CHPATER TWENTY-THREE

What Must Be

"If you are going through hell, keep going." - Sir Winston Churchill (1874-1965)

The cries of the men and the fight died down and in the small passageway the four companions listened to insure that all had left. From what they had heard, it had been a horrible loss, for Legolas. Time was now critically short.

Waiting a good fifteen minutes before they opened the door, Glorfindel was the first to peek out through the diminutive crack. His blue eyes flickered as he took in the scene before him. Legolas was being dragged out by his arms and pulled away. Blood ran from his mouth and nose. His face was pale and his eyes were rolled back into his head.

Glorfindel was under the impression he was dead. The thought struck him like a troll's hammer might have and he winced noticeably. Rothinzil said quietly, "let me have a peek."

"You don't want to, Roth," said Glorfindel, "trust me on this." He used all his strength to not shudder or let tears seep out from under closing eyes. He sighed and whispered, "I mean it, Roth."

Rothinzil understood, but he still wanted to see what evil had befallen his prince and dearest friend. "Oh, Legolas," he said as he looked over Glorfindel's head from where the Gondolin Elf was crouched near the ground. He felt tears springing up to his eyes and he pulled away from Glorfindel and collapsed to his knees in hopeless despair.

He said nothing but looked into the darkness with tearful eyes that quickly were shedding their burdens in silver drops. His dark-hair fell over his face and hid the pain. Elméra quickly stepped over to him and placed her hand on his shoulder and then she crouched by him and said, "we will get him back. Do not worry."

Rothinzil nodded numbly. Glorfindel said, "we need a plan."

Caranfëa rolled his eyes and said gruffly, "glad you have figured that out by now." His sarcastic tone garnered him a sharp and annoyed look from Glorfindel and Elméra.

"You know for just being saved from a cruel death you certainly have a rather cynical point of view on everything," concluded the Gondolin Balrog-Slayer.

"Well what are we going to do?" asked Elméra. "I mean it would seem that Caranfëa and myself could go and find Celebalda since we know this place better than you and Roth and Glorfindel would most likely want to be the one to get Erestor and this…Aragorn?-free. I know Roth would like to be the one to save Legolas."

Caranfëa felt a jolt at the name 'Celebalda'. His father was here. Valar! He had not seen him in years! And his sister, he had nearly forgotten about them through his long separation away from friends and family. All he had remembered for so long was pain and being lonesome.

His thoughts were drawn away from his eye-opening monologue as Glorfindel spoke again to disclose his thoughts.

"That actually would be feasible," said Glorfindel, "if the proper precautions are taken."

Rothinzil sighed and said, "there is no way to take precautions, Lord Glorfindel. That chance was lost ere we came here. We are going to have to trust to faith and friendship."

"That is insane….I like it," said Glorfindel with a demented obscuration of a smile. He thereupon frowned. "But once we put this into action, there is no going back. We will be separated and there will be no chance to communicate until the end and we are standing outside the doors."

"But the doors have the grate slammed across them now," said Rothinzil. "I saw it when I found you."

"Certainly there is a back door," answered Glorfindel calmly.

Caranfëa was silent and then he said, "There might be, but we will never find it in time. And time is more precious than you know," he added. "Orcs are threatening to break through the far wall, in the room where Prince Legolas is held along with Aragorn and Erestor."

"Oh, yes, they were both captured trying to free Legolas and myself," explained Caranfëa to the others, whose surprised faces spoke volumes. But then the red-haired Elf whispered extremely low and precariously, "King has a malice against Lord Erestor like the Eagles have against orcs. If he is as angry as I think he is about Legolas' loss then it will not be long before Erestor or even this human you speak of understand what it means to get onto his bad side…even more so than Legolas." The shorter Elf's voice was now in desperate and quick tones.

Glorfindel's face was grey and is eyes were wide, but he got himself under control and shook his head, "we can't let anything happen to Estel and Erestor or anything further happen to Legolas."

Rothinzil looked serious and grave, nearly like an Elf-lord of the deep past and his darkened hazel eyes connected with Glorfindel's blue ones in a knowing look. This was going to be an impossible mission to perform.

"We have everything to lose and very little time to do so, so I suggest we get moving," advised Glorfindel sharply. "The more we put it off the more time we give for our friends to suffer and postpone the inevitable."

"You sound very much like Lord Erestor," commented Rothinzil dryly with a wry look at the golden-haired being. Glorfindel didn't argue and he hardly seemed to notice the tease.

Elméra tensed and looked at Rothinzil with heart-heavy eyes. She didn't want to leave him, not knowing if she would ever see him again. Her eyes seemed to glisten in the dark like a set of stars, like the star Helluin, a favorite star of Rothinzil's. She smiled when she saw him looking at her and he smiled back before turning slightly red.

Glorfindel and Caranfëa sensed Roth's and Elméra's want to be alone for a moment. Silently stepping out through the door, now that the men were gone, they left the pair of lovers to themselves.

Rothinzil stepped close to her and she softly whispered, "I don't want to leave you."

"All will be well, trust me, we will be fine in the end and so will everyone else," he reassured her gently. "Your eyes are like to blue star Helluin, and so I shall call you."

She looked uncertain and then she smiled brightly, "very well, Rothinzil. I would be honored to carry the name of an Elven star."

"Cormamin niuve tenna' ta elea lle au'. My heart shall weep until it sees thee again." Rothinzil murmured sweetly to her. She shivered before speaking again.

"I think that the patience of the Lord Glorfindel and the warrior Caranfëa are running thin and so is time." Her eyes dimmed and she said seriously, "we had better leave." Roth turned completely grave and then he pressed his lips over hers gently in a delicate kiss of farewell.

"Legolas! Legolas! Legolas! Legolas! Legolas! LEGOLAS!" A voice drummed through the prince's diluted attentiveness and he mumbled,

"no, go away…" His voice sounded soft and the speech was slurred.

"Legolas! Wake up!" came the voice again. It was annoying, vexatious, firm…it sounded like Erestor, noted the fair-haired Elf irritably.

Opening his eyes he saw Erestor peering at him with anxious grey eyes and a frowning expression. The counselor smiled with relief and he said, "it about time, I thought you never were going to wake up. I thought they…" he let his voice squeeze off and Legolas muttered,

"I'm never better." He tried to sit up and suddenly found out that was a horrible mistake as his head swam and he collapsed back against the cold, bare stone of…Erestor's cell? What in the name of Eru was he doing in here?

The dark-haired adviser scowled and said, "you took quite a beating, I'm surprised you are still around." He looked like he was hurting himself and he stared at the prince curiously for a moment. "Don't worry, this isn't over yet."

"I wish it was," mumbled the yellow-haired Elf.

He suddenly went white and looked around in alarm. "Where in Eru is Estel?" he asked loudly and his voice carried throughout the room.

The young ranger was no where in sight. Legolas felt alarm and horror growing inside. He had lost the fight, so what had King done to his best friend? If Aragorn was in pain or dead it was all his fault and he would never forgive himself. That was a promise.

Erestor said, "he was taken away not too long ago." Legolas struggled to get up and the counselor placed his hands on the younger Elf's shoulders, forcing him to stay down. "Legolas, there is nothing you can do and you can't afford to get hurt any more than you are."

The dark-haired Elf wrinkled his brow suddenly and he went stiff. Legolas watched as the counselor's face went white then a grey. "Orcs!" he hissed. "I can hear their voices distinctly."

Legolas raised his head, "they are breaking in."

He suddenly saw Erestor's wound, crimson and still bleeding. He noticed that the adviser's breath was far from serene as it usually was and that in fact it was erratic and sounded painful. "Erestor, you have taken grievous hurt…"

"And you haven't?" he interrupted, raising a brow in question. "Don't start that with me, Prince Legolas Greenleaf Thranduillion!" he warned in a growl.

A loud bang startled both of the Elves and Legolas knew without looking that King was back. He winced and tried to harden his eyes again, but he felt so tired and weak, it was near impossible.

The irate man came in and he looked at Legolas' form lying on the ground. Then, seeing Erestor crouching near the blonde prince, he said, "You're next counselor!" His voice sounded threatening and totally sinister. The man was livid.

Erestor felt his temper bristling and he said, "you have done enough. Can't you just leave him alone?"

"You are in way over your head, Elf. You can't talk your way out of this one and there is no golden-haired Elf to save you here," informed King with a sneer. He watched Erestor's face contort in fervent pain and he smiled. "He is dead."

The man then reached down and grabbed Legolas by his hair, pulling the Elf-prince up to his knees and from there up to his feet. "My patience for you is gone, little prince." He set his hand on his throat and pressed in, slamming the weak Elf against the wall. "You lose one more sparring match and cost me money again I promise you this; your life will be a living Hell. Remember Elf, you live forever and that's a long time for me to prove to you how cruel I can be."

"You can be crueler than this? You had me fooled," croaked the prince through his constricted windpipe.

King cut off Legolas' air the rest of the way and then snarled, "you are not worth my time." He watched the blue eyes glaze over and the face turn a bright red, then a grey, and then a pale and darkening blue. He smiled as Legolas' eyes closed, lips quivered and body writhed before going completely still.

Erestor wanted to scream, but he knew it would do no good and would only serve King better. So he kept his mouth shut tightly and his lips were a thin white line. But his eyes spoke volumes and he couldn't hide it, no matter what he tried.

He could have helped Legolas, but he was too weak. His wound still was leaking blood and body fluid. All his strength was utterly taken from him.

He watched Legolas crumple to the ground and his blonde hair slid to cover his pale face. His chest still rose and fell slightly; the prince was only passed out from the lack of oxygen.

King glared at Erestor and he smiled, "now for you, my friend." He produced a small phial from his pocket. It was crystal and a red liquid swished inside as he shook it. A grin spread across the man's face and he said, "do you even know what this ingenious potion is?"

Erestor narrowed his eyes defiantly and refused to speak as King stalked towards him with an insane and devious look reflecting in his dark set eyes.

"I didn't think so, scholar," he spat scornfully. "This," he held it up and shook it. "Is a poison without even a true name. I made it myself, with you in mind." He smiled in a secondary way and began to rattle off effects. "Horrible pain spasms, and memory loss," he finished with a laugh.

Erestor felt his stomach churn and he grimaced inwardly. He forced a scowl. "I hope you didn't expect me to just willingly drink it?" he said with a sigh. "I would hate to disappoint you." He couldn't help himself, but to infuriate his captor.

"Hardly," retorted the man as he popped the top. "And did I mention the affect it takes on wounds? They can't heal." Taking his hand he backslapped the dark-haired Elf and then grabbing some of the chains that were still in the room, he fastened the counselor's hand to together tightly, so the metal bit into the skin.

Erestor refused to cry out and forced himself to be contented to suck the blood running from his lip. King ripped the shreds of bloodied tunic away from the knife wound and he held the opened bottle just above it, so the lip nearly brushed the tender skin. Then he gave it a tap with is forefinger and the liquid fire dripped onto the laceration.

Erestor hissed and stiffened as he felt it lance through his abdomen and he closed his eyes. King smiled and he felt joy run through is heart as he saw the intercessor's pain. Erestor shivered, unable to stop himself.

King then grabbed Erestor's hair and tilted his head up so his chin was facing the dirt ceiling. Erestor struggled but it was pointless. He felt cold fear that blinded him clutch him tightly, so it seemed to suffocate him.

His breathing accelerated and he closed his eyes, afraid that his profound fright would show. But it was too late, King already knew and he laughed. "Take your medicine Elf."

Erestor felt the glass lip of the phial press into his mouth and he shut his teeth tightly together. A kick to his wound and his mouth opened in an agony infused gasp. The liquid ran swiftly down his throat like hot oil might down wax paper. He tried to cough it up as he was released, but he could not.

It had no effect on his stomach in the beginning, making it impossible for him to throw it up. Keeping his eyes to the ground, Erestor refused to meet the triumphant gaze of his enemy. He had felt so defiant only moments ago and now he felt nothing except a new feeling of his life being ripped cruelly away.

King glared and said, "and my first phase of revenge is finished and it is sweet." His eyes ran over the now shivering form of the counselor.

Looking at Legolas, the man smirked. "And when you wake up I promise you your life will be a living Hell." He then slammed the prison door and left both the Elves.

Glorfindel and Rothinzil watched as a man walked from the place where Caranfëa had said Aragorn, Erestor and Legolas were being held.

King stopped short when he saw the two Elves facing him and his surprise was more than evident. He worked to keep his voice flat. "Glorfindel? You are alive?" He frowned and said, "I am sorry to hear that."

"Not as sorry as you are going to be," hissed the golden-haired Elf as he and Rothinzil drew their weapons. "I don't wish to kill you. I never have. But you have pushed me too far." Glancing at Roth with a curt nod, he whispered to the dark-haired warrior, "you go and get prince Legolas and Erestor. I will finish with this scum."

King drew his own sword, but Glorfindel advancing had stricken fear into his heart. He had nothing but contempt for this Elf so many tales had told of. He hated and wished to slay the golden-haired nuisance, but he was not stupid. Unless Glorfindel was ambushed, a mortal man had no chance against him in battle, unless Glorfindel was seriously wounded or distracted.

Roth looked to the other Elf and smiled, "of course."

He side stepped King and paid no heed when the man cried after him, "Legolas is no longer himself. He is too weak to survive much longer!"

Glorfindel smiled coldly and said, "so tell me, after killing me and brutally murdering my friends and companions, what then was it you were going to do?" He smirked, "how did you expect to escape the wrath and revenge of the Elves, Beleg?"

"I expected that dead Elves tell no tales and brain washed and captive ones don't either." His response was as Glorfindel might have expected.

Before making his fist move towards the cornered human Glorfindel declared. "Erestor, Legolas and Estel are coming home, along with Celebalda and his remaining Elves." He placed his sword against King's and clanged it. "At least give me a fight."

"I will give you more than a fight. Even if you rescue Erestor, he will never be himself again. His memory will be gone in a few hours and right now he is in a delirious stupor." King struck out at Glorfindel to kill, but the Gondolin Elf easily parried the blow and all but knocked King's sword out of his hand.

"And your precious ranger, he is beyond being rescued," sneered the man as he back stepped to prevent his head from being cut off by Glorfindel's quick blade.

Glorfindel kept his face calm or angered, blocking out the fear that gripped his heart. What ever had this horribly cruel man done to his lord's son? "What evil have you committed other than those against my race?" he inquired of the Dark Dúnadan.

He smiled a knowing smile as his sword nearly cleaved Glorfindel's skull but for the quick reflexes of the opponent. "He is dangling over a pit of venomous snakes. A single bite is fatal, unless you are made of the antidote." He had laughter in his eyes. "And they jump pretty high."

Glorfindel asked, "you mean like you?" And he swiped his blade at the man's legs. King leaped up into the air and backward to avoid a severe wound. Glorfindel sneered.

The ex-ranger snapped. "You are dead, Gondolin dwelling coward!" Glorfindel's face darkened and King sealed his certain death as he spat. "Craven Elves, living in a shadowed kingdom and killing those who came near."

Glorfindel came at him with a deadly fire in his eyes. He had not killed and been killed by a Balrog to be called craven. He brought his sword down hard and King's own did not have the strength to block the blow and it shattered at the hilt.

Glorfindel watched as surprise, fear and anger danced across the human's face in about three seconds and then he looked up at Glorfindel with wide eyes as the golden-haired Elf knocked him to the ground. Placing his boot on top of the man's chest and his sword's point on the throat, Glorfindel pressed the blade in.

He felt a sharp pain as the broken sword near the hilt was stabbed into his leg, barely making it through his boot. But Glorfindel's hard and angered expression did not change as he inwardly winced. "I want you to look me in the eye and tell me that you think your revenge so sweet now."

King said nothing and Glorfindel gave a cold and sneering smile. "I thought as much." With all the force he had, he stabbed and King gave him a frightened and angered look before bleeding out and dying before him and only then Glorfindel stepped back.

His breath was level, surprisingly, as he began to run towards Rothinzil's aid.

When he came in, he saw that the dark-haired warrior had already broken the lock on the door with his sword. He was kneeling by Legolas. Tears were in his eyes and he whispered, "my prince and friend, wake. Please."

He brushed his fingers gently along Legolas' cheek and the prince stirred. His glazed blue eyes opening at his friend's gentle touch, the first real kindness she had felt unlooked for in this misery in days. They locked on Roth's and he murmured, "this is a dream. I have been drugged." He shivered and Rothinzil smiled.

"No. It is real. You are going to be saved." He wined as he saw all the blood on Legolas' face and the pain in the tired eyes. The way Legolas' speech was slurred and the way he did not shut his mouth told the warrior of the wounds that were unseen. He saw the blood lining the corners of the lips and he said, "Legolas I am so sorry."

The blonde Elf grasped Rothinzil's hand tightly and said, "I am glad you are hear." Then realizing his surroundings he asked hurriedly, "but where is King? Where are the men?"

Roth said, "shhhhhh….Glorfindel has taken care of King. He will never trouble you again." Roth placed a hand around Legolas' middle and helped the Elf to sit up. He felt hardly anything between the ribs and his hand. It made him shudder. And when he looked at Legolas more closely, he saw that his waist was extremely thin and the ribs were evident. He looked more of the bones than he did Elf in flesh and blood.

Legolas sighed and leaned against Roth's warm cloak and tunic, burying his face in his friend's garments. "Thank you, my dear Rothinzil," he murmured into the tunic. "I was so afraid."

Roth nodded and held Legolas like a mother might comfort a frightened child after a nightmare. "I know." Hearing Legolas admit he had been frightened chilled Rothinzil, who had always seen Legolas as being unshakable, even though he knew otherwise.

Taking his cloak off, he carefully covered Legolas' frame with it. Legolas whispered, "thank you, my friend."

Roth smiled and asked with a laugh in his voice, "what are friends for?"

The words of Rothinzil echoed throughout Legolas' mind and he gasped, jerking free of Rothinzil's comforting embrace before crying out, "where is Estel?" He had not forgotten King's mortal threat.

Glorfindel stepped in and answered, "in a pit of deadly snakes, somewhere." The golden-haired Elf collapsed by Erestor's side and looked into the unseeing eyes of the counselor.

"You idiot," he mumbled in pain at the strange feeling of loss that he felt as he saw Erestor didn't even glare much less smart back. Glorfindel didn't understand the hot tears he felt clouding his blue eyes and he checked Erestor's pulse. "You are the most annoying, stupid, insane, crafty, obnoxious, pig-headed, best friend I ever had," finished Glorfindel as he realized that Erestor indeed still lived. The pulse was weak, but unmistakably there.

The counselor shivered and curled into himself. Glorfindel carefully, so as not to cause Erestor more pain, gathered him up in his arms. Leaving his sword lying on the ground. Looking into Erestor's face, he saw how twisted it was in agony. The poison was torturing him.

Glorfindel noticed the large laceration across Erestor's middle and he saw the crimson blood on his fingers and staining his tunic. "Eru Erestor!" He knew that the wound was going to have to wait until later, but it hurt him to see Erestor thus. He was a counselor. This wasn't supposed to happen to him. And it was all Glorfindel's fault. He should have protected him better.

Roth and Legolas looked at the two friends with sorrowful faces. They did not know what to say and so they looked away.

Suddenly Erestor began to chant deliriously, obviously not aware of himself:

An attack unlooked for

At Thangorodrim

High, inescapable precipice of rock.

Shadow and Flame,

Rock and darkness.

Long Glorfindel the Valiant

And the Balrog dueled.

While Aredhel watched

And others cringed.

But then we lost him,

Elf dear to us,

Though his enemy fell.

Both dropped to ruin

In the abyss below.

But the Eagles! The Eagles!

They came and bore up the body

Of our valiant warrior.

A mound of stones they made.

And so it remained,

Until the world was changed.

Legolas and Rothinzil's faces were white, but none compared to Glorfindel's. He felt suddenly very ill and he swayed as he held Erestor. All the Elves of Rivendell had been extremely careful about never singing songs that spoke of Gondolin and its fall, much less Glorfindel's death.

Even though Glorfindel knew that Erestor had not meant to do it, the memories still stung his heart like a thousand darts smiting it at once. Erestor suddenly gave cry of intense pain and Glorfindel pulled him close, shaking him gingerly to try and bring him back, afraid of causing more hurt. "Erestor, stop it! Please, you are frightening me and it isn't very becoming of an Elf-lord!"

There was no response and the counselor's face went a shade paler. Then the poisoned Elf began to shiver violently. He suddenly seemed to regain his sight and drifted back into reality. Looking up into Glorfindel's anxious face, he asked, "how did you find me? He said you were dead."

Glorfindel smiled and said, "a slight exaggeration on his part, though if I said it about him, it might be an understatement." Erestor remained limp and then he closed his eyes, sighing contentedly.

"I am glad you came to save me," there was an attempt at joyfulness in his voice. "I know your face, but I can't remember your name."

Glorfindel felt tears biting the corners of his eyes and he let them escape. One fell onto Erestor's face with a gentle and minute splash and the counselor opened his eyes. "You never know what you have until it's gone." Glorfindel nodded.

"But I am going to save you."

"You don't always have to be the hero," answered Erestor with a faint smile. "I am in horrible pain and my mind is fading. You can leave me behind and escape yourself. If you slew Beleg as you say, they will be after you and carrying me will slow you." Erestor's face then turned and sickly green and his eyes rolled back as he passed out from the intoxication of the drug. Glorfindel knew what Erestor meant and the words burned him as effectively as a torch might have.

The Gondolin Elf whispered "friends don't desert their friends…ever."

Legolas stumbled up and said, "truer words were never spoken." He had a defiant look coming back into his tired eyes. "I am going to find Estel. I refuse to leave without him."

Rothinzil said, "Legolas…"

"Do not try and stop me or I will be forced to take drastic measures," warned the Wood Elf angrily.

Rothinzil said (completely changing what he was going to say), "I wouldn't dream of it."

Legolas asked quietly. "You have done a lot for me Rothinzil, but I have one more favor to ask of you. Please come with me and help me. Will you be there to help me when I fall? I cannot do this alone." Of course what Legolas was asking was far more than one favor. But Roth was not going to say no, it as impossible.

Rothinzil smiled faintly and he said with his whole heart, "of course."

Glorfindel knew that there was going to be no arguing. It was impossible. He shifted Erestor in his arms and carefully supported his fading friend's head. "Be careful," he warned in a dark tone. "I should be the one going back. Legolas, you are far too weak," he addressed the Sindarin Prince.

Legolas stumbled forward a few more steps and then said, "I am not alone. Roth will be with me. We will find him and bring him out or we will die trying."

"That is exactly what worries me," stated Glorfindel firmly. "You could be killed. We have lost enough and knowing you the way I do you will be killed."

Roth snickered. "Hurt nearly beyond repair is more like it. Legolas always weasels his way out of death's grasp."

"Because he usually wants to be saved, Rothinzil," snapped Glorfindel testily. "And he had Aragorn to pull him through those times."

A bang was heard and Legolas hissed, "I had forgotten about the orcs! Valar! Oh blessed Eru! They are breaking through." He turned dimming blue eyes on the golden-haired Balrog-Slayer. "Be careful on your way back."

"You never give up, do you princeling?" asked Glorfindel with a glare. "Remind me never to go to Mirkwood again. Your father would take my head off if he knew what I am about to let you attempt." Glorfindel shivered to make a point.

"I will remember to tell him that he should set a high price on your golden-head," teased Legolas as he began to walk away with Rothinzil at his side.

"I have no desire to be like Tuor," retorted Glorfindel as he began to walk out still bearing Erestor's limp body.

Legolas didn't even respond to that remark, he was now bending all his thought to getting Aragorn back. Grabbing a torch from the wall scone, he watched for moment as the flames danced and nearly snuffed out.

As they walked out of the room he sighed. Where exactly did one go and look for a pit of venomous most likely hungry, snakes? In the darkest places that were least disturbed most likely. But where were those? He looked sidelong at Rothinzil with his brows knitted in question. Roth shrugged as if to ward off the frustrated prince.

"Great," growled Legolas as he struggled to remain standing and not fall flat on his face with pain and weariness. "We don't even know where to start!" he seethed more at himself than anyone or anything else.

Rothinzil said, "well the darkest places wouldn't be a bad place."

Caranfëa and Elméra walked through the last possible corridor that could lead to the prison where Celebalda and his remaining Elves were being held. Elméra noticed that the red-haired Elf had been quiet as the dead the entire search and he would often sigh as though something pained him.

Elméra stumbled on something and she gasped when she realized it was the frozen corpse of a slain Elf. His eyes were still large and frozen in fear, but everything else looked at peace. So she and Caranfëa found the body of Thalionril.

"Leave him," said Caranfëa thickly. "We shall pass this way again and then we shall get a decent burial for him."

They traveled further into the dim halls and Elméra felt herself choking up. Just as she thought she was about to despair, they came to the last room.

"This is the last room he could be in, you said so yourself," reminded Elméra as she gripped Roth's sword tightly. It was like her security right now, but it as no substitute for the hand of her lover.

Caranfëa just nodded numbly. "You had better stay out here."

"My brother is in there. I refuse to be left out of this engagement just because of who and what I am!" she growled. She didn't realize until Caranfëa beckoned her to lower her blade that she had it raised up and pointing at his throat.

"I may be many things, including mad, but I am not your enemy!" he scolded. "And if you want to get yourself killed, don't let me be a hindrance to you."

She stammered, "I am sorry. Just a bit on edge, I suppose."

"Just a little," assured the little Elf as he still stepped back.

A cry of anger more than pain or fear came from beyond the door and Caranfëa exchanged looks with the maiden next to him. "We found them," she said briskly, anger edging her voice. She could not believe her brother was this cruel. She just could not believe it. But she still was finding a hard time thinking about actually killing him, even though he as insane and gone horrible evil.

Caranfëa kicked against the weak, half-rotten wooden door . It gave with a loud creak and the sight before them was enough to make Elméra throw up all over Caranfëa, who was in shock.

His wrists from the ceiling chained Shaalth and his head was limp, hanging forward on his breast. It was not whip weals that marred his clammy chest and back, but brutal bruises, deep and many. A rib or two had to be cracked and at least one splintered.

Blood ran from his mouth in little rivulets. Before him Celebalda was chained…and unhurt.

He was bucking against his bonds, trying desperately to get to his companion who was being battered to death. "You coward!" he accused Calmir angrily. "If you want to make me scream, why don't you torture me instead?"

A smooth and scornful laugh drifted through the room and the words made Celebalda want to choke the insane man with his bare hands. "Because it is so much easier this way and I can hurt you twice. Eyes with tears are such beautiful things, aren't they?"

"You are sick," spat Celebalda with disdain.

Elméra ran over and stood by the hanging Elf, which was obviously dying and tried to push him up against the chains to take some of the weight off his wrists. He cried out softly and said in a murmur, "please no more. Please…"

It broke the maiden's heart and she whispered into his pointed ear, "no. We have come to help. You shan't be touched again. I promise." He turned a pair of blood shot and glazed eyes upon her, fear reflecting in them. "I promise," she reassured him gently and her arms trembled as she struggled to hold him against the shackles.

He coughed and more blood came from his mouth. Calmir saw her and Caranfëa and a smile played across his lips. "Sister, dearest, you lied to me. That Elf is nowhere to be found." He had his sword in hand and he was looking curiously at it, thinning about whether or not he should disembowel Shaalth.

Caranfëa went forward and stepped between Celebalda and Calmir's blade as the mad man started to come towards the captain, sword poised to attack. Celebalda's shocked face was not to be matched ever by any in Middle Earth and he stammered, "Caranfëa? How-"

"It is a long story There won't be time to tell you for a while," his broken wrist throbbed and he held it to his side. Weaponless, Caranfëa was unable to fight. But he was willing to take the blows for his father. He had just found him and wasn't going to loose him now.

"Caranfëa, I command you to stand aside!" demanded Celebalda. His eyes were narrowed and grim, set face, like in stone, made Caranfëa nearly obey him. But he had been made stubborn by the hardships and trials in the wilderness, followed by a cruel and enduring captivity.

"I am sorry father," he said wearily and faced Calmir. In a voice that cut like steal, he spoke slowly, "you will not harm either of them again."

But Calmir's focus was not on the father and son, but on Elméra and Shaalth. Shaalth looked at Calmir with nothing but fear in his eyes and he began to quake. His breathing accelerated as much as it could with his battered and broken chest. Elméra whispered, "By Illuvatar, I promise, he shall not harm you again. Do not fear."

Calmir just smiled and said, "sister, so tell me, did that Elf you hide…die, hm? How much pain was he in before he went?

The maiden watched as her brother fingered his blade and she said sardonically, "I regret to inform you that he lives." Then her voice went serious, "he is an Elf. He will live forever." She still had no idea that Roth wasn't going to live forever now.

Calmir just shook his head. "The time for these Elves is up, anyway."

He stepped up by Shaalth and looked into the horrified Elf's frightened eyes. With a grin he drew back his fist to strike the defenseless being's chest that was already pushed to its limits.

Quick as a snake, Elméra stabbed with Rothinzil's sword and it delved into her brother's breast. He fell to the ground as it wrenched his heart and he gave a twisted scream before he drew his last breath.

The woman shrieked and as she pulled the weapon free she stammered, "I didn't mean to! I-I-I…." She had killed her own brother. It was his own fault, but she had done it and she could not erase that fact. Tears streamed down her face in silver runnels.

Shaalth just looked shocked and he breathed a deep and shaking breath of intense relief.

Caranfëa looked at Elméra and said, "you killed him."

"I am not a Kinslayer!" she screeched in emotional tumult.

Caranfëa shook his head and said, "you did what you had to and I am sure your friend there is grateful," he added with a look at Shaalth. The Elf was calming down and his wide eyes stared at the body of his tormenter.

Caranfëa suddenly spoke, "there is no time for wonders. We must hasten. Those orcs are over due to break through in one of the further rooms." Looking around the room, he saw the metal shod club that Calmir had been using to beat Shaalth within an inch of his life. "Ah, this will work for breaking your bonds. But first is first," he walked over to where Shaalth was and began to beat the rusty chain link that was attached to a steak in the ground, used as a pivot point to raise to unfortunate warrior off his feet.

"Hold him, Elméra," he commanded. She held the antagonized young Elf around his stomach in a tight holding, still trying not to hurt his ribs further. Caranfëa suddenly jumped back as the link snapped and Shaalth was cut free.

The chains had been wrapped around his wrist, mercilessly pinching the skin and so they slipped those off. With a sigh he breathed, "thank you." The maiden smiled and brushed the bloodied and sweat clumped hair from the fair face.

"You will be healed soon," she encouraged.

Caranfëa had Celebalda free and the captain rushed over to where his warrior was slumped backwards in Elméra's waning grip. Scooping the tortured Elf up he said, "you needn't walk. I will carry you."

Shaalth said, "sir, leave me. I will just slow you down."

"Shaalth, I order you to lie still and quiet," said Celebalda. He gazed at Caranfëa and Elméra, "where to now?"

"Out," said Caranfëa. "Glorfindel and Rothinzil are fetching Erestor, Estel and Legolas. We are to meet them out of here."

"How shall we if the grate is slammed shut?" he asked gruffly, not liking what he was hearing.

"We do not know," responded his son darkly. "We shall have to figure that out when we get there." He hid his broken wrist behind his back.

Then there was a bang and a series of hoarse and violent cries followed by more crashing. The orcs had broken through.

TBC…….Hmmmm…probably not wise to say this, but we were going to continue this chapter and then we thought, ah-ha! Evil cliffie! Review please? Good thing you guys don't know where we live. LOL We don't want any mobs with pitch forks and other random pointy objects. LOL Try explaining that one to Mom and Dad. LOL

Review responses:)

Leel 74: Well, not too much more ranger angst than whats has already been. Sorry, but our next fic will be more evenly distributed though biased this time towards our precious ranger. That may or may not be a comfort to you. Oh no! Not the Nazgul again! We had such a hard time creating evil cliffies last time. Sure, we can post on your Birthday, at least, as long as nothing comes up. Where do you live? Is it your parents' rule that you can't drive until seventeen? We are alould to get our permits at fifteen by law and then our actually liscinse at sixteen. Thanks for the review, good to have you back.

Deana: Yeah, Legolas has had it. Thanks for the nice review.

Astievia: You like our little Elfy? Aww...thats good to know. Well, rest assured, he will most certainly live. He has spent his whole life practically in the school of hard knocks so to speak, so he is well prepared. Gladyour horse back riding incident was not too horrible injury wise. Ouch. Yeah, I, Celeb, had a simular thing happen, only the bit broke and I didn't jump off. Thanks for the review.

Marie Delcore: Aragorny? Ummm...wonder what he thinks of that new name. -Looks down list of names for ranger- filthy human, ranger, Estel...Strider...ah...here we go, Aragorny. Another red-head fan! Yay! Thanks for the review.

Sindauviel: Interesting name, btw, we like it. Thanks for the review.

Shadowfaxgal: Hey that's fine. There is nothing to forgive! Thanks for the nice review.

Snow Glory: Win? Legolas? You know this is written by us so why expect that? Expect the unexpected as a rule. Yeah, everyone is having neardeath experiences at this point, we mostly everyone. Hehehehehehe -look over recent chapter- happy family...um...of course. We agree, he shouldn't hav become mortal, but there was that little dark-side that said yes, yes, yes...and we listened. Poor him. Yes, we imagine Tolkien did have that purpose in mind. Torturing helpless Mirkwood Elves...esp. a certain blonde one. LOL Thanks for the...unique review.