A/N Aren't you glad I love you guys enough not to make you wait until next Friday for an update? :)

Disclaimer: not mine.

Chapter Two

The man, Madoc by name, stared down at the unconsciousness figure at his feet with disgust. The elf lay in a heap on the ground, dead fish and blood surrounding him. He wasn't bound to wake until much, much, later. The poison he had used on the blade was a strong sleeping draft and only fatal in very large douses.

Digging the toe of his boot into the elf's unprotected side, the assassin flipped him over. The question now was what to do with him…he could kill him, but maybe the elf could play a better use to them. Sighing in exasperation at the new problem, Madoc reached down and heaved the limp body upright. Before he made any major decisions he needed to consult with Dirhéal, the man who had hired him. He would have to hide the elf until then.

Dragging the elf roughly to the side, he threw him unceremoniously over the edges of the now ruined crates and began to stack the salvageable ones in front. Hopefully, no one would give it a second glance. It looked normal, except for the fish scattered at the bottom. Curling his lips in disgust, Madoc gathered them up also and tossed them over to join the elf.

Wiping his hands on his breaches, he stepped back, admiring his handy work. It was very good if he did say so himself. Turning his back, he straightened his tunic and took out a handkerchief, beginning to dab the blood from his rapidly swelling face. When he felt he was presentable, he merged back into the crowds of people who where steaming from the courtyard, the king's address obviously now over.

Too bad. Madoc thought sourly. He could have perhaps had a chance to finish the job, but now it was far too late. Trying to blend in, he headed towards the dungeon, where Dirhéal was waiting.

NOFINERFRIENDS

"What happened?" Dirhéal snapped, his already red face growing redder with anger as his eyes began to spark with a fury that would have caused many to quake in their boots.

"I told you," the assassin retorted back, his face calm as he crossed his arms and gave the other man a hard look. The two were sitting down at a filthy table, two mugs of ale resting in their hands. The pair where located in the dungeons of Minas Tirith, where Dirhéal had been stationed as the overseeing authority and guard for many years. It was the perfect place for the two conspires to meet, for no one would think to look for criminals there.

"Tell me again," the guard urged, taking a deep swallow of his ale as he kept a steady glare on his companion over the rim of his mug.

"An elf caught me. We fought. I stabbed with my blade. He is now out cold in an ally, along with several dead fish," Madoc replied in a board tone, flicking a bug off the table with his forefinger and thumb.

"Well, what do we do with him?!" Dirhéal bluntly asked, tipping his chair back on two legs.

"How would I know, he is your problem, not mine!" the assassin reminded coldly. The two sat in stony silence until Dirhéal suddenly set up straighter, stroking his dark beard in excitement.

"This, this elf would most likely be a friend of the king, right?" He plowed on before the other man had time to reply. "That so called king highly values elves, he married one! The idiot. That is not the point, though, the point is that he would pay a great deal of money for such a person."

Madoc grinned slyly, catching onto the other's plan.

"A great deal of money indeed." He tipped his own mug back all the way to hide his ever growing smile. Money was sometimes hard to come by in his profession and he would never turn down the large amounts of money that they were talking about. "Only we should wait. Let the king get worried and frantic over the loss of his friend. If his friend magically appears after appearing dead, then he will be willing to pay twice the money that he would have before," the assassin stated, watching his financier intently as the man thought it over.

"And after we receive the money, they can both experience an unfortunate and entirely unconnected death." Dirhéal grinned happily at the thought and nodded his head. "And this land will be free of that poor excuse for a king. Denethor was a better ruler, even if he did turn a little in the mind before the end."

The other man merely shrugged; he didn't get involved in politics.

"The problem is where are we going to keep him until the king is deemed fit to gather the most money?" he asked, running a hand through his fair, well kept, hair.

The man opposite him stood with a knowing grin, "Follow me," he demanded as he snatched a lighted lantern from the nearby hook. Madoc also got to his feet, following the light bobbing up and down as they moved further into the dungeon. For more than ten minutes they walked through the well-light hallways (The king new king had always demanded that they keep the cells in a civilized condition) until they reached the dead end of the last hallway.

"What–?" Madoc began but Dirhéal cut him off with an annoyed shush.

"Just watch!" he said, pressing his finger tips against the wall and pushing with all his might. The veins on his neck stood out and the arm muscle's stained, but then the wall began to move. It swung inward and showed them a pitch black, forbidding looking entrance. Madoc stood there with his mouth hanging open as he gazed at the doorway with shock.

"How in the name did you do know…" the assassin cried, turning with wide eyes to face his companion, who swelled with importance.

"I've been guarding this prison for a very, very, long time. I found this by accident one day." He began to walk, forcing Madoc to keep pace with him or be left behind. After they had passed through, Dirheal slammed the hidden door shut. Everything but the flickering torch was cast into complete blackness and it took their eyes a few minutes to adjust. When the assassin's eyes found the path, he cried out, falling back against the damp wall.

"It is not safe!" he hissed, noticing the many crumbling stones and rotten wood that supported their weight. As if to agree with him, the floor groaned and shifted slightly, making the assassin clutch the wall.

"Yes, it is," Dirhéal replied impatiently, striding over and grabbing the other's arm and pulling him none to gently forward. "They won't clasp."

"But they might!" Madoc insisted, his tone turning shrill, "I mean, what if they did. They would…no, no, there is no way you are getting me to gone down those!" the assassin moaned, growing pale as the small circle of light suddenly revealed a rickety staircase that descended into the darkness once more.

Dirhéal paused, tilting his head back with a sigh, "Come one, you coward!" he growled, starting the down the stairs. "There are cells below. I think it must have been another part of the prison before everyone forgot about it."

Madoc froze, his eyes narrowing at the insult. Taking a breath, he quickly moved forward and down the first three stairs, catching up with Dirhéal, "I'm no coward," he growled with anger, but Dirhéal paid him no mind.

When they reached the bottom, they discovered that it was flooded, the floor coated with at least half a foot of icy water.

"It is always flooded down here, probably why they abandoned it in the first place," the guard remarked, holding his light aloft so that it cast its ghostly light on everything in a five foot radius."The cells are down that way, "he added, pointing to his right.

Madoc nodded and stepped eagerly off the stairs, glad to have his feet back on firm ground even if they were now covered in dirty water that was cold enough to make him shiver, "Do we have a lock and a key for the door?" he asked causally, stopping at the first cell they came too and leaning over to examine the rusting bars.

"We can replace the lock, until then we can keep him tied up," Dirhéal replied, raising the light higher for the assassin. The smithy would not think it odd at all for him to request a new lock and key, he had done it often enough before for other cells that had needed it.

Madoc turned back to face him and a slow smile began to creep across his lips that, combined with the eerie lightening and already creepy conditions, almost made Dirhéal want to back a step down, but he stood firm.

"We have a special guest to care for," the assassin whispered gleefully.

NOFINERFRIENDS

"You stuck him a pile of sticking fish?!" Dirhéal question with disgust as he helped move the crates behind which the hopefully still slumbering elf was concealed.

"Be quieter," Madoc rebuked, reaching behind the crate and pushing the slimy creatures off their prisoner. "Help me with him," he grunted, jerking his head to the side in frustration. The bigger man nodded and reached over, yanking the lighter elf easily upright. The elf's eyelids flickered and then went still, his head lolling backwards. Dirhéal shook him and his head flopped forward, now resting against his chest. The elf groaned, his body tensing, and the man holding him upright let him go with alarm like he had been shocked by the movement.

"He's waking up, Madoc!" he said urgently and, Madoc was glad to hear, with fear.

"That is all right," the assassin reminded him, catching the elf before he hit the ground and pulling him back up. He swung the elf's limp arm over one of his shoulders and motioned for the solider to do the same, "We simply follow the story. It will make no difference if he is awake or not because at the beginning he will be too groggy to do much."

"Right…" Dirhéal said with hesitation, stepping forward and also sliding under an arm so that the blonde haired elf was supported between them, "You and the elf are just merchants. He had too much to drink and I saw the two of you," he muttered to himself, repeating the story one more time just in case in a moment of panic he forgot it, "I offered to help you get him to his rooms."

"Correct, now hurry up," Madoc commanded, starting the walk down with the elf sandwiched between the two of them.

All went smoothly for them and their story held true for them whenever anyone asked if they needed help.

Legolas stirred frequently as they neared the dungeons, low moans filtering out between his lips, and they picked up their pace. As soon they entered the welcoming coolness of the prison, Dirhéal turned and smashed his fist up against the elf's temple. Legolas went limp once more and they continued on to the hidden staircase.

They left him tied securely in what must have been the deepest part of Minas Tirith.

NOFINERFRIENDS

Legolas stirred, his mind foggy with pain and drugs. Something had been wrong…something to do with Aragorn…and another man, he didn't remember his name. Perhaps he didn't know it.

Groaning, Legolas forced his heavy eyelids open, realizing slowly that his pounding headache wasn't the only source of pain. There was a burning, fiery, agony in his upper thigh and the strong, salty smell of blood filled his nostrils, making him want to gag.

A smug face filtered into his blurred his vision and as it slowly came into focus, Legolas realized with a start that it was that man, the man he didn't know the name of.

"Who…" he slurred, before stopping as his head gave a nasty throb. Gritting his teeth together, Legolas just managed to stop a moan of pain.

"So you are awake, princess," the man sneered and laughed loudly when Legolas looked confused. "Cut that hair of yours and people might not mistake you for girl," he teased cruelly tugging at the blonde locks.

This action seemed to jerk Legolas further into reality and he convulsed, trying to back away from the man. Unfortunately, his hands where bound to a length of rope that was suspended from the grimy ceiling and he was unable to move. His toes where just able to touch the floor, but he couldn't feel them. They were numb from the cold, icy water that rose to just below his knees.

The man laughed again at the elf's panic and turned his back, walking to the door and picking up the only light, which came from a flickering torch. As he began to pull away, leaivng the elf in the shadows, he began to sing softly, "Good night, sleep tight, and don't let the rats bite."Turning his back, the man and slammed the old, rotting, door with pleasure.

Legolas jerked hard at his bound wrist, striving to reach him even from his bonds as everything suddenly come flooding back.

"Why'd you try 'd kill Estel!" he snarled, his tongue struggling to form the words correctly.

The man paused and looked back, now unable to see the elf through the dark, "You will just have wonder about that, won't you?" he called. He left, leaving the elf all alone in the pitch blackness.

After the echoing footsteps had faded from sound, Legolas let his head slip back to rest against his bound arms and let a low groan leave his lips. His wrist strained once more against the rope, but it held firm and the elf drew in a sharp breath, moaning again.

His body hurt, especially his leg, and the deep seated thrill of panic that was shooting through his system wasn't helping. Closing his eyes, he tried to examine his situation.

He was stuck here, wherever here was, and there didn't seem to be an immediate chance of getting out. Aragorn thought he was going to Ithilien and wouldn't know that anything was wrong. His second in command at Ithilien would be furious when he didn't arrive on time, but would most likely assume that he had stayed on with Aragorn without sending a note, or that his travels had been slowed for some reason. He wouldn't worry for a week at least, maybe more. If he had to be honest with himself, then Legolas knew it could easily be weeks before someone realized that he was missing.

By then, he had the darkest feeling that he would be dead.

TBC...

Oh... oh, dear. Legolas is not in a good situation. :) Hehehe.

Review Replies:

Nameless: No, no he can not! Not in a million years. If he simply gets out of bed he gets into trouble. :) Well, he is not dead yet and they want a ransom so that means for a little while at least he will stay alive. Thanks!

LOTCR: Just a bit of a bang.:) Legolas got really, really stinking close to saving the day! Oh, Legolas, next time just be a little more careful... HAHA! I love my cliffies! (As you just *might* have noticed.) Thanks so much!