Thanks a lot Mercury! I'm sorry for the long delay but I just started working and am almost dead on my feet after my shifts. Plus, there's only one internet-café in the city I'm living in now. I'll try to update as often as possible!

Elrond once more finds himself in strange company, the twins try to discuss a problem and Gimli fears what Legolas may do...

Chapter 14

Pain ebbed through his body in small but insistent waves as he drifted in and out of consciousness. His whole body seemed to be alight with pain, burning with flames of torment. Why had he not been killed yet? What had stopped Sadjan?

Elrond shivered, groaning as new waves of pain spiralled through his abused back.

"Don't move," a smooth voice told him as he tried to raise his head, "You would tear the wounds open again and I don't want you dying on me now that your family knows you are here."

"My family?" Elrond croaked, his voice muffled by the pillow. Pillow? Storm-grey eyes widened in wonder. Where was he? Muted sunlight streamed into the room, barely reaching the bed he was lying in. Room? Bed? Elrond tried to glare through the strange light but the only thing he could see was a grey stone wall covered with green tapestries.

"Your family," the haughty voice behind him repeated, "I sent them a messenger to inform them of your condition and whereabouts. They should have received the message by now."

"Message?"

"Yes, message."

Elrond yelped as something cold and wet suddenly touched his back but relaxed as soon as he noticed that the stranger was only washing him.

"I'm only cleaning the wounds," the stranger continued, "I knew that you Noldo never had much of a brain to start with but you surely seem to have lost the last few braincells you had."

"Who?" Elrond managed to ask, almost sputtering with outrage. He wanted to turn around, to finally be able to see the one who was tending to his wounds and insulting him at the same time but his muscles refused to obey.

"What Rondy?" the voice was dripping with amused sarcasm, "Have you forgotten me?"

Elrond winced at the old nickname, once more trying to turn around.

"Didn't I tell you to stop moving? You surely seem to be intent on hurting yourself."

Elrond could almost hear the other elf, if it was an elf, frown. He relaxed gradually as the wet cold numbed the pain in his back. He was sure that he had heard the voice before and who ever was taking care of him certainly knew him.

"He's quite good," Legolas remarked as he and Aragorn stepped out into the sunlight, "Almost remarkably so for a human his age."

"He is indeed," Aragorn seemed to grow a few inches, his gaze lingering proudly on his son, who was sparring with Gimli, "I want him to have the best teachers available."

Steel clanked against steel as the boy and the dwarf fought, wearily circling each other. Aragorn grinned as his son suddenly went through a complicated series of moves, seemingly attacking his opponent with a low-swung strike at his left side, dodging Gimli's blow, the sword flirring to his right shoulder. He turned, sword still raised, as he shifted his weight to his left foor, kicking the dwarf with his right boot and bringing his sword around to Gimli's throat as the dwarf stumbled.

His disappointment was evident as Gimli managed to block the blow just in time.

"Well done, Eldarion!" The boy's face lit up with a smile as he turned around.

"Adar! Did you see? I almost defeated uncle Gimli!"

Aragorn grinned and nodded at Gimli, knowing that the dwarf had wanted his son to win. "I am proud of you, my son," he ruffled the boy's dark hair, "Now go in, clean yourself and tell your mother that we'll see her at dinner."

"A fine lad," Gimli commented as he cleaned his sword, "Tad on the reckless side, though. That turn left his back wide open for attack."

"It would have if he hadn't kicked you," Legolas corrected, "He was winning."

"Winning? My dear master elf, you must have your eyes examined!"

"Not at all," the elf laughed, "You must work on your battle skills!"

"Why you…"
"Enough!" Aragorn interjected, dreading what could happen, "Gimli, please put that sword away and Legolas, give him his tunic back. Honestly, you two are worse than children. The only thing that's missing is sticking your tongues out at each other."

Both of his friends mumbled something unintelligible as Aragorn finally led them back into the castle. The king choose to ignore the muffled remarks from behind. Nothing was worse than thinking about the two sticking their tongues down each other's throat. Their constant bantering and teasing was bad enogh.

"And please do me a favour," Aragorn said as they reached the great hall, "Behave in front of Arwen, I beg you."

Somehow his friends' identical grins were not even remotely reassuring.

Elrond had been awake for quite some time again, staring at the tapestries and trying to figure out who had been caring for him earlier. He knew the voice, he was sure of it.

"What happened?" the half elf asked as soon as he felt the other's presence return to the room, licking his dry lips.

"I had hoped that you would be able to tell me that," water splashed, "What were you doing so close to Mirkwood? And alone, no less! One could begin to doubt that you ever had a brain in that thick skull of yours!"

Mirkwood? He was in Mirkwood? His eyes widened. "Thranduil?" he gasped, flinching from the hand on his neck.

"Lie still," the now only too well-known voice said, "I'm just trying to help you."

"Am I… badly injured?" His breath was ragged as he rememberd flirring talons and wings.
"Not at all," Elrond winced at the sarcasm, "Only more dead than alive." Thranduil sighed. "I gave you something to ease the pain but the effects will wear off soon, I'm afraid."

Cold air hit Elrond's skin as Thranduil finished what ever he had been doing. "I'm sorry," the woodland king patted his hair, "I cannot pull the covers over you, your back is too torn for that."

Elrond stared helpessly as brown leggins walked into view, soon followed by a simple green tunic. "Drink this," Thranduil's face was now level with his and determined fingers lifted Elrond's head, pressing a cup to the per-edhel's lips, "You need the liquid."

"Gulp after gulp fought its way down Elrond's throat, burning and choking him.

"It will soon be easier," Thranduil forced him to take another sip, "It's a painkilling potion."

"P..pain…"

"Yes, I know," the blond sighed exasperatedly, "Drink it. Even you should understand that painkillers help against pain."

Elrond tried to glare at Thranduil, forcing himself to continue swallowing the foul-tasting concoction the Mirkwood king was forcing down his throat.

"El'hir?" someone asked, "Is everything alright?" Elrohir shook his head, leaning back into the opened arms behind him. For a while they stood in silence, drawing strength from each other as they looked down over the river and the garden.

"When do you think?" Elrohir asked finally, heaving a contented sigh as his brother absentmindedly stroked his hair.

"He has to heal first, melme," Elladan wrapped his arms around his twin's wait and rested his chin on Elrohir's shoulder, "Thranduil wrote that he had been severly injured."

"But what if?"

"He wouldn't," Elladan assured him, "Thranduil may hate the Noldor but he would not turn his back on an injured elf."

"Are you sure?"

"I am. Just think of Legolas. Thranduil raised him and he didn't turn out that bad, did he?"

Elrohir chuckled. "Indeed, he did not. Do you think the two will ever get anywhere?"

"Bellmaethorion and Lindir?" Elladan followed Elrohir's glance to the garden, "No, Glorfindel would kill him if he ever tried to kiss Lindir."

"Why is he still here? Didn't he claim to be looking for Legolas?"

"Because of Lindir?"

Elrohir shook his head, sighing, "Lindir may be considered beautiful but would Bellmaethorion disobey his king's orders to be with him?"

"He seems to. But then…"

"Then what? Go on!" Elrohir nudged his twin, "Tell me!"

"Bellmaethorion wouldn't need to fear Thranduil's wrath if he stayed in Imladris…"

"Here?" Elrohir squealed, "Valar, no! Glorfindel would never stop growling!"

"He truly seems to have discovered his animal part," Elladan grinned, "I wonder if Erestor managed to enjoy that part already."

"Elladan!"

"Didn't you notice? I'm beginning to think that they must have been joined at the hips somehow since Glorfindel returned. Look!" he pointed at the garden, "Bellmaethorion is even giving Lindir flowers!"

"And roses on top of all," Elrohir shuddered, "If things really continue this way we might have to get used to his presence."

"There's something else I'd rather get used to right now," Elladan purred, pressing closer to his twin, "Something that might require a bed…"

"Really?" Elrohir shiverd as Elladan's arousal pressed against his robes, "I wonder what that might be…" small kisses were planted on his neck in time with the hand stroking him.

"Let's go," Elladan whispered with a last glance out of the window, "They've managed weeks without Glorfindel killing or maiming Bellmaethorion, they'll manage the rest of the day."

Elrohir agreed full-heartedly.

"Humans," Gimli grumbled, shaking his head as he kicked the door to his guestchamber shut, "No appreciation for the beauty of stonework. At least the festivities will start tomorrow," he told the empty room, as he began to ready himself for bed, "Might even take my mind off the antics of a certain elf."

He shook his head again as he shrugged on his nightshirt. "I wonder what that pointy-eared menace is up to this time. He was definitely plotting something. And of course," he glared at the mirror over the broad desk, "He'll expect me to bail him out of what ever trouble he'll get himself into again. But not this time!" he vowed, lighting the candle on the nightstand, "This time I'll finally leave him to suffer the results of his actions!"

Just as Gimli climbed into bed two plans were set into motion in another part of the castle. Shadowy figures and a cloud of dark-grey mist crept through darkened corridors.

It was obviously night or evening as he woke again. A single torch was the only source of light in his room. The strange taste in his mouth made him toy with the thought of having chewed on a robe that had been worn for weeks. At least the pain was still gone. What ever potion Thranduil had forced him to drink had not been a mere painkiller; it must have contained a sleeping draught as well. He frowned as he suddenly became aware of another presence in the room.

"Thranduil?" Robes rustled behind him, soon accompanied by a few uncertain steps and a stutter.

"No… no, not Thranduil, milord," an unknown voice babbled, "I'll go and fetch him… he wanted to be informed as soon as you woke again."

Elrond thought about this for a moment but as he decided to tell the other that there was no need to gete Thranduil he was already alone again. He knew very well that the woodland king did not like him but at least he seemed to care whether he lived or died. He sighed, already tired of waiting. It was beginning, maybe even something to build on.

"Elrond," Thranduil stated politely as he entered, at once checking the dressings on the half elf's wounds, "I am surprised to see you awake again."

"Who made it?" Thranduil's fingers on his back froze.

"Who made what?"

"The potion," Elörond clarified, "I never managed a potion that acted as a painkiller and a sleeping draught."

"Ah." Thranduil resumed his inspections of Elrond's back.

"Could I speak to the one of your healers who developed it?"

"Maybe," Thranduil said carefully, "I'll have to think about it. What happened?"

"Happened?"

"What brought you to Mirkwood? And don't you dare parrot my question!"

"I think I was abducted," Elrond said slowly, "I was in my study when suddenly everything went black. When I woke again Sadjan was already carrying me and…"

"Sadjan?" interrupted Thranduil, "Who is Sadjan?"

"I don't know who or what he is," Elrond sighed, "He was… black… tall… and,"

"Had bat-like wings with very sharp talons," Thranduil finished.

"How do you know?"

"I killed him."

"So that's why he didn't kill me," Elrond whispered, "I wondered."
"Do you know why he abducted you?"

"He only said that his master wanted me," pain flitted across Elrond's face, "He also said that someone in Imladris had betrayed me… had brought me to him…"

Thranduil remained silent and brought another goblet to Elrond's lips instead. "Drink," he said, "It'll help.