Disclaimer: okay people, you all know the spiel (can’t spell, sorry) already. I don’t own Legolas or Thranduil, but I made up the rest, so I do own them. If any of you guys feel compelled to write a story with any of them please ask me first, okay.

*Elirium is an Elven word that I made up. It means "Prince of Mirkwood and Heir to the Throne."

By Legolas (love my pen name!)

Legolas smiled into the gentle breeze blowing casually through the thick leaves of Mirkwood forest. The purling scent of lilac carried on the wind surrounded him, and eased his mind as to the things to come. He closed his eyes, and sighed, waiting for the inevitable that was to come.

As he stood, the flecks of sunlight breaking through the leaves flickering on his handsome face, he heard the near silent sounds of someone approaching.

"Elirium*,"said a voice from behind him.

Legolas opened his eyes slightly and looked over his shoulder. "Yes, Jariel?" He asked, already knowing the answer to his question.

Jariel, a tall elf, dark of hair and light of eye, stood, looking grave, as he had a habit of doing. "The prisoner, Highness. He is prepared for his morning walk."

Legolas nodded and turned to face the captain of the guard. "Then we shall proceed then," Legolas replied, equally grim. "I only hope that his walks in our forest will at least aid in his recovery."

Jariel nodded and turned himself toward the east, where Legolas had faced. "I agree, Elirium. Yet, I fear he has far to go."

At that point, they both turned to the sound of soft feet on the forest floor, and they saw, approaching, a regiment of some ten elves, surrounding the topic of their conversation. The elves approached, and bowed at the shoulders in respect to their Elirium, and their captain. "We are ready, Highness." Came the voice of one of them.

Jariel nodded, and looked to Legolas, whose decision it was as to the time of their departure. Legolas nodded and turned toward the forest. "Then bring him." He said and started off, with Jariel at his side. The regiment surrounding the prisoner followed closely behind.

They walked with their unseen captive for several hours, nothing being heard of him except for the incessant hissing and other guttural noises that he was known to make at times. Legolas often had to force himself to call the prisoner, whom Aragorn had named Smeagol, a ‘he’ rather than an ‘it’. He was repulsive, and it seemed that the touch of an elf to Smeagol’s skin actually caused him physical pain. This, Legolas could not understand. From Aragorn’s description, Smeagol was not evil, not in make, anyway.

As they walked through and under the boughs of Mirkwood, Smeagol would ask to stop now and again, asking if he could climb one tree or another, and always, the compassion in Legolas’ heart would not allow him so deny this pitiful creature these moments of freedom. The scent of the trees will do him good, Legolas would think to himself.

Jeriel was not as pleased with letting Smeagol climb so far away, however. "Elirium," He said, approaching Legolas, who was leaning against the tree in which the captive Smeagol climbed. "I do not have a good feeling about this." He looked up into the boughs of the tree with concern filling his ageless face.

Legolas looked at him and smiled a little. "Calm yourself, Jeriel." He relied. "He is letting his spirit be free. That will aid in his healing. So said Aragorn."

Jeriel sighed, not knowing whether or not Legolas was making the right decision. He knew that the peacefulness of the forest had a healing affect on anything that entered within it bounds, but his creature, it cried out in pain at anyone’s touch. And he couldn’t shake the sense of foreboding that was shadowing his mind and heart. Something was going to happen. His instincts had never been wrong before. Now, all he had to do was convince Legolas Elirium of this.

Nearly half an hour had passed when Legolas finally decided that Smeagol had been gone for too long. He looked up, searching the boughs of the tree, and could see nothing, save the shifting shadows of the leaves, and a few birds. There was no sign of Smeagol. Legolas stood out from the tree, looking suddenly concerned.

"Jeriel, I do not see the prisoner." He said, sounding belatedly worried.

"Now your concerns are piqued, Elirium?" He asked sarcastically, treating Legolas every bit like the ignorant little boy that he was. "He is gone, Legolas, and on your head, be it. You are no longer a boy."

"There will be time for such discussions later." Legolas snapped his voice suddenly becoming more commanding, and also sounding unaccustomed to being so. "First, we must relocate the prisoner." He called over two of the guards. "Search the surrounding trees," he commanded them. "He could not have gotten far."

The men had started to their task when Legolas froze. The wind and just changed direction, and he had caught on the breeze the scent of something he had hoped wouldn’t have been a factor this day. He looked over to Jeriel, who appeared as though his mind was traveling down the same avenue. Legolas took hold of his bow and knocked and arrow, preparing for the now eminent attack, and nodded to Jeriel to take over command. Jeriel nodded, and began to whisper orders to the men to prepare for battle.

As he returned to his place at Legolas’ side, the Elirium looked concerned. "Tell me, Jeriel," he whispered, not wanting to be heard by the guards, or by their soon-to-be attackers. "What do the Orcs want with us this day? We have let them be for many a month now."

"Yes, Highness. Their presence unnerves me as well." Jeriel looked confused as he gripped the hilt of his long Elven blade. "What could they possibly…"

His question was cut short by a shout from one of the guards as the Orcs made their presence known. They burst through the tree line with the force of a stampede, but Legolas noticed as he fired shot after shot into their ranks, they were not many. Only fifteen at the most. This was uncommon for a raiding party, and worried Legolas to no end. What if they are not a raiding party, Legolas, he asked himself. No time to worry of that now!

The Orcs were pressing the elves hard, for the elves were out-numbered. But, strangely enough, they did not attack long. They were as a tornado. They struck fast a furious, then retreated with the same speed with which they had appeared.

Legolas watched them leave, and when Jeriel asked to pursue them, Legolas denied him.

Jeriel inquired. "Highness, why have we let them go?"

Legolas sighed. "Because they were not here to do us harm, Jeriel. They seemed to have some sort of purpose."

"Well, Elirium. Now is not the time to discuss such matters." Jeriel sighed and sheathed his sword. "Now, Highness, we must return and report the loss of the prisoner to your father."