Disclaimer: Lord of The Rings and its characters are the property of Tolkien.

Lost

by Starfox

Darkness and blinding pain, that was the first that registered. His head hurt terribly. He moved slightly and moaned. His whole body was on fire. Slowly he lifted a hand to his aching head. He felt something wet and sticky. After a few futile tries he finally managed to open his eyes. He stared at his hand, uncomprehending. Finally his sluggish brain registered that his hand was covered in blood.

He frowned. What had happened to him? But as he tried to remember, memory eluded him. Suddenly he sat up, gasping, only to double over in pain as his headache flared. He pressed his hands to his head and panted. After a moment the pain receded somewhat, although his head still throbbed terribly. But now that the pain was somewhat under control he could turn his thoughts to the important thing: He didn't remember. Not only what had happened, he didn't remember anything. He didn't remember how he came to be in this situation, where he came from or where he was headed, even worse, he didn't remember his name or his home.

He looked around. He had been lying on a grassy plain but he heard the gurgling of water close by. He tried to get up. At first, he fell back to the floor but with the second try he got shakily to his feet. Following the sound of the water he soon found a river, that cut through the grassy plain. Realizing how thirsty he was, he stumbled closer to the riverbank until he had reached the edge of it and sank to his knees. He leaned over and stared into the water. His reflection showed him a tired blond being with blue eyes, a large bruise down the right side of his face and blood on his clothes as well as in his hair. Even as he saw his reflection, his memory eluded him, he still couldn't remember anything.

Deciding to take care of the important things first, he thirstily drank the water and cleaned the blood from his body. As he removed his tunic, he could see the injuries he had sustained. It were mostly deep gashes that didn't pain him all that much. Much worse was his head which throbbed mercilessly.

He felt a little better after he had cleaned his wounds and splashed cold water over his head. So that he could finally decide on what to do. He checked himself and found that he had nothing with him except for a dagger that was tucked into his belt.

Not knowing what else to do, he decided to follow the river. Maybe he would find help somewhere.

Thranduil stared down at the message in his hand in dismay and growing dread. A few days ago, Legolas had left to visit a relatively new elven settlement in the north. Now a bird had arrived, bringing a message that Legolas hadn't showed up at the expected time. He clenched the paper in his hand. He didn't like this at all and a mounting feeling of fear grew inside of him.

With purposeful movements he got up and went to the door of his study, addressing one of the guards in the corridor. "Veryan, please send for Angon and Feron."

"Aye, sire," Veryan confirmed and left his post to fulfill his king's demand.

Thranduil paced his office restlessly until the door opened and Angon and Feron entered.

Feron immediately knew that something wasn't right as he caught sight of his friend. He knew Thranduil too long to not be attuned to his every mood. "What's wrong?"

Thranduil clenched the message in his hands. "Dolamar just sent word. Legolas hasn't arrived yet." Angon and Feron could clearly see the worry in his eyes.

"When was he scheduled to arrive?" Angon asked.

"Two days ago. They thought that he had been delayed and waited for some time until they sent the message. They also sent out some warriors to look for him." Thranduil started his restless pacing again.

Hmm," Feron stared at the map of Eryn Galen and its surroundings at the wall of Thranduil's study. "He could have been delayed but Dolamar isn't so far off that a two day-delay would easily be possible."

"Exactly," Thranduil stopped and turned towards the two elves. "I fear that something has happened."

Angon nodded, knowing exactly what his king would want to do. "I'll gather a company of warriors, we will be ready to leave in one hour."

"Thank you, I'll be there."

Angon nodded and left, while Thranduil turned to Feron. His friend could see the fear and unease in his eyes. He laid a hand on Thranduil's shoulder. "You'll find him, you'll see."

"I hope so." Thranduil took a deep breath. "I must go. Will you inform Dilloth, Galion and Galdor?"

"Yes, of course. We'll manage everything during your absence, don't worry." Feron watched his friend with sympathetic eyes. He could imagine how Thranduil must feel now. He himself loved Legolas like his own son, but the fear and dismay he felt must be nothing in comparison to what Thranduil was going through right now. "Come, I'll help you pack."

He laid a hand on his friend's forearm for a moment then they headed out of the door and into Thranduil's chambers to pack the things the king would need during the search for his son.

Legolas stumbled once more. For two days he was now wandering aimlessly, trying to find a settlement or anything that helped him to remember. As he first tried to orient himself he had seen a large forest on one side and a wide, open plain with a range of mountains in the distance. He had considered his options and then headed for the open plain and the mountains, thinking it far more possible to find a settlement there than in a wood.

He had finally crossed the river and followed a side stream further onto the plains. Now he made his way across them, trying to find something to eat. He was getting desperately hungry but so far his search for anything edible had only resulted in finding a few berries. He was eating leaves, so his stomach got at least something to do even if it wasn't filling at all. His head ached terribly and the pain made it hard to concentrate. He hadn't found any signs of settlement or caravans so far. At least if he stayed close to the river he always had something to drink and maybe he finally would come across a farm or some kind of settlement. He thought that it would be his best option to continue on this way.

He stumbled on, not knowing that his course was getting him farther and farther away from his home and the elves that were searching for him.

Thranduil stood and surveyed the carnage with dismay. After five days following the way Legolas would have taken to reach Dolamar they had come upon a scene that filled him with dread. Dead wargs lay scattered around. Some had been killed by arrows but a lot more had obviously perished in close-range battle.

They had dismounted and were searching the site, Thranduil hoping desperately that they wouldn't find what he feared.

He examined one of the dead beasts, confirming that it was one of Legolas' arrows that had killed it, when a voice caught his attention.

"Sire, over here," one of the warriors called.

Thranduil followed the voice and strode over to where the other elf stood. His breath caught in his chest. There, in front of the warrior lay Legolas' horse, dead.

Thranduil knelt down in sorrow. He knew what Celaril had meant to his son. The stallion's hooves were covered in blood. Obviously, he had tried to help his master against the wargs. The horse was still wearing Legolas' pack, causing Thranduil's worry to rise a notch. Sorrowfully he laid a hand on the dead horse's neck. "Farewell, my friend." He opened the strap that held the pack and pulled it from Celaril's back, clutching it in his hands. Slowly, he rose to his feet and took a step back, sending a silent prayer to the Valar.

Angon had reached him and came to a stop beside him. He laid a hand on Thranduil's shoulder in silent support.

Thranduil swallowed heavily and looked up at Angon and the warriors that had gathered around the sad scene. "Bury him," he said hoarsely, turning around and continuing the search.

So far, they hadn't found Legolas' body or any sign of him.

After a few more minutes of searching, Angon inspected a tree and called out, "Thranduil."

The king went over to his friend and saw that he was holding something in his hands.

Angon looked up at his friend, a look of sorrow in his eyes. As Thranduil came closer he saw that Angon was holding Legolas' knives.

"There is blood on this tree," Angon said quietly.

Thranduil looked and saw that the tree was covered in red blood at the height of a person's head and back.

"What happened, where is he?" he asked in desperation.

"It doesn't look as if there have been orcs as well," Angon said. "So it doesn't seem possible that he has been taken by orcs."

"But where is he? If he hasn't been captured why didn't he collect his weapons?"

"I don't know but maybe he tried to make it to Dolamar after the attack."

"Send a warrior to Dolamar, he should encounter the search party from there. Tell them to search along the way from here to the village. We will start to search in a circle around the site and branch out from there."

Angon nodded and relayed Thranduil's orders to the warriors, hoping that they would find Legolas soon and that he would be alright. He didn't know how they would cope if that wasn't the case.

Thranduil gazed down at Legolas' knives in his hands. "Where are you, my son?" he whispered in helpless desperation.

TBC