CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Beginning of the End

Aragorn stared up at Legolas with a white face and the biggest eyes the Elf had ever had the amusement of looking upon in a long time. Smiling devilishly and in half-monotony, the prince stared down at his friend as he extended a helping hand down for the ranger to grasp. Aragorn grabbed the prince's slender hand reluctantly, remembering vividly the painful time spent in Dorrag's little dungeons. Legolas looked at him curiously and then cast a small and concerned frown as he felt the human's grip on his hand loosen even more. "Estel, my hand will be fine. Please, just grab it. I don't need you to fall back down the stairs so I have to fetch your battered body back up again." He winced unnoticeably when he felt Aragorn grip his hand tightly.

Aragorn glanced over his shoulder at the stairs leading down behind him and looked up at Legolas with a half-smile. "Trust me on this; I wouldn't want you to have to fetch my battered body up from the bottom of the stairs." He grinned cheekily when Legolas rolled his eyes at the light banter.

"I was hoping you didn't," the Elf commented under his breath and proceeded to pull Aragorn out of the hidden trap door as quickly as his weary body allowed him to. This was actually fast, all things considered. He knitted his brows when Aragorn stumbled up and then past him entirely by accident before halting abruptly to avoid stepping on the body of Gelion.

Legolas watched for a moment as his friend's face went from white to grey as he realized from the blue tinge creeping into Gelion's lips that the man was dead. Looking back at Legolas with a dropped jaw his asked stiffly and slowly in shock, "whatever happened here?" He nearly flushed as he realized the stupidity of his question but he simply couldn't help but ask.

"He tried to club me within an inch of my life! I did what I had to, Estel," Legolas muttered, grabbing the man's shoulders and trying to steer him past the corpse of the large barkeeper that was sprawled out on the floor. Legolas scowled darkly and with disapproval as Aragorn stopped without warning and shrugged Legolas' hands off.

Turning on Legolas, the mortal frowned as he sensed the disturbance in the Elf's voice. "You did nothing wrong, my friend. He attacked you."

"Killing people isn't exactly something I feel comfortable with…ever," Legolas finished in a voice that trailed off. He sighed and grabbed Aragorn's arm and spun him quickly around to guide him out of the door. Aragorn didn't resist though he had liked to, and allowed himself to be pushed out of the door.

Legolas looked back one last time and saw Gelion's lifeless form spread-eagle on the floor and the large, black pan lying next to it. Sighing, Legolas shook his head as he continued out the door swiftly. If he had thought he was insane before he was certain of it now. After all, he had killed this man with a frying pan. If he hadn't been the one to do it, he would have never believed it, absolutely never. Grabbing the door, he shut it roughly behind him with a quiet swoosh noise and a soft and nearly unperceptive click.

But before he could brood anymore, he was swiftly and abruptly brought into the moment as an arrow slammed with a definite smack into the wooden door and there were a few more thuds as some more of the bolts found their way into the wood of the building. Aragorn wisely ducked grabbing Legolas' arm and pulling him down as well, forcing the Elf into a low crouch. The prince nodded his thanks that was scarcely seen by Aragorn in the dark, due to the heavier rain that had started to fall and swiftly quenched the blaze started by the flaming arrows.

"And now all we have to do it get out of Astroggen undetected," Legolas grumbled sardonically, muffled halfway by his deep breaths that he was working on making as quiet as possible. An annoying thing, breathing. It was easiest to hear at the most inconvenient times imaginable.

Aragorn glanced sidelong at his companion and snorted softly at the wry remark from the pessimistic prince. "Oh, is that all mellon nin?" he teased dryly with a small half-smile tugging at his lips. The ranger watched as Legolas shook his head minutely and sighed wearily. "Where is Damrod?" Aragorn inquired, finding it odd that the brother of Darcíl wasn't dogging their every step. He wasn't used to the feeling of being free.

There was a long silence in which he heard Legolas draw a long sigh and observed in wondering silence as the blonde being kept his eyes to the ground. He seemed to be avoiding eye contact with anyone but the soggy soil beneath their feet. At long last, after what seemed a decade, the Elf murmured, "I killed him too, Estel."

It took a moment for the words to sink in and the ranger sighed before he took found himself starring blindly at the ground as well. He knew Legolas didn't feel comfortable with putting out any life. Immortals were careful about killing others, very careful and often all too merciful. They often got themselves killed because they were overly merciful with a foe. "Well I am sure you had to," Aragorn answered thoughtfully as he tried to say something that wouldn't provoke a volley of bitter words or vindication from his companion.

"He knew where you were," the Elf answered softly with a touch of disinclination and looked at the men scurrying about the streets. "But he wouldn't tell me. Let's just leave it at that I had to get a little creative with impressing upon him the urgency at which I needed to find you. But I didn't want to kill him…he attacked me and I kicked out, sending him against the wooden side of a building. I don't know whether he is merely knocked out or if he is he dead."

Aragorn nodded and made no further comment on the subject, not wanting to cause Legolas to go on the defense and also knowing that there were more important issues at hand…like getting out alive for instance…or getting out at all, was more actually the dilemma. How exactly did one maneuver past soldiers and others out for your blood? Knowing it wasn't going to be easy was about the extent of Aragorn's knowledge at the moment and he sighed beside the Elf, who looked down at him mournfully and with a weary, droopy look in his eyes.

"There are too many," He said quietly in a whisper. "We won't make it out without being pursued and Valar knows we might get re-captured." He was quiet for a moment and then muttered under his breath, "and then we are both dead."

Aragorn glanced up at the Elf and then shifted his feet on the wet earth nervously. "Nice of you to be so pessimistically blunt, mellon nin," he grumbled pointedly as Legolas gave a soft smile in the dark. Well, now that Aragorn looked at it a bit closer, it really couldn't be called a smile. Maybe a half-frown but definitely not a smile, he decided to himself before turning his attention back to the approaching soldiers.

Several of them were approaching and Aragorn felt his dismay grow as he realized they seemed to be overly zealous about carrying out their orders. If he didn't know better he would say they particularly enjoyed going around and smashing doors, windows and anything else that got into their path. They were just like orcs, he realized, relatively mindless and having a special soft spot in their wicked hearts for the enjoyment of sheer destruction. His gaze redirected to look at his Elven companion who was chewing on his bottom lip thoughtfully as his alert cyan eyes intently followed the soldier's every move.

"This is about as easy as being a rat in a sinking ship," muttered the Elf to himself but audible enough that Aragorn could easily hear it.

Biting his own bottom lip now in quiet concentration, the ranger channeled his grey eyes towards the soldiers once more, anxiety rising in his heart as he realized with distress Legolas was right. They were caught like rats in a quickly sinking ship that happened to be going under in choppy waters. Inwardly slapping himself, the man knew he must stop himself form drawing these morbid and discouraging analogies.

A loud bang disrupted Aragorn 's train of thought abruptly and he jerked visibly, causing Legolas to look at him in grave concern. "Are you alright?" he hissed at his friend. "Are you in pain?"

"No more than usual," Aragorn retorted grumpily, unnerved.

Legolas glared before he replied crossly, "funny, very funny."

"And completely honest," Aragorn answered back with a slight grin. He snorted as he watched the soldiers coming closer and asked Legolas without looking at the blonde being, "Do you have a plan for getting past these people?" Not expecting an answer, the dark-haired ranger sighed wearily.

There was a silence that lasted for few moments.

But it was promptly broken by Legolas' voice, sounding more devious than usual, Aragorn noted dryly. "I actually do, my friend," he whispered with a calculating look coming into his eyes and an old and dangerous sparkle returning.

There was no way possible that the expression the prince bore meant anything good, at least, if you were a hapless Haradrim warrior.

"Valar help us all," Aragorn teased as he watched Legolas' expression with minimal amusement flickering for a brief second across his face. "Well, lets here it."

Legolas allowed a quizzical facial cast to cross his features before he answered with a soft snort as he suppressed a chuckle that was trying to bubble up. He nearly choked on his laughter and then nodded. "Alright, here it is."

Bending lower, he whispered cautiously into Aragorn's ear all that he had come up with.

After he had disclosed his plans, the Elf pulled away quickly and watched his friend's face for the expected reaction.

Aragorn dropped his jaw silently and then snapped it shut quickly. His lips pressed into a thin, conscientious white line before he opened his mouth again and began to move it without speaking. Suddenly he found his voice. "No, absolutely not." He started to stand up in his frustration and anxiety but his arm was grabbed by the smiling blonde Elf who hastily yanked him back down into a crouching position before he made himself an easy target.

"Be careful Estel," Legolas cautioned as Aragorn jerked his arm free with some anger.

"And you tell me to be careful!" he accused angrily. Staring at the prince accusingly, the mortal snapped. "I will not let you carry through with this!" He looked at the ground and then looked up at Legolas sternly before the poor prince had time to advocate himself. "No!"

"Estel-"

"Absolutely not!" the man seethed in a dangerous and nearly threatening hiss. His eyes showed an adamancy that Legolas knew it would be smart not to challenge. But then again he was insane, so this was no anomaly to his usual state of mind and routine.

"Look, if we don't do this now, we aren't leaving here alive!" The blonde being argued as fiercely as he could bring himself to. "The soldiers are moments away, do you understand that? Moments!" He rolled his blue eyes over in an explicit gesture towards the approaching warriors. "I will be fine-"

"You always say that!" Aragorn bit out as his frustration and blood temperature (not to mention pressure) rose.

"Well I am alive at this moment-" Legolas sighed as he was interrupted by the near livid ranger.

"But far from fine," the man felt compelled to point out.

"Well you and who are going to stop me?" Legolas hissed, consciously working not to shout as his patience began to quickly leave as the urgency increased. "We have no choice but to split up, just until we get outside of the city. They are after me, you can escape, I will follow."

"So you told me," the man grumbled, seeing the evident sense but refusing to believe that Legolas was actually going to do this. "They are out to kill you, Legolas! Damn it!" he finally cursed. "You cannot let those men come after you! That is madness! Actually, I don't know why this surprises me," he finished grouchily.

Legolas was about to mutter something uncomplimentary back to the ranger when a sinister voice behind them chuckled, "well what do we have here?"

Cold shivers, like icicles being stabbed into his back one by one accelerated up Legolas' spine and raised the hair on the back of his head one strand at a time. Gulping and looking at Aragorn without turning his head, Legolas' azure eyes were intense with conveyed fear but more surprise than anything else. Aragorn dared to turn his head and look behind them both to see a tall man, obviously a commander or captain by his uniform, which had been similar to Darcíl's. 'No, wait,' he amended mentally. 'They are identical.'

Legolas jerked around and stood up with a literal jump. His heart began to thud in his chest but his expression was a complete and bitter glower aimed at the Haradrim Captain before him. "You just don't know when to give up," the man smiled maliciously at the Elf as he spoke, stepping forward with his sword level with Legolas' throat whilst being a considerable foot away.

"Well generally when one's life is threatened they fight to the death," Legolas replied coolly, or at least relatively speaking. His blue orbs took an iced over effect before he back-stepped as Cortanyar advanced. The sword was becoming uncomfortingly close to his jugular and then there was also the unfortunate fact that he could here men closing in from all sides like wolves closing in on trapped deer.

"Well the fight is over now," The ex-healer nearly purred, much to Legolas' annoyance. Nodding to the men he commanded casually, "bind the Elf," His eyes connected with Legolas' wide ones. "Kill the ranger."

O0O0O0O0O

Darcíl struggled forward a few more meager feet. He stumbled and was barely able to stop himself from falling flat on his face. It was dark all about him and the lightning had stopped flickering, providing minute moments of radiant light. But towards Astroggen he saw light, golden with orange reflecting a brilliant red against the sky and clouds billowed up from the direction of the town. But those were not clouds, he realized sharply. They were billows of smoke, smoke created from the burning of the crops, he knew that.

Trying to walk forward a few more feet he discovered with vivid clarity that he couldn't easily go any farther. He felt heavier than an iron horse shoe as the weight of the burden of his family weighed down upon his already injured spirit and conscience. They were dead! He couldn't believe that they were gone, forever, it was unreal, entirely. They had always secretly supported him and now they were deceased, because of him! His body felt far too heavy to move anymore and he felt himself sliding to his knees.

His mind tried to force him to continue but he simply could not. His muscles refused to comply no matter how much he tried to get them to function properly and finally he gave up and remained kneeling on the ground, with is hands in his lap. Lowering his head, the man let his eyes close as he felt tears pricking behind them with a sharp pain. His heart had already broken, but now his conscience was following.

He had done a lot of things that he wasn't proud of. He had killed innocent people; he had tortured and maimed. Even though he loathed the Elf, he hadn't gained any enjoyment from the immortal's pain. He felt his hands stained with the blood of many that he didn't think could ever be cleansed. He should have gone against Dorrag a long time ago, as his brother had.

Why hadn't he? Because he had his family to think of, but now they were dead and out of his reach of protection. Now he had nothing to lose except his country and/or his life. Darcíl felt his tears running down his face as he realized his own life he could gamble with but that he should have never started gambling with the lives of his family. As he kneeled on the wet sandy earth he felt nothing; he was numb, completely.

Suddenly something shot through his heart, something painful that didn't come from the loss of his wife and children. It was like separate part of him had died, shriveled and burned away. He couldn't understand where this came from but he was certain that it wasn't a good thing. As a matter of fact, it seemed to ominous and foreboding.

O0O0O0O0O

Elladan woke uneasily. Something had disturbed him.

Roving his eyes around the night sky and then all about the ground he lay on, the Elf noticed his twin was still sleeping peacefully beside him, his breathing was deep and methodical as he dreamed restfully. Smiling, Elladan sat up and saw what had roused him, their father was awake and staring intently across the river's ford.

He whispered quietly, "Ada?" Elrond turned around and quieted him with one firm look that explained everything.

"The orcs are moving. I do not know why but they appear to be going deeper into Mirkwood," the elder Elf answered when he saw his eldest son's inquiring look that quickly changed to one of critical foreboding, typical of Elladan's disposition. Elladan blinked numbly and watched his father for a moment, trying unsuccessfully to calculate the severity of the situation.

"Perhaps the Wood-Elves are drawing them in to kill them?" he proposed softly as he stood by Elrond's side attentively, his eyes now transfixed on the opposite shore. When the Lord of Imladris didn't answer he looked at his father curiously. "Ada?" he questioned with raw concern.

"Perhaps, Elladan, perhaps. I cannot tell, but I think we would have known if that were the case, my son," he added as he shook his head tiredly and began tot walk back to where they were camped, though it was lacking a fire and the dimmed light of the moon was all the light they had. The stars provided some light as well.

"Indeed, we would have. Father, Captain Rothinzil would have fallen flat at some point or done something else incredibly 'un-Elf-like'. " The older twin chuckled under his breath as he remembered past experiences with the young Wood-Elf. He shifted his piercing gaze reluctantly away from the orc camp across the ford, to his father's face.

Elrond was smiling, or that was what he thought but when the light changed, as the stars seemed to brighten he saw the Elf-lord was frowning. Maybe it had been a change of lighting that had caused a figment of the imagination of a smile having appeared. Or perhaps the smile had been brief and quickly faded. Unable to tell, Elladan narrowed his eyes and returned to glowering at the opposite shore where the fell beasts were gathered. Disappointed, the Elf realized that he couldn't see much of anything much in thanks to a fine misty fog that was settling over the river and along its banks. Crinkling his nose, he silently cursed their luck or more accurately the lack thereof.

Elrond nodded in gesticulation to the orcs. "We may have to find another place to cross." His face looked suddenly so much older than Elladan ever remembered it looking and it made the elder twin feel sick to his stomach.

A soft call drew his attention back to his bedside where he saw Elrohir sitting up with a cloudy look on his pale features. Still not fully awake, the younger twin mumbled tiredly, "what in Arda are you doing up?" He yawned and blinked stupidly before his silver eyes connected with his elder twin's.

"Nothing, Elrohir, go back to sleep," Elladan answered back calmly and began to walk back towards his younger brother. Elrohir was frowning with care for his brother and his frown turned into a scowl as Elladan sat beside him with an audible plop. It was obvious that the older to the brothers was distressed. Unable to sit still, he grabbed a long blade of grass, uprooting it and bending it around in his fingers.

"There is something on your mind," Elrohir said thoughtfully as he watched their father keeping his silent and steadfast vigil over the ford. Elrohir turned his eyes back to Elladan, who he saw was watching the opposite bank as well with an intense look in his eyes as he tried without success to bore through the thickening mist. Curse this mist!

"I just have a feeling that Estel needs us urgently, right now," Elladan murmured, shaking his head as though to try and relieve himself of the thought that their younger brother was in any danger.

"Odd," Elrohir said slowly, looking at his hands as he spoke, curling his fingers and uncurling them with no true purpose in mind. "I have the same feeling." Elladan noticed Elrohir suddenly went really quiet, so you could hardly hear him breathing. It didn't even sound like his voice speaking as he whispered to his twin, "but I don't think he is alone right now. I am not sure Legolas is in Mirkwood."

"What do you mean?" Elladan asked impassively, his face looking dead of all thought. If anything he had a faraway look in his eyes, as though he was in another world. Suddenly he looked at Elrohir, who looked restless and uneasy. Tossing the bent up piece of grass and pulling up another, Elladan waited for Elrohir to explain himself, knowing it would happen in his own time.

"I mean, Legolas hasn't sent word in what? Two years? I don't think we made him that angry when we put worms in his tunic pockets a few years back," Elrohir and Elladan shared a smile at the memory of that particular escapade. Legolas had nearly squealed when he reached into his pockets and found a slimy surprise that actually was crawling. Instead his face obtained a green color before turning red with fury.

"Perhaps you are right, maybe he is with Estel," Elladan agreed halfway.

Elrohir snorted. "Valar help Estel then, I say." Elladan smiled but somehow it never reached his eyes. Noticing this, Elrohir frowned and looked at the wet grass about them, not wanting to meet his brother's gaze. "But if Legolas isn't in Mirkwood then why are we going there?"

"Maybe Thranduil will know something that can help us," Elladan answered calmly as he stretched out beside Elrohir and clasped his hands behind his head for a pillow, interlocking his fingers and staring up at the sky, the stars in particular. He would have liked being out in this beautiful place if it had not been for Estel missing and their father being overly depressed.

Elrohir settled back down onto his bedding and mumbled morbidly, "maybe Legolas is in Mirkwood and the orcs are too bold for them to do much traveling to get word to us."

Elladan pushed down the annoying voice in his head that had burst into hysterics at the suggestion of Legolas being held back because of a troupe of two of orcs. All the same, he could not help but snicker himself. "That prince doesn't seem to mind finding or fighting a troupe of orcs single handedly. I think he halfway enjoys having his life in constant danger."

"He is a lunatic, even for a Wood-Elf," Elrohir determined audibly with a bantam and modest snicker of his own.

"Lunatic enough to get himself killed?" Elladan questioned bluntly, glancing over at his brother with a purposeful look reflecting in his silver eyes that made Elrohir uncomfortable.

"Surely we would have heard something," Elrohir disputed hopefully, though he feel this anxiety rise in his throat and dread gathering in the pit of his stomach. Suddenly he wished he had not eaten that Lembas bread earlier. From the contorted and worried face of his brother, Elrohir knew that Elladan felt undividedly the same way.

"We might have, I suppose. I mean two years…you would have thought they would have told us about the passing of their prince," Elladan turned everything over in his head, mulling over it for a few moments. "No," he voiced softly, "I do not think that Legolas is dead." He cast a worried frown towards their father as Lord Elrond paced near the bank, obviously disquieted about the orcs on the other side. The mist concealed everything on the other side of the ford but with their sensitive hearing, the Elves could all three hear the orcs jeering and growling and wreaking havoc on the trees with their axes; being in general the evil menaces that they were.

"Then maybe you were right earlier. Thranduil might know where Legolas has gallivanted off to." Elrohir's voice sounded weary and Elladan's eyes smiled as he looked at his twin.

"Get some rest, gwador-nin."

"You too, brother," Elrohir answered back, already beginning to stare off into space as he merged night and dream in the fashion of the Elves.

Elladan said nothing, but remained awake staring at the stars, He just knew that his brother needed him right now and it hurt that he wasn't there. 'Elbereth, help them both,' he prayed silently. 'If Legolas is with him there still isn't a wit between them.'

TBC….Ouch, evil cliffie, but just as a warning we will say that these last few chapters, in general are going to be short, fast and tense.