Chapter 29

Elrond's eyes darkened. Dorthion's revelation of what had come to light troubled him deeply. A Ring of Power, however insignificant, was no mere thing to be trifled with.

"And you said you do not know of the whereabouts of several other persons besides the King, the Prince and my son?" the elven Lord inquired. The young ellon flinched slightly, as if the reality of his failure stung him physically. He had spent the better part of a few hours second guessing himself, wondering that maybe in his haste to get Tauriel professional help, failed to thoroughly search for the missing persons. The weight of guilt sunk his heart at the thought that anything should happened to any of them, especially his own King, who was his first and foremost priority.

"Yes— sir," Dorthion, the young member of the Royal Guard, hesitated. He was used to referring to his authorities as 'my Lord', but Lord Elrond was not, in fact, his Lord. His Lords were of the House of Oropher only. "We have lost track of a General and the King's Master Healer along with his lady wife. Several elflings have gone missing as well and have not yet been found. We fear they have been lost in the forest, for the stronghold has been combed through very efficiently." Dorthion hung his head. His voice was soft and barren, the usually bright baritone extinguished. "Several other elves have also gone missing. We do not have any specific information yet, but any remaining able-bodied soldiers are working full time to see to their whereabouts. As far as we know, they are mostly ellyth and children."

Elrond looked down at his folded hands and was about to ask another question when the red-haired elleth on the bed squinted and scrunched her nose, tossing her head to the side fitfully before cracking the bright orbs of leaf green open.

"Tauriel?" Dorthion asked softly. His eyes swam with such tender concern Elrond couldn't help but smile despite the frustrating turn of events.

The elleth turned her head towards the familiar voice and a quiet smile spread on her sooty face.

Healer Aldaner leaned on the doorframe, her arms laden with a basket of salves and dressings requested by Lord Elrond. Her eyes met the Noldo Lord's and she entered the room.

"What happened?" Tauriel said, her voice rough from her screams and sobs. She appraised her surroundings and looked mildly surprised at the fresh linen-swathed beds standing vigil around the airy healing ward. Elrond recalled grimly where she, by law, should be right now.

"There was an explosion—" Dorthion started, but quickly cut himself off as an air of utter despair settled on the elleth and dimmed the renewed glint of clarity in her eyes.

"I remember now," she said softly, as Aldaner tipped a cup to her lips. She drew in the sleeping draught with a satisfied sigh.

"I will let you rest soon, but first I need to ask you some questions, alright penneth?" Elrond said in a low, droning voice that could put the most flighty of patients at ease.

She nodded tiredly and let her eyes trail to where Dorthion's warm, calloused hand enveloped her own.

oOo

Elrond quietly slid the thick canvas back into place to give the recovering elleth some privacy. She had minor burns all over her side, mainly her hands, but it presented no threat to her life and would do no more than be a painful nuisance.

He walked absently through the winding corridors, mulling over the recent events and trying to piece together a suitable plan that would free the people of the stronghold from this untimely destruction. He stopped in front of a door, throwing the question as to why he was standing in front of Thranduil's chambers to the wind. He shrugged and pushed the ajar door open.

Everything was in disarray as they had left it; plush seats pushed haphazardly to one side, the small secret compartment in the low table open and the documents— gone?

Elrond rushed over to the table and sure enough, every last paper was gone. He raked his fingers through his hair in frustration and whirled when a gentle hand landed on his shoulder. He was met with the kind eyes of Healer Aldaner. Her gaze strayed to the open compartment, but seemed to take Elrond's distraught mood as more of a concern than her curiosity.

He gave her a tired half smile and sank down onto the sofa. "Healer Aldaner," he acknowledged.

She placed the basket she was carrying on the floor and spoke carefully, "I know you have much on your mind," she began, "and I know you cannot rightfully take control here, but you are respected and looked up to. Perhaps you should decide what action is best to take next." She turned hopeful eyes to him.

"I do not know, Aldaner. I cannot pull the strings behind the king's back I—"

"But the king is not here and we need a plan of action. Only you have experience in these kinds of things, and I do not think the people are on the best of terms with any of the other officials, and with Galion and my Feren absent—" he defected a slight quiver in her voice at her son's name, Feren. "It is just best, Elrond. Please do this."

Elrond rubbed a hand over his face. "I-I do not know. I can't—"

"Can't let the people burn," she amended, her face grave and comforting. Elrond sighed in defeat. "We are behind you Elrond. Perhaps Thranduil will think better of you when he returns," she said in jest, than quickly sobered. There was a large "if" in that 'when he returns'.

Elrond gave her a half-hearted smile. "I was never one for military tactics, but I suppose I should discuss this with the officials in this area—"

Aldaner put a hand on his arm to stop him, and shook her head with a grim smile.

"Pardon?" he stammered.

She wordlessly reached down and removed a folder from the basket she had entered carrying. She presented it to him with nimble fingers. "There are their resignations. I was sent to bring it to you."

Elrond was taken aback. This was unexpected. "More traitors?" His voice was hoarse and brow twisted in intent concern.

She looked out the window thoughtfully. "Possibly. But I do not think so. I suspect they have been threatened." She gave a him certain, knowing look.

Realization dawned on the elven lord. "The other missing elves. Captured?"

"I suspect so. I knew most of the officials, being assistant to Master Healer Filendis, and they were not traitors. Ausocitin knows his game. He is trying to leave us leaderless, and that would break us to the point of no return. He would never guess that you would rise to the challenge, for many elves in Greenwood have very specific and very strong opinions about Noldor. All the more reason for you to do this."

Elrond sighed again. "Thank you, Aldaner." She smiled kindly. "I will see to my sons. Their memory of these things are fresher than mine."

He hesitated to turn and leave at the reproachful expression of the elderly Healer. She bit her lip as if wanting to say something, and hooked her fingers in her sleeve.

"My lady?"

"I-" she started, "I was wondering— about my son, and Galion and Thranduil and the others. Will you be sending out search parties? Surely you cannot assume that they are gone—!"

Elrond pondered the offer. It pained him to shutter the hope shining in the elleth's eyes once again, but he knew what he had to do. "Of course not! We cannot—will not assume anything of the sort." She perked up slightly and he pursed his lips sadly. "However, we cannot afford to send anyone out of the stronghold. Dorthion reported that they barely escaped another rabble of Edain, and all our candidates are busy searching for the other lost elves who might still be kept in the stronghold, for the disappearance of those documents—" he gestured to the open compartment, "proves they have a successful infiltrator."

She nodded solemnly. "I understand." Then, she wordlessly picked up her basket and trudged out of the door, obviously struggling not to let the disappointment of the declined offer weigh her down. Elrond watched her back retreat out of the door sadly, then exited to see to his twin sons.

I will find you, Estel. Soon. Soon.

oOo

"Now?" Estel nearly squeaked, looking at the dwarf as if he had just proposed to go have tea with Sauron.

"Yes now! Everyone's waiting in the Hall!" Nari countered in excitement.

"He's not even awake," observed Hildor dryly.

"Fiddlesticks! He can sleep later, now we must make haste!" Nari was nearly fluttering around the room. No one had ever seen him this pumped up before. Apparently he was less fond of the century-old conflict than most of the other chairmen.

"I'm afraid he's in no condition to go anywhere," Aldor said calmly, a sharp contrast to Nari's restless fidgeting. He gestured to the sleeping elf. It was disturbing enough that he had not woken—not even twitched— from all their racket.

"He doesn't have a choice," Nari said angrily.

Estel had been about to rebuke the dwarf when noise from outside attracted his attention. As if sensing his thoughts, Hildor peeked under the entrance flap that served as the front door and whistled at whatever he saw outside. Estel sidled up to him.

Humans of all ages stood right outside the tent. Some dwarves had been thrown into the mix and nearly all of them had either impatient or angry dispositions. Estel gulped. He would not want to cross this rabble anytime soon.

A woman must've noticed him peeking out for she called out: "You there! Tell that elf to get himself out here!"

Several persons chorused their agreement.

"It's elf money so let the elf decide!" roared a dwarf. Aldor had now joined Estel at the entrance and was futilely trying to communicate to the group that Legolas was in no condition to move whatsoever. His voice was drowned out in a sea of murmurings and threats.

"We're not waiting a second longer than necessary! A hundred years is about as long as this argument will stand!" Yells answered the booming voice.

"Either you get him out here or we will!" The shouts intensified and did not die down.

"Estel?" Legolas bleary voice caused the young human to whirl around. This much noise was sure to waken him.

"Legolas!" Estel rushed back to his friend's side. His nerves were on end.

"Wha—" His brow wrinkled in concern, understanding the shouted threats from outside for the first time. "Estel, what is all this?" he asked in a hoarse voice. He no longer heeded the warning in his mind not to trust these folk with knowledge of their companionship.

Taking a deep breath, Aragorn explained the situation, noticing how the elf's eyes kept flicking to Aldor and Hildor. Nari grumped into his beard, muttering pleas under his breath for them to hurry.

Legolas grimaced as all the racket grated on his sensitive hearing and worsened the throbbing migraine swimming between his temples. His patience had just about worn itself out. He was tired, thirsty, and any little twitch sent fire spiking through his side. Besides that, he had no idea where the gold, that was supposedly Greenwood's, came from or how it had ended up in this settlement. He had little stomach for politics and disliked it nearly more than anything. To put it simply, Legolas just wanted to sleep.

The dwarf glared at him from the other side of the tent. He looked just about ready to stomp over and carry Legolas out himself.

Sighing, the prince began to sit up. He eyed Aldor warily before allowing the human to help him up. Swinging his legs wordlessly over the edge of the cot, he reasoned about what he would do. There was really no escape to being torn apart by one mob or another. If he gave the money to the dwarves, the humans would most definitely leave him in a worse state in which he had been found, as would happen if he chose to give the money to the humans. If he didn't come out at all, the mob would probably storm the tent and tear it to pieces. In short, Legolas had three choices; pain, pain, and pain, and he didn't fancy either of those.

"You can't go out there!" Estel said, his tone panicky and eyes wide as he draped the elf's arm over his shoulders and wrapped an arm around his waist to keep him upright. Legolas leaned heavily on him and was already breathing far too hard than should be necessary.

"I must," he said in a strained voice. He barely managed to suppress the moans in his throat.

And Estel knew it.

Hildor went first, pushing through the crowd. Next came Aldor, batting away anyone who reached too close, with Estel and Legolas behind him and the dwarf Nari in tow.

The chorus of shouts melted together into one indiscernible roar. It took several minutes for the small group to finally push through the throng and limp into the Hall. The ringing of the crowd was diluted as the heavy oak doors swung shut. Legolas immediately located the back door at the front of the room where there was a space devoid of chairs for the presenter to stand.

Murmured whispers rippled through the audience in the hall as the group made it to the front of the room. Nari took his seat as part of the panel.

Legolas was breathing very hard. Any move he made dipped his nerves in molten lava and his head ached fiercely as if being used as an anvil. His knee felt out of place and only added to his pain. He had to pause in order for the world to right itself and the black spots to fade from his vision.

He began speaking, hoping he would still be in one piece at the end of the day. He had made his decision. "In this town's possession is a unit of wealth belonging to the elven realm of Greenwood the Great." He gritted his teeth at the mocking mutterings that ran through the gathered. "I understand that both dwarves and Edain claim that the gold rightfully belongs to their own race but—"

"We don't claim to own anything, elf! We were promised payment of our choice, and we choose that gold!" That was obviously a dwarf who had interrupted.

"That wealth was entitled to this town before any dwarves came snooping around!" It was a woman this time.

The prince lifted a shaking hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"Are we not a part of this town?"

"This town wouldn't be here if it wasn't for us dwarves!"

Shouts began to rise up again.

"If I could have silence, I would continue." Legolas didn't not raise the volume of his voice but the chilling tone was very effective and everyone quieted. "After much contemplation and evaluation of the well-being of all races present—"

"Them dwarves don't need no gold! Everyone already knows they have a mountain full of it!"

Growls rose from the section where the dwarves were seated at the mention of Erebor, currently under the reign of Smaug.

"That's quite enough!" Hildor shouted. He too was eager to discover the elf's conclusion. The yells died out. Legolas' eyes could be compared to chips of ice. He was nearing the end of his limits.

Ignoring a worried glance of Estel's brilliant silver, he continued. "As I was saying, to preserve the well-being of all races present, I reclaim the wealth as originally belonging to the realm of Greenwood, and order it to be ready for guarded shipment under the official title of Legolas Thranduilion, Prince and royal heir to the throne of Greenwood the Great." He scribbled his name down on the document on the pulpit in front of him, making the transaction official.

The crowd was angry to say the least. Threats rose up, and no one noticed the five other beings that entered through the back door.

Nari shot out of his chair and pointed accusingly. "He lies!"

"Only an elf would think of doing something like that!"

"He ain't no prince!"

"Get him down from there!"

Legolas gritted his teeth. The noise was too much; he couldn't keep this up much longer...

"Estel, move to the back door. Behind us."

The crowd was rising like the Sea at high tide, threatening to choke off the residents on shore, which in this case was the young human and elf who were doing their best to make an escape.

The five unknown figures sprang into sight, their cowls shadowing their faces and clothing except for gleaming swords held out at full length towards the angry crowd. Estel was stunned to say the least; Legolas was targeting all his energy into staying conscious, so he was probably not even aware of the five new beings who had joined them.

"I suggest you all stand down," said one of the shadowed figures. His voice was as stern, cold, and sincere as a deadly icicle, poised to impale any who cross it in a millisecond's notice. Estel felt a definite shiver run along his spine. He had heard this voice before, and couldn't remember if that was a good thing or a bad thing. He suddenly wanted to backpedal towards the door with utmost haste.

He looked worriedly to the fair-haired elf now leaning on his shoulder with rapidly blinking glazed eyes. His breathing did not slow and he clutched his side with a trembling hand. Estel knew they could not get away now.

Aldor fidgeted nervously, obviously aching to check up on the ailing elf, but being held at bay by the sword of one of the slim figures.

The crowd responded accordingly to the stranger's chilling voice. The tense silence the voice created was soon broken by another angry shout.

"Move it if you know what's good for yah! That there elf is a liar and a cheat and we will have our vengeance a'fore he dies his'self!" Uncoincidentally, the protestant was dwarven.

If Legolas had been able to clearly hear, he would have agreed that he felt like he was dying. The internal battle in his body of his system trying to eliminate the rest of the venom was not a quiet nor painless one. Voices buzzed in his ears as he tried to blink away the dark haze settled over his vision.

"Curse them elves to the grave and back!" yelled another. The crowd began to surge forward. The strangers stayed poised as iron statues.

Aldor let out a small yelp as a sword pinched the soft flesh at his throat. The stranger had the healer pressed against his chest, the gleaming sword at his neck. The cold voice bit out again. "One more step from either of you and you won't have a healer left to sew what's left of you back together." The stranger had no idea if this really was the healer, but had really hoped he had guessed correctly from observing the human's mannerisms.

His voice had a greater affect this time. The throng quieted to grumbles and anxious glances.

Estel eyed the door longingly, then glanced back to the cowled figure closet to him, also holding an elegant sword, slightly curved... unlike human swords. A strange feeling he could not quite discern flared in his chest.

Aldor fidgeted anxiously under the bite of the blade and dared not move. His heart nearly jumped out of his rib cage entirely when the back door slammed behind him. He felt the stranger's head whirl around to face this new threat, but nearly melted into relief when he recognized the voice of Ena, the dwarrowdam, more widely known as Mum, or as the keeper of the local inn. Everyone knew it had the best kitchen in the whole part of the country.

"Just WHAT do we have here?!" She turned a heavy glare to her husband, Nari, who was standing defiantly at the front of the crowd.

Pardons and explanations were quickly emitted by several persons.

Everyone seemed so suddenly flustered and shy at her presence, Aragorn wondered if she was magic or something of that gist.

"Tut, tut! I don't want to hear it! I expect you all to disassemble immediately!" She turned back to Nari. "We will have a discussion about this later," she added menacingly.

Estel was incredibly astonished as the entire crowd filed out of the door with shuffling feet.

Aldor was released and the strangers had sheathed their weapons. Whoever they were, they had elvish weapons.

"Now if you folks would be so kind to introduce yourselves," Ena directed the question to the figure who had held his sword to Aldor's throat.

He stepped forward and threw off his cowl. Estel nearly fell over in astonishment, but instead tightened his hold on Legolas who was now very still despite the rise and fall of his chest. The poor creature had fallen unconscious despite his best efforts.

The stranger's face was elven, with medium-length russet brown hair and a defined jaw with a noble tilt to his head, thin lips twisted into a wry smile. Estel recognized him immediately.

"Feren Anuhallion, Captain of the Greenwood Royal Guard, at your service m'lady," Feren said, giving a sweeping bow.

He looked back to his companions. Legolas was already already in Filendis' arms, and Estel was futilely trying to wave away Helmeren's attempts to fuss over him. General Haldaner was eyeing Hildor and Aldor suspiciously, his hand fingering the hilt of his sword, and evidently on edge. "These are my companions," he gestured to the other elves, "and they are with me."

oOoOoOo

Next chapter is nearly halfways done. Don't worry an account on Thranduil and the kids is coming :P

Thank you all for the wonderful RandR!!