A/N I can not tell you glad I am that the weekend is finally here! It is has been one looong week.
Disclaimer: not mine.
Chapter Three
Aragorn kicked his chair back, propping one foot up on the wooden desk as he twirled a quill effortlessly in his right hand. Small droplets of ink went flying in all directions, but the man seemed to neither notice nor care. The desk was organized neatly with parchment and several important looking documents that cared various seals, many of which where his own.
A sharp knock sounded against the door and Aragorn glanced up, letting the chair crash back to the ground as he hastily took his boot of the desk. "Come in!" he called, brushing at some of the dirt that was now scattered across the papers. A young boy pushed open the door, clutching something tightly in his trembling hand.
He was clearly nervous to be in front of the king and Aragorn smiled gently at him, trying to put him at ease. This boy should be glad that I have more sense than my brothers, he reflected, before speaking, "Yes," he prompted.
The boy stared at him with wide eyes for a moment, before snapping to attention with astounding speed.
"Your highness," he managed to say, "Mast Darid from the messengers asked me to bring this to you." He held forth a crisp white envelope that, when Aragorn took it, bared the Ithilien seal. "Since Lord Legolas isn't here, he figured you would be the best person to deliver it too."
Aragorn nodded, his surprise growing as he flipped the letter over and found Legolas' name indeed printed neatly in the middle with black ink.
"Thank you, you may go," the king said, smiling the boy out the door. Frowning he glanced back down at the note as he put his feet back up on the desk, before shrugging. Legolas and the letter had probably crossed pathways mid-way between Ithilien and Minas Tirith. It was more than likely the letter simply contained directions for Legolas to get his royal hide back to the colony, anyway.
Throwing the letter onto the desk, Aragorn went back to what he had been doing, thinking and twirling.
When the second letter came almost a week later, Aragorn was befuddled. He could understand one letter crossing paths with Legolas, but two! Shaking his head the man searched his desk, looking for the first letter that had been shuffled around and lost. When he finally found it, stuffed between two books and a stack of papers about the men in his service, he stood, hurrying off to find his most trusted adviser.
He found Arwen in their private sitting rooms, trying to convince an overly energetic Eldarion to settle down so that he could take his nap.
"Daddy!" the boy squealed, wriggling free of his mother and running into his father's outstretched arms.
"Come here!" Aragorn called, grabbing him up and spinning him around as the child screamed in delight.
"Aragorn!" Arwen cried pleadingly "I'm trying to calm him down!" Aragorn grimaced jokingly at his young son, who giggled and settled in his arm. The king threw a truly apologetic look at his wife, making her smile.
"Mommy wants me to take a nap, but I'm not tired!" the child explained, placing his hands on his father's face and turning his head towards him so that his attention was focused solely on him. He stuck out his lower lips and widened his eyes, blinking. Aragorn smiled down at him, trying not to laugh.
"You will do what your mother tells you to do," he stated, ruffling his dark, and rather unruly hair.
"But I don't want too!" Eldarion wailed, tears building up in his innocent grey eyes.
"But you get too," Aragorn said firmly, putting him back down, "Now run to your room and either your mother or I will be along shortly. To your room, nowhere else, do you understand?" Eldarion nodded, wiping at his face and Aragorn grinned down at him. Swatting him playfully, he watched as his son dragged his feet towards the door, which he slammed behind him.
Turning back to face Arwen, his smile faltered. "Can I talk to you?" he asked, coming to sit in the chair opposite hers.
"Of course," she answered, scanning his face intently. Sighing, he handed her the two letters and quickly explained what had happened.
"You don't think that he is in trouble, do you?" he asked anxiously when he had finished. Arwen didn't answer right away, her still ageless face thoughtful.
"I don't know," she answered honestly looking up at her husband.
"Because if he is, then it has been two weeks, and that greatly decreases survival odds…" he trailed off, not needing to say how little of a chance of survival Legolas had if he had been seriously hurt out in the wild. Arwen sighed and stood, prompting Aragorn to quickly follow suit.
"Write a letter to Ithilien," she urged, "Make sure that Legolas really is in any danger before you do drastic." Taking his hand in hers, she squeezed it tightly, gazing into his deeply worried eyes.
Aragorn opened his mouth, "But…" he began, but she shushed him softly.
"We can not do much until we know what is happening. If it makes you feel better, than send a couple of men out to search." Smiling up at him, she kissed him lightly and turned to leave.
Aragorn stood still for a minute, pondering her words as he tapped the letters against his palm before quickly leaving. He would compose a letter to Legolas' second in command and would indeed send men out. It was better to be safe than sorry, as he and Legolas and learned many times over in his youth.
Pacing through the gardens on his way to his study, the king never noticed a burly guard and a well dressed man standing next to each other, talking. Their eyes never left the king, however.
NOFINERFRIENDS
Another week and a half passed had passed when the third letter from Ithilien arrived, this time with Aragorn's name on it.
The king hardly waited until the door had swung shut before ripping the letter open, positively shaking with eagerness. Maybe everything was all right; maybe the letters had just been some huge misunderstanding. His worry and fears had been nagging at him, refusing to let him have any peace of mind. Unrolling the parchment, the former ranger's stomach dropped a notch. The note was not written in Legolas' familiar, gracefully, and neat handwriting, but rather a bold, unfamiliar hand. Pushing his chair back on two legs, he quickly scanned the letter, his face blanching with every word in the short note.
King Elessar,
You mean to tell me that Lord Legolas has already left Minas Tirith, in fact left more than three weeks ago?! Legolas is not in Ithilien, I assumed that he stayed longer than planned.
Needless to say I am extremely worried. I have elves out searching as I write, and will update you on any news I receive and would appreciate it if you would do the same.
Aragorn lowered the letter, his face now white like newly fallen snow. Legolas had been missing for, if he had done his calculations correct, almost a month. A month!
Standing, he gripped the desk tightly, feeling faint. His heart was pounding with what was surly unnatural speed and everything began to blur in front of his eyes. A month was a long time to survive. If he had been seriously injured, or taken captive by orcs...Shaking his head vigorously, he took three long strides to the door and yanked it open. Breaking into a run, he headed towards Faramir's office. He needed a bigger search party then what he had out right now and he would personally oversee it. He needed to find out what had happened before it was too late for his friend, if it wasn't already.
NOFINERFRIENDS
Madoc watched the king carefully out of the corner of his eye, pretending to be interested in a stall of finely woven, and rather expensive, cloth. He was in the market street that sprouted directly off one of the large courtyards, the one that would provide the quickest pathway to exit Minas Tirith. The king appeared there not ten minutes ago, dressed in grab that was surprisingly dirty and drab.
The ranger turned king was pacing back and forth in obvious agitation as his forehead creased in a permanent frown. Normally, he would have taken the time to talk to one of the many guards that surrounded him, but today it didn't appear as if he could even see them, so lost in his worry was he.
The assassin smirked to himself, moving off to another stall closer to Aragorn. He was almost positive that he knew what the king was concerned over and it made his day. He had begun to think that the king really had no clue whom the elf was and that the elf was merely someone who was very patriotic, as the king had not noted his absence for so long. But if the panic on the man's face was any indication, then they had been right all along.
Picking up a priceless vase, he peered closely at it, his smiling widening as he heard Aragorn give a muffled exclamation, followed by an exasperated sigh. It was accompanied by the sound of many hooves and Madoc allowed himself to swing around as many of people nearby let out sounds of awe.
A dozen or so soldiers in shinning amour and on fine steeds where parading into the courtyard. The king looked especially...normal along side them and Madoc wondered why he had chosen those cloths. They didn't make him appear anymore powerful, nor were they necessary, for a king had all the tailors he could want. Normally, kings wore much finer clothes for the simplest task. But, then again, this was no normal king.
The leader of the men on the horses, the son of the late lord, pulled up to a halt next to the king and leaned down. He passed over the reins of a beautiful chestnut horse and after exchanging a few soft words, the king swung atop, his famous sword swinging at his side.
Madoc watched the group of men ride past and grinned. It amused him that they were going in the wrong direction and didn't even know it. Turning, he placed the vase back down and began to weave through the crowd.
It minutes, he was arriving at the dungeon's door.
"Is Dirhéal in?" he asked the young guard who was assigned to Dirheal. The younger man knew nothing of their secret and Dirhéal had allowed him to have several days off to be with his wife, who had just given birth. The man knew that Madoc was an 'old friend' of Dirhéal's who was visiting, but that was it. He was kept out of the way by Dirhéal stationing him in the front where he wouldn't be a bother to them.
"Yes, he should be," the young man answered, pulling open the door.
"Thank you." Madoc brushed past him and into the dimmer room. Once the door was shut behind him, he called out Dirhéal's name. When no response was heard, he sighed, shaking his head in exasperation. He knew right where the other man was and he began to make his way towards the back of the prison.
"Dirhéal! I've got news!" he shouted again, hoping against hope that he wouldn't have to go all the way down to the prisoner to find the man. As it turned out, he was lucky and didn't have too.
"Coming!" the man hollered back in his deep voice and Madoc sighed in relief, dropping into one of the chairs next to the table that made up the guard's corner.
A minute later, the traitor appeared, huffing from the long climb up the rickety stairs, and stocked towards the assassin, exclaiming as he did so, "What news is this?" Reaching the table he dropped heavily into one of the chairs, causally flinging his blood speckled horse whip onto the wooden surface. Madoc gave the weapon a look of distaste, but chose not to comment on it at the moment.
"The king has finally realized that something is wrong." he stated, eagerness trickling back into his voice and leaned forward, his chest also heaving with excitement.
"Was he crazed with panic?" Dirhéal asked scooting to the edge of his seat and clasping his hands together.
"Just like a mother who has lost her child," Madoc answered, suddenly frowning as the other man excitedly pushed his oily dark hair away from his face and left a streak of blood in its place. The blood was clearly not Dirhéal's, however. Leaning forward he spoke in a rushed tone, his excitement draining out of him faster than a jack rabbit could run. "You're pushing him too hard. We can't collect a ransom if he is dead."
"He is perfectly fine! Well, maybe not, but he will live." Dirhéal scoffed waving away the other man's worry. "Besides since when do you care? Does blood bother you? Strange element for an assassin…" he sniggered, the insult barely veiled.
Madoc sneered in returned his eyes darkening in anger. "If you kill him, then you will pay double for my services…" he left the statement hanging, knowing that his the other man knew what he meant.
"Relax, Madoc," Dirhéal said after an uneasy pause. "Listen, I promise not to give that elf more than he can handle. But he is still our guest for a little longer, so I don't see what point there is in not 'entertaining' him."
Madoc nodded, though his hard eyes told Dirhéal that if he didn't deliver the elf and get a hefty ransom, then Madoc wouldn't have a problem about dipping his hand in Dirhéal's savings, through form of the money paid by the kingdom to Dirhéal's family if he was too die.
"Did you finish the letter?" he asked coldly. Dirheal nodded, a sly grin parting his lips. "And do you know how you are going to deliver it without giving us away?"
"I could mail it... or we could cause more terror in their lives."
Madoc sneered at the man. Once this job was over and all the money owed him was packed safely away, then he would be out of here. Dirheal's was no friend of his.
"You are sickening. Causing a quick death is one thing, but I can not understand your love for needless pain."
"You just don't have the stomach for that kind of thing, because you are weak." Dirheal picked up his whip, coiling and uncoiling it casually as it was no small matter that blood was dripping steadily from it and covering his hands. "If you want out, now is your chance. You just don't get any of the money.
Madoc laughed softly, "Money is the only reason I am still here. It certainly isn't for your lovely company. But what are you planning, Dirheal? I want to know in case it is something stupid."
"The king's son. He has no fears and is often escaping from those who watch over him." Dirheal left the statement hanging, his grin growing.
The assassin sat up straighter, holding up a hand. "We aren't killing him, Dirheal. I would kill any man or women you asked as long as you payed money, but I will draw the line at kids."
Dirheal's face fell slightly. "I thought you might say that. You are soft. In that case, I guess," the excitement had drained out of his voice and Madoc again wondered what was wrong with this man. "I guess we could give him the letter, telling him to deliver it to his father. It will still give them a shock that we are close enough to their family to have personally interacted with his son."
Madoc nodded once, agreeing. That plan actually wasn't too bad, he admitted to himself.
TBC...
Oh, well... Aragorn at least knows that Legolas is missing. That is an improvement, right... :)
Review Replies
Nameless: Well, he is at least still alive if not in perfect condition. I think Legolas just lives permanently in trouble and it is a rare moment when he isn't. He is amazing, that is for sure. I love my Legolas. ;) No problem! I am sorry that you had to wait for the update, though... :( But now you have it! :) Thanks!
Guest: *sigh* Another round lost to grammar and spelling... They are like my big bully who will never leave me alone. :) Someday, someday, I will win! Thanks, though, for pointing it out! I will do my best to do better and feel free to continue to point stuff like that out, I really do appreciate it. :) There may be a day when the LotR fandom will die, but it is not this day! Nor will it ever come as long as I am around. :) Thanks again!
LOTCR: Haha! When crazy fangrils are around, you had better run as fast as you can because if they are after you, they *will* get you no matter the cost. But Madoc and Dirheal deserve it. Aragorn is alive, but it doesn't sound like Legolas is doing so good. At least Aragorn is know aware of what is happening...sort of. I mean, he is headed off in the totally wrong direction but at least he knows that Legolas is missing. ;) Thanks!
ElvenPrincess: Haha! Yes, shout as loud as you can, maybe he will listen to us then! ;) Well, I am happy that you found it now. :) There certainly ins't very many post-WOTR fics, so I though I would try my hand at it. Thanks!