Without hope

Lord Elrond sat alone in the garden. It was quiet. All of Rivendell was emptied, save for the healers who had readied the healing rooms in the eastern section of the house. His heart was heavy. Six hours had passed, six very long hours. As an immortal, Elrond usually did not notice the passage of time. For him it was a constant, immeasurable and ever changing. Yet tonight it weighed heavily on him. As he gazed the moonlight shifted along the path, briefly illuminating the pattern of the coloured paving stones that lined the walkway. Elrond drifted into himself.

The galloping of a lone horse startled him, causing his heart to race. The rhythm of the hooves was desperate and loud. Elrond got to his feet; his pounding heart matched the drumming sound of the horse as it came ever closer. He moved almost as though in a trance. His feet retraced the path through the garden maze. As the horse's hoof beats resounded off the stones in the courtyard he began to run.

"Adar!" Elladan cried. There was no response. "Adaaaaaaaaaar!" he screamed. He held Estel in his arms. Blood ran down his fingers and dripped onto the cold stone. Tears shone in his eyes as he coughed, dry sobs wracking his body.

Elrond came around the side of the house. He saw his son swaying on his feet, cradling an unconscious form.

"Elladan!" The cry was wrenched from the elf lord as he took in the scene before him. He took Estel from Elladan's trembling arms.

"It took him ada! It took him." Elladan said hoarsely his eyes were wild and wide with grief.

"Hir nin." Erestor laid his hand gently on Elrond's shoulder, indicating that the elf lord release his burden to the waiting healers. Elrond did, gently brushing his finger tips against Estel's pale skin. The elves hurried into the house.

"Save him father.' Elladan said following them with his eyes. He stepped back intending to mount his horse and pursue the orc. But Lord Elrond grabbed at his shoulder.

"Elladan, what has happened ion nin? Where are you going? Where are the others?" Elrond frowned gripping his son's shoulders tightly, silently willing him to speak.

Elladan's eyes slowly refocused on his father's. His young face distressed.

"An orc took Legolas father. I could not stop him and I could not protect Estel. I shot him as he flew. I shot the orc. He will kill Legolas if I do not find them soon. I must go."

"Hir nin!" the call was urgent; it came from a healer who stood at the open front door. "We have need of your skills my lord, he grows worse."

Pain squeezed Elrond's heart. He hesitated for an instant between the needs of both his sons. He turned to Elladan and said. "Go ion nin. I will send help to you when the others return." Elrond hurried to the house as the beat of the horse's hooves retreated into the fading night.

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Glorfindel stabbed downward with his sword, killing the orc that had dared attack him. He slid to his knees, pressing one arm against his side. He was sure some of his ribs were badly hurt, perhaps broken. They felt painful enough. He looked around. Orcs were mostly dead or dying. The elves had been merciless and had driven through the superior numbers of the fell beasts, mowing them down like wheat.

He saw Elrohir walking tiredly toward him. The young elf was drenched in black ichor, it dripped off his sword that he held awkwardly in his left hand. His wan face was patterned with bruises and cuts. His long hair had come undone and fell around him like a shroud. In truth Glorfindel mused he looked like a Vala of death.

Elrohir dropped to his knees next to the older elf; he thrust his sword into the earth and held onto the pommel for support. "How do you fare my lord?" he asked looking at him in concern. His face had a decidedly ashen look.

"I have been better." Glorfindel replied, shrugging off the question. "What of you?"

"I am well, merely sore."

"Then listen well for something has occurred that filled me with great unease." Glorfindel clutched at the young elf's shoulder as pain radiated from his side. "There was an orc, a rather large one that went after young Legolas and your brothers. He was mounted on a warg beast and he left in the midst of battle. When he left the orc defense and will to fight floundered. He must have been their leader such as they have. But I could not free myself to go after them, so you must go now. Ride out and meet them they may need you."

"My Lord?" Elrohir asked greatly puzzled.

"You must." Glorfindel was panting now. "They will need your help."

Elrohir exhaled sharply his mind racing.

"GO!" Lord Glorfindel commanded. "Too much time has already passed!"

Elrohir stumbled to his horse. The animals were being secured by those who could walk unaided. As he mounted he caught sight of Lord Veren. He was directing the care of the wounded.

"Lord Veren," called Elrohir. The elf of midnight black hair turned, his green eyes piercing in the hazy light of near dawn. "Lord Glorfindel is hurt, badly I think." He pointed to a hillock away to the right. The elf lord had fallen and was now lying still on the ground. Veren nodded and headed to his friend's side at a run.

OOOOOOOO

Legolas woke slowly, the back of his head hurt. He remembered flying through the air when Sule stumbled. He groaned and tried to raise his hand to his pounding head. His hands refused to move. He opened his eyes a crack and closed them again. Where was he? He turned onto his side and as he did the scent of orc overwhelmed his senses. His eyes shot open an impossible thought took control. "No!" the word came unbidden from his lips. He struggled to rise but his bound limbs stopped him.

Garuk grabbed him by the hair, clamping a large hand over his mouth. He squeezed the elf's face hard.

"Not yet elf, not yet." He pulled a wicked looking club out of his fallen pack and hit him brutally. Legolas' eyes rolled back in his head as the wooden weapon connected solidly with his head.

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Elrohir pushed the mare hard. All tiredness was cast aside as concern for his brothers and Legolas gnawed at him. The early morning sun lit the short grass of the plains when Elrohir reigned in his mare. He could see plainly the signs of a struggle. There was flattened grass and blood. A lot of blood. He dismounted reading the signs. Someone had been dragged away.

The faint sound of hoof beats came to him. He stretched his bow, kneeling in the dew- wet grass. The rider came into view going fast. "Elladan!" he shouted in surprise.

Elladan whirled, startled into defense. His bow was held taunt and aimed at his brother's heart before he recognized who it was.

"Elrohir." He said the name in disbelief.

He ran toward him, seeing his brother's face set and tired. "What happened? Where are Estel and Legolas?"

"An orc ambushed them; he wounded Estel and took Legolas."

"And Estel?"

"He lives… for now." Elladan looked away sadly then inclined his head. "I will not let him have the prince Lir."

Elrohir took a deep breath realizing that Elladan meant Estel was dying. "We will not." He promised and mounted swiftly pushing his pain deep inside. They would not abandon Legolas to torment.

Elladan led, looking for telltale signs. There were drops of black along the ground leading away from the plains.

"He bleeds!" Elrohir exclaimed, thinking that Legolas had managed to wound the beast.

"I shot him as he fled, he may kill the prince for my folly." Elladan's face was a picture of despair.

Elrohir leaned across and took his brother's hand. "Not if we find him first."

OOOOOOOOOOO

Garuk growled cursing out loud as the sun burned brightly in the morning sky. He had dragged him self and the elf into the hollow trunk of a dying tree. The entrance was choked with growing shrubs and vine. He had been careful not to crush a single leaf or winding stem.

His back was on fire. That accursed elf had shot him in the back. The coward! The arrow head was still imbedded deep inside him though he had managed to break off the shaft. His every movement caused pain to flare through his torso. He had loosed the warg knowing that she would head for the mountains. Let the elves follow her, with her swift gait they could not hope to overtake her soon. While they followed her, he would make his way to the tunnel maze by another route. But he must be careful and clever.

Elves were formidable opponents when provoked. And my, hadn't he provoked them. With a dark chuckle he lifted a handful of silken hair that fell across Legolas' face. He put it to his nose and inhaled deeply, closing his eyes. It smelt of wood smoke and crushed grass. He draped himself along the length of the wood elf's body. The blood from his head wound had dried leaving a crust of brown at the side of his fair head.

Garuk stuck out a blackened tongue and licked the dried blood away. The wound was healing nicely. Legolas stirred under his ministrations, a soft sound escaping his lips. Garuk hurriedly reached into his pack and retrieved a vial of awrl. It was a mixture used to treat wounds. One had to be careful not to inhale its scent however, for its noxious fumes sent even the halest orc warrior into a deep delirious state of half sleep. Prolonged use could send one mad as nightmare became reality and everything seemed threatening.

He pulled out the cork and holding his breath held it briefly under the elf's nose. Legolas bucked, trying to evade the awful fumes even in sleep. Garuk held his head firmly though and soon the elf's body relaxed as unconsciousness took hold.

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The twins rode slowly through the tangled undergrowth under the tall trees. The drops of orc blood had stopped altogether and now they followed the deep imprints of misshapen paws left by the warg in the tangled grasses. Elrohir reached down and pulled a tuft of coarse fur from a thorn bush.

"They passed here."

Elladan leaned low on the horse's back. He narrowed his eyes at some broken branches. They looked trampled on. Obviously the orc's animal had stopped here. "Lir, stop." He called to his brother. Dismounting he bent low almost with his nose touching the ground. The earth reeked of the musky stench of warg, but more importantly there were drops of black splattered on the leaves. The orc had rested here. Elrohir approached quietly realizing that his brother had found something important.

"Man cenich?" he asked.

"Orc blood, he stopped here look." There were deep footprints in the crushed grass. Inching forward Elladan suddenly reached out and pulled something snagged on a low shrub. He turned to Elrohir and opened his hand. Two strands of pale golden hair were cupped in his palm.

"Legolas," Elrohir breathed "he lives still."

"That is not certain," whispered Elladan, sighing softly.

"It is muindor nin. If he were dead the orc would have despoiled his body and left it for us to find."

"Yes, you are right." Said Elladan catching his bottom lip in his teeth. He took heart from his twin's words.

Together they prowled the area. They were in a dense part of the wood. The trees grew close together here and the undergrowth was choked with vines. There were dead and dying trees in one section of the wood. The vines there were thick and crawled up the trunks of several of them.

"He did not pass this way." Elrohir stated, for the foliage was untouched.

Elladan was standing in front of a particularly large dead tree. He looked over the area with a nagging sense of disquiet. Yet he had to agree with his brother. The area seemed untouched.

"Elladan come." Elrohir called, signaling him forward. There in the grass were deep animal prints leading away to the north. The twins mounted up and cantered away following the tracks of the warg.

Safe in the hollow of the large tree Garuk gave a sigh of relief.

OOOOOOOO

Elrond fought for Aragorn's life all that night and into the early morning. The arrow had gone through muscle and bone and had lodged itself deep into the tender area above the heart. Elrond had taken out splinters of wood and bone and had patiently sewn torn veins, muscle and finally skin together. Aragorn had lost so much blood that he had grown paler by the minute and his skin dry to the touch.

The elf had prepared a special solution and had fed it drop by precious drop back into his son's body. He had boiled a water pouch until it was clean of impurities and hung it from the post of the bed. He took a very long hollow wooden needle and pierced the large vein in Aragorn's arm, allowing the solution to run down into the vein in small drips. After hours of monitoring and two pouches later a faint flush of pink had graced his hollow cheeks. Elrond then made him as comfortable as possible. The wound was bandaged and would heal.

Around them wounded elves had returned from battle and were treated by other healers. Elrond blinked in slow surprise as he turned away from his son and found himself surrounded by a room full of sleeping and bandaged patients. He swayed and suddenly Erestor and Veren were there. They lowered him into a padded chair.

Erestor put a cup of refreshing liquid to his lips and he sipped it gratefully, leaning back in weariness. Veren quietly told him of all that transpired. Elrond listened nodding gravely. He then repeated the incident that had caused Aragorn to nearly lose his life. Veren's eyes glinted angrily.

"No doubt Elrohir has caught up to Elladan already, but with your leave I would join them. It would do their hearts well to know that young Estel will live. Also they would be less inclined to recklessness."

Elrond frowned knowing full well to what Veren alluded. The twins would kill in rage and endanger them selves needlessly when in blind anger and grief.

"Go mellon nin, bring my sons home." In this Elrond included the Mirkwood prince.

"I will." So saying Veren lightly covered his heart with one palm and bowing low, took his leave.

Elrond's gaze drifted back to Estel's pale profile.

"The Valar protect us all." He said.

Notes

Mellon nin my friend

Muindor nin my brother

Man cenich What can you see.

Ion nin My son

Hir nin My Lord

Adadaddy

Adar father

To

Sylvia and Kitsune- My heartfelt thanks for both your words. I hope you enjoy this.