A Prince's Desire

"Yrch!"
Legolas screamed. He could not see the orc but thanks to his keen senses he was
able to discover his hiding place quickly. The orc had never seen such anger
and ran the other way. Legolas hastened his step and jumped the orc causing it
to crash it's skull into a large rock. The filthy skull shattered on impact but
Legolas continued to beat its lifeless body with his fists. The tough and rusty
armor of the conquered orc progressivly tore into the soft snowy skin of the
elven prince. His knees pushed deeply into the orc's back and he tried to shove
them even deeper as he heard its rib bones crunch one by one. Heavy breaths
escaped the bls lis lips as he fought to suppress the deep sob that threatened
to escape.

"Aew
was not be another on the mortician's list!" His entire frame rose with a
deep inhale and suddenly he felt faint. Instead of giving into the darkness
that threatened to conquer his conciousness, he reached for his knives and
looked them over carefully. They were clean and so shiny that he could look
into them and count the hairs on his head.

He
grasped them and held them close to his lips and proceeded to give each a faint
kiss, "These are the last kisses for the beautiful Aew. An elf..."
the first knife plunged into the orc skin and was yanked free.

style='mso-spacerun:yes'> "...who was the epitome of tragedy!"
the second knife followed. After an hour, he had diced the orc. He knew it was
dishonorable, but, in his mind, there was no action more dishonorable than
killing an innocent being.

Upon
surveying the vile peices of a vile creature before him, he finally allowed
elf elf to cry. His tears fell slowly at first but eventually evolved into
torrential sobs of the agony he felt for his fallen friend. The dreary feeling
of slumber that usually follows a bitter cry started to invade his alert mind.
He fell back and landed in a pool of orc blood, not minding the stains that
convered his golden hair.

style='mso-spacerun:yes'> "Orcs! Hear me now! Never attack what is
dear to me again!" he slowly picked himself up and threw a peice of the
corpse into the forrest. He continued to scatter the peices. Blood and other
vile substances covered his fine clothing and caused stains that could never be
removed even under the most powerful waterfall.

style='mso-spacerun:yes'> After a job 'well done,' he slowly sauntered
to Aew's body. He allowed his fingers to trace the fine jaw line and move some
hair from his face.

style='mso-spacerun:yes'> "Serenity takes you now, my friend. After
the carnage which has befallen you whilst in my very own arms, I will not allow
myself to lie in waiting for some other type of savior to protect Mirkwood. I
must act. I have you to offer my thanks because you have inspired me, even when
you now only live in the land of the dead," Legolas gently kissed his
forehead, which was still slightly warm and walked with hope lightening his
step.

+++

"My son?" Thranduil stared at
the lithe and tall body of his prince. He was covered head to toe in blood and
other peices of flesh which were unable to be named. The other elf maidens in
the garden stepped back with each step he took towards them.

style='mso-spacerun:yes'> Aew's father accompanied the king,
"Quickly, get aid! The orcs are near the gardens!"

style='mso-spacerun:yes'> The maids began to run but Legolas held up his
long arm and commanded: "Stop! Do no waste your
steps! I have walked a long way from the battle and the orcs are no where near
us now and no where near whole neither!"

style='mso-spacerun:yes'> "What do you speak of son? Are you hurt?
Blood covers every inch of your form," Thranduil still remained at a safe
distance from his son but tried to come closer to inspect him. He could sense
an anomaly.

style='mso-spacerun:yes'> "The blood that now adorns my body is
mostly of others and not of myself," he started to walk towards Aew's
father with haste and a look a hate in his eye.

style='mso-spacerun:yes'> The old advisor stepped back as he smelled the
scent of his son faintly on the prince's attire, "What have you doith ith
my golden son, you dirty whore?!"

style='mso-spacerun:yes'> Legolas drew closer until the advisor was
forced up against a wall, "I will have you know that your son died in class=em>my arms! And it is his blood that has been spilt by a dirty orc
that is now no more, thanks to me... and it is that spilt blood that you now
see on my tunic. But the blood that seems to drench my entire being is that of
the distasteful and wretched orc that stole your son's life!"

style='mso-spacerun:yes'> The advisor silently spoke a long 'no' and
began to sink to his knees. Legolas merely stared straight ahead unmoving.
Thranduil laid a hand gingerly on his son's sholder. Despite the cold
countenance his son wore, he could feel the movements of his heart as it
threatened to break.

Thranduil
was suddenly filled with fear for his son's life, "My dear Legolas,
please, do not allow your heart to give up."

style='mso-spacerun:yes'> He drew a slow breath and closed his eyes,
"Father, even though his death has threatened to break my heart, it will
be the catalyst to its mending. For my heart has been on the brink of
disinigration for many long days, and now I have found the strength to finally
mend it. I will go to Rivendell, I hold no reservations here in Mirkwood. It is
not only a mission for our country but on my own personal behalf, I will
convince Haldir to come with his men to protect Mirkwood."

style='mso-spacerun:yes'> The prince lowered himself to the old
advisor's level, "Do not worry. No more will any elf as beautiful and
loving as your son be victim to such evil."

style='mso-spacerun:yes'> The advisor looked into the prince's cool blue
eyes with malice, "Do not fool me, you are a whore, Legolas. You shall
always be a whore. You've been a whore in my bed and every other elf in
Mirkwood, save your dishonored father."

style='mso-spacerun:yes'> Thranduil didn't respond and walked back
inside. Legolas turned to leave for the baths. He spent his bath in complete
silence. Later, after packing some of the most beautiful attire Mirkwood had to
offer, he took to his horse and left for Rivendell. No good-byes were
necessary, nor expected.