To all those wonderful people who urged me to continue to write: THANK YOU!
I cannot even measure the happiness I felt when I came home and saw six
new reviews that were so wonderful! I agree that I shouldn't go by number
of reviews (and I guess I don't press for a lot of reviews), but it always
cheers me up when I read a thoughtful review. I will continue to update as
quickly as I have before (as long as homework allows it!) because I
understand the lack of interest in a story where the author updates slowly.
I'm sorry for sounding so threatening and mean in that last message, but I
just wasn't having a good day (I was told I had a 25% chance of getting
into the college I really want to attend). However, I'm feeling better now
and to those dedicated readers I promise I will continue to update as
quickly as I can. I will finish the next chapter by the middle of next
week if possible because I do have various school matters that I need to
finish. Please, please continue to review and send in anything because I
really, really enjoy it! THANK YOU!!!
****
ELVISH DIALOGUE: Gurth an glamhoth: Death to the Orcs / Avo pedo: Silence / Gurth: Death / Noro lim: Ride faster
****
The various torches were brilliantly flaming in the wind that night she awoke, causing the bound she-Elf to catch a slight glimpse of the occurrences of the Orc's. Many were simply sitting down in the shadows, talking quietly in the black tongue and chuckling when a gruesome joke was made. Others were practicing their battle skills in the middle of the inflamed circle with their scimitars; Thrakdreg was squatting and silently watching these warriors, casually putting in input when he felt necessary. At one point, he stood up and forcefully grabbed the weapon from a weary Orc, yelling at it and seemingly threatening it with the poison tipped blade.
Haemerethwen looked down at her shoulder where the blade was still forced into her body: her grey clothes were soaked in blood from the wound and her entire shoulder area stung. Her body could not heal with the blade still within her flesh and she could already feel an infection surfacing from both poison and insects crawling around and introducing new diseases. 'Poison!' she thought as she glanced upon her other shoulder that still had not healed from the previous incidence in the cave. 'There must be poison affecting this wound, but the toxin must be diluted or else I surely would have been killed by now.'
She quietly struggled against the rope restraints, but the sharp pain quickly stopped her. She softly sighed and closed her eyes, wondering how she could escape from Thrakdreg once again. 'Legolas,' she painfully wondered, 'What has happened to the Prince?' Her heart ached to see his charming face once more as he comforted her through his beautiful voice. In her depression, she could almost hear the harmony he sung flow with the whistling wind, but her reality was distorted. 'It shall not be,' she depressingly thought, 'For he was eradicated by that filthy Orc.' Clenching her jaw, she glanced upwards at the disgusting leader who was backhanding a subordinate who disrespectfully talked back, rendering the rebel unconscious. 'He shall be avenged for,' she decided as she watched him roar in his power.
"Gurth an glamhoth," she annoyingly whispered while he roared. Thrakdreg immediately stopped mid-roar; he dropped his clenched fists from the air and slowly dropped his evil gaze upon her grey eyes. His black eyes blazed with the fury of the torches and he pointed one finger upon her accusingly. Slowly, he walked towards her with his arm still stretched towards her and his eyes slanting in his fury.
"Avo pedo!" he hoarsely whispered at her, his head slightly tilting to the side as he continued to creep closer. He pulled out a dagger when he was a step away from her, but he kept his eyes upon her, challenging her to dispute his command. She knitted her brow in anger and frowned at him.
"Gurth!" she loudly screamed into the night, not stopping until her voice cracked. She brought her eyes upon him once more and again challenged the Orc who was now seething with loathing. Then suddenly he snapped his hand out to her neck, choking her with his gripping fingers as they tightened around her fragile throat. She gasped out and anxiously tried to breathe, but his grip forced to gag.
"Do not test me, wench," he angrily stated to her, his eyes piercing her very soul. He brought the blade up to her sight and twirled it in her sight; smiling, he slowly brought it downwards until it rested between her thighs, the point of the dagger facing upwards and threatening to enter her. Haemerethwen tried to swallow and paled when she felt him prick her with the point. "I can force my power within you and easily remove what strength you falsely believe you contain," he violently whispered, the wickedness still lingering upon his lips.
"Thieve my body and you will ultimately annihilate my soul," she challengingly stated back at him. He chuckled at her and removed the blade from the threatening position.
"Haemerethwen, you will readily give yourself to me," he stated.
"No" she whispered, her eyes sharpening, "Another has claimed me." Thrakdreg's smile quickly dropped and his eyes cast over.
"You lie," he answered, "He claims only your already tainted lips." She shook her head, but she knew that it was a lie and that he could easily see through it. "Liar, liar," he passionately whispered. He brought the dagger up to her dry lips and looked into her fearful grey eyes. "He is lost; he is dead because his love was temporary and he cares not for emotion." He then sliced the dagger through the middle of her bottom lip, causing the blood to rush out from the semi-deep wound. Haemerethwen tightened her eyes in pain; the wound was deep enough to cut through the muscle and the pain was excruciating when she grimaced and her lip was stretched further.
Then he cut another slice in her bottom to the right of the last wound; then another and another until both upper and lower lips were covered in wounds ranging from deep slices to scratches. She slightly whimpered in the pain he inflicted, she could not move her lips without an intense pain arising. The blood rushed from her lips and flowed over her chin and down her neck until she could feel a slight trickle between her breasts.
Thrakdreg sickeningly smiled at her as he watched the blood stain her flawless skin and Haemerethwen watched as his mouth crept closer and closer towards her. Shaking her head, she tried to avoid his thirsty lips, but he grabbed upon her jaw and pulled her mouth towards him. His chapped lips intensified the pain she felt among her wounded lips and his pressing down upon her opened the wounds; the ripping of her flesh causing her to try and speak out against it. But soon she felt a violent pierce into her left shoulder and the outflow of blood again. She gasped in the reopening of the wound and struggled against Thrakdreg to be released from her position, but as he pushed down harder on her lips and twisted the blade to the side, she quickly stopped straining.
He pulled away quickly from her with eyes lingering upon her bleeding lips. Smiling upon her again, he left her in the agonizing position as the pain began to overwhelm her senses. Spots began to accumulate within her view and soon her body threatened to shut down from the excruciating pain inflicted upon it; her blood profusely spilled from her lips and both shoulders, causing her to again reel from loss of blood. And as her mind began to stop differentiating from reality and imagination, she again heard the melody of Legolas' voice beckoning her to remain strong because soon he would arrive.
****
"Noro lim," urged Firithostion to his courageous horse that was now sweating from the intensity of the journey that the Elf demanded of it. It was early morning and the Elf had traveled with his faithful horse throughout the adventurous night to assure that the Prince of Eryn Lasgalen would reach Rivendell in quick time. Firithostion glanced upon the unconscious Elf that was sitting in front of him; he still did not understand how it came to be that Legolas was attacked by a group of western Orcs.
The other two Elves had continued onward to deliver a message to Minas Tirith from the twins, leaving the dark-haired Firithostion to return Legolas to safety. He was now within twenty minutes from the beautiful city and he urged his horse faster; Legolas needed the twins' medical attention; luckily for Middle Earth, Elrond had left the two brothers with the his knowledge and skill of medicine so that Rivendell could remain a city that offered protection.
The sun was rising slowly over the horizon and the light showered upon the glorious landscape, allowing Firithostion to bask in its pleasantness. However, a soft groan from the injured Prince brought him back to reality and his task at hand. Legolas was returning to consciousness, but he was still not completely aware of his surroundings. His blue eyes took in the flashing scenery and soon he became nauseous from the rapidly changing sights. Fortunately, Firithostion pulled into Rivendell directly before Legolas would lose control, so the Prince did not humiliate himself.
Firithostion softly alighted from his horse and whistled into the morning air, sounding a warning to those within the House of Elrond. A guard quickly approached and accompanied the Elf in his task of carrying Legolas to the twins' presence, wheew hopefully the brothers would be able to attend the massive wounds afflicted upon the Prince.
"What has happened here?" asked the handsome dark-haired twin, Elladan, who was briskly walking towards Firithostion and the guard.
"The Prince of Eryn Lasgalen," answered Firithostion, "He was apparently attacked by a group of Orcs in the secret cave within the Misty Mountains." Elladan peered down at the drowsy Legolas and deeply frowned when he caught sight of the wounds upon chest, abdomen and nose. The chest and abdomen wound looked somewhat taken care of, but the facial wound was threatening and Elladan knew it would be difficult to restore the original beauty that Legolas once contained. 'Not impossible,' he thought, 'And with Elrohir we will make Father proud.'
"Quickly, bring him to my chamber," stated the twin anxiously, "I must find Elrohir." Elladan then quickly ran off, leaving Firithostion and the guard to continue to carry the semi-conscious Legolas to safety.
****
ELVISH DIALOGUE: Gurth an glamhoth: Death to the Orcs / Avo pedo: Silence / Gurth: Death / Noro lim: Ride faster
****
The various torches were brilliantly flaming in the wind that night she awoke, causing the bound she-Elf to catch a slight glimpse of the occurrences of the Orc's. Many were simply sitting down in the shadows, talking quietly in the black tongue and chuckling when a gruesome joke was made. Others were practicing their battle skills in the middle of the inflamed circle with their scimitars; Thrakdreg was squatting and silently watching these warriors, casually putting in input when he felt necessary. At one point, he stood up and forcefully grabbed the weapon from a weary Orc, yelling at it and seemingly threatening it with the poison tipped blade.
Haemerethwen looked down at her shoulder where the blade was still forced into her body: her grey clothes were soaked in blood from the wound and her entire shoulder area stung. Her body could not heal with the blade still within her flesh and she could already feel an infection surfacing from both poison and insects crawling around and introducing new diseases. 'Poison!' she thought as she glanced upon her other shoulder that still had not healed from the previous incidence in the cave. 'There must be poison affecting this wound, but the toxin must be diluted or else I surely would have been killed by now.'
She quietly struggled against the rope restraints, but the sharp pain quickly stopped her. She softly sighed and closed her eyes, wondering how she could escape from Thrakdreg once again. 'Legolas,' she painfully wondered, 'What has happened to the Prince?' Her heart ached to see his charming face once more as he comforted her through his beautiful voice. In her depression, she could almost hear the harmony he sung flow with the whistling wind, but her reality was distorted. 'It shall not be,' she depressingly thought, 'For he was eradicated by that filthy Orc.' Clenching her jaw, she glanced upwards at the disgusting leader who was backhanding a subordinate who disrespectfully talked back, rendering the rebel unconscious. 'He shall be avenged for,' she decided as she watched him roar in his power.
"Gurth an glamhoth," she annoyingly whispered while he roared. Thrakdreg immediately stopped mid-roar; he dropped his clenched fists from the air and slowly dropped his evil gaze upon her grey eyes. His black eyes blazed with the fury of the torches and he pointed one finger upon her accusingly. Slowly, he walked towards her with his arm still stretched towards her and his eyes slanting in his fury.
"Avo pedo!" he hoarsely whispered at her, his head slightly tilting to the side as he continued to creep closer. He pulled out a dagger when he was a step away from her, but he kept his eyes upon her, challenging her to dispute his command. She knitted her brow in anger and frowned at him.
"Gurth!" she loudly screamed into the night, not stopping until her voice cracked. She brought her eyes upon him once more and again challenged the Orc who was now seething with loathing. Then suddenly he snapped his hand out to her neck, choking her with his gripping fingers as they tightened around her fragile throat. She gasped out and anxiously tried to breathe, but his grip forced to gag.
"Do not test me, wench," he angrily stated to her, his eyes piercing her very soul. He brought the blade up to her sight and twirled it in her sight; smiling, he slowly brought it downwards until it rested between her thighs, the point of the dagger facing upwards and threatening to enter her. Haemerethwen tried to swallow and paled when she felt him prick her with the point. "I can force my power within you and easily remove what strength you falsely believe you contain," he violently whispered, the wickedness still lingering upon his lips.
"Thieve my body and you will ultimately annihilate my soul," she challengingly stated back at him. He chuckled at her and removed the blade from the threatening position.
"Haemerethwen, you will readily give yourself to me," he stated.
"No" she whispered, her eyes sharpening, "Another has claimed me." Thrakdreg's smile quickly dropped and his eyes cast over.
"You lie," he answered, "He claims only your already tainted lips." She shook her head, but she knew that it was a lie and that he could easily see through it. "Liar, liar," he passionately whispered. He brought the dagger up to her dry lips and looked into her fearful grey eyes. "He is lost; he is dead because his love was temporary and he cares not for emotion." He then sliced the dagger through the middle of her bottom lip, causing the blood to rush out from the semi-deep wound. Haemerethwen tightened her eyes in pain; the wound was deep enough to cut through the muscle and the pain was excruciating when she grimaced and her lip was stretched further.
Then he cut another slice in her bottom to the right of the last wound; then another and another until both upper and lower lips were covered in wounds ranging from deep slices to scratches. She slightly whimpered in the pain he inflicted, she could not move her lips without an intense pain arising. The blood rushed from her lips and flowed over her chin and down her neck until she could feel a slight trickle between her breasts.
Thrakdreg sickeningly smiled at her as he watched the blood stain her flawless skin and Haemerethwen watched as his mouth crept closer and closer towards her. Shaking her head, she tried to avoid his thirsty lips, but he grabbed upon her jaw and pulled her mouth towards him. His chapped lips intensified the pain she felt among her wounded lips and his pressing down upon her opened the wounds; the ripping of her flesh causing her to try and speak out against it. But soon she felt a violent pierce into her left shoulder and the outflow of blood again. She gasped in the reopening of the wound and struggled against Thrakdreg to be released from her position, but as he pushed down harder on her lips and twisted the blade to the side, she quickly stopped straining.
He pulled away quickly from her with eyes lingering upon her bleeding lips. Smiling upon her again, he left her in the agonizing position as the pain began to overwhelm her senses. Spots began to accumulate within her view and soon her body threatened to shut down from the excruciating pain inflicted upon it; her blood profusely spilled from her lips and both shoulders, causing her to again reel from loss of blood. And as her mind began to stop differentiating from reality and imagination, she again heard the melody of Legolas' voice beckoning her to remain strong because soon he would arrive.
****
"Noro lim," urged Firithostion to his courageous horse that was now sweating from the intensity of the journey that the Elf demanded of it. It was early morning and the Elf had traveled with his faithful horse throughout the adventurous night to assure that the Prince of Eryn Lasgalen would reach Rivendell in quick time. Firithostion glanced upon the unconscious Elf that was sitting in front of him; he still did not understand how it came to be that Legolas was attacked by a group of western Orcs.
The other two Elves had continued onward to deliver a message to Minas Tirith from the twins, leaving the dark-haired Firithostion to return Legolas to safety. He was now within twenty minutes from the beautiful city and he urged his horse faster; Legolas needed the twins' medical attention; luckily for Middle Earth, Elrond had left the two brothers with the his knowledge and skill of medicine so that Rivendell could remain a city that offered protection.
The sun was rising slowly over the horizon and the light showered upon the glorious landscape, allowing Firithostion to bask in its pleasantness. However, a soft groan from the injured Prince brought him back to reality and his task at hand. Legolas was returning to consciousness, but he was still not completely aware of his surroundings. His blue eyes took in the flashing scenery and soon he became nauseous from the rapidly changing sights. Fortunately, Firithostion pulled into Rivendell directly before Legolas would lose control, so the Prince did not humiliate himself.
Firithostion softly alighted from his horse and whistled into the morning air, sounding a warning to those within the House of Elrond. A guard quickly approached and accompanied the Elf in his task of carrying Legolas to the twins' presence, wheew hopefully the brothers would be able to attend the massive wounds afflicted upon the Prince.
"What has happened here?" asked the handsome dark-haired twin, Elladan, who was briskly walking towards Firithostion and the guard.
"The Prince of Eryn Lasgalen," answered Firithostion, "He was apparently attacked by a group of Orcs in the secret cave within the Misty Mountains." Elladan peered down at the drowsy Legolas and deeply frowned when he caught sight of the wounds upon chest, abdomen and nose. The chest and abdomen wound looked somewhat taken care of, but the facial wound was threatening and Elladan knew it would be difficult to restore the original beauty that Legolas once contained. 'Not impossible,' he thought, 'And with Elrohir we will make Father proud.'
"Quickly, bring him to my chamber," stated the twin anxiously, "I must find Elrohir." Elladan then quickly ran off, leaving Firithostion and the guard to continue to carry the semi-conscious Legolas to safety.