See Ch. 1 for disclaimer.

Ch. 7 The Pawn

"Tie him up quickly. We have lost much time already!" The irate voice, together the sting of the rough rope once again binding his already raw wrists, brought Legolas sharply back from the depths of semi-consciousness. He blinked open his eyes in confusion while instinctively pulling back his hands from the flashing pain.

"Keep still or it will hurt even more," Meldon cautioned as he wound the ropes around the scraped and bleeding wrists, trying to ignore the grimaces of pain flashing across the other elf’s face.

‘You should not have untied him in the first place," Ambartur admonished. "He could have escaped."

Meldon cast a sullen glance at his father. "He is in no shape to move on his own, let alone escape."

"We can ill afford to take risks, not if we want to get your brother back. Now let us be off." The older elf turned toward the entrance of the shallow cave.

"Can you move?" Meldon asked as he looked at Legolas with uncertainty.

Clenching his teeth with effort, Legolas managed to push himself halfway into an upright position before dizziness and pain overwhelmed him and his legs buckled helplessly under him. He would have crumbled to the ground had Meldon not grabbed him by the arm and pulled him upright again. Biting back a cry of pain, Legolas forced his shaky legs to straighten and take on the burden of his own weight.

Meldon shifted his grip on the other’s arm. "We will have to climb down some rocks. Can you manage?"

Legolas was tempted to pull his arm away from the other’s supporting grip, but he knew that he would not get far without Meldon’s aid. "I can manage." Bracing himself against the pain that seemed to scream from every muscle, he forced his feet forward, allowing the other elf to half-support and half-pull him toward the mouth of the cave.

Once outside, he looked about him, realizing for the first time that they were atop of a rocky incline that was part of a cluster of jagged hills that rose above the barren grounds below. He eyed the rocky path before him and wondered how he was going to make it down to level ground without falling. Ambartur was already waiting for them at the bottom of the incline, the three horses shifting restlessly by his side.

"Lean on me," Meldon said, not unkindly. "I will not let you fall."

Relinquishing his pride out of absolute necessity, Legolas allowed the other elf half carry him down the rocky path. Even then, Legolas wanted nothing more than to sink down onto the ground and give in to the easy darkness by the time they reached the bottom. Instead, he felt himself being lifted onto one of the horses. He tried to straighten and found that he could only manage to rise to a half slouch over the horse’s mane. At least his hands were not tied behind him this time, he thought in hazy consolation as he gripped the silky mane, determined not to shame himself further by falling off the horse.

"Where is Uncle?" Meldon asked his father as he mounted his own steed.

"We had to change our plans. The settlement is under watch by Feren and his troops. Aldeon and another group of warriors have been tracking us for days now."

Legolas lifted his head at the mention of the names. "My brothers are here?"

"Do not let your hopes rise for I have no intention of letting them get anywhere near where we are taking you," Ambartur said coldly as he urged his horse into a quick cantor. The other two horses instinctively followed his lead.

"Then they must have found out about us," Meldon said.

"Thranduil is no fool. It was only a matter of time before he found out. Aldeon has been riding no more than a few hours behind us. Had I not ridden ahead with the horses to lead him away, he would have found you both in the cave."

Legolas felt a surge of hope as he listened to the other elf’s words. His brother was near, looking for him. Perhaps his situation was not so bleak after all.

"What do we do now?" Meldon asked his father.

"We cannot go by the way of the settlement now. Your grandfather and the other elders are being held under guard. Thranduil’s two sons are riding out in search of this one. Your uncle has ridden ahead to try to draw them away from us. We will take another path to where the Easterlings are, but we must ride quickly for we have lost too much time already."

"If my brothers are out there, you will not succeed," Legolas said.

"They know not where we are taking you. We will have delivered you to the Easterlings before they can ever get near," the older elf said with confidence.

"Cease your dealings with Men. My brothers can help you get your son back," Legolas said.

"No! I have no faith in Thranduil and his sons. My son will be returned to me as soon as I deliver you into the hands of the Easterlings. Resign to your fate, elfling, for nothing you say can deter what I am set to do."

"My brothers will find me," Legolas said with determination.

"If that should be the case, I shall kill you before they can rescue you. They will not get you back alive. If my son is to die, then so shall you."

Legolas was taken back by the venom in the other’s voice. "We are both of the elf kind. Why do you hate me so much?"

"Because you are Thranduil’s son. I want him to know the pain of losing a son as I have known it, and will do so again if I fail to deliver you to the Men."

"You cannot blame the King for the death of your son. He was killed in battle, as were many of our warriors. Your son died defending Mirkwood, and you will dishonour his death should you continue your collusion with Men."

"My son died in vain! We turn to others for help because we can no longer rely on our own kind for aid. Now cease talking or I will be tempted to give you another beating." Turning to his son who was leading Legolas’ horse, he ordered, "We must quicken our pace. Make sure he attempts nothing foolish!"

As his horse quickened into a fast gallop, it was all Legolas could do to hold onto its mane as the incessant jostling sent waves of pain through his battered body. He was certain his wound was bleeding again, and the light rain that was falling chilled him to his bones. Aldeon and Feren were out there searching for him. He held grimly onto this thought as they raced forward. Somehow he had to get away. Desperately, his mind flitted with plans of escape, but each option was defeated by the weakness of his body. He cursed his own frailty that bound him as a virtual prisoner to the other two elves. The mounting frustration over his helpless plight and the endless pain that was leaching the very life from him brought him once more precariously close to tears. He closed his eyes and hunched further down atop of the galloping horse, beseeching to his brothers in anguished silence. Please, Aldeon, please, Feren. Please hurry, for I do not know how much longer I can hold on. And I am so frightened. Please hurry!

xxxxx

He knew not how long they had raced across the land. At times he was barely conscious and he was certain darkness overtook him more than once, but somehow he managed to stay seated atop of his horse. The only thing that was constant was the pain, and the cold. As the hours waned, so did his hope of being rescued by his brothers.

"I bring you the son of Thranduil."

Those were the first coherent words that Legolas heard in a long while. He blinked open his eyes and forced himself upright, biting back the sounds of pain. He felt hands reaching for him and he was pulled off his horse non-too-gently. The same hands now gripped him tightly and propelled him forward several steps.

"This is Thranduil’s youngest, as I have promised." The hands that held him and the voice that spoke were that of Ambartur. "Where is my son?"

Legolas looked about rather wildly and found that they were now in a large clearing, surrounded by Men. There seemed a great many of them and in the dimming light of the day, a certain menace emanated from these beings that made his stomach tightened with fear. It was not the first time that he had seen Men. On two previous occasions, he had visited Esgaroth and had found himself fascinated by these creatures who in some ways so resembled the elves. He had found it exciting then as he moved amongst the humans who had seemed friendly enough and he had interacted readily with them. But now, surrounded by the Easterlings, he felt only fear. He felt as vulnerable as fresh prey being cornered by a pack of hungry wolves. Unable to control himself, he shuddered and Ambartur’s grip tightened on his arm.

"So this is Thranduil’s son." One of the men stepped forward and studied Legolas intently. The young elf lifted his chin and forced himself to meet the human’s eyes squarely, even as his heart constricted with a nameless fear. Yes, he was Thranduil’s son and he would carry himself like the prince that he was.

"Where is my son?" Ambartur repeated his demand.

The man turned his head slightly and gave an order to the one behind him. "Bring the elf." Turning back to Ambartur, the man spoke again. "You have done well. My lord will see that you are justly rewarded for your efforts."

"I seek but two rewards. One is the return of my son," Ambartur said.

"And the other?" the man asked.

"Thranduil has learned of our plans. His warriors have taken control of our settlement and my father and the other elders are held under guard. I would ask your aid in freeing them."

The man nodded. "Consider it done. I shall send some of my men back with you. And here is your son."

"Adar! Meldon!"

Legolas saw an elf brought forward, flanked by two men who held him lightly by the arms. Ambartur loosened his grip on the young prince and pushed him forward to the man who had been speaking. The latter nodded slightly and his men released their hold on their charge. Instantly, the elf ran forward and into Ambartur’s arms.

"Adar!"

"Merimon!" Ambartur embraced the elf. "Are you well?"

"I am fine, Adar," the younger elf said, pulling himself away long enough to embrace his brother.

Meldon held his brother close. "Merimon! Thank the Valar!"

Legolas watched the reunion with a growing lump in his throat, recalling the countless times that he himself had been so held by his own father and brothers. He blinked rapidly and fiercely, forcing back the emotions that threatened the composure that he was trying so hard to maintain.

With his son securely held in his protective arms, Ambartur nodded briefly to the man. "As we both have what we want, I will take my leave now."

"If you will allow me a few minutes, I will ready my men to accompany you." The man turned and instructed the two who had brought forth Merimon. "Secure our prisoner. I will deal with him later."

Legolas found himself being led away. He cast a final look at the other elves and for a brief moment, met Meldon’s eyes. In them, Legolas saw turmoil of relief, remorse and shame. Legolas held onto the other’s eyes for as long as he could and in spite of himself, felt a fleeting sense of regret as he lost sight of his former captors. He was now a lone elf among Men. The thought made him want to weep.

TBC