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There were many words Elladan Peredhil would have used to describe the Prince of the Greenwood, some of them more flattering than others. 'Stark raving mad' had not featured in his repertoire until now.

The ground shook fit to waken the dead as he and his brother along with the troupe of Dunedain rangers rushed in the direction Issiril had indicated. No need for silence now; apparently their golden-headed friend had decided to start the fight without them. A quick glance between himself and Elrohir as they ran spoke volumes. But then the two of them had never needed such cumbersome things as words to make their opinions known to one another.

Breaking free of the scraggly tree line, the rangers nearly drew up short at the sight that met their eyes. Four enormous trolls, each as brutish and burly as the next were all bellowing at the top of their lungs and shoving one another in their haste to chase after the source of their consternation. The fourth and smallest just barely remained in view long enough for the rangers to watch it thunder down after the others into a narrow ravine. It was a slim chasm, a tight fit for such monstrous creatures. No doubt it would be an even tighter fit for whatever they were chasing once they got it cornered at the southern end of the crag. For that inevitably was what would happen; the ravine tapered into a dead end as it wound down the hill, rocky ledges lining it from all sides including the end.

"Well, this couldn't be an easier fight if the trolls had been trussed up and served to us like Mabon turkeys!" Beringil shouted, an arrow already notched to his bowstring. "I say we take advantage of a good shot while we have it."

"The sooner the better." Said Elladan tersely.

Taking up positions on the rim of the ravine, they had an all too clear view of what was going on below. The four trolls, each being as wide across as a two cows laid nose to tail were forced to move single-file as they chased after Legolas. The Sindarin elf for his part had gained a sizeable lead on the oafs and already he was running out of ravine. Conveniently this placed a good deal of distance between himself and the trolls, making for a clear target for the rangers.

"Fire!" Beringil gave the order, drawing back the fletching of his arrow to his ear before sighting and releasing.

Arrows pelted down like rain on the trolls from above. Trolls have thick hide though, and the four brutes were far more angered than hurt from the first volley.

Elladan and Elrohir both carried shortbows, but those lacked the draw weight necessary to really do any damage on such beasts. As the rangers continued, firing at will now the trolls roared with fury and began to thrash, shaking great clods of dirt and stone from the walls of the ravine.

'Legolas could very well be crushed, closed in that small space with the monsters.' Elladan and Elrohir both came to much the same conclusion within seconds of each other. Straining to see around the uproar the trolls were kicking up as they slowly turned into large pincushions, Elladan tried to see just where in Eru's name Legolas was.

One of the trolls gave a great wheezing heave, and suddenly collapsed as though hamstrung. Which was, in fact, exactly what had happened. Elladan caught a glimpse of light reflecting off of one of Legolas's two white knives. He himself knew just how sharp those blades were, and had the healing mark on his neck to prove it. It looked like mayhem down there on the ravine floor.

"Legolas, up here!"

Elladan heard his own voice reflected in that of his brother, and turned to look. Elrohir had spotted a slight ledge several hand-spans down along the ravine wall. It wasn't much, but if the prince could get to it he could be pulled up from there. And up was where he needed to be; the chaos of stamping trolls was making it devilishly hard for the Dunedain to be certain a misplaced arrow wouldn't catch the lone elf below.

For a moment it was impossible to tell if Legolas had even heard. Even the white-gold of his hair was lost amidst the thrashing of the three trolls as the arrows began to take their toll. Elladan thanked the Valar that the creatures were too stupid to come back up out of the ravine and fight on even ground.

Then one of the larger trolls began to keel over, clutching at its head where an arrow protruded from its ear. One of Kaylen's from the look of the fletching. Like a squirrel darting up a rock Legolas suddenly appeared from the melee, scampering up over the troll's bowed head and onto its shoulders.

"Jump!" Elladan shouted, marking that Legolas's visibility was not going unnoticed. One of the other two trolls remaining seemed to have regained just enough focus to be making a grab for him. A giant, clumsy fist swiped at the spot where Legolas crouched, coiling for a spring.

With the speed and agility of said squirrel, Legolas was already in the air. Even using the offending troll's arm as a springboard, he launched himself up with outstretched hands toward the ledge. For a moment Elladan feared he hadn't gotten a grip and had fallen down to the ravine floor below.

Andris was already on the move, being closest to the ledge from where he stood. Leaving the trolls to the others, he dropped to his belly and leaned far over the edge.

"Legolas, grab onto this!" The young Dunedain pulled down his bow and offered it to the Sindarin elf where he hung, dangling by his fingertips above the wrath of the dying trolls.

"Watch yourself!" Elladan had to make a dive to catch onto Andris's belt before he himself passed the point of equilibrium and slid over into the ravine. So like mortals, to act first and think later.

The troll that had grabbed for Legolas earlier wasn't done yet, and even through the hail of arrows kept on trying to reach for a dangling leg. The bow was just short of where Legolas could get a hold of it and be pulled up to safety. Elladan heard a sharp intake of air from his brother which brought his gaze snapping up.

Following Elrohir's gaze, he too felt the breath die in his lungs. The smallest troll, and apparently the smartest was bending to the ravine floor. Shielding itself from arrows behind the body of the larger troll, it scooped up a sizeable boulder...perfect for throwing.

"Get him up Andris! Now!" Elrohir shouted, kneeling at the ready to haul the prince up by the first body part that he got a hold of.

A well-placed shot from Beringil finally brought down the troll with grabbing hands, leaving the final, smallest creature exposed to the line of fire above. The beast hauled back its arm for the throw just as Andris slid dangerously far over the edge and got the tip of his bow into Legolas's reach. Legolas shot up a hand and instantly caught hold, and they all prayed the wooden weapon would hold.

Thankfully elves are as a rule light of build, and Andris's youthful strength was more than enough to bring Legolas nearly flying up to the edge. With Elladan keeping Andris from slipping over himself, Elrohir was able to grab Legolas by the wrists and haul him up and over.

The rock left the troll's hand just moments before an arrow to the eye ended its fight. The horse-sized projectile traveled short and fast, thundering into the side of the ravine where Legolas had dangled not moments previous. It had been a close call...perhaps even closer than first met the eye.

A fault in the dense earth and stone cracked wide open upon the impact of the boulder. Elladan, Elrohir, Andris and Legolas all felt it as one when the very ground beneath them shuddered. The cliff side was giving way. Seeing the whites of Legolas eyes, Elladan almost had time to register that it was the first time he had ever seen fear from the prince of the Greenwood.

"MOVE!"

Elladan reckoned Beringil could break eardrums with a shout like that. The elf, Peredhel and ranger all scrambled with near comic urgency. The ground was breaking apart beneath their very hands and knees, great clods of earth simply falling away to shatter on the stones far below.

Legolas was the first to make it to solid ground by sheer virtue of his incredible dexterity. Elladan and Elrohir were both very nearly too late, having to dig their fingers into the chilly earth even as everything from the waist down dangled in suddenly open air. Andris was another matter though.

Lacking the emergency speed of elves in a hurry, the young Dunedain had been somewhat left behind in the scramble. Just as he was gathering himself for the last needed lunge to place himself firmly on solid ground, the last scrap of overhang gave way beneath him. Mouth open in an 'O' of surprise, Andris dropped away out of sight.

With lightning fast reflexes, a flash of steel glinted in Legolas's hand and he rolled an arm and shoulder over the side of the new cliff. There was a brief tearing sound, and everyone held their breath in its wake. Oddly though, there was no muffled 'thump' of a body hitting the ravine floor below.

Sitting up, Elladan scrambled toward the edge on his hands and knees, almost getting there before Kaylen. The auburn-haired ranger leaned as far over as she dared, almost stepping on Legolas in her haste.

"Andris!"

"...Here!" Andris's voice rose up over the edge, and leaning forward Elladan could see the source of the young man's salvation. Radanir's knife was driven through the bunched hood of Andris's cloak, pinning him to the side of the ravine like a wall hanging. Afraid to so much as twitch lest his cloak rip the rest of the way, Andris dangled perfectly still.

With a weak attempt at a smile, Legolas let out a long breath and looked at Beringil over his shoulder. "We could do with a length of rope...quickly, if you please." The elf spoke calmly, but with a quiet delicacy that underscored the precariousness of Andris's situation.

"Catch onto this Andris." Kaylen was already unfurling a length of rope from her pack.

It seemed everyone collectively held their breath until the line went taught with the ranger's weight. There was no lack of helping hands to pull Andris up to safety, and the moment his feet touched solid ground a ripple of pent up relief spread through the party as laughter.

Sitting up, Legolas re-sheathed the dagger from Nerwen's husband. Patting the slim knife at his hip, he couldn't help but smile. Already the heirloom had accumulated another tale for its telling.

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