Orc's Mark

Author's Note: So, yeah. This is awkward. I am back! (YAY!) I am so sorry that this has taken so long to come out, but stuff just kept happening and I have had no time to write. I tried to write the next chapter from the point of view it should be from, according to my pattern (Thorin, Kili, Fili, Bilbo, repeat) This was supposed to be a Fili chapter, but it just wasn't coming so this will be from Thranduil's point of view. Hope you don't mind. I think we could all use a little more Thranduil in our lives. Don't you? I thought so. Finally, the long awaited chapter 7 starts now! Thanks for sticking with me!

Thranduil watched and waited from his balcony, a guard flanking him on one side. He could not let his anxiety show on his face, but his long fingers were interwoven with each other, so tightly that his hands formed a fearful knot. The scout team had left four hours ago, and still no sign of them. The sun had not been the red that indicated spilled blood and death, but it was a rise that made him uneasy. Long shadows were cast in Mirkwood, a sign that always brought bad news. Kili. Legolas. There was something horribly wrong. Yet Thranduil did not dare to send out another team. The risk was too high, and he could only rely on the safety of his own fortress. He turned to the guard. "Go and check the main entrance for any sign of them. If they aren't back by midday then I will decide whether or not to send a search party." The elf nodded tersely. Just as he turned to leave the king alone, a horn sounded, the glorious noise breaking through the tranquility. With a sweep of his robes, Thranduil had glided out of the room.

By the time he got back to the throne room, what remained of the scout team was already there, standing in a small cluster. They were battered and bleeding for the most part. They were also four short. The king immediately scanned for the familiar smaller and stockier person, but instead found the group lacking such a creature. Instead, the Captain of the Guard, Tauriel, was holding an injured orc by the neck, her knives ringed around its throat. The monster's arms were strapped around its back with a thick chain, and the elf was pleased to see the black blood leaking from its skin. It was opening and closing its mouth with a revolting sticky noise. Tauriel's face was cold and hard, but her eyes gave away that she might have been crying. An alarm within Thranduil's head began to ring, as he looked from her to his son. Unlike the Captain, Legolas seemed to be completely calm, the sides of his perfect mouth slightly turned up. His gaze followed his father as always. So analytical the prince was. Everything was a puzzle. Nothing was ever straightforward or easily explained.

"Report." Thranduil demanded, slowly sinking into his chair. He was genuinely panicking now, as his adopted nephew was still not present. Legolas jumped at the opportunity to speak with his father.

"The dwarves have escaped," he began. Thranduil exhaled slowly, trying to control his anger and frustration. "It appears that Kili attempted to pursue them on foot, not informing any of us about his plans. We believe he was trying to speak with Thorin, though we don't know the topic of conversation. He could have possibly been abandoning us to join in their adventure. The guards stationed at the bridge he approached them at came back, and we sent out a team. Along with the dwarves escaping, a group of orcs was in pursuit. We lost three elves-" The news was just getting worse. Tauriel bit her lip, indicating that something was more terrible than Legolas was allowing it to seem.

"Where is Kili?" Thranduil interrupted. The prince opened his mouth again, but the king shook his head. "Tauriel, you tell me what happened." The Captain paused for a moment, looking over both her shoulders.

"Please," she said slowly, "we have injured with us. They should go to the healers." Though Thranduil had varying opinions of Tauriel, mostly based on her rash decision and easily manipulated emotions, he obeyed, waving a hand to the other guards. They bowed before leaving. Most of them looked relieved.

"Continue," he told the two remaining elves. Legolas took two steps forward, Tauriel dragging the orc with her. It snapped its jaws, but otherwise did nothing.

"Kili was running in the branches," she started. Her voice was shaking slightly, but she was trying to control it. Thranduil could see it all over her face. "One of the dwarves distracted him, tried to warn him, but it didn't work." The king felt his heart slowly sinking through his ribcage. "He was skimmed by an arrow, and fell." His hands clenched. "The fall was hard, and he landed on his shoulder and slipped into the river. I had to defend myself against another orc, and I…" She paused. "I never saw him resurface." Legolas' eyes flashed.

"We must assume that he is dead, father." He looked almost proud of himself, but the king felt a deeper horror. It had happened. He could feel himself crumbling from the inside out. The same feeling that had taken him when Legolas' mother had passed was coursing through him once again. Thranduil gave himself a moment to stare at the ground. He couldn't be expected to be unaffected. Kili was the child that he had raised, a child he had been more involved in raising than he was with his natural son. That child was dead.

"Wrong," a voice croaked, making his head flick upwards to see the orc speak. "The dwarf-scum is not dead. That wasn't the point." Thranduil jolted up from his seat speeding towards the creature, one hand at the handle of his sword. Tauriel looked shell-shocked, but kept her knives strongly around the orc's neck. Legolas was visibly furious. You wanted him to be dead, Thranduil thought. You wished he never resurfaced.

"What did you say?" The elf demanded, pointing his long silver weapon to the thing's forehead. The orc cackled. "Do not play with me, filth, or I will make your skull the centerpiece for tomorrow's meal." It snickered again.

"Did you think Azog would have him killed? After all the work he had put into him? Ha!" It choked on its own blood, convulsing slightly.

"Father, it makes no sense," Legolas protested. Thranduil threw on of his hands up to stop him talking. The prince closed his mouth, glowering.

"What work would Azog put into a dwarf?" The orc smiled, or at least tried to, as blood trickled from the sides of its lips.

"Don't ask questions you don't want to know the answer to." Thranduil thrust his sword forward, so that it barely pierced the already mutilated-looking skin of the orc. More black liquid oozed over the creature's brutish face.

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to know." The orc's beady eyes twinkled, but when it opened his mouth, it did not properly answer the current question at hand.

"Your elven dwarf was fished out of the river by the light-headed one, and is no doubt on his way with them to the mountain they seek." It gave a great guffaw of laughter, before continuing. "With it back in his system, Azog has exactly what he wants." The king was getting more and more aggravated, as he could feel the tension and pressure building in his forehead.

"Father, you should-" The prince protested.

"Quiet, Legolas!" He snapped, waving the sword in a small circle around the monster's head.

"What is back in his system?" The orc shook its head, a low his of laughter escaping from its hellish maw. "Answer me!"

"Oh come, elven king," it muttered. "You are wise. I am sure you can figure it out." Legolas and Tauriel exchanged a concerned look. Neither of them would really know what the orc was talking about, but Thranduil remembered.

"What is it? What's wrong with him?"

"We don't know."

"What do you mean?"

"The symptoms don't match anything in any of our medicine volumes."

"What are you trying to say?"

"King Thranduil…"

"Do you have any sort of diagnosis?"

"No, sir."

"Why?"

"We have never seen anything like this before."

Thranduil had lied to the dwarf when he told him how he decided to keep him. Instead of the heartwarming story he lied about, the King of Mirkwood had found himself in a win win situation. Either the dwarfling died of whatever sickness he carried and the elf could taunt Thorin with the prospect of retrieving his nephew's corpse, or he could raise the child as his own and trade him with the would-be king in exchange for his desired jewels. His motives had never been noble, and Kili was never more than a bargaining chip.

He had never thought the bargaining chip came with an orc's mark as well.

"You speak of his sickness he arrived here carrying," Thranduil accused. The orc stared at him for a moment before answering.

"It was no sickness elf." He said the king's race with disgust, spitting fluid across the floor. "Sickness implies it was an accidental force of nature." It cackled. Tauriel tightened her grip on her knives. Legolas tried once again to intervene.

"Father, you are letting this creature play with your head."

"Leave us!" Thranduil snarled. His son looked back like he had been insulted. His eyebrows were both reaching towards his forehead. His lip curled. Yet, the elf obeyed, bowing to his father and ruler.

"As you wish, my King." With one last cold and dry look, he was gone. Thranduil locked eyes with Tauriel for a moment. She nodded, just slightly, indicating it was safe for them to continue their interrogation.

"If it is not a sickness, dear orc," he snarled, "then what is it?" Once again, the orc shook its head.

"That is more than I can say." The orc licked the top of his mouth and lips.

"I will take your life if you do not elaborate!" Thranduil was threatening, the sword applying added pressure to the head once more. He would get this information if it took him a lifetime to find it. Kili was under some sort of influence, and was alive, now traveling with his long lost family. This orc claimed it was part of Azog's plan, and that it was all deliberate. But, without knowing the specifics of such a plan, the words the orc spoke were close to ridiculous, and would have no use.

"I knew my life was out of my hands the moment I was captured." It responded.

"I give you one last chance," Thranduil whispered through gritted teeth. "What is the sickness, and how does in fit into the plans of the Pale Orc?" There had been a time that the elven king did not particularly mind Azog, the Great Defiler, as long as he kept the orc packs out of Mirkwood. As he saw it, Azog was almost on his side. Both craved revenge on Thorin Oakenshield, and both wanted to use any means necessary to achieve those ends. Now, he saw his ways were even more intertwined with the hideous creature's. Both would use Kili to get what they wanted, but now they had both overstepped each other's boundaries. This was war.

"The sickness is your own treatment and race!" The orc burst, and lurched towards Thranduil. Tauriel held him back, causing further blood to splatter across the floor. "I will not tell you, nor will you ever know before it is too late!" In one swooping and perfectly planned motion, the sword separated the creature's disgusting head from its even more grotesque body. Tauriel winced. Silence filled the main hall as they watched the head slowly roll away from them and down the small set of stairs. Its body slumped to the ground in front of the two elves. For a moment, they did not speak, simply listening to the dull thuds and watching the body part's descent away from them.

"We could have gotten more information from him." She muttered, sheathing her knives and giving the king a wary look. While she may be slightly frustrated with him, this was a time that he needed her most.

"I doubt it would give us anything more than pointless riddles and vague lies to distract us from the real issue at hand."

"As you say my King." He handed her his black bloodied sword, which she gripped delicately by the handle. Thranduil paused, before finally speaking.

"You are to lead a search party. Track the Company of dwarves at all cost, and if you get an opportunity, then remove Kili from their group and bring him back. This is extremely important. Do you understand?" He had known she was the right person to ask, as she also shared a deep emotional connection to the dwarf they had now lost. She had not known Kili for very long, only since he had joined the elven guard, but the two had gotten along well and became as thick as theives. He was sure that there was some part of her that would accept.

"Would Legolas come?" Tauriel asked. At the mention of the name, Thranduil darkened.

"I leave that up to you," he announced. "But be wary if he comes with. You know how he feels." She nodded, her red hair rippling.

"Of course. I will ready my team at once." Tauriel turned and began to exit, but paused, looking over her shoulder. "But know, Thranduil, King of Mirkwood, that I am not doing this for you. I am doing this for Kili."

Author's Note Cont.: So that was that! Thank you for continuing to read this little story of mine. If you want to be notified when I post the next chapter (I am getting back onto my one chapter ever other day schedule. I promise) then make sure to follow the story, or me as an author. If you really, really liked it, then favorite this story. As always, please leave any feedback, predictions, etc. in the comments section. I love hearing from you guys. Until next time…