Augh. The title and summary for this story both suck, so if you're reading
it- THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!! I'm okay really.
To my reviewers:
Kat (mak4): Ummm, right. See? I told you you were only typing random letters! HA! Happy Birthday!
Sticky Elf: I know what you mean about imaging Estel as a scared little teenager. It's fun though.
Evelyn-aka-Evie: Yes! I do miss the Jesus Christ Super Frog. *Sniff* Weren't we going to give him a funeral?
*
Light filled his mind, flitting away and drawing near again. Sounds become clearer. Voices. Thuds. Distant screams.
Estel opened his eyes and groaned as pain filled his head.
"Hush," Elladan said. He held Estel's head in his lap and was rubbing the boy's forehead to help relieve the pain. His eyes were focused elsewhere, watching some scene intently. Estel couldn't see, but he could tell it was not good. Elladan's teeth were gritted, as though fighting away pain, or holding himself back. Estel pushed himself up. They were in a cold dank room with a stone floor. Moldy hay was piled in a corner, filling the room with a sickeningly sweet smell. The one open wall of the miniscule room locked them in with thick iron bars. Through the bars, Estel could see the stone floor continued into a huge open hall. Orcs ran about, some making things, some slaving over hot fires, other just scurrying by. In the centre of the room, Elrohir stood, facing the man from before. His hands were still bound behind his back, and his feet were tied together.
"Now I ask you again, who are you?" the man demanded. He was holding a heavy-looking club.
"An elf," Elrohir answered simply. The man took the club and slammed it into Elrohir's stomach. He doubled over, gasping for breath, and was tripped to the floor by the rope binding his ankles.
"Get up!" the man screamed, hauling him to his feet. He slammed the club into Elrohir's stomach once more, and then hit him across the back.
"Why is he doing this?" Estel whispered, horrified. Elladan turned to him.
"He wishes to know who we are; our sire; where we dwell. This man grows infuriated easily, particularly when he does not receive what he wishes." Elladan winced. "I have already held my turn." Estel noticed a deep gash over his left eye, still bleeding lightly. They turned back to look at Elrohir. He was crumpled on the floor, and seemed to be having trouble breathing. Elladan whispered something Estel couldn't catch. Slowly Elrohir's breathing calmed and, although he did not get up, he raised his head to meet the man's eyes steadily.
"I am losing patience," the man said. "I will ask you one more time. Who are you? And don't tell me an elf. I can see that much. Where are you from? Who is your father?" Elrohir only looked at him. "Very well." The man ordered something they could not understand. Three orcs hauled Elrohir into place. Elladan grasped at the bars. Elrohir's breath hitched as he watched something move toward him. An orc came into view, holding a poker with a red-hot tip. Estel's eyes widened.
"No!" he yelled, as the poker tip rested against Elrohir's arm and Elrohir resisted the urge to cry out. The man shouted an order and the orc immediately pulled away.
"Estel," Elladan hissed, as the man walked toward them.
"Come here, boy," he ordered, opening the gate and pulling him out. He led Estel to the centre of the hall where he had stood with Elrohir. He motioned the orc into place, this time with the poker inches fro Elrohir's face. "Perhaps you can offer me what these two won't. Tell me, who are you? Who are they? Where do you come from?"
"I-" Estel began.
"No, Estel!" Elrohir yelled.
"Estel?" the man repeated. "Hope? How absolutely disgusting." He threw his club down with a large clatter. "I grow tired of theses games! Where is Serin? Have her take them all away." An orc walked over to him.
"My lord? She is no here. I no know where she is." Obviously irritated, the man walked over to a box on the wall.
"Serin!" he screamed. "Come here immediately." Within minutes, a girl raced into the hall through a set of heavy stone doors. She was wearing a straight black skirt and blood red shirt. Her blue eyes were surrounded with black eye make up.
"What do you wish of me, my lord?" she questioned, lowering her head subserviently despite being only a few inches shorter than him.
"Where were you?" he demanded.
"In my quarters, my lord. I apologize." She spoke in a manner as cultured as his own. The man glared at her for a moment.
"Fine. I want you to take these three away from here. Give them food and water. We can't have them dying. I'll come to deal with them later." He waved his hand dismissively and the girl looked up, noticing the captives for the first time. Getting a close look at her face, Estel realized she couldn't be much older than him. As she looked from him to Elladan and Elrohir, her eyes widened. She turned to the man in protest.
"But fa-" he silenced her with a look.
"Must I remind you of your place?"
"My lord, they are elves," she protested.
"I see that Serin, thank you. I'm not blind. The fact that they are elves is much better for me."
"But to lock them up like this... you-you can't!"
"I am quite capable of doing whatever I wish. Do as I say. Now!"
With a sigh, Serin turned to the little trio that had been assembled. Their feet had been untied, but their hands were still bound behind their backs. "Follow me," she ordered half-heartedly. Having no other alternative, they did, feeling the glares of the orcs on their backs. Serin held the door open for them, and they stepped into a gleaming marble hallway. Doors of all sorts lined this wall, each with a different label. The door they had just stepped through was labeled 'Middle Earth' in fancy lettering. The second the door had shut behind them, Serin slipped a knife out of her boots.
"What are you doing?" Estel exclaimed.
"Shut up," she hissed. "Do you want them to hear you? Now turn around. I'm going to cut you loose." True to her word. She unbound their arms.
"Thank you," Elladan said suspiciously as they tried to regain circulation in their hands.
"It's the least I can do. It's disgusting, what he's doing..." she trailed off and smiled sadly.
"If you do not wish to be here, why to you consent to his will?" Elrohir asked. Estel eyed her, wondering if he could jump her. Surely the three of them could take her, and once they had her knife... he was fairly certain she had no other arms.
"Not here. I'll explain later, after you have food and get cleaned up," Serin told them. "And don't even think about it, Estel. Too many people have tried to jump me. The guards will come and kill you without thinking. And even if you get away, you have no idea where you're going. Now come on." She started off down the hallway. Elladan and Elrohir followed and Estel trailed behind, gaping after her. After leading them past innumerable doors, she stopped before one at the very end of the hallway. It was plain and simple with a crystal doorknob. The label simply read 'home'. She led them through this door and into the strangest place Estel had ever seen. The floor was soft, and a light stony-brown colour. The walls matched. Couches were in the room, black and made of a shiny material. The walls were adorned with paintings in black frames. Examining it closer, Estel realized they were not paintings. They had no colour and held a realistic quality he had never seen before. The one he was looking at was of a mountain, thick with trees, far off in the distance. There was a beach in the foreground with a man riding on a horse to the mountain.
Serin locked the door with an old fashioned key around her neck and straightened. Seeing Estel looking at the picture, she walked over to him. "I took those myself," she explained. "That was my father." She looked at the picture for a moment, and then shook her head. "Come on. We'd better hurry." She led them across the room to a small door. Elrohir paused for a moment.
"I hear horses," he announced.
Elladan nodded his agreement. "They are restless. They wish to run."
Serin smiled vaguely. "Yeah, they probably do. C'mon." She opened the door and led them down a twisting iron staircase. Grabbing a key ring off a rack at the bottom of the staircase, she led them down one last hall, opening a door near the end of it. "It's not much, but it's the best I can do." She stopped a minute, as if hearing something. "I have to go now, but I'll be back soon." Shutting the door and locking them in, she left them alone in their room.
To my reviewers:
Kat (mak4): Ummm, right. See? I told you you were only typing random letters! HA! Happy Birthday!
Sticky Elf: I know what you mean about imaging Estel as a scared little teenager. It's fun though.
Evelyn-aka-Evie: Yes! I do miss the Jesus Christ Super Frog. *Sniff* Weren't we going to give him a funeral?
*
Light filled his mind, flitting away and drawing near again. Sounds become clearer. Voices. Thuds. Distant screams.
Estel opened his eyes and groaned as pain filled his head.
"Hush," Elladan said. He held Estel's head in his lap and was rubbing the boy's forehead to help relieve the pain. His eyes were focused elsewhere, watching some scene intently. Estel couldn't see, but he could tell it was not good. Elladan's teeth were gritted, as though fighting away pain, or holding himself back. Estel pushed himself up. They were in a cold dank room with a stone floor. Moldy hay was piled in a corner, filling the room with a sickeningly sweet smell. The one open wall of the miniscule room locked them in with thick iron bars. Through the bars, Estel could see the stone floor continued into a huge open hall. Orcs ran about, some making things, some slaving over hot fires, other just scurrying by. In the centre of the room, Elrohir stood, facing the man from before. His hands were still bound behind his back, and his feet were tied together.
"Now I ask you again, who are you?" the man demanded. He was holding a heavy-looking club.
"An elf," Elrohir answered simply. The man took the club and slammed it into Elrohir's stomach. He doubled over, gasping for breath, and was tripped to the floor by the rope binding his ankles.
"Get up!" the man screamed, hauling him to his feet. He slammed the club into Elrohir's stomach once more, and then hit him across the back.
"Why is he doing this?" Estel whispered, horrified. Elladan turned to him.
"He wishes to know who we are; our sire; where we dwell. This man grows infuriated easily, particularly when he does not receive what he wishes." Elladan winced. "I have already held my turn." Estel noticed a deep gash over his left eye, still bleeding lightly. They turned back to look at Elrohir. He was crumpled on the floor, and seemed to be having trouble breathing. Elladan whispered something Estel couldn't catch. Slowly Elrohir's breathing calmed and, although he did not get up, he raised his head to meet the man's eyes steadily.
"I am losing patience," the man said. "I will ask you one more time. Who are you? And don't tell me an elf. I can see that much. Where are you from? Who is your father?" Elrohir only looked at him. "Very well." The man ordered something they could not understand. Three orcs hauled Elrohir into place. Elladan grasped at the bars. Elrohir's breath hitched as he watched something move toward him. An orc came into view, holding a poker with a red-hot tip. Estel's eyes widened.
"No!" he yelled, as the poker tip rested against Elrohir's arm and Elrohir resisted the urge to cry out. The man shouted an order and the orc immediately pulled away.
"Estel," Elladan hissed, as the man walked toward them.
"Come here, boy," he ordered, opening the gate and pulling him out. He led Estel to the centre of the hall where he had stood with Elrohir. He motioned the orc into place, this time with the poker inches fro Elrohir's face. "Perhaps you can offer me what these two won't. Tell me, who are you? Who are they? Where do you come from?"
"I-" Estel began.
"No, Estel!" Elrohir yelled.
"Estel?" the man repeated. "Hope? How absolutely disgusting." He threw his club down with a large clatter. "I grow tired of theses games! Where is Serin? Have her take them all away." An orc walked over to him.
"My lord? She is no here. I no know where she is." Obviously irritated, the man walked over to a box on the wall.
"Serin!" he screamed. "Come here immediately." Within minutes, a girl raced into the hall through a set of heavy stone doors. She was wearing a straight black skirt and blood red shirt. Her blue eyes were surrounded with black eye make up.
"What do you wish of me, my lord?" she questioned, lowering her head subserviently despite being only a few inches shorter than him.
"Where were you?" he demanded.
"In my quarters, my lord. I apologize." She spoke in a manner as cultured as his own. The man glared at her for a moment.
"Fine. I want you to take these three away from here. Give them food and water. We can't have them dying. I'll come to deal with them later." He waved his hand dismissively and the girl looked up, noticing the captives for the first time. Getting a close look at her face, Estel realized she couldn't be much older than him. As she looked from him to Elladan and Elrohir, her eyes widened. She turned to the man in protest.
"But fa-" he silenced her with a look.
"Must I remind you of your place?"
"My lord, they are elves," she protested.
"I see that Serin, thank you. I'm not blind. The fact that they are elves is much better for me."
"But to lock them up like this... you-you can't!"
"I am quite capable of doing whatever I wish. Do as I say. Now!"
With a sigh, Serin turned to the little trio that had been assembled. Their feet had been untied, but their hands were still bound behind their backs. "Follow me," she ordered half-heartedly. Having no other alternative, they did, feeling the glares of the orcs on their backs. Serin held the door open for them, and they stepped into a gleaming marble hallway. Doors of all sorts lined this wall, each with a different label. The door they had just stepped through was labeled 'Middle Earth' in fancy lettering. The second the door had shut behind them, Serin slipped a knife out of her boots.
"What are you doing?" Estel exclaimed.
"Shut up," she hissed. "Do you want them to hear you? Now turn around. I'm going to cut you loose." True to her word. She unbound their arms.
"Thank you," Elladan said suspiciously as they tried to regain circulation in their hands.
"It's the least I can do. It's disgusting, what he's doing..." she trailed off and smiled sadly.
"If you do not wish to be here, why to you consent to his will?" Elrohir asked. Estel eyed her, wondering if he could jump her. Surely the three of them could take her, and once they had her knife... he was fairly certain she had no other arms.
"Not here. I'll explain later, after you have food and get cleaned up," Serin told them. "And don't even think about it, Estel. Too many people have tried to jump me. The guards will come and kill you without thinking. And even if you get away, you have no idea where you're going. Now come on." She started off down the hallway. Elladan and Elrohir followed and Estel trailed behind, gaping after her. After leading them past innumerable doors, she stopped before one at the very end of the hallway. It was plain and simple with a crystal doorknob. The label simply read 'home'. She led them through this door and into the strangest place Estel had ever seen. The floor was soft, and a light stony-brown colour. The walls matched. Couches were in the room, black and made of a shiny material. The walls were adorned with paintings in black frames. Examining it closer, Estel realized they were not paintings. They had no colour and held a realistic quality he had never seen before. The one he was looking at was of a mountain, thick with trees, far off in the distance. There was a beach in the foreground with a man riding on a horse to the mountain.
Serin locked the door with an old fashioned key around her neck and straightened. Seeing Estel looking at the picture, she walked over to him. "I took those myself," she explained. "That was my father." She looked at the picture for a moment, and then shook her head. "Come on. We'd better hurry." She led them across the room to a small door. Elrohir paused for a moment.
"I hear horses," he announced.
Elladan nodded his agreement. "They are restless. They wish to run."
Serin smiled vaguely. "Yeah, they probably do. C'mon." She opened the door and led them down a twisting iron staircase. Grabbing a key ring off a rack at the bottom of the staircase, she led them down one last hall, opening a door near the end of it. "It's not much, but it's the best I can do." She stopped a minute, as if hearing something. "I have to go now, but I'll be back soon." Shutting the door and locking them in, she left them alone in their room.