Disclaimer: None of the characters in this story are mine apart from the ones which do not appear in any of the works by J.R.R Tolkien. This piece of writing has not been made with the intention of making any money or replacing/amending any of Tolkien's works.

Author's Note: It's great to be back writing again. Sorry for the delay in posting this second chapter, life is hectic right now, but I'm getting there… A MASSIVE thanks to those who reviewed – all reviews will be replied to. Please, if you are going to review with criticism (which is fine), please only comment on the structure or grammar of the story. If you don't like the actual storyline – don't read the story!! :-)

Chapter 2

Rapid but light footsteps in the corridor some time later signalled the imminent arrival of a servant Elf. This small action brought slight annoyance to the healer, as it had been ruled that there would be no such noise or disruption in the corridors of the Healing Wing. The door to the healing room was rapidly thrown open, and in the doorway stood Darmuil, one of the servants of the House, looking extremely panicked and breathing heavily. Elrond's annoyance dissipated immediately on seeing the normally calm Elf in such a state.

"Lord Elrond, I … apologies … he …dead …" The Elf stuttered but was quickly cut off by being blown roughly out of the way by an unseen assailant. Darmuil's unconscious body slammed into a nearby wall and slumped to the floor in an uncomfortable heap. Elrond and Estel exchanged glances before the Ranger moved slowly towards the now vacant door, a hand immediately seeking the pommel of his sword.

With a flash of white fabric, the enemy appeared, staff raised and pointing at the Ranger's heart.

"Make not another move, Human." Saruman spoke in a tone laced with venom. Orcs flanked him on all sides and moved stealthily into the room, threatening the Elven Lord with their stained and crudely-made weapons. Neither father nor son made a move against the enemy, knowing perfectly that they were no match for a wizard whose power was so intense it could not be spoken in words of any language.

"Ah, Lord Elrond, just who I wished to meet." The White Wizard stepped proudly into the room, leaving his minions to restrain the two captives if it were necessary. The Wizard stopped suddenly, though, on seeing another Elf, lying motionless on the bed, previously unseen. "But what is this? I have unknowingly captured none other than the Prince of Mirkwood; a more valuable prize than yourself, Elrond. Now I not only have control over Rivendell, but of Mirkwood, too."

"You do not have control over Mirkwood yet, Saruman! And neither will you ever have that control!" Estel blurted out without thinking, drawing a look from his foster-father.

Saruman glared at the young Man, furious at being argued with. But the look of fury slowly changed to one of an evil happiness. "Why you are right, Ranger, I do not have control over Mirkwood. But what you forget is that I have control over its Prince, and I have many ways and means of gathering the relevant information, none of which will be enjoyable for him."

The Wizard made towards the unconscious Prince, drawing movement from both Elrond and Estel. The Ranger made to move towards his best friend, but was stopped by the clanging of metal on metal as two Orcs brought their scimitars to meet in front of him, blocking his path and drawing the attention of the magical being standing over the Prince.

"Now, now, little Human, I wouldn't want your brash actions to be the downfall of your friend here." Saruman looked from the Ranger to the Healer, smiling snidely as he noted the expressions decorating his captives' faces. "But, I cannot do anything productive with the little Prince while he sleeps. Wake him."

Elrond started at that last statement, unbelieving at what had been ordered of him. "I cannot perform this action. The Prince will only wake when his body has healed enough."

"Elrond, you are proclaimed to be the best Healer in this Earth, and you tell me you cannot wake an Elf. Now, surely you have the power or herbs to do so, but if not, I am sure I could wake him myself, but I can assure you, it will not be pleasant for either of you." Saruman shrugged as he spoke, raising his staff slightly.

The Healer, on hearing this, protested immediately. "Do not cast your magic upon him! I have something that will wake him, but I must go and collect an ingredient from my storeroom."

"You will go and collect your ingredient, but to make sure nothing goes against your word, some of my Orcs will accompany you." The Wizard motioned to a few of his followers, and the small party left the room, father and son sharing another look.

The Healer was gone only moments, as the storeroom was just a few doors down the corridor. He gathered the items he would need and was escorted back to the room where the Prince lay unconscious.

"Saruman, there are risks on waking someone from this type of sleep. He has already been injured extensively, and this could make things much worse. If I wake him too quickly, there could be brain damage, or at worst, death." Elrond spoke quickly, trying to make the Wizard understand exactly the implications if something were to go wrong. It also served as way to try and get him to change his mind.

"Elrond, wake him up, but if you cause any further harm to him, you may well find yourself in a very bad situation. Bear in mind that I have every Elf in this realm under my control, including this Human, and your twin sons." Saruman spoke slowly, letting every bit of information sink in…