Disclaimer: Those you recognize belong to Tolkien. I do not own them. Those you do not recognize belong to me.
Summary: Sequel to "Tainted." With the threat now behind them, Thranduil, Elrond, and their families look forward to healing and life returning to normal in Imladris. But hatred runs deep. When the true extent of the plot against them surfaces, they may already be too late to save all they hold dear and to escape with their lives.
Author's Note: Hey, guys! Thank you so, so much for all of your patience for the last chapter, all of your kind words and compliments on this story, and your continued well wishes (aside from seasonal allergies acting up, I am feeling much better for those wishing me well! The stress from those couple of tough weeks is about mellowed out, so that's good, and I definitely appreciate your kind words)! You guys are seriously amazing and totally make my day! I'm also really happy that you guys all love Erestor's background, and that some of you have a better understanding or more of a liking of his character (I've been passing these sentiments onto Gwed, lol)! That's what I was hoping to accomplish with the chief advisor! I was actually a bit surprised at how quickly this chapter came along since a bit more than I expected made its way into it, but I know no one's complaining about that, lol. Lately, I've been super addicted to the rock covers of classic Disney done by Jonathan Young (and Caleb Hyles) on YouTube and have had his music on repeat, so I partially have to give credit to that for just making me feel like writing (if you haven't heard these guys and you like rock, Disney, Dreamworks, Broadway, or movie songs– including music from The Hobbit– I highly suggest checking these guys out! You won't be disappointed). Inspiration can come from weird places, but that's beside the point, lol. Regardless, here's the next chapter!
In response to Maple: I'm so happy to hear that! Thank you for your patience for the last chapter! Not in this particular part, you haven't, but I'm glad about it! Yeah, Thranduil's in a really interesting sort of spot as far as his health and mindset are concerned. Though he's not going to let that stop him. I'm glad to hear it's exciting! Thank you for your review, Maple!
In response to CoffeeRanger: Hi! Yes, Erestor's past is finally out in the open! I'm glad you still enjoyed it, even though it wasn't quite as dark as you imagined it to be. I hear ya about your mind exploding in all these different possibilities, mine does this all the time, lol (and has been through all this story so far, haha. Have you written anything on this site?). The thing is, when my friend was helping me out with her headcanon on Erestor, one of the reasons it really stuck out to me was that it wasn't super unique/crazy or super tragic like a lot of background headcanons I've seen on different characters, and I felt that really just fit for him in particular. I tweaked and added a couple things, but it just really resonated with what I was doing with his character already. And it's so personal to him, a lot of the anxiety and the guilt he has is so intense since he's not a warrior by nature and had to be thrown into that lifestyle when he'd only seen it from afar before, and I think that's the part that has scarred and stuck with him after all that time. So I'm glad you enjoyed it, even though it was a twist you hadn't considered! Yeah, I agree, I love Erestor as a scout, since even though he's not a warrior, it'd be most fitting for him in a battle. And yes, all the horrors that he had seen completely changed him, as well as having to move around a lot as he kept losing his homes. Poor Erestor indeed, he needs hugs for sure! I feel the guilt he feels about not being in Nargothrond when it fell, particularly when he felt obligated to be there, because he was afraid of dying is the root of all this anxiety for him, I really do. He felt like a traitor, though I agree, it's nothing to keep holding against himself. Good point! A lot do. And yay, I was trying to do that with Glorfindel's character in this chapter! I was hoping that would be the case, lol. Oh, good! I'm glad that you felt his vow to more or less protect Erestor came across so well as something he would do! That was also my hope. Haha, it makes me happy to hear that you're geeking out about how I'm portraying their relationship and that it's being captured so well! It's just always how I've seen them. Thank you so much! *bows* Lol! And yay for Elrond! I totally agree, it wouldn't be like him at all to stay behind when his son is in danger, despite Estel's trauma. Which is why I was so happy to find an avenue for Lindir to be included in this story, because it hits two birds with one stone here– I just really wanted to include Lindir, and he can be Estel's babysitter, lol. You're totally right– with Elrond worried about everyone searching for Elrohir and Legolas, not to mention about them, he wouldn't have been able to do anything productive from back in Imladris. Hahahaha, the image of Glorfindel or Erestor (and quite potentially Thranduil) slapping Elrond upside the head when he's in that state made me legit laugh (not sure if you've watched NCIS at all, but it's totally reminding me of Gibbs, lol), because they are the ones who actually would ;) And would probably enjoy it :P Lol. I'm glad the part with Thranduil and Tidurian was as sad as I'd hoped! I was trying to express how much the people of Mirkwood love and respect their king, etc (even though Tidurian has always been close to the royal family, so he's in a bit of a different boat). Yeah, Thranduil has just come to accept what it is that has to be done and isn't thinking twice about it (Me either. I can see him being like this in most situations). But good, Tidurian's acceptance was supposed to be heartbreaking; again, I was just trying to show the magnitude of the situation, so I'm glad it worked! Nervous about Tidurian, huh? Well, I can't say whether you should or shouldn't be ;) I'm glad you're picking up on his character, though– you're right, that half-glimpsed memory involving Tidurian, as well as the character himself, is actually probably one of the most important keys/puzzle pieces to this entire situation, so I'm glad you're honing in on him! As for if he's a traitor and how he's involved in everything... we'll find out ;) Lol, I don't blame you for kinda hoping for some Elrohir and Legolas Whump!, particularly with Máfortion. I agree with you, it's not necessarily my favorite thing to read/write, either, but there can be so much done, as you said, with the character elements when in those situations, and that's the part I love! So, I can guarantee you that we'll at least see a little bit of it when it comes to Legolas and Elrohir (I'm actually already cringing at a couple things I have in mind... lol) ;) No, don't ever apologize for a long review! I love getting them, and I love hearing about what you loved or were really just drawn to in these chapters (plus this was a longer chapter, lol)! I'm so happy that you're excited about this chapter as well as all the different possibilities and roads this story could continue to take, and I'm always up for discussing that kind of thing! So please, don't hesitate to do so (or feel bad about it)! :D I hope you continue to love what comes next! You, too! P.S. Yay! Lindsey's amazing! Yes! The Arena's fantastic! It's one of my favorites as far as her newer ones go. I am also currently obsessed with her Phantom of the Opera and Les Misérables medleys, lol.
In response to Wendi: Thanks for your review! Tidurian, huh? Well, what I can say is that there is definitely something important about him, though if that turns out to be a good or bad thing, or if he's a hero or traitor, we'll have to wait to find out ;) As for if Máfortion and co. would harm Thranduil in front of Legolas and Elrohir, yeah, I wouldn't put it past them at all... Elrohir is hurt, yes. Legolas isn't in the greatest shape, either, which we'll get a little more into here! But neither one of them are, like, critically injured. I'm glad that you enjoyed the friendship between Glorfindel and Erestor. Thank you for saying so! I hope this is as good as you were looking forward to! Thanks again for your review!
Also, a quick Happy Birthday shoutout to Ladies Limwen and Aranel, my friend who's so kindly been reviewing this story and discussing it with me with each update! I hope you and your sister have a great day! :) Consider this chapter a little birthday gift from me!
Just a quick note about this chapter, it does have a bit more violence in it than most previous ones, though most of it is more observed than shown, and part of it is heavily implied rather than shown. With all that said, enjoy!
Elvish:
hir-nín– my lord
ion-nín– my son
Ada– father
penneth– young one
hannon le– thank you
mellon-nín– my friend
ernil– prince
saes– please
tithen pen– little one
Chapter 11
Elladan stood before the locked door of where their prisoner was kept, his gray eyes intent as he set his jaw and glanced at the dark-haired guard posted before it. He gave him a brief nod, and the latter reached out and slid the heavy lock aside.
"Alert me if you are in need, hir-nín," the guard said.
The older twin acknowledged the statement with only one more brief nod before he stepped into the room. His gaze immediately moved to where Amonost was sitting on the hard floor, and he set his jaw as he walked toward him.
The former guard looked up at him curiously as he approached. "Has Aeglironion been found?" he wondered, a touch of hope in his tone.
Elladan stopped before the other dark-haired Elf, anger in his narrowed eyes. "No," he murmured. "Aeglironion has not been found. It would appear that our forces had been infiltrated with those who intended to aid him. As a former guard in my father's service..."
Amonost's eyes widened. "Do you believe that I would have allowed for that infiltration?" he asked. "Elladan, I have done no such act, I swear it."
The older twin briefly lowered his gaze. He desperately desired to believe him, especially since he had never doubted the guard before he had aided Aeglironion, though there was too much that was at risk for him to take one of his own. "There was an Orc attack on our borders in the night," he explained as he looked back at Amonost, attempting to keep the rage out of his tone by keeping it as steady as possible. "Though the pack was eradicated, both Elrohir and Prince Legolas of Mirkwood have not been found. We believe those who have aided in Aeglironion's escape may have taken them."
Clear concern had crossed Amonost's face at the mention of Elrohir's name, and he leaned forward a bit. "Elladan, you must understand that I would not desire any harm to befall any member of your family," he told him, the sincerity in his tone seeming genuine. "I have known you and your brother since you were Elflings, and I have followed your father long before that. This is not something I would..."
"Where is he?" Elladan interrupted in just above a whisper, his voice beginning to shake despite his best efforts to keep it level. He set a hand lightly over his left side when the faint pain in his ribs returned. "Where would Aeglironion flee? Surely, he would not linger in Imladris, but surely he would also not venture far."
The former guard let out a long breath as he slowly shook his head. "I assure you, I know not," he said. "When I brought Aeglironion into Imladris, I had discovered him near the Ford, though I know not where he, nor those who may be ordering him to act, have been stationed–!"
His statement was abruptly cut off when Elladan suddenly reached forward and grasped his tunic tightly in both hands. "Where is he?" he demanded loudly, not attempting to keep his anger back anymore as he shook the prisoner. "Where is my brother?!"
"Hir-nín!"
Elladan heard the guard stationed in the hall yell out to him, startled, but he ignored him as he continued to glare only at Amonost as he shook him once again. "Where is he?!"
Amonost, though surprised himself by the treatment, also seemed to understand it as he gave a resigned sigh. "I beg your pardon, Elladan, but I truly do not know where your brother would be taken..."
The older twin stared at him for a moment longer, his breathing heavy, before he shook his head. He would not accept that answer. He could not for Elrohir's sake. Keeping one hand on the former guard, he swiftly bent over before pulling the small dagger he kept on him out of its sheath.
"No, hir-nín!"
The guard at the door's words hardly registered in Elladan's mind as he continued to gaze intently into Amonost's fearful eyes, but before he could make any other movement, two pairs of arms wrapped securely around him from behind. He resisted as they began to pull him away from the prisoner, but they were relentless and their hold on him was strong, and the older twin found himself being dragged toward the door of the room. He opened his mouth to protest, but he was instantly stilled by the calm, gentle whisper in his ear.
"Elladan, you must calm yourself, ion-nín."
All of the tension seemed to leave the older son of Elrond's body at these words as he was brought out into the hallway. He felt one pair of arms fall away from him as he watched the guard hurry over to close the door and slide the lock back into place, alarmed, before he slowly turned to look back at his father, who still kept his hold on him.
"I... I apologize, Ada..." he murmured, instantly lowering his gaze again when the master of Imladris took his dagger from his loosened grasp. "I... I was not thinking..."
Elrond gave his eldest son a knowing look before he sighed and set his free hand on the side of the older twin's head. "I understand, penneth," he told him quietly. "All of our hearts are burdened with worry, and our judgement may be clouded. Which is why we must remain as calm as we are able and decide together what the best course of action to take is."
When Elladan said nothing in response, the Elf lord continued. "Glorfindel will be leading a patrol to cover the land your patrol has not. I have sent him to speak with Erestor in effort to attempt to dissuade him from the decision he has made, though knowing my chief advisor as I do, he will join us on the patrol." He paused, offering his son his weapon back when he saw he was calm enough to have no more intention of using it. "Should they be beyond the Imladris borders, then those regions shall be surveyed closely, also. I assure you, we will find Elrohir and Legolas."
Elladan gave his father a weak smile, accepting the smaller blade back before he slid it back into its sheath. "Hannon le," he whispered.
Elrond gave him a brief nod. "I have also spoken with Thranduil," Elrond told him. "He... he still recovers from the effects of the poison, and his own worry for his son is great. He is resting for a short time, and he has assured me he will aid us in any way he will be able with these patrols. I will also do as I am able, once I check on Estel, which I was on my way to do."
"Where is Estel?" Elladan wondered, noticing for the first time that the small mortal boy in question was not clinging to the Elf lord as he had been since Aeglironion had briefly taken him. He had also noticed a look he could not read in his father's eye when he had mentioned Thranduil, along with his noticeable hesitation, though he did not mention it.
A small smile appeared on the master of Imladris' fair face. "He is with Lindir," he explained. "I discovered him with our minstrel this morning, listening to his music."
A matching look appeared on the older twin's face. "That does not surprise me. I believe Lindir could do much good for Estel, for it would not be the first time he has soothed the souls of those in this house." But then, the cheerful look waned as a sigh escaped from him when he found he still could not fully meet his father's kind gaze. "I truly do apologize for my actions, Ada," he murmured. "I know not what I was thinking..."
Elrond gazed back at him both with understanding and with sorrow, and he reached out and wound his arms once more around his son as he pulled him close. "I am fearful for Elrohir, also," he admitted just as softly when he felt his son lean into him. "Though I am confident we will find him. I do not believe who took him truly desires harm to come to either him or Legolas."
Elladan winced before he looked up at the Elf lord. "Then what do they want, Ada?" he pressed. "Why would they take them?"
Elrond simply set a hand on the back of the older twin's head. "Let us concentrate on finding them, penneth."
His father was keeping something from him, that was clear to him. But Elladan knew better than to question him, and instead, his gray gaze traveled downward as the pain in his ribs once again flared. "Do you believe Elrohir to be all right?" he wondered hesitantly.
Elrond took a moment to consider his answer, carefully lowering Elladan's head to his shoulder and holding it there. All he could feel from his youngest son was dread, pain, and, deeper than that, fear. "I pray so, ion-nín."
Then, the Elf lord glanced behind him when the sound of hurried footsteps approached, and he loosened his grasp on his oldest son when Elladan took a step back from him as they both watched who they recognized to be a member of the younger Elf's patrol running toward them. "What is the meaning of this?" Elrond asked, keeping his tone formal despite the dread he felt when he saw the clear fear on the soldier's face.
The dark-haired Elf took only a moment to catch his breath before holding his hands out toward them. "We... we found this, hir-nín... in the forest..." he answered.
Elrond knew before he even looked at what the guard was offering him that it was not something he would want to see. He both felt and heard the breath leave Elladan's body as he wavered from beside him, and after taking and releasing a steady breath of his own, the lord of Rivendell lowered his gray eyes to the object in the other Elf's hands.
His blood ran cold.
Glorfindel walked down the hall at a swift pace, his light gaze set intently ahead of him. Erestor kept in pace beside him as he finished securing his daggers around his slim waist, though it was an action the Balrog Slayer wished he could ignore as he chanced a glance at his companion. The chief advisor's stern features were impassive, unreadable. Though he could tell by the way Erestor's jaw was set firmly and the slight droop to his shoulders despite the way he held his head high that the added weight of the daggers, and all that came with them, was immense. However, it did not slow his step, nor did it dim the determination in his dark gaze. Though he admired the slender advisor for his loyalty to Elrond, which was strong enough to cause him to revert to that part of him in his past that he both despised and feared, Glorfindel was also determined to help the person he considered to be his most trusted friend carry that weight if he was needed.
After a moment, Erestor glanced back over at the twice-born warrior. "What is it?" he asked, somewhat irritably as they hurried around a corner. Though it was easy to tell the feeling was not genuine.
However, Glorfindel simply shook his head. "'Tis nothing to be concerned about," he answered, his tone quiet as he attempted to keep it offhand.
Though he came to an abrupt halt when the chief advisor did, his light eyes widening slightly in surprise as his smaller companion turned to face him. There was a look he couldn't quite read in his gaze. "What is the matter?"
Erestor's eyes narrowed slightly as he studied the Balrog Slayer's bemused features. "You are not still planning to attempt to dissuade me to make a different decision?" he wondered, almost accusingly.
Despite himself, the golden-haired warrior grinned before letting out a deep chuckle. "Your allegation pains me deeply, mellon-nín," he told him lightly as he set a hand over his heart, even though it was the very feat he wished he could accomplish. The cheerful look waned ever so slightly. "I would not dare."
A moment passed before the chief advisor's features softened as he let out the breath he hadn't fully realized he had been holding. "The blame would not be yours if you were to," he muttered. His gaze faltered before he lowered it, and he hesitated before continuing. "There is a part of me still... a part of me that does not..."
Glorfindel reached out and set a had on the dark-haired Elf's shoulder, causing him to pause in his musings. "I understand," he assured him, all traces of his former humor gone. "Erestor, there is no need for you to–!"
"I did give Elrond my word," Erestor reminded him, his voice regaining some of its usual authority as he raised his gaze to his. He had to admit, even if only to himself, that he found the other Elf's presence comforting.
The Balrog Slayer allowed a half-smile to return to his face. How well he recognized the workings of his friend's constantly active mind as it attempted to retain some semblance of control and order. "Aye, that you did," he agreed quietly as he lowered his hand. "Although..."
However, his words trailed off when approaching footsteps could be heard, and both he and the chief advisor turned in time to watch one of the fair-haired Mirkwood guards who had accompanied Thranduil and Legolas to Imladris hurry around the corner. Surprise appeared on the younger Elf's face as he came to a sudden stop and straightened his posture at the sight of them.
"My apologies, Lord Glorfindel. Lord Erestor," he said, bowing his head to each of them in turn.
Glorfindel and Erestor briefly exchanged amused looks when the guard's gaze was lowered before they forced their features to return to being impassive as they turned back to face him. "Peace, there has been no harm done," the former told him, causing the new arrival to breathe a quiet sigh of apparent relief as his shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. "Though may I ask where you were going in such haste?"
The Woodland guard nodded once. "I was searching for Lord Elrond, or for yourself, Lord Glorfindel," he explained, causing the Balrog Slayer to arch an eyebrow. "I wished to speak with you, though I feared I may have been too late."
The twice-born warrior once again glanced at the chief advisor before he turned back to the guard. "We were on our way to speak with Lord Elrond ourselves," he said. "Though what you wish to say may be said to me first. I am afraid it must be brief, though what is it that you need to speak to me about?"
"I wish to join the patrol to search for Prince Legolas and Lord Elrond's son," the younger Elf told them without hesitation. "Please accept my sword."
A moment of silence passed before Erestor cleared his throat and spoke up. "I know we have spoken on one occasion as you are the head of the Mirkwood patrol, shortly after one of our own guards deceived your king," he muttered, noticing how the other Elf's jaw clenched at the memory from a few days before. "Though I am afraid I do not recall your name."
"'Tis Tidurian, Lord Erestor."
"Tidurian," the chief advisor repeated with a hint of a smile before continuing, "I appreciate your willingness to aid us, as well as your king. Though would your sword not be better suited to him?"
At these words, Tidurian briefly, though noticeably, hesitated. "I beg your pardon, hir-nín, though it was my king who suggested I speak with Lord Glorfindel and Lord Elrond about joining the patrol to search for them," he replied quietly.
Glorfindel looked back at Erestor with a slight shrug, merely receiving an impatient gesture and glare in return. The golden-haired warrior then turned back to the guard. "I cannot place any fault on you for desiring to search for your prince," he told him. "Therefore, I accept your sword. Though you may accompany us to speak with Lord Elrond, for his word will have final authority."
Relief crossed Tidurian's youthful features as he bowed his head deeply. "Hannon le, Lord Glorfindel."
A smile appeared on the Balrog Slayer's face as he nodded once in return. He then glanced back at Erestor, who read the silent message in the look before he turned and began to make his way down the hall, before regarding Tidurian carefully. "I am aware that King Thranduil has been told by Lord Elrond to rest to regain some of his strength before he joins us on the patrol, though I presume he has also sent you to help aid us," he said. His eyes narrowed slightly when the younger Elf's gaze noticeably faltered. "Though I must ask you, is there something you have not told me?"
Tidurian's breath caught in his chest under the intense, knowing gaze of Glorfindel. His mind frantically raced as he debated about what he could say, remembering what Thranduil had told him not long before as he left on his own.
"I would appreciate if you spoke nothing of this conversation to anyone... If I had another option, I would take it..."
Though he had nothing but tremendous respect for the twice-born warrior before him, his loyalty, above all else, was to his king. It was with that thought in mind that Tidurian slowly shook his head, his gaze remaining steady as he met Glorfindel's. "Nay, hir-nín," he murmured. "There is nothing."
A throbbing pain pulsed through Legolas' skull from where he was being held in place by a couple of the Elves who were aiding Máfortion. Elrohir was being held by the other right beside him, his lithe form trembling slightly while his face was void of all color as he struggled to keep himself upright. Though he was concerned for the younger twin, the prince's horrified gaze could hold nothing other than the sight before him.
The dark, gnarled trees swayed menacingly around them, and he could hardly see the tall, proud figure that stood before them since they were engulfed by the heavy shadows of the forest. Though he did not need to rely on his sight to know who this figure was. In his heart, he knew.
Then, a second figure, nearly as dark as the shadows that had once hidden him, approached the first, and Legolas attempted to fight out of the hold of the Elves behind him when Thranduil was forced to his knees on the hard ground. Now that the thick darkness was no longer concealing him, the prince's breath caught in his chest when he saw his father clearly.
The vibrancy that seemed to emanate from the king had greatly dimmed. His face was pale and gaunt. A few of his slender, ringed fingers appeared to be dislocated. Deep crimson stained his light tunic as well as matted his golden hair. Dark bruises marked his often stern yet fair features. A fresh, thin scar that ran through his left eye forced it to remain closed. His crown, or rather what remained of it, lay broken beside him, though one golden leaf continued to cling to it.
Yet, despite his beaten body, Thranduil still possessed a certain strength, a certain grace, within him that did not reflect all the brutality he had endured while in captivity. His shoulders remained straight, his head held high. His right eye remained clear and alert, revealing the pride he still carried himself with that refused to allow him to be broken. It was the king, the father, Legolas knew so well and who had his complete devotion.
The prince's gaze then traveled to the figure behind Thranduil, his eyes narrowing as Máfortion stepped nearer to his father, his clear green eye gleaming as a smirk appeared at the corner of his lips. He reached out and traced his fingertips lightly over the king's cheek before brushing a few loose strands of his fair hair out of his face.
The black-haired Elf then turned to another figure beside him, and Legolas nervously watched as Aeglironion looked back at both him and his father hesitantly. In his hands was a dagger with a curved, broad blade stained with hints of blood. Máfortion held a hand out to him expectantly, though the former cook's eyes widened with horror as he briefly shook his head and held the weapon closer to him.
Suddenly, a loud sound was heard from the thick trees behind them, and Legolas glanced at Elrohir, seeing the same fear was on his face, as they both quickly tried to look to see what had made the noise. The three Elves who were holding them even appeared wary as they shifted uncomfortably, also trying to find the source of the sound. It was somewhat close by, and it almost sounded as though it had been some sort of guttural yell while the trees groaned.
They were not alone.
However, Máfortion and Thranduil both seemed to be unperturbed by the disturbance, and taking advantage of how Aeglironion was also appearing uneasy and distracted, the former reached out and snatched the dagger from his loosened grasp. The prince quickly turned back in time to see Máfortion set the weapon's blade against his father's throat in a threatening manner, though Thranduil did not flinch. Legolas attempted to fight out of his captors' hold once again, and he nearly succeeded before the pounding in his temples caused him to pause and allowed Eruantien and Suiauthon to regain their tight grip on him to prevent him from reaching the king.
Máfortion's lips were moving, the words going unheard by Legolas as he continued to struggle, though he could see in the dark-haired Elf's arrogant features that he was taunting Thranduil. His father, however, was defiant in his silence, keeping his gaze straight ahead and his features remaining impassive.
But then, Thranduil's right eye landed directly on his son, and the intensity of the look in his gaze caused Legolas' breath to catch once again. There was determination there, as well as acceptance. But beneath that, there was also something more, and the prince felt a thin line of tears form in his eyes as he stilled when he realized it was meant as a silent apology for him.
Seeming to grow impatient by his captive's lack of response, Máfortion grasped onto Thranduil's hair and forced his head forward as he tightened his other hand around the dagger's hilt.
The last golden leaf broke off the Woodland king's crown and drifted to the ground before being taken by the wind and swallowed up by the shadows of the trees.
All Legolas could hear in that moment as time seemed to stand still, as a light and warmth inside of him flickered and died, was his own agonized and rage-filled scream echoing in his ears.
As the pounding in his temples forced him toward consciousness, the first thing Legolas was completely aware of was the single tear that trailed down his cheek from behind his closed eyes before being absorbed by the dark cloth wrapped tightly around his head. He took a deep, shuddering breath, unable to fully let it out.
A nightmare, that was all it had been. A terrible nightmare. Though as his heart continued to race as he attempted to catch his breath, he was beginning to doubt his own convictions. The emptiness inside of him, along with the fury and the despair, that he had felt by the end of the dream had felt so real that even now, he could feel his heart almost physically shattering. It was a feeling he could not express, for he had never expected to experience it, nor did he want to ever truly experience it. It was something that shook him to his very core, and the final image of Thranduil was one he knew would continue to haunt him.
Though now, he knew beyond a doubt just what it was that Máfortion truly desired from his father.
A whispered chuckle was heard close to his ear then, causing the prince to tense. "It is all right, ernil," the voice of one of his captors murmured, his very tone taunting him. "It will not be long now before we arrive. And then we shall see if your father is as noble as he would have us believe."
His words caused a tremor to pass through Legolas' body. There was an underlying warning in those words, much as he felt there had been a warning in the dream he had woken from. It had felt much too real. Though as he was becoming a bit more conscious of his surroundings, he felt that they were still on horseback and moving swiftly. His hands were still bound before him, and his entire body was stiff as though they had been riding nonstop for a long time. He had to wonder just how long they had been riding, through judging by how he felt, it had been hours.
And though he could not see, the air felt different somehow, almost thicker. Heavier. It was with a sense of dread that he realized they had left the borders of Imladris.
Though Legolas also found that he was struggling to think clearly, for the dream he'd had was refusing to leave his memory. The haunting images of his father, the strange force that had been in the trees, the dark forest itself, the indescribable pain that had erupted in his chest when...
"I will always come for you, ion-nín..."
They were familiar words that Thranduil had spoken to him more than once, and though he had always found comfort in them before, they now gave him an unshakable feeling of fear and dread. The prince attempted to settle both his breathing and his heartbeat, focusing only on the strong, kind features of his father– the features he had known for as long as he had lived, not the pale, bruised face he had seen in his nightmare.
"Ada... saes... do not come for me... I beg of you..."
The familiar feeling of warmth and light in his heart flickered, though it still remained as strong as ever.
Then, Legolas heard as the horses they were taking began to shuffle nervously as they continued to draw nearer to their destination. Where were they heading? All he could see in his mind's eye were dark, gnarled trees looming before them, ready to enfold them in their shadow before that image began to dim.
"Saes... Ada... do not come..."
It was the last thought on his mind before darkness once again engulfed him.
The sun was slowly beginning its downward trek from its peak in the sky as Thranduil rode swiftly through the trees. It had been a couple of hours since he had retrieved his white horse from the stables behind the gates of Rivendell, and though his steed had seemed hesitant to leave as though feeling what was now ahead for them, the king had finally coaxed him to depart. Though he had been riding for as long as he had already, he was well aware that he had a considerable distance to cover yet, as well as that Máfortion had gained much ground over him with his son and Elrohir and may have been nearly approaching their destination. It was that thought of Legolas, the pain and dread he could feel from him, and the desire to not allow him to stay with Máfortion for long that caused him to spur his horse forward at a bit of a faster pace.
As the trees continued to flash by him in a blur, the Woodland king found his thoughts swayed away from his purpose and instead started to linger on moments he had shared with Legolas through the years. They were ones that had always held special significance to him, and they were ones that would continue to do so for as long as he lived, no matter how relatively short of a time that may now prove to be.
They were thoughts and memories that brought peace to his heavily burdened heart.
He stared at the bundle wrapped in blankets held securely in Helinniel's arms, lingering back from the bed even though he had been told by the midwife that everything had gone well. She looked up at him and smiled, and despite how pale her face was and how exhausted she appeared, the true joy radiating in her features made her just as beautiful as always to him.
"Come, Thranduil," she murmured. "Come hold your son."
His son. He looked back at his wife uncertainly for a moment before he slowly approached the bed and lowered himself to sit beside her. Helinniel's smile lingered as she held the bundle toward him, and he hesitated before he reached his hands out and carefully took what she offered him into his own arms. He was surprised by how lightweight and how small the baby was as he cradled him close to him for support, and he used a couple ringed fingers to pull the blanket a bit further away from his child's face.
It was not the first time he had seen a newborn Elfling, though this time was stunningly different. He felt as his breath left him as he gazed down in wonder at the smooth features of his son, which to him resembled the queen's gentle ones, while his eyes remained closed in peaceful sleep. His light eyes passed over the faint traces of fair hair on top of his head before he slowly ran a fingertip tenderly over the tiny ones of the Elfling that gripped the blanket wrapped around him. His heart, which had been racing in anticipation of this moment, began to slow, finally reaching a point where it beat in time with the child's in his arms. His child.
Tears formed in his eyes as a broad smile spread across his face before he leaned down and lightly pressed his lips to the top of his son's head. A couple escaped and trailed down his cheeks when the small Elfling made a quiet sound of content in his sleep, and he closed his eyes and carefully held him closer.
There had never been a moment of greater joy that Thranduil had ever experienced in his life than when he had held Legolas in his arms for the very first time. Never before had he loved someone so completely and so much more than his own life, never before had he desired to protect someone so fiercely. A slight smile tugged at the corner of his lips despite himself as he guided the horse to leap over a couple of protruding tree roots as he continued to follow the path. Though that feeling of pure joyousness had never been matched, the wonder he had felt at being a father and raising a child had never ceased as his son continued to grow.
He let out a long, weary breath as he rubbed his burning eyes from where he sat behind his desk in his study. Neither he nor Helinniel had slept much the previous night, for Legolas had not slept well and had been continually calling out for them in the night. There had been nothing wrong with him, which was fortunate; he had simply had a restless night, as though there had been something in the dark that had frightened him. Though, exhausted or not, that season's financial reports were not going to complete themselves.
A quiet sound of frustration caused a small smirk to appear on his face as he raised his gaze. The look broadened when he spotted the small form of Legolas sitting on the floor beside a sturdy cushioned chair not too far from the desk. Helinniel had been summoned by her mother to aid her with a life-threatening injury suffered by one of their soldiers in the healing ward, so he had offered for their young son to stay with him for the afternoon. A quiet chuckle escaped from him when he saw clear disappointment in the Elfling's smooth features as he gazed intently at the chair.
"Try once more, tithen pen," he suggested. He could not deny that after the long morning full of paperwork, this little distraction was most welcome. After much observation of his parents, Legolas had recently been attempting to walk much like they did, though he had not had much success. All he had been able to accomplish yet had been to pull himself into a standing position with support, and Helinniel had guided him to take a few steps, though he had not been able to do so on his own without her hand.
Legolas turned his head at the sound of his father's deep, timbre voice, and he held out a small hand toward him. "Ada!"
"Yes, ion-nín," he said with a smile. "Come, try once more."
The little prince, seeming to understand the king's words, turned back to the chair with fresh determination in his eyes. He reached out with both hands and grasped the cushion, starting to pull himself to his feet as he mumbled under his breath.
He set his quill aside, his eyes on his son with interest. Legolas held onto the chair tightly, attempting to find his balance, before looking back at his father. After a nod of reassurance, he took one tentative step and then another, though he still had yet to release his support.
A moment passed before the Elfling took one more cautious step before slowly releasing the chair. He held his breath as he watched Legolas waver and nearly fall, a look of panic in his youthful features, before he caught himself by setting one tiny hand on the floor to push himself back up. The prince wavered once more before slowly taking one step forward, and then another. And then another.
A broad smile appeared on his face as he watched his son making his way toward his desk with ungainly steps, having to stop a few times to regain his balance or to rest. Legolas then looked up at him, mirroring the look as an excited giggle escaped from him before he took a couple quicker steps forward and nearly stumbled. He swiftly rose to his feet and walked around his desk, bending over and catching the Elfling before he could hit the floor. He then effortlessly scooped him up into his arms and held him close, chuckling himself when the little prince snuggled into his chest and babbled happily into his robes.
Thranduil could clearly recall the feeling of pride he had experienced on that day, as well as the excitement of being able to witness the prince's first major steps as he continued to grow. From that point, it had seemed as though his growth had accelerated, and there had been times where he had felt as though he could no longer keep in pace with Legolas. This feeling had been especially prevalent after Helinniel had died, and he had been left to raise their son alone. Though it had been these moments with the energetic Elfling that had aided his own heart to heal.
A small smile appeared on his face as he watched Legolas hesitantly reach out and run his hand along the length of the long nose of his white horse in the stables. "Are you certain you wish to attempt to ride him, ion-nín?"
The young prince quickly looked back at him, and for a moment, there was an anxious flicker in his wide blue eyes. Though it was gone as soon as it had appeared, replaced instead by a look of excitement. "Aye, Ada!" he answered brightly.
"Very well." He approached the horse himself and whispered into his ear, urging him to be gentle with the small rider, before guiding his steed out of the stables to a small clearing with Legolas hurrying to keep in step with them. He quickly secured the saddle around the horse before he leaned over and picked up his son, situating him carefully in it.
"Be cautious, tithen pen," he stated, watching as the prince took tight hold of the reins. "We will not go too swiftly."
"All right, Ada." Legolas grinned broadly when his father began to lead the horse forward, laughing a little as he gripped the reins a bit tighter.
The cheerful sound from his son caused another smile to return to his face as he continued to lead the horse around the clearing. He glanced up at the prince, seeing his eyes were shining as he looked at the trees around them. It was a look of excitement from the Elfling he knew would always be imprinted on his memory.
Aside from how much joy that afternoon had brought both him and Legolas, it had also been the first time he had realized just how fearless his little Greenleaf truly was. He had been momentarily distracted by Aearion finding them to discuss a brief trade matter that had immediately needed either his approval or objection, and the prince had taken off on the horse on his own at a bit of a quicker pace than they had been going. Both he and his chief advisor had panicked, though the king's horse had, as instructed, been gentle with his young rider, and Legolas had been perfectly safe.
Though as Thranduil continued to guide his horse along the forest path, his keen gaze on the lookout for any member of Elladan's patrol which was still searching for any sign of both the prince and Elrohir so he could avoid them if possible, he also remembered how it had not felt like long at all before Legolas had begun to start shedding that childhood innocence as he continued to mature.
Legolas slowly raised the bow and narrowed his eyes slightly as he pulled back on the drawstring. A moment passed before he released the arrow, and he sighed with disappointment as he lowered the bow when the point didn't hit near the center of the target he had been aiming for. He then hesitantly glanced over his shoulder at where his father was watching him a little distance away on the training grounds.
"It is all right, ion-nín," he said as he approached the disgruntled prince. "You simply need to adjust your aim." He smiled encouragingly as he reached out and set a ringed hand on top of his son's head before offering him another arrow. This was the weapon that Legolas had been most excited to learn how to use when his training had begun, so he could understand the disappointment he was feeling at not having a solid handle on it yet. Though it was only his first attempt, so he also knew he could not be too harsh on himself.
Sighing, Legolas took the arrow he was offered and positioned it carefully on the bow as he pulled back on the drawstring once again. "How is my aim, Ada?" he asked.
He once again stepped closer to his son, his light gaze tracing over his stance, draw, and position. "'Tis better," he answered, carefully raising his arms only a little more. "There. See if that is better for you, penneth."
The prince nodded once as he focused on his target, narrowing his eyes once again before he released the arrow. A broad smile appeared on his face when this one was much nearer to the center, and a similar look spread across his face as he met his son's excited gaze.
Thranduil could not have been more proud of Legolas as he continued to observe his progress during his training. The prince had grown more comfortable with his blade work as time had passed as well, though where he had truly excelled after his initial attempt was with his bow. Over time, the prince's skill with the weapon grew to be unrivaled by anyone in his service, even before he had officially earned the position of being a warrior in his ranks.
Though the day that his son had earned that title had been one of the proudest, though most bittersweet, days of his life, as well as one that he would always remember.
He took a few strands of his son's long, fair hair in his slender fingers, hesitating for the briefest moment before he began to weave them together. A broad smile of excitement formed on Legolas' face as he felt his father's gentle hands work. The road had not been short, nor had it been simple, though all of the training he had received in order to become a warrior of Mirkwood in the king's service had been worth it.
The first plait was completed, and he deftly began on the second. He could feel the prince's anticipation building, and a small smile appeared on his own face as he continued to braid these few strands of hair. The closer he came to finishing, the more his heart was filled with pride, yet it also grew heavier.
Finally, the second plait was completed, and he set a light hand on Legolas' shoulder with a quiet sigh. The prince eagerly turned around to face him, the grin still lighting up his youthful features, and met his gaze. He then quickly dipped his head in respect to the king, an action which was returned before he rested his other hand on the younger Elf's head.
No longer was his little Elfling standing before him. Now his son was a true soldier in his forces.
He had no doubt that Legolas would do him proud.
Thranduil knew that his feeling from that day had been correct; never once had the prince caused him to lose his pride in him. There had been some mistakes he had made as he rose to the rank of captain in Mirkwood's defenses, though more often than not, he had proven that he was worthy of the warrior plaits he had been given to wear as he continued to mature. There were times he missed the small Elfling who would come to him for every need, though he could be no prouder of his Greenleaf than he was.
The king's ringed hands tightened around the reigns of his horse as he guided him around a few tree branches that were hanging low over the path. The image of Máfortion's piercingly green eye flashed through his mind, and he spurred his steed forward with a little more speed. He knew he should have expected the black-haired Elf to attempt to lure him to him through Legolas, though he had not done enough to prevent it. Guilt and dread grasped his heart. He could not bear to think of what Máfortion would do should he be provided the opportunity, though he would do all in his power to ensure that both his son and Elrohir were safe. The other Elf's hatred was his to bear, for the prince was innocent and had no hand in whatever ill Máfortion had with both him and Oropher.
Though this thought caused Thranduil's brow to furrow. His father... What could his father have possibly done to cause Máfortion's strong hatred toward him? What had happened to cause the rift that had formed between them, that had caused the former Greenwood soldier to attempt to kill his king, that had caused the anger and resentment to linger and now be his? He remembered asking Oropher these kind of questions while he yet lived, though he had never received an answer to them. Though maybe now he would be able to get the answers he wanted...
"Ada..."
Thranduil gasped quietly, slowing his horse almost to a stop before he urged him to keep going when he heard the whispered, nearly silent voice and familiar presence brush against his mind. Legolas. The voice had sounded weary, yet determined. There was something else in that single word, also. An anxiety, pleading with him... a warning.
Though the Woodland king had no more time to think about what his son had been trying to convey to him when he felt another presence not too far in front of him before he heard the sound of a restless horse. Thranduil slowed his own to a steady pace, knowing who it would be even before he saw him as he rounded the thick tree on the path before him. He then brought his horse to a stop when he was met with a familiar brown-haired Elf.
Anessen smirked when he looked back at the king. "I knew you would come, Thranduil."
The silver of Elrohir's circlet gleamed in the light of the deepening sun where it sat on the desk in Elrond's study. The Elf lord himself let out a long, weary breath as his gray eyes scanned the dented headpiece, his concern for his youngest son lingering from when the member of the twins' patrol had presented him with it. Elrohir's presence felt as though it was getting further away from him, causing his anxiety to rise. His gaze then moved back to the map he had been poring over, focusing on the area the soldier had told him they had found the circlet in while mentally erasing ones outside of it.
"From what we have been told by reports from Elladan and Elrohir's patrol, there has been no indication of any movement in the forests here," Glorfindel stated from where he was studying another map with Erestor, pointing to a few areas of the trees surrounding Imladris to the south. "Nor nothing here." He gestured to the area directly to the north.
"And the weapons belonging to Elrohir and Legolas were discovered somewhere around here, not far from our gates," Erestor added, pointing to an area slightly beneath the Balrog Slayer's finger a bit more to the west. He sighed and briefly shook his head. "Who Aeglironion has been taking orders from is certainly not making our efforts to track them difficult, as it appears they are taking a straight path out of the valley."
Glorfindel's eyes flickered. "That is not usually a positive indication," he murmured, meeting Erestor's gaze.
Elladan glanced up from the third map of the areas surrounding Rivendell that he was looking over. Tidurian, having had his sword accepted by Elrond, lingered a bit back from the older twin, though close enough to be able to see the map as well. "So you are saying they are desiring us to find them?" the former asked. "Why would they after taking Elrohir and Legolas?"
"They could be meaning to ensnare us, or there is something else they desire," Glorfindel answered quietly, looking over at Elladan. "If that is the situation at hand, Elrohir and Legolas are merely a means to getting what it is they truly want. I would assume they have little consequence to Aeglironion and those who are aiding him, though that also means they are expendable..." He paused at the sharp intake of breath from the older son of Elrond before giving him a reassuring smile. "Do not fret, we will find them, penneth."
"We are narrowing down on where they could be headed," Erestor told him. "All that is left is for us to determine what it is they desire."
Elrond sighed as he rose to his feet from behind his desk and turned to the window overlooking the valley. "'Tis Thranduil," he murmured, his gray gaze passing over the trees that stretched out before him. "As he believed..."
Glorfindel, Erestor, and Elladan all looked at the master of Rivendell curiously while Tidurian stiffened and lowered his eyes to the floor. "Thranduil?" the chief advisor repeated. "I know that is what he believed to be so, though what purpose does taking Elrohir serve?"
A moment passed before Elrond glanced over his shoulder to meet his gaze. "I feel that was meant to distract us from the situation at hand," he explained. His brow furrowed as he turned to Glorfindel, for he had been absent when they had talked over the situation they faced before. "Thranduil and I have discussed this matter further. It would appear that Aeglironion has been forced to act against us by another, though for what purpose, I am not certain. Though by what Thranduil has told me, Máfortion was a friend of Oropher's as well as a soldier in his service when he was chosen to be king of Greenwood. Though something had happened to sever their relationship, something that caused Máfortion to attempt to assassinate Oropher. The attempt, of course, was unsuccessful, though it resulted in Máfortion's banishment. Thranduil is unaware of what Oropher could have potentially done to cause this resentment, though we believe Máfortion's recent actions have resulted from that. Taking Legolas, and even poisoning you, Glorfindel, have been messages to him, for this hatred for Thranduil's family still lingers. I believe that taking Elrohir was a means to keep me distracted from what he intends to do, as we could threaten that."
"So it would not have been too difficult for Aeglironion to have come across this Máfortion upon his own banishment," the twice-born warrior said as he mulled this information over, his gaze darkening at the mention of the poisoned dart. He ran his hand over the back of his neck, causing Erestor to turn to him with a watchful gaze. "His own bitterness could have resulted in him agreeing to Máfortion's plan, though what power does he have over Aeglironion to force him to act?"
The Elf lord shook his head once. "That is what we must discover if we mean to prevent it." He then turned his gaze back to his chief advisor. "Would you see if Thranduil is rested enough to meet with us?"
"Of course." Erestor dipped his head briefly before he cast one more pointed glance to Glorfindel. Feeling the look, the Balrog Slayer looked back at him and gave him a small but reassuring smile. Sighing, the slender Elf turned and began to make his way toward the door of the study.
"I feel as though they have already passed beyond our borders," Elrond murmured thoughtfully to himself, his eyes narrowing as he turned back to the map spread out on his desk. "So we must focus on those possibilities. I still do not feel that they would venture far since it is Thranduil they desire, and in his condition..." The rest of his words went unspoken, but they were still understood by all.
Tidurian's brow furrowed as he suddenly leaned a bit closer to the map Elladan held. "Where were their weapons discovered?" he asked. When the older twin pointed to the trees a little west from where Imladris' gates were located, his gaze traced along a path that led past the Ford of Bruinen and beyond the borders. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth. "Do you believe it could be possible they would bring them to–!"
However, his wonderings were abruptly cut off when a loud clatter was heard, and he, Elladan, and Glorfindel all immediately looked up while Erestor stopped in the doorway and quickly turned to face the window. Elrohir's circlet had fallen to the floor, and Elrond was leaning heavily on the desk, his knuckles white as he kept a tight hold on the wooden surface while his lithe form trembled slightly. His face was growing paler, and his gray eyes were faraway, the telltale sign that he was seeing something beyond what was before him.
The Elf lord felt his breath coming raggedly, though all of his focus was on the brief snippets of images passing before his vision that had begun after his hand had lightly brushed against his son's headpiece, attempting to grasp onto them.
Dark trees with gnarled branches loomed all around him, covering the ground in shadow. A fair-haired Elf was on the ground beside a dark-haired one, shadow engulfing them in a small, suffocating space. The single remaining golden leaf clinging to the Woodland king's broken crown shuddered before breaking off, drifting to the ground before being swallowed by the surrounding shadow. A blade stained with blood was held in the air. A familiar anguished cry echoed in his ears. A low, guttural yell shook the trees...
Elrond felt himself waver as his eyes widened. His legs began to grow weak beneath him.
A giant, dirtied hand pinned him to the thick trunk of one of the looming, gnarled trees, crushing him...
His breath caught as his lungs seemed to contract, leaving him unable to take another one. Pain spread through his chest as his heart seemed to struggle to beat before wavering and then feeling as though it had stopped completely. His vision darkened. His legs collapsed from underneath him, and he closed his eyes as he began to fall.
"Elrond!"
Glorfindel rushed around the desk and caught his friend before he could hit the floor, carefully bringing him close to support him as he knelt. Erestor dropped down to the ground beside him, reaching out and setting a hand on the Elf lord's arm while Elladan and Tidurian hurried over, the former kneeling on the Balrog Slayer's other side as he looked into his father's pale face with horror.
"Ada!"
A moment passed before Elrond took a deep breath as his eyes slowly fluttered open. The pain in his chest subsided as his breathing began to ease, though he still felt weak and shaken from what he had seen and experienced.
"Ada... Ada was fighting, and... and a twowl huwt him bad... His eyes wewen't opening..."
Estel's earlier words from when he had told Lindir about his dream echoed in his mind, and Elrond closed his eyes once again as he focused on settling his breathing and racing heart. It was now clear to him just what searching for his son may cost him, though he also knew he could not abandon him. He would not leave Elrohir.
"Elrond, are you all right?" Glorfindel asked, his concern clear in his slightly wavering tone despite how he attempted to keep it steady. Erestor tightened his hand on his arm in a comforting way.
"Ada, speak to us," Elladan urged. "What happened? What did you see?"
Another moment passed before Elrond slowly opened his eyes, his weary gaze passing over the four worried faces above him. Though surprise replaced the looks when he spoke.
"I know where they have been taken."
Author's Note: All righty, that's it for this one! Elladan's struggling with what's happening to Elrohir, Legolas is having disturbing dreams, Thranduil's about to enter a situation that couldn't possibly turn out well for him, and Elrond is seeing equally disturbing things as Legolas (As evil as I am with this story, it did make me sad to pseudo kill off the king of Mirkwood and the lord of Imladris in one chapter, lol. I adore both of them, I swear!). Though Elrond does know where Legolas and Elrohir are... Do you guys have any guesses? Don't worry, it'll be revealed in the next chapter! And I'm also curious about the question that has been raised about Tidurian's character by a couple of you guys after that near memory Thranduil had in the last chapter. Is he a traitor? Or something more? We'll have to wait to find out for sure just what sort of role he plays ;) I think that's all from me at this point. Thanks for reading! See you guys next time!