Well, here we are AGAIN! Hehe…at least you guys got a more interesting chapter, right? ;)
Responses:
Lady of the Forest: *watches Jenny getting dragged off by orc curiously* hm…there's a plot-twist I hadn't expected. ;) LOL!
Gwyn: Elf-angst? ELF-angst? Would *I* do such a thing? *grin*…that's like- a rhetorical question if I ever heard one. And what kind of IDIOT asks a rhetorical question? :P
Maranwe: Oooh yes, I can identify with that. Even *I'M* confused- and I wrote the dad-gum fic. ;) But I promise you- all will be answered it time. Gosh, I'm beginning to sound like Gandalf! :D
SilvanLegolas: Well, considering the word "Erfier" is now officially linked to Aragorn's "death", I can see why that bit of elvish would identify as a BAD NEWS, yeah… :D
Lady Sandry: OH WELCOME! Sorry you didn't get the news about posting- I'm not entirely sure my UPDATE EMAIL got to everybody. LOL! Glad you're enjoying the fic!
Witchmaster: Well- there are like 3 mysteries running through this fic right now…no wait…four. There are FOUR mysteries running through this fic right now, so it's not really a bit surprising that it's SO DARN CONFUSING, but I promise you, answers WILL come and not just at the END of the series. :D
Firnsarnien: LOL!! Well, THAT must be confusing. *grin* sorry 'bout that. Is it just saying the chapter does not exist? Cause if that's the case, you can go to the address bar, and where it says "&chapter=11" at the end, try typing "&chapter=11" AGAIN next to the first one. It almost ALWAYS works for me. :D
Szhismine: LOL! Well, you see, I HAVE to make their lives more and more difficult, or else it wouldn't be NEARLY as interesting a read. ;)
Shanna: ¡Gracias para leer! Soy feliz usted como mis historias. ¡Un saludo de América! :)
Lina: *watches Lina ride off on Shadowfax* Ooooh Gandalf is going to GET YOU! Lina: BIG DEAL! I've already got Eomer after me, what's another pursuer?! Me: *thinks* point. Eomer: Where is she?! Me: Who? Eomer: SHE! Me: Who…? Eomer: SHE!!! Me: WHO?! Eomer: SHE, She! Me: EOMER! Who are you TALKING about? Eomer: Oh. Lina. Me: Oh that she. Eomer: Yes. Me: THAT she. Eomer: YES! Me: You mean- Eomer: Yes…? Me: You mean the she that rode off on the Grey Pilgrim a few minutes ago, THAT she? Eomer: Yes, thank you for- WHAT?! *takes off* Me: Yeah. YOU'RE WELCOME. LOL!! :D Lina? You are- very interesting. ;)
Well- here we go, the 'torture' part of the 13 rating. *sheepish grin* but I'm not as bad with beating them up as Cassia, so don't be TOO worried. ;)
*****
Chapter 13
"I don't want to go back…"
Dimly, Legolas felt his knees hit the damp earth again. He was entirely exhausted, and yet he didn't fall from fatigue. It was those blasted orcs! If only they'd stop shoving him this way and that, he could stay on his feet. He put his still-bound hands that he'd worked over his head and out in front of him on the damp ground before him, and rested on hands and knees for a few precious moments.
But this time, he didn't feel rough hands pull him up again. All had come to a halt, and were staring around, looking for something.
"Uruk thrack-uk snaga!" Gandag shouted triumphantly. Legolas winced at the Black Speech, and doing his best to stay on his hands and knees, rather than collapse into the soft dirt, tried to move away from the orc speaking the black words.
"Skai!" came the response from somewhere in the undergrowth.
"Bú rz ash!" Gamdag shouted, turning around and gesturing to some orcs over his shoulder, who rushed forward with something between them. To Legolas' surprise, Aragorn was thrust into the mud beside him, looking dirty and bedraggled, but not too hurt, and very much conscious.
"Ea le mae, mellon nin?" Legolas whispered.
//are you all right, my friend?//
"No…" Aragorn shook his head, and didn't look at Legolas.
"What-" but Legolas was cut off as hair was seized by gnarled fingers of Gamdag, and the elf was hauled from his hands and knees to his knees alone.
"Agh ash sha-hai!" he shouted proudly, reveling cruelly as Legolas shied away from both his speech and the growing pain in his head. He would have struggled, he wanted to get away and kill the orc. It wouldn't have been hard, all he needed was a decently sharp stick, and he could kill Gamdag in a strike.
But he knew that there were a few Salab darts aimed at him, as well as Aragorn, and he wouldn't risk Aragorn's safety.
"Well, go on elf," Gamdag spat. "Say something! Prove to Tatra that I have brought back an elven prisoner!" Legolas steeled his jaw, causing Gamdag to shake the elf's head painfully. "Say something!"
"Ea le brand feredir, hiril im," Legolas hissed.
Before he'd time to think, he felt a painful shock go through his head, and his cheek hit something cold and trembling. He pushed himself up off of Aragorn's hand, and glanced up at his friend's curious look. At that he laughed quietly, causing Gamdag to pause in his continued Black Speech.
With another snap, Legolas felt his head hit again, and this time sprawled full on top of Aragorn, flattening the Ranger. "For your arrogance, elf," Gamdag snarled, using Legolas' race as a curse.
Legolas pushed himself off of Aragorn, allowing the human to rise shakily to his knees again, and sat back on his heals.
"Gamdag, enter!" shouted a graveled voice echoing with impatience. Proof he'd been repeating these words a few times.
Gamdag still stared at Legolas. "Do not laugh, impudent one. There will be nothing to laugh over soon, I assure you."
"I laugh because I've just complimented you, good lady, on being such a noble hunter. And yet you strike me?"
Gamdag made another aim, but Leoglas' reflexes were too much for him, and the elf ducked just as the blow flew towards him. Gamdag suddenly found himself turned around, his back to Legolas. Legolas didn't dare take this opportunity to aim a kick at the orc's unprotected back, knowing he would quickly endanger Aragorn, but he greatly enjoyed every moment of his temporary triumph.
"Gamdag!" Tatra shouted for a fourth time. "Are you bringing them or are you not?!"
Gamdag hissed with quiet rage. "Thrak-ul," he muttered to the ones over his shoulder, and they rushed forward to grab hold of Aragorn and Legolas. But at once, the orc seemed to have an idea and waiting till Legolas was in a firm grip, he approached the elf, smiling cruelly. "You had better behave yourself. I might just give that human of yours another strike with my knife…and you know, that knife isn't just any knife."
Gamdag reached to his belt, and pulled out a jagged knife, waving it under Legolas' nose. The elf recoiled into the orcs holding him as far as he could, a sudden tidal-wave of memories threatening to crush him along with the over-powering smell of Bengwiil. "Get it away from me!" he shouted, sending a knee into the orc's elbow, and knocking him back a few paces.
Gamdag didn't seem to mind as he waited for Legolas to recover and realize the full truth. It didn't take long. "You…" the elf's voice was suddenly small and frightened. "You stabbed Aragorn with that- that poisoned knife? You gave Aragorn Bengwiil?"
The orc licked his lips and nodded delightfully.
"Le ulund!" Legolas hissed, lunging at the orcs' grip. "I- I shall kill you! I shall *kill* you!" Gamdag stepped easily away from the thrashing elf, and looked over his shoulder.
"Brog?" The gigantic orc who'd been on Lint with Aragorn slid off the horse's pure back and ambled over to Gamdag, eyeing Legolas hungrily. "Seems we're having trouble keeping that elf down."
"Of course," Brog grinned, and advanced towards Legolas. Having very little time to think, Legolas waited for the split-second where neither the orcs retreating behind him nor Brog's hands were on him. Clasping his bound hands together in a united fist, he lurched forward and sent his fists into Gamdag's chin, sending the orc backwards by at least a few feet.
But his victory was short-lived. At once, there was an iron grip on his shoulder the jerked him back to his knees where he'd once been standing before. "What d'you say we get those hands back behind you, elf?" Brog leered.
Taking their cue, a few eager orcs latched their hands onto Legolas' waist, shoulders, and one even his neck, holding him in place. Struggling as usual, but helpless to their overwhelming strength, Legolas only clenched his teeth as Brog reached over his head, and grabbed his bound wrists.
Slowly, grinning toothily the whole time, the enormous orc pulled Legolas' arms over his head and towards his back. Half-way through, unable to keep quiet, Legolas cried out in pain, feeling his shoulder was about to dislodge.
"Hauta han!" he shouted, struggling frantically at their grip, and even knocking a few of the smaller ones off. But Brog only tugged harder on the elf's arms, trying to force them back behind his back. Legolas worked madly with his wrists, trying to twist them around, to align his arms the way they were supposed to be, rather than twisted to the sides.
At last, a bend of rope gave just a little, and Legolas' right wrist twisted around, allowing his right elbow to twist out to the side, lying evenly against his back, and relieving the sharp pain in his right arm. Hearing the elf sigh in relief, and taking that as a sign that they were done, Brog pushed Legolas' forward by his bound arms.
With a sickening *CRACK* hot pain shot through Legolas still crooked left arm as it was pressed bent to his back. With a cry, he flew forward with the force of Brog's push, and fell limply, bent double with the pain of his dislocated shoulder.
"Get him up!" Gamdag shouted gleefully, and Brog, a bit shocked, stumbled forward and snatched Legolas up by his shoulders. A cry ripped from Legolas' throat, and he thrashed about, trying to get out of the rough hold.
"Hold still!" Brog shouted, shaking him. "You'll make it worse, elf!" To Legolas' surprise, he heard fear in the orc's voice. He held still and panted for breath, doing his best to collect himself and ignore the pain. As his eyes swept the darkening clearing, a thought struck him.
"W-where is Aragorn?"
"What? Oh, the human." Brog looked up at Gamdag and sneered slightly. "Tatra took him up while you were having trouble with your elf, Gamdag."
A look of utter disgust over-took the orc's already hideous face. "Take the elf in then," he muttered, and Brog easily complied, a whole herd of orcs at his shoulder.
Legolas didn't even want the chance to bolt. Deep down, he hoped that Brog's grip on his shoulders didn't loosen, just so he wouldn't be tempted to make a break for it. He hurt all over, and desperately wanted to know where Aragorn was.
He trembled slightly at the thought of them poisoning his friend with Bengwiil. Where had they even found it? Well, it was no wonder Aragorn was acting so strangely. Legolas wondered distantly what Bengwiil did to Aragorn exactly. Legolas' greatest fear was losing the ones he loved, and that is why he dreamt his father was dieing before him and that Aragorn hated him when he was poisoned with the plant.
But what was Aragorn's greatest fear? What did he see?
"Down," came the gruff order of Brog over his shoulder. Numbly, he realized Brog had pushed him to his knees in front of a large tree-root sticking out of the ground. Brog moved to Legolas' side, and slipping one hand out to grasp his dislocated shoulder, he lay the other over the back of the elf's neck. As the orc pressed Legolas' forehead against the tree root, the prince felt Gamdag slice the ropes from his wrists.
Pain and relief rushed up Legolas' arms at the same time, but it didn't last long. No sooner had the cords fallen away, when another length of rope was twisting around his left hand. He felt a determined tug on the rope before the feeling went completely from his left hand, and at once, Brog let go of his neck. He kept his other hand on Legolas' shoulder, but now moved the one that had been on the elf's neck to his chest, allowing him to sit up on his heals a little.
Gamdag moved quickly in front of Legolas, and bringing his tied left hand around in front of him, looped the rope tight to the tree root. Bringing up the end, Gamdag soon had Legolas' right hand tied as well, and the two orcs stepped back satisfied.
"He's not going anywhere," Gamdag assured, surveying the rope that tied from Legolas' left hand to the root, from the root to his right hand, and from his right hand back to his left. And the two walked off, muttering.
Leoglas' first thought was, Why didn't they leave a guard? but that was pretty obvious. There were orcs everywhere. As torches began to light all over the darkening camp, Legolas realized there were hoards of them, and there was really no chance of running off without someone noticing, especially since the tree appeared to be directly in the center of camp.
Unable to get off his knees, Legolas rose as high as he could with his hands bound so close to the earth, and looked around. To his surprise, he found someone tied not a few feet away form him.
"Aragorn!"
The human looked around, and when he saw Legolas only a few feet down the tree root from him, he smiled, and whispered something that sounded like: 'Thank the Valar.'
The root that Legolas' hands were tied to appeared to dive under the earth and then reemerged a few feet away where Aragorn was tied. But unlike Legolas, Aragorn hadn't sat up as far as he could. In fact, he was sprawled out, slightly to the side, and his head rested on his bound hands. He looked uncomfortable, and yet he didn't seem to notice.
"Aragorn, are you all right?"
The human shook his head only slightly. With considerable effort, he turned his head to the side, and to Legolas' horror, there was a Salab dart buried in the back of his neck. "I heard you cry out, and I tried to run to you…I was so afraid, I wasn't thinking- I felt a sting in my neck, and next I knew, I couldn't move and Tatra and Dintrok were standing over me…"
"Sh…do not worry, I'll get it out." Legolas licked his lips, trying to think of a way. With no other better ideas, he began to hoist himself onto the tree root which appeared to be no more than a foot thick. Balancing his weight on it carefully, he inched backwards towards Aragorn as far as his hands, still bound to the tree root, would allow him. As he moved he could smell the deep and damp scent of sweet oak filling his nose, making him almost dizzy.
As he touched the ground again where the root ducked under the soft earth, he felt his arms straining. Reaching out with his foot, he did his best to look back to see what he was doing. He was in the right spot now, just barely at the end of where he could reach. Sliding his foot between where the dart protruded and the ground, he counted silently in his head, and in one, strong motion, he kicked his foot up in the air, and tore the dart from his friend's neck.
Aragorn, of course, didn't feel it, seeing the whole point of the dart was to numb him, but he jumped slightly at the sudden motion. Legolas crawled haphazardly back to where he wasn't straining his arms anymore, sitting on his heals once more. He glanced worriedly over at Aragorn, but fortunately, there wasn't too much blood trickling from the wound, and the little flow there was soon ceased.
"How do you feel?" he asked quietly.
"Well, I'm only just *starting* to feel."
Legolas smiled. "I mean, inside. Deeper. They said- they gave you Bengwiil?"
Aragorn nodded. "I was- terrified, but, well, I don't feel it anymore…the Bengwiil. I don't see what I was seeing or feel what I was feeling before. It's gone."
"It is?" Legolas was bewildered. "But it wasn't earlier, when I asked you if you were all right, you said 'no'."
"It's true." Aragorn shook his head. "I don't know, maybe I've had too much Bengwiil for a poisoned cut to do a whole lot."
"Perhaps." Aragorn's mention of a 'poisoned cut' made Legolas remember the human's previous wound. He glance nervously at his friend's torn arm. "Try and keep your other wounds concealed, my friend. I would hate for any of them to open more wounds than they already have."
Aragorn also glanced over at his shoulder, and then switched to look at Legolas. "You are the one who must concentrate on concealing yourself, Legolas. What will happen if they find out who you are?"
"Me?" Legolas snorted lightly. "I am the prince of Mirkwood, Aragorn. And so? It's not as if they've ever been the kind to much care about hostages, deals or ruling. All they want is their mindless, malicious enjoyment."
Aragorn shook his head. "I can't help but feel they want us alive, Legolas. And- that barricade of them we ran across? That was no accident. They were waiting up for us. And this campsite is well-used. They're doing something."
"I got that general impression myself. But I can't imagine it's all that much to worry over. Orcs are by nature disorganized."
"Maybe it's not just the orcs."
Legolas shrugged with a sigh, and did not respond. He was silently working at his ropes as the two had spoken, and he began to realize that unlike most orc-ropes, they did not bite into his wrists as he worked at them. Looking down in bewilderment, he realized something that sent a cold chill down his spine. "Elven," he whispered.
"What is it?" Aragorn asked, sitting up a little ways, as feeling had come back into his body, reminding him of the pain in his arm.
Legolas looked up quickly. "This is elven rope."
Aragorn looked down at his own bonds, and realized that they were not dark and coarse, but smoky-gray and gentle. The fine weaving did not hurt Aragorn's sore wrists, but held them firmly to the tree-root all the same.
Legolas groaned. "There is *no* way to break the strands of elven rope. Orcs are clumsy, but the elves-and especially the fine craftsmen of Lorié n, from whence we receive most of our ropes-they are careful and sure. But- there must be another way…"
Aragorn looked down at the his hands. "Could we not break the root?"
Legolas tested the idea against his ropes, tugging at them and wiggling the root just a little. "It is a foot thick, my friend, it will barely move, let alone break."
Aragorn shook his head. "Can you maybe-"
A loud scream of agony slashed the air, and the friends both looked up in shock. "No!" someone cried from across the encampment. "No, not- not more, I'll tell you- I'll tell you! Get away from me, I'll tell you!"
An orc's laugh curdled Legolas blood, as he realized that the screaming voice was that of an elf.
"You *will* tell me all I want to know, or I can simply-"
"Get away from me, please! Ask- ask me, anything, I'll tell you anything!"
"But we were hoping to give this another test, you know…"
"No please- kill me then, kill me but don't- please don't!"
"Very well…"
The voices became quieter, and Legolas alone could catch words here and there. Aragorn's human ears could only pick up the vague idea of speech over the camping orcs around them. But it didn't take long for the orcs to get bored of taking their captive quietly, and soon the voices were loud and in ear-shot once more.
"I tell you, he's the prince!"
"You're not just saying that to make us happy?" an orc purred maliciously. Legolas realized suddenly, now that the voices were loud again, that the commotion was coming from just around the tree they were bound to. Leaning back as far as his bound hands would permit, he craned his neck around the side of the trunk.
All he could see was the elf, but he was too shadowed by the flickering light to be recognizable. His arms were bound behind him, and about a dozen orcs surrounded him, pushing and shoving him towards something he did not want to get any closer to. It didn't take long to realize that it must be the orc who'd been taunting him.
"No! No, of course I'm not, I tell the truth, he *is* the prince!"
"Well," crooned the orc. "Shall we ask Little Whimper? Oh, I forgot." Legolas heard a leer emanate from the unseen orc. "He's dead."
The elf's fight settled, his body slackened somewhat, and Legolas watched piteously as his head hung slightly in obvious grief. "Ulund. To take my friend from me…" the words were so low, so drowned-out by the jeering crowd of orcs surrounding the imprisoned elf, that only Legolas caught the soft words of anger and hurt. He felt a strange sense of recognition, and fought to think of who of the Mirkwood elves would be here at this time.
With a sting of pain, an awful thought struck him. Edren. But no, the elf standing among the orcs was definitely not Edren, for Legolas knew his friend too well to have not recognized him right off. Daurrè? Horrified, Legolas hoped to Ilúvatar that it was not. What if the dead one he spoke of was Edren?
He pushed the thoughts away, bringing his concentration back to the struggle before him.
"I don't know," the elf was pleading softly.
"You know, if you know the prince you now his friend, who is the human?!"
"I swear I do not know! He is a human of the prince's acquaintance, that is all!"
Legolas flinched along with the elf as the orc struck at him, coming at last into view. He looked huge and strong like Brog, but whether it was him or not it was impossible to tell, seeing that most orcs looked alike.
"You lie!" the orc cried.
"I swear I do not! I swear on the Valar, on my dear friend passed to Mandos, I do not lie!"
"I shall get the truth out of you, elf," the orc spat. "A prince makes no friends among common mortals! Who is he?!"
"I tell the truth, he is but a-"
The orc's hand was swinging back once more, almost in slow motion, it seemed. Before he could think, words were spilling from Legolas' throat. "He tells the truth, filth! Estel, the human with me is but a friend among mortals, and think not the elves too high to make allies among such beings. At least think *me* not so, for he is who my elven friend says he is, and I am indeed Legolas prince of Mirkwood."
The orc turned, his hand falling limply to his side. Legolas had his attention, as well as everyone else's. "Legolas…" it was Aragorn, a note of worry stringing its way through his voice, but Legolas could pay it no heed, not while he still had the orcish audience captive.
"Touch that elf but once more, and I swear by the fair woods of Lorié n that I-"
"That you'll what, Lenglas?" the orc spat, remembering Legolas' admission to his rank and name only vaguely, and thereby getting it quite wrong. It almost made Aragorn laugh to hear his friend's name mispronounced by someone trying to be forbidding. "You're tied up, don't forget."
"Ah, and if I have a chance to run away, I shall take it gladly. No matter what you do to me. In fact, I do believe I'd prefer forcing you to kill me as I run, for that alone shall stop me!"
"You *wish* me to kill you for trying to get away?" the orc demanded coolly.
Legolas stared back at him, his own gaze just as icy. "If I must. Leave him alone, or you will be forced to kill me."
"No, I doubt very much that I'll *have* to do anything. And really, I'd look forward to killing any elf, and you have no proof of who you say you are. Can you *prove* that you are Lolas of Mirkwood?!"
"No," Legolas responded flatly. "And I can't *prove* that I am Legolas Greenleaf, prince of Mirkwood either. But then there is chance in everything, and this is one that you will have to take. Have you ever glanced upon King Thranduil?"
The orc growled something to his companion, who nodded and sped off into the darkness. "We will have this cleared up soon enough," the orc drawled, clearly bored with the entire situation, and wanting only to have blood.
It didn't take long for the orc to come back, another much taller, much sneakier-looking orc coming up behind him. "Maklu!" shouted the orc who'd been speaking with Legolas. "You alone would know what the prince of Mirkwood looks like, don't you?"
Maklu shoved past the orcs around him, and approached Legolas slowly. Catching the elf's chin between his grimy fingers, he tipped Legolas' head back till he was looking directly into his deep blue eyes. Legolas glared up at Maklu who only smiled darkly, his red-orange eyes crackling with satisfied flames.
"It is their prince," he confirmed, pushing Legolas' head away from him, and sending the prince sliding to the side. "Well done for calling me, Kuur. This is just what we need! He shall be our key to Mirkwood's king!"
Legolas felt his throat go dry as the orcs around him cheered. Aragorn was right, and as Legolas made his way to his knees again, he heard the human whispered something akin to: 'Oh dear…'
Kuur seemed to be taking pride in notifying Maklu, but was still looking a bit disappointed. "What of the *other* elf, Maklu? May we kill him?"
"No," said Maklu, almost lazily surveying the shivering elf held among the orcs. "We need something to keep our *prince* in-line, and the more elves, the better the chance of taking Mirkwood." Kuur's face fell in disappointment.
"Wait! Maklu, wait!" Gamdag pushed towards the front of the crowd. "*I* am the one who caught the prince, as well as his friend! What is *my* reward?"
"What do you want, Gamdag?" Maklu demanded sourly.
"I stand with all on this- I want blood!"
A cry rose from all the orcs assembled, and several began to chant loudly, "Blood! Blood!"
"You shall have your blood then, Gamdag." Maklu cried over the crowd, and the entire horde cried the louder in delight. Maklu called over his shoulder, and Gamdag and Brog both happily jumped to his side.
Legolas moved over as far as he could, and tried to hear what they were saying, but the crowd had become so deafening, he couldn't only catch a few words like, "both elves" and "don't need him" and several times, "he said so".
Before Legolas could react, Brog had blundered forward, and grabbed at the root Aragorn was bound to. Jerking it with amazing strength, it came snapping out of the ground, sending damp woodchips flying at Legolas, and causing the elf to duck to avoid getting them in his eyes.
When Legolas looked up again, he was met with a horrible sight. Brog had snatched Aragorn up off the ground, the broken root still hanging from the human's bound wrists, and the orcs were beginning to throng around the two. Gamdag leapt in, screaming about how it was *his* reward, and snatched Aragorn's stringy hair in his claws.
"Legolas!" Aragorn cried, pushing against his captors.
"Hold!" Maklu hollered, and the crowd's wild screams bubbled to a half-stop. "Brog, Gamdag, here."
The two came to the front of the crowd, Aragorn still clutched between them. Brog quickly forced Argorn to his knees, and the young Ranger only barely caught himself on his bound hands.
"This is your last words time," Maklu sneered, obviously getting more pleasure out of the emotional pain than the human's blood itself.
Legolas looked deep into Aragorn's eyes, trying to find a way out. His hand were working furiously at the ropes, and yet they wouldn't give, and he was losing all feeling he'd had in them to the struggle. All he could see in his friend's eyes was fear trying to be brave.
Legolas felt a hopeless panic rising in his chest, seizing his breath up with every inhale. "Don't go…" he begged, looking hard at Aragorn as though trying to burn his face into his memory. "Don't go, not again."
"I don't want to go," Aragorn promised. "Legolas, I don't want to…It is better this way. It is better that you don't- that you…" Aragorn's lips began to shake as fear started to take him over. "That you don't have to see me die."
"Oh Aragorn," Legolas' breath was sobbing, and it made speech nearly impossible. "I don't know what I'll do…what'll I do without you? I don't want to go back to that dark place…not again. It's…it is cold there, Aragorn. It is a cold, dark place without you…I don't want to go back…"
"Legolas, you *know* what to do." And for the first time, Aragorn smiled just a little. But it was a distant, sad smile. "You know."
Legolas shook his head. "No- no please…no I don't want to…I don't want-"
"Do not despair."
Legolas was crying softly.
"Hold onto hope, Legolas. Keep Estel alive." And then the smile vanished, and Aragorn's face was left looking lost and pleading. "And…and don't forget me?"
Legolas couldn't feel his wrists anymore, and was beginning to lose feeling in his arms altogether. He couldn't save Aragorn. He couldn't save his friend. It was the same thing all over again. Aragorn was going to die, and leave Legolas in a half-life. A thought whispered coldly into his mind, and he moved forward a bit, trying to get closer to Aragorn. "I- I cannot hear your laughter anymore…" a tear slipped silent down his cheek.
A smile tugged unwillingly at Aragorn's lips, but he shook his head. "I can't do it, Legolas."
Legolas nodded. "Aragorn…" but the name fell silent from his lips. He couldn't speak. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't dare to believe that Aragorn was leaving him. With no doubt of his death this time.
But it doesn't have to be that way. something in his head whispered. This is your second chance. The second chance you've always wanted. But it's slipping away…
Aragorn was being dragged back from him, the orcs were crowding about once more, and Maklu was smiling maliciously down at him. Some orc drew a knife from his belt, and another shouted. "The cave! To the cave! We'll do it there!"
"Estel…" the name fell dead on the air, and Legolas felt left behind and broken.
But it doesn't have to be that way. The way it was when he died last. It can be different, but this is your only chance to make it different.
"Aragorn!" Legolas cried, his voice breaking with heartache. "Aragorn! I will not despair! I will keep hope! I will hold onto hope, I will keep Estel alive! I promise, Aragorn! I will *not* despair! Aragorn!"
Leoglas got as high on his knees as he could, and searched the crowd. He could only just see where he thought Aragorn was. Several of the orcs had quieted down, surprised by Legolas shoutings, but Legolas could only hope that Aragorn could hear him.
"Wen uuye giri na gwaew, Aragorn! Na wen mav-am ui-brono! Brono!"
//friendship does not waver at a wind, Aragorn! And a friendship like ours lasts forever! Forever!//
Legolas caught only one last look at Aragorn. There were tears streaming down the human's face, mixing with blood trickling from his cheek. He looked so small and frightened, it rent Legolas' heart in two. But then Brog pushed his way to Aragorn, and Legolas could no longer see the human as the hoard disappeared into the murky mist.