Title: Delw yomenie (Deadly encounter)

Characters: All Peredhels, mainly Strider, Legolas……and something/someone deadly….

Timeline: Before FOTR

Rating: T (!)

Warnings: For some disturbing images. Cruelty and maniacal behaviour. WIP.

Summery: Our Middle-Earth friends encounter something deadly…..

Feedback: YES! Please!

A/N: Many thanks Trini for your beta! waves

Disclaimer: I own nothing of the works of Tolkien. Neither books, nor movies. I just borrow them and try to give them back in one piece later. I make no money with this story. Please, do not sue me.

Chapter 18 – The Chase

Night had come swiftly as the storm had darkened the lands and the clouds had released the rain they had been holding for days. The sheet of heavy rain that poured down onto the ground made the night even darker, leaving no place untouched and dry. The grey clouds had imprisoned the moon, holding back the silver light of the round orb, leaving the Earth black and gloomy.

Water rushed from the trees, the leaves not able to hold it back and created small waterfalls that ran over the branches, building puddles near the tree trunks and making the grass slippery and wet.

The strong wind chased the rain around, letting it come from every direction and from nowhere at all at the same time. The small gurgling stream that had flowed gently near the battle field had risen to become a wide and dangerous river within moments as the water from the looming mountains had fed it constantly.

Feeling the winds grab at his hair and pull him back, his feet being sucked by the mud on the ground, his arms becoming heavy from the water that clung to his tunic and his cloak tangling in low hanging branches and thorny shrubs, Legolas wondered how his friend was able to keep up with him.

They had followed the tracks of the captain deeper into the forest, passing the tree line and leaving the noises of battle behind them. Now, as the forest had swallowed them, the wind and the rain were the only sounds that accompanied their breathing and the splashing sounds of their feet on the water-soaked ground.

Now and then the rumbling of thunder could be heard, shaking the trees and making the fresh and new born spring leaves tremble. As another wave of cold rain water hit his face, the Mirkwood archer turned his head sideways to avoid at least some of the rain. And there, besides him, his best friend was running, clothes wet and torn in many places, blood clinging to most of the fabric, turning it a deep red and brown.

Estel's face was turned away from him, his gaze fixed on the way that lay before them. The human held a long and heavy sword in his hand, the blade reflecting the scarce light and water dripping from it. Wet hair clung to the ranger's head, dark strands of it had fallen into his face, but Estel had not bothered to wipe them away.

Legolas noted that his friend's breathing was faster than it should have been, even under these circumstances; his face was paler than the morning mist that usually hung over the waterfalls of the elven haven and the ranger limped with every step he took. But nevertheless, his human friend seemed to have no problem to keep up with the fast step that Legolas had set.

Directing his gaze back at the way that lay before him, Legolas knew that his friend would not stop until they had found Dagnir and Taran, and that Estel would not stand back in the fight that was to come, as such was the nature of his friend. And if Legolas was honest with himself that was one of the reasons for which he called Estel his mellon. Falling in step with his friend, both rushed through the storm to end what had been begun by someone else.

Xoxoxoxo

The wind that had blown into their faces had not lessened and the rain that had soaked their clothes had not slowed when the two friends finally found what they had been looking for. There before them, a dark shadow against the yellow and green coloured sky, stood Dagnir, his white hair being swept around his head by the storm, his cloak muddy and soaked and his sword in his hand, his back towards the two friends.

Stopping in their tracks and readying their weapons, Legolas and Estel shared a quick glance. Why had Dagnir stopped? Why was he not even trying to run? Or hide? What was this human doing?

Their questions were answered as a flash of lightening illuminated the sky and therewith the scene before them. The hunter had not continued running because there simply had been nowhere to go. Dagnir was standing at a deep chasm, the ground opening before him. A few more steps and the human would tumble into the precipice, never to be seen again until a wayward wanderer climbed to the bottom of the deep chasm.

The friends guessed that the chasm they were standing before must be the continuance of the smaller precipice the hunters had camped at the night before, which had deepened here, at the foothills of the Misty Mountains.

As the two watched, Dagnir's shoulders rose and fell in the rhythm of the human's heavy breathing, his head bent, sword hanging at his side. Then, as if the man had come to a decision, his shoulders straightened, his sword hand tightened around the hilt, his head came up and he seemed to inhale deeply.

Slowly, Legolas and Estel advanced, not knowing what they would have to face. Both had no doubt that Dangir would fight them as they knew he was not one to give up easily. Dagnir was a fighter, a warrior, a hunter and a murderer.

But what the friends had not thought about was that even Dagnir was only human, a man whose plans had been ruined and whose only sense in life - revenge - had been taken away from him, leaving him crushed and without hope.

So therefore, when Dagnir turned to face his opponents, he had made his decision. His eyes were void of all emotion except hatred and determination, gleaming red in the thunderstorm. He held his sword in one hand and Taran in the other, pressing the frightened child at his chest.

Big and scared child's eyes met those of the elf and ranger, the little boy begging silently to be rescued and taken away from the evil man. The friends could not tell if Taran was crying or if the wetness on the boy's cheeks was solely from the rain, but both knew that the boy was in mortal danger as long as he was with Dagnir. But that was what they had come for; to rescue the child and deal with the hunter.

Rain slashed at his face as Legolas stepped forward, in the direction of the captain, his daggers firmly gripped in his slender hands, his eyes narrowed against the storm. As Legolas took one step forward, Dagnir took one step back, now nearly standing at the edge of the chasm.

The trees that surrounded them on three sides groaned in the wind, water falling down heavily from the treetops and branches, creating little streams of rainwater on the bark. As the wind changed its direction, now coming from the direction of the fight between the hunters and the elves, low noises and screams could be heard, then a yell in elvish that sounded victorious, although neither Estel nor Legolas could understand the words that were not quite loud enough for even Legolas to be able to hear properly.

A muscled twitched in the captain's face, indicating that he had heard the sound, too. Then, an insane smirk pulled at the man's lips, widening into a full fletched grin. At this moment, Estel knew that Dagnir did not plan to escape. No, the man knew that he would die in that very night. And the ranger realized one more thing and that was that a man such as Dagnir would decide the form of his death; he would not let himself be killed by Legolas or himself.

No sooner had Estel come to that conclusion, than the captain threw his broadsword to the side, turned on his heel and stormed to the edge of the chasm, the child still in his arms. The storm seemed to celebrate this move, as a loud clap of thunder boomed, shaking the earth under their feet, the rain cascading down even more dense that before.

But as fast the human hunter might have been, Legolas was faster. With the speed of the firstborn and the grace of his kin, the agile archer raced forwards in the direction of Dagnir, his wet hair flying behind him like a banner in a storm, water splashing at his face and rebounding from his skin. The archer's feet barely touched the ground as he went, his light weight not disturbing the slippery mud.

But although Legolas as an elf was faster than the captain, he was not fast enough to prevent the human from throwing himself over the edge of the chasm, sending his body and that of the child into the deep and deadly abyss below.

Estel, awoken out of the paralysis in which he had momentarily fallen into as Dagnir had turned towards the deep black void, ran forward, although he knew that he would never reach the man in time.

Through the rain and the wind, the blond archer flung himself forwards, letting go of the white handles of his twin knives to free his hands, slamming hard onto the wet ground, sliding forwards on the mud and reaching out with his right arm, over the edge of the rocks, down towards the falling figure of the man.

Lightening crashed, thunder boomed, the wind roared…. and the human captain dangled down over the black abyss, held back by Legolas' strong hand.

Eyes red as the fires of Mordor looked up and pierced the Prince's blue ones, the face of the man full of hate and disgust. The rain made the elf's hold on the human slippery and with every second that passed the archer felt how his own body was sliding forwards on the mud and the wet grass, his upper half now dangling over the chasm as well.

The human murderer looked down at the blackness below him, then at the frightened child in his arms. Taran, his big blues eyes widened in fear, looked at the man that still held him, pleading without words to let him go, to save him.

When he lifted his gaze back to Legolas, the elf knew that the human had no flicker of mercy in his heart. The elf's eyes widened as the human that he held grabbed the child by the back of his tunic, spreading his arm wide to the side; Taran now hanging freely in the air, only held by the captain. Then, Dagnir smiled, the first true smile that Legolas had ever seen on the man's face. And then, the man´s fingers opened, wind rushed through the boy's hair and without so much as a sound coming from his lips, the small and helpless child fell.

"No!" Slithering to a halt at the very edge of the chasm, his body hanging dangerously over the edge, Estel reached out with his hand, wet from the rain and the mud and desperately wished that he was not too late.

His fingers brushed the collar of Taran's tunic the moment Dagnir released his hold on the boy, and with the foolishness of panic and desperation the ranger stretched even further and then, as he was sure that he was too late and the boy was lost, the fingers of his right hand hooked themselves onto the child's rain soaked tunic, preventing the boy from falling to his death.

Legolas watched, stunned, as his friend secured his hold on the boy and slowly, very slowly, shuffled back over the edge of the chasm, his body laying in the mud and on the wet grass, making it difficult to move as every movement could cause his friend to lose his hold and slide forwards, over the edge and to his death.

The rain continued to fall on them, the droplets big and heavy, drumming at his body and making his own hold on the captain slippery; his own body sliding forwards with every breath he took.

By now, the elf saw how his friend lifted the child over the edge and onto safe ground, first kneeling and then falling backwards in his exhaustion, the boy pressed securely to his chest. Breathing heavily, Estel then righted himself and the moment he locked gazes with Legolas, an angry yell sounded from below "NO! NO!"

Looking down quickly, Legolas saw the red eyes of the hunter gleam up at him and then, suddenly, the archer felt his body slip on the wet grass, losing his precarious hold and sliding forwards, his chest, his hips and then the rest of his body.

Eyes widened in shock and denial the Prince felt the weight of the human drag him down, over the edge and to certain death. He did not know why he had not just let go of Dagnir after he had seen that Estel had rescued the child, but Legolas knew that it was too late now. He would die. Not somewhere, not someday, but here and now. He closed his ocean blue eyes and prepared for the blackness to take him, wishing that his death would be quick and rejoicing that at least his friend was safe.

But fate was not so cruel.

Just as he had closed his eyes, his hand still holding onto the human as he had not had the time to release the man, another hand, strong and well known to the elf, grabbed one of his legs, jolting the fall to an abrupt halt, making the archer´s hair fly round his fair face.

Turning his head as far as he could the elf looked over his shoulder at his leg and then upwards. Estel was hanging precariously over the edge of the chasm, his dark hair hanging in his face that was even paler than it had been before, almost gray, his jaw set in a grim line, eyes determined but full of pain.

Panting slightly from the strain that was put on his arm and the overall pain that enveloped him, the ranger breathed out, almost too soft for Legolas to hear over the strong wind and the pounding of the rain: "Legolas, I cannot hold both of you. You have to let him go."

It was not a difficult decision for the archer to make. Because although he never killed needlessly, not even his worst enemies, if he had to decide between his own life and that of a murderer, he would choose his own. He had to let the hunter go or both of them would die. Looking down he opened his hand to release his hold onto the human, only to realize that the human had grabbed the sleeve of his own green tunic with his hand, the hunters fingers tangled into the fabric; Dagnir would not let go.

Deep blue eyes met insane red ones and as another flash of lightening illuminated the chasm, revealing how deep it truly was, Legolas felt his heart sink. The captain was not only mad with hatred, he was really insane. Feeling the strong fingers of the human dig into the soft flesh of his forearm, Legolas knew that he had no way to break the grip of the man.

The captain of the hunters grinned evilly at him, rain falling in his face as he looked up and as their eyes met the prince realized that the hunter was not clinging to the elf to save his own life, but to take the elf with him into the abyss.

Suddenly, Estel gasped and Legolas felt his body fall downwards a bit as his friend started slipping on the rain soaked grass, as the elf himself had done only moments before. Having screwed his eyes shut in pain, his free hand dug into the soft earth to stop his sliding, the ranger said breathlessly: "Legolas, let go. Please!"

Looking up at his friend, Legolas answered softly in Sindarin: "Non hiraeth (I am sorry), Estel, but I can't."

The ranger's eyes snapped open and when he saw why his friend had not released his hold on the captain, they widened even further, disbelief and fear visible in the silver orbs.

Once more Legolas felt his friend slip on the wet ground, now dangling himself almost over the edge. In this moment Legolas knew that they would all die; Dagnir, he and Estel, because his friend would never let go of him, never. The youngest Elrondion would willingly sacrifice his own life if it meant that Legolas had a chance of living, as slim as this chance might be.

Another flash of lightening brightened the sky, making the clouds look poisonous; the wind wailed in the elf's ears and tore at his clothing. Then, Legolas made his decision. Finding his friend's eyes, he smiled weakly, whispering: "Namarie, mellon nin. It has been an honor to call you my friend." And with that, he moved his leg sharply, loosening the ranger's grip on it and therewith saving his friend´s life.

But Legolas, as pure as his heart and as selfless his intention may have been, had not counted on his friend´s stubbornness. Releasing his hold on the wet grass and the Earth that secured himself to the ground, Estel reached out with both hands this time, catching the elf's other leg, grounding out between clenched teeth: "Don't you dare, elf!"

Panic rising in his chest and fear enveloping his tender heart, the Mirkwood archer looked at his friend, pleading: "Estel, let me go or we will all die."

"You don't really think I will let you go, Legolas, do you?" And after giving the elf a look full of determination and strength he added: "Never, Legolas, I would never let you go like this."

As they spoke, Dagnir reached unnoticed under his cloak with his free hand, pulling out a small dagger, a vicious glimmer in his eyes. Pulling his arm back he prepared to throw it at Estel. If he had to die, he could take them both with him. It would only be fair. The ranger had ruined his plans, so why not let him pay the price as well?

Out of the corner of his eye the youngest son of Elrond saw something silver reflecting in a flash of lightening and without thinking he let go with one of his hands, reflexively drew his leg upwards towards his chest as far as he could, reached behind him with his hand, pulled the small knife that he always carried out of the shaft of his boot and threw it into the deep below.

A scream reached his ears as his dagger embedded itself in Dagnir's chest, the human stared at him wide eyed, the dagger still in his hand and then, suddenly, a part of the weight that had been pulling at the ranger's arm vanished and with a loud clap of thunder the captain of the hunters fell into the darkness, plummeting into the void and surely finding his death at the bottom of the abyss.

The two friends stared into the darkness of the chasm for a moment, forgetting for the time being that Legolas' life was still in danger. As Estel again slipped on the mud, they were jolted out of their stupor and as fast as he could the ranger reached down with his other hand and grabbed Legolas' leg.

He gasped as the prince's weight pulled at his injured arm, making him wince in pain. The archer may by light even for an elf as he had never had a very big appetite, but he was too heavy for Estel's tired and injured limbs. He felt his own warm blood run down his arm and as Legolas moved inside his grip, he felt his arms tremble from the strain and the pain. He knew that in the state he was in, he would never be able to pull his friend back over the edge and onto the safe ground.

Legolas knew it too. "Estel," The rangers' eyes were still closed in an attempt to concentrate on his strength and to block out the pain, but his friend's softly spoken words made him open them and search his friend's gaze. "Estel, it's alright. You can let go."

Denial sprung into the rangers eyes as quick as an elf could shoot an arrow and he shook his head no. Had he not told Legolas only moments ago that he would not let go? Legolas was his best friend, even more; he was his brother, in all ways except by blood. No, he would not let go of his friend. Not if it meant that the elf would die, never.

Tightening his hold on his friend he replied gruffly: "Don't you dare Legolas. I promise if you make me let go of you I will kill you myself." The trembling in his arms intensified and Estel even saw how his blood, oozing through the fabric of his sleeve and running down his arm to his hand, drenched Legolas' leggings and made his hold onto his friend even more precarious than it already was.

Thunder growled above in the dark sky and with it a gush of icy cold rain, flying on the wind, whipped against them. As Estel felt his body slip on the ground and over the edge, they both knew that time had run out, that it was too late. Their eyes met in what they thought was a final farewell and both felt the air pull at them as they fell into the darkness below.

Xoxoxoxo

He sped through the forest, his heart pounding in his chest, fast and strong, his dark hair flying behind him as his long legs carried him past trees and bushes. His sword in his hand, Elrond rushed forwards, dreading what he might find.

After the last human had surrendered to the warriors of Imladris, the elven Lord had sought his sons and found the twins sheltered behind a huge rock, Elladan cradling an unconscious Elrohir on his lap. He had looked them both over while his eldest had told him of what had happened and when Elladan had told him that Estel and Legolas had given chase to the captain, he had felt his stomach churn.

How could they? Why had they not stayed where they were? They would have been safe and secure, away from danger and death, but no, of course not. Why stay where it is safe when peril lurked in the near distance? Although Elrond knew that these thoughts were produced by his worried mind, he felt guilty at having them.

His youngest and the prince of Mirkwood had not gone to do something foolish, but they had gone to rescue the little child and to make sure that the human captain did not escape, only to come back and try again. No, Elrond knew deep inside that his son and Legolas had only tried to help. But as a father he feared for them both.

When he had made sure that the twins and especially Elrohir were not seriously injured, the younger twin having only sustained a bad concussion, he had chased after the two friends, his advisor and friend Glorfindel on his heels. Soon the rain and the darkness of the forest had swallowed them, their footsteps almost unnoticeable on the wet ground.

Rain had splashed at them and the wind had whipped their faces as they tore through the forest, branches and twigs hindering them but never halting them.

Finally, after what had seemed like an eternity to both elves, their steps had led them to the outer rim of the tree line and rushing out of the forest they had seen them. Or at least they had seen Estel, had seen his body, lying in the mud on the ground. They had how he had slid forwards and over the edge of what seemed to be a deep chasm, his legs sliding over the wet grass only to disappear from their view the next second.

With a scream of fear on his lips Elrond flew forwards just as Estel' legs slid over the edge, closely followed by the blond advisor, who had also gasped in fear and then let out a desperate yell. Simultaneously they abandoned their weapons and reached the rocky edge of the chasm, throwing their bodies to the ground and each one of them grabbing one of Estel' legs, stopping his fall.

The abrupt stop of his fall made the ranger gasp in surprise and shock, his hands nearly loosing their hold of Legolas' leg. Through the wind and the storm he heard the voice of his foster father call out to him: "Estel! Tessa ten' amin ion nin (Hold on for me my son)."

Elrond felt how his own body started to slip on the wet ground and assuming that Glorfindel was faring no better, he said: "Glorfindel, on three! Min, ad, neledh! (One, two, three!)" At three, the elven lords pulled as hard as they could, digging their feet into the ground for support and slowly, but surely, they pulled Estel and Legolas up and towards the edge of the chasm.

It took long moments to pull the ranger up far enough so that Glorfindel was finally able to grab Legolas leg and release the human of the weight of the prince. A few moments and pulls later, all four beings lay sprawled on the muddy ground, their tunics soaked and filthy, the rain pouring down onto them and the wind washing over them as they lay there, their chests heaving and their hearts pounding faster after all they had been through, the adrenalin slowly vanishing.

Surprisingly, Estel was the first to move. He rolled onto his back, and then pushed himself painstakingly slowly into a sitting position, only to wince slightly from the pain the movement caused him. There seemed to be no spot on his whole body that did not hurt. Turning his head and with it his upper body into the direction of the forest that lay dark and shadowy behind them, he managed a smile and said, seemingly into the nothingness: "Come here, penneth. All is well now. Have no fear."

And to each elf's astonishment the ranger's words were answered by a soft sniffing sound and then the small body of the little adan child stumbled forwards, towards Estel's outstretched arm and Taran flung himself into the ranger's arms, crying vehemently into the youngest Peredhel's already wet tunic.

Stroking the child's hair gently, Estel whispered soothing words into the boy's ear, finding his father's gaze and smiling softly.

When he had seen his friend slip on the wet ground, being dragged into the abyss by Dagnir, Estel had set Taran down on the grass, out of harms reach. The boy had not moved and when Estel had sat up he had seen that the boy had still been sitting where he had placed him on the muddy ground. It seemed the elves had not seen the boy in their haste to help them. It was all the same. It did not matter, because here they were, safe and sound. And soon, soon they would be home in Imladris, taking up their lives where they had left them to walk down this adventurous road.

Elrond, who watched his youngest stroke the sniffing and crying child gently, trying to soothe the terrified boy, noticed that Estel's hands were not only shaking slightly, but that they were covered in blood as well. Narrowing his eyes and now, for the first time since the fight had started; the lord took a closer look at his son. What met his eyes made his heart ache and he had to consciously stifle a gasp as he saw the bruises on his son's face and the amount of blood that clung to the ranger's clothes.

Moving closer towards his youngest, Elrond reached out and instinctively drew his son into a fatherly hug, feeling the coldness of his son's skin and noticing that Estel stiffened at the touch, only to relax the next moment against his father's strong chest. Rubbing his hand over the ranger's back and murmuring words of comfort, Elrond let his head rest against that of his son, overwhelmed by so strong emotions he had not felt for years.

During all the days that he had feared for his sons lives and for the life of Legolas, during all this time he had imagined the moment he would hold his sons in his arms again and now, as his youngest rested against his chest, he had problems to describe how he felt at that moment, but being asked later he would say that he had felt whole.

The mighty lord of Imladris, in this night more a father than anything else, did not know how much his sons and Legolas had been through and what Estel had had to endure to be injured as he was, but he was sure that, given time, the wounds would heal and the memories would fade to a point at which they would cause mere discomfort instead of pain.

And so they sat there, Estel soothing the child, secure in his father's embrace, Legolas staring at his friend with eyes filled with friendship and relief, Elrond holding his son close and Glorfindel, the golden haired advisor watching them all with a slight smile that lighted his face, as the storm lessened and the thunder disappeared in the distance, the rain reducing to a slight drizzle and the full moon leaking out weakly behind some gray clouds, shining down upon the four.

End of chapter 18

Tbc…. The next (and last sniff) chapter is called "Homewards" and will be up tomorrow.