Title: Hard Times

Author: MysticHeero

Chapter: One: Lost

Summary: It's amazing how young children can change a situation just by a mere word or expression.

Author's Notes: Legolas is only a tiny three years old, but is also small for his age. There isn't any slash in this fic, so sorry slash fans. Hith'lain is Legolas' mother in this.

Dedication: I'm dedicating this ficcy to Scotty-Lass and her little brother Jay as without them I have no knowledge of children. I was the youngest in my family.

Warnings: Character death, but its not too heavy.

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Hith'lain smiled as she watched the antics of her youngest child. Legolas was only just turned three and this would be his first visit to Imladris. He was seated on the horse in front of her, currently jumping around trying to get the mount to hurry up, and Hith'lain couldn't help but chuckle at his antics. The mare, named Uuriglos, was used to Legolas riding with his mother and despite the fact the child was wildly flapping the reins about the horse continued with her steady pace along the rocky path.

"Go faster?" Legolas looked up imploringly at his mother with the request and the Silvan queen dropped a kiss on his brow.

"Not just yet sweetie. When we are out of the mountains and on flatter lands." She told him gently, making a mental note to discourage both her husband and older children from racing about with Legolas on their horses. They thought she didn't know about their rides in the woods, but Legolas was quite good at trying to get what he wanted and often took the argument of "but Ada does." Thranduil denied it all but Legolas never lied, so he was caught on the loosing side of the arguments a lot.

"Please?" Legolas tried again, this time adding the sweetest smile he could muster. Unfortunately, for him, his mother was immune to such emotional blackmail, unlike the King.

"Do you want the rest of your lunch Las?" Hith'lain deflected the plea and Legolas scowled, knowing his mother wouldn't listen.

"No." he said glumly, and turned his attention to the passing mountainside with wide attentive eyes. Knowing her last child only too well, the Queen of Eryn Galen pulled out the remains of Legolas' lunch from her saddle bags. She held a piece of Lambas in front of Legolas' eyes and waited for him to take it, munching on it happily.

They were five and a half days into the trip now and only four days at the most from their destination. Legolas had been very well behaved considering this was his first trip outside of Eryn Galen and Hith'lain knew it must be boring for him. He was, really, still too young to be travelling like this but he had successfully convinced all his family into letting him go. All it had taken was a near-four hour long tantrum and lots of crying for the royal family to give into their guilty feelings. The queen chuckled at the memory. They were all strict when it came to raising Legolas, for the fact it was so incredibly easy to give in to his wants. Between his big blue eyes and innocent looking face the elfling could get anything out of almost anyone, especially the cooks – which would be the reason behind Legolas' siblings repeatedly taking him to the kitchens for sugary treats and biscuits.

One of the guards up ahead called for the captain of their small company, and the Queen became alert to her surroundings, in hope of sensing what may be wrong. There was something that made her tense, but everyone was on edge more than they normally would, because of the young prince in their midst, who was watching those around him in confusion, as he did not understand their actions. Hith'lain pulled Legolas further up in the saddle, holding him closer to her protectively, and moved her thick fur-lined riding cloak to shield him from view. The horses became restless, nickering nervously as they picked up their pace without any need of encouragement by their riders. This worried the queen further, with the animals also sensing something amiss, and she pricked up her senses as best she could, carefully scanning their surroundings continuously.

The elfling began to squirm, at being held so securely under his mother's cloak, and Hith'lain looked down at him to find her son was staring up at her with wide questioning blue eyes.

"Shhh Las. Just stay still for a minute, alright." She pleaded quietly with her last child.

"Nana?" Came the tiny reply, an undertone of worry and confusion evident in his voice, and the elfling moved to peep out of the cloak wrapped around him snugly.

There was a silence for a while, as no living thing dared make a noise, and then it happened. From well concealed entrances, orcs poured out of their holes down the small slope, towards the small elven company without pause. As the first orcs made it to the horses the elves had already drawn weapons and their blades clashed with the dark, impure metal of orcish craft. The queen clutched Legolas to her, as their guards surrounded them, shielding them from the slaughtering orcs. But they were fiercely out numbered by the dark creatures, with nothing to their advantages. Quickly the elven ranks were reducing in size, though they brought many orcs with them in death and the orcs managed to break through the small defence, spreading between their prey to attack from all sides.

Uuriglos was rearing, and kicking frantically at the enemy, trying to fend off the attacks by the orcs, without dislodging the two she bore on her back. It seemed hopeless, and it was; the queen thought, as she saw her company was cut down to only the two elves at her side. She urged Uuriglos into trying to force her way through the fray to the edge so that they could flee, but the masses of remaining orcs were too many and she felt herself being pulled from the saddle along with her tiny child. Legolas was screaming in fear and an orc violently grabbed him by the arm, dragging him from his mother's own arms, only to be temporarily thrown aside in favour of the full grown elf maid they now held captive. They viciously cut her with their blades, smiling at every scream they wretched from her until her dying breath left her. The orcs were sneering at the body of the elf, her clothing ripped and bloodstained, and they moved their attention to the crying elfling, who was looking at them wide eyed from where he had fallen on the ground. The little elf didn't understand what was going on but it was scaring him and he feared what they orcs would do. So he ran away from them, tripping and stumbling on his unsteady legs as he trued to escape from the scenes of horror around him. His arm hurt where the orc had grabbed him, and threw him aside roughly, but the pain was ignored for now as his urge to hide took over.

He dove into a bush, hoping to hide from the nasty creatures following him, and tried to stop his crying, but the pain in his arm was making itself know again. He let out a scream when he was grabbed by the back of his small child's tunic and hoisted straight out of the bush with little effort for the orc holding him, but for Legolas it had hurt as he was pulled through all the bracken above him in the bush. Now covered in scratches and deeper cuts, the young prince began his crying a new more out of fear than the painful sting. The orc dropped him on the ground carelessly and then smacked the elfling hard when the little one gave a sharp sob, before the orc quickly bound their prisoner's hands and feet together with filthy rope spotted in all manners of things. An equally filthy rag was tied about his face to silence him, though his tears still continued to course down his cheeks and he shook with

An orc spoke in their harsh speech and the group made to leave, one picking Legolas up as it passed, hauling him roughly under one arm. All the elfling could do was sob and watch in diminishing hope that everything would just be a really horrible nightmare.