If the other Elves didn't mistake him for a baby Orc as she had, something else would likely get him.
I can't keep him either.
Or could she?
She practically lived alone except for her brother, and he was almost never home anyway. It wouldn't be that hard to keep the baby hidden in her room as long as she kept him quiet and out of trouble until the times her brother went off to work.
But either way, she wouldn't be able to keep him hidden forever. She would have to figure out what to do with him eventually. Maybe find someone else who would take care of him, or even better, return him to wherever he actually belonged.
Meldiriel's head was starting to hurt at the thought, but at the moment, she didn't see any other option. Slinging her bow and quiver over her shoulder, she bent down and scooped up the little green baby and took him inside her cottage.