There was something calling me

To negativity

Under covering me

Shrouding every scene

I'm casting

Finger Eleven -- ‘Good Times'

Chapter VI: Memories of Darker Times

The twins had fled from the palace in a matter of moments, and though the guards pursued them, once the two had passed over the wall they were beyond their grasp. Once the initial confusion had passed several other guards rushed into the room to check on their king, who was cradling his son's head in his lap, very much glad that he was alive still. Celvandil tended to Estel promptly, dragging the young human onto a bed and checking his vital signs, at last declaring it to be no more than a mild concussion. Thranduil grinned when he heard her mutter "Careless human..." under her breath.

Legolas was alive and breathing, though his throat was bruised and starting to swell. Immediately they covered it with a bit of packed snow, hoping to ease the swelling before it blocked his windpipe.

"My liege, allow me to attend to those scratches on your arms." Celvandil said to her king, "They are inflamed."

Thranduil looked down with an expression of mild surprise, the scratches appeared as a cats after being left for a few minutes, "So they are... very well then."

While Celvandil applied a balm Thranduil mused quietly to himself, "Aidan has returned then. This is most unfortunate... I had hoped that we had seen the last of him. And if he has turned the Peredhil, one or both, into his fledglings as well..."

"Things could get very messy." Celvandil broke in, stating what Thranduil had been thinking.

 He nodded, not even realizing that he had been speaking aloud.

 "I am curious. What exactly had taken place with Aidan, all those years ago?"

"Before the war even, he had tried to betray my father, through me."

Celvandil settled onto a chair across the bed Legolas lay, leaning towards Thranduil to listen to his tale...

"Aidan, good morrow!" A young elf stood up from his seat at the empty table, touching his face in a sign of greeting, and then giving is father's close advisor and friend a firm hug.

"Good morrow my prince."

"How is the training coming along?"

"I believe that the soldiers will be ready soon."

Thranduil nodded, "That is good."

"Come, I have something I must show you... I need some approval on weaponry, and your father is busy."

"Why not ask an expert on such matters?"

"I would not disturb them with it."

"Very well." Thranduil stood up and followed Aidan out into the corridor. A few of the elves there bowed their heads to the crown prince and the king's advisor. They passed down into the passages and rooms beneath the palace, deep into the Earth to where the corridors were narrow and dank, lit with scattered torches.

Aidan opened a door to dimly lit room, and then stood back for Thranduil to pass into it, "After you my liege."

Without realizing what he was doing, Thranduil walked right into Aidan's trap, and when he entered the room the door was locked quickly and two sets of arms grabbed him from behind. One held a bit of wet fabric to his mouth, and immediately a drug filled his mouth and nose and dizziness overcame his senses. Thranduil fell, and the door opened again for Aidan to examine his capture.

Celvandil nodded when Thranduil finished his story, telling of how Aidan had tried to use him against Oropher. By the next morning, Legolas and Estel had awoken, sliding their grey and blue eyes open to find themselves in the same room still. Thranduil told them what had happened while Celvandil went to fetch them all the books and scrolls she could find that mentioned vampires. Thranduil, Legolas and Estel spent their day pouring over the books, Estel eventually falling asleep on the book he had been studying and waking up to ink imprints on his face.

Thranduil eventually left to his personal study, and then to the aerie where he attached a message to his best falcon and set her out to Lothlorien, whispering words of encouragement to her before he held out an arm to release her, "Time is of the essence. Fly!"

The falcon was soon a distant speck in the sky above the palace, and the king descended the steps again with a soft sigh. He had hoped that he would never have to deal with Aidan again, would never have to bring back those memories of his time in that horrid imprisonment.

"Before long," Aidan hissed, running a finger along the curve of Thranduil's face, "your father will come running with his army to save you."

Thranduil squirmed beneath his touch, trying his best to be strong for his kingdom's sake.

"Mirkwood will fall, little prince, and it will all be your fault."

"I beg of you to reconsider." Thranduil pleaded, "What do you have to gain from this?"

"Your father only offered me a job, the Dark Lord will give me power beyond your wildest imaginings."

"Once he has what he wants he will rid his kingdom of you. He is treacherous! The only thing he will give you is death!"

"Foolish child!" Aidan cried, his hand coming in contact with Thranduil's cheek in a harsh, slapping sound, "I will reign over my own army, my own kingdom..."

"Estel, you mustn't fall asleep again!" Thranduil was brought out of his reverie to his son's voice, commanding his human friend. "You have a concussion!"

"He speaks truth." Celvandil voiced quietly.

Thranduil smiled to himself, entering the room again, "Would you like to accompany me to the main hall for supper?"

All three nodded quickly, having skipped lunch, and followed the king. Estel and Legolas walked slowly, both leaning on each other a little.

Hopefully, Thranduil thought, the lady Galadriel would know how to help him rid the kingdom of Aidan again, and perhaps be able to find a way to turn back the twins. From what they had read if the maker would be destroyed, the fledglings would be either destroyed or turned to normal, depending upon how long they had been in their vampiric form. But how long they had, they were not certain; it could be three hours, it could be three years.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Sluggishly, Elladan came to, his brain centered on the one sound he could hear. The hollow sound of melting snow dripping into a puddle from the cave's entrance. He groaned and tried to move, squinting grey eyes at the daylight reflecting off the snow outside. It was so bright!

He squirmed, finding himself tied to a large rock along the back of the cave. Panic rose, but then he remembered what had happened. His own brother betrayed him!

Elladan continued to move, feeling queasy and dizzy at the same time. It was freezing, and he knew that he should feel that, but could not. To his horror, he saw the snow outside turning red, a sure sign that dusk was falling over Mirkwood. He watched as the sun's last light fled into the shadows, and the darkness became nearly absolute besides the eerie glow of pale snow.

Footsteps came and he tried to turn to face them, but he was tied too tightly. It was Aidan, he knew, tagged by Elrohir and the maiden from the previous night on either side of him.

Aidan raised a hand, and he felt pain erupt in his back, red hot and burning cold at the same time. Elladan's vision clouded for a moment, and then cleared. Then the hand was lowered, and Elladan turned to see a pair of black wings from his back. Strangely unaffected by this new discovery, he turned to the three vampires in front of him.

Elrohir smiled at him, revealing a glimpse of sharp fangs, "Welcome to your new life, dear brother."

To be continued...