Disclaimer: It's not mine, it's JRR Tolkien's. I'd just like to borrow it for a while. Don't bother suing, as all I own are my DVDs and you won't get those unless you pry them from my cold, dead fingers. ~ Linwë Serégon

Slightly AU, but if you have a very liberal sort of mind it fits in.

Thanks to my beta reader – Roobug.

Sorry for the delay in updating, I've been on my holidays.

Ambush - Missing

Elladan sat at the table, a goblet of wine in his hand, lounging back his legs draped over the arm of the chair. His day had been good, the mare he had expected to foal, had not let him down and produced a fine young foal, which would grow into a fine stallion like its father. He was tired but happy; father would be pleased. He had noticed that his father had been a little morose recently, not so ready to laugh and joke with them. The burden of running Imladris must be getting to him, he decided. His stomach growled its demand for food. The others were late coming to table. But just then Estel wandered in, looking around searchingly.

'Have you seen Father?'

'No, but he normally takes a walk in the garden before dinner.'

'Who takes a walk?' asked Glorfindel as he entered the room. 'Where's Elrond?'

'I've just asked that,' said Estel. 'He's not in the garden, I've just been out looking for him.'

'He's more than likely fallen asleep in the bath, he keeps doing that. Last week he nearly drowned himself. You should have heard the noise.' laughed Elladan.

'Has anyone seen father?' asked Elrohir as he to entered the room. 'I've just popped into his room to borrow a book but he's not there. And the book I wanted was wet. He's been reading in the bath again.'

'Do you know, last week he gave me such a dressing-down for leaving a book lying face down. 'Do you realise that you damage the spines of books when you do that,'' Elladan mimicked. They all laughed, Elrond was blind to his own faults when handling his precious books, but let someone else mistreat them…

Estel suddenly snapped his fingers.

'I know where he is. He's gone to the stone seat. It's nearly that time of year again isn't it?'

They all nodded, yes, it would soon be the anniversary of Celebrían leaving for the havens.

'He'll be up there right now, remembering.' said Estel.

'Up there brooding, you mean.' said Glorfindel. It had been over four hundred years since Elrond's beloved wife had left, but still every year as Arda began to stir into life after winter, he punished himself with wishful thinking of what might have been.

'I'll go to him,' said Glorfindel, 'He shouldn't be left alone.'

'He won't thank you,' said Elrohir, 'He nearly bit my head off last year when I went to talk to him about Mother.'

Again, the gathered group nodded, he was best left alone. They knew his melancholy would not last long. Then he would want to talk about the times before their mother's wounding. Happier times when the world had seemed brighter.

Early the next morning Estel was still lying in bed, in that dreamy state between sleep and wakefulness. The door to his room was thrown open with such force that it rebounded onto the person opening it.

'Estel, are you awake?' It was Glorfindel, looking very flustered.

'Well I wasn't but I am now. What's up?'

'Elrond's not been to his room, his bed's not been slept in.'

'He'll still be by the stone seat.'

'No, I've already been up there, he's not there. I can't find him anywhere. I'm getting a bit worried about him.'

'Okay, I'll go and look for him. Get the twins up- they can help.'

Estel rose from his bed and quickly dressed, grabbing the first items of clothing that came to hand, then stamped into his boots and went out to the garden. He cast his eyes around the area. Yes, his father had stood just outside the paved area, for quite a while, the impressions were deep. Then, as usual, he had taken a slow stroll around the garden, pausing and checking on several of the plants. Estel could even see where he had pinched out the odd top of shrubs to encourage bushy growth. There was were he stood under the lilac, then a scuff as he turned quickly.

'Have you found him yet, little brother?' asked Elladan, walking towards him and still pulling on his tunic.

'Glorfindel's got himself into a right old state. I bet Father's just forgotten the time and got engrossed in something in the herb garden.' said Elrohir.

'No, he's hasn't been to the herb garden. But he was here- look, just stand still a minute, will you? You've walking over all the marks.'

The elven twins obeyed their brother. He might only be human but he was the best tracker of any of the inhabitants of Imladris.

'He's gone off in that direction, towards the trail out of the valley,' Estel continued, the faint marks in the soft turf showing him the way. They got to the head of the pathway, which wound round and out of the valley.

'He's definitely gone up there,' confirmed Estel, 'In fact he was running when he came past here.'

'Why would he be running away from the house?' asked Glorfindel. He had taken longer to join them as he was burdened down with their weapons. 'I just had a feeling you'd need them,' he added in explanation when they looked questioningly at him. 'Cairion's gathering together a band to help search as well. They'll follow on shortly.'

Estel nodded as he strapped on his sword and slung a quiver and bow over his shoulder. 'Father's going to have a real laugh at us all running around like headless orcs when we find him sitting at the top of the pass watching the sun rise or something.'

This raised some weak laughter, that was what they were all hoping…but…

The small party set off up the trail and soon arrived at the top. Estel cast around and led them through a curtain of vines, which hid one of the secret ways into the valley. What lay beyond did not need great tracking skills to read. The ground was trampled as if by many feet and there was debris laying everywhere. Hunks of old bread, bits of broken equipment, foulness everywhere and to one side a broken arrow, the shaft intact, with fresh blood on it. The group exchanged a fearful look but Estel again put his skills to use without hesitation.

'It's difficult to read, the trail's been walked all over. There was a party of orcs, about twenty of them, they've been hiding here all day by the look of the mess they've left. Here're Father's footprints. He's walked into the clearing, stopped…then he's gone down on his knees. They've captured him. There were two on either side of him, there's fresh blood here.' He held up his forefinger, the tip coated in red blood.

'I think this is Father's. They've injured him. Then they've dragged him away…look you can see where his feet were dragging.'

The company set out again, faster this time, the imprints of Elrond's feet leading them onwards. They could hear the others coming up quickly behind. After a couple of hours they stopped to quickly refresh themselves with the water and bread that Cairion's party were carrying. Estel was growing more and more concerned over the amount of blood that was now a heavy part of the track they were following. He feared that unless they found Elrond soon, it would be too late. He walked a few paces further along and cried out in horror. Lying on the ground was his father's robe, his favourite one, the purple one that Celebrían had made for him. Now it lay tossed to one side like an old rag, as he stopped to pick it up he could see that it was stained with blood. The entire right hand side was soaked with the red gore, and there was a hole in the material.

'Look, Father's robe. He's been injured, shot by that arrow we found.' He carefully folded the despoiled garment and handed it to Glorfindel, who carefully stowed it away in a pack. The company then set off again, following the trail, which led away from Imladris, away from home. The blood seemed to have stopped flowing, but the tracks were easy to follow, they seemed to be slowing. Estel gestured for the others to wait and crept forward, yes he could now smell wood smoke. With well-rehearsed hand signals, the band of elven warriors soon surrounded the small grove with the fire in the centre. They could see orcs lying in tumbled heaps sleeping. They had set guards but they too sat leaning against trees slumbering in the daylight. With lithe ease, Elladan and Elrohir stole forwards and with sharp elven, blades slit the sentry's throats. Then the rest of the party stood, and slaughter commenced. With deadly bows and daggers the slumbering orcs stood no chance against the vengeful elves and soon all bar one were dead. This one was pinned against a tree by an elf arrow though it's chest, whimpering with terror at the merciless elf standing in front of it.

'Can you understand me?' demanded Elladan, speaking the language of Men.

The creature nodded, it's eyes wide with terror.

'You took an elf from the valley, where is he?'

'Why should I tell you?' the foul creature replied.

'Because if you don't I'll let my brother play with you. You've heard of him, haven't you? They call him Strider out on the plains.'

If it was possible the orc's eyes grow even larger. 'Keep him away from me! I'll tell you anything.'

'Where's the elf you took from the valley?'

'It ran off, that way. I was collecting wood and when I come back Morrat said it was dead.'

'How did he die?' demanded Estel, pressing his dagger against the creature's throat. It gibbered in fear.

'I don't know, I don't know, they said that Numoc had killed it. I don't know.' the creature wailed. Estel pressed down on his blade and cut the creature throat with as little thought as one would swot a fly. Turning from the carcass and wiping his knife on a rag he again cast around. Then running forward he traced a faint outline in the dirt.

'He lay here, he moved, drew his legs up. He ran,' Estel was on his hands and knees following the faint traces left by their father. 'Here he jumped.' He looked up. There was a branch about ten feet up the side of a tree. Much too high for a human to reach, but an elf... 'He reached the branch, but then fell. Here is where he fell. Then I think they must have attacked him again. There's lots of scuffing around him. No, here, here's where he ran again, through the trees there.' Estel sprung forward running through the trees until suddenly the land ran out. They were high above the river, far below he could see the silver snake of the Bruinen winding its way to the sea. He glanced around and saw that what the orc had said was possibly true. He could clearly see the implant of Elrond's foot leading to the edge. He seemed to teeter there, another set of tracks, orc footprints ran up to and over his. Looking over the edge Estel thought he could see the dark shape of a body. But whose it was he could not tell.

'Elladan, Elrohir, come here quickly! I've found where he fell.' The twins were soon at his side and he pointed. 'That shape down in the gorge, can you see who it is?'

'It's an orc. That must be the one who ran into Father.' said Elrohir.

'Yes, taking them both over,' confirmed Elladan. 'He could have survived if he fell clear of the edge, couldn't he?'

'Only one way to find out,' said Estel. 'Let's get down there and look.'