Disclaimer: I don't own these characters and I make no money from this writing.

(Humble apologies for the delay – it's tough work, this writing business! I do hope this is worth waiting for.)

Estel and I stand on the bank of the river, gazing across the silver water and trying to make out what is happening.

He tugs at my sleeve and looks up at me, his grey eyes full of the light of his excitement.

"Legolas!" he says and points to the tall figure standing on a rock on the riverbank.

"Yes," I say, and I wave and receive an answering wave from Legolas. Then the prince holds up his bow and one hand, extended palm outward to us. "Stand still," I interpret, putting my arm round Estel's shoulders. "He is going to shoot a line over for us."

Estel looks puzzled but he does as he is told. An arrow with a thin line attached streaks across the water and buries itself in the soft bank just to my right.

"How?" says Estel, leaping over to the arrow.

"Don't touch it!" I tell him, reaching out for the line before Estel can dislodge the arrow. "Now – help me pull."

He watches as I clasp the line and begin to pull it across the river, hand over hand, while Legolas holds it up and tries to keep it out of the water. Estel sees what needs to be done and helps as much as he can, pulling harder when the thin line begins to draw a thicker line after it. This one sags into the water and quickly becomes heavier but we continue to pull it.

Estel digs in, dragging the heavy rope and now the chain which had tied the boat to the shore. The boat, running free in the water for a while, slips downstream and then stops as we finally begin to pull it to our side.

"Careful, Estel," I say. "Let the boat find its way. We must not drag it under."

If nothing else, we are both warm now with this exercise. Estel is breathing hard but is still pulling and the craft moves towards us.

"Not long now!" I encourage him. Legolas is watching us from the other bank.

"A little early to go swimming," he shouts, and his voice is thin against the music of the water.

Estel grins then reaches for the bow of the craft, pulling it close to the bank then leaping nimbly in.

"Come on, Elladan! I'm hungry!" he says, though he is eyeing the water suspiciously. "This'll be easy!"

I grab my bow, pull Legolas' arrow from the bank and send it back to him, line and all. I wonder if he is strong enough to pull the boat and both of us, then I see he does not intend to. He fastens the line to his horse's saddlehorn and we are dragged quickly across the water, the boat again swinging downstream with the current but securely anchored to the other shore.

Estel sits hunched in the middle of the boat and will not look at the water, his momentary bravado evaporating. I am preoccupied with keeping the craft balanced against the movement of the water and cannot ask him what is wrong. He is cold, wet and hungry – those must be the reasons for his mournful expression.

"Well now! Two drowned rats!" Legolas says cheerfully enough, though his expression belies his tone of voice. He helps Estel up the bank. "I suppose you'll be wanting dry clothes, a fire and some food now?"

"Yes, please," says Estel, looking hopefully at his friend.

Legolas smiles gently. "In a little while," he says. "First, let us go and assist your Papa."

I notice Legolas laying his bow aside so I follow suit, taking care that Estel does not see what we are doing. He runs ahead of us but his tiredness nearly betrays him as he trips and falls full length in the grass. He is up again immediately, glancing back to see if his accident has been noticed and we pretend we were talking to each other and saw nothing.

"What has happened?" I ask Legolas. "Why are you here?"

"I returned to the Ranger encampment this morning, for I wished to see that all was well with Halbarad. I was told what happened and followed as swiftly as I could."

"Is Father still in danger?"

"I could not help him until I rescued you. I would have told you to leave Estel on the other bank but he would not be safe there. We are watched, Elladan."

I know it. I can feel their presence. "Then we are walking into a trap."

"No," says Legolas firmly. "There is a trap, but it is not for us. But it is dangerous. Do you wish to try it, to save Elrond, or do you wish to turn away and take Estel to safety?"

"I cannot do that, if we are watched. He must stay with us and we must keep him close," I say, and Legolas nods.

"I did not wish to frighten the boy. I did not know what he would do."

"Estel!" I shout and he halts, turning back.

"What?" he calls, impatience in every line of his body.

"Come here!"

He doesn't move but at least he is waiting for us to catch up.

"What is it?" he says.

I had hoped to come up with some innocent reason for keeping him with us but none immediately presents itself. It is fortunate Legolas has more wit than I.

"A good soldier always scouts the situation and proceeds with caution."

"Do they?" Estel asks, narrowing his eyes. "I thought a good soldier should bravely face the enemy and go to meet them and fight them as best he can."

"Not always," says Legolas firmly. "Now, tell me what you can see."

So Estel, still looking somewhat puzzled by the latest information about being a soldier, looks around him and listens.

"I can hear a dog growling," he says at last. "But I can't see anything."

"Move forward, then. Slowly."

With a hand on his back to guide him, Estel moves forward, Legolas on his heels, ready to hold him back if necessary.

"I can see Papa," he whispers suddenly. I take a step forward and kneel by his side, taking hold of his arm so that he will not run to him. Then see Father standing in the middle of the clearing, the hounds at his feet.

"Yes. Look – he may not move," I tell him, pointing to the four men whose bows are ready to draw.

"But it's all right, isn't it, now that you've rescued me. Isn't it? They'll let him go, won't they?"

Legolas puts his finger to his lips. We are being approached. Two men only, with no bows but with swords drawn.

"You found them, elf," one says. "Good. Go on, join the master of Rivendell," he says, contempt in his voice. "Then get ready to do some bargaining for your life. Your father should pay something for you, I reckon."

I put my hand firmly on Estel's shoulder, warning him quickly to say nothing, and we walk forward.

"Be ready," whispers Legolas, as if I have forgotten that we are in grave danger.

"Quiet!" says the other man, a broad, well-muscled figure in clothes which reek of neglect.

Estel's pace quickens but I will not let him go. His eyes are fixed on Father, who has turned to him.

"Stay there!" Father shouts, and it is enough to set events in motion.

One of the men holding Father raises his bow and Father kneels suddenly, commanding Ivorwen's hounds as he does. The great animals leap, the arrow goes astray and then Legolas is running forward with a great cry and engaging one of the other bowmen, dispatching him quickly. He still has two to contend with and so do I, which takes my attention away from Legolas and my father.

"Stay close, brother," I say and he nods. He is breathing hard.

One man hits out at me while the other tries to grab Estel. I take a hard blow to the forearm while I try to pull Estel behind me. He is standing as close as he can, hampering my movements but obeying me.

I reach forward and grab my opponent's wrist, twist and watch his hand open. The sword falls point first to the ground.

"Elladan!" Estel shouts, clutching me. "Stop him!" He is being pulled from my side and is holding desperately to my belt.

Distracted, I try to hit the man who is holding Estel by his left arm and using all his weight to pull at my brother. I reach down for the dropped sword, my only defence, but in that moment Estel can no longer hold on and falls back, shouting and fighting against his new captivity.

"Let him go!" I shout. "Let him go!"

But the man puts his arm round Estel's arms and chest, and squeezes until my brother is silent and still.

"I'm keeping him," he says, backing away. My brother makes it as difficult as he can but he is no match for the man whose desperation shows in his face. He is becoming reckless.

"No!" shouts Estel, kicking back with one foot and trying to squirm free.

Then I am felled with a blow from behind and my sight fades for a moment as I hit the ground. I fight to stay awake and roll, getting my feet tangled in the feet of my attacker. He falls and I punch him. His head lolls.

I turn and see Estel being dragged further. He is limp now, and the man hoists him over one shoulder and prepares to run into the thick woodland.

"Legolas!" I shout, setting off after the man. "Legolas!" But he is no-where to be seen, though I can hear cries and the noise of battle as I shake my head to clear the fog from my mind.

I run hard and yet for a moment, the man I am chasing is lost to me amongst the pale trunks of the spring-green trees. I pause, trying to gather my thoughts. There is no one to help me. I cannot see my brother, I cannot hear him yet the track of broken ground is clear.

No matter how far I must run, I will follow this man and I will reclaim my brother, though all the evil in the world stands between us.

I follow, eyes on the footprints, the broken twigs, the trail of destruction and I see Estel, as at the end of a tunnel, giddy, terrified, too young for so much adventure.
Then, for a moment, renewed hope. The hounds come up to me, silent and stern, and I know that my father has sent them to me.

The chase begins.