Fallen From Grace
Chapter 2
The journey to Amon Thranduil was quiet and, for all parties, an especially dragged out one. Finally, though, after several hours that felt like several days to all parties, they found themselves in the hall of the Elven King.
Thranduil's fine features were creased with worry as he sat upon his carven throne. Perched upon his fair head was a crown of woodland flowers and slender fingers were tightly gripping an oaken staff. He peered at the party, his eyes narrowing suspiciously as they passed over Man and Dwarf. He turned to the elves and asked, "what news have you?"
The same elf that had spoken to Gimli and Aragorn stepped forward, head bowed as he held out the bow he had identified as belonging to Legolas. "We bear sad tidings, Your Highness. It would appear that your son has been taken by the Orcs."
He frowned deeply, and took the favoured, though now damaged, weapon. "That is indeed grave news... Who is this you have brought with you? Without so much as a blindfold to hide our location in these most dangerous times!"
The young Elf winced under the king's glare. "My apologies..." he gestured grandly to the pair. "May I present to Your Highness, Aragorn son of Arathorn and Gimli son of Gloin. Of the Fellowship of the Ring."
"Of the Nine Walkers," Thranduil added, thoughtfully. His gaze turned upon them. "My son has spoken of you." He scowled disapprovingly at the Dwarf. "Quite highly. What brings you through my forest?"
Gimli returned the scowl defiantly, but Aragorn stepped in before he could speak. "There have been rumours of Orcs roaming these woods in greater numbers. Even of disappearances, such as that of Legolas. We have no desire other than to discover the reasons behind this and bring it to an end."
Thranduil seemed to consider this, and after several long moments, he nodded sharply. "Very well. I shall allow you safe passage through this wood on the condition that Tadrien-" he gestured to the apparent party leader- "accompany you. I am certain he shall prove invaluable and I shall not have my people unrepresented in a matter that clearly concerns us."
Aragorn bit his lip, considering his own choice of words carefully before speaking. "That may not be wise... To send an Elf against a force that clearly targets them-"
The Elven King glared. "That is my only condition, and since my own son is the latest victim in all of this, I do not think it so much to ask!"
The Man nodded. He understood the Elf's desire to protect the interests of his people, and other than the words from his now missing child, he knew nothing of them. "Very well. We shall agree to take Tadrien with us." He glanced at the young Elf and bowed his head respectfully at the king. "We shall depart imediately with your permission."
His words placated the king, who seemed, currently, more like a deeply troubled parent. He nodded. "Very well. May Elbereth go with you."
****
Legolas regained consciousness, once again, upside down. This time, however, he was completely stationary. And in pain. His eyes flickered open and as he gazed around the darkened, underground, upside down, cell. He could make out crumbling stone walls surrounding him, and a large, heavy door in front of him.
His head, as before, throbbed dully, and sharp pain radiated through his chest with every breath, as he became aware of the bite of cold iron encircling his ankles.
The door opened and a hooded figure strode into the room, accompanied by a pair of Orcs, carrying clubs. "Well, well, well..." he rasped. "Legolas... Greenleaf, of... the Fellowship, so... I'm told... You shall make... a worthy addition... to my army..."
The elf scowled, "I shall certainly not!" He declared defiantly.
The figure laughed hoarsely and touched his cheek with a long, pale finger, sending a chill to Legolas's very soul. "Oh, you most... Certainly shall... They all fall... eventually... You are... no different..." He turned to the Orcs and took a sharp, hissing, breath. "Come fetch me... When it is... time..."
The Orcs grinned cruelly and smacked their clubs against their hands as they closed in on their victim. "Fun..." One of them declared, suddenly lashing out and hitting Legolas in the stomach.
He gasped as the blow caused him to curl upwards, clutching his abdomen painfully. "Cowards..." he hissed.
The second Orc smirked. "Howl, elf!" It demanded, bringing his own weapon up to strike his back.
Legolas fell back against the wall, clenching his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut against the developing agony. "Never..." he snarled.
One of the clubs landed on his left hand, accompanied by the gut-wrenching sound of crunching bone. He cried out, craddling the new injury against his chest. Yet another crack sent searing pain through one of his knees and he had to turn his head to keep the Orcs from seeing the tears of anguish shining in his eyes as he hollared.
*Elbereth, help me...* he pleaded silently, giving a loud scream as he felt the bones in his cheek and nose give way under another heavy blow.
The cloaked figure, meanwhile, smiled down the hall as he could hear the echoing tortured wails coming from the cells.
Chapter 2
The journey to Amon Thranduil was quiet and, for all parties, an especially dragged out one. Finally, though, after several hours that felt like several days to all parties, they found themselves in the hall of the Elven King.
Thranduil's fine features were creased with worry as he sat upon his carven throne. Perched upon his fair head was a crown of woodland flowers and slender fingers were tightly gripping an oaken staff. He peered at the party, his eyes narrowing suspiciously as they passed over Man and Dwarf. He turned to the elves and asked, "what news have you?"
The same elf that had spoken to Gimli and Aragorn stepped forward, head bowed as he held out the bow he had identified as belonging to Legolas. "We bear sad tidings, Your Highness. It would appear that your son has been taken by the Orcs."
He frowned deeply, and took the favoured, though now damaged, weapon. "That is indeed grave news... Who is this you have brought with you? Without so much as a blindfold to hide our location in these most dangerous times!"
The young Elf winced under the king's glare. "My apologies..." he gestured grandly to the pair. "May I present to Your Highness, Aragorn son of Arathorn and Gimli son of Gloin. Of the Fellowship of the Ring."
"Of the Nine Walkers," Thranduil added, thoughtfully. His gaze turned upon them. "My son has spoken of you." He scowled disapprovingly at the Dwarf. "Quite highly. What brings you through my forest?"
Gimli returned the scowl defiantly, but Aragorn stepped in before he could speak. "There have been rumours of Orcs roaming these woods in greater numbers. Even of disappearances, such as that of Legolas. We have no desire other than to discover the reasons behind this and bring it to an end."
Thranduil seemed to consider this, and after several long moments, he nodded sharply. "Very well. I shall allow you safe passage through this wood on the condition that Tadrien-" he gestured to the apparent party leader- "accompany you. I am certain he shall prove invaluable and I shall not have my people unrepresented in a matter that clearly concerns us."
Aragorn bit his lip, considering his own choice of words carefully before speaking. "That may not be wise... To send an Elf against a force that clearly targets them-"
The Elven King glared. "That is my only condition, and since my own son is the latest victim in all of this, I do not think it so much to ask!"
The Man nodded. He understood the Elf's desire to protect the interests of his people, and other than the words from his now missing child, he knew nothing of them. "Very well. We shall agree to take Tadrien with us." He glanced at the young Elf and bowed his head respectfully at the king. "We shall depart imediately with your permission."
His words placated the king, who seemed, currently, more like a deeply troubled parent. He nodded. "Very well. May Elbereth go with you."
****
Legolas regained consciousness, once again, upside down. This time, however, he was completely stationary. And in pain. His eyes flickered open and as he gazed around the darkened, underground, upside down, cell. He could make out crumbling stone walls surrounding him, and a large, heavy door in front of him.
His head, as before, throbbed dully, and sharp pain radiated through his chest with every breath, as he became aware of the bite of cold iron encircling his ankles.
The door opened and a hooded figure strode into the room, accompanied by a pair of Orcs, carrying clubs. "Well, well, well..." he rasped. "Legolas... Greenleaf, of... the Fellowship, so... I'm told... You shall make... a worthy addition... to my army..."
The elf scowled, "I shall certainly not!" He declared defiantly.
The figure laughed hoarsely and touched his cheek with a long, pale finger, sending a chill to Legolas's very soul. "Oh, you most... Certainly shall... They all fall... eventually... You are... no different..." He turned to the Orcs and took a sharp, hissing, breath. "Come fetch me... When it is... time..."
The Orcs grinned cruelly and smacked their clubs against their hands as they closed in on their victim. "Fun..." One of them declared, suddenly lashing out and hitting Legolas in the stomach.
He gasped as the blow caused him to curl upwards, clutching his abdomen painfully. "Cowards..." he hissed.
The second Orc smirked. "Howl, elf!" It demanded, bringing his own weapon up to strike his back.
Legolas fell back against the wall, clenching his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut against the developing agony. "Never..." he snarled.
One of the clubs landed on his left hand, accompanied by the gut-wrenching sound of crunching bone. He cried out, craddling the new injury against his chest. Yet another crack sent searing pain through one of his knees and he had to turn his head to keep the Orcs from seeing the tears of anguish shining in his eyes as he hollared.
*Elbereth, help me...* he pleaded silently, giving a loud scream as he felt the bones in his cheek and nose give way under another heavy blow.
The cloaked figure, meanwhile, smiled down the hall as he could hear the echoing tortured wails coming from the cells.