Broken (sequel to Caught)

The Recapturing

"Elrond! Elrond, mellon-nin, wake up!" Thranduil nearly yelled in the face of the unconscious elven lord. When he had rushed upstairs to Legolas's room after the elf had made his shocking revelation, he found the room in disarray.

The sheets from the bed were strewn around and the door to the balcony was ajar. There was evidence of a struggle: some of the furniture was knocked over and the elaborately woven rug was crooked and crumpled.

Four bodies lay prone on the ground, three with dark hair and one with long, golden hair splayed around his head. And a pool of blood around him. Ai, Valar.

What was most disturbing was that not only was Legolas missing, but Darean and Allenda were as well. Had they been captured too, or had they been lucky enough to escape unnoticed in the commotion?

Elrond made an unintelligible sound, shifting in Thranduil's arms.

"Elrond! Mellon-nin...I think Glorfindel is hurt," Thranduil said. At the Elvenking's words, Elrond's eyes snapped open, and he was sitting up in an instant. Barely a second passed before he was by his best friend's side.

"Glorfindel!" he gasped as he turned the balrog-slayer over. The entire front of his tunic was soaked in silvery copper blood from a stab wound that was dangerously close to his heart. Elrond held back a sob as he looked at his friend's pale face. He put shaking fingers before his lips, feeling for breath. There was a tense silence in the room.

After a few moments, Elrond breathed a sigh of relief.

"He lives."

Thranduil sent a short, silent prayer of thanks to the Valar for sparing Glorfindel, and he moved quickly to the side as Elrond hurried past him, the taller elf in his arms.

"Get Elrohir up, Thranduil, and Elladan. I will need their help as soon as possible in the healing halls."

Thranduil did not have time to respond before Elrond was out the door and gone.

O:o:O

When Legolas woke up, it was with a groan at the dull, insistent throbbing in his head. A palm went to it, and he cracked his eyes open with an incredible amount of effort.

It was dark, but not unbearably so. He sat up gingerly, gasping as the pain spiked and the world seemed to spin.

"Legolas?" a small voice said, and his head pounded even at the whispered word. He slowly turned his head in its direction, trying not to cringe.

Against a stone wall sat the two people who he wanted least to be sitting here.

"Allenda, Darean! ...You...ughn...can't be here!"

"You don't want us to be here?" Allenda asked, her voice so sad it made him want to punch himself in the face.

"No...but I do not want Cyras to hurt you," he said, and he winced as another stab of pain came from behind his eyes.

"Are you alright?" Darean asked, and his voice was surprisingly calm, considering the situation they were in and the manner of their capture.

"Yes...I think I just may...have a slight concussion from that...blow to the head..." he whispered. Okay, maybe it was more than a slight concussion. Everything was so loud he could barely stand it. Every movement or sound made his entire skull pound with agony.

"How do you fix that?" Darean asked, and Legolas smiled at the question.

"Just rest. Sleep a lot," he said. "Don't worry. I've been concussed many times in the past."

"Good. Well, not good that you got hurt, but good that it's easy to fix."

There was silence for a few minutes, which Darean interrupted with a whispered sentence.

"I can't believe this has happened..."

Legolas sat with Allenda in his arms still, and the twins were chatting about their latest prank preformed on Erestor, which contained, in Glorfindel's words, 'obscene amounts of feathers'.

The door slid open, and everyone's eyes went to it. An eye peeked in. Legolas's hand flew to his mouth to contain a cry.

The door burst open and Cyras was revealed, though slightly older and more disheveled than the last time Legolas had seen him. In a flash, he had slammed the hilt of his sword into the back of Elrohir's head, and the younger twin slumped immediately, unconscious.

"Elrohir!" Elladan screamed, and he threw himself at Cyras, only to be blown back by a blast of green colored magic. His head slammed into the wall and fell limply to the ground.

As Elladan was in the air, Cyras had already hit Elrond with the flat side of his blade. Now the entire Peredhil family was unconscious on the ground.

His eyes cold at the merciless harming of his adopted family, Glorfindel drew his own sword and lunged at the human. They fought back and forth for a while, and when it looked like Glorfindel was gaining the upper hand, he suddenly couldn't move his sword. In fact, he couldn't move anything. Every muscle in his body was locked in the position it was in, and no matter how hard he struggled he could not move.

Cyras laughed, a hollow, empty sound, and plunged his sword into Glorfindel's chest. The magic he used to hold the elf still was released, and he let out a strangled yell, falling to the ground and curling up from the unimaginable pain. As blood began to stain the floor, Legolas watched him fall unconscious.

"Can't just stay dead, can you?" Legolas said, and Cyras grinned.

"Seems like you've got some spirit back, princeling. Well, that will make this all the more fun for me."

Cyras came at Legolas with his sword, which Legolas knocked aside with his knives. So focused was he on the sword, however, that he did not see the human grab the lamp from the bedside table until it slammed into the side of his head with incredible force.

Allenda's scream was the last thing he heard before everything went black.