The old ways

With trembling fingers Legolas fastened his quiver as good as it was possible and called for a stable boy to help him onto the horse.
Knowing perfectly that Elrond had forbidden him to ride, the young prince took a deep breath and mounted Arod.
Once he was on the horse he felt at ease and carefully rode ahe whe way to the main gate. The feeling of dread had increased during the last hour and Legolas could almost feel the danger his father appeared to be in.

Arwen had needed more time than expected to find her father. She stormed into the future throne room and nearly skidded to a halt when she saw her father and Aragorn deeply in conversation.
“Father! Estel!” She cried out.
Both looked up and Aragorn was instantly on his feet seeing her distressed face.
“Arwen, love. What is the matter?” Aragorn tried to hold her by her shoulders but the elf ignored him and turned to her father instead.
“Father! Come quickly, Legolas …, something seems to be wrong with Thranduil. He wants to go after his father. Come. We have to stop him.”
Elrond had jumped up and actually broke into a run hearing his daughter’s words. Arwen and Aragorn followed at his heels.
Aragorn shot Arwen a questioning glance but she didn’t knew what her father was going to do, so she shook her head slightly and kept on running.
Elrond hoped that they would catch Legolas in time for he was sure that the prince had taken a horse.
He knew that father and son shared a very tight bond but Legolas didn’t know where Thranduil had been heading and so would have to rely only on his senses to find him. Thanks to the Valar that Thranduil had told him about the surprise for his son and where it was.
Elrond stormed into the stable. Arod’s box was empty.

Legolas urged his horse into a gallop as soon as he had passed the large gates of Minas Tirith. His body swayed slightly trying to get his body back into balance. He held tightly onto the reigns and pressed his lips together, trying to ignore the increasing amount of pain and uneasiness spreading throughout his body.

Dusk was settling and the woods into the distance faded into the darkness, leaving Legolas without much chance to look for any tracks that might have given him the possibility to locate his father. Carefully he slowed down his faithful Arod and took a deep breath.
He knew that his father was out there somewhere, but he had no idea as to where exactly.


With horror Gimli stared at the crumbled form of the usually proud and unyielding form of Thranduil. It was getting harder and harder to make out the battered body in the twilight and Gimli hoped that he had been right, when he had seen the wounds already starting to close up.
A short while ago the leader of their kidnappers had come back with some of his followers, consisting of some more wild men and orcs and had beaten the King to the ground. Gimli had been able to hear the sickening sound of breaking bones and the far more subdued sounds of tortured flesh from his position. But unlike before Thranduil had hardly made sounsound. Whether because of his pride or because he simply wasn’t able to, was beyond the dwarf.

Now all he could make werewere shallow and unsteady breaths and faint groans from time to time, indicating that the King was still alive.
With determination and a burning hatred in his heart the dwarf concentrated again on destroying his bonds. He had to get free somehow.

Suddenly the footsteps of more then just a few persons returned and the dwarf could barely make out some of the wild men again.
They were carrying some rope and blades of some sort.
It was hard to see what they were up to and only the laughter and agonised sound coming from Thranduil indicated that they were again torturing the poor elf.y ley left far more quickly than Gimli would have expected and on their way past the dwarf, they came over to him to check his bonds and kick him a few times in his back and belly, causing the dwarf to curl up into a more protective position.

Gimli waited until their tormentors had left and straightened up as far as it was possible to see if he could make out what had happened to his best friend’s father.
Thranduil was bound at his wrists, thus tied to a large and sturdy branch on a nearby tree his feet dangling only a few inches above the ground. Beneath his feet Gimli could see something glittering in the dark and immediately knew what it was.
The wild men had lowered the blades into the ground, so that only the sharp edges looked out. To this point Thranduil feet where still an inch or so above them, but the elf’s arms would soon tire and the weight of his own body stretch his spine far enough to scrape the feet over the blades. It was all just a matter of time.
The King’s head was hanging low between his shoulders and he didn’t seem to have enough energy left to lift it.
“Gimli,” the voice was barely audible “please try to get out of here. You have to tell the others about these creatures. Do you hear me?”

“Of course I hear you.” Gimli’s voice was rough and angry in the attempt to hide his concern. “But if you think I will leave you hanging here, you ansannsane. Oh, and don’t try to argue with me, you will have as little influence on me as your son!”
the dwarf again started the struggle against his bonds, frowning when they wouldn’t budge even a bit.


Haldir lead his group of men along the edges of a vast forest and frowned inwardly. He had been able to follow the tracks of that large group as far as here, but amongst the trees and in the darkness it was hard to keep track. Too many other tracks, made by animals large and small distorted the main ones he was looking for. He called out for his riders ordeordered them to ride in a straight line, side by side through the woods, in order to cover more ground.


Legolas tried desperately to bent down as much as he could on his horse to look out for any signs or tracks on the ground. Halting his horse for a moment he analysed the situation. Where could his father have been heading? Had the dwarf been with his father again?
In that case, they would have most likely taken a well travelled path. He knew that Gimli detested riding through the woods and so always wanted it to be a quick travel.

Cocking his head to on side, Legolas surveyed the edge of the forest. A little to his right a small gap was still clearly visible, obviously leading to a narrow path south.
South. South? Hadn’t Gimli once told him something about riding through Ithilien with Faramir?
The blond elf whispered to his horse and determinedly choose the path heading south.


After only bruises had formed on his wrists, now the skin was swollen and torn, blood seeping from the open flesh. Gimli ignored the stinging pain from the sweaty ropes still holding his hands tightly together and continued fighting to get them loose.
It had been at least an hour by now that the dwarf had heard any sounds coming from the elf, who was now nearly totally hidden in the darkness. Had it not been for the dwarf’s keen eyesight in the darkness, he might not have been sure that the elf was still there. Gimli could still out out the pale form, hanging from that branch, sometimes swaying slightly, like a leaf in a breeze. The alabaster skin was marred and crusted with dirt and blood. As for the feet..... to Gimli they seemed to be two dark lumps at the end of the legs. He had heard Thranduil’s agonised breaths and groans as he no longer was able to keep his feet from being cut open by the blades.

It drove him mad to no end that he still hadn’t freed himself and he felt that particular white and hot madness coiling up deep inside his belly. It had only happened to him once before in a battle a long time ago. It was something he could not control and he was frightened of. It occurred not among all the dwarves, only some were known as battle mad. It was like loosing every inch of self-control, forgetting caution and defence. If the heat, as they called it, came over a dwarf, it was most likely that he was killed in battle or would simply exhaust himself beyond the possibility of recovery.


Elrond had taken the next elven horse that had been at hand, had thrown the reigns on and mounted it without further delay. Aragorn followed suit and drove his heels hard into the horse’s flanks trying to catch up with Elrond. To their advantage, it had stopped snowing and Legolas’ tracks were, even though it was fairly dark already, clearly visible on the white ground.
Carefully Elrond and Aragorn guided their mounts down the long and winding lanes of Minas Tirith, not wanting to slip. Legolas must have driven his horse forward with more speed than sensible, his tracks showed long streaks where the horse had skidded on icy patches. Aragorn saw Elrond shake his head and muttering to himself. It had been a long time since the King of Gondor had seen his foster father thus worried.

A pale and slender hand resting gently on the horses neck brought it to a halt. Legolas closed his eyes, concentrating on the sounds around him in the forest. This wood was alien to him and he doubted that it was going to help him. Very little was to be heard, hardly any beasts were up and about, no breeze catching itself in the bare twigs and branches.
With a frustrated growl Legolas urged his horse forward again and hope to find any sign of his father soon.


Through a haze of pain and tiredness, Thranduil could make out the twisting form of the valiant dwarf. The constant muttering and swearing had meanwhile turned into grunts and heavy breathing. Had Thranduil not been so exhausted and full of pain he would surely have been worried and maybe even a little scared.
Suddenly Gimli roared and flexed his abused muscles once more. His view was obstructed by the blazing of madness before his eyes, his ears were ringing and his blood pumping with a violent speed through his body. Sudden silence settled around the two unlike beings and then the sound of ripping rope was heard. With a howl of triumph Gimli threw his arms up in the air, ignoring the pain in the muscles and quickly grabbed the rope that held his ankles together and also tied to a tree. With another fearsome roar he ripped it apart and spun around facing in the direction of the now nearing footsteps.

The wild men, orcs and their leader had heard the dwarfs shout and had jumped to their feet immediately. Readying their weapons they carefully approached the small clearing. At first everything seemed to be like it had been when they left their two prisoners. The elf was still hanging as he should be, his feet by now severely cut open by the blades and the dwarf lying like a lump near another tree. But suddenly that lump jumped up. Far more quickly than anybody would have expected a dwarf to move, the small creature shot over to the wild men and smashed into the group like a ram, taking down several at once.

Foes, foes everywhere. He could smell and hear them. ‘Let them come.’ Gimli thought and huddled down on the ground, his muscles coiled, ready to move at any n mon moment. Wanting to maim, to crush and to tear apart. There, they were coming. Slowly, carefully they edged into the clearing, nearing the near dead being hanging from a tree.
Like a shot the dwarf was up and with all the power he could muster and his weight he threw himself right into the group of approaching enemies. He heard some bones crush, felt the warmth of blood, pouring from wounds where his enemies had cut themselves in the fall. Blind with rage the dwarf grabbed the next object that appeared to be a weapon. Even though he was hardly able to wield a two handed sword properly, Gimli hacked at everything that moved. Cutting of limbs wherever he hit.

Those not taken down by the fierce attack now surrounded the raging dwarf, attacking him from behind. More than once one of the attackers managed to wound the dwarf but the stout creatures didn’t even flinch once, nor did he cease his attacks on his foes in front of him.
Many already lay slain at his feet but more were coming and it looked like a battle lost.


A weird and brute sound suddenly echoed through the silence of the forest. It sounded like a wounded animal in anger. Legolas halted his horse in its tracks and listened. The faint clatter of metal and the subdued sounds of a battle made his heart jump and he readied his bow before giving his horse a command to slowly advance in the direction of the noise.
After what seemed hours to the elf he could make out a waving mass of creatures, consisting of foul orcs and even worse wild men. Many lying either dead or wounded on the ground, others fighting an invisible foe and some waiting with readied weapons for their turn. Obviously somebody was in deep trouble here.

Legolas turned his horse sideways and notched an arrow. His swollen body hindered him less than he would have expected but he gathered it would be differently once he had to fight on foot.
Aiming carefully, the blonde prince targeted one of the larger creatures and fired. With a rather faint yelp the large orc sacked down, dead before his body even hit the ground.
With a surprised roar some of the beasts turned their heads in the direction of the elf, but could not make him out yet. Taking his chance, Legolas continued firing at them until he had to flee the scene. The last thing he wanted was to dismount and fight on foot. The risk of getting hurt and with it the child was far too great. Arod obediently jumped into a canter and Legolas steered the horse behind a ground of dense growing trees.
Again he waited until his enemies were near enough and immediately fired a volley of shots at them.


Haldir suddenly lifted his head and signalled his men to a halt. The noises of a battle were not to be overheard amongst the stillness of the woods.
With a triumphant battle cry Haldir motioned his soldiers forward, riding hard towards the scene of battle.


His body screamed from exhaustion, his heart was about to give up and his hands were hardly able to grip the handle of the sword tightly anymore but nothing could stop him now. It would continue until he would eventually break down and most likely his body would give up in the same moment.
Somewhere in the distance somebody was fighting with him, taking his enemies down in a flight but still there were more coming.

Then from out of nowhere riders stormed the clearing, beheading foes and chasing some of them into the darkness. Some riders followed them, making sure they would not see the light of day.
Gimli heard shouts, somebody calling his name. Somebody coming towards him. He raised the sword ready to strike growling at whoever was approaching him.
Eyes glowed wildly at the person before him. Silver hair was whipping around a fair face. With a shout Gimli charged at the person, but before he could strike, something hard and heavy hit his head, making his knees buckle.
With a soft sigh the dwarf crumbled to the ground, breathing heavily.

Only now did Haldir see Thranduil and how he was hanging from that tree. The march warden moved forward quickly, shock written clearly across his face, when suddenly a loud and tormented cry made him spin around.

“Ada!”
Legolas rushed onto the clearing and jumped off his horse as quickly he he could manage in his condition.
With tears in his eyes, the prince rushed to his father’s side and dropped to his knees, lifting the feet away from the blades with gentle hands.

“Legolas!” Haldir looked at his husband in disbelief. What was he doing here?
“Help him!” Legolas shouted angrily at Haldir.
With slightly trembling hands Haldir put his arms around the King’s waist and nodded to a soldier to cut the rope holding the King.
As soon as the rope was, cut the form of Thranduil slumped lifelessly into Haldir’s arms.
Legolas was crying openly now, still cradling his father’s . “W. “What have they done to you, Ada?” With tender fingers Legolas was stroking the pale lengths of his father’s legs.


“Legolas!” a cry echoed across the clearing. Elrond and Aragorn had ridden hard to follow the young elf and now sped onto the battleground.
They found the blond elf kneeling by Thranduil’s side, blood staining his legs, tears on his face and his complexion paler than usual.

“Legolas,” Elrond quickly dismounted and kneeled down by the prince’s side, afraid that something had happened to the pregnant elf. “Are you hurt? Are you in any pain?” But Legolas only continued to stare blindly at his father’s legs and feet, still caressing them.
Only then did Elrond see the damage that had been done to the King of Mirkwood.
“By the Valar!” he cried out and quickly turned his gaze at the King’s face. “Built a stretcher. Now!” the elf Lord bellowed at no one in particular, being used to the fact that he had enough authority to command any person around him. And as expected immediately some of Haldir’s men got down to the task.

Elrond shooed Haldir away from Thranduil’s side, who lay him very gently down on the ground and started checking the rest of the battered body.
Deep cuts on his arms and legs were already in the process of healing, angry blotches of purple and black around the torso indicated that the King had been severely beaten and the body was covered in a sheen of cold sweat while the breathing was shallow and unsteady. All the signs of a deep shock hung around the broken elven form and Elrond quickly unfastened the clasps of his cloak, gently wrapping the shive for form in it.
He turned back to Legolas, who was still sitting as before and hadn’t even so much as twitched a muscle.
Carefully Elrond pried the bleeding feet from the prince’s grip and took a good look at them. The soles had been cut open to the bare bone and chunks of flesh were hanging loosely from ligaments that were still intact. Elrond winced at the sight and gestured to Aragorn to get him some sort of cloth, so he could cover the abused feet for transportation.
Only when the stretcher was ready and Thranduil had been placed upon it, the elf Lord turned to the kneeling Legolas. Anger and frustration was clearly written across his face.
“What did you think you were doing?” he asked in a sharp voice.
“You could have been hurt! What about your child!” Aragorn joined in with his foster father.
“Now, get Let Let me have a look at you!” Elrond’s voice made it clear that he was in no mood to discuss this.

Legolas slowly got up from his knees, wincing slightly from the pain of kneeling down for a long time and stood, head bowed, before Elrond.
Haldir had moved behind his husband and laid a supporting hand on his shoulder.
“Now,” Elrond muttered “tell me. Have you any more good ideas, like your last one? Endangering not only yourself, but also your child? Are you ever going to learn that it is not you alone any more?”
Even though his tone was harsh with worry, Elrond’s hands were as gently as ever, probing the swollen abdomen, checking for bruises or strained muscles.

“Why didn’t you call us?” Aragorn wanted to know. “We could have gone and helped your father. “If Arwen would have pulled such a stunt whilst carrying our child......”
“Stop chiding him!” Haldir suddenly raised his voice in anger. “I am not happy about the fact that Legolas endangered himself in battle again,” Haldir had figured out by now what had happened but it felt wrong to him to shout at Legolas in a time like this. “But do you honestly believe he would have stood aside? His father was only too obviously in grave danger. It was lucky that he felt it. And he was here to help. And don’t call him irresponsible! It was clever of him to stay on his horse and only use his bow from the distance. Actually he was acting less rash than any of you!”
Both Aragorn and Elrond turned to Haldir with surprise and wonder.
Had they heard right? Had Haldir been defending husbhusband even though Legolas had indeed endangered his child’s life?
“Stop staring at me like that. Maybe you should better have a look at Gimli right now. I don’t know what has happened but he doesn’t seem to be in a good shape either.” Haldir glared at his two opposites

For the first time Legolas turned his head in direction of the crumbled form of his dear friend Gimli. As if woken from a trance, the blond prince stumbled over to him and crouched beside the lifeless body. Turning him over to his back with a gentleness that Haldir had never expected, Legolas lovingly stroked loose strands of coarse red hair away from the dwarf’s face.
“Gimli.” Legolas whispered “Gimli, can you hear me?” Worry edged the delicate lines of his face as he wiped beads of sweat from Gimli’s brow. But the dwarf didn’t hear him.
Elrond neared and studied the dwarf for a few moments. He had heard of something like this. Or maybe he had read about it. Dwarves falling into a battle frenzy. There was no way to stop them, no way to get through to them. Most of those dwarfs had died afterwards.
But maybe they still had a chance with this one. By knocking Gimli unconscious they might have saved his life.

Shortly afterwards a second stretcher had been build and the group of elves and soldiers left for Minas Tirith. Elrond was monitoring Thranduil and Gimli, Aragorn was leading and Haldir had joined Legolas on Arod holding his exhausted husband close.
Haldir’s sleeves were soaked by now, but he couldn’t stop the constant flow of tears that ran down Legolas face. The young elf had very nearly lost two dear ones this night and it still wasn’t sure whether one of them might not live to see the next day.

He had been furious at first when Legolas had approached from the depths of the woods, but soon his pity for his husband had taken over and he had felt the urge to protect him against everybody else.
Once they were going to be back in Minas Tirith, he would draw his husband a bath and hold him close for the rest of the night. Maybe tomorrow he could ask him why he had followed his father alone, instead of asking for the help of others.

When the towering city came into sight Elrond was relieved. Soon he could offer his patients the treatment they needed. He asked himself for the thousandth time why Gimli and Thranduil had chosen to return to Ithilien at night. Suddenly he smacked his forehead and quickly signalled one of the Gondorian soldiers over to him.
Quickly stepping aside, Elrond talked to the soldier in quite words explaining what he was supposed to do. After having received his orders, the soldier turned his horse and made haste in delivering Elrond’s message.
Elrond sighed again and moved back to his former position between the two stretchers.

Haldir had talked endlessly to his husband trying to get the tired elf to follow him to their chamber and leave Elrond to his works. Legolas had refused to leave his fathers side and only after the elf Lord had raised his voice against the prince, Legolas had given up and now tried to relax the best he could in the hot water, while Haldir rinsed his body off dirt and blood, caressing his skin on the way.
Later in bed, Haldir still felt the tremors wracking Legolas body from time to time, but when one of the maidens had softly announced herself and had delivered the message from Lord Elrond that both patients were out of immediate danger and resting, Legolas had immediately slipped into a deep and dreamless sleep.

Early the next day Thranduil woke, his body trembling slightly from the strain and still lingering pain in his feet. He found Elrond bent low over the dwarf’s body checking breathing and reflexes.
His memory was cloudy and not all too vivid but what he could remember were pieces of wood on the forest ground. Pieces that were somehow important. Men running towards him, hurting him and then suddenly it all returned. The beatings, the torture, Gimli fighting like a madman against his bonds. He raised his hands before his face and drew a shuddering breath.

Elrond spun around and looked surprised at the woodland King. “Thranduil! You are awake.”
Thranduil only nodded weekly.
Gentle hands pulled his hands away from his face, not giving him the chance to hide the tears of shame.
“My, friend. Come now, rest at peace. You are safe, Gimli is obviously recovering and I even sent someone to your secret place to inform the workers there that you wouldn’t come for the next days.”
“I never saw or heard them coming, Elrond. I was so absorbed in my thoughts. I should have been more careful. I brought this misery upon us.”
“Don’t talk nonsense. You brought nothing upon us. It is only too natural that your thoughts were occupied. Your son will be giving birth soon, you want the surprise to be ready beforehand and you were accompanied by a dwarf.”
Suddenlrandranduil’s eyes widened “The crib!”
“The crib?” Elrond looked perplexed.
“These beasts had scattered the parts on the ground. Have you found them?”
“Thranduil, we had more important matters at hand. I am sure nobody paid any attention to a few pieces of wood on the ground.” The desperation in Thranduil’s face took Elrond aback.
“If it is so important to you, my friend. I will send someone out there and if he finds anything, I will tell him to bring it to Ithilien.”
Thranduil smiled weakly and Elrond could see the King relax back into the pillow. Only seconds later Thranduil’s ebecabecame vacant and Elrond sighed knowing the King had slipped back into a well earned healing sleep.

t.b.c.