Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any recognizable characters
and/or places thereof
Author's note: To explain the jailhouse-giant thing, well, my sister is taking A.P. Spanish Lit, so she was reading Don Quixote and, well, for anyone who knows Don Quixote that's why. For anyone who needs an explanation just say and I'll post one next chapter. This chapter got rather bloodier than I had intended. Also, at one point Estel swears. I know it isn't very Middle-earth like, but given the circumstances. . .
Leggylover03: I didn't say where Elrond was. He will come in, but I am not sure you will like the way he does. Hehe, and there is enough of a spoiler for one day, I think.
Gwyn: He may be young, but circumstance forced him to grow up--too quickly, as you said. The dead bodies. . .yuck. I know. That part wrote itself. But Estel did hold well with that experience. Of course, it might go either way: he might become numb to violence or he might learn pity. Luckily I am the author and may choose for him.
Maranwe: Estel is fourteen, just shy of fifteen. (appropriately, he is about ten months older than me)
Thanks everyone for reviewing, and I do hope you enjoy this new chapter!
*****
They continued on in silence to the jail. It all felt so wrong. A dog ought to be barking, or some Man running at them with his sword drawn shouting curses, yet there was no noise, no threat. Lysander coughed to clear his throat and the sound seemed the loudest any of them had ever heard. Every time they passed by a house Estel shivered, wondering if the scene within was the same as the one in that house he had simply "had to know" about. Now he wished he had not followed that whim, for the fear of what might be was far less awful than the memory of what was.
At long last the jail-building loomed before them. Estel had never seen it in daylight, and what he saw now was a giant more than ready to raise his feet and crush them. It seemed the others saw a similar apparition, for they stared open-mouthed until at last Elrohir regained control and said, "Come. We have not the time to tarry here. We can only hope our friends are being kept in this place, for if they are not--"
"We will look here, then despair, Elrohir," said Elladan. It was, thus, he who led the group into the jailhouse. Having once run out of the jail with Sierra leading, he managed to find a way in on his own, descending the stairway to the lower level. Halfway down the stairs he stopped, and said, "Pass the knife this way, whoever has it, please." This was done, and once armed Elladan continued. At the foot of the stairs they entered a corridor, and as there was no other way to go the trotted along it, then another corridor, and so on, until Estel stopped. "What is it, Estel?"
"She comes, too," he stated flatly, motioning towards the cell by which he had stopped. In it lay a clearly female being, lying on the floor, motionless save the telltale rise and fall of her chest. It took a moment for the others to recognize her, having had little contact with her. When they did, no one argued. Not only did they owe it to her; Estel was set too firmly to even try talking him out of it. Elladan only nodded.
"We have to go on and find the others, and there is only one knife," Elladan said.
"I know where the warden's office is," Estel said, suddenly recalling the glimpse he had caught when running out the first time. "I will find the key there and meet you in the forest."
"Meet us outside the weapons cache," Elladan instructed, then nodded. "And take care of your yourself." The others went on, but Lysander, who stayed. Elladan muttered to Elrohir, keeping his voice low, "I have a bad feeling about this."
"A bad feeling about leaving Estel on his own?" Elrohir asked.
"Yes."
"You know that sooner or later this must be done." Elrohir spoke logically.
"Nevertheless, I dislike it."
Estel and Lysander ran down corridors and up the stairs, bursting into the warden's office. It was a small room with a paper-strewn desk and a set of cabinets against the wall and a broom in one corner. For a moment the two boys stood in the doorway, then at once they shot forward. "You look in the cabinets and I will look in the desk," said Estel, and Lysander did. They talked as they worked. "Why did you stay with me?" asked Estel, shuffling through the papers atop the desk before moving on to one of the drawers. Perhaps it was because he was so afraid to be caught that he talked, trying to calm his nerves, and perhaps it was simply because he had to know. Perhaps he knew what was ahead. But only perhaps.
"I feel so terrible about how we treated you before," Lysander replied. "You are so amazing, Estel. You have such a concept of honour. . .morals. When the others would hurt you I stayed back, too concerned for their opinions of me. I was weak. This is what I do in apology: I stay by you."
Estel could think of nothing to say. He had searched nearly the entire desk, all the drawers, too, by the time his throat unstuck. "You do not have to," he said.
"Yes I do," replied Lysander. He finished the cabinets and knelt to look beneath them, and just then--
"Now this is interesting."
Estel whirled. It was the King, that presumptuous, arrogant creature whom Estel had cast from his mind. So dishonourable, that he would be in the city while his subjects died upon the field. Estel said so.
The King chuckled. "Think before you act, boy. You are unarmed here while I have a sword--" indeed, he did "--and alone. If you value your life you will do as I say." At this Estel might have shriveled with fear, but his heart rose with hope. If Lysander had not been seen, he might be wise enough to run for help.
"What do you want from me?" Estel asked, feigning submission.
"Where are the others?" the King growled, and for the first time Estel saw that the King knew his people were defeated, and fought still. He would fight to the last Man: inevitably himself. And a part of Estel admired this, while he knew it for folly.
"All together where the guilty roam free while the innocent hang from the gallows," Estel replied over-sweetly. Angrily the King shot forward and slammed Estel against the desk. Lysander ran then, and was nearly at the door when the King whirled and drew his sword threateningly. Estel felt terrible, for he knew why the King had found Lysander: his own eyes had wandered.
"Do you think this wise, boy?" asked the King, as Lysander held up his fists. One hand held sword, while the other held down Estel, who began to scrabble for freedom, but stopped as the King laid pressure to his throat and cut of his air supply. Once Estel was still the King relaxed his grip, and Estel did not fight back.
"Let him go," Lysander said.
"You make demands of me, while you have no weapon?"
Lysander reached his hand to the wall and felt along it, seeking and finding the broom. "This is enough for me. Let him go and we will spare your life." The king laughed again, then took a step back, allowing Estel to his feet, drew out a knife and threw it into Lysander's wrist. As he did so Lysander threw the broom to Estel, who caught it, and when the knife stuck Lysander drew it forth and staggered, attempted to stab the King then fell to his knees against the wall. The King had the mercy to end his suffering, or perhaps it was rage, for before he struck to kill the Elfling with his sword, Lysander said, "Kill him for me, Estel. Never give up." Then his eyes glazed, and Estel knew he was beyond pain and was glad.
Then for a time the King and Estel faced each other, and something passed between them, though it could not be said what. At last Estel asked, "Well? Was it worth it? Your life for his?"
"It was not worth the time it will take to clean the blood from my sword," said the King. Estel was so angry then that he passed from reason, attacking before the King could even think. Hours of staff training kicked in, Estel knocked the King to the floor. He was older than Estel, but had not fought in many years, and was weakening. As Estel stood over him, he moaned in pain. "Say it was worth it," Estel whispered.
"Never."
"Say it!" Estel shouted, slamming the broom repeatedly into the King's chest with all of his might. "Say it was worth it! Say it was worth your life! Say it, you bastard, say it! Say it! Tell me his life was worth yours! Say he was worth the blood on your sword! Say it!" As he shouted this he felt the King's ribs crack, but he hardly noticed. He hardly noticed when the broom broke into the King's ribcage, and was no long hitting flesh, but a human heart.
Estel stopped then, because someone said, "Estel, stop this!" and, when he did not, grabbed him and held him very tightly, whispering calming things to him. When at last Elladan released him, estel was in a daze. "Time to go," Elladan said. "Come on. We have the girl with us, and the others. Estel, please come."
Estel scooped up the body of his departed friend, staggering under the weight, and followed his brother out into the night.
*****
To be continued
Author's note: To explain the jailhouse-giant thing, well, my sister is taking A.P. Spanish Lit, so she was reading Don Quixote and, well, for anyone who knows Don Quixote that's why. For anyone who needs an explanation just say and I'll post one next chapter. This chapter got rather bloodier than I had intended. Also, at one point Estel swears. I know it isn't very Middle-earth like, but given the circumstances. . .
Leggylover03: I didn't say where Elrond was. He will come in, but I am not sure you will like the way he does. Hehe, and there is enough of a spoiler for one day, I think.
Gwyn: He may be young, but circumstance forced him to grow up--too quickly, as you said. The dead bodies. . .yuck. I know. That part wrote itself. But Estel did hold well with that experience. Of course, it might go either way: he might become numb to violence or he might learn pity. Luckily I am the author and may choose for him.
Maranwe: Estel is fourteen, just shy of fifteen. (appropriately, he is about ten months older than me)
Thanks everyone for reviewing, and I do hope you enjoy this new chapter!
*****
They continued on in silence to the jail. It all felt so wrong. A dog ought to be barking, or some Man running at them with his sword drawn shouting curses, yet there was no noise, no threat. Lysander coughed to clear his throat and the sound seemed the loudest any of them had ever heard. Every time they passed by a house Estel shivered, wondering if the scene within was the same as the one in that house he had simply "had to know" about. Now he wished he had not followed that whim, for the fear of what might be was far less awful than the memory of what was.
At long last the jail-building loomed before them. Estel had never seen it in daylight, and what he saw now was a giant more than ready to raise his feet and crush them. It seemed the others saw a similar apparition, for they stared open-mouthed until at last Elrohir regained control and said, "Come. We have not the time to tarry here. We can only hope our friends are being kept in this place, for if they are not--"
"We will look here, then despair, Elrohir," said Elladan. It was, thus, he who led the group into the jailhouse. Having once run out of the jail with Sierra leading, he managed to find a way in on his own, descending the stairway to the lower level. Halfway down the stairs he stopped, and said, "Pass the knife this way, whoever has it, please." This was done, and once armed Elladan continued. At the foot of the stairs they entered a corridor, and as there was no other way to go the trotted along it, then another corridor, and so on, until Estel stopped. "What is it, Estel?"
"She comes, too," he stated flatly, motioning towards the cell by which he had stopped. In it lay a clearly female being, lying on the floor, motionless save the telltale rise and fall of her chest. It took a moment for the others to recognize her, having had little contact with her. When they did, no one argued. Not only did they owe it to her; Estel was set too firmly to even try talking him out of it. Elladan only nodded.
"We have to go on and find the others, and there is only one knife," Elladan said.
"I know where the warden's office is," Estel said, suddenly recalling the glimpse he had caught when running out the first time. "I will find the key there and meet you in the forest."
"Meet us outside the weapons cache," Elladan instructed, then nodded. "And take care of your yourself." The others went on, but Lysander, who stayed. Elladan muttered to Elrohir, keeping his voice low, "I have a bad feeling about this."
"A bad feeling about leaving Estel on his own?" Elrohir asked.
"Yes."
"You know that sooner or later this must be done." Elrohir spoke logically.
"Nevertheless, I dislike it."
Estel and Lysander ran down corridors and up the stairs, bursting into the warden's office. It was a small room with a paper-strewn desk and a set of cabinets against the wall and a broom in one corner. For a moment the two boys stood in the doorway, then at once they shot forward. "You look in the cabinets and I will look in the desk," said Estel, and Lysander did. They talked as they worked. "Why did you stay with me?" asked Estel, shuffling through the papers atop the desk before moving on to one of the drawers. Perhaps it was because he was so afraid to be caught that he talked, trying to calm his nerves, and perhaps it was simply because he had to know. Perhaps he knew what was ahead. But only perhaps.
"I feel so terrible about how we treated you before," Lysander replied. "You are so amazing, Estel. You have such a concept of honour. . .morals. When the others would hurt you I stayed back, too concerned for their opinions of me. I was weak. This is what I do in apology: I stay by you."
Estel could think of nothing to say. He had searched nearly the entire desk, all the drawers, too, by the time his throat unstuck. "You do not have to," he said.
"Yes I do," replied Lysander. He finished the cabinets and knelt to look beneath them, and just then--
"Now this is interesting."
Estel whirled. It was the King, that presumptuous, arrogant creature whom Estel had cast from his mind. So dishonourable, that he would be in the city while his subjects died upon the field. Estel said so.
The King chuckled. "Think before you act, boy. You are unarmed here while I have a sword--" indeed, he did "--and alone. If you value your life you will do as I say." At this Estel might have shriveled with fear, but his heart rose with hope. If Lysander had not been seen, he might be wise enough to run for help.
"What do you want from me?" Estel asked, feigning submission.
"Where are the others?" the King growled, and for the first time Estel saw that the King knew his people were defeated, and fought still. He would fight to the last Man: inevitably himself. And a part of Estel admired this, while he knew it for folly.
"All together where the guilty roam free while the innocent hang from the gallows," Estel replied over-sweetly. Angrily the King shot forward and slammed Estel against the desk. Lysander ran then, and was nearly at the door when the King whirled and drew his sword threateningly. Estel felt terrible, for he knew why the King had found Lysander: his own eyes had wandered.
"Do you think this wise, boy?" asked the King, as Lysander held up his fists. One hand held sword, while the other held down Estel, who began to scrabble for freedom, but stopped as the King laid pressure to his throat and cut of his air supply. Once Estel was still the King relaxed his grip, and Estel did not fight back.
"Let him go," Lysander said.
"You make demands of me, while you have no weapon?"
Lysander reached his hand to the wall and felt along it, seeking and finding the broom. "This is enough for me. Let him go and we will spare your life." The king laughed again, then took a step back, allowing Estel to his feet, drew out a knife and threw it into Lysander's wrist. As he did so Lysander threw the broom to Estel, who caught it, and when the knife stuck Lysander drew it forth and staggered, attempted to stab the King then fell to his knees against the wall. The King had the mercy to end his suffering, or perhaps it was rage, for before he struck to kill the Elfling with his sword, Lysander said, "Kill him for me, Estel. Never give up." Then his eyes glazed, and Estel knew he was beyond pain and was glad.
Then for a time the King and Estel faced each other, and something passed between them, though it could not be said what. At last Estel asked, "Well? Was it worth it? Your life for his?"
"It was not worth the time it will take to clean the blood from my sword," said the King. Estel was so angry then that he passed from reason, attacking before the King could even think. Hours of staff training kicked in, Estel knocked the King to the floor. He was older than Estel, but had not fought in many years, and was weakening. As Estel stood over him, he moaned in pain. "Say it was worth it," Estel whispered.
"Never."
"Say it!" Estel shouted, slamming the broom repeatedly into the King's chest with all of his might. "Say it was worth it! Say it was worth your life! Say it, you bastard, say it! Say it! Tell me his life was worth yours! Say he was worth the blood on your sword! Say it!" As he shouted this he felt the King's ribs crack, but he hardly noticed. He hardly noticed when the broom broke into the King's ribcage, and was no long hitting flesh, but a human heart.
Estel stopped then, because someone said, "Estel, stop this!" and, when he did not, grabbed him and held him very tightly, whispering calming things to him. When at last Elladan released him, estel was in a daze. "Time to go," Elladan said. "Come on. We have the girl with us, and the others. Estel, please come."
Estel scooped up the body of his departed friend, staggering under the weight, and followed his brother out into the night.
*****
To be continued
