Many thanks to the following reviewers: Dragonfly, Vicki Turner, and Legosgurl.
Beta Reader: Dragonfly.

Chapter 70: Turn and Turn Again

Glorfindel strode into Elrond's private chamber without bothering to knock. Startled, Elrond looked up from the book he had been enjoying.

"Glorfindel! What is the matter?"

"Legolas' horse has just arrived riderless. Aye, and a second horse, too—Gilglîr's, I judge, for it has a very ornate headstall."

Elrond stood up hastily, alarm plainly to be seen upon his visage.

"Riderless! Glorfindel, can the steeds lead us back to their riders, do you think?"

"Aye, they refuse to enter the stables. It is clear that they are desirous that we should go to the aid of their masters."

"Then a search party must be assembled at once. Will you see to the marshaling of the necessary forces?"

"Most assuredly."

"I will ride out myself. Erestor can take charge in my absence."

Glorfindel inclined his head and strode from the room as rapidly as he had entered it. Less than an hour later, a company of Elves galloped from Rivendell, heading west. It included not only Glorfindel and Elrond but Elladan and Elrohir as well. The twin sons of Elrond had been appalled to learn that their foster-brother's horse had arrived without his rider.

"What could have befallen him on the road from Mithlond?" Elladan worried as they rode. "We look for dangers from the east and the south, not from the west."

"I do not think we can expect to find safety in any direction now," his brother replied. "The world is changing, and lands that have long seemed secure will soon be fraught with peril."

Miles away, Caranlass was painfully aware of this as she made her way as rapidly as possible back through the terrain over which she had been dragged by Orcs. 'I must have a care for the baby', she kept trying to remind herself, but that scarcely slowed her. Abruptly, however, she checked her pell-mell flight and listened intently. A look of hope passed over her face. 'Someone approaches', she said to herself, 'but his footfalls are very light. Dare I hope that he is an Elf?' Yet a troubled look suddenly replaced her joyful one. 'But if an Elf, why only one? Did all the others perish?'

She crouched down behind a bush to see who it was who came that way, and was relieved when, after a few minutes, Gilglîr stepped into view. Before she could hail him, he looked in her direction.

"Caranlass," he exclaimed, "you are alive. But what of Tathar?"

The elleth arose and came out from behind the bush.

"Tathar is alive, Gilglîr, but he is a captive. The Orcs may have mistaken him for Legolas and are taking him to their master. It seems they hope for some great award if they bring him alive."

"Legolas? But Legolas has golden hair whilst Tathar's hair is red."

"Yes, well, Orcs do not have much color-sense, seemingly. For that we should be grateful. But I fear lest their master be more discerning. The Orcs make for the Misty Mountains with all speed, and if they reach it they will vanish into one of the caverns that honeycomb those peaks. They will bring Tathar to their master, and if Tathar is of no use to him, no doubt he will have Tathar slain."

"Aye, but not until the Orcs have finished amusing themselves with him," muttered Gilglîr. At once the expression on Caranlass' face made him regret that he had uttered this thought aloud.

"I am sorry, Caranlass," he apologized. "I should not have spoken so."

She replied in a steady voice.

"You have merely said what I have been thinking. But enough talk! Haste is necessary."

"True! I encountered no perils as I came along. If you continue to back track, you will reach the East Road safely enough. As we speak Elves will be hastening upon in search of you. They will find you and convey you at once to Imladris."

"I will not be conveyed to Imladris," Caranlass declared firmly.

"Caranlass!"

"Let us not waste time arguing," the elleth continued. "I have already proven that I am capable of handling a bow. You are going to need help, and I can provide it. I assure you that in doing so I will take care not to put myself in any danger, for now another one's safety depends upon me. If need be, I will watch my husband die. But at least I will have tried, and at least he would not have died without my being near."

Gilglîr looked at her in amazement.

"You are carrying Tathar's child!"

"Why do you look so surprised?" she said coolly. "What did you think we have been doing off by ourselves? But, again, enough talk!"

As if Gilglîr had not already respected Caranlass enough, now he respected her even more. Without further word, they set forth in pursuit of the Orcs and their prisoner. Immediately, Gilglîr realized that Caranlass was right to insist upon accompanying him. With her by his side, he no longer had to cast about for the trail. Unerringly she retraced her steps, and they went on their way faster than Gilglîr had hitherto been able to do on his own.

The Orcs knew that there was a possibility that the escaped elleth would try to guide rescuers to them, but they never dreamed that she would do so with any great speed. Thus they had not yet troubled to move on after their feast of dismembered goblin. Besides, like many creatures, they were made lethargic by a large meal. Moreover, it was full daylight, and though they could travel under the sun, they preferred not to. And so, snoring, many sprawled about in the shade of bushes. Several, however, had been told off to keep watch over the prisoner. Being Orcs, they of course felt compelled to grumble with discontent at having been chosen as sentries.

"Stupid pointy-ear is tied foot'n'paw. Don' know why we gots ter watch 'im. He in't goin' nowhere nohows."

"Do ye s'pose," said another hopefully, "we could 'ave a leetle fun wit' 'im? Poke 'im wit' a stick, like?"

Tathar had taken the precaution of closing his eyes so that the Orcs might think he was sleeping. This action proved to be wise.

"Naw," said a third Orc, shaking his head. "If we wake 'im up, he might startle, like, and make a noise wot would wake up the Cap'n."

"We could gag ''im," suggested another helpfully. "That way he couldn' make no noise, no, not a peep."

At this point the Captain snorted, rolled over in his sleep, opened his eyes briefly to gaze upon the guards, and then rolled over again. The guards fell silent. Several minutes passed before one dared speak.

"Mebbe," he said nervously, "it'd be better ter play cards. Lessee 'ose got some."

A greasy deck was promptly produced and a game was soon underway.

A little while later, Gilglîr and Caranlass crept up to the encampment. Gilglîr had given Caranlass his bow, and he was armed with his sword. Together they studied the scene. To their relief, they saw that Tathar, although his eyes were closed, was still alive, else the Orcs would not have bothered keeping him in bonds. They were disappointed, however, to see so that a half-dozen or so Orcs seemed to be awake. With only one bow between them, there would be no way to fell all the guards quickly enough to eliminate the possibility that at least one would survive long enough to give the alarm. Had the number been fewer, Caranlass would have picked them off whilst Gilglîr slipped into the camp to cut Tathar's bonds. The three of them would then have slipped off before anyone had been aware.

"Perhaps," Caranlass suggested, "we could pick off the Orcs one by one as they leave their fellows to make water behind the trees."

"That would work were it not for one unfortunate fact," Gilglîr replied.

"What is that?"

"Orcs don't take the trouble to step aside to make water. They piss where they stand."

As if to prove Gilglîr's point, at that very moment one of the guards undid his leg coverings and sent a stream of water in the direction of Gilglîr and Caranlass' hiding place.

"Ugh," shuddered Caranlass, "and I thought an Orc's face was ugly enough."

"Yes," agreed Gilglîr, "it is well-known that there is nothing uglier than the head of an Orc—save the head of an Orc."

"Gilglîr!" Caranlass protested, although she was more amused than shocked.

"Oh, sorry," apologized Gilglîr. "When you've been off campaigning for awhile, you and your companions develop, well, an odd sort of humor."

"I should say so!"

The two returned their attention to the scene before them and pondered how to effect a rescue.

"Perhaps," suggested Caranlass, "we could pick them off as they travel. If we always felled the rearmost Orc, it might be awhile before any of them realized what we were about. It is to be hoped that before they do so, their numbers would have become more manageable."

Gilglîr considered this suggestion.

"Yes," he agreed. "I do believe that your plan may work."

The two settled down to wait until the Orcs broke camp. Come dusk, the goblins obliged.

"We're goin' to travel until dawn—no breaks!" proclaimed the Captain as he swaggered through the camp kicking sleeping Orcs into consciousness. His troops met this announcement with groans, but Gilglîr and Caranlass were delighted. The longer the Orcs continued without stopping, the longer their elven pursuers would be able to pick them off with little likelihood of discovery. When they stopped and were all gathered together, it was much more probable that the missing members would be noticed—or not noticed, as it were.

Tathar's legs were cut free, and he was yanked to his feet and thrust into the midst of the column of Orcs, which set off at once toward the east. In their wake stole Gilglîr and Caranlass, and it was not long before the elleth saw an opportunity to bring down a laggard. Aiming carefully, she released an arrow that struck her target at the base of his skull, and the Orc toppled forward without making a sound. His fellows, oblivious to his fate, marched on. From time to time the Captain glanced back, but he was satisfied to spy one or two Orcs immediately behind Tathar, for they were passing through a forest, and often trees blocked his view of the others. This did not escape the notice of Gilglîr and Caranlass as they scouted out the column. The next time Caranlass felled an Orc, Gilglîr stripped the body of both helmet and garments. Then Caranlass brought down another Orc and followed suit. Garbed as goblins, they continued to shadow their foes.

At last Caranlass had picked off all the Orcs that had stood between them and Tathar. They were now ready to make their move. They slipped into position behind the prisoner. The captain glanced back casually, spied nothing amiss, and turned his face back to the front. At once the Elves sprang forward, seized Tathar, and hustled him off to one side. Tathar made not a sound. Although the Orcs had been oblivious to the presence of the Elves who shadowed them, Tathar had not been. He had sensed their nearness; moreover, his keen hearing had heard the sounds of bow being drawn and arrow being released. He was not surprised at being rescued. He was, however, taken aback at finding Caranlass to be one of the rescuers. He knew, though, that this was no time to discuss the matter. They were going to have to run for it, he believed. The Orc captain had shrugged off the loss of one Elf; he would not be so complacent about the loss of the second. Gilglîr, though, had something in mind other than running.

"Let us shelter in trees," he suggested, "until the Orcs have discovered that Tathar is missing. They will pass by us heading southward once again; after, we will fall in behind them. Then we will not be pursued by Orcs but will be the pursuers!"

To Tathar and Caranlass, this plan seemed to be an excellent one. Each ascended a tree and waited for the Orcs to discover that the prisoner had vanished.

While Tathar and his liberators patiently hid within their arboreal haven, Galadriel was dismounting in front of Elrond's Hall. Alerted as to her approach, Erestor awaited her.

"My Lady, we were not expecting you!"

"Then why were you standing in front of the Hall?"

"I mean, word was sent to the Hall as soon as you were espied, but we had not known that you were contemplating a visit. I am afraid there has been no time to make elaborate preparations to receive you."

"Nor do I expect any. I am here as the grandmother of Elrond's children."

"I am sorry then, that, Elladan and Elrohir are not in Imladris at the moment."

"No matter. They will return soon enough. Meanwhile, please send word to Arwen that I am here. And would you also see to the preparation of two rooms in the House of Healing?"

Erestor understood at once—or thought he did.

"One chamber for Legolas and another for Gilglîr?"

"Yes and no. Gilglîr is uninjured."

"Someone else is injured?"

"No"

"Sick, then?"

"No."

Erestor was puzzled. If no one else was injured or ill, then what was the purpose in preparing a second room? Galadriel smiled. No conversation with the Lady of Lórien could be considered complete without an enigmatic utterance or two, and she had now furnished one. And Erestor was unlikely to hit upon its solution: childbearing was neither an injury nor a disease, but the skills of healers might nevertheless be called upon.

Legolas, however, would need the services of healers long before Caranlass would. Following Legolas and Gilglîr's steeds, Elrond, Glorfindel, and the twins were anxiously galloping west along the Great East Road. In the distance, they saw a party of riders approaching. They could not see that in the center of the party was borne a litter upon which Legolas lay sleeping. Where, then, was the Prince? Their anxiety renewed, they urged their horses on even faster.

As the Rivendell party neared the Mirkwood one, the horses of the latter parted, and Elrond and his companions espied the litter, with Edwen Nana standing beside it. Relieved, they slowed their long-suffering steeds to a canter. Coming up to the Mirkwood Elves, they hastily dismounted, and, dispensing with any formalities, Elrond went straight to Legolas' stretcher, which had now been placed upon the ground. He knelt down beside it and laid his hand upon the forehead of his foster-son.

"Legolas," he called softly. "Ion-nîn."

Legolas opened his eyes. "Ada," he said weakly.

Tears arose in Elrond's eyes. It had been long since Legolas had called him "Ada," for it had been long since Thranduil had reclaimed the young Mirkwood Elf as his own. Elrond tried to steel himself. He turned to Edwen Nana.

"How badly is he hurt?"

"I do not think that he has suffered a vital wound, but he is weak and weary."

"Infection?"

"No sign of it yet."

Elrond nodded.

"Good. Let us speedily convey him to Imladris so that he may recover in comfort and with the benefit of all the medicinal herbs and salves that are kept in that place."

Now that the Rivendell Elves had arrived, the Mirkwood Elves were desirous of riding back to the aid of Gilglîr, Tathar, and Caranlass. They knew that Elrond's folk would spare no effort to bring Legolas to a place of safety. Of the Mirkwood Elves, then, only Edwen Nana would continue at the side of Legolas. But of the Rivendell Elves, not all would be escorting Legolas. Glorfindel, Elladan, and Elrohir asked leave to accompany the Mirkwood Elves. Their kinsman had been attacked, and they would not let the insult go unanswered. Elrond, knowing the strength of their feelings, bestowed upon them both his permission and his blessing. For their part, the Mirkwood Elves were glad to be joined by three of the most famous warriors in Middle-earth.

Augmented by these redoubtable Rivendell Elves, the Mirkwood company galloped back toward the west. Traveling at a more sedate pace, Legolas' new escort made for Rivendell. And what of Gilglîr, Tathar, and Caranlass? Safely ensconced on tree limbs, they were looking down as Orcs scurried by, driven on by the curses of their captain, so furious as to be apoplectic. After the last Orc had passed, the Elves quietly descended from their hiding places and stealthily fell in behind their foes.