"My lord!" Elrohir burst into the study of the king, all formalities and manners thrown out of the window.
A hand grabbed him around the throat, catching him by surprise.
"Thought you could run, my young one?"
"No time - Orcs - attack - Legolas!" he gasped.
Glorfindel dropped his hand upon hearing his words.
"Calm down, Elrohir, and take a breath. You are rather incomprehensible!" Thranduil urged, fighting down his panic.
"Eryn Galen is under attack! Orcs! Hordes of Orcs! I and Legolas came under attack!"
Thranduil sprung into action, dashing out of the room after giving Glorfindel instructions to keep Elrohir where he was. Even then, the blonde Eldar had a difficult time trying to calm Elrohir down.
"I must return to help Legolas!" Elrohir was insisting as Thranduil re-entered the room with Felnor ten minutes later.
"Where is he?" asked Thranduil.
"The site of the feast!" Elrohir shouted, almost hyperventilating. "He will be overrun!"
"Very well. Glorfindel, go with Elrohir in search of Legolas. Bring him back to the palace, and do not allow him to go in search of more fighting! We will have time for that later!"
Elrohir nodded and would have sprang out of the window had Felnor not stopped him.
"How might you go to his aid without any weapons?" Felnor asked wryly, , and held out a long sword, which Elrohir accepted appreciatively.
"This way!" Glorfindel said, dragging a protesting Elrohir away from the window. "Normal folk exit through the door!"
They had barely left the study when loud trumpets sounded through the palace, summoning warriors, Glorfindel noted how disciplined and orderly the Silvan Elves were; there were no scenes of mass alarm or panic. Even the servants of the palace quickly took up their arms, women included.
Stepping out of the palace, the pair were just about to run off in the direction of the feast ground when they ran into Esendri, Elladan, and Galaesslin, a Healer from Imladris who had been chosen as one of the company.
"Glorfindel!" cried Elladan. "What news?"
"We are under attack by Orcs! Legolas is out there, fighting them off alone!" Elrohir cried, not stopping to explain any further.
"We shall go with you!" Esendri dashed off after Elrohir before any could reply.
They had barely gotten a hundred yards when a sudden screeching in the air caused them to stop. It hit them and got more unbearable. They stopped and placed their hands over their ears in an attempt to shut it out, only to no avail. Elrohir turned back with great effort to see that the rest too were covering their ears, and pain was written across all their faces. Esendri had fallen to the ground, where he was writhing in agony and clutching at his head. Elrohir stumbled toward him and crouched down helplessly beside him.
Almost as suddenly as it began, the loud screeching stopped, leaving the Elves staring at each other in confusion.
"Esendri!" Elrohir cried. Glorfindel was over, and he quickly pressed a palm to Esendri's forehead, which he found to be hot.
"Get him back to the palace!" commanded the Eldar.
As if in response, Esendri seemed to relax while Elladan scooped him into his arms. His eyes flew open, and he cried out his master's name, and he struggled wildly, refusing to be carried any further.
"I must save him!" he shouted. He leapt to his feet, pushing away the giddiness, the weakness, and took off.
Sprinting ahead, Esendri was caught off-guard by the attack from the right, and it was only Elrohir's timely blocking of the blow that saved him from serious injury. In no time, the party was surrounded by hissing, screaming Orcs. They worked through the creatures methodically, knowing that every second lost meant that the danger surrounding Legolas would grow further.
They dispatched the company of Orcs in good time, and carried on. All stopped abruptly and looked around in shock as they neared their destination. The skeletons of trees greeted their eyes, and the charred-like remains of birches, and the bodies of dozens of Orcs were scattered about.
Glorfindel quickly did a cursory check while the young ones blanched. Looks of surprise and terror were on the Orcs's faces, as if they had been mysteriously struck down by something they had not expected.
"The place, it is bereft of life, I cannot explain it!" Esendri managed to whisper, and he shivered in cold fear.
"Be on the lookout, strange deeds are about us!" Glorfindel said.
After a while, the dead number of Orcs seemed to increase, and before long, Elladan spotted one that had been killed physically, a big, gaping wound in its neck. The Elves did not linger, and instead pressed forward, a sense of doom in each of their stomachs. If Legolas were here, they did not wish to think about what had befallen him.
"Legolas!" Esendri cried, throwing all caution to the wind, as he spotted a glimpse of blonde hair lying amidst the Orc-bodies. All but Glorfindel were there in a second, and the servant quickly pushed aside the foul, reeking bodies to reveal his worst fears. There lay Legolas, his face covered in blood, unconscious and not breathing, as far as they could tell.
"Galaesslin, keep watch while I examine him!" Glorfindel said, before pushing Esendri aside. "He is hot to the touch, and still alive. His physical wounds are superficial, but we must get him back to the palace!"
The Eldar picked up the limp form after checking him for further injuries, and began a quick sprint back to the palace.
Another party of Orcs accosted them. Glorfindel looked about before passing Legolas over to Elrohir.
"Esendri, we will attempt to clear a path for Elrohir. You two take Legolas back, we shall re-group at the palace once we are rid of these filth!" Glorfindel said, taking out another Orc that strove to strike at him.
Elrohir had no time to think, and so mindlessly followed the instructions given to him. The minute an opening presented itself, he charged through it ferociously, bowling down startled Orcs in the process. Any that tried to take him down were killed by Esendri, who was not far behind.
It was not long before they had shaken off the Orcs, and came into sight of the firsts lines of Eryn Galen's defence. If not for the quick wits of the warriors, a volley of arrows would have greeted their appearance. Instead, hands were stretched out in aid, although Elrohir declined them all, refusing to relinquish the precious bundle he was holding.
"This way to the palace!" cried Esendri, and Elrohir followed.
Once they were within the safe parameters of the palace, the pair headed straight for the great hall, used for healing in times such as this. They placed Legolas down on the cushions, and healers were over in a moment, taking them aside and examining their prince.
"Esendri, what happened?" Nearil, the chief healer asked.
"We found him at the feast site, he was being attacked by Orcs!"
"Prince Legolas does not seem to be badly injured outwardly; yet he lies in a trance. But do not fear; I shall try to rouse him from this strange sleep. The cuts on his face and around his limbs are already starting to heal and he will be rid of them within a day or so! In the meantime, I suggest you wait outside, for we expect many more injured to be brought to us."
The pair exited the room, throwing last glances at Legolas. Once outside, they threw each other tired looks, each thinking about how this was not the first time they had been cast into such a position. A weak chuckle escaped them both.
"Pray, do not ask," Esendri stopped Elrohir before he could even speak. "Probably the fiftieth time this century?"
A small smile escaped the younger twin as the pair started walking. "Then I shall count myself as lucky for having rushed him to healers a mere ten times!"
"Where to now, Master Elrohir?"
"We should inform your king of his son's more or less safe return."
"Ai, this way to his study!"
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.