DISCLAIMER: Lord of the Rings, and its characters, sadly, do not belong to me. They are the property of JRR Tolkien, et al. No money is gained from the writing of this story. Its sole purpose is for the enjoyment of myself and all who read it.

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Destinies Entwined

Chapter 5

Part One


Sixteen years have passed since the fateful day when Elendil and Meoi met the sons of Elrond. Many times they have longed to return to Imladris, but alas, Illuvitar has chosen to see that they have stayed close to home.

In the past months war has broken out between dwarves and orcs, and though the elves, for the most part, care very little for either side, the fighting has brought the orcs close to the elven realm.

Though the orc encroachment of sixteen years ago was pushed back into the mountains and wastelands, every now and then orcs were bold enough to foray into the woodland realm of the Silvan elves. It was during one such foray that another harsh blow was dealt Elendil.

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Two years after returning to her home, Elendil is beginning to feel restless. Watching her daughter, Lilithien knows what is troubling her. She knows that her daughter longs to see Imladris and Caras Galathon again. Her daughter longs to see a certain Rivendell elf even more. Chuckling softly, she can see just how much of Galen Elendil has in her. Deciding that she too would like to again see the home she had shared so long ago with her husband, Lilithien approaches her daughter. "Mara arin, iell," Lilithien says, approaching her daughter.

"Mara arin, naneth. It is a beautiful day, is it not?" Elendil asks, turning to her mother.

"Yes, it is," Lilithien answers, a far away look in her eyes.

Elendil, unsure of what has brought on the strange look in her mother's eyes, becomes mildly concerned. "Is something troubling you naneth?" she asks.

"No, Elendil, nothing is troubling me," her mother answers with a soft laugh. "I have seen your restlessness iell, and I admit that I too am restless. It has been a long time since last I saw the Golden Wood. There are elves there that I have not seen in many years, friends whom I miss dearly. I was thinking of journeying there. Would you like to join me? On our return trip maybe you could show me the beauty of Imladris," she adds, knowing exactly what her daughter's reaction would be.

"Of course I would like to join you naneth," Elendil says, her spirits lifting at the thought. "Do you mind if I invite Meoi to come along as well?"

"Not at all. I enjoy watching the two of you together,"Lilithien answers. As Elendil bounces off to find her friend, Lilithien can't help but laugh at her daughter's excitement. She knows the excitement stems not from journeying to Lorien, but to Rivendell. As she goes off to make the arrangements, Lilithien wonders just what she will think of the elven prince that has captured her daughter's heart.

Three days out from Mirkwood, they are attacked by a small band of orcs. The attackers are quick and fierce, and though they are defeated, it has cost the elves much. Lilithien is fatally wounded. An orc arrow has pierced her left lung and she is slowly strangling to death on her own blood.

"Naneth," Elendil cries, holding her mother close.

"Do not... cry... iell. We will see... each other again. Your ada and I... will be waiting... in the undying lands," Lilithien whispers, smiling at her daughter as she breathes her last breath in this world.

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Standing there in the sunlight fourteen years later, Elendil makes no move to stop the tears thatare coursing down her cheek. "I miss you, naneth," she whispers, remembering the day her mother was taken from her.

"I miss her, too," Meoi says softly, remembering the same event. "Her loss was felt by so many. And it still is felt by some," she adds, giving her friend the comfort she desperately needs. "There is still hope though. You will be with them again, in the undying lands."

"I know Meoi. It is just that I lost her on this day, fourteen years ago, and so the memory is stronger than usual."

"Ah mellon non. I wish there was more I could do."

"You're here. That's enough."

"You're worried for Legolas, aren't you?" Meoi asks, changing the subject.

"Yes. Every time he goes to scout out the situation between the dwarves and orcs I fear for his safety. I can't seem to help it. I have already lost too many loved ones to those foul creatures."

"I know mellon nin, I know," Meoi says softly.

As night approaches, Elendil becomes very uneasy. She can sense trouble in the air, but is unsure of where it comes from. As the night progresses, the unease continues to grow and she fears that her cousin may very well be in danger.

The following day, Legolas finally returns, accompanied by a very injured human laying on a makeshift stretcher. Watching as her cousin sees to the human, making sure he is not injured any further, Elendil hides her smile.

The sight of the elven prince showing such tenderness for a human surprises all who see it. All who are present know of the prince's dislike and mistrust of humans due to the circumstances of his past dealings with them.

It is several days before any of the other elves see Legolas or the human again. The young man still bears much of the injuries he sustained, but he is slowly healing. The worst of his injuries were a wound to his thigh and his temple. Watching the protectiveness with which her cousin deals with the young human, Elendil can't help but laugh gently. Approaching the unlikely pair, Elendil shakes her head. Looking at the young man, Elendil feels a slight pull of familiarity.

"Mara arin, cousin," Elendil says, trying to figure out why the human seems familiar.

"Mara arin to you as well," Legolas says, unconsciously stepping closer to the human when several warrior elves pass by.

"Since my cousin seems to have forgotten his manners, allow me to introduce myself. I am Elendil, Lord Thranduil's niece and Legolas' cousin", she says, smiling at the young man, trying to dispel some of the unease emanating from him.

"I am Strider, Ranger of the North. I am pleased to make your acquaintance, my lady," the young man says. Looking at her quizzically, he shakes his head. "I feel as though I should know you. Your name bears a faint familiarity in it, Lady Elendil."

As the young human says her name, a memory from some years ago rises to the surface. With a quiet gasp, Elendil realizes who it is standing before her. "And so you should," she responds. "Though you may not remember. You were but a small child, Estel, son of Lord Elrond."

Hearing his cousin call the young man by that name, Legolas is taken aback. "How do you...?" he asks.

"Sixteen years ago Meoi and I traveled to Imladris. You know this cousin. You were with Elladan and Elrohir when 'Dan was poisoned by that creature." Turning to the young man, she remembers the precocious imp he had been as a child. "I see a young man in the child I once held in my arms. It is good to know that your brothers have been able to keep you from getting yourself killed thus far," Elendil says, laughing softly.

"I remember what you speak of now. 'Dan was injured and I thought he was going to die. I remember an elven lullaby soothing my fears, not once but twice."

"So, what has brought you all the way to Mirkwood, and in such condition?" the she- elf asks, smiling at the young man. He has grown strong and true, and there is a loyalty in his eyes that speaks of his instant connection with Legolas.

"I do not remember seeing a child," Legolas says, turning questioning eyes on his cousin.

"That, cousin, is because you left the room before he arrived. And left almost as soon as you knew that 'Dan would be all right," she tells him, still using the nickname.

"Ah. I see," Legolas says.

"Do not worry Legolas. As far as anyone else will know, your young friend is Strider, Ranger of the North. I'll not speak otherwise." she says, grinning impishly.

"Really? Does that include Meoi?" he asks, teasing her.

"Meoi, of course, is the only exception," she counters, smiling. "Well, I shall leave the two of you to whatever it is you are about," she adds, walking off.

Wondering if the young man's elven brothers will be following him to Mirkwood, Elendil goes in search of her friend.

"Mara arin, Meoi," Elendil says, when she finds her friend. "You will never guess with whom I have just spoken," she says, excitement in her voice.

"Okay then. I won't even try. Why don't you just tell me," she says, with mock annoyance.

Rolling her eyes, Elendil smiles. "Do you remember little Estel of Rivendell? The human brother of 'Dan and 'Ro?"

"How could I forget! He kept playing tricks on me while we were there," she says, feigning anger.

Although there is no one around to hear their conversation, Elendil leans in closer to her friend. "The young human Legolas brought in a few days ago, he is Estel."

"Yeah, right," Meoi says, thinking her friend is teasing her.

"Truly. He is Estel."

"I thought his name was Strider?" Meoi asks, confused.

"As far as anyone else will know, it is. Other than you and I, Legolas is the only other one who knows."

"If Es...Strider is here, does that mean 'Ro and 'Dan will be here soon as well?" Meoi asks, excitement filling her voice.

"I don't know, but I sure hope so. I have missed 'Dan's stubbornness more than I realized."

"Only you could miss someone's stubborness," her friend says, teasing her.

"That is true. Only I could miss something like that,", Elendil says, laughing.

As the days fly by, and the friendship between Legolas and Strider strengthens, Elendil begins to consider the possibility that the twin sons of Elrond were not going to follow their young human brother to Mirkwood after all.

Although for the most part, the warrior elves are the hunters, hunting is also something that both Elendil and Meoi enjoy doing as well. Feeling restless, Elendil decides she needs to get away from the palace for a while.

"I have a proposition for you Meoi," Elendil says early one morning. "What say we go on a little hunting foray. I am going stir crazy. I need to DO something besides sit around here impatiently."

"I say it's a perfect idea. I've been a bit restless myself," Meoi says, her eyes lighting up at the thought. "Of course, you know your uncle will want us to have guards with us, don't you?" she adds, impishly.

"Yes. I've thought of that. I was thinking of having Thandien and Arethien accompanying us. We will not need a large number of guards. It's not as though we are helpless she-elves after all."

"True mellon nin. We've definitely proven that in the past," Meoi says, before thinking about the memories her words would bring up. "Forgive me mellon nin. I was thoughtless."

"There's nothing to forgive Meoi. I will speak with my uncle of our wishes," Elendil says, changing the subject. "Perhaps we shall be able to leave on the morrow." With that, she walks away, memories of the past struggling to infect the joy of looking forward to the hunting foray.She knows her uncle will agree, as long as she agrees to be cautious and to take guards with her.

The following morning, the two she-elves ride out with just two guards, intent on spending at least a few days out hunting. The first two days are uneventful. Though this is supposed to be a hunting foray into the forest, the two she-elves are in no extreme hurry to do so, and neither are their elven guards. They are all very comfortable in each other's company and are in no hurry to return to the palace.

Three days after leaving the palace behind, the elves are preparing the evening meal as the last rays of the sun slip from the sky. Although the war between the dwarves and orcs had intensified, neither group has been seen this far from the mountainous terrain surrounding the dwarven mine of Moria. Feeling at ease, the companions let their guard down, just a little.

Sitting around the campfire, enjoying each other's company, they are caught completely off guard when the forest erupts with the sounds of orcs. Within moments, the foul beasts come crashing through the trees and attack what they think will be easy prey.

Although the elves were startled by the orcs, they recover quickly, and pull their daggers, forming a loose circle, their backs to each other. Parrying the thrusts and lunges from the orcs, the little group is slowly being separated and cut off from one another.

Arethien, working to keep himself from being surrounded, slowly backs up to the bank of a swift moving stream that runs into the Great River. Trying to keep his footing while avoiding the orcs' blades, spares a glance behind him at the stream. The instant he does this, the orc on his left thrusts its sword at him, piercing his side and sending the elf backwards into the stream. In the seconds before his head goes under the water, he sees Thandien go down under the force of an orc hammer to the side of
his head.

Fighting hard against the panic that is building inside her, Elendil watches Arethien get stabbed by the orc and fall into the rushing water as if it all happened in slow motion. The look of fear and failure on his face cuts her deeper than any orc blade ever could. Turning her attention back to the orcs that have surrounded her, Elendil watches in shock as a heavy orc hammer comes crashing down on the side of Thandien's head.

Bloody and wounded, Elendil struggles to hold on to her waning strength. The orcs were way too many, and there were too few allies. As she parries a blow from an orc that has gotten in a few good thrusts, Elendil's attention is drawn to the last of her companions still standing. Meoi is bleeding profusely from several gashes she has sustained while fighting the orcs. Her strength is quickly waning with the loss of blood and she seems to be doing little damage to the orcs.

After watching both Arethien and then Thandien fall under the onslaught, she knows that she and Elendil are fighting a losing battle, but neither she-elf is willing to give up. Stumbling over the body of a fallen orc, Meoi loses her concentration. Feeling a sharp, searing pain in her side, she looks down and sees a long crimson stain forming where the blade has sliced through her.

Grabbing her side, she falls to her knees and is knocked unconscious by an orc.
Trying to fight her way over to her friend's side, Elendil stares in horror as the orc's blade slices into her friend just moments before something heavy crashes down on her head, sending her into sweet oblivion.

Part Two

Dragging himself out of the stream two miles from where he fell in, Arethien lies there gasping for much needed oxygen. The pain in his side is intense, but he has nothing he can put on it to dull the pain. Tearing his tunic, he places a patch on the wound and ties the strip of his tunic around his body, pressing it tight to halt the flow of blood.

Rising from the bank of the stream, he slowly makes his way back to where they were attacked. There are orc bodies everywhere, but no sign of his companions. It is good that they are not dead yet for it means there is still hope. His only fear is that they will be too late.

Struggling with pain and weakness from the loss of blood, Arethien slowly makes his way back to the palace. He walks on through the night, praying to Illuvitar that the spiders or wargs don't get him and that his companions survive long enough to be saved.

Not stopping to rest, Arethien reaches the palace gates the following morning. The elves guarding the gate are shocked by his appearance, but he does not stop long enough to tell them anything. He makes his way to the dining hall where he knows Lord Thranduil will be enjoying the morning meal.

As the bedraggled, beaten elf enters the dining hall, all conversation stops as all who are present stare in shock at his condition. The moment he stops moving, his head gets cloudy and he starts to sway on his feet.

Rushing over to his side, Ranien catches the younger elf before he can fall. "Mellon nin, what has happened? Where are the others?" he asks, leading Arethien to a chair.

"We were attacked by orcs," he whispers, his body aching all over. Though he is sitting, the dizziness has not eased and he knows it is from the extreme loss of blood. Looking up as a shadow moves in front of him, Arethien stares up into the very concerned face of Lord Thranduil.

"Arethien, where are the others? Where is my niece? Where is Elendil?"

At the mention of the she-elf, Elladan's head snaps up and fear for the she-elf darkens his eyes.

"We had just set up camp and were enjoying the late evening my lord. We were unprepared. We were so far from Moria, we didn't think we needed to be so cautious. We were overrun and attacked by orcs, my lord."

"Orcs?", Thranduil asks, face paling at the thought.

"Yes, my lord. The others were taken. The only reason I'm here is because I fell into a stream after being wounded in the side. I don't... I don't know if they yet live or not my lord," Arethien says, failure in his eyes.

"It is alright Arethien. There is nothing you could have done. There were too many orcs and you were wounded. Had you not fallen into the stream, no one here would know of this until it was too late. Ranien, take him to the healing hall, and find out where they were camped."

"Yes, my lord", Ranien says, fear for his friends evident on his face.

"Lord Thranduil", Elladan says, approaching him. "I would like to accompany the rescue party that I know you will be sending out," he adds, anger for the orcs and fear for the she-elf warring for control.

Stepping up beside Elladan, Elrohir also offers to go. "You can count me in as well Lord Thranduil," Elrohir says. "Elladan and I know what those creatures are capable of. The sooner they are rescued, the better," he says, the same vehemence apparent in his twin.

"Very well," Thranduil says as Ranien returns to the dining hall. "Did he tell you anything useful?" he asks.

"Yes my lord. He told me where they were camped when they were attacked. It should be fairly easy to track them from there."

"I'm coming too," Strider says, approaching with a slight limp. "Don't start 'Dan," he says knowing exactly what his brother is about to say. "I'm coming and that's final," he adds, quiet determination in his eyes.

"We don't have time to argue. My cousin's life is in danger," Legolas says, striding quickly from the room.

As the others follow Legolas out of the dining hall, several other elves join them and in less than a half hour they ride out following Ranien to where Arethien said the attack took place.

"This doesn't look good," Strider says, looking down at a pool of blood that is shimmering slightly in the late afternoon sun. Even before touching it, he knows it is elf blood. He has seen enough of it over the years with his brothers to know what it is. "There's too much blood here for it to be from a minor wound," he says, his concern mounting. "We need to find them and find them fast, or it will be too late," he adds, searching around for any other signs of elven injury.

There are some small spots here and there of elven blood, but no other large ones.
Luckily, the trail the orcs left behind is easy for them to follow. An hour before sundown, the trail ends at the mouth of an enormous cave.

"Caves. I hate caves," Legolas mutters to himself.

"Well, we've found where the orcs have taken them. What's the plan?" Strider asks softly.

"We go in there and get them out, and kill any orcs that get in the way," Elladan says, moving to do exactly as he said.

"Wait! If we go in there now, they'll just kill us all, 'Dan," Elrohir says. "You said the orcs and dwarves have been fighting," Elrohir says quietly to Legolas.

"Yes. Every night. Are you thinking what I think you are?" Legolas asks, a smile crossing his face.

"Possibly. If we wait for the sun to set, the orcs will leave and then we can get in there and get the others out without getting ourselves killed," Elrohir whispers. "Even if some of the orcs are left behind we'll still have a better chance."

"I guess you're right 'Ro," Elladan says grudgingly. "We wait until the orcs leave."

Just as the last twinges of light begin to slip from the sky, the horrible sounds of orcs echoes out of the cave at the elves who are waiting silently, hidden from view behind trees and shrubs. After the orcs swarm from the cave and disappear, Legolas leaves several elves outside the cave to watch for the orcs return. Swallowing his intense revulsion for caves, he leads the others into the huge gaping maw of rock.

The cave is musty and dank with the stench of orcs. Going deeper into it's belly, they come to three different corridors. Splitting up, the elves search for their missing friends. Entering a large open cavern, Legolas gasps at what he finds. As Strider, Elladan and Elrohir enter behind him they see what has caused his distress.

Running over to the still grey forms of Elendil, Meoi and Thandien, they are afraid to touch them for fear of what they may find. "'Dan, 'Ro, go get the other elves," Strider says, taking control of the situation. "We will need stretchers made to carry them out. Move!" he orders gently. After his elven brothers rush off to get the others and prepare stretchers, Strider approaches the three still forms. Reaching out, he touches one of the elves, feeling for a pulse. "I fear we may have arrived too late after all."

TBC...