Disclaimer: See default chapter

Thanks to Elwen for Beta reading...

Chapter 17

Lost

Where once was light
Now darkness falls
Where once was love
Love is no more
Don't say goodbye
Don't say I didn't try
These tears we cry
Are falling rain
For all the lies you told us
The hurt, the blame!
And we will weep to be so alone
We are lost
We can never go home
(Gollum's song - The Two Towers soundtrack- sung by Emiliana Torrini)

*~*~*

Siovan stared at the elves guarding him. He was used to the role of the captive. He had learned it the hard way many years ago. 'Stay silent unless spoken to. Never look your captors in the eye and never, ever square your shoulders.' Siovan recited quietly in his mind. The lessons had been learned the hard way, but they would remain with him forever.

'I'm not really an Easterling,' Siovan thought. Nay, he was more like a Gondorian if anything. Having learned the culture and manner of the Gondor people when his 'master' had lived there for several years.

Slavery had been frowned upon when Siovan had been there, but since his 'master' had been a close ally to Gondor, Gondor could ill afford to risk the other's wrath. The people of Gondor however were a different story. They treated Siovan well, much better than any slave could truly even dream of being treated. But in the end, their kindness was the one thing that angered his 'master', so much so that his 'master' had had him flogged and thrown out of the city, threatening death 'ere he try to return.

Though many had helped him recover, and gave him food and water for his journey back to his homeland, Siovan found that he could never fully trust anyone. His trust in the human race had been destroyed, until he had returned to his homeland. He had met a beautiful, dark-haired young woman who had immediately caught his eye.

He had found out later, that he had also caught her eye. In an amazing set of 'accidental' meetings, they had fallen in love and were married. She had helped start to mend his still hurting heart and soul, loving him unconditionally. She made him whole.

When she had given his two fine, strong sons and a beautiful, dark-haired daughter, he thought his heart would never want for love again. He was wrong.

The leader of Siovan's clan had decided to join up with another clan nearly a full ten days ride away. The leader had pushed his clan to their limit, wanting to make the journey in five days, in the end; it proved to be their downfall.

While traveling in the cover of the night, they were attacked quickly, suddenly and brutally. They still did not know who had attacked them, but they had struck the clan's weakest point: the middle, where all the women and children were. Nearly all the women and children were slain, and those not slain were hauled screaming and kicking upon horses and disappeared into the night, never to be seen again.

Siovan had buried his wife, his daughter and his two sons that day. He had held his wife in his arms while tears slowly tracked their way down his dirty face. He had screamed to the heavens, begging whoever was listening not to take his wife.

He had gone crazy with rage when he had found his children in the midst of the slaughter. Many of his fellow warriors held him back while he tried to impale himself on a blade. Trying to follow the ones he loved, and who had loved him in return.

Everyone said that he had changed on that day, on that moment when he had found his wife and children. He had become an emotionless wraith that killed at will and with a fury that shocked everyone around him. But the blood, the rush in the battle was nothing compared to the joy whenever he had seen his wife, whenever he held his children to his chest.

The battle cries echoed in his heart, but they did nothing to cover the laughter of his children that echoed in his mind.

So he threw himself all the more into battle, desperate for that killing blow that would send him to his wife and children. But the more he threw himself into the battle, the more the battle with held the prize of death from him. So he stopped defending himself, leaving his back unprotected, his sides unprotected, but still not a single blade tore through the clothes. No arrow pierced his skin. It was as if fate had decreed a different end for him.

All he wanted was to be reunited with his wife and children, but not even he could do anything about it. He was constantly watched, for all the warriors around him knew he could and would take his own life at the first chance he got. So they never gave him a chance, no matter what emotional pain and agony he suffered every night.

And so he lived. He breathed. He ate. He slept. But he also waited. Waited for that one moment when he would finally see his wife and his children, and never be parted from them again.

Two booted feet placed themselves at the line of his vision. Startled out of his dark thoughts, Siovan looked up into the calm face of King Thranduil. He smiled suddenly, crazily. Thranduil could give him what he wished for. He had only to provoke him.

"What is the matter?" Siovan kept his voice smooth, despite the anticipation boiling just beneath the surface. "You found out to some extent what Sarlacc did to your son?"

Thranduil visible stiffened. "What do you mean?" He ground out.

Siovan chuckled, a slow easy chuckle that showed the elves that he did not fear them. "Exactly what I said." He replied, causally.

"Tell me." Thranduil demanded.

"No." Siovan shot back.

"You are nearer to death than you know." Thranduil said, his voice low as he calmed himself.

"Death?" Siovan snorted. "Do you really think I fear death?" He shook his head. "No, I would welcome death. But death has not welcomed me."

Thranduil studied him carefully, sensing something more than just anger. "What makes you say that?" He asked carefully.

Siovan swallowed. "I have no reason to live." He whispered. "My life is gone, all that remains is my body."

Thranduil smiled softly, he knew exactly what the prisoner was speaking about. He had felt that way many times himself. "Sometimes." He said softly. "When we seek death, we only find life."

Siovan sucked in a breath. "I have found too much life." He whispered hoarsely.

"Why do you wish for death?" Thranduil asked curiously.

Siovan gave him a bitter smile. "My life was my wife and children, they are dead, and so I am dead." He shrugged. "My body lives and breaths, but my spirit is dead. I have no wish to live, but there are others who wish it, and so I must live." His jaw clenched.

"Your son does not wish to live." He continued.

Thranduil started. "What?"

"Not after what Sarlacc has done to him." Siovan shook his head.

"What did that animal do to my son?" Thranduil demanded.

"Sarlacc." Siovan began. "Worked alone. Everyone hated him. He did strange things, things that were evil." He shuddered. "He broke people." He said quietly. "He broke their spirit, then their mind and then their body."

Thranduil took a step backward, horrified at Siovan's words.

Siovan took no notice, his gaze fixed on the floor as he continued whispering the ghastly things that Sarlacc would do to his captives.

When his voice finally fell silent, Siovan looked up into Thranduil's horrified face. The guards also looked sick.

"What kind of a person." Thranduil's voice trailed off as the full implications slammed upon him. "Legolas." He whispered.

He whirled around intent on finding his son at the corner of the cave.

"Say goodbye now." Siovan's voice echoed eerily in the cave. "While you still have the chance.

*~*~*

Lomion reeled back at the brutal admission coming from his little brother. Very few elves could be brought to such a point of weakness that he knew of. He could easily see the pain, the torment, the agony that Legolas clearly felt. It was as if Legolas had opened a window to his soul, allowing Lomion to look inside.

What Lomion saw, scared him. He turned to call for Thranduil, but found that their Adar was already heading toward him.

Lomion stood to greet the oncoming elf. "Ada." He greeted. "I was about to call you."

Thranduil nodded. "I have just been told what tactics have been used on Legolas." He said quietly.

"Oh?" Lomion questioned.

Thranduil nodded. He motioned with his head over to the kneeling prisoner, and then looked back toward Lomion.

As understanding dawned on Lomion's face, and he sank to his knees. "I would hear of these tactics." He said firmly.

Legolas looked down, ashamed of his own weakness. He knew to some extent of what his Adar would have been told. He knew because he had experience most of it.

To some extent, he had been lucky. Lucky that his Ada had attacked when he had, otherwise the Easterling would have gone even further in his desire. He shivered involuntarily, remembering so much, yet hating how he remembered. He closed his eyes in an attempt to try and flee to the darkness to escape his Adar's no, his King's probing.

Legolas knew that it would not be the loving Adar who would question him; it would be the stern king seeking answers.

"Legolas." The words were a command to open his eyes.

Forcing back all traces of fear, Legolas opened his eyes. "Yes?" He asked neutrally.

"You will tell me what happened in that tent." Thranduil ordered. "Do not try and hide anything, for I know exactly what went on in there."

"So why make me tell it!" Legolas cried out.

"Because I want to hear it from you." Thranduil ground out.

Tears formed and slowly trickled from the gray-blue eyes. "Please Ada." Legolas whispered. "Please do not make me tell."

Thranduil hardened his resolve. "You must." He said quietly, taking the pale hand into his. "And you will." He squeezed Legolas' hand as if trying to give his youngest son strength.

After a few moments of silence, Legolas finally nodded. "Alright."

*~*~*

Thalion wearily opened his eyes to see the gateway to Rivendell above him. It was well past dark by now. They had decided to ease off the hard ride, as Thalion's wound was jarred and made worse.

Though it was a serious wound, Elrond felt they would have plenty of time to get to Rivendell and get the proper antidote for Thalion's wound. Poison was a tricky thing, but if properly treated immediately it would normally cause nothing more than a sore body and a slight headache.

But since the prince had forgotten about his wound, there was a slight more urgency in everyone when Thalion had toppled off of his horse.

Thalion had only seen a few moments of Telos, but he was frankly too sick to really care. His head felt like a half full bucket, sloshing around, ready to tip over, but not quite. Miriwen had always teased him about his way of saying if something was half empty or half full.

"To figure it out." Thalion had explained. "You take a glass, if you fill it half full, then it is half full, but if you fill the glass full, then drink half of it, then it is half empty."

He grinned tiredly as he remembered Miriwen's laughter filling in his ears after his explanation. He was quite lax in Haldir's arms, his head resting easily on the broad shoulder. He was tired, but not really a physical tired, it was more of an emotional tired.

"Prince Thalion?" Lord Elrond's voice sounded in his ear.

Thalion rolled his head over to the other side to stare at the elven lord. "Yes?" He whispered, finding his throat was dry.

"How do you feel?" Elrond asked concerned at the glazed look in the prince's eyes.

"Tired." Thalion gave a half smile. "Weak."

Elrond nodded, though his mind was racing with different possibilities of different poisons that he hadn't detected.

Thalion coughed suddenly as he shivered. "Rather cold out here, don't you think?"

Elrond frowned. "What?"

"It's rather cold out here don't you think?" Thalion repeated.

Elrond exchanged glances with his sons. "Not really." He said hesitantly.

"Oh." Thalion shrugged tiredly. "I'm cold anyway."

Aragorn hid a grin, being cold was something unnatural to elves, but as Thalion had said, it was cold out. His men were shivering and were all in need of either a hot bath or a hot fire to warm themselves.

"It is a good thing we are in Rivendell." He remarked casually, ignoring the stares of his men. "I hope Erestor has hot water going."

A snort from the pavilion made all of them look up. "I would highly doubt that, young Estel."

Aragorn grinned. "Oh come on, Erestor." He teased. "I bet you could heat a bath up with ease."

Erestor rolled his eyes, knowing the young edain was teasing him, yet fully taking the bait. "I am an advisor, not a servant."

"Yeah, but you could still." Aragorn started, ignoring the looks of amusement from his men.

"Aragorn." Elrond warned, sliding off of his horse. "You can tease Erestor after all the wounds have been bandaged." He said firmly.

Heaving a long-suffering sigh, Aragorn slid off of his horse as well, motioning for his men to do likewise. "Everyone picks on me." He whined.

Elladan snorted, very unelven like, drawing a raised eyebrow from his father. "I wonder why." He stated sarcastically, stretching his sore muscles.

"You're such a child Estel." Elrohir rolled his eyes.

"At least to you anyway." Aragorn was quick to retort as he walked up to the side of Haldir's horse. "Erestor, could you please see that all my men get a bath and a hot meal?"

"And just where are you planning on sleeping?" Erestor asked dryly, though he had a good idea exactly what the young edain was going to say.

"Oh, we can bed down in the south hallway, that side is usually reserved for guests anyway." Came Aragorn nonchalant reply.

Elrond shook his head. "Estel.." The word was spoken in a subtle warning. "You know very well that we have rooms enough for three times the rangers you have and plenty enough room for the Lothlorien elves as well."

Gently sliding the wounded prince into Aragorn waiting arms, Haldir couldn't help but notice something wet turning cold on his arm. "Lord Elrond." Haldir caught the elven lord's attention. "I believe he is still bleeding." He showed the healer his arm.

Sobering quickly, Elrond nodded and quickly told Aragorn to help Thalion into the healing rooms. "Erestor, if you'll be so kind, please give each man and elf a room and get some hot water going."

Erestor nodded. "Of course."

Smiling his thanks, Elrond quickly strode up the stairs after his son and the prince.

*~*~*

The fire crackled cheerily in the woods, contrasting sharply against the darkness of the forest. It wasn't always this dark, Thorinell mused. He could still remember when it was Greenwood the Great, not Mirkwood.

He casually tossed a stick of wood into the fire and watched it slowly be consumed by the flames. He had volunteered for the middle shift, the hardest one of course. He needed to think, not only about Lothgil but also about the attacking orcs. His elves were becoming a target for the enemy, and that was something that Thorinell couldn't bear to even think about.

He knew that many of his elves were weary of Middle Earth and given a chance he knew for certain, that nearly all of his settlement would be emptied. He sighed, casting another stick into the fire.

If worse came to worse, Valar forbid, he could always go and offer his services as a warrior under Thranduil. He was not yet weary of Middle Earth and though his elves might want to leave, he would prefer to stay. Not just because of Lothgil, but she was a big part of the reasons why.

A bird whistled in the still of the night. Instantly the three elves disappeared into the darkness around their camp. The ability to be on guard almost constantly had its advantages as well as its disadvantages.

A low chuckle filled the air. "And here I thought that the settlement elves were slow." The jest came unexpectedly from above ground.

Thorinell grinned allowing himself to relax. "And here I thought that Thranduil's warriors were elves not squirrels."

There was a muffled snort then four elves dropped down in simultaneously. "Thorinell, I thought your clan would be long gone to the Valinor by now." Siverron commented in greeting.

Thorinell sighed. "Very likely by now." He said vaguely.

Siverron frowned. "What do you mean?" He questioned sensing some discord within the other's spirit.

Thorinell laughed. "You always did have to know everyone else's business." He mocked lightly, gesturing for the other elves to be seated.

Siverron shrugged as he gracefully sat down. "I can't help it."

The other's chuckled, each knowing Siverron's seeming thirst to know everything, not just bits and pieces. If he were ordered to a certain place, he would ask for a map for the entirety of Mirkwood, so he could see exactly how he would get there, all possible escape routes and where the other might be. He was notorious for carrying his own map just so he could see where he thought everyone else was.

"What are you four doing out here at this time of night?" Thorinell questioned.

Siverron grinned. "I could ask you the same."

Thorinell narrowed his eyes. "Yes, but I asked it first, so you are obligated to answer me before I answer you."

Siverron laughed. "Same old Thorinell." He shook his head. "We are actually going to all the settlements to warn of possible attacks from wargs and orcs." He stopped seeing Thorinell shake his head. "What?"

"Too late." Thorinell said quietly. "We were attacked just this morning."

Siverron swore. "None of the other settlements have even been touched yet, but this news." He shook his head. He turned to look at his three companions. "You three go on to the other settlements in the morning and I will go back to the palace to report to King Thranduil."

The others sobered at the chilling news. Each one thought back to their own families or friends they knew at different settlements.

"Many in our settlement wish to leave for the Valinor." Thorinell said softly.

"What?" Siverron asked shocked, then he sighed. "I cannot say that I am truly surprised." He allowed. "Your settlement is one of the closest to the growing shadow."

Thorinell nodded. "I fear that when I get back, that a certain few will have roused the others up and many will indeed depart." He looked down at the piece of wood he had picked up, and began to twirl it around in his fingers. "I do not know if I will go though." He confessed. "There are many things here that still hold my heart."

Siverron grinned. "Like a certain female perhaps?"

Thorinell sighed. "Don't I wish."

Siverron frowned. "What do you mean by that?"

Thorinell shook his head. "Later, we need sleep for tomorrow." He sent a stern glance over at the other elves.

Siverron gauged Thorinell, but then settled down for the night, deciding to interrogate his friend on the morrow.

*~*~*

Thranduil sat back on his haunches, watching his youngest son speak. The words seemed to bubble forth from Legolas' lips like a dam torn asunder.

The words tore a hole into Thranduil's heart like an arrow through a target. The words spilled forth with such a lack of utter interest. It was if Legolas was telling a story that he had heard before, and told many times. Though softly spoken, Thranduil could feel the words pound against his heart as if they were shouted.

Silence reigned as Legolas slowly drew his forlorn tale to a close.

"Oh my son." Thranduil whispered, drawing Legolas to his chest. "My son."

Legolas' lower lip trembled as he fought to keep the tears back. "Why Ada?" He cried out softly. "Why me? Why did it have to be me?"

Thranduil closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Ada. I'm so sorry." Legolas sobbed, tears pouring from the gray- blue eyes. "I'm sorry. "

"Why?" Thranduil jerked Legolas away. "Why are you sorry? What did you do to be sorry for?"

"I didn't fight back." Legolas whispered. "I let him do whatever he wanted."

"Your silence is the reason why I still live." Thranduil whispered, gently clasping Legolas' chin forcing his son to look him in the eye. "If you would have broken, do you know how many elves they would have killed?"

"But." Legolas started to protest.

"But what?" Thranduil broke in gently. "You have suffered Legolas." He said solemnly. "But you have also prevailed. Things happened to you that should have never happened. Words were spoken that you should have never heard. But you didn't break. You didn't tell them the location of the palace."

Legolas hiccuped. "I almost did."

"But you didn't." Lomion put in. "You didn't break."

Legolas drew in a shaky breath. Realization broke over his face. "I didn't, did I."

Thranduil drew Legolas close to his chest again. "No Legolas." He whispered. "You didn't break. You are hurting now, but we are here. We will guard you and keep the nightmares away." He placed a gentle kiss on Legolas' forehead.

"Sleep now, build up your strength."

Legolas nodded tiredly. "Ada?"

"Yes 'Las?"

A smile curved the bloodless lips. "Thank you."

*~*

A/N:If you didn't know or don't know:-) I will be posting AWTR every other week as well as TD. I was rapidly running out of inspiration for AWTR and giving myself a little more time helps out a bit.

Next chapter:

Thranduil and party get back to the palace. Thorinell does as well. Elrond finds something wrong with Thalion. And Miriwen suffers something... unexpected.

*~*

I knew I had to tell you guys sooner or later, but at the end of this and The Dare fic, I will not be posting any new stories for at least six months, perhaps even longer.

Here is my reason: (You may or may not like it, but this is my choice, so please don't criticize me. )

God has really been working on my life, and he wants me to put a hold on my obsessive LOTRness. I read LOTR fan fiction, I write LOTR fan fiction, I do everything in between Fan and Fiction, lol, so God has just gently been nudging me to give it up for a little while and keep my focus on Him and Him alone. But that doesn't mean that I won't write stories later on.

I have several fics in my head and thoughts written down, but I will not expand upon them for at least six months.

I hope you will keep on enjoying my fan fiction and I will do my utmost to thrill you, make you break into tears, make your blood pump with adrenaline, sigh dreamily, or fight back the lump in your throat. Until then, I remain, most humbly, LOTRFaith.