~ Legolas is both furious and desperate to rescue Wynne but the trail is hard to follow. ~

13. Five Hunters

Grimly, Legolas released his last arrow, watching the orc slowly topple over as it pierced its windpipe. He shared a triumphant look with Bronedir. "Almost too easy."

He grinned, teeth flashing white in his tanned face. "An amateurish lot. You hurt?"

"Not a scratch."

"Same here."

Nodir joined them, putting a few unused arrows back into his quiver. He had the habit of pulling out several at once and sticking them into the ground for easy access. "Everyone alright?"

At their affirmative answers he looked relieved. He tended to be very protective of his brother.

Legolas left them and went to check on his adar and Galion, who as sword fighters took a greater risk.

Thranduil was wiping one of his swords on a dead orc's pants. Thankfully he looked unhurt; the only evidence of his recent fight was a few hairs in slight disarray.

"That will make it more dirty." Legolas used a light tone to hide his relief at seeing him alive and well.

"Are you injured, son?" His adar's features betrayed nothing so Legolas had to look at other cues to interpret his emotions: his hand clenching the sword handle; his strained voice; his eyes a bit too wide.

Thranduil may be an expert at hiding his emotions behind a blank face, but Legolas had become an expert at reading him.

"I am perfectly fine," he replied.

Thranduil's shoulders dropped an inch and he swiftly put the sword back in its scabbard. "And the others?"

"Fine too."

"Good. Let us return to the horses and tell the girl the good news."

They jogged over to where they had parted. The horses were nowhere to be seen; they must have run away like the last time they fought orcs, and Wynne was probably hiding in the tall grass somewhere.

Nodir stopped abruptly. "We are here."

"What do you mean, here?" asked Legolas.

"This was where we left Wynne and the horses."

A chill trickled down his spine. Empty. The place was completely empty.

oOo

It was Bronedir who finally found a clue about what had happened. "The grass is flattened here with several broken stems. Someone must have sat here for a while – very likely her. There are horse tracks nearby."

"Where did she go?" Legolas took a few steps toward him.

"Don't come closer." Bronedir signed for him to stop. "You will ruin the tracks."

Legolas clenched his fists helplessly. Tracking was not his speciality but just standing here doing nothing when Wynne was in danger was pure torture.

Bronedir continued to scan the ground closely. "There! Footsteps leading away. She was running." He moved in a crouch. "She stopped here and trod with a harder footfall. Either she jumped up and down or stamped her feet." He inched a bit further. "Here someone walked up to her from behind. Two sets of feet. Orcs, would be my guess. They return the same way they came, now heavier than before. As if carrying something – or someone."

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Legolas was already running in the direction he had pointed. The tracks were visible to him as well now.

He didn't know whether the others followed but didn't bother to turn and check. There was no time. If Wynne was in the hands – or claws – of orcs she would not be alive for long.

This whole situation reminded him uncomfortably of a similar event during the Quest for the Ring when the hobbits Merry and Pippin had been kidnapped by orcs. Together with Aragorn and Gimli Legolas had tracked them across Rohan, and the whole time his head had been full of vivid visions of what the orcs might be doing to their captives. He had feared finding them in pieces, their limbs torn off and eaten while they were still alive and in excruciating pain.

Thankfully everything had gone well that time, but mostly because of luck. Wynne might not be as fortunate.

He struggled to dispel images of her body cut open, entrails spilling out as the orcs sank their fangs into her.

That must not happen. He wouldn't let it!

"Look!" cried Galion. "The horses."

The sight of his sweet Stelpa chased away part of Legolas' dismay and he swiftly mounted her. Since he was the one with the best control of his steed he took the lead so the other horses had someone to follow.

Vatna fell in step with Stelpa. The sight of the riderless mare made Legolas want to yell and strangle someone. Preferably an orc.

Again visions of the orcs hurting Wynne returned, increasing his anger manifold. He couldn't really say why he reacted so strongly, but there was something about her that made him protective in a way he had not been since he became friends with Gimli. She reminded him a lot of that dwarf, actually. Small, yet strong – not physically like him, but mentally. Even though she had never met orcs or seen a fight before she joined the company, she had managed to keep her head clear throughout their first encounter, defending herself with her feet. And then afterwards she had hardly even flinched as he helped stitch her wound.

She didn't fear his adar either, which was an even greater feat. Legolas would never forget how she boldly stared back at Thranduil when they first met, like a pigeon before a hawk, refusing to obey his demand that she returned home. It had been truly impressive to witness.

Her bravery was not what he would miss most if they lost her, however. It was her friendship. Like with Gimli, Legolas enjoyed talking to her, making silly jokes to put a smile on her face and just generally be together.

But they wouldn't lose her. He would find her and mash her captors into a bloody pulp. And then impale them. And then leave them to rot or be eaten by scavengers.

Grimly he nudged Stelpa to increase her speed.

oOo

They had not ridden for long when the ground became harder and drier. Soon it was little more than bare, dusty soil with thin tufts of withered grass.

Frustrated, Legolas slowed to a halt. "I cannot see the tracks anymore."

Bronedir dismounted and crouched. "Me neither, the surface is too hard."

"Damn."

"We have to continue in the direction they were heading and hope they did not change it," said Thranduil.

Legolas nodded reluctantly. There was not much else they could do.

They continued at a slower pace, stopping now and then to check for tracks. After half a mile or so they finally found another footprint which reassured them they were still on track, but most of the time it was a guesswork.

More time passed. By now Legolas' jaw hurt from clenching so hard and he was squirming with frustration over how slowly they had to proceed. Stelpa tossed her head and huffed, becoming skittish by her rider's worry.

"What is that smell?" Galion sniffed the air, steering aside. "It almost smells like... someone was sick."

Legolas felt it too now, a telltale sweet, pungent odor. "This way!"

Following their noses they soon found the source of the smell. A series of small puddles trailed in a different direction than the one they had been riding.

"That must be from Wynne." Legolas' heartbeat increased. She must be so afraid, and lonely. But at least there was no blood. At least she had not been hurt, or killed – yet.

They continued in the new course, even after the vomit had ceased, and after a while they felt the same smell again. This time the puddle was larger, located beside a hill.

"Where did they go from here?" Nodir mused. "Left, right, or across the hill?"

Bronedir dismounted. "If they left at all... look at this." He pointed at fingerprints in the dust a little way up the hillside. Bending closer, he slipped his fingers through a crack. "A curtain. Clever! And there is a door behind."

Legolas jumped down and ran over to him, tearing off the curtain and tossing it to the side. A solid wood door was revealed.

He scribbled furiously at the edges until his nails broke and his fingertips were bleeding, but it remained firmly shut. "Damn, there is no handle. Does anyone have a tool? My dagger will break if I use it."

Galion fetched a hatchet from one of the packs. Legolas tried to use it as leverage, forcing it into the crack to pry the door open but to no avail. It didn't even budge.

Cursing under his breath, sweaty and frustrated, he resorted to violence and began to chop the planks like a lumberjack.

The loud battering frightened the horses and they trotted away around the hill.

"Calm down." Thranduil tried to take his arm.

Legolas brusquely pushed him away. He refused to be calm. This was too urgent for calmness.

All he wanted was to destroy this hateful door and save Wynne.

"Open up," he roared, ramming the ax into it again. "Open the door this instant or I shall tear it to pieces!"

A/N:

This chapter is new, written two years after the story was completed when I gave the fic a huge make-over. I wanted to portray Legolas' feelings and explain what an elf like him sees in Wynne – who is a fairly ordinary human girl, after all.

Though the story is mostly Wynne's, there will be a few more from Legolas' point of view, and even a few from Thranduil's later on. :) Let me know if you like them!