Chapter Eleven: The One the Wolves Pull Down

Legolas paused for breath in the corridor before the library, his heart banging against his ribs. He didn't want to think about what Nárvenien had said but her words hissed relentlessly through his mind.

Something terrible… terrible… something terrible is going to happen… You won't swim to shore…

It was late and Legolas felt suddenly exhausted after all of the excitement. The shortest way to his room cut through the library. But the young prince stopped short as he spotted a group of elves occupying the room. One of the elves glanced over at him and Ainan turned, smiling at his nephew and beckoning him over.

"Come in, Legolas!"

Obediently, the prince walked over feeling apprehensive as he bowed in welcome. The elves smiled down at him with rather odd expressions on their faces. Legolas returned the smile a little uneasily. All of these elves were unfamiliar to him. His uncle's friends, he supposed.

"Legolas, may I present- Alagosdhín, Arëar and Tindómëtir. They are honorable compatriots of mine who have traveled far with me and arrived yestereve." His uncle smiled. It was not altogether reassuring and Legolas felt distinctly uncomfortable in their presence. But he bowed dutifully as was expected of him.

"Elen sila lumenn' omentielvo, randirim (A star shines on the hour of our meeting, wanderers.)" The elves nodded wordlessly. To his surprise, he recognized Eraeriel, Nárvenien's mother, among them as well as she gave him a tight smile though it did not reach her cold eyes. He felt a chill crawl up his spine as he perceived Tindómëtir's burning eyes upon him. Ainan's grin faltered slightly as he gave the younger elf a gentle push towards the door.

"Go on now, little one. I shall see you later." One elf scrutinized the prince's back carefully as he swiftly disappeared from the room.

"You are sure the young one suspects nothing, Ainan?" he asked softly. The other elf's answering smile was the epitome of condescension as he crossed the room and hastily locked the door.

"Believe me, Tindómëtir, the boy knows nothing. I have him in my power now."

"Ever the charmer," Arëar put in.

"A snake charmer, if I recall correctly," Ainan retorted dryly but his smile had vanished. "Legolas is not your concern. If we may finally address the matter at hand?" Alagosdhín, who had remained silent until now, stepped forth.

"Of course, my lord…" Legolas stood outside the door for a long moment, listening. He heard his uncle's voice again.

"We must prepare for our triumph!" Ainan said, his eyes blazing. "After so many years of planning and effort! The culmination of so many shall finally be brought together." Legolas hadn't the faintest idea of what they were talking about but it sounded serious.

But as the voices continued to whisper inside the room, the words of the collusion within shook him to the very core of his being.

"Do you really wish to fight for the Kingdom for the rest of your immortal life, Ainan?" a voice demanded, musical indeed, but dark- a voice that masked deeds of evil. "There are many who are still loyal to Thranduil- civil war will tear the forest apart. There is only one solution to this."

"Such as?" Legolas heard his uncle's voice respond coolly.

"Simply make sure that Thranduil does not return."

There was a long silence within as though words long thought had been finally spoken aloud.

"Oh, for the day his blood will gush upon the stones!" a fervent voice hissed. Legolas barely recognized it as his uncle's. "We shall take back what is so rightfully ours at last!"

Murder… betrayal… his father! His heart sank in his breast as he realized that his uncle had used him- had been all along as a pawn. And he had fallen for it like a fool! All his secrets and all of his lies! Kept quiet because he thought he had been the only one who had to pay the price. Legolas gripped his hair in anguish, fighting back the tears that sprang to his eyes.

He had to warn his father and quickly! Bolting down the corridor, Legolas ran as fast as his legs would carry him.

Ainan turned towards the doorway as the subtle sound of elven footsteps faded away. He turned back to the suddenly silent group and smiled slightly.

"We may have to speed up our plans just a little, gentlemen," he said coolly.

"In your power, hmm?" Tindómëtir, who had also heard the soft footsteps, questioned scornfully. Ainan's eyes narrowed at the only dark-haired elf amongst them.

"Take heed in what you say. I shall take care of Legolas. You just make sure you do your job." The other elf smiled- almost a sneer.

"Be iest lin, hir-nin. (As you wish, my lord.)"

Without another word, the three elves glided like ghosts out of the room and into the corridor, vanishing into the darkness to do their ambition's bidding.

Ainan waited until he was sure that they were long gone before breathing a deep sigh. His shoulders slumped ever so slightly. Legolas, why did you linger? He questioned bitterly. Despite everything, Ainan truly did not wish to kill his sister's child… until it suited his plans at least. It was far too early. But now… did he have a choice?

Sighing again, Ainan left his wine goblet untasted on the table and swept out of the room, following the path his wayward nephew had taken.


The Elvenking frowned. Something was troubling his wife. He took her hand in his. She had been growing more quiet and distant as the weeks passed and often he found her sitting alone in a dark room, lost in thought. He supposed he had been somewhat neglectful to her for his duties had become ever more pressing and Ainan had been of little help.

"What is it, dearest?"

Anariel sighed and sank into a seat beside her husband, her fair face troubled. "I'll only be gone for a few days- you know I do it every year. You have never protested my going on the Great Hunt before."

"My heart has never so grievously misgiven me before now." Thranduil sat beside her again and took her into his arms.

"Now, now. What is truly troubling you?" She had been agitated ever since her brother had returned to the palace.

Thranduil had had his own misgivings about his brother-in-law and he wondered if his wife shared them though he knew she was loyal to her brother.

"Is it Ainan?" he guessed. She shook her head then nodded, wringing her hands anxiously.

"No… yes. Yes. Thranduil, he has always been terribly jealous of you. My brother is ambitious… He… I fear what he may do," she burst out. Thranduil chuckled and smiled reassuringly at his wife as he patted her hand.

"I am willing to make amends and forget the past. Give him a chance, darling. He may surprise you." He wanted to make her feel better, to show her that he was making an effort to accept her brother and give him another chance. This way, he reasoned, she would not feel so alone when he nodded slowly, her face reflecting her misgivings. There was a faint red mark on her cheek but Thranduil had not yet been given an answer for when he had asked her how she had received it. Thranduil kissed her reassuringly.

"Besides, you will be here to curb him and Legolas will help you if you ask him. I feel better leaving everything in your capable and lovely hands," he said, taking them in his strong ones and kissing them. "There now, dear. Do not trouble yourself." The Queen looked up at her lord and husband, her eyes glimmering with unshed tears.

"Be careful, darling."

"I will," he assured her as he stood and swung his midnight blue cloak about his shoulders and strapped his beautifully gilded quiver to his back. The Queen watched him and silently prayed for his safe return.


Legolas raced down the hall, his face flushed and legs aching. But he pushed himself onwards… his father had to be warned!

Not paying attention to where he was going, he did not see the elf until he ran into him and knocked him to the ground.

"Young prince? What is the matter?" a voice asked. Legolas blushed furiously as he rose and helped the elf to his feet. He looked up, recognizing him as one of the others who had accompanied Haldir from Lothlórien.

"I am terribly sorry, sir. I was in a bit of a hurry." The older elf smiled gently.

"I can see that. Where were you running too in such a hurry, if I may ask?" Legolas shifted impatiently. Every moment he wasted talking was one minute more his father went unwarned and unprotected.

"I have to find my father, sir. If you please excuse me-" Cálivien shook his head.

"He is not here, young prince. He left several hours ago to attend to some formal matter."

"He left?" Legolas asked dazedly. Cálivien nodded. "Where?"

"I cannot tell you where he has gone." Legolas nodded absently and without another word sprinted on down the corridor. The other elf watched him go, shaking his head in bemusement.

Cálivien walked away down the hall in silent thought. Something was deeply troubling the prince. That much was blatantly obvious. But what? He seemed bothered by the fact that his father was not in the palace. Could the king be in some sort of danger? Cálivien snorted and immediately dismissed that possibility. The King was far too well-protected. The charming woman he had spent the evening with had told him that the King participated on an annual hunt on such a night after the feast and his people had seen he and his huntsmen off. Cálivien shook his head again. There must be something else troubling the prince. Ah, to be young again with the frivolous cares of irresponsibility.

Immersed in his thoughts, he did not see the gleaming, silver-blue eyes that watched him as he passed.


The door to the King's chambers burst open with a bang and Tirien bowed in hasty apology as Thranduil jumped away from the door that had nearly struck him. Anariel leapt to her feet as well, her eyes wide in alarm.

"What is it, Tirien? Bursting into my chambers like a drunken troll..."

"My apologies, hir-nin. But, we-we found Telas, sire," the guard gasped, his eyes sorrowful and breath ragged from having run all the way. The King paled slightly as he stood, tossing his quiver onto the bed.

"Where?"


The torches flickered into life along the walls as the King strode briskly past. A group of elves already surrounded the small area at the far end of the hall, their faces white and horror-stricken in the dim light. Thranduil glanced at the pale face of a servant who looked as though she were about to faint.

"What happened here?" he asked softly. Tirien motioned him forward beside a large, colorful drape.

The bottom dropped out of the King's stomach as the falling of the tapestry revealed the tragedy behind it. Cunningly hidden behind the cloth was a crosshatch of gold over a narrow window sunk deep into the wall. It opened into a small alcove that allowed no room to move. Telas' pale face gazed out at them, his eyes vacant and horror-stricken.

They called to him but he made no move and did not respond to their calls. Another guard searching behind every tapestry down the length of the hall found a hidden crack between the intersecting corners at the far end of the room which was hidden by a great pillar and just large enough to squeeze through.

The King, Queen and their guards all listened to him fumbling through the wall. Telas shifted in his tiny prison and the guard's face came into view. His face was white with horror.

"It is a prison room, my lord," he addressed the King but Thranduil brushed aside the decorum.

"Telas, Tirien. Is he alive?" The guard shifted uncomfortably and reached his arm up with difficulty to check the other's vitals.

"Just barely, sir," came the slightly muffled reply. Thranduil breathed an audible sigh of relief and looked around the room again, catching sight of Telas' son, Serkë, standing near the cell, staring into the prison. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he spoke softly to his father. The King bowed his head in horror, unable to fathom how his friend had borne it- to have aid so close and be unable to call out.

The guards managed to free him and ease him back through the crack in the wall. Serkë ran forward and crouched at his father's head as they laid him carefully down on his back. He was unconscious but his eyes were open and horror-stricken. Suddenly, he blinked and looked up into his son's face and gave a muted cry of joy before the guard removed the red-colored cloth that had been roughly thrust into his mouth.

Thranduil allowed them a moment before touching his councilor on the shoulder, frowning at the dried blood clinging to the other elf's skin which was icy cold to the touch. His face was very thin and gaunt for his captors had given him just enough food to keep him alive- and barely that. His lips were cracked and parched- so much that they bled. His robes were filthy and torn in several places as though by raking blades and his wrists were chafed and bruised from the hours he had spent tugging fruitlessly at his chains.

"Can you tell us what happened?" Tirien asked hopefully, his brow creased in concern. But Telas shook his head and would not speak. Thranduil leaned forward and nodded encouragingly.

"Go on, Telas. Please, speak. Tell us what happened." Telas shook his head again, his eyes widening in horror. He opened his mouth but no sound issued forth. The Elvenking frowned uncomprehendingly then, realizing with a flash of clarity, he recoiled in horror.

The elf's tongue had been removed.

It was not that he would not speak.

He could not speak.

"Sir! There is a passage here!" a soldier said suddenly from behind the grate. He plucked a torch from inside the doorway and swept it towards the narrow corridor that receded into darkness. Thranduil shook his head.

"Not now- Telas needs looking after first," the King said, kneeling beside his friend's limp form.


"Kirar!" Legolas skidded to a stop before the lieutenant, of the royal guard surprised but relieved to see him. The older elf looked down at him with an implacable expression.

"Legolas, so there you are. Come with me." He seized the younger elf by the arm and began to tug him down the corridor.

"Wait, Kirar, I have to tell you something. My-"

"Later, Legolas," Kirar answered sharply, pulling him along. "Follow me now." The prince did not struggle but he trotted along at his elder's side, confused and bewildered and very frightened. He could not linger here! He had to do something! He tugged on the other elf's arm, trying to get his attention.

"Sir, you have to listen to me!" Kirar suddenly stopped and shook himself from Legolas' hold. He knelt beside the prince and took him by the upper arms.

"The wolves have encroached our borders, my prince. I cannot trouble your father or mother with it at this moment but I have summoned our group together and what other warriors I could find. We must find them tonight and discover their movements or we will all be in danger. It will be your first hunt, among others. But, I need your help now, young prince. Whatever you must tell me, must wait. Will you help me?"

Legolas nodded, unable to speak. Now, wolves? His stomach twisted with worry as he glanced back down the darkened corridors.

"Do you know where my father is, Kirar?" The lieutenant looked at him closely, seeming to guess some part of his thoughts for he smiled reassuringly.

"Do not worry, young one. Your father is fine." Legolas breathed a sigh of relief but he could not relax fully.

"I will help you then," he said at last. Kirar nodded.

"Good." And they were off down the corridor again, Legolas nearly running to keep up with his teacher who handed him a quiver and a dark wood bow both of which the prince slung quickly over his shoulder.

They eased down the darkened corridors which were empty and silent by now. As they swished through the long grass out on the parade ground, heading towards the dark trees that swayed in a biting wind, Legolas shivered. He glanced over the moon dappled ground but could see no sign of anyone else.

"Where is everyone, Kirar?" he asked, looking up at his teacher whose face was deeply shadowed as a cloud whisked across the moon.

"They have already gone on before us; I had to fetch you," answered he curtly.

Silence passed between them again as they crossed the stone bridge beneath which the frigid forest river flowed. Once on the other side, away from the palace, Kirar left the beaten path and pushed into the trees, sliding through the undergrowth with an economy of motion that only an elf could possess. Legolas followed after him just as silently, stepping carefully to avoid uplifted roots and grasping branches that waved like threatening fingers above him, as though warning him to go back. To stay away.

Legolas felt an uneasy prickling at the back of his neck as he strained his eyes, trying to pierce the gloom-shrouded night.

Mist curled up from the riverbanks, twining about their ankles and the tree trunks, making them ghostly shapes that loomed suddenly before them and disappeared into nothingness behind them. A skittering above them in the branches and both elves looked up. Swifter than sight, Kirar had an arrow to his bow, pointing upwards and Legolas had spun around with his half-drawn, his blue eyes wide as he stared wildly at the menacing trees.

Nothing.

They waited a long moment in tense silence then slowly, Kirar exhaled deeply and lowered his bow. Legolas glanced at him and moved closer. His elder was jumpy too. Water tinkled nearby and ripples sparkled in the intermittent times when the moon was not covered. Starlight gleamed upon the stream's mirror like surface. This was a small tributary of the larger forest river and it ran for a good several miles through the forest before curving back around through the trees and emptying into the river near Long Lake.

Kirar stood upon the bank for a long moment, casting about in the silt but for what Legolas wasn't sure. Legolas glanced around and stepped lightly across the river upon a makeshift bridge of stones that halted abruptly mid-river.

"I'll take a quick look about- see if I can find any signs of wolf passing or the others," Kirar informed him softly. Legolas nodded eagerly and leapt back across the river.

"I'll go with you."

"No!" Kirar said sharply, startling Legolas who halted abruptly. "No," Kirar said more calmly. "Just- just stay here. You don't want to end up in another mess like you did with the wolves." Legolas' eager face fell.

"You know about that?"

"Legolas," Kirar sighed with a somewhat apologetic air. "Everybody knows about that. Lucky Haldir was there to save you, hmm?" Legolas looked away with a shrug. Kirar smiled slightly. "Just wait here for me and don't wander off. Stay on this side of the river as well- it's safer." With that, the lieutenant backed into the brake and disappeared.

Legolas sighed deeply and returned his gaze to the river. He looked across the icy black water to the trees whose willow branches trailed like lazy fingers through the water and shivered, looking down instead. He shifted uncomfortably, glancing around at the dark trees that creaked in the wind. It must be a kind of test, he thought: to see if he could follow orders and stay in one place- even though it was the dead of night. In the forest.

To distract himself, Legolas peered down into the frosted river, watching the reflections of the moonlight idly play on the water. He leaned closer and peered in. A silvery fish swam there near the bottom. He watched it closely and reached out a hand to capture it.

A shadow fell across the moonlit water and the fish darted away.

Suddenly, Legolas felt icy hands clamp around his neck and thrust his head beneath the frothing river. The shocking cold struck him like a thousand pins and needles and he thrashed, struggling to raise his head up. Bubbles of panicked air rose from his mouth as he tried to breathe and sucked in only water. He flung himself from side to side, trying to break the monster's iron grip around his throat. Black spots began to dance before his eyes as the bubbles grew smaller.

Legolas felt something hard and cold touch his hand and he realized that it was Haldir's knife- he had forgotten to return it. Doing the only thing he could think of, Legolas desperately tried to unsheathe it but the blade snagged in his tunic and the cloth tore. Blindly slashing backwards, he cut at the hand that held him.

Through the water, Legolas heard a muffled yelp of pain and surprise.

Abruptly, the hands released him. Legolas surfaced like a dolphin, gasping for air and retching water from his lungs.

He was yanked cruelly up and tossed upon the shore like a caught fish. Legolas vomited more water from his lungs, coughing and choking as he inhaled precious, life-giving air. When he wiped the water from his eyes and looked up, he felt the cold fingers of terror clutch at his heart.

The dark elf, Tindómëtir, glared down at him, still standing in the shallows, a hand clutching the tear in his sleeve; blood, black in the dim light, seeped through his fingers where Legolas had landed the blow with his knife. Legolas frantically pushed himself backwards, trying to get away from the elf but his head still spun from lack of oxygen and he collapsed onto his back.

The other elf's face was inscrutable, eerily calm as he gazed down at the prince cowering against the earth.

"I told you before it is your only way out," he rasped quietly. "He will never stop." Legolas felt a chill run through him at those words but he could only stare up in wordless horror at the elf who had just tried to murder him.

Tindómëtir's head snapped sharply eastward though Legolas could hear nothing but the wind roaring among the trees. The vile elf leaned over the petrified prince, his face deathly pale and grim.

"Speak of this to anyone and I swear you have not yet known true torment. Your life will be so long and full of suffering that Mandos himself will be moved to pity," he vowed darkly. Legolas could only nod and cough more water from his lungs.

A frigid smile touched the elf's lips but did not reach anywhere near his eyes as he faded back into the shadows and vanished.

His wet hair plastered to his face, Legolas curled up, shaken but he leapt to his feet as the bushes rustled. He snatched Haldir's knife from the riverbank but relaxed slightly as Kirar emerged from the undergrowth like a moonlit shadow, his bow in hand and an arrow nocked. He seemed surprised to see the prince, looking up at him through the wet strands of his hair. There was something in the taller elf's eyes that made Legolas wonder- apology? Regret? It was there for an instant then gone.

"What did you fall in?" Kirar asked with a slight frown. Legolas merely nodded dumbly, wiping the water from his eyes.

"I nearly caught a fish." It was the only thing he could think of to say as he tucked the knife into his belt discreetly. Kirar nodded but Legolas could see the doubt in his eyes. The elder elf jerked his head eastward, back towards the palace.

"Come on. Let's get you back home and into dry clothes." Legolas nodded thankfully, gingerly touching his neck where he could still feel the dark elf's fingers. Kirar did not notice and set a quick pace back towards the palace.

The royal guard lieutenant walked the prince back towards his room but they both halted as the sound of voices reached their ears, high-pitched voices. Fearful voices. Kirar frowned deeply, his green eyes narrowed at the flickering torches and low, troubled sounds. He caught a few snatched words and bit his lip.

"Legolas, get yourself to bed." The prince looked up at his elder, whose face had gone suddenly pale.

"What is it, Kirar?" he asked.

"Go, I say," the elf answered sharply, giving him a shove in the right direction as he stalked off in the other.

Legolas paused for an uncertain moment but he could not go to his rooms. He was wide awake now. Something was very wrong. He could feel it.

Padding down the corridor as softly as a cat, he retraced Kirar's footsteps down the corridor. After a moment of walking through pools of darkness and alternate light between the torches that marched on down the hall, Legolas caught a glimpse of his quarry. Kirar strode briskly down the hall, half-running. Legolas had to jog to keep up with him while still trying to be silent but Kirar didn't seem to be paying attention to anything behind him.

The stone passage quickly widened and flickering orange light made him blink as he paused at the entrance to a vast room, which Legolas recognized as the dining hall. There were people there that the young elf thought odd for everyone had departed from the feast long ago.

He saw his father there, and several guards, Serkë who stood beside something dark sprawled limply upon the floor. Legolas narrowed his eyes against the darkness but he dared go no closer and the torchlight did not reach the deep well of shade across the room. He knew he ought to tell his father about the collusion but he felt that perhaps this wasn't the best of times. He pricked up his ears as a voice spoke.

"How did this happen?" A voice hissed and Legolas recognized it as Kirar's as he knelt beside the shadowy something upon the floor.

"We don't know. He needs help- badly. The foul orc-sired cur who did this cut out his tongue," Tirien replied, his face ghost-white in the torch's luminescence.

Legolas swallowed hard, feeling suddenly sick. Who was it lying on the floor? Were they dead? He found himself leaning forwards, straining to catch the next words.

"Thranduil, why was I not summoned immediately?" a voice rapped out, sounding irritated. Legolas shrank back into the shadows at the sound of his uncle's feared tones.

Ainan strode into the room, his golden hair whirling about his face and a silver robe wrapped about his slender figure. He stopped and stared down at the limp form of Telas, his expression unreadable.

"Is he dead?"

"Nearly, my lord," Tirien answered. A look passed between Kirar and Ainan that Legolas did not catch. Thranduil shot a sharp glance at his brother-in-law and caught sight of the figure standing in the shadows behind him.

"Legolas, what are you doing out here?" The prince jerked, surprised and startled to find his father, Ainan and Kirar staring at him. He shifted uncomfortably, embarrassed as he walked guilty towards them.

"I-I'm sorry, I just-" But Thranduil shook his head and quickly stepped around the stretcher, shielding it from his son's view as he took Legolas firmly by the shoulders and steered him away. Then he noticed that his son was sopping wet and dripping all over the floor.

"Why are you all wet, Legolas?" The prince swiped his soaking hair out of his eyes, glancing sheepishly at the growing puddle beneath his boots.

"I was out in the forest, Ada."

"What on earth where you doing out there in the middle of the night?" Legolas looked up, surprised that his father hadn't known about the wolves.

"I fell in the river while we were hunting-"

"Hunting?" Thranduil asked. Legolas nodded, becoming more puzzled than ever by the fact that his father had not known.

"Yes, Kirar said-" Kirar looked studiously elsewhere as Thranduil glanced at him.

"Well, never you mind about that now. Go to bed, little one, please. I'll explain in the morning."

"What happened Ada?" Legolas asked. Thranduil froze.

"I… I don't know, Legolas. That's what I'm trying to find out. You try to go to sleep all right? You look tired."

"I shall take him, muindor," Ainan said in a suddenly businesslike manner, coming up behind the King. Thranduil paused.

"I could use you here, Ainan," he said softly.

Ainan turned his back to Legolas towards the King, their heads bent close so the young elf could only catch snatches of their words.

"This is not the time…we need…"

"… you want…"

"Why can't you…?"

Legolas waited, half in fear, wondering if he should escape to his room right now but decided to stay as he peered around his father's form at the makeshift stretcher lying on the floor. Thranduil sighed and nodded briskly to Tirien and Kirar who hefted the stretcher and hurried off down the corridor towards the healer's wing. Other household servants who had been standing watchfully by followed them.

"Khile nin, Legolas, (Follow me, Legolas,)" Ainan commanded softly, a hand on his nephew's shoulder.

"Ainan," Thranduil called after him. Legolas tensed as the other elf turned.

The prince looked at the two- brothers in name only, he knew. They were so very different now. Ainan's face was watchful, guarded. Thranduil's haggard and worried. Legolas thought he looked very much alone standing in the middle of that great hall. But his back was straight and firm as he looked his brother-in-law in the eye.

"I would speak with you later."

Ainan smiled.

"Of course, hir-nin."

With an arm draped amiably about Legolas' shoulders, he led the way out of the hall and down the dark corridors.