TITLE:                        Old Flame

 

AUTHOR:                   Bess

 

E-MAIL:                      hendersons5@btopenworld.com

 

RATING:                     PG13

 

SUMMARY:                 Legolas meets someone from his past and goes on a hunt to southern Mirkwood  to investigate the disappearance of a company of Galadhrim.

 

DISCLAIMER:           I own nothing of Middle Earth or any of Tolkien’s worlds or characters. Everything recognizable belongs to JRR Tolkien; anything else belongs to me. I have no permission to use these characters and will receive no money for this story. This story is written for enjoyment only. Please do not use my original characters or situations without asking first. Thank you.

 

 

 

 

Prince Legolas Greenleaf, son of King Thranduil of Mirkwood stifled a yawn.  He was tired.  Actually, in truth, he was bored.  Very bored.  Excruciatingly bored.  And frustrated.  He idly looked around at the other elves trapped with him and saw Elladan, one of Lord Elrond’s twin sons looking equally disinterested in the proceedings of the meeting they were both a part of.  He could tell that Elladan was not concentrating on the matter in hand by the way he was narrowing his eyes and trying to line up the quill with which he was using to make notes, with Erestor, Elrond’s Chief Counsellor’s head.

 

Legolas had been sent to Rivendell by his father, as his representative, to participate in the discussions regarding the worrying situation in the south of the great forest of Mirkwood where lay the old fortress of Dol Guldur.  There had been a steady increase in the numbers of orcs and other fell creatures in the whole region centred around the dark tower, and a meeting had been convened by the Lord of Imladris, Elrond Half-elven, to decide what, if anything, should be done.  It was being attended by all of the elf lord’s advisors, several Galadhrim from Lothlórien and, in addition to Legolas, one of Thranduil’s councillors, a wise elf by the name of Mîrdur.

 

The young elf had told those present all that he could about the situation hours ago, and was now exhibiting all the signs of youthful impatience, in spite of being several hundred years old.  He began to muse on his journey to Imladris and how good it had been to see Lord Elrond’s foster son, Estel, again.  He looked forward to going hunting later that afternoon with his friend, Estel and the young human’s twin foster brothers, if they ever got out of this blasted meeting.

 

“.....do you agree, Prince Legolas?”  Asked Lord Elrond suddenly, snapping the prince out of his reverie.

 

“Huh?” Said Legolas, uncharacteristically.  Elladan sniggered quietly at his friend’s discomfort.

 

“Do you agree?”  Said the elf lord fighting back a slight smile.

 

“Erm.....yes, of course, my Lord.” Said Legolas, squirming slightly with embarrassment.  He felt like a naughty elfling, caught out by his teacher.

 

“With what in particular?” Said Elrond, an eyebrow raised slightly quizzically.

 

“With.....all of it.  I.....I agree with all of it, my Lord.  I am.....I am sure that you have covered everything more than adequately.”  Legolas said carefully.

 

“Then since Prince Legolas agrees, we shall indeed stop for lunch.”  Announced Lord Elrond with an amused glance at the flustered prince.

 

Everyone left the chamber except for Elladan and Legolas.  Elrond’s son threw himself down onto a low couch with a heavy sigh, and the other elf went over to the window and stared out crossly at the beautiful autumn day that beckoned enticingly.

 

“This is insufferable” moaned Elladan.  “Why can’t we just get on and make up our minds and do something, instead of sitting around talking about it!”

 

Legolas gave a sigh of frustration.  “I cannot bear it any longer.  With respect to all the worthy elves present, we could talk and talk for hours more but nothing will be decided and nothing will be done.  I know what will happen, Imladris and Lothlórien will pledge support to my father, and we will return and continue to fight the evil that encroaches on our kingdom, with maybe a few more elves to help if we are lucky.” He said bitterly.

 

“I know.  I don’t think I can stand being cooped up in here much longer.”  complained Elladan.  He paused for a moment, looking at Legolas with narrowed eyes as if deciding something.  “Shall we sneak off?” He suggested.

 

“Your father would be furious.”

 

“But only after he found us gone, and by then it would be too late.” 

 

The two friends looked at each other for a moment.

 

“What would be the worst he could do?” Asked Legolas, extremely tempted by Elladan’s suggestion.

 

“Hmm.  Probably stable duty, or maybe scrubbing floors.  Personally, I think it is worth it.”

 

Legolas frowned, staring out of the window again.  He looked at Elladan, a glint in his eye, his mind made up.

 

“Oh, come on, let’s find Estel and Elrohir.  If we hurry we’ll be away before anyone notices!” Said the prince, heading rapidly for the door.

 

“I am with you, cousin!” Cried Elladan, leaping up and following his friend.

 

*****

 

Elrohir, Elladan’s identical twin was in the stables casting an expert eye over a slightly lame horse, and Estel, his human brother, was leaning over the stable door watching when the two truanting elves found them.  Estel was the young man’s elvish name, given to him by Lord Elrond when he took him into his care many years ago after the boy’s father, Arathorn, was killed.  His rightful name was Aragorn and he was the heir of Isildur, last King of Gondor, but his heritage was kept secret until such time as he could claim the throne.

 

Aragorn gave a smile when he saw the two elves approach.  “Oh good, has the council finished?” He asked hopefully.

 

“Actually, no.” Said Elladan a little guiltily. 

 

“It is to resume after lunch.” Added Legolas.

 

Aragorn looked disappointed.  “Oh well, perhaps there will be time tomorrow to ride out.”

 

“We rather hoped to go now.” Said Elladan.

 

“But I thought you said.....”

 

“I did.  But nothing will be done, everyone will just talk about it for hours, and meanwhile Mirkwood grows ever darker.” Said Legolas crossly.

 

Elrohir looked up sympathetically at the frustrated young prince.  Aragorn laid a hand on his friend’s shoulder. 

 

“I know how you hate to see Mirkwood so abused, Legolas.”

 

Legolas nodded.  “ I am sorry.  It is just that I can remember how beautiful it was before it was spoiled, though I was only an elfling at the time.”

 

“I remember it too.  It was very fair.” Said Elladan wistfully.

 

“So you are resolved to run away from all the talking?” Enquired Elrohir, stroking the lame horse.

 

“Yes, will you join us?”

 

Elrohir nodded to the groom who held the horse, indicating that he could take it away, and smiled broadly.

 

“Try and stop us!” He laughed, and the four of them rushed to get ready for their illicit trip.

 

*****

 

An hour later, three elves and one young human sneaked out of Rivendell and set off for the nearest hunting grounds.  They were not too bothered if they caught anything, they only really wanted an excuse to get outside and into the autumnal woods and glades around the residence.  They ambled along, speeding up when Elladan sighted a deer and slowing down when it eluded them, and were content to enjoy the late afternoon sunshine filtering down through the canopy of green and gold leaves and each others companionship.

 

“You are very fortunate.” Sighed Legolas, lying back against a tree and staring up into the branches above his head.  They had stopped for a rest in a glade before returning back home.

 

“Why is that?” Asked Aragorn.

 

“This valley is so beautiful.  I wish.....” He said sadly, and then stopped, shaking his head. 

 

“Mirkwood will be beautiful again, Legolas, I am sure of it.” Said Elladan.  “Evil does not last for ever.  Not while we have strength to fight it.”

 

The prince smiled at his friend gratefully, just as Elrohir gave a puzzled frown and sat up.

 

“What is this?  Something draws near!”

 

The four were on their guard immediately, looking towards the sound of a rapidly nearing horse.

 

The riderless animal burst into the clearing a moment later, hot and sweaty and obviously in distress.  Legolas leapt forward and managed to catch hold of its reins while murmuring soft soothing words.

 

“It is an elvish horse, but where is its rider?”  Worried Elladan.

 

“They must have fallen.” Suggested Aragorn.  All three elves turned to the young man with raised eyebrows.

 

“What?.....Well all right, I know that elves do not simply ‘fall’ off their horses, but perhaps they have been hurt.” Said Aragorn indignantly.

 

“Legolas, will you stay here with the horse, while we see if we can solve this mystery?” Asked Elrohir.

 

Legolas agreed, stroking and patting the frightened beast, and the twins and Aragorn set off along the path the creature had taken.

 

They did not have to go very far when Elrohir gave a yell as he spotted a figure lying on the ground ahead.  It was a female elf and she had obviously been riding long and hard.  She was dressed as one of the Galadhrim, though she was dark and obviously not from Lothlórien, and her clothes were torn and dirty.  As the Elrohir reached her she gave a moan and sat up. 

 

“ Please, do not try to move for a moment.  Are you hurt?” He asked.

 

“Only my shoulder.”  She winced as he touched it gently.

 

“What happened?” Asked Elladan, as he reached them both.

 

“Orcs.  They chased me.  I got away but not before one of their arrows grazed my arm.  It frightened my horse and I fell.”  She replied, trembling a little.

 

Aragorn looked around anxiously.  “How many were there?”

 

“Three, I think.”

 

“They may still be around, do we track them?” Aragorn asked his brothers.

 

“No, we must get this lady back home.  The arrow may be poisoned.  We will send out a party to hunt for the orcs later.” Said Elrohir, helping the elf to her feet.  She clutched at him unsteadily for a moment.

 

“Please, I will be all right, do not worry about me.  I must get to Imladris, do you know the way?”

 

“You are fortunate for that is our home.  We are the sons of Lord Elrond.  We will take you there immediately.  Our companion has your horse, and we are not far from Rivendell.” Assured Elladan.

 

“ Thank the Valar.” Sighed the female elf in relief, and let herself be led back to the glade where the friends had rested earlier.

 

When Legolas heard voices, he looked up and on seeing the female elf with his companions, he froze, a look of astonishment on his face.

 

“Dúwen?”

 

She looked at him and her eyes widened.  “Legolas?” She said with a gasp, and promptly fainted, throwing the twins and Aragorn into a panic.

 

“ You know her?” Asked Elrohir, as his twin and foster brother tried to revive the elf.

 

“Yes.  I knew her a long time ago.” Murmured Legolas with a frown but did not add any more.  “Is she hurt?”  He asked, greatly concerned.

 

“Not badly, but I would like Father to look at her.  She has been scratched by an orc arrow.”

 

“I will ride with her.  Follow with her horse.”  The prince said tersely and, without further ado, scooped Dúwen up effortlessly into his arms.  As soon as he mounted his animal with her seated in front of him he urged it forwards in haste, swiftly disappearing out of sight.

 

“Well.” Said Aragorn as he watched his friend vanish into the woods.

 

“Well indeed.” Said Elladan, astounded by Legolas’ behaviour.  “Has Legolas ever mentioned an elf called ‘Dúwen’ to you brother?”

 

“No, never.”

 

“Then I think we had better follow quickly, if we are to find out more!” Said Elladan and the three brothers mounted and followed their friend.

 

*****

 

The party returned to Rivendell in haste and looked for Legolas.  Dúwen had not yet revived after her collapse on seeing the prince, and the twins and Aragorn found him pacing up and down impatiently outside her room for news of her condition, just as their father came out to speak with him.

 

“How is she?  How is Dúwen?” Legolas asked Lord Elrond anxiously.

 

“She will be fine, she awoke and I have spoken with her.”

 

“Can I see her?” Said Legolas, making for the door.

 

“Later, she is resting now.  She has had a long and arduous journey.  I will tell you all that she has told me,  but first I must attend to the cut on her arm.”

 

“Is it bad?  Is it poisoned?”  Said the prince, frowning desperately.

 

“No, no.  Do not worry.  It must be cleaned and dressed, that is all.”

 

“How soon can I see her?” Said Legolas, pestering the older elf.

 

“Go and sit down, Legolas.  I will come and find you when I am ready.” Said the exasperated healer.

 

Legolas nodded reluctantly and allowed himself to be led into the nearby hall by his three friends, and sat in a chair by the fire.  He stared into the flames with a far away look in his eyes.  The twins and Aragorn looked at each other, holding a silent conversation with surreptitious glances and gestures towards the prince who remained quite oblivious to their desperate longing to know more about the mysterious female elf.

 

Elladan could hold his curiosity no longer.  “Legolas, how do you know Dúwen?”  He asked bluntly.

 

“We were betrothed.” Legolas murmured, still gazing at the embers and lost in thought.

 

“What!” Cried all three brothers at once.

 

Legolas looked up to see his friends shocked faces.  “I told you, it was a long time ago.”

 

“But you have never mentioned this, ever!” Exclaimed Aragorn.

 

“It slipped my mind.” Said Legolas, a little defensively.  He obviously did not want to discuss the subject further but realised he was not going to be allowed to drop it.

 

“Getting married does not ‘slip your mind’!” Said Elladan with a snort.

 

“ I did not say we were married, I said we were betrothed.” Said Legolas crossly.

 

Elladan and Elrohir both grinned in amusement.  This was becoming a very interesting story.

 

Aragorn however could see that Legolas was worried about Dúwen and went and sat on the couch next to him.

 

“ What happened?” He asked gently.

 

Legolas sighed, rubbing his eyes with his hand.  “ She found another.”

 

“ I am sorry.” Said Aragorn sympathetically.

 

Legolas gave a small, wistful smile. “It was a very long time ago, Estel.  We were both very young.  Her father was one of my father’s advisors.  It seemed a good idea.  We liked each other a great deal, but then she met a visiting elf from Lothlórien called Rildur and they fell hopelessly in love.  My father was furious and threw her and her father out of Mirkwood.  He felt that her rejection of me was an insult to our family.”

 

“Did you love her?” Asked Elrohir sitting on the floor cross legged in front of Legolas.  The prince gave a frown.

 

“ I thought I did, at the time.  I was hurt when she left, but my disappointment did not last for long, so I think that perhaps what I believed was love was really the fondness and affection of two close friends.”

 

“Do you care for her now?” Asked Elladan, leaning against the fireplace.

 

“I am worried about her.  I do not like to see her suffer so.  Why was she riding so fast to Rivendell as if the hounds of hell were at her heals?” The prince said anxiously.

 

“Perhaps Father will be able to tell us more when he has finished taking care of her.” Said Aragorn, giving Legolas arm a comforting squeeze.

 

“ Did she marry Rildur?” Asked Elrohir, still sitting on the floor, now with his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands as if hearing a bedtime story.

 

“I do not know what happened to her after she left Mirkwood, Elrohir.  I think that saddened me more than anything.  We were friends and I lost her.”

 

“ She was dressed in the style of the Galadhrim.” Said Elladan.

 

“Indeed she was.” Said Lord Elrond, coming into the room.  Legolas jumped up at once. 

 

“How is Dúwen?” He asked.

 

“ As I said, she will be fine.  The cut to her shoulder is not deep, and the wound was not poisoned.  Do not worry, Legolas.”

 

“Why is she here?  What brought her to Rivendell in such haste?” Said Elladan.

 

Lord Elrond joined the eldest twin by the fireplace. “It is a worrying tale, and highly relevant to the council meeting that two of you should have been at this afternoon.” He said, glaring a little at Legolas and Elladan.

 

“Sorry, Father” mumbled Elladan.

 

“Hmm.  I have not forgotten your disrespect.” Said his father, narrowing his eyes.

 

“No Father.” Said the elf sheepishly.

 

Elrond stared at the flames for a moment frowning.  “ It appears that Dúwen’s husband, Rildur,  has gone missing, along with several of  his fellow marchwardens while guarding the eastern fences of Lothlórien.  It is believed that they must have been attacked without warning.  They vanished with little trace.  All of them were experienced fighters.”

 

“Then they did marry.  I am glad.”  Murmured Legolas under his breath, and added, “but my Lord, why did Dúwen come here.  Surely the Galadhrim are more than capable of dealing with the safety and security of the Golden Wood, without help from anyone else.”

 

“Normally, yes.”

 

“Then what is different?” Asked Elrohir.

 

“I said that there was little trace of the missing guard, but what there was seemed to indicate that they had been taken, alive, into southern Mirkwood, heading for Dol Guldur when the trail was lost, and the few signs that there were suggested that the captives were all dead.”

 

“Dol Guldur?” Exclaimed Legolas in horror.

 

“ I am afraid so.  Dúwen begged Lord Celeborn to send a further search party, but he believed it to be hopeless.  She knew of the council meeting here and decided to come and plead for help.  She is convinced that her husband is still alive.”

 

“May Ilúvatar forgive me if I pray that he is not.” Said Legolas going pale.  “Dol Guldur is a most terrible place.”

 

“She says that she knows you Legolas, and has asked to speak with you privately.”

 

Legolas nodded.  “We were close.  Once.  I will come.”  He said and followed the elf Lord from the room.

 

*****

 

When Legolas entered the chamber and saw Dúwen lying pale and drawn on the bed, his heart gave a small leap.  He had not been totally honest with his friends.  He had been very hurt when the beautiful elf had told him she could not go through with their proposed marriage, for in spite of what he had told Elrohir, Legolas had loved her very much.  However he had seen that she did not return his feelings and willingly released her from her promise.  It had taken him a very long time to forget his heartache, and seeing her now reminded him of the feelings he once had.

 

Pushing away his regrets he went to sit by Dúwen’s side and she looked up at him with the gentle smile that he remembered so well.

 

“I could not believe it when I saw you, Legolas.” She whispered.

 

Legolas laughed.  “I was more than a little surprised myself.  How is your shoulder?”

 

“A little sore, but it will heal quickly.  Lord Elrond has been very kind.”

 

“I am glad.”

 

There was an awkward silence.

 

“Legolas.....I am sorry.  I never wanted you to be hurt.” Said Dúwen, taking hold of the prince’s hand.

 

“That was a long time ago, Dúwen.  I am sorry that I lost your friendship.  I did not want you to leave Mirkwood.”

 

“I know.”

 

Another uncomfortable pause.

 

“ I am sorry to hear about Rildur.  He was a proud warrior, a formidable archer.”

 

Dúwen frowned.  “ He is still alive Legolas.  I am sure of it.” She said, closing her eyes as if searching for an invisible connection to the elf she loved.

 

“I believe you.” Said Legolas, not knowing why, but he did.

 

“Many do not.”  Dúwen began to cry.  “I do not know what to do anymore.  I cannot give up hope.  I would know if he were dead, would I not?” She said, sobbing.

 

Legolas pulled her into his arms and soothed her, patting her head and rocking her gently. 

“ I am certain of it, Dúwen.”  He pulled back and lifted her chin, looking into her eyes.  Whether it was the deep sorrow for her missing lover that he saw there, or whether it was because of the love that he still had for her he never knew, but something in her eyes made him want to do something, anything to comfort her. 

 

Before he thought about it he said, “I will find him for you, I promise.”

 

“Would you?  Would you do that for me?  But no,  I cannot ask you, no, it is far too dangerous, Legolas.” Dúwen cried.

 

Legolas held her tightly as she wept even harder.  Having made his impulsive vow he would not break it.  “I will find him, and I will bring him back to you.  I give my word.” He said, recklessly.

 

Slowly Dúwen ceased crying, and Legolas released her from his embrace.

 

“Tell me all that you know of Rildur’s disappearance.” He asked gently.

 

“It is thought that he and the other wardens were attacked and taken captive, though no one knows how this could be.  They were all strong, experienced warriors.  A search party followed their trail to the edges of Mirkwood, and there the search party found some of their clothes and weapons, but not all.  There were no signs of a struggle or fight and no.....no.....” Dúwen drew a shaky breath.

 

“Take your time, it will be all right.” Soothed Legolas.

 

Dúwen swallowed.  “There were no bodies.”

 

“It is a puzzle, certainly.  The Galadhrim would not have given in to aggressors without a fight.  Was there anything else?”

 

“There were indications that they were headed towards Dol Guldur.  The search party ventured a little way into the forest, but found nothing further.” 

 

Legolas sat lost in thought for the moment until Dúwen sighed heavily. “It is hopeless, Legolas.”

 

“There is always hope.” Said Legolas suddenly rising from her bedside and making ready to go.

 

“I wish I could believe that.” Said the unhappy elf.

 

“Then let me believe it for you, Dúwen.  I will set out immediately and head for southern Mirkwood.  I *will* find Rildur for you and I will bring him back.  This I have promised.”  He gave Dúwen a warm smile.

 

“Please, Legolas, take care.  I could not bear to lose you again.” She said in a small voice.

 

“I will.” And with a brief kiss to the top of Dúwen’s head he left her room.

 

*****

 

Legolas went directly to his quarters and, after gathering a few things that he thought he would need, he headed for the stables.  As he made his hasty preparations he asked himself again and again why he had made such a promise to Dúwen.  It was not that he was afraid, though the prospect of an excursion into the heart of southern Mirkwood did not exactly fill him with delight, but now that he had left the she-elf’s side he began to have doubts that he would be able to find her missing husband.  He grimly shook his misgivings aside.  He would bring Rildur back, whether he were alive or dead.  The least he could do was to find out what had happened to him and his companions.

 

Should he tell Estel and the twins?  Perhaps not.  They would only try to stop him from going on a fool’s errand.  He hesitated briefly, and then decided to leave a written note. He hastily scrawled a message and left it on his bed.  That way he ensured that it would not be seen until much later in the evening, when it was too late to follow him.  Night was falling, but Legolas did not want to wait until the cold morning sun cast its critical light on his decision.

 

As soon as he was ready, he mounted his horse and rode out of Rivendell heading south towards the Redhorn pass.  It would take him several days to reach Lothlórien if he rode hard. He intended to gather as much information as he could as he passed through the Golden Wood, and then follow the trail of the missing Galadhrim, if there was indeed anything left to follow. 

 

*****

 

“I wonder why our friend never mentioned the Lady Dúwen to us before?” Mused Elladan.

 

The situation had been the topic of conversation for quite some time among the brothers after the prince left with Lord Elrond.

 

“As Legolas said, it all happened a very long time ago.  I do not think he wished to talk about it.”  Said Aragorn.  He had noticed the way his friend had talked about Dúwen and felt that the elf was not being completely truthful about his feelings.  He sensed that Legolas had been hurt more than he admitted earlier, and wanted to protect him from the twin’s curiosity.

 

“ I wonder what happened to the Galadhrim wardens?  That is a real puzzle.” Said Elrohir, frowning and shaking his head.

 

“Indeed.” Agreed his brother.  “It is almost as if they went willingly with their captors, but I cannot believe that.”

 

“Strange things come out from Dol Guldur.  Lothlorien has always looked eastwards with caution.”

 

“It is true.  Let us go and find Legolas, and see if Dúwen has told him any more about her husband’s disappearance.” Said Elladan, and the three left looking for their Mirkwood friend.

 

By this time Legolas was well on his way, though his companions did not know this.  They were not particularly concerned when they did not find the prince immediately, assuming that he was either still talking to Dúwen or Lord Elrond, or that he had sought out his father’s advisor to let him know of the situation in the far south of the woodland Kingdom.

 

It was not until they met for dinner late that evening that they realised Legolas was missing. 

 

“Father, have you seen Legolas this afternoon?” Asked Elrohir.

 

“Not since I took him to speak with Dúwen.  Why, have you not seen him?”

 

“None of us has.  We thought that he was with you or his father’s advisor, but Mîrdur has not seen him either.” Said Elladan, a slight niggling worry working its way into his mind.

 

Aragorn had more than a niggling worry.  “He has gone to Mirkwood alone.  I know it!” He exclaimed.

 

“Surely not.....” Began Elrohir, but then he groaned.  “Ai!  You are right, it is exactly what he would do.”

 

“ I will look in the stables and see if his horse is missing.....” Called Aragorn as he left the room.

 

“.....and I will check his room.” Said Elladan, heading towards the prince’s chambers.

 

A few minutes later Aragorn and Elladan returned with grim expressions.

 

“The groom said that Legolas left early evening, and was prepared for a ‘long’ journey.” Reported Aragorn with a sigh of frustration.

 

“Here is a note, it was on his bed.” Said Elladan, and the three brothers and their father gathered round to read it.

 

My friends,

I have gone to find Dúwen’s husband, Rildur and the other Galadhrim.  I promised her that I would bring him back.  I know it is folly.  Do not follow - I do not wish to lead you into danger.  Please give Mîrdur the other letter I have left and ask him to take it to my father.

Legolas

 

“What shall we do, we cannot let him go alone.” Said Elrohir, beginning to walk towards the door.

 

“We must leave straight away, and maybe we can catch him up.” Added Elladan, moving swiftly across the room.

 

“I will get the things we will need.” Said Aragorn, half way to the passage.

 

“Wait, my sons.” Said Lord Elrond, stopping all three of them in their tracks.  “You will not catch Legolas even if you leave this minute.”

 

“But Father!.....”

 

“But he is.....”

 

“We must hurry and.....”

 

“I did not say you should not follow.  Wait until first light, and then ride hard.  I would guess that he has headed to Lothlórien, you may be able to overtake him there.”

 

The three brothers reluctantly agreed and set about making preparations.  Elladan gave the prince’s note to Mîrdur, who was extremely upset at the thought of telling King Thranduil of his errant son.  He knew the King’s temper too well.

 

As dawn broke, Elladan, Elrohir and Aragorn were in the courtyard, mounted and ready to follow Legolas.  Elrond stood on the shallow steps of his house to bid them farewell, Dúwen tearfully by his side.  When she had been told that Legolas had gone alone to find her husband she had sobbed guiltily, convinced that she was responsible for sending him to his death. Elrond had calmed her fears, reassuring her that the prince was more than capable of looking after himself, and in any case his three sons were going to find him and offer what help they could, even though in his heart he felt that this quest of the young elf’s was foolhardy and reckless.

 

“Take great care my sons.  Remember that Legolas knows Mirkwood far better that any of you, even the little travelled southern region.  Do not take risks in trying to find him, and stay away from Dol Guldur if at all possible.” He warned the two elves and the young human.

 

“We will, Father.  We will bring the prince home safely.” Said Elladan.

 

The elf Lord raised his hand in farewell and the three spun about on their horses and flew out of the gates of Rivendell, following the path of their friend.

 

*****

 

Legolas made good progress on his journey, not stopping through the night or the best part of the next day, except to rest his horse briefly by a stream.  As the leagues pounded by under his horse’s hooves, his mind was free to ponder the situation that he found himself in. 

 

He could not honestly explain why he had offered to find Rildur and the missing elves.  He had been deeply touched by Dúwen’s grief and his realisation of how much she loved her husband. And he was surprised at the feelings in himself that he thought long buried.  He always would do anything for her, even when it came to releasing her into the arms of another.  He took great comfort in the fact that he had done the correct thing centuries ago.  She was obviously meant to be with the fair Galadrhim.  He smiled ruefully to himself.  That was not how his father had seen it.....

 

 

.....“What!  Bring her father to me at once!” King Thranduil had raged throughout his halls, a very young Legolas at his heels.

 

“Please, Father, do not.....I beg you!”  The young prince was mortified and hurt enough without his father adding to his discomfort.

 

“I will not have my family slighted in this way!” He snapped at his son, not seeing the pain he himself was causing in his anger.

 

“But it is all right, really it is.  Dúwen loves someone else more than me.”  He pleaded.

 

The King snorted, “Ha! A Lothlorien warden is considered more worthy of the vixen’s affections than a Prince of Mirkwood?”

 

“It is not like that.” Murmured the desperate young elf.  “I just want her to be happy, Father.  She is my friend.  She would not be happy if we were to marry.  I do not wish to hold her to her pledge, she would always hate me for it.”  Legolas felt wretched enough about the whole situation.  He did not want to have to defend his kind heart to the King.  It hurt too much already.

 

The King reached his throne and threw himself down on it.  “Sit.” He demanded of his son, who slumped in his seat by his father’s side, a picture of misery.

 

Dúwen’s father, Fëaas, was brought in front of King Thranduil.  The poor elf was terrified, he had seen his King in a temper many, many times when acting as his advisor.  But he loved his daughter, and knew that she had meant no harm.  Love can be fickle.

 

“Well! What have you to say to me about your daughter’s disgraceful conduct?!”

 

“Father, please.....” Thranduil silenced his son with a fierce gesture.

 

Fëaas swallowed nervously.  “M.....My Lord.  She is very young, I.....I told her that I thought she was a little hasty when she accepted Prince Legolas’ prop.....”

 

“You told her she was ‘hasty’!  What is wrong with my son?  Is he not fair?” Shouted the King, completely oblivious to his son’s embarrassment and distress.  Legolas closed his eyes tightly and gave a little whimper.

 

By now all the elves in the Great Hall had fallen silent, all feeling uncomfortable for their beloved prince.  They knew how impossible the King could be, and also how much he adored his son.  Anything that hurt the young elf  hurt his father also, but King Thranduil always reacted with fury rather than sympathy and comfort.

 

“That is not what I meant at all, your Majesty.  I merely felt that she was too young to be certain of her heart.  I deeply regret that I did not insist that she wait before promising herself to your son.” Said Fëaas, managing at last to compose himself.  He could see how unhappy Legolas was, and wanted to draw this whole sorry scene to a close as fast as possible.  He had grown fond of Thranduil’s son in the past few months and knew that he loved his daughter very much.

 

“You are not welcome at my court any longer, Fëaas.  If you cannot manage your own daughter, you are not fit to advise me.  Take her and leave immediately.” Said Thranduil, coldly.

 

“My Lord!.....”

 

“Please, Father, no!.....” Cried Legolas, he did not think he could bear it if he lost Dúwen as a friend as well.

 

Thranduil ignored his son’s plea.  “Go.  Now.”

 

Fëaas bowed, and, giving a sympathetic glance to the young, miserable elf, he left the hall and Mirkwood.....

 

 

.....Legolas sighed at the memories.  That day was one he would never forget.  He had tried to follow Dúwen and her father to tell them that he bore no ill will, but the King would not let him do so and he had never seen her again, until she fell from her horse in Rivendell, hundreds of years later. 

 

And now he was heading towards.....what?  What had happened to the missing wardens?  The mystery greatly intrigued him, sparking his natural curiosity.  He rode hard on into the evening, putting as much distance as he could between him and Rivendell.  He guessed that Aragorn and the twins would follow in spite of his note to them and did not want to give them any opportunity to catch him up.

 

He planned to stop as little as possible, trusting to good fortune that he would not meet any trouble on the way.  His luck held, and daybreak several days later found the prince looking down from the Misty Mountains at the fair woodland realm of Lórien.

 

*****

 

Aragorn and his twin foster brothers had not had quite the good fortune of their silvan friend.

They had been delayed by the young man’s horse losing a shoe, a minor but annoying encounter with some wolves and an irritating skirmish with half a dozen orcs, none of whom survived to tell the tale.  By the time they reached Lothlórien, Legolas had already passed through two days previously.

 

Elladan and Elrohir had visited the Golden Wood many times, but Aragorn had never visited Lothlórien before, and was curious to see the land he had heard so much about from his brothers.

 

The Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, who ruled the realm and kept it safe, were the twins’ maternal Grandparents.  Their mother had left for the undying lands many years ago after she had been captured and tormented by orcs.  Although she had escaped with her life, Middle earth no longer held any beauty for her and she could stay no longer.  She waited in the Blessed Realm for her family to join her when the time came for all elves to leave Middle earth and go to the West. 

 

As soon as the three travellers crossed the borders, they were met by a party of Galadhrim and taken to meet with the Lord and Lady of the wood.  Vast Mallorn trees towered above them as they were led to the very heart of the kingdom, their smooth silver trunks seeming to reach almost infinite heights to the shimmering golden leaves above.  High in the branches were graceful platforms and structures, the city of Caras Galadon.  The tallest of the trees held the talan of the Lord and Lady, and Aragorn nervously climbed the ladders to the top, following his more confident foster brothers.

 

He stood anxiously beside Elladan and Elrohir as the two graceful and powerful elves approached.  They were both tall, with silver gold hair and eyes of an indeterminate colour that shifted like water reflecting the sky.  When Galadriel’s eyes met the young man’s he felt exposed, ripped open, as if she were searching deep within his soul.  He gazed bravely and openly back at her, trusting and willing to accept her scrutiny.  Whatever she found there satisfied her for she smiled at him, giving the slightest of nods.

 

Aragorn let out a breath he had not realised he held, and relaxed a little.  He felt as though he had passed a test.

 

“Welcome, sons of my daughter, and welcome, Isildur’s heir.”

 

Elladan and Elrohir bowed gracefully and formally, and then ran forward and embraced their grandmother warmly.  They were the only beings she ever allowed to do so.  She smiled fondly at them both.

 

“Do not be so nervous, Aragorn, I will not bite you.” She said, laughing.  Celeborn took her hand and kissed it gently.

 

“You underestimate your formidable presence my dear.” He said, chuckling.  He turned to the twins.  “I have business to attend to.  When your grandmother has finished hearing all the Imladris gossip from the pair of you, come and find me and I will tell you what I told the Mirkwood prince about the missing Galadhrim.”  And with a bow to his wife, he left.

 

“How long ago did Legolas pass through these lands, Grandmother?” Asked Elrohir.

 

“He left our borders for the East two days ago.”

 

“As long ago as that?” Groaned Aragorn.

 

“We were delayed longer than we expected, Estel, it could not be helped.” Said Elladan, knowing how frustrated the young man was.

 

“He stayed here only long enough to gather the information he needed, although there was not much to tell.  I must admit, I was greatly surprised when he arrived and announced his intention to find our missing marchwardens.  He would not even tell us how he knew of their plight.”

 

“It was Dúwen, Grandmother.  She came to Imladris for help.”

 

“The wife of Rildur?  Yes, she believes that her husband still lives.  But why would the Prince of Mirkwood be so concerned with the wife of one of my Galadhrim?”

 

Aragorn spoke before his brothers had the chance to gossip.  “They knew each other a long time ago in Mirkwood, my Lady.” He said firmly.

 

“Ah, yes, Dúwen was from Mirkwood, I had quite forgotten.” Said Galadriel with a knowing glance at Aragorn.

 

The young man had the distinct feeling that the Lady knew exactly what the situation had been.

 

“Have you been able to ‘see’ anything in your mirror concerning the missing warriors, Grandmother?” Asked Elrohir openly. 

 

Elladan frowned at his brother and shook his head sharply, Aragorn looked puzzled at the exchange and Galadriel raised one perfect eyebrow.  The Lady had a magic mirror, a dish which, when filled with water, reflected the past, the present and what the future might hold if paths were taken or ignored.  She could use it and on rare occasions allowed others to look into its depths, but the meaning of the things seen was not always clear.  It was a rare and hidden treasure and something that was not usually spoken of so casually.

 

Elrohir blushed a little.  “Oh, I am sorry Grandmother.  I forgot.  I should not be so presumptive.”  The Lady Galadriel smiled forgivingly at her grandson.  She remembered finding Elrohir many, many years ago when he was a very young elfling, splashing in her mirror and ‘looking for fishes’, he had never been allowed to forget his youthful indiscretion.

 

Galadriel’s eyes grew serious.  “I have looked into its depths, but saw nothing but fragments. Orcs gathering, the missing Galadhrim walking through Mirkwood, Legolas...”

 

“Legolas?”

 

“Yes, I saw the prince.  All around him it was dark and he was unhurt, but alone.  It was something that may or may not yet come to pass.  There was no more.”

 

“So the elves were alive?”

 

“I could not tell whether I saw the present or the future, but certain other.....images led me to believe that they were dead.” Said the Lady, a look of sorrow and pain on her face.

 

“Then Dúwen was wrong.” Said Elladan sadly.

 

“Legolas did not think so.  Sometimes hope is found where there is none if the heart desires it.  Go to your Grandfather and he will tell you everything he knows.”

 

The three brothers bowed, took their leave and sought out Lord Celeborn.

 

The elf Lord could not tell them much more except that the few things that remained of the missing elves, some clothes and a few weapons, looked to have been left behind deliberately, almost as if they had been tired of carrying them, or were too hot for their cloaks.  Beyond that it was not possible to follow their tracks for the forest became impenetrable.  But there was blood, on the clothes, the weapons and the ground.  Too much blood for any hope to thrive.

 

Elladan and Elrohir decided that they would go straightaway to look at the eastern fences where the Galadhrim had been patrolling, while Aragorn restocked their supplies and made ready for them to follow Legolas into Mirkwood.  The young man would then join them early the next day for the next stage of their quest.

 

The twins arrived at the place they sought late that afternoon and spent the early part of the evening walking the edges of Lothlórien and looking across the Great River, Anduin, at the dark shadow of Mirkwood many leagues away to the east.  Between them lay an expanse of scrubby, rocky grasslands, spattered with small copses of thin trees and cut into by narrow, deep ravines with water trickling at the bottom out of sight.

 

The brothers made camp that night in a flet high in the trees with a good view eastwards.  Their superior elvish eyesight could just make out the faint smudge of the towers of Dol Guldur over a hundred miles away.

 

“Where do you think Legolas is, Ell?” Asked Elrohir anxiously.

 

“Over there, in Mirkwood, unfortunately.” Answered his brother with a sigh.  “We can only trust that he knows what he is doing.  After all, Mirkwood is still his home, even if it has become an evil place these past years.”

 

Elrohir lay staring out at the darkness.  Suddenly he sat up frowning.  “What is that?  Do you see it?”

 

“What, Ro?” Said Elladan, intrigued and rising to his knees beside his brother.

 

“There!  A light!”

 

“What, I can’t.....oh, yes, just then.  I saw a flash.”

 

“How far away do you think it is?” Asked Elrohir softly.

 

“Two, maybe three leagues.  It is difficult to tell in the dark.  Who would be moving about on the plains at night?”

 

“Whoever it is, they are not worried about being seen, if they carry such a light about them.”

 

“I wonder what would cause a light so bright?.....” Wondered Elladan.

 

“I do not know, it is too bright for a simple burning torch, or even a campfire.”

 

“.....and it moves.  I recall once seeing Mithrandir, the wizard produce a light so bright that it hurt my eyes....”

 

“Hmm.  I suppose it could be something like that.....” Said Elrohir doubtfully.

 

“.....I think we should investigate.” Said Elladan.  “There is something about it that reminds me.....”  His eyes were lost in thought for a moment.

 

“Ell, I do not think that is a good idea.” Frowned his twin.

 

“But if it is something to do with the missing elves, then we may solve the mystery!” Said his older twin enthusiastically while gathering his weapons and cloak.

 

“We should wait till first light.”  There was something about his brother’s curiosity that made Elrohir feel uncomfortable.

 

“Then there will be no ‘light’ to follow and we will have lost our chance.  I am going, you can choose to stay or come with me.  It is up to you.” Said Elladan, a little abruptly and disappeared swiftly down the ladder to their flet.

 

Elrohir gave a sigh and shook his head.  He had a very bad feeling about this, growing worse by the moment, but he could not abandon his brother so he grabbed what he needed and followed him to the ground.

 

They made their way to the banks of the river and found one of the small, grey boats that were always left tied in case someone wished to cross the Anduin.  They got in and paddled hard against the current to the other side.  It was unfortunate that they had to leave their craft moored on the ‘wrong’ side of the river.  Normally an elf would ferry across the few travellers that ventured eastwards and return with the vessel, but the twins knew that at dawn any patrolling Galadhrim would retrieve any boats from the other side of the water.

 

Elladan and Elrohir set off into the night, heading for the mysterious light.  After about two hours the brothers seemed to be no nearer to their goal.  They caught sight of the elusive, bright flame just often enough to keep them following in the right direction but could not draw closer.

 

Elrohir was not happy.  “I really do think we should turn back, Ell.  We can return later with Estel and maybe others.”

 

“No, we are closer now.  Just another mile and we will gain on it.”

 

“Please, Ell.  This feels wrong.” Pleaded Elrohir, seriously worried.

 

Elladan rounded on his twin.  “What, are you frightened?  I did not think you were such a coward, Elrohir.  Perhaps you should have stayed at home.” He sneered.

 

Elrohir was shocked at his brother’s hard words.  He stared at him in stunned silence.  Elladan had never said anything like that to him before, and now he knew for certain that something was not right.  He remembered how the missing patrol had disappeared without a struggle or a fight into Mirkwood.  What if they had been led away, by a light such as this? 

 

“Elladan, please, listen to me.  I do not think you are yourself.  Let us go back.  Now.  We must talk to Grandmother and tell her about this.  I think the missing elves were lured away somehow and.....”

 

Completely without warning, Elladan swung his fist in an arc and hit Elrohir on the side of the head.  The younger twin collapsed, unconscious, to the ground.

 

“I told you, I am gaining on it and you will not stop me.”  The older elf said to his brother’s still form, and turned and ran on towards the light.

 

*****

 

As the Lady Galadriel had said, Legolas had left Lóthlorien some two days ago and as Elladan and Elrohir began their investigation of the eastern borders of the Golden Wood, the prince had reached the edges of southern Mirkwood.  He entered the dark grim forest cautiously.  He was used to many of the dark things within its confines for even the northern woods immediately around his father’s palace were not wholly free of the dreadful spiders and other fell creatures, but here in the south such things were left free to breed and grow.  They were a lot worse to deal with.

 

And there was Dol Guldur.  Legolas could feel the oppression of the dark tower even from some fifty or so  miles away.  It cast a dark shadow over the land and sent icy fingers of despair into the elf’s heart and mind.  He really did not want to be here and seriously questioned his own sanity.  But then he thought of Dúwen and how unhappy she was at the loss of her husband and he remembered his promise. 

 

Just inside the forest he found the clearing where the missing elves’ clothes and weapons had been found.  Even though it was some time since they had vanished, the elf found traces of the blood on the ground, enough to give him cause for concern.  He sat for a while pondering the scene and thinking over the information he had.  He had given up on trying to work out how and why the elves got to this place and decided to concentrate on the reasons why they would they left their bows, arrows and swords in this clearing. 

 

Perhaps they believed they were in no danger?  It was the only possible answer, if there were no signs that they had been taken by force.  But then there was the blood?  Legolas frowned.  Forget about the blood for a moment.  What if, for some reason, the Galadhrim were lured here?  What if they ‘thought’ it was safe?  That would explain why they felt they did not need to defend themselves. 

 

But what about the blood?  The prince sighed in frustration.  It was almost as if the missing elves did not want to be found.  He thought for a moment and suddenly grew excited.  Perhaps that was it, what if they did not want to be followed?  The more he thought about it, the more it seemed to fit the evidence.  They could have arrived in the forest and cast down their weapons and some of their clothes, then spread blood around to make it look as if they had been slain.  If this was so, then they must have slaughtered an animal, or several animals to get the blood.

 

Now Legolas felt he had something he could work on.  He decided that, if his theory was correct, somewhere nearby there would be signs that a number of animals had been killed.

He began hunting through the bushes and trees around the dismal glade and quickly came across the charred remains of three or four large wolves.  It was true, it could be the remains of an orc hunt, but Legolas stirred the ashes until he found what he was looking for, the remains of a fine elven arrow tip.  His theory on what happened was sound though it still did not explain why.

 

Legolas glanced up.  The moon was low in the clear sky.  It would soon be dark and he did not intend to spend any longer than necessary on the ground.  He hastily gathered enough wood to build himself a small flet in the trees and scurried into the branches of a twisted oak and settled for the night.

 

He had not been sitting on his makeshift platform for long when he saw something drawing nearer through the trees.  It was a patch of shadow, darker than the night around it and something about it filled the prince with a cold dread.  It drew closer and Legolas began to shiver uncontrollably.  It entered the moonlit clearing and seemed to absorb the pale silver light, draining it from all around.  It was almost formless, though there was a hint of a man about its size and shape, as if a man were swathed in a black cloud.  Where its features might have been were even darker smudges, a suggestion of eyes and mouth. 

 

The elf felt nauseous and dizzy as the creature came closer. It turned and swirled about and Legolas found that he held his breath as the ‘face’ turned towards his hiding place.  He knew that he could not be seen, but he felt an almost overwhelming desire to say, “ here I am. Get it over with.  Finish me.”  The horror passed beneath his flet and moved away to the edge of the forest and out into the wild lands beyond.  Legolas blinked and shook his head, breathing again.  He swallowed against the sickness in his stomach as he realised that his hands were gripping the edge of the wooden platform and he had been about to leap down at the shadow’s feet and give himself up.  If the Galadhrim had met that creature, he could well believe that they would have gone willingly to their doom, and carried out anything that the creature asked them, including making it appear as if they had been slain. 

 

The prince watched into the night as the shadow moved swiftly away across the plain towards Lóthlorien.

 

*****

 

Aragorn had finished gathering what he and his foster brothers would need for their trip into Mirkwood.  He had been aided by Haldir, one of the senior marchwardens, and who had know Rildur well.  The fair, serious elf had told Aragorn as much as he could about his friend and his companions, and given him details about the routine of patrolling the fences that might be of use in finding out what had happened to the missing elves. 

 

First light on the day after he and the twins had parted found Aragorn and Haldir on their way to the flet that the brothers had been temporarily assigned. 

 

“Elladan, Elrohir?  Are you ready?” Called the young man up into the silent tree.

 

Haldir frowned.  “Perhaps they are still sleeping.”  He quickly climbed the ladder to the platform and after a moment his head appeared over the edge.  “They are not here, and neither are their weapons.”  He jumped down gracefully to stand beside the man.  “They may have gone ahead to the Anduin.” The elf suggested.

 

“We arranged to meet here, but I suppose they may have.”  The first prickling of unease crept into Aragorn’s mind.  The two companions made their way to the point where the boats were moored.

 

Haldir could see in a glance that a boat was missing, and hissed when he saw it tied up across the water.  “They have already crossed.”

 

“But they would not have, not without me, not without a word.”  Aragorn’s anxiety grew. 

 

“Perhaps they saw something and.....” Began Haldir.

 

“Perhaps they have 'disappeared’ like your companions.” Said the man grimly.

 

Haldir nodded unsmilingly.  “Perhaps.  I must confess that this worries me.” 

 

“And I am afraid I agree.  I must follow.  Will you take me across the river?” Asked Aragorn, throwing his pack into the nearest boat. 

 

“Of course, and I will come with you until you find Elladan and Elrohir.  Two are better than one, and I feel that there may be answers to this mystery in your brothers’ disappearance.”

 

“Thank you.” Said the young man gratefully.  Haldir called to a patrolling elf, passing on a message to the Lord and Lady of the wood, and informing them of where they were going and he and Aragorn leapt aboard the light craft.  The marchwarden pushed the boat from its moorings and skilfully steered it across to the opposite bank.

 

The twins’ trail was easy to follow and Aragorn and Haldir soon covered the ground that Elladan and Elrohir had travelled a few hours earlier.  The young man was increasingly concerned for his brothers and his concern grew into outright alarm when he spotted a dark figure lying face down on the ground not far ahead.

 

“Elrohir!” He cried, running up to the stricken elf and crouching down on the ground beside him.  He frantically sought for any injury that had felled his brother, gently rolling him on to his back.

 

The movement caused Elrohir to groan and he sat up, gingerly touching the dark bruise to the side of his head.

 

“What happened?  Where is Elladan?” Asked Aragorn.

 

Elrohir looked about in confusion but gradually the memory of the previous night returned.  He raised his eyes to his younger brother, clearly distressed.

 

“He.....he hit me.”  The young elf said, shock and hurt plainly visible in his face.

 

“What?”  Said Aragorn, bewildered.

 

“We.....we were following a.....a light.  I did not think it was wise.”  He grabbed his brother by the sleeve.  “It was evil.....I know it.  Elladan.....”  He closed his eyes tightly trying to come to terms with what his brother had done and drew a deep breath.  “.....Elladan wanted to continue after it, but I believed it was leading us, toying with us.  I.....I begged him to return, to tell Grandmother, and before I knew what he was doing, he.....he hit me.”  Elrohir could not hold back the tears.  He was both desperately worried about his brother and deeply hurt by his uncharacteristic betrayal.

 

Aragorn looked at Haldir.  “It *is* what happened to the Galadhrim.  It must be.  They were enticed, led to Mirkwood somehow.”

 

Haldir nodded.  “We must return and tell lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn what has happened.”

 

“I cannot go with you, I must try and find Elladan.  Take Elrohir with you.....”

 

“I am not going back to Lóthlorien, Estel.  I will come with you.” Said the dark elf, firmly.

 

“But you are hurt.....”

 

“It is nothing serious.  I must find him.”  Aragorn’s heart ached to see how upset his brother was.

 

“Very well.  Haldir, will you go and explain that Elladan is missing as well and that we have gone to find him?”

 

“I will, and I will follow after you.”  Haldir promised.

 

*****

 

Legolas did not sleep that night, but watched both the wood and the direction the strange wraith had gone.  Just before dawn he sensed rather than saw the creature returning, from the chill in the air and the sudden gloom that gripped his heart.  He was prepared this time for its compelling attraction and had taken the precaution of taking a slender rope from his pack and tying it around his waist and securing it to the tree.  He did not want to find himself following the being unwittingly.

 

This time the dark shadow appeared, as silent as before, but there was the noise of something or someone trailing in its path.  Legolas could hear the faint sounds of twigs breaking and the rustle of dead leaves.  He watched with baited breath and found it almost impossible to stifle the gasp that came when he saw who entered the clearing in the creature’s wake.

 

“Elladan!” He whispered in horror.

 

Any hold the wraith may have exerted over Legolas vanished with shock when he saw his friend walk beneath his hiding place.  Elladan walked as if in a dream, with a slight smile on his lips, oblivious to his surroundings.  The prince did not know what to do.  If he called to the dark elf and attracted the attention of the evil creature that was leading him, they could both be caught in its spell, and he did not know yet what manner of being it was, or how ‘willing’ Elladan would be if he tried to free him.  But he could not let his friend disappear without knowing where he was going or what might happen to him.  Whatever it was Legolas was fairly sure it would not be pleasant.  He rapidly untied the safety rope, gathering his pack and weapons, and quietly descended from his temporary flet to stealthily follow Elladan and his strange captor.

 

*****

 

Aragorn and Elrohir followed their brother’s tracks as they led into the dark forest ahead.  The young man was concerned for the elf at his side, and kept stealing sidelong glances at his drawn features.

 

“Do not worry about me, Estel.” Elrohir said with a sigh.

 

Aragorn nodded.  He could not help being concerned for his brother.  He knew how close the twins were and had seen how deeply hurt Elrohir was by Elladan’s attack. 

 

“I know that Ell was not himself when he hit me.  Whatever it was that we followed, drew him like a moth to a flame.  I just do not understand why I was not held in its spell?”

 

“It is as well that you were not, or I would not have found you.”

 

Elrohir winced at the thought.  “Aye, that is true.” They ran on, both sobered by the thought that both the twins may have been lost with no indication of what had happened to them, just like the missing Lóthlorien elves.

 

“That is what must have happened.” Said the elf to himself, finishing his train of thought.

 

“What?”

 

“It explains how the Galadhrim went missing.  They must have been lured away from the fences by the same light.  You should have seen Ell, he could not resist its call, even from the moment he first saw it when we were still in the flet.  I should have refused to go, waited till we had help.” He said bitterly.

 

“You had no idea that this would happen, Ro, and at least now we have a chance that we will be able to follow him.”

 

The two brothers stopped suddenly as they reached the very edge of the dark, forbidding forest.

 

“You are right, little brother, I just wish that we were not following him in *there*.”

 

They stood peering into the dismal gloom for a moment.

 

“Well, come on.” Said the young man resolutely, and taking a deep breath he led the dark elf into the unwelcoming woods.

 

Elrohir paused for a brief second, struck by how his baby brother had grown up so much, so quickly.  Humans were born, grew and aged in the blink of an eye to an immortal such as himself.  He followed Aragorn, smiling sadly to himself.

 

They proceeded cautiously under the thick, untidy branches.  Most of the trees appeared dead, neglected, overgrown.  The forest floor was littered with dry, snapping twigs.  No grass or flowers pushed through the dry leaf mould.  The woods were grey and colourless.  The wood was silent.  No birds sang in this forsaken place.  No animals crept through the sparse undergrowth.  They were each aware of every sound the other made, every footstep, every breath.  Neither spoke, but communicated by gestures.

 

The brothers followed the path that led them to the clearing that Legolas had sat in the night before.  They did not know it, but they were fast catching up with the prince.

 

Aragorn broke the silence.  “Look, someone has been here, and not that long ago, judging by the tracks.”  He followed the trail to the base of a tree and looked up.  To Elrohir’s surprise he suddenly swung up on one of the lower branches and disappeared from view.  A moment later his head appeared from half way up.  “Come up, Ro!” He said smiling.

 

Elrohir swiftly climbed the tree and found Aragorn crouching on the flet that the prince had built. 

 

“This is Legolas’ work, I recognise it, and I would guess that he has left only recently.”

 

“Then we must follow him.  He may have seen what happened to Ell.” Said Elrohir hopefully.

 

The brothers returned to the ground and easily picked up Legolas’ tracks.  Aragorn noticed that they seemed to cross over and overlay Elladan’s and pointed this out to Elrohir.

 

“It looks as though Legolas did see our brother, and followed.” 

 

Elrohir nodded, smiling anxiously.

 

They plunged deeper into the woods.  They travelled on throughout the day hoping that at any moment they would see the two elves that they pursued ahead of them.  Their journey was exhausting.  Apart from the constant vigilance against the dreadful man-sized, poisonous Mirkwood spiders and other foul creatures, the very air itself became even more oppressive as they drew nearer to Dol Guldur, even though it was still many miles away.  Aragorn looked anxiously at Elrohir.  If he could feel the malevolent presence of the tower, then how much more so would his elven brother? 

 

Elrohir moved slowly, his breathing laboured and a look of grim determination on his face.  He saw the young man glance at him for the seventh time in as many yards.

 

“Do not worry about me, Estel.  It is difficult to travel this path, but every step brings me closer to Ell.”

 

Aragorn nodded.  He too desperately wanted to find their brother.  He continued to push through the gloomy, thick undergrowth just ahead, when Elrohir heard what he thought was a grunt from the human and a slight scuffle.

 

“Estel?”  Elrohir quietly slid his sword from its scabbard with a soft hiss.  With some degree of alarm he followed through the gap in the bushes where Aragorn had gone.

 

*****

 

Legolas followed Elladan and his strange captor deeper and deeper into the black woods.  The creature kept up a relentless pace, moving swiftly through the unpleasant terrain.  Elladan did not seem to even notice when rough branches scraped his skin or whipped at his face and body.  His face still bore the unsettling smile that worried the Mirkwood elf.  It was as if he walked in a dream.

 

The strange group did not stop at all, but continued on throughout the whole day, covering many leagues until even Legolas grew weary, though he did not intend to let Elladan out of his sight, even if it meant following him into the depths of Dol Guldur itself.  Then, just at the point where Legolas was beginning to wonder if he would have strength enough to carry on, the dark shadow and its prisoner halted in a dank and dismal glade.  The prince stopped and watched the scene from the shadows of a large twisted tree.

 

Legolas stared as the black wraith passed close by his friend, appearing to breathe or speak into his face and Elladan gave a small whimper and sank to the ground in a faint.  The shadowy creature then seemed to disperse, like smoke from a fire.  Legolas stood anxiously watching the prone elf for some time from his hiding place until he was certain that the evil being was really gone and then cautiously approached Elladan.  He looked nervously about, wary that the wraith might return at any moment, but he felt sure that he would know if it did from the chill that its presence brought with it.

 

Legolas crouched down beside the dark elf.  Elladan’s face was pale, his eyes closed and the prince thought for a dreadful moment that his friend was dead until he saw the steady rise and fall of his chest.

 

“Elladan?” He said, gently touching the elf on the shoulder with one hand.  He was tense and on his guard.  He had no idea what reaction he would receive from his friend if, indeed, he woke at all.

 

Elladan moaned slightly.

 

“Elladan, please, wake my friend.” Said Legolas, shaking him a little harder.

 

Elladan drew a deep breath and his eyes opened slowly.  He smiled at the prince.  “Why Legolas, what are you doing here?”

 

Legolas stared at the elf and his brow furrowed in confusion.  “Elladan?  What do you mean?”

 

“I did not expect to see you here.  I thought you were still in Mirkwood.”

 

The prince was becoming most alarmed.  Elladan did not seem to realise where he was, or to remember all that had happened.

 

“Why, where ‘are’ we, Elladan?” He asked carefully.

 

Elladan laughed, shaking his head.  “A strange question my friend!  Rivendell of course!”

 

“And what were you doing?”  Legolas was growing increasingly frightened of the strange conversation.

 

“I have been walking in the woods, they are so beautiful are they not?......Look, is something wrong, Legolas?  Are you hurt or ill?  Should I fetch Father?” Said Elladan a look of genuine concern on his face.

 

The prince sighed and clutched at his friend’s shoulder.  “No, I am fine.  Elladan, we must leave this place.” He said, looking round anxiously.  A niggling feeling of unease had begun to creep into his mind.

 

“But why?” Said the dark elf, puzzled.

 

“I cannot tell you here, Elladan.  Come with me and I will explain everything.”  Legolas was beginning to feel desperate.  The niggling feeling was growing rapidly into a most definite feeling of alarm.

 

“Is something wrong with Elrohir?  Estel?” Said Elladan, rising to his feet.

 

“No, but we need to go back, now.”  The prince said urgently, his alarm escalating into full-fledged terror.

 

“Wha.....?” Began Elladan, as Legolas grabbed him and shoved him hard towards the heavy undergrowth behind them.

 

“Please, Elladan! Quickly!” Hissed the prince, frantically looking over his shoulder and trying to peer into the gloom beyond.  He could not afford to be caught by the wraith and would not let his friend be held in thrall by it any longer.

 

They plunged blindly through the dense foliage and Legolas grabbed Elladan and broke into a run.  It was not a particularly graceful exit from the glade, but cold terror overtook the prince and he could feel the presence of the returning wraith like icy fingers down his spine.  As the feeling grew stronger he could feel Elladan resisting him, pulling back.

 

“I think we should wait, Legolas.  Why are you in such a hurry?” 

 

Legolas ignored the other elf and carried on with his desperate escape, tugging Elladan behind him.

 

“This is some sort of trick.  Has Elrohir put you up to this?” Suddenly Elladan pulled his arm free of the prince’s grasp and made to turn back.

 

“No!” Cried the Mirkwood elf, lunging after him.  He caught him, knocking Elladan to the ground.  Elladan struggled fiercely, his expression furious.

 

Legolas was losing the battle in keeping Elladan by his side, his friend’s desire to return to the wraith was so strong.  Legolas looked over the other elf’s head as he wriggled beneath him and saw to his horror a darker shadow forming against the black depths of the trees beyond.  The wraith was returning for its victim.

 

“I am sorry, Elladan.” He said, and unwittingly copying the actions of the elf days before, he struck him hard on the head, rendering him unconscious.  He swiftly scooped him up in his arms, threw him over his shoulder and ran as fast as he could, anywhere to get away from the fell creature following them.

 

He struggled through the woods for some way until he felt the evil presence of the dark wraith lessen and fade.  Whether it was because the creature had given up or, as Legolas thought uncomfortably, that it was confident that its victim would return to it as soon as Elladan was conscious, the prince did not care.  He paused to rest, gently lowering Elladan to the ground and leaning over and grabbing at his knees, steadying his breath.

 

He knelt down and examined the unconscious elf.  A slight bruise had appeared where Legolas had struck him and the prince winced at the sight.  He had hated to hurt his friend, but had no other option. 

 

“I just know that later you will think of some way to get your own back, cousin.” He muttered to himself as he pondered what to do next.

 

Now that he had Elladan in his care, he could not carry on towards Dol Guldur, yet he did not want to give up his quest to reunite Dúwen with her husband and he was fairly sure that Rildur and his companions had been taken or lured there in a similar way to that of the Rivendell elf.  He had seen how desperate Elladan was to follow the shadow towards the dark tower and did not dare allow his friend to get close to the wraith again.

 

The only option was to return to Lóthlorien and secure Elladan within its borders.  Lady Galadriel would be able to help once she knew the nature of the compulsion that held him  and then Legolas would return to find Rildur and the other missing elves.  The delay would have to be managed, it could not be helped.

 

Elladan mumbled and rolled over.  He pushed himself up on his arms and gingerly reached up one hand to touch the bruise on his head.  He blearily blinked his eyes and then focused a glare on the prince.

 

“You hit me!”  He said indignantly.

 

“Yes, I am sorry, Elladan.  Please, let me explain.....” Legolas said warily as Elladan began to get up.  The dark elf looked very angry and the prince was a little nervous, though not at all surprised, at his friend’s reaction to the assault.

 

Legolas stood with his arms by his side and his palms open, a gesture of apology and openness, wanting Elladan to trust him again.

 

Elladan’s anger grew less but his expression showed hurt and confusion.  “I don’t understand.” He said plaintively.

 

“We had to leave, you would not come.”

 

“Leave where?  What is wrong?” Asked the bewildered elf.

 

Legolas did not know how much to tell Elladan.  If he believed that he was in Rivendell and suddenly found out he was in southern Mirkwood and that he had been held in thrall to a mysterious dark wraith, how would he react?  Would his mind cope with the shock?  Legolas decided that it was better to be a lot closer to Lady Galadriel and her help before he told him the truth.

 

“I do not know, but there is danger here, your father wants us to return home as soon as possible.  Elrohir and Estel are waiting.” The prince lied, hoping that his explanation was enough.

 

Elladan sighed and frowned.  “Very well, but you did not need to hit me.” He said grumpily.

 

“I know, I am sorry.”  Said Legolas, offering his hand in friendship.

 

Elladan took it and shook it slightly grudgingly, but smiled.  “I will get my own back you know.” 

 

“I know.” Said Legolas with an anxious grin.

 

They set off through the woods, back the way they had come, towards Lóthlorien.  Legolas watched how Elladan still seemed not to notice the dark and dismal gloom of the forest, though occasionally now he would give a puzzled frown and shake his head as he looked at a tree or heard the scuttling of a spider in the branches above.  

 

They had not gone far when Legolas froze at a sound ahead.  He motioned for Elladan to stop and then pointed up into the tree beside them.  Elladan nodded silently and easily swung up into the branches while Legolas moved to hide behind the gnarled trunk.

 

A slightly travel worn man broke through the bushes in front of the prince, who gave an amused grin and as soon as the figure passed by, reached out and grabbed him around the neck with a strong arm.  The man struggled, pulling at the elf’s arm, but could not free himself.

 

“You should be more careful, Ranger.” whispered the elf into the man’s ear.

 

“Legolas!” Yelped Aragorn.

 

The elf chuckled, releasing his friend.

 

“Legolas, you have no idea how glad I am to see you!” Said the young man.  “We have been following you for days.”

 

“We?”

 

“Elrohir and I.....well, Elladan was with us also, but he has been taken.” Said the human sadly.  “We have been following both your tracks.  Have you seen him?”

 

Legolas nodded, placing a finger across his lips and then pointing up into the tree.  Aragorn frowned, puzzled.

 

“Elladan is here, safe, but he remembers nothing.  He believes himself to be in Rivendell” whispered Legolas urgently, so softly that only Aragorn would hear.

 

Just then the two friends heard the hiss of a sword being drawn from within the undergrowth.

 

“Ro!” Called Aragorn, “come out, do not worry, it is Legolas, we have found him.”

 

Elrohir pushed through into the small clearing, sheathing his blade as he did so.  “This is well met.” He said gladly, though his eyes still held worry for his twin’s disappearance.

 

“Our brother is safe, but not himself.” Whispered Aragorn hastily, reassuring Elrohir and nodding up towards the branches overhead.  “Legolas found him.”

 

“Thank the Valar!” Said Elrohir, closing his eyes in relief.  “But why is he ‘not himself’?” He asked as he realised what the young man had said.

 

Before Legolas had a chance to explain all that had happened, Elladan lightly dropped down to the ground in front of the prince.  He had seen his brothers’ arrival and stepped forward happily to greet them.

 

“Legolas said that you were waiting for me!  Shall we go home together now?  Ada will be wondering where we’ve got to.”  He said cheerfully.

 

Legolas shook his head and gesticulated behind Elladan, trying to tell his friends to go along with whatever the elf said.  Both Aragorn and Elrohir understood at once and fixed casual expressions on their faces.

 

“Yes, that’s a good idea, Ell, we don’t want to keep Ada waiting.” Said Aragorn, putting an arm around his brother and leading him ahead along the forest path, thus allowing Legolas to explain what had happened to Elrohir.

 

Legolas lost no time in passing on all that he knew to the anxious twin running by his side.  Elrohir trembled at his description of the dark wraith.  He had recognised it as evil from the start, bitterly regretting his inaction in stopping Elladan from following it and was desperately grateful to the prince for rescuing his twin from its clutches.

 

“He is not safe yet though, Ro.  When it drew near he began to resist all my efforts to lead him out of danger.  I am afraid that I had to render him unconscious and carry him until we were far enough away from the shadow.”

 

“And how did you do that?” Asked Elrohir with a slight smile.

 

Legolas winced.  “ I.....I hit him.  He was not pleased when he came round.”

 

A slight cloud crossed the darker elf’s features, and Legolas thought that his friend was angry with what he had done.

 

“I am sorry, Ro, I couldn’t think of anything else to do.”  He confessed.

 

“I am not cross, Legolas, do not be upset.  You did the best thing.  It just reminded me that Elladan hit *me* when he fought to get to the wraith, it had such a hold on him.”

 

The four companions travelled quickly onwards.  Legolas did not want to turn back towards Dol Guldur just yet until he was certain that Elladan was safe and secure.

 

Elrohir and Aragorn watched their brother nervously.  He strolled along cheerfully as if he had no cares at all, and was merely out for a pleasant walk in the woods near his home.  As Legolas had noticed though, just now and then a fleeting shadow passed over his face and he gave a puzzled frown.

 

After several such instances, Aragorn gently touched his foster brother.  “Is something wrong, Ell?”

 

“ Why no....not really.” Said the elf with a frown.

 

“ You seem unsure, worried about something?”

 

Elladan looked up at the trees for a moment and sighed.

 

“It’s just.....some of these trees.....they do not look quite.....right.”

 

Elrohir looked up at the black misshapen branches overgrown with thick grey moss and choked with dark ivy.  He smiled grimly.  “You are right brother.  Why do you think it is so?”

 

“I do not know, but I think we should tell Ada as soon as possible.”

 

“Agreed.” Said Elrohir, looking at Aragorn and nodding.  Their brother’s behaviour was most odd, but if he was beginning to see the true nature of his surroundings, then there was hope.

 

By now it was nightfall and although they were in a hurry to reach Lóthlorien they could not risk travelling through the woods in the dark.

 

Legolas and Aragorn gathered wood and built a suitable flet for the four of them to take refuge in, persuading a reluctant Elladan that ‘it would be fun’ to stop for the night in the woods ‘around Rivendell’ as the bewildered elf could not see the point when they were ‘so close to home’.

 

They settled down and Elrohir took first watch.  Late into the night Elladan stirred restlessly in his sleep.  His quiet moans woke Legolas and he came to stand beside Elrohir.

 

The two elves looked out into the thick darkness.  A low, chilling mist gathered around the base of their tree, hugging the ground as if it were too heavy to rise.  Legolas tensed, all his senses alert.  He recognised the feeling of unease that crept into his mind, making his skin crawl.

 

“Evil approaches.  We must make Elladan secure, and I do not trust myself not to follow it.”  He said anxiously unwinding the rope from his pack.

 

“What must we do?” Asked Elrohir as he shook Aragorn gently.  The man woke, instantly alert.

 

“Bind Elladan.  He will not like it, but the creature’s pull is too strong.  We must keep him quiet too.  We should tie ourselves together and also to the tree.  When I first saw the wraith I found that I was almost on the ground by the time it had passed and did not even know I was trying to follow until it was almost too late.”

 

“But must I?  I did not feel it’s pull before.” Said Elrohir, puzzled.

 

“I know, I do not understand why that was not the case, but we cannot take that risk.”

 

“We must keep Ell quiet.” Said Legolas, and reluctantly tore off a strip from his cloak, forming a makeshift gag.  “Hold him still, Estel, Ro.”

 

Elrohir and Aragorn approached their sleeping brother hesitantly, but both trusted that the prince knew what he was doing.

 

“Ready?” Whispered Legolas.

 

Aragorn and Elrohir nodded.

 

With a sudden move the two brothers grabbed Elladan and Legolas hastily thrust the gag into his mouth, tying it swiftly around his head and immediately wrapped the end of the rope around the struggling, furious elf’s arms.  Then the prince quickly wound the remaining length around all three of them, securing it to a strong branch.  Elladan glared ferociously at his companions.

 

“We are sorry, Ell, truly we are, but we must do this.” Said Elrohir, pain in his eyes at the sight of his confused and bewildered twin.  He remembered how betrayed and hurt he had felt when Elladan hit him.

 

Elladan moaned and thrashed against his bonds in panic.  His expression becoming more and more distressed as Legolas felt the growing terror of the shadow’s approach.

 

Though both could sense that something wicked neared, neither Aragorn nor Elrohir seemed to be drawn to it in the same way as Elladan obviously was, and Legolas did not feel it’s pull as strongly as he had before, although it still sent hateful waves of gloom into his mind. 

 

“Give up.  It is hopeless.  All is lost.  Do not resist.”

 

The menace filled his mind until he felt utter despair.

 

Legolas, Aragorn and Elrohir tensed as Elladan became so distressed that he began to fight frantically against his gag and his restraints, so much so that the cloth and the rope rubbed and chafed at his flesh until it began to bleed.

 

“We cannot let him continue like this!” Said Elrohir desperately.  “He is hurting himself!” His eyes filled with tears on seeing the blind terror on his twin’s face.  “Please, Ell, please, it will be all right!” He tried to soothe his frantic brother, but Elladan was beyond reach, the call of the wraith outweighing all sense.

 

Aragorn, who was tied nearest to Elladan, gritted his teeth and swallowed.  He made a fist and looked at Elrohir, begging for permission and forgiveness.  Elrohir nodded and the young man hit Elladan with a sharp blow, and he fell senseless once more.

 

“Thank you, Estel.  You did the right thing.” Said Elrohir, comforting his guilty brother.

 

The conscious elves and human listened to the approaching sounds.  Legolas was trembling violently by now, his eyes wide and alert, a cold sweat beaded on his brow.    He was close to collapse when the wraith finally appeared on the path beneath their platform.  The onslaught of sheer horror on his senses was almost too much to bear.  Aragorn watched his friend anxiously.  The shadow passed slowly by and the three friends listened to the approach of many feet following.  Slowly visible, out of the mist, came a dozen or so woodland elves, ethereal and grey in the gloom.

 

Legolas’ eyes widened even further.  He pushed his fist into his mouth, biting it hard to stop himself from crying out.  He recognised several of the beings enthralled by the shadow’s mysterious power, including Celebithil, one of his father’s warriors, an elf he had known since childhood.

 

All passed beneath, lost to their dismal surroundings, unable to resist the lure of their captor.

 

It seemed that the prince did not feel the pull in the same way that he had when he first encountered the wraith.  Instead of attraction it produced a feeling of utter hopelessness which he had to fight.

 

Aragorn realised to his horror that Legolas had begun to untie the rope holding them to the tree.

 

“Wait! Legolas!  What are you doing?” The man hissed.

 

The elf froze, his back to his friend.  “I must follow them, Estel.  I have to see where they are going, I have to try and help.”

 

“No! You cannot, it is madness!” Cried Elrohir.

 

Legolas turned a worried face to his friends and sighed heavily.

 

“Yes it is madness.  I know I said in my note when I left Rivendell that it was folly, and I have asked myself why I have come here many, many times.  But I promised Dúwen I would find Rildur, and now there are Mirkwood elves, my friends, who are being led to their doom.  I cannot watch it happen.” Legolas pleaded desperately.  “Please, take Elladan back.  I will follow alone.  I do not ask, nay, I do not wish you to come with me.” He said firmly.

 

Aragorn untied his waist.  “If you go, you do *not* go by yourself.  I will come.”

 

“No.....”

 

“You cannot argue Legolas.  I will, even if I have to follow you secretly every step of the way.  You know this and you may as well accept it.” Said Aragorn stubbornly.

 

“ I would come with you also, “said Elrohir, “but I must take Elladan back.  I know how to take care of him now.  Go, both of you before you lose the trail.”

 

Legolas hesitated for a moment, then gave a wry smile.

 

“All right.  I know when I am beaten.  In truth?  I will be glad of your assistance my friend.”

 

“Good.” Said Aragorn.  “Then let us be off!” And the two friends quickly climbed down from the flet and disappeared into the misty gloom of the forest leaving Elladan in Elrohir’s care.

 

The elf watched his foster brother and friend leave with a prayer for their safety in his heart, then he tenderly turned to his twin.

 

“Oh, Ell.  What is to become of you?” He said sadly.  He gently removed the bonds and gag, took the edge of his cloak and moistened it with a little water from a bottle in his pack and carefully wiped the cuts and abrasions from his brother’s self-inflicted wounds.  He sat in vigil over the elf for the rest of that night. 

 

*****

 

As a grey and dismal dawn crept over the forest, Elladan began to stir fitfully and then woke with a gasp.

 

Elrohir was by his side instantly, as he saw his brother’s terrified expression.  “Ell, it’s all right.  Don’t panic, I’m here.  You’re safe.” He murmured soothingly.

 

“Where is ‘here’?” Wailed the frightened elf, looking round at the sombre woods.  “How did I get here?  What happened?”

 

Obviously his delusion that he was in Rivendell had vanished with the night.  He was now confused and scared.

 

“Estel?  He was here.....wasn’t he?  He.....hit me?  But he can’t have done.....could he?  Am I going mad, Ro?”

 

He clutched at his twin, sobbing violently.

 

“Oh, Ell.  No you are not mad, I promise, just confused and bewildered.  Trust me, I will explain” Elrohir said, holding Elladan tightly to his chest.  “What do you remember?”

 

Elladan steadied his breathing and gained some control over his panic.  He swallowed.  “I.....I remember?.....Grandmother?”  He looked puzzled.  “Was she in Rivendell?  No, wait, we were in Lóthlorien.....yes, with Estel.  Then he *was* here.....Ro?”

 

“Yes, we were all following Legolas.”

 

“Legolas!  Yes, I remember, and there were some missing Galadhrim.....”  His eyes flew open wide and he gave a gasp.  “There was a light, across the wild lands.  We.....we followed it, I.....I don’t remember!”

 

“Hush, hush, Ell.  Be still, all is well.” Said Elrohir, rocking his brother gently in his arms.

 

As Elladan quietened his spirit and relaxed in his brother’s embrace, Elrohir gently told him all that had happened.

 

It was hard news to take and Elladan shuddered when he realised how close he had come to being taken and imprisoned in Dol Guldur.

 

“If it had not been for Legolas.....ai! Elrohir, I would have been lost!”

 

“But you were not.  Come, we must return to Lóthlorien as soon as possible and tell Grandmother and Grandfather of all that has happened.  They can send help.  Our little brother and Legolas will need it if they have any hope of surviving this.” He said grimly and the two brothers set off at once towards the Golden Wood.

 

*****

 

Legolas and Aragorn followed the Mirkwood elves from a safe distance for many leagues.  The prince had not experienced any of the desperate attraction that he had the first time he saw the dark wraith.  Instead, a feeling of hopelessness tore at his heart, numbing his senses.

 

They were very near to Dol Guldur now and Legolas also had to combat the additional intense oppression that emanated from the evil tower.  He closed his eyes for a moment against the pain and depression.  Aragorn reached for his friend, gripping his shoulder.

 

“Legolas? Are you all right?”

 

The elf dragged his eyes open and shook his head to dispel the gloom.  He drew a ragged breath.  “No, but I will be in a moment.  It is hard, Estel.”

 

“I know that you will not consider turning back.....unfortunately!” Said the young man, resigned to their fate.  “Why do we always end up in these dire situations!  Why can’t we have a nice, quiet adventure in Hobbiton or such place!  Nothing ever happens there!”

 

“Hobbiton?” Queried Legolas with a slight frown.

 

“In the Shire.  Westfarthing.  Hobbits.....Periain?”

 

“Aah, yes.  I have not been that far west.  Many of my people have passed through that land on the way to the Grey Havens though.” Said the prince, smiling slightly and thinking of more beautiful places than the dank wood he found himself in.  It cheered his spirit a little and gave him a bit more strength to resist the darkness.

 

The companions moved more cautiously now.  The silvan elves ahead had stopped and stood in a  disordered huddle, staring bleakly around themselves.  They seemed to be waiting for something to happen, or to arrive.

 

Aragorn hissed quietly, drawing Legolas’ attention and pointed at a thick fog that was rolling in from their right.  They both stiffened in anticipation of what might be coming.  As they had expected, a second black, smoky figure approached with several bewildered Galadhrim trailing in its wake.  The two groups merged as one and the two wraiths began to lead them all forward again towards Dol Guldur.

 

The elf prince and the young man closed the gap a little between them and the captured elves.  Aragorn threw a worried glance at Legolas, who had a stubborn and determined look on his face.

 

“Legolas?  Please tell me you are not thinking what I think you are thinking?”

 

The elf gave an awkward glance towards his friend, and then turned his eyes resolutely on the scene before them.

 

“No.  You are not going with them.” Said Aragorn firmly.

 

“Estel...”

 

“No!  You have no idea what is going on!  No idea of how easy it will be to get out again!  No!  I will not let you.”

 

Legolas raised a bemused eyebrow.  “And how do you propose to do that, human?”  He said with a slight smirk.  His smile faded when he saw the frustration and anxiety behind Aragorn’s eyes. 

 

“I must go, Estel.  If I mingle with them and pretend to be oblivious to what is happening, I will not be spotted.  I may be able to find Rildur and rescue him and many others.  I cannot simply abandon them to their fate.  By the time we have returned to Lóthlorien and brought back a rescue party, it will probably be too late for these elves.”  He whispered urgently, pleading with the young man.

 

“Then I will go with you.” Said Aragorn bluntly.

 

“You cannot!”

 

“Why not?!”

 

“You do not *look* elvish!”

 

“I have lived amongst elves all my life, I am sure I can manage.” Aragorn said indignantly.

 

Legolas could not suppress a snort of amusement.  “Your shoulders are too broad, your voice is too deep.  You are far too ‘scruffy’ and you smell like a human!”

 

“What is wrong with the way I smell?” Said Aragorn getting increasingly more irritable by the minute.

 

Legolas laughed at his friend’s embarrassment.  “Nothing, it is just not an ‘elvish’ smell!”

 

“Well, be that as it may, I *am* coming with you.  I will pull my cloak over my head and keep at the back.  I will walk as quietly as possible and not speak.  I will not argue, Legolas.”  Aragorn said, a steely look in his grey eyes.

 

Legolas sighed.  “Then let us go.  We are both mad it seems.  I wish you would not come, but I am also glad that you will.”

 

Aragorn smiled.  “Typical elf! Speaking as clearly as a wizard!” He ducked quickly as the prince flicked a hand towards his head.  “Missed!” He taunted, and they both chuckled, relieving the tension of their reckless decision to enter the heart of Dol Guldur together.

 

Aragorn did as he had suggested, pulling his hooded cloak far forward of his face to hide his human ears and the light beard he had on his face.  In fact, he was quite good at moving quietly and reasonably gracefully through the undergrowth.  Growing up among elves had given him some advantages.  He would not pass close inspection, but the elves the two friends were hoping to mingle with were not aware of their surroundings at all, and if they kept as far back as possible from the wraiths, they might, just might, get away with their daring plan.

 

They both made their features as empty of expression as possible, and tried not to look wildly about them, moving their eyes too much or too ‘knowingly’.   They did not walk quickly, but copied the spellbound elves lacklustre progress towards the great woodland fortress of Dol Guldur, fighting the fear that gripped their hearts.

 

*****

 

The broken, black fingers of Dol Guldur loomed above them menacingly.  The area immediately around the structure was rocky and barren.  Even the bitter trees of southern Mirkwood would not grow there.  The group of elves that Legolas and Aragorn had followed had been joined by several other small parties, each led by a dark wraith, and there were now fifty or so bewitched Eldar making their way onto the grim fortress.

 

The friends had not spoken for some time, only communicating by subtle nods and gestures, but both could tell that the other was apprehensive about entering the evil castle.  As they passed through the great dark mouth of the entrance both gave a visible shudder.  The elves and single human were herded through dank and dismal stone passages with many branches off to either side, from which could be heard unhappy wails and screams.  The corridor sloped suddenly downwards and the air grew hot and thick with choking dust and acrid smoke.

 

Aragorn was really not happy about this situation.  In fact he had come to the conclusion that he must have lost his mind some time ago, or that he was in some sort of unpleasant nightmare and that he would wake up soon.  He threw increasingly anxious glances at his friend.  Legolas’ eyes were fixed firmly ahead and every part of his body was tense and on guard. 

 

The walls at the end of the passageway glowed with an orange, flickering light, and as they rounded a corner they could see into a great cavern in the depths of Dol Guldur.  A great fire pit lay in the centre of the chamber, belching smoke and flame.  All around the walls of the cave were clustered groups of elves, guarded by creatures that looked like orcs.  Just beyond the firepit stood a creature shrouded in black that struck terror even into the brave hearts of Aragorn and Legolas.  A Nazgûl.  A Ringwraith and servant of the dark Lord Sauron.

 

The dark being was inspecting the groups of elves.  Legolas watched as some were selected and ushered with their accompanying wraiths deeper into the cave, while others were led away along further corridors.  A few were pulled to one side and waited together in a pitiful group, obviously more aware of what was happening to them.  They were visibly distressed and frightened, though they stood boldly in front of the Nazgûl when he approached.

 

The Ringwraith turned its hooded and hidden head towards the trembling elves and a noise like a low hiss came from somewhere beneath its cowl.  The guards around the group of Eldar closed in and began to push and shove them towards the great fire.  Aragorn heard a strangled gasp from his side and turned to see Legolas sway slightly.  He took the risk of being noticed and grabbed his friend to steady him.

 

“What is it?” He whispered urgently.

 

Legolas shook his head, unable to speak.  His eyes were captured by the sight in front of him and he could not tear them away though he knew what was going to happen.

 

Aragorn turned back, following the prince’s gaze and stared at the unfolding scene.  He suddenly realised what the Nazgûl had been doing.  He had been selecting elves for his wicked purposes, and this small group in front of them were the rejects, the expendable ones for one reason or another.  Aragorn’s grip on Legolas tightened and he could feel the prince shaking violently under his hands.  The two friends watched in horror and despair as the now panicking elves were brutally herded and driven closer and closer to the edge of the great, smouldering pit and then cast down into the flames.  Their agonised screams filled the dreadful chamber.

 

Aragorn though he was going to be sick.  Legolas could barely stand.

 

“We have to get out of here.” Murmured Aragorn quietly under his breath.  Legolas nodded mutely.  Taking advantage of the dark shadows at the back of the cavern, Aragorn dragged his shocked friend along a nearby empty corridor.  It twisted and turned and the man followed it blindly, wanting to put as much distance as possible between them both and the spectacle they had just witnessed.  He also did not want to get found by any inhabitants of the castle and each time he passed a door he tried it to see if they could find a place to hide for a moment while they took stock of their situation and what had just happened.

 

After testing three locked doors, Aragorn got lucky and the fourth gave under his hand.  He quickly tugged the prince into what appeared to be a small store room and closed the door behind them.  He was only just in time as he heard the sound of feet running past their chamber.  He was suddenly aware of Legolas’ ragged breathing and turned to his friend in concern.  There was just enough light from a crack in the door to see the pale, trembling elf.

 

“Legolas, I am so sorry.”  The man pulled his friend into his arms.  He too had been shaken terribly by seeing the brutal, tragic loss of the immortal lives. 

 

“They did not stand a chance.” Whispered the elf with a catch in his voice, and Aragorn could see glistening trails of tears on the prince’s cheeks.

 

“We must try to find out why the elves are being brought here.  What would the Nazgûl want with so many?” Aragorn said when his friend had composed himself a little later.

 

“I know why they are here.” Said the prince bleakly.

 

Aragorn frowned.  He did not think they had seen anything yet to give them any clues as to the Ringwraith’s purpose.  “Why?  Did you see something that I did not?”

 

“No, you saw it too, but you did not know it for what it was.”  Legolas sighed heavily.

 

“The guards.  The ones who drove.....”  The elf closed his eyes and swallowed against the nausea that rose as he remembered the sickening sight he had witnessed.  He took a deep breath and opened his eyes again, fixing his stare on the young man.

 

“The guards who carried out the Ringwraith’s orders were elves.”

 

“What!?” Cried the human, shocked beyond belief.  He shook his head.  “No, that cannot be so, they would not do such a thing!  They did not look like elves.” He argued.

 

“Do you know where the orcs came from, Estel?” Said Legolas sadly.

 

“No.....no I do not.” Said Aragorn, suddenly afraid of where this conversation was going.

 

“They too were elves once, long, long ago.  They were captured, corrupted and mutilated by the fallen Ainur, Melkor, for his evil purposes.  It is one of the reasons that they hate the Eldar so, they are for ever reminded of what they have lost.  I must admit, I feared that these elves were being brought here for similar reasons, and now I have seen the guards.....” The prince gave a shudder.

 

“ Is there anything that we can do?” Asked Aragorn, numbly.

 

“ I do not know, but I cannot give up without trying.  I need to find Celebithil, he was amongst those that were taken further into the cavern.  And I need to find Rildur.”

 

“Legolas, we do not know for sure that Rildur is still alive.  And what if he has been.....changed?” Asked Aragorn gently.  He did not want to upset Legolas further, but he was beginning to believe that the best they could hope for was that the two of them would escape with their lives.

 

The prince rested his head back against the cold stone wall.  His mind was a whirl of terrifying images and thoughts and the heavy malevolence of Dol Guldur pressed all around him.  He fought to keep control of his emotions.

 

“The thought has crossed my mind also.  But I cannot return to Dúwen without at least being able to tell her what happened to her love.  I made a promise, Estel.”

 

“I know my friend, but I also know that we are in danger of not returning at all unless we get away as soon as we can.  If we do not, then no one will know what is going on and there will be no hope for any of those trapped here.”

 

Legolas rubbed his hands over his eyes.  He knew that what the man said was right, that probably the most sensible thing was to leave and get help.  A lot of help.  But he had felt every second of the murdered elves’ pain like knives in his heart.

 

“I cannot leave here, Estel, but I do not ask you to stay.  You go, back to Lóthlorien.  Tell everyone.....”

 

“Of course not.  I am staying, you need my help.  What must we do?”

 

“No, Estel.....”

 

“Yes, Legolas.”

 

The Elf smiled, shaking his head. He was actually incredibly grateful for his friend’s support and loyalty.  He did not think he could face this alone.

 

“I am afraid that we must return to the cavern.  We need to see where the elves were led to, the ones that the Nazgûl wanted .”

 

“Why did I know that you would say that.” Said Aragorn with a smile.

 

“Perhaps it is because it is the most insane idea, and I have obviously lost my mind!” Said the elf, grinning a little.

 

“Well, we had better get on with it.  The sooner we do, the sooner we can leave.”

 

“Agreed.” Said the prince and the two of them stood quietly behind the door listening for guards.  When they were certain the way was clear they quietly slipped out of the room and headed back in the direction they had come from earlier.

 

When they returned to the cavern they were relieved to find it empty.  The elves and their guards were all gone and the Ringwraith was no where to be seen.

 

The fire in the massive pit had died down, leaving sickly glowing embers that cast a baleful light over the chamber.

 

“What do you think the wraiths were that led us here, Legolas?”

 

“ At first I thought they themselves were dark lords of some sort, but I think now that they were simply seekers and bringers.  A lure created by the Ringwraiths’ master.”

 

“They disappeared after they led us into this cave.”

 

“Yes, I think they came from and returned to the smoke.”

 

By now the two friends had reached the back of the chamber and found a wide, dark tunnel leading away.

 

They cautiously followed it keeping to one side, following the wall with their hands.  The small amount of light cast by the burning coals in the cavern behind was scarcely enough to see by.

 

Just as the feeble light gave out behind them, a dim, greenish glow replaced it ahead in the passageway.

 

Aragorn had been following Legolas but now moved to walk by his side.  They had drawn their swords and knives as they crossed the cave and now adjusted their hold on their weapons, testing weight and balance and preparing for what they might find.

 

*****

 

Elladan and Elrohir were almost at the edge of Mirkwood when they became aware of the sound of horses’ hooves heading in their direction.  They hastily sought the cover of a large, dense, mutated holly bush, with sharp spines to its leaves and Elrohir was scratched badly as he pushed through. 

 

“Does everything in this forsaken place have to be so unpleasant?” He grumbled, rubbing his wounds.

 

The twins watched as the group of riders appeared on the path and gave sighs of relief.  They were Mirkwood elves from the north of the forest.

 

Elladan pushed out from the prickly foliage and hailed them.  The silvan elves came to a halt, gathering round him and his twin, wary of the brothers.  They were suspicious of anything they found in the woods, especially so far south, and several of the warriors aimed their bows at the twin’s heads.

 

“What are your names and your business?” Said a rather severe elf, the leader of the party.

 

“I am Elladan, son of Lord Elrond of Imladris and this is my brother, Elrohir, but before we tell you our business, will you give us your name?”

 

The elf frowned crossly, but answered none the less.  “  My name is Telepdil, Guard to King Thranduil.  Now, tell me why you are here?”

 

“We were with our foster brother, Estel, and Prince Legolas of Mirkwood, investigating the disappearance of some elves from Lóthlorien.”

 

Telepdil stiffened when he heard Legolas’ name.  “Where is the prince now and why was he with you?  The King believes he is at Imladris still.” The woodland elf narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

 

“That is probably just as well.” Muttered Elrohir.

 

“It is a long story, he once knew one of the missing Galadhrim.” Said Elladan, not wishing to discuss the details with the curious elves.  “But may I ask why you are so far south?  We did not expect to see anyone.”

 

“We are also following missing elves.  An entire hunting party failed to return a few days ago and we have tracked them thus far.  Have you seen them?”

 

Elladan and Elrohir looked at each other hating to be the bringers of bad news. 

 

“We may have.” Said Elrohir.  “ We saw a group of Mirkwood elves.  Prince Legolas recognised several of them and mentioned one by name, Celebithil.  Is he known to you?” 

 

“Yes, his party is the one we search for!  What can you tell us?”  Said Telepdil urgently.

 

“Our brother and the prince followed them, and we are returning to Lóthlorien to bring help.”  Elladan paused and then went on reluctantly.  “I am afraid your friends were being led to Dol Guldur.”

 

“But how? Why would they not fight?  Were they hurt?  Bound?”

 

“They were bewitched by a dark shadow, a wraith of some sort.  They would have been unable to resist it.” Said Elladan sadly. 

 

“How do you know this?” Snapped the silvan elf, not believing that the missing elves would have been overcome so easily.

 

“I too was ensnared in its trap.  I only broke free because your prince found me and stopped me from following it to my doom.” Said Elladan, unconsciously rubbing his wrists where the ropes that he had been bound with earlier had cut into the flesh.

 

“Will you help us reach the Golden Wood?  The sooner we can get word to the Lord and Lady, the sooner we can return with aid.” Pleaded Elrohir.  He could see that the woodland elves were doubtful of his twin’s story and did not want them chasing after their friends recklessly and getting trapped themselves.

 

The Mirkwood elves looked at one another, not certain of what to do.  They desperately wanted to find the missing hunters and now that they knew that their prince was involved in the search and quite possibly headed for Dol Guldur, they did not want to give up their quest.  Also, Mirkwood and Lóthlorien were not on the very best of terms.  However, if something fey and sinister was at work against the Eldar, then the little search party would not stand a chance.  They would indeed benefit from help from the Galadhrim.  Telepdil beckoned his companions closer and they spoke quietly amongst themselves for a few moments.  They parted again, a decision made.

 

“We will come with you to Lóthlorien.”  Telepdil called an elf to his side.   “Thilras?  Would you mount beside your brother, and allow these two elves to ride your horse?”  We will travel faster.”  The slim, slightly darker elf nodded and after gently patting his animal and murmuring an apology in its ear he dismounted and gracefully joined his older brother on his horse.

 

The twins smiled gratefully at the Mirkwood elves and quickly mounted the borrowed creature.  Perhaps all was not lost?  It would take no time at all now to reach their grandparents and return with help for Estel and Legolas.

 

With a sharp cry the Mirkwood elves turned towards the Golden Wood and set off at a fast pace, Elladan and Elrohir’s horse galloping in their midst.

 

*****

 

Legolas carefully eased his way along the passage and rounded the bend, making sure that he remained well within the shadows.  Aragorn moved quietly beside him, his hand gripping his sword tightly. 

 

The sight that greeted them was not quite what they had expected.  The cavern was full of elves, but no guards.  The eldar were mostly sitting or lying about the floor, with just a few standing.  They seemed to be asleep or dazed judging by their unfocused eyes and quiet breathing.  In several places around the sides of the chamber were large, dished stones full of burning coals, the source of the pallid light.  A pale green mist filled the room, with a sickly sweet smell.  Aragorn’s eyes watered and he stifled a cough.

 

Legolas searched the cave, peering through the fog until he found the elf he was looking for.  Celebithil lay on the floor, his back against the wall, staring into the green light of the nearest stone hearth. 

 

The prince went over to crouch by his old friend and gently shake his shoulder.  “Celebithil?  Celebithil, it is I, Legolas.”  The older elf continued to fix his gaze on the glowing embers.

 

“Celebithil, are you sleeping?  Wake.....you must wake up.”  Said Legolas, shaking Celebithil a little harder.

 

The elf murmured something almost inaudible under his breath.  Legolas leant closer to his mouth to catch what he said.  Aragorn watched from the other side of the cave where he had been trying to rouse the other elves.  He saw Legolas straighten and, following the older elf’s gaze, go and stand by the green fire.  The prince leant over the flickering coals and cautiously inhaled the pungent smoke.  He stood there for a moment, frowning and then the man saw his friend sigh and his puzzled expression slowly vanish.

 

“Legolas?  What is it?” Said Aragorn, coming to stand by his friend.  Legolas shook his head slightly, distracted by the green glow.  “Legolas?”  The young man gripped the elf’s arm and tried to pull him away from the fire.  The prince shrugged off his hand easily, and grunted slightly in annoyance.

 

“Legolas, come away, now.” Said Aragorn urgently.  He did not like this at all, his friend was behaving most oddly.

 

“No.....I want to stay..... Celebithil said it is beautiful to watch.....it is, Estel.  You must see it.” Said the elf as if in a dream.

 

Aragorn felt he was in no dream, he was in a nightmare.  His friend was obviously affected by the same thing that had trapped the other elves in the chamber and kept them passive and compliant, but thankfully, he was not.

 

“Legolas, fight it.  It is not real, whatever you see or feel.  Please, my friend.”  But the prince did not seem to hear the young man, or even know that he was there anymore.

 

Aragorn rubbed his hands over his eyes, they were smarting badly from the smoke in the cave, he could not suppress his cough any longer and his breath caught in his throat.  Yet the elves seemed unaffected by the thick atmosphere.  He looked around at the basins of smouldering coals dotted evenly about the room and suddenly his mind cleared and his brain made the connection.  The smoke from the fires was drugged, intoxicating the elves, whereas it merely made him feel a little ill and uncomfortable. 

 

He needed to put the fires out quickly.  That would hopefully release his friend and any others who had not been breathing the fumes for long.  He frantically looked around for some method of dousing the embers.  There was no water but the compacted floor was earthen.  Aragorn took the edge of his sword and desperately scraped away at a patch of slightly less trodden ground until he managed to rake up some thick dust.  He scooped up as much as he could into his hands and quickly threw it over the hearth next to Legolas.  He did the same again, several times until the fire sputtered out. 

 

Once the thin green smoke had cleared from around the prince, Legolas gave a little cough and shook his head as if ridding himself of something and looked around in a slight daze.  “Estel?  What happened?”  He said looking around and frowning.  “I do not remember.....”

 

“It’s all right, you were drugged like these other elves.  No! Don’t inhale it again!” Yelled Aragorn as the prince began to inspect another hearth. Legolas pulled back quickly.  “I need your help.  It’s the smoke, we must put these fires out.” Said Aragorn, scraping more earth from the floor and throwing it over another of the fires.  Legolas nodded, understanding and joined his friend in extinguishing all but one of the piles of glowing coals.  The last they left as without it there would be no light at all in the cavern.  They pulled the elves nearest to it away from its influence to the other side of the chamber, hoping that this would be good enough.

 

By the time they had put out the last fire that they could, a few of the more recent occupants of the cavern, including Celebithil, had begun to return to their senses.

 

“My Lord!” Said Celebithil on seeing the prince. “Wh.....What happened?  Where are we?” He said, completely bewildered.  The last thing he remembered was hunting and a strange fog.....yes, and a.....a shadow that called and enticed.  He groaned and held his head in his hands.

 

“Celebithil, do not worry.  We will get you out of here.” Said Legolas, sounding more hopeful than he felt.  Aragorn came to stand beside him having checked on all those in the gloomy cave.

 

“There are twenty three elves that are pretty much fully awake, like Celebithil here.  Nine more are beginning to come round slowly but there are a further twelve that are still unconscious.  They must have been in here for much longer.” Reported the man.

 

“ We will wait for the nine to fully recover, and then see how well the twelve are before we decide what to do next.  We must just hope that nothing comes to check on them before then.” Said Legolas.

 

“ Agreed.  How many of Celebithil’s party are here, do you know?” 

 

Legolas cast his eye over the group.  “There were seventeen in the hunting party, I counted them as we followed.”  A cloud crossed his features.  “Including Celebithil, there are ten here.  I do not know what happened to the seven, though I think that I saw at least three in the cavern by the firepit, Estel.”  He looked at his friend, sorrow in his eyes.

 

Aragorn nodded sympathetically.  He knew how devastated the prince felt at the tragic and terrible loss of the immortal lives.

 

“Then that leaves four unaccounted for.” 

 

“They must have been with the others that were led away.  We must find them, Estel.” Said the prince firmly.  Aragorn recognised the edge to his friend’s voice.  He knew that there would be no arguing with him and that he would not listen to reason, but he had to try.

 

“Legolas, we have no idea where they could be.  We could be wandering around Dol Guldur for ages before we found them, *if* we did find them, and we run the risk of being caught ourselves.  We should get these elves away to safety and then return with help.”

 

Aragorn knew how the prince’s mind worked so well after many, many adventures together that he was not the slightest bit surprised when the elf shook his head.

 

“I cannot leave, Estel.  As well as the others we followed I need to know what has happened to Rildur.  I cannot return to Dúwen without him, or at least without being able to tell her what happened to her husband.  You go.  Take Celebithil and the rest.  Get them to safety and then, if you can, return with help.”

 

“Legolas, no. It is madness, I.....” Protested Aragorn.

 

“Please, take them my friend.” Said the prince firmly.

 

Aragorn knew he would not be able to change his friend’s mind, he had seen that stubborn expression many times before.  He also knew that it made sense to get as many elves as possible away from this dread place and then fetch help, but he really did not like the idea of leaving Legolas alone.

 

“I *will* be back, I promise.” He said reluctantly.

 

“I am counting on it.” Said Legolas with a grim smile.

 

“Be careful, and please do not take any unnecessary risks.” Pleaded Aragorn.

 

“You are the risk taker, not me, I will be fine.”

 

“Hmm.  It would not take me very long to remember several ‘risks’ that you have ‘not’ taken in the past, my friend.  Would you like me to remind you of them?” Asked Aragorn with a raised eyebrow.

 

“No thank you.  My memory is quite adequate.” Laughed Legolas.  “Now, please, go, before anyone returns.”

 

Aragorn nodded, and after giving Legolas an encouraging grip on his shoulder, he rallied the recovering elves and led them back up the passageway to the great firepit cavern.  The friends were fortunate as all the eldar had regained consciousness by now and Aragorn did not have to leave any behind.  Legolas followed at the rear, until they reached the vast chamber where he acknowledged Aragorn with a brief nod and then disappeared along the side passageway that they had watched the selected elves take earlier.

 

*****

 

The young man did not know how easy it would be to escape the castle and was counting on the fact that the Nazgûl and the other inhabitants of Dol Guldur did not expect that any of the captive elves would be able to break free from their drugged condition.  Fortunately, Celebithil and almost all of his companions were fully alert by now and the few that were still dazed were being helped by the others, so they all moved through the passageways with relative ease. 

 

It was not too difficult finding their way back to the castle’s great entrance by following the obviously broader and more heavily used corridors.  Twice Aragorn heard footsteps nearby and the group braced themselves for discovery, but the sounds of heavy feet passed by a different way.  As they drew near to the exit, the young man motioned for the elves to stay back and beckoned Celebithil to stand by his side.

 

“I do not expect the way to be clear, Celebithil, or the doors to be open.  We had better go ahead.”

 

“Agreed.” Said the elf and closely followed the young man to the entrance to the passageway.

 

They cautiously peered out into the dark entrance hall.  As they had feared, the large doors were firmly closed and guarded.  The young man’s heart sank.  He knew that he would not be able to simply walk out of Dol Guldur unchallenged, but he had hoped it would be a little easier than this.  It would have been far simpler if it had only been himself and Legolas - he had not expected to have to shepherd over forty slightly dazed and fragile elves to safety.

 

There was another difficulty as well.  The twenty or so guards.  Elf-guards.  Although at first glance they appeared to be the same as the orcs, now that Aragorn knew their origins he could see their true heritage more clearly. 

 

They were much more finely built with a residual grace about their bodies that only emphasised the terrible things that had been done to them.  They were now twisted and warped with lasting scars on their once-perfect flesh.  Their hair was chopped roughly and lank, ill-kempt, their once-fair skin was grey and pallid.  Their eyes were hollow and empty. 

Yet the young man could not forget that these sorry creatures before him were once elves.  Elves like Elladan, Elrohir and Legolas.  Elladan could have been captured and changed into such a being.  It sent a chill through his heart to think how close he had come to losing his foster brother, if it had not been for Legolas rescuing him from the shadowy wraith he might never have seen him again.

 

Aragorn sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes.  Celebithil saw the gesture and thought that the man despaired.

 

“There are only a few guards, and many of us.  We have no weapons but we far outnumber them.  We can attack and take them completely by surprise.”  The elf said eagerly.

 

Aragorn shook his head.  “We cannot kill them, Celebithil.” 

 

Celebithil snorted, thinking the human faint-hearted.  “They are not too powerful for us!  We can easily defeat them.”

 

“No, we must not.  ‘You’ must not, unless you wish to have a kin-slaying on your hands.  They are elves, Celebithil.....I am sorry.”  Aragorn watched in sympathy as he saw the gradual realisation and horror cross the elf’s face.  Celebithil staggered back and leant against the passage wall.  He looked at the man shakily.

 

“Then.....that is why we were brought here?” He said in a hoarse whisper.  Aragorn nodded. 

“Can they be saved?”

 

“I do not know.  Perhaps if they were taken to Lord Elrond or the Lady Galadriel, or even one of the Istari such as Mithrandir.....” Aragorn gave a shrug.  “All I do know is that I do not wish to kill them.”

 

“Then we must try to disable them only.  I will tell our friends.” Said the elf grimly and returned to the elves who waited in the shadows while Aragorn watched the doors.

 

Moments later the shocked elves and Celebithil joined the young man ready to try and break out of the castle.  It was decided that they would split into three groups, two, led by Aragorn and Celebithil to tackle the guards on each side of the gates, and one to concentrate on opening them.  When Aragorn was certain that they were all ready he gave the signal and with a loud cry they rushed forward.

 

The score of elf-guards were taken completely by surprise, and several were knocked unconscious fairly swiftly before they knew what was happening but once they rallied they began to fight back in earnest, pushing the young man and the escaping elves away from the gates.  The guards cut and slashed with their crude knives and axes, while the elves were hampered by their lack of swords and bows.  Also none of them wished to kill a fellow elf, however much they were changed.  After several minutes of heated fighting, eight of Celebithil’s group and six of Aragorn’s were beaten and fell stunned to the floor, and nearly all of the third group making for the doors were caught by the guards, but none as yet were killed. 

 

Aragorn began to despair as he wielded his solitary sword in the battle, trying frantically to wound and disarm but not slaughter.  In spite of their greater numbers, the elves were severely hindered by their unwillingness to take the lives of the guards and the young man could see that the fight was not going at all well.

 

Suddenly, next to him, one of the elf-guards thrust his knife deep between the ribs of a dark, Mirkwood elf.  Shock and disbelief filled the elf’s eyes for a moment before they glazed and the being collapsed on the ground, blood spreading rapidly across his tunic.  He gave a quiet gasp and in a brief moment his immortal life was over.  A sudden dramatic silence filled the great entrance hall.  All fighting ceased.

 

The guard who had killed the elf froze, and looked down at his bloody weapon, with a bewildered and horrified expression.  He dropped it out of his shaking fingers and the sound of the metal clattering against the stone echoed round the silent chamber.  

 

“What.....What have I done?  How.....?” He said in a croaking, harsh voice.  Shocked elves and confused guards looked at the trembling, frightened figure. 

 

Celebithil stepped forwards and tentatively reached out to the crestfallen guard.  “What do you remember, my friend?”

 

The guard turned his dismayed eyes towards the elf.  “I remember.....nothing.  I remember walking through woods.....a shadow.....nothing.”  He paused and swallowed, his gaze returning to the dead elf on the floor at his feet. 

 

“What have I done?” He keened softly, tears beginning to run down his scarred face, his twisted shoulders slumped forwards.

 

By now all the remaining guards had dropped their weapons and stood confused and dismayed around the hall.  The brutal slaying of elf by elf had broken through their evil enchantment. Aragorn could not understand it.  Why did the death of one elf by a kinsman’s hand release the guards here, yet earlier when he and Legolas watched the unfortunate elves herded to their deaths in the flames, none of the guards in the great firepit chamber had been affected?  Then he remembered the presence of the Nazgûl.  Its proximity must have kept the guards under its control.

 

Celebithil put his hands gently on the distraught guard’s shoulders and pulled him into a forgiving embrace, his brow furrowed in sorrow.  How could he tell the guard what he had become?  What he had done? 

 

Aragorn was tense and worried.  The noise of their fight and change in the guard elves condition would not go unnoticed.  They needed to get out, now.  He quickly shepherded them all together and took the still sobbing elf-guard from Celebithil’s arms. 

 

“Tell me, what is your name?” Aragorn asked.

 

The elf frowned and passed a hand over his brow.  He desperately tried to recall who he was.  Did he have a name?  What was it?  His forehead cleared as he remembered.

 

“It is Lómdur.” He said sorrowfully.  He felt that he had brought great shame on his name and could not hold his head up.

 

“Lómdur, can you open the doors?” Aragorn asked gently.  The guard nodded and, pulling himself together as best as he could, he walked over to the doors.  After frowning a little with the effort to remember the words he muttered under his breath.  The great gates swung open and the elves, guards and Aragorn fled into the grey light of dawn.  They ran quickly into the dark woods surrounding Dol Guldur as the sound of horns and other more unpleasant noises sounded the alarm throughout the black towers.  Their only hope was to get away as fast as possible.  With no weapons apart from Aragorn’s sword they did not stand a chance against a multitude of orcs and unchanged elf-guards that were sure to follow. 

 

As Aragorn left Dol Guldur his only thought was for Legolas, still somewhere inside.

 

***** 

 

Legolas followed the passageway from the firepit cavern for some time.  It led steadily higher and back into the main part of the castle.  He had not gone far when he heard the alarm sound throughout the fortress and guessed that Aragorn and the elves were trying to leave.  He paused for a moment, worried for his friend.  He had not liked separating from him, but it could not be helped, they both had jobs to do. 

 

The Prince pushed onwards cautiously.  With the alarm came the sounds of many feet rapidly approaching.  He could feel the vibrations in the floor and walls of the corridor he was in.  He hissed through his teeth, they were definitely coming his way.  He had passed a heavy door a moment ago, and quickly turned and made his way back to it, praying that it would be open and also that the room behind it was unoccupied.

 

He reached the door and stealthily turned the handle.  It would not do to attract attention to himself if there were occupants of the chamber behind the door.  He let out a relieved sigh when the handle gave under his fingers and he glimpsed darkness beyond.  He slipped inside barely seconds before a host of orcs and elf-guards rounded the corner of the passageway and rumbled past.  If they had known to look they would have seen the heavy door to Legolas’ hideaway close swiftly.

 

Legolas paused behind the door, listening carefully and bringing his breath and his rapid heartbeat under his control again.  That had been too close for comfort.  After he had stood there for a few minutes, he became aware of a faint light behind him and a soft noise that he could not quite place.  He tensed, waiting for discovery and capture, turning his head very slowly and trying to peer into the gloomy interior.

 

As his eyes quickly became adjusted to the lack of light he drew a deep breath at the sight before him.  High up around the walls of the chamber were fixed four sets of chains and manacles.  Two of them held elves, one unconscious and one breathing raggedly, barely awake.  It was the dim light from the wakeful elf and the sound of his desperate gasps for air that Legolas had seen and heard.

 

The prince moved quickly to the conscious elf’s side, and carefully taking his head in both his hands he raised it gently to look into his face.  The elf flinched under his touch and groaned. 

 

“What happened to you, my friend?” Murmured Legolas, looking to see if he could unlock the manacles that held the elf’s wrists.  The prince tugged at the chains in frustration, they were securely locked.  The unhappy, captive elf tried to focus his pain-filled eyes on the fair being who was trying to help him.

 

“Who...who are you?” He whispered hoarsely, his voice cracked and broken.

 

“I am a friend.  I am trying to get you free, but I am not doing very well so far.” Said Legolas, looking round desperately for something to try to prize open the manacles with.  The prince heard another moan and saw the elf’s head fall forwards again, he was slipping into unconsciousness.

 

“You look like one of the Galadhrim.  Are you from Lóthlorien?”  The prince wanted to keep the elf with him.

 

“Yes.....yes, I.....I think so.”

 

“What is your name?”  Legolas had found a sharp piece of flint and had begun working away trying to force apart the links of the chain holding the manacles.

 

“I.....I don’t.....remember.....” The elf looked at Legolas in panic,  “.....why can’t I remember?”

 

“It does not matter, you will remember it, I am certain.....hush now.” Said Legolas, trying to calm the distraught elf.

 

“It does matter.....” The elf struggled to remember.  He felt so lost.  “.....I.....I am.....I am.....Sildil!” He said triumphantly, but a sudden bout of coughing racked his body and his head fell forwards onto his chest again.

 

“Sildil?  Come on, stay with me, I think I almost have it.....there!” Said the prince as one of the Galadhrim’s arms fell free.  He slumped across Legolas’ shoulder.  The elf now had the added weight of Sildil to cope with while he tried to free his other wrist, he needed the elf to be awake.

 

“Sildil?  Sildil, when were you brought here?  How long ago?”  He gently shook the elf with a free hand.

 

Sildil forced his eyes to open and groaned, holding himself up a little.  “How long ago?.....”  He looked confused for a moment, as if he did not understand the question.  He swallowed and took a shaky breath.  “How long?.....two, perhaps three days ago.  I was brought here.  I don’t remember what was before.....” His voice tailed off and Legolas felt his weight again.

 

“Please, I am almost there.....Sildil?”  Legolas took every opportunity to call the elf by name, wanting to reassure him.  The second manacle was a little easier to prise apart and as soon as it released its victim, the prince gently lowered the elf to the floor.  As he examined him, the elf winced in pain and opened his eyes again.

 

“What did they do to you?”

 

“They made me drink.....something foul.  It burned and twisted.....” The elf held up his fingers.    The joints were red and angry, swollen and distorted.   “They beat me.....used knives.....the wounds do not heal.”  Legolas had already seen the many painful scars on the elf’s body.  Whatever was given to him to drink slowed or even halted the normally fast elvish healing.  What went on in this room was obviously the second part of transforming the eldar into the guards Legolas and Aragorn had already seen, the first stage being the selection and pacifying that had taken place in the firepit hall and the chamber beyond.

 

“Can you stand?  I will try to get you out of here.”  Asked the prince, but Sildil shook his head. 

 

“I cannot leave the other elf here.  I do not know his name, but we were brought here together and until he passed out we were each other’s strength against the torment.”

 

Legolas gave a worried sigh.  He did not truly wish to leave the senseless elf either, but time was rapidly running out.  If anyone came to inspect the prisoners they would all be trapped.

 

“I promise you I will return as soon as I can.  Please, let us go.” The prince urged.

 

Sildil struggled to his feet, swaying slightly and made his way over to the imprisoned elf’s side.  He gently stroked his head.

 

“I am so sorry, friend.  I will be back, I promise.” He whispered into his ear and turned back to Legolas with tears in his eyes.  “Let us go then.” He said, his heart breaking.

 

Legolas nodded and moved behind the door, listening intently.  There was no noise from outside in the passage and the two elves quietly slipped through the door, one supporting the other.  The prince took them steadily back the way he had come.  He intended to rejoin the main route through the castle and get Sildil to the main gates, hoping to catch up with Aragorn again, if, indeed, the man had managed to get out.

 

Actually, Legolas did not feel at all hopeful if he was being honest.  He had not liked the sound of the alarms he had heard earlier.  He knew that the chances of achieving his goal of finding Rildur were diminishing by the second, and now he was slowed, achingly so, by having to help Sildil whose halting progress along Dol Guldur’s dismal corridors was painful.

But he could not have left the elf to his fate.  The two of them struggled on, wary of every sound.

 

They drew near to the great hall and waited in the very same shadows that Aragorn and the elves had hidden in a little earlier.  But they were not so fortunate, they did not have the weight of numbers on their side, and this time the guards were prepared for trouble, there were many more and they were all well armed. 

 

Legolas could see that he would never be able to fight his way out.  Their only hope was to find another exit.  He leant back and rested his head against the stone wall.  There must be another way?  He thought desperately of his father’s palace.  There were other routes out from there, usually from the cellars or storerooms, for use in times of war or if the palace were to be besieged, or even for bringing in supplies to the palace.

 

It was their only hope.  He took Sildil by the arm and led him back along the passageway.  Sildil groaned and stumbled, exhausted by the prince’s efforts to escape.

 

“I am sorry, Sildil.  We will have to try to find another way out of here.”  Almost carrying the weary elf, Legolas began to follow smaller corridors always choosing insignificant ones that seemed to lead downwards, hoping to find his way to the storerooms and cellars.  Even if he did not find an escape route, at least they might find weapons for Sildil to use.

 

Perhaps it was the effort in supporting Sildil that distracted Legolas, or perhaps it was because his mind kept returning to worry about Aragorn and whether he had managed to escape, but the prince’s attention momentarily wandered,  just enough for him not to be aware of soft footsteps approaching along the passageway in front.

 

The moment Legolas saw the first of the elf-guards before him, he knew that there was little hope that he would get out of this alive.   He could not run far or fast with the wounded elf in tow and would not abandon him.  He roughly shoved Sildil behind him, against the wall and drew his knives ready to defend himself.  Like Aragorn and the elves earlier he was hampered by his reluctance to kill the elf-guards, and could only hope to put up as brave a fight as possible before his capture. He slashed and thrust low and wide with his weapons, aiming at legs and arms and managed to hold his position fairly well but as uninjured guards replaced the wounded he began to tire.  Legolas battled on, refusing to give up, determined to protect Sildil with his last breath when, to his horror, he heard a voice that he recognised and his guard was broken.  He cried out as a club smashed down upon his right shoulder, making him lose his grip on his knife and curl over in sudden, agonising pain.  A heavy foot stamped on his other hand, rendering it useless and the other blade was kicked to one side.  It was over.

 

Legolas saw a pair of soft-booted feet approach and looked up into cold, empty elvish eyes.

He had found Dúwen’s husband, Rildur.

 

*****

 

Aragorn and the assortment of elves ran deep into the forest the sound of the alarm from Dol Guldur echoing around their ears.  Unfortunately, they could also hear the shouts and cries of their pursuers, mostly orcs, rapidly gaining on them and hemming them in on both sides.  The young man gave a cry of frustration, after all their efforts and the terrible slaying of elf by elf, it could not end like this.  He flinched as an arrow whizzed past, grazing his head, to land in a tree to his left and ducked as another flew by and hit the ground to his right.  He heard the grunt of an elf beside him and stopped to grab him as he fell, dragging, half carrying him away from their hunters.

 

The noises of the orcs grew louder and the arrows fell around them like rain when suddenly there were roars of pain and anger from those that chased them and fine elvish arrows were flying in the opposite direction.  Aragorn’s heart gave a leap of hope and his expectations were confirmed when he saw Elrohir and Haldir crash through the trees ahead of him, followed by many Galadhrim and the small party of Mirkwood elves.

 

“Estel!” Cried Elrohir, clutching at his young foster brother as Haldir took hold of the wounded elf by his side and motioned his warriors onwards into the battle.

 

Aragorn sobbed with relief, but desperately needed to warn the rescuers about the guard-elves.  “Stop, you must stop!  Your people must only kill the orcs, not the others.  They are elves, Haldir, they are elves.” He pleaded urgently.

 

Haldir’s eyes grew wide with shock, but he nodded and quickly gave orders to the Galadhrim and Sylvan elves to be careful.  He and his warriors pushed onwards towards Dol Guldur, beating the hunters back towards the black castle.

 

Elrohir took Aragorn to one side and made him rest against a tree while he looked at the man’s head injury.

 

“It is nothing, Ro, just a scratch.”  Said the man shrugging off his brother’s attention, “please don’t fuss.”

 

“For once I agree with you.” Said the elf with a wry smile.  Then he frowned anxiously.  “Where is Legolas?  Is he not with you?”

 

Aragorn sighed, shaking his head.  “ I left him in the castle.....he would not come, Ro, and I had to get the elves we rescued to safety.....If anything has happened to him.....” Tears filled the young man’s eyes.

 

Elrohir gripped Aragorn’s head firmly between his hands and made his brother look at him.

 

“Enough of that, Estel.  I know how stubborn Legolas can be, you had no choice, you had a responsibility to these elves .  We are here now, and we will make sure the prince is safe.”

 

“The guards, Ro....they are elves, they were changed, made to serve the dark Lord.”  The young man screwed his eyes shut, remembering what happened in the hall.  “One of them.....killed another elf.  It broke the spell on all of them with us, but.....but it was horrible.  I couldn’t help but think that it could have been Elladan.”

 

Elrohir was sickened by the thought and pulled Aragorn into his arms, holding him tightly and comforting him.

 

“Where is Ell?” Asked Aragorn pulling back after a moment, “is he safe?”

 

“Yes, do not worry, when we left you we met with a search party of Mirkwood elves looking for Celebithil’s hunting party.  They agreed to return to Lóthlorien with us where we found Haldir and the Galadhrim about to leave for Dol Guldur.  Elladan recovered fairly soon after we left you and Legolas.  He stayed with Grandmother so that she could discover what had happened to him.”

 

Aragorn sighed with relief.  He had been worried about his brother. 

 

“I think there is hope for the elves taken to Dol Guldur, at least for the ones who have not been here for so long.  Most of the guards that tried to stop us from leaving were recently taken.  And our brother never got as far as the castle, thanks to Legolas.  But there were some.....”  The young man halted, his voice husky and broken as he remembered the dreadful cries of the elves in the firepit chamber as they plunged to their deaths, urged on by their horribly altered kin.

 

Elrohir could see that his little brother had seen terrors that he did not wish to talk about and gently brushed his hair away from his face protectively.  The elf knew that he would tell him more later, when he needed to release his burden.

 

Elrohir stood up, taking Aragorn by the hand.  “Come then, let us go and see what our Mirkwood friend is up to.  I expect he could do with our help!” He said, smiling.

 

“I do not doubt it!” Said Aragorn, cheered and encouraged by the thought that he could now go back for Legolas.  He just hoped that it was not going to be too late.

 

*****

 

Legolas tugged again at the manacles that held his wrists, knowing that they would not give.  They had not done so the last time he tried or the several times before that.  He growled in frustration, and the elf chained by his side lifted his head and gave a choked sob.

 

“I am sorry, my friend, if it had not been for me you would have escaped.”

 

“No, Sildil,  it is not your fault.  I could not leave you.  It is I that should be sorry, I did not keep you safe.” Whispered Legolas hoarsely.  His throat hurt from the vile liquid that he had been forced to drink earlier, when he and Sildil had been brought back to the place they had hoped not to see again.

 

The prince had stumbled here in shock, not wanting to believe that he had found Rildur and that it was too late.  He called the elf’s name at every opportunity, trying to reach through the evil hold that the Nazgûl had over the once proud Galadhrim, but it was no use, and all he got for his efforts were kicks and punches. 

 

Sildil was defeated and dispirited.  He had been through all the pain and torture of this chamber before and if it had not been for his loyalty to his new friend and his feeling of guilt he would have succumbed already to the evil potion forced down his throat, but still he struggled to keep with Legolas, to help him as much as he could.  He knew what was coming next.  The prince would need his help, however feeble it was.

 

The pain running through Legolas’ body was excruciating.  In addition to his damaged shoulder, which felt as though it were dislocated, he was sure that the harsh blows he had received on his way here had cracked at least one rib.  These injuries he could bear, he had suffered from similar beatings before, but it was the effects of the poison that had been fed to him that caused the most pain.

 

Every joint in his body felt as though it were on fire, he could feel the bones grinding together, twisting and grating against each other.  His spine ached as if it was being ripped apart.  He could see his knuckles swelling and becoming distorted by the hour. 

 

Sildil did not suffer quite so much.  He had been made to drink the foul brew for several days before Legolas met him and his body had grown more accustomed to it.  He tried to encourage Legolas when the prince moaned softly under his breath.

 

“It will get better, friend,” he said weakly,  “but fighting it makes it worse.”

 

Legolas let out a shaky breath.  He knew that things would go better for him if he simply gave in and let the toxins take hold of his body, but he could not do that.  Behind all his struggling and resistance there lurked the fear, the terror that he would become like the guard-elves, like Rildur.  That he would lose himself and unwittingly serve the Nazgûl and his dark Lord, the Necromancer.  The thought that he might end up like one of the guards that herded the elves to their deaths frightened him more than any physical pain ever could.

 

The process of such a change was terrifyingly quick.  He had rescued Sildil earlier after the elf had been tortured for three days at most, and yet by then many physical changes had already taken place.  On their return to the room the other unknown elf that Sildil had been incarcerated with, that they had had to leave behind, was now conscious and had been released, his mind fully biddable and obedient to Rildur’s commands.  Legolas knew that drinking more of the filthy concoction would render him unable to fight the relentless torture much longer.

 

The thin shaft of light from the crack in the door widened as it was flung open and Rildur and three other guards entered.  He held another dose of the potion for both Legolas and Sildil in his hands.  He marched over to Sildil and immediately pulled back his head, pouring the liquid down his throat.  The elf struggled weakly, but could not resist and coughed and swallowed, his head falling onto his chest in a dead faint afterwards.

 

He then approached Legolas, who frantically twisted and writhed in his bonds.

 

“Rildur! Rildur, please, do not do this.” The prince pleaded, trying to reach the elf through his bewitchment.  “Remember Dúwen, your wife.  Do you remember her?  She loves you, I have come to take you to her.  Please, Rildur, please, remember Dúwen.”  A tiny, fleeting flicker of light shone behind the elf’s cold eyes for a moment and was gone.  Legolas saw it come and go and his hopes were dashed.

 

Rildur held Legolas’ jaw firmly in one hand and prised apart his clenched teeth, forcing the neck of the bottle between the struggling elf’s lips.  He poured all of the potion into his mouth, and held his jaw tightly, stopping Legolas from spitting it out.  The elf then deliberately pulled on the prince’s damaged shoulder, causing him to gasp in pain and swallow the vile stuff. 

 

An icy fire swept through Legolas, causing an agony that was much, much worse than before.  All of his damaged, torn joints and ligaments were now especially sensitive to the liquid, and it took only seconds for it to begin to work, overwhelming the prince’s fragile defences.  He fought hard, gasping for breath, refusing to succumb to the relentless onslaught until his body could take no more and darkness overwhelmed him.  His last words were barely audible.

 

“Dúwen, I am so sorry.....”

 

*****

 

After seeing that the rescued elves were safe, Aragorn and Elrohir joined Haldir and his followers in fighting the orcs and elf-guards that defended Dol Guldur.  They were constantly on their guard against killing any of the altered elves, and also mindful of the possible presence of the Nazgûl lord, though Aragorn had not seen him since his time in the firepit chamber.  He had asked Lómdur, the guard who opened the gates, if he knew where the Ringwraith was, but he did not.  The young man just hoped that the Necromancer’s servant would not reappear too soon.

 

The Galadhrim and the Mirkwood elves pushed their way closer and closer to the castle and were holding their own in the battle when Haldir called to Aragorn and Elrohir.

 

“We can keep their attention long enough for you to get inside to rescue the prince.  Look for an opening and take it.” 

 

Aragorn and his brother nodded and crept closer to the gates.  They were fortunate that it was dark and they stayed in the shadows waiting for an opportunity.  As soon as there was a gap in the fighting, they took it, slipping through the entrance unnoticed.

 

Aragorn led Elrohir along the main passageway following the route he had taken before.  They encountered several orcs and quickly dispatched them, but met no elf-guards, luckily it seemed that most of the occupants of the castle were involved in the skirmish outside.  When they reached the firepit hall, the young man took Elrohir along the corridor that the prince had followed when he and Aragorn had parted and where the captive elves were taken. 

 

They had no idea how easy it would be to find the prince or whether he had found Rildur and they crept forward cautiously through the gloomy passages that echoed with the sounds of the distant battle.  They had just passed a heavy, wooden door and were about to follow a branch in the corridor when Elrohir stopped, hearing a sound from within the room, the cry of someone in pain.

 

“Estel, wait.  Someone is hurt.”  Aragorn stood, his ear to the wood.  He did not want to barge in unprepared.  He hissed as he too heard the sound of quiet moaning, and a name, ‘Dúwen’.

 

“It must be either Legolas or Rildur in there!” He whispered urgently, and drew his sword as Elrohir did the same.  The elf looked at Aragorn and nodded in readiness.  They were both apprehensive, they would only get one chance of surprise if there was trouble.

 

The two brothers burst in through the door, shouting and wielding their swords.  The five elf-guards within were taken completely by surprise and within minutes three had been overpowered by Aragorn and Elrohir and lay stunned on the floor of the chamber, but the two that were left fought fiercely and again the brothers were hampered by their unwillingness to seriously hurt the elves.

 

Elrohir managed to disarm one guard and held him firmly by the shoulders, but the other slipped away from Aragorn’s assault and swiftly moved to the slumped figure held in chains against the far wall, putting a knife to its throat.  It was only then that Aragorn saw who it was.

 

“Legolas!”

 

“If you come closer I will kill this elf.  Put down your weapons and release the guard.”  The rogue elf gripped the prince’s hair and yanked back his head, pushing his blade into the flesh under his jaw firmly so that a thin trickle of blood ran onto the blade.

 

Legolas’ eyes fluttered open and he moaned softly as his gaze focused blearily on Aragorn.  His eyes opened wider in recognition.  “Estel?.....do not.....hurt him.....it is Rildur.” He gasped, closing his eyes again.

 

Aragorn did not know what to do.  If he and Elrohir did as they were asked they would be trapped and killed or worse.  The young man did not intend to watch his elven foster-brother be captured and turned into one of these creatures, but if they ignored the command the guard did not look as if he would hesitate in carrying out his threat to kill the prince.  And this elf-guard was Rildur?  

 

They obviously had not responded quickly enough to Rildur’s orders and he twisted Legolas’ hair sharply in his hand, pulling his neck hard, wrenching his wounded shoulder.  The prince’s eyes flew open and he could not suppress a cry of agony, but the sharp pain served to wake him fully.

 

“Rildur, please!” He groaned, “do not do this!  You must remember Dúwen....try!” He pleaded.  He had seen the brief flicker of awareness in his tormentor’s eyes when he had mentioned his wife’s name earlier and firmly believed that somewhere within this twisted and corrupted elf was the true Galadhrim who had won her heart all those years before.

In reply the elf-guard pressed the knife further into Legolas, causing his blood to flow more freely.

 

Aragorn did not wish to watch his friend bleed to death, and threw down his sword.  Elrohir hesitated briefly, then let go of his captive who turned quickly and grabbed the elf by the neck, holding a blade to his ribs.

 

Rildur eased the pressure from Legolas’ throat, but still kept his weapon poised in case the human tried anything suddenly.  Aragorn could see that his friend was in a very bad way.  Apart from the wound to his neck, his body showed bruising and cuts from the beatings he had received when trying to resist capture and his shoulder had obviously been seriously injured. But far, far worse were the effects of the poison that he had been made to drink.  His archer’s hands and proud back were now twisted and the joints swollen, his muscles wasted.  But his eyes, though red and sore, still bore the gaze of the prince.  He had not been totally consumed by the toxins.  Not yet. 

 

Legolas breathing was ragged and hoarse, but he summoned up all his strength to speak to Rildur once more.  He knew that he would not be able to do this for very much longer.

 

“Rildur,” he whispered, “do you not remember your love?  Do you not remember how beautiful she is?  She is waiting for you...I have come to take you to her.”  He stopped and gave a shuddering cough.  Aragorn looked in horror as he saw spots of blood appear on his friend’s chin, but as he tried to go to him, Rildur pushed the knife towards the prince’s neck again. 

 

Legolas regained his breath and went on speaking, even though the blade at his throat began to cut deeper.  “Rildur, listen....please.  Do you not remember her hair?  It is the colour of dark brown syrup, and as sweet.  Her eyes are deep and beautiful and the colour of hazel nuts in autumn.....” 

 

The pressure of knife at Legolas’ throat eased a little.

 

“.....she has a voice that sounds like the rustling of the leaves and she smells like honeysuckle and lilies.....”

 

A slight frown creased Rildur’s forehead.

 

“.....her laugh is like.....birdsong, and when she smiles.....when she.....” Legolas faltered, his eyes closed.

 

“Legolas!” Called Aragorn, desperately.  His friend dragged his eyes open again and he gave another terrible cough.  This time there were more than a few spots of blood on Legolas’  chin, it began to trickle from the corners of his mouth.

 

“.....when Dúwen smiles, it.....it is like the sun breaking through clouds on a spring day.....  Please, Rildur.....”  Legolas gasped, he did not think he could go on.  He began to sob quietly, not because of his injuries or the pain, nor from fear, but because of the memories that he had thought were long buried, and from disappointment that he would not be able to keep his promise to Dúwen.

 

Rildur lowered the hand holding the knife.

 

“Dúwen?.....I.....that name....”  Rildur looked confused.

 

“Listen to my friend, please, Rildur...try to remember!”  Aragorn was becoming desperate for he could see that Legolas was failing fast.

 

The bewildered elf  looked down at the blade in his hands in confusion, as if suddenly he had no idea how it had got there.   A cloud crossed his eyes, and he looked at Legolas as if it was the first time he had seen him.  He frowned and his eyes widened suddenly in recognition.

 

“Prince Legolas?.....Is it you?  What....what has happened to you?.....and how?.....”

 

“Please, release him, Rildur, you have the keys, let him go!” Urged Aragorn and, taking a chance, he rushed to the prince’s side.  At the same time Elrohir swiftly twisted away from his guard’s grip and disarmed the elf.

 

“Where are we?  My company.....we were guarding the eastern fences.....what happened?” The stunned elf looked around the chamber, at the overpowered guards, at the senseless Sildil hanging in his chains, at Aragorn and Elrohir and, lastly, back at Legolas.  “I.....I  remember.....I.....gave you a drink.....what.....what have I done?”  As realisation dawned, Rildur began to shake and he looked at Aragorn with frightened eyes.  “What shall I do?” He whispered.

 

“ Help us get these elves away from here, now.”  The elf nodded, still in shock.  Aragorn had to show Rildur where the key was to the manacles, his fingers shaking and fumbling the first lock, but within a moment the prince was free and fell into Aragorn’s waiting arms.  Then the elf turned his attentions to Sildil, releasing him and holding him up.  Sildil had begun to wake with a groan, and could just about hold himself upright with help.

 

“We must get out of here, Ro, I will carry Legolas, can you take care of your guard? ”

 

Elrohir nodded, and grabbing the guard by the wrists he pushed him in front out into the corridor.  The elf did not struggle, his own memories had begun to surface as Rildur had spoken of what he remembered and he walked in a daze, passively accepting whatever Elrohir asked of him.

 

“Rildur, can you help the elf in your charge?”  Rildur nodded, and put his arm around Sildil’s waist, half carrying him, and followed Elrohir out of the chamber, and lastly came Aragorn, with the frail prince in his arms.  The friends did not wish to leave the two unconscious guards, but had no choice, not if they wanted a chance to get away from Dol Guldur alive.

They stumbled along the passageways through the dark castle towards the exit.

 

*****

 

The battle raged in the forests surrounding Dol Guldur.  Haldir and the Galadhrim and the additional Mirkwood elves were managing to hold their positions, but not push back against their opponents, when suddenly scores more orcs poured from the castle with dozens of the mutated elves in their midst. 

 

Haldir called for his forces to fall back and regroup.  As things stood, they did not stand a chance against the additional numbers, especially if they continued to try to avoid a dreadful kin slaying. 

 

“What are the casualties?” He asked one of his captains.

 

“Sir, out of the forty-five Lóthlorien and fifteen Mirkwood elves, twenty-three have been injured and are being cared for, but there are no deaths,  we still have thirty-seven able to fight.”

 

“Not enough.” The senior Marchwarden, passed his hand over his eyes, rubbing the exhaustion from them.  The fast and furious journey here and the prolonged skirmish was taking its toll, especially since there was the constant brooding presence of the dark towers of Dol Guldur sapping the elves spirit.  He was also desperately worried about the young man and the Lady Galadriel’s grandson still trapped in the castle searching for the Mirkwood prince.  He could not leave them to their fate.  The presence of another of his fellow warriors by his side broke into his thoughts.

 

“Sir, riders approach from Lóthlorien.” Said the elf, with a look of triumph on his face.  Haldir smiled, with a glint of steel in his eyes.

 

“Now we *will* have enough!” He said and prepared to meet the company of elves.

 

*****

 

After Elrohir had returned to Mirkwood with Haldir and the company of elves, Elladan had remained with the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, telling them both all that he could about his experiences with the wraith that captured him and its seductive power.  Though his grandmother was not a healer like his father, she had other qualities and gifts.  Her abilities enabled to see and understand what hid within another’s mind and spirit and Elladan had allowed her to examine him and look deeply into his heart to discover what had happened to him.

 

She had realised, like Legolas had earlier, that the dark shadow being that lured and captured Elladan was merely a servant of the Nazgûl that lived in Dol Guldur and not a power in itself.  Why the elves were being taken, she did not know and her grandson could not say as he had not seen the unhappy elves that had been tormented and changed into minions of the dark, but she knew that whatever the reason was that existed behind the abductions, it was evil.

 

Now that Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel knew that the missing Galadhrim were almost certainly alive, Haldir and Elrohir were dispatched immediately with a party of elves to give emergency aid to Aragorn and Legolas, while more thorough preparations were put in order to follow with a more structured and weighty force, advancing to Dol Guldur to assist if the need was there.

 

Lord Celeborn was looking for his wife, when he saw the Lady Galadriel, dressed simply in a riding tunic and grey travelling cloak and walking towards Elladan who was about to set off for Mirkwood. 

 

“My Lady! Please tell me that you are not doing what I think you are doing?”

 

She stopped in her tracks and sighed.  Galadriel had hoped to leave before her husband found out.  She knew that he would try to persuade her from her reckless endeavour, knew that all his reasoning would be sound, and also knew that she would not listen to him.  Lord Celeborn came running in almost ungainly haste to stand beside her.

 

“I am needed.  I am going.” She said firmly.  Lord Celeborn moved to block her path.

 

“You have seen this?”

 

“No.....not as such, but ever since Elladan returned I have felt the distress of many elves growing in my heart.  I must go my Lord.”

 

“My Lady, you hold the Golden Wood in your hands.....what if you should.....”

 

“.....I will not.” Said Galadriel firmly.

 

Celeborn frowned.  He stood gazing at his wife of so many, many years.  He knew that determined look in her eyes.  He smiled softly at her.  “How can I ever argue with you my love?  Go safely, and may the Valar protect you.  He gently kissed the top of her head.

 

The lady smiled back.  “Do not worry, I *will* be careful, my Lord.” And with those words she mounted her horse and joined Elladan and the company ready to leave Lóthlorien.

 

*****

 

Aragorn looked at the elf in his arms.  Legolas’ breath rattled painfully in his chest, and he had had several more of the racking coughing fits.  Each time the young man had to put him on the ground and sit him upright, rubbing his back to help him to breathe.  His heart ached when he saw how frail his friend was. 

 

“Sildil, is my friend going to be all right?  You have received the poison, yet you do not seem to suffer so.”

 

Sildil gave a worried sigh.  “I do not know,  I have been concerned about his condition myself, he does seem to have been affected more severely that myself.....”

 

Rildur groaned, and shook his head sorrowfully.  “ I am sorry, so sorry.....” He gave a cry of frustration and anger with himself.  “I did not know it was Legolas.....I did not mean to.....”

 

“Tell me what you do know, Rildur, please.” Said Aragorn urgently.  “What must we do to help him?”

 

Rildur bent his head, his shoulders shaking as he began to sob.  “There is nothing you can do.....oh, if only he had not come to find me.....”

 

Rildur’s words and his tears brought a cold chill to Aragorn’s heart, and he was beginning to feel quite frightened for Legolas, who trembled weakly, eyes closed, in his arms.  “Please, Rildur, what is it?”

 

“The potion does not work the same for every elf, some, like Sildil here, are changed slowly, bit by bit.  For some, it has no effect at all, and then for some it works too fast and their bodies cannot cope with the poison.....” Rildur looked unhappily at Legolas.

 

“What are you saying, Rildur?  He is not going to die?  He cannot!” Cried Aragorn, looking down at his friend desperately.

 

Rildur did not answer, but closed his eyes against his tears.

 

Legolas gave another wrenching cough and his distorted, swollen limbs jerked spasmodically.  Aragorn held his body tightly trying to ease his friend’s pain, and this time when he brought away his hand from the elf’s chest his arm was covered with spots of dark blood.

 

“Oh, Legolas.....hold on, I will get you out of here!”

 

The stricken elf opened his eyes and tried to speak, but could not catch his breath.  A look of panic filled his gaze, and his twisted hand clutched at Aragorn.  The young man frantically pulled the elf upright leaning him forwards and rubbed and soothed his back, calming him.  After a moment Legolas began to breathe a little more easily and Aragorn sighed with relief.  They had gained a little more time.

 

The six continued on their way, Elrohir still led, together with the increasingly bewildered and frightened elf-guard, next came Rildur and Sildil, who did not need any help now, and lastly Aragorn carried Legolas over his shoulder as the prince could barely stand by himself, let alone walk.

 

Aragorn warned Elrohir to wait when they were close to the great entrance hall of the castle, and the companions closed in together and watched the exit from the shadows.  The massive doors were open and the way appeared clear, as all the occupants of Dol Guldur were now involved in the battle that the friends could hear taking place outside, the sounds of swords and cries echoing around the grim chamber.

 

“We must wait until there is a lull in the fighting just outside the gates, and then we can slip out.” Suggested Elrohir.   “I will go first with my friend here,” he said gesturing towards the elf-guard who nodded, he was by now fully aware of what was going on, “then you come next, Estel, with Legolas, and Rildur and Sildil can follow.  That way we can protect you and the prince.”  Aragorn and the others agreed and they took their positions and waited.

 

They did not have to wait for too long as they could see the group of orcs that were blocking their path forced away by a fresh onslaught of elvish arrows.  Elrohir gave the signal.

 

“Now!” He cried and the exhausted group staggered out into the hall and made a dash for the exit.

 

They were almost across and could see the flames of torches outside and smell the sweet sickly scent of battle, when an icy chill gripped them from behind.  The dim, shadowy hall darkened even further and a low malevolent hiss sounded in their ears.

 

“Ai! Quick, do not look back!” Cried Rildur, “ the Nazgûl is here!”

 

The friends struggled on across the floor, but the presence of the evil creature sapped their strength and will.  Aragorn heard Legolas give a gasp of pain and felt him shudder in his arms.  The prince’s body tensed suddenly and stiffened, then with a sigh grew limp and heavy.

 

“Legolas!?” Cried Aragorn frantically, “Now is *really* not a good time, friend, please hold on!” But the sudden change in the weight and feel of the elf’s body threw the weary young man’s balance off and he stumbled and slipped on the stone floor.  He threw himself down awkwardly, trying to bear the brunt of Legolas’ fall, and the pair of them lay sprawled on the ground.  Elrohir stopped running and immediately rushed to guard his brother and his friend, the other three elves following.  They watched in horrified anticipation as the black, shrouded figure approached.

 

*****

 

Haldir and his company of elves gladly greeted the additional forces from Lóthlorien and the senior Marchwarden welcomed Elladan warmly, and began to inform him of their current situation, when he saw the Lady Galadriel.  His eyes opened wide with shock and the words died on his lips.

 

“My Lady!” He said, remembering his manners and bowing low and graciously.

 

“Haldir.” She acknowledged with a smile.  “Do not be so surprised, I do occasionally leave Lóthlorien you know.”

 

“Yes, but.....I mean to say.....” The usually composed and commanding warrior was at a loss for words for once, and Galadriel laughed, the sound of her voice bringing hope and courage to all who stood near her.  They would win this fight, they knew it now.

 

She grew serious.  “Tell me Haldir, do you know what has been happening to the abducted elves?  I have felt their pain in my mind, and it has troubled me.”

 

“My Lady, they were taken into Dol Guldur to be made into a dark force of  the evil Lord.  At this very moment we are fighting our own kin who do not know us.  They are bewitched by some spell or poison and it hinders our battle - none of us wishes to kill another elf.”

 

Lady Galadriel nodded, her eyes clouded with anxiety.  “It is no less than I thought.  And what of Elrohir, my grandson and his foster brother, Aragorn? Where are they?”

 

Haldir lowered his head briefly, then met the Lady’s gaze.  “They are inside the castle, they went in search of the prince of Mirkwood.”

 

Lady Galadriel stood calmly contemplating the situation for a moment.  Then she seemed to come to a decision.  “Haldir, have you managed to rescue any?”

 

Haldir nodded.  “We have managed to save several, my Lady, but we have had to restrain them, they do not know remember who they are, or about anything that happened to them and fight us constantly.”

 

“Take me to them.” The Lady ordered, and Haldir led her to a group of angry looking elves, guarded by Galadhrim.

 

As the Lady approached, the elves trembled and suddenly quietened.  Her presence calmed them and the light she carried with her dispelled the gloom surrounding them.  Galadriel stood in front of the huddled group and looked deep into their eyes, searching their spirits and minds for what troubled them.  Haldir watched her, awe struck by her power and demeanour. 

After some time the Marchwarden saw the Lady Galadriel sigh heavily, and her shoulders relax , as if a weight had been lifted from them.  She looked around for him and he was at her side at once.

 

“Haldir, I have seen what troubles these elves.  They have been given a poison that invades their minds and bodies to make them weak and susceptible to the dark Lord’s power.  It does not in itself control them, though it does cause physical damage.  However, I believe that I can help.” She smiled,  “we will win this battle, Haldir.  Go tell your company to be prepared to receive their kin.”  Haldir nodded, returning her smile and then left to give instructions to the elves under his authority.

 

The company gathered in a great arc around the front of the black towers, and waited, tense with anticipation.  The Lady Galadriel stood, protected by Elladan and Haldir in the centre, her eyes closed and head held high, as if drawing her strength together.  Some hint of her power must have been felt by the orcs and elf-guards as the sounds of fighting died and all was quiet and still.   Suddenly, through the silence their came the sound of a note, so clear and pure that it cut through the gloom like a spear of light.  The note was followed by another, and another, a scale of infinite beauty.  It was Galadriel singing.

 

The song spoke of light and warmth, of fresh green leaves and new growth.  It spoke of hope and courage and warmed the spirits of all who heard it.  The sound grew louder and richer and filled the air, and began to resonate around the towers, until it sounded as though there were many voices singing.  In fact, there were, as each of the elves began to repeat Galadriel’s song, blending their voices together, a faint echo of the song of the Ainur at the beginning of time.

 

The orcs screamed in pain and fled into the woods, followed by the Galadhrim.  One by one the elf-guards dropped their weapons in confusion and gazed around, bewildered.  As the elves returned to them, Haldir’s company gently took their kin and brought them to Galadriel.  Suddenly, a host of bewildered and confused elves began to appear, stumbling through the black gates of Dol Guldur, elf-guards helping frail captives.  The Lady’s song had even penetrated that grim place.  She continued her song until the last captured elf was freed, and then she stopped.  The only sound to be heard was quiet sobbing from some of the restored elves as they realized what had been happening to them.

 

*****

 

Elrohir stood, bravely facing the Nazgûl, his sword drawn.  Beside him crouched Aragorn, also with weapon in hand, and behind them both lay Legolas, pale and barely breathing.  Rildur, Sildil and the other elf waited, trembling and weaponless.

 

Both brothers knew that they had little chance of leaving Dol Guldur alive, but were determined to fight to the bitter end.  They would not allow themselves or their friends to be taken by the Ringwraith and used for his evil purposes.  Death was preferable.

 

The being hissed in pleasure, this would be so very easy and he would have a wonderful gift for his master.  He moved forwards, slowly and deliberately, as if to say, ‘do your worst, you petty creatures, you have no power over me’ and drew his sword.

 

A faint, distant sound hummed through the chamber, like the echo of a bell, but instead of slowly fading it grew stronger and more piercing.  The Nazgûl’s head jerked back and he looked around angrily, but then focused his attention back to the elves and the man in front of him.  Elrohir and Aragorn braced themselves for his onslaught, but it did not come.  The sounds grew louder, stronger and more strident, and this time the Ringwraith could not ignore the music that reverberated around the great hall.  He gave a cry of frustration and fury and hissed again, but this time in pain.  The sweetness and beauty of Gadadriel’s song was excruciating to him, piercing his soul like burning arrows, and he turned and fled the chamber seeking the dark and mournful silence deep within the castle.

 

Aragorn could not believe what had happened.  A moment ago they faced death, and now there was nothing to stop them leaving Dol Guldur.  For a second the brothers looked at each other, unable to move, and then Elrohir snapped into action.

 

“Quickly, Estel, let us take Legolas and get out of here before it comes back!”

 

Aragorn nodded and gently shouldered the prince.  “Come on my friend, you’ll be safe soon.”  But the catch in his voice belied his words.  He feared for Legolas’ life, and even if he did survive, what hope was there for him, as injured and twisted as he was?

 

The small group struggled out of the gates and as far away from the castle as they could before they collapsed on the ground.  Aragorn took Legolas lightly in his arms, pulling him onto his lap. 

 

“Legolas?  We are out, we’ll be safe now, look.”

 

Legolas opened his eyes weakly and smiled.  “Thank you, Estel.  Please, look after Rildur…..”  He suddenly broke into one of his coughing fits, and clawed at Aragorn’s tunic.

 

“Please, Legolas, do not speak, save your strength.” Urged Aragorn.

 

The prince shook his head, gasping for breath.  “No, listen…. please, you must.  Take Rildur to Dúwen…..please, I promised…..I…..” the elf’s eyes grew suddenly wide as he struggled for air.  “Estel?....Es…..I…..I…..cannot…..!”  His body tensed in panic as his lungs began to fail.

 

“Legolas!” cried Aragorn, and was aware of Elrohir sobbing frantically by his side.

 

The young man held his friend tightly, rubbing his back and trying to calm him one more time, to ease his breathing.  He wept and pleaded to all the deities he knew to save the prince but the blood ran cold in his veins when he felt Legolas shudder and go limp in his arms. 

 

Rildur was distraught.  The Mirkwood prince had come to find him, to return him to his love in spite of the fact that he had once cared for her himself.  He had sacrificed himself for their happiness once more and Rildur owed him a debt of gratitude he could now never repay.  He too, sobbed and wept.

 

It was a sorry group that the Lady Galadriel and Haldir found moments later.  Aragorn was barely aware of Legolas being gently removed from his arms by the Marchwarden and Elrohir, and followed them in a daze of grief.

 

 His brother and the Lóthlorien elf carefully carried his friend to the place where the injured were being cared for.  Aragorn would not leave Legolas’ side, and collapsed to his knees beside the pale elf’s bed.

 

“Do not worry for your friend,” smiled Galadriel, “all is not lost yet, I will take care of Legolas, but you must rest also, or I will have both of you to care for!”

 

“Will you be able to help him?”   Aragorn looked at her, a glimmer of hope in his heart, but then a cloud crossed his face.  “But what of his injuries?  The poisons have hurt him so.” He gently took the prince’s twisted and swollen hands in his.  “He is an archer, one of the best.  How can he hold a bow like this?”

 

“I will do what I can here, Aragorn, to keep him alive, and then we will take him to Lóthlorien with all the other damaged elves.  I believe that our healers will be able to counteract the poisons given to all of our kin.  There is hope, do not despair young one.” And she smiled warmly at the man.

 

*****

 

The journey back from Mirkwood to Lóthlorien took some time as the company could not travel too quickly while carrying the injured.  Elladan and Elrohir, relieved to be traveling together once more, went on ahead quickly to prepare the healers to receive the damaged elves.  Aragorn travelled beside Legolas constantly.  He was relieved to see that the prince was breathing easily now and had not had any more attacks of painful coughing, though he was still weak and his joints painful.  He slept for most of the journey.

 

Rildur also stayed near the prince, though at a distance.  He felt terribly guilty for what had happened, though he knew that it was not his fault.  But he could not bear the thought that his safety and joy was dependent on Legolas’ pain and suffering.  He silently vowed that he would do whatever he could to help the Mirkwood elf.  Sildil had been reunited with the elf that had shared his cell and the two had become firm friends.

 

On arrival in the Golden Wood, all the wounded and damaged, including Legolas, were taken into seclusion to be cared for by the healers in an atmosphere of peace and utter calm.  Aragorn was not allowed to stay with his friend, in spite of protesting vehemently.

 

“I will be quiet, I promise.  No one will even notice that I am there, I will not get in anyone’s way…..”

 

“No, Aragorn, I am sorry, you cannot stay with Legolas, not this time.  Trust the healers and the Lady Galadriel, they will take good care of your friend, I promise.” Said Lord Celeborn firmly, and Aragorn had to abide by the elf lord’s command though it nearly drove him mad with frustration to do so.

 

After five long and anxious days, Lady Galadriel appeared in the flet that Aragorn and the twins had been assigned.

 

“Grandmother! What news of Legolas?” cried Elladan.

 

“Good news.” Said Galadriel with a broad smile.  “I have come myself to fetch you to him.” 

 

Aragorn immediately leapt up from the couch he rested on and began to rush down the ladder ahead of his foster brothers.

 

Galadriel laughed.  “Such haste?  I can assure you, Aragorn, that the prince is not going anywhere just yet, though he is driving the healers mad with his frustrations!” she called, but the young man took no notice of her and ran ahead as fast as he could to where he knew his friend was being cared for.

 

The recovering elves were being looked after in a series of flets and talans high in the midst of some of the tallest Mallorn trees, so that they could get the benefit of as much light and air as possible.  Legolas had been given quarters to himself, such was the severity of his injuries, and Aragorn climbed the graceful ladders in some trepidation.  He was afraid of what he might find.  Would his friend be whole and completely healed, or would he still bear the physical scars of the poison he had been forced to swallow?

 

The young man braced himself as he reached the sleeping platform that held the prince.  He took a deep breath to steady his nerves and pushed aside the gossamer drapes that shielded the  bed from his view. 

 

Legolas was half-lying, half sitting, supported by soft pillows and cushions and gave an enormous grin as he saw his friend approach.  Apart from still looking paler than usual, and the joints of the fingers on his left hand still looking a little red and swollen, he looked well and cheerful.  Aragorn heaved a huge sigh of relief and returned the elf’s grin wholeheartedly.

 

“Oh, Legolas, it is so good to see you so much better!” he said, sitting on the end of the bed.

 

“I feel well, my friend.  The Lady Galadriel has been very kind to me, and her healers continue to work on my hand.” He said, flexing his fingers.  “I can move it more easily each day.  It should be back to normal in a few days.”

 

“I am so glad.” Aragorn looked down with a frown.  “I thought for a moment you were lost to us, Legolas.”  He looked up at the elf, his brow furrowed at the memory.

 

Legolas laughed.  “You do not get rid of me so easily, human.”

 

Aragorn smiled.  “Well, I suppose it makes a change from one of us being dragged half dead into Imladris for Lord Elrond to take care of us!”

 

“Yes,  instead of our Father it was Grandmother who had to look after you this time!” Came a voice from the top of the ladder, and Elrohir appeared, closely followed by Elladan, coming to see how their Mirkwood friend faired.

 

“I hadn’t thought of that!” Said Aragorn, “we will *never* live this down, Legolas, you do realise that?”

 

The elf in the bed groaned.  “You are right!  It seems I must always involve your family in my troubles, one way or another!  I don’t suppose…..?”

 

“ ‘Fraid not!” said Elladan, “Grandmother has already sent word to Father, giving *all* the details!”  And the twins chuckled at the sight of Legolas’ crestfallen face.

 

*****

 

A week later found Aragorn, Legolas, Elladan and Elrohir, together with Rildur, ready to leave for Rivendell.  They needed to be away as quickly as possible as it was now late autumn, the first light snows were beginning to fall over the mountains and before long the Redhorn pass would be impassable.  They set off early one fine morning, hoping to reach Imladris within the fortnight.  Their journey was uneventful and ten days later they rode into the courtyard of their home.

 

As soon as they had reached the edges of the valley of Rivendell, the travellers had been spotted and so as they arrived at the entrance to the Last Homely House, Lord Elrond and Dúwen were already waiting on the broad steps to greet them.

 

Rildur had barely entered the gates when he dismounted hastily and ran to his wife, who threw herself into his arms. 

 

“Oh, Rildur!  I have missed you so!”  Cried his love, sobbing in his embrace.

 

“Hush, my love, I am here now, safe and sound, thanks to Prince Legolas and his friend.”  Said Rildur, gratefully acknowledging them both.

 

Dúwen turned to the prince and smiled.  “Yes, thank you Legolas, you have been a true friend, and I will never forget what you have done for us.” She said and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek.  Rildur looked uncomfortably at Legolas.  He knew what he had done to the prince while in the Nazgûl’s power, and how near to death itself his new friend had come in saving him. 

 

Legolas blushed and looked down.  “I only did what anyone would do to help a friend, Dúwen.”  He did not want the elf to know all the details of her husband’s captivity, at least not yet.  He knew that Rildur would tell her in time, but for now he was just grateful that their story had a happy ending.

 

“Come, let us go inside, there is food and drink ready and a warm fire to sit and tell tales by.” Called Lord Elrond, and led the party inside, pausing only to catch Legolas by the arm.

 

“I am glad to see you enter my home unaided this time, Legolas.” The elf Lord said with a slight smirk.  “Though I believe that your return to Lóthlorien was under different circumstances?”  He added, teasing the prince.

 

Legolas groaned.  “I told you that we would never live it down!”  Sighed Aragorn, who was standing by his side..

 

Elrond laughed and followed his twin sons, Rildur and Dúwen through the doors to his house, leaving an embarrassed Legolas and Aragorn in the courtyard.

 

Later that evening when everything had been eaten and drunk, the fire was low in the hearth, and tales had been told, Aragorn caught Legolas staring thoughtfully at Dúwen and Rildur as they rested in each others arms, a picture of wedded bliss.

 

“Any regrets?” he asked his friend softly. 

 

The elf paused for a moment, thinking wistfully of all that had happened in the past and all that might have been .  Then he thought of all that had taken place recently, how close they all come to a tragic end and looked again at the happy and contented couple by the fire, their future secure and safe.  He shook his head, smiling.  “None at all, my friend, none at all.”

 

 

 

The End.