The Exile's Daughter

The Search Begins

He couldn't stop. That was all Legolas knew. 

Once he regained consciousness and struggled to his feet from the reeking bodies of the orcs, they were leagues away, too far for one injured elf to run. Blind panic had nearly made him attempt it, but he knew he could not face the force alone. He picked up the pace, his light feet flying over the ground. 

He had never really felt powerless before. He was a lord in his own country, always cool, controlled. But there were no elves to command now. There was no one who could save her, except him, and a little band of men, clinging on to the edge of life in the edge of the north, slipping finger by finger. 

He was dimly aware of a throbbing pain in his ankle, but that was the least of his worries. He almost slipped at the end of the eastern path. The settlement was in easy sight of even mortal eyes now. Many pottered around, training or cooking or darning. Raina was carefully fletching arrows by the fire. Their calm was so in contrast to the terror in his heart that he felt as if he were in some fever dream.

Halbarad was humming under his breath as he dashed past him. "Where's Ness?" The man called after him, a slight edge present in his usually calm voice. Halbarad couldn't help. If there was to be any hope, there was only one man who could.

"Aragorn!" he bellowed, skidding to a halt when he thundered into the midst of the huts. His ankle really did hurt. So did his head. His legs gave way, and he collapsed to the floor.

Alarmed voices surrounded him, and someone tried to lift him, but he shoved them away. He deserved this pain. She was gone from him now.

"Get the children inside!"

There was that voice, that familiar voice which usually ignited such hope and affection in his heart. However, at that moment, he could feel only panic, and fury. Aragorn bent at his side and squeezed his shoulder. "You're hurt, Legolas"

"I don't care about ME!"

He had not meant to shout the end of the sentence, but he was scared. More scared than he had even thought possible. He looked up to see most of the camp's men surrounding him. The meeting hut slammed closed after the swish of a grey skirt.

"Where's Ness?" There was a quiver in Aragorn's voice Legolas had never heard before. He looked up. At the sight of his face, his hope crumbled. He almost collapsed onto his shoulder, sobs ripping out of him so hard his whole body convulsed. Aragorn only wrapped his arms about him, clinging onto the back of his cloak. "We need to get you cleaned up." He shook his head.

"She was kidnapped." Legolas gasped. "I couldn't do enough." Elladan and Elrohir had joined them. Both were gazing at him, anger and panic in their eyes, in the way their shoulders squared, their jaws tightened. "I couldn't help her." He said, trying somehow to explain; their beloved kin had truly been snatched from him without a chance.

The men all drew a gasp as one. "Who would do such a thing?" Tar asked. Legolas saw Mallor for the first time, next to his father. He was white with horror, but he could not focus on the wellbeing of the boy now. There was only one person who mattered.

"Men", he spat, taking a breath in and attempting to steady himself. "Men on horseback. Dunlendings, I think."

"How many?" Asked Aragorn, aghast. His hands were shaking.

"Enough to overcome us both with ease."

Aragorn knew how many men it took to defeat an elf. His face was utterly white. "We'll find her." He said immediately. "We'll ride out today."

"Now". Legolas wiped his sleeve across his face and stood so suddenly he swayed. Aragorn grabbed him and saved him from falling.

"As soon as we can manage, but Legolas you're hurt. You need healing."