Chapter Nineteen: Plans and Preparations

Legolas ran until he could run no more. His legs buckled beneath him and he tumbled to the ground, shaking against the bole of a large beech tree that overhung the river. He had traveled maybe two leagues in the last three hours, stumbling in the cold and dark of early morning. Dawn was not far away now and the first slivers of white light heralding the sun tinged the treetops' branches gilded with frosted dew. A cold, damp mist hung over the river. Gradually, his fear of discovery roused him once more and he forced himself up onto trembling legs.

Following the narrow path that paralleled the river, he traveled on a mile more, stooping only once to slake his thirst in the ice-encrusted river. The water was so cold it seized up his throat and hit his stomach as though he'd swallowed a fistful of snow. But at the very least his thirst was slaked.

Then he realized that he was hungry- he had not had time to pack a waterskin or even a loaf of bread and he had nothing to hunt with anyway. Though the cold did not trouble him greatly yet- he knew that even his elven body could not resist everything for long periods of time without his cloak. He had no idea how long he would be out here and his wounds hurt worse than ever now with the cold seeping into his aching bones.

He would probably be searched for on the main road- not on this little deer path. Though Legolas knew he should leave the river- he dared not for fear of losing his way. He was not yet beyond his father's lands but the border guards were situated more to the south nearer to the menace of Dol Guldor rather than Laketown. Legolas wondered if he could walk far enough to reach that land of Men.

The full moon gleamed softly upon the white-shrouded world. Silent. Calm. Legolas' golden hair shimmered under the white light as he watched the soft glow of the beautiful moon on the smooth snow and the play of the spindly branches in the southern wind. The floodplain stretched out below him, level and straight, receding into the wide, dark land before it was lost in a haze at the edges of his sight. And Legolas again felt the sharp pang of loneliness pierce him like a knife.

He couldn't do this… maybe he should go back… Legolas actually stopped and glanced over his shoulder downriver where the sight of the palace had been long lost by a curve in the stream. He shook his head; there was no way he could return now. His uncle would surely kill him.

Casting aside such dark doubt and fear by sheer force of will, the young prince pushed recklessly on into the woods, leaping snowdrifts and vanishing quickly into the mist.


The red sun broke the tops of the trees and illuminated the waving branches with a rosy glow. A light snow lay upon the ground though it would become deeper the further they traveled into the forest. Above the fiery orb of the sun, dark clouds hung in a hazy sky. The black river was shrouded with mists curling up along its banks as the bared trees creaked over it.

Haldir watched the late winter sun wash the black marble stones around him amber. Despite the beauty around him, his heart was heavy. Despairingly, he hung his head: he should never have left Legolas alone! He struck his fist against the marble pillar he leaned against in frustration and self-loathing- which only succeeded in hurting his hand.

He brushed a hand across his tired, aching eyes. Neither he nor the Queen had slept last night when they realized Legolas had vanished. Neither hide nor hair of him could be discovered and Haldir's stomach twisted into knots as he thought of everything and anything that could have happened to the young prince in the time he had been missing.

What if it happened again? And he would find another barrel with Legolas inside… Haldir shuddered inwardly; it did not bear thinking about; he would drive himself mad with the what-if's and whyfor's. But his own thoughts would not be silenced and each clamored louder than the other: why was he still waiting? What for? Why was he not hunting down that foul serpent that served as a 'King' and demand an answer from him?

The fact was, there was very little he could actually do. They were already treading a thinning line and should Ainan suspect any threat, he could take immediate and deadly action. They could not afford that if there was still a slim chance that Legolas might be alive.

His brooding thoughts were interrupted as the sound of a soft footstep reached his ear. Haldir turned quickly, every muscle tense and rigid.

Serkë jumped as the elf whirled towards him and backed away nervously. Telas' son and new councilor to the King, looked rather out of place out of doors. He looked like the kind of elf who spent his long hours in a study scribbling figures in a leather tome or in a wing backed armchair in the library.

When Haldir showed no signs of attacking him, he stepped forward slowly.

"I-I wanted to speak with you- briefly."

Haldir nodded for him to continue. Serkë twitched again and licked his lips, his eyes darting around the courtyard.

"They say you are traitors…of a witch's realm," he began, his voice trembling ever so slightly.

"You mean that is what Ainan has told you," Haldir answered coolly, his eyes narrowing. Serkë stepped back a pace to put more distance between the taller elf and himself. For a moment, he appraised the elf captain as though sizing him up and an oddly shrewd look passed over his face. Haldir quickly grew impatient with the other's staring.

"I trust you have more important things to do than to tell me that?" he prompted.

At that, the councilor shook himself from his reverie and stepped in closer.

"You need to find him quickly," Serkë said softly, with a hasty glance around the courtyard as though he feared listening ears. "I fear the worst."

Haldir looked at the elf, feeling a thrum of fear shoot through his veins. Something about the way he had spoken made the Lórien commander edgy. How did this elf know of their search?

"What do you mean?"

Serkë shifted uncomfortably again, wringing the long sleeves of his robes.

"Certain… certain goings-on have been occurring. The King… the prince," his face darkened and a look of pain passed across his face. "My father…"

Haldir nodded sympathetically.

"I am sorry for your loss."

The councilor waved it away with a flick of his hand as though he had heard those words far too many times already. He wrung his hands again.

"I should not be seen speaking with you," His eyes narrowed slightly. "And I do not know if you are the one I would trust with so grave an errand but…"

Haldir wondered what that meant and frowned slightly but the councilor rattled on as though desperate to release the words he had kept inside for so long before he lost the last shreds of his courage.

"You must find the prince. That is of the uttermost importance."

"Do you know where he is?" Haldir demanded, eagerly stepping towards the elf.

Serkë shook his head, backing swiftly away.

"No. But King Ainan will have my head if I am seen conversing with you."

"He is no king- that traitor is nothing but a malefactor," Haldir countered angrily.

"Shhh! Speak not so loudly!" the councilor entreated with another nervous glance around the still halls. "I will say no more."

Still shaking with anger and frustration, Haldir watched him retreat back into the dark halls and vanish. With a sigh, Haldir felt his anger drain away to confusion as he leaned his head back against the pillar. That had provided no answers only more unanswerable questions!

How many more would he discover with hidden agendas and dark secrets unearthed? His eyes darted up towards the arched walls of the palace rearing sharply over his head. What unseen eyes watched them from those high windows? Guarding their every move, calculating their every step before they even made it?


If anything happens to my child, Ainan, you will pay for it! Anariel vowed silently as she stalked through the halls of her home. She didn't care that he was the so-called King, her brother. She held no one above reproach when it came to the safety of her child; Ainan could press her for only so long, she could only take so much. All fear and shame had to be forced aside.

It didn't matter what he would do to her only so long as she found out where Legolas was.

Trying to walk at a moderately sedate pace in face of her anxiety, the Queen of Mirkwood searched fruitlessly for her brother and finally found him in the library, surrounded by several of his people. All looked up as the Queen stood before them, her long golden hair thrown back, her fists clenched at her sidesin a clear state of agitation.

"Out!" she fairly barked and at a quick glance and curt nod from their master, the other elves made their departure, leaving brother and sister alone.

"What is the meaning of this intrusion?" Ainan requested coolly, looking her up and down with what seemed mild curiosity.

Anariel rounded furiously on him.

"Where is my son?" she demanded.

"Oh, that." Ainan sniffed dismissively, facing his back to her. She gripped his arm painfully tight and wrenched him around to face her. He hid his surprise at this insurrection well and easily disentangled himself from her grip.

"Such a temper this early, dear sister? I have not seen you in such a state in a long while," he smiled, gently mocking. But she was in mood for games.

"Tell me where he is, son of a serpent or I shall kill you here and now!" she hissed, staring fearlessly up into his eyes. She didn't care anymore- her son was in danger! Ainan's eyes narrowed.

"Kill me?" he sneered. "You couldn't lift a finger against me when we were mere children. What makes you think you can do so now?"

Without a word, she drew her hand back and struck him across the face with all of the strength that years of pain, grief, humiliation and helpless rage had built up inside of her. His head snapped violently to one side even as he stumbled backwards in shock and amazement, a pale hand to his cheek.

"How dare you!" he spat, glancing at the blood on his fingertips.

"I dared, Ainan," she rejoined with a defiant toss of her head. "And it took me over four hundred years to do so. But you are no longer in control- of me or the kingdom. It is slipping through your fingers faster than you can grasp it."

"I am the King," he bellowed, his face twisted with desperate rage. "I am in control and no other!"

Like a viper, he darted forward and seized her by the throat, nearly lifting her off her feet as he slammed her against the wall viciously. Reflexively, her small hands clenched around his wrist tightly, trying to wrest his grip from her but he was far too strong. Her vision swam with black dots as she strove to draw breath into her empty lungs.

Realizing he was close to killing her, Ainan eased his hold.

Anariel inhaled violently and sprawled at the wall's foot with her own white hand to her bruised neck, massaging the tender flesh.

"As it happens I have no idea where your brat is- I have not seen him since yestereve," Ainan snorted carelessly, as though nothing had happened.

"You beast," she threw back at him, her eyes shining with furious tears.

He ignored her and walked away, his thoughts churning, Legolas was gone? Ainan blinked, genuinely confused as he tried to gather his thoughts. Then as realization sank in his brow darkened. The little urchin had decided to run!

His heart burning with furious anger, he stalked towards the throne room where his captains awaited him. All three of them looked up sharply as the doors flew open to admit their master, wild-eyed and in a towering temper.

"Well?" he snapped when none spoke. "What have you to say for yourselves?"

"Sire, the Lórien traitors are nowhere to be found- we have searched all of their rooms and the gardens. None of the servants have seen them since yestereve."

For a moment, Ainan looked downright murderous and the others stepped back before his wrath. But just as quickly as the storm had come, it abated and he smiled- almost benignly at his servants.

They shivered.

"Well, it seems all is not lost after all."

The self-proclaimed king swept past them and seated himself upon the grand, finely carved throne onthe white marble dais, seemingly unperturbed by the knowledge that both of his quarries had disappeared in the same evening. He laid his hands on the ornate arms, his midnight blue sleeves sweeping the sides.

With an arrogant snap of his fingers, he commanded Tindómëtir to his side.

"Our prince has been kidnapped by the Lórien traitors- I want them found!" he rapped out, his silver-blue eyes flashing.

As Kirar and his fellow soldiers bowed and quickly quit the room, Ainan smirked privately and turned to his servant.

"So, Legolas has tried to undo us by running. We shall have to teach him otherwise, eh?" So saying, he elbowed the stoic elf beside him in the ribs with a cruel chuckle. Finding him unresponsive, Ainan sighed and glanced back at him in mock-despair.

"Really, you are dull." With a sad shake of his head, his demeanor abruptly changed to seriousness again. "What have you to say for your incompetence?"

Tindómëtir did not move at the insult, seemed hardly to register it but for a dark flicker in his eyes as he rounded the dais to stand before his lord.

"They know, hir-nin (my lord). The Lórien 'traitors' discovered the burnt corpse of their companion and have discovered our other… agenda."

"Such as?" Ainan asked, leaning forward with interest for the first time that morning.

"The prisoners," Tindómëtir answered simply. Ainan brushed a hand across his face, his gaze cast to the marble floor in thought as he laid a beringed finger against his upper lip.

"And my sister knows too- at least in part- I shall have to wring her further to find out what else she has hidden from me. But until then…" He rose from his seat and turned towards his subordinate.

"Find them- all of them. If Legolas has indeed vanished then he must be returned. Unharmed," he emphasized, lifting a warning finger at the dark-haired elf. "It will not do for the elven people to lose their beloved king and prince in so short a time. They will ask questions. Questions we do not want to have to answer. Is that clear?"

"Yes, my lord," Tindómëtir responded dutifully, his face still utterly without expression.

"As for the emissaries of Lothlórien…" Ainan said almost casually as he began to walk away, examining the wide tapestry before him expressively-a wide battleground where a brightly armored host of elves stood before black hordes of orcs and all manners of evil creatures of war.

"They are undoubtedly aiding in the search. Find the prince before they do or it will be your head I will have instead of theirs." He spoke so negligently, as though he were discussing the weather rather than threatening someone's life. He tapped his temple knowledgably with a wicked smile.

"Remove the head and the snake ceases to wriggle- bring their leader to me. Alive."

"Kill the others."

The dark-haired elf bowed to his master and followed on the heels of Kirar's guard.


"There was no lie in his eyes," Anariel explained as she shook her head. "He didn't know…" Her eyes clouded over with grief and she shook her head again to clear it. Her mother's heart was breaking: she had been so blind!

"Where else could he be?" Haldir asked, running a hand through his hair absently. "He couldn't-"

"He ran away," a voice said.

Both elves spun towards the voice to see a red-haired elf woman watching them from underneath one of the arches on the side porch. Haldir frowned in puzzlement, searching back in his memory for this woman's name.

"Nárvenien, is it not?" he asked cautiously. At her nod of agreement, he continued. "Since you seem to know whom we speak of- do you know where Legolas is?"

The woman did not turn and her lips barely moved as she spoke, as though she didn't want to be overhead; the two leaned forward to catch her words as she answered.

"He ran away- I saw him last night. He went into the forest."

She pointed off into the blue distance along the black river, moving west along the river. Anariel and Haldir stared at her in astonishment as she abruptly sauntered away and disappeared down the hall.

For a moment, they stood there, rooted in shock and confused.

"Does she speak the truth?" Anariel asked hesitantly, knowing the cold noblewoman's daughter better than most as the one her son most often quarreled with.

"It is a starting point," Haldir said, not quite agreeing. Anariel looked away thoughtfully and the elf captain, divining her thought, nodded.

"Be assured I will immediately search for him, lady. But, if I may-" He waited for her encouraging nod. "We could use reinforcements- why not ask Tirien and his guard to aid us?" he asked, naming the commander of the Mirkwood barracks. The Queen's shadowed eyes hardened.

"Tirien has been strangely absent for days," she said softly, her brow furrowing. "I fear that I have too often placed my trust in my soldiers- and now my son and husband are missing. There is no one left to turn to," she explained shortly. Haldir nodded, accepting without question as he too had been beginning to wonder at the loyalty of the guards as Ainan's power increased.

"I need to find my son, Captain," She recalled his attention. "Will you help me?"

"We shall do what we can," he answered immediately with a curt nod of his head. His brow furrowed slightly as he glanced at the ring of bruises he could just see beneath the high collar brocade of her lace gown.

"Will you be all right?" he asked in a low voice. He could not help feel that he had a duty to this woman who was the only person left to fully oppose Ainan. Anariel gave him a tight smile in answer.

"Find my son, Captain. That is all I ask of you."

Haldir glanced up at the sound of the soft clomps of heavy hooves on the hard-packed earth. Ancadal came, weaving his way back from the stables, leading their horses. Haldir's own bay stallion was among them. Rameil's handsome black neighed and strained against her halter, lightly swiping Ancadal's grey, slender-limbed mare.

They didn't know how long they were going to be gone and needed to pack lightly but enough for a longer journey- should it be longer than they expected. He glanced towards Rameil who was tucking a spare cloak into his saddlebag. Ancadal was counting his arrows for the third time that morning; it was clear the younger elf felt the tension as well and longed for a fight out in the open.

Anariel stood upon the porch steps to see them off, her eyes darting around the empty courtyard, ensuring no one watched them from the high windows.

The first faint light of dawn washed the sky and glimmered upon the palace's emerald glass windows. Slowly the sun retreated behind a sea of dark grey clouds as it rose into the sky; Anariel would wait no longer than that. She stood grimly on the marble stairs, glancing around to make absolutely certain that no other eyes watched them but her own. This was to be a clandestine venture for as long as it could possibly be. The horses were saddled and waiting, preparations had been made. They dared wait no longer to depart.

Haldir looked up at her solemnly, hollow-eyed from lack of sleep and slumped slightly in the saddle as though pressed by the weight of many cares. But his eyes swore to her that he would bring her son home. Before Ainan did. They knew that there was no way of telling whom they could trust anymore. Anyone could be an enemy.

They had to be very careful.

"Sir! Haldir, sir!"

Haldir turned at the sound of his name.

Rinniad was running towards him. Haldir faced the young elf as Rinniad skidded to a stop before him. The elf's light hair was disheveled and he had slung his bow haphazardly over one shoulder with his quiver dangling from the other. Haldir looked him up and down in surprise.

"Rinniad, what?"

"You're looking for Legolas aren't you?" he asked. "That's where you're going isn't it? I want to go with you," the young elf asserted blatantly before the other elf could finish his question. At Haldir's disapproving frown, he rattled on.

"Legolas and Lóthmir are my friends," he said obstinately. "I have to look for them. You've done nothing to help them!"

Haldir looked down at the youthful soldier; he understood Rinniad's fury and helplessness but it would not help them find Legolas or Lothmir. With a sideways glance at the Queen, Haldir dismounted and looked solemnly down at him.

"I know you're afraid for your friends- but we are doing something to help them now. We can't have you going missing as well."

Rinniad's face fell but Haldir raised a hand to deny any protestations.

"I have a special charge for you. I want you to protect the Queen, Rinniad," he said sternly. "I convey this charge on you, all right? It is your sworn duty to protect her. If there is trouble, find someone you can trust- but tell no one of your errand or where we have gone, is that clear?"

Still looking slightly mutinous, the young one snapped a sharp salute and nodded dutifully as he walked to take his place at the Queen's side. His eyes were filled with worry and fear for his friends as he looked up at the elf captain.

"Please, find them," he pleaded.

The elf captain nodded gravely as he vaulted into the saddle and urged his horse into a quick trot towards the river, careful not to look back as he went.

Despite the imminent danger, he felt almost glad to be gone from the palace. Gladly would he face the overt dangers of wolf and spider rather than death by unseen knife between his ribs while he slept.

Shaking himself from such gloomy thoughts, he looked up at the cheerless landscape stretched out before him.

On their right, the river rolled steadily onward, its sluggish near-black waters sweeping past the banks at a great rate. Several overhanging boughs trailed their long spindly fingers in it. Through the bare branches, they could just see a gleam of cold sky, pale powdery blue tinged with the blood red of dawn. Away on their right, the forest stretched away, darkness prevailing between the trunks and spiraling in the shadowy hollows. Snow lay like a thick wet carpet over the age-old leaves.

Haldir dismounted and glanced around at the smooth snowy ground. There were minute signs, but very faint and already hours old. He looked up, following the deer trail with his eyes.

Legolas had come this way.

The group traveled onward, ignoring the biting chill of the wind and the snow that whipped up into their faces and crept past their collars down the backs of their necks.

Haldir checked his horse sharply, his eyes narrowed against the stinging wind as he leaned slightly forward, the breeze cutting through his hair as his hood slipped from his head. He motioned for the others to stay back as he maneuvered his horse a little closer to the riverbank.

Something lay stretched and pale at the bottom of the bank. Thickets of brambles and snow laden nettles crawled over the silt-encrusted shore as the elf captain, leaving his horse, searched for a path through the brush to the waterside. The dismal light was grey and dark underneath the tress boughs but he swore he saw a glimmer of gold on the river stones.

Whatever it was, it lay very still in the shallows.

Half-praying that it was Legolas, and the other half praying it wasn't, Haldir disregarded pain and shoved through the brambles, ignoring the long thorns that gouged bloody scratches into his arms and hands. The pale thing lay upon the bank and as he moved closer, he realized that the long golden tendrils floating limply in the river's current were strands of matted hair.

It was an elf.

Haldir knelt beside the body, but was reticent to touch it, half-disgusted and sorely troubled. Summoning his courage, he reached forward and felt for a pulse of life in the ice cold form. There was nothing. Biting his lip until he nearly drew blood, Haldir eased his hands under the stiff corpse and with a muffled oath and prayer, rolled it onto its back. He immediately pulled back with an alarmed start and closed his eyes, nearly gagging.

He had found Telas' body.

The frayed remnant of a rope hung about his bloated neck, a large bruise encircling it indicating that the cord had been weighted with a heavy stone to drag the body to the bottom of the river. So that is what had become of the councilor… His mottled grey flesh had decayed horrendously in the water and Haldir, not looking too closely, caught a glimpse of something dark at the corners of his mouth: blood or something more horrendous. There were certain types of poisons that caused the victim extreme agony until they literally bled to death from the inside out. His end had been cruel indeed.

Haldir stood on shaking legs and hesitated, wondering what he should do. He didn't feel quite right leaving the body here in such a state. Nudging it gently with the toe of his boot, he pushed it back into the river where it bobbed like a grisly cork before submerging a little and sweeping along out of sight with the current.