—Chapter One
A hand gripped Lela firmly by the wrist, twisting her arm to reveal the the soft skin beneath that glowed in pale moonlight. With a quick slice of goblin-blade, the flesh split and bloody bone was exposed from wrist to elbow. She only whimpered softly, the shock of pain and exhaustion creating a dim glaze over her eyes. The orc let her go, leaving a layer of grime where his filthy hand had pressed, but Lela hardly noticed. Clutching the wounded arm clumsily to her belly, the blurry forms filed past the human girl, paying no heed as she sank silently to her knees. Soon their harsh laughter and noisy jeers had faded deep into the night.
She did not make any move to get up, only kneeled trembling and staring blindly at the ground. Her arm spilled forth blood like some alabaster vase that had been broken. Lela was dumb to everything as her stained cloak and dark hair rippled slightly in a fair meadow of Ithilien. But dull thoughts echoed in her mind.
Gone? They're gone? Off into the night. So many, have all gone. They've left me. Oh, thank the stars, they've left me. Arm aches...doesn't it? No, I don't feel it. Feel cold, feel tired. How long did they take me? Days and days? They took me for days, but they're gone now. All gone. Can sleep, can rest, can breathe, can.....die. Sleep and die. Yes, that's what I wish. To sleep and die. They'll never take me again, will they? No, no. They've all gone. Left me in the night to sleep.
And for the first time in 5 days, she lowered herself into the dust and trampled grass to sleep. The nightmares were smoothed away and as her life flickered and faded Lela was running through the fields near her cottage and her father could protect her from everything; she had a family and a home once again. Orcs were a bad dream. Knives were for slicing bread and spreading jam. Scrapes and bruises were from climbing trees and burns were from boiling tea kettles.
Her body stopped trembling.......
"Gerrup," croaked a harsh voice.
The girl's body was motionless, her hair had blown over a smudged face and a dark puddle had grown under her arm.
The old orc leaned over and nudged her with his foot roughly.
"Can't leave you like this," he kicked again, "Fit for naught, but the carrion?"
He scratched his jaw thoughtfully and sat down beside her still figure. She looked very small next to his great bulk.
"I hoped you might have been good for some more fun. Suppose the lads were right. Men die like flies. Too bad you coudna' been a elf wench. But you won't catch them outside their hives. Men's daughters run too far from home and get lost, though. At least you were good for a few day's games."
For a last time he pawed over her. He tugged at the long hair and filthy garments. He picked up the sliced arm, now half-cold, and let it drop back down. Lela's eyes flashed open and she stifled a groan.
Delighted, the orc hissed cheerfully, "You'd be dead before mid-morning if we left it like that. Can't have it. I'll bind it up tight and I suppose you'll last a few more days."
Lela looked up at him in disbelief, but then closed her eyes quickly at the sight of his wicked face. She was far too weak to sit up and half blind from the searing pain gnawing at her entire body. Through the roaring in her ears, she managed to hear herself say hoarsely, "I'm dying. Leave me, I beg of you.....if you have any mercy...please, please, please, you can't -- "
She choked back a soft sob.
"That's all right, pretty one. C'mon, up you go." The orc ignored her pleas and picked her up in his arms gently.
"No, no, no.......no, you can't ........" she lay limply in those solid arms.
So even her sweet, dying dreams had been torn from her. The hours of fumbling, clawed hands, the hot breath and cold knives would begin again. That cruel laughter.....and lashes, over and over again, screaming through the air. Lela was no hunter or hero. She had no hope of escape or rescue. She did not even have strength to sit up, yet death had been driven away for a time. It only licked playfully at her thoughts and aching figure.
To die, this is to die?....No, not death yet. Death would be so final and complete and wonderfully empty. And I'm full yet. Full of pain. Filthy beast couldn't kill me simply, but must practice his cruel art. How I wish he would......
Lela had no perception of time in her half-conscience state, but after what seemed hours, the orc laid her down on the cool ground of the woods. She felt the sickeningly familiar feeling as he stripped her, naked to the cold night air. Flat out on her back, she looked up at the stars gleaming through the dense canopy above. Through glazed eyes, they seemed to mock her worse than the laugh of a thousand goblins - their distant beauty cold and unmerciful.
There were others in this new camp. The old orc muttered to those who had stayed behind to make sure there was no destruction left undone.
Now they surrounded her, binding her wound, prodding and groping over her. She willed desperately for her heart to stop. Her skin shrank away and her stomach turned at the first touch of fumbling hands.
Are they already running their knives over my throat? How could they? Ah.....
Biting her lip to keep from crying aloud, Lela tasted blood. She heard a whip crack testily, a knife being sharpened, cruel voices arguing as the fire crackled and the insects chirped.
"I dunno. She looks too weak for anything more. One lash will finish her off."
"Maybe. I saw the way they played with her. Five days is a long time for a man, much less a half-grown girl. I'm suprised she's lasted this long. Haven't seen that cutting trick in years. I don't like it either. Tends to work too quick for my taste. A nice, slow death is more fun to watch, eh?"
"But just look! She's still alive. Let her sleep tonight and in the morning -- "
"Shhh, someone's coming!"
"These woods are deserted," said another gruffly.
"Nah, look!"
Lela listened intently for sounds of an approaching stranger, but only heard the orcs shifting restlessly. She pricked her ears and held her breath. A tense silence fell and she longed for strength to turn her head or shift onto her side.
"Don't hear anything," one of them grumbled after a moment.
"Aye, you're seein' things," the old orc hissed.
"I saw a shadow.....or something," the other muttered nervously. Wind howled forlornly in the trees above and around them.
"Forgive me, Master Orc," a clear voice rang out without warning. Lela started and sensed her captors doing the same."But I seem to have lost my way, for I do not recall any of your lands on the road I am taking," it was no orc that spoke with such a lilting tongue.
"Oh, no? Well, if they are not our lands now, they will be soon," the old orc said recovering from his shock, "We don't claim these lands for our own, not yet.....my lads and me were jus' traveling....through these woods...toward west....Minas Ithil. We've done no wrong....but our Lord did win that battle....We shan't be stopped by the likes of you."
Lela heard the others conversing near her in undertones as the old orc addressed the stranger. They sounded tensely excited.
"You don' find one of his kind alone. They travel in packs, elves."
"Tha's why we should take 'im quick. I haven't had elf-flesh in months. Not since we came across that little band down near Herenith Annun. Put up quite a fight, they did. Ah, but they were worth it. You can play with Elves for weeks."
"But four to one is good odds, I'd say."
"I don' know," another orc whispered, "There could always be more, hiding close by."
Their voices stopped altogether for a moment, as though looking around apprehensively, ready to be pounced on by an army of Elves.
The lone Elf and old orc continued to speak, their voices growing dangerous.
"I tell you, we've the right to travel through. If anyone's not welcome here, it's your kind. Take care of your own business and move on, Elf," the orc was snarling.
"I shall be more than pleased to. I don't mean to cause you any bother, but I would like to know who or what is responsible for the slaughtered men and burning fields I came across a few miles ago, " the stranger's voice softened ominously.
"I don't know what you're talking about. Now we're moving off, have a long way to go and there are only a few hours of night left."
Their voices were drowned out by the garbled whispers that continued right over Lela's head.
"I'm sure he's alone. Looks kinda edgy."
"Fine. Their reflexes are like cats, though. We'll have a go at him all at once...and slowly."
"What about the girl?"
Lela listened intently.
"Leave her. She won't last long out here. We've a new bit of fun."
"You don't think he sees her? Don't think he's suspicious?"
"Fool, nah. He would've asked us about that if he'd seen her, now wouldn't he?"
"Suppose. Good ol' Sharku's keeping him busy."
"Stupid elf. Doesn't know what's about to hit him, does he?"
"We'll jump at him when he's walked a bit farther down the road. Just follow him when he leaves. Shhh."
Lela closed her eyes and took a deep, painful breath.
Thank you. Oh, they'll not bother me again. The torture is over. Poor fool. I almost feel sorry for him, but better him than me. I'll be able to sleep. No, they'll not bother me again.
She listened to the nightingales and frogs chirruping. The stars did not look as cruel.
It's not so bad, this place. As good as any to die. To die, to sleep. Away from those rough hands and burning irons. No more. All I have left to do is wait.
The Elf's voice had grown quieter.
"I must be mistaken, after all. I figured I was as soon as I walked out on your camp. Five orcs could not do the damage I've seen..... in that village. I'm sure you have broken ranks with your troop. You may not have murdered the children I've seen lying strewn in the road, and on the battlefields, as well. A larger troop is responsible for that...... but you are responsible for murdering one child, am I right? A child that did not have a single defender. One that you stole, not even for your filthy cause, but for your own pleasures."
"Uh.....I don't understand you, Elf.....we've done nothing wrong....It's as you said, we broke ranks long before the others went into the village.....haven't even seen a battlefield, yet....." the old orc stammered. The others were growing shifty and growled softly to themselves.
"You're lying," the Elf's voice was cold, "I can't imagine how many men an old soldier like you has slaughtered. And you took one of their daughters. I see her body growing chill in the shadows."
"No, we found her, that one.......we didn't steal her. Stumbled upon us, she did. Foolish girl lost her way. Whatever's lost and falls on our path we claim!," the orc barked and Lela heard him move to unsheathe his sword.
But there was a whistling sound and she felt the old orc fall to the ground with a shriek. With a strident cry, the others swiftly moved upon the Elf. Another fell heavily with a groan, but after a few moments a high-pitched cackle proclaimed his capture.
"Twasn't hard at all, eh boys? We'll have to teach you some manners, sir. We was all rather fond of Sharku, not so much poor Nagrash, though," the orc was pleased with himself.
Panting and drooling with a thirst for blood, they drug him away from the road and toward their fire. Lela could hear no struggle or outcry.
All I must do is wait, perhaps they'll move on by tomorrow night and leave me. Such good luck, to have a lone elf come across us. I suppose elves must be very foolish to travel alone......
Then she slowly sank into a dreamless sleep with her dreary thoughts and no sympathy for a hapless elf.
–Chapter Two
When Lela awoke she found rain pattering in the trees and all about her. She was soaked through and her long hair clung to her naked body like a living thing. But that was not what had roused her. A man was leaning over her, wrapping her in the torn, blood-stained cloak she had been stripped of by a now dead orc. As her eyes focused on him, she saw that he was no man, but must be the Elf that would take her place as the orc's latest "toy". Until now, she had only heard his strange voice. He had deeply lined eyes that looked so very old and sad, but she found his face was young and flawless - if very dirty. His hair was long and plastered to his face and neck just as her own was.
"You're cold enough, but you aren't dead are you, girl?" he whispered hoarsely to her.
He looked very sad and she truly did pity him, for a moment.
"N-no, sir," her own voice was ragged with disuse, "Thank you."
She was suprised to find the strength to pull herself stiffly up against the wet bark of a tree whose roots she had been using for a pillow. The Elf moved back over beside the sleeping orc he was chained to. They were all snoring loudly, oblivious to the pounding rain and lightning. Lela watched as one orc's face was illuminated by the explosions of light. She shivered at the hideous visage, reminding her of the same face, lit with a cruel fire, bending down over her.
The Elf did not seem to care as the rain streamed down his own back and ran off his forehead, down his nose, leaving streaks in the thickly caked blood and dust. His eyes were closed and his head drooped.
Lela glanced down at her wounded arm. The filthy bit of cloth it had been wrapped in by careless fingers was now glistening with blood. It throbbed so that she wished she was still asleep. As she regained a bit of her strength a fresh, new wave of pain slid over her, proclaiming hurts unknown until now. Knives had sliced her face and two deep gashes had been cut deeply in her chin and right cheek. Her left ring finger had been torn off completely and a large, smooth sore had been burned onto the skin covering her ribs.. Lela discovered stinging scratches down the inside of her thighs and a rope burn around her throat. She wrapped herself tighter in the cloak, disgusted by the gaping wounds covering her body. Lela did not want to think of the ragged skin on her back caused by countless lashes.
Horrible creatures. We could kill them all in their sleep. Nothing's stopping us.
She looked hatefully at the snoring goblins that had done this to her.
Nothing would please me more than to shove a knife down that throat. Or run it through their fat bellies. Ah, I want to hear them scream.
Her mouth watered and her eyes blazed at the thought. To see a river of their black blood alone would stop the pain. And to see them cry for mercy like she had the first few days, before she stopped caring what they did to her and only pined for death, would be sweet music to her ears. She could hear it even now, an infinitely sad song without words that she knew - a wailing aria that wavered and reverberated through the trees, accompanied by the rain and dying thunder.
Lela realized the song was not an orc's death song. She turned her eyes to the chained Elf. Like a wolf wailing to the moon, his head was lifted to the hidden stars. He was crying aloud a strange, haunting song that gave her chills. It was not in Westron, but his native tongue and she could not tell if the lament's alien voice was simply soft sobs or true words.
"Mornie utulie, nu eria e mor, mornie alantie........"
She was close enough to see tears streaming from his closed eyes, mixing with the rain that washed his dirty face. Her hatred was replaced with a deep grief.
"El reniad lin ne mor, nuithannen......".
Lela's death wish grew stronger as the song carried on and on and tears welled up in her own eyes. She thought back to her family. The massacred village the Elf had spoken of could only be her own. She wondered how her mother and sisters had died.
Painfully? I can't imagine, I won't imagine Eleene dying. No, she was only five. Or mother, she died strong, I know she did. But I hope they killed her before the children. Mum wouldn't bear seeing Eleene in pain.
She wished fervently that she was with them. Everything seemed so unreal, like a nightmare she would wake up from. Her thoughts wandered as the night wavered on and she would forget where she was and what had happened. She would be reading at home beside the warm fire, as the rain fell outside. But then she reminded herself, and it was as though she were learning everything for the first time.......
Lela jerked her head up. The sun shone through the thick canopy above her and early morning mist steamed on the forest floor. The songbirds were strangely silent, but some animal was calling out through the thin, cool air. Lela reminded herself, once again, what had happened and where she was. She would not have believed it, but two sleeping orcs only a few feet from her proved the nightmare true. The other had taken the Elf with him, wherever he was.
Unlike the newest captive, Lela had not been chained to an orc. Loss of blood and lack of sleep had left the girl so weak that simply shifting her head could cause dizziness. At least, when they found her it had been that way. But Lela had slept hard through the past night and her body called for the strength to find water. The last time she had fallen asleep, her back was against a tree trunk and her head was on her knees. Now, with some effort, she pulled herself onto her feet using the support of the tree. She avoided looking at the missing finger on her left hand as she steadied herself.
Lela watched the orcs warily, but they continued to sleep. A crudely made dagger with a jagged edge leered at her from one of their belts. She was close enough to see the dark, mud-colored stains of her own blood on the knife. With shallow breath, she took a step closer to their prone bodies.
I could. All I must to do is take it from him. A quick stab right in his greasy throat.
She could feel warm blood running over her hands already.
It would feel so wonderful. What of the other? Would he wake up? If he did, wouldn't matter. I'd kill him, too. So easy. It's only the two of them here now. The other would come back and I'd be gone. But then, maybe he's very close by. He could be hiding, waiting for me. No, that's stupid. They wouldn't think of that. But I could kill these two, right here. Right now. So easy.
Another step.
If I don't, they'll wake up and I'll be gone. They'll look for me, sniff me out. I can't go far like this. I have to kill them. Or they'll finish me when they find me. Worse, the torture will start again. I wouldn't mind a sudden death so much. Why, I long for it. But, I'm afraid.....if they found me and saw that I was still alive, the torture would start again. I can't bear any more.
I should take the knife, kill them both, and then stab myself. Yes. I loathe the thought of their filthy blood mixing with my own on that blade, though.
Somewhere in the dense forest an animal cried out again through the silence. Lela whirled around in fright, causing her head to spin violently. With a soft moan, she sank to her knees as her vision dimmed.
I'm still so sick.....weak. I don't know if....I can kill both of them. But, I must. The least I could do for all they've done to me. I'll go....get some water, then lie back down....to wait.
After pulling the cloak tighter around her shoulders she started to stiffly walk away from the orc's camp and toward the stream, or where she remembered it to be. It was a slow journey and Lela expected to hear heavy foot falls behind her anytime.
Kneeling in the soggy mud, she scooped water into her bloody hands and drank greedily. After many handfuls, when her thirst was quenched, Lela unwrapped the cloak from around her and examined the cuts, bruises, and burns again. Her body was covered in ash and dried blood. Wincing, she peeled away the blood-soaked rag around her sliced arm and slid into the small eddy she drank from. The cold water's bite was cruel and piercing. Lela clenched her teeth with all her strength, but still a quavering moan rose in her throat. She treaded water to pump blood back to her frozen limbs and watched a cloud of mud rise below her under the water. Trying not to splash, she rubbed away the filth with shaking hands, ignoring the thick streams of blood snaking from her arm downstream.
When she could no longer stand the icy water, Lela pulled herself out of the pool and wrapped her body in the ragged, but volumious layers of her cloak. Weaker than ever, she closed her eyes and tried to slow quick, shallow breath and chattering teeth.
"Can't have much fun, if you keep going on like this," the orc whined mockingly.
The impatient lash cracked inches from the elf's nose.
That'll make two of us.
Legolas's screams had given out hours ago and now he only hung feeblely from his ropes, hands bound about a branch above his head, waiting for the orc to finish him. But, whether he wanted him to or not, it would take much more to kill the elf than a whip's bite. His eyes stared dully at the soggy leaves and moss covering the forest floor, through his long, tangled hair.
Though a little disappointed by his captive's unexpected lack of spirit, the orc felt power surging through his veins at the sight of an elf hanging helpless before him. Like a hunter's prize stag waiting to be skinned.