#legolasgreenleaf

Up ahead, a young elf prince strode with ease across the rough rocks and soot brought from the murky sky above. As he glanced back, he saw the pack of orcs seemingly doubling in size, his mind began to race as he drew his bow. 

“We must fight,” the prince stated, coming to an abrupt halt. 

“Legolas,” Aragorn began “I admire your courage but we are far outnumbered-”

“and out of breath” Gimli wheezed, collapsing to the earth. 

Aragorn looked to his friend then back to the elf, “We must press on, there is an abandoned village just over this hill, we might seek secrecy there.” 

Legolas looked from the man to the orcs across the horizon then back to the man. “Get up, my friend” He commanded, hauling the dwarf off the earth, agitation lacing his normally, steady tone. 

A bellowing howl rang across the land as the three quickened their pace once more. Soon, the man spotted a court yard, surrounded by strong iron gates. “There!” he pointed, redirecting the focus of the group. 

“On three.” Aragorn began, “one, two, three!” the three creatures pulled back on the gates, a whining shriek filled their ears as the iron released its hold for the first time in centuries. Once inside, the three braced the gates and waited in a circle of stifled breathing. 

“Where are the bastards?” Gimli huffed, his axe resting on his shoulder. 

“Hush now,” Aragorn whispered, looking about the forgotten stone walls of the village’s court yard. The three stood in a circle for sometime, until they heard the growling language of the orcs and the howl of their beasts.

The three passed a look of awareness between each other, tightening their grip on their weapons. 

“What are they saying?” Aragorn whispered into Legolas’ ear. 

Legolas tilted his head slightly to hear the orcs beyond the gates. 

“They know we are here,” he stated flatly, “yet, they hesitate.”

Aragorn scrunched his eyebrows, “What do we do?”

“We wait.” Legolas said.

A few moments passed and nothing but the sound of grunting beasts surfaced from beyond the walls. Gimli shifted his weight, eagerly awaiting an attack, Aragorn stood still with a strong grip on his sword and Legolas perched at the foot of a statue, listening, waiting. 

A crunch echoed throughout the stone, disrupting the silence. Gimli wheeled around to face the noise, only to find stone. Aragorn’s eyes frantically scanned the tops of the walls. Suddenly a scarred head popped over the wall followed by a body. “Legol-” Aragorn began but an arrow sent the orc back flying over the wall. As if on cue, dozens of orcs began to flood over the walls and the sound of thunder echoed as the beasts tried to break down the gates. Legolas’ arrows began to fly, swiftly taking down the orcs one by one. 

“Give me a boost will ya, Laddie?” Gimli grinned at Aragorn. Aragorn rolled his eyes as he squatted down to thrust Gimli into the air. Gimli flew over to a ledge, welding his axe at the same time, decapitating the orcs that met him. 

Turning around Aragorn was met by a blade but skillfully blocked it, then kicked the orc back into another. He then spun to sweep the legs of an orc while slicing open the body of another, all in one fluid movement. A foot landed on its head as Legolas hopped across the court yard on the heads of the orcs, like a game, all the while releasing arrows into the sky. Once he reached Gimli’s side, the two took down 20 orcs in a matter of seconds. 

“Haha! That makes 14 for me!” Gimli cheered, looking slyly at Legolas.

“28!” Legolas grinned, “oh-” 

The two ducked as an orc swung a sword over their heads. Gimli went to swing up his axe but Legolas swept his legs, then fired an arrow into the orc’s chest. 

“29” Legolas announced.

“Ya cheated!” Gimli protested, his face the color of his beard. 

“You just have to be quicker, my friend.” Legolas smirked.

A cry came from across the court yard. Legolas looked for the owner of the sound, only to find Aragorn buckling at the knees, an arrow in his side.

The two leapt from the ledge and made their way to their injured friend but were met by a new wave of orcs blocking their path. Legolas looked pass the orcs, to Aragorn, who lie on the ground, moaning in pain. 

“There are too many of them!” Gimli cried, swinging his axe.

Legolas shot an arrow into the chest of two more orcs, as he reached for another arrow, his fingers were met with air. A grunt escaped his lips as he drew the daggers at his sides. He looked back in the direction of Aragorn, only his body was no longer there. His eyes frantically scanned the court yard until he saw a cloaked figure dragging Aragorn across the grass. He pushed past the orcs, only to be met by a larger orc, a breed he’s never seen before. This one darker, the scars formed symbols foreign to his teachings and hair that draped across hulking muscles. He cocked his head to the side in curiosity but was struck about the side and tossed across the court yard like a doll. Legolas moaned in pain, and reached for his missing dagger. The new orc, came into view and stepped on his arm. A sharp pain surged through Legolas’ arm, as he stabbed the orc in the calf. This move did not injury the orc but only angered it, the orc bent down and grabbed Legolas by his neck, strangling him. Legolas’ feet dangled and his eyes bulged but he could not seem to escape the orc’s grasp. 

Suddenly, a dagger came into contact with the orc’s throat. The orc froze, blood cascading down his scarred skin, his body slumped and Legolas fell to the ground, gasping for air. Above Legolas, the cloaked figure from before stood, bow drawn. Legolas tried to stand but failed and settled for rolling onto his knees. The figure moved swiftly across the court yard, in strong strokes, fast releases and skillful leaps the figure eliminated 1/3 of the orcs in minutes. 

Legolas while regaining his composure, watched the figure glide with little to no effort about the court yard. Something about these movements, which were heavily elvish influenced, seemed dreadfully familiar to him. He looked down at the fallen orc beside him. “Such strength, such accuracy,” he thought. In the throat of the orc the handle of the dagger caught what little light the sky was producing in magnificent arrays of color. He tried to catch his breathe but the air was suddenly unbreathable.

 He reached over the corpse, and pulled the dagger from its throat. He turned the forgotten relic of his past in his hands slowly, inspecting every curve and indention. His eyes began to sting with the sorrow of a thousand mourning souls. Looking up he saw the orcs retreating back over the wall and through the broken gates. Gimli jogged over the Legolas, bewildered, yet enticed by the figure. 

Legolas slowly stood to his feet as the cloaked figure, pulled the other dagger out of a fallen orc. The figure turned to face Legolas, and froze.

The court yard fell silent with the ambience of connection.

The figure began to approach the two slowly, which only gave Legolas more adrenaline. The figure then stopped a couple feet away and held out their hand. Legolas looked from the hand to the dagger, a breath he’d been holding escaped his lips as he held out the dagger. The figure reached for the dagger but Legolas, in one motion, dropped the dagger, grabbed their hand and pulled back the hood. He stiffened. 

“S Suilad, Legolas.” She said.