Hello, everyone. I'm so sorry for the delay. I didn't intend to make you all wait so long but a tragedy just struck my family a couple of weeks ago. My granny passed away. She was 89 years old.

Yes, I'm still grieving because I was very close to her. Sometimes I can even hear her voice whenever I sit in her favorite easy chair. I miss her greatly. It has been a difficult period for me, but I've recovered enough to finish this chapter (I was in the middle of this one when she suddenly died).

Like I once said before this, appreciate your love ones while they are still around. You don't know what you'll miss until they have already gone and never return.

To my beloved granny, may God bless you. You are always in my heart.

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Crouching behind the rampart atop the wall of Movrak's keep, Legolas watched with silent rage as the scene unfolded in the courtyard below him. He saw a stout looking man, which he assumed was Movrak the merchant, swagger proudly down the stairs like a stunted peacock. He noticed how Eldarion had troubles to stand upright, cuts and bruises covering his body. He then almost leapt off his hiding place to the rescue when the guardsmen abruptly dragged the boy into the house after Movrak.

What do they intend to do to him?

Legolas was growing extremely worried. Knowing that he could do nothing but wait—for now, that is—he pulled back and sat down on the hard, gritty floor. It was pure luck that no one below had noticed him yet. He thanked the lucky stars that the keep's wall was high and with no guards about. Movrak must be very confident that nobody would be able to climb it from without, hence the lack of security on the rampart.

But Legolas was an elf. Give him a rocky wall with small chinks here and there, anytime—no matter how high it was—he could scale it up as fast as a monkey would a tree. Like child's play, it was easy work for him. But staying still where he was was another matter. Firstly, the heat was close to blistering so that he was sweating like nobody's business under his disguise. He longed to discard his annoying turban, but his golden head would instantly give him away, shining brightly under the sun. Like a beacon, Keldarion had said.

Remembering his brother, Legolas cringed inwardly.

Ai. Kel will kill me. He will definitely kill me this time! No doubt about it.

By now, Keldarion must be insane with worry and anger combined. Once, he had pummeled his younger brother to a bloody pulp for causing him great distress quite similar to this one. Legolas cringed again when he recalled that particular incident, convinced that it would happen again in a very near future.

He had been so focused on following Eldarion that he had forgotten everything else. Now that he had the time think about it, he realized how stupid his action was. Not only had he directly disobeyed his older brother, he had also acted recklessly like a green novice. He didn't know this city, he didn't know the people, he had no weapon to defend himself except for the dagger in his boot, and he even made the mistake of not letting anyone know his whereabouts.

Well, Legolas did speak to Gallard before he left, but that wouldn't help much. He had told the draq that he was going to the bakery, not to Movrak's keep. Nobody knew where he was. He had no back-up and was literally sitting duck. If something went awfully wrong, he had no one else to blame but himself.

His stomach growled loudly, a sure signal that it was due time that he ate. Groaning, Legolas untied the sack from his belt and dug a hand in search of a blueberry muffin. After taking a brief peek over the rampart, he began eating. As hungry as he was, though, he munched on the muffin without the usual pleasure of savoring something sweet. In fact, the food tasted a bit sour against his tongue. His lack of appetite finally won over his hunger. He put the sack away after only several bites, feeling a bit sick to cram anything but water down his dry gullet.

Despondent, Legolas was bending to retie the sack to his belt when something landed near him with a major affair of fluttering wings.

"Bloody son of a…!" he yelped, jumping almost a foot in the air with fright. Clutching one hand over his wild thumping heart and his dagger with the other, he glared at the eagle. "Blast it, Gallard! I could have killed you just now!"

Changing into his human form, the draq crouched there before the elf, grinning lopsidedly. "I knew I would find you here."

Sighing, Legolas slid his dagger back into his boot. "Good. Now be gone, before I accidentally break your bothersome beak."

"Oh, admit it, Legolas. You are glad to see me." Gallard chuckled. He gave the elf a mischievous grin. "Your brother is very, very mad at you, you know."

With a low groan, Legolas turned away. "I can figure that out myself. No need to remind me."

"The last words I heard from Kel when I left him were 'I'm going to tie that imp to a tree and let the ants eat him to his puny brain!' " Gallard was chortling now. "Really, I've never seen Kel so furious!"

"Gallard?"

"Yes, Legolas?"

"Shut up."

That made the draq laugh all the harder. Wordlessly, Legolas raised his hand and smacked his friend square on the forehead.

"Oww!"

"Be quiet! Someone might hear us," Legolas hissed with annoyance. He cautiously peered over the rampart, assured that no alarm was raised to signal their presence, and sat back down beside Gallard.

The draq was rubbing his smarting forehead. "You have a serious self-control problem, you know that?"

"Stuff it, Gallard. We have an even bigger problem here. See that?" He pointed at the great door of Movrak's house. "I saw them drag Darion through there just a while ago. But why the house? I thought they keep slaves in the cells or dungeons."

"Maybe Movrak has other plans for him, who knows?" Gallard shrugged.

"I think I saw him just now. Movrak, I mean. He looks like a toad trying to dress up like a ringwraith. His face was uncovered, and I saw that it's the kind of face that usually gives me the willies. Not a man to be trusted, that one. Surely, he has something foul up his sleeve."

"He is a tradesman, my friend. All tradesmen have something foul up their sleeves," Gallard quipped. "What exactly is your plan? Stay here and glare at that house until it burns to the ground?"

Legolas gave his friend a sidelong glance. "You are so not funny."

"Well, what are you to do then?"

"I'm going to wait, observe the sentry pattern, and figure out any breaks between them. When it's dark, I'll go in and spring Eldarion from this place."

Gallard gave the elf an incredulous look. "Are you dead serious?"

"Indeed I am."

"What about us?"

"Who?"

"Kel and me, silly. You know who." Gallard rolled his eyes. "Are you really going to just bust in there like a demented hero and rescue Eldarion all by yourself? Ai! Hazel and almond!"

"Hazel and almond?"

"They are nuts! And so are you!"

Legolas ground his teeth, holding tight to his rising temper. "Look, I will do what I need to do to save Darion, all right? Even if I have to do that on my own. Besides, Kel is hurt and you are…well, I don't know. You are just not dressed for the occasion. What's important is that I won't let Darion rot in this place even for another day after I've seen how badly they treat him. I won't! I simply won't, and that's the end of it."

Gallard's glare was like molten gold. "Kel was right. You are stubborn and stupid."

"Oh, just get out of my face, draq!" The elf waved him away.

"You should think first before you act, Legolas." Gallard placed a firm grip on his friend's shoulder. "What if something didn't go according to your plan? If you got a plan, that is. What if you got caught? What then?"

Despite it all, Legolas grinned. "Then I can depend on you to come to my rescue."

Gallard sighed. Loudly. "I was afraid you are going to say that."

Patting his friend's hand, Legolas asked, "So, will you come rescue me if something went wrong?"

"You know I would, but…" The draq shook his head. "Look. Let's compromise, shall we? I fly back to Kel and tell him what's going on…"

"Whoopee," Legolas responded without joy.

"…and the two of us will come out with a detailed rescue plan, a lot better than yours. All I ask of you is stay here quietly and don't do anything stupider than what you've already done, like rushing headlong into that house armed with nothing but your hard head, for example. Wait here till we arrive."

"We? Are you saying that you're bringing Kel here?"

"Yes. Believe it or not, your brother is so angry he recovers quickly from his wound. He is up and about, and is ready to break some necks—yours is the very first in line."

"That's great news," Legolas dryly replied, relieved to know about Keldarion's improved condition but also anxious of his brother's impending wrath. "Fine. I'll wait here. Be quick about it, though. Something terrible might happen to Darion if we dawdle about."

"You should learn to be patient, Legolas."

"And you should learn to keep your thoughts to yourself," the elf retorted. "Oh, before I forget. Here. Give this to Kel."

"What is it?" Curious, Gallard peeked into the sack that Legolas gave him. "Muffins! Oh, I love muffins!"

"I thought you love snakes and rabbits."

"Those are main courses. These are for dessert."

"Whatever." Legolas rolled his eyes. "Take the bloody muffins but leave the orange cake for my brother. That might cool him down a bit."

"Fat chance, Legolas. When I left him, he looked ready to eat the furniture!" Gallard clamped the sack between his teeth. Through his muffled mouth, he added, "Remember, wait for us."

Legolas didn't respond but watched silently as the draq change form. Not long after, Hawkeye the eagle flew off, back towards the boardinghouse. Alone once more, Legolas prepared himself for another long and excruciating wait.

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It was already dark when Eldarion finally emerged from the main house. He was unconscious. Two men carried his limp form down the short flight of stairs, across the courtyard and straight towards a narrow entryway next to the guards' quarters. Legolas didn't need to be told that it led to the prison because, only recently, he had seen the group of slaves returning from the quarry. Like a pack of mules, they were herded through the entryway into their pitiful lodgings.

By then, Legolas had already grasped the general idea of how the sentry worked. Every half hour, a couple of guardsmen would make their round along the perimeter inside the keep, with several brief stops at the gate and the prison's entrance to confer with their colleagues, before heading back for the guard-tower near the main house. The tower was as high as the wall, but Legolas was careful enough not to let them see him hiding at the rampart. What's more, the darkness provided a good cover. He just needed to keep his cool the entire time because, in his growing excitement, his elven glow nearly burst out of proportion.

Unlike the town down the hill, Movrak's keep was very quiet during this time of a night. The slaves were all in their cells, and the guards that were not on duty were resting in their quarters. Movrak never came out of his house afterwards, which sat right with Legolas because he didn't want anything to do with that man. Maybe later. Right now he just couldn't wait to grab Eldarion and flee as swiftly as he possibly could.

But where the heck are Kel and Gallard? They should be here already, Legolas began wondering to himself as he peered over the wall to look at the city below. Gas lamps brightly lit the streets between the townhouses and shops. Like any other nights, the people were still busy at their business. From his position, Legolas couldn't see the boardinghouse or the 'Minas Tirith', so he could not determine his companions' whereabouts. Maybe they were already heading up the path, but he was not really sure because his view was blocked by the huge stupid dome atop the main gate.

As another hour passed by, he grew more and more restless. Sighing for the umpteenth time, Legolas' reached up to scratch at his itching scalp, causing his turban to stand a bit askew. He was getting tired of waiting. On top of it all, he was so thirsty his throat felt like burned leather. He needed a drink. Fast.

Finally coming to a decision, he rose to his feet. Bending slightly at the waist, he kept to the shadows as he ran swiftly along the rampart towards an open flight of stairs in a corner between the west and south wall. A man was standing guard at the bottom of the stairs, but he never heard the elf coming. A brief chop to the back of his neck instantly brought the man to his knees in a dead faint. Grunting a bit, Legolas positioned the man until he was sitting up and leaning against the wall so that he resembled a guardsman that was sleeping on his watch.

Satisfied with his handiwork, Legolas was about to make his quick getaway when he noticed the man's water skin. He snatched it from the man's belt and took a very long drink. His thirst quenched at last, the elf sighed gratefully and wiped his mouth, returning the water skin to its unconscious owner. He then made sure that his path was clear before he dashed across the yard towards the nearest structure, which happened to be the stable.

From there, he slipped between the small buildings, passing the smithy and sheds and barn, silently approaching the narrow entryway that led down towards the slave prison. To get there, he had to walk past two guards who flanked the entrance. Not a very good option, as he preferred to be invisible to all eyes.

Thinking quickly, he retraced his steps until he was back at the smithy. Under the thatched roof, the long forge was kept burning overnight. Though currently unattended, someone had taken the precaution to bank the fire, putting some kind of a steel barrier around the glowing embers.

Smiling mischievously, Legolas' left eyebrow cocked upward as an immediate plan brew in his mind.

It was pandemonium not long afterwards. The entire smithy had caught fire, and Movrak's men were rushing about to put it down before the flames could spread onto the surrounding buildings. Hidden behind a nearby shed, Legolas watched in satisfaction as they hurled buckets upon buckets of water to douse the blaze. It was a moot effort, as the smithy was already beyond help. The entire structure crashed, sending a shower of sparks and burning timbers in every direction. The men cried out and ran for cover, but hastily resumed their places to put the fire out.

Taking advantage of the total confusion, Legolas silently edged towards the prison. Like he had planned earlier, the doorway now stood unguarded as almost every man had rushed towards the smithy. Still, the elf moved cautiously with his dagger raised and at the ready, expecting to meet more guardsmen as he slowly made his way down the short flight of stairs.

After what seemed like an eternity to him, the stairs ended and he found himself in a short hallway. Even from here, the heavy stench of misery and despair was strong against his nostril, assuring him that he was getting closer to the slaves—and Eldarion. Even when he nearly burst at the seams from his mounting excitement, Legolas forced himself not to hastened, never losing his caution and awareness as he made his way forward.

The hallway turned left into a cavern-like hall. The otherwise large space had been divided into four cells that had steel iron bars as doors. The smallest two cells were empty, while the largest one held not less than thirty slaves. Men, women and children alike huddled together as they slept. Despite of the great discomfort, none of the slaves even stirred, so deep their slumber was. They didn't realize that an elf was staring at them, one by one, as he searched for a certain dark-haired figure.

Not finding Eldarion among the sleeping slaves, Legolas moved on to the last cell, slightly hidden in the darkest part of the prison. Convinced that he would find the young prince there, the elf tossed caution to the wind and softly called out, "Darion."

No answer.

Meanwhile, above ground, Movrak's guardsmen were still busy dealing with Legolas' fiery diversion.

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"Darion."

The crown prince of Gondor swam from oblivion towards the surface. He thought he heard somebody calling him. But that was impossible. No one here knew who he was, not even his name.

"Darion!"

The urgent whisper came again, causing his heart to beat a bit faster. With a slight whimper, Eldarion struggled to rise but he was still too weak after the beatings he had received. So he crawled on all fours, leaving his secluded corner in slow and painful movements towards the steel bars that kept him prisoner.

"Who…?" the boy croaked. "Who is that?"

A tall figure suddenly emerged from the shadow. Like any Haradrim men, he wore a turban and a dark cloak with a long scarf covering the lower part of his face.

Eldarion stumbled heavily backwards in shock dismay, thinking that he had made a grave error. He seriously thought that Movrak had finally figured out his true identity, and that the merchant was trying to prove it but…

"Darion! Don't be alarmed, young one. Don't you recognize me?"

The graceful flow of elven speech stabbed through Eldarion's ringing ears, bringing him back to his senses. He dazedly watched as the stranger tugged down his cloth mask.

The fair face of his father's best friend grinned back at him. "Hello, Darion."

Thoroughly overwhelmed, Eldarion promptly broke into uncontrollable sobs. He eagerly reached out to embrace the elf. The boy was shaking so badly that his shackles gave out alarming noise as they rattled against the steel bars. Close to tears himself, Legolas returned the hug as tight as he was able to, crooning sweet nonsense while his hands stroked Eldarion's head and back soothingly.

"Legolas…" His eyes wet, the young prince stared at the elf in wonder. "How…? I…I mean, I thought no one would know what happened to me. How did you find me here?"

Smiling reassuringly, Legolas cupped the boy's face in both hands. "It's a long story. I'll tell you about it later. But first, let me look at you. How are you doing? Are you badly hurt?"

Eldarion shrugged. "I've been better."

Legolas winced when he saw the extent of Eldarion's injuries. "What have they done to you?"

"I was forced to work in the quarry."

"Yes, I know that. But this…this looks new." The elf inspected the bleeding cuts all over the boy's faces. "I saw them take you into the big house just now. What happened in there?"

"Movrak, the man who bought me, attempted to buy my affection," Eldarion said in disgust. "He is a pederast, you know. And he wants me to be his consort."

Silence reigned as Legolas stared at Eldarion in great horror. Oh, no. Am I already too late?

Still silently weeping, Eldarion bravely met the elf's eyes head on.

Clearing his throat, Legolas asked with much difficulty, "Did…did you agree to it?"

Eldarion snorted. "Do I look like I agree?"

"No, but…Did he force you?"

Legolas just had to find out. Elbereth knew he didn't want to, but if Movrak did touch Eldarion, then—by the Valar—he would go after that man and castrate him and…!

"He didn't have the chance," Eldarion replied, looking vastly amused. "I kicked him in the balls."

Legolas blinked, and had to swallow down the laughter that was bubbling up his throat. "Good for you, then. That would teach him something."

"Yes, well, that's the second time I did that to him. I'm no longer on his favorite list. They beat me up afterwards. And tomorrow, I'm going to be put to death under The Rock," Eldarion said, looking very bleak.

"I will not let that happen, I swear it! They have to go through me first," Legolas whispered back, fiercely. "I'm here to set you free and take you home."

The young prince started to cry all over again. "Oh, Legolas. I…I've been such a fool. What have I brought onto m…myself? I've caused my family great distress. And father, he…he must be very displeased with me right now. I'm not surprised if he chose to disown me…"

"Shh…Darion." Legolas wiped away the boy's tears. "Now is not the time for such talk. Let's get you out of this place first, shall we?"

Sniffling, Eldarion nodded. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. "You are right. Get me out of here, Legolas."

With a reassuring smile, the elf reached up for the lock. But then he cursed and bopped his forehead against the steel bar with an audible clank, his face grimacing with self-disgust.

Eldarion was instantly alarmed. "What's wrong, Legolas? Are you all right?"

"No, no, I'm fine. It's just that I had forgotten one very important thing."

"What do you mean?"

Looking extremely sheepish, Legolas gave the boy a wry grin. "I forgot the key."

For a moment, the young prince could only blink at the elf, completely astonished. "You…you what?"

Legolas went utterly red in the face. He fiddled with the lock to hide his embarrassment. "I said, I forgot the key," he mumbled. "Now if I could only just know how to pick at this one…"

"You forgot the key," Eldarion stated as he stared incredulously at his surrogate father, unsure whether to laugh or to cry. "And you don't know how to pick a lock?"

It might sound impossible but Legolas grew even redder than ever.

"Stop staring at me like that," he hissed, digging frantically—and unsuccessfully—at the lock with his dagger. "Yes, I know, it's friggin' stupid but I had no time to…"

"Who's there?"

Legolas froze when a meek voice suddenly came from the furthest corner of the cell. Eldarion also went still. He quickly turned around to look behind him.

A small young boy crept slowly forward out of the shadow. Torn, filthy rags covered his thin frame, while his face was smudged with grime. Pale and frightened, he stared wide-eyed at Legolas. "Who…who are you?"

"Err…" The elf was at lost for words. He turned to Eldarion. "I should have figured out you have a roommate."

The prince of Gondor shrugged at that. He went to the younger boy and placed a finger on his lips. "Shhh! Be quiet. We must not alert the guards."

But the little boy's excitement was too great to contain. He clutched at Eldarion's tunic and started asking rapid questions. "Who is he? Do you know him? Where does he come from? Is he here to save us? Well, is he?"

Then, much to the princes' horror, the boy threw himself to the steel bars and tried to make a grab for Legolas' tunic. "Please, sir! Get me out of here! I can't stand this place anymore. Please, sir, I beg you. Let me out. Let me out!"

Legolas jumped back, startled. He noticed that the slaves in the other cell were stirring to the boy's loud cries of plea. To his dismay, they also began to make noise.

Cringing from the din, the two princes stared helplessly at each other.

"Oh, crap," they both said in unison.

TBC…