AN: I know I've been gone a while again. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I left the cliffhanger for so long...and I can't promise posting will get back to it's regular schedule now but there has been a breakthrough. I'm just taking life one day at a time now. So let's knock this sucker out once and for all, eh, and finally move on to another story! How about it? Are you with me for one final pull for the finish?
Ha ha...I didn't realize until I started this chapter that technically I just pushed Estel off a cliff.
Chapter Thirty-Three: Lost and Found
Estel barely dared to breathe. The footsteps were coming closer, and sounded right above his head. He squeezed his eyes shut, as though to will whoever was out there to just disappear.
A soft whisper broke the night, an unfamiliar voice asking a question.
A question in Elvish.
A second voice answered the question, and Estel's eyes flew open in recognition.
"Elrohir?" he called out in a hushed tone, almost before his mind realized what he was doing.
The voices were quiet for half a heartbeat, and for a moment Estel feared he had been wrong.
"Estel?" The incredulous tone of his brother's voice nearly brought tears to Estel's eyes. It was Elrohir.
He started crawling out of the bushes, gasping in shock as hands gripped his arms to help pull him out.
"Where have you been? We have been looking for you for hours," one of his brothers hissed, voice tight from concern rather than anger.
"They still have Legolas," Estel tried to explain, yelping as his brother tried to help him stand.
"Are you injured?" Elrohir—Estel assumed it was he, at least—asked in concern.
"Where is the prince?"
Estel glanced over toward the unknown elf. He could barely make out the elf's shape in the dark of the night, but could only assume it was one of the Mirkwood elves who had traveled with Legolas.
"This is Palandil," Elrohir explained. "Captain of the escort...Estel, where are you injured?"
"My leg...do not worry about me, you have to go rescue him."
"How many men are there?" Elladan asked, kneeling beside Estel.
Estel shook his head. "I do not know...there may be only a dozen, or they may have more I did not see."
"Do they know you escaped?"
"Yes," Estel hissed in pain as his brother's probing hands found his wound. "That's why I fell down the hill...they were looking for me."
Silence reigned for a few moments. "How did you escape?"
Estel swallowed. "Legolas...h-he distracted them. I did not want to leave him, but...he made me." He was afraid to look over toward the Mirkwood elf. Painful memories of the archery tournament flashed through his head...Thranduil's reaction to the attack in the clearing...he did not know what Palandil might say.
"What will the king do with you, Legolas?" Palandil muttered with a sigh. "We must hurry," he added. "The prince may be in grave danger."
"No," Estel interrupted, in a small voice. "The men who captured us...they are lead by an elf named Thilator."
He could feel the stillness in the elves surrounding him. "Thilator?" Elladan hissed the name, gently pulling Estel to his feet. "I thought he was dead?"
"He disappeared after Amarthwen's death," Palandil replied. "We thought perhaps he perished in the forest."
"But why would he attack now?" Elrohir asked, supporting Estel from one side as Elladan did from the other. "Did he give any reason?"
"He said Amarthwen was his sister," Estel whispered. "He...he blames Legolas for her death."
"As Amarthwen blamed Legolas for the madness in her own mind," Elladan muttered.
"But there is something else...he wants the throne of Mirkwood. He thinks he can use Legolas as leverage to gain control over Mirkwood."
"Quiet, Estel," Elrohir murmured. "That is not important. We will make sure he does not travel another day with Legolas in his clutches."
"We have to get you to a safe place first," Elladan added. "There is an inn in the village on the other side of this hill."
"No," Estel protested. "Leave me here...I'll hide again. You have to rescue him now!"
"Estel, right now the men are still out looking for you," Elladan replied, jerking his head toward the torches still visible through the forest. "Even if we could, it would not be wise to attack when they are so scattered."
"But he is in danger."
"And you are injured," Elrohir interjected. "As soon as your wound is cared for, we will go after Thilator."
"He could be hurting Legolas right now."
"We know." Elrohir's voice was so soft, Estel could barely hear it. "But he risked his life so that you could find safety...we cannot ignore that."
"And we cannot risk that you may be further injured," Elladan added.
"Please," Estel shook his head, trying to pull his brothers back unsuccessfully.
"You will understand some day, Estel."
Estel let his head drop, the throbbing pain in his leg seeming to grow with his grief. He did not see how he could understand...how could his brothers value his life so much above that of Legolas?
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Thilator was furious.
"Comb the forest, burn down every tree in the wood if you have to!"
Legolas fought the urge to flinch as the dark-haired elf abruptly kicked over an old barrel that had been sitting against the wall. "Find the boy!"
"But I thought you didn't need him," one of the men suggested hesitantly.
Thilator whirled around, pinning the man with an angry glare. "Tie him up," he growled, jerking his head toward Legolas. "Without the human to guarantee his cooperation, we will have to take more extreme precautions."
The man, grumbling something under his breath, grabbed a length of rope and jerked Legolas' arms behind his back, binding them tightly. The elf winced a bit as the rope bit into his wrists, but managed to hold his head high. "My father will never bow to your demands," he announced coldly.
The dark-haired elf muttered something, impatiently twitching a lock of hair behind his shoulder.
"He would sooner see me dead than give the kingdom to you."
Legolas watched as Thilator glared at the wall for a moment, then finally turned to face him. "By the time we are done with you, Prince, you will be begging your father to surrender the forest to me."
"Never."
His response sparked a bitter laugh from Thilator. "Do not be so rash, Legolas. Have I taught you nothing?" Thilator laughed again, his eyes growing crazed. "I see the lessons my sister and I so graciously gave you have lost their meaning."
Legolas grimaced a bit uneasily. Thilator was growing more unstable...he was quickly losing what little rationality he had remaining. "It is not too late," he said in a quiet voice, remembering Brithdil's final conversation with Amarthwen. "Release me...I will speak to my father on your behalf and you will not be harmed."
He bit back an exclamation of pain as he was viciously backhanded, his head striking the wall behind him.
"Carmian." Thilator's voice had dropped a bit in tone, and he suddenly seemed calmer. "Please do not abuse our guest in such a vulgar manner."
Legolas turned his head in time to see the angry light in the man's eyes as he backed away. "Why do you follow him?"
Carmian did not answer, as Thilator chose that moment to grab him by the shoulder and whisper something into his ear. "I must take my leave of you, Prince," the dark-haired elf said, bowing exaggeratedly. "But please, do take care not to ask foolish questions...I fear Carmian has no love for your kind."
Anxiety built in Legolas' chest as the tutor strode out the barn door into the night, barking orders to some of the men who were gathered outside. Carmian watched him leave, then casually turned back to regard Legolas.
"Get Corben," he muttered to one of the men near the door. "Tell him to bring the strap with him."
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"We will find Legolas as soon as you are taken care of."
Estel bit his lip in frustration. His brothers had taken to giving him the same response every time he asked why they could not simply leave him at the inn and go after the prince. To his mind, they could have left him at the edge of town and trusted him to get to the inn himself—there really was no need for the two of them to practically carry him the entire way.
"Do you not trust me?" he asked, growing more frustrated. He knew there was a time when they would have thought he would follow them no matter how badly wounded he was—and he might have done so tonight, had he not been convinced that his brothers and the Mirkwood elf could move more effectively without him.
"Of course we trust you," Elrohir replied. "But your leg must be tended to immediately."
"And the innkeeper may have information about the bandits holding Legolas prisoner," Elladan interjected. "Palandil and I will question him while Elrohir looks after you."
Estel suddenly stopped, startled out of his gloomy thoughts. "Palandil?"
"Yes, Estel, Palandil. The elf..." Elladan's voice trailed off as he suddenly realized the cause of his brother's concern.
"He is gone," Elrohir muttered, glancing over his shoulder.
"He went after Legolas on his own?"
"Perhaps merely to keep an eye on him."
"That was not particularly wise of him," Elladan commented.
"He was captain of the escort. It would be his duty."
The twins glanced at each other over Estel's head. As though by wordless agreement, Elladan gently slipped away from Estel. "I will follow him."
Elrohir nodded. "I will follow your trail as soon as I can."
Estel nearly protested again that he could find the inn on his own, but his comment was bit off when he nearly whimpered as he was forced to put more weight on his injured leg. Suddenly weary, he was glad of his brother's aide as he no longer knew if he could stand on his own.
"Almost there," Elrohir urged soothingly.
Estel bit his lip as pain shot up his leg with every step. He had not realized how much his rush to escape had wearied him, nor how much he had been depending on his brothers' strength. The inn was in sight, but the distance still seemed intolerable.
"Do you need some help?"
He started at the slightly-familiar voice, barely realizing that a man had slipped an arm around his back to help him walk.
Elrohir glanced over at the stranger, the frown crossing his features just visible in the light of the torch the man held. "We can make it," he said, his voice hardening.
"Please, allow me," the man insisted. "It is the least I can do."
Estel's breath caught in his throat. He knew that voice...knew it, and was thankful.
It was the man who had helped him before...the man whose kindness had stood out among the cruelty of his companions.
Estel did not know if the man had some plan for bringing him back to Thilator, but at that moment he did not care. All that mattered was that he had to know something of the evil elf's plans...perhaps something that could save Legolas.
Reviews? Flames? Tar and Feathers?
Minor spoiler below: do not read unless you either know the story of Estel's true identity (from the trilogy) or don't care about learning that information.
And before you throw rotten tomatoes, consider this: Elladan and Elrohir could not risk Estel's life for the simple reason that he the Heir of Isildur, though he does not know it yet. No matter how much they might have wanted to leave him in hiding and rescue their friend, they had to make sure he was out of harm's way first. Sorry, I was just envisioning mass protest over a certain part of this chapter.
Thanks to everyone who has stuck with my story through the dry spell...the best is yet to come.