To my reviewers: Sorry I'm not responding to you all separately. I have not yet heard from the hospital about my x-ray, it has been like two weeks on Friday. But I am trying not to hurt my hand anymore, so I will refrain from anymore typing then I need to. SO...no individual responses. Just an apology for the wait. Sorry!!

-Gwenneth

Chapter Five: Marken

Legolas was almost out of energy. His feet were dragging and he was stumbling more frequently. Estel, for the most part, seemed thoroughly entralled by his own tales and didn't take notice of Legolas' failing health. The Elf could feel blood trickling from his wound and he knew, even without looking, that his clothing were soaked with the crimson liquid.

He looked up and sighly lightly. He wasn't going to make it much further. And he doubted Ciydan would care if he fell and the Orcs had their way with him. After all, what did the man really need with an Elf? He was dispensible, only being held captive because if he survived this hike he might fetch a price in the slave markets. Elves were highly sought after, being immortal and possessing physical abilites above the capabilities of humans.

"Legolas?"

The Elf gulped and looked down at Estel beside him. The little boy was slowing his pace, looking suspiciously at Legolas. "Sorry, Estel, I was daydreaming a bit there. I didn't mean to not answer you. What did you say?"

Frowning, Estel looked over the Elf. "You are not doing so good, are you Legolas? I can see all that blood. You need to rest."

Ciydan was suddenly in front of them. "We are stopping for a rest now. I have a little business to attend to, then we will continue. Rest while you can. If you fall, you're Orc bait, just as the boy is. And I dare say the Orcs will likely enjoy you a bit more than him. Elves are so fun to break." He chuckled and turned to the nearest man. "Guard them. Take them to that little brook and let the Elf clean himself up. I don't want them overhearing my business."

It was then that Legolas noticed a dark-skinned newcomer. The slave trader, no doubt, he thought to himself. Ciydan doesn't want us to hear him selling us. Or perhaps he doesn't want the man to know he is buying damaged merchandise.

The appointed guard grabbed Legolas by the right arm and began to lead him to the stream. His movements were surprisingly gentle, but perhaps he was unaware that he was being nice.

Soon, they were far enough away that even Legolas, with his elvish hearing, was unable to discern the words of Ciydan and the slaver. To the Elf's surprise, they were also out of eyesight for the humans in the camp. Which meant, Legolas and Estel were only guarded by the one man accompanying them.

This might be our chance at escape, Legolas thought to himself.

He saw the brook that Ciydan must have been referring to, the bright blue water rushing a bit faster then normal after a fall storm. The ground here was damp, but not overly muddy. Legolas veered toward the water, but the man stopped him. Confusion played across the Elf's face. This is abnormal. Why isn't he taking us to the stream as he was instructed? For a moment, hope rose in Legolas' mind. "The stream is just there, Sir. I think we have missed it."

The man nodded, but did not slow or change course. He didn't say anything either. Estel, sensing something amiss, looked up questioningly at Legolas. He wanted to know what was going on. Legolas shook his head and shrugged lightly. His arm was still held firmly by their guard, Estel was trotting to keep up with the quick pace.

"What do you mean to do with us? Why do you not head toward the stream?" Legolas prompted, hoping to illicit some explanation from the man. He was about to continue when he heard some crashing in the nearby bushes. An Orc emerged from the overgrowth, a menacing grin on his face.

He means to give us to the Orcs, Legolas thought to himself, quickly grabbing hold of Estel and pushing the child behind him.

The man let go of his shoulder. But instead of handing the two over to the Orc, their guard swiftly drew his sword and decapitated the Orc, the creatures face locked in eternal shock. Black blood dripping from his weapon, the man turned toward them. "I did not take you to the stream because I have no intention of allowing Ciydan to go through with this deal of his. I have partaken in enough murder and slaving, I'll not do it anymore. You are free to go."

He slipped the sword back into its sheath.

Legolas released the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. "This is no trick?"

Shaking his head, the man answered quietly. "It is not. The boy's tales were quiet...inspiring."

Estel looked up. "You're really letting us go, Mr?"

Nodding, the man turned to Legolas. "I'll leave you with some bandages and a direction. You were taken northwest of here, you would then wish to travel back that way." He pointed toward a far off mountain. "Head toward that peak and you will find yourself in the realm of Rivendell."

He turned and began to walk away. To Legolas' surprise, Estel shook himself free of the Elf's hold and ran to the man, grabbing his shirttails. "Please, Mr. Come with us! Ciydan will kill you when he finds out you let us go."

The pleading in the child's eyes and voice melted Marken's heart. He smiled lightly, for the first time in a long time feeling good about himself and something he had done. "I've taken part in far too many horrible dealings, little one. I do not think I deserve a kinder fate then death."

"No one deserves a painful death who saves the life of innocents, Sir." Legolas was now abreast of Estel and Marken. "May we have the name of our benefactor?"

"Aye, my name is Marken son of Argon, once of a land near Bree. I know these woods well and have had dealings with the Elves of Rivendell, many years ago."

Legolas nodded. The man was past middle-age, but didn't look to be terribly old. There was wisdom in his eyes, but also great pain. Great pain from the hurt he had brought upon others and pain that he would never be able to forgive himself for those wrongs. Legolas could read all this and more in Marken's eyes.

"Marken, you could come to Rivendell with us. Ada would not be mad at you. You saved us...he would be glad!" Estel still had a hold on Marken's shirt tails. The man looked about to reply when they heard rapidly approaching shouts.

Legolas and Marken exchanged glances. Ciydan and his men and Orcs were gaining on them. "Yes, Marken, I must insist you come with us. I have not had ample opportunity to thank you and I refuse to allow you to leave until I have."

That said, Legolas glanced upward. "We take to the trees."

Scooping up Estel with a strength he did not know he still possessed, Legolas hoisted the child up into the dense folliage of the tree above. He looked at Marken, "Go up the tree."

"What about you? You are injured and no match for a fight."

A small smile crossed Legolas' face. "I am not of Rivendell, Marken. I am a wood-Elf. I know what I am doing."

That was of little reassurance to Marken, who knew nothing of the wood-Elves. But he did not hesitate, pulling himself up in the tree he joined Estel as high as he could go and waited tensely for Legolas to appear.

The two refugees could hear Legolas lightly moving about below them, but neither had any idea what he was doing because they could no longer see the ground through the leaves.

Legolas, meanwhile, was creating a number of trails to confuse the trackers that Ciydan may possess. He didn't want to risk just having the one real trail end abruptly. The men would know something was up. When he was relatively satisfied with his work, he returned to the tree. Climbing slowly up its branches, he soon joined Marken and Estel.

The Elf climbed a few branches higher, leaving a shocked Marken below him with Estel. The child looked ready to follow, but Legolas stopped him. "Do not come higher, Estel. The tree could not hold the weight."

"How can it hold a grown Elf?" Marken whispered.

Legolas laughed lightly, a tinkling sound barely audible to the man. "Elves weigh little compared to Men, Marken. It is why we leave little or no imprints upon the forest floor and how we travel among the treetops."

He paused, looking at the tree around them, then began to speak in Elvish, asking the tree to shield them from unfriendly eyes. The power of the Elves was dwindling, yes, but still great. And the power of wood-Elves, royalty in particular, allowed them the ability to correspond, however primatively, with their forest surroundings.

The tree branches shifted and rustled until they had formed a tight cocoon around the three occupants. Legolas smiled again. The only light that permeated their cocoon was the light glow the Elf himself gave off. It was as if they were indoors. The tree had hidden them from unfriendly eyes.

"That is amazing," Marken commented to no one in particular.

Estel shifted beside him. "Please come down, Legolas. I'm scared."

Legolas' eyes softened and he slipped down to Estel, embracing the child. "All is well now, Estel. The tree will not let them get to us. We will remain here until it tells me the area is safe."

Marken suddenly felt odd and clumsy. This creature of the light was so graceful and poignant with words and actions. And he was a clumsy oaf. Or so he felt at the moment. He hung his head a little, not realizing that Legolas was watching him closely.

Sensing the man's emotions, Legolas reached out and laid a hand on Marken's shoulder. "You have done us a great service. As you have done for the Lord of Rivendell as well by saving his adopted son."

Marken looked at Estel in a new light. "His son? I did not know this. But it would have had no influence on my decision, he is too young and innocent for such a hard fate." The man then noticed sweat on the Elf's brow. Elves don't sweat... "You are not well, Master Elf."

Legolas sighed. "Alas I fear I am not."

Estel jerked away from him. "Legolas? No...you are...you have to be...I can't lose you!" He then proceeded to latch himself onto the Elf, tightly wrapping his arms around Legolas' neck and hanging on for dear life.

Legolas grunted and rubbed his back. "Easy, Estel. I am not so good right now, but I will be all right in the end. Please do not worry for me, tithen pen."

"I have some healer abilities," Marken said suddenly, shifting his position. "And if I recall correctly, so does the boy. Perhaps we can be of assistance."

Estel looked up, red-rimmed eyes widening. "Yeah! We could help you, Legolas!" He sat up now, looking to Marken. "What do we do?"

The man took over. "First, we must get a look at that wound. But there isn't much light in here. Could the tree perhaps open up a little at the top to let some sunlight in?"

Legolas nodded, resting his palm on the tree trunk. In a moment, there was an influx of light. Marken nodded. "All right. Now, lets uncover this, little one."

Estel put a hand on Marken's arm, stopping him. "Ok. But you have to call me Estel."

"Estel it is then."

And the two set about tending to Legolas' wound.

Meanwhile...

Loud shouts could be heard nearby. Elladan and Elrohir tensed, recognizing the voices as a mixture of Men and Orcs. "This can't be a good sign," Elladan muttered under his breath. "Orcs, Men...Legolas. Definitely not a good combination. Not after what happened to Legolas mother."

The twins knew the stories. They knew that the Prince, though he was a full-fledged warrior, had not been able to budge from his position in a nearby tree as the Orcs beat his mother to death. No one knew the reason why he had been unable to move. Relatively little frightened the young Prince.

It had been hundreds of years since the incident, and by all intents and purposes, Legolas should have been over it. He had moved on in a way, but not the right way. Thranduil had told them when he brought the Prince to Rivendell, that Legolas had secluded himself from other Elves and focused unerringly on his training and weapons.

He dearly loved his bow and knives, never straying far from them. Elladan frowned, feeling the added weight of his long-time friends weapons strapped to his own back along with his own. I hope all is well, Legolas. We can not lose you. We have to heal you and remind you there are still good things in this world. If Estel hasn't already. Estel. Oh, brother I miss you already. One never knows how much they care for someone until they face losing them.

The Noldor Elf was shaken from his reverie by his brother's call. "Elladan, they are getting closer. And they sound angry. Something about a double crosser and those two prisoners escaping. Do you think they mean Legolas and Estel? Could they have been their kidnappers? What shall we do?"

Elladan looked up. "Take care of them."

His brother frowned. They had painstakingly worked to get over their kill-every-Orc-in-Middle-Earth phase after their mother's capture and torture. But Elrohir could hear that same tone in his brothers voice now. "Elladan. We must not kill hastily."

"I am not going to, El. I will see if they are the ones before I behead any of them with my sword."

Elrohir frowned. "Yes. You remember to do that."

Soon, they were within sight of the other party. A dark-skinned man, followed closely by a white man, looked to be the leaders. The white man spied them first and drew the group to a halt. "Elves of this wood, show yourselves or we will fire on you."

Elladan and Elrohir exchanged glances, then emerged from the trees. The Orcs suddenly backed up and started to fidget. Ciydan looked up. That's odd. Orcs are not afraid of anyone...why do these two Elves make them nervous? "Who are you?"

"We are Elladan and Elrohir, sons of Lord Elrond of Rivendell. You are trespassing in this Elven Realm and we demand that you state your business here," Elladan answered, not once breaking eye contact with Ciydan.

The man did not like the tone of voice he was being spoken to in. "I do not recognize the authority of the Elves to claim lordship over these lands. Perhaps you two young ones should go home."

Elladan tightened his grip on his sword, but held his temper. "You do not know whom you call young, Man. If you think yourself older, wiser or more skilled then us, you will quickly find yourself mistaken," Elrohir answered.

Ciydan frowned. "That so? Well, if Elves are so superior to us, how is it that I caught one and he is now somewhere in this forest bleeding to death from a fatal stab wound?"

That was all it took for the twins to snap. In a blur of blue and green tunic, they attacked, weaving a deadly swath through the Men and Orcs. Ciydan and the black trader stepped back from the fury of the two Elves, fully realizing just what they were up against. Soon, it was Elladan and Elrohir and Ciydan and the slaver.

"I fear I have said something ill," Ciydan said with a shaky grin. "We were only jesting you know."

Elrohir shook his head. "You did not jest. This is the group we have been tracking. You have taken our friend Legolas and little brother Estel. We want them back. If you tell us where they are, we may kill you quickly. If not..."

"I can not tell you where they are. One of my men liberated them. They have escaped and we do not know where they are. You must believe that," the slaver was begging. It was evident in his tone.

Elladan cut him down. "Slavers have no care but for themselves." Turning to Ciydan, he advanced on him. Elrohir wanted to stop his brother, but he didn't. He hated the man just as much. "Where are Legolas and Estel?"

"It is as he told you. They have escaped."

Slash, thud.

"Not the answer I was looking for."

Elrohir was glaring at his brother. "You did not have to do that, Elladan."

"Didn't have to? You heard what he said. You heard what they did to Legolas.Who knows what condition Estel is in. They kidnapped and injured our loved ones. I could not let them live."

Elrohir sighed. "So now you are judge and executioner."

Elladan turned away and marched off into the woods. He would follow the trail the slavers had been traveling. Something told him that Legolas did not come this way. No, Legolas has taken to the trees. Now to find out which one.

Elrohir sighed and hurried to catch up.

A/N: Please r/r. I thrive on your awesome comments! I hope you enjoyed this chapter.