Chapter 7 - not yet revised
He lay on the ground panting, pain washing over him in waves. He felt blood trickle from between his lips as he tried to push himself up, but found he couldn't. His fingers dug into the rich soil beneath him, the heady, scent of the fertile earth of Mirkwood rising to his nostrils. He gasped for breath as he tried to push himself even just to his knees. But then a foot slammed into his back forcing him down once more. A cry was torn from him and more blood gagged him as it filled his mouth.
"That wasn't very nice, Legolas Elvellon. Not nice at all." The Orc twisted the arrow, forcing a cry from the Elf's lips.
"You can't run back to your Ranger. Not this time." He slid the arrow slowly from Legolas' back, delighting in the gasp that escaped him, through tightly clamped teeth. He held the arrow up, smiling. "You have served me well, morn gothfeng," [black arrow], he whispered caressing its length with delight. He placed it in the quiver, then reached down and grabbed a handful of the Elf's silky blonde hair, twining it around his fist. "Get up, Legolas Elvellon." He yanked hard, pulling him to his feet.
The prince of Mirkwood gave a startled cry of pain and fell against Egla Ash, his legs betraying him.
"Stand up! Where is that legendary strength of the Elves? Or are you only strong when your Ranger is around?" He shoved him back, watching him fall back to the forest floor.
Legolas writhed on the ground, whimpers of pain rising in the warm night air. His body began to shake, tears streaking his face.
"Please," he gasped out, a plea wrung from his heart.
Egla Ash stared down at him, seeming to hesitate. Then he bent down pulling the Elf upright once more.
"The others are waiting. Or did you forget that your friends are in the clutches of their enemies as well?"
Blood dripped from his chin in a steady flow, to soak into the ground at his feet.
Lindir.and Cuil and Calenthar taken.
Brethil, Tanglinna, and Meren slain.
He sobbed, his emotions so ragged and torn, that he couldn't stop himself.
Egla Ash glared.
"I told you tears do not move me. Come You can always hope that your Ranger is coming to rescue you."
"Im gar al estel." [I have no hope.]
The Orc started. The Elf had used those very words when he was imprisoned beneath Emyn Mor Esgal after days of torture and torment.
"I have no hope."
"Yes. You do. Hope is coming. He has told me," Egla Ash had said him, so afraid of the defeat and despair in the other's voice.
"Who?"
"A Ranger. They are coming."
"They are coming?"
"Yes. Tonight. Please do not despair. All will be well."
The words of a long forgotten song drifted into the Orc's mind:
"Have hope while the stars shine.
Though darkness may hold you
A star's light will shine through."
He growled suddenly.
"There are no stars tonight!" He thrust Legolas' limp form away. "There never will be. Not for you. Not now. Not ever! There is no hope!"
Legolas collapsed at his feet, moaning and trembling, but Egla Ash pulled him up once more. The Orc tightened his fist on the rope binding the Elf. He glared furiously into the blue eyes, his mouth a twisted snarl. Then, half dragging him, he pulled Legolas back the way they had come.
Aragorn was seated by a small fire, his pipe clamped between his teeth. He stared lazily at the sky over head; clouds obscured the moon and stars. Perhaps it would rain later. He could see heat lightning in the distance and a far rumble of thunder. He sighed. He would have to move to a more weatherproof place than this small field in a place known as the Shire. Gandalf had asked him to keep a watch over the inhabitants of the small village of Hobbiton. One individual in particular. The Halflings - or Hobbits - were an amusing race and the Ranger was constantly laughing at their rustic antics. He stayed out of sight since they didn't trust the Big People. He didn't want to alarm them. And there was enough that he knew of that alarmed him.
The Hobbit that he had been sent to keep an eye on was one Frodo Baggins. He was Bilbo's young cousin and that alone would have made Aragorn like him. He truly enjoyed the time he had spent in the old Hobbit's company when he had come to stay at Rivendell. He wondered at times if the Hobbit had any Elvish blood in his ancestry since his love of tales and songs was so great.
But this night the Ranger's thoughts were not on Frodo, who was at the Green Dragon Inn in Bywater with his friend Samwise Gamgee enjoying a pint or two. All that day his thoughts had been troubled, by what he didn't know. But now as the stars were blocked from view by thick clouds his worry began to take form again. He took a deep puff on his pipe and blew the smoke into the air, watching the ethereal wisps wreath his head. He cast his mind about, wondering who could be in trouble. He knew that it wasn't anyone in his foster family. He would have known immediately if they had been in danger. He allowed himself a small smile as a well-loved face filled his mind.
"Arwen," he breathed, taking a deep breath of the sweet scented summer air. No, it wasn't his beloved Evenstar. And for that he was grateful. He didn't know what he would do if she ever came to any harm.
He thought of his friends and then he settled on a name. He sat up.
"Legolas?"
Anxiety ate through him. He was certain now that it was indeed Legolas Greenleaf that was in danger. Indecision worried at his mind. He wanted to leave this peaceful part of Middle Earth and head immediately for Mirkwood. But he knew that his duty was here. Mirkwood was quite a journey and that what ever threatened his friend would take place long before he could ever reach the forest. He turned gazing eastward.
"Legolas," he murmured, his hand clenching on Narsil's hilt. "I can't help you, my friend. I am sorry."
As he lay down later that night to rest his dreams were haunted by a single black arrow flying through the night.
Gollum continued to mutter to himself as they ran through the trees. The night was passing quickly and as the sun came up the Orcs stopped.
"We hates it," he hissed. "We hates the Yellow Face." He covered his head with his large hands. He didn't want to travel beneath the sun any more than the Orcs. They found shelter in the thick tangled undergrowth, where the sun's rays shone weakly. They tied the three Elves to trees, ropes around their necks, their arms pulled back to 'hug' the tree behind them, ropes knotted on the other side. They were taking no chances. The Orcs joked amongst themselves about the sport they would have later when the sun was going down. Gollum looked up at Lindir, the young Elf's fair face pale and filled with fear.
"Poor Elf," he said quietly, worrying at his own rope, until one of the Orcs growled at him.
"Lindir?"
The young Elf turned to his left. Cuil and Calenthar were both looking at him.
"Are you well, young one?" Calenthar asked, his eyes full of concern for the younger Elf.
Lindir swallowed and nodded, squeezing his eyes shut.
"I am well," he managed, hoping to hide his fear.
The two Elves glanced at one another.
"All will be well. They know that we are missing by now and I am certain that they will come after us. Do not be afraid."
Lindir nodded, not trusting his voice enough to speak.
"The creature is looking at you, Lindir," Cuil said, trying to find something to distract the youth. "I think that he is sorry that you were taken. Though I am certain that he wishes Calenthar and I were dead. He likes you."
Lindir's eyes traveled to Gollum once more. Indeed the strange little being was gazing at him with sorrow in his large greenish eyes. He smiled slightly at him.
Gollum reacted with such joy that Lindir felt a flood of warmth for him. The creature smiled and raised his hand. For all that he was so strange and fey Lindir did like him. He found that odd and yet comforting. Was this how Legolas felt for the Orc Egla Ash? Perhaps such friendships weren't so hard to understand after all.
But later that day Lindir would question such friendships.
He heard a commotion behind him, coming from the north. He strained around to see, but the tree's girth was too great and the pain in his aching muscles screamed in protest. He heard Orcs talking excitedly and then he heard their vile laughter. He looked over at Cuil and Calenthar who shook their heads. They couldn't discern what was happening either. But then to their horror, the Orcs came into view. There was another Orc with them, one they hadn't seen before. He had a rope knotted about his large fist. He jerked the rope hard and they watched as another Elf fell into the midst of the Orcs.
"No!" Lindir gasped. "Legolas!"
Cuil and Calenthar stared at their prince in shock and dismay. How had this happened?
There was blood on Legolas' face and it stained the front and the back of his tunic. One sleeve was shredded and blood adorned it as well. His face was pale, too pale. The two older Elves exchanged glances as they took in his appearance. Dark circles were around his eyes and he looked fevered. They knew what this meant: a poisoned weapon had wounded him.
"Alcar anna ned an i achas a naeg, nin caun,"[Do not give in to the fear and pain, my prince,] Cuil said, his eyes bright with encouragement.
An Orc stepped over to the Elf and backhanded him, drawing blood.
"Silence! You will not speak that language before us," he growled, his hand resting on the hilt of his scimitar.
"No!" Legolas cried. "Do not touch them!"
The Orc laughed and walked back to where Legolas was kneeling on the ground.
"You want to take their punishment, do you?"
The Elf's eyes were bright with defiance and anger even as he swayed on his knees. "What punishment do they deserve, foul beast! Do not harm them!" He snarled, though his pain was so great that speaking was nigh on impossible.
"They deserve punishment for being Elves. And how would you stop us?"
The Orc bent down and grabbed the rope around his throat, twisting it.
"What are ya going to do?" He hissed into Legolas' face. His fist smashed into his wounded chest.
At his friend's wail of pain Lindir fought with his ropes.
"You cannot do that to him," the young Elf cried. "He is a prince! You cannot treat him this way!"
Cuil and Calenthar exchanged horrified glances.
"No, Lindir!" Calenthar gasped.
But it was too late.
"Prince? Did you say Prince?" The Orc grabbed the rope once more and pulled Legolas to his knees. "Why didn't you tell us that your friend was an Elf prince, Blue Eyes?"
Egla Ash merely stared at the other Orc.
The Orc smiled viciously, its yellow eyes filled with malicious delight.
"We have a prince!" He called, drawing the attention of all the Orcs.
Hoots of laughter and howls of delight filled the air of Mirkwood. Lindir realized his mistake.
"Oh, no," he moaned, guilty despair filling him. "What have I done?"
Gollum had watched the exchange with little feeling. As long as they didn't hurt his Elf he didn't care. He watched as the Elf who didn't sing any more was yanked roughly to his feet.
Legolas stood unsteadily, grim pride kept him standing. This was too like what had befallen him in Emyn Mor Esgal. He glared at the Orc before him. He was vaguely glad that it was not Egla Ash. He couldn't have taken that. He was aware of the other Orcs surrounding him, making a tight circle about him and the Orc who still held the rope the encircled his neck. He knew that he had no chance of escape now. There was only one course of action. He smiled grimly then jammed his knee hard between the Orcs legs, hearing the vile beast howl in pain and shock. A quick grin touched his lips before the other Orcs overwhelmed him knocking him to the ground beneath them as they pummeled him with fists and feet.
Thranduil watched as the three slain Elves were carried to their homes, to their families. Three were missing. Only two had been slain here at the palace though several others had taken wounds. Many dead Orcs littered the fair streets of his realm and now Tavor had told him that he had left Legolas alone in the forest at the site of the attack. The Elven king had kept his disbelief and rage in check, but only barely. He passed a hand through his long golden hair, a few shades darker than his youngest son's. He gestured for his guards.
"I want a group ready to follow me into the forest as soon as they can assemble." The guard who had overheard the conversation between the king and Tavor nodded and moved away, calling to his fellows.
Tavor soon rejoined him, his face betraying the guilt and the grief he felt so keenly.
"My lord, you know I would not have left him, except he insisted on it."
Thranduil nodded curtly. He pulled his sword from its sheath and studied its silvery length.
"I.I want to accompany you. He is my friend."
"Then prepare, Tavor. Because I leave momentarily and will wait for no one." Tavor bowed and sprinted off to collect more arrows. He didn't see the small shape standing in the shadows.
Meneliell watched the renewed activity, her large blue eyes filled with tears. Orcs had taken Lindir. The grief at this thought threatened to overcome her. She pressed her hands together, tightening them, so that the knuckles whitened. She could see that they were preparing to leave to rescue the captured, but how could they expect her to stand by and mourn when her lover was one of them. She would not. She turned and hurried down the street and ran to her home.
She stared at her reflection in the mirror. King Thranduil would allow no females to accompany them. The women were protected - stifled- since the death of the king's own wife at the hands of the Orcs. But this would not stop her. She unsheathed a sharp dagger and grabbing her long auburn tresses, which fell to her knees, sliced off her hair at her shoulders. She ran to her clothing chest and pulled out a pair of rust colored leggings and a grey shirt that Lindir had left there. She raised the shirt to her nose, breathing in his scent.
"Im tolui, nin penmeleth." [I (am) coming, my beloved.]
She donned the clothing and turned to look at her reflection once more. It would do. She threw on a cloak, pulling it up to hide her features. Her dagger was thrust through the leather belt and she was ready. As she made her way from her house, she grabbed up the bow and quiver that one of her brothers had left near the door.
Shouldering them she hurried into the streets and to the palace to join the rescue party.
*Okay, I know. She's pulling a Mulan. But I loved that scene in the movie. And if its good enough for Eowyn then its good enough for Meneliell! *Just an interesting aside - Have you guys read "The Return of the Shadow" by Christopher Tolkien. It goes in depth into the writing of LOTR. In one version there was a Hobbit named Orlando and one named Vigo. Weird, huh.
Response to Reviewers JastaElf - Thanks for the great review as always. My muse appreciates hugs!! Great story and I see you have some reviews already! Good show! You're a hit!! Lithia - Thanks for reviewing. I am always glad to hear from you! Speed doesn't matter. Though you're pretty fast! Faster than I am about reviewing. Oh dear. Horus - You're right. (sigh) I can't kill Legolas. I'm not wicked (or strong?) enough for that. Oh, well. AJ Matthews - Well, no. Uh, Aragorn is not nearby. Uh oh! Salak - Write Faster Dances seem to work. Keep it swinging!! Shinigamio - I just like to torture you guys. (evil laughter) But since I don't like to torture myself I update as soon as the chapter is ready!
He lay on the ground panting, pain washing over him in waves. He felt blood trickle from between his lips as he tried to push himself up, but found he couldn't. His fingers dug into the rich soil beneath him, the heady, scent of the fertile earth of Mirkwood rising to his nostrils. He gasped for breath as he tried to push himself even just to his knees. But then a foot slammed into his back forcing him down once more. A cry was torn from him and more blood gagged him as it filled his mouth.
"That wasn't very nice, Legolas Elvellon. Not nice at all." The Orc twisted the arrow, forcing a cry from the Elf's lips.
"You can't run back to your Ranger. Not this time." He slid the arrow slowly from Legolas' back, delighting in the gasp that escaped him, through tightly clamped teeth. He held the arrow up, smiling. "You have served me well, morn gothfeng," [black arrow], he whispered caressing its length with delight. He placed it in the quiver, then reached down and grabbed a handful of the Elf's silky blonde hair, twining it around his fist. "Get up, Legolas Elvellon." He yanked hard, pulling him to his feet.
The prince of Mirkwood gave a startled cry of pain and fell against Egla Ash, his legs betraying him.
"Stand up! Where is that legendary strength of the Elves? Or are you only strong when your Ranger is around?" He shoved him back, watching him fall back to the forest floor.
Legolas writhed on the ground, whimpers of pain rising in the warm night air. His body began to shake, tears streaking his face.
"Please," he gasped out, a plea wrung from his heart.
Egla Ash stared down at him, seeming to hesitate. Then he bent down pulling the Elf upright once more.
"The others are waiting. Or did you forget that your friends are in the clutches of their enemies as well?"
Blood dripped from his chin in a steady flow, to soak into the ground at his feet.
Lindir.and Cuil and Calenthar taken.
Brethil, Tanglinna, and Meren slain.
He sobbed, his emotions so ragged and torn, that he couldn't stop himself.
Egla Ash glared.
"I told you tears do not move me. Come You can always hope that your Ranger is coming to rescue you."
"Im gar al estel." [I have no hope.]
The Orc started. The Elf had used those very words when he was imprisoned beneath Emyn Mor Esgal after days of torture and torment.
"I have no hope."
"Yes. You do. Hope is coming. He has told me," Egla Ash had said him, so afraid of the defeat and despair in the other's voice.
"Who?"
"A Ranger. They are coming."
"They are coming?"
"Yes. Tonight. Please do not despair. All will be well."
The words of a long forgotten song drifted into the Orc's mind:
"Have hope while the stars shine.
Though darkness may hold you
A star's light will shine through."
He growled suddenly.
"There are no stars tonight!" He thrust Legolas' limp form away. "There never will be. Not for you. Not now. Not ever! There is no hope!"
Legolas collapsed at his feet, moaning and trembling, but Egla Ash pulled him up once more. The Orc tightened his fist on the rope binding the Elf. He glared furiously into the blue eyes, his mouth a twisted snarl. Then, half dragging him, he pulled Legolas back the way they had come.
Aragorn was seated by a small fire, his pipe clamped between his teeth. He stared lazily at the sky over head; clouds obscured the moon and stars. Perhaps it would rain later. He could see heat lightning in the distance and a far rumble of thunder. He sighed. He would have to move to a more weatherproof place than this small field in a place known as the Shire. Gandalf had asked him to keep a watch over the inhabitants of the small village of Hobbiton. One individual in particular. The Halflings - or Hobbits - were an amusing race and the Ranger was constantly laughing at their rustic antics. He stayed out of sight since they didn't trust the Big People. He didn't want to alarm them. And there was enough that he knew of that alarmed him.
The Hobbit that he had been sent to keep an eye on was one Frodo Baggins. He was Bilbo's young cousin and that alone would have made Aragorn like him. He truly enjoyed the time he had spent in the old Hobbit's company when he had come to stay at Rivendell. He wondered at times if the Hobbit had any Elvish blood in his ancestry since his love of tales and songs was so great.
But this night the Ranger's thoughts were not on Frodo, who was at the Green Dragon Inn in Bywater with his friend Samwise Gamgee enjoying a pint or two. All that day his thoughts had been troubled, by what he didn't know. But now as the stars were blocked from view by thick clouds his worry began to take form again. He took a deep puff on his pipe and blew the smoke into the air, watching the ethereal wisps wreath his head. He cast his mind about, wondering who could be in trouble. He knew that it wasn't anyone in his foster family. He would have known immediately if they had been in danger. He allowed himself a small smile as a well-loved face filled his mind.
"Arwen," he breathed, taking a deep breath of the sweet scented summer air. No, it wasn't his beloved Evenstar. And for that he was grateful. He didn't know what he would do if she ever came to any harm.
He thought of his friends and then he settled on a name. He sat up.
"Legolas?"
Anxiety ate through him. He was certain now that it was indeed Legolas Greenleaf that was in danger. Indecision worried at his mind. He wanted to leave this peaceful part of Middle Earth and head immediately for Mirkwood. But he knew that his duty was here. Mirkwood was quite a journey and that what ever threatened his friend would take place long before he could ever reach the forest. He turned gazing eastward.
"Legolas," he murmured, his hand clenching on Narsil's hilt. "I can't help you, my friend. I am sorry."
As he lay down later that night to rest his dreams were haunted by a single black arrow flying through the night.
Gollum continued to mutter to himself as they ran through the trees. The night was passing quickly and as the sun came up the Orcs stopped.
"We hates it," he hissed. "We hates the Yellow Face." He covered his head with his large hands. He didn't want to travel beneath the sun any more than the Orcs. They found shelter in the thick tangled undergrowth, where the sun's rays shone weakly. They tied the three Elves to trees, ropes around their necks, their arms pulled back to 'hug' the tree behind them, ropes knotted on the other side. They were taking no chances. The Orcs joked amongst themselves about the sport they would have later when the sun was going down. Gollum looked up at Lindir, the young Elf's fair face pale and filled with fear.
"Poor Elf," he said quietly, worrying at his own rope, until one of the Orcs growled at him.
"Lindir?"
The young Elf turned to his left. Cuil and Calenthar were both looking at him.
"Are you well, young one?" Calenthar asked, his eyes full of concern for the younger Elf.
Lindir swallowed and nodded, squeezing his eyes shut.
"I am well," he managed, hoping to hide his fear.
The two Elves glanced at one another.
"All will be well. They know that we are missing by now and I am certain that they will come after us. Do not be afraid."
Lindir nodded, not trusting his voice enough to speak.
"The creature is looking at you, Lindir," Cuil said, trying to find something to distract the youth. "I think that he is sorry that you were taken. Though I am certain that he wishes Calenthar and I were dead. He likes you."
Lindir's eyes traveled to Gollum once more. Indeed the strange little being was gazing at him with sorrow in his large greenish eyes. He smiled slightly at him.
Gollum reacted with such joy that Lindir felt a flood of warmth for him. The creature smiled and raised his hand. For all that he was so strange and fey Lindir did like him. He found that odd and yet comforting. Was this how Legolas felt for the Orc Egla Ash? Perhaps such friendships weren't so hard to understand after all.
But later that day Lindir would question such friendships.
He heard a commotion behind him, coming from the north. He strained around to see, but the tree's girth was too great and the pain in his aching muscles screamed in protest. He heard Orcs talking excitedly and then he heard their vile laughter. He looked over at Cuil and Calenthar who shook their heads. They couldn't discern what was happening either. But then to their horror, the Orcs came into view. There was another Orc with them, one they hadn't seen before. He had a rope knotted about his large fist. He jerked the rope hard and they watched as another Elf fell into the midst of the Orcs.
"No!" Lindir gasped. "Legolas!"
Cuil and Calenthar stared at their prince in shock and dismay. How had this happened?
There was blood on Legolas' face and it stained the front and the back of his tunic. One sleeve was shredded and blood adorned it as well. His face was pale, too pale. The two older Elves exchanged glances as they took in his appearance. Dark circles were around his eyes and he looked fevered. They knew what this meant: a poisoned weapon had wounded him.
"Alcar anna ned an i achas a naeg, nin caun,"[Do not give in to the fear and pain, my prince,] Cuil said, his eyes bright with encouragement.
An Orc stepped over to the Elf and backhanded him, drawing blood.
"Silence! You will not speak that language before us," he growled, his hand resting on the hilt of his scimitar.
"No!" Legolas cried. "Do not touch them!"
The Orc laughed and walked back to where Legolas was kneeling on the ground.
"You want to take their punishment, do you?"
The Elf's eyes were bright with defiance and anger even as he swayed on his knees. "What punishment do they deserve, foul beast! Do not harm them!" He snarled, though his pain was so great that speaking was nigh on impossible.
"They deserve punishment for being Elves. And how would you stop us?"
The Orc bent down and grabbed the rope around his throat, twisting it.
"What are ya going to do?" He hissed into Legolas' face. His fist smashed into his wounded chest.
At his friend's wail of pain Lindir fought with his ropes.
"You cannot do that to him," the young Elf cried. "He is a prince! You cannot treat him this way!"
Cuil and Calenthar exchanged horrified glances.
"No, Lindir!" Calenthar gasped.
But it was too late.
"Prince? Did you say Prince?" The Orc grabbed the rope once more and pulled Legolas to his knees. "Why didn't you tell us that your friend was an Elf prince, Blue Eyes?"
Egla Ash merely stared at the other Orc.
The Orc smiled viciously, its yellow eyes filled with malicious delight.
"We have a prince!" He called, drawing the attention of all the Orcs.
Hoots of laughter and howls of delight filled the air of Mirkwood. Lindir realized his mistake.
"Oh, no," he moaned, guilty despair filling him. "What have I done?"
Gollum had watched the exchange with little feeling. As long as they didn't hurt his Elf he didn't care. He watched as the Elf who didn't sing any more was yanked roughly to his feet.
Legolas stood unsteadily, grim pride kept him standing. This was too like what had befallen him in Emyn Mor Esgal. He glared at the Orc before him. He was vaguely glad that it was not Egla Ash. He couldn't have taken that. He was aware of the other Orcs surrounding him, making a tight circle about him and the Orc who still held the rope the encircled his neck. He knew that he had no chance of escape now. There was only one course of action. He smiled grimly then jammed his knee hard between the Orcs legs, hearing the vile beast howl in pain and shock. A quick grin touched his lips before the other Orcs overwhelmed him knocking him to the ground beneath them as they pummeled him with fists and feet.
Thranduil watched as the three slain Elves were carried to their homes, to their families. Three were missing. Only two had been slain here at the palace though several others had taken wounds. Many dead Orcs littered the fair streets of his realm and now Tavor had told him that he had left Legolas alone in the forest at the site of the attack. The Elven king had kept his disbelief and rage in check, but only barely. He passed a hand through his long golden hair, a few shades darker than his youngest son's. He gestured for his guards.
"I want a group ready to follow me into the forest as soon as they can assemble." The guard who had overheard the conversation between the king and Tavor nodded and moved away, calling to his fellows.
Tavor soon rejoined him, his face betraying the guilt and the grief he felt so keenly.
"My lord, you know I would not have left him, except he insisted on it."
Thranduil nodded curtly. He pulled his sword from its sheath and studied its silvery length.
"I.I want to accompany you. He is my friend."
"Then prepare, Tavor. Because I leave momentarily and will wait for no one." Tavor bowed and sprinted off to collect more arrows. He didn't see the small shape standing in the shadows.
Meneliell watched the renewed activity, her large blue eyes filled with tears. Orcs had taken Lindir. The grief at this thought threatened to overcome her. She pressed her hands together, tightening them, so that the knuckles whitened. She could see that they were preparing to leave to rescue the captured, but how could they expect her to stand by and mourn when her lover was one of them. She would not. She turned and hurried down the street and ran to her home.
She stared at her reflection in the mirror. King Thranduil would allow no females to accompany them. The women were protected - stifled- since the death of the king's own wife at the hands of the Orcs. But this would not stop her. She unsheathed a sharp dagger and grabbing her long auburn tresses, which fell to her knees, sliced off her hair at her shoulders. She ran to her clothing chest and pulled out a pair of rust colored leggings and a grey shirt that Lindir had left there. She raised the shirt to her nose, breathing in his scent.
"Im tolui, nin penmeleth." [I (am) coming, my beloved.]
She donned the clothing and turned to look at her reflection once more. It would do. She threw on a cloak, pulling it up to hide her features. Her dagger was thrust through the leather belt and she was ready. As she made her way from her house, she grabbed up the bow and quiver that one of her brothers had left near the door.
Shouldering them she hurried into the streets and to the palace to join the rescue party.
*Okay, I know. She's pulling a Mulan. But I loved that scene in the movie. And if its good enough for Eowyn then its good enough for Meneliell! *Just an interesting aside - Have you guys read "The Return of the Shadow" by Christopher Tolkien. It goes in depth into the writing of LOTR. In one version there was a Hobbit named Orlando and one named Vigo. Weird, huh.
Response to Reviewers JastaElf - Thanks for the great review as always. My muse appreciates hugs!! Great story and I see you have some reviews already! Good show! You're a hit!! Lithia - Thanks for reviewing. I am always glad to hear from you! Speed doesn't matter. Though you're pretty fast! Faster than I am about reviewing. Oh dear. Horus - You're right. (sigh) I can't kill Legolas. I'm not wicked (or strong?) enough for that. Oh, well. AJ Matthews - Well, no. Uh, Aragorn is not nearby. Uh oh! Salak - Write Faster Dances seem to work. Keep it swinging!! Shinigamio - I just like to torture you guys. (evil laughter) But since I don't like to torture myself I update as soon as the chapter is ready!