A/N

Hi guys I have noticed I am getting lots of views, but no reviews yet? I would absolutely love it if someone took the time to write one *please please please*. But for those of you who are reading my story, I will try to upload a new chapter every three or four days.

Chapter 3

"But I don't understand," Legolas said confusedly. "Why would a group of humans be lingering outside the woods of Rivendell, simply to attack passing elves? Also, Elladan, why in the name of Illuvatar do you have pink flowers in your hair?"

Elrohir smirked. Elladan shot his twin a scathing glare that should have melted the twin into the ground. "That is not important right now, Legolas, but when you see Estel, you can ask him that yourself. As for the men, elves have been attacked by drunken hunters around Imladris before, but it has always been a rare occurrence."

Legolas frowned slightly. "These men were not drunk. They knew exactly what they were doing, and they were skilled fighters. They killed Haerelon, one of the elves I was travelling with."

Elrohir put a comforting hand on Legolas's shoulder. "I'm sorry."

Legolas gave a sad smile. "Thank you, Elrohir." Glancing around the room, he asked "where is Aragorn? I have not seen him at all yet."

The twins exchanged a look. "We don't know. He's not in his room, and we haven't seen him since this morning. We were going to go look for him after making sure you were well," Elrohir said anxiously.

"Is Lord Elrond looking for him?"

Elladan shook his head. "No, we have not told ada yet, he is extremely busy, and Estel may just be enjoying a moment alone. But we have been feeling uneasy, so we decided to search for him. He was most excited for you to arrive, it is strange he wasn't here to greet you."

"Are you going now? Because I am coming with you."

Elladan quickly pushed the prince back down into the bed. "Absolutely not. Your injuries might not be serious, but there is no need to make them worse. And with the hostile group of men that seem to be travelling through the forests, I am sure everyone would rather you stay here."

"No Elladan," Legolas said heatedly, "I am coming with you. Estel does not know about the men in the forests, he could be in serious danger! There is no way you can keep me here. Otherwise I will just have to leave by myself after you two go."

Elladan groaned in frustration. Elrohir rubbed his aching temples. If Legolas was going to be stubborn, they would have to take the prince with them. He couldn't risk Legolas leaving by himself and getting caught up in even more danger.

"Fine," Elrohir said. "But if you don't make it back, I will not be the one to tell your father."

Satisfied, Legolas pulled a clean tunic over his head. Elladan tossed him his knives that had been sitting in a box beside the prince's bed. Strapping his quiver over his shoulder, Legolas asked "Where do we look for Estel first?"

Elrohir thought for a second. "Maybe first we should go back to the River Bruinen, and see if we can pick anything up from there? I'm sure it's nothing to worry about, he is most likely just avoiding Elladan."

Elladan rolled his eyes. Legolas nodded in agreement, but he couldn't quite shake the feeling that this was a much larger crisis. The three elves walked out of the healing wing, side by side.

Aragorn winced as the sound of the cell door opening met his ears. Unconsciously straightening his posture as a man entered the cave, he pushed any feeling of fear or worry behind his prideful mask. He looked up into the face of two men. The one that had struck him the night before smirked at him.

The other man grinned at Aragorn. "Where does the lord want him, Commander Donngal?"

"Just outside, Fergal. Make haste, the lord is waiting."

Aragorn's mind raced. Lord? This was no ordinary group of humans. Hunting groups had no lord. He wondered vaguely what these men had been offered to make them agree to serve someone.

His body jolted with pain as he was yanked up by his bound wrists. He was stiff and sore from spending the night leaning against a hard rock wall. Angrily, he spat in Fergal's direction. It landed beside his shoe.

Fergal hissed in annoyance, and dug his hand into Estel's wounded shoulder. He tried not to cringe as the man's fingers dug into his tender flesh. His eyes hardened with resolve as he attempted to stare down Fergal, shooting the man a look that was somehow icy cold and burning hot simultaneously.

Surely someone noticed he was missing by now. He did not know if he could get out of this one without a little help. His mischief was always getting him into trouble, but this time he was in over his head. Sending a silent prayer to the Valar, he hoped his brothers and Legolas had the sense not to attack a group of men without reinforcements. That was, if they ever found him…

He shook his head to clear these negative thoughts, and returned his attention to the problem at hand. He was being pushed out of the cave, taking care not to show any weakness, no matter how much his shoulder ached.

He forced his silver eyes shut as harsh light seared them. After being in the dark for so long, the sunlight felt like fire beneath his eyelids. Blinking quickly to clear his fuzzy vision, he focused on his surroundings.

He recognized this place. They were in a small clearing, a mere half hour from Rivendell. It had been here that the twins had first taught him to shoot a bow, and wield a blade. Estel's heart sank when we realised that no one ever came through this way, not unless they wanted to take an extra-long route entering and leaving Imladris.

How do these people know their way around Rivendell? It was almost as if they lived here. But that was impossible; he was certain that he was the only human that could call the Last Homely House his home.

His thoughts were interrupted when they came to an abrupt halt. Narrowing his eyes to see clearly through the bright sunlight, Aragorn saw a figure moving toward them. Commander Donngal stepped forward, inclining his head slightly to the approaching figure. "Lord Morcion."

Aragorn focused intently on the figure. He had long chestnut hair and pointy-tipped ears. A bow and a quiver full of arrows sat strapped over his shoulder, and he had a long elvish blade sheathed at his side. So, he thought to himself, the elf hadn't been a dream.

"So, Lord Elrond's foster son is awake. How did you sleep, ranger?" Morcion drawled.

Estel tried to mask his shock at how the elf knew him. Chewing the inside of his lip, he bit back the scathing reply he had been about to shoot back. It would do no good in this situation. He chose to glare at Morcion instead.

Morcion raised an eyebrow. "Have you nothing to say ranger? Not to worry, we have plenty of time to become better acquainted."

"How in the Valar do you know me and what do you think gives you the right to kidnap people in my father's forests?" Aragorn hissed angrily.

Morcion smirked. "Oh, the Valar. Do you still believe in them? I did too once, a long time ago. But the Valar are not real, boy. If they were real, they would not leave those who suffer, and turn a blind eye to those who call to them in need. I learnt that lesson long ago, and I think it's time you did, too. As for your father, well these forests won't be his for long. They will be mine."

Aragorn tried to contain his anger. "What did Lord Elrond ever do to you?"

Morcion fixed him with an evil glare. "Oh, you have no idea, ranger. But you, you will help me get my revenge. The downfall of your father is all I desire."

Estel kept a stoic expression. "How exactly do you plan to make me help with that?"

Morcion tilted his head for a moment, studying the young ranger with cold eyes. "All in good time, boy, you will be told only of what you need to know. Fergal, Donngal, tie the ranger to that tree over there. We will not be moving anytime soon. And you, ranger, I suggest you keep your mouth shut, unless you would like some more injuries to go with your shoulder wound."

Aragorn fixed Morcion with one last piercing glare before he was dragged off to the edge of the campsite between the two men.

Elrond gave up on paperwork when his headache reached a whole new level. Sighing, he stood up and walked out onto his office balcony. Stepping to the edge, he put his hands on the wooded balustrades and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. Peace. Peace was one of the most valued things now; his wife Celebrìan had taught him that.

A soft wind blew, soothing Elrond's headache. He heard soft footsteps behind him, and turned to see Glorfindel standing in the doorway to the balcony. Elrond smiled in greeting. "Hello, mellon-nin."

Glorfindel acknowledged him with a nod of his head. "What bothers you, Elrond?"

"Nothing, Glorfindel, I simply seek a moment away from my paperwork," Elrond lied.

Glorfindel raised an eyebrow. "Of course. What is really troubling you?"

Elrond sighed. "It is just a feeling. Something is not right in Imladris. But what it is, I am not sure. Perhaps it is nothing. Rivendell has not been threatened by anyone in centuries." Elrond tried to reassure himself.

Glorfindel crossed his arms. "My Lord Elrond, you have the gift of foresight. I do not think assumed danger in Rivendell should be taken lightly."

Elrond's jaw twitched. "I suppose you are right. I will go talk to the twins and Estel, to see if they have noticed anything amiss."

Glorfindel nodded in agreement. Elrond put a hand on his shoulder. "I will see you later, my friend. Thank you for your counsel."

"Elrond?" Glorfindel called. Elrond turned to face him. "After that, get some sleep. You are weary; I can see it in your eyes."

Elrond opened his mouth to protest, but then sighed in defeat when he realised Glorfindel was right. He nodded.

The golden-haired balrog slayer smiled. He turned to watch Elrond swiftly walk out of the office, the tips of his dark cloak swishing around the corner of the doorway. He turned to look out over the balcony. In the distance, the sun was setting, washing Imladris in an enchanting gold. He watched elflings run about the forests, and maidens dancing between the trees. He sent a silent prayer to the Valar that peace would stay in Imladris for many more yenì to come.

TBC…

Ada – father

Mellon-nin – my friend

Yenì – elvish equivalent to 144 years.

Ok, the story is really starting now! I know I have already said this enough, but please review, it would mean so much to me. I need to know if my writing is any good! I promise that I will try and stick to posting a chapter every 4 days at least. And as the story gets more intense, I will definitely write longer chapters. I hope everyone had a good Christmas.*Thank you*