Eeek! *Avoids rotten vegetables being hurled in this direction* I am soo sorry! I can't even give you a proper excuse, I just ummm… forgot. Terrible, I know, but it's been a hectic week. It's here now though, luckily I'd already written it. I feel bad, sorry, it struck me at about 10pm last night and I didn't have time to proofread it or write review replies so I left it until this morning. Apologies. Anyway, I'll give you an update ('cause I know you want it) from events in the BlaineBother Box © I made that up myself, good innit?! The art of Blaine baiting has become the new British pastime; egg throwing, smashing golf balls from Tower Bridge, pointing laser pens at him so he thinks there's a sniper about to shoot him (that was my favourite) hurling abuse and playing drums to keep him awake at night are all part of this… aaw you almost feel sorry for him… *cough* Surprisingly enough, I haven't joined in yet. Poor gormless, non-personality, hairy nutter of an American… he should've done it in the States, we're a logical bunch, the British and we see no logic in this stunt, so instead we torment him, cruel but satisfying. Hehe…   

Chapter Seven: A Grave Separation

The wind whispered around them, the gloomy grey clouds rumbling in around the land. The trees and hills had gone strangely silent; the twittering of the birds and chirp of the crickets in the grass had died down, as if all were watching this grisly execution. Legolas watched Donvan carefully, his dark eyes impassive as he raised his sword, glancing quickly to his right and left, he noticed the others had backed away a little. His grip tightened around his sobbing companion, one arm wrapped around his slim torso and the other hand holding firmly onto his arm, his foot firmly pressed into the ground as he knelt. He could feel Estel's heart beating in his chest. Donvan took a step toward them, the blade shining threateningly in the daylight.

Another step.

Do something.

Sword raised.

Move.

Deep breath.

Move.

Now.

Legolas clung onto the youth and leapt into the river with a massive splash. Plunging to the bottom, he felt Estel struggling in his grips and so let go of his body, but held onto his wrist with all his might as the current drove them along fiercely. Donvan watched them resurface further downstream, his bow poised. He aimed and released, the arrow whistling through the air. Estel cried out, it missed him by only an inch and more followed. He slipped under the viscous torrent, the icy water felt like a hundred knives stabbing at his chest. The elf pulled him back up coughing and spluttering, gasping for air.

"Kick!" Legolas cried. "You must swim with the current or you will keep going under!"

"I can't! It is t-too cold!" Estel wheezed.

He looked at the labouring child, his legs flailing weakly, straining to stay afloat. He would have struggled even if he were fully fit, but the culmination of his torture had left him feverish and frail, powerless against the wild waters. It was a rash act, but what else could he have done? If Estel were well, and they were armed, together they could have taken them on, although Donvan was not a force to contend with alone. The river may well prove to be their end, but at least they had tried to escape. The last thing he wanted was to venture further south; he did not know the land and did not want to. But at least Estel was out of their grasp. For now at least.

Estel desperately tried to do as his friend instructed, but the cold rushed through his veins, making his whole body ache like never before. He willed himself to move but his legs wouldn't respond. The only warmth he felt was Legolas' grip on his wrist. They were dragged along relentlessly until the spot where they had jumped was no longer visible. The current was so swift that trying to swim to the bank was fruitless, they could only hope it would slow down before all the energy they possessed was spent.

He continued to be heaved around, an undercurrent emerging so that his legs were tugged from below. No longer did he have the strength to at least try and swim with the flow. Estel felt his legs give up and his body pulled from below. Tossing and twisting, Legolas' grip was wrenched away and he was dragged below the surface. Helplessly, he grappled for the elf's arm but couldn't reach it. Kicking off a rock, he burst to the surface once more, gasping and spitting out the river water. His eyes burned as he looked around for his companion and realised that he was at least thirty feet further down stream.

"Legolas!" He cried as another torrent crashed over his face.

* * *

The day closed in, the dark hours of the night creeping from over the far away mountains in the east, but still the orange glow of the sunset lingered across the vast land. Immense rain clouds were assembling slowly in the evening sky, devouring the last glimpses of day and a wicked breeze grumbled along the waterway, ruffling through the tall reeds. A single raindrop fell from the sky and struck him on his cheek, but he didn't react. Lying on his front in the mud, the river, now far calmer, flowed at his feet, the water splashing across his legs. Blood seeped from his temple, the result of an encounter with some unexpected rapids, rocks that had torn his skin, battering his already fragile body. He had not seen the last boulder, it lay hidden underneath the fizzing white waters and his head had cracked against it helplessly. That was enough to lose his battle with consciousness, but he was happy to lose that fight. The agony of the biting cold attacking his limbs and freezing his veins had been arduous on his young body and falling into unconsciousness had been a blessing.

The heavens opened, and a wash of icy rain pelted down on his skin painfully. His already soaked hair clung to his face and eyes in a knotted mess, small cuts and darkening bruises littered over his whole body and the nasty gash he had sustained the night before had reopened, leaving puddles of red-tinted water at his side. He stirred a little and coughed up some water. Rubbing his eyes, he rolled onto his side tentatively. He shivered. Glancing around his surroundings warily, he climbed to his feet and wiped off some of the mud that clung to his skin.

"Legolas?" He called out quietly.

There was no reply. The dark, menacing forms of withered old trees hung over the river, silent and still. He rubbed his head, the painful throbbing making his mind swim uncomfortably. A hoot of an owl made him jump and he spun around quickly to face the looming trees, his heart thumping fiercely in his chest. Pulling himself onto the shore, the rain beating against his smarting back, he strained to see in the growing gloom.

"Legolas?" Estel cried a little louder.

Again, there was no response, so he picked up a rock and carved an 'E' roughly into the bark of an old tree in case the elf passed this way. He limped along the riverside, shaking from the cold, his toes numb but still his head burned with fever. Feeling sick and dizzy, he steadied himself against a tree tiredly. Blood dribbled down his hip sluggishly and his whole side ached dully.

"Where are you?" He moaned softly, pushing his dark matted locks behind his ears.

His eyes searched the thick woodland frantically, but there was no light; the moon obscured by the thick clouds. A gust of wind flurried around the unfamiliar land, making him colder still. His lip quivered and a reluctant tear rolled down his bloodied cheek but he pushed himself on. A slight rustle far away startled him, his heart leaping into his throat. His vision blurred momentarily and he rubbed his eyes desperately, sinking to the ground under the relative shelter of a willow tree. Estel pulled his legs in close to his body and tried to massage some feeling back into them. Even though the bleak shadows of night had descended on the hills and the silvery glow of the moon couldn't pierce the dense clouds, the sinister bruises and streaks of blood running down his shins were plain to see. Slumping his head back against the trunk, chilly drops of rain dripped limply from his tangled locks onto his tired shoulders, he sighed softly. He was so exhausted but he didn't dare close his eyes.

It must have been several hours at least since he'd seen his elven friend and he longed to see his face once more. No longer did he have to look at Carinyc's cruel face, but those eyes burned into his memory and would not leave. He grimaced; every part of his body screamed with pain and his stomach growled hungrily as it had done for days. He ignored both; what else could he do? He had to keep moving and find Legolas.

Pulling himself to his throbbing feet again, he stumbled on, unsure whether he should go up or downstream and eventually elected to follow the flow of the river; at least then he would be trying to get further away from Raenir and the others.

"Legolas! Manke naa lle?"[Where are you?] He shouted in the elf's native tongue.

He flinched as a loud growl of thunder boomed around him. A crack of a twig nearby alarmed him and he hid behind a tree.

"Legolas?" He whispered, knowing his elven ears would hear if it were he.

There was no reply, but he could hear heavy footfalls approaching. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down; it wasn't Legolas, he would never make that much noise. No, it was definitely men, three at least. Their voices echoed through the trees. His heart thumped and his mouth went dry. He couldn't work out whether they were walking along the bank or through the forest. Stay or run? Their voices grew louder; they had similar accents to Raenir and his company, but how it could they have got here so soon? Make a decision. His knees quaked and head spun. They're in the forest. Run or they'll catch you, he ordered himself.

Taking a deep breath, he scaled around the tree trunk until he faced the tree and began to scamper away.

"Hey! Who goes there?" He heard a gruff voice cry.

Estel stopped in his tracks and turned to see four men standing about ten feet away, their torch burning brightly in the gloom, a warm glow lighting up their stern faces. His breath caught in his throat and he backed away.

"Who are you, boy?" Another asked, stepping forward, his dark eyes glinting in the firelight.

The young boy trembled, his head swimming and throbbing making him a little giddy.

He stumbled backwards. "Where are you, Legolas?" Estel shouted, not really acknowledging the men.

"You're hurt." One said softly, approaching the terrified child. "Did you fall in the river?"

Estel backed away further, before scurrying into the forest. He stumbled over the uneven ground, his lungs heaving as he clambered over a rock. He could hear them following. He had to get away. They couldn't catch him. He couldn't go through it again. Move. He pushed past another tree; it was so dark he couldn't see more than two feet ahead. He glanced behind; the glow of their torch was visible through the dense brush, the shadows of the hooded figures were not far behind. His foot splashed into a small stream, taking him by surprise, but still he ran. He had no choice. The trees began to thin out and he found himself dashing across an open plain, a mist settling over the land, making it even harder to see where he was going. He didn't care where he ended up, as long as it wasn't in their grasp. His legs pounded against the grass, aching terribly, blood streaming down them.

But he began to slow, any last remnant of energy he had was gone and his legs began to fail under him. He tripped and went crashing to his knees. He groaned as, what felt like a hundred daggers slashing at his body, overcame him, leaving him lying vulnerably in the wet grass. Estel heard them grind to halt beside him, and felt a powerful hand turn him onto his back.

He squinted up at them, his chest felt like it would burst but he could run no more. He shook terribly, his temple pounding as they knelt over him, faces grim and unfriendly.

Tbc…

LOTRFaith – Donvan is a man of many layers, we'll find out more about him in the latter chapters. If I ever finish them, I know what happens though, so it's okay if I don't post it all… Mwahahahahaha

ErabuHikari – I'm going as fast as I can! Jeez… I can't believe I just said jeez – damn these bloody American sitcoms that swamp digital TV! Feh.

Alex mistress squirrel – I guess it is suspenseful, sorry, I have inane lust of cliffhangers and this story is riddled with them.

TigerLily713 – I'm not anti-American! *cough* Shh – you can't be anti-US in these times unless you're a terrorist and I can't be arsed to terrorise people. Blaine is more than a poser; he's an idiot. And he's swamping all the TV channels with his bloody adverts. Stupid bloody monkey boy.

Wolfete – Sorry dude, welcome to the fan fic world, I'm Alice and I'll be your host for the next 13 or so more chapters. I absolved myself from any emotional, physical or psychological damage caused by my cliffies, but cos you're new, I apologise.

Lei Dumbledore – Oi! I'll have no Harry Potter (aka rip off of LOTR) fan telling me I'm evil! Feh to you! Then again, you like my story so I'll be nice… sorry way too much tea this morning…

Eph – Thanks, I'd send you ch8 early, but I dunno if it'll be done in time 'cause I start college next week. We'll have to wait and see, but I will send you one chapter (maybe the final one) early before the end!

Xsilicax – Woo! Emotional issues! I want a Tardis, if you give it to me, then I will stop with the cliffies. Non-magician boy can't touch me, he's gone mad and keeps chanting 'Onion' so I don't really see him as a threat… unless he hallucinates that I'm an onion and tries to eat me.

Jadelyn Rashwe – Hehe… the more everyone says they hate cliffies, the more I'll do them. I'm British, we're evil like that… Go go go? Ooh, I feel like I'm in a Grand Prix… where's Schumacher? Let me crash into him.

Grumpy - *cough* well aren't you clever? Bloody guessing the next bloody bit of my bloody story… grr. ;-) Please take Blaine back, I don't think he like us anymore. He keeps waving to the crowds and they just throw stuff at him, take him for his own safety!

Tithen Min – Bah. I guess I get no medication then… oh well, I like being mad. Early Saturday/early Sunday, what's the difference eh? It's still warm and sunny down here… where's SoS btw?! If you've updated then ignore that little rant…

TrinityTheSheDevil – Err… what window? I found an excuse – I posted late because an over-zealous reader throttled me. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. I'm not mean, I light up your meaningless little lives (I mean that in a nice way)