I'm very sorry this has been a while in coming - my great-aunt died
recently, and I had to travel up to Scotland for the funeral. However, on
the train I got some planning done. I now know how this is going to end,
what characters will be involved etc. I also know that this is going to be
long.
A/N: Apparently the Legolas/Noldor scene in the last chapter is very similar to a scene from Tamora Pierce's book Page. I've never actually read it, so I'm not sure how similar. I'm going to re-write it as soon as I get the chance so it's a bit different. Thanks to killslay for pointing that out.
Thank you very much to Kukabura for the chapter title!
* * * * * Legolas' POV * * * * *
Escape.
I spent my time thinking of it, dreaming of it. Thinking up useless plots to get out; only to discard them as being nonsensical, unrealistic, or just plain impossible.
I wanted out - away from these dismal caves, from the constant dark, and from the dwarves. I wanted to see the sun again, see the trees again. Feel grass under my feet. More than anything, I wanted to see my Ada again.
But escape was impossible. I didn't know my way around - I could get hopelessly lost, and never find the entrance. I used to pride myself on my sense on direction, but down here I might as well have been blind and deaf, for all the good my senses did me. And even if I did manage to find the entrance and get past the dwarves, where would I go? I couldn't go home: I would be caught, and most likely killed, by the Noldor Elves. It anguished me to think that I could never go home again. And the only other places I knew of outside home were the human town of Dale and Rivendell. I couldn't go to either of them. Of course, I knew of other places, such as Gondor and Rohan, but how would I get there? I did not know.
Escape was impossible.
* * * * *
I hated the dwarf sometimes. The way he ordered me around, treated me as if I was nothing. I could feel rebellious anger growing within me everyday. The way he was so arrogant, selfish, cold-hearted, uncaring about anything apart from his work. He vexed me more and more, with everything he did and said. And yet.
Sometimes he seemed almost kind. I did not understand it; how could he appear so harsh one minute, and so.not the next. Kind was too strong a word to use, and so was gentle. He just didn't seem as bad as normal.
I hated the fact I had to obey him. I felt a coward for being too afraid to rebel. I felt a coward because I was scared of being hurt, of whatever punishment he might deal out.
I hated myself for that.
* * * * *
I missed my Ada more and more each day. I longer to see him again, hear his voice. We'd never even been able to say goodbye.
Sometimes, mostly at night, the ache to see him and my home grew till it overwhelmed me, and all I could do was curl up and cry. That was another thing I was starting to despise about myself - I had been training as a warrior, and surely a warrior should be strong, and unafraid of pain.
I felt like a failure.
I wanted so much to be strong, and rebel against the dwarves, so that my Adar would be proud of me when we met up again. I had to believe we'd meet again - the thought that I might never see him again was too awful to contemplate.
I missed Oropher as well. He'd been critical, angry, was never happy with anything I did and seemed to spend all his time shouting, but sometimes he did something that made me remember that he was family, and then I couldn't help but love him. And besides, he was allowed to be like that. He was King. Or had been King. Ada was King now.
Would Ada start to act like Oropher? I hoped that he wouldn't. I don't think I could stand it if he changed. All I wanted was to see him again. With him I wasn't a prince, or a novice warrior. I was just me.
Other Elves had teased me about being so close to my Adar, but right now, I didn't care.
* * * * *
I could hear footsteps approaching in the hall. Most likely it was the dwarf who came with food at mid-day. He always made comments about how lucky I was, mocking comments meant to hurt. I tried not to let them, but when he talked about my Adar it was all I could do not to cry. I didn't want him to know how weak I was being.
But his taunts also made me angry, and anger gave me strength. I wanted my Ada to be proud of me. I would rebel against the dwarf. Maybe not in a big way, but I would try.
I would just have to block out any fearful thoughts of what the consequences would be. They made me weak.
A/N: Apparently the Legolas/Noldor scene in the last chapter is very similar to a scene from Tamora Pierce's book Page. I've never actually read it, so I'm not sure how similar. I'm going to re-write it as soon as I get the chance so it's a bit different. Thanks to killslay for pointing that out.
Thank you very much to Kukabura for the chapter title!
* * * * * Legolas' POV * * * * *
Escape.
I spent my time thinking of it, dreaming of it. Thinking up useless plots to get out; only to discard them as being nonsensical, unrealistic, or just plain impossible.
I wanted out - away from these dismal caves, from the constant dark, and from the dwarves. I wanted to see the sun again, see the trees again. Feel grass under my feet. More than anything, I wanted to see my Ada again.
But escape was impossible. I didn't know my way around - I could get hopelessly lost, and never find the entrance. I used to pride myself on my sense on direction, but down here I might as well have been blind and deaf, for all the good my senses did me. And even if I did manage to find the entrance and get past the dwarves, where would I go? I couldn't go home: I would be caught, and most likely killed, by the Noldor Elves. It anguished me to think that I could never go home again. And the only other places I knew of outside home were the human town of Dale and Rivendell. I couldn't go to either of them. Of course, I knew of other places, such as Gondor and Rohan, but how would I get there? I did not know.
Escape was impossible.
* * * * *
I hated the dwarf sometimes. The way he ordered me around, treated me as if I was nothing. I could feel rebellious anger growing within me everyday. The way he was so arrogant, selfish, cold-hearted, uncaring about anything apart from his work. He vexed me more and more, with everything he did and said. And yet.
Sometimes he seemed almost kind. I did not understand it; how could he appear so harsh one minute, and so.not the next. Kind was too strong a word to use, and so was gentle. He just didn't seem as bad as normal.
I hated the fact I had to obey him. I felt a coward for being too afraid to rebel. I felt a coward because I was scared of being hurt, of whatever punishment he might deal out.
I hated myself for that.
* * * * *
I missed my Ada more and more each day. I longer to see him again, hear his voice. We'd never even been able to say goodbye.
Sometimes, mostly at night, the ache to see him and my home grew till it overwhelmed me, and all I could do was curl up and cry. That was another thing I was starting to despise about myself - I had been training as a warrior, and surely a warrior should be strong, and unafraid of pain.
I felt like a failure.
I wanted so much to be strong, and rebel against the dwarves, so that my Adar would be proud of me when we met up again. I had to believe we'd meet again - the thought that I might never see him again was too awful to contemplate.
I missed Oropher as well. He'd been critical, angry, was never happy with anything I did and seemed to spend all his time shouting, but sometimes he did something that made me remember that he was family, and then I couldn't help but love him. And besides, he was allowed to be like that. He was King. Or had been King. Ada was King now.
Would Ada start to act like Oropher? I hoped that he wouldn't. I don't think I could stand it if he changed. All I wanted was to see him again. With him I wasn't a prince, or a novice warrior. I was just me.
Other Elves had teased me about being so close to my Adar, but right now, I didn't care.
* * * * *
I could hear footsteps approaching in the hall. Most likely it was the dwarf who came with food at mid-day. He always made comments about how lucky I was, mocking comments meant to hurt. I tried not to let them, but when he talked about my Adar it was all I could do not to cry. I didn't want him to know how weak I was being.
But his taunts also made me angry, and anger gave me strength. I wanted my Ada to be proud of me. I would rebel against the dwarf. Maybe not in a big way, but I would try.
I would just have to block out any fearful thoughts of what the consequences would be. They made me weak.
