Disclaimer? What disclaimer?

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

CHAPTER 3: IT CAN ALWAYS GET WORSE

            Elrond sat down heavily on his bed, sighing, and laying his head in his hands. There had been a decision by all not to attend dinner with Thranduil, especially since Arwen was plotting his death. A nearby maid had agreed to relay the message that they were still tired from their journey and wished to take their evening meal alone. And Elrond was alone, but he was not eating. He could not bring himself to touch the plate of food that sat next to his bed. He had so many emotions running through him: disgust, anger, fear, sadness, and guilt. Guilt. Yes, it was guilt that he felt most of all.

            He had known Legolas for all of the younger elf's life. Had, in fact, been there to see him born. And the Prince spent so much time in Rivendell, Elrond considered him an unofficial son. To think that for two thousand years this dark secret had been kept from him… no, he had just not seen it. If he had only realized what was going on earlier, something could have been done. And now that he does know, what can he do? If anything should happen to Legolas now, it would be his fault.

            "I had a slight hunch I would find you brooding in here," a voice spoke up from the doorway. The Lord of Imladris, not feeling very lord-like at the moment, turned to Gandalf with a slight frown. Gandalf shut the door behind him and sank into a chair with a sigh not unlike the one Elrond had uttered a few moments ago. Elrond noticed this, but said nothing as the Wizard turned to him. "Must I assure you this is not your fault?"

            "Two thousand years, Mithrandir. Two thousand years of… all this. How could I not have known?" he said quietly, rubbing his face in frustration.

            "How could any of us? You forget, my dear Lord, that you were not alone in this discovery. Your children and even this very old wizard were in the dark about this," Gandalf shook his head. "I'll admit, I had my suspicions about something like this for awhile, but I had no idea it had gone this far." He directed his attention back to Elrond.  "As I said to Legolas earlier, this is in no way your fault, or any of ours, save the Mirkwood King," he nearly spat out the word. He continued on more quietly when he saw his words were beginning to have an effect on Elrond. "You are also not the only one to feel this way," he nodded his head towards the hallway. Elrond obediently turned, and saw that he was indicating the rooms of his children.

            With a rueful nod to Gandalf, Elrond stood up and peeked into the twins' room. There sat Elladan on one bed, back against the wall, eyes staring at nothing. If not for the gentle drumming of his fingers against his leg, Elrond would have thought his oldest to be asleep. Across from Elladan, Arwen and Elrohir were sitting on the floor, their own backs leaning against Elrohir's bed. Arwen had her head resting against her brother's shoulder, while he kept one arm around her as if he thought to protect her from Thranduil as well. Last of all, Elrond watched Aragorn as he paced slightly in front of the window, fingering the hilt of his sword that was now strapped to his waist.

            Elrond took a deep breath as he felt Gandalf come up behind, urging him on. He took the hint. "Well?" he asked, his voice disturbing the silence in the room and causing the four to jump. They turned and stared at him.

            Finally, Elladan found his voice. "Well what?" He sat up a little straighter in confusion. His brothers and sister followed suit, Aragorn taking a place next to Elladan on the bed.

            Elrond smiled painfully. "What would you have me do? We all agree that something must be done about Thranduil, but so far, I have come up with naught to fix this," he then paused. "Since we all feel somewhat responsible for this, I think it is best that we find the solution." The others looked down guiltily at their feelings having been found out. He turned to his other son. "Elrohir, would you go awaken Legolas and bring him and Mekahb here? They should be present when we discuss this." Elrohir nodded and quickly left the room.

            Gandalf spoke up from the doorway as the young Elf disappeared. "Mirkwood has laws preventing this sort of actions from a king, but if Radames is not found or… proven to be dead, then we are still in a dilemma." At the looks of confusion in their eyes, he explained, "Mirkwood also has laws forbidding any but the Crown Prince to take the throne. Which means that until we find out what has happened to Radames, there is not much to be done in stopping Thranduil from remaining king. Oh, we can keep Legolas away from him and the pain he inflicts, but Thranduil will not be punished."

            "But that's not fair!" Aragorn whispered almost hoarsely, trying to both volume and emotion out of his voice.

            "No, it's not. But that is the laws of Mirkwood. They are not the same as Rivendell's. And as we are guests in this realm, it is not our right to confront this," Gandalf answered, almost as an apology.

            "So there is nothing we can do? What about Legolas, what can he do?" Arwen asked from her position on the floor.

            "He-" Elrond abruptly stopped speaking. "He should be back here with Elrohir by now. . ." Suddenly alarmed, then entire group rushed down to the Crown Prince's chambers. Elladan, the first to reach the door, stopped shaken at the entrance. The room was empty except for an unconscious Mekahb lying still on the floor.

            "Mek!" Elladan cried, rushing forward and pulling the Mirkwood Elf into a sitting position. He slowly opened his eyes, groaning at the effort. It was the emotions in his eyes that caused the group concern. Elrond saw fear, sadness, and once again, that ubiquitous guilt.

            "What happened?" Aragorn asked worriedly from a semi-lookout position at the door. The others helped Mekahb to sit on the bed, which they again noted as empty. "Where is Legolas?"

            Mek shook his head as if to clear out unwanted thoughts. "Thranduil came. He must have known that we spoke! He knew he was found out and accused Legolas of treason and betraying Mirkwood to the rulers of Rivendell." He cast sorry eyes upon Elrond. The Lord motioned for him to continue. "He had some other elves with him, his own warriors I did not recognize. They. . . seized them and left. I tried to stop them, but one must have hit me from-"

            "Seized 'them'? What do you mean by them?" Gandalf broke in urgently.

            This time Mekahb looked away, fear evident in his voice. "Legolas and Elrohir. Thranduil took both of them!"

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

            The first thing Legolas saw when he awoke was darkness. Deep, impenetrable darkness. Which is the worst kind, he thought to himself. Slowly, his other sense came back to him. There was a bitter, metallic taste in his mouth, one Legolas recognized from experience; he knew the taste of blood all too well. Next he began to feel the sting and ache from dozens of cuts and bruises over his body, some he noted as fresh. The drops of blood running down the side of his face told him he also had a new gash on his forehead.

It was then that he heard movement beside. Still not sure what was going on, and expecting an attack, he tensed and moved away. At least, he tried to, but any slight movement of his body caused sharp pain to reverberate through his head, which in turn caused him to groan quietly into the darkness.

A familiar hand touched his arm. "Legolas? Can you hear me?" a voice laced with fear and concern rang in his ears. He felt the hand move up to his face and wipe away some of the blood. "Legolas?"

" 'Rohir?" he said hoarsely. Why was his voice so weak? He heard a sigh of relief. Wait- how could Elrohir see through this darkness? He tried to ask, but all that came out was, ". . . Dark. . . ?"

There was a pause. Then, "Legolas, you have to open your eyes."

If he had been able to, he would have given Elrohir his best Elven glare. As it was, he did manage to open his eyes and finally survey his surroundings. He was lying on his back in an empty stone hallway, one end ending abruptly and the other making a sharp turn. Torches were hung every so often, giving off a faint glow. Elrohir was kneeling next to him, wearing a half worried, half amused expression.

"Can you sit up?" he asked. Legolas nodded and was able to without much of Elrohir's help. The older Elf checked the cut on Legolas' head again. "Do you remember what happened?"

Legolas was about to shake his head no when the memories came flooding back to him…

* * * * * * * * * * * *          *          *          *          *

\\\FLASHBACK///

Legolas sighed and dropped his head into his hands even as his body dropped onto his bed. Mek opened his mouth to say-

"Don't." Legolas cut him off.

Mek's eyes widened. "Don't what?"

"Don't say I shouldn't blame myself or that this isn't my fault. I understand that but right now that's how I feel and you telling me otherwise is not going to change anything," Legolas looked up, his eyes almost accusing and definitely defensive.

Finally, Mek shrugged. "I was just going to ask when we could go and eat some dinner."

There was a brief silence and then Legolas began to laugh. Mek joined in, proud of himself for being able to give the Prince at least a moment of happiness. It was then, of course, that Thranduil and twelve of his personal guards burst in. Famous last words, he thought to himself.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Elrohir was about to open the door to Legolas' room when he heard angry voices inside. Immediately rushing in, he found Mek in the corner of the room surrounded by Elves Elrohir had never seen before. Legolas was standing at the foot of his bed, facing off with Thranduil.

"Legolas!" Elrohir cried. Legolas turned towards him, and in that momentary distraction Thranduil backhanded him across the face. Elrohir was about to rush forward, but he was taken aback by this outward display of violence. Up until this point, Elrohir wasn't totally sure if he could believe all that he had learned. But now, as Legolas straightened back up with a new bruise forming under his eye, Elrohir knew that he now supported Arwen's suggestion totally. I'd kill him with my bare hands if I could, he said to himself. Unfortunately, several of Thranduil's guards got in his way.

Legolas stared at his father quietly. Suddenly drawing on all his anger, his pain, and his fear of getting Mek and Elrohir involved in this mess, Legolas did something he had never done before.

He hit back.

At first the room was utterly still. Then Thranduil spit some blood out of his mouth and growled two short words: "Take them." It was as if the gates of Mordor had opened. The guards attacked with ferocity, pain but not murder on their minds. Legolas finally fell to his knees after taken the flat of a sword to the side of his face. Another blow brought him to the floor and just before he blacked out, he saw Elrohir fall beside him.

////END OF FLASHBACK\\\\

* * * * * * * * * * * *          *          *          *          *

That brought Legolas back to the present. He studied Elrohir's face. There was a swirl of emotions in his eyes, but pain was not one of them. Elrohir shifted uncomfortably under the Prince's scrutiny.

"I'm not hurt," he answered the silent question. "I've got a bump the size of a cave troll on the back of my head, but it doesn't hurt too bad and I don't have a concussion."

Legolas nodded, relieved, before looking around again. "Where's Mek?"

"They left him in your room. I don't know how hurt he is." Elrohir stood up, wiping his hands on the front of his tunic.

"All right," Legolas stood up as well. "Then where are we?"

Elrohir looked back at him, frustration finally beginning to show. "I was hoping you'd know," he confided. "I was awake for the most part, but I've never seen this place before. They took us down close to your father's chambers and then we traveled down some flights of stairs-"

"We're still in the palace?!" Legolas turned his head a little too quickly. He closed his eyes and slowed his breath until the dizziness subsided. Then he stared back up at Elrohir incredulously. He had never seen this place before in all his life.

Elrohir nodded, uneasy from Legolas' reaction. "They took us down eight… no, nine flights of stairs. I counted. You have no idea where we are?"

"Elrohir," Legolas' eyes betrayed his seemingly calm voice. "I have only known there to be seven flights of stairs."

* * * * * * * * * * * *          *          *          *          *

Elrond stormed down the palace hallway, the other hurrying to catch up with him. Mirkwood Elves turned to stare or hurried out of the way as the Lord of Imladris stalked past.

"Father, what are you planning to do?" Arwen asked, almost frightened as she caught up with Elrond.

Elrond never broke stride or concentration. "Find my son. And stop this so-called 'King' once and for all."

Aragorn sped up with Elladan right behind him. "But I thought you said that we couldn't-"

Elrond turned a corner abruptly, nearly causing the other to lose their balance. "That was before he intentionally harmed an Elf of another realm. My realm." Aragorn almost shivered at the hardened tone in his voice.

"Elrond, that may be true, but there are other things you haven't considered." Gandalf's voice had a soothing effect on all of them, Elrond included. The Elf Lord slowed his pace but did not stop. Gandalf continued. "If you barge in and anger Thranduil the wrong way, you are doing more harm to Legolas and Elrohir than anyone else. You must act wisely now."

Elrond let out a quiet sigh as he walked. When he spoke, his voice was calmer, "I know, Mithrandir."

They rounded the final corner to Thranduil's chambers. The King was not there, but one of his personal guards was. With no break in his stride, Elrond walked up to the guard and plowed him into the wall, forcing his arm against the guard's throat. A small dagger appeared as if out of nowhere and stopped right in between the guard's eyes. Gandalf seemed to sigh and shake his head, but kept still.

"Where are they?" Elrond asked menacingly.

* * * * * * * * * * * *          *          *          *          *

Elrohir pushed against the wall, knowing it was a useless struggle but hoping all the same. His energy finally spent, he slid into a seated position next to Legolas, panting slightly. "It's official," he said. Legolas raised an eyebrow. "The hidden trap door they used to put us in here cannot be found."

Legolas was able to keep a straight face. "Hence its name."

Elrohir would have glared, but his eternal optimism kicked in. "Then there must be some other way out." He nodded his head towards the end of the hallway. "Shall we?"

The two Elves stood up and began walking. After the first turn they came to another hallway with a fork in the pathway. "Left or right?" Legolas turned to his friend. Elrohir studied the two passageways before tentatively nodding towards the left. Legolas shrugged in response and they turned left. Soon after, however, the two came to a dead end.

"What?!" Elrohir said aloud. He studied the wall while Legolas stood deep in thought. He suddenly looked up. A second later, Elrohir did as well. The same thought had just crossed both their minds.

"Does this look like a-"

"Don't say it Legolas," Elrohir groaned. They looked at each other.

"It's a maze," they said together.

* * * * * * * * * * * *          *          *          *          *

"My Lord Elrond, I don't-" the guard's breath was cut off as Elrond's arm tightened against his throat.

"Listen to me, ingrate. I don't care what your 'King' has told you to say or what he'll do to you otherwise. Right now, my son and your Prince, whom I also consider a son, are missing and I believe I am beyond logical reason at this point. If you don't tell me where they are, what do you think I'll do to you?" all the while as he talked, Elrond's voice became lower and colder and the guard's face became paler. The dagger inched closer.

"Father. . ." Arwen said softly. Elrond turned and looked into her wide eyes. Out of the sight of the guard, he gave her a quick wink before turning back angrily.

"Well?" he asked.

* * * * * * * * * * * *          *          *          *          *

Elrohir led the way into the next left turn and nearly broke his nose when it became another dead end. "I think left turns are starting to become bad luck," he told Legolas, feeling his face to make sure everything was still there.

Legolas stared at him for a moment. "Elrohir, think back on what has happened this day. You think we're 'starting' to have bad luck?"

This time Elrohir did glare. "What I can't understand," he said, deciding to change the subject, "is how your father built this thing without you or anyone else knowing."

Legolas shook his head. "Do you see how old these stones are?" he traced a finger across a brick in the wall. "I'm willing to bet this has been here much longer than my father, maybe even his father, has. Besides-"

The two elves stopped in mid-step before Legolas could finish his thought. They had just come to an open chamber, about the size of a large room, in the maze. There were two lone torches hanging from both sides, and the only way out was directly across from them. However, in between this hall and the two Elves was a large, lean, and thankfully sleeping Warg. Parts of bone and skeletons were littered around its huge form.

"Have you ever seen a Warg that big?" Elrohir whispered to his friend, feeling the panic starting to well up in his stomach. Legolas turned to him, but the expression on his face answered him before any words came out.

"I've never seen anything that big," the Prince answered just as softly before cursing under his breath. "Just another piece of my father's sick mind, I guess."

Elrohir was about to suggest they somehow creep by the sleeping beast when the torches on the wall suddenly and frighteningly blinked out. As if this was planned, the disturbed thought entered his mind. Out loud, still quietly, he gave a sigh of frustration. "Can this possibly get any worse?" he asked Legolas.

The feral growl in the darkness somewhere behind them was his answer…

END OF CHAPTER 3

* * * * * * * * * * * *          *          *          *          *

Was that it? My first real cliff-hanger? I hope so. Oh- my friend was reading this chapter over my shoulder and asked why Arwen and the other Elves didn't call Elrond "Ada" or "Adar" or anything else. My explanation is (to anyone else who might have possibly had this question) that all of the dialogue and conversations in this story are spoken in Elvish, so it would be overly redundant and needless to use Elvish words. I might use them in the next chapter in an inscription or something, but for the record- anything spoken is in Elvish. That's all, folks! See ya in Chapter 4!

ANOTHER AUTHOR'S NOTE: i'm adding this little note because I want some feedback on how I should end part of this story. I've got two different ending planned out, but I can't decide which one to use. so Oh Readers and Reviewers- would you rather Thranduil killed at the end or just banished or imprisoned or whatever. It's basically up to you- have some fun with your suggestions! Thanks so much!

Vanya Sulie,

Nell