Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. collapses sobbing I do own the elvses you don't know though hiss. Eep! Maybe I should watch and read LotR less. But then again . . . NO WAY!
Sorry that took so damn long. I have an announcement! This will be done in three separate stories. This one will last a long while though, and it won't really have anything to do with the main evil that is now talked about in the summary. The gremlin that hides my stuff took the notebook where my almost completed chapter was and replaced it with a plot bunny. So after I got really mad at it and foolishly killed it instead of torturing the notebook's whereabouts out of it, the plot bunny grew. Now the plot is much better. Also the plots for the like, ten other ideas I had. Especially the best idea I had. Yes, I do have another fic coming soon. I found the notebook and here is the information it contained. Wait. Here are the review replies first. Sorry for those of you passed over in previous review replies.
Legolas-Aragorn-r-hot: I'm glad you like my story. And yes, the twins ROCK!
Purplefluffychainsaw: hangs head in shame That was a long update. That one was just a very little spooky. The story will get spookier. And you. Must update. Ha! I found a way to tell you after using up my one review for the chapter!
Slivertongue: hangs head in shame again Glad you think so!
yamie yukyuu: Thanks! I'm really flattered. The chapters will be getting longer from here, and I'm not dead! Still writing!
Joee1: That one was disgustingly short wasn't it . . . Not to worry! This one will be longer! And I say . . . Yes to longer chapters! Sorry, no Arwen death in this story. Actually, Arwen has an incredibly small part in this. I'm not sure she'll appear again until the end of the second story, where she'll also have very little importance. Here's the next chapter!
hyperactive forever: ANGST! does her angst dance I lovelovelove angst. You can tell cause of the lyrics of my favorite song, and the story I'm writting. Twin angst? You'll get PLENTY. I'm glad you like!
Chapter 4:The Hunters-And the Hunted
Three elves stood close together, in a triangle, clad in white nightclothes, pale as the cloth with worry. Two of them stared into each other's eyes like mirrors, seeing their exact image staring back at them. Identical pairs of shifty silver eyes darted toward the golden haired, pale blue-eyed elf that stood near the twins every few moments.
Another death. In the black of the night. Another hidden message presumed, but not yet found.
It had been a young maid named Alasse. A most darling young thing, little more than an elfling. Many would be sad. She had been fair, even for an elf. Dark haired, with deep blue eyes like the damask night sky lit up by a million stars. She was well-liked, sweet to all.
"She was so young." A gaunt Elrohir proclaimed. "She was innocent"
It was not yet dawn. The sun had not yet shown a ray of pure light upon the damask sky. Already. The new day had come to greet death. The light of dawn had never come for yet another elf.
"We should find the message. I'm quite sure there will be one." The clear voice of Legolas rang out, breaking the black silence that had crept over the three. "This . . . Thing. It means to tell us-" He broke off, pale blue eyes windows into his thoughts. Mirrors to his reflections. How horrible a way of being heard this was. "-Something" We can't ignore it" He scanned the gaunt faces of his companions, his eyes speaking before his voice was heard. "As much as I wish we could. I do not think we have a choice this time"
The twins exchanged a glance, unspoken words flashing in their silver eyes. A dark silence once more fell over the company. This was beyond understanding of beings that had spent centuries upon centuries on earth. To kill your own kind in cold blood. This was unfathomable. This vile thing destroyed heartlessly. The killings so brutal, the victims so innocent.
Finally Elladan spoke, his eyes sad and full of questions that would remain unasked, his clear voice little more that a whisper "It won't be hard to find" He paused, recalling the sight of the mangled figure in the center of a room that seemed completely covered in her blood. The memory of the horrible sight pouring an emoticon the others did not recognize though silver optics. "How I long to stay away from that place forever, yet we have no choice."
Three pairs of jewel bright eyes met once more. The thoughts of the moment were understood. The bond of the twins seemed to expand to Legolas for one brief moment. There was much more blood, just so much more. Each recalled the body, once fair face so pale, so drawn by pain; eyes so tightly shut; so bright a light extinguished. And the river of crimson that once flowed beneath delicate skin everywhere.
Legolas took the lead, each silent footstep harder to take. Bracing himself, he entered the room. Her screams of agony had torn him from a restless sleep. A swift gait had taken him down the hall. She lay dead. Blue eyes closed forever, never to light up a room with their joy. Her slender form seemed a small island in a vast sea of blood. And her ruthless killer? Gone. Gone like the young elf's light. Now Legolas walked back to the place of horror. The room of blood. The room forever labeled the room of death, in his mind. The room he never again wished to see. A breath of unbloodied air was drawn as he stepped inside for the last time, his identical friends following.
Elrohir shut his silver eyes for a moment, resting dark lashes on pale cheeks. Silver orbs once more set their sight upon the wretched place, tears threatening to fill them. The fair elf would rather be anywhere. Anywhere other than this slaughter house, where he felt the emotions of two. Elladan's rage welled up within him, mingling with the misery that already resided there. He began to scan the walls, searching for the message that need be found.
The heart of Thranduil's heir was heavy. Weighed down with remorse. Thoughts echoed through his mind. 'What if I had woken earlier?'. 'What if I had run faster?' Thoughts that burned.
Elladan could almost taste the remorse floating through the room. He saw the thoughtful expression of a fair face, the guilt in pale blue eyes, the weight on a pure heart. "'Tis not your fault," Elrond's eldest proclaimed gently. "You came as fast as anyone could mellon nin." Pausing for a second, he added "Probably faster" Forcing a smile to cross his delicate features for the sake of a friend.
Another forced smile echoed his, a whispered reply breaking through thick air. "I know-but-" A shuddering deep breath escaped him. Eyes shut for a moment, the fair elf's abalaster skin pale in the shadowy halls. I think that even though I couldn't have saved her, I might have at the very least glimpsed the killer" Legolas sighed, sapphire eyes scanning the sea of red that engulfed the room as if to say 'Maybe I could have made sure this never happened again'.
Elrohir's silver eyes glazed over the once white walls, a few tiny spots of white caught his gaze. He focused weary eyes, he was tiered. The sheer stress the killer's actions put upon the city exhausted each elf within it. Elrond's youngest was no exception. An already fair face paled as his slate eyes skimmed the minuscule letters. "The unescapable fate" The younger twin softly read.
A voice so like his own echoed him. "The unescapable fate" His duplicate whispered. "I guess it means-" Elladan broke off, eyeing the wreckage the once fine room now was, and the graceful figure that had met it. "-This". He finished with a sigh.
A solemn line left the room. The house of Elrond was stirring. They'd all know soon. Soon, each elf who'd been too tangled in a web of nightmares to stir upon those piercing screams would know what had become part of their gruesome dreams.
Once more, three elves stood quiet in the halls that were now filled with the bustle of early morn. The silence that hung over them became unbearable, suffocating, stifling.
"We should tell Adar!" Elrohir finally exclaimed, the few moments of heavy silence far too much.
"He shall know soon enough" His mirror image said with a sigh
"He should hear it from us!" The youngest son of Lord Elrond stated firmly.
"It does not matter:" Elladan countered.
Yet another argument began.
"Us!"
"No!"
"Us!"
"No!'
"Us!"
"Stop!" Legolas cried, distress upon his fair face. "I can't bear this! It would hurt no one if his sons told him."
Elrohir walked to Lord Elrond's chambers, a smug expression on his face. His twin lagged, reluctantly dragging his feet as he silently followed Legolas down the long hallway. The distance between them and their destination melted away quickly, silent footsteps fast as they walked down the well decorated hall.
Legolas did not pay attention to the splendor around him as he usually did. He did not allow his mind to drift to the many pranks that had been played there, nor the many times that laughter had echoed through the now sombre hallways of the Last Homely House upon their discoveries. Now he focused on the task at hand. The Mirkwood Prince suspected Elrond may aleady know. The Lord of Imaldris knew a great many things. And he knew them as well as Legolas knew that this would not be the last innocent 'The Creature' killed. The insatiable blood-lust of this thing...It just wouldn't stop. So much blood...
A scream pierced the stillness of the night. Nay, screams. Heart shattering screams of pain and terror. Such pain...
The Prince of Mirkwood woke with a start, frantic cries boring into his immortal soul. He thought them figments of a nightmare, yet shriek after shriek sounded as pale blue eyes lost the glaze of sleep. A jolt from his warrior instinct and Legolas was on his feet. He hardly knew was happening as he silently sprinted down the hallway in the direction from whence the screams came.
Slender hands yanked at the knob of a door. The frantic screaming had subsided, but this was the right room. Legolas flung it open with certainty. The sight he beheld was dreadfull. Blood. Everywhere. Sticking to the walls and floors like paint. Pale blue eyes inspected the dreadfull scene. The floor was awash in a sea of red. There had been a struggle. When it was over, he suposed the beast had bled it's helpless victim, spreading the crimson fluid over the room. The signs of a struggle were evident though, he could see the fight in his mind's eye. A crack in the wall showed where the young she-elf had finally met her downfall. Bloody handprints disfigured the clear glass windows which she'd used to try to support herself as consiousness began to slip her.
The tormented slender form lay sprawled in the center of the room, bathed in her own blood. She was so young, so fair. Death had not marred flawless features. Youth still radiated from her still warm body. Sapphire eyes painfully examined the young elf's fallen figure.
Elrohir nudged the door to his father's room open. "Ada?" he softly called, peering in.
"I know what tidings you bear ion nin." Elrond said gravely. Then his tone changed to that of a healer, a father, "Poor thing, poor young thing" (My son)
Elrohir was relived. He did not know how to shape the words unspoken agreements demanded he say. How to tell his Ada. How to say that his people were being preyed upon and that they had become pawns in a dangerous game-Things to be taken at will and opprotunity. The youngest son of Elrond Peredhel felt such great remore at this relief. His consience poked at him. He felt guilty because he still felt. He felt relief, remorse, misery, joy-He just felt. While one so young lay dead.
The Lord of Imaldris saw the unmasked feelings of his child. The emmotional eyes told all. Pangs of guilt, and pure misery. "It is not your fault ion-nin"
"I know Ada, and yet-" The fair being said, brow still furrowed "-I find myself guilty of life. I live on, while one so innocent lies dead." The graceful elf gave a mournfull glance
Elladan silently storde to his twins side, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I know, I know" And he knew. The elder twin knew his brother's emmotions as well as he knew the rage that boiled within him. His silver eyes gave the brother he cherished a look of pure concern. He was older. He was meant to be the stronger. So now he had to be storng. He pushed aside his own feelings. Forgot his own worries. Or pretended to. The rage, the hatered and the deeply burried sadness welled up withing him--yet he stood strong. Elrohir could break down. But he could not--Would not.
The fair Prince of Mirkwood remained silent. His face betrayed no emotions. The very air about him seemed calm, dignified, and collected. But the battle inside raged. Inner turmoil weakened him to the point where he just wished he could come crashing to the cold marble floor. Asan elf, the loss of immortal life was always saddening. But this-This emotionless waste of it-was shocking. The heir of Thranduil knew what his friends felt. Their peacefull home was under full-scale attack-From the inside. Legolas knew how they felt. The young Prince had long ago been forced to watch Greenwood the Great, the greatest of all forests, become consumed by darkness. Become Mirkwood: Where the darkness did reside. His home was newly freed. He had fought for that freedom. Yet the name Mirkwood clung to it, a reminder of darker times. The Mirkwood Prince. That title also rmemained. He knew how they hurt.
Quite suddenly, a distraught looking golden haired elf rushed into the room-Melime. "Brannon!" She called out, celadon eyes a vision of distress. Those soothing eyes then took in the sight around her. The darkened look on Elrond's face, the forlorn expressions both his sons wore, and the emotionless masque of their guest. They knew. (Lord)
"We know Melime, we know" Elrond said gently, his gaze shifted to the misery his sons wore, and the hidden emotions of his friend's child. 'They shouldn't have to feel this way'. He needed to distract them somehow.
Melime understood. The younger elves did not have to stew in the blood of Rivendell, and so they should not. A diversion was nescasary. Her pale green eyes flashed as an idea illuminated her mind. "Perhaps the young lords and Prince Legolas should take off on a hunt Brannon?"
Elrond mused for a moment. Hunting. . .It would be an excellent distraction for the three archers. "Wonderfull idea" The Lord of Imaldris said, forcing a warm smile to cross the ster features of his face for the sake of the elf who'd been a nurse to his three children as well as a constant companion of his wife. Even in the den of the orcs. He took his mind from that dark topic "That is, if they choose to go." It was more of a question than a comment. Yet he could answer it himself.
The three avid hunters exchanged a glance. Passing up an opprotunity to leave the bloodbath unsupervised? That would be pure insanity. At least to rash, young royalty. Elladan was quick to answer. "We choose to go!"
At that moment, the thoughts of murder and blood were forced from the minds of three elves. Hunting would be a distraction. Not just for them, but for all. A hunting trip required much preparation.
"We'll make a list of supplies" Elrohir said, truthfully smiling. They'd need many. Where the three went, trouble followed. No matter whose kingdoom, not matter which forest. Spiders, orcs, hatefull men. Each other. Never did they have a peacefull trip.
"We'll need food" Legolas said, grinning. Though elves were usually silent when the need arose, hunting for game turned to hunting each other. Hunts filled the forest with furious yelps and curses of all sorts. Any wild animal with half a brain could figure out that they were in the woods yet again.
"Some medicine would be usefull" Elladan said, musing upon the number of arrows that seemed to go astray when one was doubled over with laughter. Then his thoughts turned to moments more serious, when life threatening wounds of war needed treatment.
"Much clothing" Elrohir mumbled, fighting back fits of laughter as he remembered the bright pink Legolas had dyed Elladan's last extra tunic on their last venture, and the countless sets of clothing that ended up soaked. He sobered as his mind drifted to the tunics sacarificed to put pressure on life-threatening wounds after battles of one sort or another.
"Someone will ready your bows" Elrond said raising an eyebrow at the supressed laughter of the three.
"Wel'll need-" Elrohir began
"-many-" Legolas cut in.
"-arrows." Elladan finished.
Elrond's eyebrows threatedned to merge with his dark hair. The mighty Lord of Imaldris could only manage a simple "I shall" as he conimplated the reasons for that remark. He gavethem an estranged glance and regained his composture adding "Meaniwhile, gather your clothes. You said you'd need much." Then, as he turned and left the room, gliding footsteps taking him down the hall to issue orders, a melodic laugh slipped through his lips.
Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas separated to prepare. As soon as the glow of companionship faded, gloom, uncertainty and dread settled back in. Each made a cow, the feelings wound be fought. The weapons? Pranks, jokes, teasing, and laughter galore. And so they fought, intrecate plans forming in their heads.
The Prince of Mirkwood decided on a few items that he would not be wearing, dubtifully hidden beneath many tunics and large amounts of leggings small vials and bottles were carefully stowed away. A develish grin lit up his fair face. This would be the best hunt yet.
Elrohir was ever gratefull for the secret layer at the bottom of his canteen. A small canvas pouch was neatly placed there. Minuscule boxes were pushed into the legos of leggings. Slender hands enclosed delicate tubes in padding and gently tucked then into the sleeves of several tunics. He then placed a coil of wire at the bottom of his pack, covering it with the tunics and leggings he'd used to disguise other secrets. Atop those, Elrohir piled more garments that had nothing to hide. A smile of satisfaction crept over his features. "This shall be the best one yet" He stated firmly, silver eyes a-twinkle.
Carefully coiled loops of ropes were placed between tunics and leggings chosen for the trip. Elladan was cautious, he didn;t bring anything he'd miss. The last hunt's fiasco with his favorite tunic and some very well made pink dye had left him wiser, yet with one tunic less. A large bottle was added to his pack. A grin glimered across his face. 'The best one yet' He thought, 'The best one yet'.
The weapons were hastily delivered by the grief stricken maid, Vane, who had been put to the task. She seemed anxious to get away from the lethal weaponry. And him. Legolas suposed she had been a friend of the victim. He figured word that he had found the body had gotten around. Hastily pushing such dark thoughts from his mind, the fair elf grabbed what he'd been seeking. A legnth of rope. The Prince of Mirkwood wound it around his knives. However, before placing the weapons in the pouch on his quiver, he inserted them into a tall cylinder of sorts first. A sawed off canteen. A makeshift bucket.
So thus they set out. Fighting to keep dark thoughts from their minds and pranks in their hearts.
Unbeknownst to them a dark figure watched from where none should see. "Come now my darlings, come." Emerald eyes flashed darkly as an evil smile crossed her face.
Brief A/N: Hehe..Couldn't leave it fluffy could I? This chapter is cursed. My late Gremlin, may its evil soul burn, stole my notebook and hid it. Guess who killed it without torturing it for information first? The teachers kept asigning projects. And to make matters worse, the system failed and deleted some unsaved information. Eek. Cursed chapter. And you just read it.