DISCLAIMER ~ Same as last time. I don't own J. R. R. Tolkien's stuff.
THANKS TO ~
~ Devie Saves ~ Yeah, I am writing an original fic. 5 years have gone into it and it is so interesting to see how the plot eventually evolves. I've thrown myself into the deep end with it (them, it's a trilogy), but humans are adaptable creatures so by the end I suppose I will be swimming like a dolphin through the work! I don't want to post it to FictionPress coz I have connections through my job so maybe I'll get my writing published for a change instead of just my drawings!
~ orligurl88 ~ The revenge! Ha ha, the revenge! You'll see . . .
~ szhismine ~ I was proud of the stupid bastard part, I'm glad you liked it!
~ Lyn ~ Yep, I made 'em stumble in this one. I hope it's a bit more plausible.
~ Will_gurl ~ Are you American? This will be embarrassing if you are a brit like me. . . we don't have a junior or senior year of high school in Britain (please say you are American coz this will be so embarrassing if you are British). But you could say I'm a senior, coz the top 2 years of my school (year 10 and 11) are the seniors, and I'm in year 10. (I'm 14 years old).
~ lolly pop ~ Thanks! I try to update ASAP but it's hard with all my coursework.
~ bunny-luvver ~ Here's the next chapter, I hope you find it as interesting as the others!
~ Sparrow Greenleaf ~ So you like elf torture? :D
~ Lux-soap ~ Always luvvin' you. Nuff said.
~ Crinkle ~ Sorry, I take very long to update but no knee begging please! :D
~ Wilwarin ~ Blimey, that's a lot of elvish types! Is it confusing? It's based on Gaelic and stuff isn't it? My English teacher is Welsh and when I wrote out Arwen's Ford Summoning Spell thingy on the board he recognised some of the words.
~ Black Hawk ~ No, The Bridle does not have a bit, but some of them have blinkers but not on Legolas' or Haldir's or Elladan's or Elrohir's.
~ ElvenRanger13 ~ I TAKE IT YOU LIKE TO USE CAPITAL LETTERS! :D
NOTE ~ (. . . . . .) = elvish
NOTE ~ This idea of mine is odd. You may accept it; you may not. I have also had to invent a new wizard; he is The Black, y'know, like Saruman the White and Gandalf the Grey. It is an odd idea, well I think so anyway. Please tell me what you think afterwards. I am very wary of the fact that this might be a total flop.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Chapter Four ~ The Camp
So onwards they trudged, up the hills and down the hills, through the dells and along the gorges. Dim Jim was being his usual grumpy self, refusing to walk on and holding up the train. Rularian's temper was running short, the sun was high and they needed to reach the camp before nightfall at least. It was the hottest time of the day and the elves were suffering. Rularian rode up and down the train, checking his men and the elves. He saw the elves licking their dry lips often, hanging their heads and tripping every now and then. The prince looked the worse of the four, his wounds had split and his back was a mess of blood and dust. The man knew that the gashes would soon become infected.
'HALT!' he roared.
They train came to a halt and all eyes turned to the back and rested upon their leader.
'Banes, Landan, get here now!'
Banes and Landan dismounted before hurrying to Rularian.
'Landan, give the elves some drink; they're almost dead by the looks of them. And Banes -'
Rularian looked down at the scowling man.
'- Untie the prince and clean his back.'
With a nod Banes silently carried out his master's wish. As the elf was untied he slumped into the arms of the man, coughing dryly. Landan held a small shallow pan of water to Legolas' mouth and the liquid was consumed gratefully. Rularian instructed Banes to lay the elf prince on the ground, face down. Together the three men carefully cleaned out the cuts. When it was done Banes looked up at his master, a dark and questioning look upon his face.
'Why do you care for him so?'
Rularian stared back in surprise.
'He is expensive, Banes. He needs to be kept in very good condition.'
Banes frowned.
'Well then you should not have whipped his back into such a bad condition.'
Rularian glared angrily with his teeth bared at the boldness and stupidity of the other man.
'He needed punishing!'
'You are contradicting your self, *master*.'
The master growled and drew his sword, the sharp edge at Banes' neck. All was silent save the gentle breeze and the hunting eagles. Even Dim Jim made no noise. Banes glared darkly, though the beads of sweat rolled down his forehead.
'If you question my actions one more time Banes I will have your head on a plaque.'
Banes nodded quickly, knowing that incidents such as this had occurred in the past and had resulted in headless men.
'Good. Now fetch me one of the spare cloaks.'
Banes hurried to do his mater's bidding and returned with a clean cloak. Rularian snatched it from the other and knelt beside Legolas, lifting him up so that he was kneeling as well. Legolas did not protest; he was surprised at how weak and tired he had become. Rularian ripped up the cloak into long shreds and wrapped them around the elf's torso. He tied the material tightly at the front to stop dust getting into the wounds and to prevent further bleeding.
As Rularian was tying the bits of cloak he quickly glanced at Legolas' face, expecting to see his head drooped and his eyes shut. He faltered slightly when he came eye to eye with the elf. At such a close proximity Rularian felt incredibly intimidated. He returned his eyes to the makeshift bandages, working as swiftly as possible, though he could feel the hateful glare of Legolas burning deeply into him. He wondered why this particular elf had such a hold over him.
The business was done; the elves were given water and a small lump of bread each before they were tethered to the train again. Once more they set off, but this time Dim Jim decided to behave himself. He knew that the quicker they went the quicker he would get those oats at The Camp. Rularian had refrained from riding up and down to check on his men and the elves, he was far too wary of Legolas' hate to do so.
Time passed slowly but the day came to the point when and sun would set within the next hour or so, meaning that it was late afternoon. Legolas took note of this and his weary eyes wandered up the slope of the steep hill that they had come to. He saw something at the distant peak. It was obviously a tall wall of some kind, fashioned from wood with barbs along the top, and within the tall wall there was a tall door where above there flickered two black flags.
This was The Camp.
Dim Jim set up a dreadful racket, pawing at the dust and weeds with his hoof. The men grinned and exchanged relieved glances, the elves looked stricken and pale. Rularian took a horn from his belt, which, for some reason, Legolas had not noticed before, and he put it to his lips and two lingering notes were emitted into the dry air. Two more lingering notes that came from the camp answered the noise. The vast doors were opened and out sprang a man on his horse, cantering down the lengthy but steep slant of the hill. He reached the ground and halted.
'What is your business, Rularian? To beg for rations or to deliver slaves? The numbers of captured elves are falling. We need more slaves; we cannot move our siege weapons! Tell me you have slaves, man!'
Rularian sneered.
'Calm yourself, Beronam. Four strong and healthy ones right here. . .'
The men and their horses moved apart to reveal Legolas, Haldir, Elladan and Elrohir. Beronam gasped and then grinned wickedly.
'Bring them straight in.'
Rularian grinned his own wicked grin and signalled to his band of men to follow him and Beronam up the hill, with the elves behind. The way up was difficult. The elves, despite the fact that they had been given water *and* food, were now very weak. As they climbed the minutes dragged on and became hours. It seemed that the top of the hill would never arrive. At last it did. They were untied from the train, though they were still tied to each other, and thrown to the ground at the feet of the colossal door that faced them, the gateway to The Camp - and their inevitable doom. Beronam took the horn that hung at his side and blew three blasts. There was a pause and then the vast doors slowly opened, the wood creaked, and the sounds from within were gradually unleashed.
When the doors were fully open all the elves could do was gape in horror. There were twenty or so elves tethered beside what looked like stables, though the beings were hardly recognisable as elves. Within the centre of the large Camp was an arena, nothing but a rectangular area that was fenced in. At either side of the arena were stables, horses on the right side, elves on the left. Beyond that fenced in rectangle were huts, probably where the men slept. Legolas could see them milling about, some grooming the horses, others punishing the elves and a few were seeing to the part of the fence that was damaged.
Rularian glanced around, his eyes searching. After a minute or two he found who he was searching for and rode over, ordering his men to follow with the slaves. Legolas, along with the others, saw no need to run or refuse so they slowly followed the men who were heading to the other side of The Camp. They chose to go down the left hand side of the arena. The sight of the other enslaved elves was awful. Legolas eyed them with pity. Their scales shone in the sun, their scars glared angrily and their faces were filled with a sadness that ripped out Legolas' heart. He sharply turned his head and kept his eyes on the hooves of the horse in front of him.
When they all reached the other side they stopped. Legolas saw a man and a wizard in conversation. He was not Mithrandir or Saruman, not even Radagast the Brown who Legolas had only heard of. This wizard was garbed from head to foot in black robes. His long, long beard was black as was his equally long hair, and his spiralled staff was carved from the darkest wood that Legolas had ever seen. He turned his eyes to the man. He had dark brown hair just like Rularian, and was tall and brawny - Legolas frowned - just like Rularian.
'Rulorion! Brother dear!' cried Rularian, giving his sibling a mock bow, bending ridiculously low and twirling his hands with a flourish.
'Rularian! Darling brat!' came the cheery reply. Rularian straightened immediately and gave his brother a scowl.
'I have brought *four* slaves for you!'
Rulorion, (a stupidly similar name to Rularian if Legolas was to be asked) walked over to inspect the elves. Rularian grasped Haldir's shoulder.
'This one is called Haldir; he is from Lothlórien. He is strong and tame.'
Rulorion nodded. Rularian went to the next.
'These are the twin sons of Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir.'
Again Rulorion nodded. 'Very good,' he said.
At last Rularian came to Legolas.
'And *this*,' he said excitedly, 'is Prince Legolas of Mirkwood!'
Rulorion gasped, as did the Black Wizard.
'A prince!' he stammered. 'Are you quite mad?'
Rularian's excited grin faltered. His big brother did not seem pleased.
'Rularian. . .'
The younger brother grimaced.
'I love you more than ever! You sly one! A prince! How did you do it? That will show those elves!'
He clapped his hand on his young brother's shoulder and said sincerely and dramatically, 'I think we need a long talk.'
They laughed and briefly embraced before Rulorion faced the elves.
'You are *my* slaves now. You will do as I say and no doubt you have heard the rest of this lecture from my brother. In the morning you will fully become one of my slaves and Daltreth the Black will see to that. Beronam! Take them to their new stables. In fact, put them all in. And don't forget to bolt those bloody doors like you did last time! It is a good thing the elves were too tired to realise that the door were not locked. . . '
Beronam nodded, Rulorion and Rularian along with Daltreth went into the living quarters while Rularian's band dismounted and went to see to their horses. Legolas, Haldir, Elladan and Elrohir found themselves being dragged away towards the Elf Stables by several strong men. They saw the other elves being untied and led away, and noticed they wore mesh muzzles, for the mens' safety most likely, judging by the mouths of fangs all around. Legolas shuddered. He would look like that in the morning when Daltreth the Black had cast his dark magic. His eyes would glitter in a sinister way. His hands would become claws, a useful weapon, only to be blunted for safety. His teeth would be fangs, another weapon, and they would be kept behind a muzzle. His legs would be scaly and dragonish and he would go on all fours like an animal, his tail sweeping out behind. Legolas was not looking forward to becoming a beast of burden.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
AN ~ Who has written their Christmas list? ME ME ME!!!! Anyway. . . I told you it was an odd idea. I'll only know if *you* think it's odd if you review. I won't change it if you don't like it because I can't, and I won't give up either. Chapter 5 up ASAP.
THANKS TO ~
~ Devie Saves ~ Yeah, I am writing an original fic. 5 years have gone into it and it is so interesting to see how the plot eventually evolves. I've thrown myself into the deep end with it (them, it's a trilogy), but humans are adaptable creatures so by the end I suppose I will be swimming like a dolphin through the work! I don't want to post it to FictionPress coz I have connections through my job so maybe I'll get my writing published for a change instead of just my drawings!
~ orligurl88 ~ The revenge! Ha ha, the revenge! You'll see . . .
~ szhismine ~ I was proud of the stupid bastard part, I'm glad you liked it!
~ Lyn ~ Yep, I made 'em stumble in this one. I hope it's a bit more plausible.
~ Will_gurl ~ Are you American? This will be embarrassing if you are a brit like me. . . we don't have a junior or senior year of high school in Britain (please say you are American coz this will be so embarrassing if you are British). But you could say I'm a senior, coz the top 2 years of my school (year 10 and 11) are the seniors, and I'm in year 10. (I'm 14 years old).
~ lolly pop ~ Thanks! I try to update ASAP but it's hard with all my coursework.
~ bunny-luvver ~ Here's the next chapter, I hope you find it as interesting as the others!
~ Sparrow Greenleaf ~ So you like elf torture? :D
~ Lux-soap ~ Always luvvin' you. Nuff said.
~ Crinkle ~ Sorry, I take very long to update but no knee begging please! :D
~ Wilwarin ~ Blimey, that's a lot of elvish types! Is it confusing? It's based on Gaelic and stuff isn't it? My English teacher is Welsh and when I wrote out Arwen's Ford Summoning Spell thingy on the board he recognised some of the words.
~ Black Hawk ~ No, The Bridle does not have a bit, but some of them have blinkers but not on Legolas' or Haldir's or Elladan's or Elrohir's.
~ ElvenRanger13 ~ I TAKE IT YOU LIKE TO USE CAPITAL LETTERS! :D
NOTE ~ (. . . . . .) = elvish
NOTE ~ This idea of mine is odd. You may accept it; you may not. I have also had to invent a new wizard; he is The Black, y'know, like Saruman the White and Gandalf the Grey. It is an odd idea, well I think so anyway. Please tell me what you think afterwards. I am very wary of the fact that this might be a total flop.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Chapter Four ~ The Camp
So onwards they trudged, up the hills and down the hills, through the dells and along the gorges. Dim Jim was being his usual grumpy self, refusing to walk on and holding up the train. Rularian's temper was running short, the sun was high and they needed to reach the camp before nightfall at least. It was the hottest time of the day and the elves were suffering. Rularian rode up and down the train, checking his men and the elves. He saw the elves licking their dry lips often, hanging their heads and tripping every now and then. The prince looked the worse of the four, his wounds had split and his back was a mess of blood and dust. The man knew that the gashes would soon become infected.
'HALT!' he roared.
They train came to a halt and all eyes turned to the back and rested upon their leader.
'Banes, Landan, get here now!'
Banes and Landan dismounted before hurrying to Rularian.
'Landan, give the elves some drink; they're almost dead by the looks of them. And Banes -'
Rularian looked down at the scowling man.
'- Untie the prince and clean his back.'
With a nod Banes silently carried out his master's wish. As the elf was untied he slumped into the arms of the man, coughing dryly. Landan held a small shallow pan of water to Legolas' mouth and the liquid was consumed gratefully. Rularian instructed Banes to lay the elf prince on the ground, face down. Together the three men carefully cleaned out the cuts. When it was done Banes looked up at his master, a dark and questioning look upon his face.
'Why do you care for him so?'
Rularian stared back in surprise.
'He is expensive, Banes. He needs to be kept in very good condition.'
Banes frowned.
'Well then you should not have whipped his back into such a bad condition.'
Rularian glared angrily with his teeth bared at the boldness and stupidity of the other man.
'He needed punishing!'
'You are contradicting your self, *master*.'
The master growled and drew his sword, the sharp edge at Banes' neck. All was silent save the gentle breeze and the hunting eagles. Even Dim Jim made no noise. Banes glared darkly, though the beads of sweat rolled down his forehead.
'If you question my actions one more time Banes I will have your head on a plaque.'
Banes nodded quickly, knowing that incidents such as this had occurred in the past and had resulted in headless men.
'Good. Now fetch me one of the spare cloaks.'
Banes hurried to do his mater's bidding and returned with a clean cloak. Rularian snatched it from the other and knelt beside Legolas, lifting him up so that he was kneeling as well. Legolas did not protest; he was surprised at how weak and tired he had become. Rularian ripped up the cloak into long shreds and wrapped them around the elf's torso. He tied the material tightly at the front to stop dust getting into the wounds and to prevent further bleeding.
As Rularian was tying the bits of cloak he quickly glanced at Legolas' face, expecting to see his head drooped and his eyes shut. He faltered slightly when he came eye to eye with the elf. At such a close proximity Rularian felt incredibly intimidated. He returned his eyes to the makeshift bandages, working as swiftly as possible, though he could feel the hateful glare of Legolas burning deeply into him. He wondered why this particular elf had such a hold over him.
The business was done; the elves were given water and a small lump of bread each before they were tethered to the train again. Once more they set off, but this time Dim Jim decided to behave himself. He knew that the quicker they went the quicker he would get those oats at The Camp. Rularian had refrained from riding up and down to check on his men and the elves, he was far too wary of Legolas' hate to do so.
Time passed slowly but the day came to the point when and sun would set within the next hour or so, meaning that it was late afternoon. Legolas took note of this and his weary eyes wandered up the slope of the steep hill that they had come to. He saw something at the distant peak. It was obviously a tall wall of some kind, fashioned from wood with barbs along the top, and within the tall wall there was a tall door where above there flickered two black flags.
This was The Camp.
Dim Jim set up a dreadful racket, pawing at the dust and weeds with his hoof. The men grinned and exchanged relieved glances, the elves looked stricken and pale. Rularian took a horn from his belt, which, for some reason, Legolas had not noticed before, and he put it to his lips and two lingering notes were emitted into the dry air. Two more lingering notes that came from the camp answered the noise. The vast doors were opened and out sprang a man on his horse, cantering down the lengthy but steep slant of the hill. He reached the ground and halted.
'What is your business, Rularian? To beg for rations or to deliver slaves? The numbers of captured elves are falling. We need more slaves; we cannot move our siege weapons! Tell me you have slaves, man!'
Rularian sneered.
'Calm yourself, Beronam. Four strong and healthy ones right here. . .'
The men and their horses moved apart to reveal Legolas, Haldir, Elladan and Elrohir. Beronam gasped and then grinned wickedly.
'Bring them straight in.'
Rularian grinned his own wicked grin and signalled to his band of men to follow him and Beronam up the hill, with the elves behind. The way up was difficult. The elves, despite the fact that they had been given water *and* food, were now very weak. As they climbed the minutes dragged on and became hours. It seemed that the top of the hill would never arrive. At last it did. They were untied from the train, though they were still tied to each other, and thrown to the ground at the feet of the colossal door that faced them, the gateway to The Camp - and their inevitable doom. Beronam took the horn that hung at his side and blew three blasts. There was a pause and then the vast doors slowly opened, the wood creaked, and the sounds from within were gradually unleashed.
When the doors were fully open all the elves could do was gape in horror. There were twenty or so elves tethered beside what looked like stables, though the beings were hardly recognisable as elves. Within the centre of the large Camp was an arena, nothing but a rectangular area that was fenced in. At either side of the arena were stables, horses on the right side, elves on the left. Beyond that fenced in rectangle were huts, probably where the men slept. Legolas could see them milling about, some grooming the horses, others punishing the elves and a few were seeing to the part of the fence that was damaged.
Rularian glanced around, his eyes searching. After a minute or two he found who he was searching for and rode over, ordering his men to follow with the slaves. Legolas, along with the others, saw no need to run or refuse so they slowly followed the men who were heading to the other side of The Camp. They chose to go down the left hand side of the arena. The sight of the other enslaved elves was awful. Legolas eyed them with pity. Their scales shone in the sun, their scars glared angrily and their faces were filled with a sadness that ripped out Legolas' heart. He sharply turned his head and kept his eyes on the hooves of the horse in front of him.
When they all reached the other side they stopped. Legolas saw a man and a wizard in conversation. He was not Mithrandir or Saruman, not even Radagast the Brown who Legolas had only heard of. This wizard was garbed from head to foot in black robes. His long, long beard was black as was his equally long hair, and his spiralled staff was carved from the darkest wood that Legolas had ever seen. He turned his eyes to the man. He had dark brown hair just like Rularian, and was tall and brawny - Legolas frowned - just like Rularian.
'Rulorion! Brother dear!' cried Rularian, giving his sibling a mock bow, bending ridiculously low and twirling his hands with a flourish.
'Rularian! Darling brat!' came the cheery reply. Rularian straightened immediately and gave his brother a scowl.
'I have brought *four* slaves for you!'
Rulorion, (a stupidly similar name to Rularian if Legolas was to be asked) walked over to inspect the elves. Rularian grasped Haldir's shoulder.
'This one is called Haldir; he is from Lothlórien. He is strong and tame.'
Rulorion nodded. Rularian went to the next.
'These are the twin sons of Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir.'
Again Rulorion nodded. 'Very good,' he said.
At last Rularian came to Legolas.
'And *this*,' he said excitedly, 'is Prince Legolas of Mirkwood!'
Rulorion gasped, as did the Black Wizard.
'A prince!' he stammered. 'Are you quite mad?'
Rularian's excited grin faltered. His big brother did not seem pleased.
'Rularian. . .'
The younger brother grimaced.
'I love you more than ever! You sly one! A prince! How did you do it? That will show those elves!'
He clapped his hand on his young brother's shoulder and said sincerely and dramatically, 'I think we need a long talk.'
They laughed and briefly embraced before Rulorion faced the elves.
'You are *my* slaves now. You will do as I say and no doubt you have heard the rest of this lecture from my brother. In the morning you will fully become one of my slaves and Daltreth the Black will see to that. Beronam! Take them to their new stables. In fact, put them all in. And don't forget to bolt those bloody doors like you did last time! It is a good thing the elves were too tired to realise that the door were not locked. . . '
Beronam nodded, Rulorion and Rularian along with Daltreth went into the living quarters while Rularian's band dismounted and went to see to their horses. Legolas, Haldir, Elladan and Elrohir found themselves being dragged away towards the Elf Stables by several strong men. They saw the other elves being untied and led away, and noticed they wore mesh muzzles, for the mens' safety most likely, judging by the mouths of fangs all around. Legolas shuddered. He would look like that in the morning when Daltreth the Black had cast his dark magic. His eyes would glitter in a sinister way. His hands would become claws, a useful weapon, only to be blunted for safety. His teeth would be fangs, another weapon, and they would be kept behind a muzzle. His legs would be scaly and dragonish and he would go on all fours like an animal, his tail sweeping out behind. Legolas was not looking forward to becoming a beast of burden.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
AN ~ Who has written their Christmas list? ME ME ME!!!! Anyway. . . I told you it was an odd idea. I'll only know if *you* think it's odd if you review. I won't change it if you don't like it because I can't, and I won't give up either. Chapter 5 up ASAP.