Aeonian [Legolas]

29

PART THREE

They followed the Orcs North, reaching the bounds of Esgaroth they trailed at a distance, permanent twin frowns etched onto the pair's faces as they watched, slowing when they saw something dark and foreboding in the distance. A Warg pack.

"Did you see that? The marks they bore?" Legolas asked as they came back, forgoing their efforts once they knew following any farther would be futile.

"The mark of Gundabad." Viridis nodded, mind distant as his thoughts raced. "An Orc stronghold on the far North of the Misty Mountains. They've been dormant for years." He added worriedly. With the dragon in the sky and the shouts of fearful townspeople drawing nearer as they reached Lake-town once more, it was impossible to be calm.

"We've forced their hand." Legolas said regrettably. "They will be gathering troops, readying their weapons."

A flash of heat drifted across the water separating the town from the lonely mountain. It was so hot Viridis felt the gust of wind move the hair that rested atop his shoulders. It blew backward and Viridis squinted, spotting a hulking figure with massive wings spread across the night sky.

"That is hardly our concern now." He said. "Come on. There is one man that can end this and he is currently behind bars."

Viridis pushed off into a sprint, pushing the extent of his newfound strength as far as it could go. It was easy to fall back into a rhythm with Legolas, second nature even as they flew through the bounds of Lake-town, avoiding the stampede of citizens in their attempt to flee anywhere and everywhere.

They found Bard in the town's prison, locked behind bars rusted with age but still holding strong against the world's might. Bain was already there, pulling at what Viridis assumed was a weak spot near the bottom corner.

"Bard." Viridis said in greeting, hurriedly storing his blades and ushering Bain off to the side. He barely gave anyone the chance to speak before he was clasping his hands against the cool iron of the bars and pulling. A muted form of a war cry tumbled past his lips as he grit his teeth and heaved, pushing through the blinding hot protest his shoulder warned him with. It felt like flesh being peeled from his body and taking every bone with it but Viridis ignored it and continued his efforts.

The bars tumbled down to the ashen floor with a clang and then he was standing to his full height, pressing his lips as his gaze landed on the two Men and Legolas who were looking at him like he had just delivered a miracle.

Viridis wet his lips with a shaky swipe of his tongue, brows drawing together when no one moved. "Come on." He urged, casting aside the rest of the bars so there was a hole big enough for Bard to fit through. "Do you have the Black Arrow?" He asked, turning to the son who nodded vehemently and scrambled away, grabbing at something lodged in one of the darker corners before drawing it out and holding it to his father.

An explosion sounded just outside and the small window lit alight. Vibrations rumbled through the ground and Bain nearly lost his footing as he cried out in time with the people outside who suffered the greater force of the impact.

Bard accepted the Balck Arrow with a grave expression and turned to the two Elves. "Can you provide protection?" He asked.

Viridis nodded without missing a beat. "It's a clear line from here to the Windlance. Much of the town is either destroyed or on fire. We'll have to be quick." He untucked the Mori Twins from their holsters and prayed he wouldn't need to use them. Looking between father and son, he noted their resolute determination and that was all he needed. He jutted his head toward the door that would carry them to the outside. "Come on." He said and then he was following Legolas outside and into the chaos of the living and the dead.