Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or make any money from this.
Outskirts of Rivendell:
He had hair that was once blonde but was now brown from dirty and crusted with dried blood. He was tall with grey eyes. He was wearing nothing more than rags that didn't cover his body and his hands were bound in front of him so that he could run behind the horse he was tied to.
Beside him, was another, his hair in a similar state and his eyes leaf green. He was tied to the other horse in a similar fashion but, unlike him, his rider did not waste time yanking on the lead rope.
Apart from them, there were two others. A well dressed man, obviously a nobleman and another rider, maybe a soldier. They were both tall and sturdily built, one with red hair and the other with brown.
He managed to regain his feet one more time only to fall again as the rider gave a sharp, well timed tug on the lead rope. This time, he did not rise.
"Sire, we'll need to stop for the day. It can't go any farther," called the rider.
"Very well, but it will receive punishment later. It should have been able to go at least two more hours," the man replied.
"With pleasure," the other replied. He lifted the riding crop, but the man stopped him. "Wait until it's conscious," he said.
Over an hour later, he began to stir.
"Slave!" the nobleman called. "Draw some water and prepare our dinner."
Aethelred did just that and, although his stomach was growling, he did not get so much as a mouthful of water.
Later that night, both were bound to a tree, he was once again unconscious.
Aethelred was not. "Stay strong, Legolas. Eärendel is bright tonight."
The next day, they were forced to make breakfast and watch the two men eat it. Then they were tied up and he started the day being dragged.
"Halt!" came a voice suddenly. It's melodic tones cutting through the haze in his mind. The voice continued to speak, but he only heard snippets. He swayed, knowing that if he didn't remain standing, that he'd be worse off tomorrow.
"...Rivendell?" the voice asked.
"Merely… through," Master, his master replied.
"Then... mind... inspection," the voice replied.
"Nay," Master laughed. "Do...please?"
He heard the person shuffling around for a few moments before someone appeared in front of them. He frowned. The man had blonde hair and the clearest blue eyes he'd ever seen and… was that ear pointy? The only pointy ear he knew of was Aethelred's and his own.
Suddenly, he was yanked to the ground by Aethelred and, remembering his manners, he knelt, his forehead touching the ground in submission, praying to any of the many gods he'd heard of that it wasn't too late. Strange how it never seemed to help.
As his hair shifted forward, he heard the man gasp. Then he felt hands grasping his forearms firmly and he only just managed to keep from flinching. Carefully, the hands helped him rise. Aethelred was standing already standing.
The stranger was speaking again, "...them...over…me."
He jumped when his master suddenly shouted, "No! They're mine!"
The stranger said something in a language that was beautiful, but foreign. As one, the men in the trees came and surrounded his master, weapons held high.
His master looked furious and as he came, he stepped back, despite all his training not to. His master cuffed him around the head, drawing a surprised cry from him and glares from the surrounding pointy eared people. Ignoring the glares, his master untied him and Aethelred. Then he got back on his horse and they both rode away without another word.