A/N; Okay, this is NO slash! Tindel and Legolas have grown up together!
Almost like brothers!
I fell sort of like a moron, don't eat me up alive because I admit it. But when I bought the World of the Ring (Appendixes of the Lord of the Rings) I realized that the renaming of Mirkwood happened in the same time as the RoTK and that the fall of Dol Guldor happened only a few decades earlier. *flushes* As said I'm a moron.
Well Since I started this in ignorance of real history it will continue in faked ignorance. (
This is a continuation of 1: The Sweetest Thing 2: The Unforgiven, (this story's' first chapter sort of.)
(Ps. If you don't like heroic horses, flame me! I can use them for torture of friend()
// "Legolas, wake up!" Tindel said, as he started to pull at his friends braid.
"Get out! It's long 'til dawn!" Legolas muttered as he pushed Tindel away and rolled over.
"Don't you remember what we are supposed to do today?!" Tindel continued as he went on and tugged at his friends golden hair.
"Leave me be!"
"We're going hunting!" Tindel whispered. It got the attention he had wished as Legolas nearly jumped up from his bed.
"I had forgotten." Legolas said with lopsided smile, as he let his hair out and swiftly rebraided it. "Do you think we'll get anything?"
"With an archer like you? Of course not!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Tindel!" the sudden scream made Tindel react at the last second as a warg nearly snapped at his throat, making Tindel crash into the ground. The warg attacked again and its' teeth tore through his leather braces into his flesh. He thrust his knife between the monsters ribs into its lungs, and then he got onto his feet.
"Legolas!!!" he screamed as he saw his friend fall to his knees as Pilindë smiling cut his throat.
\\
Tindel woke up with a jolt, his teeth were clattering and he was shivering of cold, a very unfamiliar feeling for an elf. It had been a nightmare! It had to be! Legolas was alive.
He had promised himself not to stop but he couldn't remember stopping though. His head was pounding as he staggered once again to his feet, morning had nearly broken; he needed water. Sometime during the night he had dressed his wounds, but they had bleed trough, and a throbbing had replaced the pain. He had gotten lost and he was now going back the same way.
He wished for his friend to be safe, but he knew deep inside that Legolas could be nothing else than danger. But maybe Rúmil and Eyla had found him.
§~§
"I'll tell you everything." Pilindë repeated, as she motioned for an orc to grab Legolas. "And for every wrong your father has done me you will suffer."
Legolas started to resist the orcs' grabbing, and as he started to trash out and fighting the way Eledhin and Eyla so painstakingly had taught him, he got loose and he even got himself a weapon, a orcish scimitar, a weapon that he was unaccustomed to.
"Pilindë, let me go," Legolas pleaded as he limped backwards, the orcs closing in on him, he was scared but yet he found himself very calm. "You can go back with me, it will be all right. I promise," Legolas continued; he couldn't stand the thought of Pilindë being this evil creature in front of him.
She smiled and shook her head.
"A promise from the house of Thranduíl is as opt death. I learned that lesson already. You won't escape, Legolas, just accept."
"Accept what?! Death? Or to be tortured?" Legolas said his voice sinking a few notches, he knew now where he was; the ruins of Dol Guldor.
"Well, there's no where or way to escape Dol Guldor! I could leave you to them," she shouted and waved at the orcs. "They would love your flesh! And their ways of torture are better than mine!"
Legolas leaned against the wall, the surge of adrenaline was subsiding and his wound had reopened. He knew now for certain that he wouldn't be able to escape, or even survive.
"I will not surrender my weapon!"
"Then you give me no other choice, but the merrier it will be. Catch him, you don't need to be so careful, just alive," she ordered.
Legolas defended himself but the orcs swatted his scimitar away and they started kicking and beating him. He could hear and feel how a rib cracked and broke beneath a vicious blow, and when an as strong blow connected with his chest bone he lost consciousness.
¤~¤
Rúmil and Eyla saw the approaching riders, recognizing the king as one of them and the Noldorian Eledhin as another.
"Rúmil? What's happened?" Thranduíl said as he slid of his horse. "Is Legolas.?"
"They were scouting along side Feruín, and they were attacked, Feruín is dead, Tindel and Le'olas are missing. Le'olas, by what we can see was wounded. Tindel seems to have been forced to abandoning Le'olas, his tracks leads against the southern parts. And. there has been a third elf at the scene, one that didn't exactly help."
"Can you see whose?" Eledhin asked his expressions grim.
"No, a she-elf," Rúmil said and he didn't missed the glimpse between his brother-in-law and the former Imladris-captain. "You know who it is?" he asked.
"I believe so," Thranduíl said slowly. "An elf that has few scruples. An elf that has nothing to loose."
"Who?"
"A traitor whose name should have been removed from all knowledge," Eledhin said sharply, his dark eyes locked with Rúmils blue.
"I will not ask again, Eledhin! Who?!"
"You know, or rather said knew, her. With almost all sureness it's Pilindë, she has one to many grudge mostly towards me," Thranduíl answered as he gripped his sons white dagger, feeling the beautiful blade.
"Pilindë? I thought that she died," Eyla said looking at her king.
"You could say that she did, this died in her," Eledhin said as he tapped at his heart. "But mostly it was her deranged mother to blame for that."
"Lady Ithíren? She was gripped by the shadow after Erephers death, right?" Rúmil asked as he remembered the dark eyed beautiful lady; her beauty had disappeared with her sense.
"She was pregnant and therefore she stayed here in Mirkwood, she gave birth to a baby girl. And as you know Erepher was the oldest of us, but when my father disobeyed the high king's order and attacked both perished, I tried to reach them in time, but I didn't."
"You are not to blame for their deaths, Thran," Rúmil said, "I remember this, they where far too hasty."
~¨~
"So you decided to stay with us?" someone said as Legolas repressed a pained groan as someone touched his broken ribs, which felt like they were on fire. His throat felt very raw and he had a bitter taste in his mouth, he shook his head as if he tried to shake the strange sensation of dizziness.
"What did you. did you do to me?" he more or less whispered as he started to shake uncontrollably, everything hurt, he felt like someone had reopened the wound in his side and strew salt in it.
"The orcs have a potion, rather said poison, that makes elves scream and writhe in pain, and every little touch feels like a whip and every whip feels like a knife have cut into you. Old wounds," she said and pressed his ribs again, smiling sadly as Legolas screamed. ".Feels like they were on fire. The potion never allows a victim to fall unconscious and they very seldom die, just pain."
Legolas screamed again in pain as orcs pulled at his chained arms. He stood, but the orcs still pulled the chains and his feet could barely reach the ground, he stood on the tip of his toes, still shaking of pain. He looked up at the clouded skies and he prayed to Ilúvatar for grace, to make the pain go away.
"There are so many ways to inflict pain on others, some are better than others. You will live, as proof of what your fathers' treachery did to my father. But I'll see that you never draw another arrow," Pilindë said as she let her fingers run down his cheekbone. He tried to pull his head away as it was both painful and humiliating. She grabbed a hold of his hair and jerked his head forward. "I am in control."
'~'
Tindel had been running for the most part of the day, his vision was somewhat clearer now after he had drunk some water and eaten a few sweet berries. He knew that he wasn't to far from other elves know, he had seen horse tracks and he also recognized the path he had taken from the drops of his own blood. He heard a horse coming trotting his direction and he was well known with the somewhat irregular beat; it was Thread, his fathers brown old mare, the rein less animal didn't seem to have been ridden but he knew that his father would have used some other horse.
"Thread? Come girl!" Tindel called out relieved to see the mare seeking his empty hand. "I'm sorry, love, I don't have anything for you," he said as the horse nudged his hurting left arm. He placed his good hand on her back and got up, he steadied himself and pressed his calves and the old mare started to move in the same direction as she came from. Tindel knew that she would get him to his father; he leaned forward until he rested his head against Threads neck, he only had to rest a little while.
Eledhin saw how his horse startled, and the dark stallion snorted in the air.
"Someone is nearing!" Glinn whispered as he pulled an arrow.
"It's a horse, silly," Fenith said as she heard the steady thumps against the forest floor. "A horse with a rider."
"Tindel!" Eledhin gasped as he saw his son lying over the horses' back, her light brown coat colored dark where his blood had trailed down. Thread stopped as Fenith got near, she whinnied silently. Eledhin didn't know how he got to the horse but he was there and as he fearing touched his sons' neck. It was warm, and he felt the beat of his heart. "He's alive!" he said relieved as he carefully pulled his son into his arms, felling him stir. "Shh, you are safe." Glinn pulled his dark ranger cloak off and placed it on the ground, and then he helped Eledhin to place the shivering elf down.
"Ada?" Tindel said weakly his open eyes seemed to be unable to see him. "Legolas!"
"We know," Thranduíl said as he opened his satchel. "Pilindë took him. You are not to blame," he said as he started to examine the youngsters' injuries; he had taken an arrow to his arm and the same seemed to have been broken. He had an uneven cut along the side of his head; the king carefully let his fingers trail against the bruise around it.
"Tindel, you must drink this," Thranduíl said as he tilted a blue vial against the boys' lips.
Eledhin was holding his sons shivering body as the king poured over the still bleeding wounds, Tindel pressed his head back into his fathers shoulder as the pain increased and he cried out as Thranduíl cleaned the deepest cuts.
"Shh, it will pass," Eledhin said whispered as he carefully stroked his sons brushed face, looking into the green eyes, a faint reassuring smile touching his face. Tindel passed into blissful painless sleep of the calming words, and by the drug Thranduíl had given him.
"We'll have to take him back to the city," Fenith said as she stood a few meters behind the king. "I will ride," she continued as Glinn glanced over at her, his dark eyes meeting hers light blue.
"Take my horse, he's saddled. Ithile, Merion, go with them." Thranduíl said as he braced Tindels' arm with splinters. He helped Eledhin to lift the sleeping boy and they settled him in front of Fenith.
Eledhin looked after the disappearing riders, his thoughts still on his son, his eyes clouded with fear; during the battles which seemed only like yesterday, he had sent his family to the forestpeoples villages. His children had been safe, his wife Elva, had been by his side, but now she and the twins was in Lothlórien.
"He will be fine," Thranduíl said as he took the apple that Eyla offered him. She knew that healing was tiring, especially for one as untrained as the king. Rúmil was close by, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other; worry was winded into his fair figure.
Eledhin looked at his friends face, they had been friends since the battles at Mount Doom, and he had been councilor since he had moved to Mirkwood.
"I fear for him," Thranduíl whispered, his blue eyes filled with tears. "He is more important to me than all of Middle Earth. And I only fail him."
TBC.
Suffering badly from writers block. HELP!!!
I fell sort of like a moron, don't eat me up alive because I admit it. But when I bought the World of the Ring (Appendixes of the Lord of the Rings) I realized that the renaming of Mirkwood happened in the same time as the RoTK and that the fall of Dol Guldor happened only a few decades earlier. *flushes* As said I'm a moron.
Well Since I started this in ignorance of real history it will continue in faked ignorance. (
This is a continuation of 1: The Sweetest Thing 2: The Unforgiven, (this story's' first chapter sort of.)
(Ps. If you don't like heroic horses, flame me! I can use them for torture of friend()
// "Legolas, wake up!" Tindel said, as he started to pull at his friends braid.
"Get out! It's long 'til dawn!" Legolas muttered as he pushed Tindel away and rolled over.
"Don't you remember what we are supposed to do today?!" Tindel continued as he went on and tugged at his friends golden hair.
"Leave me be!"
"We're going hunting!" Tindel whispered. It got the attention he had wished as Legolas nearly jumped up from his bed.
"I had forgotten." Legolas said with lopsided smile, as he let his hair out and swiftly rebraided it. "Do you think we'll get anything?"
"With an archer like you? Of course not!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Tindel!" the sudden scream made Tindel react at the last second as a warg nearly snapped at his throat, making Tindel crash into the ground. The warg attacked again and its' teeth tore through his leather braces into his flesh. He thrust his knife between the monsters ribs into its lungs, and then he got onto his feet.
"Legolas!!!" he screamed as he saw his friend fall to his knees as Pilindë smiling cut his throat.
\\
Tindel woke up with a jolt, his teeth were clattering and he was shivering of cold, a very unfamiliar feeling for an elf. It had been a nightmare! It had to be! Legolas was alive.
He had promised himself not to stop but he couldn't remember stopping though. His head was pounding as he staggered once again to his feet, morning had nearly broken; he needed water. Sometime during the night he had dressed his wounds, but they had bleed trough, and a throbbing had replaced the pain. He had gotten lost and he was now going back the same way.
He wished for his friend to be safe, but he knew deep inside that Legolas could be nothing else than danger. But maybe Rúmil and Eyla had found him.
§~§
"I'll tell you everything." Pilindë repeated, as she motioned for an orc to grab Legolas. "And for every wrong your father has done me you will suffer."
Legolas started to resist the orcs' grabbing, and as he started to trash out and fighting the way Eledhin and Eyla so painstakingly had taught him, he got loose and he even got himself a weapon, a orcish scimitar, a weapon that he was unaccustomed to.
"Pilindë, let me go," Legolas pleaded as he limped backwards, the orcs closing in on him, he was scared but yet he found himself very calm. "You can go back with me, it will be all right. I promise," Legolas continued; he couldn't stand the thought of Pilindë being this evil creature in front of him.
She smiled and shook her head.
"A promise from the house of Thranduíl is as opt death. I learned that lesson already. You won't escape, Legolas, just accept."
"Accept what?! Death? Or to be tortured?" Legolas said his voice sinking a few notches, he knew now where he was; the ruins of Dol Guldor.
"Well, there's no where or way to escape Dol Guldor! I could leave you to them," she shouted and waved at the orcs. "They would love your flesh! And their ways of torture are better than mine!"
Legolas leaned against the wall, the surge of adrenaline was subsiding and his wound had reopened. He knew now for certain that he wouldn't be able to escape, or even survive.
"I will not surrender my weapon!"
"Then you give me no other choice, but the merrier it will be. Catch him, you don't need to be so careful, just alive," she ordered.
Legolas defended himself but the orcs swatted his scimitar away and they started kicking and beating him. He could hear and feel how a rib cracked and broke beneath a vicious blow, and when an as strong blow connected with his chest bone he lost consciousness.
¤~¤
Rúmil and Eyla saw the approaching riders, recognizing the king as one of them and the Noldorian Eledhin as another.
"Rúmil? What's happened?" Thranduíl said as he slid of his horse. "Is Legolas.?"
"They were scouting along side Feruín, and they were attacked, Feruín is dead, Tindel and Le'olas are missing. Le'olas, by what we can see was wounded. Tindel seems to have been forced to abandoning Le'olas, his tracks leads against the southern parts. And. there has been a third elf at the scene, one that didn't exactly help."
"Can you see whose?" Eledhin asked his expressions grim.
"No, a she-elf," Rúmil said and he didn't missed the glimpse between his brother-in-law and the former Imladris-captain. "You know who it is?" he asked.
"I believe so," Thranduíl said slowly. "An elf that has few scruples. An elf that has nothing to loose."
"Who?"
"A traitor whose name should have been removed from all knowledge," Eledhin said sharply, his dark eyes locked with Rúmils blue.
"I will not ask again, Eledhin! Who?!"
"You know, or rather said knew, her. With almost all sureness it's Pilindë, she has one to many grudge mostly towards me," Thranduíl answered as he gripped his sons white dagger, feeling the beautiful blade.
"Pilindë? I thought that she died," Eyla said looking at her king.
"You could say that she did, this died in her," Eledhin said as he tapped at his heart. "But mostly it was her deranged mother to blame for that."
"Lady Ithíren? She was gripped by the shadow after Erephers death, right?" Rúmil asked as he remembered the dark eyed beautiful lady; her beauty had disappeared with her sense.
"She was pregnant and therefore she stayed here in Mirkwood, she gave birth to a baby girl. And as you know Erepher was the oldest of us, but when my father disobeyed the high king's order and attacked both perished, I tried to reach them in time, but I didn't."
"You are not to blame for their deaths, Thran," Rúmil said, "I remember this, they where far too hasty."
~¨~
"So you decided to stay with us?" someone said as Legolas repressed a pained groan as someone touched his broken ribs, which felt like they were on fire. His throat felt very raw and he had a bitter taste in his mouth, he shook his head as if he tried to shake the strange sensation of dizziness.
"What did you. did you do to me?" he more or less whispered as he started to shake uncontrollably, everything hurt, he felt like someone had reopened the wound in his side and strew salt in it.
"The orcs have a potion, rather said poison, that makes elves scream and writhe in pain, and every little touch feels like a whip and every whip feels like a knife have cut into you. Old wounds," she said and pressed his ribs again, smiling sadly as Legolas screamed. ".Feels like they were on fire. The potion never allows a victim to fall unconscious and they very seldom die, just pain."
Legolas screamed again in pain as orcs pulled at his chained arms. He stood, but the orcs still pulled the chains and his feet could barely reach the ground, he stood on the tip of his toes, still shaking of pain. He looked up at the clouded skies and he prayed to Ilúvatar for grace, to make the pain go away.
"There are so many ways to inflict pain on others, some are better than others. You will live, as proof of what your fathers' treachery did to my father. But I'll see that you never draw another arrow," Pilindë said as she let her fingers run down his cheekbone. He tried to pull his head away as it was both painful and humiliating. She grabbed a hold of his hair and jerked his head forward. "I am in control."
'~'
Tindel had been running for the most part of the day, his vision was somewhat clearer now after he had drunk some water and eaten a few sweet berries. He knew that he wasn't to far from other elves know, he had seen horse tracks and he also recognized the path he had taken from the drops of his own blood. He heard a horse coming trotting his direction and he was well known with the somewhat irregular beat; it was Thread, his fathers brown old mare, the rein less animal didn't seem to have been ridden but he knew that his father would have used some other horse.
"Thread? Come girl!" Tindel called out relieved to see the mare seeking his empty hand. "I'm sorry, love, I don't have anything for you," he said as the horse nudged his hurting left arm. He placed his good hand on her back and got up, he steadied himself and pressed his calves and the old mare started to move in the same direction as she came from. Tindel knew that she would get him to his father; he leaned forward until he rested his head against Threads neck, he only had to rest a little while.
Eledhin saw how his horse startled, and the dark stallion snorted in the air.
"Someone is nearing!" Glinn whispered as he pulled an arrow.
"It's a horse, silly," Fenith said as she heard the steady thumps against the forest floor. "A horse with a rider."
"Tindel!" Eledhin gasped as he saw his son lying over the horses' back, her light brown coat colored dark where his blood had trailed down. Thread stopped as Fenith got near, she whinnied silently. Eledhin didn't know how he got to the horse but he was there and as he fearing touched his sons' neck. It was warm, and he felt the beat of his heart. "He's alive!" he said relieved as he carefully pulled his son into his arms, felling him stir. "Shh, you are safe." Glinn pulled his dark ranger cloak off and placed it on the ground, and then he helped Eledhin to place the shivering elf down.
"Ada?" Tindel said weakly his open eyes seemed to be unable to see him. "Legolas!"
"We know," Thranduíl said as he opened his satchel. "Pilindë took him. You are not to blame," he said as he started to examine the youngsters' injuries; he had taken an arrow to his arm and the same seemed to have been broken. He had an uneven cut along the side of his head; the king carefully let his fingers trail against the bruise around it.
"Tindel, you must drink this," Thranduíl said as he tilted a blue vial against the boys' lips.
Eledhin was holding his sons shivering body as the king poured over the still bleeding wounds, Tindel pressed his head back into his fathers shoulder as the pain increased and he cried out as Thranduíl cleaned the deepest cuts.
"Shh, it will pass," Eledhin said whispered as he carefully stroked his sons brushed face, looking into the green eyes, a faint reassuring smile touching his face. Tindel passed into blissful painless sleep of the calming words, and by the drug Thranduíl had given him.
"We'll have to take him back to the city," Fenith said as she stood a few meters behind the king. "I will ride," she continued as Glinn glanced over at her, his dark eyes meeting hers light blue.
"Take my horse, he's saddled. Ithile, Merion, go with them." Thranduíl said as he braced Tindels' arm with splinters. He helped Eledhin to lift the sleeping boy and they settled him in front of Fenith.
Eledhin looked after the disappearing riders, his thoughts still on his son, his eyes clouded with fear; during the battles which seemed only like yesterday, he had sent his family to the forestpeoples villages. His children had been safe, his wife Elva, had been by his side, but now she and the twins was in Lothlórien.
"He will be fine," Thranduíl said as he took the apple that Eyla offered him. She knew that healing was tiring, especially for one as untrained as the king. Rúmil was close by, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other; worry was winded into his fair figure.
Eledhin looked at his friends face, they had been friends since the battles at Mount Doom, and he had been councilor since he had moved to Mirkwood.
"I fear for him," Thranduíl whispered, his blue eyes filled with tears. "He is more important to me than all of Middle Earth. And I only fail him."
TBC.
Suffering badly from writers block. HELP!!!