Shadow of a Doubt
Chapter Nineteen: Demon In My View
by Capella
A/N: Oh my GOSH, folks. 207 reviews!!! YESSS!!!! And since you guys all reviewed me, I decided to not make Legolas a bad guy. The reason this chapter took as long as it did (I had most of it done in the week after I posted 18) is coz I didn't know whether to make Legolas evil or not. Well, i decided it'd be more dramatic this way. God, this chapter was so fun to write. *grins* Sadist, thy name is Capella.
Well, it's resolution time -- or at least, understanding time. :) I felt bad for what I did to Legolas last chapter, let alone Harry (even though it was sort of fun to write *grins*). So, althought it's not better yet, I'm giving you a peek into Legolas's psyche. Enjoy!
....I love Edgar Allen Poe. *is a geek*
_____________________________
"From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view."
-- Edgar Allen Poe, "Alone"
_____________________________
The light from the open door hit Harry's face as he slept, and Legolas could tell from the shiny tracks down the white skin that he'd been weeping again. He couldn't help but think how beautiful Harry was when he slept.
So beautiful. So innocent. So...mine.
The thought slithered up in his mind, unbidden, insinuating. His expression never wavered, but inside he screamed, a wordless cry. He willed his legs to move; he cried at his feet to turn around and walk out. Before he could hurt Harry.
A slimy laugh echoed through his head, and Legolas felt his lips turn up in a smirk even as he railed against the presence in his own mind. Get out, he pleaded. Please --
"Wake up, lovely."
That was his voice, his own voice, speaking. And Harry was looking up at him with those bruised, dulled eyes. Broken. He wanted to die.
"What do you want?" Harry whispered in a hoarse rasp. Legolas's body moved of someone else's wishes, and he bent down to eye level with the boy on the straw.
Legolas still hadn't figured out what had happened, how Sauron had done -- done what he did. He'd gone over that encounter so many times but he still didn't know how to break the spell. And he wanted to so badly. But for some reason, he couldn't focus...all he remembered was the searching hands, what Sauron had said, had done...he shivered. Then the pain. When he'd woken up, he'd woken up to being a prisoner as much as Harry was -- only he was trapped in his own mind.
All he wanted was one second of freedom. Just to tell Harry -- to tell him that it had been a lie. Legolas remembered the betrayal Harry had had in his eyes when...when those words had come out of his mouth. Legolas had wanted to die then. He still did.
"Stop....Legolas..."
Those green eyes were full of tears now that threatened to spill over creamy-pale cheeks. Legolas realized what he'd been doing and wanted to retch, wanted to throw the knife down, the one that he'd - Sauron - had used to cut Harry's clothes off.
As Legolas felt Sauron laughing at him, in his mind, and saw his own hand pin both of Harry's slim wrists to the ground, there was only one thought floating the corner of his mind.
I'm sorry.
________________________
Legolas finally left.
The relief in Harry was so strong that he was almost ashamed. He shut his eyes tight, cheek pressed into the hay beneath his head, and tried to ignore what was trickling down the back of his bare thighs, tried to ignore the hurt and the tiny spot of pain where he'd bitten his lip to keep from screaming.
It was strange...he didn't want to escape anymore. In the beginning, he'd dreamed of escaping, of finding out that all Legolas had done was a farce, that he was still loved. As the days had gone by, he knew it had been real. He didn't feel anything, didn't want anything anymore. Except one thing.
He just wanted to know why.
He rolled over onto his stomach -- Legolas had insisted on seeing his eyes during...what he did, and Harry had gotten another bruise on his cheek when he'd closed them. Opening his eyes had been the hardest thing he'd ever done. And then Legolas had laughed, and licked the tears off his cheeks, and said -- said how sweet he was. How beautiful. And what hurt the most was how Harry remembered Legolas saying those things before, in a different place.
There was the sound of a key turning in the lock on the door, and Harry stared at it emptily.
It wasn't Legolas, but a squat Orc with a thin chain. Without being asked, Harry tipped his head back and allowed the Orc to fasten the chain to his metal collar. The Orc gave a sharp tug on his leash to make Harry get to his feet, which he accomplished with only a small amount of dizziness. The Orc tossed him the bundle it had been carrying, which turned out to be a pair of scratchy, woolen pants. He put them on numbly, wincing when they touched his backside.
As he limped out the doorway after the Orc, he realized where they were going, the place he hadn't been to since he'd first come to Barad-dur. Sauron's throne room.
Harry felt the first stirrings of panic and fear and couldn't help but hope to God that Legolas wasn't there. He stumbled and fell to the ground, scraping his cheek against the rough stone floor. The Orc laughed and yanked the chain again to make him get up, but Harry's sewn-up leg wouldn't support him; he collapsed again to his knees after struggling halfway to his feet and tugged on the chain with both hands, trying to get the Orc to let go. The Orc refused and kept sneering and laughing at him, kept pulling on that damn leash. Finally Harry got back to his feet and let the Orc lead him.
Harry felt a sense of deja vu as they came to a halt in front of the double, black doors. Instead of the voice commanding them to enter this time, however, the doors swung wide by themselves with a loud, ominous creak. The Orc, who apparently was not allowed in the throne room, put his hands on Harry's shoulders and gave him a shove. Harry tumbled into the room with a hoarse cry at the jolt of pain in his lower back; landing finally on his stomach in the middle of the room, he slowly pushed himself up to his hands and knees.
"You should try not to break your playthings so fast, my pet."
Harry shuddered in fear at the voice that echoed around the room. He didn't feel like he had strength to do anything else. He stared at the ground, a tiny tremble going through him at the next voice, which sounded faintly amused.
"I do not believe he's quite broken yet, my master. I had thought he would be by now, but he is remarkably defiant. Perhaps you would like to help me." A hand came down to stroke Harry's hair from where he knelt on the floor, making him jump in suprise. Legolas laughed softly from above him. "You're coming along so nicely, little one. This would all stop if you would just agree to join us." His hand tightened in Harry's hair.
Harry gathered all his courage up. And spat in Legolas's face.
"Go to hell," he snarled. Legolas wiped the spittle off his cheek, shaking his head ruefully, and turned back to Sauron. Harry quickly looked back down at the floor.
"See, my master? He remains defiant even though I have tried all I could to break his spirit." Legolas sounded like he was smiling. "It would be...educating...to watch you break him for me." Harry felt his eyes widen, and his mind blanked with fear as he imagined what methods Sauron would use to break him. He reached up and grabbed one of Legolas's hands with both of his.
"Please," he whispered hoarsely. "Please don't give me to him. Please, Legolas!"
For a moment, there seemed to be an acute look of mingled suffering and horror in Legolas's eyes, but then it was gone so fast that Harry wondered if he had just imagined it. Legolas remained silent and Harry turned his attention on Sauron.
"Why?" He had meant it to be angry, but it sounded much too like a whimper.
Instead of answering, Sauron got up from his throne and strode forward, expression cruelly considering. He tipped Harry's chin up with one long, pale finger and forced Harry to look into those blood-red eyes. "You have changed much since the last time I saw you," Sauron said softly. "You were always so arrogant, with the protection of your almighty Manwe. How fortunate for me that he cannot protect you now, Eonwe." His smile was cold, but his tone had become slightly bitter. "I loved you once."
"You loved power!"
Harry gave a startled jerk when he heard the words coming out of his mouth, in that same two-tone voice he'd heard himself use at Orthanc. Sauron, for just a moment, had a slightly unguarded look before it became cynical.
"Of course. Olorin -- or as you know him, Gandalf -- must have been telling you things. You are not Eonwe, sweet, but I am sure he is trapped in there, somewhere." Sauron tapped a finger on Harry's temple. "How horrible that must be, to have another presence in your mind." And then he laughed, a coldly amused laugh that made Harry flinch. He thought he saw Legolas cringe, too.
"Take him back to his cells," Sauron said softly without looking back at Legolas, keeping his red eyes fastened onto Harry's and stroking a finger down Harry's cheek. "Warm him up for me, and perhaps I will give him a visit later." He gave Harry one last, condescending look and turned around in a swish of black robes. Harry didn't bother to raise a protest as the Orc came to tug on his leash and lead him back.
Later that day, when Legolas came with his whip and his new tortures, Harry didn't say a word, even as the blood dripped down his back and his legs and Legolas dripped sweat on him from above and made the cuts burn.
___________________
Harry had finally fallen to sleep when, not two hours later, the door to his cell swung open with a loud crash.
The dim form of Legolas was silhouetted in the doorway.
With a stab of panic, Harry shook his head. He couldn't do it. He couldn't, not again, please, he heard himself pleading.
Legolas's eyes were slightly wild, and he was breathing hard. His hands were shaking. "Harry, go. Now."
Harry stared at Legolas warily. Maybe this was a new type of torture. They'd tried other ways -- starvation, beatings, and...other, worse things. Besides, he didn't know if he could even stand now.
Legolas looked frantic. He grabbed Harry's hand to haul him to his feet, and a sharp stab of pain went through Harry's lower body. He doubled over in a crouch on the ground. Looking concerned, Legolas reached out a hand to stroke Harry's cheek. Harry flinched.
"Oh Harry...Harry, I'm so sorry."
Harry looked up in shock. Legolas had an expression of horror on his face as he looked at Harry's bleeding, abused body. He seemed sincere. And his eyes seemed...lighter. With effort, Harry pulled himself to his feet despite his body's protests. The whip was nowhere in sight.
"Go," Legolas whispered tightly, and pressed Harry's wand into the wizard's hand.
Harry hesitated, and Legolas snarled, raising his fist and driving it into Harry's stomach. It felt like someone threw a brick at him. Through his pain, he looked up at Legolas in confusion. Legolas shut his eyes and pointed to the door.
Tears filling his eyes, Harry ran.
_________________________________
Legolas slid down the door as he shut it after Harry. "Run, Harry" he said softly.
/Run, lovely? Where can he go?/
Shut up, Legolas growled. Touch him and I'll kill you.
That voice turned mocking and oily. /But I already touched him, little one. And wasn't he...delightful. All that smooth skin and those lovely eyes. He put up such a wonderful struggle for me...or should I say, for you./ The voice laughed. /He looks beautiful when he has been betrayed./
Shut up. It was a whisper this time. It didn't stop the voice.
/And then my Orcs will find him, and who knows what they will do to him before they return him to me. I think I shall keep him for myself. You will never get a chance like this again, because I will be much, much more careful. I thought I could calm you by letting you have a taste of his body, but it seems you are much stronger than I had percieved./ The voice sounded amused. /Although I am just sure you didn't enjoy that in the least -- seeing him gasping under you again. Anyway, in short, my sweet, you have just made it worse./
Legolas's eyes widened and, in his brief moment of weakness, that presence slithered its way back into the crevasses of his mind, the invisible fingers reaching out until they controlled him.
Back in his cage, Legolas wept silently, hoping against hope that somehow Harry had found his way out.
____________________________
The tears in Harry's eyes were making it hard to see as he stumbled his way down the dark stone corridor, which was lit only by torches that cast a strange reddish glow. He held his wand out in front of him like a sword, his wand arm wavering, his legs weak. The calf that had been sliced open was burning steadily now with every step he took. Harry's breath was coming so hard and labored that he was scared someone would hear it. And then he'd be taken back to -- to him, and Legolas would -- he stifled a sob and continued his slow journey down the passage.
Harry realized about ten minutes later that he had no idea where he was going, and that he could walk right into Sauron's throne room.
There were voices coming up the corridor.
Harry panicked. Thanking every deity he knew of that the passages weren't very well done, he crouched behind a craggy outcrop and waited. The rough Orc-voices grew nearer.
When they were so close that Harry could see the torch light the Orcs carried, he leaned out of his hiding place and pointed his wand. He was about to whisper the worse hexes and curses he knew when without warning his wand flashed a brilliant white. When the glare receded, the Orcs were on the ground, unmoving.
Harry stared out into the hallway, disbelieving. When it was totally apparent that the Orcs were dead, he crept out to them. Finding the smallest one he could, he stole a pair of pants and shirt for himself, even though he crinkled his noise at how filthy they were. They were too big still, but Harry didn't have time to search for a belt. He trudged his way on.
Not an hour later, Harry began to panic in earnest. He remembered all too well that time spent in the stronghold of Saruman: the endless dark, the crushing despair and defeat, the feeling of hopelessness. The walls seemed to close in on him. Maybe being with -- with Legolas would have been a preferable fate than this wandering. Wandering until some Orc patrol found him, or until Sauron did.
Then the thought struck him
Apparation.
Harry wanted to hit himself. Could he have possibly been any more stupid? He fixed a picture of the entrance to Cirith Ungol in his head, and lifted his wand.
He abruptly let it back down with a sigh.
He couldn't leave Legolas here. The thought of going back to Legolas made him want to retch, but there was no other way. He shut his eyes.
"Shit," he muttered, and slowly picked his way through the tunnel back to his cell.
_________________________
Harry paused outside the door with his wand raised, even if it was trembling a bit. There was light coming from the small window on the door and he thought he heard Legolas speaking. He had to take several deep, long breaths before he was calm enough to put his hand on the door and swing it open. As soon as the door started creaking laboriously, the voice stopped.
Legolas was sitting on the floor hunched over his knees, black hair obscuring his face; when the door opened his head flew up with an expression of startlement.
"Harry, you -" he started, and then his face twisted and changed from startled to amused. "You didn't run," he finished smoothly.
Harry kept his face stoic, but he felt a little part of him crumble inside from the disappointment of seeing Legolas not as he was when the elf had let Harry go. He had hoped...
"I'm here to take you back to Gondor with me," he said, and was amazed at how steady he kept his voice. Legolas's black eyes widened in suprise. His smile was not a nice one.
"Take me back with you, sweet? I do not think I can allow that, sadly. I'm afraid that you must stay here."
Harry took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "Stupefy."
Legolas crumpled to the floor, gracefully even while falling. Harry stared, astonished, at his unmoving body, sure that it could not possibly be this simple to escape Sauron's grip. Then again, he thought ruefully, he supposed he had once been as powerful as the Dark Lord himself. Maybe it wasn't just luck. That thought was very comforting.
Harry went forward and grabbed Legolas's arm, hauling the unconscious elf to his feet and putting an arm around Legolas's waist to support him. At that moment the door swung open.
Sauron was framed in the doorway.
Harry froze in shock as Sauron raised his hand and a great ball of fire shot out towards him. With the fireball speeding towards him and only a few seconds between escape and a horrible death, he raised his wand and shouted "Apparate!"
His last sight before the world around him spun was of a crimson flame.
_____________________________
A/N: Ahhhh, that was so fun. *hugs chapter* I think I made a writer's breakthrough -- It's getting to be really, really fun to write. I mean, before, I was just writing to write, you know? Now I'm writing because I want to see what I make them do (I never stick to story outlines). And it's a blast. Plus, I'm sure (or hoping) the chapters are much better than they were before. Funny -- it started getting really good once I just hopped off the Tolkien storyline nearly completely.
By the way, most of this chapter was written while listening to the FFX soundtrack. S'why the mood switches so much. Am I a geek if I cried at the end of that game?
Chapter Nineteen: Demon In My View
by Capella
A/N: Oh my GOSH, folks. 207 reviews!!! YESSS!!!! And since you guys all reviewed me, I decided to not make Legolas a bad guy. The reason this chapter took as long as it did (I had most of it done in the week after I posted 18) is coz I didn't know whether to make Legolas evil or not. Well, i decided it'd be more dramatic this way. God, this chapter was so fun to write. *grins* Sadist, thy name is Capella.
Well, it's resolution time -- or at least, understanding time. :) I felt bad for what I did to Legolas last chapter, let alone Harry (even though it was sort of fun to write *grins*). So, althought it's not better yet, I'm giving you a peek into Legolas's psyche. Enjoy!
....I love Edgar Allen Poe. *is a geek*
_____________________________
"From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view."
-- Edgar Allen Poe, "Alone"
_____________________________
The light from the open door hit Harry's face as he slept, and Legolas could tell from the shiny tracks down the white skin that he'd been weeping again. He couldn't help but think how beautiful Harry was when he slept.
So beautiful. So innocent. So...mine.
The thought slithered up in his mind, unbidden, insinuating. His expression never wavered, but inside he screamed, a wordless cry. He willed his legs to move; he cried at his feet to turn around and walk out. Before he could hurt Harry.
A slimy laugh echoed through his head, and Legolas felt his lips turn up in a smirk even as he railed against the presence in his own mind. Get out, he pleaded. Please --
"Wake up, lovely."
That was his voice, his own voice, speaking. And Harry was looking up at him with those bruised, dulled eyes. Broken. He wanted to die.
"What do you want?" Harry whispered in a hoarse rasp. Legolas's body moved of someone else's wishes, and he bent down to eye level with the boy on the straw.
Legolas still hadn't figured out what had happened, how Sauron had done -- done what he did. He'd gone over that encounter so many times but he still didn't know how to break the spell. And he wanted to so badly. But for some reason, he couldn't focus...all he remembered was the searching hands, what Sauron had said, had done...he shivered. Then the pain. When he'd woken up, he'd woken up to being a prisoner as much as Harry was -- only he was trapped in his own mind.
All he wanted was one second of freedom. Just to tell Harry -- to tell him that it had been a lie. Legolas remembered the betrayal Harry had had in his eyes when...when those words had come out of his mouth. Legolas had wanted to die then. He still did.
"Stop....Legolas..."
Those green eyes were full of tears now that threatened to spill over creamy-pale cheeks. Legolas realized what he'd been doing and wanted to retch, wanted to throw the knife down, the one that he'd - Sauron - had used to cut Harry's clothes off.
As Legolas felt Sauron laughing at him, in his mind, and saw his own hand pin both of Harry's slim wrists to the ground, there was only one thought floating the corner of his mind.
I'm sorry.
________________________
Legolas finally left.
The relief in Harry was so strong that he was almost ashamed. He shut his eyes tight, cheek pressed into the hay beneath his head, and tried to ignore what was trickling down the back of his bare thighs, tried to ignore the hurt and the tiny spot of pain where he'd bitten his lip to keep from screaming.
It was strange...he didn't want to escape anymore. In the beginning, he'd dreamed of escaping, of finding out that all Legolas had done was a farce, that he was still loved. As the days had gone by, he knew it had been real. He didn't feel anything, didn't want anything anymore. Except one thing.
He just wanted to know why.
He rolled over onto his stomach -- Legolas had insisted on seeing his eyes during...what he did, and Harry had gotten another bruise on his cheek when he'd closed them. Opening his eyes had been the hardest thing he'd ever done. And then Legolas had laughed, and licked the tears off his cheeks, and said -- said how sweet he was. How beautiful. And what hurt the most was how Harry remembered Legolas saying those things before, in a different place.
There was the sound of a key turning in the lock on the door, and Harry stared at it emptily.
It wasn't Legolas, but a squat Orc with a thin chain. Without being asked, Harry tipped his head back and allowed the Orc to fasten the chain to his metal collar. The Orc gave a sharp tug on his leash to make Harry get to his feet, which he accomplished with only a small amount of dizziness. The Orc tossed him the bundle it had been carrying, which turned out to be a pair of scratchy, woolen pants. He put them on numbly, wincing when they touched his backside.
As he limped out the doorway after the Orc, he realized where they were going, the place he hadn't been to since he'd first come to Barad-dur. Sauron's throne room.
Harry felt the first stirrings of panic and fear and couldn't help but hope to God that Legolas wasn't there. He stumbled and fell to the ground, scraping his cheek against the rough stone floor. The Orc laughed and yanked the chain again to make him get up, but Harry's sewn-up leg wouldn't support him; he collapsed again to his knees after struggling halfway to his feet and tugged on the chain with both hands, trying to get the Orc to let go. The Orc refused and kept sneering and laughing at him, kept pulling on that damn leash. Finally Harry got back to his feet and let the Orc lead him.
Harry felt a sense of deja vu as they came to a halt in front of the double, black doors. Instead of the voice commanding them to enter this time, however, the doors swung wide by themselves with a loud, ominous creak. The Orc, who apparently was not allowed in the throne room, put his hands on Harry's shoulders and gave him a shove. Harry tumbled into the room with a hoarse cry at the jolt of pain in his lower back; landing finally on his stomach in the middle of the room, he slowly pushed himself up to his hands and knees.
"You should try not to break your playthings so fast, my pet."
Harry shuddered in fear at the voice that echoed around the room. He didn't feel like he had strength to do anything else. He stared at the ground, a tiny tremble going through him at the next voice, which sounded faintly amused.
"I do not believe he's quite broken yet, my master. I had thought he would be by now, but he is remarkably defiant. Perhaps you would like to help me." A hand came down to stroke Harry's hair from where he knelt on the floor, making him jump in suprise. Legolas laughed softly from above him. "You're coming along so nicely, little one. This would all stop if you would just agree to join us." His hand tightened in Harry's hair.
Harry gathered all his courage up. And spat in Legolas's face.
"Go to hell," he snarled. Legolas wiped the spittle off his cheek, shaking his head ruefully, and turned back to Sauron. Harry quickly looked back down at the floor.
"See, my master? He remains defiant even though I have tried all I could to break his spirit." Legolas sounded like he was smiling. "It would be...educating...to watch you break him for me." Harry felt his eyes widen, and his mind blanked with fear as he imagined what methods Sauron would use to break him. He reached up and grabbed one of Legolas's hands with both of his.
"Please," he whispered hoarsely. "Please don't give me to him. Please, Legolas!"
For a moment, there seemed to be an acute look of mingled suffering and horror in Legolas's eyes, but then it was gone so fast that Harry wondered if he had just imagined it. Legolas remained silent and Harry turned his attention on Sauron.
"Why?" He had meant it to be angry, but it sounded much too like a whimper.
Instead of answering, Sauron got up from his throne and strode forward, expression cruelly considering. He tipped Harry's chin up with one long, pale finger and forced Harry to look into those blood-red eyes. "You have changed much since the last time I saw you," Sauron said softly. "You were always so arrogant, with the protection of your almighty Manwe. How fortunate for me that he cannot protect you now, Eonwe." His smile was cold, but his tone had become slightly bitter. "I loved you once."
"You loved power!"
Harry gave a startled jerk when he heard the words coming out of his mouth, in that same two-tone voice he'd heard himself use at Orthanc. Sauron, for just a moment, had a slightly unguarded look before it became cynical.
"Of course. Olorin -- or as you know him, Gandalf -- must have been telling you things. You are not Eonwe, sweet, but I am sure he is trapped in there, somewhere." Sauron tapped a finger on Harry's temple. "How horrible that must be, to have another presence in your mind." And then he laughed, a coldly amused laugh that made Harry flinch. He thought he saw Legolas cringe, too.
"Take him back to his cells," Sauron said softly without looking back at Legolas, keeping his red eyes fastened onto Harry's and stroking a finger down Harry's cheek. "Warm him up for me, and perhaps I will give him a visit later." He gave Harry one last, condescending look and turned around in a swish of black robes. Harry didn't bother to raise a protest as the Orc came to tug on his leash and lead him back.
Later that day, when Legolas came with his whip and his new tortures, Harry didn't say a word, even as the blood dripped down his back and his legs and Legolas dripped sweat on him from above and made the cuts burn.
___________________
Harry had finally fallen to sleep when, not two hours later, the door to his cell swung open with a loud crash.
The dim form of Legolas was silhouetted in the doorway.
With a stab of panic, Harry shook his head. He couldn't do it. He couldn't, not again, please, he heard himself pleading.
Legolas's eyes were slightly wild, and he was breathing hard. His hands were shaking. "Harry, go. Now."
Harry stared at Legolas warily. Maybe this was a new type of torture. They'd tried other ways -- starvation, beatings, and...other, worse things. Besides, he didn't know if he could even stand now.
Legolas looked frantic. He grabbed Harry's hand to haul him to his feet, and a sharp stab of pain went through Harry's lower body. He doubled over in a crouch on the ground. Looking concerned, Legolas reached out a hand to stroke Harry's cheek. Harry flinched.
"Oh Harry...Harry, I'm so sorry."
Harry looked up in shock. Legolas had an expression of horror on his face as he looked at Harry's bleeding, abused body. He seemed sincere. And his eyes seemed...lighter. With effort, Harry pulled himself to his feet despite his body's protests. The whip was nowhere in sight.
"Go," Legolas whispered tightly, and pressed Harry's wand into the wizard's hand.
Harry hesitated, and Legolas snarled, raising his fist and driving it into Harry's stomach. It felt like someone threw a brick at him. Through his pain, he looked up at Legolas in confusion. Legolas shut his eyes and pointed to the door.
Tears filling his eyes, Harry ran.
_________________________________
Legolas slid down the door as he shut it after Harry. "Run, Harry" he said softly.
/Run, lovely? Where can he go?/
Shut up, Legolas growled. Touch him and I'll kill you.
That voice turned mocking and oily. /But I already touched him, little one. And wasn't he...delightful. All that smooth skin and those lovely eyes. He put up such a wonderful struggle for me...or should I say, for you./ The voice laughed. /He looks beautiful when he has been betrayed./
Shut up. It was a whisper this time. It didn't stop the voice.
/And then my Orcs will find him, and who knows what they will do to him before they return him to me. I think I shall keep him for myself. You will never get a chance like this again, because I will be much, much more careful. I thought I could calm you by letting you have a taste of his body, but it seems you are much stronger than I had percieved./ The voice sounded amused. /Although I am just sure you didn't enjoy that in the least -- seeing him gasping under you again. Anyway, in short, my sweet, you have just made it worse./
Legolas's eyes widened and, in his brief moment of weakness, that presence slithered its way back into the crevasses of his mind, the invisible fingers reaching out until they controlled him.
Back in his cage, Legolas wept silently, hoping against hope that somehow Harry had found his way out.
____________________________
The tears in Harry's eyes were making it hard to see as he stumbled his way down the dark stone corridor, which was lit only by torches that cast a strange reddish glow. He held his wand out in front of him like a sword, his wand arm wavering, his legs weak. The calf that had been sliced open was burning steadily now with every step he took. Harry's breath was coming so hard and labored that he was scared someone would hear it. And then he'd be taken back to -- to him, and Legolas would -- he stifled a sob and continued his slow journey down the passage.
Harry realized about ten minutes later that he had no idea where he was going, and that he could walk right into Sauron's throne room.
There were voices coming up the corridor.
Harry panicked. Thanking every deity he knew of that the passages weren't very well done, he crouched behind a craggy outcrop and waited. The rough Orc-voices grew nearer.
When they were so close that Harry could see the torch light the Orcs carried, he leaned out of his hiding place and pointed his wand. He was about to whisper the worse hexes and curses he knew when without warning his wand flashed a brilliant white. When the glare receded, the Orcs were on the ground, unmoving.
Harry stared out into the hallway, disbelieving. When it was totally apparent that the Orcs were dead, he crept out to them. Finding the smallest one he could, he stole a pair of pants and shirt for himself, even though he crinkled his noise at how filthy they were. They were too big still, but Harry didn't have time to search for a belt. He trudged his way on.
Not an hour later, Harry began to panic in earnest. He remembered all too well that time spent in the stronghold of Saruman: the endless dark, the crushing despair and defeat, the feeling of hopelessness. The walls seemed to close in on him. Maybe being with -- with Legolas would have been a preferable fate than this wandering. Wandering until some Orc patrol found him, or until Sauron did.
Then the thought struck him
Apparation.
Harry wanted to hit himself. Could he have possibly been any more stupid? He fixed a picture of the entrance to Cirith Ungol in his head, and lifted his wand.
He abruptly let it back down with a sigh.
He couldn't leave Legolas here. The thought of going back to Legolas made him want to retch, but there was no other way. He shut his eyes.
"Shit," he muttered, and slowly picked his way through the tunnel back to his cell.
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Harry paused outside the door with his wand raised, even if it was trembling a bit. There was light coming from the small window on the door and he thought he heard Legolas speaking. He had to take several deep, long breaths before he was calm enough to put his hand on the door and swing it open. As soon as the door started creaking laboriously, the voice stopped.
Legolas was sitting on the floor hunched over his knees, black hair obscuring his face; when the door opened his head flew up with an expression of startlement.
"Harry, you -" he started, and then his face twisted and changed from startled to amused. "You didn't run," he finished smoothly.
Harry kept his face stoic, but he felt a little part of him crumble inside from the disappointment of seeing Legolas not as he was when the elf had let Harry go. He had hoped...
"I'm here to take you back to Gondor with me," he said, and was amazed at how steady he kept his voice. Legolas's black eyes widened in suprise. His smile was not a nice one.
"Take me back with you, sweet? I do not think I can allow that, sadly. I'm afraid that you must stay here."
Harry took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "Stupefy."
Legolas crumpled to the floor, gracefully even while falling. Harry stared, astonished, at his unmoving body, sure that it could not possibly be this simple to escape Sauron's grip. Then again, he thought ruefully, he supposed he had once been as powerful as the Dark Lord himself. Maybe it wasn't just luck. That thought was very comforting.
Harry went forward and grabbed Legolas's arm, hauling the unconscious elf to his feet and putting an arm around Legolas's waist to support him. At that moment the door swung open.
Sauron was framed in the doorway.
Harry froze in shock as Sauron raised his hand and a great ball of fire shot out towards him. With the fireball speeding towards him and only a few seconds between escape and a horrible death, he raised his wand and shouted "Apparate!"
His last sight before the world around him spun was of a crimson flame.
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A/N: Ahhhh, that was so fun. *hugs chapter* I think I made a writer's breakthrough -- It's getting to be really, really fun to write. I mean, before, I was just writing to write, you know? Now I'm writing because I want to see what I make them do (I never stick to story outlines). And it's a blast. Plus, I'm sure (or hoping) the chapters are much better than they were before. Funny -- it started getting really good once I just hopped off the Tolkien storyline nearly completely.
By the way, most of this chapter was written while listening to the FFX soundtrack. S'why the mood switches so much. Am I a geek if I cried at the end of that game?