"They lie in all the pools, pale faces, deep deep under the dark water. I saw them: grim faces and evil, and noble faces and sad. Many faces proud and fair, and weeds in their silver hair. But all foul, all rotting, all dead." ― J.R.R. Tolkien

Note: This first part of this chapter was written by my friend Lord Exar Kun who kindly agreed to type up a few of the chapters. Originally were thinking of writing a fic together but as we never got to that he offered to write a few chapters to lighten my load. Enjoy!

"What do we do wit these ones?!" A lowly Orc no better than a dirty Goblin questioned as the victors piled their defeated foes, and he pointed his unbloodied sword to the elven living. Gularzob was disgusted by the Goblins and Orcs of lesser breeds, but sucked down his pride and sneered in contempt at his lessors.

"I don't care what you do with em' there dead ones, but leave the livin' ones to me!"

"Why we keeping any livin?" Another Goblin asked its sickly greenish skin covered in slime, and muck that Gularzob found ugly even for an Orc.

"It's time we had ourselves some fun wit these ere' elves! We take em back to the fortress in the Undeeps. Let the master decide what be done wit em." the Orcs and Goblins, their heads and expressions jittery as they were toothy looked confused but seemed to accept the commands of an Orc nearly double if not triple their size.

"What the be done bout' these ere' dead ones? They're going to waste I think! What says we have ourselves a little fire, and some elf meats!" An Orc of the northern mountains spoke and caused a rabble, the Orcs and Goblins cheering and chanting; "Burn them, eat them, burn them eat them!" Gularzob looked around at the little creatures and growled.

"Mash em' eat em' burn em all in fire; I don't care what be done with them, but do it quickly you maggots! We have work needing done, and I won't be the one the master whips for failure when he hears you held us up!" The Goblins and Orcs roared in rapturous pleasure, and soon the fires lit by torches dropped were kindled and the bodies of elves were tossed among the wood, and mutilated, cut, sliced and divided as spoils among ravenous creatures born of the evils of Morgoth.

Gularzob turned and found himself facing the pack of warg riders sent along with him and this miserable walking nest of pathetic lesser Orcs. Their leader was atop a rather nasty and snarling warg with bright eyes and blackened fur.

"Mount these ere' three elves! Take em' back to the fort and to the master. What be done with them is his business, but this one gave good sport." The chieftain grabbed the cloak from the fallen blonde elf whose arrow pierced his shoulder and ripped the cloth from his limp body.

"These two ain't good for more play I think, but they live, so take em with you too maggot, and be sure to return after the delivery is made!" The Orc commanded and the Orc atop the warg snarled but he had his men load the three elves onto three wargs and strapped them in. Before soon the pack of wargs took off in a blazing hurry due west out of these woods.

Gularzob sniffed the cloak and found the clean smell repulsive to his nose and threw it among the piles of dead Orcs laying about as the Goblins and Orcs feasted on elf-flesh. The elf who had fought his sword to sword now lay a corpse beneath him. Taking sword in hand, he hacked down and removed his pretty little head, and grabbed it by his long hair, and howled in glee sending another rapturous cry from the dozens, even hundreds of Orcs and Goblins he had before him all fighting over elf meat and the spoiled meat of their fallen kin. For this night the Orcs and Goblins sung and feasted, upon the ruins of fallen elves.

It would be four days before elves sent from the Woodland Realm would come across the battleground and find decaying corpses, rotted flesh, and burnt skin and mutilated elves, but most importantly; among hacked off limbs and fleshless heads and skeletons, the cloak of their prince was found and word was sent back to the king Thranduil.

Prince Legolas had fallen.

It was nearing evening. They stopped by the Anduin. It was in Drimrill Dale that they took a brief respite allowing their horses to drink from the waters having ridden a near three days without stop. They would have kept riding if not for the sole fact that even elves tire. And after so long on horseback with no rest it was hard not to cave in lest they fall of their horse where they rode. They carried Elladan's body to the river which mercifully had plenty of trees and underbrush for them to lay him under. They attempted to lower the fever with atelas and willow bark but the fever was still too high to be called safe.

"The fever has intensified." Arrai frowned as he felt Elladan's forehead. Elrohir cursed under his breath.

"Here." He passed a bowl of water to Arrai who placed a compress on Elladan's forehead. "It will take us five days at best to reach Rivendell."

Elladan moaned weakly as his compress was changed. Elrohir gnashed his teeth. "If only I had listened to him. Allowed him teach me more than he had."

A hand rested on his shoulder. "Perhaps, but not all are meant for war and not all for healing. Lord Glorfindel took centuries just to reach your Adar and even he would not be able to concoct a cure for this malady."

Elrohir looked at his ailing brother eyes glazed in agony. "I know. I know. I just wish…." But now was not the time for weakness. With purpose his eyes met Arrai's. "We will ride like the wind come morning. He will make it."

Elrohir offered to take up the first watch. He was older and truth be told the younger elf looked utterly spent from the harrowing journey and Elrohir couldn't blame him. At his age he had been running around his father's house rampant playing pranks on his sister the guards and any unfortunate being guesting at his father's house. It would be redundant to say that these pranks were more elaborate than those of his younger years such as attempting to set his sister up with an elf that was mooning for her. And though that backfired terribly he had wicked fun all the while with his twin as they watched the scene unfold. Elladan, he clenched a fist. Those had been the good old days, days before the darkness before his mother…

He focused on his brother over his darkening thoughts as he and Arrai settled Elladan comfortably among the soft ferns. He sat next to his brother body weary but mind refusing to rest. He sighed leaning his head against a tree allowing his body to rest for the better part of the hour. They had stayed close to the Anduin and in reward received both shelter from the trees and fresh water from the branched off streams of the great river. It was a cool night with a full moon. He was thankful for small mercies. He hated the darkness. Hated all it stood for.

His keen ears caught the sound of crickets in the glade. He listened to them for a while until his ears caught heavy breathing. Breathing indicating nightmare, checking on his brother he found that his fever had been lowered to an acceptable and also that he was not the one suffering. He made his way to the younger elf resting across from his brother heart trembling in fear for his friend.

Arrai's face was ashen, his breathing erratic as another soft moan escaped his lips. "Hey." He shook the younger elf and the moans turned to yells. "Valar! Arrai saes! It' s me! Hands of iron gripped his own trying to pin him down. Taken aback by the attack he tackled the elf whose unfocused eyes saw everything but him. "Arrai" With shaking hands Elrohir shook the younger elf once more. "Hey, hey it's okay it's just a dream saes."

"Ada?" The elf started awake whimpering and shuddering covered in fevered sweat.

"It's Elrohir, Arrai let go your safe. It was just a dream." Elrohir was about to say more but the younger elves eyes focused. Keen and fully awake eyes met his. "Elrohir?" He was pushed off Arrai's face impassive locking down any trace of feeling he might have had from the dream though his eyes and trembling body said otherwise. The waked elf started as if he was about to speak but then quickly brought a hand to his mouth and wretched piteously over his shoulder emptying what little fruit he had eaten that day.

"Thank Valar Arrai…" Dark eyes met his own. "I…what…saes… Arrai…are, are you alright?"

"Fine." The younger elf batted his question away and shuddered as he took the flask of water from Elrohir's hands attempting to open it but his hands were too shaky for even that.

"Here let me help." His offer was rebuffed as the flask was tossed into his hands. "I'm not thirsty." Cold eyes met his own.

"Arrai!" Pleading eyes met inscrutable yes. "You're not fine so stuff it! Here."

With a sigh Arrai accepted the water and drank greedily from its contents then passed it to Elrohir whose face revealed his sorrow on his friend's behalf.

"How is Elladan?" Arrai attempted to dodge the subject of himself.

"The same." If Arrai had thought dodging the question in such a manner would work well it didn't. He worried for Elladan's condition that he did, but at this moment he was tearing up inside for the younger elf. When they found there mother what had been there… No! he couldn't think that way his friend was never… No! He broke his thoughts as a tear snaked down his face concealed in the darkness of the night. "Tell me Arrai. I must…have to know what I put you through."

His eyes were avoided. "I 'm going to the river we need a refill anyway, then it's my watch. "Arrai!" But his friend looked not at him but through him a haunted gaze glazing his eyes. His mother, his brother and now his friend… Ai Adar! Why was he so bad at keeping those he cared for safe?

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