Disclaimer: Yes, yes, I don't own any that Tolkien does. I only use his
characters for lack of creativity.
Author's Note: Many thanks to those who pointed out the formatting disaster, ff.net truly hates me and does all that is possible to destroy me, but I will prevail! That said, love all your kind reviews and please continue, it makes me write faster!
Legolas awoke in a different environment. He was laying down, on what appeared to be a bed, but that could not be. He looked about him, he was indeed no longer in the stone room. A four-postered bed rose up around him and windows let in the light provided from a full moon outside. A glance at himself showed different clothing. The dirty and bloodstained clothing was gone, replaced by a silver and gold outfit of a tunic and leggings. His skin was clean and no blood was to be found.
Had it all been a dream then? Legolas groaned and moved to turn to his side, but was stopped. He was lashed down in the bed, he could not move. And the attempts at movement brought back the now-familiar flare of pain from too many wounds over a short time period. So it had not been a dream.
The elf ceased trying to struggle and wondered at what would transpire next. These beings he was dealing with were unpredictable. Why they would torture him only to place him in a guest room were beyond Legolas.
While he was on the matter, Legolas tried to once again identify what was holding him. They were obviously not human, as their strength and reflexes matched his own. But did that then mean they were elven? The thought was disquieting. If elves truly were responsible for this, then something was desperately wrong in Middle-earth. Elves never acted this way, especially with other elves. If not elves, then what? What else could possibly have enough strength to be doing this to him?
And they knew he was a prince, this fact was not wasted on Legolas. The she-devil had even called him a prince. Another factor leading to elves. No other race would care what he was, or even know who he was. Disturbing revelations.
Legolas was not to be left alone with his thoughts. The door to his room opened and a figure came in. Legolas was severely beginning to tire of the cloaks hiding his enemies.
The elf lay mutely as the figure came to the bed and undid the lashings. When Legolas was free he stepped back. "Get up," the figure commanded. It was not the female, and Legolas found that he had thought it would be.
Slowly, and still painfully, Legolas pulled himself up, then carefully out of the bed. He was clean and dressed in fresh clothing, but he still felt sick to his stomach with the harsh treatment he had been suffering. In a haze, Legolas was marched out of the room, the figure at his back. Obviously, the same mistake was not to be repeated, even though Legolas was much too tired to try anything like that again. He knew the fight with the female had cost him much. The dagger in the back had nearly ended his life.
Blindly, Legolas staggered on, the figure giving short directions at his back. If Legolas failed to comply with the directions immediately, he was swiftly and harshly nudged in the correct direction. When they finally reached their destination, Legolas was on the verge of collapse.
"Wait here," the figure ordered gruffly, shoving past the elf and stepping up to a large wooden door in front of them. The figure paused right before he opened it, "And I mean what I say, if you are not here on my return, we will find you, and the consequences will not be pleasant. You cannot run from us in this castle." Then he was gone through the door.
It is not likely I would even try, Legolas thought dimly to himself as he leaned heavily against a wall. He was in absolutely no condition to try another run for hope. He could barely stand as he was.
The figure came back, and Legolas looked at him through bloodshot eyes. He was grabbed roughly by an arm and pushed through the door. "Act like a Prince and walk on your own," the figure hissed at his back.
With as much pride as he could muster, the elf walked slowly into the room. His mind seemed to be working slowly as he took in his surroundings. He had been expecting another type of dungeon or a large council room at the least. Instead, he was walking into a very vast dining hall. The bulk of it was dominated by a huge table, at which every seat was filled. The scent of food was heavy in the air, and Legolas realized he was very hungry. He had not eaten anything since being captured.
After he assessed the surroundings, Legolas' gaze lowered to the occupants of the table. With a start, the elf realized that they were no longer wearing the long cloaks with hoods. He could now see features of his captors.
And they were elves.
With dismay, Legolas took in the fair faces, pointed ears, and other signs to verify that they were elves. There was one difference though. All eyes were on him, and all eyes held a hostile look that was foreign to Legolas. He had never been the object of such open disgust. A few of the elves looked like they would even want to kill Legolas right then. Legolas only tried to walk straighter and appear as though he was unaffected by the hostility, when in actuality it made his very soul sick.
Legolas was still walking, the figure still directing him on at his back. He was almost to the head of the table, and Legolas finally realized what would take place. He was going to be presented to the lord of this place, and perhaps a judgement would occur. Legolas braced himself for the encounter, he would not be made to look foolish and weak in front of the strange elves.
They reached the head of the table, and Legolas was stopped. "My lord," stated the figure behind him, "I present to you Legolas, son of Thranduil and prince of Mirkwood."
The head elf turned to fully regard them, and Legolas looked as steadily as was possible back at him. The elf rose solemnly and Legolas noted the features of him. His hair was as dark as night and his eyes were like two lightless pits. His clothing was dark as well, and he seemed to be a parody of Legolas' own light clothing and light features. Legolas had the sudden impression that he was representing day and the strange elf was representing the night.
The elf smiled thinly. "I am of course aware of who and what you are," he informed Legolas. Legolas was not sure how to react to that, so he only held his head higher and locked his blue eyes on the black ones.
"It is always customary that one would introduce himself to another who knows naught of him." Legolas chose his words carefully, striving to sound proud and fearless and as though the recent harsh treatment had been nothing to him, like a good prince.
"Custom has no meaning here," the strange elf replied, "especially customs of yours. Do not expect the comforts of your home. However, we will reign civil for the moment and invite you to dine with us, great Prince of Mirkwood."
Legolas was definitely thrown off stride now. He had no regal reply, as this was the last thing expected from this confrontation. The contempt in the strange elf's voice could not be missed, but his words certainly held no threat. What was he to do?
Of course, there was only one thing to do, Legolas allowed himself to be seated. He fairly collapsed in the chair, grace was momentarily a thing of the past to his injured body. He took an empty seat that was at the left-hand of the elven-lord. Once Legolas was seated, food and drink was immediately placed before him. Suspicion was very high. Legolas looked at the food warily, wondering if perhaps poison would be their method. As he debated over the quality of the food, Legolas raised his eyes and his glance fell on the elf seated across the table from him, at the lord's right-hand.
It was an elf-maiden. And the hostility in her eyes surpassed them all. Her appearance matched that of the dark lord's, in fact, Legolas realized that all the elves in the hall had dark hair and dark eyes. But the elf-maiden seated across from him matched the elf-lord perfectly, the darkness of them matching the abyss.
And the elf-maiden sat with her right-arm hung limply in her lap. Legolas glanced at her shoulder, and could barely make out minute drops of blood on her dark clothing. Blood from a deep wound hastily cleaned and not properly dressed. The elf-maiden was his own personal tormentor.
The other elves had already forgotten about the visiting prince, as he was of no importance to them, and had settled back to eating. The elf- maiden was another story. Her black eyes remained fixed on Legolas, even when he dropped his own and slowly began to eat. The disgust on her face was fixed. She did not touch any more of her food.
When Legolas was halfway through with his meal, which he had to admit was pretty good, the dark elf-lord rose. All other elves immediately rose and Legolas was jabbed harshly in the back when he did not rise. Slowly, Legolas stood.
Without a word, the elf-lord turned and walked solemnly out of the room. Several elves, including the maiden, followed him out. When he was out of sight, the rest of the elves began to file out of the room.
Legolas had a moment's hope that he had been forgotten when the guard who had escorted him into the room appeared at his side. He still had his cloak and hood on. He grabbed Legolas' arm, but Legolas jerked it out of his grasp and stood aside. He only looked at the guard, his intention clear. He could follow without being led like a child. The guard muttered something under his breath and turned to walk. He glanced back often, but Legolas was always quietly behind him.
Legolas was led back into the room he had woken up in. He stepped inside of it and the door was slammed behind him and he heard the turn of a key in the lock. No matter to him, as long as he was alone for a few hours and allowed to rest. Wearily, Legolas made his way to the bed and fell into it. He was asleep almost immediately, his eyes tightly closed, as this was an occasion meant for total rest in hopes he would be strong enough to face his tormentors tomorrow.
Author's Note: Many thanks to those who pointed out the formatting disaster, ff.net truly hates me and does all that is possible to destroy me, but I will prevail! That said, love all your kind reviews and please continue, it makes me write faster!
Legolas awoke in a different environment. He was laying down, on what appeared to be a bed, but that could not be. He looked about him, he was indeed no longer in the stone room. A four-postered bed rose up around him and windows let in the light provided from a full moon outside. A glance at himself showed different clothing. The dirty and bloodstained clothing was gone, replaced by a silver and gold outfit of a tunic and leggings. His skin was clean and no blood was to be found.
Had it all been a dream then? Legolas groaned and moved to turn to his side, but was stopped. He was lashed down in the bed, he could not move. And the attempts at movement brought back the now-familiar flare of pain from too many wounds over a short time period. So it had not been a dream.
The elf ceased trying to struggle and wondered at what would transpire next. These beings he was dealing with were unpredictable. Why they would torture him only to place him in a guest room were beyond Legolas.
While he was on the matter, Legolas tried to once again identify what was holding him. They were obviously not human, as their strength and reflexes matched his own. But did that then mean they were elven? The thought was disquieting. If elves truly were responsible for this, then something was desperately wrong in Middle-earth. Elves never acted this way, especially with other elves. If not elves, then what? What else could possibly have enough strength to be doing this to him?
And they knew he was a prince, this fact was not wasted on Legolas. The she-devil had even called him a prince. Another factor leading to elves. No other race would care what he was, or even know who he was. Disturbing revelations.
Legolas was not to be left alone with his thoughts. The door to his room opened and a figure came in. Legolas was severely beginning to tire of the cloaks hiding his enemies.
The elf lay mutely as the figure came to the bed and undid the lashings. When Legolas was free he stepped back. "Get up," the figure commanded. It was not the female, and Legolas found that he had thought it would be.
Slowly, and still painfully, Legolas pulled himself up, then carefully out of the bed. He was clean and dressed in fresh clothing, but he still felt sick to his stomach with the harsh treatment he had been suffering. In a haze, Legolas was marched out of the room, the figure at his back. Obviously, the same mistake was not to be repeated, even though Legolas was much too tired to try anything like that again. He knew the fight with the female had cost him much. The dagger in the back had nearly ended his life.
Blindly, Legolas staggered on, the figure giving short directions at his back. If Legolas failed to comply with the directions immediately, he was swiftly and harshly nudged in the correct direction. When they finally reached their destination, Legolas was on the verge of collapse.
"Wait here," the figure ordered gruffly, shoving past the elf and stepping up to a large wooden door in front of them. The figure paused right before he opened it, "And I mean what I say, if you are not here on my return, we will find you, and the consequences will not be pleasant. You cannot run from us in this castle." Then he was gone through the door.
It is not likely I would even try, Legolas thought dimly to himself as he leaned heavily against a wall. He was in absolutely no condition to try another run for hope. He could barely stand as he was.
The figure came back, and Legolas looked at him through bloodshot eyes. He was grabbed roughly by an arm and pushed through the door. "Act like a Prince and walk on your own," the figure hissed at his back.
With as much pride as he could muster, the elf walked slowly into the room. His mind seemed to be working slowly as he took in his surroundings. He had been expecting another type of dungeon or a large council room at the least. Instead, he was walking into a very vast dining hall. The bulk of it was dominated by a huge table, at which every seat was filled. The scent of food was heavy in the air, and Legolas realized he was very hungry. He had not eaten anything since being captured.
After he assessed the surroundings, Legolas' gaze lowered to the occupants of the table. With a start, the elf realized that they were no longer wearing the long cloaks with hoods. He could now see features of his captors.
And they were elves.
With dismay, Legolas took in the fair faces, pointed ears, and other signs to verify that they were elves. There was one difference though. All eyes were on him, and all eyes held a hostile look that was foreign to Legolas. He had never been the object of such open disgust. A few of the elves looked like they would even want to kill Legolas right then. Legolas only tried to walk straighter and appear as though he was unaffected by the hostility, when in actuality it made his very soul sick.
Legolas was still walking, the figure still directing him on at his back. He was almost to the head of the table, and Legolas finally realized what would take place. He was going to be presented to the lord of this place, and perhaps a judgement would occur. Legolas braced himself for the encounter, he would not be made to look foolish and weak in front of the strange elves.
They reached the head of the table, and Legolas was stopped. "My lord," stated the figure behind him, "I present to you Legolas, son of Thranduil and prince of Mirkwood."
The head elf turned to fully regard them, and Legolas looked as steadily as was possible back at him. The elf rose solemnly and Legolas noted the features of him. His hair was as dark as night and his eyes were like two lightless pits. His clothing was dark as well, and he seemed to be a parody of Legolas' own light clothing and light features. Legolas had the sudden impression that he was representing day and the strange elf was representing the night.
The elf smiled thinly. "I am of course aware of who and what you are," he informed Legolas. Legolas was not sure how to react to that, so he only held his head higher and locked his blue eyes on the black ones.
"It is always customary that one would introduce himself to another who knows naught of him." Legolas chose his words carefully, striving to sound proud and fearless and as though the recent harsh treatment had been nothing to him, like a good prince.
"Custom has no meaning here," the strange elf replied, "especially customs of yours. Do not expect the comforts of your home. However, we will reign civil for the moment and invite you to dine with us, great Prince of Mirkwood."
Legolas was definitely thrown off stride now. He had no regal reply, as this was the last thing expected from this confrontation. The contempt in the strange elf's voice could not be missed, but his words certainly held no threat. What was he to do?
Of course, there was only one thing to do, Legolas allowed himself to be seated. He fairly collapsed in the chair, grace was momentarily a thing of the past to his injured body. He took an empty seat that was at the left-hand of the elven-lord. Once Legolas was seated, food and drink was immediately placed before him. Suspicion was very high. Legolas looked at the food warily, wondering if perhaps poison would be their method. As he debated over the quality of the food, Legolas raised his eyes and his glance fell on the elf seated across the table from him, at the lord's right-hand.
It was an elf-maiden. And the hostility in her eyes surpassed them all. Her appearance matched that of the dark lord's, in fact, Legolas realized that all the elves in the hall had dark hair and dark eyes. But the elf-maiden seated across from him matched the elf-lord perfectly, the darkness of them matching the abyss.
And the elf-maiden sat with her right-arm hung limply in her lap. Legolas glanced at her shoulder, and could barely make out minute drops of blood on her dark clothing. Blood from a deep wound hastily cleaned and not properly dressed. The elf-maiden was his own personal tormentor.
The other elves had already forgotten about the visiting prince, as he was of no importance to them, and had settled back to eating. The elf- maiden was another story. Her black eyes remained fixed on Legolas, even when he dropped his own and slowly began to eat. The disgust on her face was fixed. She did not touch any more of her food.
When Legolas was halfway through with his meal, which he had to admit was pretty good, the dark elf-lord rose. All other elves immediately rose and Legolas was jabbed harshly in the back when he did not rise. Slowly, Legolas stood.
Without a word, the elf-lord turned and walked solemnly out of the room. Several elves, including the maiden, followed him out. When he was out of sight, the rest of the elves began to file out of the room.
Legolas had a moment's hope that he had been forgotten when the guard who had escorted him into the room appeared at his side. He still had his cloak and hood on. He grabbed Legolas' arm, but Legolas jerked it out of his grasp and stood aside. He only looked at the guard, his intention clear. He could follow without being led like a child. The guard muttered something under his breath and turned to walk. He glanced back often, but Legolas was always quietly behind him.
Legolas was led back into the room he had woken up in. He stepped inside of it and the door was slammed behind him and he heard the turn of a key in the lock. No matter to him, as long as he was alone for a few hours and allowed to rest. Wearily, Legolas made his way to the bed and fell into it. He was asleep almost immediately, his eyes tightly closed, as this was an occasion meant for total rest in hopes he would be strong enough to face his tormentors tomorrow.