Thranduil paced the floor of his bedchamber, his hands clasped behind his back, his eyes fixed on the smooth face of the grandfather clock. It was not Legolas who was missing again, thank the valar. No, Legolas sat on his bed, watching his father pace with anxious eyes.

Tick, tick, tick.

The clock's ticking further agitated Thranduil, marking each passing second, filling the atmosphere with something dreadful, adding tension to the air. The world was waiting for something but nobody knew what.

Tick, tick, tick.

Thranduil glared at the clock. Eight o' clock in the evening. Celebrail had been gone all day now. He refused to admit to himself he had made a mistake waiting all day for the elleth to return, and also that he knew where she must be.

Celebrail had gone to look for her son, against his wishes.

Tick, tick, tick.

Thranduil summoned two of his palace guards. "Have either of you seen Celebrail today?"

"She left the palace this morning, sir. She said you had given her the day off."

Thranduil waved the guards away and sank down in his armchair with a sigh. Lying, disobeying her King . . . the things a mother would do for her child!

"Are you well, ada?" Legolas asked.

"Yes, quite well," Thranduil said, his mind elsewhere.

Thranduil figured Celebrail must have found her son. She was probably with him right now. On the other hand, she could be lost or hurt. In order to set his heart to rest, Thranduil ordered a group of six scouts to search for Celebrail and her son. He dispatched a messenger to Celebrail's home in case she was there.

The messenger came back the following morning to say Celebrail was not home. The Mirkwood scouts reported a daily to say their search was unsuccessful.

Thranduil worried. What had happened to Celebrail? Perhaps it was time to see if Legolas knew where Landion was. Leaving the palace, Thranduil hurried to the palace gardens. He found Legolas sitting on a wooden bench, his lap full of peas, crunching down the green vegetables with a happy expression.

"Have you seen Landion?" Thranduil asked, picking a few peas from Legolas's alp to eat.

Legolas swallowed and shook his head. "No, ada. I have not seen him in two days."

Thranduil sighed and sat down on the bench next to his son. The bench faced a row of pretty red and white and pink flowers with curling, overlapping petals. Bees and butterflies fluttered among them. Behind the bench, a row of low bushes ran the length of the flowers, creating a leafy wall. Behind it, the vegetable beds were laid out.

"Is something the matter?" Legolas asked, eating the last of the peas.

"Celebrail is missing," said Thranduil.

"Is she dead?"

"I hope not," Thranduil said. "Death is something I would rather keep out of this wood."

Legolas leaned against his father in silence. The mention of death brought to the air tension. In a small voice, he said, "I hope she is okay. And Landion as well."

Thranduil wrapped his arm around his son and drew Legolas into his lap. He kissed the top of Legolas's soft head. "Me to."

OoOoOoOoOo

 Scene of Torture after this line; Beware.

The whip cracked across her raw back. Celebrail winced, clenching her hands into fists around the chains that held her on her feet. The chains hung from the celling, linked to the shackles on her wrists. She hung, barely standing on her feet, her arms suspended above her.

The whip came down again. Celebrail moaned. Her shoulders and back ached. Blood dripped from the cuts, sliding down the inside of her dress and soaking into the cloth. Spots danced in front of her eyes.

Lord Katar circled the captive elf, smiling. "My men are no where near done with you, she-elf! Neither am I done with you dear, precious little son!"

Fear welled up inside Celebrail, twisting her insides. "Please do not hurt him."

Lord Katar gestured to the man standing behind Celebrail and the whip slammed into her back. Lashes rained down on her shoulders. The whip curled, hissing as it came down. The cuts on her arms and legs were many. Her back was raw, covered in shredded flesh. Each blow sent pain spiraling through her body. She struggled to stay conscious but the agony drove her further into darkness. Lord Katar held up his hand and the torture stopped. He grinned at Celebrail, grabbing her chin.

"Once your pathetic son had fulfilled the tasks I will give him, my men will tear him apart before your eyes."

"No!" Celebrail choked. "Please do not do this. Let my son go. I will do anything!"

Lord Katar laughed as he left the dim cave, leaving Celebrail hanging limply against her chains. Tears streamed down Celebrail's face, trickling down her chin. She looked at her sister, chained to the wall to her left. Lairceil raised her bruised face to look at her sadly.

"He would not harm Landion, would he?" Celebrail asked in a fearful voice.

Lairceil said faintly, "He would torture the child to death and enjoy it."

Celebrail closed her eyes. The thought of Landion tortured tore at her heart. Lord Katar would not . . . but all hope seeped out of her heart. Lord Katar had already whipped Lairceil to within an inch of her life. He was a man without pity, a man who lived off pain. All Celebrail could think of was Landion dying in agony, with no one to save him.

"What does he want from us?" Celebrail asked.

"He wants revenge," Lairceil answered. "He wants to punish Thranduil and Legolas for what they did to him."

Celebrail's eyes widened. The nightmare had grown worst. The things Lord Katar would do to the King and the little prince! Especially to the little prince . . . she closed her eyes and asked the valar to keep Thranduil and Legolas safe.

"The horrors here are unspeakable," Lairceil said in a sorrowful voice, her eyes on the floor. "I pray you will be spared the worst of them."

Celebrail's stomach lurched.