Chapter Seven: The Path to the Tower

By Ellwyn J

They had marched for nearly a day and a half, resting only shortly at night before the Orcs began to drag her once more towards the mountains of shadow that did not seem so distant any longer. Ellwyn felt as if her legs were made of lead; it was so excruciatingly painful just to put one foot in front of the other. She felt the blood drying on her wrists where the rough bindings had cut into her skin. The dry grasslands of the Nindalf were completely barren, as were the grey skies above, for the sun refused to pour its light over the peaks of the Ephel Duath. She had not seen Legolas for many hours: the group of Orcs had split in two, and she suspected he was several miles behind where they were.

Finally, her knees gave out and she collapsed to the ground, tears in her eyes. What have I gotten myself into? And, Legolas… Ellwyn began to sob silently and she fell to her side on the perishing grass, struggling to breathe while staring up at the prosaic sky. A nearby Orc attempted to wrench her up again by the bindings on her arms, but she refused to move. The larger Orc that was obviously the leader of the pack motioned for the group to stop, and bent down to look into Ellwyn's despondent face as if to decide whether she was fit to continue traveling.

Ellwyn knew she had the strength to persist, but her spirit had completely given way and she had lost hope of ever seeing light or comfort again. Since she had lost sight of Legolas, she had almost lost all will to live and had forgotten why she was wandering with a band of Orcs in the wastelands so near Mordor. Her face was pressed in the grass and she lay motionless for such a while that the Orcs finally halted and made camp.

After regaining her breath and senses, which took the most part of an hour, she shifted so that she could see the small fire where the Orcs were gathered, eating and jabbering in their horrid language. She noticed that the number of Orcs had doubled—obviously the other group had caught up with them in the time she had lain there. Ellwyn forced herself to sit up with much effort and looked around curiously. Then her gaze finally rested upon the elf, sitting perhaps only a few feet away from her.

Legolas had been watching her for quite some time, not certain of whether she was conscious. His sharply featured face wore the look of one that had been under much stress for a long period of time, and it was now drawn back in a look of utmost concern. He hesitated before whispering barely audibly, "Mellen, reno, im sí anneg uirebui. My dear, do not forget, I am here with you always. I feared the worst when I arrived here and you did not move for so long."

Ellwyn felt her heart stir to life once more and she smiled gratefully through tears. Despite the fact that he looked somewhat worn out, his presence, his mere gaze and his voice were reassuring to her. "Diola lle, Legolas. Diola lle…for everything." Her words had so much more behind them. She wanted to apologize for everything she had brought him into, and wanted just to lie and be comforted in his arms again. She shut her eyes and let the tears stream down her soiled cheeks.

Legolas wanted so much to reach out and gently wipe away her tears, but the bindings held his arms steadfastly. "Ellwyn," he said, louder, "I do not regret for a moment that I am here with you. I want to be with you, no matter where it takes me." I want to protect you, no matter what I must do to save you, he did not say.

"Legolas…" she murmured quietly, unable to think of any words. They gazed at each other with an unspoken connection, a bond that could never be broken.

Legolas closed his eyes, feeling a rush of warmth run through his body. He had never loved someone so painfully before, and his heart felt lighter than it had ever been, yet weighted with an unbearable, heavy sadness. He saw the quiet sadness lingering in her eyes, and the secrets she could never reveal to him. He wanted so much just to bury his face in her hair, inhale her scent, wrap his arms around her and let her cry, let her pour her entire soul out to him, once more. He wanted to hold her and tell her that nothing, not even her past or her destiny, could come between them. But he knew she could never accept it as the truth, and as long as she did not, neither could he.

An approaching Orc, who cast a small bit of dried meat and two loaves of stale, hardened bread on the ground before them, interrupted his thoughts. It then drew a short knife and cut their bonds, none too gently, so that they could eat. It stood watching over them so that they could not make any move to escape under its watchful eye and its threateningly poised knife.

At first, Ellwyn merely sat, watching the elf solemnly. But Legolas pushed both loaves of the bread to her, casting away the piece of meat. "Never touch the meat an Orc offers to you," he whispered. She turned her head, rejecting the food, but he took it and tore it into smaller bits, holding it up for her. "You must eat," he said, then assured her, "I do not need it."

Finally she opened her hand and took the stale bread from him and carefully swallowed it, feeling it slide painfully down her dry throat. Then she turned to stare at the Orc standing above them.

She spoke to it, and Legolas again shuddered, a chill running down his spine. "She is of elven descent, yes, but there is an inherent evil I sense in her…" Legolas was suddenly reminded of Galadriel's words, hearing the malice in the language Ellwyn was speaking. He quickly shrugged the suspicion away. "But I do not suspect her of any evil," he had said in response to the Lady's words. He knew his feelings were true, yet he could not ignore the fact that in the girl there was the dark blood of an ill-fated union. What would she do if she were offered the chance to join her father?

"Your master would not approve of mistreating us. You must let us walk with our hands free," she said angrily in the Orc-tongue to the creature standing above her.

The Orc shrieked with laughter and told her between fits of laughter that she was delirious. Ellwyn narrowed her eyes and Legolas bristled at the hideous dissonance of its laughter.

"You can tell your master that his daughter comes to him," she said commandingly, "and she refuses to be handled like another of his slaves."

The Orc stopped shrieking and glowered at her with widened eyes, as if wondering whether to believe her or not. She reached down her tunic and slowly pulled out a silver chain on which a blackening silver leaf hung. The Orc obviously recognized the icon, for it suddenly backed away in surprise.

Ellwyn glared at it. "Leave us be and we will go without trouble to your master." Then the Orc dashed quickly back to the others around the fire, telling them what he had heard and witnessed. The Orcs stared at Ellwyn for a while with an unspeakable fear in their twisted faces, then they turned away and resumed their chatter, but more subdued than before.

Ellwyn sighed and lowered her eyes. Legolas was watching her questioningly. "What did you tell it?" he asked finally.

She looked up. "It recognized the amulet of my mother," she replied, "the same one that my father used to wear…and obviously still does. The Orcs are at least intelligent enough to put two and two together."

"But…did you not see the fear in their eyes?"

"My father," she said quietly, again staring at the ground, "has changed much. No doubt he is a tyrant to them."

Legolas, finally able to move freely, reached up to caress her face. He remained silent, the words he wanted to say, conveyed in his face instead. Ellwyn rested her head on his shoulder with an exhausted sigh, and he embraced her warmly.

After a silence, he inquired hesitantly, "Where did you learn to speak such an abominable language? No where is it heard but for the areas near the black lands."

"When my father would disappear for long periods of time," she answered, "he would come back and I would hear him speaking to himself in a language I did not understand. Then he began to speak to me like that, unaware of it, and I was forced to learn it after some time if I was to speak with my own father…"

Legolas nodded and held her closer, then kissed her forehead. "Who knew that such a beautiful mouth could utter such vile words," he murmured to himself. "Bain mîlen."

"What?"

"My beautiful love," he replied simply. He stood, bringing her up with him. "Do not give up hope," he said in response to the despair he saw returning to her eyes, "we are only a day and a night's march from the black tower in the mountains of shadow."

The Orcs were stirring, preparing to depart again, making it obvious that they were avoiding the girl and her companion. Legolas looked upon them with a mounting fear, wondering inwardly what they would have to face when father and daughter were finally reunited.

* * * * *

The almost completed black tower loomed up menacingly, now only a few hours' journey through a pass in the mountains. The march from their last camp to the break in the mountains where the fortress of Minas Morgul rested had been arduous and long, but it was not as harsh as it had been when they had been bound and forced mercilessly to continue if they fell.

The dark fortress was frightening to behold and Legolas felt he was beginning to lose a grip on his senses; they were surrounded by countless hordes of Orcs, goblins, and other dark, unspeakably repulsive creatures. The band of Orcs that led them through the mountain pass now seemed like an insignificant flea to the immensity of the servants of Sauron that swarmed throughout the fortress.

Ellwyn walked alongside Legolas, unable to bring herself to look about her, for fear of becoming too frightened to continue to her fate. She kept her head down and even when the elf tried to raise her face to look into her eyes, she shook her head and kept trudging behind the line of Orcs. They walked for several miles through the pass that consisted mainly of unstable and sharp black rocks.

Finally, Ellwyn raised her eyes to look upon the tower they had arrived at, after so many long hours and days of journeying. The vast tower of Cirith Ungol, completed in its building save for a last remnant of unfinished stone near the top. She found herself unable to tear her eyes from it and continued staring at it breathlessly for many moments.

The Orcs leading them quietly dispersed into the tower's several entrances, leaving the elven prince and the half-elven girl to look upon the tower in sheer awe and terror.

It was Legolas who finally broke the silence. "A destiny awaits you, mellen. We should go to meet it."

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All names, places, or plot/history affiliated with LOTR are entitled to J.R.R. Tolkien. The rest is from my imagination. If there are any errors in the history/land/names of anything related to Tolkien's works, please inform me.