Disclaimer: Not mine.
They searched everywhere. Legolas chivvied Rilluin into Elrohir an Elladan's tent, where they had been babysitting Liana for the evening. The twins had tried to question Legolas, but the blonde elf had raced out of the room before he could answer more than a few words. They searched every tent, alerting every guard and servant around, and given that the site was almost completely full of people working for the couple, which was quite a few people.
"He is gone, Legolas," Aragorn stammered desperately, when the two fathers bumped into each other. "I… he is not anywhere. And I…" His breathing was shallow, he was panicking, but Legolas had no strength himself to calm him down. Aragorn would not usually panic, but that was his child who was gone.
Legolas pulled his fingers through his hair and absentmindedly snagged his braids. He winced at the pain. His voice trembled as he replied, "I… I do not know either. We have done this… all wrong. All wrong."
"Any tracks from the tent will have been trampled," Aragorn said, looking around the dark camp. People were rushing about the camps and the flames of torches threw long dark shadows around them. "There… we have to get… contained."
Feeling tendrils of fiery panic, spurned by Aragorn's wild eyed look, spreading through him, Legolas took a shuddering breath of cool oxygen to wash it away. It flooded through his head and helped him to think. Blocking out the noise from the rest of the campsite helped as well. He gripped Aragorn's shaking hand in his own. "Why would he go out? The kitchens, the latrines, they have been searched. He would have heard the camp calling if he was in the woods. He would not have been able to slip through the guards. He has not got your skill or my ability." A soft whimper slipped from his lips. "We have to consider… what if he was taken?"
"The guards…" Aragorn managed. His hands gripped Legolas' tightly.
"We have to talk to them," Legolas agreed, nodding. He turned, but Aragorn's grip stopped him.
There was fear in Aragorn's eyes as he whispered, "Legolas… that is our child."
"I know." With a tug on Aragorn's arm, Legolas pulled the human into his hold, gripping his husband close. Sobs choked in his chest, but he desperately swallowed them down. Burying his head in Aragorn's shoulder, Legolas reasoned, "He can not have gone far. Chances are he has just gone for a wander, and all this worry is for nothing." Neither of them believed what he was saying, but that did not matter.
For a moment more, they clung to each other, until Aragorn pulled his shoulders back and raised his chin. "If those guards let him go, or if they were… negligent... or someone is going to die."
"Agreed," Legolas said, releasing his grip.
000
"Why did Atar look so worried?" asked Rilluin, twisting the fingers of his blankets into spirals. Atar shouldn't look like that. Atar never looked that worried, not so that everyone could see it. Perhaps he had looked like that when Ada was pregnant the first time, with him, or when one of them was ill, but… it made him nervous. "What did he mean about Cariad? What is all the noise?"
Elladan and Elrohir shared a look, and as Elrohir was wrestling with Liana – or his hand was – Elladan explained as gently as he could, "When Cariad was checked on earlier, he was not in his tent. We are not sure where he is at the moment."
Hands tightened convulsively on his blanket, Rilluin asked, "Did someone take him? Because Ada said that that was the worst possible thing that could happen. Ever."
"There is no point in us making speculation," Elladan said, shrugging his shoulders. A soft snort of breath from Elrohir made Elladan sigh and concede to tuck the blankets around Rilluin. "There is no reason to think that anyone has taken him. Not yet. And wherever he is, we will find him. There are a hundred people looking for your brother. And I tell you now that they will find him."
"But what if they do not?" asked Rilluin. He raised his hand to nibble at his nails.
"They will find him," Elladan repeated, sternly. He could almost hear his twin shaking his head at his severe tone. Elrohir had always been the 'nicer' one of the two, but he was busy with Liantasse. He was preparing himself to have to open his eyes and hug his nephew, but was prevented from doing so by a stout dwarf, panting harshly as he announced, "Aragorn wants the two of you, elves."
"Where is he?" Elladan asked, standing, relieved that he had been spared hugging duty.
"No," Elrohir said, interrupting. "We can not leave the children. Aragorn would never forgive us."
"I've been sent to do that," Gimli said, simply. He shrugged off the leather jerkin he wore and dumped it in a chair.
Elladan was still hesitant. "Aragorn and Legolas trust you, but… how do we know that you are not the one who took Cariad?"
Anger flooded Gimli's veins until it was almost palpable in the atmosphere. His eyes glinting through the heavy curtain of his hair, Gimli growled, "I didn't doubt you with the wee ones so you shouldn't with me. I'm guardian for one of these children so I'll do exactly that."
"So are we," snapped out Elladan.
Suddenly, Rilluin felt like the mature one. He rolled his eyes and interjected "You are wasting time! You should be finding my brother! Not arguing. You are always arguing with each other."
For once, Elladan looked abashed, and he nodded. "You are right," he confessed, miserably. "Elrohir, we should go."
"I am at the door," Elrohir pointed out.
In a moment, they were gone, and Gimli found his place on the bed. "Rilluin, are you alright?"
"Are they who are in charge of finding my brother?" asked Rilluin, scepticism all over his eleven year old face.
"Yes, I'm afraid so," Gimli said, shaking his head. He glanced at Liana, who was making noises.
"Me, me, me," she called, making grabbing actions towards the dwarf. Her hands clapped together as she reached out. Gimli reached into his belt and pulled out her bottle. "No." Gimli tried his panpipes. "Yes!"
"Here you go," Gimli sighed and watched Liana for a long moment. Her face was one of intense concentration as she blew at the pipes, trying to make a tune. "Should I show you to do it or should Rilluin?" He turned to Rilluin but found the bed empty. Liana giggled as Gimli swore, loudly.
000
Aragorn and Legolas spotted a group of soldiers in a huddle, and headed straight towards them, hands wound tight around each other. One of the guards spotted their approach, and leaned forwards. A moment later, Bardlet turned and made his way towards the couple. "What are you doing over there?" Legolas asked, "Have you found him?"
"No, my Lord… but… we have a lead," Bardlet made them pause when Aragorn tried to take a step forwards. "One of the guards, one of… my guards. He has something that he wants to say to you." Bardlet's voice was a bitter growl.
"Dare I ask?" Aragorn managed, his grip so tight his knuckles were white.
"No my Lord," Bardlet confessed, shaking his head. "He is this way."
Grinding his teeth together, to prevent himself from saying anything, Legolas followed slightly behind his husband. The guards broke away from each other to let their King and their Consort through. A man sat in a chair, plate armour in a pile on the floor, in nothing more than a shirt and leggings, rope around his ankles, his knees, his waist, and hands. Legolas found his first spark of amusement since he had heard about Cariad's disappearance, at the guards' enthusiasm. However, he supposed they were trying to make amends for their mistakes. Legolas was surprised when Aragorn gasped, "Haren!"
"Do you know him?" Legolas demanded, turning to his husband.
"I helped you! You and your partner, I helped you," exclaimed Aragorn. "Why would you have anything to do with my son disappearing."
"You helped me once," Haren snarled, "You were no good to me when your stupid fight with orcs and lack of leadership led to my lover being killed!"
For a moment, Aragorn was taken back and looked aghast. "I did not know – Fledow was it not? – was one of the dead."
"You do not even know the names of those who died! And you did not know because you did not care; they died because you left the battle field and left us on our own. There was no other leader, and people died," Haren said in the same growl.
"How much time was there? How much more could I do?" Aragorn asked, furiously. "How could I do any more leading that I did? Your partner was not the only one to be hurt." Aragorn dragged the sleeve of his shirt up, revealing the long, shiny pink scar which tore all the way up his arm.
"But you got out," Haren said, "The King always comes first. Not the people who help him. He should never have been in the fight. He was a cook, not a guard. He should not have been there, but he thought we owed you. He wanted to help you. But you are pathetic, useless. Your subjects should come first. You are as bad as Denethor, you are filth." Haren spat at Aragorn's feet.
Immediately, the guards bristled, some darting forwards violently, in defence of their King. For a moment, Aragorn felt a little bit pleased; not everyone thought that little of him. However, Legolas did not care. "Whilst I am sorry for the loss you sustained, one life lost tragically does not mean you can take another. Where is my son? What do you know about Cariad? Did you let him leave, or did you take him?"
"I did nothing more than was deserved," Haren replied. He gave a violent jerk, trying to break out of his bonds. There was never any chance of escape, and no one moved. They could not tense any further, than they already were.
"That is not an answer," Bardlet was the one who ground the words out so viciously. He was furious; the other guards could feel him trembling with it. This was the ultimate betrayal. Bardlet demanded absolute trust of his guards, and to have that broken, disregarded… that was unforgiveable by all. Trust was so essential in their job.
"Why would I tell you?" Haren asked, clearly trying to seem calm. "I want you to suffer, as I suffered. I could not get to your husband so I thought your son was the closest thing."
"What have you done with him?" Aragorn demanded, unable to stop himself from shaking, but his grief and misery had dissolved in the wake of a target for his anger. "Did you take him?"
"I did not."
"No… for you did not do this on your own, or he would be with you," Aragorn reasoned, thinking hard.
"I will not say."
Legolas looked up at the sky. Time was running past them, through their fingers like water cupped in their hands, and once the water had all trickled away… that meant Cariad was out of their reach. "This will not yield anything," Bardlet said, throwing his hands up in the air. "Nothing at all. He has no reason to tell us anything."
"Then we give him a reason," Legolas hissed impatiently. He leant down and withdrew a knife from his boot. It was sharp and wickedly curved. He leaned forwards over the guard, and released Aragorn's hand. "Let me tell you now that I have absolutely no qualms about using this on you. You have angered me. You know where my son is, and there is nothing I will not do to get him back. You are nothing to me and you will tell me what happened to him."
"What good will that do?" Elladan's voice came from behind Aragorn.
"More than you think," Legolas replied, his face twisted into a feral snarl. Aragorn had rarely seen his husband like that, and the times that he had, he had never forgotten them. "And more than anyone else seems willing to do."
"You are right." Aragorn scrubbed his hand over his eyes, trying very hard to think straight. If he stopped thinking, he would break down, and that could not be allowed to happen. "Elladan, Elrohir, you are the best trackers that we have. We are not needed here. Let Legolas and… six guards stay here, with this scum, and move him into a tent. The rest of you, we need to look for tracks… so, trackers, spread outside the tents. The remainder can prevent people from ruining the tracks, and leaving the campsite. Bardlet, organise that for me please."
000
Legolas ran his finger along the side of his blade, and grinned at the whispering noise it made. He had sent the other guards to the sides of the tent, and it felt like it was just him and the man tied to the chair, whom he had not turned around to face yet. "Haren, was that your name?" he asked, as if he was talking to the man over a cup of tea.
Haren did nothing.
Legolas waited for a moment, for any sort of reply, before he turned, slowly, to face the man. "I asked you a question. I expected an answer." There was still no response, and Legolas crouched down next to the chair. Carefully, he placed the tip of his knife against the throat of the man. He saw the thick neck tighten, as if preventing itself from making the mistake of swallowing. "I need answers from you, and you will give them to me. Now answer my question – and think about whether or not you nod." When there was no response, Legolas pressed the knife in a little further, a little harder. He waited, and then pressed so that the blade cut the skin.
There was something very satisfactory about that moment when metal won over flesh, when the enemy was someone who deserved it, when it lead to something, when someone needed to suffer.
The cut was tiny, but a rounded droplet of scarlet blood rolled down from the point, to the hilt, and the man turned to the gasp of pain into the words, "Yes, I am Haren." Legolas nodded his head encouragingly, asking for more, and he continued. "Haren Cetnel."
"Do you have family, Haren Cetnel? I know you have no children, no husband, but what about a mother? A father? Brothers, sisters… nieces… nephews…" Legolas paused, so that Haren could reply.
"A mother, and a sister. She has just had a daughter," Haren said, spurred on by the fact that Legolas' hand had slid down to his other boot to pull out his other knife.
"What would they think, seeing you trussed up like this?" Legolas asked. "Because when you die - and chances are that you will die for what you have done, it is just when and with how much pain that is in my control right now – when you die, I will not tell them that you died bravely in battle, or what we should tell them to make you feel better. I will tell them how you kidnapped an innocent child, and you were killed by someone who was desperately trying to get their child back. What would they think?" There was no reply. The elf tossed his spare blade in the air and caught it on it's way down, one handed. He had to hide his grin when Haren flinched at the action. If he did this, then at least he did not have to think about where Cariad was, and what someone was doing to him now. He could pretend that it was someone else's child who had disappeared, and he was helping return them home. He needed the man in front of him to suffer, and to tell him where his son was, and Haren had felt nothing yet. Legolas knew techniques which no one looking at him normally would think he was capable of.
There was a commotion at the door, and Legolas turned. He found a guard holding back Rilluin. "Atar!" he exclaimed. Trying not to appear as shocked as he was, Legolas slipped his knives back into boots.
"What are you doing here?" Legolas asked, striding away from Haren to his child. "Rilluin, where is Gimli? Where are your guards?"
"They were busy," Rilluin said, launching himself out of the guard's hold and into Legolas' arms. The elf gripped his son, tucking him close. "Where is Cariad? What were you doing?"
"I was just asking this man a few questions," Legolas said, "But that does not matter. Why were you out there on your own? Cariad has disappeared, everyone is worried about him. I can not have to worry about you as well. I need you to be safe."
"I wanted to see you," Rilluin replied, his hands gripped tight on his father's shirt. "I needed to know what was going on."
"Well now you know, that we do not know what is going on," Legolas muttered. But you have to go back now. You have to let me keep talking, and you have to go. Let me take you back to Gimli."
Rilluin linked his hand in Legolas' as they moved out of the tent. Legolas turned before leaving, and snarled at the guards. "Do not let that man move. And do not think I will not return."
000
When Elladan and Elrohir found Aragorn, he was kneeling on the ground next to a track of hoof prints. "There are the freshest I can find," Aragorn said, not looking up. His hands were shaking as he traced the indentations in the ground. "They lead south towards the River Isen."
"Aragorn, you are a mile away from the camp," Elladan pointed out, kneeling next to his brother. "You are on your own, on foot." He glanced outwards; apart from Aragorn's light, there was none other in sight.
"If taking Cariad from you was a trap set for you, it is working. Why are you here on your own?" Elrohir asked. Despite the anger he felt, he kept his voice gentle. He was kneeling on the other side of his brother, and placed a hesitant hand on his shoulder.
"Because someone has taken my son from me," Aragorn exclaimed. "We have scoured the entire campsite. There are no child's footprints leading away excepting the ones to the river, where we were earlier, but there are only six small tracks there; one for each of the children too and from the site. These are the only hoof prints leading away."
"Even so," Elladan muttered. "You can not go out on your own. You can not get him back on your own."
"They have taken him. Someone has taken my son, or… or he has taken a horse and run away from me," Aragorn replied, in little more than whisper. "If they have taken him, then I follow these tracks and find him again. If he has gone… then I have to find out why and get him to come back to me."
"It is the middle of the night, it is pitch black because the moon has gone down, and you are not the person who should be looking for him," Elladan ground out.
Misery swelled inside the human, and he could no longer hold it back. "If I do not look for him, who will?" he gasped out. Elrohir's arms moved around his brother, as tears began to stream down Aragorn's cheeks. So grateful for the comfort, the gentle touch, there was no way that Aragorn could contain his sobs. "That is my son… why would he be.. he has to have been taken… someone had to have taken him. Why would he run… was there anything… I did not do anything did I? Did I hurt him? Did someone else? If he… he should have told me… if someone… if someone hurt him and… why would he feel like he had to run?"
"You do not know that he did," Elrohir said softly, to the shaking man tucked under his chin. He had had to put a stop to the outpouring of emotion and self-hate.
"If he had run, he would have taken his horse, not this one whose prints we see. We checked, and there is no horse missing from the stables. Someone came, and they took Cariad, and then… they rode away. That is what happened," Elladan stated, in a voice far more gruff than his twin.
The older twin met Elrohir's eyes, and they saw pain reflected in their mirror image's eyes. It was not fair. Their younger brother, whom they still saw as such a child still, had hurt so much in his short life. Fate, destiny and the Valar… authority and the high profile nature of his life… they conspired and made so much hurt for the human. They had seen him as a baby, tiny and defenceless, and could not help but see him like that still sometimes, at times such as this one… they just wanted to make the hurt go away. Elrohir continued talking, "You saved Cariad, you and Legolas. He is happy with you and you would have seen it if someone had hurt him. He would have told you."
"But would he? Truly? For he took years before he told me what had happened to him with his real parents," Aragorn's voice broke as he spoke, and turned high-pitched against his will as he tried to rain in the sobs which made his voice thick.
"You are his real parent!" Elladan exclaimed, impatient. "You are the one who loves him, and cares for him, and teaches him those things he will take with him through life. Not the filth who made a poor excuse of raising him first. Now if you wish to continue to be his real parent, you go back to the camp, you tell your other children that everything will be ok – for Elbereth knows that they do not believe me when I say it – and you find out what your husband has discovered, and you let those people who do not have an emotional connection to your child, and are therefore far more able to catch him than you are. You do that, and you have to be safe as well Aragorn! If someone can take your child, surrounded by guards, they can take you, out here on your own. Now get on the horse."
Aragorn no longer had the strength with which to argue.
000
When Legolas finally left Haren, it was to have him as a sobbing wreck on his chair. The guards had watched, and he had felt their flinches as they had done so. But maybe they would have a new respect for him now; he could no longer be just the King's Consort in their eyes anymore. Yet there were no more than the first cut across Haren's neck, which marked Haren's body. There were no breaks, no fractures, not even another bruise. But Legolas had made him feel pain, pain after pain. And he had spilled the words.
Haren had let past the man who had taken Cariad. It had been prearranged. Cariad had not wandered away, he had been knocked unconscious and smuggled away. It had not taken a bribe. Haren wanted Aragorn to hurt.
But this was something. They had information, and with information, they could find his child.
A/N: Jazz hands. This took longer than I thought it would, I intended for it to take a shorter amount of time, but it didn't like me. But here it is. Hope you enjoyed.