The Last Light of the Star

16 - Even the Good Souls are Cursed

When Legolas entered Thranduil's office, it was early morning and the sun had not yet risen.

"You wished to see me?" Legolas questioned.

The King looked up at his son, who was clad in a simple dark green tunic, and nodded. Thranduil then began ruffling through the mess of papers and books upon his desk before he pulled out a scroll. It was kept tightly secure by the Thranduilion seal pressed upon wax and annotated with fancy ink. This lead the Prince to assume that it was indeed important.

The King handed Legolas the scroll. "Pick your four best warriors and make your way to Lothlorien."

Legolas raised his eyebrows. "Ada (father), Lothlorien? Why?"

The King grimaced and took a moment before speaking. "You feel it too—you've seen it. The rise of darkness, the appearance of more spiders in our woods....even orcs. I wish to know if Lady Galadriel has any insight."

Legolas nodded for it was indeed true. In the last year or so, the vile beasts' numbers had grown and they became more bold of intent. The orcs wandered into the woodlands more often and were stumbling into the leagues close to the castle. Hell, they even made it into the palace once. Not to mention the increase in spiders that have nestled into their trees. It was not a good sign indeed.

The Prince pulled his thoughts from concern to focus, for he now had to engross his mind with the tactility of the mission. Legolas needed to get prepared. Therefore, he began making his way to the large wooden door with intention to go to the armory.

"Legolas," The King called out.

The Mirkwood Prince froze, turning his head slightly.

"Put on armor." Thranduil then paused before speaking again with a softer tone, "N- karriol, iôn nin. (Be carful, my son)."

The blonde elf moved to face Thranduil completely, for he was a bit surprised by his father's tender words. It was not often Thranduil was so endearing and gentle. Legolas lightly crossed his arm over his chest and bowed his head—the endearing greeting and farewell for elves. Thranduil did the same in return.

The Elven Prince then made his way to the armory, stopping only in his chambers to dress in his steel protection.

The armory was extensive in size and what it contained. It had one completely open side that lead onto the training fields and the wall directly across was an archway that opened into the stables. The rest of the room was filled with countless racks of weapons—swords, knives, daggers, arrows, and bows—whatever you could wish for, they most likely had. Amongst all the steel chaos, were benches and tables for the warriors to prep and an open path to the stables. It was well organized for the the guards' needs.

Currently, most of the thirteenth sector was already there, preparing for the day's training session; however, that was not going to take place this morning. Legolas, wearing his detailed silver breastplate, pauldrons, and engraved vambraces, pushed through the doors and strutted into the large room. The warriors' curious eyes glanced up at the Prince's attire for they weren't expecting to be on patrol for another two weeks. Clearly, something was up.

"Arryin, Belanor, Rowan, and Beyla," Legolas started sternly. "Prepare you weapons. We leave for Lothlorien at dawn."

The four elves immediately began to load their steel onto their bodies and prepare a bag with essentials.

But Razela had a frustrated frown on her face. "Prince Legolas, am I not joining you? In the past, I have gone on these missions."

Legolas shook his head as he gathered his bow and quiver. "Not this time."