Chapter 7

-o0o-

Glorfindel had been urging Belroch to even greater speed on their way back towards Rivendell. The elven horse seemed to grasp the severity of the situation, not shying away from the brutal pace, but seemingly finding some untapped reserves instead. Belroch must have caught the scent of the orcs or known that they were getting help for its rider.

Glorfindel knew how close the bond between the twins and their horses was. It was the reason the animals had returned to Rivendell to seek aid in the first place. Glorfindel had never been more grateful for the strength and endurance of these fine animals - and of the fact that Belroch knew the way home.

Glorfindel let the stallion guide them home, his own thoughts still preoccupied with the appearance of orcs in the Hidden Valley and with the choice he had been forced to make. For all his efforts he could not banish the doubt that it had been wrong, that he had left the sons of Elrond to die a horrible death at the hand of the foul beasts. Knowing the twins and Legolas to be in danger was bad enough but imagining poor innocent Estel in the hands of those monsters sent a shiver of fear down the seneschal's back. He did not want to imagine what the creatures could do to the small child. If Estel fell into the hands of the orcs, it would destroy both Elrond and the twins - if they managed to survive that was.

Finally, Glorfindel's thoughts were disrupted by the very sight his eyes had been longing to see. Up ahead, twenty of his finest warriors were approaching him in two lines at great speed. It was the search party he had ordered before leaving Rivendell. They had obviously followed his orders and were riding to do their duty at breakneck speed, following in the wake of Elrohir's horse.

Glorfindel pulled up sharply and Belroch skidded to a halt right as his men reached him. They were clearly surprised to see him riding towards them. Glorfindel wasted no time and appraised them of the situation: "Orcs have breached the Hidden Valley. I do not know how or where exactly they come from, but I know that right this minute an unknown number of enemies is approaching our home, intent on destroying everything we hold dear. It falls on us to stop these monsters from ever reaching the Last Homely House."

His men did not disappoint him. They did not ask unnecessary questions or voice any objections. On the contrary, the determination he could see in their eyes strengthened his own resolve.

"I do not know what happened to Estel, Legolas, Elladan or Elrohir. The orcs came from their last known position. It is very likely that they are in trouble. Aside from protecting our home, we will do all we can to find and rescue them," Glorfindel added.

He turned to his second in command, who had led the search party here: "Nelledir, ride back to Rivendell as fast as you can and report to Lord Elrond. Tell him of what has happened and what we intend to do. Ask him to send out half the remaining warriors to come to our aid and to set the rest to guarding Rivendell in case the orcs break through. Ask him to prepare the Halls of Healing. Hopefully it will not come to the worst, but I want our home protected."

Nelledir nodded and immediately turned his horse around and galloped away, back the way they had come.

Glorfindel turned around as well and shouted to his warriors: "Follow me. Prepare to meet the enemy head on."

-o0o-

Elrond was sitting alone in his office in the healing wing. He had done his duty and prepared this place of restoration to the best of his abilities. Since he had no knowledge of what had befallen Legolas and his sons, he had had to prepare for every eventuality: fever, open wounds, scrapes and bruises… the list was endless. The most likely reason for his sons' delay, he thought, was that Legolas' wounds had reopened, rendering them unable to travel at speed. He would be able to deal with that, though he hoped he would not need to. If Legolas' wound had reopened it would set the prince's recovery back significantly.

But the longer he sat awaiting the return of the four the more his fears seemed to become certainties - and his worry only grew. Before the horses had returned to Rivendell, he had been able to pretend that they were merely late. That they had had so much fun they had forgotten the time - or more likely that Estel had pleaded with his brothers to let them stay longer. Hanging on to that possibility, that explanation that he wanted to believe, he had been able to work, to ignore his ever growing sense of dread. Erestor had distracted him with talks of treaties and supplies, and for a time all seemed well.

However, ever since the horses had returned he knew that something was very wrong, indeed. And as the minutes, the hours passed without word of his sons' return, his fears only turned darker. He had been unwilling to consider it before, had clung to the belief that the one injury he knew about was to blame - but he had to face the truth: Even a reopening of Legolas' wound could not explain four riderless horses. If it had only been the prince injured, one of the twins would have stayed with him while the other rode back with Estel. Something must have happened to one or more of them. He hoped with all his might that it was not Estel. While he loved all his children equally, as adan Estel was so much more vulnerable to injuries and sickness. He remembered only too well how Estel had almost died three years ago, when he ran away to find the twins, getting lost and hurt in a storm. And if anything had happened to Estel, he did not want to consider the reaction of his older sons. Their tendency to worry about each other extended double to their little brother. They would be beside themselves with worry and blame, making them more likely to do something foolish and dangerous.

'All three of them could be….', Elrond stopped his line of thought abruptly and walked out of his office. He needed to move. Sitting here, not knowing what had happened was driving him insane. Rationally, he knew he should remain where he was, but he could not stand this uncertainty, this growing doubt any longer. He made his way to the eastern courtyard and stables. Here, he would be the first to see his sons when they returned. That way he could most quickly assess their injuries as well.

He had just made it to the courtyard, when Nelledir returned. Elrond was surprised, despite coming here, he had not truly expected anyone from the search party to return so soon. And certainly not alone. The sense of dread in his heart intensified. This was not a good sign. The elf jumped off his horse's back without stopping and rushed towards him.

"My lord, an unknown number of orcs has entered the Hidden Valley. They are coming from the direction of the eastern pools. Glorfindel has taken the search party to fight them. He also intends to find your sons and Prince Legolas. He sent me back to gather more troops: half the warriors to follow them as fast as possible and the other half to protect our home."

Elrond blanched, this was even worse than he had feared. His sons were in danger of being captured by orcs, even Estel. His mind still reeling, Elrond nevertheless pushed his first reaction, that of the worried father aside, and focused instead on his other role - that of Lord of Rivendell.

His realm was being invaded. There was no time to waste.

"Nelledir, help get the horses ready. You will lead the warriors back into the fight. Cadwar will see to the defenses of Rivendell."

Elrond turned to go and do as Glorfindel had ordered: assemble the warriors and protect his home. In turn he trusted his seneschal to do as he had promised: Find Legolas and his sons.

-o0o-

Estel was lying on the cold stone shivering. He was soaked through, freezing, and exhausted. If it weren't for the tremulous sound of the waterfall and his fear of the orcs still hunting them he might well have drifted off to sleep. On any other day he would probably cry at the unfairness of it all, or at the sheer terror of the night. However, today he was heeding Legolas' words and tried to be very brave. He was determined to be as quiet as an elf and to not give away their position - again. After all, if he had kept quiet the last time they were hiding; those orcs wouldn't be on their tail now.

This time would be different. The orcs wouldn't find them in their hiding spot, they would move on and Legolas and Estel would get home and get help for the twins. That was what he was focusing on. He tried not to think about where the orcs would go or what they would do once they gave up on the two of them. He tried to ignore the knowledge that his brothers must be close and that it was likely they had already met with the orcs. He tried not to worry about them.

But it was impossible.

He knew Dan and Ro had a long history with the orcs and that they tended to get injured a lot when those creatures were involved. And today they couldn't even fight, they were unarmed and wet. What if the orcs…

He drew a breath, silently, pushing the thought away. He had to focus on the here and now, on remaining silent. The sooner he and Legolas got away from the orcs the sooner they could get help for his brothers. He would rescue them.

Strangely enough, Estel wasn't much worried for himself. As time went on and even though the orcs were hunting them, his fear of the orcs had diminished. He felt safe with Legolas nearby. He knew his friend would protect him, knew that he was doing so now. Legolas was hurt, yes, but the appearance of the orcs seemed to have given him some strength. Clearly focusing on their pursuers helped distract him from his pain. Legolas had managed to get them away from the orcs and he had found this perfect hiding spot. The orcs would never find them here, Estel was sure of it.

His friend was lying behind him at the moment, Estel's only source of warmth. He wasn't moving, but poised to spring forward and attack anyone that came too close to them. They couldn't see much, but both were listening for the orcs' splashing footsteps.

So far Estel hadn't heard anything over the sounds of the waterfall, but now he could hear them. Orcs were close. He wasn't sure how many feet were causing the sounds, but to his ears it sounded like many. And they appeared to be coming closer to their position. The orcs must be very close to the waterfall by now.

Estel held his breath and squeezed his eyes closed. 'Please move on, please move on,' he prayed.

However, it did not appear that they would be that lucky. The orcs seemed to have stopped in front of the waterfall. They must have lost their trail and were now investigating the area. He could hear some of the orcs shout. He didn't understand what they were saying, but it sounded much too close for Estel's liking. He might be wrong, but it appeared that at least some of the orcs were moving towards the waterfall.

Suddenly, Estel heard a very loud splash and orcs shouting even louder in their strange language. He tensed, but remained calm. He couldn't be sure what had happened, but he thought that some of the orcs must have jumped through the rushing waters of the waterfall and into the dark cave behind it.

Estel was suddenly very happy that he and Legolas hadn't picked that cavern as their hiding spot after all. He had been surprised that there had been a hollow space behind the waterfall - he certainly had not expected one to be there. When Legolas had led him through the water and Estel had seen the space, he had been convinced that it would be the perfect hiding place. However, Legolas had shook his head and said, almost as if to himself: "No, it is too obvious. I have a better idea."

There had been no time to ask questions, and he had stayed quiet, trusting Legolas. Estel now knew that his friend had been right. Hiding behind the waterfall would have been a disaster. He was glad that he hadn't argued with Legolas and just followed him. The elf had led him to the side of the cavern and back through the waterfall. Here, several large boulders had fallen near the river, their solid shapes interspersed with thick dark bushes. They had obviously come from the cliff. Legolas had cut a path through the bushes and after a short search had found them the perfect spot. Under one of the large boulders and hidden from view by the vegetation had been a dent just large enough for the two of them to crawl into. That's where they were waiting now.

To Estel it felt like an eternity of holding still and being quiet until he could hear the loud splash once again. That second splash indicated that the orcs had exited the caves behind the waterfall empty handed. They were shouting again and Estel thought they sounded frustrated, angry. The orcs were probably furious that their prey eluded them, but hopefully this meant that they would give up soon. As far as he knew these creatures were not known for either patience or cleverness. It was unlikely that they would come and look under the boulders, he hoped.

Without warning, Estel suddenly heard footsteps very close to their hiding spot. The orcs must have spread out after all, not willing to give up yet. They were searching for them in the area, more determined to find their prey than Estel had thought. He didn't understand it though. Why would they exert so much energy at finding the two of them, when they had the whole of Rivendell in front of them? Didn't they perhaps know that they were in the Hidden Valley? Or did they think he and Legolas would somehow warn the others? Obviously, he didn't know enough about orcs to understand their motives. If they survived this, he would ask Legolas later.

The footsteps got even closer. There were three orcs right next to the boulder, Estel could see their misshapen feet, their waists as they stepped ever closer. Although Estel kept quiet and didn't make a sound, he felt Legolas' hand slowly move to cover his mouth. Legolas didn't want a repeat of earlier. Estel could not blame his friend as he would do anything not to be discovered again. But he was determined that this time the hand over his mouth would not be needed.

The foliage kept Estel and Legolas hidden, but through the leaves he could see the orcs up close for the first time. They were covered in filthy clothes and every bit as ugly as Estel remembered them to be: Cruel features and bent bodies. However, while these creatures were awful to look at, the real danger came from the long and rusty blades with the weird spike at the top that they held in their hands. Estel did not want to make closer acquaintance with those weapons.

Finally, the orcs relented and gave up, turning back towards what Estel assumed to be the rest of their small hunting group. Estel sighted in relief but just as he was about to relax a bit, he noticed something awful. A stray beam of moonlight fell on a piece of white cloth, stuck into the back pocket of one of the beasts. With a jolt Estel recognized the bloodied remains of Elrohir's shirt.

He froze. Terror filled him. This was proof of at least one of his brother's being injured. One of his brothers had run across these vile creatures! Estel forgot all about being quiet. He struggled against Legolas' hold on him. He had to get out. He needed to find his brothers! He could not stay here any longer doing nothing.

Estel struggled but Legolas did not let him go, holding him even tighter, and preventing any large movements. His hold was restraining but also warm, understanding, comforting. But Estel did not want comfort. He wanted his brothers! The muffled sounds Estel made turned from impotent shouts to quiet sobs and were all drowned out by the lapping of the orcs' feet as the creatures waded back through the pool and finally gave up their search. And as they left so did the rush of energy and despair that had gotten so sudden a hold of him. He felt himself deflate in Legolas' tears streaking down his cheeks and over Legolas' hand.

His friend held onto him for a long time. Many minutes passed where no sounds of orc could be heard, until the elf finally relaxed his grip and removed his hand from his mouth, settling it lower, drawing Estel into an embrace.

Estel hardly cared. They were finally save, but his mind was bent on a single question. What had happened to his brothers?

-o0o-

They were too slow. Elrohir knew it was the truth, could hear the orcs coming closer, the noise they made in their search clear even over the rushing water. It was only a matter of time until the orcs would spot them – to their dark-adapted eyes Elladan and he would stand out like beacons of light.

There was no hiding and there was no escape.

And they were in no condition to fight either. Elladan still had the knife that Elrohir had wrestled from the orcs and then given him, his own cut palm too slick with blood to hold on to the unwieldy weapon, but what could that avail them? In their current state a single determined uruk might overwhelm them. It was painful to admit, painful to have to run from the accursed creatures that marred Arda with their mockery of an existence – in harmony with nothing, searching only destruction and death.

His breath burned in his lungs as his muscles seized again, once more failing to contract, to release the air he was holding for another, fresh gasp of life. It took more focus than before, more strength to force his aching muscles to cooperate, to keep breathing long enough to escape from these dark tunnels, to return home.

Home. The spots that lined his vision danced again, forming new, mocking images of their home in flames, Rivendell burning, her inhabitants screaming in the throes of a deadly blaze. He gasped at the intensity of the poison-brought hallucination, almost feeling the heat of the consuming fire licking across his own chest and back – but no, that was the fever. He was still underground and nothing burned but his own flesh.

Shaking his head to clear it of the images, he almost jumped at the sudden cold touch on his arm. Elladan. His twin was now walking beside him, clearly unwilling to let him out of his sight again lest he fall behind once more. His twin's gaze was apologetic when he said: "We have to keep moving."

Elrohir nodded, lacking the breath to speak, and forced his legs forward once again. Their only chance lay in finding another exit from this accursed path underground. A way back to the valley – and one that the orcs had never noticed.

The small, treacherous thought had been haunting him for a while now. Mocking and unbearable in its logic. If the orcs had always roamed these tunnels, barred from their entrance into Imladris only by the solid rock above their heads, they would have found other openings, some way down into the valley to attack what they detested most. And with every step he took, every ounce of strength that seemed to leak from his body, the thought came louder, its conclusion more certain.

There was no way out.

As if in answer to the thought, the river suddenly fell silent. Its voice hushed as it ran into a large basin, an underground pool, its surface a deep, serene black. And on all sides, it was ringed by solid stone. The path did not continue. They were trapped.

Behind them the rough laughter of the orcs echoed from the walls.

-o0o-

tbc...