Dabbles In Ink: Lord Of The Rings One-Shots

In A Foul Place {Part 2}

"My lord!" An ellon exclaimed to his king who sat talking with several of his advisers. "The hunt went ill, we were over--"

"Where are the others? Where is my son?" The King demanded before the soldier could finish.

The ellon before him shuffled his feet. Dread came upon him as he was forced to answer the King's question. "Prince Legolas was captured my king. Most of the others did not make it out." Deafening silence rang throughout the room.

The silence broke when the King demanded the ellon to relay the last sighting of the kingdom's only heir. The ellon told all his knew, including the fact that one of his companions had stayed behind to follow the enemy.

The King, who had already stood up from his seat, marched out of the room with a command to have the army ready to leave by morning.

Morning came and went, Thranduil and his army traveled light, not wanting to risk any extra time on too many supplies. They could find what they needed in the forest if it came to that.

With every moment that passed, the King became more and more worried. His stomach churned at the thought of what his son might be suffering through. But he could only trust to hope that they would get there before it was to late. He could not bare the thought of losing his son to the shadow.

They kept moving closer and closer to the abandoned fortress that lay beyond their borders.

Finally, they caught up to the ellon that had stayed behind. He was weary after so many days of having to stay hidden, but he told the King what he had seen. "They shot him, but he still lived when they took him in. Though, I have not seen, nor heard of him since."

The King need not ask how long ago it had been for he had already calculated it and knew that his son was most likely dead. A heaviness slammed onto Thranduil's chest, his composure hung by a thread, and he took as shaky breath to steady himself.

After a moment, he drew himself up. He would not stand for those foul creatures to have his son's body, should that be all that was left.

He gathered his forces, readying them should the attempt to sneak in go ill. Then, with only a handful of others, he went in, making his way down into the underground of the old fortress.

For days they searched the darkness. Servants of the enemy lurking around every corner. The weight the void of darkness had pressed on the elves more and more with each passing day.

"My lord," An ellon whispered to his king. "We can not keep going like this. We must turn back."

The elven king turned to face the ellon that spoke, drilling him with a hard stare. "I will not turn back until my son is found! If you wish to leave, then go! But I will not." And with that he turned away, leaving the soldier regretting his words.

A cry suddenly reached their ears. It was weak, no mortal would have been able to hear it. Thranduil followed the voice without hesitation through the dark.

Iron bars lined both sides of the path that Thranduil walked upon. The light was dim, but he could see a limp form laying on the ground and he ran. But the bars kept him from going to his son's side.

Thranduil grasped at the filthy bars with trembling hands, eyes pinned on his son. He called to him but no answer came. The other ellyn caught up to him and set to work on the lock on the door.

After what the elven King thought to be hours, the door popped open and he ran to his son and knelt beside him.

"He's alive!" The King breathed, tears brimming his cold grey eyes as carefully lifted his son into his arms. Legolas made no sound, his head rolled and rested against his father's shoulder. They needed to get out of there. Quickly.