Home Sweet Home

Thank you to those who reviewed the last chapter: Manwaithiel Melda, Martiny the one and only still and Legolas Greenleaf . Willizabeth (your review reply is at the end of the chapter again :P)

Part Nine

Kemen flew down the staircase as fast as he could. During his fight with Maegóre, he seemed to have injured his left leg - he walked with a limp, but he found that when he concentrated, it was hardly noticeable. Not only that, but his hair was in a terrible mess, flying all over the place, but there was nothing he could do about that.

Grabbing hold of the wall to stop himself from carrying on at the bottom of the staircase, he calmed his breathing and tried to think clearly. He knew quite well that he had had a lucky escape. In fact, he was surprised that neither of the brother's had caught up with him yet. It really was a stroke of luck and, even better, he couldn't hear anyone following him - well, he couldn't hear anyone at all, with the exception of the Elves in the dining hall.

The dining hall. Thranduil.

All of a sudden, Kemen knew what he was going to do. Smoothing over his hair in a desperate attempt to look more presentable, he took a few deep breaths before charging over to the dining room entrance doors, throwing them open and running into the room.

Everyone went deadly silent at his (re)appearance and watched as he ran all the way to where Thranduil was sitting, finally pulling to a stop right in front of him.

"My lord," Kemen gasped. "It's Legolas- and- Maegóre- they're hurt, they've been attacked, you've got to go and help them- please-"

Thranduil had gone terribly white as he listened to what the Elf was saying. Kemen looked bedraggled and upset, as though he were about to burst into tears. He desperately wanted to think that Kemen was making it all up as some kind of sick joke, but he knew it wasn't. What Elf could act that well? What Elf would do it, anyway?

"Who?" Thranduil urged, already out of his seat and searching Kemen's face for any, any at all, answers. "Who has done this, Kemen?"

"It was- the Naugrim- he was hiding, he attacked them. I tried to help, but, my leg-!" Kemen insisted, holding on to the table for support as Thranduil glanced at his leg, which was clearly wonky. "I'm sorry," Kemen continued, breaking down in sobs. "I tried but- I couldn't..." As though with great effort, he stopped his tears and rested in heavy breathing. "I couldn't..."

Thranduil looked at him in sympathy, but there wasn't time for that; he needed to get to his sons. He was already motioning to around twenty guards and warriors, but just before rushing out of the room, he turned back to Kemen.

"Where? Where are they?" He demanded.

Kemen looked into the king's trusting blue eyes, so like that of Legolas's, and swallowed painfully. "In his old toyroom - Legolas's old toyroom."

Nodding, Thranduil backed away, wanting to run from the room, but his legs were like jelly, he dared not try. "Get yourself to a healer, Kemen." Thranduil called as he finally reached the other warriors and they began rushing to the room.

Blocking out the sounds of the worried mutterings from all the others in the room, Kemen smiled limply to himself. That would delay those two - or, indeed, anyone - from reaching him in time to stop him. Now, he was free. None stopped him as he strode from the room as well as he could with his leg, out of the palace, to the stables. Picking the nicest horse he could see - one with a lovely chestnut coloured coat - he jumped awkwardly onto her, smirking a little as he remembered that the chestnut beauty was, in fact, Maegóre's horse.

With that, he left the palace - forever. Stopping outside the gates, looking back, he pushed away the feelings of remorse he felt at all that had happened. It had never meant to turn out like this. Never. Now he was forced to leave, leaving his friends, his family, his life. But he knew that, should he stay, all that would await him was exile anyway. It wasn't worth it. Now he could slip away quietly. Few people would understand the matter; even less would understand the reason he had done it. No-one would understand. That was the way he liked it.

He had been raised by his brother. The reason for this was simple; his parents were dead. His father had died long ago, when he was a baby, by Orcs. At the time, he had been traveling through the forest as an escort for a group of Dwarves who had been passing through the forest. His mother had died not long after, from the grief. After that, his brother had looked after him. Said brother had later been killed during the Battle of Five Armies - by a rather confused Dwarf, no less. He had lost his whole family to Dwarves, and become bitter and twisted inside. The change had been gradual and barely noticeable to the skimming eye. But inside, all his anger and hurt and pain had been slowly rising until he could bare it no longer. This situation was the result.

Strangely, although he had not been able to kill the Dwarf, he had no doubt that he had severely injured him. He would settle for that. Finally, after all these years, he didn't feel the anger bubbling under the surface.

Taking one last look at the place he had always called his home, he made his way out of the forest and into the world.

Legolas stared at the floor where Kemen had been sitting. As though he could make the Elf reappear there with just his thoughts, he willed Kemen to be there again. Legolas hoped against hope that he was simply going mad, and Kemen had been sitting there all along.

Legolas knew he was desperate from that thought alone - he didn't know a single person who would actually hope to be insane, no matter how dire the circumstances.

"Maegóre," Legolas croaked. All of a sudden, his throat had gone dry. "Maegóre, Kemen is gone." His eyes drifted to the open door ruefully. Why hadn't he closed it?

"Gone?" Maegóre repeated in disbelief. "Gone? What do you mean, gone?"

"I mean he is not on the floor where we left him, and I cannot see a sign of him in the area. He is..." Legolas trailed off, turning to face his brother. He winced, noticing the wound on his brothers shoulder. Maegóre had so far done nothing to still the flow of blood, although if he had, it clearly hadn't worked. The sight of this only proved to anger Legolas further. "He could be anywhere by now!"

He took in a few calming breathes before replying to his brother. "Legolas, there is nothing we can do. He is not our priority. You need to go and get the healers, then we can think of what to do about the traitor." It pained him greatly to have to let the evil Elf get away, but Maegóre knew he spoke the truth. Being rational was one thing that had always been taught to him. He knew that in times of doubt he should go with his head, not his heart, no matter how frustrating or painful that was.

"You can't be serious!" Legolas snapped, wheeling around to face his older brother. "After all he's done, he will be leaving the palace, leaving the whole forest! He can't be allowed to escape!"

Shutting his eyes then re-opening them before answering, Maegóre's words tore at his younger brothers heart. "If you go after him, and not to the healers, then the Dwarf will die. Die! Is that what you want? Will you be that selfish? Risking his life just for personnel vengeance?" Seeing the hurt look on Legolas's face, the older Elf softened his tone. "Please, Legolas. Don't waste any more time."

Legolas nodded, casting an anxious look to Gimli, who lay on the floor, unconscious. The Dwarf's breathing was barely perceptible and noticing this urged Legolas on, out of the toyroom, hurrying to the bedroom door and looking to throw it open-

"Ow." Legolas whispered to himself. A small pain - it didn't hurt very much, but still - shot up his arm, the one he had used to try and throw open the bedroom door. The door, however, hadn't opened, had stayed shut, and the impact of this rebound caused the pain in his arm. Why on Arda was the door not opening? Confusion filled him at first, but it was quickly followed by the realization of what had happened - Kemen had locked the door on the way out. From the other side of the door. They were trapped.

Legolas, however, had never been one to give up at the first hurdle. Determinedly, he turned to face the window, before confidently striding across the room and taking the lock off the window - unlike the door, the window had been locked from the inside. An evening breeze quickly brushed into the room, and it was quickly followed by cool air. Not to be distracted, Legolas proceeded to put one leg through the window.

"What are you doing?" Maegóre asked. He had managed to crawl out of the toyroom, but from the pained way he held his injured shoulder - and from the sheer amount of blood that squeezed through his fingers - it had clearly cost him.

"Stop moving." Legolas ordered quickly. "Look at yourself, Maegóre!"

"What are you doing?" Maegóre repeated, ignoring Legolas's words but accompanying his with narrowed eyes.

"The door is locked." Legolas answered. His attention was then caught by something moving outside. The sun was beginning to set, casting a slightly orange tint to the sky, but Legolas paid no heed to that. Staring, he watched as a figure ran from the palace doors, across the lawn to the stables. He couldn't identify the Elf directly - although it was obviously an Elf with dark hair - Legolas could tell that the figure was Kemen. He didn't need to see the slight limp that the Elf ran with to know that.

"What is it?" Maegóre asked impatiently. "Are you going to get help, or not?"

"I'm going." Legolas said with narrow eyes. Here, watching Kemen openly running, leaving, escaping, getting away with what he'd done, made it all the harder for him not to go after the Elf. Once more, he slipped one leg and then the other out of the window, until he was sitting on the windowsill, watching Kemen hurry into the stables. For his getaway horse.

Stop this, Legolas told himself, concentrate on what's important.

Legolas eyed the handily placed tree, with it's nearest branch just two or three feet away from the window he was sitting on. He could reach the ground from there. Well, he could easily just jump from the windowsill, but he felt more comfortable using the tree.

Glancing worriedly back at his brother who gave him an encouraging nod, Legolas leapt into the oak tree and was quickly concealed by the voluminous number of leaves. He could still see into the bedroom, though. He would have continued to the ground and into the palace had he not been distracted by a very loud noise coming from the room he had just left. The noise came somewhere between a crash of something very heaving falling to the floor and the sound of a door being opened very violently. Legolas peered into the bedroom, astonished.

The door had been slammed open so hard that its hinges had practically broken, and the door rebounded on the wall several times before finally drifting to a stop. Through the door had come an assortment of at least twenty guards and warriors, as well as his father. Why twenty had come - or even how they had come - Legolas didn't know, but he also didn't care. All that mattered was that help had come, his father had come, and it would surely be alright. He watched as Thranduil hurried to Maegóre's side, and half the warriors went into the toyroom while the rest explored the bedroom. About to return to the bedroom, he paused as he had second thoughts.

He was now free to go after Kemen. There was no need to get help any more and, without thinking about the matter for a second longer, he dropped from the tree and watched from its shadows as Kemen rode from the stables on a suspiciously familiar horse - his brother's horse. As Kemen rode from the palace, Legolas flew to the stables himself, hands frantically skimming over the walls for the spare weapons that were always kept there as he made his way to Arod's stall. His hand finally clasped the smooth wood of a bow, and while it was nothing on his own bow and arrow, this substitute would do. Taking the quiver, which would undoubtedly contain at least one Elvish knife as well all the arrows, he mounted Arod and then he, too, rode away from the stables and through the palace gates.

Legolas smiled. He could still see Kemen, that was how close he was to the other Elf. Kemen was riding fast, but Legolas had the advantage of Arod, a Rohirric horse. Catching up with Kemen would be so easy that it was laughable. And as Legolas made his was towards Kemen, he did laugh. But it was humorless. He was under no illusion about what would happen when he met Kemen again. And it wasn't a laughing matter at all.

Thranduil hurried over to where Maegóre was sitting, slumped against the wall. Dropping to the floor beside him, he noticed the alarming amount of blood covering his body.

"Maegóre," He whispered. "What happened? Where is Legolas? How did you get your injury? Where is the Dwarf? Are you alright? Do you need a healer? I will go and get you a healer!" When one of his children was injured or hurt, Thranduil couldn't help but fly into a frenzied panic. Now he stood up and made to go and complete the task he had described.

"No - Adar - wait." Maegóre replied. "I am fine. It's alright. The Dwarf - Gimli needs to see the healers, and quickly, because I do not think he will survive the night on his own."

Thranduil stared at his son in disbelief. "You're fine? You're fine? It is not alright, Maegóre! Right now I am considering feeding that Naugrim to the spiders, let alone take him to the healers!"

Maegóre was perhaps the only person who could stand his father when he got angry. Now, Thranduil was furious, but he put his skill to good use anyway. Shutting his eyes, Maegóre replied as calmly as possible. "How did you come here, Adar? Who told you we were in here?" However, he feared that he already knew the answer to these questions.

"Where is Legolas?" Thranduil asked, ignoring the questions he had been asked.

Now opening his eyes, Maegóre was careful as he replied. "Legolas? I am sure he has gone after the attacker."

"The attacker is lying unconscious in the old toyroom."

Maegóre laughed, humorlessly. "That's what he told you, is it? No, the attacker is right now fleeing the forest so that he is not punished for his actions. Legolas is following him though, and I have no doubt that he will succeed in whatever it is he plans to do to him."

"What are you talking about? I am not going to stand he while you loose blood so freely. We can talk of this after you have seen a healer."

"And Gimli."

"I am not going to help the one who has done this to you, Maegóre!" Thranduil exploded. "Speak sensibly! You are being taken in by his lies-"

"I am not the one who has been lied to, Adar, you have! It was Kemen all along!" Maegóre shouted, and his exclamation was met with only silence. The warriors who had accompanied Thranduil had gathered awkwardly in the bedroom, apart from a select few who remained in the toyroom with the Dwarf, guarding him. Since there was no-one for them to heroically defeat, no need to save either Maegóre or Legolas, they were at something of a loose end.

"Don't be ridiculous." Thranduil said finally.

"I think I would know whether the one to stab me was a Dwarf who had been kidnapped and starved for days or the cruel psychopath who did it to him." Maegóre replied coldly.

Thranduil appeared to be thinking this over before saying anything else. When he did, it was clear that he was nervous.

"And...Legolas has gone after this...Kemen?"

"Yes, he has." Maegóre said shortly. The events of the last half an hour or so had put him in quite a bad mood.

"You are certain that the Dwarf has had nothing to do with this?"

"Yes, Adar! He has been bound and no doubt hurt in that room for days. He is in no position to do anything." Maegóre sighed. "Please. Just take us down to the healers."

Thranduil nodded before turning to glare at the warriors behind him. "What are you standing there for? Go after them! Quickly! And somebody send the healers up. Do not let Kemen get away."

Rarely had anybody moved as fast as those warriors did upon hearing that command. Within mere seconds all that was left was some settling dust. Satisfied, Thranduil returned to Maegóre's side and settled down next to him.

"Maegóre," Thranduil said carefully. "Tell me what has happened."

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. I absolutely hated writing about when Thranduil arrived on the scene...but I got some inspiration in the end :)

Feedback, reviews and constructive criticism are welcome and highly appreciated...so you know you want to! Press the green button and GO!

Legolas Greenleaf . Willizabeth - Thanks for reviewing! I'm glad Maegóre came to the rescue, too. I thought that he needed some redemtion time as almost every seems to hate him so much! Thanks again, your review means a lot to me :)