Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR or any of the characters. No profit is made from these stories, they are merely for the enjoyment of myself and anyone who cares to read them.

A Walk Out Of Reach

Chapter One


That is what he was... at this very moment. Swiveling his head he looked around. Surely no comfort could be found on any side of him for he was as trapped as Aragorn was the last hope of men.

The ranger would indeed worry when he would not show at the arranged meeting place. He fervently hoped his beloved horse, Nimrothuniel would safely find him.

At his father and Lord Elrond's request Legolas and Aragorn were scouting the forest south of Mirkwood near the Gladden Fields. Reports of orcs wandering across this part of the forest in growing numbers and darkness spreading had reached the ears of the elves. Neither Aragorn nor Legolas could have known their decision to separate would result in the peril that had found Legolas.

Sure enough, as the shadows were lengthening, Legolas had found a large band of orcs setting up camp under the trees. Slowly he crept forward until he could hear their dark speech clearly. He hoped to hear mention of their purpose for being so near the Anduin River.

How Legolas allowed himself to be so distracted he did not hear approaching danger he knew not, but a second band of orcs joining the first caught him unaware. They came up right behind the elven warrior and cried in surprise when they saw him. Their surprise soon turned to anticipation. They would have fun torturing an elf! They moved quickly and surrounded him before he could act.

Legoals heard the whiz of the arrow before he saw it. He threw himself sideways to avoid it but a sharp pain at his side signaled the futility of the move. With a cry he grabbed the shaft and yanked it out then tossed it aside. A hiss of pain escaped his lips at the action. Orcs had a tendency to poison the tips of their arrows but Legolas could not see to his wound now even though he could feel the dark poison beginning to course through his veins. Pushing the pain aside for the moment he brought his bow up let an arrow fly.

The night sang out with the strumming of the woodland elf's bow as he quickly dropped several orcs with hands faster than a mortal could see. However the poison flowing through his body was starting to blur his vision and his last shot went wide.

Hearing a noise behind him Legolas dropped his bow and crouched low. At the same time he twisted to the right and reached over his shoulder grabbing the dirty tunic of an orc sneaking up on him. Shifting his weight slightly he threw the foul creature forward, slamming it's body into it's two surprised companions. All three crashed to the ground. The warrior righted himself and pulled out his twin blades holding each in front of him.

A sword whizzed by his ear and Legolas rolled to the side barely avoiding it's killing blow. He swept his leg out and knocked the orc brandishing the weapon off it's feet, then thrust his elven blade deep into it's throat.

Legolas stood up, chest heaving and blades ready. The orcs were more wary of him now. Perhaps, he would not be as easy to capture as they first thought. He could feel their hatred for him increasing at their inability to capture him and their movements betrayed their intent. No longer did they wish to capture him alive, they were going to kill him. The orcs circled him slowly, waiting for the weakness in his defenses that would come as their black poison continued to work it's way through his body.

Legolas berated himself under his breath for the position he found himself in. Rarely had he been so careless but that carelessness had cost him dearly. His peril was deadly now. The warrior shook his head trying to clear the fog creeping into the corners of his vision. He glanced down grimacing at the pain and blood that steadily flowed from his wound.

With effort he turned his thoughts outward and tried to focus on the task at hand. More orcs had surrounded him and they were pressing in, too numerous to count. Worse yet, he could hear more approaching, their shouts and footsteps drumming loudly in his ears. Knowing their number would soon overwhelm him he searched for an escape before the foul creatures could lay their hands on him. Normally not in his nature to run from battle he now had no other choice. His was rapidly tiring and the number of orcs was too great for him to fight.

He pushed aside his pride and eyed the branch of a large pine looming over him. In the flash of an eye, he stowed his knives and secured his bow. Bending his knees Legolas sprung up reaching for it's lowest limb. The pain in his side impeded his jump and his momentum was not enough to reach the branch. The tree, sensing his weakness, bent it's branches low to aid him. His fingers wrapped around the branch and he swung himself up into the boughs. Giving a sigh of relief, he continued to climb leaving the orcs cursing him on the forest floor in their black speech as they lost sight of him in the dark canopy.

Legolas worked his way through the trees quickly. His steps usually light and sure were becoming heavy as the poison worked it's evil. He found himself having to cling tightly to each branch as he pulled himself along to avoid falling. Weaving his way through the branches he continued until he could no longer hear the sounds of his pursuers.

Legolas stopped for a moment to catch his breath listening intently. The only sound he could hear now was his ragged breathing. The pain in his side was a nuisance. It was becoming greater with each passing moment and every breath was more painful than the last.

Glancing around at his surroundings he seated himself amongst the tree branches. Silently he tore a strip of cloth from his cloak and pressed it over his injury to staunch the bleeding. His eyes widened as the blood quickly soaked the material and spilled over his fingers. He gave a small cry of dismay. His tunic was already soaked with blood and his leggings were slowing turning crimson as well.

Wearily the elf leaned sideways resting his cheek against the trunk of the tree while continuing to hold the cloth over his wound. He closed his eyes tightly and swallowed hard in an effort to keep the dizziness threatening to swallow him at bay.

For an elf, the trees were a place of comfort and safety. Legolas loved their high branches and could flit from branch to branch with ease. But in his weakened state he was fearful to continue. The pain in his side was making his steps unsure and the poison was sending shadows into his vision. He could ill afford a misstep. Making a decision he eyed the ground warily.

Carefully he worked his way down the tree until he was but a few feet from the ground. He eyed the distance with worry. Normally the distance would not bother him but his body was weak from poison. With a great deal of reluctance he lowered himself down until his feet his feet dangled above the ground.

With a gulp, he let go of the branch and landed on the ground with a soft thump. The landing forced the air from his lungs and a stab of pain shot up his spine and down each arm. Black spots danced before his eyes and waves of nausea washed over him causing beads of sweat to crease his furrowed brow. A long moment passed before he was able to gain his equilibrium. He found himself unable to stand straight and resorted to a slightly slumped over position as he continued his trek.

The prince could hear the trees whispering to each other. Their concern over his welfare was growing each time he stopped to hold onto their trunks for balance. His features set in grim determination Legolas pushed away from the tree he was leaning on and concentrated on placing one foot in front of the other. He hoped he could find Aragorn before his fate fell into evil hands.