Not many reviews about that last chapter, but perhaps it was due to my
uploading it when fanfiction.net was having problems with itself. Anyways,
please continue to review; the next chapter will be the action-filled one.
I have glanced over the previous chapters, but I have been too busy to really look deeply into them. The only major aspect I changed was that of "Mirkwood" to "Eryn Lasgalen." I recently found out that after the War of the Ring, Mirkwood was renamed Eryn Lasgalen. So, I have altered that aspect. Other than that, nothing was too changed, but I will still be looking over it.
****
"The sun is dying, Legolas, and we are still left with no knowledge of a direction that will lead to her," stated Elladan, placing his hand upon the Prince's shoulder. Indeed, the sun was lowering in the far West and the world rejoiced its departure with a display of yellows and pinks contrasting the darker blue. The shadows were already creeping towards the group of Elves and it would not be long until shelter would be needed.
"There must be a clue," stated the Prince as he stepped away from the twin's comforting grasp and continued to scour the land around him. However, fresh snow covered the tracks of the horde of Orcs and nothing offered the discouraged Elves a solution to where Haemerethwen may have been taken.
Elrohir sighed as a brisk breeze picked up the powder snow, floating the white substance around his body. He closed his eyes as the flakes began to softly melt upon his warm face, allowing the clear liquid to trickle down his face. He had been sitting upon a particular rock for the past hour, watching the desperate Legolas tirelessly scavenger the land around Glrofindel's cave. There was no hint as to where the Orcs had traveled to, but Legolas would not surrender his hope.
"Legolas, we will continue our search tomorrow," declared Elrohir as he stood up from the rock and stretched his muscles. However, the Prince pretended not to hear the twin's command and ventured further down the mountain. Elrohir was about to call out to the Elf when Elladan quickly drew his arm around his brother's shoulders, silencing him.
"Let him be," stated Elladan, "He now only follows his heart." Elrohir glanced one last time at his descending friend before nodding in agreement and urging his Elven companions within the cave.
****
Legolas stood in the middle of the path and sighed in frustration; he had not been able to detect a single clue as to where the Orcs had traveled. It was highly unlike a group of those creatures to travel without being noticed, but somehow this group had completely foiled the Elves. The fear of forever losing Haemerethwen was becoming nourished by the Orcs' deception of the land, leaving the Prince more and more desperate for a clue.
The sun had now set and the comforting colors had now deserted the sky, leaving only darkness to accompany the Elf as he blindly searched for anything. However, as before, his keen eyes found nothing to soothe his aching fear and apprehension continued to replace his confidence. The wind had grown stronger as the sun had fled and it whipped through the Elf's hair as he silently stood along the path. A thread of hair flicked into his eye, temporarily blinding the Prince and forcing him to close his eyes. Blinking his eyes to soothe them, he soon began to focus less on sight and more on sound.
The whistle of the wind through the leaves caught Legolas' ears, reminding him again of the gruesome scream that still echoed within his mind. Closing his eyes, he listened as the wind breathed and whispered to him, providing him with advice that was previously left unseen. Soon, he could hear the gentle distortion of a voice flowing and changing pitch with the strengthening wind, beckoning him.
"Legolas! Arrive and free me of this torture!"
It was her voice, but not disturbed by the violent scream he so often heard. However, it was strained and, even though it sounded so far away, he could comprehend the pain being inflicted upon her. He clenched his jaw tightly as the image of the raging fire flashed back into his sight; he could no longer bear to let her suffer.
"Legolas!"
Opening his eyes slowly, he trembled slightly as his mind returned to reality and the force of the strong wind hit his lithe body. His chest wound ached in the coldness and his arm had become stiff from constant movement. Glancing one last time around, he slowly turned to return to the cave, but instead turned directly into another being. Jumping backwards instinctively, he quickly grabbed upon his Elven daggers and raised them in the protective stance.
"Legolas," stated Elrohir, a slight fear displayed within his eyes. Legolas lowered his daggers, slightly surprised that the Elf was able to creep behind him and startle him. "I have been calling your name for the past five minutes," the twin stated, "You did not respond even when I stood but ten feet away."
"I was slightly distracted," stated Legolas, trying to hide his humiliation of being so caught off-guard. He sheathed his blades behind his back and then raised his eyes to the Elf, his eyebrows raised as the twin showed a silent seriousness. "Has something happened, Elrohir?"
"Aye," he anxiously stated, quickly grabbing onto Legolas' arm and pulling him up the path.
"What is the matter?" asked the Prince nervously. Elrohir did not respond, but stopped and turned around to face Legolas about eighty feet above where they had previously stood. Standing upon a cliff, Elrohir directed his grey eyes upon the other Elf's blue ones.
"We have found her, Legolas," he stated, a small smile showing upon his lips as he pointed behind the Prince. Perplexed, Legolas slowly turned his head around and happiness suddenly plucked his heart. Within the darkness of the surrounding land, a fire flared silently.
*********
Haemerethwen glanced in fear at the fire that was raging in the center of the circle of the loathsome Orcs. The creatures had been working stealthily to bring more wood to the building fire, eventually violently breaking off branches from the nearby trees to force the fire to become so strong that even the she-Elf, twenty feet away, could feel the force of its flame. The Orcs were slowly gathering around the fire, their whooping calls to those in the forest dragging creatures that were more horrendous back to the camp.
The apprehension of Thrakdreg's words silently grew within the she- Elf as the fire flamed; the previous nights' fires had been quiet and small, not bringing unwanted attention to it. She could not find the Orc leader within the surrounding area, but perhaps he was on the other side of the fire where the flame was too large to peer over.
She slowly closed her eyes, more due to pain and drowsiness than to not desiring to see what the Orcs had planned for her. The pain became slightly numbed as her senses reeled from the amount of blood loss over the past days; her thoughts varied from delusions to actual reality as her mind struggled to remind her of her disturbing position. Yet, the debilitating pain again resurfaced as she shifted her body, allowing the white dots to again visit her view. Clenching her jaw, she forced her mind off the pain and fear, allowing her thoughts to drift of an illogical imagination.
Soon the blackness that enveloped her sight lifted to portray a single Elf against a backdrop of white. He was searching the land with his eyes as he walked along a path, stopping occasionally to peer at the snow and the nature surrounding him. Her heart skipped a beat as the sight drew closer to him, allowing her to realize that it was indeed Legolas. His blue eyes showed turmoil as he stopped along the path; his pale face could not hide the burden that lay heavily within his heart and his depressing frown only certified it.
Temporarily forgetting where she was located, she desperately tried to reach out and touch his face in an attempt to soothe his qualms. However, her movement resulted in a sharp pain originating from her shoulder, causing her to clench her eyes tighter in the sensation. Her reaction unfocused her view of the Prince and soon she realized that he was fading away from her; she distraughtly tried to force her mind to remain unbalanced so that he would not disappear. Surely enough, the pain raged through her body, disrupting her ill mind and breaking the strength of the illusion. In a last attempt to reach him, she cried out within her mind:
"Legolas! Arrive and free me from this torture!"
Instead, darkness replaced the comforting scene, forcing the she-Elf to retrieve her mind and return it to reality. She breathed in deeply, sucking in the smoke filled air and reminding her of what lay before her. Opening her eyes, the fear flickered with the flame as she watched the vile creatures stop whooping and turn their yellow eyes upon a hidden figure. Soon, black and sinister language began to ebb upon the crackling of the fire, gradually heightening in pitch as the climax of the speech broke through.
A burst of questions then shot into the crowd, resulting in a tremendous response from the crowd of Orcs. The creatures erupted in a vicious excitement, roaring into the dark night and shaking their fists into the air. Haemerethwen involuntarily shivered at the disturbing sound, fear emitting from her mind and circulating her entire body. She then watched as the leader stepped from behind the flame, a wickedness being portrayed that was unlike any other she had witnessed before. The fear within her sparked and her eyes began to widen as he began to stalk closer to her.
"Tonight we shall unmask you," he shouted at her over the flames, "As well as mark you." The crowd behind began to whoop at this declaration as they hurriedly followed behind their leader, eager to glance upon the suffering of the she-Elf. She tried to swallow down her anticipation of what harm would be caused to her, but the emotion was too large and caused her to instead choke upon the tremendous mass. Her mind reeled as Thrakdreg walked closer and closer, the maliciousness finally being portrayed.
He then stopped and turned around to his glaring and disgusting horde of followers. Pumping his fist into the air, he screamed out into the night and instigated more fuel to burst into the erupting flame. The Orcs yelled back at their leader, their smiles displaying the evil thoughts that reigned in their minds. Thrakdreg then held out his hand to a nearby Orc, which was readily filled by an object that immediately caused Haemerethwen's horror to nearly triple.
Ignoring the pain, she violently struggled against the rope binding her to the tree, causing her wounds to open more and allow more blood to flow outwards. Her shoulders stung out in the pain she caused as she tried to rip herself away from the existence of the Orcs, but the knots were too strong and soon the pain became so vicious that her mind and body soon screamed against her. The Orcs watched her with heightened interest, enjoying the harm she caused herself by trying to escape. An Orc then drew a dagger and, smiling at her, ripped her shirt from the neck to above her navel.
"I shall be revenged, filthy Orc," she spat at Thrakdreg as he drew in closer. The Orc laughed at her, his hideous eyes lighting up in the retaliation she valiantly offered. The desperation and panic that showed in the she-Elf's eyes surrendered her pride. He took a step closer to her and the pained Elf stared in horror at the object he held in his hand, her eyes glistening in anticipation of what anguish it would cause.
Then suddenly it was upon her, searing the flesh to the medial side of her left breast. The pain it inflicted upon her was unlike any she had felt before, the sensation of the red-hot iron being pressed into her smooth skin forced her face to contort in pain. She desperately tried to maintain the scream that was accumulating within her lungs, but her mind cried for release. She could taste the bile rising to the roof of her mouth as she smelled her flesh burn against the iron, but the feel of her skin literally peeling away from the heat of the metal and allowing both fat and muscle to understand the extent of the heat sent ripples of pain through her body.
She grew nauseous as he dug into her flesh harder; the scent of scalded flesh soon overwhelming her senses and her body beginning to convulse in attempt to control the pain raging through her body. She could no longer withhold the pain induced cry; the sound of her anguish soared from her lips as the continuous horror was heard. It was music to the ears of the Orcs, allowing Thrakdreg to revel in her lyrics as he pressed harder into her flesh. Her body continued to convulse against the iron as her lungs expelled the vicious air from her inflicted body, but the Orc would not relieve her body of the pain.
"Legolas!" she yelled in agony into the night, tears freely falling down her blood and dirt stained face.
********
"We must hurry," urged Elladan to the group of Elves that easily ran on top of the snow, "It is a one day run to the Trollshaws." The Imladris Elves nodded in agreement, anticipation shining in their eyes as their nimble feet ran down the path. Elrohir and Legolas were further down the mountains than Elladan and the rest of the Elves, but Elladan understood that Legolas would not be able to travel at the pace he was traveling now. It was not possible for the Elf with such harm to run this fast.
Sure enough, Elladan had caught up to the Prince and his brother after an hour of running; Legolas was pale and holding his chest wound with his hand, but his blue eyes flashed in the moonlight of a determination to reach the western wood as quickly as possible. "We should rest soon, Elrohir," whispered Elladan as he ran up beside his brother. Elrohir peered at him with an amused smile upon his lips.
"I would not deem that possible," he whispered back, "For Legolas will not delay our traveling."
"He will only harm himself more," Elladan whispered back nervously.
"He cares not for himself," Elrohir whispered back, directing his eyes behind his brother and staring at the resolute Prince. Elladan also turned his eyes to look upon the Prince who had dropped his hand from his wound and was easily running with the rest of the Elves. His blonde hair whipped behind him as he silently ran and stared forward, his face stout and grim. The twins admired the strength of the Prince of Eryn Lasgalen, who now dedicated himself to rescue his tormented companion.
The Elves continued to run down the steep slopes of the Misty Mountains, forcing their bodies to ignore the increasing pain developing throughout their tired bodies. Legolas would continuously grasp onto his chest, calming his body through the thoughts of annihilating the creatures that were torturing Haemerethwen. However, soon the pain grew to a climax and he twisted his face in the frustration of his inhibition. He hunched his shoulders slightly in an effort to decrease the pain, but the action only brought Elrohir's attention to him.
"I must walk," stated the twin as he stifled his quick pace and began to walk with his hands on his hips. The other Elves slowly stopped running, confused over why Elrohir had tired so quickly. Elladan glanced over at Legolas, who was clenching onto his chest wound and breathing louder than was usual for the warrior; he immediately understood Elrohir's actions.
"I need the rest as well," added Elladan as he pulled out his pouch filled with miruvor, the clear and pleasantly smelling liquid that revived and strengthened him. After taking a sip, he quickly offered it to Legolas, who gladly accepted.
"How far now?" asked Legolas as he handed the pouch back to Elladan.
"Still a distance," returned Elrohir. Legolas nodded his head, but hid his annoyance in not being able to travel further to reach Haemerethwen quicker than usual. He closed his eyes as he walked down the lower part of the mountain, enjoying the scent of the wood that was now replacing the barren and snow filled land of the upper slopes. His heart felt less dread in now understanding where the she-Elf had been captured to, but the fear would not lie dormant for long. Breathing in deeply, Legolas forced the thoughts of his pain further away and instead concentrated on the comforting pace they were now traveling in.
Legolas then smiled as Elrohir's laughter flowed through the air, quelling the anguish that was developing within him. He opened his eyes to see Elladan red from humiliation and Elrohir pointing and laughing at him, a look of mirth and wickedness both expressed within his smile.
"You are a wretched liar, Elrohir!" spat out Elladan as he tried to grab hold of his brother. Elrohir was too quick and easily evaded his hold and only began to laugh harder at his brother. Elladan growled in anger and attempted to grab onto him again, but he was stopped by a gruesome scream splitting the air around them.
All the Elves stopped, fear etched within their face as they involuntarily listened to the tortured scream. Legolas stumbled and clasped his hands over his ears, trying to dull the memorable sound that only invoked his inner thoughts. He could not understand if his mind, so weary from the running, was merely deceiving him yet again and forcing him to relive the horrible sound of her scream. Falling down to his knees, his sight returned to that same scene: the raging fire and the black creatures roaring into the night. Clenching his eyes shut, he shook his head, trying to dispel the vicious delusions from his mind.
Yet, then he heard his name yelled clear and true into the night. Forcing the scene to dissipate, he dropped his hands from his ears and listened to her trembling voice. Her scream admitted the pain she was succumbing to, forcing Legolas to acknowledge it as well. Fear arose within him, strangling the serenity of the night. His heart beat faster in listening to her agony; he could not bear to hear the dreadful sound of one in harm, especially one who he had promised to protect. Yet, now he looked beyond the simple promise of protection and considered more of what she meant to him personally. In a moment of change, Legolas' mind dispelled the delusions that haunted him and instead surpassed the past by agreeing to a future.
As her scream died down, Legolas stood up with more determination to free Haemerethwen. He quickly ran off, leaving the other Elves behind as they continued to fear what may have become of the she-Elf. However, Elladan noticed his departure and, shouting out, alerted the rest of the group to follow the Prince.
****
Galadriel Lorien: I would love to read your fictions if you could tell me the names!
Night Interlude: I am glad that you liked the discussion between the twins and Legolas; did you get the chance to read chapter seventeen?
I have glanced over the previous chapters, but I have been too busy to really look deeply into them. The only major aspect I changed was that of "Mirkwood" to "Eryn Lasgalen." I recently found out that after the War of the Ring, Mirkwood was renamed Eryn Lasgalen. So, I have altered that aspect. Other than that, nothing was too changed, but I will still be looking over it.
****
"The sun is dying, Legolas, and we are still left with no knowledge of a direction that will lead to her," stated Elladan, placing his hand upon the Prince's shoulder. Indeed, the sun was lowering in the far West and the world rejoiced its departure with a display of yellows and pinks contrasting the darker blue. The shadows were already creeping towards the group of Elves and it would not be long until shelter would be needed.
"There must be a clue," stated the Prince as he stepped away from the twin's comforting grasp and continued to scour the land around him. However, fresh snow covered the tracks of the horde of Orcs and nothing offered the discouraged Elves a solution to where Haemerethwen may have been taken.
Elrohir sighed as a brisk breeze picked up the powder snow, floating the white substance around his body. He closed his eyes as the flakes began to softly melt upon his warm face, allowing the clear liquid to trickle down his face. He had been sitting upon a particular rock for the past hour, watching the desperate Legolas tirelessly scavenger the land around Glrofindel's cave. There was no hint as to where the Orcs had traveled to, but Legolas would not surrender his hope.
"Legolas, we will continue our search tomorrow," declared Elrohir as he stood up from the rock and stretched his muscles. However, the Prince pretended not to hear the twin's command and ventured further down the mountain. Elrohir was about to call out to the Elf when Elladan quickly drew his arm around his brother's shoulders, silencing him.
"Let him be," stated Elladan, "He now only follows his heart." Elrohir glanced one last time at his descending friend before nodding in agreement and urging his Elven companions within the cave.
****
Legolas stood in the middle of the path and sighed in frustration; he had not been able to detect a single clue as to where the Orcs had traveled. It was highly unlike a group of those creatures to travel without being noticed, but somehow this group had completely foiled the Elves. The fear of forever losing Haemerethwen was becoming nourished by the Orcs' deception of the land, leaving the Prince more and more desperate for a clue.
The sun had now set and the comforting colors had now deserted the sky, leaving only darkness to accompany the Elf as he blindly searched for anything. However, as before, his keen eyes found nothing to soothe his aching fear and apprehension continued to replace his confidence. The wind had grown stronger as the sun had fled and it whipped through the Elf's hair as he silently stood along the path. A thread of hair flicked into his eye, temporarily blinding the Prince and forcing him to close his eyes. Blinking his eyes to soothe them, he soon began to focus less on sight and more on sound.
The whistle of the wind through the leaves caught Legolas' ears, reminding him again of the gruesome scream that still echoed within his mind. Closing his eyes, he listened as the wind breathed and whispered to him, providing him with advice that was previously left unseen. Soon, he could hear the gentle distortion of a voice flowing and changing pitch with the strengthening wind, beckoning him.
"Legolas! Arrive and free me of this torture!"
It was her voice, but not disturbed by the violent scream he so often heard. However, it was strained and, even though it sounded so far away, he could comprehend the pain being inflicted upon her. He clenched his jaw tightly as the image of the raging fire flashed back into his sight; he could no longer bear to let her suffer.
"Legolas!"
Opening his eyes slowly, he trembled slightly as his mind returned to reality and the force of the strong wind hit his lithe body. His chest wound ached in the coldness and his arm had become stiff from constant movement. Glancing one last time around, he slowly turned to return to the cave, but instead turned directly into another being. Jumping backwards instinctively, he quickly grabbed upon his Elven daggers and raised them in the protective stance.
"Legolas," stated Elrohir, a slight fear displayed within his eyes. Legolas lowered his daggers, slightly surprised that the Elf was able to creep behind him and startle him. "I have been calling your name for the past five minutes," the twin stated, "You did not respond even when I stood but ten feet away."
"I was slightly distracted," stated Legolas, trying to hide his humiliation of being so caught off-guard. He sheathed his blades behind his back and then raised his eyes to the Elf, his eyebrows raised as the twin showed a silent seriousness. "Has something happened, Elrohir?"
"Aye," he anxiously stated, quickly grabbing onto Legolas' arm and pulling him up the path.
"What is the matter?" asked the Prince nervously. Elrohir did not respond, but stopped and turned around to face Legolas about eighty feet above where they had previously stood. Standing upon a cliff, Elrohir directed his grey eyes upon the other Elf's blue ones.
"We have found her, Legolas," he stated, a small smile showing upon his lips as he pointed behind the Prince. Perplexed, Legolas slowly turned his head around and happiness suddenly plucked his heart. Within the darkness of the surrounding land, a fire flared silently.
*********
Haemerethwen glanced in fear at the fire that was raging in the center of the circle of the loathsome Orcs. The creatures had been working stealthily to bring more wood to the building fire, eventually violently breaking off branches from the nearby trees to force the fire to become so strong that even the she-Elf, twenty feet away, could feel the force of its flame. The Orcs were slowly gathering around the fire, their whooping calls to those in the forest dragging creatures that were more horrendous back to the camp.
The apprehension of Thrakdreg's words silently grew within the she- Elf as the fire flamed; the previous nights' fires had been quiet and small, not bringing unwanted attention to it. She could not find the Orc leader within the surrounding area, but perhaps he was on the other side of the fire where the flame was too large to peer over.
She slowly closed her eyes, more due to pain and drowsiness than to not desiring to see what the Orcs had planned for her. The pain became slightly numbed as her senses reeled from the amount of blood loss over the past days; her thoughts varied from delusions to actual reality as her mind struggled to remind her of her disturbing position. Yet, the debilitating pain again resurfaced as she shifted her body, allowing the white dots to again visit her view. Clenching her jaw, she forced her mind off the pain and fear, allowing her thoughts to drift of an illogical imagination.
Soon the blackness that enveloped her sight lifted to portray a single Elf against a backdrop of white. He was searching the land with his eyes as he walked along a path, stopping occasionally to peer at the snow and the nature surrounding him. Her heart skipped a beat as the sight drew closer to him, allowing her to realize that it was indeed Legolas. His blue eyes showed turmoil as he stopped along the path; his pale face could not hide the burden that lay heavily within his heart and his depressing frown only certified it.
Temporarily forgetting where she was located, she desperately tried to reach out and touch his face in an attempt to soothe his qualms. However, her movement resulted in a sharp pain originating from her shoulder, causing her to clench her eyes tighter in the sensation. Her reaction unfocused her view of the Prince and soon she realized that he was fading away from her; she distraughtly tried to force her mind to remain unbalanced so that he would not disappear. Surely enough, the pain raged through her body, disrupting her ill mind and breaking the strength of the illusion. In a last attempt to reach him, she cried out within her mind:
"Legolas! Arrive and free me from this torture!"
Instead, darkness replaced the comforting scene, forcing the she-Elf to retrieve her mind and return it to reality. She breathed in deeply, sucking in the smoke filled air and reminding her of what lay before her. Opening her eyes, the fear flickered with the flame as she watched the vile creatures stop whooping and turn their yellow eyes upon a hidden figure. Soon, black and sinister language began to ebb upon the crackling of the fire, gradually heightening in pitch as the climax of the speech broke through.
A burst of questions then shot into the crowd, resulting in a tremendous response from the crowd of Orcs. The creatures erupted in a vicious excitement, roaring into the dark night and shaking their fists into the air. Haemerethwen involuntarily shivered at the disturbing sound, fear emitting from her mind and circulating her entire body. She then watched as the leader stepped from behind the flame, a wickedness being portrayed that was unlike any other she had witnessed before. The fear within her sparked and her eyes began to widen as he began to stalk closer to her.
"Tonight we shall unmask you," he shouted at her over the flames, "As well as mark you." The crowd behind began to whoop at this declaration as they hurriedly followed behind their leader, eager to glance upon the suffering of the she-Elf. She tried to swallow down her anticipation of what harm would be caused to her, but the emotion was too large and caused her to instead choke upon the tremendous mass. Her mind reeled as Thrakdreg walked closer and closer, the maliciousness finally being portrayed.
He then stopped and turned around to his glaring and disgusting horde of followers. Pumping his fist into the air, he screamed out into the night and instigated more fuel to burst into the erupting flame. The Orcs yelled back at their leader, their smiles displaying the evil thoughts that reigned in their minds. Thrakdreg then held out his hand to a nearby Orc, which was readily filled by an object that immediately caused Haemerethwen's horror to nearly triple.
Ignoring the pain, she violently struggled against the rope binding her to the tree, causing her wounds to open more and allow more blood to flow outwards. Her shoulders stung out in the pain she caused as she tried to rip herself away from the existence of the Orcs, but the knots were too strong and soon the pain became so vicious that her mind and body soon screamed against her. The Orcs watched her with heightened interest, enjoying the harm she caused herself by trying to escape. An Orc then drew a dagger and, smiling at her, ripped her shirt from the neck to above her navel.
"I shall be revenged, filthy Orc," she spat at Thrakdreg as he drew in closer. The Orc laughed at her, his hideous eyes lighting up in the retaliation she valiantly offered. The desperation and panic that showed in the she-Elf's eyes surrendered her pride. He took a step closer to her and the pained Elf stared in horror at the object he held in his hand, her eyes glistening in anticipation of what anguish it would cause.
Then suddenly it was upon her, searing the flesh to the medial side of her left breast. The pain it inflicted upon her was unlike any she had felt before, the sensation of the red-hot iron being pressed into her smooth skin forced her face to contort in pain. She desperately tried to maintain the scream that was accumulating within her lungs, but her mind cried for release. She could taste the bile rising to the roof of her mouth as she smelled her flesh burn against the iron, but the feel of her skin literally peeling away from the heat of the metal and allowing both fat and muscle to understand the extent of the heat sent ripples of pain through her body.
She grew nauseous as he dug into her flesh harder; the scent of scalded flesh soon overwhelming her senses and her body beginning to convulse in attempt to control the pain raging through her body. She could no longer withhold the pain induced cry; the sound of her anguish soared from her lips as the continuous horror was heard. It was music to the ears of the Orcs, allowing Thrakdreg to revel in her lyrics as he pressed harder into her flesh. Her body continued to convulse against the iron as her lungs expelled the vicious air from her inflicted body, but the Orc would not relieve her body of the pain.
"Legolas!" she yelled in agony into the night, tears freely falling down her blood and dirt stained face.
********
"We must hurry," urged Elladan to the group of Elves that easily ran on top of the snow, "It is a one day run to the Trollshaws." The Imladris Elves nodded in agreement, anticipation shining in their eyes as their nimble feet ran down the path. Elrohir and Legolas were further down the mountains than Elladan and the rest of the Elves, but Elladan understood that Legolas would not be able to travel at the pace he was traveling now. It was not possible for the Elf with such harm to run this fast.
Sure enough, Elladan had caught up to the Prince and his brother after an hour of running; Legolas was pale and holding his chest wound with his hand, but his blue eyes flashed in the moonlight of a determination to reach the western wood as quickly as possible. "We should rest soon, Elrohir," whispered Elladan as he ran up beside his brother. Elrohir peered at him with an amused smile upon his lips.
"I would not deem that possible," he whispered back, "For Legolas will not delay our traveling."
"He will only harm himself more," Elladan whispered back nervously.
"He cares not for himself," Elrohir whispered back, directing his eyes behind his brother and staring at the resolute Prince. Elladan also turned his eyes to look upon the Prince who had dropped his hand from his wound and was easily running with the rest of the Elves. His blonde hair whipped behind him as he silently ran and stared forward, his face stout and grim. The twins admired the strength of the Prince of Eryn Lasgalen, who now dedicated himself to rescue his tormented companion.
The Elves continued to run down the steep slopes of the Misty Mountains, forcing their bodies to ignore the increasing pain developing throughout their tired bodies. Legolas would continuously grasp onto his chest, calming his body through the thoughts of annihilating the creatures that were torturing Haemerethwen. However, soon the pain grew to a climax and he twisted his face in the frustration of his inhibition. He hunched his shoulders slightly in an effort to decrease the pain, but the action only brought Elrohir's attention to him.
"I must walk," stated the twin as he stifled his quick pace and began to walk with his hands on his hips. The other Elves slowly stopped running, confused over why Elrohir had tired so quickly. Elladan glanced over at Legolas, who was clenching onto his chest wound and breathing louder than was usual for the warrior; he immediately understood Elrohir's actions.
"I need the rest as well," added Elladan as he pulled out his pouch filled with miruvor, the clear and pleasantly smelling liquid that revived and strengthened him. After taking a sip, he quickly offered it to Legolas, who gladly accepted.
"How far now?" asked Legolas as he handed the pouch back to Elladan.
"Still a distance," returned Elrohir. Legolas nodded his head, but hid his annoyance in not being able to travel further to reach Haemerethwen quicker than usual. He closed his eyes as he walked down the lower part of the mountain, enjoying the scent of the wood that was now replacing the barren and snow filled land of the upper slopes. His heart felt less dread in now understanding where the she-Elf had been captured to, but the fear would not lie dormant for long. Breathing in deeply, Legolas forced the thoughts of his pain further away and instead concentrated on the comforting pace they were now traveling in.
Legolas then smiled as Elrohir's laughter flowed through the air, quelling the anguish that was developing within him. He opened his eyes to see Elladan red from humiliation and Elrohir pointing and laughing at him, a look of mirth and wickedness both expressed within his smile.
"You are a wretched liar, Elrohir!" spat out Elladan as he tried to grab hold of his brother. Elrohir was too quick and easily evaded his hold and only began to laugh harder at his brother. Elladan growled in anger and attempted to grab onto him again, but he was stopped by a gruesome scream splitting the air around them.
All the Elves stopped, fear etched within their face as they involuntarily listened to the tortured scream. Legolas stumbled and clasped his hands over his ears, trying to dull the memorable sound that only invoked his inner thoughts. He could not understand if his mind, so weary from the running, was merely deceiving him yet again and forcing him to relive the horrible sound of her scream. Falling down to his knees, his sight returned to that same scene: the raging fire and the black creatures roaring into the night. Clenching his eyes shut, he shook his head, trying to dispel the vicious delusions from his mind.
Yet, then he heard his name yelled clear and true into the night. Forcing the scene to dissipate, he dropped his hands from his ears and listened to her trembling voice. Her scream admitted the pain she was succumbing to, forcing Legolas to acknowledge it as well. Fear arose within him, strangling the serenity of the night. His heart beat faster in listening to her agony; he could not bear to hear the dreadful sound of one in harm, especially one who he had promised to protect. Yet, now he looked beyond the simple promise of protection and considered more of what she meant to him personally. In a moment of change, Legolas' mind dispelled the delusions that haunted him and instead surpassed the past by agreeing to a future.
As her scream died down, Legolas stood up with more determination to free Haemerethwen. He quickly ran off, leaving the other Elves behind as they continued to fear what may have become of the she-Elf. However, Elladan noticed his departure and, shouting out, alerted the rest of the group to follow the Prince.
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Galadriel Lorien: I would love to read your fictions if you could tell me the names!
Night Interlude: I am glad that you liked the discussion between the twins and Legolas; did you get the chance to read chapter seventeen?