Minka: *Looks at all you people disgustedly* you people should be ashamed of yourselves! Taking pleasure in watching such a hot and nice Elf getting tortured!!

Random reader: but YOU wrote it so doesn't that make you worse?

Minka: oh yeah! *Walks off to think on that for awhile*

Well here it is (for all you people that just would not leave me alone) the next dark and sadistic chapter of *in a melodramatic voice* The Blood of the Innocent!

CHAPTER AND STORY NEWS: ok, this chapter is your last chance to work out just what the hell is going on in my mind! Next chapter all mysteries will be revealed, including the two—no—now three strangers outside looking for Legolas, as well as what really happened to the poor Elf!

I have also decided to actually get off my ass and get a plot! Which is something that I admit I have been lacking for the last five chapters. By doing this I have created yet another twist just to confuse you, but this twist will be focused on in the sequel.

This chapter also sees a strange little bit of memory, which is written in a strange way with some pretty out there grammar, (not good English) but this was done for a reason. Also, I have taken the pagan ideas of a trance and twisted them into the story, but you don't need to know anything about their ways to understand this.

The torture was one of the worst things I have ever written and I felt like I was going to be sick while doing so. All ideas (thankfully) did not come from my head as I took inspiration from the Inquisition, and Squassation has finally arrived (although I bet you'll all wish it hadn't.)

This is going to be either the second last or third last chapter of this story, but it will have a sequel. Basically the poor Elf can't realistically survive anymore so I have to wrap this up—one way or another—and being it to an end. So you all know what that means, lots of fight and action scenes coming up!

Ok, I think that is about all I have to say on this subject…confuzzled yet? Good! Cause I am too.

THANKYOUS:

Aurora spirit: this chapter is for you…Slave driver! Lol, thanks for getting my butt in gear.

Mercuria: I have a dream *everyone reading this falls asleep* I'll continue anyway. I have a dream, that dream shows a perfect world full of guys who look like Lego—no, that's my other dream! Lol. Seriously I want to bring back the wonderful world of torture and anguish without the rape or slash. I mean, they are loved characters, and torture can be good (as it creates a 'different' character and allows the writer to 'play') but when it comes to slash, it is a different story. And rape is even worse and I would never dream of writing something like that on to a character. *Two thumbs up! Ok, people, you can wake up now! *)

Rosie: I'm lost too.

Karina: *evil laughter* yes, there is more to come. *In true Trinity Matrix style* feel this! Lol.

Seamoose: watch ya back!

Scwigglie: do you know how many people have asked me that? Truth be told, I'm only just starting up with the whole thing, so I don't know if it is right! But I was thinking, if I get enough positive responses I will make an English to Sindar list and post it up here. I will try to do a complete list, including the different meanings for the words and how to pluralise words. But only if I get the response I am looking for.

Twilight Star: I think the proper term is sadism, but I like you're much better—fits with my confuzzled! Lol. And all will be revealed soon.

Lordoftheeagles: sounds good till ya meet the god damn teacher…he scares even me, and I don't normally get scared!

Dollrandir and Junior: *gives you both a puzzled look* you guys are odd! But I'm glad you liked it, and it is good that a guy likes this as well. I really do try my hardest at the whole fighting, pain & blood and I hope you like this. And Aragorn? *Shudder* I hate Aragorn! Dollrandir, have you made up your mind yet? And on the subject of Squassation, you are only half-right, what you described was a higher form on Strappado. Hope this chapter lives up to both of your expectations.

Nightshade: I loved that piece of Elven! Thanks! I nibin-fireb ath nor an udun!

A J Matthews: You're like everywhere! Not that that's a bad thing! Hope you like this story and maybe one-day I'll get a longer sentence out of ya! Lol, no offence intended…it's just that you are EVERYWHERE! Lol.

The Blood of the Innocent
Part Six
I Calad Firith im i Hûn! (The Light Fades within the Heart!)

**********

…I wanna know the truth,
Instead of wondering why.
I wanna know the answers,
No more lies.
I wanna shut the door,
And open up my mind. Linkin Park-Runaway.

******

Saruman saw the blood flow from his prisoner's mouth and knew that the Elf was close to dying. This-as much as he hated the thing suspended before him-was not what he wished. Not yet. The elf was still too important to his plans. Too important.

He lifted Legolas' head only to find that the prince had his eyes closed. His face was pale and blood made lines of glistering moisture across his fair features. Saruman shook Legolas' head roughly only to receive no response. At first the wizard thought that the prince had in fact cut his ties with the world, but he soon saw the Elf's lips moving faintly as he drew in ragged breath after ragged breath. The Elf had quietly slipped into unconsciousness.

"Take it away." Saruman commanded of the Orcs in the room. When they looked at their master, as if the Elf had some sway over his mind, Saruman screamed at them again. "Get it out of my sight unless you wish to take its place!" The Orcs quickly complied and removed Legolas from his chains, dragging him down the dark, barely lit hall towards his cell.

******

A figure walked through the trees, wind blowing his hair slightly. The soft musical notes of a waterfall drifted through the trees adding to the tranquil affect of the early evening. As the figure walked, he looked left to right, eyes darting around him constantly. He was uneasy, and he felt that something was amiss.

He climbed a slight hill and when he reached the crest, he saw a dark and menacing shape cutting into the dark sky. Tall rose the tower of Isengard, piercing the sky with its black walls and shadowed against the Misty Mountains.

It looked as it now was, a place of terror and torture, a place of darkness and evil. Orcs swarmed within the circle surrounding the tower, they were building a new army, one stronger and capable of walking in the sun. Others were pulling down the great Ents that surrounded the place of darkness and forging swords for the impending battle.

All this the figure watched with hollow eyes, for he knew of the events of Isengard. He knew of its betrayal to the people of Middle-earth and its owner's allegiance with the Dark Lord, Sauron.

But what greatly weighed upon his heart was the being that was held within the tower. Purest of all his people, he, and holding an innocence that most could not in such hard times. But he also held something else, somethingthat was forgotten, even to most of his people, something of which that the Elven prince himself had no comprehension. As the figure watched the dark tower, he was sure that the prince would soon find it within himself, if he had not already done so. And once found, it would not leave, and it would be the thing to overthrow such darkness. But until then, all the watching person could do was wait and hope that the Elf would survive long enough to discover himself.

******

Legolas groaned as he felt himself being pulled from the safety of dreams. His entire body ached, especially his arms and shoulders. The dark world in which he now lived in was coming into focus and, as he saw the black jagged walls of his cell. He rather wished he hadn't.

He tried to move his arms, but doing that proved to be much more painful then he had thought. His left shoulder throbbed, and his right felt as if it had been ripped out. Legolas looked over at it with sorrowful eyes. He could see that it was dislocated, and regrettably he would have to fix it. With a great sigh he pulled himself from the floor and leaned against the sharp wall. While leaning his back as close to the surface as he could, he wedged his right hand in the joint of where the floor met the wall. He pressed down with as much force as he could get out of his right hand and turned his head to the left so not to see what was about to happen. His shoulder had come forward due to the suspended position while his hands where behind his back, so he rested his left hand on the front of the dislocated limb. He dreaded what he had to do, but he knew it must be done or it would just cause him further injury.

With his teeth clenched together, Legolas mentally prepared himself for the pain. With one last sigh, he mustered all his strength and pushed back on his shoulder quickly and violently.

A loud pop echoed throughout the small cell, but it was soon lost in the shrill cry of pain that eventually grew into a scream.

His shoulder burned into him, threatening to plunge his world back into the darkness of unconscious sleep. Normally that would be something he would welcome gladly, but he felt that if he were to give into the dreams once more he might not come back. And that was not one of his wishes, especially now that he had something to live for, something other then revenge.

Legolas' cry of agony died down as quickly as it had come. He leaned against the wall with his head hanging down on his chest, gasping for air, and when he lifted his head the cell walls danced around him. He slowly slid down the wall and came to rest on the cold stone, shaking uncontrollably.

Legolas was never one to feel the cold or heat. It was a trait of his race, but as he lay there, he clearly felt the coolness of the stone and the surrounding air upon his skin. He shivered and moved his arms painfully around his body, trying to block out this new sensation.

I failed them, not Boromir. He tried to keep his thoughts on anything but the pain that tore through his body. He understood it now. It all made sense.

He hadn't failed them at all; at least he didn't think so. He closed his eyes and he concentrated hard, trying to remember all that had happened that day.

Legolas' mind was ablaze with thoughts, some useful, other not so. But he desperately sought one out, one that would answer everything, one that would reveal the way in which he was captured and the arrow wound in his
back. Slowly he willed himself into a sort of Dream State; a trance to find the answers to which he was seeking.

******

Saruman paced angrily back and forth in his chambers. He knew the elf was starting to remember what had really happened, and he knew that this could-and would-bring about the end of his plans. And as his encounter with the elf's strength had shown, it would take a lot to reinforce what he had previously done. All he knew was that he had to do it quickly and he had to do it right; otherwise his hold over the elf would be lost for good. And with the fact that the elf he held was The Elf it would not go down too well with Sauron if the prince defeated him, or even escaped.

With an angry tone he yelled out for the assistance of an Orc.

******

The sun rose in the sky and the two weary travelers awoke. Without a word spoken, they packed up their camp and took out a small amount of provisions to eat on the road.

They started off at a walking pace, while still awakening, yet as usual, they soon started to run. They hated the fact that they could not push themselves faster then what they had the last few days, but they were not like the elves who could go on at a cracking pace and keep it up, days on end.

Yet they would not let fatigue get the best of them. Not while their friend needed them so much.

Hold on Legolas. We are coming, just hold on until nightfall, for we shall be there. The leader kept trying to assure himself that his close friend was still alive. He knew that if Legolas had passed he would have felt it. He would have felt his presence leaving this world behind. Although Legolas was some two thousand years older then he, he had always felt that the Elf was fragile. Not weak-god knows not weak-just in need of protection occasionally. It was his appearance that brought on this sense of protectiveness. He was so thin and tall compared to a man, and looked as if he could snap. And his eyes. His eyes reflected such innocence, innocence like a child's if it were not for the glint of wisdom they also held.

But now his friend was captured and held in darkness and it was his entire fault. Legolas was facing far worse things then death and it was because of him. He was so distant, and the leader only hoped to bring him back. Hold on Legolas, please hold on.

******

Legolas stood there, watching the fellowship with interest as they got out of the boats. Sam, like the other three hobbits seemed to hate even the feel of the water and he quickly tiptoed through and onto the bank. Aragorn and Boromir both just walked through, unhindered at all by the liquid that lapped at their ankles, while Gimli found the water to be more shin deep and grunted as it filled his boots.

Suddenly the day progressed and the fellowship was siting around resting while Aragorn and Gimli were talking about what path to take next. The two were soon bickering, and Legolas felt himself opening his mouth to speak. "It is not the Eastern Shore that worries me. A shadow and a threat have been growing in my mind. Something draws near, I can feel it."

And then panic swept through him. Fear, terror and anticipation. They all went hand in hand. He was fighting, darting between Orcs, slashing them with his Elven Blades. Blood spilled forth onto his tunic but he paid no attention to it and he fought on. Gimli was near him, his friend's axe cleaving Orcs in two easily. And Aragorn. There was the ranger in front of him, the Flame of the West singing happily in his hands.

A sound came to him, the sound of Boromir's horn. Aragorn turned towards the sound, his mind distracted and he did not see his doom leering above him. But Legolas did. The Elf felt himself running, Aragorn's name on his lips.

And then pain overtook all other emotions. He vaguely heard his name from both the lips of Aragorn and Gimli as he felt himself sink to his knees.

Then rough hands seized him, pulling him to his feet, dragging him backward
away from the cries of his friends. The distraught sound of the fight growing more desperate filled his ears, Aragorn called to him frantically but he had not the strength to answer.

And then they were gone and he was alone in his fear and pain. Moving, forever moving, surrounded by darkness and the foulness of the Black Speech.


Legolas' eyes snapped open with a start, a gasp escaping his lips. Realization finally came to him, and he could see all that had happened. Saruman had tricked him from the start, forced to believe in something that was not true.

He had no idea as to how long he had been in his trance-like state, but he knew it was for the better half of the day or night, which ever it happened to be. Time seemed to travel slowly in this place, and he feared that maybe it truly did, that if he ever escaped, the world would be changed, that everything he held dear would be gone or destroyed. But he had his memory now and that was all that mattered for the time being.

A few things still remained a mystery, but the majority was solved and clear as day to the Elven archer. The arrow wound, the hazy darkness and the pain, and finally the feeling of invasion. The feeling that something was wrong in his mind, that something existed there that shouldn't have.

I failed them, not Boromir. He had not, and he knew it now.

Before he cold think on this further, the door of his small cell creaked open, revealing three Orcs. They moved into the room and without a single word, hoisted Legolas to his feet and lead him out of the cell.

******

The end of Saruman's staff collided with Legolas' face, snapping his head back. A large red mark started to form immediately on the prince's pale cheek, underneath his swollen eye. Legolas slowly moved his head so he could look directly into Saruman's face, his eyes holding the gaze of the wizard's. Pressing his lips together he waited, glaring the man down until he spat a mixture of saliva and blood into Saruman's face.

The wizard pulled back revolted, wiping the moisture from his face and slamming the staff into Legolas' stomach. The prince doubled over and crumpled to the floor, gasping for breath.

Saruman moved closer to the curled being that was lying on the floor. The prince looked nothing like an Elf anymore, much to the delight of the Orcs. His hair was roughly cut to above his shoulders and his face was swelled and bruised. His body lay broken and twisted, thickly coated in blood and his fine Elven clothes were ruined. But it was his eyes that they took pleasure in; they showed none of the light that they once had. They seemed almost constantly glazed over, clouded by darkness and pain, innocence lost in the shadows.

A smile played across Saruman's mouth as he looked down at his captive. It was laughable that this being was meant to be able to destroy him, to take away everything for which he had worked. This crumpled and wretched shadow of an elf was no match for him anymore. Yet the Elf still struggled as if he believed he could win this battle, as if he thought he would actually survive. Saruman had to give him credit for that, but it was the type of credit you would give to a fool, one that you only encouraged so you could destroy it further.

With this, the wizard saw the exposed bone of Legolas' side through torn flesh. With a slight laugh, he thrust his staff into the wound, hitting the revealed bone.

Legolas sucked air in hard, fighting the want and need to cry out in agony. Tears welled up in his eyes and he sank his teeth into his lip, drawing blood, in order to subside the screams that filled his head. Elbereth! "Elbereth ahreddath nin!" [Varda save me!] he gasped out to the amusement of the wizard above him. "Beria nin Elbereth, a heb nin band!" [Protect me Varda, and keep me safe.]

Saruman chuckled at the Elf's desperate pleas. "No one will help you, Elf. No one but me, and only if you tell me where the Ring is," he taunted.

"Aelis! Im ath aelis trenar le! [Never! I will never tell you!]

"Do not speak in that cured language again! Do you hear me?" Saruman roared at him.

"Car al trenar nin-" [Do not tell me--] he was silenced by the staff being struck into his stomach once again.

"Get him up!" Saruman yelled at the watching Orcs, who readily did what they were instructed. They hauled Legolas painfully to his feet and awaited their next instruction, which, with a wave of the wizard's hand, they
understood.

Legolas was dragged back to the rope that hung from the ceiling, his hands wrenched behind his back. They were tied together tightly and once again tied to the rope and hook. Horror was alive in his face and eyes and the Orcs laughed and sneered at its presence.

Saruman then instructed one of the Orcs to the reel and, with a gleeful smile he began to hoist the Elf into the air.

"I once asked you about Squassation Elf, now you shall have the pleasure of experiencing it first hand." He said slyly, "and do not be afraid to cry out. It *will* hurt!"

Legolas clenched his teeth together as he was raised into the air, the pain burned through his arms again. He felt his right shoulder start to give way, to come free of its socket, but he would not give them the satisfaction of his cries.

He was raised to the ceiling; his head resting next to the pulley. The pain was intense.

"How does that feel, my little prince?" Saruman questioned from the floor.

Legolas bit back the urge to reply, not wanting his voice to betray him.

"ANSWER ME!"

Yet, when no sound came from the elf's lips, Saruman motioned to the Orc at the reel. With a sick realization, Legolas worked out what this 'Squassation' was.

The Orc allowed the rope to pass through the reel, and Legolas felt himself falling. He saw the ground rush up to meet him and he pressed his eyes closed in fear. But what came next was worse than hitting the ground. He was stopped with a jerk; the slacking of the falling rope being pulled tight, which kept him from coming into contact with the ground. His arms shook terribly, and with a final bounce of the rope he felt them become dislocated.

The pain roared through his body and he unwillingly cried out in exquisite agony. His stomach retched violently yet it held no content to pass. As he hung there, still suspended off the ground he felt his limbs tearing evenmore and his world fade into darkness.

Saruman watched with great pleasure as the elf that was meant to be his downfall jolted to a stop, only feet away from the floor. His cries were like a song to his ears. He had not heard this fair voice call out in pain nearly as much as he would have liked. That was all going to change soon. He saw Legolas retching and his eyes danced with happiness, but it was soon subsided by the knowledge that the elf was growing unconscious.

With a movement of his hand, Legolas was pulled back up in to the air, rousing the Elf from his slip into dreams.

A groan escaped the prince's lips as he felt himself being lifted once again. Once he reached the top, he waited painfully for the drop, but it didn't come. He closed his eyes, holding back the tears that he could feel welling up and continued to bite into his lower lip.

Saruman reached into his robes and, while pulling out a small blade, walked forward towards the suspended Elf. He beckoned for him to be brought down to a more reasonable height and Legolas was slowly lowered to just above the wizard's head.

An Orc came and grabbed hold of Legolas' feet as Saruman approached. With a slight smile at the thought of the screams to come, the wizard flicked the twisted dagger over the Elf's left foot, dragging a scream of pain from Legolas' suspended form. Again and again he sliced into the soft flesh of the delicate foot, until it was completely lacerated with cuts and blood. The wizard then reached for a small jar that sat on the stone table off to the left and unscrewed the lid. Pulling the foot to a vertical position he placed the jar at the top on the ankle and tipped it upside down.

Slowly a thick black and burning liquid flowed from it, dripping onto the torn flesh of Legolas' foot. The oil seeped into the torn skin and Legolas withered in pain as it scorched all that came into contact with it.

Legolas felt the oil slip over his foot, it burned him right down to the bone and the more he struggled the more his arms tore and pulled. It was hopeless to fight it, and he only prayed that the darkness of his dreams would soon take hold of him.

His cries echoed around the room, filling the Orc's with a sick pleasure and a roar of excitement rose from their twisted mouths as Saruman roughly grabbed Legolas' other foot.

The Elf used this as an advantage, and before the Orc could grab hold of his burnt left foot he sent it sailing into Saruman's face, where it connected painfully. Legolas' heel had come directly in contact with Saruman's left eye.

He then felt himself dropped to the floor, hitting hard, and as unconsciousness took him over, a smile played at the corners of his lips. Saruman grabbed his face in a yell, the hot oil scorching his left eye. He desperately clawed at his face, his nails slicing through his own skin, trying the wipe away the oil. But it held and continued to burn, his eye closing up from the swelling. With a swirl of his cloak and a barked word at the Orcs, he exited the room in a flight of panic.

The Orcs roughly dragged Legolas down the hall by his cut off hair and threw him in his cell to await their Master's return.

******

The moon started to rise in the east as the sun slowly sank in the opposite side of the sky. The two figures had been traveling all day at a breaking pace, not wanting to abandon their friend any longer.

They stood side by side on a hill, looking at the horrid glory of Isengard beneath them. Both knew it would be hard to try to break in, but they knew that they must try. Orcs patrolled the grounds, ever watching for foes, and the Ent would prove no help as they had all been destroyed. It was with solemn hearts that they knew that they must first rest before attempting anything, as they would be no good to Legolas if they were exhausted.

"Well, how did I know I would find you two here?" came a voice behind them and they whirled around to face the stranger.

**********

Tbc…

*Laughs evilly until she chokes* Well, that was it and I hope you all liked it! The torture was really hard to write and almost made me want tot be sick, which is odd for me, but it was fun. The verse of Linkin Park kinda fits I think, and I was listening to their album when writing this…oh yeah, I don't own that or Lord of the Rings, but you all know that by now!

Only one or two more chapters to go, and then the sequel!!! Yay!

PLEASE REVIEW!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

Minka Greenleaf…The Original Sadistic Bitch!

Ps if you are in the mood for some more anguishy torture of Legolas check out my new (and completed) story The Call of Death must be Answered. ^_^ Please?