Elrond gently stroked dark hair away from his son's forehead. It had been a long day. After the removal of the sword, the next few hours were devoted to tending Estel's many and varied hurts. The elf lord sighed softly, his hand now absently checking the bandage that ran around the human's head. That wound had been ugly, but not overly dangerous. Even the concussion was slight. The cuts on his arms, though bloody, were not deep and the myriad of colorful bruises would soon heal. His ribs however…Elrond's face tightened. He did not want to think about how his child had received those injuries. And then, of course, there was the shoulder… 'The only upside to any of this,' he mused, with a touch of dark humor, ' Is that Estel now holds the record in the 'let's see how many stiches Ada can fit into a single being' contest. Elladan will be so disappointed.' His hand returned to it's former position, stroking his youngest's unruly hair. The ranger's breathing was soft and even, but his eyes remained closed, shutting their silver light away from the world.

Away from the ones who loved him.

Elrond's free hand clenched tightly as rage poured through him. It was not only the obvious and horrible wounds that sparked his anger…his fingers trailed over the human's face, tracing the bruises that stood out so plainly against the pale skin. Some were not very fresh, indeed, they were already fading. It gave him some insight into what his son had been through in the past few days.

The elf lord's dark grey eyes burned as Aragorn flinched in his sleep, turning his head away from his father's gentle touch. Elrond withdrew his hand. He did not wish to cause his youngest more pain. A memory flickered through his thoughts as he stared into the pale face of his son. He locked on it, and in his mind's eye saw a charming dark haired toddler smiling innocently up at him from the center of the most disastrous mess the kitchen of Imladris had ever witnessed. Little hands covered with the same flour and water mixture that seemed to be on everything reached up to him, asking the question as clearly as the soft, high voice. "Up, Ada?"

Elrond's small smile faded with the scene from the past, and he was once again looking at the battered face of his grown son. Only…it wasn't.

A light breeze toyed with the tent flap, brushing it slightly aside and allowing the early evening light to play across the slumbering man's face. For a moment, Elrond looked down on his child and saw more than what was there…he saw a face tempered by loss and hardship, aged by care, refined by wisdom, and nobled by kindness. He saw Aragorn, son of Arathorn, the man that would one day take his place as king of Gondor.

The tent flap drifted back into place, shutting out the light.

When Elrond looked at his son again, he saw only Estel.

0-0-0-0

"Estel?"

Where was that voice coming from? Something inside the young ranger said that it was probably none of his business and that he would be better off if he continued floating in the darkness where he was now… but there was something familiar about that voice. It was a good kind of familiar.

He was lying on something soft. And he was warm. The pain was still there…but it had diminished to a controllable throb.

"Estel, can you hear me?"

He wanted to say yes, but apparently someone had seen fit to fasten his mouth closed with some sort of glue. Not only that, but they had added a few lead weights to his tongue.

"Estel, it is I…"

Suddenly, he knew where he had heard that voice before. It was the voice that had comforted him as a young child with nightmares…

The voice that he had heard deliver countless lectures…

The voice that had taught him much of what he knew…

The voice that could be heard any time he was sick or in pain, bringing healing and comfort in its wake.

"Ada," he breathed. His silver eyes flickered open to see the elder elf bending over him, a worried frown creasing the immortal's forehead.

Elrond sighed in relief as he saw his son's eyes open slowly. "Estel. How do you feel?"

"Not….bad…"

The elf lord raised a dramatic eyebrow. "Oh? Really?" He looked down at the young human indredulously. "That is odd. Most people would feel terrible after spending several days in the company of orcs, following that up with a nasty beating and culminating in having their own sword pin them to the ground."

Aragorn felt his mouth curve into a slightly mischievious smile. "I am…just…special…I guess."

"You have a very unique idea of what is 'special'."

Aragorn chuckled and winced at the ache that spread from his wounds as he did so. "Don't make me laugh, Ada, it hurts." The silver eyes moved from his father's face, taking in all around him. "Ada, where are we?"

"We are at the same place where we found you. I simply had this tent pitched so you would not be outside."

Aragorn's eyebrows drew together in confusion. "Elladan?" He was sure he had seen the dark haired elf moments before he had passed out.

"He is waiting outside for me to allow him back in." A wry smile tweaked at the corners of Elrond's mouth. "His constant pacing was wearing on my nerves."

The light words caused only a flicker of a smile to cross the human's face. He was overjoyed to know that Elladan was alive…but what of his other brother? "El….Elrohir?"

Elrond saw the worry behind the ranger's silver gaze and smiled gently, though his own heart pulled at him. He was still worried about the younger twin… "Elrohir is alive. He has a broken leg and several broken ribs as well as other injuries. But he is alive, and he is with Glorfindel at the moment."

A wide smile plastered itself all over Aragorn's face. "Can I see Elladan?"

As if on cue, an elvish voice rang out from outside the tent. "Ada! Can I come back in yet? Has Estel woken?"

"No," Aragorn called back with an uncanny imation of his father's voice. "You are too much of a nuisance."

There was a moment of silence.

"That," came the voice of a very disgruntled Elladan, "is not Ada." The dark haired elf threw back the flap of the tent and entered swiftly, a large grin spreading across his handsome face. "Estel!"

Aragorn's eyes widened as he saw the light of sunset pour in. When he had lost consciousness he was sure that it had been morning… he turned toward his father, a desperate expression spreading across his face. "Ada, how long have I been asleep?"

Elrond saw the fear grow in his son's eyes and realized the reason. "Not long, Estel. We found you just this morning."

The human relaxed somewhat, then began attempting to rise. "We have to go. We have to go after Legolas! The orcs still have him…"

"Estel, calm yourself," Elladan hastened to his brother's side and sank down to his level. He placed a comforting hand on the young ranger's shoulder. "Of course we are going after Legolas. We just cannot leave now. You are still very freshly wounded…and it will be night soon…"

"My injuries are not important," Aragorn waved off thoughts of his wellbeing impatiently. Pushing against his sleeping roll he struggled to raise himself into a sitting position. "We have to get to Legolas!" He gasped as the tent spun around him, and he nearly flopped back down on the mat once more. Pain flared everywhere, and he shut his eyes tightly for a moment to bring everything back under control. Confident that the room would remain still this time and that his head hadn't actually exploded, he reopened them and looked to his father and brother for assistance. "If one of you would just help me stand…"

Elladan tightened his grip, halting the young man's process. "No. Ada, tell him."

Aragorn cast pleading eyes at his father. "Ada…please?"

Elrond sighed. They were impossible when they put him in situations like this. "Estel, I agree with Elladan. We will leave tomorrow, but not tonight."

The human leaned back slowly, allowing Elladan to press him back onto his sleeping roll. "Early?"

Elladan exchanged a look with his father. "Early. We promise."

0-0-0-0

Thranduil's jaw tightened as he saw the pinpricks of torches appearing in the night. The orcs were coming at last. He felt the tree he leaned against shudder and knew that it sensed the approach of evil.

Halden stood beside his king along with the rest of the captains. His hand clenched around the hilt of his sword, eyes blazing as he glared into the night. Troas stood next to him, a grim expression on the elder elf's face. The other captains shifted uneasily, hands going to weapons, eyes searching for a reason to attack the threat that came to their doorstep.

The orcs were close enough that Thranduil could see the firelight glint off their twisted blades. His hands closed into fists.

0-0-0-0

Orchbeck strode forwards, an evil look glittering in his yellow eyes. He could see the elves. He could see their golden king.

Oh…the moment had come at last. He would have his revenge whatever happened. The elf king would let them re-enter Mirkwood…the orc glanced back, looking over the prince.

Or he would see his son die before his eyes.

Die horribly. With lots of pain.

Orchbeck scowled as the young elf suddenly realized he was being watched. Blue eyes met the orc captain's fearlessly, hard and cold as a frozen river. He snarled viciously. It was not right that the elf still did not fear him!

But that would change. Soon. Very soon now. With a growl, the orc turned forward again, just in time to hold up his hand and bring the company to a halt. They were close enough that they could talk, but not close enough to come within reach of the woodelves arrows.

0-0-0-0

Thranduil straightened abruptly as he saw the orcs come to a halt. Where was Legolas? The king's eyes roved back and forth, searching…he barely noticed that the captain of the motley crew was speaking… Troas brought his hand down on the fair elf's shoulder. Startled out of his reverie, Thranduil looked at his captain sharply, then realized that the elf's face was grim and cold. Troas jerked his chin at the orc leader and the Elvenking redirected his attention, finally hearing what was being said.

"We will be allowed back into Mirkwood. Neither you, or any of your people will attack us. If you do this, the prince will not be harmed." The orc chuckled nastily. "Of course, he will have to stay with us for the rest of his natural life…"

Thranduil snarled worlessley, his feet carrying him forward against his will. Quickly, two of his captains seized his arms, holding him back.

"Sire," one of the elves gritted through his teeth as he struggled with his king. "Do not do this! They would kill the prince before you reached them!"

The orc did not seem to notice the brief struggle and continued on as though nothing was happening. "If you do not agree to our demands, we will kill your son." The yellow eyes glinted cruelly in the flickering torchlight. "We will give you until tomorrow night to decide. Do not even think of trying to rescue him. He will have a blade to his throat at all times. If you try to take him, he dies."

0-0-0-0

Orchbeck turned to Shaza. "Bring the elf forward."

0-0-0-0

Legolas heard Orchbeck's voice rising in the stillness of the night. He heard the terms the orc laid out. The fair prince ground his teeth together in frustration. His father could not allow these creatures to enter Mirkwood. That left only one option, and as much as he tried to deny it, a chill ran through him at the very thought.

Shaza pushed through the orcs surrounding Legolas and dug his gnarled claws into the elf's shoulder. With a jerk, he pulled the prince to his feet.

"Aren't you the lucky little whelp?" Shaza hissed nastily. "Orchbeck wants you up front. You get to see your daddy again…" He cackled evily. "Probably for the last time."

Legolas felt his blood run cold. His father… They meant to use him to weaken the Elvenking…make Thranduil think like a father instead of the lord of Mirkwood. He bit his lip as he was dragged forward. He had to hide what he felt. If Thranduil saw that his son was in pain or even how afraid he truly was, Legolas almost feared he would falter…

Another voice broke the night's calm. Deep, and noble it was stretched to the breaking point with rage.

Legolas winced. He had only heard his father sound like that three times before. And none of those memories were attractive.

"You speak of my son, vermin. What proof do you offer that he is even still alive?"

'Oh no,' Legolas thought desperately as he was hauled forward. The prince dug his heels into the soft ground defiantly. 'not like this…' Shaza kicked the elf in the small of his back viciously.

"Get moving you!"

"You ask for proof, elf?" Orchbeck's voice could be heard clearly. Legolas ground his teeth together against the pain as the orcs in front of him parted. Shaza delivered another kick and the fair elf stumbled forwards a few paces.

"Here is my proof!"

As Legolas halted again, Shaza (swearing unpleasantly) took hold of the prince's bound arms and started to muscle him towards the front of the company. This proved to be easier said than done.

Though Legolas was still weak from the poison, he was a better fighter bound than most of the orcs would ever be. Several of the other orcs were forced to step forwards and give assistance as the elf began to struggle wildly, using his feet to deliver many painful kicks of his own.

A sharp blow to the back of his head left Legolas partially stunned, and he was roughly dragged to his feet and pushed forwards. The elf stumbled, stars spinning in his eyes. He fell onto his knees, blinking rapidly. Rough claws caught in his hair, jerking his head up where it was exposed to the flickering light of the torches.

The elf heard someone choke.

His vision cleared, and what he saw made him want to die.

His father stood at the edge of the wood, his long fingered hand gripping a treetrunk so tightly the knuckles were turning white. Agony and rage blazed in the blue eyes. Rage against those that would harm his son…agony, because he knew that there was no way he could make them stop…

"Till tomorrow night," Orchbeck growled as he yanked at the golden tresses. "Then if you don't agree to our demands…" The orc left the threat unfinished. He smiled nastily at the king, showing off broken and blackened teeth.

"Tell him," Orchbeck whispered so softly that only Legolas could hear. He tightened his grip on the prince's hair ever so slightly. "Beg him to consider." The grip tightened even more. "Do it. Now!"

At first, the young elf did not seem to hear the creature. He remained motionless, eyes locked on the figure standing amidst the trees. "Ada…" it was barely a sound.

"So he can hear you!" Orchbeck pulled back hard.

Legolas eyes went cold. His lips slowly pulled back from his teeth in a wild smile. His gaze did not swerve away from his father. "Ada!" His voice was raised, easily heard by all. "Avo ono bar vin i glamhoth!"

Orchbeck did not know what the prince was saying, but was fairly sure that he wasn't pleading for his life…He snarled and hit Legolas across the face, sending the elf sprawling into the dirt. "Take him away!" he hissed to his underlings.

The orcs quickly took hold of Legolas, dragging him back into their midst. The young elf fought hard, still crying out.

His clear voice rose to shatter what was left of the night's peace.

"Dhago hain, Ada!"

0-0-0-0

Thranduil turned away, his eyes clenched tightly shut. His heart seemed to tear itself into pieces within his breast, and he could still hear the voice of his son as it echoed through the woods.

" Dhago hain ilye!"

0-0-0-0

Ada-Father(daddy)

Avo ono bar vini glamhoth!- Do not give our home to the din horde (orcs)!

Dhago hain, Ada!- Kill them, father!

Dhago hain ilye!- Kill them all!

0-0-0-0