AN: Small reference to The Hobbit in here. No spoiler, but it's something you'll get if you've read the book.
Yay! Something finally goes right in this chapter!
Chapter Forty-One: One Last Obstacle
Estel sat back against the tree with a sigh of relief. His brothers had stopped for a moment's rest, and were standing on one side of the path deep in discussion.
He glanced over to where his friend lay, still deeply asleep thanks to Elrohir's tonic. It was hard to believe that just the day before he'd been trying to convince his father to let them go riding. If he had known what that trip would bring...
The wind was picking up, he noticed with a shiver. Though the valley was protected from extreme weather, whether by design or some other force, Estel had seen enough of the surrounding lands to be concerned. The wind was sharp and cold, and smelled of rain.
"Estel?" Elladan's voice pulled the young human out of his thoughts, and he looked up as his brothers approached. "We've made a decision. Elrohir is going to take you to the inn in the village while I continue home with Legolas."
"Why?" Estel blurted out, looking from one brother to the other. "I thought we agreed we shouldn't split up?"
"The wind has changed," the older twin explained.
"It would seem a storm is approaching from the West," Elrohir continued. "It is far enough out that it could still pass us by, but if it does not..."
"It will break upon us in a few hours," Elladan finished. "You and Elrohir can wait out the storm in the village. I will make as fast as I can for home."
"No," Estel shook his head. "We're going together."
"And what if the rain catches us?" Elladan retorted. "You are not an elf, Estel. You could become ill."
Estel waved his brothers' concern aside. "And what if Corben's men catch you?" he asked Elladan. "You don't know if any stayed behind. What if they take you both and..." he swallowed, his gaze turning to Legolas' sleeping form.
The twins were silent for a moment, communicating through looks as though they could read each other's thoughts. He could tell they were hesitant.
"In any case," Estel broke in with a smile, "Elrohir has already supposed that Ada will lock me in my room for at least two weeks. It would be no worse if I should fall ill."
Elrohir smiled, shaking his head in amusement. "Very well," he finally agreed, nodding with his twin. "We must hurry, if we wish to beat the storm."
Estel clamored back onto his brother's back and watched as Elladan carefully lifted the sleeping elf, cradling Legolas' head against his shoulder.
They were off again, each step taking them closer to home.
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"We must find them," Corben growled, pounding his fist into the ground.
"You are wounded, Corben. You have to rest."
"They will be slow," Corben argued as Jorek tried to tend to his wounds. "They have the wounded and the dead to carry. They will be helpless against us."
Jorek sighed and shook his head. "It is not a good idea."
"I will not have my brother go unavenged."
The other man sat back, his frustration clear in his silence. "And if they kill you?"
"They will not."
"We have our own wounded to care for, our own dead to bury. Can we not wait for another chance?"
Corben sneered, pulling his arm away. "Are you a coward, Jorek?"
Jorek shook his head again. "At least consider it," he retorted, pushing himself up to his feet and returning to the rest of the camp.
The bandits' leader snorted in Jorek's direction, turning his gaze back to the knife in his hand. His fingers tightened over the handle as his brother's face entered his mind. No matter what it might take, he would avenge his brother.
He did not notice the slight whisper of motion behind him, nor was he aware of another presence until his good arm was pulled back in an unbreakable grip and a knife placed against his throat.
Corben glanced up and barely caught a glimpse of a hooded figure, glittering eyes hidden deep within the hood. "Do not move."
Corben swallowed as the knife's blade barely nicked his skin. "Who are you?" he demanded.
"You do not know?" his captor's voice sounded amused.
"No."
"I am sworn to serve my master with my life or death. I was sent as companion of our prince to ferret out the traitor to our realm...the traitor whose life you ended. Be grateful that I have chosen to show you mercy, for none save my king know my true purpose here."
"But who are you?"
"My name is unimportant. But understand that I am the least among my discipline...there are two others beside myself and they are even closer to the king than I."
"If you are so great," Corben rallied some of his remaining bravado, "then why have we never heard of you?"
"It is part of my duty that none but the dead should know of me. Mine is the last face you see, the last voice you hear, and to taste of my blade is to know death."
"You're going to kill me?"
"If I were, you would be dead already. I am here only to warn you."
"Against what?" Corben quieted as the blade nicked closer.
"Gather your people and flee. Leave this place and never return, for I will not be merciful should we meet again."
"But you are only one elf," he dared to comment, risking to guess that his foe was an elf.
"Would you like me to prove my boast?" the elf challenged, his voice dangerously soft. "Tell your people. My memory is long and my hearing keen...I will know if you return. If I hear rumor of your presence near this place no corner of Arda will hide you. I will find you wherever you flee."
Corben swallowed in apprehension. "What proof do I have that you are speaking the truth?" he managed to ask.
In reply, a small brooch was tossed to his feet. Corben's eyes widened as he recognized the brooch Thilator had worn on his cloak. "It is not so simple to move my people," he replied, hoping to buy some extension of time from this foe. It was one elf to be sure, but something in the elf's voice sent a cold chill down his spine.
"That is none of my concern."
The sheer callousness of the elf's voice chilled Corben anew. "We will leave, but we must have time."
"Do not try to trick me. I will know, Corben. I will be watching."
The pressure suddenly lifted from his neck, and he whirled around to find his captor. He was too late, the elf had melted into the shadows of the forest.
A strange chill ran down Corben's spine. He could feel eyes in every shadow. Suddenly, vengeance did not seem like such a good idea. But perhaps another day...perhaps the day might come when one of his family could avenge Carmian's death.
For the present, there were plenty of farms to the West. His people could find a living there...one way or another.
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"Here! I've found shelter!"
Elladan glanced up, blinking against the driving rain, as Elrohir called from the side of the path. "What is it?"
"A shallow cave...more of an overhang. It's not very deep, but it is dry."
"Tell me you carefully explored it?" Elladan muttered, following his brother. He heard Estel chuckle beside him and smiled...clearly the young human remembered the stories that halfling had told about the orcs in the Misty Mountains.
They were only a few hours from Imladris, but the rain had slowed them down. Estel's limp had grown more pronounced as he struggled through the terrain, and Elladan was concerned that Legolas might worsen if forced to endure the weather much longer. The prince was still unconscious, though he had stirred a few times and nearly awoken once.
Legolas was, however, still feverish, and though Elladan loathed any delay at getting his friend treatment they needed to find shelter.
"It's a cave," Elladan groused, gently setting Legolas back into what seemed to be a dry corner.
"Sit down, Estel," Elrohir pulled his brother down beside him, frowning a little. "I believe you are soaked clear through, Estel."
The young human tried to pull away from his brother. "I will be fine."
Elladan sat on the floor of the cave, shaking water droplets out of his long hair. "If it had not rained so much we might build a fire."
His twin sighed, leaning back against the back wall. "How long should we wait?"
All were silent for a moment. Elladan grimaced, shaking his head a bit, and climbed to his feet. "If I do not return before the rain stops, follow after me."
"Elladan."
"No, listen to me," Elladan held up a hand to cut off his twin's protest. "One of us can make it home faster on foot."
A silent moment passed, and Elrohir slowly nodded. Elladan was relieved that his twin did not protest further. They were about equally matched as runners, so any argument would have only wasted precious time. "Be careful."
Elladan nodded once to his twin's words, and bolted back into the driving rain.
The wind whipped his hair about, and he grimaced as cold drops made their way down the back of his tunic. His cloak was still wrapped around Legolas, though he doubted it would have been any good now.
He dodged around a tree, following the now-familiar trail back home. Knowing his father, there should be a patrol combing the path for any sign of the missing elves and human. If he could find the patrol he could lead them back to the cave...and get them all to safety before something worse happened.
Time seemed to pass out of meaning as he ran, though fatigue had no hold on him. He could not tell if it had been days or minutes when he finally rounded a bend to see an elf in the garb of the guard of Imladris.
"Lord Elladan," the surprised captain fumbled into a bow, glancing behind Elladan to see who was behind him. "Are you alone?"
Elladan shook his head, nearly breathless with relief. "My brothers and the prince...they have sought shelter some ways back. Come, I will lead you to them."
To his credit, the captain simply nodded and called for the horses. He ordered a handful of elves back on foot to alert Lord Elrond, and gave command over to Elladan.
It wouldn't be long now, Elladan thought, before they were safely home again.
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Elrond was waiting just inside the house as the patrol rode up. Used to critiquing his sons' appearances, he was relieved that Elladan and Elrohir appeared uninjured. The twins dismounted as gracefully as though they had just been riding for pleasure rather than riding through the rain with injured comrades.
He frowned slightly when he saw Elrohir helping Estel down. His foster-son was limping, and Elrond thought he could see blood soaking through the bandages on one of Estel's legs.
But Legolas...he sighed gravely when he saw the patrol captain hand the elf-prince down to Elladan. It should have been no surprise that Thranduil's son had been injured, but Elrond had hoped that Legolas could have avoided serious injury this time.
He stepped out onto the porch, meeting his sons' eyes with a tight smile. He knew the twins could read the truth in his eyes...the relief mingled with concern.
"Ada!"
A true smile spread across his face as Estel embraced him. For all that his youngest son was growing up, Estel was still a child in some ways. "Are you all right?" he asked, crouching a little to be at eye level with the young human.
Estel nodded, his eyes troubled.
"He saw it happen."
Elrond flinched inwardly at Elrohir's quiet words. He could not doubt that Legolas had faced some kind of torment at his captors' hands, but for Estel to have witnessed it... "Where is Palandil?"
"He was behind us, bringing Thilator's body."
"Thilator?" Elrond frowned, rising to his full height and placing one arm around Estel.
Elrohir nodded. "I will explain later."
The elf-lord sighed in agreement, turning his focus to the unconscious elf in his other son's arms. "Legolas?"
"We could do little for him," Elladan explained softly. "His wounds are extensive."
"I see." Elrond peeled away a corner of the cloak Legolas had been wrapped in to study the blond elf's face. A bruise darkened his cheekbone, the skin beneath pale. "I will do what I can."
Estel wrapped his arm around his father's waist, leaning against Elrond more for comfort, the elf-lord suspected, than for support. "You'll heal him."
He couldn't help but smile. Estel's faith in him was unshakable, it seemed. He hoped that this would not be the time that broke his son's trust.
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AN: So...has anyone figured out Corben's connection to one of my other stories?