Elladan glanced towards the rapidly darkening sky. His grey eyes narrowed as lightning flashed, followed by the kettledrum of thunder. Their plans had been changed. Fearing that the orc's trail would be washed away in the oncoming storm, Elrond had reluctantly decided to leave at once.
Elladan could see the indescision that tore at his father's heart, and he sympathized. He too, was torn. Torn between two brothers. He could not imagine what it would be like to be torn between two children. He hoped he would never have to find out.
Surprisingly, Elrohir had been insistent that they leave at once.
The elder twin seated himself beside his brother, pushing his long dark hair behind his ears as he did so. "We will be leaving soon. The warriors are preparing the horses."
"Good." Elrohir did not look at his twin. His eyes were fixed on the turbulent clouds that seemed to fill the sky. Lightning flashed…reflecting within his eyes.
For a moment…Elladan swore he did not see Elrohir, but it was Aragorn. The eyes were wide…frightened…
The image faded as Elladan shook his head, frowning.
Elrohir finally turned to his brother. "Elladan…please…promise you will find him."
The dark haired elf was taken aback at the pleading note in his younger brother's voice. "Of course!" he assured. " Did you expect anything else?" He saw the worry in Elrohir's face. Something was definitely eating at his twin… "Gweston, gwanor nin. I will find him."
Elrohir bit at his lip and turned away once more. A cool wind whipped through the loose strands of raven hair, blowing them across the fair face.
"Elrohir…" Elladan touched his twin's shoulder lightly. "What did you see?" He felt Elrohir tense beneath his fingers. " Is it your dream that disturbs you so greatly?" he probed gently.
"Yes." Elrohir's voice was flat. He would not meet his brother's gaze. "I saw…Estel…" the young elf's voice shook for a moment. Quickly he recovered and continued. "Estel was hurt…was being hurt…the orcs were crowding in…I called to Legolas, but he could not help.
"An orc raised a sword…I…I saw him stab Estel…and Legolas was pulled away." Elrohir's wide eyes turned upwards, taking in the lightning that forked brilliantly across the black clouds. His voice dropped to a whisper. "It was raining." He turned to Elladan slowly.
Elladan was struck by the torment he saw raging in the dark gray eyes. Eyes that seemed to have taken on the very life of the storm itself…
"And then they left him all alone."
0-0-0-0
Elrond watched his sons silently. He could not hear their conversation…but could guess what it was about from their expressions. He sighed.
Estel.
The elf lord's heart twisted within him even as he thought of the human he considered to be his youngest child. He knew that Estel was in danger…was hurt…the ranger needed him…
Elrond saw Elrohir wince as he tried to shift himself into a more comfortable position.
Elrohir needed him too.
He should not be leaving so soon… what if something happened? Elrond pressed his long fingers against his temples, willing the nightmare to end…
What was the use of being an elf lord, he wondered bitterly, when you could not be in two places at once?
A gently hand landed on the dark haired elf's shoulder. He turned, surprised out of his thoughts.
Glorfindel gazed at him steadily. The second in command's eyes were… sympathetic? Understanding? The blond elf lord nodded towards the twins. "Avo 'osto, Hir nin." He tried to smile reassuringly. "I will watch over him."
For a moment, Elrond smiled sadly. "Iston, mellon nin. Iston."
0-0-0-0
Elladan pulled himself onto his horse with a swift heave. As though sensing his master's agitated frame of mind, the animal pranced nervously, whickering in distress. Elladan hastily stroked the long mane and whispered a few words in elvish.
Elves all around him were kicking their heels into their steed's flanks. They were moving out quickly. Elrond gave Elrohir one last look, then turned and allowed his horse to carry him away.
Elladan caught his brother's eye. For a brief moment, they remained motionless.
'Find him.'
Elladan could not hear the words over a booming roll of thunder, but he saw Elrohir's lips move. Another shaft of lightning lit the sky eerily.
"Gweston," he whispered softly.
Another whisper seemed to travel on the wind, winding through the night. A desperate plea for help? A cry to one who could not hear? A name…
"Aragorn…"
As the young elf turned his horse and urged it forwards, the clouds broke, and Elladan felt his heart sink.
It was raining.
0-0-0-0
Legolas gasped as he landed on the muddy ground. The orc who had been carrying him snarled something unpleasant before kicking the bound elf and turning his eyes toward the front of the company.
The pouring rain had not let up through the long night. Indeed, if anything, the deluge had increased. Mud covered the fair elf from head to foot, kicked up by the pounding orc's feet.
Legolas did not even register the fact that he was incredibly filthy. Such things had simply ceased to matter…
A rushing sound filled his ears. Confused, the prince looked up, squinting through the sheets of rain. His eyes widened.
They had reached the Anduin.
Legolas slowly struggled to his knees. His heart sank even as he watched the rain swollen river rush by. He had not realised that they were so close to his home. Once they crossed the Anduin, it was less than a day's journey to the edge of Mirkwood.
Mirkwood…
Cold seemed to slice through the prince's thin tunic. He shuddered. Though the low temperature did not usually bother him, elf as he was,…tonight…
Aragorn's silver eyes stared at him, wide with frightened anticipation.
Legolas choked as the horrible memories swamped his mind. Orchbeck was shouting something from the front of the company, but the elf was not attending. He could see the look on his friend's face as Shaza approached him with that blade…
A hand twisted itself into the prince's sodden locks, jerking Legolas to his feet.
"Here, we're tired of carting you. Walk a little on your own." The orc that had caught a hold of the fair being's hair laughed heartily and gave the elf a shove.
Legolas stumbled, but remained standing. He shot a murderous glare at the orc. "Chebo ber lin ello nin, orch," the prince spat angrily.
The orc in question angrily raised a hand to strike…but was halted by his captain.
Orchbeck grinned nastily at the dripping prince, the rain flowing from his own ugly features. "Careful…careful. If I'm to have my revenge, I need you to be fresh. Wouldn't want you to show up for your father all bruised. It will be so much more enjoyable if he sees us inflict the bruises…and other injuries." The grin widened as an evil glint appeared in the yellow eyes.
Legolas ignored the shudder that desperately wanted to race down his spine. He masked his fear, hardening his features. Blue eyes met yellow…
And they revealed nothing.
Nothing of the pain that tore at his heart…nothing of the sorrow that came from losing his best friend. Nothing of the fear for his kingdom, or for his father.
Mirkwood's heir stood proudly under the pouring rain. His heart in shreds, his mind devoured by worry.
And Orchbeck could not see it.
0-0-0-0
Orchbeck felt his good mood slipping away as he looked at the elf. How could the creature still be so proud? What would it take to break his composure?
Rain dripped from the fair features, sliding down pale cheeks. Blond hair was clumped with mud. His thin undertunic was soaked through, molding itself to his lithe form.
He was weak. Orchbeck could see it clearly. The poison had taken quite a toll on the young elf…and yet for all of that, he seemed to be recovering remarkably well. Orchbeck marveled at it. He had known of elves healing abilities, yet he had never had a chance to witness them first hand. He reached out and roughly ripped the makeshift bandage from Legolas' arm.
Amazing.
The wound was almost closed.
"You're healing quickly," he hissed softly, malevolently. "So much the better." His eyes lit up once more as he thought of the elf's father…and how badly he could hurt the golden king through his son. Oh, how he longed for his revenge. And it would be sweet. So sweet. He smirked for a moment, reveling in dark daydreams, before returning his mind to the present. A scowl reappeared on his face as he focused on the stoic features of the being before him. There had to be something, someway to get through to this disgustingly calm little…a cruel notion sprang into his head.
"The ranger died without a sound," he said quietly. "Will you be as brave? Or…" Teeth flashed in a vicious grin. "Will you cry for death? I must say, I do hope you make some noise before the end. Killing can be almost…boring when your victims don't scream." No reaction. The infuriating creature continued to stare straight through him. He narrowed his eyes and glared at the elven prince. Perhaps it was time to twist the knife blade a little deeper…he leaned in closer to his captive, whispering with the air of one disclosing a secret. "You know, I'm not completely sure he was even dead when we left." The blue eyes locked on him with sudden intensity. Orchbeck sneered slightly. "But even if he wasn't, after a night in this storm, and with a head wound like that…" He shook his head in mock sympathy. "He'll certainly never see another dawn." Ah, at last. A reaction. Slight, but noticable. The barest crack in the stone-like façade. Enough to peer through the wall and see the weakness that lay within…
Smiling inwardly at his success, the captain prepared his final blow. He straightened and shrugged. "Ah, but then again, I suppose you simply do not care. After all, he was only human."
The elf winced, a flash of pain spreading across his features.
Orchbeck grinned evily.
"Let's go," he motioned to the orc beside him. "I want to be across the river before we stop." His smile turned predatory as he gazed at his captive. "Bring the elf."
0-0-0-0
Legolas fell to his knees on the other side of the Anduin, greedily gulping in air. His captors had not untied him for the crossing. Instead they had attached a short lead of rope to his bound hands and pulled him behind them.
Without the use of his arms to fight against the storm swelled waters, the prince was easily knocked off his feet. He had disappeared beneath the flow, only to be pulled upright or dragged for a ways underneath the foam countless times.
Now he lay, choking and gagging on the liquid he had swallowed. 'Interesting,' he thought darkly as he glanced back over his shoulder. 'I didn't think I left that much water in there…'
An orc pulled roughly on the lead, and Legolas staggered to his feet, drained. His weakness was starting to impede his movements. Fighting his way across the Anduin had not helped. All he wanted to do at the moment was lay down and sleep for a very long time…
Sigh no more Pine, till the wind of the morn…
Then again…perhaps he never wished to sleep again. For he instinctively knew that what he had seen would haunt his dreams for the rest of his days.
The remainder of the night passed in a pain filled daze. Legolas walked and walked, his eyes slowly growing more and more heavy, his steps less graceful with every stride. The rain continued to pour down, creating a thick mud that caked the elf's boots.
When his captors finally stopped, Legolas was so numbed to his surrounding he almost walked into the orc that held his 'leash'.
"Rest while you can," the orc pushed Legolas in the center of his chest, sending the elf crashing to the ground. He laughed nastily as he undid the lead and wound it tightly around the prince's ankles. "You probably won't get another chance. Not if Orchbeck has anything to say about it."
Legolas lay still, wanting only to rest his aching body…and more than his body, his aching heart. The mud squelched under him unpleasantly, the rain continued as hard as it had since Aragorn…the elf winced. He hadn't meant to think of that. But now that the thought had entered…it would not fade. It would not disolve into the mists of overwhelming weariness, but persisted, gnawing at him, battering his consciousness and promising to visit him in nightmares should he dare to seek peace in slumber. The horrible picture of his best friend dying cold and alone on this wild, dark night seared before his mind's eye.
Finally, the young elf could not resist the pull of his overtaxed body and succumbed to sleep.
0-0-0-0
Orchbeck looked down at the elf prince's still form and snorted in disgust. He bent, and with a flick of his wrist, neatly sliced a braid of hair free from the golden head. He glanced coldly at the sodden strands for a moment, then carelessly tossed the token to his messenger.
"Remember. Do not get any closer than two hundred pace to the edge of Mirkwood. There will be elven patrols, and you know how they can shoot. Keep your distance and deliver the message. Return as soon as you have done so. Do you understand?" The captain held his subordinate's gaze for a moment, impressing how important this truly was.
The orc nodded and quickly trotted away.
Orchbeck nearly licked his lips in anticipation as he watched the messenger depart. Within a day…no more than two…his revenge would be realized.
Mirkwood's king would suffer. Oh yes. He would suffer greatly.
0-0-0-0
Thranduil paced his chambers with growing anxiety. His son had not yet returned, and the Elvenking was worried.
It took six days to journey to Rivendell with speed. Taking ones time, it could stretch to eight or nine. He knew Legolas enough to assume that while he was with his dear friends, the prince would not be in a hurry to return to Mirkwood.
And yet…
The fair king glanced down at his carpet and smiled wryly. Thank the Valar that elves did not weigh on the ground as men did. He would have worn holes in the rug by this time. Perhaps it was time to leave his chambers…walk outside…wear down the stones of his garden paths for a change.
His eyes strayed toward the large window. The rain still beat against the glass as if it were trying to enter the palace through force.
He sighed. Then again, inside was quite pleasant.
0-0-0-0
Halden shifted slightly on his perch. He was seated quite comfortably on a very large branch, leaning back against the tree trunk. The rain still poured around him, but thankfully, Mirkwood's trees grew so closely together that not much of the liquid was getting to the young elf.
Peering through the leaves surrounding him, the elf could see out into torrent. He smiled softly to himself. Though some elves did not enjoy being posted on the edges of the forest, Halden liked it. The woods were not so dark here as they were near the center. It reminded him of what Mirkwood had once been.
Something stirred, and Halden tensed.
There…something was approaching…The sentry quickly reached into his quiver and strung an arrow. Halden's blue eyes narrowed dangerously as he realised just what it was that was coming closer to his home. An orc! He hissed through his teeth, aiming carefully.
'Closer,' he thought as he watched the creature. 'Just a little closer…'
Three strides before he would come within the archer's ranger, the orc halted.
Halden snarled a dwarven curse. Of course. The stupid little monster had to stop just there… "Come on," he whispered. "It won't hurt too badly, I promise."
"I know you're there," the orc called loudly, his nervous gaze belying his words. Halden almost laughed. Even his own Captains could not find him until he decided he was ready to be found.
If this creature actually could see him…he would eat his own bowstring. Then he would die of shame.
"I bring you a message from my captain." The orc's eyes shifted back and forth, trying to spot the elf he knew must be there. "He wishes to speak to your king."
Halden nearly fell from his branch as he doubled over with silent laughter. This was absurd! An orc speak to Thranduil! Wiping away tears of suppressed mirth, the elf carefully resighted his arrow.
"What do you say?"
Halden rolled his eyes. If the only way to get rid of this nuisance was to answer it… "Surely you jest, vermin. What reason have I to fetch my king for a conversation that can do him no good? Why should your captain speak to the ruler of Mirkwood? Answer me that, or you will soon find yourself with an arrow between your eyes." The elf prepared himself to leap down from his perch and charge the reckless orc.
"I bring you a token!" The creature's voice rose shrilly. His hand stretched out,…and dangling from his fingers… "Perhaps you recognize it. It belongs to your prince."
The sentry felt his heart seize up. A golden braid swung limply in the torrential rain, hanging from the gnarled fingers. Halden swallowed hard. "I see hair," he managed to make his voice cold and harsh. "It could belong to any elf. Or any human."
"My captain thought that you would say that." A glint of triumph appeared in the small rat-like eyes. He withdrew two shining blades from his belt and held them forward.
Halden felt his mouth drop open in shock. He knew those knives. How many times had he seen Legolas draw them? Sparring with young elves in the training grounds…fighting back the spiders…cleaning them meticulously by a campfire with his human friend, Strider…
"You recognize them, don't you?" The orc twirled the blades idly, watching raindrops spatter against the gleaming metal. With a swift move, he thrust the twin knives into the mud and threw the braid down next to them. "Tell your king. It will be in his son's best interest if he comes to this place as quickly as possible. My captain will be waiting."
Numbly, Halden watched as the orc disappeared into the pouring rain.
0-0-0-0
Thranduil leaned against the window and gloomily watched the downpour outside. His fingers trailed over the glass, tracing the paths of water that trickled like tears…
From this vantage point, he could see over the walls into the woods. Dark and shadowy…and wet. 'Just like everything else,' the king thought sourly.
And…moving. Thranduil straightened, his eyes narrowing.
An elf stumbled from the edge of the trees, sprinting toward the gates. There was something urgent in his movements that sent a spike of fear racing through the Elvenking's system. Did this have something to do with Legolas…?
For the life of him, Thranduil could never remember how he managed to get to the gates so quickly. All he knew was that he was sprinting across the courtyard, hearing the guards demanding to know the identity of the elf.
"Edro!" The Elvinking yelled as he neared his gates. Without a sound, they swung open, cutting off the questioning of the guards.
Halden stumbled in, almost sobbing in his attempt to draw in air. Thranduil leapt forwards, catching the young elf as he collapsed. Horrified, the fair king stared down at the sentry. He knew that Halden had been assigned to the outer reaches of the woods, near the Anduin…and it appeared that the warrior had run all the way back to the palace.
"Sire…" Halden's voice was rough, his lungs still desperately struggling to bring in the oxygen he needed. He had pushed himself too hard. Too far.
"Rest," Thranduil supported the elf, taking the other's weight on himself. His heart screamed to know the reason for his subject's condition…but he could not force it…the elf so obviously needed rest…
"NO!" Halden pulled himself upright. "No…time…your majesty…" he thrust something into the Elvenking's hand.
Thranduil looked down at the object, confused.
Then suddenly, realization dawned, and time seemed to freeze around him.
It was perfectly innocent in and of itself…really, nothing that would seem so horrible. But when it was connected with the exhausted elf he saw before him…with the feeling of unease that had been crawling through his subconscious for the past few days…
A golden braid lay curled in his palm.
0-0-0-0
Gweston, gwanor nin- I swear, my brother
Avo osto, hir nin- Do not fear, my lord.
Iston, mellon nin, iston.- I know, my friend, I know.
Chebo ber lin ello nin, orch!- Keep your hands from me, orc!
Edro- Open
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