Hi again! I want to give a big thanks to everyone that read and reviewed the last chapter. I thrive on feedback and reviews. I hope this update didn't take too long for most people. We're finally getting to part I've been waiting to write since I first started this whole thing. Hope everyone enjoys.

See you down at the bottom! Hope you brought your spelunking gear! Whoo!

.o.o.o.o

Discalimer: Lord of the Rings and all associated characters are not mine, nor are they being used for profit in the telling of this story. All rights and credit belongs to JRR Tolkien, the literary genius behind this whole thing.

Legolas was deep in dreams. There was no way for him to tell how long it had been since his eyes first slowly drifted half shut and sleep stole over him before his dreamless slumber had slowly shifted into elven dreams.

Colorful and peaceful, the flow of happy memories washed over the elven prince's unconscious, lulling him deeper into the state of rest in which not only his body would finally receive the rest he so desperately needed, but also his mind. Surrendering himself to the soothing flow of images and emotions they inspired, Legolas drifted along the gentle current of his own memories.

Visions of Eryn Lasgalen's endless green forests slowly drifted past his mind's eye, soothing his troubled spirit with images of home. He could almost feel the golden sunlight filtering down through the leaves and warming his skin, so real and vivid his dream was. Off in the distance he thought he could hear the gentle babble of a nearby brook he and his childhood friends used to play at as young elflings.

Surrendering himself to the flow of memories, Legolas let his mind wander down the familiar path of his forest home.

There was the giant old oak tree just as he remembered it at the end of the path right before the bridge that led into the great entrance hall of his father's underground palace. And there was the grassy glade he and his family used to go on picnic outings to whenever constraints of office did not keep his father from spending some well deserved time with his wife and children. If he listened hard enough he could even hear the sound of soft, musical laughter coming from somewhere up the path, welcoming him home.

Legolas looked around himself slowly, absorbing in all the peace and beauty of his fabricated dream world. Here in his memories of Eryn Lasgalen it was familiar and safe, a place he knew he could retreat to whenever he felt lonely or frightened or in need of comfort. This was his home and why he chose it as at his place of refuge whenever he walked in elven dreamscapes.

Following the familiar dirt path that led away from the palace deeper into the surrounding woods, Legolas gazed at the beauty around him. The images of the dream-forest through which he now walked did not belong to memories of the dark, dangerous woods once known as Mirkwood, but to those of what his homeland had been restored to since the end of the War of the Ring and the lifting of darkness from over the northern realm. This Greenwood, which his elven dreams now embodied, was a bright and happy place. A place free of shadows or fear.

Legolas lazily strolled down the sun dappled path, enjoying the simple, carefree joy he was able to derive from such a simple thing. But as he continued down the familiar sylvan trail, his tranquility was suddenly broken by the faint, almost inaudible sound of what sounded like murmured voices somewhere in the distance. Unsure of exactly what it was he was hearing or where it was coming from, Legolas abruptly stopped in the middle of the trail, stretching out his elven sense of hearing to all sides, trying to discern what it was that was making the strange noise. As he stood there straining his ears to listen, the noise began to slowly build in volume and clarity and seem to move closer to him though he still could not see from where it was coming from. And then he suddenly knew what the sound was.

It was the sound of screams.

Like a storm of a thousand disembodied souls wailing in terror or pain, the screams continued to steadily build in volume until they were almost deafening to Legolas' sensitive ears. Covering his ears, the elven prince frantically looked around as if searching for the ones that cried out in such unending torment so that he might find a way of silencing them, or if for some route of escape.

His head spinning from the deafening roar of a thousand unseen, tormented souls, Legolas reached out to steady himself against the trunk of one of the giant trees growing along the side of the path. But as his hand came in contact with the rough bark, the tree withered away under his touch as if touched by the invisible finger of Death, its leaves shriveling away on its branches to black, paper-like husks.

Retching his hand back in horror, the elven prince looked around him to see all the other trees of the surrounding forest suddenly darken and wither away before his very eyes. Like an endless sea of withered black skeletons, the trees of Legolas' beloved Greenwood stretched out all around him for as far as the eyes could see, their trunks warped and singed black as if caught in some terrible wildfire. The sun had since disappeared from sight behind a thick blanket of fetid looking storm clouds, casting the land below into a dark, sickly grey-green light.

An inarticulate exclamation of horror escaped Legolas' lips as he stared at the sudden devastation wrought on his beloved forest and home. "No!" he cried, gazing around him at the dead, wasted remains of his once beautiful trees.

No! This wasn't right! This wasn't suppose to be happening!

Unlike mortals who had no control over their dreams, Elves were blessed with the ability to control the course of their dreams and walk through their memories at will.

And this horrible scene of devastation and death was not of Legolas' doing.

The screams slicing the air suddenly seemed to take on an even higher pitch, forcing Legolas to clamp his hands down tight over his ears for fear of becoming deaf. He looked around frightenedly. What was going on? Why was this happening?

But before he figure out what was going on, the scene suddenly began to shift, the surrounding forest of dead, withered trees beginning to blur and fade around the edges like a watercolor painting left out in the rain. Overwhelmed and frightened, the elven prince desperately shut his eyes, praying that when he next opened them he would find himself awake and free of this terrifying nightmare.

But the screams did not stop and only continued to grow in volume and slice through his ears like an invisible blade of pain. Collapsing to his knees, the elven prince desperately clutched the sides of his head, trying to block out the unending screams that rent the air so horribly.

Then suddenly, just when he thought he could take no more, the voices changed and the screams became like that of the deafening roar of battle: the sound of metal crashing against metal, shouts and cries, and the gurgled, inarticulate screams of dying men all around him.

Legolas' eyes flew open as the stench of fire, blood, and death suddenly filled his nose and looked around in horror at the scene he now beheld.

For miles all around him fought an unnumerable host of armored Men and Elves against an army of foul beasts and monsters that seemed to spill out in unending waves on them from a huge, monstrous black fortress in the distance. Blood red was the sky above, the air ashy and foul. The stench of sulphur and smoke hung heavy in the air, choking Legolas' lungs and almost making him want to retch in revulsion. Bodies lay scattered across the ground in bloody piles, belonging to both Men, Elves, and monsters. There wasn't a place Legolas looked where blood and death did not meet his eyes.

Looking around in horror, the elven prince felt sickened by the sight of devastation and death that surrounded him. He had seen and been in many battle during his life, but none as terrible as this.

Men and Elves were being cut down like blades of grass under the farmer's scythe by the horrible creatures they battled. Though they fought valiantly, the creatures seemed to literally cut through their ranks like knives through butter. For every one monster killed, it seemed as though five other Men or Elves also fell.

Legolas could tell they were losing... Every time one monster was slain, three more would immediately surge forward to take its place. And no matter how hard the host of Men and Elves fought, the fell creatures just kept coming at them in unending droves from the monstrous black fortress in the distance.

Some small part of Legolas wanted to take up a blade and help these Men and Elves defeat these vile monsters, but more than anything else, he just wanted to escape. This horrible nightmare of blood and death was not of his making and he wanted out.

Spinning around, Legolas desperately searched for some means of escape. But as the elven prince scanned the endless sea of bodies fighting all around him, he suddenly felt the foul, ashy air grow icy and cold, as if some dark presence had suddenly sucked it of all its warmth. Looking back over his shoulder, the elven prince gasped as he found himself suddenly staring up at a tall, dark figure standing only several paces away from him. Dressed in monstrous black armor, the being seemed to literally loom over Legolas like a towering black mountain, the top of its wicked looking helm standing at least twenty feet above the ground.

Unaware of his own actions, the startled elf took several unconscious steps backwards away from the figure. But as Legolas scrambled backwards trying to gain more distance between himself and this monstrous black warrior, his foot suddenly caught against the carcass of some slain beast he had not noticed laying there behind him on the ground, and tumbled backwards onto his tailbone.

Crying out as he hit the ground, Legolas could only stare up in terror as the black figure slowly came to stand over him, brandishing a long, wicked looking sword as it did so.

Frozen in fear, Legolas was only dimly aware of the host of Men and Elves surrounding him abandon their fight with the hideous black creatures they fought and back away in fear from the monstrous black warrior, all muttering the same fearful name: Morgoth...

Morgoth... The Black Enemy... The second name of the Dark Vala, Melkor...

.o.o.o.o.o

Gimli was the first to hear the small moans of distress come from the sleeping elven prince laying half a dozen paces away from him where he still sat smoking his pipe near the fire. Not sure if he was hearing things, the dwarf paused and tuned all his senses onto catching another confirmation of what he thought he just heard. Another distressed moan rent the air and Gimli was instantly up from his place and at the elf's side within a mere matter of seconds.

Legolas lay on his back, shifting restlessly under his blanket as if seized by some terrible fever or haunted by some disturbing dream. As Gimli neared and dropped down to one knee beside his friend, he saw that the elf's eyes indeed rested half-open and glazed with elven sleep, confirming his last suspicion.

"Elf? Elf, what's wrong? Wake up," he whispered, trying to keep his voice low enough so as not to wake the rest of the sleeping camp but loud enough to break his clearly distraught friend out of whatever dream it was that was causing him so much distress.

Legolas only tossed his head back against the rolled up blanket beneath his head and uttered another low, echoing moan.

"Legolas. Legolas, come on, lad, wake up," Gimli coaxed, beginning to gently shake the elven prince's shoulder. But Legolas did not respond and only weakly writhed under his blanket as if he were trying to run away from something in his dream. "Legolas, come on. Wake up!" he whispered a bit more harshly, desperate to wake his friend before others were alerted to his moans. But the elven prince still would not wake or respond to his calls.

"Gimli, what's wrong?" a familiar voice rang out, making Gimli look up over his shoulder and see Aragorn quickly striding towards them through the sleeping camp, worry clearly written on his scruffy face.

"I don't know. I was just sitting there smoking when I heard the elf suddenly start moaning and thrashing around in his sleep. I can't wake him up."

Aragorn swiftly knelt next to Legolas' bedroll across from Gimli. "Legolas? Legolas, my friend, awaken!" he called into the elf's ear, trying his own luck at rousing the unconscious prince. But to no avail. Legolas refused to heed his worried calls just as he did Gimli's.

"Aragorn, what's wrong with him? Why won't he wake up?" the dwarf demanded, beginning to get worried. He had never known Legolas to have nightmares or fail to wake from his slumber when he was directly called to.

"I don't know," Aragorn muttered before once more turning to his sleeping friend and calling to him in growing desperation and distress, "Legolas! Legolas, wake up!" He reached down and sharply rattled the elven prince's shoulders. "Legolas! Awaken!"

But still nothing. Legolas only restlessly tossed his head back against the ground and gave another echoing moan of distress.

"What is wrong? What is all this noise?" a sudden voice demanded. Aragorn and Gimli both looked up to see Elendwë suddenly materialize out of the shadows behind them and quickly make his way over towards them, his long grey cloak skirting just above the ground as he moved, making it seem as though he were more floating on air than actually walking. His long dark hair shined brightly in the silvery moonlight overhead and lit his exotic elven features in an eery, ethereal glow.

"Legolas seems to be having some sort of nightmare and he won't wake up," Aragorn explained as he shifted a bit to the side to make room for the dark-haired elf as he too kneeled down next to Legolas' side.

"We must wake him. My men have sensed the Brotherhood somewhere close nearby," Elendwë said urgently as he leaned down over the sleeping elf and gazed into Legolas' empty, sleep-glazed eyes, "They will try and attack us if he so unresponsive and unable to protect himself. We must wake him."

Not wasting any time, Aragorn and Gimli both made as if to reach down to try and shake Legolas' awake again, spurred on by this new threat of safety to their elven friend, but before they could, the blonde archer suddenly gave a frightened cry in his sleep and violently contorted beneath his blanket as if trying to run from something. His bright blue eyes stared up at the starry sky above wide and fearful but empty of any actual awareness.

"Legolas!" Aragorn cried, quickly drawing his friend into his arms to try and calm him, but the elven prince would have none of it and unconsciously began to struggle against the man, wretching himself back out of Aragorn's grasp.

"What is wrong with him?!" Gimli demanded, his deep baritone voice ringing out loudly through the calm, quiet night. By now, most of the other men in camp had been woken by Legolas' cries and stood watching from a distance, unsure of what to do or what was ailing the king's elven friend.

"Some foul dream must have taken him," Elendwë said, resting one hand across Legolas' forehead as if feeling for a fever that was not there. "Probably the work of some dark magic of the Brotherhood's," he then venomously spat with unconcealed contempt, "They will do anything to try and take Fëaglin from us... Quickly. We must wake him. I do not know what devious thing they have in mind for doing such a thing, but it cannot be good."

But before any of them could do anything more in trying to rouse the sleeping prince, a sudden high-pitched, piercing screech unlike anything Aragorn or Gimli had ever heard before rent the air. Echoing out over the sleeping land, the cry sounded like that of an animal, but more unnatural and frightening than any known creature in Middle-earth; like a cross between a Nazgul's cry and a dragon's screech. The sound seemed to instill the very sense of fear into all that heard it.

"What was that?" Gimli whispered, looking around wildly, unable to tell from which direction the unholy sound had originated from.

But just then, as if in answer to the dwarf's question, there came a frightened, gurgled scream from the far side of camp where one of the White Guards standing watch there just under the boughs of the surrounding trees suddenly collapsed forward onto the ground in a limp, dead mass, blood spraying outwards from his body in a fine red mist as he fell.

At this, those guards not already standing watch around the perimeter of camp were instantly up on their feet and brandishing their swords in the direction of their fallen comrade. A wall of impenetrable shadows stood behind the bloody corpse of the fallen guard, obscuring any sign of the one that had so suddenly and brutally struck him down. For several long moments of tense, unbroken silence, those in the small clearing stood frozen in almost painful suspense, waiting to see what danger would emerge from the darkness.

A low, almost reptilian hiss vibrated out from of the shadows. And then, as if the shadows themselves had suddenly come to life, an oily black form slowly separated itself from the darkness and stepped out into the pale, silvery-blue glow of the moon. Those standing there in the clearing stood almost paralyzed with fear, unable to comprehend the frightening creature that now stood before them.

Long limbed and gangly, the creature stood hunched over on all fours. Its head was long and narrow and tapered down to a beak like snout from which protruded a yawning maw of needle like fangs as it bared its teeth and gave a low, menacing hiss at the startled group of men. Silver moonlight played across the creature's oily black skin, making it look as if it were made of liquid shadows. A long, scorpion-like tipped tail lashed the air behind it, swaying dangerously from side to side over its back. Razor sharp talons the size of hunting knives dug into the grassy ground beneath it, its front two sets still stained red and dripping gore from the disemboweled guard laying dead at its feet.

The creature hissed again, bobbing its head from side to side and its needle like teeth dripping thick globs of drool down onto the ground.

"Deathscrys!" Elendwë cried, leaping to his feet and brandishing his sword from under his long sweeping cloak, "Monsters of the Dark Lord!"

But just as the elf shouted his warnings, the terrifying beast charged the nearest guard, rearing back onto its legs so that it stood almost like a human being before the man, and slashed at him with its razor sharp talons before anyone there could even realize what was happening. The poor guard, unlucky enough to have been caught in the fell creature's path, fell dead to the ground before he was even able to utter a frightened gasp of surprise, his abdomen now nothing more than a shredded, gapping hole.

Around the darkened camp came a series of unearthly screams, all like the first one they had heard. From somewhere beyond the edge of the clearing, the frightened squeal of horses suddenly rent the air from where the guards had tethered their mounts for the night. They could hear the horses frantically pulling against their reins, desperately trying to break free and escape from whatever unknown danger it was they suddenly smelled in the chilly nighttime air. Several managed to break their restraints and bolt away into the night, but the frightened cries of those horses unable to break free did not last for long and quickly fell away to the piercing, predatorial screams of the monsters attacking their camp. As the gurgled cries of dying horses abruptly fell away, it suddenly seemed as though the entire clearing was being swarmed in on from all sides by creatures of living shadows.

White Guards immediately turned to face the foul creatures invading their camp, but for all the seasoned warriors in Aragorn's company it was like children trying to fight off a horde of experienced Orcs. Right and left men were cut down by the hideous monsters, their death screams ringing out through the air over the shrill, piercing screams of the terrible black creatures. A few were managing to hold their ground against the deadly creatures, but it was apparent they were struggling just to do that.

All around Aragorn and Gimli White Guards strove and fought, locked in deadly battle with the foul monsters. Legolas gave another whimpering cry and tossed his head back against the ground, his eyes distant and wide as he restlessly thrashed under his blanket.

"Aragorn, what do we do?" Gimli cried out over the sound of fighting men and monsters, still kneeling close beside his unconscious friend's head.

"Keep trying to wake him!" Elendwë called back, protectively standing over the thrashing prince near his feet, "He is the one they are after! These creatures have been summoned by the Brotherhood. My men and I will try and protect you, but you must wake him quickly!"

As if hearing their leader's proclamation, four other cloaked elves quickly appeared out of the dark shadows of the surrounding trees and formed a protective circle around the unconscious prince, their swords drawn and ready to face any creature that should try and come near.

Immediately jumping onto their assigned task, Aragorn and Gimli both began frantically shaking their unconscious friend's shoulders and shouting into his ear.

"Legolas! Legolas, you must wake up! Legolas!"

"Come on, you lazy tree-hugging elf, wake up!"

.o.o.o.o.o

Legolas stared up in utter terror at the evil Vala standing over him. As all young elflings did in the way of both history lessons and bedtime stories, he had heard tales of the Dark Lord Melkor. But no story Legolas ever heard could have ever prepared him for the sight of the monstrous black warrior-god now standing before him.

Taller than what Legolas would have ever thought, the dark Vala towered over the elven prince's prone form, his great black armor shining dully in the low fiery light of the reddish sky overhead. An ominous hush abruptly fell over the war-torn battlefield as those fighting all around noticed the dark lord's presence there and stopped to stare, wondering what the his sudden appearance could mean. Even the dark monsters and beasts the host of Men and Elves fought seemed to pause in their fighting to wait and see what their master did.

For a moment, no one moved or seemed to even breathe. Melkor's huge, chain mailed hand slowly gripped the handle of his wicked looking sword as his great helmed head scanned the sea of Men and Elves around him, as if testing its readiness to shed blood. It's leather grip squeaked softly under the dark lord's ministrations, like the last warning sign of calm before the unleashing of a deadly summer storm.

As if taking this as an opportunity or invitation to strike, one man dressed in ancient looking Edainian armor suddenly broke rank from the line of frozen men staring up at the imposing black figure, and rushed the dark lord with a loud, inarticulate battle cry. Sword raised up over his shoulder, ready to inflict retribution and justice on the evil-doing god, the man rushed straight towards Melkor.

Melkor, as if already anticipating such a pitiful attack on his person, effortlessly swung his great black sword back like a club and batted the man aside with it as if he were nothing but a rag doll. The sickening crunch of bone sounded as the man's body flew through the air before finally landing some thirty feet away from where he had originally stood.

This seemed to finally break the rest of those watching out of their shocked trance and back to the present. Almost as one singular organism, the great host of Men and Elves surged forward towards the giant dark lord, revenge for their fallen comrade shining brightly in their eyes. Melkor, however, did not seem intimidated in the least by their superior numbers and began to effortlessly hew them down with his mighty fell sword as they continued to come at him in great waves. The sound of screams and dying men once more filled the air along with the stench of freshly spilt blood.

The battle once more resumed and seemed to take on an almost frenzied pitch. Legolas struggled to his feet, feeling overwhelmed and dazed by all that was going on around him. Why was this happening? Looking around him at the endless scene of death and blood, Legolas felt a terror unlike anything else he had ever felt rise up inside him.

He should not be here. This was not right. He wanted to escape. But everywhere Legolas looked, searching for some escape from the horrible nightmare, he was met with nothing more than the sight of bloody corpses and dying men. Choking back a sob of terror, the elven prince desperately wished it would all end and that he would just wake up to find everything safe and fine.

But it did not, and the battle continued to rage on around him...

.o.o.o.o.o

"Legolas, please! Wake up!" Aragorn desperately cried into the elven prince's ear, his voice cracking in panic. All around them, fell black creatures known as Deathscrys swarmed their camp, attacking any White Guard they met. Right and left, men were being cut down by the foul creatures, seemingly helpless to defend themselves against their razor sharp talons and claws. Only half a dozen or more guards now remained that hadn't yet been killed by the invading Deathscrys. The bodies of their dead comrades lay strewn across the bloody ground. But though those left fought valiantly to keep the foul creatures from reaching their king and his elven friend, it was obvious they were slowly losing and just barely managing to stay alive.

Legolas tossed his head back against his bedroll and uttered another long, low moan of distress, unaware of the desperate battle going on around him. Three of the other elves standing guard around him had already broken rank to stop attacking Deathscrys from reaching the elven prince. Unlike Aragorn's White Guards, Elendw's band of elves seemed to know how to fight against the foul monsters and managed to keep the ones that had broken past the guards at bay several yards away from where Aragorn and Gimli still knelt trying to wake their unconscious friend.

"Legolas! Wake up!" Aragorn once again futility called into his friend's ear who now lay thrashing under his blanket, staring up at the sky with wide, vacant blue eyes. Gimli had since given up trying to shout his friend awake and now knelt close beside Legolas trying to keep the elven prince still in his restless throes. "Legolas! Legolas, awaken! There is danger!" the man desperately shouted, but still nothing seemed to reach the elven prince through the grips of whatever foul dream had taken him.

The horrible screech of Deathscrys filled the air all around them, almost drowning out the sound of battle and dying men. Aragorn glanced up and shared a frightened, helpless look with Gimli as Legolas once more tossed his head back against the ground and issued another piercing cry of terror in his sleep. The elf's body violently contorted to the side and Gimli had to struggle to keep the prince still.

"Aragorn, what do we do?" the dwarf cried, his own helplessness shining clearly in his dark little eyes, "We can't wake him."

"You must keep trying!" Elendwë shouted back at them over the sound of battle from where he still stood protectively close to the elven prince's side, guarding over their huddled group as Aragorn and Gimli continued to try and wake their friend. His ancient grey eyes darted wildly from side to side, constantly scanning the on-going battle around them. His sword remained raised and held in a defensive posture in front of his chest, ready to lash out and strike should some Deathscry manage to break past his men and make an attack on the unconscious prince. "If Fëaglin is captured or killed, then all hope for us is lost!" he cried, "You must wake him!"

At that moment, there came a sudden shout in Elvish over the din of battle. Those huddle close to the elven prince's side all looked up and stared in the direction the shout had been issued. Another shout sounded from out of the surrounding darkness of the clearing and this time there was no mistaking in what language it had been given; ancient Quenyan... Half a second later, five cloaked figures suddenly materialized out of the heavy black shadows of the night and into the clearing, rushing straight for the small group huddled around the unconscious elven prince on the other side of the field.

Elendw's face immediately contorted into an image of pure hatred and contempt as he watched the five cloaked figures race towards him and the huddled group. "The Brotherhood..." the dark haired elf spat, his lips curling up into a fierce sneer as if the words themselves had left a foul taste in his mouth. His sword quickly came up to bare in front of his chest, the edge of its deadly blade shining brightly in the pale blue cast of the moon. "Norenthir enáthare! Mellengel ailén! Prepare for battle! It is the Brotherhood!," Elendwë cried loudly over the cries of Deathscrys and battle, "Fëaglin elin dûr! Leneth el! They have come for Fëaglin! Protect him!"

At this, those other elves battling Deathscrys around the unconscious prince quickly moved to dispatch of the foul creatures they fought against, and turned to face the five cloaked figures rushing towards them. In a terrible clash of blades, the two forces met head on. Swords slashed through the air in silvery white streaks, ringing out loudly as they collided with that of their enemy's.

Aragorn and Gimli looked on in silent, hypnotized wonder at the unworldly battle taking place before their very eyes. They could not help but be reminded of the first battle they had witnessed in the Hall of King's moonlit gardens the night of Legolas' first attempted kidnaping.

Legolas, meanwhile, tossed his head restlessly back against the ground, whimpering in uncalmable distress. His cries had since begun to take on a slightly more distressed and desperate quality to them, as if he was subconsciously begging to be woken and released from whatever horrible, unending nightmare it was that had claimed him.

Elendwë, who had not yet gone to do battle with the attacking band of elves and still stood protectively close to Legolas' side watching the ongoing battle warily, looked back over his shoulder at the thrashing prince and swiftly knelt down next to the distressed elf beside Aragorn. "This should not be happening..." he observed quietly under his breath, resting one hand across the unconscious archer's clammy forehead, "He has most definitely been seized by some foul work of magic."

"Is there nothing we can do?" Aragorn implored, hoping against hope that this mysterious elf from across the sea would somehow know a way of breaking his friend out of this unnatural sleep.

"I am sorry. I know no way of freeing him from this enchantment," Elendwë said, staring down into Legolas' wide, fear-glazed eyes with an odd, unreadable look in his own, "This is something he must do on his own..."

.o.o.o.o.o

Legolas watched in silent, helpless horror as the Dark Lord continued to effortlessly slaughter the host of Men and Elves around him. Right and left, men were sent hurtling through the air by Melkor's monstrous sword or cut down where they stood trying to defend their comrades and themselves. None seemed capable of stopping him. As Melkor continued to hew down his enemies with huge, sweeping arches of his blade, it suddenly seemed to Legolas that Melkor was doing less fighting than actual playing. He swore he could almost see the sadistic joy on the Dark Vala's black helmed face as he sent yet another poor, innocent man screaming to his death.

This is not battle... Legolas felt his sickened heart suddenly remark, This is a massacre...

By now almost all those warriors not already engaged in battle against the Dark Lord had begun to retreat and fall back away from the fell god's path. All around Legolas cries of retreat sounded through the hot, stagnant air, echoing out far and wide across the huge, bloodstained battlefield.

A thunderous roar of victorious laughter came from Melkor as he watched those around him quickly scatter and scurry away in fear. Hefting his now blood soaked sword high up into the air, the Dark Lord made a show of taunting the retreating forces, as if daring them to come back and face him again.

But none would dare do so.

Laughing evilly, the fallen god motioned to his army of Orcs and demons around him, signaling for one last march on the already broken and defeated forces of Men and Elves.

Like a black plague of death, Melkor's terrible army of creatures rallied behind him, preparing to once and for all finish off the decimated host of Men and Elves that fought on the side of the Valar.

But as Legolas watched, sickened by the horror of it all and what he was sure to come, he suddenly saw out of the corner of his eye a tall glowing figure step forward from the broken, huddled ranks of Men and Elves. Turning towards the figure, Legolas was immediately dazzled by the blindingly beautiful light that seemed to literally radiate off the heavenly being's form.

Struggling to make out any features of the radiant being's glowing face, Legolas was soon forced to shield his eyes against the being's blinding blue-white light, unable to stand the beauty and brilliance of such pure energy and power.

Frozen in awe, Legolas watched the ethereal being slowly walk straight towards the Dark Lord, striding straight and proud as if not at all frightened by Melkor's towering black form or his hoard of hissing monsters behind him. Like a glowing beacon of light, the figure crossed the bloody, war-torn field, his form radiating a bright, glowing light the likes Legolas had never seen before. It was then that Legolas suddenly had to wonder if this was what looking upon the Two Trees of Valinor was like.

As Legolas watched, the glowing warrior slowly glided past him, only a few paces away from where he stood riveted to the spot. As he passed, Legolas felt the edge of the being's glowing white aura slowly slip over him and encompass him in its light. A warm, comforting feeling instantly washed over the elven prince, soothing his frightened spirit and seeming to instantly banish any sense of fear or doubt from his mind. Legolas felt swept up and comforted by the strange yet somehow familiar presence he sensed hiding somewhere within this blinding white cocoon of light, like he had somehow been healed and made spiritually whole.

The sensation swiftly faded though as the glowing warrior steadily moved on, gliding on past Legolas towards his ultimate goal of the fell Dark Lord standing only several dozen yards away. Legolas immediately felt a strange sense of loss in his heart at the sudden loss of light and warmth. Like a tidal wave, all his previous feelings of fear and dread seemed to instantly come crashing back down on him, almost smothering his crying soul.

Legolas stared after the heavenly being longingly, wanting nothing more than to chase after him and once more feel that all-encompassing sense of peace and wholeness he had felt while in the presence of that silvery white light. But it suddenly felt as though he was frozen in place, not allowed to move or follow the glowing warrior except with the yearning blue gaze of his eyes.

With every purposeful step the brilliant figure took closer to the dark Vala, the evil creatures huddled at Melkor's sides slowly began to cringe back and slink away from the approaching warrior, unable to stand the blinding white quality of his light.

The Dark Lord slowly stepped towards the approaching figure, gripping the handle of his sword menacingly. Legolas could almost feel the dark Vala's malice grow and begin oozing off of him in palpable waves. For surely no one had ever dared stand up to him like this before – so openly and unafraid. Melkor's form suddenly seemed to grow, as if strengthened by the intensity of his wrath and contempt for this glowing warrior that dared stand against him. The ground beneath his feet began to quake and rumble out across the field in waves.

The dark monsters at Melkor's side began to hiss and screech, agitatedly shifting from side to side. Men and Elves fell to their hands and knees in droves, cowering their heads to the ground in fear of the death they were certain was about to come.

But the radiant being still did not seem at all intimidated by the Dark Lord's ostentatious show of power. With almost casual smoothness, the glowing warrior reached down to his side and pulled a long, silvery white sword from its sheath.

A low, murderous rumble echoed out from behind the Dark Lord's evil-looking black helm. Holding his blood soaked blade aloft, Melkor began his advance on the glowing warrior.

But still the being refused to back down or show any sign of fear. He stood straight and tall, his sword held in front of him in a pose of anticipation and readiness.

As Legolas watched the white warrior and Melkor meet in a terrible clash of metal and thunder, the sky above suddenly seemed to dim and turn into unnatural night. Darkness unlike anything Legolas had ever seen before fell as though the entire world had suddenly been cast under a thick black blanket.

Cries of terror immediately rent the air from those Men and Elves on the other side of the field. Legolas looked around in bewilderment at the darkened world around him, but before he could panic or succumb to fear he suddenly saw shining out through the darkness a bright, luminescent source of light. Like a brilliant star fallen from heaven, the tall, radiant form of the glowing warrior seemed to pierce through the surrounding darkness as brightly as a bonfire in the depths of Moria. Warm, silvery light radiated out through the darkness, illuminating an area of several hundred yards in all directions around the ethereal being.

Turning his eyes towards the center of the glowing ball of light radiating off the shining being, Legolas was immediately seized by wonder and awe at the sight he beheld within.

The glowing warrior and Melkor were fighting against each other viciously, the crash of their swords like loud, booming claps of thunder. The air around the two seemed to literally tense and crackle with the charged energy of the two combatants. Sparks flew as metal met metal and thunder sounded, the power of the Dark Lord set against the almost blindingly beautiful light of his glowing opponent.

As Legolas continued to watch in awe struck wonder the titanic clash of powers, he suddenly felt from the center of his body a small tug, as if some tiny thread had been tied to the very core of his being and was gently being pulled. Looking down at his stomach, he indeed saw nothing there. But as he stood there staring at his stomach, he suddenly felt the sensation become stronger and more pronounced. It was like he could actually feel a small portion of his energy slowly being drawn from him. Gasping at the sensation, the elven prince immediately covered his stomach with his hands as if to try and stop the steady flow of energy leaving his body. But as he did so, he suddenly felt the odd pulling sensation on his spirit suddenly redouble and pull him into a strange sense of dizziness and disconnection with the world around him.

Reeling from the sudden assault, Legolas was only vaguely aware of the titanic battle still raging in front of him. He felt as if he was steadily being drained of energy. Sinking to his knees, the elven prince desperately clutched his chest, feeling his strength slowly being leeched away from him in a steady stream.

Weakly looking back up the dueling god and warrior, Legolas suddenly noticed how much brighter the ethereal being seemed to be glowing, as if his power was somehow being fueled by some unknown force as he continued to strive against the Dark Lord's might. It was now almost impossible to look directly at the being's face. It was as though he was made of pure, living energy. Legolas was sure he had never seen anything so beautiful or awesome before in his life.

The pulling sensation continued, but Legolas no longer really noticed. He suddenly felt hypnotized by the great battle going on before him. Like he was somehow being vicariously drawn into it.

And then, with no other warning to the elven prince, he suddenly felt a strange connection form between himself and the silvery-white light of the glowing warrior, as if he could actually feel his energy feeding into the glowing warrior's brilliant white aura of light. A strange but familiar presence like the one he first felt when the luminescent being slowly strode past him on his way to the Dark Lord touched the edge of his senses, filling his mind with a sudden flood of warmth and light.

His first reaction was to recoil away in fear, but as the strange sensation continued to wash over him like the warm, comforting touch of sunlight, he suddenly felt himself drawn closer to the luminescent being's radiant aura of light, as if his spirit was slowly being sucked in and merged with the blinding bright light. But he held no fear of it. Somehow this felt right to him. As if somewhere deep inside he knew this was suppose to happen.

He felt safe and warm and somehow inexplicably... whole...

.o.o.o.o.o

Aragorn had since drawn Anduril from its sheath and now knelt close beside his thrashing friend, watching the ongoing battle around them. Legolas still refused to heed any of their desperate calls and seemed to be becoming even more distressed and agitated with each passing moment. It was clear that if anyone tried to attack him while he still lay there gripped by unnatural dreams he would be helpless to defend himself. Across from Aragorn near Legolas' head, Gimli had also taken up his axe, his dark little eyes constantly scanning the ongoing battle around them, as if waiting to see if anyone would dare try and come near and attack his friend.

Darkly cloaked figures danced and twirled around each other in deadly swordplay only several dozen feet away from where the elven prince lay. The only way to tell the two sides apart was by the Brotherhood's drawn hoods. But even then it was difficult to tell who was who in the pale blue moonlight as the two forces continued their frantic fight.

The screech of Deathscrys filled the air, the last few remaining guards valiantly struggling to keep the foul monsters at bay. The bodies of several Deathscrys lay scattered across the field, slain by both Aragorn's men and the elves of Elendw's party, but far more humans lay dead in bloody heaps on the ground.

Elendwë, still standing close to Legolas' side with his sword held ready by his side, surveyed the ongoing battle between his men and those cloaked figures of the attacking Brotherhood with raging fire in his eyes. "Noth endír mor Arda... Foul spawn of Arda..." he cursed softly under his breath though Aragorn and Gimli had no idea what he said. Looking back over his shoulder at the man and dwarf he called to them over the din of battle, "If one of the Brotherhood somehow manages to get past my men and I, you must protect Fëaglin! They will try and kill him. He is our only hope for victory. If he is somehow captured or killed–"

"We're not going to let that happen," Aragorn quickly interrupted the elf and said with the deepest of convictions in his voice, "Gimli and I will defend Legolas to our deaths if we have to."

Elendwë nodded his head slowly at Aragorn's words and held the man's gaze steadily with his own for a long moment of silence. "That is good to hear you say..." he finally whispered in a soft voice, a strange look shining deep inside his ancient grey eyes.

Aragorn was about to open his mouth and say something else, but never got a chance to as he suddenly noticed that Legolas had stopped thrashing and now lay almost perfectly still beside him. Looking down, Aragorn was startled to find the elf's eyes closed and his breathing coming in shallow, desperate gasps. "Legolas? Legolas, answer me!" he cried, immediately pressing two fingers to the underside of the elf's jaw, fearing something wrong with his friend. The elf's heartbeat fluttered up under his fingertips shallow and fast.

"Aragorn, what's wrong with him?" Gimli demanded, panic lacing his normally deep baritone voice. But the man ignored the dwarf's worried question, too focused on his unconscious friend.

"Legolas? Legolas, you must wake up!" he desperately called into the elven prince's ear, already knowing his cries were probably in vain. "Please, wake up!"

Legolas lay rigid on his back, his head lolled back and chest heaving for breath. But then, just as Gimli and Aragorn were about to once more futilely try shaking him awake, the elven prince suddenly gave a loud, piercing cry, his back arching up off the ground as his eyes shot open and stared up at the sky wide and unseeingly. The elven prince's body violently contracted in on itself as if suddenly seized by some terrible flash of pain before then once more collapsing back down onto his back and violently tossing his head about back and forth across the ground.

But neither Aragorn or Gimli moved to try and restrain their thrashing friend. All ability to move or even think seemed to have all but abandoned them in that instant at the startling sight they now beheld.

For not only was their friend once more seized by whatever unknown affliction it was that kept him from answering their desperate calls, but now his eyes seemed to shine with some strange and unnatural light that seemed to come from the very depths of the elf's soul. Like two points of molten sapphire, Legolas' eyes glowed with a light that reminded Aragorn and Gimli of concentrated starlight. They could no longer see his pupils, only two pools of glowing light.

Twisting his head to the side, Legolas let out another keening wail, his eyes shining out brightly through the dark shadows of the night. But then, Legolas suddenly began to speak. His voice rose up loud and clear, like wind chimes in the breeze over the sound of battle. But the words he spoke were nothing Aragorn or Gimli expected to hear. For the words the elven prince shouted were those of ancient Quenyan...

"Lanlen mir! Nethaür e andúr! Thain daren on dir sorenth!" he cried out loudly, wildly thrashing his head back and forth across the ground as his glowing eyes blankly stared up at the starry sky above, "Garun naursen! Noth mor en..."

Aragorn quickly looked up Elendwë standing over them. "What is he saying?" he asked, unable to understand the strange elvish words coming out of his friend's mouth.

But Elendwë did not answer and only stared down at Legolas with a strange expression on his face neither Aragorn or Gimli could quite place – perhaps surprise? Or was that also a shadow of fear they saw shining deep inside the mysterious elf's eyes?

As they stared in almost speechless wonder the possessed elf toss his head back and shout another string of elven words, they suddenly saw a faint glow of light rise up over Legolas' skin, as if his skin was actually emitting the supernatural light. A beautiful aura of silvery white light quickly encased the elven prince, making him look as though he were some fallen star from heaven or some divine being of Valinor.

"What is that?" Gimli demanded, almost backing away from his friend in fear. Though he knew of Elves and their skin's strange elven trait of softly glowing in the dark – supposedly from the light of their immortal spirit – and had often seen Legolas doing so himself at night, what he saw before him was like nothing he had ever seen before. It was not like Legolas' skin was just reflecting the light of his inner spirit, but as if he was literally possessed by light and radiating it from his body like some kind of mini star.

"That is the glow of Fëaglin's inner power," Elendwë calmly said as he knelt back down beside Legolas' glowing body. Looking up at the two kneeling beside their luminescent friend's head he then asked in an almost sarcastically smug way, "Now do you believe us when we say your friend is the One my men and I search for?"

But Aragorn and Gimli could not find the voice to answer, and only continued to stare down at Legolas' glowing form in unmasked wonder and awe...

.o.o.o.o.o

As Legolas watched, the glowing warrior spun out of the path of the Dak Lord's sword and swiftly dealt a strike of his own before Melkor could recover. Melkor gave a loud, booming roar of anger at this and viciously swept his sword at the shining being. The glowing warrior was batted back several steps, struggling to regain his footing, but quickly recovered and immediately lunged back at the evil Vala.

The battle continued to rage as the two once more met in another great clash of power. Deafening rounds of thunder shook the ground as lightening and energy crackled in the air around the two fighting beings. Legolas felt hypnotized by the battle. He had never seen anything so terrifying or awesome.

The bright aura of light surrounding the glowing warrior had now grown some several hundred feet in diameter around him and the Dark Lord Melkor. The army of demon and orcs and great host of Men and Elves both stood frozen and entranced just on the edge of either side of the great glowing sphere of light, watching the ongoing battle going on inside. Illuminated by the glowing warrior's aura of light, their features shined brightly in the shadowy world of unnatural darkness around them.

It was then that Legolas suddenly noticed a lone figure standing out from the hoard of other demons and monsters on Melkor's side of the battlefield. The being did not look like one would expect to find in the service of the Dark Lord. It was extremely tall and slender like an elf, but dressed in shining black armor like the rest of Melkor's army. Long dark hair flowed down the figure's back to the top of its waist where a great long sword hung down by its side. Though Legolas tried to see, its face remained hidden behind a curtain of impenetrable shadows cast by the glowing warrior's aura of light.

The warrior seemed somehow eerily familiar to the elven prince, as though he should know who it was there he saw. But try as Legolas might, he could not place the strangely familiar being.

Another great crash of thunder suddenly sounded, rattling the very air itself with its power. Tearing his eyes away from the unknown figure, Legolas looked back over at the glowing warrior and Melkor. The two stood locked together in a battle of strength, their swords crossed and pushing against the other as the two combatants steadily stared into each other's eyes, their arms shaking as they pushed back on the other's sword. Sparks of energy crackled off their interlocked blades, flashing like blue lightening in the glowing aura of blinding white light around them.

Melkor's evil black form towered over the glowing warrior as he struggled to overpower the smaller being. But his opponent seemed too powerful despite his smaller form for Melkor to push back. The Dark Lord gave a great howl of rage as he finally wretched his sword back from the glowing warrior's and raised it up over his shoulders as if ready to deliver the final crushing blow to his opponent's head.

But he never got a chance to.

For as Melkor reared back with his sword held aloft back over his head, a great flash of blinding white light suddenly exploded from the around the glowing warrior's form. Like an exploding sun, the being disappeared from sight behind a blinding wall of white. A great, booming roar of agony and rage erupted from the Dark Lord Melkor as he was swiftly swallowed by the exploding light.

Legolas immediately tried to shield his eyes from the wall of blinding white light that rushed to swallow him in its depths. But as he felt the great aura of light hit him, he felt himself suddenly thrown back and sent reeling through the air. With a great gasp, the elven prince was only aware of the overwhelming crash of energy washing over him and enfolding him within its blinding embrace, and then...

Legolas woke with a start.

Looking around him, the elven prince was confused to find both Aragorn and Gimli kneeling close beside him and staring down at him at him with some strange look of disbelief and awe in their eyes. Elendwë knelt close beside Aragorn with a speculative expression on his face. Struggling to push himself up onto his elbows, the elven prince looked around wildly, disoriented and confused.

"What happened? Where am I?" he cried, his whole body shaking in the aftermath of the strange and frightening dream he just experienced.

"Legolas, calm down," Aragorn said as he helped the now normal looking prince sit up though a hint of unmasked wonder still shined deep inside his pale grey eyes, "You were dreaming and thrashing around in your sleep. We couldn't wake you and–"

"You were glowing," Gimli immediately broke in and supplemented in a slightly shaking voice as he continued to stare at the prince in open disbelief and shock.

"What?" Legolas demanded, still disoriented and confused from his abrupt awakening, "What are you talking–" But he never got any farther than that as a sudden piercing screech shattered the nighttime air and the sound of battle suddenly reached Legolas' ears. Looking around Aragorn and Gimli's bodies blocking his view, Legolas was startled to find the small clearing they had made their camp for the night swarming with darkly cloaked figures and tall, gangly black creatures that seemed made of living shadows cutting down knights of the White Guard right and left all around them.

Elendw's men fought desperately, struggling to drive the hooded figures they fought back from where Legolas still sat surrounded by Aragorn, Elendwë, and Gimli. Unfortunately though, it seemed those of the Brotherhood had something just as important to fight for as Elendw's men did and fought back against Legolas' protectors viciously. The sound of clashing metal rang out loudly through the air over the frightening, unnatural screams of Deathscrys all around them.

Gasping in horror at the sight he saw, Legolas quickly pulled himself to his knees and reached for his long knives laying close beside his bedroll. Struggling to his feet, the elven prince surveyed the surrounding battle. He was not about to just sit there and watch as others fought and died protecting their camp around him.

But as the elven prince stood and took several shaking steps away from where Aragorn and Gimli still sat kneeling on the ground, he suddenly heard a high-pitched, piercing scream rent the air. Turning to his right, Legolas saw the oily black form of a rouge Deathscry slowly separate itself from the surrounding shadows of the night and turn to face him. Thick globs of slimy drool slowly dripped from its needle-like fangs as it bared its teeth at him and gave a low, menacing hiss.

"Legolas, watch out!" he heard Aragorn frantically shout somewhere behind him. But the man's words made little sense to his frozen mind. He felt frozen to the spot by the sight of the evil looking creature. Somehow he couldn't help but feel as if he were once again trapped in some terrible, unending nightmare.

Rearing up onto its back two legs so that it stood almost human, the Deathscry gave another ear splitting screech, its wicked looking tail viciously lashing the air behind it. Then with no more warning to the startled elven prince, charged.

Before the creature even transversed half the distance between itself and the frozen blonde archer, Legolas knew he would not be able to defend himself. The creature moved faster than anything he had ever seen before. Already it was almost on top of him. Like a black streak of liquid shadow it leapt at him with its razor sharp talons outstretched and wicked teeth gnashing rapaciously.

Though he knew it was probably futile to even try, Legolas nevertheless brought his knives up to bear in front of his chest in one last instinctive effort of protecting himself. But before the Deathscry could actually strike, it was suddenly sent reeling back several feet, the long shaft of an elven arrow protruding from its chest. Before Legolas could even understand what was happening, several more arrows were embedded in the fell creature's body.

Whipping around, Legolas was gratefully startled to see Gelion quickly making his way over towards them through the chaotic storm of battle filling the small, moonlit clearing. His bow held poised before his face, the dark haired elf quickly fired off three more arrows in consecutive order into the fell black creature as he continued his steady advance on it and Legolas' position. One arrow barely even left his bow before his hand was automatically reaching back over his shoulder to grab yet another deadly projectile from his quiver. Legolas was certain he had never seen anyone so fast with a bow before. He could barely even see the dark haired elf's hand move before yet another arrow went flying from Gelion's bow into the fell creature's body.

The Deathscry gave off a terrifying howl of rage as yet another arrow pierced its skin and forced it back several more feet from its intended prey. Several dozen arrows now protruded from the beast's oily skinned chest and body, black blood streaming from its many wounds, but still it kept trying to advance on the frozen elven prince.

Gelion shot two more arrows off into the fell creature's chest, finally forcing the Deathscry to the ground, but as he reached back to grab yet another arrow, his questing hand was met with nothing but an empty quiver. Cursing in ancient Quenya at the realization, the mysterious elf quickly threw his bow aside and drew his sword from its sheath. "Fëaglin, prepare yourself!" he cried, now rushing for the elven prince who stood still staring several dozen feet away in shock at the wounded Deathscry.

Legolas finally seemed startled out of his trance at the sudden shout, but already the Deathscry was slowly pulling itself back up onto its feet. Hissing menacingly, the creature made one last vicious lunge at the elven prince. For one seemingly endless moment of time, Legolas was only aware of the frightening black monster coming towards him and the certainty of his own impending death as he watched its razor sharp claws reach out towards him to tear him in two. But just as Legolas could almost feel the air around him stir from the movements of the creature's sweeping talons, he suddenly felt a large, powerful mass slam into him and send him crashing down onto his side.

A long, terrible screech filled the air before a heavy, oppressive silence quickly followed in its wake.

Slowly looking up, Legolas was startled to see the tall, dark haired form of his savior, Elendwë, standing over him with the body of the attacking Deathscry laying dead at his feet. The small clearing now stood empty and still, all signs of attacking monsters or darkly cloaked figures seemingly vanished into thin air. No White Guards remained. The bodies of the slain guards lay scattered and strewn across the clearing in small bloody piles. The only ones to have survived were those Elves of Elendw's company, Legolas, Aragorn, and Gimli.

Retching his sword from the creature's dead body, Elendwë slowly looked down at the elven prince laying sprawled out across the ground at his feet. For several long moments of unbroken silence the two just stared at each other, neither daring to speak or move as if they were somehow seizing each other up in a new light.

There came the sudden hurried sound of feet, and Legolas was finally forced to turn his gaze away from Elendw's piercing grey depths. Aragorn and Gimli quickly ran up to him and knelt beside him, helping him to sit up.

"Legolas! Legolas, are you alright? Are you hurt?" the man cried, automatically scanning his friend's body for any injuries.

"You stupid, stupid elf! What were you thinking?" came the dwarf's worried greeting right behind Aragon's, "You could have gotten yourself killed!"

"I am fine, Aragorn," the elven prince dismissed, though in a slightly shaking voice, as he raised a shaking hand to the side of his face. "Thank you," he then softly added as he looked back up at the mysterious dark haired elf that had saved his life.

Elendwë continued to stare down at Legolas with a deep, unreadable look in his eyes. "This will not be our last encounter with Thalion or the Brotherhood before the end," he said in a low, eerie voice as his men slowly came to stand behind him in a small group, "Nor will it be the last with those foul creatures of the Dark Lord. They are rising up. They can feel their master's power growing stronger every day and are harkening to his call. We are still many miles from Mordor, but now you, your friends, my men and I are all that's left to find our way there and stop the Coming of the End. A new line has been drawn in the sand. And time is now of the essence..."

.o.o.o.o.o

To Be Continued...

.o.o.o.o.o

Did you make it down alright? I know it was kind of a long chapter, but you don't mind, right? At least now you know where I disappeared to for the last couple weeks.

Anyway, please leave a review. Pretty pretty please. I worked extra hard on this chapter and feedback always makes me work faster with another update.

Till next time