Once again I would like to say many, many thanks to those of you still reading, following, and favouriting and especially to Quantumphysica, high funcioning fangirl and of course DaHybridQueen for the lovely reviews.

It makes me so happy that so many of you are still taking this journey with me.

This chapter may seem a little slow I'm afraid but I think the next one makes up for it. Please. let me know what you think!


Chapter 49

Silence had greeted the elven prince as he gently eased the door to his room open. Fully dressed at last, he had stood, leaning upon the jamb, to regain the breath taken from him by what should have been but a simple action. With a mental grimace he had eventually pushed away to stand unaided then waited for the world to stop revolving, before carefully placing one foot in front of the other, in order to make his way slowly down the corridor and hopefully, ultimately out into the forest.

The sound of voices had drawn him to the partially open door and he had paused briefly, intending to pass by but had been intrigued by the tale being told so had stayed, leaning on the wall, listening intently to the story as it unfolded.

Eventually he reluctantly decided he should leave before he was discovered and he steeled himself to move again, turning away from the room to head for the outer door he could see at the end of the corridor. The sound of his own name however, had halted him in his tracks and he turned his head back at the heated words he could now hear spilling from the room.

Recognising Elrohirs voice his heart clenched at the fact that brother had been turned against brother because of his deeds, then nearly broke as he heard the young twins anger turn to despair. That he should be the cause of so much pain had nearly brought him to his knees.

Then Elladans words cut through his desolation and the assurance within them acted as a balm to his struggling fea and he realised that to leave now would add further to the weight of two already heavy hearts and he could not bring himself to add an additional burden. Taking a deep breath he straightened up once more and made to enter the room, all remaining thoughts of escape fleeing before the words he now hears emanating from the captured humans reluctant mouth.

He had stood silently in the doorway, staring balefully at the pitiful creature seated in the centre of the room, all eyes fixed upon him in outrage, as the wishes of his foul master were revealed at last, and as icy tendrils clutched around his insides the archer had moved forward unawares to ask the question burning in his mind.

With the three word answer Legolas feels his world tilt, the floor suddenly disappearing from under his feet and he stumbles forwards as they play over and over in his mind.

"Kill the King, Kill the King, Kill the King."

A litany repeatedly echoing through his thoughts as he falls forwards to be steadied by Doronors ready grip, eyes still fixed upon the human who in turn stares back radiating a mixture of fear, contrition and something else the prince can not immediately place.

"My lord, " the lieutenant softly utters as he steadies the young archer. "You should still be in bed."

Legolas' head snaps round to the elf by his side, the blue of his eyes suddenly icy and sharp enough to make Doronor flinch.

"I am fine Doronor." He pulls his arm away, the words curt and harsh, "and you forget," he pauses briefly, a look of deep sorrow passing over his face before he sighs and continues, his tone softer and almost apologetic, "I am no Lord." He walks carefully over and takes a seat opposite his would be captor, not allowing any sign of the effort it has taken for him to simply remain upright, let alone move, show on his stony features.

"So, Adan!" the usually melodious voice is usurped by a sneer as he once again engages Flinns eyes with his own. "Exactly how was this supposed to happen?"

The three brothers share a glance and Estel shivers at the atmospheric drop in temperature caused by the normally bright princes presence. Legolas has never looked more like his father than when he wears this icy persona and he is unsurprised when he notices Flinn visibly wilt under the archers glacial glare.

"I dunno exac'ly" the mans eyes flit around the room nervously as his mumbled words hesitantly work their way past reluctant lips. "I dunno 'ow 'e does it, I just knows 'e can."

Estel notices beads of sweat are begining to form on Flinns forehead and the bitter tang of fear wafts across the room.

"Not good enough, Adan!" the princes voice cuts through the air as he swiftly draws his long knife and twirls it in his hand in an unconcious mimicry of Elrohirs action from days before. "How, was this, supposed, to happen?" The words are slowly drawn out this time, as if spoken to one of limited understanding.

His mouth begins to work soundlessly, forming shapes that could be the precursor to words if only his throat wasn't constricting with fear. There is something about this elf that frightens him more than any other, more even than the Ravens he can feel watching him from the other side of the room. He licks his lips, trying to place what it is he senses. Then it hits him and his eyes open wide as the realisation sinks in. His gaze reluctantly rises from the glinting blade to the archers face. He may be fair, a creature of light, but Flinn feels that this elf has been touched by the dark and is certain that should he heed its call he would be far stronger than the shadowy figure he himself calls master and this frightens the man more than the retribution he knows he will face should he return to that menacing being.

Time appears to stop as silence stretches out into infinity. Tension rises palpably and the air takes on an almost greasy, cloying feel as they all wait, suspended in anxious anticipation for the humans answer.

"I," Flinn shifts uneasily on his chair then licks his lips, " I will tell you wot I can," his mouth feels so dry he can hardly speak, "Jus' please," he pauses as an involuntary shudder travels through his body. "Put the knife away."

"Very well." After a long pause, in which the man feels as if his nerves are stretched so tightly he can feel them vibrating, Legolas leans back in the chair, his long legs stretch out in front of him and the knife just disappears.

The fluid speed with which the archer re-sheathes the weapon makes Flinn flinch anew, his eyes widening even further. The elf before him may be injured but he has just been reminded that he is nonetheless still a deadly force to be reckoned with. He swallows once more and mentally curses the day he ever met Draeg and his master.

" I was in Laketown, trying ter finish some, erm, business, wiv a merchant when Draeg come and tole me the master wanted us for something special. 'E didn't know exac'ly wot it was, jus' that it was important." He stops and licks his dry lips, then smiles slightly as Estel hands him a mug of water. "Thanks," he nods gratefully and takes a long swig before continuing.

"I tol'e Draeg I was nearly finished but 'e wouldn't wait. Sed we 'ad to go now. Sed the master was in a right state an' we needed to 'urry." He pauses to take a breath. "'E was right too, I aint never seen the master in such a state. 'E was pacin' up an' down and mutterin ter 'imself. Usually 'e's so calm an' still, like a statue, I, I di'n't like it at all."

His eyes roam the room as he remembers the unnerving scene. That had not been the master he was used to. Normally cold and aloof, he had not seen any trace of emotion in their dealings before but he had looked decidedly agitated then, agitated yet excited some how.

"'E tole us 'e 'ad a important job fer us, one that would make us very rich," he continues, then takes another gulp of water from the mug held tightly in his hand before carrying on with his tale. The rooms other occupants are listening intently, not daring to interrupt his flow as the words spill out of his mouth as if in a hurry to be heard.

"'E said we 'ad to 'urry up though, as there wasn't much time. Some orcs were bringin 'im something valuable but 'e couldn't trust them to 'old onto it for too long wivout damagin' it, so we 'ad to go an' meet 'em an' take it off 'em then bring it to 'is place." He shudders at the thought of the dark fortress and what he has seen done there and closes his eyes briefly as if to shut out some terrible sight only he can see.

"This is all very well, Adan," Legolas leans forward in his chair, blue eyes filled with the threat of what he may yet do if not satisfied with the mans reply. "But what has this to do with me, or the King?" He raises his eyebrows, impatience showing in his next words. "This tale is too long in the telling, you had better come to the crux soon, or you will not merely see my blade again."

"A' right, a' right," the man replies quickly raising his hands as if to ward off a blow, "I'm gettin' there."

"You had better be." Legolas snaps back and Flinn hurries to continue.

I, I 'ad ter leave the room then, 'cause the master wanted ter speak ter Draeg on 'is own like. So I only know wot Draeg tole me after then see." He pauses to take another drink.

"So you know nothing after all!" There is a loud crash as Legolas explodes out of his chair with enough force to topple it over. Before anyone else can move he has pulled Flinn forward by the collar until they are nose to nose. The cup drops from his nerveless fingers to smash, unheeded on the floor. "You, pathetic worm." He spits out. "You merely attempt to prolong your life with this charade. " He lets go, pushing the man back down into his seat and draws his blade once more, with a wild flourish, raising it high over his head. "Tell me why I should not end your miserable life now."

"Nay!"

"Hold!"

"Legolas!"

"Hir nin!"

Four mouths protest simultaneously as the twins, Estel and Doronir each take a step forwards to intervene and Legolas' head whips around to stare at each of them in turn, the dark malice held within his usually clear blue eyes stopping them all in their tracks.

"Legolas?"

At the quavering utterance from his human friend the prince falters, then shakes his head briefly like someone waking from a dream. Bringing his arm down he stares at the knife as if wondering what it is doing in his hand, looks at the man cowering in the chair then turns to his friend with a frown.

"Estel?"

The archers knees buckle and he feels two arms encircle him as the young man rushes forward to catch him before he collapses to the floor.