Story Downloaded from Open Scrolls Archive (https://www.openscrolls.net)

Title: Darkness Of The Mind (#1736)
Author: karushna5
Chapters: 5

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Archive: Tolkien
Category: Alternate Universe (AU)
Description: A great tragedy has struck, Aragorn is injured and lies at death’s door. Someone is hunting elves and only the Prince knows who it is. Now if only he can remeber what he has forgotten.
Published: 29 Mar 2005
Updated: 20 Jul 2005
Warnings: Blood & Gore in later chapters [rating may change]
Type: Mystery
Characters: Legolas; Thranduil; Elrond; Elladan; Elrohir; Arag


Chapter 1 - Light Before Dark

Darkness Of The Mind
By: karushna5

Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one. [Drat] Only the plot and story line and even that I technically don’t own. They belong to my muse. Dude it’s not fair.

Summary: Death is ever present. Day and night he stalks the shadows. His prey are many, mortal and immortal. He knows everything and everyone. Only those who see his eyes and survive remain alive, but they shall forever be enslaved by the Darkness of the Mind. (NON-Slash)

A/N: Yay, the story's finally ready to be posted (most of it anyway) The rating for now is PG-13, but that might later change because of the gore details in later chapters might be too much for some. At least they looked that way in my head, however if it turns out not to be that bad the rating may stay. Then again I may change to cover my own tail. I'll think on it before any final decisions are made.

P.S. Sorry for grammer, spelling, ect... mistakes my beta seems to have droped off the face of the planet. So please pardon the problems, if you see any major mistake inform me and I'll fix 'em. Thanks much.

Anyway enough of my rambelings...

On With The Fic!

Chapter 1: Light before Dark

It was dark, very dark, not even the shadows can be seen in the cell where I sleep. I hear voices in the not too far distance along with the sharp clanging sounds of metal clashing with metal.

‘What is going on?’ I ask myself, ‘Why can I not see that which surrounds me?’

A cry is herd. Someone is hurt, but who? Is it my captor or my savior? I can’t tell.

It all started with what feels like years to me, but maybe a few days or only hours, I do not know how much time has past. There is nothing in this bleak darkness to give me a way to tell time. No matter for I can still tell you what happened, answers for time can come later. I was traveling through the woods of my home, I can still hear the thundering of my horse’s hooves as they connected with the dry, hard ground; the Peredhil family from Rivendell were visiting and I wanted to be there when they arrived.

I remember hearing the sounds of other horses approaching, they are coming closer. I look over to my left and see a mane of unruly dark hair riding beside me. I smile as I recognize the face of my human friend Aragorn or Estel to the elves riding up behind him. I recognize them to be Lord Elrond’s twin sons, my seniors by only two hundred years, my long time friends Elladan and Elrohir.

Forgive me, I forget the rest of the detail here, but we raced all the way home each horse neck and neck. When we reached the enchanted gates of my home I was tempted to pull ahead and run through the large doors saying the magic words as I pass through, resulting in the thick double doors slamming shut on their noses. But I’m not that cruel, besides my father would have my hide for shutting the doors on our guests.

I did, however, pull ahead anyway winning the race. We argued over who won, and the rules of cheating and fair play while we wait for Elrond and the rest of Elrond’s guard to arrive. No one went anywhere alone anymore because of the darkness that was growing day by day. It was, and still is, unwise to travel without some form of a guard. Of course that never stopped me and my friends. We constantly went off on our own. Exploring new lands, trying new things, or simply enjoying each others company.

Another scream is heard in the darkness. Those were constant here. I have heard them every waking moment, but never found out who or where they came from, but this one is different from the others. A second voice joins it; both are calling out my name. I try to answer, maybe I do, I’m not sure. Soon one voice disappears leaving the other to look for me.

I sigh and return to my story of how I got here, help is on its way I know it. There isn’t much left of the tale, but I shall finish. The next day we went out for hunt, and it rained. My memories are fuzzy as to what happened next, all I know is that I woke up in this pit of darkness with a man, I think, hovering over me. He whispers some ancient words of a forgotten tongue and that was it. He never harmed me; at least I don’t think he did. Why can I not remember anything?

I hear the creaking of rusted metal as a door opens up in front of me. ’I didn’t know a door was in here.’ I think stupidly as a bright light enters, blinding me. Who knew the sunlight could hurt so much. I must have been down here a long time for the sun to hurt me so.

A shadow steps through shielding my eyes from the harsh light. The figure releases my hands that were shackled to the wall and helps me to my feet. My arms fall slack to my side. ‘Why had I not noticed they were up against a wall?’ I ask myself. My hands and lower arms tingle as the blood flow return to them. I move to rub them but only my fingers twitch. I guess that was all the strength I possessed at that moment. The figure steps back and the sunlight blinds me again. Taking notice on how the sun hurts my eyes the shadow covers them with his free hand and helps me outside. I feel the warm sunlight touch my cool skin, it feels nice. Fresh air enters my lungs as I inhale they felt relieved to be rid of the stale, thick air that surrounded me while I was incarcerated. The figure removes his hand from my eyes, he moves slowly so as not to hurt them again.

At first everything is blurred but soon I see a face it’s one I recognize instantly. He had dark hair and bright eyes. His face slowly aged by time and yet never betraying his true age. His bright silvery eyes shown in happiness and relief that I am there. Why is he happy? Nothing had happened to me; at least I don’t think so. He says something, but I don’t hear it, though his lips I easily read. He is asking me if I’m alright and if the other men had hurt me any?

I try to answer, but I can’t find my voice. I must have said something because the man laughs. However his smile quickly fades to a frown as a startled, confused, and scared look (I rarely, if ever see) replaces it.

‘What is wrong?’ My mind asks seeing the almost instant change. What has happened now? Strider what is wrong? I try to say, but my mouth no longer cooperates.

He slowly backs away and tries talking to me again. His lips are moving too fast for me to read, but judging by the look of panic and fear I know it is not good.

My vision fades to darkness again as I hear a scream.

“LEGOLAS!”


A/N: Well what do you think? Review and tell me remember:

No reviews = no chapter
Some reviews= 1-2 week update wait
Many reviews= 3 day update
Wow! So many my computer's starting to overload = Give me a few min./hours


Chapter 2 - Lost and Found

A/N: Nothing to say. I was going to put something, but then my mind died when I looked at my Calculus pre-exam. (Looks again) {Screams…}

Audience watch as authoress faints.
Elladan & Legolas clones shrug and drag unconscious authoress off stage.
Elrohir clone posts sign on curtain

Sign reads: Please Read and Review while I recover.
Remember: 'thought'
"speach"
Review Replies:

sivan: Thanks for the review, here's your update. Hope you like this one too. :):):)

Chapter 2: Lost and Found

Elladan rode atop his brown steed trailing one other horse behind him. He was on his way back to the mountain side cell they had found their age old friend in. They had been looking for him for days, only learning his whereabouts by chance. It had only been three days ago they were all laughing and having a grand time when a storm from out of nowhere caught them. Elladan clearly remembered how the rain came down in large, thick, almost painful drops. They had sought shelter from the downpour in a nearby cave. Since elves have a dislike for the dark unknown in the depths of rock they stayed near the entrance and watched in silence as the rain gave new life to what was once a parched wood.

Legolas was no exception to the elven fear of closed in spaces, if anything he feared them even more than any other, but he knew something about these caves that the others did not. Elladan let out a light laugh he should have known something was amiss when Legolas stood out in the rain refusing to enter. Legolas had all but dragged them back out into the storm. He almost had to carry Aragorn out, but that had not been necessary once he informed them that the cave they were using had once been home to one of Mirkwood’s largest, man-eating spiders. It was possible that another of that spider’s brood had taken up residence. Not being one to argue with that sort of logic the three brothers had, literally, run from the cave and gone in search for another shelter.

A few hours of trudging through the rain and mud with rolls of thunder overhead, the storm finally moved on to the next place to release it water filled sacs. As their luck would have it they had found shelter when it stopped. It wasn’t until that moment that they realized they had left one of their packs at the last cave they were at. Legolas had taken it upon himself to go back and get it.

‘That had been the last we heard of him.’ thought Elladan.

“LEGOLAS!”

The yell brought him from his reflections. It was loud, tormented, and the edging of fear mixed with sadness and anguish surrounded the spoken name. He knew that yell, having heard many times before; it was his foster brother Estel. Many questions flew through the older twins mind as he tried to think what had happened. But one thought came that disturbed him greatly: Legolas had perished.

“Oh no.” he whispered to no one as he kicked his horse into a faster pace.

When he reached his destination Elladan slowed his horse at the sight that lay before him. At the base of the mountain where the low grass meets the woods three figures laid facedown in the dirt. They were unmoving and the bitter metallic scent of blood traveled to the elf’s sensitive nose. He didn’t need to see them to know that one or more had lost a large amount of blood. Panic seized in his chest. One of them he knew was the one who had kidnapped Legolas, they had killed him not long ago, before Elladan retreated to get the horses and inform Elrohir of their find. But the other two he feared he knew very well.

He jumped off the horse and told them to stay where the woods stopped. He recognized the other two bodies and fear came anew at the sight of them. Legolas was facedown, the side of his face sitting in a mix of blood made mud. The elf prince appeared as if he had only passed out, but he couldn’t be sure. His eyes were closed after all, and that only happened to elves under three conditions: when they were overly exhausted, poisoned, or worse…dead.

Elladan went to Legolas’s side first, thinking that he must be dead for Aragorn to have yelled like that. Tears filled the Noldor Elf’s eyes before slowly flowing down his cheeks as he rolled him onto his back and looked over his fair friends face. Legolas was pale, even for an elf. The natural elven glow was all but gone from the listless form, blood, fresh and dried, stained his tunic and leggings, which were torn around the edges. A hole was ripped at the princes knees showing the scrapes he had received. They were dirty and what looked to be the start of infection. Legolas’s blonde hair had lost some of its natural sheen, and was dirty with blood, dust, mud, and dirt. His wrists were bruised and cut where what looked like shackles had been placed. Over his left eye sat two shallow healing cuts one larger sitting above another shorter. As he gazed at the light marks he could have sworn the blood beneath it burned bright red, he quickly brushed it off as a trick of the light.

Elladan raised a fearful hand to the prince’s chest hoping to feel the heart beat in his breast. To his surprise it was there and strong, as if nothing was wrong. [A/N: Hey look it rhymes!]

Elladan exhaled in relief, Legolas was fine. ‘He must have just passed out.’ thought Elladan, ‘but then why would Estel shout his name like that? Estel!’

Elladan turned to the second form. All the blood seemed to come from this one body. The dark rangers coat stood out strongly from the now red grass, but revealed nothing. Elladan cursed the Dunedain for wearing dark colors that could easily hide any number of wounds. Pushing these thoughts aside he crawled to his youngest brother’s side and slowly turned him over. Aragorn let out a light pain filled moan at the movement. Elladan felt relieved at least he wasn’t so bad that he could not make a sound. Better a pain filled moan then silence.

Finally getting a clear view of the wound Elladan gasped at what he saw. A long jagged knife wound traveled from the man’s collar bone to his stomach. Blood began to pool in the deep gash, but he could clearly see the white bone that lay beneath. A dark crimson stain rapidly spread across Aragorn’s shirt as the cloth absorbed the blood.

“Oh Estel, what have you gotten into now?”

Looking around and thinking quickly Elladan went back to his horse and dug through a large brown pack that hung from one of the horses sides. It was big and bulky mostly due to the large amount of healing supplies tucked snuggly away inside. Aragorn had, on Elrond’s orders, put the pack together, just in case they would need it when they found Legolas or if they had run into anything. Elladan shifted things around the bag was filled with so many different bottles and containers he wondered how Aragorn could ever find anything at all in his pack. His hand reached the bottom when he felt the something soft and squishy, he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, he had found the bandages. He was thrilled that for once his brother had enough since to bring three times as much cloth then normal. For once he wouldn’t need to rip his shirt to pieces to use as bandaging. After taking a few steps and second thoughts he went back and grabbed the whole pack then rushed to his brother’s side to begin work on the grievous wound.

Elladan felt worry seep in as he bandaged his brother. At first Estel had moaned a lot, but those were becoming weaker as time went by. When he had to apply pressure to slow down the bleeding some he moved against the new pain Elladan was causing. Not long after the man had gone limp entirely, and for one heart stopping moment Elladan feared he had killed his baby brother. That the pain he had been causing was the final straw to all the torment the man had already gone through to gain the injury he was now mending.

‘No! Not now! He can’t die now!’ Elladan thought as he frantically searched for the human’s life sign.

~Elsewhere~

Elrohir dashed through the woods in the up most of haste the thundering of his horse’s hooves matching the rapid beat of his heart. He had to get home and quick, they had found Legolas, at long last. He didn’t know if he should be happy they had found their friend or worry for the state he would surely be in.

He was concentrating so hard on getting home he almost missed the rapid movement in the trees and nearly trampled the other Elves that dropped down form the trees.

“Halt!” said one who Elrohir assumed was the leader.

“Please, I’m in a hurry. I must get to the palace I have a message for King Thranduil concerning his son.”

“Lord Elrohir?” asked one elf.

Elrohir recognized him instantly. His name was Curudae, an Elf who was exceptionally gifted with the skill of silence, more than what was gifted to most elves. He could hide in plain sight and even in a hurried run could easily hide his tracks without second thought, and moved between the shadows with the greatest of ease.

He had been around for as long as Elrohir could remember. A proud Elf by nature, but one who happily give it all up for those he cared for. He was a lot like Glorfindel in many ways. An original resident of Rivendell he had light brown hair and soft brown and green colored eyes. He was tall and handsome, like all of his kin, but not today it seemed. He was covered from head to toe in mud and dirt, hardly any skin could be seen through all the grime, and he was not alone. The others in his troop also looked as he did. These past few days had been hard on them all and Elrohir was sure he didn’t look much better.

The head of the troop instantly stepped aside to let the young elf lord pass. “My apologies Lord Elrohir, We did not recognize you.”

“LEGOLAS!” came the tormented yell.

Elrohir’s eyes grew in size as the color drained from his face. His mind raced to understand what may have happened when he left. A thought crossed his mind, did Mot not die? Or had something happened to Legolas? What about Estel? His little brother and his best friend were in danger, in trouble of some sort and here he was conversing with a few guards. What was he thinking? How could he have left them to that fate?

What about Elladan? That scream was loud enough he would have easily heard it. Was he entangled in the mess as well? Would his name be called next?

Elrohir felt his heart clinch in his chest and his breathing stop. Turning his horse around he prepared to race off and join in the fight for his friend and families lives. He didn’t see the hand that grabbed the rope that served for the horse’s reigns.

“Lord Elrohir stop!” said a voice in commanding tone.

“No! Their in trouble I have to help them.”

“Elrohir, listen to me!” The tone held sharp enough to cut through the Elf’s train of thought, “Elrohir, I have known you since you were a mere babe. I helped teach you to hunt wild bore and deer. I have protected you and your reckless brothers since you first got lost here.”

“B-But…” Elrohir stammered.

“I know you want to race to their aid I do also. After all the Prince is my friend as well is he not? You are the only one who holds information on the young prince and his father has been awaiting news for three days. Will you deny him that news?”

Elrohir shook his head no.

“Then ride back to Mirkwood.” Said Curudae gently turning the horse around in the direction of the palace. “We will tend to them. Have no fear.”

Elrohir nodded reluctantly and left his horse almost flying down the path. ’I hate to leave them, I really do, but I have to deliver my message. Thranduil and Ada will be relieved.’ he thought. Gritting his teeth in anger at the one who would dare to harm his family and friends as his thoughts continued. ’But as soon as that message is given I will return and kill anyone who dares to hurt them.’

A/N: Sorry for any out of characters there may be. I try to keep them as they should but sometimes they just refuse to stay as they’re suppose to. Oh yeah, did I mention this was AU? Well it is so … yeah.

P.S. beta still missing in action. Please pardon problems. Anything found and brought to my attention will be fixed. Promise.

Review Me. (Sad cute puppy eyes) Pwease, (sniffle sniffle) They make me happy and keep my starving muse fed.

Feed The Elven Muse! Review.


Chapter 3 - Father's Troubled Heart

A/N: Beta still hasn’t been located; beta finding hounds have gone missing as well. I think she left me, anyone see her send her home. (Boy that sounds kinda pathetic) Anyone want to act in her place till I find her please email me, my address is listed on my URL.Thanks for the help and understanding. Remember point out any mistakes and they will be fixed.

Chapter 3: Father’s Troubled Heart

Walk, walk, walk, turn. Walk, walk, stop. Stare out window, nothing there. Walk, walk, turn. Sit on bed and think for half a second. Stand. Walk, walk, walk, turn, walk, walk, walk, turn. (A/N: Boy I’m dizzy)

The sounds of pacing and a worried father could be heard in the hallway. Elrond was sure of it, his footsteps were sounding loud even in his ears, but what more could he do? All three of his sons were out in the dark, evil, woods of Mirkwood, and knowing how trouble prone his children and Legolas were they were bound to have problems. ‘What if something happened?’ asked a distant voice in the back of his mind. ‘Any number of things could go wrong. They tend to turn reckless when the lives of their friends come into play in these dangerous games of life and death.’

‘Silence!’ Elrond mentally hissed. He would not think that way; he had to believe they were fine.

Elrond paced the floor of his room in the palace. Three days had passed and still no word from any of the elf lords children. Upon hearing of his son’s kidnapping Thranduil had sent out patrols to search for the missing prince and his captor, but so far nothing had been found. Elrohir had been the one to deliver the disturbing message only to leave shortly after giving it. He had gone back out into the wilds to aid in the search with his brothers.

Thranduil had begun to fall into depression as there was no news of any findings not even so much as a ransom note had been found, a common find when there was a kidnapping.

Looking out the window he was standing near he watched the gates open up and a rider race through the enchanted doors. He immediately recognized it to be Elrohir. Elrond left at a dead run seeking out Thranduil.

Thranduil was sitting in his private study staring blankly out the small window. He was thinking about many things all of which had one thing in common, his missing son. All the same thoughts repeated constantly in his head.

Who had done this? Why Legolas? What did they want? Were they working for Sauron or on their own? What could he do that he hasn’t done three times before? What vital clues was he missing? Was Legolas alright or being tortured endlessly? How long before they found him? Was his beloved son even alive? The questions were almost unending and when they did they circled again. The Elven king had eaten little food and taken even less sleep. Every time he closed his eyes he saw the most horrific scenes: Bloody corpses, deadly tortures, poisons. Once he had even dreamed Legolas had escaped only to die in his arms at his doorstep the murderer never known and never caught.

That particular dream shook him to the core so much that he had sought out Elrond in the dead of night to decipher its meaning.

FLASHBACK

King Thranduil hurried through the halls of his home his slipper covered feet making scarcely a sound on the stone floor. He was heading towards Lord Elrond’s room, hoping that the Elf was still awake. He thought back to what had woken him at such a late hour of the night. Try as he might he could not erase the visions the horrid nightmare had brought to him.

In his dream he saw Legolas. He was running from something, though he could not see what it was that frightened his son. Legolas was trying to say something to him, but he could not hear. When suddenly, Legolas lurched forward, stumbling over his own two feet and falling face first into the ground. A white arrow sticking out the middle of his back like a flag.

…Dream…

‘Legolas tried to stand and painfully forced himself to his feet. Thranduil could clearly see the pain and fear written in his eyes, he wanted nothing more than to take that away. Thranduil wanted to run to him, but found he couldn’t, he could only watch as two more arrows pierced his sons back.

“No.” he whispered in disbelief.

Again Legolas fell and again he stood, but his movements were slower with each time. He was loosing, dieing and all Thranduil could do was watch. Again he tried to race to his side, but no matter how hard he tried he could not reach his son’s side. He could only stand by helplessly as Legolas tried to run from his unknown assailant. A shadow moved nearby taking on a human form, but had no face. Only two bright red slits formed near the top of his head that could only be described as eyes. A spiked club appeared in his hand. The weapon looked as if it had seen better days. Rusted spikes that were hook shaped at the ends protruded from random spots near the top of the old splintering wood.

“No don’t.” said Thranduil, realizing what was about to happen.

Thranduil watched in horror as the shadow raised the club above Legolas’s unprotected back. The club came down and connected with flesh with a sickening thud and crunch of the inch thick spikes breaking bone. Legolas cried in pain. The only sound Thranduil had heard through out the dream. The mighty Elf King pulled at the invisible restraints, but no amount of struggling could release him.

“Please stop.” he begged, seeing the pain in Legolas’s eyes.

Again the club came down, this time it struck Legolas’s side. Blood began to fill his mouth and dribble down the young prince’s chin.

“Stop!” yelled Thranduil and the invisible bonds were broken.

In a blind fury engulfed the Elven King as he raced to attack the shadow that dared harm him son. He wanted nothing more than to beat the creature within an inch of his life. He wanted to torture him to no end, wanted him to feel the pain his son suffered, and die a slow and painful death. Unfortunately he would never get that chance. The shadowed man disappeared the second Thranduil took his first swing at him.

All the anger and hatred disappeared only to be replaced with worry, panic, and sadness at the sight of his boy. Legolas was lying helpless on the ground, his blood quickly turning the ground red. The blood was so much it nearly made him sick, looking at it he couldn’t help but think how much a body could stand to loose.

Kneeling down he felt the blood soak through his leggings, staining them a darker shade of green. Gently he rolled his son over till his head rested on his lap. At the sight Thranduil could have cried. His face was whiter than the winter snow causing the bright blood rolling and bubbling out of his mouth to stand out greatly in contrast.’

…End Dream…

That was when he woke up, unable to stand watching it any longer. He was grateful to find out it was a dream, but still sometimes dreams held a merit of truth in them somewhere, and though he had no powers of foresight like in the other Elven kingdoms it still made him worry even more.

Next thing he knew he was in front of the room Lord Elrond was staying in. Looking down he saw light coming from under the door.

Taking a deep breath he hoped his guest wasn’t asleep as he knocked on the wood door.

“Elrond are you awake I need to speak with you. It‘s important.”

By now Thranduil was beginning to think that he was being simply paranoid and in all honestly was feeling a little foolish for asking Elrond about a dream, but he quickly reminded himself it was for his son that he was there in the first place. The sound of rustling could be heard on the other side of the door.

“Yes, Thranduil what is the problem?” asked a somewhat sleepy Elrond, but Thranduil knew it wasn’t because he had disturbed his rest, but rather the lack there of.

“Elrond have you had any visions as of late?”

Elrond sadly sighed, “No Thranduil, I’m afraid I have not, though I would give anything to know even the slightest of detail.” Elrond stepped aside motioning his friend to come in “Why do you ask?” Elrond closed the door behind him.

Thranduil took a deep breath before starting “My friend I had the most terrifying nightmare I have ever had in my entire life.”

Elrond sat on the bed his worry increasing as Thranduil told his tale. By the end the Mighty King was at his wits end and trying desperately to hold back his emotion and maintain a since of calm. He did not want to appear weak in front of anyone no matter who they may be.

“What does it mean?” he asked the wise Elf Lord.

“It could mean many things or nothing.” said Elrond it sounded harsh even to his ears. In all honesty he didn’t want to say the obvious meaning behind the dream, but then again could he really give false hope to a desperate father. To do so can sometimes backfire and make things worse than they would have been if he had said nothing. Elrond had learned that hard lesson a long time ago, when he was faced with a very simaler situation.

“Are you sure you haven’t been having visions, you always do.”

“As I said before I have seen nothing on the fate of your sons or the fate my own.”

“Can’t you summon something?”

“Visions can’t be called upon they come when they come and aren’t completely reliable. They only show what could be.”

By now Thranduil‘s emotions could no longer be held back. “Can’t you do anything!” he yelled angrily

“Don’t you think I’ve tried!” Elrond yelled back his own worry coming forward as anger. “Thranduil I care for Legolas as if he were my own and I hate feeling this helpless.” Elrond calmed down as his voice softened, “My own sons are out there too. When Elrohir left three days ago that was the only news I had that they were fine, but that feels so long ago.” Elrond’s eyes wondered to the window as they gazed up at the starry night sky.

“I am sorry.”

Elrond looked back at Thranduil who had found a spot on the floor the object of his attention. “I am sorry to have disturbed you. I did not mean to become angry it’s just…”

“Thranduil, mellon-nin,” Elrond interrupted, “I understand.”

Thranduil turned to leave as he walked to the door he heard Elrond speak.

“Thranduil, if I had had a vision and knowing what they normally mean would you still want to know?”

Thranduil stood there staring at the closed door his hand hovering just above the knob. Did he want to know? He asked himself. The dream flashed briefly across his vision.

“No, I probably don’t.” he said, then left.

…Back to Present… (A/N: man that took longer than I originally thought.)

Elrond didn’t think he could run so fast, if it weren’t for the desperate news Elrohir held he would have never even given thought to it. A sharp turn around a corner and a near collision with one of the house servants he spotted Thranduil’s private study at the end of the hall. Never had the short hallway seemed like miles, possibly even leagues, away from where he stood, but at last he reached his destination. At last he was in front of the door to the study. As he reached to turn the handle the door swung open and caught him off guard. Now, Elrond had learned thousands of years ago how to fight; war and survival made it essential to learn in order to live. Even though he now lived behind a desk with mounds of paper work that came with the job of being leader of Rivendell he still kept up with his old skills by sparring occasionaly with Glorfindel or one of his sons. Fortunately all that skill was still useful. Automatically he jumped back to avoid being hit by the thick door.

Thranduil emerged from the room having seen Elrohir riding through the front gates not only a moment before.

“Did you see him?” asked the Elven King almost happily as he left Lord Elrond in his tracks

As Thranduil hurried for the court yard a mix of emotions flooded his heart sadness, fear, worry, and a great curiosity of Elrohir’s news. What if it was bad news? What if it was good? What if he came back to tell them the search was hopeless? It was as if he was divided in two, half of him said the news was good in that they had found Legolas, the other was saying they may have found the young prince, but in what condition? Was the main question. The poor Elf was almost afraid to ask what had become of his son. Almost.

Elrond hurried to catch up to Thranduil as they both dashed through the halls. They were both desperate to know and the other Mirkwood Elves knew of their plight and made room for the fathers as they ran madly through. Had it been any other day the sight would have been comical. After all how often did one see their king and a neighboring lord dashing through the halls, ducking servants and guards that were in the way, vaulting over banisters, and nearly tripping down the stairs?

At last they reached the open court yard awaiting Elrohir’s arrival. Now they waited and while they waited anxiety and a desperate need for knowledge for better or for worse began to grow.

Elrohir called his horse to a halt and slid off the animal’s sleek back.

Thranduil’s blood pulsed in his ears and for a moment that was all he could hear as he silently watch Elrohir walk up to him. The Elf’s features did not go unnoticed. His eyes were downcast and misty in what could have been tears, his hands were balled into tight fists, his back was straight, but with a slight slump as if in controlled sorrow. Young Elrohir seemed tense and upset about something and all were desperate to know what. However, when he at last noticed where he was his lips turned up into a smile that turned King Thranduil’s thoughts to happier, more hopeful thoughts.

“We found him.” was all the second born son of Elrond needed to say for all tension to be released and allowed the mighty king of Mirkwood to breathe fresh air as hope swelled within.

That night all would sleep a little better knowing their prince was on his way home, and these three words would be the highlight of the elven city. However, later they may all wish they had never found him.

A/N: Wow a long one I normally keep these about 3-4 pages on Microsoft Word, but I just couldn‘t stop once I got going on this one. I try to have these updates about one week apart, but school’s almost out and we all know what that means.

(Scary music) EXAMS! (Scream)

So yeah, since it’s in my best interest that I pass with at least a B average I might not be able to update regularly until the end of the month. I will still be updating every once in a while just don’t count on one popping up every week. Sorry, but school has to come before writing. At least that’s what my mom says.

I also have my grandmother visiting for the next 2 wk. So don’t expect too much from me. I’ll try to update as soon as I can.

Till Next We Meet.

Review Me


Chapter 4 - Who Done It?

Chapter 4: Who Done It?

“We found him.” was all the second born son of Elrond needed to say for all tension to be released and allowed the mighty king of Mirkwood to breathe fresh air as hope swelled within.

The next day Lord Elrond woke with an uneasy feeling slowly growing within him as he watched the path beyond the gates for a sign of his sons and Legolas. He had been sitting up for the forth night in a row alternating between watching out the window for the others and looking over a very exhausted Elrohir. Sometime between the very late hours of the night and the now rising dawn he had nodded off.

He looked over at his second born, sleeping nearby. Elrond brushed his fingers through the tangled locks of his son’s hair. He smiled fondly at the sleeping form that would occasionally twitch in his sleep. Elrond remembered how Elrohir had come home to deliver his message, only to turn around, heading back out into the wilderness, but Elrond would not allow it. He had a hard time convincing the youngest twin to stay behind with him and wait for his brothers and friend’s return.

It was early morning, just a few hours after the sun rose, when he finally saw Elladan riding back. With Estel riding in front, looking unconscious from what he could see and Legolas in front of one of the guards, there was little time for emotion as he ran out to great his son.

Elrohir woke at the sudden feeling of being alone and cleared his eyes in time to see his father leave the room.

Elrond took Estel from Elladan’s grasp his father’s heart weeping over the unresponsive form of a once headstrong and happy boy. But he himself did not have time to cry instead the healer in him took charge.

Without a word to those around him he quickly turned and headed towards the healing word. The others would follow, they always do, a part of him welcomed the comfort of those who shared his pain and the help they will readily give, but the other part wished to keep them away. He didn’t want them to witness the injuries to their brother or hear the pain filled cries if Estel woke at the wrong moment, but most of all he did not want them to see him fall. To see him fail in saving their little Estel; to bare witness to the humans untimely demise. As he ran he could feel his adopted son’s life drain away with every step he took. He could feel his son’s very life slip through his fingers like water down a river. Estel wouldn’t last much longer without help. Elrond could finally see the healing room doors ahead and never had the sight made him so happy. He only wished to make it there before the others so he could lock them out; there were plenty of other healers on standby waiting for him to arrive. But then again if he locked them out at such a critical point they may very well breakdown the door. In the end he could keep none of them out, but then again he didn’t really try.

Thranduil sat in his study his thoughts lost in the troubling information he had just received from one of his best patrol group. Curudae had delivered the message himself in the early hours of morning, not long before dawn. He had said that in rushing to Elladan’s aid they had found countless spider nests not too far ahead on Elladan and Legolas route home. Not that that was out of the ordinary, after all Mirkwood is full of spiders and nests are a common find, especially along the well used paths.

However when they went to destroy the nest so the boys would have no other foe’s to defeat and hinder their time, and possibly themselves, they discovered the recently charred bodies of what was left. Curudae had said there were no reports about spiders being there, this being normally his path to check for the eight legged killers, he would know about any nests and if they were destroyed or not. Not that they weren’t grateful for what had happened it was just the manner it had been done that bothered the Elven king. The spiders were reported burned to a crisp, and others cut open, but there wasn’t a sign on the landscaping that suggested something had happened. No scuff marks in the dirt, suggesting a fight taking place, no footprints in the mud that told of anyone passing through, the grass wasn’t even burned from where the spiders had been fried. Not even blood was left behind from the ones that had been destroyed and cut open. It was almost like someone had put the bodies there for them to find. Perhaps in a warning of some sort, or maybe to let them know they had help hidden in the shadows.

Thranduil shook his head to clear his mind. He had other things to think about: Legolas’s health for one thing. Elladan had come not long after Curudae, and unfortunately he was distracted when Legolas was taken away to the healing halls. Now he would have to wait for Elrond to give his diagnosis on the health of both Estel and Legolas. Needless to say the Mighty Elven King Thranduil was anxious to hear of his son’s health.

A knock sounded at his door.

“Enter.” said Thranduil

Elrond opened the wood door and walked inside, his expression unreadable.

-------Elsewhere--------

Curudae walked through the halls at a quick pace his mind still working to figure out what had happened to the spiders. Soon he deemed the situation for now unsolvable, later he would work it out when things calmed down a bit.

Elrohir after looking his friend over instructed the warrior to put Legolas in his room so he would be more comfortable. Curudae had agreed and left the Prince in his chambers while the healers worked to put him back together, but that in itself was confusing. It was like nothing was wrong with their fair prince; it was like he was sleeping almost. From what he could see Legolas was a little scratched up and bruised, but otherwise he was fine.

As he walked away he spotted King Thranduil’s top advisor, Thespar, coming his way. Curudae resisted the urge to groan. He really disliked the advisor with a passion, no matter the reason why, he never even knew. They never agreed on anything and were locked in a constant battle over how things should be done. Most of the time they avoided each other and tried to be polite when they were forced together. Of course everything they said was through gritted teeth and their words would pierce one another.

Curudae kept his wits about him as the blond advisor passed him by without a word. A subconscious clash and crackling of the air around them told clearly of the strong rivalry between them. But neither said a thing and continued on their way. Curudae tilted his head to the side ever-so slightly and watched him out of the corner of his eye. He really didn’t trust the advisor even though his king did. That alone was probably the only thing they kept them from killing each other.

Continuing on his way he spotted one of the maids coming around the corner. She gave him a warm smile as she passed him by.

Thranduil impatiently looked up to see who had entered his study. He didn’t need more problems to worry about. This person would have to wait regardless of what the matter is and who it concerned. He was about to send the Elf away, but bit his tongue when he saw who now stood before him. It was Elrond. Thranduil gulped down the lump that slowly formed in his throat. Worry began to make itself known again.

“I was surprised that I didn’t see you hovering over him.”

“Something important came up; it involved the monsters surrounding my home. It is the strangest dealing with the spiders that we have ever had.”

Silence hung in the air before Thranduil asked the important question that had been teasing his mind for days.

“What of Legolas.” the King asked fearfully.

Elrond’s brow knitted in concentration as he searched for the words to best describe the young elf’s situation. “Legolas’s condition, in all honesty, has me perplexed.”

“What do you mean? Is he alright?”

“The actual wounds that I see are of no real concern Thranduil. By all rights he should be almost fully healed and up and about at this moment, but he is not. He just won’t wake up. I don’t know why, there has been no trauma to the head, nor should the wounds pain him enough to keep him out this long. What disturbs me is that he is not the only one like this.”

“Who else? Strider?”

“Aye, he was the first one I tended to. When Elladan brought Estel back his injuries were most grave, but still he responded. I clean and stitched the wound all the while listening to him begging, pleading with me to stop and leave him be.” Elrond faltered as he paused to regain him composer. Clearly he was remembering the torture he and his sons had gone though in that time frame. Thranduil patiently, yet anxiously, waited for Elrond to pull himself together. But one question remained in his mind and he would have it answered as soon as the Noldor Elf was ready.

Finally Elrond had packed away his emotions and collected himself. “I am sorry Thranduil. It’s just…”

“I know.” Thranduil cut in. He had felt those emotions more than once in his life it was wise to take the time to collect oneself instead of breaking down where you stand. “But tell me something, did you not sedate Estel before you put him back together? It is unlike you to neglect those details with patients especially your own family.”

Elrond nodded sadly, “I admit I had decided not to take the risk. Estel was at a delicate point at the time the slightest nudge in either direction would have killed him or saved him. I did not want to risk loosing him because I chose to keep him knocked out at the time.”

Thranduil nodded in understanding. He was about to say more when an impatient knock sounded at his door.

“King Thranduil come quickly there’s been an incident!” said Thespar barging into the room.

Thranduil stared at him for a few seconds to allow the information to sink in and the shock to wear off. Without question the elf came to his feet and followed Thespar in a hurried pace. No one ever barged in on the elven king unless it was of the utmost importance.

Elrond trailed after them not far behind. No one spoke though the burning question was on the tip of their tongues. What had happened? Asking would be a waist of the very breath they needed as they ducked down winding hallways and upstairs. Realization dawned in the back of Elrond's mind they were nearing the palace sleeping quarters. Another turn brought them closer to the living area where all the royals’ slept and important guests stayed. Worry set into both elf lords this was where their children were currently sleeping. If anything had happened here it was bound to involve at least one of them. Elrond would normally start ticking off all the things his wild boys could do, but the urgency in the elf’s voice suggested that this had been none of the twin’s usual pranks and mischief.

Thranduil couldn't help but feel panicked a little as they neared his son’s room. Grotesque thoughts kept spinning through his mind. He hadn't seen Legolas since he returned. Elrond had told all he needed to hear. Legolas was safe and unharmed - to an extent, of course, so he had assumed that his son had been tended to. Then he remembered the dreams he had been having the past nights. What if something had happened? What if something was wrong and the healers had been too hurried to see? What if, Thranduil came to realize, were truly horrible little words that could have many meanings, and brought fear to all who dared to ask.

They rounded the final corner where Thespar had seen the problem.

A figure dressed in a long white servant gown was laying belly down in the middle of the empty hallway. All three elves skidded to a stop and slowly approached the motionless figure.

"I found her like this my lord."

Thranduil felt relieved for half an instant that it had not been Legolas that was hurt. Elrond felt the same as he knelt down to examine the maiden. He didn’t need to search long judging by the sharp twist of the neck he concluded that it had been broken. Her eyes were trapped gazing into the darkness brought on by the end if life.

“She is dead.” he said solemnly. Passing a hand over her face Elrond gently closed the maiden’s eyes.

A/N: Well what do ya think? Anyone want to take a guess at who did it.

Love? Hate? General outrage? Let me know review pwease. (Pout; Big sad puppy eyes) My muse gets lazy without reviews and my clones get bored and annoy plot bunnies. Reviews make them happy and keep a small form of peace in my house.

(loud crash)

Elrohir Clone: Aaaa, ‘Dan! You broke Kat’s favorite statue!

Elladan Clone: Ooops.

(Authoress sweat drops)

Muse: Shoot! Who let all these plot bunnies loose?

El and El clones: Legolas did it.

Legolas clone: No, it wasn’t me! The gremlins did it.

(LOUD crash)

All: The kitchen!

Authoress: Please review so I can put them to work.

(Explosion)

Elrohir Clone: (pops head in) Um, Kat. The, uh, bunnies escaped and, uh, ate all the groceries you bought yesterday.

Authoress: Anything else?

Elrohir Clone: Yeah, Nameless (Elven muse) is strangling Legolas and Elladan blew up the mailbox. You sent the bills out yesterday, right?

(Power goes out)

Clones & Muse: Hey!
Who turned out the lights?
What’s going on?

Authoress: (sweat drops) Good thing my computer has battery backup. Please review me.


Chapter 5 - Who's To Blame

Chapter 5: Who’s to Blame?

Legolas woke to the sound of hurried feet, but when they passed by his room he suddenly felt too tired to get up and see what was going on and almost instantly went back to sleep the moment he considered staying in his comfortably warm bed.

What seemed like hours latter he awoke again, butthis time it was something different. Someone had entered his room.

“What do you think ‘Ro?”

“Looks like he’s still asleep.”

“That’s not what I meant. I mean do you think he knows what happened?”

“Of course, he was there you know.”

“But still something about this doesn’t feel right to me.”

Legolas instantly recognized the voices to belong to Elladan and Elrohir.

‘When did they get here?’ He asked himself, ‘Oh, well. It could be worse, they could be planning something.’

“Do you think he’ll wake up soon.’ asked Elrohir worry ringing loudly in his voice.

“I hope so.” said Elladan, almost sad sounding.

‘This isn’t right.’ Thought Legolas, ‘What went on during the night?’

Again the urge to fall into the comfort of sleep came upon him, but this time he would not sleep. He would fight the urge; he could sleep later if he needed. Now was not the time something was wrong in the city he called home.

“You know it’s rude to enter someone’s room without permission, and even ruder to talk about them while they sleep.” said a voice from the bed.

“Legolas.” said Elrohir. Relieved that his friend had at last awaken.

“We were worried. What happened to you?” Said an equally relieved Elladan.

“What are you talking about nothing happened to me.” said Legolas fighting off the yawn that was creeping up from his lungs. “Has your brother been having nightmares again?” he laughed, but soon stopped when he saw the shocked looks on the twins faces.

“What do you mean?” Elrohir nervously said.

Elladan furrowed his brow, “Legolas, what is the last thing you remember?” Elladan watched Legolas with a scrutinizing eye.

Legolas looked at them. What was going on? “I remember going out for a ride and…” Legolas paused, “No that’s not it… I was meeting Curudae for something.” A look of confusion passed across the Elf’s face, and the smile fell. Elladan and Elrohir watched with growing concern. “This is ridiculous I can’t remember what happened yesterday. It‘s like I missed an entire day. But you guys are late; you were suppose to be here before night fall.”

“Legolas,” interrupted Elrohir, “You do know we’ve been here for days, right?”

“Days?” said Legolas. Okay now he knew he had missed something.

...Time Pass (2 Days)...

Minutes turned into hours, hours became days and still no sign of the murderer had been found. Searches and interrogations had been done over a four day period and still nothing was found. Thranduil himself had questioned everyone the maid knew. In his search he had come to find the girl had no enemies, she was the quiet type that mostly kept to herself and stayed out of the business of others unless it involved her or any of her friends, she had befriended Legolas at a young age she had been the one to hide him when he was in trouble from a prank that had gone wrong.

Legolas had woken up the day after she had been found and being a good friend of the maiden he was shocked to learn of her death. It horrified and saddened him when he learned that the murder happened only a few doors away from his room. He couldn’t help but hate himself for being unconscious during the attack. He wished he had woken up sooner, if he had just dragged himself back a few hours earlier then he would have been able to defend her.

The twins filled him in on some of the details and his mind filled in the rest as his memories gradually returned to him. Unfortunately not all had returned. It saddened him greatly that he could not remember what happened to his friend Aragorn. And it hurt him to see hi friend in such a state. From what he could see and all he has heard the two were somehow connected. That in someway the girls murder and his friends injuries. They had to be connected somehow, they just had to.

Elrohir was sitting with his wounded brother, who had by now been moved to the room he normally used when he stayed.

There they now sat: King Thranduil, Elrond, Elladan, and Legolas. All discussing what should be done. Murder was a high crime in all realms no matter who the victim. But still they had nothing, no leads, no information. Nothing.

“The only guess I can make with the circumstances surrounding her would be that she was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.” said Elrond sadly.

“But still who was there and for what purpose?”

“Maybe it’s a friend of Mot’s” offered Elladan.

“Mot?” asked Legolas

“The one who kidnapped you.” said Thranduil; he turned to Elladan “Why would you say that?”

“Revenge. If Mot had followers, family, close friends they will seek revenge for his life.”

“Mot was human and no humans are currently in Mirkwood.”

“Except Estel.” said Thespar.

Elrond’s cold piercing eyes bore into the advisor “You’re not suggesting my son would have anything to do with this.” All eyes glared at the advisor, each silently daring him to say yes.

“I saw Thespar, entering the hallway right before the maid.” said Curudae thoughtfully.

Thespar looked up shock and surprise clearly written on his ageless features. All eyes turned on him once again and were instantly filled with suspicion.

“I-I don’t understand.” Thespar stammered.

Curudae smiled ever so slightly behind the turned backs, so he was right. No one reacts like that if they’re innocent. “Then what were you doing there. It’s your day off and don’t you normally go on one of your outings on those rare days?”

“Y-Yes, but…”

“Then why were you there. I must say it’s very suspicious that…”

“That’s enough!” yelled Thranduil at seeing his advisor in such distress. Thranduil scoffed, “You must be mistaken Curudae. Thespar has been loyal to my family for generations, never has he once showed any malice towards any one in this house. I will not have him treated as a criminal.”

“Yes, well. My apologies my Lord, I should not have jumped to conclusions.” said Curudae.

“See that you don’t.” Thranduil’s voice held a note of warning in it. He had known Thespar since his younger days. He had served loyally the royal family, and his ada held the advisor with the highest regards. Thespar had been Thranduil’s teacher and friend since as far back as he could remember, never had the idea that the Elf could ever harm another being much less commit kin slaying.

Elrond looked at the Prince gauging his response. “Legolas are you certain you remember nothing? Some detail no matter how small.” he asked hoping that maybe…just maybe some memory had surfaced.

Legolas shook his head, “I only know that I was taken, my captor didn’t say his name, he didn’t even tell me why I was kidnapped.”

Elrond sighed and stood, “I should probably go and check on Estel.”

“Is he awake yet?” Legolas asked hopefully.

The hopeful glint in the blond elf’s eyes did no go unnoticed by him and he deeply hated what he had to say. “No.”

A/N: Sorry this one wasn’t my best one and more or less a filler chapter. They will get better I promise.
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