The sun was beginning to set when Thranduil noticed the commotion coming from in his palace. There were angry shout and guards running in and out of the courtyard frantically. They tried not to be noticed by their king as he slowly walked out of the stables with his mount in tow but their efforts were in vain. They were angry and startled and Thranduil could only think of one culprit. As if to confirm his suspicion Thranduil turned just in time to spot as black haired figure leaping from a window that was a good five stories above the ground into the trees. Spurred on by curiosity and annoyance with his seemingly incompetent guards the elf king swung up over his elk and set off to track the raven haired male.
"Is it really that hard to keep track of one elf!?" Thranduil shouted over his shoulder at the scrabbling guards as he rode passed them nearly knocking them off their feet with his wake. It was a while before he picked up the practically nonexistent trail and the sun was nearly set. Yet he knew somehow that Himelon would travel through the night. He knew that the other feared neither injury nor death and that there would be very little that could detour him from his aim. He didn't know how he knew this. He just knew. By now there were about five horse mounted guards who had caught up with him including his red haired Captain.
"My King," said Captain began as he rode up lightly to be beside him, "Why does it matter? Is it not better that he be gone than to trouble ever more over him?" The captain's words had been pointed yet respectful. It was a good skill to learn and the question was very valid. Why was he so intent on keeping one of his kin against their will? Why did it matter if the raven haired elf left Greenwood? How could the desperate actions of one elf get to him in such a way? In truth he didn't really know.
"We cannot let a prisoner simply do as they please," Thranduil stated trying more to convince himself of it than his captain, "Word will spread of the weak will of the woodland realm if he escapes. How am I supposed to control a whole kingdom if one elf is allowed to do as he pleases against my orders?" His icy eyes had met the emerald orbs of the red haired captain but they lacked their normal edge. The Captain saw this and raised his eyebrows in question. The points the King had just made were more than valid but the starlight haired male's eyes betrayed the uncertainty in his heart. The red head didn't know why but his king was afraid. He was afraid although he hid it from most others and the king's fear stemmed from this one individual. To the Captain the fact that his king felt fear was more than enough reason to hunt down the trespasser and drag him down to the dungeons for eternity.
"We can catch him my lord," the red haired male stated softly, "You should return to the palace and take your rest." Thranduil would have been lying if he said he wasn't tempted by the offer but he would not. Himelon needed to be caught and he was going to be there when the raven haired male ran out of road.
"No." that had been the only word to escape Thranduil's lips before he spurred his elk on. There was no time or room for argument and he had no desire to leave any. If for no other reason than to ease the ache in his chest and clarify that he alone was in control of every situation Thranduil would catch Himelon and bring him back. Not to the dungeons though. He did not think he could handle to have any more violent nightmares.
Himelon had been running as fast as his elf legs could carry him. Some may have called his retreat cowardly but it was not. There was nothing cowardly about freeing oneself from captivity. He rand until the sun was far beneath the horizon and only the moon and stars lit his path. He ran on and off the elven path in attempt to lose the individuals who were most certainly pursuing him. He ran until the forest gave way to large open rolling hills covered in grass. As he broke free of the seemingly endless Greenwood Himelon let out a sigh of relief and, after putting a good mile or two between himself and the wood, flopped down in the grass to rest until morning. At least that had been the plan until the faint sound of hoof beats in the distance roused him.
The raven haired elf rose sharply and fixed his eyes on the tree-line of the forest. Confusion and annoyance gave way to terror as he made out the shape of six riders coming straight for him. Cursing and running ever harder Himelon raced along through the hills. It became very obvious very quickly that it didn't matter how hard or fast or long he ran the people following him would not give up.
"Stubborn aren't you?" Himelon growled as he turned to face the group at his heels. They were still a bit away from him but they were gaining. It was now encroaching in on the sixteenth day since he'd eaten and he'd only slept once in a fifteen day period. Himelon was tired and knew deep down that he could not realistically outrun the horses and elk on foot. His hope was to make it to the house of a skin changer before they overtook him. Skin changers weren't exactly aligned with anyone and it would make for a relatively good neutral ground on which to rest. Unfortunately that was not to be.
Just as the silhouette of the house came into view the horses and elk caught him. Barring his path forward, backward, left, and right they encircled him. There was no where to go and little that could be done. Out for reflex and sheer panic Himelon had drawn his sword and now had all but one of his pursuers aiming their bows at him. He was terrified. Terrified that they would kill him on the spot or that they would drag him back to the dungeons. But more than that he was terrified he'd have to hurt or kill that starlight haired elf before him. The mere idea tore at his very soul and Himelon was barely able to conceal the tears threatening to spill over his eyes with a blank and cold expression. If he was to die he would not let a single tear fall.
As the group overtook their quarry Thranduil found himself both amazed at how far the raven haired elf had gotten and angry that he had even attempted such a thing. It was not as if he'd been locked up to rot. He'd been given more or less free roam to explore and this is how he repays the king's kindness. With violence and insolence. The fact that Himelon had had the nerve to draw his blade when he was clearly surrounded was even more annoying. Yet it was when he had seen a single drop of liquid collect at the other's pale blue eye that Thranduil's annoyance began to melt into an unnerving worry. Did Himelon truly think that he would be killed for running? Did he really have so little faith that the King could stay the hands of his own men? Or was it distrust of his own kin or madness that drove such thoughts? Thranduil had little time to think on the matter before one of the younger of the group nearly let an arrow fly.
"Stop." the order had come strongly and sharply from the starlight haired king. The youth on whom his piercing gaze was now fixed stuttered slightly before lowing him bow. When Thranduil dismounted his elk the others of the group lowered their bows as well. Thranduil felt as though he was approaching a wounded animal from the way the raven haired elf before him recoiled and glared at him. It was all to similar to catching a frightened dog. Gently and carefully he advanced toward the other.
"I have not come to harm you," Thranduil began fluidly speaking in as gentle a tone as he could bring forth, "Only to return you to Greenwood. And you will be returning." The last statement had been more forceful and had been intended to be a command. Thranduil wanted to put any ideas of bolting again as far from Himelon's thoughts as possible.
"Why?" The raven haired male's question had been more of a demand, "Why are you so set on keeping me? I am nothing but another face to you." Himelon was hardly holding himself back. His voice hitched and his face flushed in anger. He was being violently pulled from sorrow and anger and fear and suffocating hopelessness. It was irrational and made no sense. He'd been through thousands of battles and situations that could have claimed his life and never felt this way. He'd been capture and tortured by orcs more than once and had faced down the armies of Mordor with his kin. And yet nothing could compare to the things he felt now. It was as if every emotion assaulted him at once and his breath and vision were fading. The world spun and the King spoke something as he fell. It fell on deaf ears and as his mind followed the silver clad king's movement to crouch beside him the world went black.