Pain it was the only thing that he felt now. He never knew that he could ache like this. The constant ache in his chest was growing more with the passing of each second. Yet he knew it would only get worse. The pain he felt now would never leave him; his soul would weep until he gave in and left to the halls of Manos.
Why him! Valar why? The tears seeped beneath the lashes that so desperately tried to block their coming. He knew that he would never stop the tears. His heart was flooded with them.
The lean body that held such pain; shivered in grief, strong arms wrapped around long legs to rest his head upon their knees. The golden curtain of hair fell before the fair face to hide his anguish. Yet he did not care if any in the camp saw him now. He did not care if they saw this as a weakness, available to exploit. He no longer cared what they did to him.
No amount of pain inflicted upon his body would compare to what now coursed through his whole being.
Why did he have to die? Why did he have to die…for me?
Through the cries his heart called out to the Valar, he heard them approach him. He did not look up. He knew why they came to him now. Yet his pain did not allow him to care.
There is no hope left in me…I will die as he did, why live with out Estel?
"Awe the poor little prince is crying." Came there taunts. "Do you miss your friend already?"
He still did not look at them. He wanted to die. He wanted to scream out to the world to just kill him and be done! Let this retched existence be gone, he was not worthy of life. Not now that it had been bought for such high a price.
How will the world go on with out Estel?
"You should be happy, Prince, he gave his pathetic life for yours. And you sat there and let him die!" The truth in their words only intensified the pain he felt.
"He did not have to die. If you had been truthful with us in the beginning he would still be right here." He felt the speaker pat the dirt next to where he sat.
Behind the golden curtain there was nothing but blue ice. The eyes that glared now at the man had no warmth; there was only pain in those orbs that bore in to the human that now taunted.
"I did not have to tell you who I was. You knew, you knew and still you killed him. You tossed him aside as though he was nothing! Yet he was everything! Everything!" The pain burst from the elf in a cry of agony, and he stood from his seated position on this ground.
Hands, strong from millennia of using a long bow, griped the front of the man's tunic.
"He died thinking he was protecting who I am and you knew! He died for nothing!" The normally melodious voice was strained with anger.
"There we go! Let it out Legolas, you are so much more fun when you are angry." The man smiled and added. "He did not die for nothing, my dear elf…he died for you."
Legolas was pulled from the man. Those words; spoken with that smile, was enough to shatter the will to fight the prince had found in anger. And as his captors cut the rope that bound his hands, and re tethered them behind his back he did not fight.
He did not care if he was bound or not. He had wished that his attack would have provoked the man; maybe just enough to end his life. That was all he wanted now. Legolas, son of Thranduil, Prince of Mirkwood, wished now for death! But he knew as well as any one that he would not find death from these men, not yet at least. His life was worth more to them then it was to him at this moment.
"Stop wallowing, any way, it was over a day ago. And we are so close to your home." The man, his captor, stepped closer to the prince. "Are you not happy to be so close to seeing your Adar?"
"Vile edan!" Legolas hissed. Yet he could say no more. His pain he felt at the loss of Estel was pushed aside as the reason behind the prince's capture, and his friends death, was pointed out.
"We will be there soon, elf, do not worry. I think our message should be sent out now, though." The man snapped his finger, and another human was at his elbow, Legolas kept his eye on his tormentor. He was still held firmly by the men that had rebound him, so when the man came closer still the elf prince could not step back.
"But we should send something to the King to understand that we alone do not wish to see him, but that his son does as well." He grinned again, his eyes searched over the elf before him, looking for something to send with the messenger.
"Awe, take his bow, and this." Before Legolas could move the man took his knife and cut a lock of golden hair from his head. At the pure outrage upon the fair face, the man laugh all the louder, and the others around the meager camp, who were watching their leader with there captive, laughed with him.
"You will regret this, human, my King does not take kindly to being threatened or blackmailed in to submission." Legolas spat.
The man turned and dispersed the messenger. Then with a small smile the man turned back to his captive. The man; until now, was cruel and harsh, his voice was always loud when taunting his victim or harsh when punishing them, him, he corrected. So the soft look that came into those black eyes, and the false sympathy that was behind the smile, unnerved the elven prince. More so then he would have ever admitted.
The man brought his fingers to the elf's pale cheek, and trailed it down as he spoke.
"You think of your King's reaction to my message, but my dear prince, I am sending the message not to your king." Legolas, to stunned by the words and the touch just stared at the man, "Though they be the same person, I am sending my message to your father. And my message is nothing any father can ignore, be he king or peasant." He paused, and his touch lingered for a moment then his hand dropped and he came to be even closer, Legolas unconsciously backed against the men that held him.
"The blood of his son will be used to pull him to me, and your life will be taken to spare his. You, his only son, so noble, so true will die to spare him death. Then my revenge will be complete, for the depth of pain you feel for your friend will not compare to the pain of the father, grieving for his son."
"No!" Came the whispered reply, Legolas wanted scream the word, but the horror they brought stop it at a whisper.
"Yes, prince, you see he can not die, he is the King of his realm, you know this, your people need him, not their prince, but their King, you will have no choice but to die, it is your duty. He knows this. As a king he requires such a sacrifice, but as a father, it is unthinkable. How it will torture him." He smiled more.
Legolas shook his head. "No!" He said, his voice was louder but still he could not find the strength to back up the denial. And again the man smiled,
"Yes! You love him to much to see him die, not like Estel; you can not allow anyone else to die for you, can you? You have lost your friend; you can not lose your father. Your love, your compassion will be my means of revenge."
"How do you know I will do it? How do you know I will die as you say? What if I don't?" Legolas said. His desperation could not be hidden in the casual remark. His captor laughed. Legolas let go of all his pride and went on.
"What if when he comes I am not so noble? " The man stopped laughing, and Legolas swallowed, "What if I beg him to save me? What would you do then human, when I do not die for him willingly? Killing me, as I plea to live would not exact the type of revenge you seem to be after."
The man's smile disappeared; he reached out and griped the elf's throat.
"You would not do that, Legolas, because if you do, you both are dead, I know the ways of elves, there is a strong chance he will die from grief, but he may live, would you chance sending your country to ruin?. Could you allow that to happen?"
That was all he needed to say, he saw how that simple answer silenced the elf before him.
Legolas turned his eyes away. He could not look at the man. He felt his heart being shattered all over again.
There is nothing I can do!
The man, pleased that he had finally silenced the elven prince for the moment, called out to the camp to pack up and disperse. They were moving out. His men traveled light and they did not need more then a few moment to gather there meager belongings and lined up for the long march that day. Smiling to himself the dark man motioned for the men to bring the elf and the group head out, always in the direction of the Mirkwood gates.
Legolas, his thoughts in a blur, was pushed to walk along with them, yet he scarcely had any awareness to his surroundings. He felt all the anger he had a moment ago start to subside and the heart ache return. So he trudged along in complete submission. He did not struggle, nor did he speak. His thoughts were on two beings. One his father, who he prayed with all his might would not come tomorrow night; and at the same time wanted nothing more then to have the elf right there next to him at this very moment.
The other, was Estel, his friend who he knew he would never see again. His friend that would never journey with him in peril or pleasure, a friend that he would never have at his back during a battle; he would never again be at the receiving end of one of the ranger's many pranks.
They would never laugh together again. They had always been able to face anything, anything, as long they were together; they had promised each other that no matter what would happen to them, they would always make it back; together, or not at all. But not this time; Estel was gone, he would never come back. They would never be together again. And the realization brought the ache in his chest to rise to his throat. Closing his eyes to the nightmare he was in, Legolas thought back to how it all began.
Estel and he had been returning from Laketown. In his current grief Legolas could not remember why they had gone anymore. It all seems so unimportant in the light of Estel's death.
They did what they had been there to do and were returning home. They were not in a hurry, both of them enjoying being out in the wild anyway, so they kept there pace slow. It was a four day journey to the protected borders of Mirkwood from Laketown, and they expected to take advantage of Legolas's lack of duties.
That night, they made there camp on the border of the forest, wanting to enter at first light, the prince had insisted to take the first watch and allow the ranger to sleep. There was not much to fear there, but all the same the habit of it all was just that. But he did not think anything would be out there to fear, and besides, he was wood elf, the trees would warn him long before anything was close enough to worry about.
How could I have been so careless?
He had not though about the encroaching darkness on the forest. He did not think the trees would abandon him as they did. But evil was closer then he had thought, and with out the expected warning of the trees, Legolas was too late in noticing the ambush that had made its way to them. By the time his elven senses, senses that he had neglected for the help of the trees, picked up the sounds around them it was too late, the group he was now held by, came rushing out at him in the dark so fast he did not have time to bring his bow up before they were to close for arrows. His blades were in his hands but he never got to use them.
The elven prince still could feel the self reproach now as he did then, because of his elven pride, he looked upon a scene he never wanted to see in his life.
As his blades were drawn he heard a call to halt, he looked across the fire and saw his friend, held down with a dagger at his throat, and the elf did not see anyone else in that moment, only the ranger. And what he saw caused a shudder to pass through his heart.
Being violently awaken from a sound sleep, to a dagger at his throat, startled the human so much that for the briefest of moments fear was evident in those smoky eyes. Fear because he had though him self safe. He had thought that his friend was watching out for him. But Legolas did not, he had failed him. At the time he did not think that the price of that trust would be the rangers end. But the thought that the ranger would face captivity because of him tore at his soul.
Anger replaced the fear so quickly that there was no trace of it left in the man's gaze.
"Run, Legolas go now!" Estel called out in elvish. "You can flee with out me, go!" The man called, he was silenced as the blade bit deeper.
Though he called out in courage, Legolas could still remember that glimpse of fear, and it was enough to stay his blades. He thought nothing of running, and as he was rushed and forced to the ground, the elf's eyes sought out those of the ranger, and with them only he reminded the man of the long ago promise. Together, or not at all!
The smile that he received was burnt in to his memory forever.
The men bound there captives. There was a calm efficiency about the men that had captured them. With in minutes the ambush was over and the group, captives and all were gone. The camp was abandoned, with all of the friend's belongings.
It was a long nights of forced marching, where the men, did not parade the ease of the capture before the two friends, they did not gloat over the prize they had caught and with the coming of the day Legolas could see the frustration that was etched in to the face of his friend. Frustration from the utter lack of information, with a look at the elf, the ranger took it upon him self to find out. He called out for answers, who were they? What did they want? Why had they done this? Anything to get something out of the silent group; eventually the shouts brought the attention of the apparent leader of the group. The dark haired, dark skinned man came over. Though the human's shouts brought him to them, his eyes were for the elf alone. He paid no heed to the ranger and his constant flow of questions. The darker eyes bore into Legolas with such venom that the elf was loss for words.
Then with a smile, that the elf can now call sadistic, he answered the ranger, with a question of his own.
"Who are you?" This was said to Legolas. Those simple words, so innocent a question had never held such evil. Such pain; those few words would now haunt the prince for the reminder of his life.
They would haunt him because like a good prince, he did not answer. He did not betray his king. He thought that he would pay for the silence, and he was prepared for the punishment when he was forced to kneel at the dark man's feet. But it was not he who had paid. It was Estel.
One would think on ways they could have changed what had happened, but Legolas knew there was nothing he could have done differently. He could not have lied, nor could he have spared Estel's life with the truth. Because the dark man had known all along, it was all planed out from the beginning. They had planned Estel's death, for no other reason but to torment the elven prince.
And the helplessness of it all brought the tears again and he clenched shut his eyes and his teeth to crush the sob that threatened to burst from the very depth of his being.
Unfortunately or not, this was a bad time to close his eyes. Even an elf will need to watch his feet as he walked, if he had he would have seen the protruding tree root that very un kindly caught his foot and held it still, causing the elf to fall to the ground with a grunt. For his hands were still bound behind him and he could not catch himself, his elven reflexes did allow him to twist quickly enough to land on his shoulder and not his face.
His escorts merely looked down at him with an amused smile on there ugly faces and he was in no mood to be laughed at. So he suddenly kicked out at the closer of the two, sending the brute to the ground along with him.
"What is going on? Why have you stopped?" The dark man called out. Legolas glanced behind him and saw the leader pushing his way back through the men from the front to see what had happened. He looked to the two men, wanting an answer.
"Well?"
The one still standing looked at his feet.
"The clumsy elf tripped." He said and the one on the ground, who was holding his wounded knee, pointed at Legolas and whined.
"When we stopped he kicked me! I think he was trying' to escape." Legolas glared at the man, it was obvious he was lying and even the dark man could tell. But all the same he glanced down at the prone elf at his feet.
With one of his known smiles, he said softly.
"Well. We can't have that, now can we?"
Then out of no where the man produced a length of rope. He daftly tied off the end in a loop. Even in his emotional turmoil the elven prince knew what the rope 'leash' was going to be use as, and quickly got to his feet. Though just as he stood straight, the dark man gestured to the elf's two escorts and they griped him tightly again.
By this time, the whole company of men was standing around the small group, watching to see how their leader treated his captive.
As the man approached him, Legolas twisted and turned in their grasps though his spirit was very close to breaking, he still had enough pride left not to just stand there and allow a human to put a leash on him and lead him around like a dog.
"Ah, you see, Legolas, you are acting above your status. You are no longer an elven prince here." Those words did nothing but make Legolas fight to break there hold all the more. But the men would no allow it, and the one on the elf's right, the one that Legolas had kicked, paid him back with his own kick to the back of the elf's knees.
Legolas went down, and as he fell to his knees the dark man used the opportunity to slip the rope over his head.
Blue eyes, that once held such joy and light, though now were dark and stormy, pierced the dark man.
"You will die for this, Human, though you will kill me, your end will soon follow." There was so much conviction in the elf's voice that the dark man stepped back to study him again. Then his smile went dark, and with a skilled yank, the noose tightened around Legolas's throat.
"Well if that is the case, I had better make it worth it, shouldn't I?" He said, looking to the men holding the elf, "Hold him still, I would hate for this to hurt." With a dark gleam in his eye the man pulled out a knife.
Legolas instinctively stepped back from the blade. But as they were told, the men holding him griped his arms tighter, and one of them took the leash and pulled it taunt. Making it hard for the elf to draw breath, though he could still breath he knew that any movement of his head would cut off all air.
The dark man, grinning still, took a hold of his outer tunic and started to cut it away from the elf. He took his time, and once he was done the elf stood in his thin and light under tunic. The fabric clung to the lithe torso of the elf. And though he felt not a chill with out the second tunic, a shiver ran down his back for he felt less protected from the men around him.
"Now, Legolas, I will show you what it is to be miss led by others." And in a flash the Dark man used a particular long strip of the prince's own tunic and blindfolded him.
When the cloth blocked out the light, it took all of Legolas's will not to panic. He hated the dark, knowing that he was bound and about to be lead by a leash was one thing, but to be unable to see the light of the day was too much for his already aching soul. He concentrated on controlling his breathing; it would never do for the men to see his distress.
"Come, my little elf." Whispered the dark man in to his ear. And he felts the leash yanked forward. He stumbled but caught him self before he fell.
Through darkness of mind and sight he was lead.