Chapter 3: Lost and Found

Elladan clucked his tongue, coaxing his horse over the exposed roots and rampant underbrush that was making traveling through Mirkwood slow and difficult. More than once since coming to this dark forest, he wondered if it would have been better to set the horses free at the border. But it would have been just as hard for the animals to find their way home over the mountain pass, and Elrohir had been loathe to part with the faithful steeds. Still, the elves' love for their horses was currently warring with a dire sense of urgency. Legolas was out there somewhere, and Ilúvatar knew what he was enduring.

Elladan's horse nickered and kicked to dislodge a clump of ivy that had caught his back hoof. The animal's pupils were wide and rolling about in growing unease the deeper they ventured into Mirkwood. Elladan did not blame him; the woods were much darker since the last time he'd entered, only a few decades ago. A heavy malevolence hung in the air, sinister susurrations whispering through the trees. Shadows swayed as though they were live entities writhing like worms under bushes and shrubs. Even though the Shadow of Sauron no longer dwelt in the southern fortress of Dol Guldur, it seemed his influence had seeped into the very soil, so that now any new growth was tough and fibrous, with thorns instead of blossoms, and the aged trees that had once been glorious in their beauty had begun to bow under the weight of rot and decay.

Elrohir whispered soothing phrases in his horse's ear, keeping one comforting hand on the animal's neck as he guided the lead to follow Gandalf. Elladan did not know how the wizard determined the path they needed to take in their search for Legolas, but he did not question it. Gandalf pushed through brush and around copses with a single-minded purpose, stopping only occasionally to close his eyes and mutter some litany under his breath. He always adjusted their course after that, and though Elladan could not understand the Istar's methods, he held onto hope that they were drawing nearer to their quarry.

His horse's ears flicked back at the same moment Elladan heard rustling leaves and cracking twigs off to their left. He unsheathed his sword and held it at the ready, keen eyes trying to pierce the dense foliage. Something was approaching them, and at a great pace.

Gandalf gripped his staff in both hands, tense as well, while Elrohir silently retrieved his bow from his horse's saddle and nocked an arrow. A flash of dull brown between trees was the only glimpse Elladan caught before the stranger barreled into their midst and pulled up short, huffing from exertion. The first thing Elladan noticed was the familiar bow and quiver on the stranger's shoulder, and he was about to leap forward and attack when Gandalf let out a relieved sound.

"Radagast."

Elladan quickly checked himself. He had never met the Brown Wizard, but the elderly man with a bushy beard and wide-brimmed hat certainly fit the image. Gandalf strode over and clasped his fellow Istar's shoulder, eyes briefly noting the elvish weapons as well. "Any news?"

Radagast straightened. "I've been following the trail for three days, and they have made a straight line for the Mountains of Mirkwood."

Gandalf frowned. "And these are men, you say? Strange destination."

"Aye." The Brown Wizard glanced at the twins, who promptly put away their weapons.

"This is Elladan and Elrohir," Gandalf introduced. "The sons of Elrond and friends to Legolas. They were with me when I received your message."

"Ah, good, good," Radagast bobbed his head.

"Have you any idea if Legolas was hurt?" Elrohir spoke up. Like Elladan, he probably figured that it would have been a great struggle to subdue the prince.

"There has been no blood on the trail," Radagast replied, and a wave of sadness washed over him. "I believe he may have been taken by surprise—another elf had been caught in a vicious trap where the abduction took place. That one…did not make it."

A pang pierced Elladan's heart at the news. Death for elves was not something taken lightly.

"Also, I found this at one of the poachers' campsites." Radagast pulled out a wadded up handkerchief and held it up to Gandalf's nose.

The Grey Wizard took one whiff before jerking his head away. "It takes a lot of technique and time to distill ether from plants."

Elladan's brows shot up, and he strode forward to take a sniff himself. The sickly sweet odor was faint, but present, which meant it had been used sooner than three days ago for it not to have evaporated completely. Shock and anger exploded in his chest. "They are keeping him drugged."

"For the journey, it seems. But if the mountains were their final destination, they would have reached it by now," Radagast said, and shook his head. "I'm glad you're here, Gandalf. I had not the time to head north to the palace. I'm sure they know he's missing by now, but would have no idea where to look."

"Unless a ransom was sent," Elrohir said, voice rough with growing emotion.

Radagast shrugged, and then whirled around as the bush at his feet suddenly swished, and a small fox hopped out. The Brown Wizard crouched down and let the creature jump into his arms, to which Elladan and Elrohir exchanged bemused glances. Radagast held the creature up to his ear, eyes flying wide.

"They are near!"

Elladan shot Gandalf a dubious look, but the Grey Wizard seemed to have no qualms about taking the word of a fox, for he turned on his heel to quickly follow Radagast. Drawing his sword once more, Elladan hurried after them. He heard Elrohir instruct the horses to wait before sprinting forward as well. The two elves swiftly gained on the hobbling wizards, and a minute later the four of them came to an abrupt stop as they found themselves face to face with a group of four humans. At least, Elladan counted only four, though one was the size of a good three combined. But then his eyes latched onto the limp, blond-haired elf cradled in the giant's arms.

"Fiends!" Elrohir snarled beside him, taking aim with his bow. "Release him."

For a moment, the men looked just as bewildered, but then the smallest put his hands up warily. "Ah, is he a friend of yours? Please, we mean no harm. We found him in the woods, injured, and were just bringing him north to the elves' domain."

Elladan frowned at this strange turn of events. He swept his gaze across Legolas, eyes narrowing at the bruising on his face and the obvious rope abrasions on his hands. But he was not tied up now. Perhaps these men had drugged him again.

"Is that so?" Gandalf harrumphed doubtfully.

The young man and apparent leader gestured slowly to the giant, who squatted awkwardly and laid his bundle gently on the ground.

"We will leave him in your care," the adan spoke again, beckoning for his men to take a slow, measured step back.

Elrohir's bowstring remained taut, and Elladan placed a cautioning hand on his brother's arm. Something was strange here. If these men did not intend to fight for Legolas, were they not the kidnappers then? The leader appeared calm, but the other two of normal size were fidgeting nervously. The giant remained almost impassive.

"Who are you and what is your business in these parts?" Elladan asked sharply.

"We were traveling through the forest on our way from Dale," the man replied, then shook his head ruefully. "We were warned not to stray from the road, but our first night here we became lost. Actually, coming upon this elf was good fortune for us both, for he was able to tell us the direction back to the Elvenking's realm. Going back was out of our way, but it was the right thing to do. Though, now that you're here, we can resume our journey west."

Elladan flicked an uncertain glance at the wizards. Their tale sounded almost plausible, but for the fact he knew Legolas had been taken by men. But then why would they insist on letting the prince go now? Elladan jerked his attention back to Legolas, breath catching in alarm until he noticed the steady rise and fall of the elf's chest. So he was not dead. But then what was the game here?

Gandalf took a step forward, leaning on his staff so as to appear unthreatening, but Elladan knew better. "We…thank you, for your intent to deliver him safely home."

The man bowed his head. "Just common decency."

Elrohir's aim lowered a fraction, and Elladan removed his hand. He wanted to get to Legolas's side, but no one seemed ready to make any sudden movements. Except for the fox, who at that moment scampered up Radagast's shoulder and onto his hat where it began barking furiously at the men. Elladan was stunned, as were the humans, by the quirked expressions on their faces.

Radagast drew himself up and brandished his staff like a weapon. "They're lying, Gandalf! They took him to begin with!"

Elladan surged forward, not even hesitating at the fact he was acting on the word of a fox. The men were only a few feet from Legolas, but Elladan was standing over his friend in the next instant, sword raised and ready to defend him.

Elrohir had his bow up again. "Do not move!"

"No, wait…" the young man sputtered, but two of his companions drew their weapons. The red-headed one had a sword, the taller man an axe. They charged at Elladan, who swung his sword to block the nearest blade. An arrow whistled through the air, thudding into the axe-man's shoulder. He cried out as he fell. Elladan's blade grated along the red-head's sword, and he shoved his weight forward to knock the slighter figure backward.

The giant among them threw his head back and let out a deep, throaty roar before he swung his arm like a club. The beefy appendage struck Elladan in the side and sent him flying. He hit the ground hard, and would have rolled into a crouch were it not for the dense underbrush that tangled around him. Flailing to get out from the creepers, he saw Gandalf and Radagast leap into the fray with their staffs. The resounding thwacks of wood striking flesh reverberated on the air, but seemed to do little against the brute. The giant grabbed the end of Gandalf's staff and flung the Grey Wizard aside. Mithrandir crashed into a tree with a pained 'oomph'.

Elrohir loosed an arrow that embedded in the hulk's chest, but did not pierce the bulging muscles deep enough to slow him down. Scooping up his sword once more, Elladan lunged forward, determined to protect Legolas from being trampled. He almost lost his concentration when he spotted the tiny fox biting at the prince's collar and trying to pull him away. The full-grown elf was too heavy, of course.

The other men were on their feet again, brandishing their blades against the Brown Wizard. An arrow whizzed past Elladan's ear to strike the red-head in the center of his chest. Elladan let is brother focus on those more vulnerable to arrows while he turned his sword on the rampaging giant.

Darting around the brute's side, Elladan attempted to draw his attention away from where Legolas lay helpless. He ducked under another thick arm and sliced his sword along the inside of the giant's thigh. The man bellowed in pain, that leg buckling and bringing him down just a little closer for Elladan's reach. The lithe elf pivoted away, only to swing back around and leap into the air, sword angled toward the ground. He hit the giant full in the chest, blade thrusting down between big-boned ribs and into the heart. The brute's eyes flew wide in shock and then confusion, before they rolled back in his head and he toppled sideways.

Elladan abandoned his sword and leaped off, landing on the ground in a half-crouch and whipping out his knife in preparation for another attack. The earth shook slightly with the hulking man's collapse. Elladan swept his gaze around, noting the two men slain by arrows and the wizards dusting themselves off. He rose slowly, the silence of a battle ending ringing in his ears. Then he darted toward Legolas.

The fox gave a startled yip and zoomed under a nearby bush as Elladan dropped to his knees beside the prince, whose closed eyes and still form sent his heart rate spiking. He reached out two fingers to Legolas's neck, but before he could check the pulse, something cold slapped his skin. Elladan jerked back, catching a glimpse of a small black tendril snaking around the back of his hand. He gave his hand a sharp shake and swatted it, but the spider or whatever was gone.

Elrohir appeared at his side. "The last one fled," he said, and there was brimming ire under the surface of that tone.

"Leave him," Gandalf commanded, staggering forward. "How is Legolas?"

Elladan frowned, taking in the lack of serious injury and checking Legolas's pulse again. It was slow, yet steady. "I do not know. Perhaps they drugged him again."

"We should get him home," Gandalf said. "Elrohir, fetch the horses."

Elrohir looked reluctant to let the remaining man get away, but Legolas's condition demanded priority. With a nod, he went to retrieve the horses.

"I will come with you to the palace," Radagast said. "Thranduil will want to hear the full story, and there is an elf who needs to be identified."

Gandalf nodded, and began discussing with the Brown Wizard the safest route north, for Radagast had traveled these parts more thoroughly than the rest of them, save the one lying unconscious at their feet.

Elladan laid a hand on Legolas's brow, whispering a prayer to Ilúvatar that the prince would be all right.


Cain clenched and unclenched his fists, watching the dispassionate look on Mornince's face as he reported what happened. He could still see that raven-haired elf flying through the air like some ethereal devil and plunging his sword into Fezzick's chest. Even in death, the giant had not uttered a word. Cain had fled then, back to the cave and the sorceress's protection. But if he had hoped for sympathy, or perhaps rage on his behalf…well, he was sorely mistaken.

"They were taking him back to the Elvenking's halls, weren't they?" Mornince asked sharply.

Cain gritted his teeth. "Yes."

She waved a dismissive hand. "Then the plan is still in place."

"My men are dead. Fezzick is dead." That was the blow that hurt the most. Despite the giant's size, he had been more of a gentle soul, one preferring guidance rather than acting on his own. Cain had taken it upon himself to look after the brute. Joran and Travers, too, though their deaths didn't sting as bad. Those fools had acted rashly when Cain had the situation under control!

"All the more reward for you," Mornince replied blithely, and turned away to sort through her various vials.

Cain flexed his hands into fists again, and it took a great deal of willpower not to explode at the woman. But he was no fool—lissome and delicate she may have appeared, but he would be no match against her magic.

"Somehow the old man knew," he seethed, neglecting to mention the ridiculous fox perched atop the geezer's hat and yipping manically. "How could he know who we were? The others were ready to believe my story."

Mornince stilled, eyes narrowing as she looked back at him. "What old man?"

Cain crossed his arms, if only to keep the urge to strike something tamped down. "There were two of them. One wore a brown robe, the other grey."

Mornince stormed around the table toward him, and he instinctively backed up into a shelf, its contents clinking against each other. "Did they carry wooden staffs?"

Cain blinked. "Yes."

She snarled and whirled away. "What is that fool doing this far north? He should be in Rhosgobel. And the Grey Wizard is with him!"

"Wizard?" Cain repeated. "You mean those two old coots possess powers?" They sure hadn't used any during the fight.

Mornince scowled, and then marched to the back shelf where she pulled out a large sack, which she dropped onto the altar. "Meddlesome wizards never could mind their own affairs," she grumbled, scooping up items and packing them.

Cain stared in bewilderment. "You're leaving?"

She shot him a baleful look, as though this was all his fault. He had to swallow the urge to remind her that his men were dead because of her idiotic plan to return the captive elf to his people.

"I have to move some things up," she replied. "Once Thranduil's realm falls, I will take control of the palace. But those wizards will have to be dealt with first."

Cain shook his head and turned toward the cave exit. He'd had enough of witches and wizards and elves.

"Where do you think you're going?" Mornince snapped, and the venom in her voice made him freeze.

"I did what you wanted," he said, drawing his shoulders back to appear taller than his five-foot-eight. "And the losses were not worth the promised payment."

Mornince's eyes darkened, and it seemed as though the shadows hugging the perimeter of the cavern began to bend and twist. "I still have use for you."

Cain opened his mouth to tell her what he thought of that, but a breath of icy air stole down his throat and into his lungs, making them seize. His eyes widened as she glided toward him, one hand reaching up to cup his face. Tapered fingernails dug into the flesh of his cheek.

"Stay and do my bidding, or you may join your friends as carrion for spiders." She leaned in to press her cheek to his, breath slithering in his ear. "And I promise you will still be alive as they eat you."

A shudder ran down his spine, but Cain forced himself not to move. Clenching his jaw, he met the sorceress's gaze with a steely look of his own. Fine, he would do as she said. But the moment she had her prize, he was gone.

Mornince stepped back, mouth curling with malignant glee. "Now, we need to prepare. The wizards will come looking for answers—never can help themselves. And I'll need them out of the way…"


A/N: And Legolas is rescued! Or is he? We'll find out next week. ;)