Apologies for this having taken so long. There are five chapters behind this until the story is done. My writing partner, Greenwood, is layering those chapters with exquisite detail and they will post when she's finished. Please trust me - you want to wait for what she's doing, the story is much improved with her contribution.

Many thanks for your patience and encouragement. I hope you won't have to wait much longer for the rest of the story. In the meantime, here are two more chapters.

~Wednesday

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The morning of the depature to Dol Guldur dawned with a clear, cold beauty that did nothing to assuage Lord Elrond's dread of his loved ones' parting. Arising before Legolas awoke, Elrond took refuge in his library to allow the Elf to bathe and dress in the privacy of their shared chambers. Retiring to the library's upper balcony, Elrond claimed the window overlooking the central courtyard and waited.

Far too soon, he brooded over the sight of Legolas leading two horses out into the central courtyard. One had been chosen for Mithrandir, for the wizard's usual mount had come up lame the day before. Elrond was loaning him one of Rivendell's horses, and Legolas had selected one of the best. The question was, could the wizard actually ride it?

Elrond noted gloomily that it was yet another worry to add to the not insignificant list of concerns as Legolas tried to persuade the shocked creature to stand still while he tightened the girth. That was an indignity this mare clearly was unused tom, and her hooves tapped irritably on the cobbles as the pair spun in yet another tight circle. Laughter floated up toward the elf lord's window seat as Glorfindel stepped into view within the courtyard to watch the argument with amusement. The twins soon joined the group, securing packs and weaponry to their own mounts, making sure all was in order for the journey ahead.

Someone was ascending the winding staircase behind Elrond with a step that was far too heavy to belong to any Elf. Elrond did not turn when Mithrandir came up beside him, puffing to catch his breath after the climb.

"I realize that that you and the twins hope to thwart death by never saying good-bye," Mithrandir panted, "but I refuse to observe any such superstition." An arm stole around Elrond's shoulders to hug him hard.

Sparing the ghost of a smile but never looking away from the golden-haired Elf below, Elrond replied, "It is not superstition, my friend. It is hope."

"Hope filled with fear." Mithrandir spared him a critical look. "You look as if you did not sleep very much last night."

"I didn't."

Below, Legolas had succeeded in making certain Mithrandir's tack was in order. With girth secured and bridle as it should be, the Mirkwood Elf rolled the wizard's spare cloak more tightly than the wizard's haphazard bundle and secured it behind his saddle.

Mithrandir snorted. "That princeling from Mirkwood takes care of me as if I cannot take care of myself."

"More than you know, for it was Legolas who selected the mare you are to ride."

"Then I know who to blame if she dumps me into the gorse, don't I?"

Elrond ignored the comment almost as if he had not heard it, still intent on watching the slender elf below as he moved about the horses.

"You are worried about our journey?" Mithrandir ventured.

"I am." Elrond half-turned from the window to fix the wizard with an irritable glare. "How could I not be worried? Any reasonable being would be worried, sending young warriors into such a danger."

"Your sons and Legolas are well-protected," Mithrandir pointed out. "You might spare a bit of worry for myself and Glorfindel."

That comment drew an even more dire look. "I've no doubt that you two are capable of looking after yourselves."

"As are you sons and Legolas, I daresay. Still, we will all take care of your prince," the wizard reassured quietly.

The censure faded from Elrond's gaze, leaving only aching concern in its wake.

Mithrandir smiled. "How amazing this is, Elrond. My fear when I brought Legolas here was that you would offend each other so badly, neither would have any use for the other. I am happy to know my worry was for naught."

"I care for Legolas, and I will miss him," Elrond admitted. "Moreover, I have a great sense of foreboding that I will never see him again. He does not understand this, and I cannot convince him of my concerns."

"Does he not understand it, does he believe your fears to be unfounded, or does he recognize your fears and think that he still must go?"

"All three, perhaps," Elrond admitted after a moment's reflection. "He has no understanding of my gift of foresight, for he does not share it. When I speak of my vision, he thinks it only anxiety, nothing very serious. He reminds me that he knows Dol Guldur, that he can get in and out and has much support this time than ever he has had in the past. And so what exactly is my worry?" Elrond spread his hands. "How do explain the formless dread that is accompanied by a vague vision of him, huddled and dying, in darkness and distress?"

"So while Legolas may listen to your concerns, he refuses to stay here?"

"Exactly. I must let him go, even as I feel that I will lose him."

Mithrandir's somber gaze held Elrond's. "A foretelling is never to be ignored. Legolas need not go. Glorfindel is entirely capable of seeing himself safely through Dol Guldur."

"Legolas is determined to serve. And he cannot be caged."

"Others have tried to do just that," Mithrandir acknowledged.

"And others have failed." Sighing, the Elf-lord left the window to wander back toward the top of the staircase. "I promised to let Legolas go, so let him go I must. My... benevolence... seems to have won his trust--a trust that I will not shatter, not even for his continued safety and my own peace of mind. He has become my heart's companion these past weeks; I hope that he will not become Sauron's prisoner. But hope is a fragile thing when standing next to such fear as I feel."

Leveling a severe look at Mithrandir, Elrond continued. "It is dreadful enough that Legolas will enter the Dark Lord's fortress. I ask you to give me your word that, come what may, my sons will not cross that threshold. I could not survive losing all three."

"You have my word."

"You have my thanks." Gesturing, Elrond indicated the stairs. "Your companions await, Mithrandir. I will watch for your safe return as I watch for theirs. Elbereth guide you on this journey, my friend."

"Peace be yours while we are away, Elrond."

The Elf-lord returned to his window while the wizard made his way back to the main floor and down into the courtyard. Glorfindel and the twins were mounted now, eager to be off over the bridge and for the adventure to begin. Elrond's sharp eyes found Legolas waiting patiently beside Mithrandir's mare while his gelding grazed nearby.

Joining Legolas, Mithrandir accepted the help that was offered to get him astride his horse. Taking a few circles of the courtyard, the wizard assured the rest of the company that he was capable of handling the mare which was now evidently resigned to bearing both wizard and tack. With a wave, Mithrandir then headed for the stone arch leading out of Imladris.

Vaulting onto his horse, Legolas waited for Glorfindel and the twins to follow the wizard. His gelding moved into place behind Glorfindel's, and Elrond watched as the slender form astride the shining horse moved slowly from the courtyard and the safety Imladris could provide him.

[And that is that,] Elrond thought. [I likely will not see him again.]

But as he watched, loathe to give up this last glimpse of Legolas departing, the last horse in line suddenly turned back. Halting at the archway, Legolas stared up at the windows of the last homely house and found Elrond. Laying a closed hand against his heart, the younger Elf then stretched out his arm and opened his hand. 'My heart stays with you,' said the gesture.

His eyes welling with tears, Elrond echoed the salute and whispered, "My heart goes with you, my prince."

Giving a slow, solemn nod, Legolas smile brightly before turning his gelding back to the journey at hand. Cold sunlight dappled the blonde mane, and then Legolas was gone.

***

The twins led the climb out of Imladris, with Glorfindel following behind. Mithrandir waited for Legolas on the far side of the bridge spanning the Bruinen, and the Elf braced himself for the questions coming that he knew he would not want to answer.

Mithrandir did not disappoint. "Is it difficult for you to leave him?"

"No more than it is for him to let me go," Legolas said softly, gesturing that the wizard should precede him on the narrow path winding out of the deep ravine guarding Elrond's sanctuary.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Mithrandir half-turned in his saddle to glower at the elf behind him. "You two seem to have become inseparable, yet you have not bonded."

"I feel great affection for Elrond. Please leave it at that for now."

Mithrandir brightened immediately. "Oh you do? You've done well then, youngling, for I sense that he feels the same for you."

"And I sense that you would do well to keep your eyes on the steep path before your mare rather than twist and turn over the relationship between Elrond and myself. You must actually ride today, Mith, for that is not some cart-horse bearing you."

Chuckling, the wizard winked before turning about and taking up the reins. "Common sense rather than romance rules your existence as ever it has, my friend."

Sighing softly, Legolas did not reply. Thankfully, Mithrandir seemed to take his advice to heart and ceased his questioning. For the moment. Unlike Mithrandir, the twins' curiosity regarding Legolas's intentions toward their father had been assuaged in previous weeks. He had no worries regarding them, and he knew how to handle the wizard. Glorfindel, however, was another matter. The legendary elf had watched closely but remained mostly quiet--if pointed in his occasional commentary--and certainly circumspect inside of Elrond's walls, but Legolas knew little of what to expect now that Glorfindel had easy access to him. Legolas would rest easier atop his gelding once he had ascertained what the older elf's attitude was to be toward him for the next five weeks. It would be a very long journey indeed should Glorfindel carry resentment toward Legolas.

The top of the ravine was gained, and the day dulled to gray around them as clouds covered the sun. The twins rode well ahead with Mithrandir for the most part keeping up. Thus it was that no one was paying any heed to Legolas or to Glorfindel when the older elf dropped back beside Legolas once the trail widened enough to allow two to ride abreast.

"Are you the self-appointed rear-guard?" Glorfindel inquired.

Legolas shrugged. "It seems a good idea, though my original intent was only to keep Mithrandir ahead, so that I might ascertain his skills aboard the mare we assigned him. At the very least, I can collect him if he slides off."

Glorfindel nodded. "He seems to be doing well enough."

"He does indeed." Legolas thought. The mare in question took the opportunity at that moment to snatch at the greenery growing along the side of the trail. Mithrandir wheezed at the sudden stop. "Well enough for the most part."

"It's a two week journey to Dol Guldur," the older elf commented. "Elrond was worried whether you can prepare me in so short a time."

"Descriptions will serve you little, my lord. I can offer warnings, but entry into the fortress itself will inform far better than anything I might say."

"Then how shall we pass the two weeks?" Glorfindel persisted. "We all bore easily. Has Mithrandir brought along fireworks and a pocket dragon to amuse?"

"Of course he has," said Legolas as they caught up to the wizard in question. "Why else would we bring him along?"

Mithrandir rocked back and stared at the younger elf. "My purpose is to messenger back to Saruman whatever you two scoundrels might discover in that Valar-forsaken fortress."

Glorfindel shrugged. "Nice to know you're not just here to take in the view and eat your share of the rabbits we snare for supper." Leaning out, he patted the wizard's mare on the rump, and she agreeably moved off as their horses drew alongside her.

"Indeed."

"Now that we've settled that," said Glorfindel, "perhaps Legolas has a few questions he'd like to ask now that we're alone?"

"Questions? What sort of questions?"

Glorfindel untangled his mount's mane. "You've lived with Elrond a number of weeks, while I have lived with him a number of years. Is there anything you'd like to know about our esteemed host while he's not around to censor the conversation? Something you'd dare not ask the twins, but know I'd safely gossip about?"

"Gossip?" Mithrandir sounded incredulous. "Glorfindel, you are a fount of truth and knowledge. You never gossip."

"Of course I don't. What was I thinking?"

Legolas thought a moment. He did have questions, but didn't want to voice them when anyone else was near. Mithrandir wasn't a problem, but the twins might be if the conversation was to waft close enough for them to hear. "May I consider your offer?"

"Consider away, my prince. If you think of anything, you know where to find me." Beaming at Legolas, Glorfindel urged his mount forward and so missed the frown the younger elf gave him.

"'My prince' is it?" Mithrandir humphed. "I thought only Elrond called you that."

"He does." Legolas glowered after the Elf-lord. "If Glorfindel does it again, I shall have to speak to him. I am no one's prince but--"

Clamping closed his mouth, Legolas lifted his chin and looked across at Mithrandir in open defiance, as if daring him to challenge or ridicule what Legolas had very nearly admitted.

"Hmmm..." said Mithrandir, gray eyes twinkling and mouth turning up at the corners so that his beard twitched. "So that's the way it is, is it?"

"The way what is?"

Straightening in the saddle, Mithrandir stroked his beard and squinted at the forest path. "I should look to the road, you know? Terrible habit, allowing myself to be distracted like that." Dropping the reins momentarily, he patted down his robes. "Where did I put that pipeweed?"

"Mithrandir--"

"Ah, here it is. Now to find my pipe, and the morning will be that much more pleasant. Look about you, Legolas, and what do you see? A fine spring morning, an adventurous outing with wonderful friends, and we're all on our way to Dol Guldur. What more could anyone possibly want?"

"A better destination!" Legolas snapped. He waited until the wizard had found and lit his pipe. Bitter smoke wafted through the air, headed straight for him as if by wizardly design. Waving aside the smoke and choking on the stench, Legolas shook his head. "Some days, Mithrandir, you are impossible."

"Me? What?" Innocence filled the wide blue eyes. The wizard took the time to blow smoke rings that just happened to drift in the Elf's direction, causing his horse to snort in irritation. "What did I do?"

Shaking his head by way of reply, Legolas booted his gelding into a canter to leave the smelly smoke and impossible wizard behind.

* * *

One of the twins shook Legolas awake. It was impossible to tell which one it was in the moonlight, but from the silence Legolas suspected it to be Elrohir. Waking instantly, Legolas was on his feet and reached for his bow, was making sure his knives when Glorfindel joined him. Departing the camp, the two Elves diverted to check on Mithrandir, only to discover he was snoring softly in his sleep.

"He still smells of pipeweed," observed Glorfindel.

"He ever smells of pipeweed," Legolas rejoined, falling into step beside the Elf-lord. "I tracked him from the scent alone whenever he came to call in Mirkwood."

"Small wonder then that, given the exquisite sense of smell Wraiths possess, he dares not venture inside Dol Guldur."

They settled in a tree not far from their camp as had become their habit over the past weeks, climbing high enough to observe and defend yet not so high that their sight was obstructed.

Legolas broke the easy silence long minutes later, once he was certain the twins were asleep and could hear nothing of the conversation. "I know that a few days have passed since you offered to answer any questions I might have regarding Elrond, but are you still willing?"

"Of course."

"Then tell me of Celebrian."

"Celebrian?" Sighing deeply, Glorfindel stared up at the moon for a long moment. "Celebrian is not Elrond, young one, and not what I promised to discuss."

Legolas did not reply, uncertain if he had overstepped some boundary of propriety with this question.

Glorfindel sighed before continuing. "I suppose it is no surprise that you would wish to hear of her before all else. Elrond has told me that their marriage was a failure from the beginning. The twins and Arwen are its only light."

"Why did they bond, then?"

"Elrond bonded for love, Celebrian did not. This, Elrond did not know at the time. She felt that joining with him was the best she could do, for your older brother would not have her and no other elf-lords were about. Elrond was young and naive regarding matters of the heart fifty-five hundred years ago, but he remained neither young nor naive for long. You know that he is called the Peredhil--the half-elven--and ever Celebrian resented this and thought less of him for it, even to the point of being unable to bear his touch for any length of time. She avoided Elrond for years on end, visiting her parents in Lothlorien and ignoring as much as was possible that she had taken him for a mate. You know the story of her capture and abuse by Orcs?"

"I know that she was waylaid while returning to Imladris, and that the twins managed to locate and save her."

Glorfindel nodded. "Elrond was able to heal her physical wounds, but some deep injury remained that he could not touch, or that she would not allow him to touch. She sailed oversea in hopes of easing the agony of her memories, but that hope proved false with her death. Perhaps she will petition Mandos to return to life without the memories she has, or perhaps she has chosen oblivion. In any case, Elrond felt her die and their bond shatter. They are lost to each other, and Elrond is now free."

Shifting uneasily, Glorfindel braced his back against the trunk of the tree, laid his bow more comfortably across his lap. "My bottom is going numb," he muttered irritably.

"Did Elrond foresee all of this?" Legolas pursued.

"He suspected it might come when she could not bear to remain here with him. While joined with her, Elrond learned well to hope for the best, yet prepare for the worst. Until a few weeks ago, he was trapped in a loveless bond. I know that little has changed with his being set free."

"Thranduil has seen to that." Bitterness tinged Legolas's voice.

"Thranduil?" Glorfindel shook his head. "Regardless your betrothal, Thranduil is not responsible for Elrond's aloneness. Neither are you, my pri... Erm, little prince," Glorfindel amended, seeing the look of death Legolas shot him. "Elrond's aloneness began long before you and your father's schemes were conceived, when Elrond's brother, Elros, chose a mortal life and subsequently died. Gil-galad's death at Dagorlad contributed to Elrond's isolation and responsibilities in ways we can never understand. He is always alone, always surrounded by responsibilities. There has been no real happiness in his life. Until you came to Imladris, there was only duty."

Glittering blue eyes found Legolas's in the moonlight. "You must know that you are making him forget Celebrian. He does not miss her or resent her dying. He only hopes that, whatever happens, she finds peace. In many ways, his trust in love was shattered, but then so was yours. No matter what Celebrian did, Elrond has three beautiful children who love him. And he has the sanctuary that is Imladris. He also has you, if you will allow it, which is a far better outcome than I had hoped for him. Are you coming to love him, Legolas?"

"He is a good friend," Legolas said carefully.

Glorfindel nodded and considered for a moment. "For now, I think that is more than enough."

* * *

The Mirkwood scout glared through the moonlight and shifted slightly to get a clearer view through the thick leaves of the thorn bush. Careful to disturb neither twig nor leaf that might inform the two Elves on watch of his presence, he nodded and backed away from his quarry.

He relished the thought of returning to Thranduil's hall and sharing what he had discovered. Cold morning would see him there and on his knees before his king to relay how he had discovered Thranduil's youngest and most disobedient son dallying with some new friends just outside of Mirkwood's borders. The scout's efforts would find favor with his king, a rarity these days, and he found that he actually anticipated giving this report.

Circling the intruders' camp, the scout further discovered that their tracks were leading into Mirkwood rather than out. Five was the number of their mounts, and further careful observation revealed that Legolas was traveling with three strange Elves and a snoring Mithrandir.

Who the other Elves were, the scout neither cared nor wished to find out. They were Imladris elves most likely and of no importance beyond the fact that they wandered with Mirkwood's escapee. The scout wanted no names. Neither, he suspected, would Thranduil. All the king would care about was that his unmanageable son had returned unbonded.

One thing the scout could report with total confidence: the tall, thin Elf sharing watch with the wayward one resembled in no way, shape or form the dark, somber, formidable Half-Elven of Imladris.

Clearly, then, Mirkwood's youngest prince had no intention of fulfilling the promise he had made to his king. The scout suspected that while he would be rewarded handsomely for his intelligence, the fate awaiting Legolas would be far less pleasant. The scout hesitated at that thought, then shrugged. Legolas' fate was not his concern, nor could it have any impact on what was to come next. The scouting elf's duty was clear, and it was time to see it to its conclusion with all possible speed. Slipping into the shadows, the scout turned toward the Mirkwood stronghold and disappeared.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Lightning flashed and thunder rolled. It was a fierce storm for so early in the season, but its violence continued unabated. The trees whipped hard about in the wind while a blinding rain lashed all of Imladris. The storm had driven everyone indoors hours ago at sunset, for all that it had been too dark to tell the time, and Elrond was contented that it should be so. Seated alone in his library, the Elf-lord twisted Vilya round and round on his middle finger while watching the water creep higher and higher across the grass, ever closer to his beloved books.

So engrossed was he in counting the days, hours and minutes since he had last seen Legolas, so lost was he in letting his dark mood find its match in the fury of the weather, that Elrond very nearly didn't hear the clatter of horses' hooves on the courtyard's cobbles outside. Almost didn't hear, over the howling wind, his sons' voices shouting with a panic Elrond had not heard since they had carried home their mother, half-dead. But hear them Elrond did, attuned as he was to the pitch and timbre of those voices since Elladan and Elrohir had first drawn breath to cry at their birth.

The Elf-lord's heart pounded, his breathing came fast and shallow as he bolted through the library, out through the main doors, and down the steps into the courtyard. He was in time to see Elrohir leap from his white gelding and take the steps two at a time, while Elladan paused only to command both their mounts to stand, steaming and shivering, at the base of the steps in the cold rain.

His sons were alone. Glorfindel was not with them, nor was--

Elrond's heart nearly stopped.

The twins carried no limp form in their arms as they came this time, but their alarm was no less than the last time they had stood here in fear. Water poured over Elrond, instantly plastering his robes to his body as he stood shivering as well, and Elrohir skidded to a stop at the head of the steps.

"They took him," the usually silent twin gasped, wiping water from his eyes. "Dol Guldur was safely behind us, Mithrandir had departed for Orthanc. We were beyond Mirkwood's borders, and they took him. While he was on watch. I told him he shouldn't be alone. Told him--"

"We both told him, Father." Elladan slid up beside his brother. "Glorfindel offered to watch with him, but Legolas said no, that Glorfindel needed to rest after Dol Guldur. The Wraiths had been averted. Truly, we thought the danger had passed. We all believed it to be so."

Elrond's heart constricted in his chest. "The Wraiths took him?"

"No."

"We'd have heard them screaming, or felt them and awoke if they had been near."

"Then who took him?" Elrond demanded, taking Elrohir's arm and very nearly snarling. "Tell me."

"We found his bow."

"And his arrows in their quiver."

"Unbuckled. As if he had set it on the ground and walked away."

"His knives were in their sheathes."

"Undrawn."

"He didn't fight. The grass was undisturbed."

"He took only his horse."

"He could have awakened us with but a word, but--"

"But he didn't because--"

"WHO TOOK HIM?" Elrond thundered.

Elrohir jumped back, startled. "We think he knew his captures, else he'd have fought. Whoever it was, we think they took him to Thranduil."

"The trail led into Mirkwood, Adar. They took him home." Elladan fell silent and could no longer meet his father's gaze.

Horror and mortification reflected in Elrohir's grey eyes. "We failed him."

"We will get him back," Elrond ground out. "Come with me."

Whirling, he strode up back into Imladris and headed for his private chambers with his sons on his heels.

"Glorfindel stayed behind, said he'd watch the fortress and talk to any guards who would talk to him," Elladan continued, as he all but trotted along in the wake of his father's sweeping stride. "Glorfindel knows some of them."

"Glorfindel said he'd visited Mirkwood before settling here with us." Elrohir was babbling now, and Elrond idly realized that this was the most he'd ever heard his son say. He could also hear his son's teeth chatter with the cold and the stress.

"Glorfindel traveled with Mithrandir," Elrohir relayed. "He introduced the wizard to Thranduil."

Pushing into the inner bedchamber, Elrond pulled his longsword down from the wall. It desperately needed oiling, but there was no time, it would have to be tended on the road. Elrond claimed its sheath a moment later. Sliding home the sharp blade, Elrond blessed the Elven workmanship that saw its leather as strong and supple as the day it had been tooled.

"We went to relieve Legolas and found his weapons on the edge of the glade," Elladan relayed. "We brought them home, they're downstairs tied to my horse." He stared to see his father stripping off his wet robes. "Adar, what are you doing?"

Throwing back the lid of a trunk, Elrond retrieved a set of light armor with a mail overskirt and belt. "I am going to bring Legolas home."

"You're... leaving Imladris?"

"It's the only way to reach him. Thranduil isn't going to deliver him here to me again."

"Let us change, Ada, into something dry--"

"Why bother?" snapped Elladan. "We'd only be soaked again before we reached the horses. But we'll need new horses. Ours are exhausted, pushed too far. We'll ready yours as well, Adar."

"No," replied Elrond. "You two must remain here. You're exhausted as well."

"Adar, you can't go alone!"

"It took you two weeks to reach me. It will take another two weeks for me to reach Legolas. I do not know how long it will take for us to return, and so the two of you must govern Imladris in my absence. You will need this." Removing the ring of power from his finger, Elrond waited for it to wink into physical existence before pressing it into Elrohir's palm. The jewel winked in the candlelight.

"What?..." Elrond's son stared at the ring, slack-jawed.

"Vilya. It will shield this sanctuary from darkness and intruders. It will also obey your thoughts, so be careful what you think. As your first task, you may concentrate on aiding my journey by stopping the rain within Imladris's borders."

"This is... This ring is one of... of..." Peering down at the ring in his brother's hand, Elladan poked at the metal. "Adar, this is one of the original three? Gifted to the Elven rulers?"

"It is. Use it wisely, my sons."

"No," Elrohir breathed. "Take it back, Ada. It -- it belongs in your hands, not mine. Sweet Elbereth, you can't go."

"I will go." Pulling the armor over his head, Elrond buckled on his sword and cast about for his boots. "I will bring Legolas home."

"You'll need something for the journey ahead," Elladan insisted, following close on his father's heels as they left the bedchamber and headed down the stairs, into Elrond's library.

Elrohir followed somewhat more slowly behind them, staring at the the ring cradled in the palm of his hand and whispering dreads and wonderments that neither Elf-lord nor twin brother had the time or the inclination to pay any attention to.

"I need only lembas and water." Rummaging in a library drawer, Elrond tossed an oilcloth pack at Elladan. "Please see to it, my son, as quickly as possible."

"You'll need snares for rabbits and flint to start--"

"I will start no fires, snare no rabbits. I will travel straight through, stopping only to rest the horses. In that way, I will reach Legolas sooner."

Striding out to the stables, Elrond was only marginally aware of Elrohir and Elladan consulting with each other. Elladan broke off from their group before reaching the gate guarding the fields--hopefully to get the requested lembas and water. Elrond went first to Assassin's stall, to stroke the velvet nose when the stallion's head appeared over the stall door.

"Would that you were sound and could carry me on this journey," Elrond whispered.

Assassin was not, and a final caress was all that Elrond could spare before turning away and considering other equine candidates. The Elf-lord was sick to realize that most of the alternates had lost wind and strength as well in the fire. Time and new breedings would replace what had been lost, but time was a luxury Elrond did not have this night.

He finally settled on two broad-chested, well-built stallions that had escaped the fire. Both were fully trained, but only one had been tested in actual battle. Elrond did not know how he or they would fare if it came to that. He knew only that they were swift and strong and well-favored by both Legolas and Glorfindel. Surely they would carry him safely to Mirkwood and back.

"You will be as safe as we can make you, Adar," Elrohir whispered behind him.

The next words Elrond heard was Elrohir urgently urging Vilya to stop the rain, to clear the skies, and let the light of Elbereth watch over him on this journey--Elrond's first in hundreds of years. Elrohir watched the jewel cradled in his palm, hesitated, poked at the ring with an insistent forefinger, then began his entreaties to the ring again.

A broad hand closed over Elrohir's palm, which still cradled the ring of power. Elrond's other hand stroked down his son's soaking wet hair.

"You must put on the ring if you wish it to serve you," the Elf-lord took the time to relay, speaking with a calm he was far from feeling. Taking the ring, he slid it onto his son's middle finger. "For your own safety and that of Imladris, Vilya and its power should be kept secret from all but Elladan."

Elrohir gasped as the ring winked out of view, becoming invisible even to him. He rubbed a finger over it, as if to reassure himself it was still there.

"Yours is now the gift of foresight, Elrohir, be it blessing or curse," Elrond continued. "Yours is also the responsibility of looking after our people."

Capturing his son's hand, Elrond also gained his attention. "Gil-galad gave Vilya to me moments before he was lost in battle, and he left me with as much information and guidance as I leave with you now. Vilya's power helps guard Imladris and all within this valley. The ring is powerful, but it will obey your will. Don't be afraid of it. Counsel with your brother whenever you feel a decision must be made. Together, you will do well, and I shall return in no time."

Elrond turned back to ready his mounts.

"How does it work?" Elrohir whispered.

"Vilya sees whatever you envision. If such a manifestation is within the ring's power, it will see it done. In this way you can control the weather, ease a mother's pain in childbirth, seek to sense the movements of your enemies, and shield Imladris itself from unwelcome eyes. For the moment, return to concentrating on clearing the skies, and let me see to Legolas."

Elrohir nodded jerkily, then squinted at the rain briefly before returning to his whispered conversation with his hand.

Elladan appeared with a satchel of supplies and a black cloak as Elrond prepared to mount.

"The rain is clearing," he announced, settling the heavy cloak over his father's shoulders before strapping two bulging oilskin packs over the stallions.

"That is well." Elrond spared a smile for the still-trembling Elrohir. "Well done."

Elrohir looked momentarily relieved at his success and stood aside with his brother while Elrond finished preparing the horses. Closing his eyes momentarily, he explained to each war-horse where they were going and what might be expected of them.

[The kind one has need of you,] he relayed, sending a strong image to them of Legolas as they had seen him last, at Elrond's side. [Will you help me save him as he fought to save your friends?]

"Adar." Elladan laid a hand on his father's arm once Elrond was astride the horse. "Please take one of us with you. I will go."

Elrond shook his head. "You must both stay here and guard Imladris. If I do not return, this sanctuary is yours. Your task is to keep it and yourselves safe."

Turning his mount, he headed for the same exit Legolas had taken only days before. Behind him trotted the second, younger war-horse, eager to be off and prove himself.

No further farewells were exchanged. The only sound was the horses splashing through the puddle at the gate.

* * *

Elrond relinquished all control to the stallions and let them set their own pace. They ran together, ecstatic at their unexpected freedom. They were also aware of their rider's anxiety, answering his urgency with speed and knowing what was needed to carry the Elf-lord to their other elf-friend, to fly the night away. Vilya's power had stopped the rain as far as Imladris's borders, and the unrelenting, cold rain invaded their journey all too soon.

Pounding down the beckoning open road, the stallions abandoned it at every opportunity, flying through thick forest and over fallen trees to ford rivers and gullies with a surefootedness that terrified Elrond as much as it reassured him that he'd chosen the right companions for this journey.

The horses agreed upon their path without consulting their rider, leaving him a mere passenger as they followed paths only they could see. They carried the Elf-lord easily on the night-wind and through the still-blinding rain, shaving off valuable minutes at Elrond's quiet urging. He relaxed into the trust he shared with these creatures, letting them see him safely to Legolas. Elrond knew that they could not continue indefinitely like this, but they shared his eagerness to reach Mirkwood, and he let them go as they would as he held onto the hope that Legolas would be waiting safe at the end of their days-long journey.

Bending low to the stallion's neck, Elrond let him make his own way while the Elf-lord's thoughts traveled on. [He was right. Legolas was right.]

Elrond groaned under that knowledge. Was Legolas also right to assume that Thranduil's rage at their not bonding would have more serious consequences than his locking Legolas in a dungeon cell? Legolas had not fallen to the Wraiths in Dol Guldur, so what had been the warning behind Elrond's grim vision?

[His captors were not brave enough to try taking him on the way into Dol Guldur,] Elrond reflected. [The risk of alerting both Wraiths and those Legolas traveled with was too great. And so, his attackers must have watched and waited until the mission was completed, until Mithrandir had lessened their strength by leaving. They had the patience to wait until Legolas was alone, knowing that he would choose to surrender rather than endanger his companions, regardless those companions were obviously from Imladris.]

Tree branches whipped at Elrond's face: he barely felt them. [Legolas is clearly unbonded, clearly still only Thranduil's son and not my mate,] his thoughts hurtled on. [Legolas was discovered and ordered taken, exactly as he foresaw. Of that, I have no doubt.]

Elrond changed mounts soon and circling once to get his bearings by the moon before heading off again. Still his thoughts cycled, flooded with fury, blame and regret.

"I love him," Elrond whispered into a velvet ear, which flicked back toward him, listening. "I want him back safe with me in Imladris, as safe as my own sons."

Elrond halted their journey at dawn, when the threat of orcs attacking was lessened and the horses could graze and rest in peace. The night would be Elrond's day for weeks to come, and what little sleep he allowed himself would be found in full sunlight.

Dreams of Legolas haunted his waking sleep--how could they not--with some so vivid that Elrond found himself burying his nose in his beloved's hair to inhale the fresh scent of it. Hugging the lithe, muscular body to him, the Elf-lord drew back to see vivid blue eyes staring up at him, trusting and wary all at once.

More than once, Elrond awoke at sunset from such a dream with the horses circling restlessly beneath the tree where he had taken shelter, having learned Elrond's schedule and urging him to the night's run.

It rained the entire way, days and days of it, until Elrond blessed his son for giving him the cloak that wicked the water away and keep him relatively dry. The rain was cold and constantly in his face, so that it touched even an Elf: his skin and his lips grew numb.

He pushed to travel twenty hours a day, allowing the horses only four hours of rest and knowing that he was treading dangerously close to the limits of their endurance. They made no complaints, only adjusted to his demands and slept more deeply during the day, occasionally even collapsing to stretch out in the grass for a few moments of slumber.

Regardless Elrond's watchcare, he lost the older stallion a week and a half into the journey: orcs waylaid them as the three travelers prepared to cross a swift-moving river at dusk. Drawing his sword, Elrond fought them off as the young stallion beneath him reared and struck out with flashing hooves before and behind.

The orcs quickly abandoned their efforts, turning instead to concentrate on the other horse that seemed easier prey. Rolling back an eye, the older stallion bared his teeth and lunged at the closest orcs. Whirling in a circle, the stallion bucked continuously to slam the nearest attackers against trees and boulders. Rearing, he slammed others, stomped them to death.

The older stallion bellowed loudly when Elrond urged his mount closer to the fight. Shaking his head in their direction, the stallion bellowed again and Elrond felt the animal beneath him tremble.

Abruptly and without warning, the younger stallion deliberately disobeyed Elrond. Whirling, it crouched and leaped into the flowing river beside them, to carry an unwilling Elf-lord away from the fight. Tears blinded Elrond as the stallion left behind bellowed his approval and screamed with a furious determination. Clinging to the mane, Elrond looked back in time to see the war-horse fight closer to the river in an effort to follow his companions. For a moment, Elrond thought the horse just might make it, but a sudden shower of blood from the stallion's white belly told him an orc had managed to get in what would prove to be a fatal blow.

The orcs cackled as the war-horse crashed down, screaming in pain. Mercifully, the screaming stopped as the roar of the river drowned out all other sounds. Turning away, the Elf-lord knew that they were alone on their journey now.

Carried but a short distance downstream, Elrond's remaining mount swam for the farther shore and stumbled out of the water. Sliding off of the stallion's back, the Elf-lord clung to the mane and breathed heavily. Resheathing the sword he still held in his hand, Elrond wiped the rain from his eyes and gazed across the river to where something large and shining white lay still on the ground. The orcs surrounding it leaped and danced in obvious delight.

Circling slowly around Elrond, the remaining stallion called to his friend, but there was no answer. Laying a hand across the horse's withers, Elrond tangled his fingers in the long mane and leaned against the wet hide as the ribs heaved beneath him, pulling in great, panting breaths.

"Peace be with you, my friend," Elrond whispered to the distant shore. "May you walk with Elbereth and run forever with the other companions of your life who were parted too soon from us as well."

The young stallion walked away from the shore and headed into the surrounding trees. Halting, he looked back as if to make certain Elrond was following. [Horse-friend is no more. Elf-friend is waiting.] The thought was all but shoved into Elrond's mind.

"Yes. Legolas is waiting." Elrond followed the horse.

When the river could no longer be seen, the stallion turned back to nuzzle Elrond's hand. Weary and heartsick, Elrond climbed astride the animal. Grasping the mane with both hands, he swore softly through gritted teeth and took a moment to hug the shining neck. The moon was rising. The clouds were clearing, the rain had stopped.

"Thank you for saving my life. We have lost one friend, we shall not lose another. Can you continue on?" he asked softly of the stallion.

The horse walked further into the moonlit forest. The rain had been nothing to this one, the cold meant even less as the stallion walked on, seeming to search for something. Another few minutes, and the horse had found a narrow game trail. Breaking into a smooth canter, the animal forged ahead without hesitation. Elrond ran a hand down the horse's neck in thanks, hoping that his gratitude was understood.

"Death will not claim another, and Thranduil shall not have Legolas," Elrond growled, settling into the rhythm of the horse. "He is ours."

Chapters 19 through 21

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