DISCLAIMER: Lord of the Rings, and its characters, sadly, do not belong to me. They are the property of JRR Tolkien, et al. No money is gained from the writing of this story. Its sole purpose is for the enjoyment of myself and all who read it.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Destinies Entwined
Chapter
Nine
Part
One
After
several hours of being unceremoniously draped across the front of the
speeding horse, Elladan has lost much of the feeling in his legs. He
knows it's from a lack of blood circulation and wonders if Legolas
and Elrohir are suffering the same thing. Trying to ease the cramped
muscles in his back, he shifts just a little. The small movement
causes him to slide forward and he begins to slip from the horse's
back into the path of its pounding hooves.
Strangling the cry that tries to escape his lips, Elladan watches, almost in slow motion, as the horse's right front hoof rises towards him. The pain that explodes through his head on impact is excruciating and he sighs in relief as he slips into oblivion.
As the feeling in his legs slowly disappears due to the lack of circulation, and the muscles in his back become stiff, Elrohir tries to ease some of the tension by tightening and relaxing his muscles. When that is ineffective, he tries to arch his back, just a little. As he does, his head comes up just enough for him to look at his brother draped across the horse not far from the one he was on. His elven ears just barely catch a muffled cry at the time that his brain registers the sight of his twin slipping head first off the horse.
Fear grips his heart for his brother as he sees flecks of red fly from near the horse's front leg. The same leg that just slammed into his brother's head. He is terrified of the mere thought of having to stay in Middle Earth without his twin.
Slowly coming to, Legolas feels a jolting pain in his shoulder. Groggily remembering what happened, an intense mixture of fear and sorrow consumes him. He knows not whether his friend is dead or alive, but he forces himself to hold onto the hope that Strider is in fact alive and searching for them at that same moment. To think otherwise would be folly as it would plunge him into darkness.
-----------------------------------------------------
About midday, Strider calls a halt. He fears for the lives of his friend and brothers, but he knows that if the horses drop from sheer exhaustion, them they will never reach their quarry before serious harm can befall the captives.
It is while they are letting the horses rest that Ranien and the other elves hear the sound of rapidly approaching horses. Tensing, they pull their weapons, preparing for anything. As Ranien realizes that the approaching riders are elven from Mirkwood, he motions for the others to lower their weapons. As the riders draw near, he sees Gil- Ganduil among them. Admiring the other elf's determination, he moves toward the approaching horses.
"You made good time catching up. I did not expect the search party to arrive until closer to night fall,"Ranien says, noticing that not all in the party are from Mirkwood. There are several Lorien elves with them as well. Recognizing one of them, he approaches with a broad, but sad, grin. "Rumil of Lorien. You are a long way from home. Tell me, what has taken you so far from the Golden Wood?" he says, grasping the elf's upper arm in greeting.
"In truth, I was accompanying Calil-Gandion to Mirkwood to visit with his cousin Elendil. When we arrived, we learned of what happened and offered our assistance," the Lorien elf says.
"In truth, we can use all the help we can get. I fear we may need it. It seems our quarry knows not only Legolas, Elladan and Elrohir, but the surrounding terrain as well."
"Are there any clues as to who is responsible?" Calil asks, approaching the other two.
"Yes, there are," Ranien says. He fills them in on all that he knows.
"By the valar!" Strider says, looking closely at a spot on the ground. Standing, the young ranger utters a string of dwarvish curses, earning a surprised look from all of the new arrivals except for Gil-Ganduil, as he had heard that and worse when the edain had come to the night before.
"That doesn't sound good," Trelan says, approaching the other elves.
"No. It doesn't," Ranien agrees. Going over to the edain, he can see the hatred and fear in the human's eyes. "Strider? What is it nin mellon?"
"Blood. Elvish blood. On the grass. Here. And here," the young edain says, pointing to where he can see the specks of blood on the grass.
"Sweet Elbereth," Ranien says, seeing the trail of blood speckling the ground.
"Mount up. We leave. NOW," Strider says, anger boiling in his chest.
Within moments, they are moving again, this time with the Lorien elves in tow.
------------------------------------------------------------
Slipping in and out of consciousness, Legolas groans periodically as the feeling to his limbs is cut off due to the lack of blood flow. Each time he looks around, he sees that they are moving further north into the mountains of Ered Mithrin. He is beginning to suspect who their attackers are, but is unable to do anything until they stop and he can get his bearings.
As the sun begins to set, the horses pace begins to slow and Elladan's thoughts are pulled from the darkness once again. When the horse comes to a halt, he almost slides off the horse's back head first. Feeling himself being pulled from the horse's back, he is dropped to the ground near his brother and friend. He is so consumed with pain, from the blood rushing back into his limbs, that he is momentarily clueless as to their whereabouts. Moaning in agony, he flexes his limbs, as much as his binds will allow, trying to make the pain go away.
Elrohir is dosing again when he feels the horse beneath him slow. Before his pain- filled mind has time to react, he is unceremoniously dropped to the ground. Looking through pain glazed eyes, he sees that both his brother and friend are in as much pain as he is. As he sits there willing the feeling to return to his limbs, he takes in their surroundings and he realizes that they are in the mountains. Wondering who their attackers are, he watches several of them, hoping to catch a glimpse of their faces beneath the hoods of their cloaks.
Out of the corner of his eye, the leader of the group watches the elven princes to see what it is they intend to do. He knows that they will not willingly stay where they are. Not once the feeling returns to their limbs. He expects them to try to make a break for it, and his eyes gleam as an evil smile crosses his face. He is looking forward to inflicting a great deal of pain, both physical and mental, on the elven princes.
After their camp is set up, a quick meal is prepared and the leader has both food and water taken to the elves. He does not want them to be too weakened from lack of nourishment, or he will not be able to enjoy their cries of pain for great lengths of time.
As several of their captors approach with plates of food and water skins, Legolas, Elladan, and Elrohir wonder briefly if the food is drugged. However, after traveling half the night and all the next day, they are both hungry and thirsty. Before long, the meager meal is gone, and with their hunger and thirst sated, their thoughts turn to escape. They know it will be difficult, but they refuse to remain captives for much longer.
Trying to figure out ways to escape, none of the elves see the leader approach until he is actually standing in front of them. Looking up, they can barely see his face in the shadow of his hood, and what they see in his eyes brings fear to their hearts. There is an evil gleam in the man's eyes, and so much darkness that they feel the icy fingers of death just looking into them.
Motioning to several of his men, he has the elves pulled from each other and taken to three different spots around the camp. They are tied up, facing inward, with their arms extended from their body almost to the point of dislocating them. He makes them stand that way for some time, and their already stiff limbs protest the new abuse and become inflamed with the pain.
Going over to a small wooden chest, he gives the signal for the elves to be stripped to the waist. They struggle against their bonds to no avail, for they know what is to come. Because they are facing inward, they can see each other, and will have to watch each other writhe in pain.
He moves to the center of the camp so all three can see him and he grins at his captives with sadistic glee when he sees the look in their eyes at the sight of the braided leather whip in his hand.
"Who are you? Why are you doing this?" Elrohir asks, liking the entire situation less and less.
"Who am I and why am I doing this? I was wondering when one of you would ask that. The question now is will I tell you? Keeping you in suspense is rather enjoyable. However, I want you to know who I am and why I do this, for in that lies the greatest pleasure for me." With that, he pushes back his hood and reveals who he is.
"You're an elf?" Legolas asks, shocked.
"Yes. I am an elf. I once called Mirkwood my home. But I was banished. Because of a freak accident that ended in the extinguishing of two immortal flames. One from Mirkwood. One from Rivendell."
"Verillian? You are Verillian?" Legolas asks.
"Ah. So you've heard of me."
"Yes. I know of you. My father has spoken of you before."
"As has ours," Elladan says through gritted teeth.
The two flames that were extinguished were cousins to Lords Elrond and Thranduil. All three elves knew of the incident in which Verillian refers to. Though he says it was an accident, Lord Thranduil and Lord Elrond did not see it as so. Only the three were there together but only Verillian came out unscathed. He was found guilty of killing two immortals and banished from the elven realms. That happened even before the princes were born, and so Verillian has had millennia to plot out his revenge.
Part Two
"Their pace is slowing. They must not fear being followed. We may yet catch them this night," Strider says, hope rising in his chest.
"They left you for dead Strider. They have no reason to think they are being followed yet. They most likely think it will be days before any of you are missed. There is no way they could have known we were to meet up the morning of their attack," Ranien says, riding alongside the young dunedain. "Thankfully, you are more persistent than they realize," he adds, laughing softly.
They continue on, riding hard and only stopping briefly to let the horses rest. As the day progresses into night, they draw ever nearer to their quarry.
----------------------------------------------------------------
Approaching Legolas, Verillian begins whipping the elf with ever increasing carelessness. Several times, he hits the elf's back in the same spot, and the resulting wound is a deep gash.
Gritting his teeth, Legolas tries not to give release to the scream that is struggling to come out. He knows that is what Verillian wants, and he is determined not to give in. Feeling his resolve not to scream weaken, he wishes for oblivion to take him, but Illuvitar is not smiling on him, as that does not happen. As the whip strikes a rather deep gash, his resolve crumbles and he emits a long pain- filled scream, just seconds before he loses consciousness from the pain.
"That didn't take as long as I'd hoped. Perhaps you two will last longer," Verillian says with an evil smirk.
"I want to know one thing," Elladan says, through gritted teeth. "How did you know where we were and that we weren't with others?"
"That is two things actually. But it makes no difference. You will be dead once we leave this clearing, so I see no harm in telling you. The elves who arrived when you were leaving. One of them was loyal to me. He went for the sole purpose of getting the information I needed. When you left, he followed you. When you spilt into smaller groups, he continued to follow you. Until he knew you had set up a semi- permanent camp. Then he came and informed of where you were. Not all of us are exiles. Some have chosen this life of their own accord.
"Now. Who should be next?" he asks, looking at the brothers. "Hmmmm. I know. You will draw straws. In this case, sticks. Whichever of you gets the shorter stick will watch your brother be whipped until he screams. And I do so hope it's you who gets it," he tells Elladan, laughing at the look in his eyes. "It will be a pleasure to watch you writhe in pain at your brother's lashings, knowing there is nothing you can do to stop it."
Motioning to one of his men, two sticks are brought to him, one shorter than the other. Taking them, he turns so neither Elladan nor Elrohir can see, and he mixes the sticks up so there is no way of telling which hand the shorter one is in. He then turns back around, and looking at Elladan, he flashes a wicked smile. "I have one stick in each hand. Pick Elladan Elrondion, eldest son of Elrond Half-Elven, Elf-Lord of Rivendell."
"No," Elladan says firmly.
"Really? I think I might be able to change your mind," Verillian says, drawing a dagger from his belt. Walking over to Elrohir, he places the tip of the blade against Elrohir's chest. "I said pick." When Elladan still refuses, Verillian applies pressure to the dagger. Piercing the skin. Moving the dagger slowly, he cuts an inch long line into the elf prince's chest.
"All right damn you!" Elladan says, enraged by the elf's actions. "I'll choose."
"I thought that might get you to cooperate," Verillian says. Placing the sticks in his hands again, he mixes them up and then looks at Elladan. "Choose."
Taking a deep breath, he prays to Illuvitar that he will get the longer of the two sticks. Unfortunately, Illuvitar is not smiling on him this night, for when he chooses, it is the shorter stick he gets.
"NO!" Elladan yells as he helplessly watches Verillian stalk over to his twin.
Flashing Elladan and evil grin, he goes behind Elrohir and prepares to whip him. He allows the minutes to drag out, and then, when it appears that he might not do it, he swings the whip up and brings it down on Elrohir's naked back. His grin grows even wider as Elrohir jerks from the impact and from the anguished look on his brother's face.
Elrohir tries to withdraw his mind from the pain of the lash. He knows that the longer he is awake, the less chance his brother will receive the lash before they are rescued. There is no doubt in his mind that someone will come. The longer he holds out, the better chance that his brother will get away unscathed. As the lash continues to fall, her feels himself beginning to lose consciousness, and struggles to remain awake. He finally loses control and screams as the lash whips around his body and catches him in the same place he had been stabbed the night before in order to get Elladan to cooperate.
Grinning evilly at the length of time it took to get the elf to scream, Verillian strikes him a few more times just for fun. He then turns his attention to the other elf prince. "I was so glad you drew the shorter stick. It was so entertaining watching you jerk and writhe while I whipped your brother. I had hoped he would last longer than Legolas did, and he didn't disappoint. Now, let's see how long you can last," he adds, moving behind Elladan. Verillian moves very close to Elladan and slides the handle of the whip down his back, almost reverently. "I am going to make you suffer the most for your father's action,s, he whispers in Elladan's ear.
Stepping back, he flicks the whip, slick with blood from both Legolas and Elrohir, and the tip bites into Elladan's flesh, leaving a welt. For several long minutes, Verillian almost teases Elladan by striking him just hard enough to leave small, red welts on the skin. Tiring of his little game, he begins to increase the pressure on the whip, and soon, the elf's back is crossed with thin, bleeding lines.
Elladan's world has become one of pain and blood. Several times he has bitten the inside of his cheek to keep from screaming as the whip digs deeper and deeper into the flesh of his back. The thick copper taste of his own blood mixes with the bile that rises to his throat and several times he has nearly choked on it. But he refuses to give in. He knows that if he gives in to the pain, then their lives are forfeit. He has seen the deadly intent in the other elf's eyes and knows that if he gives in to the pain, they will all die.
As the minutes fly by, and Elladan still refuses to cry out, or to respond in any way, Verillian begins to fume. Getting an idea, he has his men slice through the legs of his leggings and remove them from the thigh down. He then begins aiming the whip at Elladan's legs, slicing through the skin in several places.
"Scream, damn you!" Verillian shrieks, furious with the stoic silence. In his rage, he continues moving around Elladan's body and begins whipping his chest as well, but still receiving no response.
Biting into his cheek with each lash of the whip, Elladan remains silent. Off and on for nearly two hours, Verillian has taken his rage and need for revenge out on the eldest son of Lord Elrond. As he begins to feel his hold on his consciousness slip, a small smile crosses his face. He has maintained his stoic silence, refusing to give Verillian the pleasure of his screams, and when darkness finally claims him, he still hasn't uttered a sound.
---------------------------------------------------------
As they approach the clearing where their quarry has set up camp, Strider is overcome with an intense rage as he stares at the three unconscious elves tied helplessly to trees. The only thin that keeps the young dunedain from charging into the clearing is the staying hand that Ranien places on his arm. "We must move in with caution," Ranien whispers in the ranger's ear. "If we do not, their lives will be forfeit."
Motioning to the other elves with them, he sends them to spread out around the clearing, surrounding the small band of elves in the center. As Strider issues a small series of whistles, the elven warriors of Mirkwood and Lorien erupt into the clearing, before Verillian and his elves have a chance to react. The fighting is fierce, but short lived, and within a short time they dark elves are all dead or dying.
Legolas, Elladan and Elrohir are cut from their bonds and gingerly lowered to the ground. Barking out orders, Strider tends to the worse of their wounds. "We have to get them back to Mirkwood. I do not have all the things needed to heal them. Not here".
After a brief discussion, it is decided that Legolas will ride with Strider, Elladan with Ranien and Elrohir with Trelan. They ride hard to return to Mirkwood, hoping the three elves will hold to the light long enough to reach the help of the healers.
TBC...
