Before I start this new story I want to make something clear so I will capitalize and underscore for emphasis. THIS IS NOT A PLAGIARIZED VERSION OF SkyleafAlchemist19'S All That Remains! I have already spoken to her prior to posting this, and she has given me permission to use the assassin aspect of her story for mine! DO NOT I repeat DO NOT review this only to flame and accuse me of plagiarizing her story! She is ready to speak out on this issue if it does happen, and I thank her so much for doing so! The ONLY aspects of this story that will be the same is the assassin theme, and the use of the name Esgal as Legolas' alias, which she has also given me permission to use! So please dear readers, DO NOT POST REVIEWS ACCUSING ME OF PLAGIARIZING WHEN I HAVE CLEARLY EXPLAINED MYSELF IN THIS LITTLE SECTION!
Inspired by: SkyleafAlchemist19's All That Remains and Throne of Glass by Sarah J. Maas.
Summary: Legolas does not know how he came to be at Dol Guldur. He has no recollections of his past. Trained by the Witch-King of Angmar, the Elf becomes the Nazgûl Lord's personal champion. The assassin known as Esgal...
Esgal: Sindarin Elvish for Hidden.
This story is dedicated to SkyleafAlchemist19. Thanks for writing such an awesome story of All That Remains! And for allowing me to use the assassin theme and Esgal alias! This is for you!
Reviews are welcome.
I also appreciate constructive criticism as well.
This story will be post WotR but I will try to keep it as canon as possible.
OCs will also appear in this story as well!
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or anything associated with it, aside from my own plot and OCs.
Note: Edited 6/12/2015, fixed a couple errors here and there, otherwise remains unchanged from original first chapter. Title has also been changed
IMPORTANT: PLEASE READ PRIOR TO REVIEWING THIS STORY!
Lately I've been getting anonymous reviews saying this story is a rip off of Skyleafalchemist19's All That Remains and The Shadow Wars. The following is a message from Skyleaf (can also be found in my reviews page) stating that she has given me permission to type this story. Therefore, THIS IS NOT A RIP OFF OF HER STORY (which is awesome by the way).
To the readers of "For Whose Sake": This is SkyleafAlchemist19, the author of "All That Remains" and "The Shadow War". Look, I'll be blunt with you. People have been flaming this story because they think that it is a rip off of All That Remains. IT IS NOT. Shadow Songstress (now Celsius Fate) HAS MY PERMISSION to write this story. CF asked me about using the assassin!Legolas idea and Esgal name, and I gave this wonderful author permission to do so for this story. This story is NOT plagiarized. It is NOT a copy. It is NOT a rip off. CF has said this at the top of every single chapter posted on this site. By flaming this story, all you are doing is hurting an amazing person and bashing on their creativity.
If you think that a story is ripping off ATR, Private Message me. Ask me if I have given this author permission to use aspects from ATR. If you are a guest reviewer and don't have an account on this site, leave a review in one of my stories asking about that. Please, do NOT flame and insult people "on my behalf". If someone is copying ATR, I will contact them and deal with it. But most of the time, these authors HAVE MY PERMISSION to write stories INSPIRED BY All that Remains. Don't needlessly flame them.
Thank you.
SkyleafAlchemist19
If you have any problems with this story, or you believe Skyleaf's message has been forged, PM HER AND ASK WHETHER I HAVE BEEN GIVEN PERMISSION TO WRITE THIS STORY OR NOT! Honestly I am getting sick and tired of guests saying this is a rip off or I am plagiarizing/copying her story. If you cannot read her message which I have UNDERLINED and put in BOLD, then you are either VERY lazy or an idiot. I'm sorry if I sound harsh, but this story is my baby and I am SICK of people flaming it. Skyleaf enjoys this story just as much as I enjoy hers. Now please stop flaming my story and enjoy it instead.
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For Whose Sake
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Esgal
The once proud realm of Gondor has lost its splendor since the disappearance of Arathorn, but nonetheless it remains a stronghold in the realm of Men. A cloaked figure slowly made his way through a crowd of people, weaving in and out meticulously to avoid being recognized. If the Men of Gondor were to discover he was an Elf, then his task would not go so smoothly. Whilst both races knew of each other's existence, Elves rarely mingled amongst Men and the same goes for the latter. The last thing the figure wanted was to draw attention to himself.
Yes.
He was an Elf.
One who was raised and trained by the Witch-King of Angmar.
No one dared cross him within the fortress of Dol Guldur, and his name was only whispered in fear amongst the Orcs and Goblins that dwell within its desolate walls.
Esgal.
His presence was well known deep within the Hill of Sorcery that has been his home for the past two thousand years. No being, Goblin or Orc alike, dared disobey his orders.
Those who did do not live to see the next sunrise.
But today was a different story.
He was here to find information pertaining to the whereabouts of Isildur's heir, if the rumors he heard were correct. The Witch-King had assigned him the task of mingling in with the citizens of Gondor, learning as much as he could before returning back to Dol Guldur. Due to his nature as an Elf, Esgal was often sent on assassination and reconnaissance missions, him drawing far less attention than Orcs and Goblins would. The Elf was raised to be a merciless and deadly fighter, able to kill without being noticed, and the victim not realizing until it was too late. He is a weapon. A weapon under the command of the Nazgûl Lord.
Stopping in front of a tavern, the cloaked Elf quietly slipped inside to find it full of Men drinking merrily around tables. Having been educated in various tongues, including the common tongue, it was rather effortless for Esgal to blend in. With the tips of his ears covered and his fair silver hair concealed, he could easily pass for a Man. Albeit a rather good-looking one, but a Man nonetheless. Unlike other Elves he also did not glow, having learnt to keep it suppressed during the years he spent inside the black fortress. He had to. Any being of Light exposed to Darkness for so long will succumb, thus one of the very first things the Witch-King taught him was how to suppress his inner glow, to prevent himself from being driven mad by the evil presence lingering within its darkened walls. Now it no longer strained him to do so, though he did wear special lenses that turned his pupils crimson. The lenses were created through magic by the Witch-King, allowing the Elf to pinpoint an enemy's weak spot, thus enabling Esgal to fight more effectively even when cornered. His natural eye color was silver-blue, but only when he was within the walls of Dol Guldur does he take the lenses off. When not in use, he kept them inside a special container inside his pouch.
"Can I get you anything?" the female barkeep asked, though she looked no older than eighteen to the immortal Elf.
"Ale is fine," replied Esgal, acting casual whilst keeping an eye around his surrounding area.
A wooden cup fell upon his gloved hands, prompting him to instinctively curl his fingers around the body.
"What a day this has been," she wearily said, rubbing away at glasses with a clean towel.
"Why do you say so?" Esgal picked up the cup, taking a sip of alcohol. It wasn't as strong as he thought, and flavored with a hint of ginger and lemon. Quite refreshing to his tongue actually. He also wouldn't get intoxicated so easily, as alcohol does not effect Elves like it does Men and Dwarves. It would take at least twenty cups of ale before Esgal will begin to feel light-headed.
Then again he never drank to the point of being in a stupor.
"Lord Arathorn is missing and Lord Ecthelion keeps sending our men to Minas Morgul. Countless lives are being lost and that man does nothing but sit in luxury whilst we put our lives on the line. Mark my words, Minas Morgul will fall soon and Lord Ecthelion will not do a damn thing to reclaim his territory."
That piqued his interest.
"How long has Lord Arathorn been missing?" Esgal feigned concern, leaning forward as if eager to learn more.
The barkeep gave him a heavy sigh. "You must not be from around here are you?" she asked, giving his cloaked figure a look over.
"I am a mere traveler, privy to the going-ons of those around me."
"I have heard rumors that Sauron's forces are scouring the lands for Lord Arathorn and Lady Gilraen. The Lady Gilraen is with child, an heir that can reclaim the throne of Gondor."
The Elf arched an eyebrow at this.
"Of course these are mere rumors," the barkeep's hands never stopped wiping during the conversation. The glasses were so clean, Esgal could see his crimson eyes reflected upon the polished surface.
"Has no one tried to find Lord Arathorn?" Esgal took another sip of ale.
She laughed out loud. "Most of our men are too busy holding back Sauron's armies. There are not enough soldiers to search for Lord Arathorn."
The Elf made a mental note of this.
Taking yet another sip of his drink, the Elf glanced around the tavern. Many had already left for the night, and whatever stragglers remained were busy drowning their worries in alcohol.
Finishing his own ale, Esgal paid for it and departed the tavern.
Outside the vast gates of Gondor awaited a Warg Rider. It had been instructed to wait for Esgal's return. As much as the Goblin detested that damn Elf, it valued its own life too much to disobey. The last one that did was found hanging upside down in its own pool of blood. Not a pretty sight for malicious creatures such as itself, whom had seen its fair share of blood and guts.
A low growl filled the air as the Goblin became alert. Seconds later a cloaked figure materialized beside the two. If the Rider hadn't known about the Elf's abilities beforehand, it would have died of fright.
"Arathorn has gone into hiding," Esgal said, mounting briskly onto the back of a saddled roan horse, his loyal companion Hagalith whom he raised as a filly.
The Goblin clambered up onto the Warg.
"What of the heir?" it growled between pointed teeth.
"Rumors for now."
Urging their mounts forward the odd pair made haste towards Dol Guldor.
The sun had begun to rise when the duo arrived at the looming black fortress. A loud horn resounded in the air, signaling their return from Gondor. The ancient oak doors swung open as soon as they neared, and Esgal gradually pulled his horse to a stop.
"The Witch-King requests your presence," an Orc said as it came to tend to the mare.
"Where is he?" Esgal lowered his hood, allowing silver locks to cascade down his back.
"In his chambers."
Handing the reigns over to said Orc, Esgal hurried towards the western wing of the fortress. Along the way he passed by patrolling Goblins, all gretting him with grunts and nods. Those within the Hill of Sorcery knew Esgal to be the Witch-King's right hand. Crossing the Elf was equivalent to a death sentence by the Nazgûl Lord himself.
The Witch-King of Angmar stood outside on the balcony of his chambers, overlooking a vast courtyard where thousands of Orcs were training in formation. One final wave to Minas Morgul and that territory will belong to him. It will give him much more access to the rest of Gondor, allowing the Darkness to spread even further and corrupt the hearts of Men. The Nazgûl Lord shuddered as it recalled how it became a Ringwraith of Sauron. Power. Temptation. Greed. Nine Rings had been given to Men, and it was through those rings the Black Riders were born. Of the Nine, the Witch-King was the strongest and their leader.
"You called for me?"
Esgal entered the room to stand beside his master. Under normal circumstances an Elf cannot bear to be near such evil, but Esgal has learned to suppress his glow, and being near the Ringwraith almost every day has allowed him to protect his mind from such crippling powers.
"What news have you of Gondor?" he inquired in a raspy voice.
"Arathorn has gone into hiding. I have also heard rumors that his wife is with child."
At this the Nazgûl Lord stirred.
"Isildur's heir cannot be allowed into this world! I will send scouts to search for their location. Once they are found, I want you to lead a band of Warg Riders to end their lives."
The Elf inclined his head.
"I have a new task for you Legolas," continued the Witch-King.
Legolas.
Esgal's real name.
Only the Ringwraiths knew of this.
To everyone else he was simply Esgal.
Elvish for Hidden.
A perfect alias as he spends most of his time hiding amongst others.
"Yes?"
"Observe the Elvenking in his domain."
The assassin bowed once. "I understand."
"You are free to retire to your room."
A signal for his dismissal.
With his chambers being on the opposite end of the fortress, Legolas took his time walking back. The hallways were illuminated with nothing but lanterns, giving off an unsettling feeling to those not used to the darkness. Yet Legolas had grown accustom to walking these halls. It was strange. The Elf had no recollection of who his true parents are, nor his real family. The only memories he could recall were those of relentless training by the Witch-King day and night. However there was one memory that he hadn't lost, and that was a pair of warm hands cradling his infant body. But try as hard as he could, the Elf could not piece together a face that belonged to the hands.
In all the years he has spent within Dol Guldur, his true identity had been taken from him.
Legolas did not know he was.
What is the reason for his existence?
Does he have a family?
Were his parents searching for him at this very moment?
The closest he's ever had to a family were mentors brought to the Hill of Sorcery by the Nazgûl, to train him in various arts aside from fighting. However Legolas learnt not to grow too attached to them.
They were always disposed of after serving their purpose.
An ear-piercing scream echoed in the air, the agonized sound jarring Legolas out of his thoughts. Pausing in his steps the Elf cocked his head, thinking the scream to be of Orc or Goblin origin. These beasts kill their own kind every day, so he would normally pay no attention, but something sounded off about this particular wail of pain.
Several moments later he heard it again.
There was no mistaking it.
It was the scream of an Elf.
Following the source of the screams Legolas sprinted down a spiral flight of stairs, this particular one leading to the dungeons. The agonizing cries grew louder the closer he drew, with the latest one nearly splitting his head open. Flinging the door open with such force, the Elf walked calmly into the room to find a gruesome sight. An Elf, a Elleth, chained to the wall and bleeding profusely from lacerations on her body. Three Goblins stood before her, each bearing a torture device, namely a whip, a iron brand, and a knife. They were each taking turns prodding at the young Elleth, forcing her to cry in agony whilst enjoying her screams.
The moment they saw Legolas standing there, the Goblins lowered their hands.
"What is going on here?" hissed Legolas dangerously.
No one answered.
The only audible sound were quiet sobs coming from the Elleth.
"Answer me now or I will sever your heads from your bodies!"
To prove his point the Elf flicked his hand, showing an Elven dagger clenched within his clutch.
Still no one dared to speak.
Without looking Legolas flung the dagger at the Goblin on the left, instantly killing it as the beast toppled over on the ground. The remaining two whimpered in terror, huddling together in a pathetic attempt to protect themselves from his vengeful wrath.
"Speak!" he ordered again.
"W-We caught this tree-rat while on patrol and captured her. The Witch-King has ordered us to get any information out of her pertaining to Mirkwood and the Elvenking," one finally answered.
"I will take over from here. Remove yourselves from my sight this instant."
"But Lord Esgal-"
"Now!" barked Legolas angrily, splaying another dagger for them to see.
The Goblins scrambled to get out of the room, tripping over each other in their attempt to flee out the door. Once they were gone from sight, Legolas slowly approached the trembling Elleth, noting the tattered remains of her clothing, and the fear evidently swimming within her blue eyes.
"I won't hurt you," he said gently.
She didn't answer him.
Then it struck him.
Perhaps she did not understand the common tongue.
"Pedin i lam edhellen?" he inquired in the melodious tongue of Elvish.
The Elleth's eyes widened slightly at this. "P-Pedin edhellen," she hesitantly replied, as if testing her voice for the first time.
Grabbing the keys from a hook on the wall, Legolas walked over to her and unshackled the chains binding her to the wall. Her frail body crumpled to the ground, but the Elf caught her before she could hit solid stone. Removing the cloak from around his shoulders, he used it to cover her modestly, taking extra care in avoiding her open wounds.
"M-Man le?" she asked still in Elvish.
"Esgal i eneth nín," he told her with a smile.
"Esgal?" her brows furrowed together in confusion. No doubt she understood the meaning behind his name.
"What is your name?" Legolas helped her stand shakily, allowing her to lean on him for support.
"Aeneth..."
He smiled again. "That's a pretty name," he said warmly.
The Elleth, Aeneth, ducked her head in response to his comment.
Carefully he led her out of the dungeons and up the spiral flight of stairs. Those who gave questioning looks were silenced with one glare from the Elf as he led Aeneth towards his chambers. He may be an assassin, but he was not heartless, especially not towards one of his own kind. The Elf also had questions as to why she was captured. Perhaps he can learn a few pieces of information about the Elvenking through her.
As soon as they were inside his chambers Legolas brought her over to the bed, gently easing her down and instructing her to wait as he went to retrieve a medical kit. He was taught medical techniques should he ever sustain a fatal injury during a task. Disappearing inside the wash room connected to his personal chambers, the Elf filled a basin full of water and placed a clean towel in it, this he brought over to Aeneth and allowed her to clean herself. Returning to the medical kit Legolas took out various herbs in small vials, pouring some of each inside a bowl. Next he used a pestle to grind up the herbs into a fine powder, which he then applied to clean bandages, bringing the strips over to the shaking Elleth.
"These will clean and disinfect the wounds," he said whilst wrapping them around the lacerations.
Aeneth cried out when the herbs touched her skin.
"Bear with me please."
"W-Why are you doing this for me?" murmured Aeneth through closed eyes.
"I cannot stand to see a fellow Elf suffering like you did," he merely said.
Her silver eyes locked onto his crimson ones. "You are an Elf are you not? You speak my tongue yet your eyes are crimson...and you do not glow like I do."
"I am different from you Aeneth," Legolas finished bandaging the last of her wounds and stood up.
The Elleth glanced down at her bandaged wounds, grateful that he had done a good job of tending to her injuries. In all honestly Aeneth was prepared to die in that room back there. She had been separated from her patrol earlier than morning, and was trying to find her way back to Mirkwood when a band of Goblins emerged from the woods. Outnumbered one to twenty, she barely had time to put up a fight prior to being dragged back to Dol Guldur, where she was then tortured horribly by those three...disgusting beasts.
"Le hannon," she finally said after a while.
"I will make sure no one will disturb you as you rest Aeneth. In time you will discover who I am and why I have survived for so long in Dol Guldur," Legolas began walking towards the door.
"Wait-"
His next response cut her off. "Yes. I am an Elf just like you Aeneth, but I do not glow because I have learned to keep the darkness from consuming my mind and soul."
Her entire body shuddered at the mention of mind and soul. She had heard stories of Elves succumbing to darkness and evil, how they became twisted and deranged until they no longer resembled Elves. They became Goblins. And Goblins hated being reminded of their once being Elves. The Elleth also knew the trees around the Hill of Sorcery were the same. The once-green trees had become corrupted with anger and hate, having absorbed the seeping malice from Dol Guldur for thousands of years until their light no longer existed.
"Boe i'waen. You have been through a lot this day, rest as long as you need. No one dare enter my chambers unless I give an order."
"Don't go!" Aeneth implored, not wanting to be left alone.
Legolas was already halfway out the door. "Na lû e-govaned nin Aeneth," he simply said as the door closed behind him.
To be continued...
Review?
Once again: DO NOT review and accuse me of plagiarizing when I have explained myself in the above note!
But if you do have thoughts then I'd love to hear them from you c:
Hopefully you all enjoyed this first chapter!
Legolas' past will slowly be revealed throughout the story.
Aeneth will only be around for a few chapters (you'll see why later on)
But I will add OCs when necessary for the progression of this story.
See you all next chapter!
Shadow Songstress!
Translations
Pedin i lam edhellen: Do you speak Elvish
Pedin edhellen: I speak Elvish
Man le: Who are you
Esgal i eneth nín: My name is Esgal
Le hannon: Thank you
Boe i'waen: I must go
Na lû e-govaned nin Aeneth: Until we next meet Aeneth