RATING: PG-13

DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)

24.

Legolas felt his heart constrict painfully when he finally saw Elenath's condition. One eye swollen shut, her face battered and bruised, blood seeping from the back of her head, and an Orkish blade at her throat.

"Let her go," he growled through clenched teeth.

"Sure thing," laughed the monster. "I'll let her go. But only after Lord Elrond sends 100,000 gold coins for her."

The prince had never felt so helpless in all his life. "We will bring you the coins, but you must let her go first."

"You insult me!" growled Elenath's captor. "Do you think I am stupid? You will take her and I will never see the coins. No. You go. Get the gold. Bring it back and I will let her go."

"She might not live that long," he said calmly. "You and your friends have practically killed her already, and Lord Elrond will pay nothing if his granddaughter dies."

Dies? Elenath decided that she must look even worse than she felt. The Orc jerked her back roughly and she choked.

"You'd better hurry then," said the beast. "All of you. Go."

"I'll not leave her!" insisted the prince.

"I'm warning you!"

Elenath felt the cold steel of the blade press more firmly against her flesh and closed her eyes, whispering, "Flee, Legolas. Do not stay in this horrid place."

The prince sighed. There was nothing else to do but obey. They were trapped in this tiny chamber, the Orc standing guard with Elenath at his mercy over the only exit. They could do nothing at all but leave and come back. He cast a questioning glance at Gandalf who shook his head. No. There was nothing he could do either.

"Very well," said Legolas, but as the words escaped his mouth, something moved in the passageway behind the Orc. The prince's keen eyes caught the hem of an Elvish gown; the glint of an Elvish blade. Quickly, he continued as not to arouse the Orc's suspicion. "Very well. We shall go." He nodded in the direction of the figure who stood directly behind the Orc now. "You shall have your gold –"

Suddenly the chamber filled with the noise of an Orkish scream as the creature fell limp onto the floor, leaving Elenath standing alone and unharmed in the entranceway. Confused, she turned around and covered her mouth with both of her hands.

The Elves gathered could not tell if their princess was laughing or weeping. The only word they could make out as she embraced the one who had saved her life was "Merethiel!"

"Merethiel?" whispered Legolas to himself. Perhaps the she-Elf was tougher than he thought.

"Merethiel!" Elenath half wept and half cried. "By the sea and stars, Cousin, what are you doing here? You saved my life!"

The sword the Lady had been carrying clattered to the floor and the two females were not long in following it – weeping and laughing and embracing one another as if it had been a thousand years since their last meeting.

"I… I saw Dimnarion leaving with things for you and – Oh, please tell me the wretch is dead! – and Legolas left almost at once. I was so afraid for you, El, and felt just awful thinking about staying home waiting for news, so I decided to follow at a safe distance. I… borrowed your old sword, and - Oh, Elenath, what have they done to you?" asked Merethiel through her tears. She groped around in the semi-darkness for the sword that she had dropped. "We need to get you out of here and back into the light so I can see to those wounds."

They tried to stand up, but Elenath found the effort was too much for her, especially as she remembered her own Sword – the one she had lost.

As if reading her mind, Legolas stepped forward and sank to his knees next to the princess, taking both of her hands and speaking quietly. "I have Calmakil, Your Highness. Fear not – the Blade is safe." He could not resist softly touching her swollen cheek. "The laurel will bloom soon," he whispered, "Very soon, my love."

Relief flooded Elenath's features at once. The Sword was safe. Her grandfather would not disown her now; nor would all of Rivendell dismiss her as a careless child. She was so thankful for this that she could do nothing but embrace the prince, tears streaming down her face. "Thank you. Thank you so much, Legolas."

He lifted her into his arms and continued to whisper to her as they journeyed toward sunlight. "Shhh, do not weep, my love. You must save your strength."

They were quiet for a long while, Elenath leaning her head against Legolas' shoulder, taking in the feel of his warmth against her; the scent of him like sandalwood and sage. Long evenings she had spent with this Elf in Merethiel's presence. Long hours in conversation. His heart and spirit seemed to be a perfect match for her own, unlike any other Elf she had ever met. And she had met many. Her grandfather had seen to that. "I needn't wait for the laurel," whispered Elenath at last. "Legolas, my father was right. My heart has found its home with you."

He stopped right there in the darkness and let the others go on a ways down the passage. The light grew very dim. "You are weak, love, and wounded. You should not say such things when you are in such a state."

"But it is true," she insisted. "More true than anything I have ever known."

He sighed, daring only to kiss her forehead softly for fear that the others would come back and find them. "Then I guess that only one thing remains."

"What is that?"

"We must tell your grandfather."