A Simple Hunting Trip

 

By: Emmithar

 

Rating: Pg-13 for minor violence

 

Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing of or belonging to Tolkien’s work. All characters and places belong to Tolkien unless otherwise noted! I have no permission to use these characters, and I am not receiving any money for them. The stories posted are for entertainment and enjoyment only.

 

Otherwise noted:  The characters Corean, Trinea, Felloa, Sabal, Hikerry and other unrecognizable characters are ones that I have created and belong solely to me. If you wish to use any of them in your own stories, please ask first!

 

Summary: A hunting trip turns deadly when 8 year old Aragorn is separated from his brothers. Lost and alone, Aragorn finds himself in more trouble than he can handle when he stumbles upon a hostile village.

 

Note: If anything is spelled or written incorrectly, or is offensive to anyone, forgive me, and please let me know. I can not do anything unless I am told. Thank you.

 

Side note: Caycayal is pronounced (Say-say-al) in case you run into problems pronouncing his name. He will show up in a later chapter in this story.

 

Other stories: Family is Home

 

(maandpa@cnw.com)

 

Chapter 1: An Early Morning

 

 

 

            The early morning was warm, despite the light mist that settled around them, casting everyone into a gloomy mood. In the courtyard the only sounds that could be heard was that of the three horses, who stood as the elves finished packing. Inside however was a different story.

 

            Elladan and Elrohir shouted to each other from across the hallway, checking to make sure they had everything. Meanwhile Elrond attempted to finish dressing the young 8 year old who had it in mind not to stay still. “Estel please,” Elrond said, catching the boy by his shoulders. “Please stop moving for at least a minute!’

 

“But Elladan and Elrohir are almost ready to go!” Aragorn protested, but he did stop moving long enough for Elrond to button the top half of his shirt. “Estel,” Elrond said with more stiffness in his voice than he meant. He waited till the child was looking at him, then spoke in a softer voice. “If you quit squirming than I can finish this, than you can finish getting ready.” Aragorn nodded, sighing.

 

 “Do you have the blankets?” Elrohir’s voice rang through the open hallway. “No I don’t,” Elladan yelled back, “You were supposed to get those.”  “Wait a minute, I thought I was supposed to get the herbs,” Elrohir yelled back. “NO, I’m getting the herbs, you get the blankets,” Elladan’s voice carried a hint of irritation.

 

Elrond gave a sigh as he finished buttoning Aragorn’s shirt, “How they ever talked me into letting you go is beyond me. I still can’t believe that I’m trusting them to be responsible,” Elrond smiled halfway at his own joke. The twins were taking Estel on his first hunt. The boy had learned how to handle a bow well, and how to ride a horse on his on, though it was smaller than the twins, due to his own small size. He could easily note the impatience on his son’s face, and softly smiled to himself.

 

“Am I finished, can I go yet?” Aragorn asked quickly. “No, and no,” Elrond said with a small laugh. He picked the sweater up and pulled it over the boy’s head. “Father, I don’t want to wear this,” he whined softly, scratching his arms, “It’s itchy and it looks stupid.”

 

“It does not. Besides you need to wear it, it will keep you warm,” Elrond stated. “But it’s not even cold out!” he whined more intensely. “Maybe not here, but when you reach open plains it will get cold, speaking of which I should probably see if Elladan and Elrohir remembered theirs,” he said, his voice softening a tone.

 

Estel turned soft eyes on his father. “Am I done now?” he asked softly. Elrond smiled at the soft mumbled tone. “Yes, now you are done. Go out in the kitchen, Rohden will give you some breakfast,” he gave the young boy a push before heading to see the twins.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*

 

After chasing the twins away from their rooms so that they could eat, Elrond himself had breakfast. He easily noted the change in the atmosphere, watching the twins hurry to finish their meal. “Elladan and Elrohir, what happened to your manners?” he scolded gently, glancing toward Aragorn. “Your brother has better manners than the both of you put together and he is much younger than the two of you.”

 

Estel snickered slightly, taking a sip of his milk. Elrohir stuck his tongue out at his younger brother as Elladan blushed from embarrassment. It was not often the two twins had to be scolded. There was a time where it happened nearly everyday, but that was many, many years ago. “Both of you stop that,” Elrond said as Estel stuck his tongue out at Elrohir.

 

With the meal finished, Elrohir led Estel outside, Elladan followed only to be stopped when a hand was laid on his shoulder. “Watch over him Elladan,” Elrond said gently. “He is still young in many ways.”

 

Elladan nodded. “I will father, I promise I won’t let Elrohir get in trouble like he did the last time at the farm. Those poor chickens,” he trailed off slightly. Elrond couldn’t help smiling. “I was talking about Estel,” he said laughing softly. “But please, watch over Elrohir also.” Elladan nodded, “I will.”

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2: The Way Through the Woods

 

 

 

 

The first night seemed to fall quickly, and Estel found himself weary as he sat next to the blazing fire they had built. Elladan began to prepare supper as Elrohir settled the horses in for the night.

 

“Come over here Estel and help me, will you,” Elrohir called to him. Slowly he stood, and moved over to aide his brother. Elrohir handed him the reigns to Estel and fumbled in one of the packs, pulling out brushes. Taking back the reigns he tied them to the small tree and handed Estel a brush, before he started to groom his own horse. Estel followed his example, gently stroking the mane of his own small horse.

 

“When will we hunt?” Estel asked softly.

 

“When we reach the plains,” Elrohir told him. He himself was weary from the long ride and was amazed that his younger brother had any strength at all.

 

“When will we reach the plains?” Estel asked again.

 

Despite his weariness Elrohir laughed. “First we travel the length of this path for yet another day, and then we will cross over the high hills,” he said, pointing in the distance at the rolling ground, to small to be called mountains, but much to big to be called a hill. “After we reach the bottom we will have to travel through the forest before coming into the plains. Then we will hunt.”

 

Estel gave a sigh, “But that will take forever!” he cried softly, brushing the side of his horse.

 

Elladan was the one who laughed this time, “It is only two days,” he told him, cooking the meat over the dancing flames.

 

Aragorn gave a sigh. “That’s still a long time,” he said softly.

 

“But it’s not forever is it?” Elladan asked.

 

 Estel shook his head. “I guess not,” he said, placing the brush back in his back. He lay his against the soft warm gray side of his horse, closing his eyes. He did not realize that he had fallen asleep until he found Elrohir shaking him gently.

 

“Don’t fall asleep to fast my brother. Come and eat, Elladan has prepared a fine meal,” Elrohir told him when he was certain the young human had awoken. Estel rubbed his eyes sleepily as he stumbled slightly. Elrohir caught him, steadying him and guiding his younger brother to the fire. Elladan handed both of them a plate before getting his own.

 

Aragorn ate the food without hardly realizing what he was eating. When he finished Elrohir helped set his bed up, and he was asleep before his head hit the soft pillow. Elrohir covered his brother with a soft blanket, before returning next to the fire. Elladan raised an eyebrow in question. Elrohir nodded, “He is asleep.”

 

Elladan nodded. “I thought as much. He did well on the trail today.” Elrohir nodded in agreement, his eyes resting on the sleeping boy, who was stretched out on the blankets. “I just hope all goes well. Unlike last time,” Elladan said, leaning back against a tree.

 

“If you are referring to the incident with the chickens, that wasn’t my fault,’ Elrohir said softly, a small smile crossing his face.

 

“And I suppose the chicken barn caught on fire all by itself?” Elladan prodded.

 

“Well,” Elrohir stuttered, blushing.

 

Elladan snickered softly, giving a sigh before turning his eyes upwards. He knew exactly how to get at his brother. “Looks like it might rain,” he said softly, looking at the cloudy sky.

 

 Elrohir followed his gaze. “That might lesson the hunt,” he said softly.

 

Elladan nodded, “Let us hope that it doesn’t then,” he said, laying down on his blankets. Elrohir nodded gently in agreement, also laying down. “Besides,” Elladan added in between yawns, “I wish too see what kind of trouble you can possibly get into this time.”

 

“That wasn’t my fault,” Elrohir protested softly before falling asleep. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Three: A Fearful Night

 

 

            Evening had come along with heavy rain. Elrond watched from the window, the fire flickering in the calmness of the air. It had been three days since his sons had left, and the place seemed to be uncomfortably quiet. He gave a sigh, hoping that his older sons had remembered their coats, they would need it now.

 

His thoughts turned, memories both good and bad returning of past hunting trips. For a while it seemed that trouble had been an extra family member whenever the twins were away from home. He smiled sadly, shaking his head as he remembered some of the messages he received from other villages.

 

A knock on his door brought him from his thoughts. He knew that it was Rohden even before he turned. The Elf stood in the doorway, his eyes were serious, and Elrond could easily tell that he was trying to hide his worry.

 

“My Lord,” he said softly, as Elrond approached.

 

“What is it, Rohden?” Elrond asked gently, watching the young Elf closely, studying his eyes as if to pull forth the truth from them.

 

“There is something you should see,” he trailed off.

 

Elrond called him softly, waiting until the Elf had locked eyes with him.

 

“Tell me, what is wrong?” he asked again, trying to pass off the worry that now gripped his heart.

 

“A horse my Lord, he was injured,” once again he trailed off.

 

Elrond gave a sigh, “How was he injured?”

 

Rohden shook his head, “We don’t know my Lord, Argreyain believes that he was caught under rocks.”

 

Elrond nodded. He knew that Rohden was not telling the entire story.

 

“Who is this horse?” he asked, gently prodding the Elf.

 

“It is Estel’s my Lord.”

           

“And what of Estel? Are Elladan and Elrond here as well?” Elrond asked, fearing the answer.

 

“He is not here, only the one horse has returned. We do not of what has happened.”

 

 

*~*~*~*~*~*

 

 

            Darkness. Pain. Coldness bit at his face, stinging his eyes as he slowly opened them, blinking several times in attempt to clear his vision. It was raining, and hard. He coughed, hardly able to breath, his chest felt as if it was on fire. He glanced around slowly, trying vaguely to remember what had happened. Gently Elrohir reached up his hand and brushed the long elven hair from his face. His hand came away, stained in blood.

 

            With a moan, Elrohir drug himself into a sitting position. He felt weak, much weaker than he would ever admit too, and it angered him that he could not remembered what had happened.

 

Looking around he saw a huge pile of jumbled stones and pieces of trees mixed together, resting on the sloping hills as far as he could see. Most of the rocks looked unstable, some even rocking in the slight storm. It looked as if half the mountain had collapsed upon itself.

 

            Memory suddenly slammed into him. They had traveling down the mountain when all the sudden the ground shook as if a thousands steeds were racing by. Looking behind them they barely had any time to react as huge boulders raced toward them, ripping trees away at their roots, tearing up the soft ground. The last thing he remembered was calling out to Estel to get him to safety, before he fell into darkness.

 

“Elladan, Estel!” he cried out, spring to his feet.

 

He collapsed moments later with a cry as pain shot through his left leg. Closing his eyes, he tried to calm his ragged breathing. Once he had done so he looked over his leg gently.

A large gash raced over the top of his leg, stretching from just above his knee following down to the middle of his shin. The gash was fairly deep and blood spilled forth at an incredible rate. More in likely his knee was broken, the flesh around it had already begun to swell.

 

Shrugging painfully from his coat he wrapped it around the wound, tying it off. He looked around, hoping to see any signs of his brothers. Up the path he could see the still form of his horse in the tangled mess. He closed his eyes. The mare had been one of the best horses in Rivendell.

 

He wrapped his arms around his chest, shivering slightly. Tears pulled at his eyes at the thought of his brother’s well being. When the thought came that they may be gone, he dismissed it.

 

Pulling himself up gently he drug himself closer the rocks, looking around. He did not dare to touch any rocks, afraid to tip the already unstable mound. He moved down the path, calling out his brother’s names.

 

A slight groan brought his attention toward a large tree, halfway buried under large rocks. He scooted quickly down, pulling back rocks carefully, until he was able to see Elladan’s head and chest.

 

He dropped down next to him, checking for a pulse. He was rewarded to see that his brother still breathed.

 

“Elladan?” he called softly, shaking his brother gently. “Elladan?”

 

Elladan moaned again, blinking slowly. He fixed pain filled eyes on his younger brother, slowly coming to.

 

“Elrohir?” he stuttered. “What happened? Where are we?”

 

Elrohir shook his head, “On the mountain side, we got caught in that rock slide,” he told him softly as he began to carefully clear away the rocks that still clung around him. He realized dimly that the tree had saved his brother from being crushed, as the base of it hung over most of his body, forcing the rocks to fall to the side.

 

Elladan’s eyes widened quickly. “Estel..”

 

Elrohir shook his head. “I have not found him,” he said softly, hanging his head.

 

“We must find him!” Elladan said as Elrohir continued to clear away the rocks.

 

“We will, let’s get you out first,” he said softly.

 

Elrohir slowly edged his brother out, checking over him. The side of his face was cut and scratched, his hair clinging to the fresh blood. It looked as if most of his injuries were bruising

 

For the first time Elladan noticed his brother’s injuries.

 

“You’re hurt,” he said softly, concern flooding his voice as he gently fingered the cut on his head, then on his leg.

 

Elrohir stiffened at the slight pressure, drawing in a sharp breath. He nodded, “What of you?” he asked.

 

Elladan nodded, “I am fine,” but he bent over as a coughing fit took over him. Wiping the edge of his mouth brought forth blood.

 

Elrohir gave a sigh. His brother was hurt worse than he was showing.

 

“We must look quickly for Estel. I don’t know how much time we have,” Elrohir said.

 

Elladan nodded, standing up, but his ankle twisted under him, and quickly he sat back down, trying to lessen the pain.

 

Elrohir gently fingered his swollen ankle, “More and likely a sprain,” he told him softly.

 

Elladan shook his head angrily. “I’ll crawl if I have to, but I am not leaving Estel behind.”

 

*******

 

            Grim eyes took in the battered legs of the young gray horse as Elrond entered the stables. Sure enough it was Estel’s horse, no other horse was so small. Argreyain pulled back slightly from cleaning the wounds as Elrond approached.

 

“When did he arrive?” he asked softly.

 

“Just minutes ago my Lord, he was alone,” his tone was soft, knowing why the Lord had come. “We have no word on what has happened.”

 

Elrond nodded softly. Worry now stung his heart, his hopes had been high that something had been heard, but he knew in his heart that it was not so.

 

He rose, turning to Rohden. “Assemble riders, we are leaving within the hour. I expect you to be ready,” he said, trying to keep his voice gently.

 

Rohden nodded, leaving the stables quickly to inform some of the more talented riders. Elrond made his way back to the house, he needed to pack supplies for the journey. Who knew how far out they were? He only hoped that they were alive, and well. 

 

 

 

Chapter 4: Estel’s Awakening

 

 

 

The storm had worsened throughout the dark night. Winds tore through the wounded hillside as lighting flashed overhead. Two figures could be seen moving slowly along one side of the rockslide, their voices could hardly be heard over the fierce storm.

 

Shielding his eyes with a bloodied hand Elrohir searched the darkness with keen eyes, calling out his brother’s name. But his voice was drowned out by angry thunder above. He turned back, watching Elladan move up the path, also calling out Estel’s name.

 

Elladan fell forward into the slick muddy ground, coughing harshly. He felt Elrohir’s hand on his shoulder and he was afraid to hear what his brother was about to say.

 

“We need to get home,” Elrohir told him.

 

But Elladan shook his head. “We can’t leave Estel out here,” he shouted over the storm, shrugging off his brother.

 

“Elladan,” Elrohir grabbed his brother gently, turning him around so that he faced him. He looked no better then himself, his hair flung about his face wildly, dried blood rested on his forehead.

 

“You’re hurt. I don’t want to leave Estel out here, but both of us need help. Most of all you. Neither of us are in the condition to dig through all of that,” he said, sweeping his hand indicating the rock pile.

 

He searched his brother’s eyes, hoping for an answer. The thought of losing Estel tore at his heart, but the thought that he might lose both, it was more than his heart could bear.

Elladan, looked at his brother, “I can’t,” he said softly, his voice barely audible, “I promised father I’d watch over him..” he trailed off, trying to turn back to resume his search. But Elrohir would not release him.

 

“He will be found, we need help, if we hurry..”

 

“No,” Elladan cut him off, “Rivendell is over a day away. We can’t wait that long.”

 

Elrohir gave a sigh. “Elladan. If we hurry, we can get help sooner.” He squeezed Elladan’s shoulder gently. “He will be found.”

 

Elladan dropped his head into his hands. He knew his brother spoke the truth. They alone could not find their younger brother, and he was feeling ill. Finally he nodded. “All right then, but let’s hurry.”

 

*~*~*~*~*~*

 

 

Opening his eyes slowly Estel dimly realized that this was no dream, as he thought it was before. He could hear wind and thunder, but it was muffled, and he could see nothing but darkness. The soil beneath his face was soft, almost sand like. He gripped it between his fingers as he slowly lifted his head up.

 

His head hurt, and fingering his jaw he found it tender to the touch. It felt swollen, but it moved okay. Sitting up he pulled his legs under his chin. He felt fine other than his head, but he didn’t know where he was, and he felt cold and hungry.

 

Softly he called out for his brothers, but his small voice was lost in the wind. He cried softly, hugging his knees. Slowly he remembered what had happened.

 

His last thoughts were that of his brothers, before his view was blocked by that of hundreds of falling rocks. His horse had panicked, throwing him to the ground. Then he was lost in a world of darkness.

 

Slowly his eyes adjusted and he was able to see some of the rocks around him. Above him roots of a tree covered the small covering that had been made, the one that had saved his life.

 

He lay back down on the soft sand, hoping that his brothers had lived. He closed his eyes, his head throbbing. The night was cold and the storm was fierce, at least in here the covering kept him dry.

 

He curled into a small ball, thinking slowly as sleep overtook him. In the morning he would find a way out of the small prison and search for his brothers and his home. Until then he had to survive through the night.

 

 

 

Chapter 5: A Strange Village Indeed

 

 

Morning sunlight settled on Estel’s face, causing the small boy to slowly open his eyes. He yawned, despite the soreness that was still in his jaw. He glanced around taking in his surroundings.

 

The rockslide had formed almost a cave like structure, imprisoning him inside. The tree above him was large, half supported by the rocks underneath and half supporting rocks that had fallen on top of it.  Next to it was a small gap, maybe he could squeeze through.

 

Estel rolled quickly to his feet, reaching upward. His small fingers brushed the bottom of the tree, and he grasped on a branch. With a slight jump he pulled himself up with some effort. He had strengthened his upper body strength from climbing with the other elven children.

 

The gap was barely wide enough for him to get through. He slid down the loose rocks, dropping onto the ground. Looking around quickly Estel found himself in a whole new area, one he had never seen before. Dimly he realized that he must be on the other side of the hill.

 

Which way was home? He looked around, but it was no use. The rockslide had totally turned him around.

 

He gave a sigh, sitting down. He buried his face in his hands, crying softly. His stomach growled, he had not eaten since yesterday afternoon. Lifting his head up he searched the edges of the rock side quickly, hoping maybe to find a stray pack. But no such luck was found.

 

Estel pushed himself warily to his feet. He may as well start walking. He had learned some time ago that crying would not help anything. Wrapping himself in his dirtied coat, he made his way down the hill. Little did he know that he was headed in the wrong direction.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*

 

 

Elrond tended the fire, lost deep in thought. Worries raced through his mind, thoughts that he may never see his youngest son again tore at his heart. He could remember clearly.

 

Five including himself had left Rivendell near morning time. They had traveled near a day, with no sign of the three when in the distance two forms could be seen near a small fire. They had approached to find Elladan and Elrohir.

 

Both the twins were in bad shape, Elladan was not even conscious. It had been the only thing that had stopped them in their journey. Tear of relief streamed down Elrohir’s face as his father had pulled him into a warm embrace, and quickly he stuttered what had happened. There was no sign of Estel.

 

No sign of Estel.

 

 

Elrond and Rohden had carried the twins back, while the other three went on to search for Estel. It broke the Elven King’s heart to leave the fate of his youngest son in the hands of others, be he knew that he had to get his sons home and care for them as quickly as possible.

 

Both the twins had been treated, and now resting. Elladan still had not awoken, and Elrohir had also lapsed into unconscious. In time both of them would be fine. But he was still needed. Otherwise he would have gone searching for his youngest son.

 

He gave a heavy sigh, moving over to the beds that held his injured sons. Placing a large hand of Elladan’s forehead he was relived to see that his fever had dropped.

 

Elladan had mostly bruising, along with a sprained ankle. Elrohir, however, had a slight concussion, and a broken kneecap. It would be some time before he was able to walk again.

 

Elrond looked out the window, wondering how much hurt Estel had taken. Was is too much for the boy to handle? Was Estel alive? Or was he…no, he would not accept that fate. Estel was alive, he knew it in his heart. Estel was alive.

 

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Estel made his way along the stream he had found several hours ago. He had already quenched his thirst and washed the mud off his face. He was still very hungry, but had yet to cross any source of food.

 

He drug his feet in the ground, billowing dust in the air. He was tired from walking, and his jaw now ached severely. He rubbed it gently.

 

Suddenly a rabbit bounded out from the bushes, racing in front of him. Estel wasted no time in chasing it. If he could catch it, perhaps he could build a fire and cook it. The rabbit led him on a fine chase, up one hill, down another, through a thorn bush, and across the shallow river. Finally it bounded into the safety of its den, and Estel now found himself even more lost that he was before, if that was possible.

 

He kicked the ground in frustration. “Stupid Rabbit,” he yelled, crossing his arms. Sticking his tongue out toward the hole in last satisfaction he turned and continued his lonesome journey.

 

He had traveled a little while longer when he suddenly saw a village settled in front of him. It was a strange village, one he hadn’t seen before. He had been to villages near Rivendell, traveling with his father sometimes. Still it was a village, and he made his way quickly to down the final hill.

 

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

It was near afternoon when Estel finally reached the village. Buildings lined up and down the dirt roads. Trees hung on the outer edges and the river made it’s way around the main part of the village.

 

Many of the villagers were outside, and he immediately recognized them as elves. He found it strange, for he had not heard of any other elven villages besides Rivendell and Mirkwood, and this certainly was not Rivendell. Had he traveled all the way to Mirkwood? That was impossible wasn’t it?

 

The elves stared at him as he passed by, making him shift uncomfortable. To the side he saw one that seemed to be friendly, and made his way toward him. He was halfway their when shouts caught his attention.

 

A group of elves were racing in his direction, shouting and pointing. Estel looked behind him, but saw nothing. He turned around again, thoroughly confused. It was then he realized that the elves were racing after him.

 

Quickly he turned and ran, but he was no match for the fair beings. The quickly caught him, throwing him harshly on the ground and pulling his hands forcefully behind his back. A fist caught him in his jaw, adding to the already tender flesh. A dagger was drawn and placed against his neck, the cold steel biting softly into his flesh.

 

He turned a frightened look upward as a tall, dark-haired elf approached, his eyes blazing with fury as he drew his weapon

 

 

 

Chapter 6: Many thoughts

 

 

            It was early morning when Elrohir woke, casting blurry eyes around the room. He could see Elladan in the bed near the door, just a short distance away from him. He groaned slightly as he sat up, rubbing his pounding head softly.

 

“Rest Elrohir, you are still not well.”

 

Elrohir turned as his father walked up besides him, gently pushing him back down.

 

“Ada?” he whispered softly.

 

He vaguely remembered being found on the hillside, and had remembered nothing of the trip home.

 

The elven king gently hushed his son as he wiped his forehead with a warm cloth. “It’s all right, your home now.”

 

But Elrohir shook his head. “Estel..” he whispered softly.

 

Elrond placed gentle fingers on his lips, “Just rest, everything will be fine,” he told him softly.

 

Elrohir sighed softly as he closed his eyes, slipping back into darkness.

 

Elrond watched his son for a moment before returning to the window. He hoped in his heart that the words he had spoken were true.

 

“Don’t lose hope, young one,” whispered softly.

 

 

 

*~*~*~*~*~*

 

 

 

The afternoon sun was hot as the young boy struggled to lift the large rocks. Dust swirled softly around his ankles as he stumbled slightly. Estel’s throat was dry, and his head swam from the heat.

 

Dropping the rock down Estel rubbed his throat softly. A small scratch still remained on his throat from the knife they had place against his throat. He could still hear the harsh spoken words.

 

He had been forced to work, mortals were not welcomed here in the village. He came to find out that he was not the only mortal there. There were a whole handful of kids here that had been forced to work. At night they were locked in a cell below ground.

 

He glanced around, checking to see if the guard had left his post, but no such luck. The elf still sat on the large rock, staring up in the sky. His blonde hair settled around his back, his blue eyes were passive as he gave a sigh. 

 

Estel turned back to his work, lifting yet another rock to move it out of the way. The elves were going to turn this large patch of dirt into a garden, and it was his job to clear the rocks from it.

 

He had been working for several ours now, and he started to feel dizzy. He swayed, stumbling as he fell to his knees. To his right the elf jumped up from the rock a quickly strode toward him as Estel struggled to stand.

 

A firm hand grabbed his arm, pulling him up and before he could pull away a flask was pressed to his lips. He swallowed the liquid automatically, without question. It took him a moment to realize that it was water he was being forced to drink. The elf waited until he was sure the young boy had his feet under him before letting him go.

 

“Get back to work before someone else sees,” he said softly, before making his way back to the rock.

 

Estel watched for a moment longer before obeying, the water slowly refreshing him. He gave a soft sigh of relief as his thoughts turned inward. He missed his family, and wished that he could go home. If only the elves would let him. He wondered what they were doing, and he hoped dearly that his brothers were all right.  

 

He shook his head, moving the hair from his eyes. Only time would tell, he told himself quietly. It was something Elrond had told him many of times. Only time would tell.

 

 

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

 

 

Night had fallen and the slaves had locked in their cells. The elf that was walking down the corridor shook his head at the thought. He did not agree with the others on their thoughts on the mortals. He believed that mortals could be good, but despite what he said, his thoughts were always looked down upon.

 

“Where are you going?”

 

The elf stopped as another walked up besides him. The elf, unlike him, had dark hair, his eyes carried the same blue color as his did. Despite the differences between them, the two were brothers.

 

“What do you want Andoliel?” the elf asked softly.

 

“I saw what you did today,” Andoliel stated.

 

The elf stiffened slightly. He remembered what had happened last time he had broken the rules by helping a mortal. He closed his eyes as painful memories slowly floated through his mind.

 

“I care for you Caycayal, but I cannot save you from your own foolish mistakes. Your lucky no one else saw you,” Andoliel warned his brother softly.

 

Caycayal nodded, and continued down the hallway.

 

“Your heart is too soft my brother. I warn you, stay away from them. They have no hearts, they ruin beauty and life, and I don’t want to see them ruin you too. I will keep this incident quiet, but I cannot promise you that I will next time.”

 

Caycayal stopped and turned, but the hall now stood empty. He could not forget what had happened last time, he never wanted to face the pain and torture again. He shook his head, trying to clear the memories of his past out, but could not. He doubted that he would ever be able to. His heart stood empty, just as the hall before him. And he felt that his heart would always be empty.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 7: The Search Begins

 

 

 

            With a heavy sigh Estel dropped down onto the small mat that had been provided for him. Around him he could hear the other children talking quietly, and he shook his head slightly. How did they have they energy to talk?

 

            Besides his mat was a small tray with food. All that was there was a sandwich, an apple and a glass of water. Touching the bread softly he found it hard. The edges of the bread had turned slightly green in color. Lifting the two pieces apart he found a small slab of cheese thrown inside. He made a slight face as the rotting odor floated into his nostrils.  

 

Casting the sandwich aside he picked up the apple. It seemed to be fine, and a small bite proved him right. Slowly he ate the apple, as if he had not enough strength. Once finished he drank the water that was provided and lay down, closing his eyes.

 

He was almost asleep when a slight tap on his shoulder disturbed him. Opening his eyes he saw a boy, older than he was, watching him.

 

“What?” Estel asked, wondering what was so important that the boy had to keep him awake.

 

“Are you going to eat that?” he asked softly, indicating the sandwich that still sat on Estel’s tray.

 

Estel shook his head softly, and the boy snatched it up quickly, taking a quick bite out of it. Estel grimaced at the boy’s actions. How hungry could someone have to be in order to eat rotten food willingly? It was the last thought he had before sleep took him.

 

 

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

 

It was not long before the twins were up on their feet again. Elladan insisted that they go looking for their younger brother as soon as he could stand. Elrond could only laugh at his son’s persistence, but it was with a heavy heart.

 

Nearly a week had passed since the incident, and their still had been no sign of Estel. For some part it showed that Estel might very well be alive. After all his body had not been found, and that gave the smallest amount of hope.

 

As soon as he was sure that his sons were fine, he allowed them to go. Now that he was not needed, he too left in search for his youngest sons.

 

“Check with the nearby villages, perhaps he has wandered their, or someone found him, and brought him home with them.” Elrond told them.

 

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Elladan said softly as he and his brother left Rivendell. “If Estel found his way to one of the villages, wouldn’t someone have brought him back to Rivendell? Or at least notify us if he was found.”

 

Elrohir nodded, “Yes, that does seem odd. But you must remember that he is still very much a youth and most people do not believe in young tongues. Besides, he could be anywhere.”

 

“Yes, I know. Let us go find him, and keep our hopes high throughout the day. The sun shines bright, let us make haste.”

 

 

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

 

 

Estel woke in sometime in the night to quiet voices. He opened his eyes and sat up slowly, his entire body was on fire, and his muscles throbbed in irritating pain.

 

The kids in the corner saw his movements and invited him over quickly. Glancing out the small window he could see that dawn was near.

 

He stumbled over and sat down besides the other three, holding his swaying head in his hands.

 

“You’re the new kid huh?” one of them asked.

 

Estel nodded, lifting his head up.

 

The girl next to the first kid spoke up. Her hair was a dirty brown and hung around her shoulders, and she carried a solemn smile. “You get used to the work after a while, it’s what we were made to do.”

 

Estel glanced at her slowly, “Who told you that?”

 

“Them,” she answered, shrugging her shoulders as if it was an obvious question. “My name is Rehana, and this,” she said, sticking her thumb at the boy next to her, “Is Tyson.”

 

“And I am Jovel,” the third one said.

 

Estel nodded softly, reaming quiet until he noticed the three pairs of eyes watching him. “I’m Estel,” he said quickly, blushing when he realized what they were waiting for.

 

Any further conversation was interrupted when the door swung open.

 

“All right, wake up. Time to get to work.” The guard yelled, roughly pulling a few sleeping children to their feet.

 

“Meet us tonight, we have things to talk about, we must not be seen together, it will only land us in more trouble,” Rehana warned quietly as she quickly departed. The others followed her suit, Estel following only moments later.

 

Tonight they would talk. Then perhaps he could learn a little more of his fate.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 8: Memories

 

 

 

 

          Estel had worked the small shovel into the hard ground until his fingers screamed in agony, still it was early in the morning. He was thankful that a light mist had continued throughout the morning, washing away most of the heat that would normally be there. He gave a sigh, striating up, watching birds fly over head.

 

He was startled when a hand was placed on his shoulder. He jumped lightly and turned to see the Elf who had helped him a few days before standing next to him. His fair gaze searched the area around them quickly, as if looking for someone. Once satisfied that they were alone the Elf motioned for him to follow.

 

Curious and somewhat frightened Estel quickly dropped the shovel and followed the departing Elf. He led him into the nearby woods, quickening his pace when they got deeper into the forest. Estel had to run in order to keep up with him.

 

He broke into the clearing moments after the Elf had, but he was gone. Estel searched the treetops quickly, knowing how agile Elves could be. But they lay empty. Frowning he calmed his heavy breathing, listening intently for a sound that would lead him in the direction the Elf had gone.

 

“Looking for someone?”

 

The question caused Estel to jump. He turned around quickly to see the Elf standing behind him. He shook his head in disbelief. “But how?” he asked quietly.

 

The Elf just laughed, walking toward him. “Don’t worry yourself about it too much young one. You did well for a mortal. Who taught you to move in such a way?”

 

“My father, and brothers,” he replied, watching the Elf approach.

 

“You still have a family,” he stated. It was a statement, not a question.

Estel gave a sigh. “Yes, though I do not know if my brothers are alive.”

 

“So tell me young one, what is your name?” The Elf asked, changing the subject.

“Estel..” he said softly.

 

The Elf’s eyes deepened. “An Elf’s name? Who gave you that name?”

 

Estel hesitated for a moment. He was unsure of whether or not he should tell the Elf about his adoptive father, or if he should keep silent about.

 

Choosing his words carefully he spoke again. “Elrond.”  The Elf did not need to know that Elrond was also his father.

 

“Lord Elrond?” the Elf asked, studying the child.

 

Estel nodded.

 

“You have…spoken with him?”

 

Estel nodded again.

 

“Do you know him well?”

 

Once again, Estel found himself nodding, though more slowly. He was starting to fear that he had said something wrong.

 

“Are you his son,” the Elf asked after thinking for a moment.

 

Estel’s wide eyed glare caused the Elf to laugh helplessly.

 

“I figured,” he replied once he had stopped laughing. “I had heard the Lord Elrond had claimed a mortal as his son. You seemed too graceful and thoughtful for you age to have lived with mortals. Once you mentioned that you knew Lord Elrond, that is when I was sure,” he said, quickly explaining to him.

 

“I am Caycayal,” he said, introducing himself. He reached above him to a branch, snatching a couple pieces of winter fruit from the limb. He tossed one easily to Estel, biting into his own. “Come,” he said, “Follow me.”

 

Estel followed once again, now able to walk since Caycayal stride had slowed massively.   They walked in silence until Caycayal had led him to a small pond that was fed by many small waterfalls. At one side of the pond the water had pushed it’s way over the bank and was slowly creating a tiny stream.

 

With an easy leap Caycayal landed on the top of a boulder that sat in front of the pond. Estel followed at a slower pace. He sat crossed legged, finishing the rest of the sweet fruit. Above them the sun was breaking through the clouds, mixing with the light mist from the waterfalls, creating small rainbows that seemed to dance in the air.

 

“This is my favorite spot,” Caycayal said, watching the colors wave gently in the air before disappearing. “When I was younger, just a few decades, my mother and I would walk here in the early mornings, before everyone else would wake up. The two of us would sit up here, and greet the morning light of the sun, or the Earth-Candle as she called it,” he said gently.

 

“This is the best spot to greet the sun. The light shines directly on the rocks that the water rolls down, turning them a wave of colors. But it is only in the early morning that this happens, it lasts for only minutes, then it is gone until the next day.”

 

“My father had died before I was born, leaving only the two of us, and my brother. But he is far ahead of me in years, and he cared little for our mother. She would often spend much of her time with me. She taught me many things young one,” he said, turning to Estel, “She once told me that kindness is a language the deaf can hear and the dumb can understand.(1) She always held true to that.”

 

“What happened to her?” Estel asked softly.

 

Caycayal gave a heavy sigh. He closed his eyes as memories slowly came back. “It came to a point in time that the others did not trust her. They claimed that she used dark magic and that their lives were in danger as long as she was allowed to draw breath. One night they cast our house ablaze, planning to kill both of us.”

 

“We were lucky, for we escaped unharmed. But as soon as we escaped, they took us captive. My mother begged for them to spare my life. I don’t know, I think they feared her, they were afraid that if they didn’t do what she asked, she would come back somehow, and claim revenge. So her wish was granted. I would of very well of gone with her, but my brother would not let me.”

 

Estel watched him with surprise and disbelief lining his face. “But how could he do that? Why didn’t he do anything to stop them?”

 

Caycayal shook his head sadly, “I already told that he did not care for my mother. He believed what the others had told him. I begged with him to save her, or at least let me go with her to the end. But he wouldn’t listen. I blamed him for her death years afterwards, but one morning I woke up early, before the sun had risen, and I snuck out here, and greeted the sun.”

 

“It was then, when the sun shone off the black rocks, turning them a wave of colors, that I remembered what she had said the last time I saw her,” he lifted his head up, letting the soft rays of the sun on his face, “She said, ‘Have a heart that never hardens, and a temper that never fires, and a touch that never hurts(2). I have yet to forget that young one. It would do well for you to remember it also. Harming a soul for any other reason than protection will gain you nothing but deep wounds that you may never be able to heal.”

 

Estel nodded softly.

 

Caycayal looked at him softly. “You have questions,” he stated.

 

Estel nodded, “Why don’t you leave then, if you do not like it here?”

 

Caycayal smiled sadly, “Because there are young ones I must watch over. If it weren’t for me, you and the rest would be treated even worse than you are now. That is why I stay. I once promised myself that I would bring all of you to freedom, and a new life. I told most of them that, so they had hope to cling to, but I fear that most of them have lost it.”

 

Estel shook his head. “But why are they here? Why do they hate us?”

 

Caycayal sighed softly, “They are all orphans. Someone found them in a village as young children. Orcs had attacked their village; they were hidden in a corner of a burning house. They were all who had survived.”

 

“They were brought back here, and they have lived most of their lives here. As for why they hate them, I don’t know? Their elders taught them that mortals carried evil in their hearts. But I was taught different. My mother had a kind heart. It is what one can wish for the most,” he trailed off.

 

They stayed and talked for a time, and it was not until the sun had started to set that Caycayal noted on how late it was. Quickly the two departed from the pond, making their way back to the dry fields.

 

Estel quickly picked up his shovel and got back to work. No one had been there, Caycayal noted with relief. Before he returned to the boulder he stopped by the boy, grabbing his arm gently and pulling him closer, so that he could whisper.

 

“You must promise me that you will keep our meetings silent young one. For your life as well as mine,” he warned softly.

 

Estel nodded, locking onto his steady gaze. “Worry not, for your secret is safe with me,” he promised.

 

Caycayal smiled, nodding his thanks before departing to the side.

 

 

(1)  “Kindness is a language the deaf can hear and the dumb can understand.”—Seneca

2 “Have a heart that never hardens, and a temper that never fires, and a touch that never hurts”--- Charles Dickens

 

 

*~*~*~*~*~

 

Chapter 9: Find the lost one

 

 

          When night fell Estel found himself with the other children he had met earlier in the morning. The trio sat in the same corner as before after they had eaten their small meals.

 

Rehana nodded a greeting to Estel as he sat down. Cautiously she glanced around, seeing if the guards had left. Once satisfied she turned back. “There are others coming,” she whispered softly.

 

Jovel and Tyson exchanged glances. “Are you sure?” Jovel asked softly.

 

Rehana nodded.

 

Estel watched the exchange curiously. “Who is coming?”

 

Rehana shrugged her shoulders. “Either men or Elves from a different village. I overheard one of the guards talking about it. They should be here in a few days. The Elves are planning to lock us down here in order to keep us from being seen. This is our chance,” she whispered softly.

 

Estel shook his head. Rehana wasn’t making any sense. “What do you mean it’s our chance?”

 

Rehana gave a sigh, turning a pleading look toward Estel as if questioning his intelligence.  “We might be able to get free.”

 

Jovel shook his head. “No, not if they’re elves,” he said quietly. He gave a heavy sigh, “If they are Elves, then we will only get ourselves into more trouble. I don’t want to go through something like last time.”

 

Tyson nodded his head in agreement. “Jovel right. We can’t risk something like this unless we know for sure it is Men who come, and not Elves.”

 

“What’s so bad about Elves,” Estel asked quietly, fingering his sweater that now was beginning to unravel.

 

All three turned huge eyes onto the small boy.

 

“What do you mean what’s so bad about them?! Look what they’ve done to all of us, to you!” Rehana cried out.

 

Estel felt as though he had been slapped. He shook his head denying it. “Not all Elves are the same,” he said fiercely.

 

“How would you know?!” Rehana cried out. Tyson placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her down.

 

“I know because I know other Elves, Elves that I have met before,” he said softly, not wanting to state that he had grown up with a race the kids seemed to automatically hate.

 

Rehana shook her head. “You lie.”

 

“I never lie!” Estel cried out.

 

Before any one could stop her, Rehana had lunged at Estel, and the two found themselves in a wrestling match on the cold floor. Estel tried to gently ease her off, he didn’t want to hurt her, but he didn’t want her to hurt him either. She was surprisingly strong for her age. But he was stronger.

 

Using a little more force than he wanted, he pushed her off. Tyson and Jovel each tried to grab an arm but Rehana wouldn’t let them as she swung a closed fist toward Estel’s head.

 

He easily ducked out of the way, but it was what Rehana was expecting, and she easily countered the move, and landed a fist under his chin. Estel moaned softly as pain raced through his healing jaw. Instinctively he threw a fist back toward his attacker. It had been something that Elladan and Elrohir often taught him, and if he knew what he had been doing, he would have stopped himself, but he was unable to.

 

His fist caught her in the nose, and she cried out, bending over as she covered her face protectively with her hands.

 

Estel scooted forward quickly. “Rehana? Are you okay?” he asked quickly.

 

The response he got was a hard punch in his mouth, his teeth splitting his lip bottom lip.   He could taste fresh blood on his tongue.

 

By that time Tyson and Jovel were able to get a hold of Rehana and kept her from continuing the fight. Fresh blood trickled from her nose, and she wiped it clean with the sleeve of her dirty shirt. 

 

Any confrontation that might have started was immediately stopped when the door flung open, and several guards came in. Rehana’s eyes opened in fear and she scooted back as they approached.

 

One of the guards grabbed Estel roughly by the arm, dragging him to his feet. The other followed suit with Rehana.

 

“Causing trouble, are you?” one taunted. “Why don’t we show them what happens to trouble makers.”

 

The other nodded in agreement, and they left dragging the two out. One of the guards turned before leaving, his eyes settling on Jovel and Tyson.

 “You two cause any of this?” he asked roughly.

 

Tyson and Jovel quickly shook their heads.

 

“Good, now get to sleep. All of you!” he yelled at the kids who had woken up in all the commotion, as he left the cell, locking the door behind him.

 

 

 

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

 

 

 

Estel shivered, leaning against the rough bark of the tree he had been bound to. The skies had opened up, and rain along with an icy wind blew through the silent forest.

 

Silent tears slid down his bruised and already wet cheeks as he tried to bury his head into his arm in order to block out some of the rain. He was soaked thoroughly, and the rain showed no signs of letting up soon. 

 

The guards had not been light with him after the incident, and his entire body ached from the beatings he had received. He trembled slightly as the memories came back, and a sob broke from his lips, swollen from where Rehana had punched him.

 

His left arm throbbed deeply, and he could hardly move it. He could remember the sharp crack that rang in his ears when his arm was twisted sharply behind his back. Another wave of pain raced through his arm as he tried to move it, causing him to cry out. Now he knew why the others feared Elves.

 

He had spent most of his life with Elves, and he had been hurt before when playing with Elladan and Elrohir, or some of the other children, but it had been accidental. And the pain was nowhere close to what he felt now.

 

His breaths came in ragged gasps, his aching body screaming at him in pain, as if pleading with him to stop and let go. And he felt ready to let go, but something was willing him to hold on. He knew not what it was, but he wished that it would happen soon so he could leave the world of pain he was in.

 

Ahead of him a tall figure stepped in his line of sight, coming towards him. Estel closed his eyes and drew back as far as his bonds would let him as the stranger approached. Fear raced through him as memories floated back in to his mind.

 

 

Soft eyes took in the small form that withdrew, burying his head into his knees that were drawn under his chin. The boy was soaked thoroughly, rain dripped from his hair and onto his swollen brow. Blood clung to his left sleeve, and he bleed freely from one side of his body.

 

Slowly he knelt down besides the boy and withdrew a small hand dagger, reaching gently for the boy’s hands that were  bound to the tree, hanging slightly above his head. In one swift motion he cut him the ropes, freeing him, and gently pulled him into a warm embrace.

 

Pulling a blanket that he had tucked away his cloak he wrapped the shivering boy up in it, being careful not to disturb his broken arm. He pulled the top of the blanket over his head, making a small hood in order to keep the rain off of him.

 

“Estel?” he whispered softly.

 

Estel grasped the thick blanket with his good arm, pulling it in tightly around him as he leaned against the Elf in support.

 

“I’m so sorry,” Caycayal whispered softly, holding the injured child close to him. “For all it’s worth I am truly sorry. I came as soon as I heard,” he whispered, his low voice barely audible over the wind.

 

Estel could only cry as he buried his head into Caycayal’s shoulder. “It hurts,” he cried softly, gasping for breath.

 

Caycayal nodded softly. “I know,” he whispered, stroking Estel’s soaked hair from his eyes. “I know it does.” He closed his eyes, remembering when he too had gone through similar treatment.

 

Suddenly the small boy went limp in his arms, and Caycayal felt fear race through him.

 

“Estel?” he asked quietly, lifting the boy’s head up softly, afraid of what he might find. He felt for a pulse gently on his bruised neck, and was relieved to find a weak, but steady pulse. The boy had passed out. Estel let out a soft ragged breath, followed by a coughing fit.

 

Caycayal wrapped Estel in the blanket tighter as he lifted the boy up. He had to get him out of the rain and fast. He could feel the boy fading. He had to get the boy out of the rain and quickly, or he would lose him. Caycayal wasn’t even sure the boy would last through the night. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. He would never forgive himself if he lost him.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 10: Home Again

 

 

The fire in the hall burned low as the night grew on, and the Elf still paced restlessly in the hall. Rohden entered the room carrying a warm mug. He paused for a moment watching the restless Elf.

 

He had pressed the mug into the Elf’s hands before he had even noticed him. Caycayal jerked slightly as Rohden stepped in front of him.

 

“Here, drink this, it will help you relax,” Rohden said softly.

 

Caycayal nodded his thanks, taking a sip of the sweet liquid.

 

“Come and rest, you’ve had a long journey.”

 

Caycayal shook his head softly. “No, I cannot. I must know that the young one will be all right.”

 

Rohden laughed softly. “My friend, he is under the care of Lord Elrond. He will be fine. You shall see,” he reassured softly.

 

Caycayal nodded, taking another sip. When he had heard the other Elves joking on how they had beaten Estel, his heart had broken. He had slipped quietly out of the room, grabbing a thick blanket.

 

Estel had been tied to a tree, and the boy trembled in the darkness. He could still feel the ice cold skin as he lifted the boy in his grasp. He closed his eyes as memories of his own surfaced again.

 

Rohden noted the change immediately. “Are you all right?”

 

Caycayal nodded.

 

The night was cold, and Caycayal knew that if he brought Estel back to his own house, his brother would kill the small boy, and then turn him in. His only choice was to find another spot. Then Rivendell had flashed through his mind. Of course the Elven King would help, Estel after all was his son. But he feared for his own life, but he would not let Estel down again.

 

The door to the room swung open, and the Elven Lord stepped out, closing the door quietly. Caycayal watched as he approached.

 

“Estel will be fine. He is resting now,” Elrond said, answering the unasked question.

 

Caycayal let out a breath of air. “That is good to hear my Lord.”

 

Elrond nodded. “Rohden, see that a room is prepared for our guest.”

 

Rohden nodded, leaving quickly, but Caycayal shook his head, “With great respect my Lord, but I cannot. I must be going…”

 

“I would not hear of it,” Elrond said, interrupting. “You will have some supper, than dine with us in the morning before you are on your way. But as of now, we will talk.”

 

He motioned Caycayal down the hallway, into a larger room. Caycayal could see that it was a library. Books sat on shelves circling the room; several large chairs sat in each corner.

 

“I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done,” Elrond said, easing himself into a chair.

 

Caycayal shook his head. “I failed to save him in the first place. If I was only there..”

 

Elrond held a hand up to silence him. “You did nothing wrong, do not blame yourself. You saved my son’s life. But onto other matters now. You claim there are other children that are being treated in the same matter as my son was?”

 

Caycayal nodded easily. “I have pledged my life to protecting them as best I can, and to setting them free.”

 

Elrond nodded thoughtfully. “I will send my sons to see to this matter within the week. You have my word that they will be free.”

 

Caycayal nodded, a smile crossing his lips. “Thank you my Lord.”

 

 

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

 

Estel sighed softly, opening his eyes slowly. Everything that had happened to him in the last few weeks had been tiring on his small body, and felt nice to wake to the morning light.

 

He glanced around slowly, taking in his surroundings as his eyes slowly came into focus. He felt relieved to see that he was in his own room.

 

His left arm was in a sling, and bandage wound around his chest and another around his head. He fingered the cast gently, moaning softly.

 

“Estel, you’re awake.”

 

He recognized his brother’s voice, and he turned as Elrohir knelt besides his bed.

 

Smiling softly into the small blurry eyes, Elrohir gently cleaned the wound around his younger brother’s head, being careful not to irritate it. 

 

“Elrohir? What happened?” he asked softly.

 

“Don’t worry about it little brother, you're home now. You’re safe,” Elrohir told him softly, redressing the wound. Pulling the blankets up to his chin he continued to speak “Rest now, I’ll get father.”

 

Estel nodded, closing his eyes softly.

 

Elrohir paused before leaving the room, watching Estel. He was glad to have Estel back home.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

“What do we do then? The children have no homes,” Elladan asked softly, leaning against the wall.

 

Elrond looked up from where he sat. “There is a village not to far off. Take them there and see if you can find homes for them. If not, then bring them back here, and we’ll figure out something. If Estel is on his feet before you leave, I will accompany the two of you, but I do not wish to leave Estel alone just yet.”

 

Elladan nodded thoughtfully, and opened his mouth as though to speak, but was interrupted as Elrohir entered the room.

 

“Ada, Estel is awake,” he said softly.

 

Elrond watched as a smile burst across Elladan’s face. “How is he?” he asked quickly, having forgotten whatever he was going to say before.

 

Elrohir laughed, “He is tired. But he will be fine, as Ada has already said.”

 

Elladan blushed slightly.

 

“Well, let us pay him a visit shall we?” Elrond stated as he stood.

 

Elladan nodded eagerly in agreement. He would have already seen him if he had not stopped to see his father first. Now he was anxious to see his younger brother.

 

“What are we waiting for then?” Elrond asked, waving them out of the room.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

The lone Elf stood in the clearing as the evening sun dropped lower in the sky. He had been infuriated at the mortal’s escape, and angered even more when he received news that one of their own may have been involved.

“Kaytar,” the voice sounded, calling his name, “Caycayal has been spotted coming down the hill sir,” the guard said, stepping up next to him.

 

Kaytar nodded.  “Make sure he does not get away. Bring him to me unharmed, he has much to explain before he dies.”

 

 

 

 

Chapter 11: No Matter How Bad Things Are, Things Can Always Get Worse

 

 

 

“You swear by your lives that no mortals are being held here?” Elladan questioned in a soft, yet demanding tone.

 

The Elf nodded, “I can assure you that there are none. Feel free to search the area if you do not believe my word,” he said, waving his hand toward the village behind him. 

 

Elrohir gave him a quick glance. For some reason he did not trust this elf. They had followed Caycayal’s directions fully. Yet when they arrived and requested his presence, they had claimed that they had never heard of such an Elf, and assured them that they knew nothing. Still he had an eerie feeling, as if he was hiding something. But his words were strong, and he seemed sincere.

 

With a nod toward the Elf, Elladan turned his steed around, motioning Elrohir to follow.

 

Once away from the village Elrohir let out a heavy sigh. “It doesn’t make any sense,” he said quietly, the wind playing gently with his black hair. “It seems as if he’s hiding something.”

 

“That’s because he is,” Elladan said, slowing his horse down. A quick look over his shoulder seemed to satisfy him, and he turned his horse to his right, leading the horse off the path.

 

Quickly Elrohir followed, curious by his brother’s sudden actions. “Elladan? What are you doing?”

 

Elladan signaled for him to be quiet as he dismounted, making his way silently through the forest, edging closer to the village. Elrohir followed in the same manner, and the two soon found themselves crawling in the low brush in order to stay hidden.

 

Pushing through a large tangle of overgrown weeds, Elladan pushed himself onto his stomach as he peered over the edge. As he expected, the path he had chosen had led them straight to an outcropping that lay almost directly above the village.

 

Searing the area he quickly spotted the Elf that had met with them, Kaytar. Kaytar was not a Lord, nor a king, but he was indeed the leader of the small village. Kaytar made his way through the village, another Elf trailing after him. He watched the two disappear around the bend.

 

Quickly backtracking, Elladan led Elrohir through yet another maze of tangled weeds, being careful not to make too much sound, if at all possible none. Quickly he scanned the area, but it was empty. With a frown, he scooted back, and continued along the outcropping further, stopping to listen every once and a while.

 

Suddenly he heard voices, and pushed himself as far as he could go without being seen. He couldn’t see anything, but he recognized Kaytar’s voice as he spoke.

 

“This is not good Goereafehieo,” he said softly, “That Elf has spread word, now we have Rivendell on to us.”

 

“I do not think so,” Elladan assumed that it was Goereafehieo who had spoken up, “I believe that you convinced them that they had the wrong village, you did well.”

 

“Yes, but it still angers me that he betrayed us,” Kaytar said, his voice rising, “And for what? Mortals do not deserve to live. They should all be killed if you ask me, put them out of their misery. They do nothing but destroy what we find most precious, because of their greed. It sickens me.”

 

“Don’t worry, he won’t be able to cause anymore harm, the guards have taken care of him, as you requested” Goereafehieo said calmly.

 

Elladan and Elrohir exchanged uneasy glances. There was more going on here than they thought.

 

“Good, come let us go. There are things that must be done,” Kaytar said.

 

Suddenly a step could be heard behind them, as the fall of a foot snapped a twig. Elladan had no time to react as the hilt of a sword smashed into the back of his skull, dropping him into blackness. Elrohir however was luckier as he was able to gain his footing before the first attack fell.

 

Drawing a sword he found himself face to face with several Elves, each bearing a weapon of their own. He blocked each move they dealt him, but they gained up on him easily, and Elrohir found himself running out of room. He glanced uneasily behind him. The ground below was a drop, and he knew that if he fell, broken bones would be the least damage he could wish for. 

 

With a groan Elladan opened his eyes, taking in the situation. Slowly he pushed himself to his knees, but before he could draw a weapon three of the Elves had bound his arms behind his back. A foot caught him in the side of the ribs, and he bit his lip to keep him from crying out as pain lanced through his side. Repeated blows to his side forced a cry from his lips as he tried to twist away.

 

Hearing his brother cry, Elrohir turned to see one of the Elves kicked him sharply in the face, just below his right eye. “Elladan!” he screamed his brother’s name out as he saw him go limp.

 

The distraction was costly as the Elves moved in on Elrohir, swinging a fresh blade at him. The knife caught him in the side, and he gasped in pain, pulling away, but another Elf grabbed him by his wrist, twisting his arm so that he was forced to drop his weapon. The knife was ripped from his side, causing him to cry out.

 

Elrohir struggled against the hold, trying desperately to pull away. Frustrated at Elrohir’s attempts, one of the Elves thrust a fist toward him, catching him under the chin. Elrohir’s head snapped up at the sudden blow as spots danced before his vision.

 

Taking a deep breath Elrohir tried to calm his racing heart as he blinked several times, trying to clear his vision. He did not want to leave his brother, but he knew he had to find some way to send for help, otherwise the two of them more in likely would die.

 

Twisting sharply Elrohir pulled painfully out of the grasp that held him, breaking past the unsuspecting Elves. He found himself racing down the slopes, toward the horses, but came to a halt to find them gone. Dimly he realized that the Elves must have taken them in order to erase any attempted escapes.

 

It was not long before the Elves caught him, forcing him to his knees. Wasting no time they bound his hands behind him. One of the Elves grabbed a handful of his hair, forcing his head back. A bloody knife rested against his throat as he looked up into the eyes of the Elf that held him captive.

 

He breathing was ragged as he gasped for breath, his side screamed at him in pain, and his heart twisted in fear.

 

The Elf that held him smiled cruelly, “Spying earns you death in Oppaco, but perhaps we can make an arrangement for you.” 

 

Elrohir closed his eyes, his heart trembling in fear, but he refused to show his captors that he was afraid as they drug him to his feet. He could only hope that somehow, he would be able to survive whatever it was they had planned.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 12: Time of Recovery, Time of Loss

 

 

 

 

Under the care of Lord Elrond, Estel had recovered quickly from his wounds, and he didn’t seem to be bothered by what had happened. Elrond had found himself  losing the battle against when Estel was well enough to move about, for Estel had chosen that time himself.

 

Trinea and Corean had come to visit him, and the three sat in sitting room, playing with a handful of toys Estel had drug out of his room. Elrond took great care in moving through the area, stepping over books and small balls that had rolled around.

 

“My Estel,” he said softly, sitting down, “You’ve certainly have redecorated the floor.”