Supergurl: Thank you SOOo much for your review and kind words! Hope you enjoy this chapter.
Elenillor: Sick of you? NEVER! Us Elf Tormenters have to stick together. EG blushes And THANKS AGAIN for ya reviews and encouragement! And I know what ya mean about grammar, cause I'm that way with facts and a story keeping to a timeline. I had to do MASSIVE rewrites to this story cause there were times it was nite, then day. But I think I got it all sorted out.
Gwyn:… yeah, I am an evil conniving author… thanks for noticing! LOL Legolas does seem to get a good fair amount of whooping, doesn't he? Oh well. He's tough.. he can take it. wink wink Besides, I try not to maim him too badly and without breaks. This time I actually give him a few days to heal up…. But you will have to read to find out. EG Yeah, the guards don't really agree with Temeruil, at least not all of them. They fear the elves and believe them full of bewitchments. Temeruil's just an ass… as you could have figured out by now. LOL I know the cruelty is bad, but it is necessary to get the readers involved and to bring out the raw emotions. At least that is my intension. J Hope you like this chapter!
Littlesaiyangirl: Hope you enjoy this chapter.
AND to everyone else that reads, I am SOOO sorry its taken this long to update. Seems like every time that I try, FF.net finds some way to block me and make my author-life miserable. The next chapter will be finished by Sunday and I will try to upload then…. Depending on what time I get back from out of town.
Thanks for your patience, and remember… click that little button and leave some thoughts. I'll give you an elf if you do. WEG
Chapter Four
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Temeruil began his interrogation of the Elf Prince, repeating himself over and over, asking the same question and refusing to accept the constant answer. He had tried a few of his cruel instruments on the fair being, and when he was not able to remain upright under his own will, Temeruil ordered the guards to release him and allow the elf to sag to the floor, where he lay, panting for breath and twitching constantly.
Temeruil grinned viciously when he heard the elf wheezing for air, and noticed his visibly trembling body. He turned to grab another vile instrument, when a messenger burst into the room panting for breath, "My Lord, there are Orcs on the northern border. They are attacking!"
"What?!" Temeruil shouted. His lip curled into a nasty grimace as he looked at the Elf still prone on the floor. "Damraul take this elf back to his cell. I will continue this later!"
"Yes Sir," Damraul said, removing the shackles binding the elf. The lumbering guard knew from the obvious distressful manner the elf was in, he would be no threat of retaliation or escape.
"And tell the men to prepare for battle. We must defend ourselves, then come back to enjoy our spoils." The man leered at Legolas and quickly exited the room.
Damraul hauled Legolas up violently, not caring the pain he caused on the wounds the elf had sustained during the interrogation. He paid no heed as he dragged, more than steered the elf back to his cell, the fair being's head barely able to rise as he was led down one corridor after another, the light fading into a dismal dim once again.
Legolas felt his mind plummet down into a secluded place within him, the kindling of light dwindling down with the descent into the lower levels of the prison. The urge to fall into a totally, deep, submissive sleep came over him as he fought the sensation, hoping against hope to remain awake for fear of never waking again.
As they neared the cell, the sounds of shouting could be heard, along with moans and protests. Legolas was vaguely aware of the mass of bodies that filed past him on their way to their stations and executing the orders given to them by their superiors. His head swam as he lost the battle to keep his head up and it fell painfully against his chest. His throat was slick and constricting, his breath shallow as his vision hazed and cleared, unable to focus due to the pain crashing against his senses like waves and eddies upon rock. The extreme feeling of emptying his stomach lulled against his senses, adding to the dizziness caused from injuries. If he didn't know it was from pain, the elf would have sworn he was seasick.
Legolas was thrown into his cell without a thought. His body made a dull thud as it made contact with the cold stone floor. The wind escaped his body momentarily, his mind screaming out in agony, his body pleading for him to take a much-needed breath into his oxygen starved lungs.
With a painful hitch, his body obeyed and began to suck in air convulsively. He instinctually rolled over onto his side, gasping and wheezing. His newly bruised ribs tensed, then laced out bolts of electricity through his body, clearly aggravated by the new assault they had sustained. Legolas hoped that nothing was broken, but by the way he fought for air and the intense pain that favored his torso during movement left no room for doubt that something was broken. He silently thanked the Valar that none of his old wounds had reopened, though most certainly irritated and inflamed from the abuse the Lord had enjoyed inflicting on the fair being.
Taking the much-needed peace that he was surrounded by, the elf closed his eyes momentarily, allowing his body a chance to relax and begin its healing again. After a few moments his breathing slowed, his mind cleared, though still fighting desperately at the pain and unconsciousness threatening to pull him down. Hearing a strangled whimper, he opened his eyes and looked around the darkened room, his sight adjusting to the darkness. His eyes, though still foggy from pain and fatigue, recognized the close huddled figure in the corner.
The woman was sitting in the same spot the Prince had first seen her in. He could just make out the fresh bruising on her face and the ragged, torn appearance of her clothes, which hung onto her body as she clutched them defensively against her.
Her eyes seemed to be unfocused, her usual intent surveillance diminished. Her breathing was more slow and steady, yet she was wavering slightly from side to side.
"Milady, are you all right?" Legolas asked, his breath hitched slightly as a stitch caught in his side. He thought it a stupid question, but then realized, he really didn't have anything else to say or ask in this strange and difficult situation.
The woman merely glared at him, then overbalanced and landed hard on her side.
Legolas startled, and then made a motion to go to her, but she seemed to come to herself again and started screaming at the top of her lungs.
"LET ME GO! DO NOT TOUCH ME! GET AWAY FROM ME! GO AWAY!"
Legolas halted, more so because of his body's cries of pain, but concentrated on seeing through the dim veil. His eyes focused and took in her appearance more closely. Her face was oval and young looking, maybe no more than 18 or 19 human years old. Large bruises covered her face; her lip was split and bleeding. Her clothes weren't only baggy, but they were torn and ripped, and she was clinging to them desperately to keep them on her body and hiding her exposed skin beneath.
Legolas slowly and carefully pulled himself up into a sitting position, and put up his hands in a submissive manner as he slowly backed away from her. His body screamed out against him to remain still, but the Prince backed away from the woman, knowing she feared his proximity and in her already tormented state, his very presence was causing her more suffering.
"I only meant to assist you. I did not intend to frighten you," Legolas said softly.
"Do not… Do not touch me." the woman gasped in a whisper.
"As you wish," Legolas inclined his head.
After a few minutes of staring into each other's eyes, the woman's face suddenly relaxed, her eyes rolled into her head, and she slumped to the ground unconscious.
The internal struggle to help her welled up inside the elf. He had guessed what had transpired since his departure, and wanted to help the human in any way he could, but then the thought of what it would do to her if she woke up and saw him close warred in his mind. Though he hated it, he decided to keep his distance, just in case she would awaken and find a stranger hovering over her.
Through the night the young girl slept, neither moving nor making any sounds. Legolas kept watch over her form, monitoring her breathing, and keeping the visiting vermin away from her prone form. He alternated sitting and lying down, neither very comfortable to the injuries that were already healing on the fair beings body. Several times, Legolas snapped awake, having dozed off or passed out from the pain, his vigilance reassuming once again until exhaustion claimed him unexpectedly.
The light rarely changed much in the depths of the dungeons. Lanterns flickered on and off, guards mumbled to one another, yawns penetrated the air, muffled cries of fellow prisoners echoed through the hallways, and yet the unconscious girl slept on.
During the night, the Elf Prince heard shouts of guards as they raced loudly down the hall, ordering troops to protect borders that were still under heavy attack. The sounds quickly died away from even the heightened hearing of the Elf locked behind a cage of thick stones and heavy wooden door. Several hours passed without a cry as to what was beholding the troops fighting on the front lines.
The suns first rays were lighting the world outside, dancing merrily in the blissfulness of a new day as the Orcs were driven away from the borders of the town. Guards and townsfolk went back to their homes and duties, too tired to celebrate their victory. Most fell immediately into sleep, whether they were standing or lounging, responsibilities left to later. Word of the battles along the borders quickly spread from neighbor to neighbor, each event becoming more and more outlandish in its telling as many filled in parts they didn't know of or embroidered to make the tale more colorful and put an unknown person into the hero's spotlight.
The muffled stories and recollections of the night went unheard to the prisoners, though had Legolas been awake, he could have no doubt gathered some intelligence on what happened through the long night. The prince however was deeply asleep, having passed out from fatigue and pain during the early morning hours, and like other elves, slept with his eyes open, their distinct glazed over look strangely glowing through the dimly lit chamber.
The woman felt herself rise into consciousness again, ache and pains making the intake of breath sharp, her mind becoming clear and focused to her surroundings and situation. Feeling the cold of harden, rocky floor pressing against her back, she eased herself up into a sitting position and glanced around the room, half expecting her solitude in the dismal underground.
She let out a small gasp at seeing the elf close by, lying between her and the cell wall, his legs stretched out in relaxation, his hands clasped peacefully over his chest, his eyes half hooded and staring up at the ceiling. She narrowed her eyes, staring over into his. With a frown, she realized he didn't blink, in fact, she noticed no movement at all.
Is he dead? The girl wondered, staring hard into his eyes that seemed vacant as the windows of an abandoned house.
Securing her clothes to her body and tying the rips together as best she could, she got on her knees and hesitantly crawled to the still figure hidden in the shadowy light.
When she was close enough to distinguish the fair beings eye color and his manner of dress, her eyes narrowed down closer to inspect the tiny metal fastening around his collar, which resembled a ring of ivy leaves. Her breath hitched as she recognized the design to be Elven, then her eyes darted to the delicate points on his ears. Remembering to breathe once again she exhaled long and low.
The intrusion of hot air so close alerted Legolas immediately that someone was near. His mind instantly jumped from slumber to awareness, his dreams floating away and becoming reality within the span of a heartbeat.
The Elf Prince saw that the female he was sharing his cell with was near, hovering over him and staring into his eyes, and that any quick action was sure to send her reeling away in fright. He slowly began to breathe heavier, then allowed his eyes to droop shut, his head lulling sideways on the floor.
The action was enough to send the girl scuttling away on her back, backpedaling like a crab. Her eyes widened as she watched the elf awaken from whatever sleep had befallen him.
Legolas opened his eyes and feigned a yawn, then looked over to the girl now cowering across the room. "I am sorry, I did not mean to startle you. How long was I asleep?"
Wide eyes stared through a mass of tangles. A faint voice whispered, barely audible but enough for Elven ears to hear, "Your… your eyes…. They were open."
Legolas smiled at her warmly and shifted around to a sitting position. The wounds he sustained during his torture had closed during the night, the bouts of unconsciousness allowing them periods of rest and healing. "Yes Milady. Elves sleep with their eyes open. I am sorry if it disturbed you."
The girl jerked her head and began to clutch tightly at her clothes, wrapping them as tightly as she could against her skin. She turned her head back and forth, frantically searching the room for something that eluded her.
"Milady? What is wrong?" Legolas asked, remembering to keep his voice low as to not frighten her further.
"Sleep.." She gasped and pulled her clothes tight around her throat, then glared at the elf. "I fell asleep…"
Cottoning on, the elf prince put up his hands in front of himself. "I did not come near you. I remained here," The Prince patted the ground on either side of him, "As to not disturb or awaken you. I did not think you would like to awaken to a stranger close to you."
The girl looked at him in a mixed expression. She seemed to be trying to figure out the stranger and wonder if he was telling the truth. But years of abuse taught her to be cautious, so she instinctively crouched closer to the wall.
"You have nothing to fear Milady. I will not harm you." Legolas said, smiling softly at the frightened girl. "I only wish to help you. You have several wounds that need tending too."
The girl touched her face and felt a stab of pain. When she pulled her hand away, her fingers were slick with her own blood, barely distinguishable through the dim of the prison.
"Please. I promise you that I only wish to help."
The girl shook her head vigorously. "No, I do not want you near me!"
"You need to have your wounds tended to. They need to be cleaned or they will become infected." Legolas pressed gently.
"Why trouble yourself?" The girl said with a note of sadness. "They are going to execute me. Why bother in healing me?"
The bile rose up once more in the elf's throat. He swallowed hard, hoping to dislodge the lump that had formed. Since elves were immortal, their perception of time and years differed from other beings. Though elves had been known to fallen in battle and even die of a broken heart, their deaths were always grieved over such a waste of a potential life. When it came to humans, who had a considerably shortened life span, the elves wondered at the race, marveling how they treated their fleeting lives and wasted their existence on petty things.
Legolas asked quietly, "Why are you to be executed?"
"What does it matter?!" The girl snapped, then drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms securely around them, fixing the elf with a piercing stare.
Getting the impression the conversation was now over, the Elven prince nodded, "Forgive my ignorance of the matter," and with a sigh, closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the cold wall. Wanting to further his healing to be able to attempt escape later, Legolas slipped into an Elven trance, giving his body the time and energy it needed to repair the damage sustained.
Several hours passed by in silence. The air outside turned cold, the wind whipped through the trees causing them to moan and shudder under the weight and pressure, the sun sank low in the sky, casting the world with an eerie scarlet hue. Clouds skimmed the horizon, threatening to invade the heavens above and cast further darkness upon the land with their gray masses.
Loud arguing in the hall interrupted the solitude and peace of the dungeons. The girl began to whimper as the voices grew louder. Legolas's head jerked up, sleep slipping away from him as his keen Elven ears picked up the slightest noise. He looked to the girl and put his finger to his lips to keep her quiet, and crawled to the thick doors and pressed his ear against the splintered wood.
"I am telling you now, let the elf go or we will fall to ruin. Elves are full of bewitchment. They can provoke deviltry and ill spirits to reign down on us."
"Nonsense! The elf has been locked up and under close watch since he has been here!"
"I am telling you, he has called upon dark forces to avenge him. We will all be killed!"
Legolas shook his head slightly as he listened to the conversation, becoming louder as the two in disagreement came closer. He always knew that Man mistrusted elves, and now had confirmation that they believed them evil. Folklore and fables spread faster than the shadow in the East, and caused just as much discord and hatred.
"You better let him go. I do not want to lose my family!" A gruff voice shouted from the opposite side of the door.
Legolas crawled back against the wall and sat down quickly, his face turning to the girl who looked even paler in the dim light. The voices on the other side of the door were rising, each trying to drown out the other.
"I am not letting him go! I will not suffer Lord Temeruil's wrath!"
"It is folly to tempt the fates!"
"He is the only one that can tell me the truth!"
"At the cost of your life and everyone else's?!"
"I do not believe he is causing this. You are letting your fears lead you!"
"I fear for my family! I do not want them to suffer."
The girl looked harshly over to the elf now staring at the door intently, listening to the conversation. He glanced at her and shook his head and whispered to her, "I have nothing to do with what has befallen them. I am just as much a prisoner as you."
A sound of metal on metal, and the groan of the door being thrust open cut off any further conversation.
Two men stepped inside the dimly lit room. Both were very tall, broad
shouldered, and muscular, judging by the fact that their clothing clung to
their bodies like a second skin.
"ELF!" one of the men shouted, striding over and lifting the prince by his hair. "Are you responsible for this tragedy?"
"Nay," Legolas answered. "I am not the one to blame."
"Elves can call on dangerous creatures to aid them. He could have used his power to make the beasts attack!" The second man said in a rather high pitched voice.
"Then let us see if he can call them to protect him from my whip!" the first man snarled, dragging the elf unmercifully out the door and down the corridor. Legolas spun, launching himself forward, hoping to catch the guard off balance, but his attack was expected. The guard caught Legolas, their arms locked around one another. The guard threw his head forward, smashing his forehead into the elf's chin and stunning him.
As brilliant bursts of light exploded in Legolas's eyes, he slowly realized he was being led away from his cell. His mind fought to clear itself of the gray haze that settled itself throughout his consciousness. He wished his legs withheld his weight, though only accomplishing to half drag, half stumble alongside several guards, mentally cursing himself for his weakness and vulnerability.
Legolas felt a hard handle strike the base of his skull, causing stars to dance and wink before his eyes in a mock twilight. Before he crashed to the ground, the elf noted the tables, chairs, and rows upon rows of books that lined the walls, before he crumpled completely upon the floor of the unfamiliar room.
"You have caused me nothing but trouble, Elf!" the man growled, unfurling a long leather whip that forked off in several evil looking segments. "Since you seem to enjoy having us at your mercy, I think it is time you learned who the superior race is here!"
The man drew back the whip. Legolas closed his eyes tightly and curled up into a ball, hoping to stave off any noise that may escape and protect his already battered body. The lance came down hard across the elf's back. The Prince fell forward with the impact, his arms unfurling in front of him to sustain his weight. His reserves low from lack of food and his mistreatment, his arms buckled and he fell forward, his chest slammed into the cold cobbled floor, the air knocked out of him and pain sending spirals of colors before his eyes. He tried to curl up on himself again, though such movement only caused more pain to his tender ribs but he wanted nothing more than to thwart the blows.
Once, twice, three times, the lance came down across the helpless elf curled up on the floor. Each blow ripped through the Prince's shirt, like an angered predator, tearing away the thin protection of fabric and delving greedily into the prone skin below. The cruel bite of the whip lashed at his tender flesh, the forked tongue doing its wicked job of inflicting painful stings as it hungrily gnawed on the fair being's skin.
Large angry marks crisscrossed themselves across Legolas's upper body; blood trickled and stained his clothes. But the elf refused to make a sound. He gritted his teeth and bore the pain in silence.
After lashing out several more times the man stopped, his breathing ragged and his arm tired. He glared down at the bruised, bleeding, and mangled being at his feet and spat on the elf in disgust. "Next time you want to release your demons on us, you will think twice!"
Legolas kept his eyes shut, watching the dancing and twinkling lights against the darkness that called to him, pulling him into its inky, welcoming void. Light and sound seemed to dissolve away from his senses. When two guards flanked the elf and hauled him to his feet, the pain seared to its peak, and darkness claimed the broken being, blanketing him in peace and untroubled slumber.
The guards dumped the unconscious elf into his cell, sniggered at the girl, then left, talking animatedly amongst themselves about the battle fought on their borders and the lesson the Elf had learned.
The girl watched the Prince, searching for some signs of consciousness or life, but he made no sounds. His breathing was the only sign of his life, which apparently was struggling. Uneven wheezes rent the air as Legolas breathed.
The girl tentatively approached the elf, her eyes flickering over his body and noting the unsteady shallow rise and fall of his chest. Staring down at him, she placed a hand at his throat and found a weak, thready pulse beat against her fingers.
Her eyes fixed on the shreds of remaining clothing, and the large bleeding welts that marred the elf's back, shoulders, and ribs. She noted a few errant wounds dotting his arms and legs. Knowing that the elf would be no danger in his current condition, she reluctantly tore a piece of fabric from her skirt and went to the small water basin and dipped it inside the brown, stale water.
It is not the cleanest thing, but it is all that we have, she thought looking down at the stains on the fabric.
The torn material quickly darkened to crimson as she wiped the blood off of Legolas's back. Several times she soaked and washed the material, and gently cleaned the wounds as best as she could. Ripping a length from the hem of her skirt, she wrapped his bleeding head that still held the impression of the pommel of the weapon that struck him. By nightfall, the Elven Prince lay swathed in pieces of the girl's loose underskirt, his wounds cleaned and bandaged.
Night descended upon the town, the minuscule food rations pushed through the door, and the guards taunting and laughing as they went about their rounds. All night long the girl sat by Legolas's side, watching him sleep with his eyes closed, listening to his ragged uneven breathing, wiping his brow with a cool wet rag ripped from her clothing.
Morning came and went, the sun hid behind threatening clouds of steel gray, and thunder rolled through the valleys as if to voice a war cry. The wind whipped up, howling through the town, pillaging for unsecured debris and pelting the villagers without pity or remorse. Late afternoon resembled the midnight hours as the weather continued to run rampant through the usually quiet town.
And the elf prince slept on.
When the food tray was pushed through the small flap at the door, one of the guards called, "Is he dead yet?" then slammed the flap shut, laughing heartily.
The girl scowled at him and looked down at the elf, who seemed to be coming back to consciousness.
Legolas slowly opened his eyes and blinked several times trying to get them to focus properly. Blurred shapes appeared, running together and confusing the elf. His head lolled slightly to one side, his bleary eyes barely making out the outline of someone kneeling next to him.
"Wh… what..." the prince started, but a shushing sound interrupted him.
"Be still. You have lost a lot of blood."
Legolas strained his eyes to look at the face that was speaking, but with the pounding in his head and the spinning sensation of the room, he closed his eyes again. "Thank you." The words were barely over a whisper before the Prince lost consciousness again.
The girl started; shocked that anyone would show appreciation to a slave. She quietly ate the food rations and lay down on the floor, far enough to stave off any violations, but yet close enough to monitor the life signs of the elf for the night.
During the night the girl had fallen into a deep sleep. Her vigil over the elf since his returned remained constant, yet as she sank deeper into sleep, her alertness dimmed.
The Prince was in a much-needed healing state when strange noises drew his consciousness around, his mind snapping back in an instant. When he came fully around to awareness, his ears perked, focusing in on the noise that had interrupted his slumber.
A muffled voice to the Princes' right caught his attention. When he turned his head he saw the girl lying beside him, her knees drawn up close to her chest, her head jerking violently on the floor, and her arms tightening around her legs, then waving through the air as if to fend off an unseen attack.
"No…… no no no…. please no…..master please… no.."
She stiffened, her body becoming rigid, then fell limply on the floor beside the elf.
At first Legolas feared her dead, but a soft moan escaped her lips, her head jerked slightly as her breathing began to even itself out. He watched her closely, his deep blue eyes piercingly sharp through the dim.
The girl slowly opened her eyes and looked over to check her charge. She jumped when she noticed his eyes watching her.
"Please," Legolas said through a painful hitch in his chest. "I did not mean to scare you."
"I thought you were asleep."
"Noises awoke me," Legolas said, not wanting to let the girl know she had been the source of the disturbance. "How long…"
The girl answered before he could finish the question. "They have sent three meals since you have been sleeping."
"Three days?" The Elf repeated faintly. Systematically moving his limbs, Legolas noted that his injuries faired a lot better than he had expected, though the news that he was unconscious for so long worried him.
"I saved you some food." The girl said hesitantly, pushing a piece of bread and overly ripe fruit towards him.
The Prince gingerly rolled onto his side and sat up, realizing he was bound tightly, he glanced down and saw the bandages wrapping his body, supporting and protecting his injuries which, now that he thought about it, were nothing more than a dull ache. He looked up quickly to the girl, then noted her manner of dress, particularly the shabbiness of her skirt and its definite thinning of material.
"Thank you, Milady," Legolas whispered softly, placing his right hand over his heart and bowing his head. "Thank you for tending to my injuries."
"You should not move. You could reopen your wounds," The girl replied, still shocked over the gentlemanly manner the elf was showing.
"I can assure you Milady, my wounds will not reopen," Legolas said with a sly smile. When the girl gave him a questioning look, the elf pulled away some of the bandages wrapping his arm to expose the completely sealed wound that was a shallow gash from the whip a few days ago. "Elves heal much faster than Men. Though I must admit, I did not expect to recover so quickly."
The girl narrowed her eyes, then widened them in surprise as she saw for herself the healing wounds. The large cracks that bleed freely were now merely large redden welts; bruising was faded from deep blue and black, to a dull yellowish brown color.
Legolas ate the dismal food within a few bites, then addressed the girl again. "By tomorrow, only a few marks will remain. You did a very good job of cleaning the wounds, and for that I am grateful. The wounds were able to heal much quicker once cleaned. Are you a healer?"
She shook her head no, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her skirt.
"Perhaps it is a natural ability," Legolas said with a gentle smile.
The girl looked at him through her tangles and said simply. "Yarna Dthang."
"What?" Legolas asked.
"My name. It is Yarna."
"Pleasure to meet you Milady, Yarna," Legolas said with a small bow of his head though his head was still slightly foggy from his torture and lengthy recovery.
The latch on the door creaked and rough voices speaking on the opposite side interrupted the Prince's thoughts. "I wonder if he is dead yet?"
"I do not know. There has not been any noise in here. Maybe they both are dead." a second voice said.
The door opened fully and two large men stood framed in the doorway.
"We could never be that lucky," one of them said as they took note of the two beings still alive in the cell.
"Still alive, Elf?" The first man asked gruffly.
Legolas looked up at the man defiantly, "It would appear so."
"Are you going to give us any more trouble?" The second man asked.
"That depends," Legolas smiled. "On whether or not you are going to give me trouble."
The first guard made to advance on the elf, but the second guard held him back. "You can teach him a lesson later. Temeriul wanted the girl and he does not like to be kept waiting."
Yarna tried to retreat to the far wall in an attempt to escape the guards clutches, but he easily captured her, grabbing her by her hair and pulling her along with him, the stones cutting roughly into her legs as she kicked and fought to free herself.
"NO!" Legolas yelled, jumping up to his feet. His still-healing body protested the movements, pain laced through every cell in his body, his breath catching in his throat as he lunged at the guard in the doorway. The contact of his body slamming into the guards was enough to steal the elf's breath away, but he forced himself to keep moving. His actions were slowed from his injuries and he couldn't move as fast as he normally would. The guard dragging Yarna landed a huge fist on the elf's stomach, doubling him over, then one-handedly, struck the Prince hard across the back of the neck.
Legolas felt his body drifting away into the blackened abyss that was his haven from the pain. Stars winked behind his eyes. He felt himself land on top of the guard he knocked down. His hand flicked strangely, unnoticed by the guards, and then felt the cold stone greet his face as he was pushed roughly to the ground.
The guards were cursing at the elf's foolhardy attempt and slammed the door, though all actions went unnoticed to the elf curled up into a ball and devoid of thought and consciousness.
