AN: Wow. A lot has happened since I was last able to update. Sorry for the delay, and I'm actually not going to go into everything here. I kind of explained things in the author's note on the last update to This Happens Far Too Often, and there's more information on my profile if you really want to know why I've been so absent for the last couple of months.
This chapter contains references to the events in Beginnings. Some of them might be considered spoiler-worthy, so if you haven't read that story and are concerned about any part of it being spoiled, you may want to check it out before continuing in this story. It's nothing you have to read first, but just if you wouldn't want anything in another story spoiled, you might want to go read that one.
Chapter Thirty-Two: Escape
It was an old barn.
That was Estel's first impression of the place they were brought. Night was falling and he could not see much of the surrounding area, but once he and Legolas had been pushed inside the structure and a lamp had been lit he'd easily identified the building.
He half-closed his eyes in concentration, stumbling to the ground with a gasp as one of the guards pushed him down to sit against the half-rotten boards. He knew this place...didn't he?
Estel's eyes snapped open, and he craned his head around to find his friend. The elf was several yards down against the wall, knees drawn up to his chest and chin resting on them wearily.
"Excuse me," Estel called, managing to catch the attention of the man who had been helping him earlier. "Can I go sit with my friend?"
The man crouched down beside Estel, shaking his head. "The master wants to keep the two of you separated," he replied.
Estel frowned inwardly. "But my leg...I think it's getting infected." He managed to put as much of a youthful tone into his voice as possible, to make him seem younger than he really was. He felt a little guilty about using the man's sympathy against him, but escape was more important at this point.
The man hesitated. "I should ask Carmian."
"But my friend has had training as a healer," Estel protested, hoping the man couldn't catch that he was lying—even though his brothers often said Legolas had seen enough healers in his life to become one himself. "At least let him look at it?"
"I..." the man hesitated again, glancing over to where Thilator was in a close discussion with a few of the other men. "Only for a moment," he replied, standing up and grabbing Estel's forearms to help him to his feet.
"Thank you," Estel whispered, hissing in pain as he hobbled over to Legolas' side. He sank wearily against the wall of the barn, but forced himself to focus on his friend. "Are you all right?"
"I am so sorry I got you into this," the elf replied, his voice so soft Estel could barely hear it.
Estel blinked in confusion. "What do you mean?"
Legolas raised his head to meet Estel's gaze. "They will not let us go," he said. "Thilator...he will not rest until I am dead."
"He won't kill you," Estel replied, shuffling closer.
"You don't understand—"
"No," the young man hissed. He glanced over to where the man was still standing guard over them, a suspicious look forming on his face. "You need to look at my leg," he whispered.
"Is it worse?" Legolas asked in concern, turning and gently prying at the dirt-crusted bandage.
"It does not matter," Estel shook his head. "Legolas, I have an idea."
The elf froze. The barest hint of a smile flickered across his face before he regained a serious expression. "You know, I have learned to fear that phrase when one of your brothers says it. Should I fear it with you as well?"
Estel snorted, wincing as Legolas pulled the dirty bandage off of his wound. "I know where we are. Remember when I told you about the first time my brothers took me hunting? It was only a few miles from here...the village we saw on the way was the place they took me after I broke my leg."
Legolas looked up, tearing a slightly-cleaner strip from his tunic to bind around his friend's wound. "What are you planning, Estel?"
"I know someone in the village. My brothers take him supplies every winter and help him clear his land every spring. If we could get to his house he would hide us and send a message to my father."
The elf had remained silent while his friend explained his idea. "Go on without me," he countered. "You can make better time on your own."
"No," Estel refused. "We can slip out before moonrise. I cannot walk all the way back to Imladris, so I could go to the village while you return to the valley. There should be search parties out by now—once you find one you could come back for me."
Legolas shook his head. "No, Estel, you must go alone. I will distract them."
Estel froze. "I thought I already said I would not leave without you."
"They will be less likely to follow you if I am still here," the elf replied, murmuring an apology as he tightened the bandage around Estel's leg. "Thilator is bent on his twisted desire for revenge...he will do nothing about your escape, whereas if I leave he will send his men in search of me."
"I won't leave you here alone."
Legolas managed a smile. "There are times when even friendship must stand aside for reason. If you do not go alone, there is no chance of either of us escaping."
"I will not leave you alone," Estel repeated, crossing his arms and frowning at his friend. "We can escape together, there must be a way."
"Estel," Legolas sighed. "There is no way. Trust me...I will be fine. You will likely reach the village even before they discover you are gone."
Estel began to protest again, but the gentle pressure of his friend's hand on his shoulder stilled him. "It is the only way," the elf said. "I will be fine...Thilator will not kill me yet."
The young human swallowed at his friend's words. Yet. Legolas believed Thilator would kill him. "C-can you distract the guards?" he asked, feeling an awful knot build in his stomach at the thought of leaving his friend in danger while he escaped.
Legolas nodded. "Stay here. Make for the crack in the back of the barn when they are distracted, I will hold them as long as I can."
Without another word, the elf slowly stood, his graceful movements belying any pain he might have felt from the treatment he'd received from his captors.
Estel swallowed down his fear and forced himself to his feet.
In his mind, he knew this was the only way to get help...but his heart was still screaming against it.
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"Here!" Elladan dropped to one knee, holding his arm up to catch his brother's attention.
The faintest impression of a heel showed in the dirt, barely noticeable by the faint light of the moon. "We're still on their trail," he commented, gesturing to the print.
"The same men...do you think they're taking them to the village?"
"I do not believe so," Elladan shook his head at his brother's question. "Remember the cave? They would not have paused there."
"The horses," Palandil added. "There were hoofprints around one of the caves...there are none here."
Elladan glanced wryly at Elrohir. He was so used to tracking with his brother and no one else, it was still hard to adjust to the Mirkwood elf's presence. But Palandil had proved to be a good addition to their party—the elf's ability to communicate with many of the trees had kept them on the right path.
"The moon will set in a few hours," Elrohir noted as Elladan stood.
"We cannot stop," Elladan replied. "We'll go as far as the village, if we have not caught up with them by then we can ask around in the village, see if someone there might know more about these bandits."
"Bandits?" Palandil asked.
"It is only an assumption," Elrohir replied, nodding at his brother's words. "We do not know if this was anything other than a random attack, if Legolas and Estel were simply taken prisoner by thieves."
"If you believe that," the Mirkwood elf replied dryly, "you do not know the prince very well."
Elladan let out a short laugh, clamping down on his amusement at Palandil's words. "Nor Estel. We should never have let them out of our sight."
"That doesn't always help...remember the tournament?" Elrohir commented. "They were in our sight, and still managed to almost get eaten by spiders."
"As much as I would enjoy hearing these tales," Palandil interjected. "It is growing darker still. The tracks are faint enough, we would not want to lost them completely."
The twins agreed, and in a moment the three of them were off again, heads bent to catch any sign of the faintest track.
But to Elladan, finding the tracks did not matter so much any more. He had a feeling they would find their answers in the village.
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"What are you doing?" Carmian demanded, grabbing a double handful of Legolas' tunic and shoving the elf back a pace. "I told you to stay put."
"Unhand me," Legolas replied, throwing every ounce of his regal bearing into his gaze. "You will release me, Human."
Under normal circumstances he did not like to remind those around him of his status as a prince of Mirkwood, but now it was time to make sure these men knew just who they were dealing with.
"Under whose authority?" Carmian sneered, shoving Legolas back again until the elf was up against the wall. "In case you haven't noticed, we aren't taking orders from you."
"You would take orders from an outcast as lowly as Thilator?"
"Outcast!" one of the men shorted in derision. "He's going to be king of Mirkwood!"
Legolas fought down his surprise. "And just how will he manage that?" he asked, pushing Carmian back with considerable effort, his aching muscles twinging.
"I will have you, Master Legolas," the thin, sneering voice of the former tutor caught Legolas' ear. "The king will bow to us once he sees what has happened to his precious son."
Legolas heard one of the men gasp, and another swore softly. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of Estel creeping toward the back of the barn, concern written across his features.
It was time to act.
Just as Carmian and another man grabbed his arms to haul him back to the other side of the barn, he let his legs collapse and hung as deadweight between them, throwing both men off-balance. He then swung out of their grasp, sending the one man tumbling to the ground and Carmian stumbling to regain his balance.
With a roar of rage, Carmian lunged at Legolas...and ran into the wall of the barn as the elf leapt aside at the last moment.
As though on cue, the rest of the bandits swarmed the prince, each intent on subduing him and possibly gaining retribution for their fallen leader. Legolas fought them off as best as he could, but knew that even if he were completely fit he might have trouble defeating this many foes in hand-to-hand combat.
Through the corner of his eye he saw Estel slip out the momentarily-unwatched crack in the back wall of the barn, disappearing into the darkness of the forest beyond.
A moment later, a hand tangled in his long hair and pulled his head back, a blade nesting against his throat. "Do that again and I'll present your dead body to your father rather than waiting until you're broken," Thilator sneered. "I was going to let him see you alive one last time...just in time for him to announce his unfitness for the throne."
Legolas swallowed. So Thilator was not just after revenge...he was planning a coup.
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Estel stumbled through the dark woods, biting back a cry of pain as his injured leg twisted underneath him. He stopped to lean up against a tree for support, pressing one hand against the bandage Legolas had wound around his wound.
It didn't feel like any blood was leaking through...but he couldn't be sure. The scent of blood, he knew, would attract any predators in the area—and for the life of him he couldn't remember if wolves had been reported this close to the village.
He fought his way on in the direction he knew the village to lie, leaning heavily against the trees for support. His ears were straining back toward the barn, listening for any sign that his escape had been discovered, and any sign that Legolas was in even more danger.
His heart thudded painfully at the thought of leaving his friend alone. Not only had he left Legolas alone in the hands of a sadistic and mad elf, but he also knew his friend would likely be punished for his part in Estel's escape.
The young man stopped, glancing back toward the barn. He could not leave his friend alone...he had to go back to help him.
Estel froze in mid-step as a dozen torches suddenly sprang into view. The men were shouting to each other, spreading out into the forest.
His escape had been discovered.
All thoughts of returning to his captors fled his mind. He turned and ran, part of his mind not caring about the noise he made while the other part thought, rationally, that the bandits' own noise would cover the sounds of his escape.
His feet flew out from under him suddenly, and belatedly he remembered that the barn had been situated in an area somewhat higher than the village, and that to reach the village he would have to descend a rather steep hill.
Gritting his teeth against the pain, Estel curled up into as tight a ball as possible as he tumbled down the hill. His leg caught on something and he very nearly cried out, managed to clamp his teeth on his lip just in time.
Estel finally came to a stop, rolling into a rather dense thicket at the base of the hill. He fought for breath, gasping against the pain in his chest from his fall. Whether he was still in one piece remained to be seen, but he lay still for a moment to regain some sense of where he was.
It was then that he heard it; the slightest sound of a footstep in the forest around him. He could not see a torch, but knew beyond a doubt that one of the men had found him.
Estel thought he might have imagined it, but heard another step, and another. Someone was coming closer...nearly upon him.
He froze, closing his eyes as though willing himself to become invisible. The footsteps were coming even closer...if he made a sound, he'd be captured again.
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Mwahahahaha! Evil Cliffie Yuggster is back! Oh, wait...I mean: "Eek! Don't hurt me!" I'm sorry, but it's hard not to have a cliffie when you're this close to the end of the story! But I promise, something is actually going to go right for at least one of our heroes in the next chapter.
There are only eight chapters left in this story. That's right, eight. This monster is almost finished, and if I ever attempt anything like this again in one straight shot (as in, I should have taken breaks and written other stories in between this story's parts), you all have my permission to have me committed.
Also, for those of you interested, An Impossible Choice, the sequel to Bad Company is pretty much ready to go. I'm just waiting until I wrap this one up to start that one. I'm actually trying to get a couple of chapters written in between my other postings, so I may be able to post the first chapter as soon as I post the last chapter of this story.