A/N: Ok, it would seem it's back to "Apology Notes" for me. I'm terribly sorry that, in the last chapter, the breaks in-between the sections of the story got taken out. The "site" (I shall not utter it's name here…) decided that—as a Thanksgiving present—it would delete them from my story. Sorry about that, I know it was a bit confusing… It also deleted most of my author's note –growls- Which is the reason they were rather short and nonsensical. I DID have nice, good ones typed up, honestly... To read those things, you'd think I had turkey on the brain (which I DID, but that's beside the point –g-).
Well, I certainly hope everything's alright this time…
A HUGE—and I mean HUGE—thanks to Imbecamiel for all the work, and last-minute additions she did to this chapter. –huggles- You're truly a life-saver, muinthel-nín.
See chapter one for disclaimer. Reviewer responses are SENT! (let me know if you didn't get one…I believe I got everyone ;-)
Chapter 12: Dead Give Away
Dagron stumbled on, half in a stupor, and the twins, Dolenil, and Dinerion patiently continued to follow him around every corner. The sky was darkening, and so was the area around them, but their keen elven eyes had little difficulty piercing the gloom.
Elladan had just raised his hand to halt them, when a sound from behind caught his attention. He spun around to find the cause, half afraid that they, the pursuers, had become the pursued. There was no one behind them. He could faintly make out the features of his companions. Dinerion was just straightening up, cringing sheepishly, his mouth forming the word "sorry." Elladan worked hard to quell his frustration. Of all the times to trip, why did he have to do it now?
He glanced around the corner. Sure enough, Dagron had paused, head erect, listening. Elladan turned around, back pressed against the cool stone of the wall. "Eru…" The barely whispered words of frustration died on his lips as his eyes took in a small, furry figure crouched atop a crate beside him. Carefully scooping the cat up, he shooed it out from their hideout in the direction of Dagron. It skittered out across the street directly in front of Dagron, nearly touching the tips of his boots. Startled, Dagron jumped back out of the way. The elves waited for a tense moment before, cursing, he staggered on.
They all exchanged shaky smiles.
After that, Dinerion took a position in the center of the group, his older brother's watchful eyes at his back, and his steadying hand within reach.
But they didn't have to go much further. Not too far ahead, Dagron stopped again, turning to go to the back of one of the warehouses. Elladan motioned to the others to stay, and followed Dagron to the corner, quickly ducking back to avoid attracting the attention of the man who was standing guard at the door. He hurried back them.
"He's gone in through a door in the back." He smiled grimly. "This must be where Acharndil's keeping them… I hope."
"Yes, but now that we've possibly found them, how are we going to get in and find out for certain?" Dolenil asked the question they were all thinking. "And, if they are here how do we get them out? We have no idea how many men there may be in there."
He only asked the questions out of a true desire to understand what his leader's plans were. Already, his mind was sorting through the possible strategies they could use in the situation. Unfortunately, his questions came out sounding rather bleak, adding another layer of discouragement to the situation.
"One thing at a time. We could start by looking at first things first," Elladan said edgily. Those questions were all too pertinent, and he felt he was running low on brilliant ideas.
"Before you two come to blows, you might want to have a look at this," Elrohir stood, one hand on the rung of a ladder that clung to the side of the building. He grinned at them. "Looks like it goes all the way to the roof and, possibly, to another entrance?"
The four of them ascended the rickety ladder cautiously, one at a time. Just as they'd hoped, there was a small trapdoor in the middle of the flat roof. Elladan tested the handle, and their ears were met with the rattle of a lock.
"Valar, don't we have just the luck tonight… So close and yet so far." Elladan glared at the locked door as if were personally responsible for all their trouble. Estel was probably just a heart-beat away and here they were: hindered by a simple lock. He felt his anger would have lent him enough strength to rip the trap-door off its hinges. Unfortunately, he somehow doubted they'd be able to count on stealth after that. "Now what?" he asked, not seriously expecting a reply.
"We might try marching right through their main entrance," Elrohir supplied helpfully. "Or, you might try this?" He held up a small piece of stiff wire.
A smile relieved some of the fierceness from Elladan's features. "So you remembered then, muindor?"
Elrohir handed him the wire, matching his smile with one of his own. "Well someone has to be responsible."
While Elladan began to test the wire in the lock, Elrohir noticed the surprised expressions on Dolenil and Dinerion's faces.
Dolenil watched Elladan, crouched intently over the trap-door. "Do you always carry pick-locks with you, my lord?"
Elrohir's smile widened. "You can never be too prepared, and we've often been in…situations where being able to pick a lock can be extremely useful." In truth, he and Elladan almost always got into situations where being able to pick a lock was extremely "useful". It had become a joke between them: see who remembered to bring the wire this time.
With one last expert twist of the wire, the lock clicked open. Elladan loosed the chains that had held the trap-door shut, and looked up at his friends. He eyed the rusty hinges. "You wouldn't happen to have some oil along, would you El?"
Elrohir shook his head. "Regretfully, no…"
"Right. Well, this rusty old door is bound to make some noise―we'll have to be careful." Elladan grasped the handle and slowly began to pull upwards. They all winced as it shrieked its protest a few times before finally opening. To their sensitive ears, the sound seemed incredibly loud. "Let us hope we haven't just announced our arrival," Elladan muttered. He took a step towards the door, anxious to see the inside of the warehouse. A hand on his shoulder stopped him.
"My lord, it might be best if only one of us went in at first, to scout things out. Perhaps you would allow me?" Dolenil asked tentatively, unused to going against authority even in small matters.
Elrohir shot a nervous glance at Elladan. He knew his brother was worried, and his temper was always unpredictable at times like this. For all their sakes, he hoped that Elladan would accept Dolenil's advice.
Elladan only hesitated for moment, seeing the apprehension in their eyes and, regretfully, realizing that he wasn't the best choice for the mission. He nodded. "Yes, go quickly and see if my brother and Legolas are there."
Dolenil caught himself in time to keep from sighing in relief. "I will be fast, and careful, my lord." He descended quickly down the ladder inside before Elladan had a chance to change his mind.
Instantly, he was surrounded by the suffocating darkness. As soon as he felt the something solid under his feet, he reached forward until his hands met with a rail and then paused, waiting for his vision to more-or-less adjust. It didn't take very long, with the faint glow coming from up ahead. He moved forward, feeling along the rail. It was as he'd guessed: a catwalk stretched from one end of the building to the other. To his left, the building supports rose in thick columns.
He moved forward towards the light. Faint voices echoed eerily around him. As he stepped past a pillar, he finally found what he was looking for. The scene before him was…actually not all that surprising.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Acharndil sat at the table, staring vacantly at the large, three-legged metal container that some of the men had brought in to light a fire in, hoping to stave off some of the early-winter chill. The blazing fire did help considerably, but at the moment, Acharndil neither noticed, nor particularly cared. The stray thought flitted across his mind that he hoped he looked as lost in thought as he felt. The idea of literally taking someone's head off just for talking to him seemed slightly… extreme, even for a supposedly revenge-obsessed leader of hired mercenaries.
At the moment, however "extreme" it might be, he believed his mind and emotions were the perfect state for him to react in just such a regrettable manner. If nothing else, it would be quite unfortunate to set such a bad example for Dagron, after having chided him so often for his own failings in that area… The faintest of smiles touched his lips, before his brief moment of amusement was swept away by the abrupt return of the same thoughts and doubts which had brought him to this state in the first place.
Why, why, why? Why did these thoughts have to come back now, with even greater force than ever, just minutes after he had thought he finally had them under control? Why did Dagron have to disobey his orders, and bring these feelings rushing back, just as he thought he had them safely locked away? For he could not deny that the sight of the ranger, being hurt once more, had made him painfully aware of how little success he had really had in banishing all feelings of sympathy or regret towards his prisoners.
He felt a sudden wave of anger towards both his cousin, and that problematic ranger—more that a little irrational, when he knew very well that he was far more angry with himself. Why could nothing ever go right!
He scowled. Clearly, attempting to control his mind was having little success. It appeared the best he could hope for would be to distract himself, for a time, and hope that the next time such thoughts recurred he would be better equipped to handle them. Even at that moment, he recognized the utter futility of such wishes, but nevertheless, he leaned back in his chair, staring into the darkness at the top of the building as intently as if the power of his gaze could call forth some convenient distraction, just to give his tired mind a break.
Acharndil stiffened, suddenly. There, in the midst of the blackness of the ceiling, a small patch of light appeared suddenly. It wasn't much, a small hint of starlight so insignificant he would certainly not have noticed it if he hadn't happened to be gazing so closely at that particular spot at that particular moment. Indeed, for a second he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, but even now when he looked at it steadily, it glinted back, just as steadily, a slightly brighter patch of darkness in the overwhelming black above him.
What on earth…? A smile began to tug at the corners of his mouth as an explanation occurred to him. Were it anyone else he was considering, it might have been a very unlikely one, but as it was… It appeared the Peredhil twins might have come for their brother even more quickly than he had expected. Even if it were not his prey, but some other intruder that had discovered his lair, this was something that needed to be dealt with immediately.
Turning slowly, so as not to attract undue attention, he looked towards the corner where Kadrin still sat, nursing his wounded shoulder—as well as his even more damaged pride. Catching the assassin's eye, he called him over with a slight wave of his hand. Thankfully, the man seemed to sense the urgency of his request, and came without protest, if not with an entirely agreeable manner. However, when Kadrin had heard his employer's quickly whispered instructions, Acharndil was relieved to see all traces of sullenness disappear beneath the sparkle of anticipation that lit up the killer's eyes. With a quick nod of understanding, Kadrin slipped away, as unnoticed as one of the many shadows that filled the warehouse.
Maintaining his casual attitude, Acharndil called out softly to his cousin, who was sulking some distance away. "Dagron, come over here for a moment, will you?"
Muttering and scowling none-too-subtly, Dagron complied.
Pretending not to notice, Acharndil forced a smile onto his face, as he continued to address the man. "Cousin, I really must apologize to you." Seeing he had captured Dagron's interest, he continued. "I fear that earlier I spoke to you far too harshly. You must forgive me, Dagron. I wasn't feeling well just then, and I fear I took it out on you. You have really been an incredible help to me, and I am truly grateful to you." Forcing himself to utter all these lies in a pleasant tone was taking its toll on him, and he saw that he was beginning to lose some of his cousin's interest, so he cut to the point. "And to demonstrate that gratitude to you—and prove that I really am sorry for my words—I've come to a decision." He forcibly shoved aside the stab of guilt and remorse that struck at him, resolutely carrying on with his plan. "Until I say otherwise, you may do what you like with the elf and the ranger, so long as you don't do anything permanent to them just yet."
It was truly a struggle not to show the disgust he felt at the hungry, malicious, sadistic look of pleasure that lit up Dagron's face at that pronouncement. Kadrin, he could actually respect, even despite all that he had done and become. But Dagron… Dagron was a different matter entirely.
Steeling himself, he turned to watch as his cousin hurried over towards the prisoners. If he was going to allow this, not turning away from the sight of what he was putting two innocents through was the very least he could do.
The sad, terrible irony of the situation was far from being lost on him. So, here we are again, Ranger. Once more, I am forced to use you—and now your friend as well. Both to draw out your brothers, and to prove to myself that I am not so weak-willed as my treacherous emotions would make me. He sighed slightly. And in so doing, all I manage to prove is how much of a coward I really am.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Elrohir laid a hand on his brother's shoulder. "I don't think pacing back and forth is going to bring Dolenil back any faster."
Elladan ran a hand over his face and retorted wearily, "It might. You never know."
Dinerion stood stiffly nearby, doubtless worried that if he so much as moved he'd bring the whole roof down. Only his eyes moved, searching the dark hole in front of him for the return of his brother.
Their worried vigil was soon rewarded, as Dolenil emerged from the trap-door.
"I take it by the look on your face that you have bad news?" Elrohir asked, feeling he all ready knew the answer.
"Well, my Lord, it would seem that nearly any news I could give today would be bad, or at least mixed. No, the Lord Estel and Prince Legolas did not miraculously escape. They are as of yet still prisoners. But yes, we have found them."
Elrohir and Dinerion sighed in relief―Elladan was all ready putting his foot on the first rung of the ladder.
"El wait!" Elrohir called him back somewhat frantically, trying desperately to keep his voice to a whisper. If Elladan decided he was going to rescue his little brother, then he would most assuredly do just that. Or attempt it and get them all killed trying, which was more likely. Fortunately, Elladan hadn't reached the point where he wouldn't listen to reason―yet.
"What?" He asked impatiently.
"Don't you think we need a plan?" Elrohir shot back somewhat tersely. In general, he found his brother's reckless and impulsively protective nature towards his loved ones endearing. Now was not one of those times. With Dolenil refusing leadership, he was beginning to feel the load of being the only rational leader.
Elladan scowled and was about to suggest a plan―namely one that didn't involve waiting―when he noticed the overwhelmed expression on his brother's face.
Eru, I'm doing it again, aren't I?
He flinched at his own thoughtlessness.
It wasn't the first time he'd ignored logic and careful planning in favor of taking instant action. It wasn't the first time he'd come close to dragging Elrohir into danger, either.
When he opened his mouth at last, it was to say carefully, "Of course, muindor, you're right."
Elrohir easily read his brother's face, watching emotion after emotion flicker through his eyes. To his relief, he seemed to settle, more or less, on a rational note.
Seeing the small war of emotions was over, Dolenil finally added his voice. "Do you have any plans, Lord Elrohir?"
Elrohir tried not to show his discomfiture. "Well, not exactly…" He thought for a moment. "Only, I don't think it best that we all go in at once. Acharndil has proven his ingenuity before, and I'd feel much better if I knew there was back-up for whatever plan we decide upon."
Dolenil nodded. "My lord, when we spoke with him shortly after Prince Legolas' disappearance, the head of the Wine Merchants' Guild, Eathol, offered the assistance of himself and a number of men should we need it. Perhaps it is time to redeem that promise? It was too dark down there for me to see clearly, and therefore I can only estimate, but there could easily be a couple dozen men down there. We may need more help. As you said, Acharndil was well prepared last time, we can't afford to underestimate him. Two of us could go in now, and the other two go back and ask Eathol to send reinforcements." He looked at the ground, feeing inexplicably awkward voicing him own ideas so boldly. He was suddenly painfully aware of how long he'd been talking. "It's not the best plan," he added almost apologetically. "and the man may refuse us, or we could get lost trying to find our way back, but―"
Trying to cover a smile, Elrohir interrupted. "I think it's a brilliant idea, Dolenil. You think this merchant will really give us his aid?"
Relieved, Dolenil relaxed slightly. "I can not be certain, my lord, but he certainly seemed to be sincere in his offer at the time. Of course, it is always possible that he may have thought better of it since then… But I really think it's our best chance."
Quelling his feelings, Elladan tried not to sound too impatient. "Yes, but who is to go, and who is to stay?"
It was Dolenil's turn to try and hide a smile. It was quite obvious that if Elladan wasn't allowed down the trap-door soon, they'd all be treated to the sight of a hyperventilating elf lord. He decided it was an experience he'd save for another time.
Rousing all his diplomatic skills, Dolenil began, "As far as stealth goes…" His voice trailed off as he looked pointedly at Dinerion, who looked down at his feet with a slight flush. He put a hand on his brother's shoulder in an attempt to alleviate some of the embarrassment of the insinuation, before continuing. "If neither of you object, I think we will go."
The twins smiled their gratitude, knowing just how much Dolenil was giving up. They knew how much he disliked interacting with humans―much less asking them for help. He would be surrendering his pride, as well as the chance to personally attempt his prince's rescue.
Returning their smiles with a slightly apprehensive one of his own, Dolenil nodded decisively. "Right then. The sooner we get started, the faster we can return." He started to turn, then hesitated. "My lords, please, just… Be careful."
Elladan's reckless grin was something less than reassuring. "Of course. When have we ever not been?"
Dolenil refrained from answering that particular question. He only hoped he hadn't just made a terribly stupid decision.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Elladan and Elrohir felt their way across the rickety catwalk, keeping their eyes on the light emanating from towards the far end of the building as they moved from pillar to pillar.
"Careful," Elladan hissed. "some of the boards are loose."
"Or completely gone," Elrohir added under his breath, grabbing onto one of the railings to catch his balance again, after narrowly missing a hole where one of the boards had rotted through.
The light beneath them grew and, as they rounded a pillar, they looked down between the crates, which were arranged into tall stacks throughout the warehouse.
"Estel…" Elladan breathed, partially with relief, and partially with renewed worry.
Elrohir nodded. "Yes, and Legolas. Dolenil was right: we've found them at last."
Elrohir was pleasantly surprised to find that his brother had indeed gained control of his impulses. True, Elladan's hand was gripping the rail as he if could somehow wring Dagron's neck from this distance, just by squeezing the unoffending piece of wood, but he really couldn't be blamed. After all, at the moment he was feeling rather inclined towards violent actions himself, as he watched Dagron slink towards the prisoners.
"I wonder how long it will take them to get there and back," Elladan whispered, his choke-hold on the railing increasing. "It had better be quick. If that monster…"
Elrohir laid a hand on his brother's clenched fist encouragingly. "I know, El."
They could both feel a nauseatingly familiar sense of anger and fear creep over them as Dagron stooped in front of Legolas.
TBC…
Well there 'tis. I think I might start posting on Fridays… Lately, I never can foretell what Saturday may bring (either it's extremely busy, or extremely slow). In any case, next chapter won't be up any later thanSaturday ;-)
Since I'm trying out the new reply system on here, I'd appreciate it if those who have accounts would sign when reviewing—it makes things a lot easier. Not to worry though, if you don't have an account, or aren't signed in, I'll still send a response if you leave your address :-)
Review if you have the time—I'd love to hear what you thought of the chapter! -blinks- Wait a minute, I suppose you're all going to tell me THIS is a cliffy? Hmm... -smiles innocently- Would you believe me if I said...I'd forgotten about it? No, I thought not.