Chapter Two

Elrond went down to the dining room for the morning meal. He frowned when he saw that Estel had not yet come downstairs. As a growing teenager, he was usually the first at the table. Elrond waited until he had finished his meal before heading up to Estel's room. He didn't want to overreact, but if Estel missed a meal, he may very well be ill. Elrond knocked on the door, then, when he received no response, he slowly opened the door and peeked inside. The room was empty. Elrond pushed the door open and walked inside. He looked carefully around the room and discovered that Estel's travel bags were missing.

He closed his eyes and leaned back against the door as the implication set in. "Oh, Estel," he murmured. "What have you done?" He pushed away from the door and moved through Estel's room, checking to see what else was missing. Some of Estel's clothing was gone, as well as his favorite knife. Wandering back to his own rooms, he looked through his collection of herbs and medicines. He had made sure that Estel knew never to travel without the supplies necessary for treating injuries. He was relieved to find a decent selection of his supplies missing. "At least he listened to something I told him," Elrond muttered. Knowing Estel's next stop would have been the armory, he soon found Estel's favorite sword missing, along with a bow and a quiver of arrows.

Erestor approached Elrond as he walked back into the house. "Lord Elrond, the cooks have informed me that some of the food they had prepared for today's meals is missing."

Elrond sighed. "That is hardly the only item missing. Estel has apparently decided to follow his brothers. From what I can determine, he is well supplied for a journey of several days."

"Shall I send a patrol out to look for him?"

Elrond seriously considered it for a moment. He was not happy that Estel had snuck off in the night, and he was more than a little worried about Estel's safety. The father in him wanted nothing more than to race out and drag his son back home, where he would be safe. But if he did that, he would be showing Estel that he did not trust him. Sixteen years was a mere blink of an eye to an elf, but Elrond had to admit that Estel was growing up. He had to allow him to grow up and make his own mistakes. He just hoped that Estel was able to return home safely. It was one of the most difficult things to say, but he had to say it. "No, do not send a patrol after him."

Erestor's eyes widened in surprise, and he nodded slowly before beginning to turn away.

"Wait," Elrond said, as he thought of something. "Please alert any patrols already scheduled to be watching for Estel. If they happen across him, they are to inform him that he is to stay with them on their route and return home with them."

"Of course, my lord," Erestor said, smiling as he turned away.

Elrond looked briefly upward as he uttered a prayer. "Ilúvatar, watch over my headstrong son; keep him safe."

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Estel woke with the sun the next morning. He quickly broke camp and had a quick meal of the food he had brought from home. After preparing his horse, he easily swung up into the saddle. He began following the trail left by his brothers' patrol. As he rode, he breathed in and enjoyed the rich scent of the forest around him and his freedom. He knew he should be catching up to the patrol in a couple of hours.

After nearly an hour, he noticed unfamiliar tracks crossing the path ahead of him. Estel frowned and stopped his horse. Dismounting, he knelt to examine the tracks. He reached out and traced his finger lightly over the tracks. They seemed to have been made by heavy, booted feet. The marks were much heavier than those made by elves, and much wider than those of most men. He was unsure of what had made these tracks, but a knot of fear began to form in the pit of his stomach. The patrol had been sent out to check for orc activity. If he found unfamiliar tracks, there was a good chance that they could belong to orcs. Looking up, he studied his surroundings carefully. The same woods that he had been enjoying moments before had taken on a sinister cast. He slowly rose to his feet and mounted his horse, then looked over his shoulder at the path back home.

He had come out here intending to meet up with the patrol, not encounter those fell creatures on his own. The orc tracks, if that was indeed what they were, overlaid the tracks of the patrol. That alerted him that the beings were now between him and the patrol. His heart quickened at the thought of meeting the same evil creatures that had murdered his parents. But if the patrol was being followed by a large party of orcs, as the tracks indicated, they could be in trouble. He wasn't sure how much he would be able to aid five very capable elven warriors, but one more fighter could make all the difference. He closed his eyes and gathered up his courage. Signaling his horse to move forward, he sent up a quick plea to Ilúvatar: keep him from being killed.

Estel rode forward slowly, keeping an eye on the woods around him, and a hand on his sword. He was ready for anything. Anything, that is, except for what he found around the next bend. His horse sensed it before he did and shied nervously sideways. Estel calmed his horse, then dismounted and crept cautiously forward, staying near the side of the path.

A chill ran through his body, and he realized that something was terribly wrong. The forest was silent, still, mourning. A sense of evil hung heavy in the air. He nearly stumbled over the first body, then drew back in horror at the evil creature before him.

Memories long buried rushed to the surface. - Beings just like the one in front of him attacking him and his parents as they traveled through the woods. - His father falling before his terrified eyes. The memories were only fragments, disjointed, but all the more terrifying for the lack of completeness. He had only been two years old when that happened. He had thought he had no memories of that time, but now he could feel the terror that he had felt then.

He shook his head abruptly to clear the memories from his mind. It was important to control his fear, to think rationally. Such emotional reactions could get him killed. He looked back at the orc in front of him and noticed the elven arrow protruding from his back. It was difficult, but he forced himself to move past the dead orc to the clearing beyond. More bodies were scattered on the ground around him. Though he did not want to, he looked at each one, at least long enough to determine if it was orc or elf. The fear was rising quickly that he would find the body of someone he knew, maybe even one of his brothers.

The stench in the clearing was nearly enough to overpower him, and he swallowed convulsively to keep down the bile rising in his throat. Breathing through his mouth, he moved from one body to the next. He saw a spot of green cloth on the ground, and his heart nearly stopped. 'Orcs don’t wear green.' The insane thought flickered through his mind, and he dashed to the place where he had seen the splash of color. He pushed aside an orc body, and saw the slim form of an elf lying on the ground.

"No," Estel moaned. He reached forward with a shaking hand and pushed the dark hair out of the elf's face. A familiar face stared back at him. The eyes looking off into the distance were glazed over. The being in front of him was long past any help he could offer. Nausea rose up in him, and he moved away, going to his knees and retching uncontrollably. When he had emptied his stomach, he moved away and sat on the ground, leaning tiredly against a tree. He gazed back at the elf, whose open eyes stared blankly at him.

"Gelmir," Estel whispered his name. Looking away from those staring eyes, he only saw more death surrounding him. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the tree. "Oh, Ada. Why didn't I listen to you? You were right. I don't belong out here." Estel couldn't help himself, and looked back at Gelmir. The elf had been a friend of Elladan and Elrohir's for over a thousand years. He had accepted Estel from the moment the twins brought him to Imladris. He had been kind and patient, always willing to answer the questions of a very curious child.

Estel brought his knees up to his chest, wrapped his arms around his legs, lowered his head to rest on his knees, and wept. He had never felt so alone in his life, so scared. The pain, fear and grief welled up inside him, and surged through him, overwhelming his mind. The pain swept over him like a wave, drowning him. He couldn't think, he could barely breathe. He lost himself to his grief for long moments, and didn't know how much time had passed.

When his senses slowly came back to him, he looked helplessly around the clearing. What was he to do now? His brother's patrol had obviously been set upon by a large band of orcs. One elf was dead, and the other four were missing. The little color remaining in his face drained away as he realized what that must mean.

His brothers were in the hands of orcs.