Elladan leant back against his brother, absorbing the warmth and the calm that came from his embrace. They were sat together in one of the many gardens of Imladris, at the base of a huge oak tree with bluebells carpeting the ground at their feet. They had been offered so little time in the last months to simply sit, always planning or fighting or supporting. To have such a moment seemed bliss itself. Although... it seemed they were missing something. The thought seemed to cross both minds at the same time, resulting in an echoing comment of...

"Do you think Legolas..." Laughing at their synchronised thoughts, both stood to search out Legolas.

-

They didn't expect him to pass them as they made their way back towards the house, and even more startling was that he passed them at some speed. They stood for a moment, and glanced at each other - to make sure they had not been mistaken - and then looked behind themselves. Legolas was running down the main path through the valley, away from them.

"Legolas?" I didn't take Elrohir long to catch up with the running archer, his brother coming up along side him. He glanced around Legolas' back at his brother when Legolas didn't respond. "What are you doing?" He persisted.

"Running." Came the breathless reply.

"Why?" Elladan pressed.

"I need to regain my fitness."

"And does father approve of this training?" The brothers continued their dual questioning.

"Unlikely. I think that is why he confiscated my bow." The brothers both found themselves surprised to realise that they hadn't noticed the quiver and bow Legolas was carrying. Though he had been without the ability to use it for many months now, it still seemed perfectly natural to be seeing him carry it. They probably would have noticed if he had been missing the weapon.

"Is that my bow?" Elrohir voiced the thought that had passed through both minds at the same time.

"I borrowed it, I hope you don't mind."

"But my bow is twice the weight of the Lothlórien bow you carry, the quiver is heavier too. Surely you'd be better off starting your training without any weight."

"It will be better for me when I get my own bow back. It will be easier." The twins frowned at the twisted logic. Legolas stopped unexpectedly, taking a seat beside the path and slowly retrieving control over his breathing. "I am bored of being still, or moving carefully. If Lord Elrond had his way I would be kept in those rooms until I gather dust through boredom."

"So you decided to come running?" Elladan asked, disbelieving.

"I run in the mornings every time I am here, it is a joy I cannot take at home... You know these things, have I done something wrong?"

"It is good to see you feeling so well." Elrohir soothed, glaring at his brother.

"We were looking for you, would you join us in a little gathering of dust?"

"Perhaps that would not be such a bad pass-time in these gardens." Legolas conceded, smiling.

-

Now all three sat in the clearing beneath the oak tree: Elladan up against the trunk; Legolas leant against his side, head on his chest; and Elrohir with his head in his lap, his back to the others. All three sighed in unison; the scents of the flowers that surrounded them, and the heat of the summer afternoon just arriving offered a soporific atmosphere and tempted them to sleep.

All three looked up sleepily as Aragorn and Arwen entered the clearing, obviously seeking a haven of their own, having escaped their ever-present guard.

"Ah, here you are. I was looking for you." Aragorn greeted as he spotted them. Arwen only offered them a smile at the man's half-lie.

"And you have found us, more than ready for an afternoon sleep in the sun. Must we talk now?" Elladan complained.

"We are to leave tomorrow morning, and then will be too late. I wished to ask you all back to Minas Tirith with us. There are many there that would be glad of news from this far north." Aragorn's gaze met Legolas', and did not leave his face even as he looked away.

"We would have to discuss it. It is a long way to go, and we have done much travelling in the last few months." Elrohir answered for all three, though it was obvious that Elladan was most eager, and Legolas was totally against the idea.

-

When Aragorn brought his lady to the courtyard the next morning he found all three mounted and ready, packs rolled behind their saddles and horses fresh. Cúdîn danced a little as Elrohir saluted the King, and Aragorn could only smile and bow in reply as his guards coaxed him into the carriage. He caught only one glimpse of Legolas behind the twins, and though he looked as skittish as Cúdîn regarding the coming journey, he also looked determined. They were going to Minas Tirith.

-

They rode for two days at a soft pace, forming a column about the carriage. Aragorn rode sometimes alongside them – indistinguishable in his ranger's gear from his soldiers – and sometimes within the carriage with Arwen. During the nights they camped beneath the cover of the trees and ate the meat brought to them by the archers that rode with them.

It was at dawn of the third day that the quiet routine was broken. Mist was setting over the woods as they packed up camp and the horses stirred uneasily, dew settling on their manes and tails as they were loaded up for the continuing journey.

It was the elves that heard them first, all three abandoning the awning that they had been taking down, and calling the soldiers to silence.

"Orcs." Elladan told Aragorn, as he walked over to them on silent feet in the wet grass.

"How near?" He asked, unable to keep his eyes from drifting across the clearing to where Elrohir stood with Legolas, hands tight on his shoulders as if to keep him from running. He looked so tense it didn't seem an unlikely prospect.

"Too near." Elladan replied. "They see as little as we do in this mist, but they are headed our way. We cannot clear the camp in time. They will hear the carriage if we try to move it."

"Leave the carriage, there are enough horses. Let us move from here as quickly and quietly as we are able." He told his men, gathering his pack and slinging it over Roheryn's back. He guided Arwen up onto a horse of her own and then drew his sword, gesturing for her to follow the others. As soon as everyone was mounted, the camp was abandoned, still holding the carriage and the remains of the tents.

There was a moment's silent pause as everything in the clearing held its breath in waiting for the disturbance that was to come.

An Uruk-Hai crashed through the foliage first, ignoring the half-trodden path and destroying as much as he could as he went. Near twenty orcs followed him, and clustered behind as he stopped to examine the abandoned camp. One bent and stuck his hand in the embers of the fire, only to jump back and yelp as he found them still hot.

"They've not gone far." The Uruk growled, whirling about to try and find the trail. "What say you to a little sport?" The grimace on his face was akin to a smile as the horses' tracks were spotted.

-

There was little for the men to do as the orcs came upon them. Their trail had been made easily, and the woods were harder to navigate on horseback than on foot. They fought to avoid being scattered; swords, knives and bows all to hand. Elladan kept Legolas beside him, Elrohir covering Arwen as Aragorn went to work. It was only as the fight was beginning, though, that Legolas found himself face to face with one of his worst nightmares. The Uruk that stood before him was none other than the one who would have been his master. It took very little encouragement for Arod to bolt from the fight, and the Uruk watched him go with an evil glint to his eye. Seeing him go, Elladan called out to him, glancing back only long enough to convey his intentions to his brother before following him away. Momentarily torn, Elrohir looked up as he was pushed away by Arwen.

"Go. If they get hurt you will never forgive me." She spoke softly, drawing her own short sword with meaning.

"Be safe, sister. I am rather fond of my neck." Calling two foot-soldiers to his sister's side, Elrohir raced after the other two. He drew Cúdîn to a skidding stop as he came face to face with the two he was looking for. And a third he was not. The Uruk stood before Legolas, who cowered beneath him, eyes wide with fear. With one great hand, it lifted him up by the neck, and he went so very limp that for a moment Elrohir feared the movement had broken his neck. The Uruk looked over him with disdain and then hurled him across the clearing. He rolled twice and then curled into a pitiful ball, visibly shaking.

There was a moment's pause as the Uruk looked over the two, standing on either side of the clearing that he had confronted Legolas in. He was easily another half their heights, and so broad across the shoulders it amazed Elrohir that he had been able to make his way through the tightly packed trees. The twins exchanged a glance and dropped from their horses, drawing their swords in synchrony. The Uruk smirked, sweeping wide with one hand as if inviting their attack. Elladan's blow fell first, swept aside by the great monster's scimitar, and Elrohir followed with a blow from the other side, falling just short as the Uruk stepped aside. The orcs were now flooding towards them, whether by some signal by their leader or simply by retreat from the men. Many of the orcs were injured or trailing wounded limbs, and several of them men were bearing wounds of their own. But all continued fighting, hindering each other through the crowding of the small space. Distracted by a man bumping into his back, Elladan was forced to duck quickly to avoid a sweep of the Uruk's blade and jumped back to plunge his own blade into his side, throwing his whole weight in to pierce the thick leather. Elrohir's blade whirred over his head as he drew back, taking the monster's head. There was a moment's breath as the orcs realised that their master was dead. It only lasted as long as it took the men to swing their swords.

-

Legolas' posture was tight and unrelenting, refusing to submit to their ministrations as he held himself in a tense ball. Gently they eased him back so that he was sat upright, and pulled his hands from his face, taking hold of one each. Wrapping their arms around him, they rocked him and soothed him as he sobbed his pain and shame to the forest. Aragorn looked over sympathetically, and then herded his men away to see to the damage to their camp.

-

"What happened?" Aragorn demanded curiously, when the day was over and they were camped again. They had travelled faster having left the carriage behind, but the night was chill and the tents too had been abandoned. "It seemed he simply ran from the orcs, and lay cowering while we fought them. He may not be able to use a bow but..."

"Think, brother," Elladan interrupted harshly, "if you will, on the sounds of a battle. It might remind you of something else, perhaps, the laboured breathing, the sounds of flesh on flesh? Perhaps the sound of a sword leaving a scabbard has memories for him too... memories of a time when he was no longer in control of that sound. When he was bound and trapped. Do you see now Aragorn? Can you see why this would cause him to react so? He did not have a holiday in Barad-dûr."

"I did not..." Aragorn looked truly mortified that he had not thought of such a thing. In truth he had thought little on Legolas' capture, more stunned by his continued survival and not focusing on what might have happened to him in between. This realisation made him realise something more and he looked to the twins with the depth of anguish in his eyes. "I hadn't thought." He murmured.

"Then perhaps think a little more before opening your mouth." He spat back in anger. Elrohir looked over from the other side of the camp, hearing Elladan raise his voice. Making his way over he caught hold of Elladan's shoulders and pulled him back to where Legolas still lay. He glanced back only once at Aragorn, and pitied the ranger the depth of sadness he saw in his eyes.

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Jedi-Bant: Just his bow fingers. Index and middle on both hands... I'm sure I said that somewhere... meh...

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Lady Janelly: You're my hero for this fic! Thanks so much for reviewing.