@ FencingBabe7 - As soon as I was done the book b4 I started writing this
one and finished it in the same day! I won't be surprised if I spelt
everything wrong!
@ Deana - Here's the next chapter! I'd want to get the reward too... there's a pretty hefty dowry on his head! (of course, I'd fake his return then run off with Legolas and the money!)
@ pirate-queen-of-sixteen - I tend to go a little wild with cliffies sometimes!
@ Estelisminegoaway - MORE you say? the last chapter of this book will be up tomorrow!
Chapter 17
Legolas wasn't surprised. Whether these men decided to kill him or the guards of Mirkwood did, he would never see Elenest again. He only felt grief in his body and he only wanted to die. The weight of leaving home and his family and seeing those two children be murdered pressed him further to the ground. His thoughts were blank and he felt nothing but the anguish that impaled him.
One of the men tied a longer rope around his wrists and pulled Legolas to his feet. He was lead near barely living tree with a single thick branch hanging over the ground below. The rope was thrown over it and he was pulled higher up so that his toes only brushed the ground. He could see his foggy breath in front of him. One of the men pulled out a knife. Legolas only rose about two inches higher then him now, completely helpless. Ropes began to bind his feet and they were also tied to the trees around him. The man with the knife began to pace around him.
'One move, my friend,' he said, brandishing the steel. 'And you'll find out how cold this metal really is.' Legolas glared at him but remained silent. He felt no point to escaping anyway, even if he could.
He spent a good deal of the freezing night there. Alone in the dark his thoughts tormented him. The ropes began to cut into his hands that he thought were so powerful. Most of the gang members had disappeared, but Legolas could smell their campfire not too far off. The man with the blade guarded him all night long. Finally, when the sounds of drinking and cheer died down, the man spoke to him.
'So you're a prince who killed one of his subjects?' he asked. Legolas hadn't the smallest bit of sleep because of the cold and his position just hanging there. 'What kind of leader would do that?' he laughed. Legolas glared, anger returning inside him and warming his veins slightly.
'You're no better!' he scolded. 'You kill for the mere pleasure of seeing someone suffer!' The hand of the man quickly found its way around Legolas throat.
'That wasn't wise, Prince Legolas!' he hissed as he lifted his blade to Legolas's face. 'I'll bleed you for that comment!' Just as the knife touched Legolas's neck, another gang member appeared from the woods.
'That's enough.' he said. 'Your turn is over.' the man hesitated before finally letting go of Legolas. Legolas took in a deep breath. He had come just inches away from death then. His pain could have stopped, his grief cease and for everything to just be a faint memory shrouded in white fog.
The other man sat down and began to whittle away at a stick. Legolas watched him for awhile as he hollowed out the wood and began to carve letters on it.
Then Legolas realized that he had hidden his blowgun underneath his tunic. His eyes widened and he looked down at the ropes that tied his feet.
The gang members were skilled and powerful, but they hardly seemed to know how to keep a person captive. If Legolas could somehow grab his blowgun and knock out the man, he could talk off his boots, free his legs, then hoist himself up to undo the ropes.
He thought for a moment, did he really want to? Did he really want to dodge death one more time? What good would come out of his existence as a crippled being with nothing?
Then he realized, not crippled, but scarred. Seeing the death of those children gave him an anger that he never knew he possessed. With the blade and bow his father had given him, he could help those people that were being killed off so pointlessly. All he had to do was escape here and retrieve his belongings, which were still in one of the wagons parked nearby. He could sneak off and be long gone before morning.
More importantly... he could help.
Legolas pretended to be falling asleep for the longest time. His head was bowed down, his mouth on the collar of his tunic. He could smell the wood of the blowgun. Careful to be unseen by the guard, he stretched for it with his tongue until he got a hold. He pulled it out with his teeth and faced the man, who didn't even look up. Aiming carefully, Legolas fired.
One dart...
One chance...
@ Deana - Here's the next chapter! I'd want to get the reward too... there's a pretty hefty dowry on his head! (of course, I'd fake his return then run off with Legolas and the money!)
@ pirate-queen-of-sixteen - I tend to go a little wild with cliffies sometimes!
@ Estelisminegoaway - MORE you say? the last chapter of this book will be up tomorrow!
Chapter 17
Legolas wasn't surprised. Whether these men decided to kill him or the guards of Mirkwood did, he would never see Elenest again. He only felt grief in his body and he only wanted to die. The weight of leaving home and his family and seeing those two children be murdered pressed him further to the ground. His thoughts were blank and he felt nothing but the anguish that impaled him.
One of the men tied a longer rope around his wrists and pulled Legolas to his feet. He was lead near barely living tree with a single thick branch hanging over the ground below. The rope was thrown over it and he was pulled higher up so that his toes only brushed the ground. He could see his foggy breath in front of him. One of the men pulled out a knife. Legolas only rose about two inches higher then him now, completely helpless. Ropes began to bind his feet and they were also tied to the trees around him. The man with the knife began to pace around him.
'One move, my friend,' he said, brandishing the steel. 'And you'll find out how cold this metal really is.' Legolas glared at him but remained silent. He felt no point to escaping anyway, even if he could.
He spent a good deal of the freezing night there. Alone in the dark his thoughts tormented him. The ropes began to cut into his hands that he thought were so powerful. Most of the gang members had disappeared, but Legolas could smell their campfire not too far off. The man with the blade guarded him all night long. Finally, when the sounds of drinking and cheer died down, the man spoke to him.
'So you're a prince who killed one of his subjects?' he asked. Legolas hadn't the smallest bit of sleep because of the cold and his position just hanging there. 'What kind of leader would do that?' he laughed. Legolas glared, anger returning inside him and warming his veins slightly.
'You're no better!' he scolded. 'You kill for the mere pleasure of seeing someone suffer!' The hand of the man quickly found its way around Legolas throat.
'That wasn't wise, Prince Legolas!' he hissed as he lifted his blade to Legolas's face. 'I'll bleed you for that comment!' Just as the knife touched Legolas's neck, another gang member appeared from the woods.
'That's enough.' he said. 'Your turn is over.' the man hesitated before finally letting go of Legolas. Legolas took in a deep breath. He had come just inches away from death then. His pain could have stopped, his grief cease and for everything to just be a faint memory shrouded in white fog.
The other man sat down and began to whittle away at a stick. Legolas watched him for awhile as he hollowed out the wood and began to carve letters on it.
Then Legolas realized that he had hidden his blowgun underneath his tunic. His eyes widened and he looked down at the ropes that tied his feet.
The gang members were skilled and powerful, but they hardly seemed to know how to keep a person captive. If Legolas could somehow grab his blowgun and knock out the man, he could talk off his boots, free his legs, then hoist himself up to undo the ropes.
He thought for a moment, did he really want to? Did he really want to dodge death one more time? What good would come out of his existence as a crippled being with nothing?
Then he realized, not crippled, but scarred. Seeing the death of those children gave him an anger that he never knew he possessed. With the blade and bow his father had given him, he could help those people that were being killed off so pointlessly. All he had to do was escape here and retrieve his belongings, which were still in one of the wagons parked nearby. He could sneak off and be long gone before morning.
More importantly... he could help.
Legolas pretended to be falling asleep for the longest time. His head was bowed down, his mouth on the collar of his tunic. He could smell the wood of the blowgun. Careful to be unseen by the guard, he stretched for it with his tongue until he got a hold. He pulled it out with his teeth and faced the man, who didn't even look up. Aiming carefully, Legolas fired.
One dart...
One chance...