A/N: My apologies for taking forever to continue the story. I've went back to school. I'm searching for a job. And I'm sorry for not updating in more than a year. Here it is, though, the next chapter, and the M rating is here for a reason. Consider yourselves warned :-)

Chapter 3

Take my hands

The sightings of orc parties near Imladris borders had set the elven household astir. This kind of threat was not unusual and the elves have dealt with it for many years, so the flurry of activity that followed these tidings had been a controlled kind of chaos. Not chaos at all, really, not until the realisation hit that Estel had gone into the woods alone and had not returned.

Led by lord Elrond, the elven troop had ridden well into the night and the entire following day. The orc tracks were recent, but the ones that left them were still ahead as dusk fell on the second day of the hunt. Elrond was scanning the surroundings for a place to make camp when a clearing opened before the elves. In the moonlight that illuminated the sudden, wide-eyed stillness of the riders, Elladan and Elrohir slipped to the ground and rushed to the old chestnut tree in the center of the open space.

'Light the torches,' Elrond ordered in a tight, controlled voice.

The flames cast moving shadows on the bushes and on the ground where, among the dry leaves, lay scattered pieces of clothing. The lord of Imladris dismounted, followed by Glorfindel and the other warriors. Elladan and Elrohir turned when Elrond approached the tree. Elladan took a step forward.

'Father, we want to keep going.'

'No, Elladan.'

'Only the two of us, father,' insisted Elrohir, coming to stand shoulder to shoulder with his twin. 'We know you want to set camp and we agree. But the orcs travel fast and we...' Elrohir swallowed, his gaze falling away from his father's face. 'We are already too late,' he added through gritted teeth. 'Our only advantage is to hunt at night as well as day.'

Elrond looked at his sons' wild, bleak faces. The tree behind them, with its bark clawed and stained by blood, bore witness that Elladan and Elrohir were right; the elves would come too late, the child was already hurt. Everything in Elrond wanted to shrink away from such thoughts, but he couldn't.

'We have horses. The orcs don't,' he said. 'We will catch up with them.'

'The horses are slowed down by the bushes. Father,' Elladan urged, 'please!'

'No,' repeated Elrond. 'We left Imladris together and we will stay together. I will not lose any more sons.'

The twins turned away without a word. They obeyed, but stood guard at the edge of the clearing, where the orc tracks led into the darkness. The rest of the elven warriors left the soiled glade to make camp. Only Elrond stood, staring at the chestnut tree.

'Glorfindel,' he called without looking back.

'My lord?' asked the elf who had waited in silence a few steps behind.

He approached, and Elrond finally turned to look at him.

'Glorfindel, when we find Estel, Elladan and Elrohir cannot be the first to see him. Do you understand? I need you to look out for my children for me.'

Elrond smiled, and a desperate, helpless ache gripped Glorfindel at the sight.

He nodded, 'I do and I will, my lord.'

The elf lord clasped his arm in a brief 'thank you'.

Bent double, his face buried in the sticky fur, Estel was swinging like a rug doll on an orc's shoulder. It was night and the troop was running once more, the plants and herbs moaning in its wake. Estel would have moaned too, if he had any strength left. What have woken him up? Jerky movements of the beast that held him? Claws that tore into his side? Or maybe it was this sickening, rotting smell that characterized the orcs, and now marked him too. Estel hated it, he didn't want it!

When dawn came, the horror continued as if the night, instead of ending, only changed its appearance. In the grayish light, the boy saw soulless faces and bodies rotting despite the semblance of life. The orc who carried him dropped him to the ground, others came to bind him. Estel closed his eyes. If only he could sleep. Yes, fall asleep and leave, go some place where these creatures couldn't reach him, where nobody could ever reach him again.

Valar! he prayed silently. Have mercy on me. Please, I want to leave.

All around, the orcs were settling for the day. He heard them argue about food, then devour it with wet, gurgling sounds. They spoke in that hoarse language of theirs, and laughed. Were they laughing at him? Estel curled up into himself.

Valar, let me go!

But the jeers continued. Orcish voices were all around, grating like sand on teeth.

Valar . . .

Estel was naked, cold and he was in pain. Why didn't the Valar listen? He was trying to calm the shudders that shook him when the clouds opened and rain poured down, cloaking the forest in its mist. The orcs growled, but satiated and nearly impervious to cold, they were soon sleeping under the darkness of the trees. Two sentries paced the perimeter of the camp, and the earth seemed to cry under their feet. The earth, the sky and the forest wept. Estel sobbed soundlessly with them.

Evening came quickly under the leaden sky. The camp came alive as the orcs ate, drank and relieved themselves in the rain. They were going to leave. Estel opened glazed, feverish eyes and looked at the tree branches that swayed to and fro, black against the clouds. He wanted to stay strong, he really did, but he was so cold.

'Father!' Estel called out.

The word left his lips in a soft, uneven whisper and yet, somehow, the call was answered. The gnarled trees near Estel vanished in a fog and when the haze cleared, the boy found himself in a glassy glade, blinking, shaking his head in wonder. For Elrond was there with him.

'Father!' Estel called again, sobbing with joy. 'Help me!'

As the elven lord turned and saw him, darkness seemed to lift from Estel's heart.

'Estel, take my hands.'

The boy took a shaky step forward. Elrond was here! The master of Imladris seemed different, his pale robe shimmering under unknown stars, but it was Elrond. Estel held out his hands to the elven lord. Even as Elrond grasped them in his, warmth spread over Estel.

'Father,' he whispered once more.

'I'm here, Estel. Come closer. Don't let go my hands, child. I will guide you.'

Estel was nodding when something dark grasped him and ripped apart the shimmering light and warmth. He was among the gnarled trees once more, staring at the orc leader crouched beside him. Estel recoiled. The creature, lips pulled away from gums in a lecherous smile, rolled the boy over on his stomach.

Estel screamed.

He clawed at the dirt, arching his body away, desperately grasping at tree roots and shrubbery, pulling himself up, scrambling away on all fours, still tied like an animal. But the orc gripped his ankles and dragged him back and under him.

'No!' Estel sobbed, struggling against the weight pinning him down.

One flick of a knife, and the ropes around Estel's legs fell away. The orc pushed his knees apart. 'No!' Claws raked his bare thighs. 'No!' the boy screamed.

'Estel, your hands!' he heard a frantic call.

Estel tried to answer, but the pain came and he screamed without words until his voice was gone and the darkness filled him.

On the third day of the hunt, the elves were hurrying their dripping mounts in the undergrowth when the lord of Imladris bent over the neck of his horse with a faint moan. Elladan and Elrohir outdistanced the group a great deal in their haste. They didn't hear nor see their father, but Glorfindel was right behind his lord and friend. He reached Elrond as the elf straightened up, a hand clutched to his chest.

'My lord?'

Elrond exhaled, eyes closed. Dark strands escaped from his braid and clung limply to his cheeks, highlighting the elf's pallor. A tremor shook his body.

'Elrond!' cried Glorfindel.

The elves crowded around their lord. Far ahead, finally aware of the commotion, Elladan and Elrohir turned their steeds.

'One moment,' Elrond whispered.

The wind, the rain and the pounding of hooves covered his voice. He saw his sons coming back and shook the dripping hair from his eyes.

'Let's continue,' he said. 'We cannot light the torches in this rain, so let's keep going while we have daylight.'

The twins nodded without taking their eyes off him. The small group set off once more. Elladan and Elrohir still took the lead, but they stayed close, unwilling to move away for more than a few yards.

The night found the elves crouched in and under the trees. At dusk, the North wind had cleared the sky. The sons of Elrond kept each other company, as they have done since the hunt had started. Except now their attention was divided between the orcs' trail and their father.

Sitting under a lone pine, the master of Imladris undid his braid with absent movements, lent back against the bole and stilled. With his head angled down and the hair obscuring his features, he looked asleep. Glorfindel knew better. The golden-haired elf joined him when the camp fell quiet.

'I am well,' Elrond said without looking up.

Glorfindel glanced at the hunched shoulders of his friend, then sat cross-legged beside him.

'We have known each for a long time, Elrond. In all these years, I saw only once the expression you had tonight.'

Elrond winced and turned away from his advisor.

'Elladan and Elrohir had already gone to search for her,' Glorfindel continued. 'I came to tell you that my company was ready. You looked at me then, and I could hardly recognize you. You told me . . .'

'I failed,' Elrond whispered. 'I had the power to get Celebrian, her spirit at least, out of her hell. She had called out to me, you know?'

Glorfindel's eyes narrowed.

'I could,' Elrond continued without waiting for an answer. 'She had taken my hands. And Estel too. It was almost done. But I could not hold on to them.' Elrond's eyes fluttered shut and he pressed his fingertips against his eyelids. 'Don't remind me of that first failure now, Glorfindel. I beg of you, not now.'

The golden-haired elf remained motionless for a long time while an owl hooted in the nearby beech branches and the stars followed their course. At last, he sat up a little straighter as if he had reached a decision.

'Elrond, I have seen many things in my time. I don't know what you were trying to do for Estel today. I don't even know if the same laws apply in healing as in life. I can only tell you that whenever I have extended a helping hand, if the other person did not grab onto it, the task remained unfinished.'

Elrond stared at his advisor, bewildered. His eyes brightened a little, then he shuddered and dropped his head in his hands.

'They hurt too much to hold on.'

Glorfindel swallowed and gripped his scabbard with shaking hands. Above, in the infinite expanse of the sky, the star of Eärendil burned with a white-hot fire. The golden-haired elf hesitated a moment. Elrond needed to rest, and Glorfindel wanted to let him, but there was one more thing they needed to discuss.

'My lord,' he said at last, 'forgive me. The orcs are headed towards the mountains by the shortest route. They're probably already there as we speak.'

Elrond squared his shoulders and nodded. He knew that his troop would reach the mountains tomorrow, these same mountains that held memories for Elladan and Elrohir that were best left forgotten.

'Do you wish me to take your sons away from here?' asked Glorfindel.

Elrond laughed bitterly. If only those memories could be forgotten.

'No, they will never agree and I will not trick them into leaving.'

Glorfindel nodded.

'Then I will protect them, my lord. What can I do to spare you what is coming?'

A strange, luminous kind of surprise registered on Elrond's face as he looked at his friend, head tilted slightly to one side. Two tears made their silent way down his cheeks, but Elrond blinked them away, wiped his face with his palms and smiled.

'My friend, maybe you already have, by your kindness. As for the rest, it cannot be helped; if we find Estel alive, he will need a healer.'

Thank you for reading! Reviews are always welcome. If I made some utterly absurd mistakes, English or story-wise, please feel free to let me know.