Chapter Thirty-Three

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Legolas' body flew several feet across the battlefield, bouncing and tumbling from the incredible force of a blow dealt by Sauron's mace. The weapon was a heavy metal head fixed to a long metal shaft. The mace was imbued with an unholy power forged in Utumno Angband by Morgoth, Sauron's Master.

In the first age, Morgoth carried a similar weapon into battle against Fingolfin the elf. Every blow of the hammer brought down a lightning strike and left a smoldering crater in its wake. Likewise, his disciple, Sauron's strikes left a similarly powerful effect albeit without the lightning.

Sauron joined the battle with a singular intent of selecting Legolas as his prey. He cut through his enemies as well as his allies in order to vanquish his foe. When his first few attempts to kill him failed, Sauron began a rampage. Swinging wildly not caring who was caught in the path of his attack.

Legolas' body lay limp and shattered on the cold ground. He ached from stem to stern. A sense of urgency gripped him as he watched Sauron stomp towards him. Powerless to stop him Sauron seized him by the throat. 

Legolas willed his body to fight, to resist, but to no avail. His arms flailed about aimlessly in attempt to fight Sauron off but the initial blast with the war mace sent a shock to his system was beyond reckoning. He resigned himself to his fate, taking solace in the fact that his wife and child were safe, when he saw a Morgul blade raised to his chest.

A particularly heinous weapon. The purpose of the Morgul Blade was to break off in the wound, leaving a shard in the victim's body. The remaining blade would turn to dust. While the shard worked its way through the body to the heart. If the shard stays in the victim for too long, the victim becomes a wraith. Morgoth had not only planned to kill him but turn him and make him a slave of darkness.

In a hurry to complete the deed Sauron struck, thrusting the dagger at Legolas' heart. Just as the blade threatened to pierce his skin, Sauron's grip around his neck abruptly loosened. Legolas fell with a thud, on his side, gasping for air. If the blade hadn't done him in, strangulation surely would have.

He looked up and his eyes beheld her, the Maiden of Fire. Her hair was as pale as moonlight. The heat of her power burned most of her clothing away leaving her in a thin white shift. Power poured from her; she shone like a blue star. She was in midflight. She contorted into a corkscrew movement, just as her foot made contact with Sauron's jaw. The force of the impact sent him careening into nearby trees, screeching to a halt.

Her luminous eyes locked on Legolas breifly before turning to their aggressors. With her power laid bare, her mind's connection with his was strong. She asked if he was alright. She quickly sidestepped any disgruntlement about her joining the battle. She let him know in no uncertain terms that she'd never leave his side. She had just as much right as the others to fight if not more and that she would not live without him.

The Orcs took advantage of her brief distraction and came bearing downing on them. Willow's high pitched scream filled the air as her power reached its peak.  Willow scorched the night sky turning it bright as day. What sounded like thunder rolled overhead, her power was visible to the naked eye as crackles of lightning. She raised both her hands gathering her strength before drawing them down, bringing with it the strikes of over a thousand bolts of lightning right through the hearts of her enemies, killing them all at once. Thousands fell dead at her feet in an instant.

She looked like a Goddess. Witnessing this power the charge of the Orcs stopped almost immediately. Willow hovered in the sky like a beacon, daring them to engage her.

Without warning, Sauron's mace came hurtling toward her. She let out a blood curdling scream as she clutched at abdomen. He had hit her so hard it sent her flying back. Legolas leapt to catch her hoping to soften her fall. He craddled her in his arms as they tumbled to the earth. Landing some distance away from her Legolas scrambled towards her, praying that no harm had befallen Willow nor the child.

"Willow, please be alright, please." He begged, wiping away the snow white hair away from her face. She'd been knocked unconscious by the blow. He pressed his ear to her belly and confirmed the rapid fluttering of his daughter's heart. He tried gathering Willow in his arms to bring her back across the barrier before Sauron could reach them. His escape was cut off when Sauron appeared in his path. With another swing of his mace both he and Willow were sent flying again.

He watched helplessly as Sauron picked up Willow's flaccid body and raised a Morgul blade to her throat.

"No!" He screamed. He knew it was useless. Sauron was about his Masters business and would take no heed of him.

Remembering his latent maiar abilities, Legolas looked up at the waning moon. He begged the spirit of Tillion to be with him once more to save the woman they both loved. The Silver bow appeared in his hand, this time without replacing a wooden one. His armor was covered in the same unusual silver that made up the bow. Silver streaks adorn his normally golden hair.

Within seconds he fired several shots that rattled the Dark Lord to his core, burning through his suit of armor, wounding him. He released Willow. His eerie pain filled screeches filling the night air. Legolas found his strength, racing forward to gather in his arms.

Hefting Willow in his arms they raced through the wood. The trees acted as their guards and their guides. Defending his flank and rear, whilst leading the way. Orthanc was in sight. They were very nearly at the city and Willow would be safe.


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