The Flaming Swordsman of Khazad-Dum by Marindil of Mirkwood

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“Ohhhh yessss!” shouted Elrohir as Glorfindel pleasured him. “For a warrior you sure do know how not to be serious when it comes to love making!”

The blonde – haired elf smiled down at his beautiful brunette and began to go faster.

The Rivendell prince breathed in rhythm to the thrusts he was given. “Yes gods yes!” he screamed.

Glorfindel began to laugh at Elrohir’s reactions, and in the aftermath, he gave notice of them.

“My prince, you make the silliest remarks to my love!” he laughed.

The other elf chuckled. “I suppose it is true.” He admitted.

Suddenly, Haldir appeared in the doorway. “Ah,” he said, a mischievous smile overcoming his face. “I see you two were getting comfortable with each other.”

The other blonde smiled slyly. “Aye we were what do you need?” he asked.

The March warden took a moment to think. “Ah yes,” he remembered. “I was wondering if you two would like to take place in the archery contest tonight.”

The lovers glanced at each other. “I will.” Offered Elrohir.

“Nonsense!” protested Glorfindel. “You always hated the art, I will go!”

Haldir silenced them with his hand. “I said you could both take part.” he said.

The prince nodded. “Alright, then we will be there!” he answered.

The March warden bowed. “Excellent!” he said, turning to leave.

On the way out to the grounds, Elrohir ran into Legolas. “Ah, my Lord.” He said, bowing politely.

The Mirkwood elf smiled. “My Lord.” He replied, returning the favor.

“Could you direct me to the archery room? I must retrieve my bow and quiver.” Elrohir asked.

Legolas smirked. “You live here and haven’t a clue where to find you weapon? That’s funny!”

The Rivendell elf sneered at him. “Could you just please assist me?” he asked once more.

“Yes, yes.” Legolas calmed himself. “Over there across the field.”

Elrohir looked pleased. “Thank you, prince.” He replied.

“Thank you.” Legolas mocked.

Glorfindel had been talking to Haldir, who advised him to hold his bow higher when shooting farther away or over the tops of things.

“So you see, Master Glorfindel, you must see to it that you point your arrow farther up than normal to fire a shot over twenty leagues.” Haldir said.

“Ah yes I see it now. Thank you, Master Haldir.” He replied.

The March warden smiled and returned to the archery fields.

“Alright competitors,” he began. “You may take your places in front of your targets!”

The archers lined up according to which targets they were assigned.

“All observers take seats on the side lines by the Royal House.” Elrond spoke.

“You may fire!” announced Aragorn.

One by one, each elf released an arrow. Haldir was first, then Legolas, then Ellahden, Elrohir, and Glorfindel. Other elves that were there fired theirs at the same time, and soon, they were confused about whose arrow was whose.

“Take them out!” ordered Elrond. “They are messing up the contest!”

The problem competitors were then removed and replaced by more experienced warriors.

Again, arrows were fired, but without any mishaps. Every elf’s arrow landed in their own targets, and did so for the next thirty counts.

It turned out that Haldir had won, with Legolas and Glorfindel in second place, along with Elladhen and Elrohir in third.

There was an after service with food and gifts for the contest winners.

Haldir received the highest from Lord Celeborn. His ancestor’s bow made of pure Gold, Silver, and Mithril.

Next was Legolas, who achieved the title of Mirkwood’s most professional archer from his father.

Glorfindel got Lord Thranduil’s old one thousand year old sword, which had seen service in the original war of the ring. It was wrapped with a strong leather grip, followed by a sleek gold blade and emblem of emerald representing the armor worn by the warriors of the second age.

Elladhen and Elrohir had high crowns forged for them by their father. Each was branded with a Mithril engraving of their name and the year that they were given them, so that they could pass them down to their children.

When all was good and well, the group resided to bed. Aragorn chose to sleep with Legolas in his room that overlooked the water fall. He came to see that the elf he loved was standing on the balcony looking at that very ribbon of water flowing from the mountain.

“It is a beautiful night eh Legolas?” he asked while walking toward him.

The elf turned around quickly, surprised by his intrusion. “Aye it is Aragorn.” He answered.

The ranger stared into the elf’s blue eyes, and then at his face, which glowed in the moonlight. “Wow.” He said.

“What?” asked Legolas.

Aragorn realized he had complimented his love a little too loudly. “Ah! I meant the waterfall, the waterfall is very, very pretty this time of night.” He stuttered.

Legolas nodded slowly, looking at the ranger strangely. “You are a strange man, Aragorn son of Arathorn. Even after the long years I have known you.” He said.

The man smiled at the floor, then walked the small distance to the elf and kissed him.

The Mirkwood wrapped his arms around Aragorn’s neck, pulling him closer.

Aragorn got the message and placed his hand behind Legolas’ neck, making the kiss harder.

Soon, the couple was on the bed, ripping off clothing and kissing each other all over.
Aragorn rubbed the elf’s back, lifting his behind off the mattress and caressing the soft cheeks.

Legolas hummed in enjoyment as the man slid his erection inside him. He felt slight pain, but then pleasure as it slid passed the magic gland.

“Yes gods yes!” he shouted.

Aragorn leaned down and licked the cream skin of the elf’s face, tasting every part of it as quickly as he could.

Legolas rolled the ranger onto his back and began to return the favor.

“Ohhhh…” Aragorn wanted this, and as his lover sped up his pace, he felt the urge to make love to him again.

Both men were breathing excessively when it ended. Hot cream could be found on both of their stomachs, rolling around every time they inhaled.

“Legolas?” the man asked his lover.

“Hmmm?” the elf responded.

“I love you.” He said.

Legolas rolled on his side to face his lover. “Really?” he asked.

The ranger nodded.

“I love you too.” The elf agreed.

The next morning, the two men met up with the rest of the companions they were to travel with.

“The ring bearer is departing us today to embark on a journey to destroy the one ring.” Elrond said.

“May the blessings of elves, men, and free folk go with you.” He finished.

Legolas fare welled Elrond, Glorfindel, and the two twin brothers and ran to follow the rest of the fellowship.

The Pass of Carahdras was real trouble for him, he kept looking back at the hobbits, men, dwarf, and wizard struggling to get through the snow. He felt pity for them.

“I wish I could give you the power to walk on snow.” He told them. That way it wouldn’t take so long to get to Moria.”

Gandalf protested. “All you have to do is be patient, Master elf.”

Legolas just wanted to kill orcs, get to Mordor, and destroy the ring, but he knew he had to trust his friends and help them as much as possible.

“Alright.” He agreed.

Finally, the journey to the Great Walls of Moria came to an end. Gandalf stood before the glowing doors and began to use spells to open them. Unfortunately, none of the ancient tongues worked, and that forced the Fellowship to wait long hours for an answer.

Frodo arose from his seat on a rock and figured the puzzle. “Speak friend, and enter.” He read. “It is a riddle. Gandalf what is the elvish word for friend?” he asked his guide.

The wizard thought a second. “Mellon.” He said.

Suddenly, the giant stone doors swung open invitingly.

Everyone jumped up in relief. There was no more waiting! As they made their way inside, Gandalf lit up his staff to light the way.

“This is the home of my cousin Balin, and people call it a mine, a mine!” Gimil the dwarf told Legolas.

Boromir the Gondorian looked around the musty caves. “This is no mine, it’s a tomb!” he exclaimed.

The fellowship leaped with surprise when the light of the wizard’s staff revealed hundreds of decomposing dwarf corpses.

Legolas went to one, pulling a black arrow from its ribcage. “Goblins?” he asked.

Aragorn, Boromir, Gimli, and the elf all drew their weapons, ready to take down anything that jumped out at them.

All of a sudden, Frodo was yanked into the water by a giant sea monster.

“Frodo!” screamed all the hobbits, running after him to set him free.

The ranger turned and saw the site of horror, and raced to the rescue.

He cut off every tentacle that tangled itself around the helpless Halfling. Boromir caught the small man and told everyone to get into the caves.
Legolas shot one last arrow into the ugly creature’s face before sprinting to safety with his companions.

All of the members gathered in a huddle and watched in horror as the only fast way out was blocked by huge pieces of stone.

“There is only one way out.” Gandalf stated. “We must face the long dark of Moria.

It took three long hours to get to the middle of the mines where Gimli soon discovered the grave of his beloved cousin. The fellowship took a few minutes to sympathize with the poor dwarf, until Pippin knocked over a skeleton and bucket.

Seconds later, booming footsteps could be heard coming closer and closer, along with the crazy wails of orcs and goblins.

Boromir and Aragorn closed the ancient doors to the big burial room and barricaded it with axes and spears.

“They have a cave troll.” Boromir realized after hearing the roars of the monster.

The two men resided next to the others and all armed their weapons. Within moments, the enemy barged their way through the flimsy wooden doors and began to fight.

The ranger sliced his way through the mass of orcs, cutting off their heads and driving his blade deep in their guts.

Boromir used his sword as a throwing knife, tossing it into his opponents and retrieving it again by knocking them out with his shield.

Gandalf and the hobbits fought close together, helping each other kill as many nasty beings as possible.

Legolas pulled an elven blade from its sheath on his back and slit an orc’s throat. Then, he battled the troll for a little while. He ducked underneath the chain it was using as a mace, then pinned it to a stone pillar, scaled it, and shot an arrow into its head.

The elf then met the rest of the team on the floor, and stabbed at it every now and then with his knives. Soon, the troll was dead, he having shot an arrow through its brain.

Frodo was dead too, so they thought. It appeared that the hobbit had been stabbed by a large spear, but didn’t die because he was wearing Mithril armor.

“You are full of surprises Master Baggins.” Gimli said.

Everyone chuckled at the humorous dwarf, but then paused to hear more orcs coming.

“To the bridge of Khazad Dum!” ordered Gandalf.

On the way, the group encountered a broken staircase, and more Uruks firing arrows down at them.

Legolas and Aragorn took defense of the fellowship while they tried to get across.

After almost losing the ranger and Frodo, they managed to finally get away from the stairs and sneaky orc archers, only to find that more trouble lie ahead.

The Fellowship found itself surrounded by more Uruk – Hai and Goblins until a loud, low bellow erupted from the back of the mines. To their misfortune, it was the ravaging Belrog, a devil – like creature that loved to kill those who tried to cross the Bridge without stopping in to say hello.

The giant being followed the group until they came to the narrow pass, where Gandalf turned and told the Belrog that it cannot pass.

Frodo called down to him, warning him that he could lose his life to this monster.

The wizard took no notice of the Halfling’s desperate pleas and continued to fight.

“Go back to the shadows!” he screamed. “You shall not pass!”

The Belrog pulled out a long, flaming sword and buried it in Gandalf’s staff. To its surprise, it was unharmed. Then, the bridge crumbled beneath its intense weight and sent it back to its hellish home.

Gandalf turned to go back to the others, but the Belrog wouldn’t let him.

The fiery creature lassoed a long, stingy whip around his ankle, yanking him to the underworld with him.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!” Frodo cried as he watched his friend die.

Legolas ran to the destroyed end of the bridge and looked down. He could see the poor wizard falling to his doom. “Gandalf!” he yelled down, but received no response. A tear of grief rolled down his cheek as he realized he would never see his dear friend again.

When he turned to run and catch up with his friends, the evil demon flew back to the surface and grabbed the elf by his hair.

“Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!” he screamed in terror. “Help meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!”

Pippin ran back to see Legolas’s body fly over the edge of the rugged walkway and disappear in the darkness.
“Legolasssssssssssss!!!” he shouted in terror.

Sam heard his scream and traced his steps to find the other hobbit on his knees weeping.

“What happened!?” he exclaimed.

The young man took a moment to calm down. “Gandalf and Legolas are dead!” he cried.

Sam fell down in disbelief. Gandalf and Legolas? Dead? How could that be?

Aragorn returned for them, picking them up beneath each arm. “We must go young hobbits! We cannot linger!” he yelled.

“But Master Aragorn,” began Pippin.

“Not now!” he quieted them.

The hobbit decided to wait until they reached the others to tell him what happened.

Boromir counted them to make sure that they were all there. “Where are Gandalf and Legolas?” he asked confusingly.

“Gandalf fell.” Gimli explained.

The Gondorian lowered his head in sorrow.

“But where is Legolas then?” Frodo asked.

Pippin and Sam exchanged glances and breathed heavily.

“Well?” shouted Aragorn.

Pippin gulped and then explained. “My lord, Legolas went to the edge of the bridge to look for Gandalf, and –“his voice trailed off as he fought back his tears.

The ranger shook him roughly. “WHAT? AND WHAT?” He demanded for an answer.

“HE DIED ALRIGHT?!! HE’S DEAD!” Sam shouted in anger.

Aragorn could almost feel his heart skip a beat when the Halfling said the word ‘dead’.

He fell backwards, and stared at the ground in shock. Then he cupped his hands around his face and began to sob. He cried for Gandalf and for Legolas. How could such evil take away those dearest to him?

“How did he die?” asked the ranger between cries.
Sam sighed. “Pippin said that the Belrog came back and pulled him over the cliff.” He said.

Aragorn cried even harder. His love was gone. His best friend was gone. This was the worst day of his life.

When the rest reached Lothlorien, Haldir greeted them. This made the ranger’s pain even worse, because he knew he had to explain to him why Legolas wasn’t there. He and the Mirkwood elf had been friends for thousands of years, and to tell him of his death was going to be hard.

“Ah, Aragorn.” The March warden said. “Where is Legolas?”

This was it, the moment of truth. Aragorn swallowed the lump in his throat and summoned the elf to talk to him in private.

When they returned, he was crying.

“He was my best friend!” shouted Haldir. “How could that evil creature do such a thing?”

The painful cries of the Lothlorien caused the others to grieve for the two men again. They cried so hard for so long, that Haldir never led them to the house of the Lord and Lady. He just sent them to bed and told them to depart the next morning. And with that, the fellowship was split into different parties, all going their separate ways without seeing each other again for many years to come.
Chapter end notes: Want me to continue? Email me at margaret.sklar@yahoo.com.
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