A/N
Alright, Chapter 9! I have decided to do some POV writing for the 'bad guys', just to make the story a little bit more interesting, instead of just all the same characters! But probably not in this chapter, maybe the next one. Thank you to anyone who PM'ed or reviewed, I have replied to you via email :)
Chapter 9
Legolas sprinted hurriedly through the trees, running back to Rochiril. They were running out of athelas, and Elrohir was still unconscious.
The fair-haired prince was exhausted; he had never really gotten the chance to recover from travelling to Rivendell from Mirkwood. Although nothing could have stopped him from coming after Estel, his worry for his best friend had reached an almost unbearable state.
Legolas snapped out of his thoughts when he reached Rochiril, the newly washed white mare still tethered to a large oak tree. Striding over to the mare, he gently pulled the saddlebags from the horse's flanks, searching the bottom of the pack for anymore medical supplies. He breathed in relief when he found a pack of dried athelas and a small sprig of seregon. Hastily untying Rochiril from the oak, he mounted the elven steed and silently urged her in the direction of the twins.
As Legolas sat atop the mare, his shoulders sagged in weariness. He hadn't slept properly for days, and Valar, he needed to. He raised a tired hand to push a strand of dishevelled blonde hair, which had come loose of his braids, back behind his ear. Nudging Rochiril to go faster, he tried not to picture how terrible he must look right now, with his blonde hair in frizzy, matted strands, and how much the twins were going to tease him for it when all this was over. If it would ever be over…
No. The prince mentally scolded himself. He had to stop thinking as negative as he was. It wasn't healthy, and right now it definitely wasn't going to help Elrohir or Estel. Right now, Elladan needed healing herbs, and he, Legolas, was going to focus on completing that simple task.
After what seemed like forever, Legolas spotted the tree that Elladan had set up camp under. The tree that the elder twin was tending to his brother under was massive, almost as large as the huge mallorn trees that grew in Lothlórien. He slid off Rochiril and landed gracefully on the leaf-strewn floor.
As if in a trance, Elladan was repeatedly murmuring to his twin, not once diverting his eyes or even showing any sign that he noticed Legolas's return. Chewing the inside of his cheek, the prince saw that the bowl of athelas water was completely empty.
Striding quietly over to Elladan as so not to startle him, Legolas noticed the Sindarin Elladan was speaking to his brother was a string of encouraging and jesting words.
"Come on, muindor, you know how furious ada will be if he has to patch you up again! And Estel and I will be forced to mother you to no end. It is only a simple arrow wound! Will you really let the elves of Imladris and Mirkwood tell the tale of how the mighty Elrohir was slain by an edan's single arrow?"
Legolas brow creased in worry. He and Elladan had studied the arrow that Elrohir had been struck with for hours. At first they had thought it was an orc arrow, as the other races of Middle Earth rarely used poison-coated black arrows. But, considering the circumstances, no orc would shoot a single arrow at one of the Firstborn, or let an elf survive. Unless they never expected the elf to survive in the first place…
No. Instead, they had come to the more likely conclusion that Elrohir had been shot by a man. They highly doubted that it had been Morcion himself who shot the young son of Elrond, but nothing was definite.
Shaking his head and snapping himself out of his worry-induced stupor, Legolas called out softly to Elladan.
"Mellon-nin, I found some more herbs. But use them wisely, that is the last of them, and we never know how badly Estel or Lord Elrond might need them when we find them." Legolas advised him reluctantly.
Elladan turned around abruptly, blinking in surprise when he saw Legolas standing by Rochiril, wearing an anxious expression.
He nodded. "You are right, Thranduillion."
Under normal circumstances, the eldest son of Elrond would have known that Legolas despised that name, but right now he was having enough trouble coping with the situations at hand. Mainly on how to heal Elrohir, and how he was going to find the rest of his beloved family.
Reaching out to take the herbs from Legolas, Elladan's brow creased. "Is this seregon?"
Legolas nodded. "Yes." Seeing the confused look on Elladan's face, Legolas asked; "Why? Is that unusual in Rivendell?"
Elladan bit his lip. "No, it's just… seregon is a lot more effective on humans than it is on elves, so it is not commonly a herb that ada would carry around with him normally." The eldest son of Elrond's face became even more lined with worry. "He must know that Estel needs help."
Legolas looked at Elladan. "You don't know that, mellon-nin, Lord Elrond might just have brought it just in case."
Elladan whirled around, intense worry fuelling his anger. "Legolas! Seregon isn't even stocked in Rivendell! Ada must have picked it on his way here! Do you know what that means? Father must have foreseen it!" He shouted bluntly.
Legolas recoiled in surprise. "Calm down, Elladan. Right now, Elrohir needs you." He said cautiously.
The eldest twin breathed heavily. "Sorry, mellon-nin, you are right." He said guiltily, his grey eyes flashing regretfully. He turned back to face his younger twin, already beginning to crush some of the athelas.
Legolas sighed. "No apology necessary, Elladan, we are all on edge right now."
Kneeling beside Elladan, Legolas reached out a placed a hand on Elrohir's forehead. He felt an unnatural heat there. He frowned. Elrohir had a fever, but elves didn't get sick. At least not under normal conditions…
Estel blinked wearily. He opened his eyes, but for a few seconds all he saw was blinding light. Everything seemed surreal. For the first time in what felt like forever, Aragorn felt no pain. He was floating, floating in a world where nothing mattered, and nothing ever would. His eyelids opened and closed, but he continued to see an aesthetically blank oblivion.
But a small voice was constantly bugging him in the back of his mind, telling him that he couldn't rest now, he needed to wake up.
He sighed inwardly. There was always a voice. Why couldn't anyone just let him be in peace for one brief moment? Not even his conscience would leave him be. He didn't want to wake up from this perfect nothingness. But it was too late. He was beginning to awaken, and at a rapid pace.
Suddenly, his battered body caught up with his brain. All kinds of hurt washed over him. His aching shoulder jolted painfully, and his throbbing skull becoming more agonizing with every second that passed.
His vision still impaired, he swayed dangerously, struggling to keep his balance every time his horse took a step. Wait… a horse? Where was he?
Now fully awake, Estel flicked his dark hair out of his eyes, whipping his head around and taking in his surroundings.
His numb wrists were still restrained. He was sitting atop a large black stallion, and said horse seemed to be in a bad-tempered mood.
He swivelled in his saddle as much as his bonds would allow him, rolling his eyes when the infuriated horse whined in annoyance.
Ignoring his infected shoulder, Aragorn surveyed the atmosphere. Rain was softly falling from the sky, joining the sweat on his forehead and trickling down the side of his face. A group of about thirty horses were riding in single file, with the exception of his horse, which was flanked by two guards each about ten metres away from him. Perfect, he thought sarcastically.
Looking down when his horse whinnied again, Aragorn was taken aback. The horse he was sitting on was the horse he had taken to look for Legolas in the first place!
Bending down near the horse's ear, he whispered softly in Sindarin.
"It's you, my friend! How did you end up here?"
The stallion neighed proudly. Estel laughed, despite the intense pain he felt coursing through the entire left side of his body.
He whispered to the horse. "I'm going to name you Tangaa."
Estel smiled slightly to himself, momentarily forgetting what was originally troubling him.
Another wave of nausea swept through him, forcing him to sit up straight again and take some of the pressure off of his shoulder.
Mentally scolding himself for showing weakness if front of the men, Estel had a sudden realisation.
He had absolutely no idea where they were headed. He flew into a panic. They were leaving the outskirts of Rivendell! His last hope had been that he was close to home, and that surely someone would stumble upon him with time. But no, they were leaving!
He was never going to see his beloved brothers or his father again, or Legolas…
And then it hit him.
Ada!
It was all coming back to him now. The last thing he remembered before falling unconscious was his father's concerned, but relieved face, staring at him desperately from across the camp. And Commander Donngal's cursed face, twisted in a grotesque smile, smirking at him from atop his massive bay stallion.
Suddenly, an unexpected rage flew through him. Morcion and Donngal were cowards. They would capture him and his father to get what they wanted, instead of making it a fair fight, like a true warrior would. A man like that had no honour whatsoever.
Commander Donngal was the kind of person who would shoot someone when their back was turned. He was the kind of person who would do anything for money, no matter what the consequences were. Estel had no doubt that this was the type of man that would sell his soul to the devil without hesitation. His arms shook with distress.
No, he couldn't panic now; it wouldn't serve him at all in this situation. He took a deep breath, trying to settle the raging turmoil in his mind. Where was his father? He couldn't see him in the group of cavalry around him, but that didn't mean anything. The horses were in single file, and the line went far into the distance. He just had to cross his fingers and hope that his ada was safe.
Valar, how were they going to escape this? He tried to adopt more common sense.
He lived in a household full of elves, the most skilled trackers in Middle Earth. Elladan, Elrohir and Legolas were some of the most experienced elves on this side of the Sundering Seas. If there was the slightest path to follow, they would find it.
Aragorn abruptly realised that there might be no path left behind. The men were taking the path he had originally expected, carefully leaving a wide berth around Imladris and travelling over rocky plains rather than boggy marsh, which would easily leave imprints of the horses' hooves.
The dark-haired ranger stared despondently at the large flat rocks they were making their way over, the slowly increasing rainfall taking care to wash away any evidence of them ever being here…
He was sorely missing his partner in crime. Legolas was almost always caught up in these situations with him, and together they would find a way out of the mess they had gotten themselves into. But he was alone this time, and it made it feel so much more real. Of course he was glad that for once his fair-haired friend was out of immediate danger, (well he hoped so) but he needed the prince's light humour and encouragement to give him faith.
The young ranger shook his head. 'Snap out of it' he thought to himself. 'Legolas isn't here this time; you are on your own.'
Estel raised his pounding head to the cloudy heavens. You are on your own…
Lord Elrond desperately struggled to look over the horses around him, searching for his son. Last he had seen him, Estel had been unconscious on an elven horse, flanked by a pair of guards. But that had been almost an hour ago, and between keeping an eye on Morcion and trying futilely to loosen his bonds, he had lost sight of his foster son.
Once again he restrained himself from calling out for Estel. He didn't want to draw any more unwanted attention to his defenceless son, who was already gravely injured and needed medical attention.
Elrond let out a long sigh of barely controlled fury and frustration. Morcion was taking his anger out on Aragorn, because of a single action that had taken place several hundred years before the young ranger ever existed. An action that had been his own decision…
Elrond chewed the inside of his cheek. To be honest, he wasn't all that surprised that they had ended up in this situation. Estel was bound to find any potential danger within a thousand leagues. The Lord of Imladris and everybody in The Last Homely House had come to expect that.
He was only glad that Legolas had not arrived a few days earlier. The only way to make a bad situation worse was to put Aragorn and the young prince of Mirkwood together. And the last thing he needed was a wounded Legolas and an angry King Thranduil on top of the other disasters he already had to manage.
Besides, if Estel and Legolas were together, it only meant the twins would be on their way. Ah, the twins. They would amplify the level of catastrophe in the span of ten seconds. Elrond squeezed his eyes shut. Why was he cursed with such unmanageable sons?
He smiled slightly. They may have felt like a curse sometimes, but each of them were blessings, and he loved them dearly.
Elrond squared his jaw. To be honest, he didn't know what he was going to do. He had left Rivendell in a panic for Estel, without clearly thinking through a plan. He only knew one thing. He had to save his son…
Elrohir rolled his eyes at his youngest brother, still secretly overjoyed at having found him. He sat down beside him. The grass was so soft, and the air was so warm, and he was so very tired…
Elrohir let out a low groan as he felt the hand of his older brother push him softly back onto the ground.
The muffled voice of Elladan reached his ears.
"Don't get up, muindor, you know better than that." His brother scolded him. His voice was teasing, but the youngest twin heard the slight undertone of worry in Elladan's voice.
Why was Elladan worried? What had happened? Had he dozed off? And where was Estel! He wanted to talk with him. It seemed like forever that he had last seen him.
Still half awake, Elrohir could barely contain his excitement. He missed his human brother deeply.
Slowly, Elrohir peeled open a single eyelid. As he expected, light shot straight into his unadjusted eye, temporarily blinding him and causing him to clutch his temples in pain. Elrohir could have sworn the Valar hated him. Why was it always daytime when these sorts of thing happened? Despite being an elf, sunlight was not something he really cared for at this moment.
Automatically curling up into a ball, his lower abdomen screamed in protest.
The dark-haired twin froze. He didn't know why he was hurting, but he knew from experience that it was just best to stop moving. He waited patiently for the pain to subside.
Suddenly the comforting voice of Elladan floated down from somewhere above him. Elrohir blanched. He had forgotten that his twin was here. Bleary-eyed, Elrohir shot up from where he had been lying, his pain momentarily forgotten.
"Where is Estel?" He blurted out. His stomach throbbed. What was wrong with his stomach? He looked up at his older brother, squinting to make out his twin against the sunlight behind him. Soft rain began to drizzle from the sky.
Elladan froze. "What?"
Elrohir scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion. "I said, where is Estel? I thought he was here. I saw him!" He exclaimed, puzzled.
Elladan crouched down beside his twin. "Elrohir, we haven't seen Estel for six days. Whatever you saw, it wasn't real." The eldest twin said sadly.
Elrohir stared at his brother with dismay. "No! No, I saw him, I talked to him, it was real…"
The youngest twin covered his face. It hadn't been real, had it?
Elladan put a gentle hand on Elrohir's shoulder. He pulled it away when he heard a strangled sob come from his younger twin.
Pulling Elrohir's hands away from his face, Elladan peered into the young Elrondion's face. Elrohir's eyes were glistening with unshed tears, his lower lip trembling faintly in a futile attempt to stop them falling.
"It wasn't real…"
Leaning forward, Elladan enveloped his younger twin in a gentle but firm hug, while furiously fighting back tears of his own.
"It doesn't matter, muindor, we are going to find him anyway."
Elrohir pulled away, the rain mingling with his now freely flowing tears as they rolled down his cheeks.
"How can you say that Elladan? He has been missing for six days. Six days! And apparently even ada has failed to find him! And if Morcion finds out Estel is really the heir of Isildur, he will have no chance-"
"No! Elrohir, I have spent the last day thinking I was going to lose my twin, as well as ada and Estel, but you finally woke up! Miracles can happen, and they will. You just have to let them!"
Elrohir nodded slowly, shivering as the rain began to soak through his clothes. He moved to stand up, shakily brushing away the last of his tears, but Elladan stopped him.
"Don't move too much, you might tear the stitches."
Confused, the youngest twin looked down at the linen cloths wrapped around his midsection. Finally, it all came back to him.
"Elladan! Someone attacked me! I think they shot me, but that's not the point, they might have been the people who took Estel-"
Elladan interrupted him. "We know, Elrohir, but whoever it was, they left. When we found you, you were unconscious with an arrow in your lower stomach. The arrow was poisoned, muindor. If Legolas didn't find the herbs in ada's saddlebag, you would be dead. I am not letting you move from this spot, brother, please just for once be grateful to be alive."
Elrohir rolled his eyes. "Stop mothering me." He frowned suddenly. "Where is Legolas?"
Elladan looked back absent-mindedly. "He went to scout the clearing."
Turning back around to face his brother, Elladan blanched when he met Elrohir's burning gaze.
"What?"
"Do I need to remind you what happened the last time one of us scouted alone? It's dangerous! I, Elladan, am living proof!" Elrohir said stunned.
Elladan chewed his lip while looking at his twin guiltily.
Suddenly a crashing came from the undergrowth in front of them. Elladan whipped an arrow out of his quiver and strung it onto his bow in rapid succession. Elrohir reached unconsciously for his twin daggers that were strapped onto his back.
Rochiril burst into the clearing, Legolas right behind her.
Elladan sighed in annoyance. "Valar, that horse…"
Elrohir snorted in a very unelvish way.
Legolas, panted, out of breath, clearly having hurried back here. His eyes flashed in relief when he saw that the younger twin was awake, but apparently there was a more pressing matter that needed to be taken under advisement.
"Elladan, Elrohir! I found a trail, but there are much more men than we expected! If the tracks are real, which I believe they are, there are no less than thirty men. If we mean into infiltrate their camp, we need a company, or a small army."
The twins' minds whirled, trying to process this new information.
"How fresh are the trails?" Elrohir asked, not daring to believe that they might have found Estel at last.
Abruptly, Elladan turned towards his brother.
Legolas breathed in deeply. "The tracks are only a few hours old, but we must hurry if we mean to follow them. Morcion has chosen to travel over the rocky plains in an attempt to hide the evidence of them travelling here."
Elladan wasn't about to waste any time. He whirled around to face his younger brother.
"Elrohir! You must go back to Rivendell and warn Glorfindel! We need a group of elves to ride out here as quickly as possible."
Elrohir stared at Legolas and Elladan in shock. "Why me!"
Legolas sighed. "Elrohir, you know as well as we do that you are not in the condition to come on this mission. We need stealth and strength, and you are wounded."
Even though Elrohir knew it was true, he utterly refused to go. He wasn't going to miss his chance at finding his youngest brother.
He clenched his jaw in denial. "No."
Elladan closed his eyed. "Elrohir, we know you want to be a part of Aragorn's rescue, but without reinforcements that might not be possible. Go find Glorfindel, as quickly as you can."
Legolas looked at Elrohir with big, sliver-blue pleading eyes.
"Saes, mellon-nin. For Estel's sake."
Elrohir nodded slowly. "Fine. But if I get back here in time, there is nothing either of you can do to stop me joining the fight."
Legolas and Elladan exchanged an exasperated look.
Elrohir walked to Rochiril, gently stroking the horse before mounting her slowly.
"I'll be back as soon as I can."
Nudging the white mare, Elrohir started to canter into the trees.
"If you come back and I find that you have torn your stitches muindor, Valar help me, I will kill you myself!" Elladan called after him.
Legolas smiled slightly, turning to the worried Elladan.
"He will be fine, mellon-nin." He said reassuringly.
The pair turned to the edge of the forest, prepared to follow the trail that would lead them to the heir of Isildur.
Elladan sighed.
"Lead the way, Legolas."
TBC…
Athelas – A healing herb that grows throughout Middle Earth, also known as Kingsfoil
Seregon – A blood-red flower with healing properties that grew in the hills of Amon Rhûn
Mallorn – A huge Elven tree that grew in Tol Ereassëa, Númenor and Lothlórien
Muindor – Brother
Ada – Father
Edan – Man (human)
Mellon-nin – My friend
Thranduillion – Son of Thranduil
Saes – Please
Elrondion – Son of Elrond
Chapter 9! My longest chapter :) Haha I'm so happy. Please leave your thoughts in a review or a PM if you liked it! My updates might become a little less frequent, but they will be longer to try make up for it :)
