Disclaimer: Do you think I'd be here typing this if I owned them!?
A/N: Thanks to Sirith for beta reading!!
Thranduil rode through the lower palace gates, hacking at anybody wishing to oppose him. The women and children hiding in the shadows watched in awe at something so beautiful, yet so shaken with rage. The Elven King did not care who he killed, just as long as Legolas was still alive after this tremendous effort of trying to save him.
An ear-splitting scream rang through the still air as Thranduil rode closer to the royal palace. It was one of pure agony. If you had heard it with your own ears, you would have cringed from the mere sound of it. The hidden women and children began to cry out, thinking the end of the world had come. Falacas galloped up to his King when the scream ended. "My Lord, that was Legolas! We must hurry, ere the tide turns on us and it is too late!" he yelled through the haze.
Thranduil froze, unable to move as yet another scream tore through the air, followed by a faint rush of falling water that could only be heard by the Elves. The King walked his horse forward, staring ahead, not blinking, as if in a trance. The water grew louder and louder before it suddenly stopped.
A burly man wearing the uniform of the Haradrim Night patrol strolled down the wide stone steps and stopped in front of the Thranduil's horse. "King Thranduil, I presume?" he asked formerly. The Elf nodded curtly. "Follow me, your Majesty. I will lead you to your son."
The King quickly dismounted and followed the man back up the stone stairs and through the halls of the palace of his enemy. The walls of the passages were intricately carved; some had wood and metal woven in and out of each other. But most were covered with tapestries and paintings of the previous kings and conquests. If Thranduil had been there for a friendly visit or maybe a vacation, he would have loved to sit down and read the history of these people. They once were a mighty nation before they fell to the Dark Side. Saruman most likely had poisoned their minds.
Now, as Thranduil and his three most trusted soldiers (Lumlier, Falacas, and Mandolin) were led deeper into the palace, the water they had heard before started up again. It seemed to come from everywhere: below them, above them, and every side. Falacas leaned closer to Mandolin and whispered, "Do you know where the water is coming from?"
"Va, mellon nin [no, my friend]" Mandolin answered. "But I have a foreboding feeling growing in the back of my mind, and I know not why."
"I think it is Legolas you are worried about," interjected Lumlier. "I have the same feeling, and I do not like it at all."
"This is it!" the man announced suddenly. The group of Elves stopped in front of a large wooden door at least four times their height. "Knock three times. The door will open. As soon as you enter, you will see red marks all over the ground. Follow those marks until they end. You will find what you are seeking." The human turned to the left and disappeared down the dark hall.
Thranduil slowly lifted his hand and knocked loudly three times on the door, just as the man had instructed. The door creaked and groaned while it opened, as if it had dirt and dust clogged up in the joints that held it up. The room looked nothing like Thranduil had ever seen before in a palace, especially in the desert. It was filled with tropical trees, plants and flowers. A small man-made creek ran beside the door, bubbling as it went over the stones. A soft, clear glow lit up the room. It was beautiful.
The image however was ruined when Thranduil looked down upon the ground. The red marks were there, but it was a liquid of some kind. The King knelt down as his soldiers looked in wonder at the scene before them. He ran a finger though the liquid; it was warm. With his panic rising, he brought his finger up to his nose and breathed in the smell of the fluid. It was blood.
"We must hurry," he whispered, but the Elves caught the panic and worry that flowed thick through his voice. The King stood and sprinted down the path that the blood marked out with his kindred close behind.
"My lord, what was that red substance?" Lumlier asked.
"Blood; Elven blood," Thranduil replied. "I'll bet on my own grave it was Legolas that shed it."
He continued on going deeper into the "forest" when the marks suddenly stopped. The flow of water was at its loudest but still nothing could be found but trees. Thranduil frantically searched for any sign of where Legolas could be, but to no avail. He could feel his frustration rising, as his vision became foggy with tears.
"I am glad you could make it, King Thranduil," said a voice that was hidden in the shadows. "The party was about to begin and I didn't want to start without you."
The Elves looked about their surroundings, hoping to find the mystery voice. Fed up with all the guessing games he had had to endure, Thranduil finally said, "Show yourself!" Leaves rustled to his right and out of the shadows stepped Damean and Aragorn.
"Come with me," said Damean. "I believe your son is waiting for you."
Thranduil, Lumlier, Mandolin, and Falacas followed the two humans though an impossibly dark tunnel trees and bushes. They emerged into a long stone hall fill with the Haradrim Army personal. In the middle was a huge empty stone basin; or so Thranduil thought.
Out of no where six guards wrapped the hands of the Elves behind their backs and bound them tightly with a surprisingly soft type of rope.
Thranduil looked at Damean, astonished. "Release me!" he hissed. "Or I shall have your head!"
"Shame, shame, my dear King. 'Tis not very wise to threaten the capture of your son, now is it. Especially when the whelp is near death, thanks to a dozen of my most notable warriors." Damean grinned evilly at the wide-eyed Elf.
The Sindar began to struggle anew but to no avail. He was already weak from worry and battle; the Humans behind him were only hindering his advancement. "Let me see my son!" the Elf commanded. When continued to grin and stare at him.
"You want to see him? Fine, I've no problem with that," Damean said. "But on one condition: absolutely no struggling no matter what you see or hear. Understood?"
The King hesitated, but nodded shortly in agreement. Damean motioned with his hand and the guards led the willing Elf to the edge of the basin. Thranduil could now see that it was actually filling up with water, but since it was so big, it was taking a while.
Suddenly, Thranduil looked upon the mangled form of his son in the middle of the pool. Legolas had been chained to a metal board of some kind. Blood from his wounds could clearly be seen dripping of his body and tainting the water below. The King let out a horrified gasp. He never imagined it to be this bad. The worst of all was Legolas' eyes were closed; which could only mean one thing. "Va [no]!!" the Elf exclaimed
Breaking his word, the Elven King grappled with the guard to his left. He succeeded in breaking nose, but nothing more. Unfortunately, Damean took advantage of this slight detraction to secretly give the signal for a hidden archer to hit the bound Prince. If the Human had been aiming to prolong the agony of the poor Elf, then he had accomplished that, for the arrow embedded itself in the lower chest of the captive.
Thranduil heard the familiar twang of the bowstring and the arrow whistling through the air. But it did not effect him until he saw from the corner of his eye hit his son.
"LEGOLAS!!" he screamed out in despair.
Legolas' blue eyes slowly opened as he moaned. His body hurt all over and he didn't know why. The last thing he could remember was getting an urgent letter from Aragorn, telling him to get to Gondor as quickly as possible.
A sweet, familiar voice screamed out his name, and everything came flooding back. He glanced at his surroundings and he suddenly knew he was going to die. No one would save him. Not even his father who was but ten feet from him. Legolas didn't know Death could be so unfair; he was within the reach of freedom and then it was snatched away.
The Prince was pulled out of his reverie as he heard his name again. He called out, hoping his Father would hear him.
"Ada? Tua amin, saes [Father? Help me, please]!" was the weak reply to Thranduil's booming voice. The King couldn't take it anymore; he had to help Legolas.
"Damean! Release him now! Please!" he pleaded with the human. Thranduil couldn't believe that he was actually begging to the filthy worm, but at this moment, he would walk to Mordor and back to save his son.
Damean stood there with a large scowl on his face; he scratched his chin and pretended to be thinking. He held up his hands and acted out a weighing scale he used for gold. "Give up my favorite play toy," he said while lifted his left, "or keeping him and his father as slaves," he said while lifting his right hand. "I think the latter sounds more appealing to me."
At that moment, Legolas screamed with pure anguish laced within every fiber of his body. Thranduil winced. He glanced over the edge and saw the water spilling over his chest. The blood swirled with the liquid, dying it crimson. The Elven king lifted his nose to the air and breathed. Salt. The one thing that made wounds burn one hundred-fold and become infected ten times quicker. If Legolas weren't brought out soon, he would die from loss of blood.
Thranduil looked back at the patiently waiting Damean. "It is your choice Thranduil," the human said, grinning cruely at the Elven King. "Mirkwood and everything in itor your son?"
A/N: Ai!!! Don't hate me!! I just had to leave off there. I'll get the next chapter to you by the end of the month, if not sooner. I promise!!!!
As I told everybody before, I wanted to know if slash would be okay. I also said the majority of the votes (for or against slash) would win. The winner was yes to slash. But, because I feel really bad for the people who didn't want it, I'll try to make it as non-graphic and as not often as possible. Be warned: THERE WILL BE SLASH!!
Review it you have any questions, comment, criticism or flames.
Cheerio!!