We must walk open-eyed into that trap, with courage, but small hope for ourselves. For, my lords, it may well prove that we ourselves shall perish utterly in a black battle far from the living lands; so that even if Barad-dûr be thrown down, we shall not live to see a new age. But this, I deem, is our duty. And better so than to perish nonetheless – as we surely shall, if we sit here – and know as we die that no new age shall be.

Gandalf, Return of the King

Chapter 5: To comply with one's duty, regardless how difficult

Crouched low on the branch--a position that soon would become unbearably painful--Legolas followed Colloth around the slender trunk of the beech they currently occupied, Tureden at his heels and Lanthir somewhere above him. They had tracked the faint trail Legolas had left earlier while hurrying to the Oak--a bent blade of grass here, a slight indentation in a muddy patch there--until they were nearly to the northern side of the base of the mountain. Nearly to the cave that held the hidden door.

Legolas carefully watched where Colloth grasped the branch of the next tree and placed his hand in exactly that spot once Colloth stepped forward. Since he was a very young child, Legolas had made a game with his cousins and uncles and aunts of moving silently through the forest. Since he was deemed old enough to participate in the hunts for the festivals, that activity ceased to be a game and became a skill required to bring home game. One he thought he was fairly good at since he had brought a deer to every festival for the last ten years. Still, he had never seen anyone move as silently as they were now. Legolas would bet that if a deer were present on the mountain, Colloth could have crept directly over it, without it ever detecting his presence, and jumped onto its back. He had learned more about scouting in the last hour than he had in months of training exercises.

Of course, this was not an exercise. This was life or death. Most immediately, it was his own life or death. Legolas did not doubt that Manadhien's servants would target him and not his father should they be spotted. They knew it would kill Thranduil to see Legolas die, but much more painfully than if he were shot with an arrow himself, and that was what Manadhien wanted--to make Thranduil suffer. But more importantly than even that, this search represented life or death for the people of this realm. That passage must remain secret and Legolas was determined to see that it did so, no matter the cost.

They traveled through a half dozen more trees before Thranduil and Colloth, scouting a bit ahead and to the right of Legolas and his guards, both froze and signaled for Pendurion and Belloth to do the same. Thranduil's hand went instantly to his quiver. From his peripheral vision, Legolas saw that Tureden's did the same. Their arrows slid silently free and were nocked against their bowstrings.

Thranduil looked at Legolas, signaling him to remain in place.

Legolas acknowledged the signal, but did not understand it. He carefully searched the forest, but he did not see what his father saw.

"Directly in front of the king, about two dozen trees forward, in the beech whose leaves have just begun to turn. Three quarters of the way up, to the left of the trunk," Colloth breathed into his ear.

Legolas followed his directions and leaned forward slightly, squinting into the starless dark. There was a shadowy form in that tree. Something crouched in it. Definitely an elf. He had just turned his face away, looking behind himself when Legolas saw him. He could not identify him, but his father obviously had.

Thranduil stood slowly on his branch. Conuion, Pendurion and Belloth did the same, Conuion to shield the king; Belloth and Pendurion to fight. Thranduil, Pendurion and Belloth carefully extended their bows in front of them, arrows nocked, fingers on the string. They targeted the enemy.

Legolas drew a quiet, steadying breath. From this angle, at least, it appeared his father's shot was aimed at the elf's chest.

The shadow turned back around, looking intently at the trees where Thranduil and his guards were hidden.

Legolas tensed involuntarily. It was Mauril.

The king and his guards waited, perfectly still, holding their aim without drawing. Mauril's gaze passed over them and on to the west.

A gust of wind blew through the trees, making leaves rustle and branches knock together. Under the cover of that noise, Thranduil, Belloth and Pendurion simultaneously drew their bows. Mauril never moved. Never indicated he heard their bows bend.

The wind quieted.

They released.

"You there! Identify yourself," a voice shouted. The speaker was obscured by the curve of the mountain.

Mauril stood on his branch and ducked behind the trunk.

"That is one of them!" a familiar voice shouted--Anastor. "That is Mauril!"

Three arrows--the king's and his guards--flew past Mauril, through the empty space he had just occupied, causing him to flinch back. His head spun around and his eyes locked on Thranduil.

Conuion stepped fully in front of the king, drawing his sword. Thranduil's next arrow was already nocked.

Mauril whipped out an arrow and sent it straight at Conuion and Thranduil. Legolas's heart leapt to his throat, but Conuion and Thranduil jumped to another branch to evade the attack. In the time that took, Mauril made his escape, moving through the trees, zig-zagging back and forth, up and down from branch to branch, fleeing as swiftly as he could, straight up the rise of the mountain, as if he intended to climb over it. That was the only escape route available to him with the king on his western flank and the patrol approaching him from the northeast.

As Mauril's arrow sank into the trunk of their tree, Thranduil and his guards released another shot at him. Tureden loosed his nocked arrow as well. It sliced Mauril's leg, just above his knee, knocking him momentarily off balance, but not enough to throw him from the trees. At least one of the guard's arrows flew towards Mauril's shoulder. Thranduil's was aimed to strike him squarely between his shoulder blades.

Seeing the trajectory of his father's arrow, Legolas grimaced and looked away. At least the king would not been forced to stand in front of Mauril and kill him with his sword. An arrow seemed like a much more remote means of executing him. There was some blessing in that.

"Stop," the same voice that had ruined their initial shot called out.

"He does not escape under any circumstance," Thranduil ordered, loudly enough for his own guards and the patrol to all hear.

Legolas looked back at Mauril swiftly. There was no possibility both his father's shot and the guard's would have missed.

But Mauril was alive. He was struggling to right himself. He had been knocked from the branch he was on to the one below it, but he was still fleeing.

Legolas did not understand. His father's shot should have killed him. Then, through torn fabric, Legolas caught a glimpse of metal. Mauril was wearing mail. All the guards and the king took another shot at him, this time targeting his lower body. The moment Mauril heard the first arrow release, he leapt up to a higher branch and then dodged left and right. If any of the arrows hit him, they did little more than cut him. He was not slowed.

Arrow nocked, Thranduil wasted no more time--he gave chase, Conuion, Pendurion and Belloth surrounding him. The patrol was a few steps  behind them.

Legolas drew an arrow and started through the trees after Mauril as well.

"Legolas, stop," Tureden said.

"Legolas," Colloth called. "I am not certain the king intended for you to engage any of Manadhien's servants."

Legolas ignored them. The king had said Mauril was not to escape and that was the order he was obeying. Mauril had been sitting right above the entrance to the cave that held the secret door. He had certainly discovered that cave and was probably waiting for Legolas to come back to reveal the location of the door inside it. Legolas spared a moment to thank the Valar that he did not have the opportunity to re-enter the stronghold through that door. He would not have opened it for Mauril, no matter how he had been threatened. But still, what if Mauril had followed him into the cave at unawares and waited to plant an arrow in his back until after he opened the door. Legolas tried to breath. The door at the other end of the tunnel still would have been closed. Mauril would not have gained access to the stronghold unless he had managed to follow Legolas into the tunnel, and even as careless as Legolas had been, he could never have been inattentive enough to allow that to go unnoticed. Even so, the mere thought of how close Mauril had come to his family--his cousins and uncles and aunts...his mother--all because Legolas had wanted to go to the Oak!

Legolas's ribs screamed as he caught a branch with his left hand to steady himself after a particularly long jump to the next tree. He dismissed the pain and pressed forward. In his peripheral vision, he saw Galuauth, Anastor and the two warriors from the patrol pacing him to his left. They were all several trees back from his father's position and his father was a good distance back from Mauril.

Mauril fled, heedlessly leaping from tree to tree, barely catching branches, risking slender limbs. He had nothing to lose and he obviously knew it.

Thranduil signaled for Belloth and Pendurion to ready, but hold, another shot as they continued their pursuit. When they had, Thranduil loosed his own arrow. In response, as he had before, Mauril leapt up higher into the tree and, with his next step, jumped to the left. Another signal sent Pendurion and Belloth's arrows flying, anticipating Mauril's attempts to evade them. One arrow struck Mauril low in the back. His mail protected him, but the impact sent him sprawling. In the time it took him to right himself, Thranduil and his guard had gained precious ground. Better still, when Mauril again began to run, he did so with a distinct limp. The other arrow must have done some damage to his leg.

Mauril's chances of escape were quickly diminishing. He was wounded. With every step, his limp worsened. Blood stained the branch Legolas had just run across. Bright red stained the ground below. Mauril would not be able to keep up this pace forever. They only had to run him down like a wounded deer.

Mauril suddenly slowed dramatically, looked side to side, and then veered left, heading straight down the eastern slope of the mountain.

Thranduil and his guards fluidly cut across to follow without pause, again shortening the distance between them and their prey. Legolas, Anastor and their guards did the same. Legolas frowned, trying to figure out why Mauril had turned--what advantage he hoped to gain. Then he heard water. Rushing water. The stream that ran down from the ridge of the mountain! It was already wide at this point in its journey to join the Forest River. Mauril must have feared trying to jump across it in the trees with his wounded leg.

Legolas smiled grimly. Mauril was now caught, though he may not yet realize it. He had made a bad choice going downslope. If he thought crossing the stream looked difficult, wait until he saw the cliff he was running straight towards!

That cliff was wide. It ran a third the breadth of the mountain. The stream poured over it, forming an upper and lower falls. The upper falls were so wide, a felled tree would not span them. They were impossible for a uninjured elf to cross. Mauril would never manage it in his current condition. And they were too tall to allow escape--they dropped as far as the trees were tall, pooling in a ledge on the mountain. The ledge was just wide enough for a few trees to grow on and for the water to gather before emptying to form an even taller lower falls.

As Thranduil and his guards drove Mauril straight forward, the king signaled the warriors to split away from them, preparing to cut Mauril off when he realized he was running towards the cliff. Mauril would be trapped between the cliff, waterfall, Thranduil and the warriors. They had him.

Mauril ran, headlong, for several more minutes, closely pursued. Then, he stopped dead, waved his arms, leaning forward wildly, before throwing himself back. For a moment he clutched the branch he stood on, staring straight down.

He must have found the cliff, Legolas thought. He did not have enough breath to laugh, else he would have.

Mauril spun around and faced his pursuers. He raised and drew his bow.

Conuion leapt between Mauril and the king. Tureden did the same with Legolas.

Mauril released arrows in quick succession, forcing Thranduil and Conuion to stop and dodge behind the trunks of the trees they occupied. Belloth and Pendurion returned Mauril's attack, drawing his attention to themselves and driving him to look for cover. He edged against a rock jutting up near the edge of the cliff, next to the head of waterfall, and continued releasing arrows.

Colloth and Tureden's hands seized Legolas's arms, one on either side of him, arresting his forward momentum and preventing him from approaching Mauril's position as closely as the king and his guards had. They pulled him behind the wide trunk of an old oak. As the warriors from the patrol ran by them, Galuauth deposited Anastor, protesting, next to him. Legolas shook his head at his friend and Anastor loosed a low growl, but did not attempt to escape. Instead, they peered around either side of the tree to watch. From this angle, they did not have a shot at Mauril worth taking, but it did not matter. Others did and Mauril could not escape. If nothing else, eventually he would run out of arrows and then this would be finished.

At a signal from Thranduil, the warriors, Belloth and Pendurion shifted position, maneuvering to Mauril's flanks, to better pin him in place and to find a more suitable angle to take him down. Mauril targeted them and Thranduil as best he could, but the trees did not ally with anyone threatening the king. They hid him, the guards and warriors from Mauril's attacks well.

For several moments, the forest was silent save for the twang of bow strings and the sound of arrows striking trees or rock.

A loud hoot sounded from directly behind Legolas, up-slope and from the north flank of the battle--from the direction Mauril would have to flee if he wanted to skirt around the cliff and continue his escape.

Involuntarily, Legolas looked over his shoulder. So did Tureden. From the corner of his eye, Legolas saw his father turn, but he did so fully, even bringing his bow around to bear on the noise.

Legolas experienced a flash of surprise and fear that his father had turned his back on Mauril, but he had no time to ponder the wisdom of that action. No sooner had the hoot faded than something struck Legolas hard over his shoulder blade. The next thing Legolas knew, he was landing on the ground hard enough to knock all the air from his lungs. Between the sharp pain in his back and ribs, he struggled to breath. His vision blurred and somewhere far away, he heard someone screaming his name. His father maybe. The forest around him began to disappear.

Hands seized his arms and pulled him up, dragging him. Something hard bit into his back. Legolas twisted away from it, fighting to avoid the pain.

"Be still," Tureden snapped.

Legolas was pulled forward and pressed, as if in an embrace, against someone's chest. Then the grip on his upper arms was released and the hands slid to his back, running over it firmly and then pressing over a painful place on his shoulder blade. He groaned involuntarily and the effort made his head swim again--it was a waste of breath, Legolas realized and clamped his mouth shut.

"It did not penetrate. The mail is intact," Tureden's voice called loudly next to his ear, as Legolas was pushed backwards again, against the hard surface. A tree, he foggily realized.

He slumped against it, finally managing to draw a full breath and to make sense of what was happening. An arrow. He must have been struck by an arrow. He made an effort to draw himself up to sit straight. His ribs and shoulder screamed, so he immediately abandoned the attempt. He heard whistling and thunking sounds all around himself. He also heard the creaks of bows being drawn. He forced himself to focus. He was on the ground, propped up against a tree, facing up-slope. Tureden, Lanthir and Colloth stood crouched in front of him, shielding him from the front as the tree did from behind, shooting as quickly as they could nock their bows. Anastor and Galuauth were next to Tureden, doing the same.

Legolas drew a steadying breath and looked past them. On the rise above him he saw Fuilin and Pelin, partially obscured behind two trees, raining arrows down upon them and his father's position.

No sooner did he spot them than Tureden slammed backward, into him. Legolas cursed. The weight of Tureden's body brought on another wave of pain and Legolas struggled to push him away. "For pity's sake, Tureden," Legolas moaned.

Colloth's face filled his vision, dragging Tureden to the side.

Legolas looked from Colloth's frown to his guard and he gasped. An arrow protruded from Tureden's chest. Legolas pulled himself to kneel facing Tureden.

"Stay where you are, Legolas," Colloth ordered. As he spoke, he was inspecting Tureden's injury. Legolas did so also. The arrow was a hand's breadth under Tureden's collarbone. Tureden's face was contorted in pain, but he was bringing himself back under control, breathing deeply. The arrow must be too high to have hit his lung. That was very fortunate.

"I will survive, Colloth," he grunted. "Finish this before it finishes us."

Colloth nodded, spun to face up-slope and returned to the fight.

Legolas's brows drew sharply together and he again straightened his back, breathing into the pain until he could ignore it. Then he reached for an arrow and tried to analyze the battle around him. Colloth, Lanthir, Galuauth and Anastor were fully exposed in the interest of shielding Legolas and Tureden. They needed to find some shelter quickly, but that meant getting on the opposite side of the trees and they could not risk that because Mauril was shooting at them from that direction. Legolas edged to peek from behind the tree to see how Mauril was faring. When he did, he spotted the two warriors lying, unmoving, on the ground between himself and the king. Belloth was also wounded. Like Tureden, he was propped up against a tree trying but failing to hold still as he writhed in pain. An arrow protruded from his hip. Thranduil, partially obscured by a tree and partially by Conuion, was shooting at Fuilin and Pelin. Pendurion was alone in trying to keep Mauril pinned down. Mauril was trying to creep northward, towards his brother and Pelin.

"We need to get Mauril out of this fight so we do not have two fronts," Legolas said, nudging Anastor's leg.

"Very well," Anastor responded. He swung around and started loosing arrows on Mauril.

Colloth glanced over his shoulder at Mauril. "Galuauth, see if you and Anastor can bring enough arrows to bear on Mauril to keep him from shooting. If they can, Lanthir, use that cover to get into a better position finish him. Go closer to the river. Give him two flanks to fight on."

With Galuauth and Anastor joining Pendurion to shoot at any exposed body part, Mauril was forced to hunker down behind a large tree on the edge of the cliff. Lanthir took his opportunity and dashed towards the river, ducking behind trees and rock for cover. Legolas followed him.

"Legolas, no!" Colloth called, but to no avail. Legolas and Lanthir had already sprinted half a dozen trees away before Colloth spoke.

Mauril caught sight of their movement and immediately figured out their intent. He risked being hit himself to lean out enough to shoot at them. An arrow whistled by Legolas's neck, reminding him to crouch down to make a smaller target. Then, Mauril's attack faltered for a brief moment. Legolas glanced at him in time to see him flinching from a slicing cut across the top of his bow arm made by one of Pendurion's arrows.

Legolas froze where he was. He had a shot, though only at Mauril's mail-protected body. Grimacing as he drew his bow, Legolas took it, sending an arrow at Mauril's chest, hoping the impact would stun him badly enough that he and Lanthir could capture him, or at least throw him off balance so that he would expose some more useful body part to a second attack from Lanthir.

Mauril's mail held, as Legolas expected. The arrow did not penetrate, but it did knock him onto his backside. Mauril dropped his bow to try to steady himself. Then his eyes widened. Mauril's hands spread out behind him, searching for support, but did not find it. They connected with nothing but open air. Mauril was too close to the edge of the cliff. He teetered backwards, struggling for balance.

Immediately after Mauril hit the ground, Lanthir, loosed several arrows in quick succession, all targeting the same point on Mauril's shoulder--an attempt to penetrate the mail. It protected him, but the force of the impact was too much. Mauril sprawled backwards. Too late, he grasped for any handhold in front of him--anything to anchor himself--but found nothing. He tumbled, backwards over the cliff.

Fuilin called his name and Legolas felt a stab of pity at the anguish in his voice. He looked back at him. Fuilin had rushed forward into the open, staring in horror at his brother's disappearing form.

Thranduil did not hesitate to take advantage of the opportunity that action offered. He loosed a volley of arrows, each hitting a single point on Fuilin's chest squarely. He was obviously wearing mail also. He went down, clutching his chest. Most of the arrows fell to the ground next him, but one penetrated, hanging loosely from Fuilin's body. Thranduil charged towards him and Pelin, followed closely by Pendurion and Conuion. Pelin pulled Fuilin to his feet, tore the arrow out of him, and began to drag him off, fleeing.

Legolas's gaze darted to Colloth, Anastor and Galuauth. Anastor's gaze was firmly fixed on the cliff where Mauril had disappeared. Galauath was still with Anastor, but his attention was torn between him and the small number of guards that had accompanied the king. Colloth also appeared concerned, but he turned to the wounded, first checking Tureden again and then jogging over to look at Belloth. He glanced at the two warriors as he passed them, but went by without pause. Dead, Legolas concluded and he closed his eyes for a moment, opening them in time to see his father disappear in the shadows of the trees in pursuit of Fuilin and Pelin.

Legolas stood and jogged over to the edge of the cliff. Lanthir followed him.

"Carefully!" he warned, grabbing Legolas's arm and holding him back from looking over the edge.

"He did not survive that fall, Lanthir," Legolas said, pulling away from him.

"Let me be certain of that," Lanthir replied, and he cautiously peered over the edge of the cliff.

Anastor came up along Legolas, Galuauth by his side. "Is he dead?" he asked.

Legolas started to nod, certain that Lanthir would see Mauril's broken body on the rocks below.

"I do not see him," Lanthir answered, now leaning over the edge. "He must have fallen into the water."

Legolas would not be held back any longer. He and Anastor both looked over the cliff, examining the water and then the underbrush on the ledge for any sign of Mauril's body.

"I do not see him either," Anastor said.

Legolas held his breath, searching. He might have fallen into the water and drowned. He might have been hit so hard that he was knocked back so far as to fall past the ledge and all the way to the base of the lower falls. But they needed to be certain of that.

"Look!" Anastor said. "Is that water on that rock there?" he pointed at a rock near the very base of the cliff--one too far away from the pool to have been splashed by the waterfall.

"It appears to be," Galuauth answered, dropping to his hands and knees to lean over for a better view.

"There," Legolas called, pointing into the underbrush. A moving form could just be detected, crawling away from the pool to the edge of the ledge.

All four of them drew an arrow, aimed it at the movement and released. Legolas caught a glimpse of tunic, sliding over the side of the ledge, moving faster in response to the rain of arrows.

"He is dead now. The fall to the bottom is too far to survive, and he would not hit the water from there," Galuauth said.

Legolas and Anastor both immediately shook their heads. "There is a path down there," Anastor said.

"It is steep, but we could manage it as young children. Mauril could do it, even wounded," Legolas added, looking from Anastor to Lanthir. "He is going to escape."

"No he is not," Anastor said, taking a few running steps back from the ledge and lining himself up with a likely tree below.

Legolas immediately recognized what Anastor intended. As determined as he was to stop Mauril, he hesitated to follow him. That jump was something he had done only a few times, when he was much younger, and, at that, only on a dare from Anastor. He thought it was insane then. Doing it now, with broken ribs...

Anastor shouldered his bow and ran straight at the edge of the cliff. Lanthir and Galuauth gaped at him a moment before both shouting at him to stop. He did not. He launched himself off the cliff, flew through the air for a long moment and then crashed into the tree below, catching himself on a thin branch that bent precipitously with his weight. He quickly righted himself and started fast down the tree.

Legolas set his jaw and backed up several steps as well.

"Legolas, do not dare!" Tureden ordered.

In his peripheral vision, Legolas saw his guard pointing at him and struggling to stand. Even Tulus would be doing the same, Legolas knew. "Mauril cannot be allowed to escape," he replied quietly, though the forest was quiet enough that his voice was clear for all to hear.

"Legolas, no," Lanthir said, taking a step towards him.

Legolas ran at the cliff and jumped. He flew through open air for an entire, long, gasping breath, forward and down. The moment he felt branches slapping against him, he caught the tip of one. It would not hold him, but it bent, drawing him in and slowing his fall. He rode it down until, with his other hand, he could catch a more solid hold onto the middle of a different branch. It also bent violently. Legolas struggled to maintain his hold on it as his ribs screamed in protest at this exertion. His feet made solid contact on a branch below. Legolas fought to find his balance and finally managed to.

Just as he started to climb down, the tree swayed, forcing Legolas to stop and clutch his branch. Lanthir had made the jump after him. He grabbed a tree limb, lost his hold and scrabbled for a new one, sliding mercifully inwards, towards the trunk. Its solid mass slowed his fall, perhaps a bit too abruptly, but still, he also managed to find his balance. Once he had, he clung to the trunk for a long moment. Galuauth followed him in much the same manner. Anastor was already on the ground and running towards the trail down to the lower falls by the time they all started a fast descent themselves.

As he climbed, Legolas heard crashing sounds--branches snapping, leaves rustling fiercely--like a panicked deer crashing through the brush. He tried to locate the source of the noise as he hurried down his tree. Finally he spotted it--Tureden!. He had made the jump to follow him and was dropping too quickly from branch to branch, in the upper-most crown of the next tree over. Legolas watched and willed his guard to find a solid handhold. Tureden fell, in an only somewhat controlled manner, nearly half the distance from where he first leapt into the tree to a level equal to where Legolas had already managed to climb down, before fully righting himself. He paused a moment to locate Legolas. When he did, he pointed fiercely at the ground and started climbing himself. They all quickly reached the ledge.

Legolas immediately started to the trail.

"Legolas that was utterly insane," Tureden yelled as he ran to his side. "Lanthir and I both told you to stop."

Legolas did not stop walking, so Tureden dogged his steps. "And the king said that Mauril was not to escape under any circumstances," Legolas replied. "His order supersedes yours. Besides, I have made that jump before. I knew I could make it again. It is not that difficult..."

"Not that difficult!" Tureden repeated. "Colloth did not dare try it. I only did it because I am bound by my oath to follow you..."

"You are already injured in the service of that oath. Following me was what was insane. Lanthir was already with me...."

"Better Mauril escapes than you are killed pursuing him," Tureden said over him. "Do you honestly think the king would want him caught if it meant you had to die to do it?"

Legolas stopped at the head of the trail down to the base of the lower falls. Lanthir and Galuauth started down it, ahead of him, arrows nocked. Before following them, Legolas took a step closer to Tureden to speak into his ear. "Yes, I do think that, Tureden, in this instance. And I would give my life if it was necessary to stop him. That secret passage that I used--the tree we found Mauril in was right outside its door. He found it. I have no doubt of that. He was probably waiting for me to try to go back through it. As the king said in the Hall, the lives of the people in this realm that cannot fight--the people that would shelter in the stronghold against the enemy--might one day depend on that passage being a safe escape. By my carelessness, I compromised its location. By pursuing Mauril to prevent him from revealing its location, I am making sure that error is addressed. I am doing my duty. You do yours. Or turn me over to Lanthir if you are too badly injured to do it. But you will not argue with me about this and that is the end of it."

Tureden held Legolas's gaze for a long moment, glaring at him. Then he took a step back and nodded once.

Legolas turned and started down the trail, moving quickly to catch up with Anastor, the other guards and Mauril.

The path down was steep, with several switch-backs to make it passable. Legolas drew an arrow and searched the brush below him as constantly as he was able, given the difficulty of the descent, looking for Mauril. A few times, he glimpsed movement, so he knew Mauril was still ahead of them, but he only saw him very fleetingly--not well enough to target.

He was too far ahead, more than half way down the path. He would reach its bottom much sooner than Legolas, Anastor and the guards. If he disappeared into the forest, he would be very difficult to track over the rocky ground surrounding the stream. Legolas hoped he was still bleeding, both for the trail that would leave and for its potential to slow him down.

Watching below him for signs of Mauril, Legolas spotted a bit of the trail that was clear--no branches or trunks or rocks obscured his view of it. Or a shot to it. Legolas leaned over and searched for Mauril. He had not crossed that open portion of the trail. Legolas stopped, nocked an arrow and aimed, waiting to draw. With his injured ribs, he knew he could not hold his draw for long and he wanted to make this shot count.

Tureden saw what he was doing and did the same.

Legolas glanced at him. A fragment of the arrow that had hit him was still embedded in his flesh below his collarbone. Blood covered the front of his tunic.

"If you can shoot with broken ribs, I can with an arrow wound," Tureden said in reply to Legolas's skeptical expression.

Legolas only nodded.

Then it was Tureden's turn to look at Legolas sidelong. "When we hit him, since this trail is so narrow and steep, there is a good possibility he will fall to his death. Let me make this shot, Legolas. You do not want to bear the burden of such a deed and I do not want you to have to bear it."

Legolas shook his head and answered without taking his eyes off the rocks below. "Either we will kill him or we will capture him and the king will execute him. One way or the other, Mauril will be in Mandos before the sun rises. That is the king's judgment. That is what is necessary to protect this stronghold and the people it shelters. We are both charged to carry out the king's judgments and protect this realm and I do not fear to do so."

"Very well," Tureden whispered. "Remember he is wearing mail. We will disable him if we can and hope he does not fall. Aim for his hip or thigh if you can steady your shot well enough."

Again, Legolas nodded.

A moment later, Legolas saw motion in the thinning branches approaching the clear area. He targeted it. As soon as Mauril come into view, he aimed at a spot low on his hip, clenched his jaw as he drew his bow and loosed his arrow. Tureden's instantly followed, accompanied by a grunt. Both arrows struck their targets. Mauril contorted in pain, twisting and lurching sideways from the force of the impact. He lost his footing, scrabbled on the bare rock and then fell over backwards. They heard his body crashing through brush for several moments before the forest was silent again.

Legolas, Tureden on his heels, hurried down the trail, another arrow nocked, just in case. Anastor, Galuauth and Lanthir rushed ahead of them, picking their way down quickly but carefully. Legolas came upon them, arrows pointed at a still form caught on a low tree branch, hanging at an unnatural angle.

"He is dead," Lanthir said, lowering his bow.

Everyone else lowered theirs.

"Can you pull him down?" Legolas asked, speaking quietly.

Galuauth and Lanthir nodded. They climbed up onto the slope and reached for Mauril's legs, tugging him free of the tree and carrying him down to the trail. His head lolled back far more than normal. His neck was clearly broken from his fall. They laid him down and pulled the arrows from his body.

"That is two down, then," Anastor said with great satisfaction in his voice. "Lagril and Mauril. We should go the rest of the way down this trail and then double back north to see if we can help the king find Pelin and Fuilin." He stepped over Mauril's body without waiting for any response.

Legolas followed him before the guards could mount a protest.

"The elf with Fuilil--the one that would have killed you with that arrow had you not been wearing mail. That was Pelin?" Tureden asked when he caught up.

Legolas looked over his shoulder at him, eyebrow raised in response to Tureden's tone. "It was," he answered.

Tureden nodded. His expression gave Legolas the distinct impression that Pelin's face had just been permanently recorded in Tureden's memory. That same expression engendered in him just the smallest bit of pity for Pelin as Legolas swiftly concluded that Tureden would make a very bad enemy.

They reached the bottom of the lower falls and turned north, heading to the back of the stronghold--the direction in which Fuilin and Pelin had fled. As they walked along the base of the stronghold, they kept their attention focused up slope since they had been near the ridge of the mountain when they last saw them. They covered a distance half way back to the far northern side of the stronghold before they detected the soft sound of elven footfalls rustling in the leaf litter.

Tureden signaled Legolas to take cover. Legolas complied, quite pleased that his guard had not simply shoved him down. His ribs were now a constant, sharp pain. Tureden crouched next to him, between Legolas and the approaching noise. Lanthir joined him. Galauath and Anastor took up a position a few dozen paces across from them. Whoever was coming would pass between them. They waited and watched.

Thranduil and Conuion, weapons drawn, searching the underbrush, ran towards them. They froze and leapt behind a tree when they spotted the shadowy forms in front of them.

Tureden instantly called the signal used by the King's Guard and stepped openly into view.

Thranduil lowered his bow and did the same. His gaze darted over the guards, Anastor and Legolas. Then he looked up at the ridge of the mountain, where he had left them and back at Legolas. "How did you get down here?" he demanded.

"Over the cliff, through the trees," Legolas answered. "Mauril went over the cliff as well and survived the fall. He was escaping down the mountain. We had to stop him. And we did. He is dead," he added in explanation when his father's jaw dropped in outright horror. Thranduil's mouth worked, but he did not manage to say anything. Instead, he glared at Tureden.

The lieutenant of the King's Guard returned Thranduil's gaze evenly. "Mauril no longer represents a threat to the security of this stronghold. Is there anywhere else we should search to ensure no further threats exist, my lord?"

Thranduil stared at them and reached to cup Legolas's cheek. His hand slid from there to his shoulder, which he grasped firmly for a long moment. "The elf that was with Fuilin--that was Pelin?" he asked.

Legolas and Anastor nodded. "It was."

"He is also dead. He and Fuilin must have split up. We had them both in our sights and then, suddenly, we did not see Fuilin. Pendurion and some more of the Palace guard that we met went west to search for him. Conuion and I stayed on Pelin and brought him down. We were searching the eastern side of the stronghold to make sure Fuilin did not pass this way."

"Three of four. Very good," Anastor said softly.

"Indeed," Thranduil agreed, his smile as grim as Anastor's. "We need only to catch Fuilin and then we can end this." He turned back to Legolas. "You have done what I needed you to do here, and more. I want you and Anastor to go directly back into the stronghold," he ordered. "Inform Hallion what has happened and tell him and your naneth that I am searching a few more places before I can be satisfied the stronghold is secure. I will return inside once that is done. On your way in, ask one of the officers of the Palace Guard to collect Mauril, Pelin and Lagril's bodies. And then ask one of my Guard to escort Nestoreth to the stronghold to look at your ribs." He paused and looked at Tureden. "And Tureden's shoulder. Where are Colloth, Belloth and the two warriors that were with Anastor?"

"Still by the head of the waterfall, my lord," Tureden answered. "Colloth stayed with Belloth. The warriors are dead, I believe."

Thranduil frowned. "Send someone from the Palace Guard to help Colloth bring Belloth and the warriors down from the mountain as well," he said to Legolas.

Legolas hesitated, considering arguing that he be allowed to continue searching also.

"You are injured, Legolas," Thranduil said softly. "Since you would recognize Pelin, I was within my rights to ask you to help search for him despite that. It would not be just for me to ask more of you..."

"But I want..."

"Nor will I permit you to offer more. Neither I nor any of my captains allow injured warriors to continue fighting beyond immediate need. It is not right and worse, it can be dangerous. Both you and Tureden need to go inside. I will join you soon."

With obvious reluctance, Legolas conceded. "Yes, my lord." He took a step closer to his father. "You will look inside the cave? To determine how many of them were in there?" he whispered.

"Naturally," Thranduil answered. "I assume you walked straight out, so any other prints would not be yours?"

Legolas nodded.

"Go inside. Take Anastor with you," Thranduil ordered.

Offering him the shallow bow his ribs would allow, Legolas complied, gesturing for Anastor to follow. His friend rolled his eyes and loosed a loud sigh, but he did do as he was told.

*~*~*

Legolas set a fast pace around the eastern slope of the stronghold and back to the Green. He was careful to be very mindful of his surroundings even though he was walking on what should have been completely secure ground. He had made the mistake of assuming that once. He would not do so again. He complied with his father's request that he send the Palace Guard after Lagril, Pelin and Mauril's bodies and to help Colloth and Belloth. Then he went straight to the bridge to the stronghold.

"What news, my lord?" the Gate Guard asked as he straightened to attention when Legolas approached him.

The other guard that had stood with this one earlier took a few steps away from the door to the family quarters, where Conuion had repositioned him after moving Lanthir from that duty. He obviously hoped to hear the answer to that question as well.

By law, neither guard was supposed to distract himself from duty by talking. And since the stronghold itself might be threatened at the moment, Legolas considered answering by reminding them of that law. But, knowing what had happened was probably relevant to their duties. And besides, Hallion--who Legolas had been ordered to report to--along with Lindomiel and Legolas's cousins were already hurrying from the meeting table in the Hall into the antechamber to hear whatever it was that Legolas had to say. He might as well tell everyone at once.

"Mauril and Pelin are both dead. We saw Fuilin as well. The king and the rest of the Guard are still searching for him," he said loudly enough that everyone could hear. Then he proceeded to briefly recount all that had happened. As he did, he watched his mother and cousins stare in some horror at Tureden's wound. It was really a testament to the guard's endurance that he was still on his feet. Legolas knew he barely was and he had not been nearly as badly injured as Tureden. "Galuauth, could you please bring Nestoreth to the stronghold as the king requested?" he said once he finished his story.

"Yes, my lord," Galuauth replied and hurried back through the Gates.

The Gate Guards nodded their thanks to Legolas and turned their attention back to where it belonged.

At the same moment, Anastor started jogging off towards the door to the guest chambers. "I am going to tell nana what has happened," he said.

"And your adar, of course," Legolas replied, causing Anastor to groan and pick up his pace to avoid further comment. Legolas had no intention of fighting that battle. He had his own. He faced his mother, who was looking at him searchingly. "I am uninjured, nana. Thanks to Tureden and the other guards."

"And that mail," Tureden added under his breath.

Legolas cast him an exasperated glare when his mother's eyes widened. "Tureden and I are going to wait in the Hall for Nestoreth to look at his shoulder," he continued in an effort to distract her. "Once she is done with him, I will let her confirm my ribs are merely cracked again, listen to her lecture as politely as I can and promise to drink whatever vile potion she prescribes. There is no need for you to stay."  

Lindomiel laughed, though Legolas was not sure if she was laughing at his comment about Nestoreth's lecture and medicine or at his attempt to dismiss her. She merely turned to walk back into the Hall. Legolas stifled a sigh and followed her.

"At least New Foolish Tulus will be there to take his share of the blame for breaking your ribs this time," Berior said, aiming a dramatic glare at Tureden as he, Galithil and Eirienil went after them.

Legolas stopped dead upon hearing his cousin publicly repeat the name Langon had given Tureden. His eyes widened and his gaze flashed to Tureden to measure his reaction.

He made none at all, save to make his face expressionless.

Lindomiel and Hallion both turned as well. They looked from Berior to Legolas mildly, but with clear expectations.

Legolas felt heat rising in his cheeks. He had laughed at Langon's use of that name earlier today. It seemed much less funny now. "Berior," he said quietly, keeping his tone even, "I must insist that you treat Tureden with respect. No cross looks at him, no harsh words."

"He broke your ribs, Legolas," Berior interrupted. "Of course I am cross with him. You should be too."

"Tureden did not know that he should not ask me to spar. I never told him my ribs were injured and I should have," Legolas replied, speaking more firmly.

Berior looked over Legolas's shoulder at Tureden and shrugged. "If that is how you feel about it, it is not my business to meddle in."

"Moreover, he does not have an arrowhead embedded in his shoulder because he was careless. He was wounded so that I would not be killed," Legolas added, trying to make some impression on Berior.

It worked. Berior pressed his lips together and looked down.

"And I do not want to hear anyone call him 'New, Foolish Tulus,'" Legolas continued. "Ever. Honestly, Berior, you had to have heard that from Anastor and Noruil. Surely you know better than to repeat something they say. Tureden once guarded the High King himself, adar told me. He is far from foolish."

Now Berior looked chagrinned. "That was disrespectful, true enough." He faced Tureden. "I do apologize, Tureden."

"It is forgotten," he replied, still looking straight forward.

Berior looked regretfully at Legolas.

Legolas steeled himself and faced his guard himself. "I apologize also, Tureden. Sincerely. I would never have tolerated for a moment anyone, even Langon, speaking to Tulus in the manner that I allowed him to speak to you. And I laughed when he said it. That was inexcusably childish. Certainly it was completely disrespectful. It will not happen again. You have my word."

"Thank you, my lord," Tureden replied, still stone-faced.

Legolas bit his lip. "With time, perhaps you will come to trust that promise," he said softly.

Tureden looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "I trust now that you will not repeat such behavior yourself. And I see that you will not permit your friends to do so, which I appreciate." He paused and allowed a smile to light his eyes. "But I doubt your ability to command any of your lieutenants. Particularly the Dragon."

Legolas again blushed, glancing nervously at his mother. "Neither I nor any of my cousins started that, Tureden. I swear it. The older warriors were already calling him that. And we do not make a habit of making fun of anyone, much less our officers, in such a manner. None of us have ever referred to him with that name publicly. We have only done so amongst ourselves." He looked down. "Which, I suppose, is not particularly appropriate in itself. I do know how to be respectful, Tureden, though I will grant you that you have seen little evidence to support that claim."

The smile found its way to Tureden's lips. "Perhaps calling officers or fellow warriors names is not behavior the king's son can allow himself. You are a better judge of that than I. For my part, I found it funny when I first called Langon the Dragon. Of course, we were both very young warriors at the time."

Legolas gaped at Tureden, not believing that he understood his implication.

"Are you saying that you...were you the one that started that?" Galithil asked, eyes bright and on the verge of laughter.

Tureden nodded.

Galithil burst out laughing.

Legolas clutched his side to ease the pain as laughter claimed him as well.

"Langon and I go back a long, long time," Tureden continued, laughing lightly himself. "We were never friends and we never will be. Believe it or not, his personality has not changed even slightly since long before the moon rose." He grew more serious. "You were not and cannot be responsible for the way we treat each other."

Legolas looked at his guard sidelong, trying to speak earnestly. "Langon is difficult enough, Tureden. I have been training with him for almost a dozen years. I only have five more to endure. I beg you not to make them worse than they already must be."

"I am responsible for your safety after all, my lord," Tureden said with a deep bow. His eyes were bright with mirth.

Legolas gave in to laughter once more and made to turn towards the Hall, shaking his head.

He had taken a few steps when Tureden stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. Legolas looked back at him, still chuckling. His face grew instantly serious in response to Tureden's expression. His guard was looking at him gravely. "May I speak to you a moment longer, my lord?" he asked.

Legolas frowned. Tureden had spent the last few days yelling his name, at best. He had certainly never offered him any courtesies what-so-ever. Now he was addressing him with titles? Legolas almost feared what this change in attitude might forebode. "Of course," he answered, and gestured toward the Hall.

Tureden remained in place, darting a look at Lanthir and then over his shoulder at the Gate Guards. "What I must say to you is best said here, in the presence of the people...who were here earlier," he began. His voice was stiff and his gaze now fixed on the floor.

Legolas adopted the neutral expression he was required to wear in his father's court, recognizing what Tureden was about to do. This was an apology and, frankly, one he was due. It did not, given Tureden's tone, appear to be a particularly heart-felt one, but Legolas was willing to start with a token expression of repentance if that was the best Tureden could muster. At least he seemed to recognize the importance of making one in front of the people whose perception of Legolas might have been damaged by his previous actions.

Believing Tureden was less than sincere, Legolas was stunned by his guard's next action.

Tureden dropped to his knees on the stone floor of the antechamber. "My lord, I spoke to you earlier--indeed, since I was assigned to guard you--in a manner that is completely improper given your station and mine. And I wrongly accused you of lying. I understand now that every word you said was completely true and, not having the full information myself, I should have simply trusted what you were telling me. It certainly was not my place to argue with you. My treatment of you was abominable. I am ashamed of it and I regret it. I beg your forgiveness."

Legolas stared at his guard in silence. Lanthir and the Gate Guards, both of whom had turned fully to face this spectacle, were looking down at Tureden with the same imperious--and righteously offended--expressions the king himself might have worn while hearing such an apology, knowing it was owed to him. Berior and even Eirienil were staring at Tureden. Like Lindomiel and Hallion, Galithil managed to maintain a neutral expression. Legolas hoped he had, as well.

"You have my forgiveness, Tureden," he said as soon as he managed to find his voice. "It is forgotten. Please get up."

As Tureden arose from his knees, Legolas turned back around. "Shall we wait for Nestoreth in the Hall?" he suggested. Without pausing for a response--Legolas was too exhausted to bear much more--he passed through its doors. Everyone followed him silently. He did not bother to walk all the way to the meeting table at the foot of the dais. Instead, he sank into a chair at the closest scribe's table. His family sat around him. Tureden and Lanthir waited for an invitation to sit, which Legolas hurriedly made.

Once he sat, Tureden leaned towards Legolas, studying him closely. "My lord, I also apologize for forcing you into that duel. I had no idea your ribs had been injured. I assumed, since you returned to training, that whatever injuries you had were healed. Had I known, I would have never suggested you spar, much less would I have failed to pull my hits. Before tonight, I had never injured any elf, much less one I took an oath to protect. I cannot express to you how sorry I am for what I did to you."

That apology sounded considerably more sincere.

It also had elicited a surprised and angry glare from Lindomiel and Hallion in response to the admission that Tureden had not pulled his blows.

Legolas shook his head at them and then replied to Tureden. "As I already said to Berior, I should have refused the duel, Tureden. I should have told you that my ribs were still healing and that would have been the end of it."

"I should have made it my business to learn the nature of your injuries when I agreed to guard you," Tureden argued. "That is what I would have expected from anyone else assigned that duty. From the way you have carried yourself since your return, I honestly assumed you were not injured. I confess I was stunned to see that scar when you and Aewen were swimming. Having seen it, I should have suspected there might be more that I did not know and I should not have challenged you. We both know that once the challenge was made, it was very difficult for you to escape it. I know it will be little consolation as you heal cracked ribs, but you fought well. Especially so given that you were still recovering. I see no reason the Dragon should have dismissed you entirely from training today. After all, you did well tonight. Even if you nearly scared me to death jumping over that cliff after Mauril."

"What cliff!" Lindomiel exclaimed.

His cousins and Hallion all reacted with varying degrees of shock as well.

"Nothing you need concern yourself over, nana," Legolas said quickly. "As you can see, I am perfectly fine." He turned to his guard. "At some point Tureden, we will need to discuss the concept of privacy," he said very softly.

That earned him a raised eyebrow and the return of the cold glare.

Legolas started to fold his arms across his chest, but abandoned the effort when pained lanced across his side. "Honestly, Tureden, a little discretion might be in order? Would you have said anything about that cliff in the queen's presence if it had been the king that made that jump? Would you have said anything about the king and queen kissing in the pools next to the stronghold if you had been guarding them there instead of me?"

Tureden appeared ready to argue. He drew a breath to do so, drawing himself up in his chair. Then he slumped forward again. "No, I would not," he admitted.

"Then grant me the same courtesy," Legolas demanded.

"You are right, of course, my lord," Tureden replied.

Legolas sighed and faced his mother, again making what he feared would be a futile attempt to distract her from the topic of the cliff with a much more innocuous subject. "Nana, there is a perfectly good reason to explain why I was dismissed from training, I assure you. It was not a disciplinary action. I intended to talk to adar about it tonight. I just did not think it was an appropriate topic of conversation at the dinner table since it involves Demil."

Lindomiel nodded, apparently satisfied. To Legolas's relief, she chose to say nothing else.

Tureden, unfortunately, did not show the same restraint. "What could Demil possibly have to do with Langon dismissing you...?" he began, and then cut himself off. He pressed his lips together and looked down. "I beg your pardon. It is not my affair."

Legolas clenched his jaw. He did not want to be dragged through this topic again. But... "In truth, Tureden, this is probably information you have the right to hear. It certainly affects my ability to defend myself at the moment and that is your business." He glanced at Lanthir. "It is probably the business of all the King's Guard." He looked at Eirienil. "Have you heard yet how Demil died?"

She shook her head.

"She certainly did not hear it from us," Berior exclaimed, before Eirienil could say anything. "And who else would she have heard it from?"

"I only wanted to warn her that this information is somewhat shocking if she did not already know it," Legolas said quietly.

Eirienil's eyes widened slightly.

Legolas turned back to Tureden. "The scar on my chest that you saw when I was swimming? Demil gave that to me. We fought when Anastor and I were trying to escape. Initially, he tried to disarm me because he wanted me alive to sell me to another man for more gold. When he saw that endeavor would not be as easy as he expected, he fought to kill me. I killed him instead."

Eirienil's only reaction was to draw a long, quiet breath. Lanthir visibly blanched.

Tureden's mouth fell open and it appeared as if he wanted to say something, but either had no idea what to say or had lost the power of speech. Or perhaps both.

Legolas lowered his gaze to the table. "It was really not my ribs that made sparring with you...uncomfortable," he said, more to fill the silence than for any other reason. "I am finding it a little difficult to look down a sword, even a wooden practice sword, at an elf. I would like to think I would be steadier facing an orc or a man, but I cannot be certain of that. It is probably something you should be conscious of."

Tureden shook his head. "I..." he started, but seemed to still be struggling for words. "I had no idea.... I would never have imagined.... I have never even...and I lived in Menegroth. And Sirion." He frowned and stopped for a moment to put together a more coherent thought. "I am so sorry, Legolas. Both that you were forced to endure such a...horrific experience...at any age, but particularly such a terribly young one...and also that I forced you to relive it. I would never have done it had I known. I swear."

"I do not doubt that, Tureden. And I would have told you eventually. I just...had not found an appropriate time to do so." He paused. "To be completely honest, I had only just found the courage to discuss this with anyone today."

"That is completely understandable," Tureden replied quickly.

Legolas nodded and smiled, if somewhat weakly, at his guard. He did not have the strength to try to say anything more. Indeed, he was grateful when, a moment later, Galuauth came rushing into the Hall with Nestoreth, an apprentice and her bag of vile potions. At this point, he would actually welcome the oblivion one would offer.

*~*~*

Adar/ada -- father/dad
Naneth/nana -- mother/mum