It was already dark in the woods on the mountains when Legolas finally realised he had gotten himself into a inescapable situation. It had been a few years now since he had left Mirkwood behind, driven by a big amount anger, sorrow and self-hatred. The once so innocent and pure Legolas had changed within his heart by the biggest event in his life, the passing of his mother.
Years he had been away from any possible place where they might know him, and yet now he had been out chasing orcs that had disturbed his latest camping site. That very chase, followed by his act of killing said orcs, had been his downfall. For without realising he had come closer to a place he had once known well. The Last Homely Home, Imladris, home to some of the elves he had once considered friends, and to Lord Elrond, an elf with a far more intimidating effect on him than his father had ever had.
The cries of the dying orcs echoed through the forest, the mountain beneath his feet seeming to amplify the sound. He had been about to step away from the bodies when he felt the point of a blade against his back, his eyes falling upon the lights from Imladris which lay closer than he had expected.
