Legolas swallowed hard, feeling the knife's blade scrape against his throat. It was held there very lightly, but firm nonetheless. Orchbeck had been very clear in his instructions. No marks, no cuts. All hope of escape or rescue cut off.
The prince glanced up at his guard. The orc was vigilant…for the moment. Legolas knew that would change as soon as the sun had risen. He hoped for it.
He counted on it.
It was an imperative part of his plan.
The elf shifted ever so slightly, uncomfortable in his kneeling position. He had already been there for several hours, and would most likely remain so until the evening. At his movement, the guard tightened his grip on the prince's shoulder and Legolas sighed.
'Please,' he thought as he felt the orc relax fractionally. 'think of how tired you are…up all night keeping an eye on the nasty little elf…you must be exhausted…a little nap would feel so good…'
A tiny shudder coursed through the elf as he thought of what he must do. He could not allow Thranduil to give the orcs access to Mirkwood. Could not…cold sweat started to form on Legolas' forehead.
Everything was gone. Mirkwood and the elf who ruled it were all he had left to him. He would do anything to save them.
Both of them.
He would fight. He would serve.
He would die.
Legolas knew what Orchbeck intended. The guards had made sure he was well aware of the situation he was in. If Thranduil did not grant the orc captain his demands at once, he would use the prince to break the father. The fair elf knew that Thranduil was a noble king. He would not allow the kingdom to fall for one subject, no matter how dear.
He did not wish his tortured death to be his father's last memory of him. It was an appalling thought.
Even more appalling was the thought of what he would have to do to prevent such a thing from happening.
The touch of cold steel against his skin sent a wave of revulsion through him.
He did not want to die. He wanted to live.
But then, he hadn't wanted Aragorn or the twins to die either, had he? Perhaps some things in life were just not fair...there was no happy ending to some tales, and the prince wouldn't always ride off victorious. He remembered the many tales in elven lore that were so sorrowful. Once, as a very small elfling, he had asked his father why the stories never ended with joy…but with tears. And since they ended with tears, why people asked to hear them over and over.
They are sad, he heard the echo of his father's deep voice in his mind. Because they are true, pen neth. And we ask to hear them to help us remember. In his mind's eye, he could see the sad smile that lingered at the corners of his father's mouth. So we will be reminded that even immortals are not invulnerable…so we will not be taken by surprise when tradgedy strikes us as well as the second-born and all the other races of Arda.
And tradgedy had struck, had it not?
The elf took a deep, shuddering breath and looked at his guard out of the corner of his eye. The sun would rise soon. With the rising of the sun, the orcs would grow weak…lazy…
The edge of the blade reminded him of the horrible choice that lay before him.
Soon.
Dawn crept into the sky slowly, drawing hisses of displeasure from the orcs surrounding him. Legolas closed his eyes and all but drank in the weak light. His elvish soul longed for the brightness…the warmth…though cold did not affect him as it would one of the second born, he desired the sun. He needed its touch. There was something clean about the sunrise that seemed to alleviate the dank darkness the prince's soul was rapidly sinking into. It gave him strength for the action he knew he must take.
Soon.
"Aniron i calad anor," he whispered so softly the orc could not hear. Tears threatened to squeeze past the elf's tightly clenched lids. "Ai, Estel, mellon nin, melethon i calad anor." Legolas drew in a ragged breath as he remembered the feeling of waking in his friend's arms…though he knew he was in danger, he had felt…safe. There was something that had always been so calming about hearing the human's heartbeat…feeling his chest rise and fall with every breath he took.
He would never experience that again…
Estel was gone. The twins were gone. His father and his home were in danger. He was afraid, but that didn't matter. Not anymore.
He would do what he must.
0-0-0-0
Aragorn stirred fitfully in his sleep, a slight frown maring his features. Then with a sudden gasp, the human sat bolt upright on his mat. Sweat stood out on his forehead in great beads, yet he shuddered as though cold.
The sudden movement caused a sharp stab of pain to shoot from his wounds, but the ranger bit down on his lip, stifling any moans. He did not wish to wake his father or his brother, who he knew would be near. Slowly, he pushed himself to his feet, blinking rapidly at the dizziness that followed his rising.
When he was fairly certain that he would not fall in an undignified heap, he moved to the tent flap and pushed it open.
It was dark. But not the darkness of night, rather, the dark before the morning really started. He could hear the soft trill of dawn birds starting their day. The stars were fading, and the moon was already gone.
And something was wrong with Legolas.
Aragorn strode from the tent slowly, willing the pain from his injuries to fade. It didn't, so he ground his teeth together and kept walking. The horses would be nearby…if he could get to one, perhaps he could ride…
"Estel! What do you think you are doing!"
The young ranger only had time to look up, startled, before his brother dropped from a tree in front of him. Elladan scowled ferociously as he straightened. "Why are you up? You should be resting if you intend to travel. If Ada finds out, he'll…"
"We have to leave now," Aragorn blurted, halting his brother's tirade. "Please, Elladan, it's important. We can't afford to waste anymore time."
Elladan's eyebrows drew together in concern. "Estel, what's the matter?" It was not like Aragorn to panic without reason.
"Something is very wrong…we need to get to Mirkwood as quickly as possible."
"Mirkwood?" Now Elladan was completely mystified. "Estel, you are not making any sense…"
"It's Legolas!" Aragorn interrupted desperately. "He is in trouble!"
The elder twin held up his hand to stop the ranger's flow of words. "Estel," he said gently. "I know you are concerned for Legolas, but even orcs would not be so stupid as to waltz into the kingdom of the woodelves. We won't find Legolas there…"
"No!" Aragorn shook his head vehemently. "The leader, Orchbeck, he said that Mirkwood was their destination. Elladan, he knew who Legolas was! He knows that Legolas is the prince!"
Elladan felt his heart drop out of his chest at his brother's words.
This was not good at all.
0-0-0-0
In as short a time as possible, the Rivendell elves found themselves on the trail of their enemies once more. Though the rain had washed away much of the orc's passing, the elves did not find it overly difficult to track them.
Not since they knew what their destination was.
Grim faced and steely eyed, Lord Elrond rode at the front, his sons beside him. Aragorn sat in front of his brother, hands clutching at the horse's mane, too worried over Legolas to argue about being forced to ride with someone. Elladan glanced down at the young ranger and sighed. If anything was a sign of how distraught his younger brother really was, that was it. Estel shifted restlessly in front of him, then spoke so quietly he had to strain to hear;
"Hold on."
Elladan frowned, perplexed by Aragorn's words. Hold on to what? What was the human talking about? He opened his mouth to question his brother, but found it unnecessary as the man continued to whisper.
"Hold on, Legolas. We are coming. Hold on."
Now that he understood, the softly spoken sentences sent a chill through the twin. Why would Legolas have to hold on…?
Without a word, he kicked his heels into his horse's sides, increasing the pace of their party.
0-0-0-0
The noonday sun beat down heavily on the young prince. The orc holding the knife to his throat had long since began to blink and nod sleepily, and Legolas knew that this was the best chance he would receive. He was ready. He wasn't even afraid anymore. In fact, at this moment, in this final second that seemed to stretch to eternity, his only thought was for his father. He ferverently hoped that Thranduil never learned what had happened here. Yet even if he did, somehow the prince knew that his father… would understand. The young elf smiled slightly.
' Goodbye Ada. I am sorry…'
Steeling himself, he lunged forward…
0-0-0-0
Orchbeck glared angrily at the hot glowing ball above him. Oh, how he hated the sun. It made him feel sick and dizzy. Not to mention how hard it was to see against the glare. He wanted nothing more than to lie down somewhere and sleep, but knew that he couldn't. He didn't dare. Not with the elves so close.
Instead, the orc commander strode around the camp, making sure all the gaurds were awake and mostly alert. He saved the elf for last. No reason why he couldn't have a little fun before the night.
Something was wrong. As he neared the elf's position he saw blue eyes dart to the orc keeping a blade against the slender throat. A faint smile played across the fair being's features, and alarm slammed through Orchbeck as he realized that the guard was nearly sleeping on his feet…
The prince's body tensed, as though he was preparing himself for a leap…
"NO!" Orchbeck broke into a run just as the fair being propelled himself against the razor edge…
0-0-0-0
Aniron i calad anor. Ai, Estel, mellon nin, melethon i calad anor.- I desire the sunlight. Ah, Estel, my friend, I love the sunlight.
0-0-0-0