Author's Note: Did I ever mention I love you all for your wonderful
reviews? Cause I really do. And oh yeah, I aint Tolkien, in case anybody
had forgotten. Now here's some more and I hope you enjoy!
To Aireroswen: Hope your ankle is feeling better! :)
Chapter 13
The elf lord threw down the whip and exited the room with Glorfindel following. Legolas took a deep breath and tried to straighten up in order to ease the weight off of his wrists, but he could not quite get his legs to cooperate. After a very brief struggle, he gave up and simply hung there, his head falling forward onto his chest. The best he could do right now was concentrate on breathing. His lungs were strained from his chest being stretched out so, but he could not possibly breathe and force his legs to hold him up at the same time.
When he finally got to the point to where his lungs were operating on their own without thought, Legolas became aware that he was not yet alone in the room. Carefully, he raised his head a few inches. Eirien stood in front of him, a definite smile on her face. Her arms were crossed lazily over her chest, mocking him with her easy posture.
Legolas struggled to stand up straight and appear to be dignified, and he felt minor triumph when his legs finally obeyed him. He tried to ease his breathing so that it did not look like he had been affected that much, but that proved to be impossible.
The she-elf watched him quietly, seemingly finding entertainment in the elf prince battling with his own body and losing. "Have you finally remembered your manners?" she asked eventually.
"I did nothing wrong," Legolas gasped out, hating that his weak voice gave him away. A sudden spasm of pain gripped his body and his legs gave out on him. He slumped forward until he was hanging by the wrists again.
Eirien was talking, aloud but almost to herself. "Well I suppose you think that you did nothing wrong, what with your upbringing and the way you were taught to think and believe. Still, I trust that we have found an excellent way of fixing your behaviour."
Legolas felt like he had just been given an important piece of information, one that he could use to figure out why he was here, but he was too tired and in too much pain to even particularly care about it. He could not even bring himself to answer to the she-elf. With his head hanging down and his eyes fixed on the dirt floor, Legolas was able to see the discarded whip laying on the floor. And he also saw it start to move and slide out of his vision.
Slowly, Legolas struggled to bring his head up. Eirien had bent down and was now holding the whip. She stood gracefully and brought it up with her. With expert ease, she flicked it out and cracked it, creating a quick snap. She looked over to see Legolas watching her intently and she smiled at him. Unconsciously, Legolas' muscles tensed.
Lazily, Eirien swept the whip back and forth, letting it play about the ground. She watched Legolas as she did it and saw that he could not keep his eyes off of the whip. He was readying himself for the fresh bites of the whip.
Eirien laughed out loud and Legolas finally tore his eyes from the whip and looked at her. "I do believe the brave prince is scared," she commented, "how interesting."
Legolas said nothing and let his head fall back onto his chest. He closed his eyes. The she-elf could do whatever she wanted, he would not let her think that she had the ability to hold something over him.
So it was with some surprise that Legolas suddenly felt the whip coil around his neck. He opened his eyes and straightened quickly out of reflex. Too quickly. His injured muscles screamed in protest and a wave of dizziness overcame him. Had he not been held to the wall he would have fallen. As it was, the whip tightened around his neck and he was vaguely aware that the she-elf was of course the one doing it. But it did not tighten all the way and cut off his oxygen and Legolas was surprised when his legs gave out again, and he did fall forward this time.
Landing hard on his knees, Legolas brought his arms down in time to prevent himself from sprawling completely on the floor. He stayed in that position for a moment, his tired mind not able to grasp what had just happened to him. Eventually, he was able to figure out that he had been released from the manacles chaining him to the wall.
The elf prince felt a pull at his neck and Legolas peered upwards. Eirien stood over him, one hand holding the end of the whip. "If you want to be able to reach your room you will have to walk, I will not carry you."
Legolas was confused. He had been convinced that he had been meant to stay in this room all night, maybe even longer, and he had not heard the elf lord tell Eirien to take him back to his room. His confusion was interrupted by another harsh tug and Legolas struggled painfully to his feet.
Eirien walked before him, leading him like a beast on a leash. And Legolas felt like one, for he would occasionally have to scramble along on his knees until he could get his feet back underneath one. The distance to his room seemed like an unending journey of torment. His battered body did not want to move and his lungs had forgotten how to breathe again. Every time Legolas tried to stop the whip was pulled on impatiently.
"Hurry up," Eirien said impatiently once when he fell against the wall of the hall. "If anybody sees us they will take you back and you will be unable to rest in a bed."
Legolas began to move again, but he was sure he had not heard her correctly. The blow to his temple must have been more serious than he thought, for it almost sounded like Eirien was actually trying to help him. And in his short experience with her, he knew that would never happen.
In a haze of pain, Legolas was only dimly aware when they finally reached his room. Rough hands pulled the front of his tunic and he was literally dragged the last few feet inside of the room. Once let go, he collapsed on the floor and lay there like a dead thing. He was on the verge of blackness and was only vaguely aware that the whip was being pulled off of his neck.
Eirien's voice filtered down to him, "If anybody asks, somebody else came to get you, not I." Legolas did not have the strength to give any type of response and he felt her foot prod at his still form. The she-elf sighed. "If he dies it is not my fault," then she added in almost a whisper, "would be a pity though." And then Legolas was alone. He did not even hear the door shut and lock.
He lay without moving, all his energy spent. With no more adrenaline keeping him going, all the new wounds to his body began to protest and demand attention that he could not give to them. His head especially started to throb and it was a while before he could remember why. His temple had been slammed in the brief fight. The realization of the head injury made him fight to stay awake. It was not wise to fall asleep right after sustaining a serious head wound, because then he might never wake up.
Legolas could not fall into the so tempting oblivion of unconsciousness, he had to make himself stay awake. Moving was out of the question, so Legolas instead began to sing very quietly to himself. He sang all the old songs of his childhood, the ones that made him think of Mirkwood and his father and much better times.
Legolas had no idea how long he sang or even if he was singing out loud half of the time. But he froze when there was the undeniable sound of someone turning a key in his door. He remembered something about Eirien saying that he should not say she had brought him in, which meant he was not even supposed to be in here. Legolas wanted to get up and brace for another form of punishment or fight, but the best he could do was roll over partially on his back.
The door opened and then closed almost as quickly. Legolas turned his head in the direction of the door, thinking that maybe somebody had just glanced in and had not seen him on the floor. But that was not to be, and Legolas quickly realized somebody was now in the room with him.
"Young prince," a voice called out to him, "why do you make such trouble for yourself?"
Legolas blinked and fought to get into a sitting position. Thankfully, he was able to drag his body upwards and lean against the bed so that he could see who he was talking to. The haze cleared from his sharp eyes and he was able to make out the form of Glorfindel standing quietly by his door.
"My Lord," Legolas began, coughing a bit as he spoke, "I do not bring this upon myself."
"I have been informed on what your father has done," Glorfindel spoke softly, "and how it has started to affect you. If you would just give in to us, we could then help you and your people."
Legolas was struck silent for a moment. He did not understand what Glorfindel was talking about. "My Lord, what do you mean by that?"
"Worry not," Glorfindel spoke softly, "we do not plan on punishing you for the deeds of your father. It is not your fault that Greenwood the Great fell into shadow and became Mirkwood. We only need your cooperation in order to restore the stronghold of the elves."
Legolas almost choked as he heard this and he had to clear his throat before speaking. "It was not the fault of my father either," Legolas insisted, "he did all he could in order to save our home from being completely overrun. Many of our people lost their lives in the battle, and my father almost lost his as well. The only reason that he did not clear all of the shadow from Mirkwood was because the time of the elves is fading, we do not have enough left to completely take back the forest."
Even in the dark, Legolas could see Glorfindel frown slightly. "You sound as though you are speaking the earnest truth," he said quietly.
"I am," Legolas started to rise but decided against it when his muscles protested against him. "I know not what you have been told, but for my part of the tale, I was ambushed on a hunting trip. I can only assume my companions were slaughtered and I was held in what felt like a stone tomb for at least two days. Then I was brought up here after being tortured and treated as an unwanted guest. I have done no wrong here and have only been persecuted mercilessly. If you wish to help me and my people, I only ask that you help me get out of here."
Legolas watched Glorfindel as the older elf stood silently, his bright eyes shining faintly in the dark. "Now I have heard two different tales," he finally said, "and I am not sure of which to believe. Rest easy tonight young prince, I will find out the truth behind all of this."
Before Legolas could say anything else Glorfindel turned and opened the door. He slipped out quickly and the door closed again. This time Legolas audibly heard the lock.
To Aireroswen: Hope your ankle is feeling better! :)
Chapter 13
The elf lord threw down the whip and exited the room with Glorfindel following. Legolas took a deep breath and tried to straighten up in order to ease the weight off of his wrists, but he could not quite get his legs to cooperate. After a very brief struggle, he gave up and simply hung there, his head falling forward onto his chest. The best he could do right now was concentrate on breathing. His lungs were strained from his chest being stretched out so, but he could not possibly breathe and force his legs to hold him up at the same time.
When he finally got to the point to where his lungs were operating on their own without thought, Legolas became aware that he was not yet alone in the room. Carefully, he raised his head a few inches. Eirien stood in front of him, a definite smile on her face. Her arms were crossed lazily over her chest, mocking him with her easy posture.
Legolas struggled to stand up straight and appear to be dignified, and he felt minor triumph when his legs finally obeyed him. He tried to ease his breathing so that it did not look like he had been affected that much, but that proved to be impossible.
The she-elf watched him quietly, seemingly finding entertainment in the elf prince battling with his own body and losing. "Have you finally remembered your manners?" she asked eventually.
"I did nothing wrong," Legolas gasped out, hating that his weak voice gave him away. A sudden spasm of pain gripped his body and his legs gave out on him. He slumped forward until he was hanging by the wrists again.
Eirien was talking, aloud but almost to herself. "Well I suppose you think that you did nothing wrong, what with your upbringing and the way you were taught to think and believe. Still, I trust that we have found an excellent way of fixing your behaviour."
Legolas felt like he had just been given an important piece of information, one that he could use to figure out why he was here, but he was too tired and in too much pain to even particularly care about it. He could not even bring himself to answer to the she-elf. With his head hanging down and his eyes fixed on the dirt floor, Legolas was able to see the discarded whip laying on the floor. And he also saw it start to move and slide out of his vision.
Slowly, Legolas struggled to bring his head up. Eirien had bent down and was now holding the whip. She stood gracefully and brought it up with her. With expert ease, she flicked it out and cracked it, creating a quick snap. She looked over to see Legolas watching her intently and she smiled at him. Unconsciously, Legolas' muscles tensed.
Lazily, Eirien swept the whip back and forth, letting it play about the ground. She watched Legolas as she did it and saw that he could not keep his eyes off of the whip. He was readying himself for the fresh bites of the whip.
Eirien laughed out loud and Legolas finally tore his eyes from the whip and looked at her. "I do believe the brave prince is scared," she commented, "how interesting."
Legolas said nothing and let his head fall back onto his chest. He closed his eyes. The she-elf could do whatever she wanted, he would not let her think that she had the ability to hold something over him.
So it was with some surprise that Legolas suddenly felt the whip coil around his neck. He opened his eyes and straightened quickly out of reflex. Too quickly. His injured muscles screamed in protest and a wave of dizziness overcame him. Had he not been held to the wall he would have fallen. As it was, the whip tightened around his neck and he was vaguely aware that the she-elf was of course the one doing it. But it did not tighten all the way and cut off his oxygen and Legolas was surprised when his legs gave out again, and he did fall forward this time.
Landing hard on his knees, Legolas brought his arms down in time to prevent himself from sprawling completely on the floor. He stayed in that position for a moment, his tired mind not able to grasp what had just happened to him. Eventually, he was able to figure out that he had been released from the manacles chaining him to the wall.
The elf prince felt a pull at his neck and Legolas peered upwards. Eirien stood over him, one hand holding the end of the whip. "If you want to be able to reach your room you will have to walk, I will not carry you."
Legolas was confused. He had been convinced that he had been meant to stay in this room all night, maybe even longer, and he had not heard the elf lord tell Eirien to take him back to his room. His confusion was interrupted by another harsh tug and Legolas struggled painfully to his feet.
Eirien walked before him, leading him like a beast on a leash. And Legolas felt like one, for he would occasionally have to scramble along on his knees until he could get his feet back underneath one. The distance to his room seemed like an unending journey of torment. His battered body did not want to move and his lungs had forgotten how to breathe again. Every time Legolas tried to stop the whip was pulled on impatiently.
"Hurry up," Eirien said impatiently once when he fell against the wall of the hall. "If anybody sees us they will take you back and you will be unable to rest in a bed."
Legolas began to move again, but he was sure he had not heard her correctly. The blow to his temple must have been more serious than he thought, for it almost sounded like Eirien was actually trying to help him. And in his short experience with her, he knew that would never happen.
In a haze of pain, Legolas was only dimly aware when they finally reached his room. Rough hands pulled the front of his tunic and he was literally dragged the last few feet inside of the room. Once let go, he collapsed on the floor and lay there like a dead thing. He was on the verge of blackness and was only vaguely aware that the whip was being pulled off of his neck.
Eirien's voice filtered down to him, "If anybody asks, somebody else came to get you, not I." Legolas did not have the strength to give any type of response and he felt her foot prod at his still form. The she-elf sighed. "If he dies it is not my fault," then she added in almost a whisper, "would be a pity though." And then Legolas was alone. He did not even hear the door shut and lock.
He lay without moving, all his energy spent. With no more adrenaline keeping him going, all the new wounds to his body began to protest and demand attention that he could not give to them. His head especially started to throb and it was a while before he could remember why. His temple had been slammed in the brief fight. The realization of the head injury made him fight to stay awake. It was not wise to fall asleep right after sustaining a serious head wound, because then he might never wake up.
Legolas could not fall into the so tempting oblivion of unconsciousness, he had to make himself stay awake. Moving was out of the question, so Legolas instead began to sing very quietly to himself. He sang all the old songs of his childhood, the ones that made him think of Mirkwood and his father and much better times.
Legolas had no idea how long he sang or even if he was singing out loud half of the time. But he froze when there was the undeniable sound of someone turning a key in his door. He remembered something about Eirien saying that he should not say she had brought him in, which meant he was not even supposed to be in here. Legolas wanted to get up and brace for another form of punishment or fight, but the best he could do was roll over partially on his back.
The door opened and then closed almost as quickly. Legolas turned his head in the direction of the door, thinking that maybe somebody had just glanced in and had not seen him on the floor. But that was not to be, and Legolas quickly realized somebody was now in the room with him.
"Young prince," a voice called out to him, "why do you make such trouble for yourself?"
Legolas blinked and fought to get into a sitting position. Thankfully, he was able to drag his body upwards and lean against the bed so that he could see who he was talking to. The haze cleared from his sharp eyes and he was able to make out the form of Glorfindel standing quietly by his door.
"My Lord," Legolas began, coughing a bit as he spoke, "I do not bring this upon myself."
"I have been informed on what your father has done," Glorfindel spoke softly, "and how it has started to affect you. If you would just give in to us, we could then help you and your people."
Legolas was struck silent for a moment. He did not understand what Glorfindel was talking about. "My Lord, what do you mean by that?"
"Worry not," Glorfindel spoke softly, "we do not plan on punishing you for the deeds of your father. It is not your fault that Greenwood the Great fell into shadow and became Mirkwood. We only need your cooperation in order to restore the stronghold of the elves."
Legolas almost choked as he heard this and he had to clear his throat before speaking. "It was not the fault of my father either," Legolas insisted, "he did all he could in order to save our home from being completely overrun. Many of our people lost their lives in the battle, and my father almost lost his as well. The only reason that he did not clear all of the shadow from Mirkwood was because the time of the elves is fading, we do not have enough left to completely take back the forest."
Even in the dark, Legolas could see Glorfindel frown slightly. "You sound as though you are speaking the earnest truth," he said quietly.
"I am," Legolas started to rise but decided against it when his muscles protested against him. "I know not what you have been told, but for my part of the tale, I was ambushed on a hunting trip. I can only assume my companions were slaughtered and I was held in what felt like a stone tomb for at least two days. Then I was brought up here after being tortured and treated as an unwanted guest. I have done no wrong here and have only been persecuted mercilessly. If you wish to help me and my people, I only ask that you help me get out of here."
Legolas watched Glorfindel as the older elf stood silently, his bright eyes shining faintly in the dark. "Now I have heard two different tales," he finally said, "and I am not sure of which to believe. Rest easy tonight young prince, I will find out the truth behind all of this."
Before Legolas could say anything else Glorfindel turned and opened the door. He slipped out quickly and the door closed again. This time Legolas audibly heard the lock.