Thanks to Ilovevolleyball for the review, glad you like it. Here's the next chapter if anyone is still reading. Let me know what you think.
Chapter 9
Three riders slowly wend their way through the woodland around Imladris, following a well used path away from the Last Homely House, the tall, powerful horses almost guiding themselves between the trees as their riders each scan their surroundings intently for any trace of the errant elf whom they seek.
The brothers ride in silence, comfortable with each others company, avoiding undue haste in an unspoken agreement to ensure any vital clue is not missed along the way. They know their friend is on foot, as his mount was still in the stables when they left, and this combined with the fact that he is not at full health convinces them that Legolas can not be too far ahead of them despite probably having some hours headstart. At least, this is what they hope. They also hope that their destination is the correct one.
On discussion just prior to departing upon their search it had seemed to Estel the most logical place for the blonde archer to head for was the clearing in which he had received his injuries and as the twins agreed with him this is the goal towards which they now head. So far they have discovered no sign that Legolas has passed this way yet, as they are all aware of his ability to disappear into the woodlands as if his very existence melds with that of the landscape surrounding him, the lack of proof of his passage does not yet cause them concern. The fact that they also have no knowledge of exactly when he left the comfort and safety of Imladris and therefore no feel for how much of a headstart this has provided him also stops agitation from rising too quickly in their minds.
As he rides Estels mind begins to wander back to that fateful day. He can still vividly recall the sight of his friend lying in the stream with the two hateful projectiles protruding from his body, can still feel the horror that sight instilled in his mind, the fear in his heart that this was the end for the fair young archer, his best friend and loyal companion.
The two arrows. They are what worry him most of all. The two Mirkwood arrows. Given away by the fletching they bore. He had failed to take this in during the initial frenzied rush to ensure that life endured in the slight elven form lying so still before him and it was only after Elladan stopped him from casting the second arrow shaft aside as he removed it from its embedded tip that he had really taken notice of it.
" Why would someone from Mirkwood wish to kill Legolas, their beloved crown prince?" This unspoken thought has repeatedly run through his mind over the past few weeks with no hint of an answer to be found.
Unwilling to broach the subject too deeply with the young elf in order not to hinder his recovery to full health he has only been able to speculate on all the possibilities his fevered imaginings have been able to conjure up. He wonders if a recognition of the traitorous fletching and an understanding of the reason behind the attack is what has led to the abrupt and solitary departure of his friend and this worries him greatly yet for what reason he is not exactly sure.
Finally taking note of his surroundings once more Estel is surprised to find that they have reached their destination. The clearing is just as it is in his memory only without the heartrending sight of the fallen elf to mar its beauty. Glancing around the three riders dismount in unison and without conscious thought or speech, walk towards the stream within which the body of the archer had lain. Staring down at the very spot he has seen in his nightmares so many times since the attack Estel feels a gentle hand placed upon his shoulder and turns to look into the warm brown eyes of the elder twin.
" Sidh, peace, little brother," Elladan smiles gently, "you saved him then and we shall find and ensure his safety once more."
" Hannon le" Estels whispered thank you comes from the heart and he turns away, eyes bright with the threat of tears he does not wish to shed.
Strength is what is needed, not despair and tears will blur his observation too much now and may mean a vital clue is missed. Taking a deep breath and running a hand over his eyes to wipe them clear he begins to scan the area, hunting for the slightest trace that the blonde archer may have left in his wake. The twins fan out on either side of the human and begin a methodical search, working together as they have done for years beyond count, when tracking friend or foe, in a well practiced choreography to ensure that no point is missed, no stone unturned, in their efforts to seek out even the minutest hint that their friend, or indeed any other being, has been present in the immediate past.
Time looses all meaning as the three beings silently search the area. Estel finds his mind wandering again and again as he contemplates the fate of the young prince and stops with increasing frequency, shaking his head, in an effort to dismiss the various visions of a fair young body lying torn and broken in an assortment of places which keep trying to intrude upon his consciousness.
" Aie!", a sudden shout from Elrohir breaks into his morbid thoughts and the young man turns to seek out where his brother stands at the furthest edge of the clearing from his own position, beside the clear stream. "Estel, 'Dan," after beckoning to his brothers the younger twin squats down peering intently at the ground under one of the tall oaks standing sentinel over the point where the stream disappears into the undergrowth and rushes off, gurgling happily underground.
Estel finds his feet moving of their own accord and is soon running across to the source of the summons, his older brother converging upon the same spot with even fleeter feet, makes it there a heartbeat ahead.
" Blood" the single word escapes from unwilling lips as the three stare down upon the sight of a few deep crimson speckles which mar the bright green foliage beneath the stands to face his brothers " blood" he repeats as if unsure of what his eyes tell him.
" Aye, it is, not much, but that is blood for sure" Elladan squats to peer down upon the the offending stains, scowling as if he holds them responsible for some foul deed. "It is still fairly fresh too" he speaks slowly whilst reaching out a slender finger to brush at one of the small spatters, " I would say it was spilled no more than six hours ago." He looks up at Estel. " There is not enough, thankfully to suggest Legolas has sustained a grievous wound, if this is indeed from Legolas. Yet more proof is necessary before we can come to any conclusions as to who, where and why. Mayhap we can discover more clues if we examine this area closer."
Estels eyes have not wandered from the dark spots besmirching the greenery for the length of his brothers speech. He stands transfixed, as if trying to will the ground to give up its story to his aching heart. The twins share an empathic glance over his head.
" Come, little brother" Elladan speaks brusquely to break through the unnatural reverie "let us continue the search, there must be more yet to learn concerning what has happened here." With a deep sigh Estel wrenches his gaze from the ground and transfers his stare to his brothers face.
" I know" his voice holds an edge as he tightens his resolve, then, drawing in a long breath, he turns away and begins scanning anew, seeking any further traces, with an increased sense of urgency.
Estel stops suddenly, his heart missing a beat as if to underline what his eyes have just spotted in the long grass a few paces from the bloodstained leaves.
" It cannot be" a thin whisper of sound, barely audible to any but an elf makes his brothers look towards him, concern written on identical faces. " Nay, it cannot be".
They watch as he bends with outstretched hand to retrieve something from the ground then slowly straightens, his hand clutching a broken bow, held at arms length as if unwilling to grasp it and acknowledge its existence. This bow they would know anywhere, beautifully crafted and embossed with a pattern of intertwining leaves, they have seen it singing in all its glory on many an occasion, have watched its owner with awe as his arrows pierced any target of his chosing, never missing, faster than thought, elf and weapon in complete harmony. This bow belongs to the finest archer known in all of Arda, the one they seek so desperately, their friend. Legolas.
Struck dumb they stand together, staring at the forlorn weapon, its mighty shaft snapped almost in two, held together by the thinnest sliver of wood, the fine string dangling from one tip, never again to sound its music and join with its owner in the wonderous choreography they wove in battle. That Legolas would never freely relinquish this, his most prized, possession tells a tale in itself and the three brothers are filled with dread at the prospect this raises.