A/N: Just a simple and massive thank you to everyone who has reviewed and followed so far – I'm glad you are enjoying this and thank you for the tips and suggestions. I really am grateful and it makes my day. So again hannon-le for taking the time out to review!

Faervel watched as the last of the blood on his hands swirled round in the water before being totally washed away in the fast flowing stream. He kept his now clean hands in the cool water and closed his tired eyes for just a moment – just a moment to gather himself and his strength was all he needed.

For he was tired, it had been exhausting, energy draining work keeping both Hadril and Arasson in the land of the living especially during the short trek back to the Wood. Still they were back here now – had made camp, set guards and he had finally been able to tend to all of his fellow warriors injuries. Faervel gave a small sigh – they were in a bad way – Arasson had been stabbed and then his inert body had been shown no care and as a result not only had he lost a lot of blood through the stab wound but he was covered in numerous cuts and bruises. He had shown no signs of awakening at all.

Hadril's case was just as worrying she had a cut along her right temple along with a huge blue-ish lump. Clearly she had been hit on the head – and hard. She too had been cut and bruised during her time held captive with the men and she also showed no signs of returning to consciousness. In fact Faervel could feel her fëa begin to fade – he was really worried about Hadril; and more than anything he was worried about his ability to keep both his charges from Mandos Halls. He was tired – he had spent much healing energy with no rest for himself – and they were still so far from the Stronghold or even any of the elven villages. They needed help.

Faervel stood removing his now cold hands from the water – he had been away from Hadril and Arasson for too long now. He re-entered their camp which was under as heavy a guard as they could muster with Feren, Magoldir and Camaendir all on guard duty. Aithel would join them once Faervel was back to look after their stricken comrades. Thoron himself kept a keen eye on their prisoners.

Faervel glanced over at the men, there were four of them in all…now. There had been six of them to begin with but two had given such a great amount of trouble that with only a small amount of regret Faervel had put a swift end to them slitting their throats and silencing them forever. The rest of the men had been much more co-operative after that – including the one who claimed to know where to find Legolas. Faervel sat down as he relieved Aithel mulling over what the man had told them earlier. He wondered how true the man's story was.

The man had claimed that they had been hired by the Woodsmen from the Greater Village, the larger Woodsmen settlement, to capture elves for them and that they were to take all their elven captives back to the village. Yet that made no sense to him – the Woodsmen were a peaceable race of Men – long had they lived in Thranduil's kingdom under his protection – why would they now invoke his wrath by capturing his son and attacking his people? No the man had to be lying. Faervel decided that he would try to get the man to talk to him again and see if he could discern the truth of the matter. He was the most fluent of them all in Westron and he would be the one with the greatest chance of telling if the man really was speaking the truth about Legolas.

He beckoned to Thoron, "Bring that adan to me – I wish to see if I can get him to speak the absolute truth this time."

~o~

Meanwhile the troop due to replace Legolas' had finally arrived at the Southern Patrol base camp that morning. They had scouted out the area shortly after arriving finding it strange that Legolas' troop was nowhere in sight. They had no further time to dwell on that fact however as they discovered a small battalion of orcs hiding out amongst the dark decayed foliage and had thrown themselves straight into the fray. The Southern Patrol was never easy and it certainly didn't give you time to settle in.

~o~

Thranduil swept into the assembly hall pleased to see that both his war council and the two troops he had requested were all already gathered and standing to attention. Thranduil waved a hand at them ushering them to be at ease as he made his way to his own seat at the head of the long mahogany table. He looked down it at the faces of his generals, his Crown Commander, his secretary and Regent – somehow Arahaelon had managed to arrive here before Thranduil himself. Satisfied that everyone he needed to be here was here he wasted no further time.

"I thank you all for coming at such short notice and I shall get straight to the first point of business – Prince Legolas' troop came under attack by a group of Men – the warriors Hadril and Arasson as well as the Prince himself have all been taken captive -"

Whatever else Thranduil was planning to say was interrupted as there was a collective sharp intake of breath before frantic whisperings and murmurings broke out among the councilors and war veterans. They loved their Prince and the worry in their tones and on their faces was palpable. That was all well and good but they wasted time and Thranduil grabbed the heavy crystal goblet at his side and brought it down hard upon the table causing all noise to cease immediately and all eyes to be turned back upon him.

"Yes – as I was saying they were taken captive two nearly three days ago now and time is of the essence."

Thranduil turned to face both troops that stood ready for his command one he recognized as one of the Woodland realm's elite troops and the other one of the regular battalion troops. Thranduil cared not which regiment they belonged to – what he wanted were troops with exceptionally good trackers and if these were the two that Aglardaer picked then he would trust his friend's decision.

Thranduil inclined his head to them ever so slightly and they responded with a salute.

"You will both go to a clearing not overly far from Rhosgobel – it is popular with troops leaving the Southern Patrol?"

Thranduil raised an eyebrow and was relieved as all the warriors nodded that yes, they knew the place of which he spoke.

"Good – you will start your hunt there, find what tracks you may and pursue them. The captives are your priority – bring your fellows home as safely as you can. But," and here a cold hard light shone in Thranduil's eyes, "if you find any of these men try your best to bring them back alive – even if it is just the one. I would have a word with them if at all possible."

A collective shiver ran down the back of everyone in the room – they could imagine what kind of a 'word' their Liege Lord would be having with any of the Men unfortunate enough to be brought back.

Thranduil laid his right hand on his heart and gave a bow to both troops, "Le athae. Hortho le huil vaer."

The troops returned the bow before marching out from the assembly hall Aglardaer behind them presumably to give last minute instruction and guidance. Thranduil motioned for some water to be poured for him and he sipped it silently – if he still had any faith in any of the Valar he might have prayed but he had long lost his faith in them all so instead he cleared his mind and brought his focus to the next matter at hand. Yes, the small matter of a revolt by the yngyl that had invaded his land.

Aglardaer reappeared then and Thranduil put his glass down, "I will let Crown Commander Aglardaer enlighten you as to our second matter of business and the real reason the war council has been summoned."

Aglardaer stepped up then and relayed the threat and plot of the spiders in a far more composed way than he had done when he had first told Thranduil the news. Immediately the war council began their discussions – questioning Aglardaer in order to glean as much information from him as possible. At length Thranduil raised a hand effectively silencing them all.

"I wish for us to send several battalions, at least a quarter of the troops to the Mountains to deal with this threat before it arrives upon our doorstep."

One of the council members spoke up, "A quarter of the troops Aran-nin? Is that not a little excessive – surely the threat of the yngyl is not that great?"

"Yes my Liege," chimed in another, "perhaps we ought to send scouts up to the Mountains first – to give us a better idea of what we are facing."

"Nay," Thranduil was resolute, "Too long have we left the spawn of Ungoliant to roam freely and unchecked in the Mountains. No, I will not have the Shadow build another stronghold within our lands – we have enough trouble and evil coming out of the dread tower in the South. I will not have the Enemy's helpers build another one, this time even closer to our homes. We will send a quarter of the troops and they will crush every arachnid in their path so that if even one spiderling survives it will leave to tell any others that the elves of the Woodland realm are not easily intimidated by threats and plots. That we are not to be trifled with."

Command so forcefully given the councilors simply nodded their assent and proceeded to move on with the plotting and planning that such a large military exercise required.

~o~

Blacwin smiled at the elf in what he hoped was a truthful and honest looking manner. The dark haired being made no obvious sign as to whether or not it believed him but Blacwin really, really needed the elf to trust him – for that would be his only way out of this sticky predicament Aldred had left them in.

If he could get this elf to believe that the other elf they sought was being held in the Woodsmen village then he and the three remaining men with him would be saved. For Aldred had left a good number of men back at the village to guard against any of the Woodmen escaping and fleeing to get help from the elves. The men left back at the village would easily overpower these elves and set them free. Then perhaps they would all get a share of the riches initially promised after all with so many elves in their capture. That would really teach Aldred.

The jarring sound of metal scraping upon metal brought Blacwin's attention back to his present reality – bound by his hands and feet, standing in front of an elf bent on vengeance who just happened to be sharpening its knives at the present moment. The elf seemed to be thinking – perhaps mulling over everything he had said but Blacwin had no intention of standing here all night waiting for an answer. His leg ached and throbbed fiercely from where his stupid horse had fallen onto it and watching the elf sharpen its knives was getting to be quite unnerving.

"Well elf – I've told you the story twice now – are you so lacking in Westron that you need me to spell it out for you again?"

Blacwin shrunk back and even let his gaze fall from the elf's eyes to the ground as the elf pinned him with a sharp look for his flippant remark.

"Súlon gwanna nîf gín adan."

Blacwin jerked his head up to look at the elf confusion in his eyes.

The elf merely smiled at him big and wide, "I said you lie human."

Blacwin huffed as he tried to act indignant and not show just how much the elf's words had unsettled him.

"I'm not lying elf. Why would I? You have me captive don't ya?"

The elf tilted its head as though studying him before it smiled again – a small secretive smile and went back to sharpening it's knives before it spoke up again.

"I don't know why you lie adan but I know that you are lying. Perhaps it is because we have not maltreated you as you maltreat your own captives. Perhaps you simply do not fear me."

Here the elf paused in its work bringing one wickedly sharp and gleaming dagger up to eye level to inspect.

"You should fear me," a twirl of both knives, "but that is beside the point. The point is that you are lying – ever have the woods people been our allies, our friends – why would they turn upon us now?"

Blacwin floundered for he knew nothing of the relationship between the woodsmen and the elves save that he thought any man willing to live in such a cursed elf plagued place was a lunatic and as nutty as the elves themselves. He had simply taken a gamble by blaming the kidnappings on the woodsmen. He decided to press on nevertheless – he really needed to get the elf to believe him.

"Men are never truly your friends elf, you should learn that lesson well. The woodsmen have elected a new chief – one who is tired of your oppressive ways – one who means you harm. Whatever should happen to your blonde elf friend if you choose to ignore me telling you these truths will be upon your head. After all I offer you the chance to save him."

"And save him we shall."

With that the elf got up and made his way over to the edge of the camp giving a quick shrill whistle. Several of the other elves appeared and they began to converse in their strange melodic tongue. Blacwin couldn't understand a word of what they were saying but he felt as though he had finally got through to the elf as he watched two of them make their way across to the horses and begin to pack up.

Unable to stop the smile of sheer relief that appeared upon his face Blacwin crowed at the raven haired elf as it walked back towards him, "I see you've seen sense elf – I only hope you will be in time to rescue your friend from the hands of those barbarians."

With no warning at all the elf brought up his hand to land a stinging, painful slap hard across Blacwin's face.

"Remove that stupid grin human, for the only barbarians I see here are you and that miserable bunch of filth behind you. I know you lie to me and I am sending scouts out now to prove it – and when they have proven me right and you wrong you will wish that all I would do is slap you."

With that the elf turned his back to him and stalked over to where he was tending his two stricken comrades. Blacwin watched with unseeing eyes as the two scout elves mounted up and rode out of the camp before he was grabbed by impossibly strong arms and hauled back over to be tied back up to the tree with his fellow mercenaries.

He felt nothing as he was roughly shoved up against the bark and his bindings secured ever tighter. For he knew now that the game was up – any chance he had of escaping his fate – a painful death at the hands of these elves was now gone along with the elven scouts. For he knew what they would find – and it would condemn him and the last remnants of his men to death.

~o~

The Captain of the latest Southern Patrol held out her arm allowing the carrier hawk that had so suddenly appeared to land on her bracer. She smilingly stroked the birds head before untying the message strapped upon its leg.

With a gasp she hastily re-read the message before scrambling to write one of her own even as she gave commands to her troop - tired from a day's hard battle with the Darkness.

"We have a hunt upon our hands maethyr, our Prince and some of his troop have gone missing – attacked by Men. We are to help find them – more troops will be heading this way to aid in the hunt but it would be well for us to get a head start. Come, saddle up for we ride soon. Berio ven Eru."

It was not long before the carrier hawk took to the night blackened skies with a screech, new message secured to its leg.

And the troop who had been tired and longing for a quiet night's patrol were suddenly energized as they swiftly packed up camp removing all evidence of their having been there – for their Prince was in trouble and their King had a need of them. They would not let either down.

TBC.

Fëa – Soul (Quenya)

Adan – Man

Le athae – Literally: You are/were helpful/kind - Sindarin version of Thank you

Hortho le huil vaer – May useful winds speed you on

Yngyl – (Plural of Ungol) Spiders

Aran-nin - My King

Súlon gwanna nîf gín adan – A big wind pours from your mouth human

Maethyr – (plural) warriors

Berio ven Eru – May Eru protect us