Disclaimer: Legolas and Middle-Earth are not mine, they belong solely to Tolkien Ent., Tolkien Estate, etc.; I do not own any part, etc., I'm only borrowing the characters and locations for a short time. No permanent harm will come to them. Master Tolkien is genius; I am not.

Gurth-Oneth - the Givers of Death



Tabula Rasa



Chapter 1



Cold water thrown on his face made him come to. It was dark but the light from the fire made all seem as day to his sharp eyes. He focused on the ugly form that stood above him. Why couldn't he move?

The dark form eyed him, grinned, and then went back to the group at the fire.

Legolas felt the pain in his wrists and feet the worst. His arms were stretched out on the ground, above his head. He couldn't see his wrists, but he realized what caused his pain there as he looked down at his feet. His feet were turned sideways and a large metal spike had been driven through each of them, deep into the ground.

A hissing came from between his clenched teeth as he experimentally tried to flex his forearms. A spike was through each wrist effectively pinning him as an insect on a board. His searched his memory to find what course of events had led him to this fate; then it began to come back to him.

He had been on patrol far to the South with three of the Gurth-Oneth, who were the fiercest and deadliest of fighters that comprised his father's elite guard. They had been trailing an Orc raiding party when Wargs had attacked them. Legolas could only remember the first wave of the attack. Where had the Orcs come from? Where were his companions? He couldn't see much, but his senses told him that he was alone here.

He had to get away.

There was little time left, his mind knew, as the Orc came toward him again, this time holding a long knife and grinning wickedly. The hatred in the Orc's eyes shone brightly. Legolas clinched his teeth together and set his jaw, then gave the Orc a defiant steely blue glare in return.

The Orc looked over the naked flesh of the Elf, and said, "Need fresh meat." Then he took the knife and began cutting along the right hip and thigh of the helpless Elf.

The pain of the blade slicing his flesh down his hip and thighbone was even worse than the pain in his wrists and feet as he writhed in agony. There was no way to hold back the screams that came forth from his very soul.





He screamed again and again and again. Then soft hands gripped his arms firmly and shook him hard.

"Lægolas! Lægolas! Awaken!"

His eyes were open but it took a while to focus on the figure in front of him. Legolas registered surprise that he was sitting up in his own bed at home. The face of his mother before him showed fear and concern as she searched his eyes and held his arms.

"My son! What has happened? Whatever has disturbed you so?"

"I must have been dreaming, Mother."

"Rather a nightmare than a dream. Your cries could be heard even unto the stables. What has you so troubled?"

The morning sun shining though the high windows lightened Legolas' heart as it warmed his face. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. The terror of the dark was still palpable but could not exist for long in the brightness of this room. He had no intention of telling his mother that he had dreamt of being eaten by Orcs.



TBC