See Ch. 1 for disclaimer.

Ch. 4 The Trap is Sprung

It felt good to be among the trees again. The soothing whisper of leaves stirring in the light wind, the glimpses of birds and other small animals, and the ever present scent of nature all served to send a resurgence of energy through him. With a spring to his steps that had been missing for far too long, Legolas made his way through the trees, marvelling at the simple wonders of his surroundings. He could almost feel the strength of the trees flowing into him with each breath that he took. Perhaps this was what his healing body needed, rather than being confined to behind the walls of the palace.

"Thank you, Meldon, for suggesting that we take this alternate route. I have not realized that I missed the woods so much. I feel better already, being out here among the trees," Legolas addressed his companion. He stopped and laid a hand on the trunk of a nearby tree, feeling its life vibrate under his sensitive fingers. Closing his eyes, he smiled. He was among friends.

"Feel this tree, Meldon. It is so full of life!" Legolas enthused, pulling the other’s hand and placing it against the trunk. "Can you not feel its song?"

Meldon frowned in concentration. After a moment, he shook his head. "I am afraid I feel nothing. Perhaps I do not have the same affinity as you have with these trees."

"But you are a wood elf. All wood elves feel an affinity to trees." Legolas peered at his companion’s face. "Is something the matter, Meldon? You have been quieter than usual today."

The other elf shook his head. "No, nothing is the matter. We should be on our way or we will have little time to visit with the cottagers." He moved ahead of the younger elf. "This part of the woods becomes thicker and less easy to navigate. Allow me to take the lead."

Legolas nodded rather absent-mindedly, his mind and thoughts already soaring among the lofty branches of the trees surrounding him. The two elves continued their way through the thick woods in companionable silence.

Suddenly, Legolas’ quiet reverie was pierced by a sound that was not one of nature. He stopped, his elven senses pricking with anticipation. Meldon had also stopped, his hand on the hilt of his knife. Seeing the other’s movement, Legolas realized that he himself was completely unarmed.

Drawing his knife, Meldon moved back quickly to the side of the prince.

"That sounded like a signal of some sort,’ Legolas said, his eyes scanning the trees around him.

"It was," the other replied and before Legolas could move, he grabbed the younger elf by the arm and yanked him close, holding the sharp edge of his knife nary an inch from the other’s exposed throat.

Legolas let out a sharp gasp, half in surprise, half in pain. At the same time, Meldon let out a whistle of his own. Instinctively, Legolas tried to pull himself from the tight arm lock. His captor pressed the knife against his skin.

"Do not move or my knife will seek blood," Meldon ordered tersely, his grip tightening on the other’s arm.

Legolas ceased his struggling and concentrated on breathing as shallowly as he could, mindful of the cold steel scraping against his skin. The sharp edge lifted marginally.

"Why, Meldon?" Legolas asked, trying his best to keep his voice steady even as his heart pounded with painful ferocity.

"Be quiet!" Meldon answered shortly, punctuating his words by tightening his grip.

A moment later, there was a slight rustling of the trees and an elf dropped lightly onto the ground before them. The face of the newcomer was not familiar one.

"Adar," Meldon greeted the newcomer, his grip on his prisoner loosened fractionally.

The other elf regarded Meldon and Legolas for a long moment. "So you did manage to capture him. For a while, I had my doubts."

"I had to wait for the right time," Meldon said.

"The right time?" the newcomer asked. "You fool, you were followed. Had I not been here, you would not have succeeded in taking him."

"Followed?" There was genuine surprise in Meldon’s voice. "By who?"

"You cannot possibly think that Thranduil would let his youngest wander about the woods unprotected? Fortunately for you, and for us, I have disposed of the guard. Let us be on our way before more follow."

"Who are you?" Legolas demanded as he once again attempted to pull away. "What do you want with me?"

The newcomer regarded him coldly. "I am Ambartur. As to what I want with you, you will find out soon enough, my young prince. For your own safety, I would suggest that you come with us quietly." He then addressed his son, "Tie him up securely."

Listening to the other’s words, Legolas knew that his captors did not intend to kill him immediately. In a desperate gamble, he twisted his body and almost succeeded in breaking Meldon’s grasp.

"He’s getting away, you fool!" Vaguely he heard Ambartur’s cry before something collided violently against his temple and the world quickly disappeared into dark oblivion.

For a moment, Meldon stared wordlessly at the crumpled form at his feet, and at the blood that was already welling from the gash in the other’s temple.

"You almost let him got away. Can I not trust you to do anything right?" his father demanded angrily as he wiped the hilt of his knife clean of blood. "Now tie him up while I gather the horses."

"I am sorry, Adar. I did not expect him to struggle like that. Do we need to tie him still? He is unconscious already," Meldon asked hesitantly.

"He may be unconscious now, but he will wake up eventually. I will not take chances. Tie him up quickly. We cannot tarry here much longer."

xxxxx

It was the constant pain that drew him from the depths of darkness. His head pounded fiercely and pain blazed from his side as his body continuously ground against something warm and moving beneath him. A low moan escaped from his lips as he opened his eyes, or tried to. One eye remained stubbornly shut, while the other opened to a blurred vision of moving ground beneath him. He groaned again as nausea rose in his throat and he tried to rid the contents of his stomach, but nothing came up. Gagging and coughing, he closed his one eye and felt himself being pulled once again into the swirling mists of unconsciousness.

The next time he awoke, he felt himself being lifted and deposited non-too gently onto solid ground. The impact sent an explosion of pain through his body, but at the same time, he was also blindly grateful for the feel of the unmoving ground beneath him. With an effort, he willed himself to take slow, steadying breaths, forcing back the throbbing pain in his head and in his side.

Hands grasped at him and he felt himself being pulled into a sitting position. The movement sent a new wave of pain through him and he groaned.

"Here, drink." Something was thrust near his lips and instinctively, he drank and was grateful for the liquid coolness against his parched and burning throat.

"Enough, or you will be sick again," the same voice said as the water source was pulled away just as abruptly. Then he felt something damp against the fierce ache in his temple and he tried to draw away from renewed source of pain.

"Hold still while I clean your gash or you will start the bleeding again."

Legolas at last forced open his eyes. Things danced and swam in a haze before him and he quickly shut his eyes again as nausea threatened him once more. He sucked in deep ragged breaths and managed to force back the rising nausea. After a spell, he tentatively opened his eyes again and found to his relief that his vision cleared sufficiently for him to focus on the one before him. It was Meldon.

The other sat back on his heels with a cloth in one hand and a water skin in the other. "There, you will live. The gash is not serious."

Legolas shifted slightly and realized for the first time that his arms were bound securely behind him, as were his ankles. From the numbness stemming from his extremities, he must have been tied as such for quite some time now. With infinite care, Legolas turned and looked about him. They were still within the woods, but there was no sense of familiarity to these trees. Daylight was gone. They must be hours from the palace, Legolas noted with a sinking heart.

"Where are you taking me?" Legolas asked. He was surprised at the weakness of his own voice.

Meldon shook his head and offered no response.

Legolas looked about him once more. Three horses were grazing quietly across the small clearing, but there was no sign of the other elf.

"Where is your father?"

As if in response, Ambartur dropped from the trees and made his way toward his prisoner. "I am here. Fear not, you will not be rid of me that easily."

"What do you want with me?" Legolas asked.

The older elf regarded him coldly. ‘Are you certain that you wish to be told of your fate? Very well then, I am delivering you into the hands of a certain group of Easterlings."

Legolas felt his heart drop. "Why? Why are you delivering me into the hands of Men? What do you hope to gain?"

"Gain? I have nothing to gain. I merely wish to get back what is mine. They have my son and have agreed to return him to me if I offer you in return."

Legolas blinked in confusion. "I do not understand. Why would Men be holding your son?"

"They want an end to Thranduil and his reign. They hold my son to ensure that I would cooperate fully with them."

"Then why have you not asked the King for aid? Surely, my adar would deal with the Easterlings in ways that they deserve and bring back your son to you," Legolas asked.

"Ask Thranduil for aid? You think we have not tried? And yet the King sends no one. We were left to our own demise. And who came to our aid when we were threatened by the Shadow? Not the King, but Men. They have offered us more help than the King and his warriors have ever done."

"And yet they hold your son ransom," Legolas pointed out.

"They will release him once I deliver you into their hands. They have no quarrel with me. It is Thranduil they want to rid of. Once Thranduil’s reign is toppled, the Easterlings will give us protection that the King was never able to provide. They will help us to conquer the Shadow that Thranduil was so ineffective in doing."

"That is not true!" Legolas cried hotly. "If not for the King, Mirkwood would long have been overtaken by the Shadow."

"All Thranduil has done is to send our warriors to their unwarranted deaths! My own son perished under your brother’s command. A fine warrior if there was one, and now he is dead! And is the Shadow defeated? No, it is creeping closer and closer, choking off the life of the settlements. The reign of Thranduil must end if we are to survive."

"You would side with Men against your own kind?" Legolas asked.

"I would side with whoever can help our kind to survive," the older elf said coldly. "And if I have to work with Men, then so be it."

"The Easterlings want Mirkwood. They will not let our kind continue living here when they have gained control of these woods," Legolas said.

"The Easterlings have helped us in the past. You know not what you speak of!"

"I know not to betray my own king and my people!" Legolas said defiantly.

Without warning, Ambartur backhanded him with a vicious blow that sent the younger elf to the ground.

"Be silent! I will not put up with such words from an elfling who knows nothing of the hardship beyond the palace walls. While you are living your life as a pampered prince, elves struggled daily to survive. While you have your own personal guard to protect you from every perceived harm and danger, we are forced to watch our children grow up in constant fear with no other protection than what we can provide ourselves. We send our children to join the ranks of warriors, only to have them killed while their own settlements stand unprotected. It is not betrayal! I am trying to right the wrongs that have gone on for far too long!"

Legolas struggled into an upright position and spat out the blood in his mouth. "You are a subject of the King. To turn against him is betrayal, nothing less. You are helping the Easterlings to defeat your own king and people. Nothing you can say can justify such betrayal!"

"You will be silent!" Ambartur struck him again, and again. With his hands tied behind him, Legolas could not protect himself from the barrage of blows and kicks that the other elf was inflicting on him. When the other’s foot connected with the barely healed wound on his side, he cried out in pain and his world once again disappeared into black oblivion.

Meldon cringed at the sound of Legolas’ cry of pain and put a restraining hand on his father. "Adar, you will kill him if you continue to beat him. We need to deliver him alive to the Easterlings."

Ambartur shook off the other’s hand angrily. "The brat needed a lesson. What knows he of the hardship that the rest of us have had to endure? Get him onto the horse. We need to be off."

"Yes, Adar." Silently, he lifted the seemingly lifeless form from the ground, frowning at the darkening bruises and the spreading stain on the young elf’s tunic. He pressed his lips into a thin line and forced away any wavering thoughts of guilt and sympathy. His young brother was in the hands of the Easterlings and he was determined to bring him back, even if it meant the certain death of the young prince. He could see no other option.

TBC