Sorry for the long wait, RL has been intense these past few weeks. I've only been able to write for the last few days. Here is the post. Thanks for all the reviews! :)
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Thranduil knew it was now a race against time. They had been so close to taking back his son; to killing what creature had taken him. The blood was still fresh, still warm. They couldn't have gotten far...
But the trail had been lost, and no sign could be found. The creature that had stolen his son seemed to have vanished, and Thranduil knew that they had little time left to find his son. The blood was already a warning to how badly Legolas was hurt, and how little time they had.
Thranduil's anger was boiling as he searched for any trace of his son. The creature would not live long once Thranduil found it, that was for certain. The lose of his oldest son was still fresh in his mind; combined with the thought of losing his youngest was enough to drive Thranduil mad with rage. But he kept it in, kept his mind clear. To all around him, he seemed to ice cold, but that was only the calm before the storm that brewed within the Elven King.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Legolas groaned as consciousness returned to him. His head throbbed, his memories were scrambled, and he was too weak to open his eyes. But he knew he must, to see what the creature that had taken him was planning, though he felt he did not want to know. Forcing his eyes open slowly, he found his vision blurred for a few moments, and then slowly come into focus. The first thing he saw as his vision cleared was a reflection of his eyes staring back at him. Looking up, he saw the shadowed face of his capturer, who almost seemed to be leering down at him. Legolas tried to draw back, but could not as his back was pinned to the tree.
'You have beautiful eyes, elfling, just like your grand sir,' the creature's voice crooned in his mind as the blade moved to caress his cheek, the sharp tip of it lightly cutting into his skin, leaving a trail like blood tears upon his fair face.
Legolas flinched but did not pull away, some how knowing the creature would hurt him more if he did.
'Though you didn't receive his hair coloring, you look so similar to him, ' the voice continued, switching the blade to his other cheek, and repeating the process.
Legolas withheld his whimpers as he continued to look up at the creature, but he could not hold onto his tears. They slipped from the corners of his eyes, stinging as they trailed into the twin cuts on his cheeks.
'It seems almost a pity to kill you. I wonder if you have your ancestor's voice of music. Why don't you sing?' the creature said cruelly, and trailed the blade under his chin.
Legolas only continued to glare up at the creature and remained silent through his tears.
'Ah, you think you are brave, little one?' the blade cut into the tender flesh of his neck, 'You're not. Though, you may be as stubborn as your ancestor, but not as brave.'
The blade moved down, cutting into his tunic and into the skin of his chest. Thin whimpers were torn from him as the cruel blade dug deeper into his body, bringing more blood and pain as it went.
'Perhaps you would like to see your tormentor's face?' the creature hissed, and pulled back its hood.
Legolas's eyes widened in fear, and his scream echoed through the dark woods.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Thranduil's blood chilled as he heard his son's scream. Forcing his horse on, Thranduil raced through the forest, his sight directed in the direction from which his son's scream had come from.
'They are there. Hurry, he can't hold off the other for long,' the voice again ran through Thranduil's mind as he left those in his company behind.
Thranduil could not place the name, though it echoed powerfully in his memory. For a brief moment, he almost remembered, but it faded in the desperate need to reach his son before any more harm could be done to him. A second scream, more pain then fear now, rang once more in the dark forest, and Thranduil forced his mount to its limits.
Suddenly, a flash came forth from the place that he was approaching. His mount reared up in fright, and Thranduil lost his balance in his own shock. He crashed to the ground, and his fair head hit a rock hidden in the dirt. Consciousness faded, and the he heard was his son screaming once more. Fighting the blackness that sought to pull him down into its depths, Thranduil rose to his feet slowly, his head pounding as the blood poured from the cut at his brow. Staggering forward, he finally was able to make it to where he knew his son was. Leaning upon a tree for support, his hand upon his sword, Thranduil focused himself for the battle he knew to be ahead. Shock filled Thranduil as he looked up to a sight that he had never seen before, or would ever see again.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Legolas couldn't withhold his scream as he looked into black holes of the rotting skull's head, where eyes should have been.
"You're ancestor's face, yet not his soul. Seems to be a proper vessel when killing those of his decent. I shall soon be after the one who he was soul bound to, then my revenge will be complete. But for now, I shall satisfy myself with you, little one," the creature hissed through rotted lips, the teeth of its mouth broken and yellow.
The blade the creature held ran up, again cutting into the pale flesh beneath Legolas's tunic. Legolas whimpered, in fear and pain. Suddenly the blade stopped, at his right shoulder, and began to slowly push inward. Legolas withheld his screams as it broke the skin, and cleaved into the muscle, making its way to the bone, but when the blade was suddenly twisted in the wound, the pain exploded within him, and his second scream was torn from him in agony.
Suddenly, a blast of pure light came before Legolas, and he shielded his eyes with his left arm. He could hear the creature's scream of pure fury, and shook with the intensity of it.
'You shall not harm him further, Gothmog, and you shall remove yourself from my body,' a voice echoed in Legolas's young mind.
The voice was strong, unyielding, yet like silver water, for it was slick and cool as ice. It was a voice that he knew, but Legolas knew not from where. Opening his eyes, he beheld a sight that surpassed all other sights he had seen in his short years. Before him stood an Elf Lord of old, with silver and blue armor, and a sword clenched in one hand as the Elf's silver hair blew in the wind. The Elf Lord faced the dark creature head on, his back to Legolas. Legolas scrambled to the side, finding that some time during the moments when his eyes had been closed, the horrid blade had been removed from his shoulder. Yet the pain was still intense, and he knew not why as he tried to stanch the flow of blood coming from the wound.
Turning back to the conflict, he finally viewed the face of his savior. The Elf looked similar to Legolas himself, and indeed, he seemed to be the owner of the rotting corpse before him.
"You should not have come near my own, Gothmog, nor taken what is not yours to take. Now, I may finally finish the job by which I and others started, Balrog, and you shall meet your dark maker in the abyss," the Elf said, and with drew his sword.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Thranduil knew it was now a race against time. They had been so close to taking back his son; to killing what creature had taken him. The blood was still fresh, still warm. They couldn't have gotten far...
But the trail had been lost, and no sign could be found. The creature that had stolen his son seemed to have vanished, and Thranduil knew that they had little time left to find his son. The blood was already a warning to how badly Legolas was hurt, and how little time they had.
Thranduil's anger was boiling as he searched for any trace of his son. The creature would not live long once Thranduil found it, that was for certain. The lose of his oldest son was still fresh in his mind; combined with the thought of losing his youngest was enough to drive Thranduil mad with rage. But he kept it in, kept his mind clear. To all around him, he seemed to ice cold, but that was only the calm before the storm that brewed within the Elven King.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Legolas groaned as consciousness returned to him. His head throbbed, his memories were scrambled, and he was too weak to open his eyes. But he knew he must, to see what the creature that had taken him was planning, though he felt he did not want to know. Forcing his eyes open slowly, he found his vision blurred for a few moments, and then slowly come into focus. The first thing he saw as his vision cleared was a reflection of his eyes staring back at him. Looking up, he saw the shadowed face of his capturer, who almost seemed to be leering down at him. Legolas tried to draw back, but could not as his back was pinned to the tree.
'You have beautiful eyes, elfling, just like your grand sir,' the creature's voice crooned in his mind as the blade moved to caress his cheek, the sharp tip of it lightly cutting into his skin, leaving a trail like blood tears upon his fair face.
Legolas flinched but did not pull away, some how knowing the creature would hurt him more if he did.
'Though you didn't receive his hair coloring, you look so similar to him, ' the voice continued, switching the blade to his other cheek, and repeating the process.
Legolas withheld his whimpers as he continued to look up at the creature, but he could not hold onto his tears. They slipped from the corners of his eyes, stinging as they trailed into the twin cuts on his cheeks.
'It seems almost a pity to kill you. I wonder if you have your ancestor's voice of music. Why don't you sing?' the creature said cruelly, and trailed the blade under his chin.
Legolas only continued to glare up at the creature and remained silent through his tears.
'Ah, you think you are brave, little one?' the blade cut into the tender flesh of his neck, 'You're not. Though, you may be as stubborn as your ancestor, but not as brave.'
The blade moved down, cutting into his tunic and into the skin of his chest. Thin whimpers were torn from him as the cruel blade dug deeper into his body, bringing more blood and pain as it went.
'Perhaps you would like to see your tormentor's face?' the creature hissed, and pulled back its hood.
Legolas's eyes widened in fear, and his scream echoed through the dark woods.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Thranduil's blood chilled as he heard his son's scream. Forcing his horse on, Thranduil raced through the forest, his sight directed in the direction from which his son's scream had come from.
'They are there. Hurry, he can't hold off the other for long,' the voice again ran through Thranduil's mind as he left those in his company behind.
Thranduil could not place the name, though it echoed powerfully in his memory. For a brief moment, he almost remembered, but it faded in the desperate need to reach his son before any more harm could be done to him. A second scream, more pain then fear now, rang once more in the dark forest, and Thranduil forced his mount to its limits.
Suddenly, a flash came forth from the place that he was approaching. His mount reared up in fright, and Thranduil lost his balance in his own shock. He crashed to the ground, and his fair head hit a rock hidden in the dirt. Consciousness faded, and the he heard was his son screaming once more. Fighting the blackness that sought to pull him down into its depths, Thranduil rose to his feet slowly, his head pounding as the blood poured from the cut at his brow. Staggering forward, he finally was able to make it to where he knew his son was. Leaning upon a tree for support, his hand upon his sword, Thranduil focused himself for the battle he knew to be ahead. Shock filled Thranduil as he looked up to a sight that he had never seen before, or would ever see again.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Legolas couldn't withhold his scream as he looked into black holes of the rotting skull's head, where eyes should have been.
"You're ancestor's face, yet not his soul. Seems to be a proper vessel when killing those of his decent. I shall soon be after the one who he was soul bound to, then my revenge will be complete. But for now, I shall satisfy myself with you, little one," the creature hissed through rotted lips, the teeth of its mouth broken and yellow.
The blade the creature held ran up, again cutting into the pale flesh beneath Legolas's tunic. Legolas whimpered, in fear and pain. Suddenly the blade stopped, at his right shoulder, and began to slowly push inward. Legolas withheld his screams as it broke the skin, and cleaved into the muscle, making its way to the bone, but when the blade was suddenly twisted in the wound, the pain exploded within him, and his second scream was torn from him in agony.
Suddenly, a blast of pure light came before Legolas, and he shielded his eyes with his left arm. He could hear the creature's scream of pure fury, and shook with the intensity of it.
'You shall not harm him further, Gothmog, and you shall remove yourself from my body,' a voice echoed in Legolas's young mind.
The voice was strong, unyielding, yet like silver water, for it was slick and cool as ice. It was a voice that he knew, but Legolas knew not from where. Opening his eyes, he beheld a sight that surpassed all other sights he had seen in his short years. Before him stood an Elf Lord of old, with silver and blue armor, and a sword clenched in one hand as the Elf's silver hair blew in the wind. The Elf Lord faced the dark creature head on, his back to Legolas. Legolas scrambled to the side, finding that some time during the moments when his eyes had been closed, the horrid blade had been removed from his shoulder. Yet the pain was still intense, and he knew not why as he tried to stanch the flow of blood coming from the wound.
Turning back to the conflict, he finally viewed the face of his savior. The Elf looked similar to Legolas himself, and indeed, he seemed to be the owner of the rotting corpse before him.
"You should not have come near my own, Gothmog, nor taken what is not yours to take. Now, I may finally finish the job by which I and others started, Balrog, and you shall meet your dark maker in the abyss," the Elf said, and with drew his sword.