A map was spread over the breakfast table in Thranduil's chambers. He and some of his most trusted advisors stood over it, trying to plan out what the Orcs had in mind.
      "They have surrounded the Palace, sire." The Elf spoke in common, "But attacked from the North and the East. We suspect that they have traveled from Ered Mithrin, the Grey Mountains and have launched an attack to drive us into the treacherous forests."
      Thranduil closed his eyes, "And how many of our forces are left?"
      "Eighty, ninety perhaps."
      The Elven King slammed his fist upon the table, "That is not enough to hold this realm!"
      "I know, sire. But the rest of our soldiers were sent to other parts of the forest, you yourself..."
      "I know what I ordered!"
      Taking his eyes from the map, the King looked to his young daughter who was currently sitting atop his bed, gazing at the doors of the chamber with neutral eyes.
      Thranduil sighed, "And yet the Orcs still come."
      "I am sorry, sire." One of his advisors replied, "We had not foreseen such a strong army of the foul creatures. If we had, our forces might have be able to..."
      "It would still not be enough!" the king snapped, "Without the Elves we sent out, we are not prepared!"

      A thud was heard , several thuds actually and just as the king was about to see for himself what made the noise, tiny Legolia jumped from the bed.
      "Gwanur!" ~[Brother!]~ she yelled and ran as fast as possible toward the door, tugging it open.
      "Deri, Legolia! Deri!" ~[Stop, Legolia! Stop!]~ Thranduil called to her, chasing after his daughter.
      One of his aids handed him his sword and, after taking it, the King rushed out the door.

      Gimli walked to Aragorn's side, "What will you do now?" He asked.
      Standing, the King of Gondor put his hand to his forehead then brought it down, kissing his fingertips and throwing it to the wind, "Hiro hyn hith, ab wanath, Legolas." ~[May you find peace in death, Legolas.]~ And, with that prayer uttered, he turned to Legede, "U eveditham le meth, u hi. Ned gwennen, Legolas." ~[We will not meet the end, not now. In promise, to Legolas.]~
      Legede smiled, picking up his bow with his good arm, "Telim am maeth, u am gurthu!" ~[We come to fight, not to die!]~ the Elven Captain's voice rang true and every warrior heard.
      Each readied their bows.
      Aragorn withdrew his sword and held it high above his head, "Am Legolas! Am Mirkwood! Am Arda! Telim am maeth!" ~[For Legolas! For Mirkwood! For Arda! We come to fight!]~ and, as the King of Gondor's sword fell, every Elf let their arrow fly.

      Rocks ripped at his cloak, jerkin, and leggings. The Elven Prince could feel himself falling, but he struggled to stay as close to the hill as possible. With a painful thud, he landed on his sister's balcony. And, with an even more painful thud, all seven of the Orcs fell on top of him.

      "Lumbri Yrchs!" ~[Foul Orcs!]~ he yelled at them, using his Elven strength to push them off his back.

      Intense pain shot through Legolas' right leg, having landed heavily on it before falling to his stomach. But he stood none the less, grabbing the daggers at his back and getting into a defensive crouch.
      The Orcs stood as well, making a semi circle around the prince, but he was not about to let them get the better of him in his own home. Swinging in an arch, Legolas brought one of the dagger's into the nearest Orc's stomach, while defending himself with the other.
      One down, six to go, he thought.
      Two Orcs pounced on him simultaneously but the prince had the upper hand and sliced them in half.
      Only four left.

      Suddenly, with a great bang, the door to his sister's room burst open and there, in the doorway, stood the young girl. When she saw what was occurring, she screamed. Blood dripped from Legolas' clothing and his punctured hand but he grabbed the young girl and carried her through the doorway, Orcs trailing right behind. Rushing to the stairwell, Legolas set his sister down.
      "Ioor, Legolia! Ioor I kwed ada!" ~[Run, Legolia! Run and tell father!]~ her brother said, hurrying her down the stairs.
      Without a moment's hesitation, the Elven girl rushed as fast are her small feet could carry her down the steps toward her father's chambers.

      Legolas stood his ground on the stairway, daggers ready to kill the four Orcs that believed him cornered. But he then only saw three and, to his surprise, could not sense nor hear the fourth.
      "Legolas!" Came the shout of his father from downstairs and the Elven Prince risked a glance behind him.

      The fourth Orc had climbed onto the walls and the ceiling and now held Legolas’ little sister at knife point on the last step. Anger and fury welled in the prince's eyes and he momentarily forgot about the Orcs before him.
      Without realizing it, one of the deranged beasts had fitted it's own bow with an arrow that now pointed directly at the Elven Prince. When Legolas turned back to them, his eyes opened in surprise, not believing that an Orc could have gotten the better of him.
      The scream of his sister forced the prince to look back a second time, but it was only in fear that she cried out. Neither Thranduil nor Legolas could do anything for her as long as she remained in the hands of the Orc, unless...

      All hope fading, Legolas jumped into the air and grabbed onto yet another stair railing, high above. The Orc with the bow fired his arrow and it embedded itself deeply into the prince's leg, but he swung himself up never the less. Limping as quickly as he could, he reached the armory once more and found the last quiver in the palace, standing against the wall. Picking it up and fitting one of it's arrows to the Lothlorien bow, Legolas reappeared at the railing and aimed directly at the Orc's head. The same creature who held captive his sister. Pulling back, he fired. The scream of the Orc was enough to shatter glass and his young sister dropped from the filthy creature's hands and into the loving arms of the King. A smile on his face, Legolas turned the bow, now fitted with a second arrow, upon the three other Orcs which had been menacing him moments before.
      But the smile had cost him much.
      The Orc who had shot him pulled back once more and fired a lethal arrow into the prince's shoulder, snapping the collar bone. With a cry, Legolas dropped the bow of Lothlorien to the ground below and fell to his knees, a hand trying to pull the arrow free.
      "Legolas!" He could hear his father call, but his vision was blurred and the prince could not see anything clearly.
      The Orcs took this as a sign and jumped onto the walls, climbing up as they went. Soon, Legolas found himself surrounded by the filthy creatures and he lashed out at them with one of the daggers. It injured one, but only made them angrier. Something hard came down across his forehead and an explosion of pain triggered within the prince’s mind. Legolas gasped but the Orc hit him again and again, over and over in the same place. It was then, that darkness took him and his daggers fell to the ground with a clang.

      Thranduil was nearing the third floor stairs, though he was not as nimble as his young son and could not jump onto the higher floor. As he reached the top of the staircase, he was just in time to see the three Orcs jump out Legolas' own window with the prince's limp body and his son’s discarded knives. Despair seated itself in the king’s heart as he knelt down, taking Legolas’ Lothlorien bow into his own hands.

      Another arrow, then another. Arrows rained down upon the Orcs, depleting their numbers with incredible speed. Aragorn's hopes for victory rose with each wave, but deep inside he was overwhelmed with the loss of his dear friend.

      Suddenly however, the King of Gonder and Gimli could both see what looked like three Orcs running from battle, dragging something or someone behind them.
      Fear took hold of Aragorn and he called out to Legede, hurrying him over, "Man cenich?!" ~[What do you see?!]~ he asked hurriedly.
      Legede shielded his eyes from the light and his face paled, "Kunn Legolas... Hon na kuin, dan hon na negro." ~[Prince Legolas... He is alive, but he is hurt.]~ The Elf Captain looked into Aragorn's eyes, eyes filled with much hope but deep sorrow, for they could do nothing.
      "Dago han!" ~[Kill it!]~ the man called, and every able bodied Elf turned their bows upon the fleeing Orcs, "Yrchs col i kunn!" ~[Orcs carry the prince!]~
      Arrows flew from ready bows, but the Orcs were already far from sight, dragging the unconscious form of the Elf behind them.
      Gimli stood there, speechless, willing that his eyes had not seen the terrible sight of his friend. But then he looked to the man beside him, and felt another wave of grief.
      Once again Aragorn fell to his knees, "I failed him twice..." he whispered, "He was not dead, he did not die without a fight!" Then, with all the anger he could muster, Aragorn cried out in a loud voice, "Edhore nin, Legolas!" ~[Forgive me, Legolas!]~