To destroy the good

prologue

The battle was pure suffering and the earth was soaked with blood, both of Men and Orcs. Dying and pain have engulfed the battle field, moans and pleas were tearing the darkish sky above their heads. Many were perished and even more of the warriors were called into the cold arms of black oblivion.

Hope seemed to fail while trying to reach the hearts of fighters for Light, because they were overpowered by countless hordes of Orcs. Aragorn, the great swordsman, looked all over the field to see what has become of his friends. They were still alive but covered with many wounds and exhaustion was making their moves slower and weaker. Even Legolas, the Elf archer, had a shadow of fatigue on his inexpressive face. He fought well, but the enemies were to outnumber him.

Aragorn had reached a final decision, which gave him more pain than anything, but his mind told him that the retreat was the only reasonable act preserving many lives. Tomorrow they will fight better, they had to rest for a little while. Otherwise Orcs will gain this battle.

"Withdrawal!" Aragorn's strong voice traveled as a bird through the tumult of combat and it seemed that also Orcs were relieved when they heard the message, because they ceased fighting, blew their horns and left the fight. Also the beasts needed time to regain their strengths.

Men and Elves turned in the direction of their fort, tiredness making their feet heavy as rocks from Khazad-Dum. They welcomed the chance to get a little sleep and rest. Even the Elves hailed Aragorn's decision although it didn't give them any joy.

But Legolas was not satisfied with his friend's decision. He wanted to defeat those evil creatures, demolish the slaves of the Dark Lord. Majority of the Orcs' force was leaving the field and they were headed to their headquarters.

Fast Elf wouldn't let them go so easily he started following them while trying to take as many lives of evil servants as he could get. Subtle light shone in his eyes when he was defeating last Orcs. He overheard Aragorn's horn, calling him to came and to gather around the fire with others.

Suddenly realizing how exhausted he really was, Leglas lowered his blades, and let the rest of the Orcs go, when something hit his head and he sank into darkness.



The Light in thy eyes

Legolas felt his heart contracted before he even recovered conscience and opened his eyes. He could hardly breathe, not only because of the sharp pain ripping through his head, overwhelming his entire body, nor because his ribs felt shattered, but mostly because of the stiff hot air, smelling of sulfur combined with decay.

He was tied to the wall, his wrists pinned above his head. His hair were a mess of clusters made of dirt and blood. But he wasn't dead, at least not yet. And that fact took him by surprise. It proved Legolas, that Sauron aimed him to be a source of information about his opponents, that was the only logical explanation available. Legolas knew that he would rather die thousand times then betray his friends but he was also aware of mastery of torture. Sauron could make him suffer in inconceivable ways, and who can swear upon ones life to keep sanity while he is being tore apart in blaze of pain.

Heavy doors of the stone cage opened and a tall, dark figure came in with two odd creatures, that Legolas had never seen before. He frowned because the tall figure was radiating burning heat as it looked in Elf's eyes. Legolas had to close his eyes at once, otherwise he would burned inside till there were only ashes left.

"Another Elf in my humble home, but a peculiar one," he heard the strong yet metal voice. "A pure masterpiece of the One, a courageous warrior, loyal son, trustworthy friend,... you look like a light, but even that appearance does not do you justice. I can see your inner light and it is shining with divine flame. What could become of you, but you wasted your gifts Valars would envy, you sad creature. So many blessings in such a weak form!" He paused then.

Legolas felt each word as a burning spike pushed through his flesh on his forehead and he was fighting with his weakness to stifle hurt and to obtain inexpressive features. It seemed that in spite of Legolas efforts the dark creature knew Elf's minds. "What a fragile creature! Although I despise humans even more. At least you Elves own some duration..."

Say pleas to the Valars for quick death, Legolas thought. "Of course you will die for your friends, Mirkwood and light. But why would you die for Galadriel or even for Men? It is true, she does posses light, although not for purpose to enlighten the souls of Elves and Men but rather to blind them with the glitter. But Men, they are to end time of your kind."

The doomed words that caused Elf's suffering were becoming more and more real to his ears. The seed of doubt fell in his immaculate heart and neither growing neither destroyed settled there.

"We will win this war, Elf, and you could be of more use than you will ever know, you have to realize that you are merely a tool in One's hands. If I decide so, you will become my instrument and so shall be. But let not make haste - we have to see how much can you bear. Therefore, try him and give him my sign. From this day you belong to me." Legolas felt sick for the very first time in his thousands of years long life.