Legolas rode among many of his kin. The group consisted of about 30 to 40 elves returning to Mirkwood from Laketown. They all rode horseback and led five great wagons filled with supplies. The group was almost within the forest when Legolas stopped laughing. His smile faded and he looked around. He could not see what had caused him to become alert, but he knew there was something. The others soon stopped as well and glanced around. It was then that they noticed what it was. They had no time to react.
“We’re under attack!”

Legolas swayed from his position upon Arod. Two arrows sprouted from his chest as well as multiple sword cuts along his arms and sides. No one else remained standing. He clinched his teeth and looked around him. The men had Gondor armor on. This could not be! Despite his current condition, he dismounted and limped over to one of the men. Pulling away the helmet, he revealed what he believed. Men of Harad; not Gondor. But how had they managed to pull it off? He suddenly doubled over, pain driving him to the ground, then everything went black…

Legolas groaned and shifted from his position. His whole body hurt. Slowly, he forced himself to open his eyes. He narrowed his eyes against the light of day and listened carefully. The voices were so loud, but they were elvish. He lifted his head to look around the room. He recognized it. This was the Healing chambers. Why was he here? He couldn’t remember. He started in surprise as a head suddenly appeared over him.
“Easy, Prince. You are safe now.”
He knew that voice. It was Celebthil, the head healer. Legolas looked up at him for a long moment.
“What happened?”
“Hush. Rest now.”
“No! What happened, Celebthil?”
The healer sighed and placed a cool cloth on one of Legolas’s wounds. He inhaled sharply and clinched his teeth, but the pain soon subsided.
“You were attacked, Prince. Men of Gondor met your caravan. You are lucky to be alive.”
It all came to him quickly. He tried to sit up, but was eased down again by Calebthil.
“It wasn’t Gondor! It was Harad!”
“Now, Legolas. Your mind must be playing tricks on you. The men were dressed in the Gondor fashion. You were badly wounded in that battle. Bad enough for you to be out for the past three days. Your father has all ready declared war upon Gondor.”
This time, Legolas did sit up. He immediately regretted it, for his head started swimming with nausea, but he ignored it.
“For what reason? It was not Gondor!”
“That matter does not concern you, Legolas. You must focus on healing. You may feel fine, but you are not out of the woods yet. Besides, your father would not approve of you talking in such a manner.”
Legolas was eased down again and he gave an irritated sigh. How in Middle Earth was he going to talk his father out of this one?

Legolas quietly slipped from his bed. He had to resist groaning from the pain, but he managed. He had to find his father right away. He carefully slid through the shadows, making his way up to his father’s study. He knew his father would still be awake, especially since he was planning war. Hopefully he could talk his father out of it. He found himself at his father’s study in no time. He knocked on the door quietly before opening it. Thranduil was sitting at a large oaken desk, barely visible under the mess of papers. He looked extremely frustrated and answered without even looking up.
“If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a million times! Stay out!”
Legolas stepped in anyway and shut the door behind him.
“Father?”
Thranduil looked up immediately in surprise.
“Legolas? What are you doing here? You should be resting!”
Legolas shook his head.
“I can’t. Not until things are set right. It was not men of Gondor that attacked us, Father. It was the Haradrim.”
Thranduil shook his head and looked at his son.
“Legolas, the men were dressed in the fashion of the Gondor soldiers. Why would the Haradrim be wearing Gondor armor?”
Legolas looked away sheepishly.
“Well… I haven’t managed to think of an answer to that yet, but it doesn’t matter. You cannot claim war upon Gondor for no reason!”
Thranduil stood up and immediately Legolas knew he had said the wrong thing. He knew better than to challenge his father’s authority. Especially when he was tired and short of temper as it was.
“You cannot tell me what I can and cannot do, Legolas! Gondor will pay for nearly taking your life!”
Legolas groaned and rolled his eyes, his own frustration getting the best of him.
“At least let me go talk to Aragorn, Father. Surely there is some reason behind this!”
“You will do no such thing!”
Legolas took a step forward, challenging his father with a determined gleam in his eye.
“I am going, Father. I will prove to you that Gondor had nothing to do with this!”
Thranduil slammed his hand on his desk.
“You know the law, Legolas! I cannot bend it for you because you are my son. I forbid you from going. You know the price should you disobey!”
Without another word, Legolas turned and stormed out of the room. Yes, he knew the price, but he didn’t have a choice. He had to go. He went off towards the stables and found Arod. The horse was in much better shape than he was. A small cut on his flank was all the horse had gained in the battle. Legolas was thankful. He carefully mounted the horse, wincing in pain as he did.
“Let’s take it easy, My Friend. At least until morning.”
Arod snorted as if understanding and took off through the trees.