Elrond drew his horse up sharply. The elves behind him halted as well as they saw the elf lord stop.
"What is it?" Aragorn spoke for the first time since they had crossed the Anduin. His voice was soft, barely above a whisper, but laced with fear and worry.
"That sound…" Elladan's eyes narrowed dangerously. He could hear the noise that had alerted his father. Everything in him wanted to leap from his horse and charge forwards as quickly as possible.
"I can not hear anything," the young ranger twisted in his seat so he could look at his brother. "What is it?"
"A whip." Elrond's deep voice cut through the night, shaking with rage. Without another word, the elf slid from his horse, signaling the others to do the same. His warriors obeyed without hesitation, drawing their weapons silently as they followed their lord. The elves moved swiftly through the night, their light feet making no sound against the ground
"No, Estel." Elladan put up a hand, halting his younger brother as the human moved to join the Rivendell elves. "Stay here."
The dunadan raised an eyebrow incredulously. "You must be kidding."
"I am not." The young elf lord raised a hand again to halt Aragorn's protests. "You are in no condition to fight. Look at you! You can hardly stand on your own two feet!"
Aragorn scowled, but did not bother to dispute the validity of that statement. It was true, he was wobbling back and forth a bit where he stood… Unable to argue with his brother, he settled for glaring at the ground.
Elladan sighed in frustration. "Estel…promise me you will not follow us."
The young human kept his eyes stubbornly fixed on the earth between his feet. Glancing at their swiftly disappearing companions, Elladan stepped closer to the ranger and gripped his uninjured shoulder. "Estel, please. Promise me?" Silver eyes finally met his gaze, and Aragorn sighed, jerking his head in what could possibly be interpreted as a sign of reluctant acquiescence. Or he was attempting to shake his hair out of eyes. Or get rid of a pesky insect. Or anything else that was not actively agreeing with his unbearably overprotective older sibling. The elf smirked slightly. "Nice try. I want you to give me your word that you will not move from this…What?" The man had suddenly held out his hand.
"Give me my sword," he replied, his face impassive.
Alarm bells went off in the dark haired elf's mind. "Why?" he asked suspiciously.
"Brother," the young ranger put on his most condescending look. "Should the orcs come this way I will be completely defenseless. Just leave me my sword, and I promise I will not get into any trouble."
Though it sounded perfectly logical, there was a tremor of half-truth hidden beneath the words. Elladan knew it. He groaned to himself. Unfortunately, his brother was right. Should any orc happen to break free and head in this direction undetected, the human would be without the means to defend himself. Trying hard not to think that he was doing something incredibly…stupid, the elf pulled his brother's blade from his own belt and placed it into the ranger's upturned palm. "See you soon. Try not to get killed, and for the love of the valar stay here."
Aragorn smiled, his silver eyes wide and innocent.
'Funny,' Elladan thought sourly as he turned away and hurried after his father. 'Estel looked just like that the day he left snakes in my bed…'
Aragorn watched his brother go and his smile deepened. 'Technically, I never said I would not follow them…'
0-0-0-0
He wanted to scream. But he could not. The horrible sting of the salt had robbed Legolas of breath. Instead, tears stood in his eyes as a silent testament to his pain.
Orchbeck saw the drops of liquid and hissed in excitement. He slowed the motions of his gnarled hand, grinding the salt almost lethargically into the bleeding welts. Prolonging the golden prince's agony.
And with his agony, the agony of his father.
Orchbeck laughed softly to himself. It was all so…perfect. Yes. Everything had fallen into place just the way he wanted. Here was revenge so sweet he could taste it. Of course, he still desired to hear the prince scream…but what was the hurry? He had all the time in the world. In the meantime…he glanced over his shoulder, smiling evilly as he saw the fair king's struggles to free himself from his captains.
Hearing the choked gasps that came from that direction was almost as good. He paused for a moment, allowing the tension to build. A flicker of confusion danced across the young elf's face as the goblin stepped back.
Surely he could not be finished so quickly…
Orchbeck saw the myriad of emotions that swirled within the blue eyes. Confusion…frustration…anger…grief…pain…and his very favorite. The slightest trace of fear. It made him want to throw his head back and howl with laughter. His soldiers cheered him on, their voices loud and harsh, crudely breaking the stillness of the night. They were betting amongst themselves. Betting on how long the elf would remain silent.
It was music to his ears.
Blond hair hung around the prince's face in tangles, hiding his features as he bowed his head in exhaustion. His arms trembled with the strain that was placed on them. The long bloody lash marks stood out clearly against the pale skin, crusted with the salt Orchbeck had recently ground into them.
It was one of the most beautiful things that the orc had ever seen.
0-0-0-0
Legolas raised his head wearily. All he could see was Orchbeck. The orc captain stood before him, blocking out what the elf prince knew would be the last view of his home he would ever see. His arms were screaming in pain once more, but he simply could not find the strength to stand. The salt burned at the lash marks still…he was hard pressed to stay silent now that he could breathe again.
Orchbeck reached toward him and the prince had to force himself not to flinch away. The clawed fingers stroked his bruised skin almost gently…Legolas could not repress the shudder of revulsion that shook his frame.
Orchbeck laughed aloud. "Don't like that, do you?" he trailed his nails slowly over the elf's cheek, chuckling again as the fair being tried to turn his head away. Stepping back a pace, the orc drew his sword slowly, making sure that it was clearly visible to the elves within the trees. With a cruel smile, he placed the tip of the twisted weapon against the fair prince's strained arm.
Then he started to push…very…very…slowly…
0-0-0-0
Aragorn panted softly, trying desperately not to let the sounds of his labored breathing be heard by the elves around him. The Rivendell elves were moving swiftly, weapons gleaming in the light of the stars. They were near their destination…
A sharp stabbing pain lanced across the ranger's injured ribs, reminding him that he really should not be running at all. He ground his teeth together hard. He had to ignore the pain. Legolas needed him.
Elrond and Elladan led the group, both pairs of grey eyes dark with anger.
Aragorn decided to remain at the back, thus ensuring that his family would at least not spot him.
'Decided!' shrieked a small voice inside his head, before breaking into raucous laughter. 'You are barely keeping pace as it is! Even if you wished to move to the front, you would be unable!'
Aragorn snarled testily, demanding the voice remain silent. He moodily twitched the hood of his cloak a little lower, concealing his features in complete shadow. Ahead of him, the elves were slowing…
The ranger slipped in among them as they halted completely. As swiftly as he could, he wormed his way through the group until he was directly behind his brother.
He could hear voices…a horrible cruel voice was speaking…Aragorn leaned to the side, peering around Elrond's eldest. What he saw would be forever branded into his mind…
0-0-0-0
"Still no scream for me?" Orchbeck gave his blade a little wiggle.
Legolas bit back a moan. The sword had passed through his arm completely some time ago, and now the orc was amusing himself by giving it a jerk or a tap every so often.
Receiving no answer to his question, the goblin shrugged and turned away, as though he was bored…
…only to spin back with lightning speed and rip the blade free.
The short broken cry of the young prince echoed into the night.
0-0-0-0
"NO!"
Thranduil was fighting his captains hand and foot now, desperate to reach his child. Troas gasped as a well-aimed elbow caught him squarely in the solar plexus. The elf's air shot from his lungs in a 'whoosh' as his hands fell free. Another elf cried out as the king's fist connected with his jaw.
For a moment…it seemed as though he might actually break free…
0-0-0-0
Elrond felt rage explode within him. He raised his sword, opening his mouth to order the Rivendell elves to charge…only to freeze as a figure in a dark cloak shot past him.
'Elbereth…no!'
"Estel!"
0-0-0-0
"Now that's more like it!" Orchbeck smiled evilly as he gazed at the red liquid dripping from his sword. "Took you long enough." He swung the blade in a lazy circle, spattering the panting elf with his own blood.
Legolas did not respond. His head was bowed with disgust, heart breaking as he heard his father's struggles. Tears collected in the fair prince's eyes to fall glittering down his cheeks.
He simply did not care what happened anymore…
The orc captain felt a cruel grin spread over his features as he looked down on Mirkwood's heir. It was almost exactly the way he imagined this…The golden prince: Weak. Broken. The King: suffering, all hope ripped down around his pointed ears. It was wonderful.
He pulled his sword into a stabbing position and his grin grew even wider. "Let's try for another one, shall we?"
0-0-0-0
Aragorn's ribs screamed as he pelted towards his friend. With a fierce cry, the ranger thrust himself between the elf and the orc, countering the blow aimed for the prince.
Unfortunately he was weak…still too weak…
0-0-0-0
Legolas blinked in confusion. One moment he was facing the prospect of more pain…the next he was staring at a pair of crossed swords… A cloaked figure held the orc's blade at bay…but Legolas could tell that he would not be able to for long… The stranger's sword glimmered in the light of the orcs' torches… The elf felt a jolt of adrenaline run through him. That sword…he had last seen that particular blade glinting in the reflected brightness of lightning…
"Aragorn…"
0-0-0-0
Though surprised, Orchbeck responded remarkably well to the sudden appearance of the cloaked being. He pushed hard, and to his shock, his opponent fell backward, apparently unable to stand the pressure being put on him. As he hit the ground his hood slid back away from his face. Dark strands of hair fell across his forehead.
Silver eyes gleamed in the torch's light…
Orchbeck gasped. It couldn't be! There was no way! He watched in a mixture of fear and bewilderment as the young ranger he had thought dead slowly rose to his feet. The very sword that had been used to pin him to the ground hung loosely from the human's fingers, the tip of its blade digging into the dirt. With a great effort, he raised it, settling himself into a fighting stance.
The orc narrowed his eyes. This man was supposed to be dead. Orchbeck swung his sword up swiftly and stepped forwards. Time to finish this…
0-0-0-0
The elves of Mirkwood froze at the sight of the young ranger, and for a moment, one brief moment, their attention was not on their liege.
One moment was all Thranduil needed to break free of their hold.
0-0-0-0
"Lacho calad! Drego morn!"
Their ancient battle cry ringing in the air, the Rivendell elves flew across the ground toward their foe. Elrond led the charge, Elladan at his side. Together, the dark haired elves raced forward, their swords dealing swift death to any orc that stepped in their path.
0-0-0-0
Caught off guard by the sudden attack, the orcs panicked. Many tried to flee towards the great trees of Mirkwood, only to meet the elves racing after their king.
0-0-0-0
Orchbeck snarled as he saw his horde start to disappear before his very eyes. Where had these elves come from! His yellow gaze fell on the ranger, hate almost burning a neat hole through the man's skull. The human had something to do with this…he knew it! Before he died this night he would make sure that he was not the only one! At least two more would join him…
This human and the golden prince.
With a howl, the orc leapt at the weakened man…
…and was brought to a very sudden halt as a strong hand wrapped itself around his neck.
A violent jerk spun the creature around.
Orchbeck choked and gurgled as he stared into the face of his most despised enemy. A feral sound somewhere between a growl and a snarl issued from the Elvenking's throat as he slowly tightened his grip and lifted the orc into the air.
Desperately, the orc captain swung his sword, striking deeply into Thranduil's shoulder.
Blood flowed freely, staining the king's tunic.
He did not even seem to notice. With a flick of his free hand, the fair elf pulled a dagger from his belt.
Moments before the blade found it's way into his body, Orchbeck wondered for the first time if this whole thing had not been a very bad idea…
0-0-0-0
Thranduil drove the dagger home fiercely, plunging it in again and again until the orc's limbs ceased their thrashing. With a hiss of disgust, he threw the carcass to the side.
Though he longed to join his warriors and rain down vengeance on the creatures that had tormented his child, the king restrained himself. There was something even more important that he needed to attend to at the moment.
His blue eyes fell on Legolas' sagging form and the ranger's desperate attempts to untie the young elf.
His son needed him.
0-0-0-0
Elrond whirled to one side; his sword slicing through the air in a deadly arc as it took the life of the orc before him. Rage pumped through the elf lord with the force of a hurricane. These monsters had harmed his children!
Another orc fell at his feet.
The dark haired elf's glow burned with a ferocity that struck his enemies' hearts with terror…conquering them before his blade came within a foot of their worthless hides. The orcs ran from the fury of the Lord of Imladris, seeking escape, and finding only other blades to take their lives.
Elladan fought alongside his father, his teeth set in a snarl that would have sent a Nazgul running. Part of his rage was directed at the orcs for the harm they had inflicted on himself and his brothers as well as their friend. The other…
The young elf lord caught sight of Aragorn for a brief moment. His eyebrows drew together fiercely. That young fool! Idiot! His sword swung underneath the blade of an orc, driving up into the creature's ribs. Drawing it out swiftly, he slashed at another of the goblins that had tried to run past him. Black blood dripped from the twin, covering his arms from the elbows down. His grey eyes darkened as he thought of his younger brother being caught in this conflict. The child could not even stand firmly! How on Arda did he expect to defend himself!
Another orc fell to the young elf's sword. "Eru," he whispered as he swung at his opponents. "Keep him safe…so that I may kill him myself…"
0-0-0-0
Thranduil hastily cut the bonds around Legolas' wrists, catching his son as the young elf fell forward. He looked absolutely horrible. Blood dripped steadily down his arm, flowing freely from the most recent wound the orc had inflicted on him. Blond hair fell across his pale face in tangles. Bruises and whiplashes covered almost every inch of the prince's exposed skin.
"Legolas…" Thranduil sank to the ground, holding his son as tightly as he dared, unwilling to inflict more pain.
"Here, sire," Aragorn whipped off his cloak and hastily pressed it to the bleeding gash on his friend's arm.
Legolas looked up at his father, blinking slightly in confusion. "Ada?"
"I am here ion nin," the Elvenking said softly. "You are safe. Nothing will harm you now."
The elf prince shook his head wearily. "I thought…I thought I saw Strider…"
"Here," Aragorn moved so that he would come into the elf's line of sight. "Here I am, mellon nin."
Blue eyes widened. "You are alive!"
Aragorn smiled widely. "The observations you elves make will always leave me in awe."
A spark of joy lit the young elf's eyes as he gazed at his friend in silence. What did it matter if he was hurting beyond all belief? Aragorn was alive! Alive…
"My brothers live as well, Legolas. We are all fine." Aragorn ignored the almost identical incredulous looks shot him from the king and his son, and pressed his cloak down firmly against his friend's wound. He glanced down at the growing stain and grinned. "You will owe me another cloak."
Thranduil shook his head in astonishment at the young ranger. It never ceased to amaze him…he could see the worry that radiated from the human's eyes. Strider was deeply concerned over the well being of Legolas…yet he would always joke when things became serious…he would always try to lighten the moment…
Legolas winced at the pressure.
"I am sorry," Aragorn said softly. "There is just no other way…"
"Iston," the elf gritted between his teeth.
"Your highness," Halden approached the small group. The young elf was spattered with black blood, his sword held loosely at his side. "The orcs have all been killed." The young warrior's eyes turned toward his friend and clouded with worry. "Legolas…you look horrible…"
A weak laugh forced itself between the elf prince's bruised lips. "Thank you…I think…"
"Estel!" Elrond and Elladan hurriedly approached the young ranger.
Aragorn sighed with relief as he watched his father draw near. Though he was a very skilled healer, he was weaker than he cared to admit. His ribs and shoulder throbbed unmercifully, reminding him that he was far from healed. Besides, Elrond knew more than he ever would.
The ranger gratefully slid to one side as the elf lord knelt down and ran a knowing eye over the Mirkwood prince. The Lord of Imladris spoke softly to Thranduil, but Aragorn could not focus on the words. His initial rush of adrenaline was fading, draining what little energy he had.
Strong hands fell on his shoulders, and the ranger looked up into his brother's eyes, flinching inwardly at the look of stern disapproval he was receiving. He smiled weakly. "See? No trouble. Not even a scratch…" He broke off as Elladan quickly came down beside him, enfolding him in a tight hug. "Never do that again!" the young elf hissed as he pulled back slightly, allowing his younger brother to lean against him.
Aragorn sighed softly as a feeling of peace enveloped him. He could feel his consciousness being pulled away…he was heading towards the sweet sleep of utter exhaustion…
"Tiro…"
Legolas soft voice jerked Isildur's heir back to wakefulness in a heartbeat. His silver eyes were wide, meeting Legolas' anxiously…
But the elf's gaze was not worried. He smiled wearily at his friend. " i calad anor."
Aragorn turned his face toward the east. Indeed, the sun was rising, turning the sky rosy hues. He smiled. With a sigh, he sank back against his brother and fell quietly asleep as the sun chased away the horrors of the blood filled night.
0-0-0-0
Lacho calad! Drego morn!- Flame light! Flee night!
Tiro…i calad anor- Look…the sunlight.
Ion nin- my son
Mellon nin- my friend.