See Ch. 1 for disclaimer.

Ch. 5 Sons and Brothers

Aldeon knelt by the body of the dead guard, his own fingers cradling the other’s cold and lifeless hand. The arrow that had pierced the elf was a Mirkwood arrow. He had been killed by his own kind. This was the same guard that he had personally chosen to ensure the safety of his youngest brother, and now the guard was dead. Fear and anger gripped the prince. There was no question now that Legolas was in the hands of the traitors.

He laid the unresponsive hand down gently and beckoned to one of the warriors. "Take him back to the palace. Tell the King that this was the guard that I had assigned to Legolas. Tell the King also that we will spare nothing to bring Legolas back."

"Yes, Lord Aldeon. I pray with all my heart that you will find the young prince safe, and that you bring death to the traitors."

Aldeon nodded grimly. "Ride back with care."

A certain solemnness had fallen upon the remaining warriors. The death of an elf was distressing enough, but when the death was caused by a fellow elf, the horror was almost incomprehensible. And yet, Aldeon could almost feel the hardening of the warriors’ determination and resolve to hound down the traitors and to bring their young prince back safe and whole. The task before them was a daunting one, but Aldeon could detect no sense of hesitancy or reserve among the warriors before him. There may be traitors within Mirkwood, but many more were still fiercely loyal and adhered to a strict code of honour. And for that, Aldeon was thankful.

"My Lord,"

Aldeon turned at the sound of the voice. It was Hesin. The older warrior had been one of the first to join this mission. Indeed, so many warriors had volunteered that Aldeon had to turn away a number of them. There had been a certain feeling of outrage among the warriors that anyone would dare to harm one of the King’s sons, especially the one son who had so recently risked his own life to save the woodland realm.

"Yes, Hesin?"

"I have searched the surrounding area. There are no signs of any struggle. I believe the killer had fired his arrow from the trees," Hesin reported. "I can make out two sets of tracks beyond here. One set is lighter than the other. Their steps were not hurried."

"Legolas and Meldon?" Aldeon suggested. "Then someone else must have killed Legolas’ guard, rather than Meldon. If there are only two sets of tracks ahead, then the killer must have continued his way through the trees."

Hesin nodded. "That would be my guess as well."

"All right, lead the way, Hesin. We will follow these tracks on foot for the time being," Aldeon ordered. The other warriors fell in line and made their way carefully through the trees, scrutinizing each bent leaf, each broken twig for clues of their quarry.

Soon they came upon a small break among the trees. Aldeon came to an abrupt stop, followed closely by his warriors. Dropping to one knee, Aldeon studied the patch of slightly flattened leaves.

"Something happened here,’ he said softly as he was joined by Hesin. "There was a struggle of some sort here." He reached out and picked up a leaf, dotted unnaturally with brownish stains. "Blood." And deep in his heart, he knew the blood belonged to Legolas.

"The young prince," Hesin said shakily.

Aldeon closed his eyes, the stained leaf gripped tightly in his fist. Legolas could not be dead for surely the traitors would not trouble themselves by taking his body with them. Blood. They had hurt his brother. Aldeon stood up.

"We are on their track. Let us move on," he ordered grimly. He gripped the stained leaf tighter. Hold on, Legolas, we are coming. You must hold on.

xxxx
Once again, Legolas was drawn to the world of waking by pain. This time, however, he could not even be certain of the source of pain for he seemed to hurt all over. Vaguely, he could hear himself moan but was quite helpless to stop the sounds. As before, he felt hands shifting him into an upright position and eased back again a hard surface. The movement brought forth fresh waves of pain and he cried out weakly.

"Here, drink some water," a voice urged, though not unkindly.

He drank gratefully from the profferred water skin. Restored somewhat by the cool liquid, he found some remnants of strength and forced open his eyes. As the figure focused itself before him, memory also came pouring back, and with it anger and disdain for the elf who was now tending to him.

"Would you like more water?" Meldon asked hesitantly.

"You would keep me alive now just so that I can die by the hands of the Easterlings?" Legolas asked. His voice, though weak, did not lack contempt or loathing.

The other elf regarded him silently for a moment before answering, "Yes, I would. I would do all that within my means to deliver you to the Easterlings. I love my brother dearly and I want him back safely." He paused and looked at Legolas unflinchingly in the eyes. "You have brothers yourself. Would they not do the same for you? And you for them?"

For a brief moment, Legolas was taken back by the other’s question. He had risked his own life to save Feren and would willingly do so again without hesitation, but would he endanger someone else’s life to save his brother? Legolas shook his head. "My brothers would not sacrifice another life to save me, nor would they betray their kingdom for my life," Legolas said with steely confidence. "And I do not expect them to."

"Very honourable, indeed. I have long ago learned that honour alone is not enough to sustain life. I have lost one brother already, who died so honourably in battle. I do not mean to lose another," the other elf said in a level voice.

Legolas wanted to say more to counter the other’s words, but weariness and pain robbed him of the strength to continue. Though his legs were now untied, his hands were still bound behind his back. His hands were beyond numb now. In fact, he could not feel them at all. He shifted fractionally and grimaced with the pain brought forth by the small movement.

Meldon watched him closely. "Your wound has reopened. I have re-bandaged it as best as I can. I am afraid I have nothing to ease the pain." He paused as Legolas again tried to shift his bound arms. "If I untie your hands, will you give me your word that you will not try to escape?"

Despite of his weakness, Legolas spat contemptuously, "I will not give my word to a traitor!" And then braced himself for more blows.

Surprisingly, the other elf merely regarded him in silence. Then still without a word, Meldon reached behind his captive and cut the ropes that bound the other’s hands. Seeing that Legolas was unable to move his own arms, he eased them forward and began to massage them, his touch surprisingly gentle.

As the blood began to flow back into his deadened limbs, the accompanying agony left Legolas gasping and shaking with pain. He clamped his lips together fiercely for fear that whimpers may escape between his clenched teeth. He would not allow himself to show weakness before the one who had betrayed him. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on his breathing, but even drawing in breath was painful. Ambartur’s beating had inflicted more damage than just the reopening of his wound. Kala and his adar would not be pleased. Then with a shock that left him dangerously close to tears, he realized that he might never see his adar or his brothers again. The full impact of his present situation suddenly struck him with mind-numbing fear and dread. He swallowed hard, but the lump did not go away. Stop it, he chided himself angrily. You will not shame yourself! You are Thranduil’s son!

Abruptly, he pulled his arms from the other’s massaging hands. "Leave me be! I do not need your ministrations just so that you can deliver me to my death!"

Surprised at the sudden outburst from the prince, Meldon sat back on his heels. "All right, but I would suggest that you rest while you can. We will be moving out as soon as my father returns."

"Return from conspiring with the Easterlings on how to bring down Mirkwood?" Legolas asked disdainfully.

"My father’s intention is not to bring down Mirkwood. He merely wishes for the survival of his family and of his fellow elves at the settlement," Meldon said quietly, staring down at his hands. "He wants his youngest son back. Though it may not be apparent to your eyes, he loves us very much."

As he listened to Meldon’s quiet words, Legolas found his anger slowly dissipating. Was Ambartur so different from his own adar? To what length would Thranduil go to to protect his own family? Legolas was certain that his adar was at this moment scouring the entire kingdom inside out searching for him and would spare nothing to bring him back to safety. But he was also certain that Thranduil would never betray another elf to accomplish this end.

"Your father is wrong," Legolas said.

"It is never wrong to love your family!" For the first time, there was emotion in the other elf’s voice.

"No, but it is wrong to betray your own kind. It is wrong to conspire with outsiders to bring down your own king. Others will die too if the King falls for there are far more than you can imagine who are fiercely loyal to my adar. They will not stand by idly if their king is in danger." Legolas shook his head. "If I were your brother, I would not want my life saved at the expense of so many."

"If your adar had been a good king, then Mirkwood would not be held hostage by the forces of evil."

"Thranduil is a good king!" Legolas protested hotly. "If not for him, Mirkwood would long be lost to the Shadow. Your brother is being held hostage by the Easterlings. They are the forces of evil that you speak of and by colluding with them, you too will become part of that evil."

Meldon stood up abruptly and turned his back to the prince. "I do not wish to speak of this further. Of course you would defend your own father, as I would for mine. I am sorry, Legolas. I like you, but I love my brother more. I have no choice in this if I want the safe return of my brother. When my father returns, we will ride out to meet the Easterlings. Rest and conserve your strength for what lies ahead. You may not find the Men as kind a captor as I."

With an effort, Legolas willed himself not to shudder at the other’s last words. Meldon had probably spoken the truth. He did not want to think what fate awaited him once he became a prisoner of the Easterlings. Death was almost a certainty, which made his stomach tightened with fear, but what frightened him even more was the fact that the men will more likely than not use him as a tool to bring down his own father. With this last thought, he looked about him in near panic. He must escape somehow! But how? He could barely sit up on his own and the slightest movement brought waves of pain that threatened to obliterate all his senses. How could he possibly escape in the condition that he was in?

He had never felt so helpless, or so alone.

TBC