Chapter Twenty-Nine: Never Sleep Never Die

Haldir sighed aggravatedly, tugging the corners of the cloak tighter about his form as he shifted uncomfortably on the hard stone. Strips of dried venison and water had been provided them as they huddled in a dark corner but the waiting was worse than the hollow pit of hunger in his stomach. This was taking too long! He thought furiously, glancing over at the heatedly debating group. The border guardians were confused and frightened, finding that their home had been invaded in their absence, eager to seek out kindred and wives, sons, daughters to ensure their safety.

There was no time.

The words drifted in and out of his hearing as he wavered somewhere between sleeping and waking. The exhaustion had rushed in after the adrenaline, leaving his body cold and heavy. Dimly, he heard the soft arguments a few feet away which Rameil did his best to parry.

"Where is the Queen?"

"Who gave you the authority over us?"

"What is going on?"

Every so often, if Haldir chanced to look up, he would see a furtive glance in his direction, mingled wonder and horror in astonished eyes. The guardians had been given only the bare bones about what had happened to their monarchs, their families, their lives.

He sighed again and glanced over at Legolas who sat near him, his head cast down in deeply troubled thought. He too was anxious to find his father and his friend if indeed they still lived. Ainan had said when he had 'dealt' with the King… what did that mean? He shuddered to think.

Haldir rose slowly to his feet; his legs trembled but thankfully held him. However, his back felt as though every nerve was on fire and every cut poured burning agony but he could not sit still anymore.

Legolas looked up at him but quickly dropped his eyes, swiping a strand of loose, matted hair out of his eyes. Haldir felt badly for he had not spoken to the young elf since they had been freed from their imprisonment; too much had happened and he was still trying to absorb it all. He did care for him deeply and prayed that whatever happened tonight, Legolas would live and remain safe from his uncle's hands.

Casting another nervous glance around the dark hidden cavern they had cloistered themselves in for the meantime, he saw Ancadal striding towards him with a softly burning lantern swinging from one hand, a half-eaten hunk of bread in the other. He set the lantern down beside Legolas with a smile and straightened, turning to his friend.

Haldir hastily averted his gaze, afraid what the other elf would see in his eyes. He was grateful for the cloak and the semi-darkness that hindered the elves' full sight of his bruised and torn body. He had no intention of explaining his new set of welts and bruises to his friends. Not yet at least.

"What news?" he asked.

Ancadal shook his head with a disgusted snort; he, too, was very anxious but the guards stubbornly refused to move without the word of their Queen. The young elf of Lórien was worried- Anariel had said she would meet them long ago and she had not yet reappeared.

What if something had happened to her? What were they to do?

"Someone has to take charge. They won't listen," he said, shrugging his shoulders hopelessly.

Haldir glanced over at the gathered elves, many were talking among themselves and Rameil stood, fending off the questions of more. He noticed that one stood taller than the rest and his tunic was more richly embroidered than the others. An officer of some sort, he guessed, making his way over to him.

"Sir," Haldir addressed him. "We cannot linger here. Your Kingdom is in the gravest danger." There was no time to soften the blow; he had to be blunt.

The elf appraised him silently. The border guards had heard of Ainan's lies about the elves of Lothlórien and his eyes were narrowed with suspicion. But Sarithan had not trusted the Queen's brother since he had first arrived three years ago and he would make his judgments for himself. Sarithan nodded for him to continue.

"So we have heard. But what can we do? Where is Her Majesty?"

"I do not know," Haldir answered truthfully. "But we cannot wait for her. There are prisoners near here that need our help- your captain of the Royal Guard is one of them."

"Why were they imprisoned?" Sarithan demanded, outrage clear on his face. Tirien was a good friend of his.

"For doing their duties to their people and their King. For fighting against a tyrant who will stain the very palace itself with spilt blood if we do not make haste," Haldir answered evenly. "We must waste no time and free them."

Sarithan gazed at him a moment longer than turned abruptly to his troops. With a word, he silenced them then turned back to Haldir with an encouraging nod, a hard glitter in his eyes.

"Tell us what we must do."


"Beyond all hope we meet again," Tirien greeted him through the bars of his cell. He certainly looked the worse for wear, scourged and beaten but a light kindled in his eyes as Rameil unlocked his cell door.

"They would have killed us," the elven guard whispered, staring up at him with unspeakable relief. Anyone was better than Ainan and the dark one that followed at his heels.

Rameil felt his heart clench with pity for these poor souls as he examined the iron staples that held the chains to the wall. Drawing his knife, he jammed it between the stone and the iron link and tugged and wrestled with it for many long minutes, slowly clawing at the tough mortar until he nearly snapped the tip off his blade. Sarithan, walking in beside him, aided him on the other side. Finally they loosened it just enough. Sheathing their knives again, the dark-haired elf grasped the chain firmly, set his foot to the wall and yanked back hard with Sarithan tugging on the other side.

The chains tore free from the wall with a scraping clunk and both staggered backwards, the length of iron swinging from his hands. They dropped the heavy fetters to the floor and Sarithan offered the guard captain a hand which was gladly taken.

From then on, they worked as quickly as possible, spreading rapidly to the other cell. Rameil's fingers were sore and aching from prying loose mortar and stone by the time they were done but thankfully they had not been discovered yet. They still had a bit of time though he keenly felt the minutes slipping away.

The long-enclosed prisoners blinked heavily as ones awakened from a dream to find that the sun is shining brightly. They were more than ready to help the rebellion, despite their pain and hunger. Their anger at the elven traitor that had brought such suffering upon their people roused them as nothing else could. They clamored for weapons and the face of the false king and it took Sarithan and the rest of his guard to calm them. Any of Ainan's guards that had lingered quickly fled at the sight of the vengeful prisoners, now freed from their chains. They took off as if the Nine were on their heels, fleeing into the darkness. Several even willingly surrendered their weapons and joined the ranks of the growing insurrection.

Haldir smiled as confidently as he could. Now they at least had a chance. With proper timing, they might be able to find King Thranduil in time.

Gazing around at all of those familiar faces he had known since childhood, Legolas felt a pang in his heart for how much they had suffered. Just like him, they had been trapped down here with no knowledge of their family or friends, or even if they themselves would live beyond this night. Several recognized him but he did not speak to them, instead, he trotted forward and looked up at the tall guard with a sorrowful gaze. Tirien caught his eyes and sighed in relief, ruffling the prince's hair affectionately.

"My prince, thank heaven you are safe! I feared the worst," he smiled in relief.

Legolas licked dry lips and momentarily closed his eyes, hot, bubbling guilt and sorrow boiling in the pit of his stomach.

"I-I didn't tell you… Lóthmir…" He mumbled. "I'm so sorry, Tirien," Legolas said, his face crumbling as he looked up at his friend's father.

"It was no fault of yours, Legolas," the guard said kindly, laying a hand on the boy's shoulder though his brows contracted with worry. "You had nothing to do with my son's… disappearance." Long had he agonized over the fate of his son as his tormentors sought to break him with that knowledge. "I have to believe he's still alive," Tirien murmured.

Legolas finally found the courage to look up at him and meet the elven soldier's eyes. "I didn't want this to happen."

Tirien smiled mournfully and touched his shoulder gently. "None of us did, my boy. None of us wanted any of this to happen."

Rameil looked over at them. Tirien's gaze was downcast, his eyes fixed on the ground.

"My son is missing…" the guard captain explained tersely. "I have to find him. He's still alive…. I know it," his voice broke and he shook his head. Rameil looked at him compassionately as he laid a hand on the guard's shoulder.

"We shall look for him."

Haldir nodded his agreement.

"Rameil, Ancadal, you go with Tirien and Sarithan and his patrol- look for Lóthmir but you must arm yourselves as well. Ainan will not give in easily."

Haldir had thrown the mantle of command over his shoulders at last and his eyes were bright and fierce as he gazed around at those assembled around him. There was no time for hesitation now. To hesitate would mean death.

He agreed to meet them in three quarters of an hour in the cellars where Ainan would likely have placed the least amount of guards and they would have some semblance of peace and security to make a plan. He beckoned Legolas to follow him as the others set off down the corridor.

"Where are we going?" Legolas asked, falling into step beside Haldir as he broke off from the main group and headed down a side passage.

"We are going to find a safe place to keep you until this is over."

Legolas stopped dead.

"No! I'm not going to hide!" he protested volubly. Haldir turned and looked at him. "Leave me somewhere and I will follow you, Haldir, I swear I will."

Without arguing, Haldir seized the young prince by the arm.

"Come on."


The labyrinthine passages of the palace twisted and turned before them and the now-familiar dark pressed against their eyes like a smothering blanket. The group made their forward silently and Rameil recognized the vast chamber near to the prisons that he had passed through once before. They were beside the underground stream which tumbled down a steep tunnel to join the Forest River under the open sky.

As they drew closer, torches kindled as though by magic, lighting their path down the shallow stairs. The weak light suddenly blinded them after so long a time in the darkness. With their forearms lifted to shield their eyes from the sudden, painful light, they blinked in astonishment. When his vision had cleared of the popping sparks, Rameil lowered his arm and squinted into the dim chamber.

A figure started in shock and surprise and the barrel he had been carrying thudded loudly to the floor.

Tirien walked forward with a smile. Galion the butler looked as though he couldn't believe his eyes at the group of battered and disheveled elves walking towards him seemingly out of nowhere.

"My old friend," Tirien greeted him with a smile.

"Can it be you, Tirien? I had heard you were…" But the butler did not finish his sentence and merely shook his head with a returning grin. "Glad am I to see you alive my friend," the head servant clasped his old comrade's hand fervently. "I haven't tasted a drop since-"

"Quickly, Galion! There is no time for speech. We need weapons- now," Tirien interrupted, slapping his friend on the shoulder. The butler blinked in surprise. But the urgency of the situation sunk in fast as he glanced at those gathered behind his friend.

"They left them here; we didn't know what to do with them," he said, shifting aside empty barrels and prying open crates lying stacked against the back wall.

The former prisoners crowded round and drew long swords from their black sheaths, tested the strength of bowstrings and arrows. Tirien smiled grimly at the irony. Ainan's own weapons were benefiting those fighting against him. Galion hovered around them anxiously, eyeing the gleaming swords and grim expressions warily.

"Tirien, what's happening? Are we at war?"

The captain of the guard strung his bow with a grim smile.

"Go back to your wine, my gentle friend," he said. "Dark times are upon us now."

The butler looked away somberly, heading back towards the storeroom. He glanced around, spotting another barrel in the shadows near the open trapdoor that led to the stream.

Absentmindedly, looking down into the open pit as he turned the barrel onto its side, he gasped, his brow furrowing in bemusement. For the first time, he noticed that there was a thin sliver of metal bolted in one corner of the trap door, nigh invisible against the dark-stained stone. Attached to it, fell a long chain, dangling into darkness, towards the frigid depths of the river. Galion tugged on it experimentally and grunted in surprise; it was weighted.

"There is something here!" Galion shouted back over his shoulder as he pulled on the chain again. It was very heavy. Hearing his cry, Rameil came running and helped the head servant pull the limp thing up.

They nearly dropped the chain in shock when they saw what came up through that dark mouth.

"Lóthmir," Rameil breathed, recognizing the young child instantaneously; he looked so much like his father. Galion shot a sharp look at him and immediately knelt and put his arms around the child, pulling him up from that horrible hole. The shackles that had sliced circular cuts into his wrists were knotted cruelly tight and Galion had to borrow Rameil's dagger to cut them carefully free without injuring the child further.

The poor boy was ashen grey and his skin felt icy cold and damp to the touch as Galion brushed a hand over his brow, shuddering deeply in anger and disgust as he touched the swollen knot at the back of the child's head. Someone had struck him. Hard. Dried blood matted in his hair and his clothes were torn and bloodstained. He had not been beaten as severely as Legolas, Rameil noted. But he had been hurt and starved. So still and peaceful he looked… Rameil swallowed hard, fearing that they had found him too late.

"Is he…? Does he…?" He couldn't even ask the question to which he dreaded the answer. Galion bent over him anxiously, listening at his mouth and placing a careful hand on his chest.

"He lives," he answered, breathing an audible sigh of relief.

"Praise the Valar." Rameil closed his eyes thankfully, re-opening them when the young elf coughed weakly, his chest shuddering as he struggled to breathe properly after being suspended by his wrists for so long. The poor child was near death with cold and hunger and his eyes were closed tightly. He had been down here a long time and the dark-haired elf could see the outline of his ribs poking from beneath the filthy, ragged tunic he yet wore. Galion shook him gently to rouse him a little more.

The reaction was alarming.

Lóthmir pulled away with a small cry, curling in on himself protectively.

"Please, please!" he sobbed. "I-I didn't say a word! Please don't hurt Legolas! I swear I didn't say a word!"

"Shh, tithen," Rameil soothed, pulling the boy further away from the ledge as anger burned within him at the monster who had done this. "We're here to help you- no one's going to hurt Legolas or you anymore."

The young elf's head shot up out of his arms, staring at the elves around him with wide, unseeing eyes for a long moment.

"I am dreaming," he whispered wonderingly, his voice hoarse and disbelieving.

"It is no dream, little one. You're free," Galion said gently.

Rameil squeezed his shoulder silently. Lóthmir suddenly hurtled up and clung to him trembling with a mixture of terror and relief; Rameil could feel the tears soaking through his tunic as he stroked his hair soothingly.

"It's all right, tithen. He cannot hurt you anymore." Hot tears stung the older elf's eyes and he quickly blinked them back before they had a chance to fall. How he hated to see these children suffer so! And he vowed that the villain responsible would pay- and dearly.

"Lóthmir!"

Tirien bolted towards his son, snatching him up in his arms with tears streaming shamelessly down his cheeks. The young elf embraced him fiercely, sobs wracking his thin body at the sight of his father, the only one he could think about while he lay trapped in that dark hole with the clinking chain and the lapping waters as his only companions, fearing he would die.

"I thought I'd lost you, ion-nin," Tirien whispered, clinging to his son tightly and kissing the top of his head.

"I'm all right, Adar," Lóthmir said, gently releasing his father. "But we have to find Legolas, Adar! He-he was beating Legolas! We have to stop him! We can't let him hurt Legolas anymore!"

Tirien shook his head smiling as he gently rubbed his son's chilled arms anxiously.

"Don't worry, ion-nin. No one will hurt Legolas ever again- he is safe and I will take you to him after we get you warm and fed."

Rameil stood slowly, brushing a hand surreptitiously across his eyes.

"We have to go on. We must find the King and Ainan."

Lóthmir quailed at the name, pressing himself closer into his father's arms. The elven guard hugged his son tightly but he knew his duty. He had to protect the King.

"I will go with you," he said steadily.

Lóthmir looked up at him, determination springing into his eyes.

"I want to go too, Adar- I have to find Legolas," Lóthmir said obstinately.

"No, ion-nin," Tirien remonstrated gently. "I'm going to take you to the healers where you will get some rest after you have eaten. I will bring Legolas to you as soon as we find him."

Lóthmir looked ready to argue but Galion bent in with the air of a diplomat, interrupting the younger elf's protestations before they began.

"I will take him, Tirien."


"Where is everyone?" Legolas asked, looking up and down the empty healers' ward. Haldir shook his head. More than likely, the palace staff was either in hiding for fear of their 'master' or summoned elsewhere. It was troubling but Haldir actually felt a slight relief. Here at least, Legolas would be safe if everyone was thought to be gone. It was the safest place he could think of to take him and the closest.

Moving stiffly, he gathered up a water basin and some bandages he found rolled in a cupboard.

"Let me get you cleaned up a little," Haldir explained, setting the basin on a corner table. Legolas perched uneasily on the bed and pulled off his tunic, wincing as the cloth clung to the dried blood over his wounds.

Though he tried to be gentle, Haldir heard Legolas' muffled whimpers as he cleaned and bandaged the horrible lashes on his back, some of which would have to be stitched but he couldn't do that now. His hands were still stiff and clumsy from being tied up for so long. Silence pressed upon their ears but it was a brooding silence and the dark night outside had not lightened.

"Try to get some sleep all right?" Haldir suggested as he helped the prince into one of the soft feather-stuffed beds.

"I don't want to be alone, Haldir," Legolas whispered, clinging to his hand. Haldir knelt next to the bed, opening his mouth to reply but stiffened and whirled round with a hand on the hilt of his sword. Legolas bolted up, casting frantically about for a weapon.

A light had been struck; he could see the reflection bobbing light upon the wall near the doorway.

"Just a little further," an encouraging voice said.

Haldir's shoulders sagged in relief and he went to the door.

"Galion!" he called in a hoarse whisper.

The butler hurried forward, a lantern dangling from his hand and Haldir raised a forearm to shield his eyes before the servant lowered it apologetically. A dark shape hung back behind him, golden hair glinting in the lamplight.

Looking over the head servant's shoulder, Lóthmir felt his heart stop as he saw Legolas looking up at the doorway. Staggering with hunger, thirst and weariness, the young elf scrambled past Haldir and swooped upon his friend. The older elves pulled back to give them privacy as Legolas froze in shock.

"Oh, Legolas!" The prince winced as his friend drew him into a tight hug but he returned it full force, his own relief causing tears to prick his eyes. His friend was alive!

"I'm so sorry! I didn't know! I didn't know!"

Legolas felt a burning in the back of his mouth as his throat constricted. Gently, he put his friend away from him, skimming his fingers under his friend's eyes to wipe away the tears.

"I know," he said simply. "I know you didn't, Lóthmir. It's all right." The elf shook his head, pulling away.

"No, Legolas! It is most certainly not all right! All this time and you never said a word!" The young prince looked away, longing to steer the subject away from such unpleasantness. Besides, his concerned gaze immediately took in Lóthmir's emaciated and filthy appearance, his heart aching for the pain and lingering terror in his friend's eyes.

"We need to get you help," he said firmly. Lóthmir shrugged it off, eyeing the bandages, clearly visible, wrapped around the young prince's back and chest.

"You are the one who is hurt, mellon-nîn."

Haldir smiled at the two reunited boys and turned back to the servant who set the lantern on the table, casting a wavering glow about the room.

"You will guard them with your life," Haldir charged him, pressing a long knife into his hand. It was best they keep this as quiet as possible for as long as possible. If Ainan discovered that Legolas and Lóthmir as well as the prisoners of the lower dungeons were free, their element of surprise would be lost.

The butler nodded, straightening his shoulders though he looked at the knife as though he had never seen one before. Legolas looked between them, a frown furrowing his brow as he turned a challenging gaze on Haldir.

"Where are you going? Take me with you," the prince reiterated stubbornly.

Haldir immediately denied him.

"I have to find my father and mother!" Legolas near-shouted, his face flushing with indignation and disbelief. "You promised! You promised you wouldn't leave me!" he yelled angrily, nearly stamping his foot in his frustration.

Haldir knelt next to him, grabbing him by the upper arms, staring desperately up into his eyes.

"Legolas, I cannot take you with me."

Legolas obdurately refused to back down.

Hands akimbo, Haldir glared at him in frustration. The prince was as stubborn as he was, despite his wounds and hunger and weariness, he was still willing to go to death with him.

"Legolas, I promised your mother I would keep you safe. If I bring you into battle with me, what does that make of my promise?" he demanded. "Is that fair?"

Sullenly, the elf-prince shook his head.

"Then you will watch over your friend while I am gone."

Legolas nodded.

"Good."

Rising stiffly, Haldir clasped the familiar worn grip of his own sword. He stared down at the two elven children, holding their images in his mind's eye lest it be the last time he ever laid eyes on them again.

"Haldir."

He turned at the doorway. Legolas looked up at him.

"You're coming back right?"

Haldir smiled sadly.

"You can count on it."

Then steeling himself against regret and sorrow, he spun quickly about and walked out of the room.