Ha! Ha! I know you hate that one cliffie. Ok, ok, I'll make it up to you! Here's the rest. Not a conclusion, though. There'll be more…
P/s : F1 is returning this weekend! Anyone here is F1 junkie just like me? My favorite driver is Kimi Raikkonen and Juan Pablo Montoya. I hope they grab the podium!
"What do you want, Darco, bringing all these men? Feeling so insecure walking through the forest you have to bring some bodyguards along?" Hasmon stood tall in front of the door to his cottage, guarding it.
Darco smirked as he dismounted. "You know what we come here for, Hasmon. Show him to us!"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh, I think you do. The elf, Hasmon. Call him out or we will break into your home and get him ourselves!"
"You will do no such thing! Not without running through me first!" Hasmon felt a alarm to hear the reason for them coming here. How did they know about Legolas? "Leave him alone, Darco! He has done nothing to you!"
"That's where you're wrong. That elf is a murderer! He had killed Brutus, Bregus's brother! And for that, he must be punished!"
Legolas was stunned. A murderer? I am a murderer? Have I really killed a man? He stared at his hands; the fingers long tapered and elegantly shaped. These are the hands of a murderer?
He looked up in dismay when Darco and his men started to pounce on Hasmon, forcing their way inside the cottage. Hasmon swung his fists at the men, trying with all his might to keep them at bay. Gertha cried out in terror as she saw her husband fell by a hard knock to the head. She rushed to him and cradled the unconscious Hasmon in her lap, sobbing earnestly. "Please, don't do this! Leave him alone! Leave us, please!"
Legolas grabbed the nearest weapon he could find; the iron poker leaning against the fireplace. Brandishing it like a sword, he swung it skillfully, hitting the intruders with all the intention to defend himself. But the men were too many for a still recuperating lone elf. He was still weak by his ordeal in the river. The men viciously attacked him with their own clubs and fists; very determine to overpower this warrior-like being.
Legolas was knocked down by a smashing glass to his temple. They had hit him with one of Gertha's empty bottles. He crumpled in a heap to the floor; the energy suddenly went out of him in one single rush. He felt them tying up his hands in front of him before he was jerked to his feet.
The men dragged him outside, roughly jerking on the rope binding his hands. As he stumbled pass Gertha and her husband, she was looking up at him in horror. "Where are you taking him? Please don't harm him! Legolas! Legolas!"
Legolas looked back at the woman, helplessness wrenching his gut. Even though half blinded by the blood flowing down from the big gash on his temple, he could see with dread the unconscious form of Hasmon in Gertha's arms. He hoped that the kind man was not terribly hurt.
He stood in silence as the long leash of his bonds was fastened to the horn of Darco's saddle. The elf knew what would be coming next; the men were going to force him to jog on his own feet, all the way to the village. He wasn't even wearing a shoe. Still, he would not let these men knew of his mounting fear. He held his head high, jutting his stubborn chin out, and flashing his stormy silver eyes towards Darco.
Darco was extremely uneasy by the elf's steely glare. Turning his back on Legolas, he mounted and gave the signal to return to the village. His fellow men followed, laughing and jeering at the elf's difficult plight to keep up with the much faster horses.
Gertha's sobbing cries could still be heard, mingling with the sorrowful whispers of the trees swaying in the wind…
**************
Thranduil stepped into his youngest child's chamber. Legolas had been missing for three days now. The king couldn't help feeling a wild longing to see the prince once again, healthy and whole. His heart can't stop beating fast in anxiety. He knew something had gone very wrong. And he cursed himself for being unable to do anything about it except to pray and wait for Legolas to return home.
Sitting on the edge of his son's bed, he picked up one the pillows and hugged it to his chest, inhaling Legolas's fine scent that still clung to it. Come home, my son. Come home…
**************
Legolas slumped to his knees in total exhaustion in the middle of the village courtyard. His feet all bloodied; his knees do not fare any better after he'd repeatedly stumbled onto them. His tied wrists were bleeding profusely, getting numb and stiff at the same time by the great pressure. His arms felt like they had been pulled out of their sockets, which was excruciatingly painful. The men had cruelly dragged him from Hasmon's cottage at fast pace. He managed to keep up with them at first, his elven stamina keeping him upright during the swift jog.
But after a league, his legs started to weaken, and black spots appeared in front of his vision. He'd fallen hard onto his chest at one point, but the men were enjoying it so much they kept on dragging him without slowing down. Only Legolas's tremendous will power gave him the supernatural effort to get back on his feet and resumed the agonizing journey.
Kneeling on the ground, Legolas looked around him anxiously. The riders had dismounted and were now circling around him, barring any way of escape. Meanwhile, the villagers were staring at the elf in fascination and awe, murmuring among themselves.
"An elf in our village! What is he doing here?"
"They said he's the one that killed Brutus."
"Poor creature!"
"Poor creature? Poor us! If they set him free, he's going to kill us all!"
"What is Bregus going to do to him?"
"I think we are about to find out. Here's Bregus."
The chief of the village came out of his dwelling, swaggering arrogantly. He stared down his nose at the elf, his face breaking into a sneer. "Killer elf!" he spat. "One that we do not need right now. You are as annoying as the murdering beast. Bring him inside! I want to interrogate him first…and have some fun of my own." Bregus turned back towards his big house, expecting his men to follow his orders.
They grabbed Legolas's arms, jerking him to his feet, dragging him after Bregus. Once inside, Legolas was forced to his knees again right in front of the chief. Bregus walked closer, glowering at the ever-youthful elf. Without warning, he swung his fist and hit Legolas on his left cheek. Legolas's head snapped to the side. Blood came pouring out of his split lips. The prince slowly turned his face forward and stared fully at Bregus.
"That's for killing my brother!"
"I could not remember doing it," Legolas said, his own mind trying hard to gather any memory of doing so. He recalled being confronted by huntsmen in the woods, but no more. What happened next was a total blank to him.
"Don't lie to me!" Bregus yelled, crouched down and grabbed Legolas's chin in his hand, forcing the elf to look straight into his red-rimmed eyes. "Tell to my face how you killed my brother!"
"I…do not…remember!" Legolas cried out.
"Argh!!!" Bregus hastily straightened up and started to swing his leg, kicking Legolas again and again in the abdomen. Legolas tried to block the kicks with his bound hands, but when more kept coming, he could only curled himself into a ball and whimpered in agony.
Through his bleary eyes, Legolas saw Bregus taking off the silver-buckled belt from around his waist. "You are going to admit to your crime, elf! You are not going to get away from this! You are going to pay!"
"I'm sorry if I really did kill your brother. But I can not remember…"
"You're sorry? Sorry alone would not bring my brother back! Like I said, you are going to pay…" Bregus swung the belt then, whipping at Legolas's back, with the buckle as the tip. If Legolas had the energy to scream, he would. The pain was so excruciating he thought he would die. Strangely though, a long past memory of another whipping burst through his mind. He suddenly saw himself tied up in chains to the ceiling in a dark dungeon. He also saw a face of a very beautiful lady, but it was a face that he knew he hated. Then he saw absolute darkness.
Unknown to him, before he passed out, a word had escaped his lips. "Kel…"
*************
"Kel…"
Keldarion sat up straighter on his mount. Did I just hear that? Where did that come from? He whipped his head about, searching for any signs, straining his ears to hear more, but the sound did not come again.
"Your highness? What is it?" Linden asked when he saw the prince becoming quite agitated.
Keldarion slowly shook his head. "I do not know, Linden. Maybe nothing. But I swear I heard Legolas's voice just now."
Linden nodded, understanding the close bonds that the two brothers had. "Maybe we are in the right path after all. We could be getting closer to him."
"I hope you're right. Let's move on."
*************
Meanwhile, a great white tiger was fast approaching the village of men…
TBC…
Was that good, or was that a terrible cliffie like the previous one? Tell me guys!
