Chapter Three

Aragorn looked over at his twin brothers. As usual, they were teasing each other. Elladan lightly punched his twin in the shoulder over a taunt Elrohir had flung at him. Elrohir turned on his brother. Aragorn rolled his eyes. He should have seen this coming. Elrohir threw his foot out to trip Elladan, who stumbled, turned around and grabbed Elrohir's arms, trying to push him over backwards. Aragorn tried to smother his urge to laugh.

"Stop it! Stop it, Elladan!" Elrohir cried, staggering and laughing. "Stop it, we're going to fall!"

"Of course you'll fall!" Elladan replied, also laughing hard. "That's the whole idea!"

At that, Aragorn gave up his attempt at self-control, and burst out laughing as if all the elflings of Middle-Earth and Aman were tickling him with the feathers of all the birds of Arda. Just then, Elladan succeeded in shoving Elrohir backwards and fell on top of him. Aragorn was not close enough to see the look that passed between the twins as they wrestled on the ground. They slyly approached him, rolling over each other as they went.

"Hey!" Estel called over their laughter. "Watch where you're going!"

If his half-elven brothers heard him, they did not respond. A few seconds later, Aragorn tried to jump out of the way as the two rolled into him, but it was too late. The wrestling match between the twins became a light-hearted fist fight between the three brothers. Elrohir grabbed a handful of ragweed and tickled Aragorn's nose with it as Elladan held him down. Estel's sneeze was so loud that the elves on the western border of Mirkwood could hear him. Elladan laughed. Aragorn grabbed a handful of dirt and threw it into the elder twin's hair.

"All right," Elladan yelled with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "That does it, little brother."

Elladan tackled his mortal brother and smeared his face into the small area of dust where Aragorn had grabbed the dirt he had thrown. All three then rose to their feet and brushed off.

"Well, now that you two have stopped acting like children," Estel observed with a teasingly superior air. "It is high time to be back on our horses. If, that is, we are to reach the border of Mirkwood today."

********

They reached the eaves of Mirkwood at mid-day. There the twins turned off the road to proceed to Anganor and Aragorn continued into the heart of Mirkwood.

That evening, Estel reached Thranduil's palace. It was with great reluctance that the gate guards allowed Aragorn to enter. One led the mortal to the brightly lit throne room.

Aragorn turned to the elven throne, but the seat was empty. He scanned the room, searching for the king of the forest. Estel saw him in a far corner, soothing a weeping elf-maid. He walked over to the elven king and knelt on one knee before him. Thranduil turned to him.

"Im Estel Elrondion, hir nin," Aragorn introduced himself. He felt quite nervous, fearing that Thranduil might reject his aid merely because he was a mortal. "My father sent me when he received your letter about... about Legolas,' he continued quietly in Sindarin. "I hope I may be of aid in finding the prince."

Thranduil's eyes filled with tears at these words. "Rise, young Dunadan," he said quietly. "Hannon le be dulu lin. In the morning, I will lead you to the place where he was taken, although I know not what good it will do."

"Sire," Aragorn told him. "I am a ranger. I have had much practice tracking as such. Mayhap I shall find some sign that your searchers missed. Even an elf is not impossible to track."

The maiden started and looked up at Estel. "You mean to say that you suspect an elf of doing this thing?" she asked.

Aragorn smiled at her. "Nay, my lady," he assured her. "I merely meant that, should I find no other signs, I may be able to follow the prince's own trail."

The maid smiled gratefully at Elrond's mortal son. "Then, when you leave tomorrow," she told him. "Go with the thanks of Laigaladh Thranduiliel, and please..." Here she hesitated.

"Yes, my lady?" Estel urged.

"Please at least bring news of the entire patrol," she murmured, looking down and blushing. "My betrothed is also with that patrol."

********

Early the next morning, Thranduil himself led Aragorn to the place where Legolas and the patrol were kidnapped. Estel carefully examined the ground. "Look here, your majesty," he called Thranduil came running to where Aragorn was kneeling. The young man held a small cloth in his hand. There was a dark red stain in the centre of the cloth. "Smell it, sire," Aragorn ordered.

Thranduil did so. "Sidhnen!" he cried, horror and understanding dawning on his face. "I'm going after him!"

"You can't, my lord!" Estel objected, holding the elven king's arm. "If you're caught, you, Legolas and the patrol are all doomed! Let me go. As a mortal, I can blend in with them. I'll find your son and bring him home, I promise you! Please, for your son's sake!"

"Aye, young man," Thranduil said, as he sat dejectedly beside the young ranger. "You are right. My presence would only endanger my son and my people. Go with my blessing. May the stars shine on your path."

Aragorn bid the elven king a heart-felt farewell. He studied the ground for a moment and took off at a fast clip. Within a few minutes, Estel was merely a black speck in a sea of grass, even to Thranduil's elven eyes.