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    Summary

    Their story from the dreadful aftermath of the Last Alliance to Sauron's rise in Dol Guldur.

    With a sonorous sigh of exhaustion, Thranduil closed his eyes again. “I have no strength left to fight, Legolas. I wish I had, I wish I had fought long ago to the bitter end.” Legolas, leaning over Thranduil’s bed, smoothed a hand over his father’s forehead. The skin was clammy and cold to the touch, worse than it had been before. “Malice spreads through the earth in the south. It is gathering its strength and draws closer with every day that passes.”

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