A/N--WOW!!!  Thank you all so much for the awesome response to chapter one.  You sure made me feel very glad to be back!  I now wish I had more time on my hands so I could respond to each and every review.  Hopefully I will still be able to occasionally. Anyway, I was really thrilled that you enjoyed the last chapter, and I hope you enjoy this one as well.  No Legolas yet, but I promise he is coming.  ^_^

Twist of Fate

Chapter 2: Unseen eyes

(10 years after ROTK)

Evening was falling like a gentle blanket upon the Misty Mountains, the sun's fading rays casting long shadows throughout the low canyons and valleys.  A lonely wind whistled a tuneless melody as it swept through the crags and narrow passes of the mountain, carrying in its twisting current small, crystalline snowflakes stolen from the highest peaks.  Spring had come forth to dance upon the lands of Middle Earth, bringing with it life and warmth, and yet the Huthaeglir, the mountains of mist, stood determinedly chill, refusing to recognize its warm touch.  Here, winter held permanent domain, and even the lower valleys and passes lay cloaked in mist and cold.  Barren and colorless, the mountains stretched on in endless miles of winding gray rock, occasionally thrusting upward into towering peaks of white snow.  Nothing grew in this desolate wasteland except a few scraggly thorn bushes and the occasional short, stunted tree, bark worn smooth by the never-ending caress of the wind.  It was a bleak place, wild and untamable, and only a handful of travelers dared brave its dangerous passes.

Elladan, son of Elrond, was one such traveler.  He had passed through the Misty Mountains on several occasions before, and knew the wild mazes of its passes better than most.  He held no fear of the mountain, only a respectful wariness.  He knew that Huthaeglir  could be treacherous, even deadly to an incautious traveler, and yet at the same time the mountain provided protection and safety to one who knew its secrets as he did. 

He crouched now upon a narrow slab of rock located high up the steep canyon wall of the Pass of Bones.  From this vantage point, he could see many miles in any direction, and could even trace the winding path of the floor of the pass over fifty feet below him.  His light brown tunic and gray-green cloak blended in with the rocks around him, making him all but invisible.  The wind swept around him in curious gusts, caressing his face and playing with the long tendrils of his dark hair.  Its mournful sigh filled his ears, almost as if the wind were talking to him, telling him secrets that were for him alone. 

His gaze was turned toward the east, his far-seeing eyes sweeping the last foothills of the mountains and even farther beyond to the Gladden fields, alive with a colorful array of bright flowers and green trees.  It was a picture of warmth and light, at odds with the chill wind that surrounded him now, still enfolded in the cold rocks of the mountain.  A bright river flowed through the Gladden fields, winding its way to the distant silver ribbon that marked the larger Anduin.  And beyond that, seen as only a dark smudge on the horizon, was the shadowy forest of Mirkwood, recently renamed Greenwood by King Thranduil.

Elladan saw all this with his eyes, but despite the beauty of the view laid out before him, it barely registered in his mind.  Instead, all his attention was focused on listening, his sharp ears straining to pick out any unfamiliar sounds carried on the wind. As he listened, he turned slowly to the West, his eyes scanning the shadows and turns of the Pass behind him, searching for any signs of movement.  A small frown was etched on his fair face, and there was no disguising the look of worry in his blue-gray eyes.

Nearly an hour passed as he stood silently, listening and watching. The sun was setting low on the horizon before he finally began descending from his high perch.  He moved quickly but silently, his movements graceful and sure with no sound giving away his position.  The shadows of evening grew heavier as he moved downward, the chill increasing even as the wind faded.  By the time he reached the floor of the Pass, the shadows and mist had increased so much that he had trouble seeing anything beyond a few hundred yards.

Darkness moved further down the narrow corridor and Elladan tensed slightly, his hand going to his sword hilt.  A moment later he relaxed as his brother, Elrohir, moved out of the mists and shadows and started toward him, their two mounts following close behind him. 

"Did you see anything?" Elrohir asked quietly once he had reached Elladan. His gaze was

 not on his twin, but on the shadows further back on the pass behind them.

Elladan shook his head.  "Nothing," he answered grimly, his hand briefly tightening on his sword hilt in frustration.  "But that does not mean there is not anything there.  My senses still tell me that all in not well.  We are being watched, Elrohir.

Elrohir abandoned his perusal of the dark shadows and turned his gaze instead to his brother.  Their eyes met, and the younger twin frowned slightly at the tension and worry he saw in his brother.  "I feel it as well," Elrohir said softly, "But perhaps it is merely the dark history of this place that has cast a shadow upon our senses.

Elladan knew what his brother was talking about.  The Pass of Bones was so named for a reason.  Before Sauron's destruction ten years earlier, the dark caves that lined the walls had been a home to numerous tribes of goblins.  The dark creatures had preyed relentlessly on any travelers found within, and sometimes those simply unfortunate enough to be passing through the nearby foothills.  The goblins had delighted in devising all sorts of gruesome tortures to test on their captured victims, throwing away the useless bones once they had finished tearing off the precious flesh.  These bones could still be found, lying forgotten in the narrow crags and twists of the path.

These same goblins had later sworn their services to Sauron, and had been subsequently destroyed after the Dark Lord's defeat ten years ago.  The few who remained burrowed deep into the mountains, and were rarely seen above ground.  Still, such horrible violence had taken place within the narrow confines of these high walls and the pass was still not completely recovered from it.  The echoes of those horrible days hovered yet in the still air, and as Elves, Elladan and Elrohir could sense the unrest of the land.

"Perhaps you are right," Elladan murmured softly, not completely convinced.  The pass had always made his skin crawl, but this time the feeling was somewhat different. He could not shake the sense that they were being watched, unseen eyes tracking their progress.  There were several high perches along the walls of the pass, much like the one he had just vacated, where someone could see the entire floor while still remaining invisible to those actually within the pass.  This worried Elladan, thus he had spent over an hour up on the narrow rock ledge in the hopes of seeing something that would either confirm or allay his fears.  He supposed that the fact that he had not seen anything should have made him feel better, but it didn't.  If anything, he was growing more and more apprehensive by the minute.

Elladan knew his brother well and could see also the small signs of unease that Elrohir strove to keep under careful control. Elrohir felt it as well and Elladan knew he was too excellent of a warrior not to. Ever the optimist, however, Elrohir had chosen not to speak aloud of his disquiet. Despite his earlier suggestion that their worries were based on nothing, Elladan also sensed that Elrohir was just as concerned as he was.

Elladan sighed, attempting to push away his dark thoughts.  He moved to where his mare stood silently waiting and swung gracefully up onto her bare back, his gaze returning to his brother once he was mounted.  "The sooner we are free of these mountains, the better I will feel," he announced.  "If we move quickly we can gain the foothills in a few hours, hopefully before full night is upon us.

Elrohir nodded, moving to his own horse and mounting quickly.  "It will be good to be out in the open air once more," he said simply, casting a dark glance at the high walls that hemmed them in on both sides.  "If we ride through the night, we can probably reach the Western boarders of Greenwood by mid-morning tomorrow.  I wonder how King Thranduil will react to our arrival.

"Legolas' father has always welcomed us graciously," Elladan answered, only half his mind on the conversation.  He agreed with his brother however, it would be nice to be in the open air once more.  It would also be nice to sleep in a real bed again as well. 

He and his brother had just finished escorting Merry and Pippin back to the Shire after a visit to Minas Tirith, and they were now returning to the city to assure Aragorn that the hobbits had arrived home safely.  It was a long journey, but one that neither elf minded.  They enjoyed the freedom of the wild, and Elladan did not feel the need to constrain himself to Rivendell since there were strong and trustworthy elves that could run things in his absence.  Still, several months of sleeping on the cold, hard ground was beginning to make him long for the soft warmth of a real bed.  The short detour into Greenwood would be well worth the delay, and they would be able to carry any messages from Thranduil to his son, Legolas.

He turned his mount and began moving eastward as quickly as was safe for his horse in the ever-present gloom of the pass.  Elrohir followed closely behind him, his presence a silent reassurance that Elladan was not alone.  If anything happened, his brother would be there beside him.  It was the way it had always been, and the way it would be in the future.  Elladan didn't even really know what it was like to be alone anymore.  His brother was a constant companion, and Elladan would have it no other way.

The further they went, the more pervasive the feeling Elladan had that they were being watched.  He was now certain that his senses were not merely picking up on the echoes of the gruesome history of the pass.  They were indeed being watched, though by whom and for what purpose he did not know.  His unease was growing with each stop his horse took.  He did not know whether to be grateful or annoyed as the shadows and mist of evening grew even darker on the pass' floor.  The darkness might serve to hide them, but only from enemies actually on the road ahead.  Anyone watching from a higher vantage point would still be able to track their movements.

Elladan turned toward Elrohir in order to warn his brother to keep his guard up, but he found his twin already tense and alert, his sharp eyes searching carefully through the shadows before them.  His brother's hand was resting on his sword hilt.

They continued on for perhaps half a mile more before pulling their horses to a sudden halt.  Before them the walls of the pass widened significantly, a sure sign that they were nearing the end of the trail.  Large boulders, the relics of a long ago rock slide, dotted the floor of the pass like huge sleeping giants, forming a maze of stone.  It was a perfect place for someone to hide; a perfect place to stage an ambush.

Elladan's mare shifted slightly beneath him, her ears pricking forward curiously.  She let out a soft whinny, the sound echoing through the graveyard of rocks.  A moment later an answering whinny sounded from further down the canyon.  Elladan and Elrohir's swords rang free from their scabbards simultaneously in response.

Elladan turned to speak with his brother, but before he could say anything he saw Elrohir tense, his gaze locked somewhere in the maze of rocks before them.  Elladan quickly turned just in time to see several dark shadows move out from behind the rocks to form a line directly in front of them some thirty yards down the canyon.  There were eight of them in all, bearded and dirty men dressed in ragged clothing but with a cruel look on their dark faced.  Most of them carried heavy clubs, while one or two of them had long wooden staffs. They were spread out across the width of the pass, their intent painfully clear.

Elladan exchanged a quick glance with Elrohir, feeling his mare shifting uneasily beneath him, picking up on his apprehension.  The men in front of them said nothing, and Elladan and Elrohir remained silent as well, watching and waiting, their swords gripped tightly in their hands.

"Welcome, Sons of Elrond.  We have been waiting for you.

Elladan started slightly at the sound of the smooth, calm voice, and his eyes darted to the base of the canyon wall where the sound had come from.  He could barely make out the figure of a man standing deep within the shadows of the pass, his black tunic and cloak blending in perfectly with the dark stone around him.  Unlike the muscular, ragged men blocking the path before them, this man was slim and well dressed, a sword in an ornate black scabbard hooked to the belt of his tunic.  His face was narrow and clean shaven, framed by short-cut, dark hair.  His expression was calm and composed, like a man who knew he was in complete control of the situation. He was standing in a relaxed pose, his arms hanging limply at his sides, and yet there was still an unmistakable air of danger about him.  Elladan could sense darkness in the man that caused the hair on the back of his neck to prickle. 

"If you both throw down your weapons now, my men will not be forced to harm you.  The cloaked man grinned mockingly at Elladan's sharp perusal.  "I suggest you cooperate.

"Who are you?" Elladan demanded coldly, his grip on his sword tightening instead of loosening as the man had ordered.  The cloaked figure laughed softly, and Elladan got the strong feeling he was being mocked for his show of defiance.  His eyes narrowed and his gaze turned hard.

"You might say I am a friend of a friend," the man stated simply, his tone full of sarcasm and his features full of amusement.  Then, just as suddenly, his expression changed, turning cold and impatient.  "I will tell you once again, throw down your weapons.

"This is a trap," Elrohir whispered softly, his hand reaching out to briefly brush against Elladan's arm.  "This man knows who we are, which does not bode well in my mind.  Do you recognize him at all?

Elladan shook his head imperceptibly, and Elrohir's hand dropped back to his side.

"We will not simply surrender ourselves to a man who refuses to give his name," Elladan told the man calmly.  "I do not know what you wish with us, but I suggest you order these men to stand aside and let us pass.  If you do not, you may live, but only to regret it.

The cloaked man stared at Elladan for a long moment, then shrugged.  "I knew you would answer such," he replied.  "Very well.  He motioned to the men standing across the path.  "Take them," he ordered boldly, "And be sure not to kill either of them.

The men raised their weapons with a shout and charged down the pass toward the two mounted elves.  Elladan used the gentle pressure of his knees to angle his mare in the direction that would give him the most freedom of his sword arm.  Beside him, Elrohir did the same, his own positioning also serving to set up a shield to Elladan's blind side.  Their movements were calm but quick, a clear testament to how many times they had fought thus together. 

The men fanned out around them, four of them moving around behind while the other four approached cautiously from the front.  With just a slight tap of his heal, Elladan turned his mare to face those who where circling behind, while Elrohir remained facing forward.

The men lunged forward, coming in all at once, their clubs swinging and their hands grasping in an attempt to pull the two elves from their horses.  The horses were specially trained, however, and managed to shift and dance away from the attackers grasping hands, teeth bared and ears laid flat against their necks.  Those who foolishly pressed the attack were soon met by the elves' sharp swords, expertly wielded from the higher vantage point on the horses' backs.

Elladan swept his sword down and around at an attacker who was attempting to use his club as a shield while he tried to grab the elf's leg.  The sharp blade swept under the attackers sloppy defense and slashed the man's throat in one clean, lethal blow.  Before the first attacker had even finished falling, two more were leaping forward to take his place, while the third moved toward the mare's head.  Elladan swept his sword in a wide arc, and the two men charging him were forced to leap backward to avoid having their heads severed from their necks.  The third man made a wild grab for the mare's head piece, then let out a surprised howl of pain as the horse buried her teeth deep into his hand.  His cry of outraged pain caused the other two men to glance briefly in his direction, and Elladan did not hesitate to take advantage of the momentary lapse of attention.  He urged his mare closer and with a quick flick of his wrist disarmed one of the men, then angled the sword downward to cut deeply into the thigh of the second man.  They both fell back, injured but still a threat.

Elladan could hear the clash of his brother's sword somewhere close to his right, but he didn't dare take his eyes off his own attackers for even a moment in order to check on his brother.  He was fairly certain that Elrohir was doing fine, however, for the men who were attacking them did not seem to be especially skilled. 

ÔIt will take more than eight badly trained men to take us down, Elladan thought with grim satisfaction, wondering what the cloaked man was thinking of the situation now.  He doubted the man was so self-assured now that he was being beaten.

"Elladan! 

Elrohir's voice was filled with alarm, immediately dousing Elladan's rising good spirits.

"There are more of them," his brother cried, "Coming from the rocks.

Elladan made a threatening slash with his sword toward the injured men standing warily a few paces away, and then used the opportunity to glance back in the direction of the canyon.  His blood turned cold at what he saw.  Well over a dozen more men were spilling forth from behind the rocks and racing toward them, this time armed with swords and daggers as well as clubs.

Elladan barely had time to curse their ill luck when the men were upon them.  His mare screamed and bucked in anger, and Elladan began slashing back and forth with his sword, his movements more a desperate attempt to keep the men at bay than a calculated defense.  He could feel his blade cutting into flesh, but still the attackers came on, their clubs sweeping toward him and their hands grabbing at his legs.  Elladan drew his knife and slashed at a hand reaching for his leg, his other arm still madly swinging his sword in a lethal arc. 

It was no use.  They were desperately outnumbered.  Elladan heard his brother cry out in pain, but he was unable to go to his aid, locked as he was in his own desperate battle for survival.  He felt a sharp sting along his right thigh, and then he was being forcefully jerked from his horse's back, his sword and dagger still clenched desperately in his fists.

He hit the ground hard, and all the air left his lungs.  He vaguely heard a shouted command not to kill them, and then something slammed into the side of his head and the world went black.

TBC

I know, the hated three letters.  *Littlefish sits back and waits for the death threats to start rolling in*  One day I am going to write a story that doesn't have a cliffhanger ending every other chapter.  Unfortunately for you all that day is probably still a long way off.  All I can say is, sit back, buckle up, try to relax, and enjoy the ride.  Oh, and if anyone needs to use the restroom…now would be the time.