CHAPTER 13 - Hidden In The Dark
Although it felt like eternity, in reality it only took four days for the princes and Elladan to be forced to run with the cruel whips of the orcs snapping away at their heels, the loud and brash mocking of the creatures burning in their ears, eating away at their souls. At last, just as the sun began to rise on the fifth day, the orcs reached the destination point with their prisoners.
They had arrived at the foot of a tall, forest covered mountain, peaked with snow. Beside the mountain was another, and another, and another, stretched out across the landscape. The mountains of Mirkwood.
Urshak gave a whistle and three large orcs stepped forwards, pushing a large boulder, sweating and grunting. The boulder finally gave way and rolled a few feet. Behind where it had stood was a gloomy tunnel, carved out of the mountain. The floor of the tunnel was littered with jagged stones and pieces of bone. A sharp spear prodded Legolas in his back.
"In!" shouted Urshak
The heart of the elven prince quailed. Down the tunnel there would be only the red torchlight to see by. No stars, or sun or moon. No trees. No life, apart from themselves and their captors, aside from a few rats, perhaps, if the orcs had not killed them all.
"In!" cried Urshak again, becoming angry, "Do not dare to disobey me again, little songbird!"
Songbird. The nickname Urshak had given Legolas on the second day, after forcing him to sing. As he stepped, terrified, in to the tunnel, Legolas wondered again about the name. It was not even as if the orcs liked elvish singing. They hated it, did they not? So why make him sing? There were too many strange and unanswered questions.
Behind him, Legolas could feel the presence of his brothers. A light in the dark. They had not spoken to each other since they had been captured, for fear of having their throats ripped out, but they had not needed to. Seeing each other, knowing they were not alone, that had been enough. Now Legolas longed to hear the voice of his siblings, no matter what the words were. For all he cared it could have been Oroweth giving him a tongue lashing for putting nettles in his bed, as had happened not so long ago. It could be Astaler yelling heathen oaths down the corridor after him as he fled away with Thellind and Nilwethion as they laughed. It could be anything, so long as he could hear an elvish voice. Even his adar's angry yells would be welcomed.
Behind him, the prince heard a muffled moan. Elladan. The poor Imladris elf had suffered worse than any of the princes. There had been no need to keep him for anything other than fun and play, from the orcs point of view. Legolas winced with pity. He had watched, dumbstruck, as the orcs had made Elladan scream in agony in the forest, hating himself for not being able to help.
Suddenly Legolas tripped in the darkness and went flying down the tunnel to the howling laughter of the orcs. Sharp rocks and ancient bones tore at his skin, and the blonde prince put out a hand to stop himself. Roughly, he was dragged to his feet. Legolas looked up in to the small eyes of Urshak. He quivered, expecting a beating. Nothing came. Instead, the orc captain smiled wickedly at him.
"Behold yer new home, little songbird," he said, and stepped aside. Legolas gasped. Without realising it, he had fallen to the end of the tunnel and now he stood looking around at a huge cavern, filled with busy orcs. Above them, carved pillars stretched out keeping the ceiling up, and the walls were decorated with ornate pictures and scenes, much like the tapestries at home. Only these pictures had been made with blood and bone and rotting fish scales. Red torches hung, flickering on the walls and hung from the ceiling dripping hot wax. In an odd way, the cavern was sickly beautiful in a twisted sort of way. The prince wondered how many slaves and prisoners had lost their lives making it.
Without warning, Urshak hit Legolas around the back of his head. The power of the blow knocked him to his knees and the orc laughed loudly. Orcs looked up from their business and then began cheering as they realised their captain was back.
"Look at what Urshak brought home!" cried the orc captain loudly, making any orcs who had not noticed him look up. He grabbed Legolas by the hair and jerked his head back. The orcs closed in, their fangs grinning wildly in evil delight. The elven prince stepped back in fear. He had never seen so many orcs in his life, and now, when he needed one most, he had no weapon. Urshak sensed his fear, and threw the elf forward on his face. The orcs laughed.
"Take it to the cell prepared!" he ordered, "The rest are comin' with the others. Treat little songbird nice now,"
Rough hands grabbed Legolas, heaving him to his feet. Looking around for one last time, the prince saw his brothers entering the cavern looking pale. There was no sign of Elladan. What had they done with him?
As the orcs tugged at the rope around his neck, Legolas was forced down another tunnel with more of the sick decorations and lost sight of his brothers. The floor of the tunnel was laid like cobbles, but instead of cobbles there were bones, smoothed down by the amount of feet that had walked over it. This was not like the entrance, but the same feel of ancient terror and pain clung to it. Legolas let out a small whimper, to the delight of his captors.
The prince heard a door being unlocked, and then the press of orcs threw him, again, on his face. He scrambled up, just in time to see that he had been thrown in to a cold, plain cell. The door behind him swung shut and a key clicked in the lock. Overcome with weariness and terror, Legolas flopped back down again. In the cell, no candles were hung and there were no bars in the door to see the lights from the tunnel. There were no windows to allow light in from the sun or moon or stars. All there was blackness, total and complete. The prince allowed sleep to take him while he had the chance. He knew in his heart the peace would not last.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Elrohir awoke, screaming. Sweat poured down his face and drenched his bed and he sat bolt upright, terrified. A cool, comforting hand touched his shoulder and the elf remembered where he was. He looked around to see Elrond sitting in a chair next to him, his face a mask of sorrow. Elrohir looked away.
"Elladan is in pain," he whispered sadly. Elrond bowed his head.
"So you have said every day since your brother disappeared," he replied. The tone of his voice echoed the look on his face.
"Where is naneth?"
"She has gone to find rest. She was more weary than I have seen her in many years,"
The son almost fell in to Elronds arms, desperately trying to find a place of security where the monsters of his dreams, of his brothers' reality, could not reach him. A tear fell from his eye, unbidden, dropping on to the white sheets where it spread outwards. Another and another joined it as Elrohir began sobbing. At last, the final tear had fallen and he looked up at Elrond, despair in his eyes.
"Has Nilwethion awoken yet ada?"
Elrond shook his head, trying to hide his distaste. When Elladan had gone missing, Elrond had looked around for someone to blame, and his blame came to rest upon the royal family of Mirkwood. He pitied the king and queen, as they had lost just as much as he had, but if they had put up more guards and been more careful, this would never have happened. Elrohir noticed the face of his adar gain an expressionless mask, and knew what Elrond was thinking.
"You must not blame the princes adar. They are truly wonderful people. We are at fault as much as they are,"
"We?"
"Elladan and I," the elf choked out the name, and scrunched up in to a little ball of inner pain and suffering.
"Adar, I cannot stand it for any longer," he wailed, "I cannot stand it!"
"I know, my son, I know,"
Elrohir looked up, a sudden anger in his eyes. He clutched at the white bed sheets surrounding him and stared at his father.
"No you do not! You will never know! I can feel Elladans pain and anguish! Everything they do to him comes to me as I sleep! You sit there, upset at loosing him, but for me I may as well be there!" he hissed, making Elrond sit up in shock, "You have lost your son, but I? I have lost myself! I cannot live without Elladan, and cannot live with Elladan when he is in so much pain and I cannot help him! I hate you! I hate everyone! "
The lord of Imladris stood up and stared back at the red glint in his sons' eyes. He bowed, and then turned around and walked slowly out of the room feeling the angry glare of his son on his back, silver robes swishing methodically along the floor with each step.
As soon as he left, Elrohir threw himself back down on to his bed and began crying again. Not for himself, but for his brother.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The queen of Mirkwood sat in her chair by the bedside of Nilwethion. Around her, the white candle that had been burning so brightly during the night had burnt out and daylight flooded in through the large windows. She held her sons hand, squeezing it gently every so often hoping, desperately wishing for a response. Her cheeks were stained with tears after days and nights of weeping, but now she sat still and silent, like an old dead weeping willow tree.
Her sad eyes never once left her sons face, and her beaded black robes, for she had given up hope and begun morning his death, had not moved since she first sat in the chair the day Nilwethion had been brought back. A black veil rested over her long hair in preparation for Nilwethion to stop breathing and to lower over her face, something she was sure would happen, or the news that her other sons had been found dead. She expected nothing less. Not after Neldoreth.
For months after Neldoreth had disappeared she had kept up hope, but he had not come back. Her own, beloved son. Now her six other sons had been viciously ripped away from her, and she had no hope left.
Her thoughts strayed to her daughters, one born and one still in her womb, and she wondered what ill fortune they would come to. She looked around for Calensil and realised the small elfling was not there. The queen began to panic. Where was her baby? Her little girl?
"Calensil?" She cried, her voice cracking slightly from its lack of use since her sons had disappeared, "Calensil?"
She stood up, muscles complaining loudly at the sudden use after they had been still for so long. Queen Imlammthien hurried out of the room where her son lay; suddenly terrified she would loose Calensil. She ran through the palace, knocking in to servants and guards in her desperate rush to find the princess, and banged open the door to Calensil's room. The young princess was there, curled up on her bed. The queen breathed a sigh of relief and snatched the child up in to a motherly embrace.
The princess let out a small squeak, having not expected her naneth to appear so suddenly. As the queen set her daughter down, she did not let go of her hand, and pulled her gently out of the room as Imlammthien began to walk back to where her son lay in a come.
"Naneth?" gasped Calensil, "What is it? Naneth?"
"I will not loose you too," replied the queen, "You are not leaving my sight ever again,"
The princess had to run to keep up with the fast pace of her mother, and the way the queen was clutching at her hand began to become painful.
"Naneth," she moaned, "Naneth slow down, my hand hurts,"
Queen Imlammthien paid no attention. She could no longer hear Calensil, or anything else around her.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
As he lay in the dark, Legolas lost all sense of time or surroundings. He knew not how long he had been there. Was it seconds? Minutes? Hours? Days? The prince had no idea, but he began to feel sick with worry. His mind began to run over questions and questions. Questions that had no answers. What would happen to him? Where were the others? As the angst welled up inside him, Legolas felt the need to scream. His ears buzzed and thrummed in the silence, and he could not tell whether his eyes were open or closed. All he could feel was a smooth, cold stone with no end.
Reaching out in front of him, the prince groped along in the dark, his hands probing the floor, trying to find an end. At last he found it. A wall. He turned and lent his back against it, glad to have found some change in the unending nothingness.
Suddenly, the door was flung open and red light burst in to the room. Legolas winced, his eyes not used to the light. Before he had time to think, Urshak strode in to the cell, dragging one of the princes behind him by the hair. Thellind.
His tunic, boots and cape were gone, leaving the prince only in his leggings. His brown hair was stained and matted with blood, and his right eye was black and swollen. A long gash ran across his chest, and blood ran freely from his lip. Urshak threw the prince on the floor and nodded, smiling cruelly at Legolas. Legolas hunched up against the wall. The orc captain set his red, flickering torch in a socket in the wall and left, locking the door behind him.
Legolas scrambled to his shaking brother.
"Thellind? What have they done to you?" he whispered.
The older prince looked at Legolas, despair in his eyes, but gave no reply.
"Thellind? Thellind what is it?"
Without answering, Thellind pulled himself up and staggered over to the wall. He reached up and plucked the torch out of its bracket and threw it on the floor, staring at it. After a few moments, the flame flickered and went out, leaving the princes again in darkness.
"Thellind?" whispered Legolas, desperation in his voice, "Why did you do that?"
Again, Thellind said nothing, but a small voice in Legolas' head told him the answer.
You can hide in the darkness.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A/N: Aren't I nice? The torches by the way, in case any of you think I'm completely crazy, are the old fashioned type. Just a piece of burning wood that you put in a bracket on the wall to keep it in place. Yes, there are candles as well. These orcs are sophisticated. They have both. Things are starting to get interesting. Hehehe.
PERSONAL REVIEW THINGY
ALISON ~~ oh wow, 12 reviews! So . . .you don't like cliff-hangers then? **Evil smirk** you'll be glad to know that no, Nilwethion is not dead, and if you read Déjà Vu you'll find he's in that, therefore, as Déjà Vu is after this story, he can't die. As to where I get my ideas from, I have three wonderful muses. I don't seem to be able to write funny fics though. This one was supposed to be, but as you can see it didn't quite turn out like that. I also get inspiration from stuff in History, like the inquisition and the suffragettes (next chapter).
MAVERICK GIRL ~~ well most of them wind up alive, but I might have to kill someone. The two who were caught by spiders, well, you can see Elrohir is fine, but for Nilwethion you'll have to wait.
ELFAER GILLIEL ~~ hey, no sweat. Thanks for the review.
DAW THE MINSTREL ~~ Thranduil is out of his mind with worry. So is Imlammthien, as you can see. This should be interesting.
LOTRSEER3350 ~~ the princes won't die, but I can put them through a LOT more pain and torture than this. Believe me. To find out what happens to Calensil you're just going to have to wait a couple more chapters.
THRANDUILLION ~~ more chappies coming
IMBEFANIEL ~~ writers block? O_o, nasty! Hehe, I can get scarier than this.
FIREANGEL ~~ ARGH! HP! EVIL! Saying that, I have an HP fic myself but hey, never mind. DON'T MIX THE TWO!!! Actually, nothing much is happy in the rest of this fic. Hehe. As for the orc brother, yes I am Sirius.
GREENLEAFGRL ~~ ok, that WAS random. Clay Aiken? Never heard of . . .him? Her? It? Them? Sorry.
ETERNALLYMINE ~~ actually, I figured that it was the other way around somehow. Many apologies if anything is incorrect.
DOT ~~ oops, thanks for pointing the mistake out. Thranduil might loose another child, but he might not. **Annoying grin**
LEXIE ~~ thanks for the review. I'm honoured!
Although it felt like eternity, in reality it only took four days for the princes and Elladan to be forced to run with the cruel whips of the orcs snapping away at their heels, the loud and brash mocking of the creatures burning in their ears, eating away at their souls. At last, just as the sun began to rise on the fifth day, the orcs reached the destination point with their prisoners.
They had arrived at the foot of a tall, forest covered mountain, peaked with snow. Beside the mountain was another, and another, and another, stretched out across the landscape. The mountains of Mirkwood.
Urshak gave a whistle and three large orcs stepped forwards, pushing a large boulder, sweating and grunting. The boulder finally gave way and rolled a few feet. Behind where it had stood was a gloomy tunnel, carved out of the mountain. The floor of the tunnel was littered with jagged stones and pieces of bone. A sharp spear prodded Legolas in his back.
"In!" shouted Urshak
The heart of the elven prince quailed. Down the tunnel there would be only the red torchlight to see by. No stars, or sun or moon. No trees. No life, apart from themselves and their captors, aside from a few rats, perhaps, if the orcs had not killed them all.
"In!" cried Urshak again, becoming angry, "Do not dare to disobey me again, little songbird!"
Songbird. The nickname Urshak had given Legolas on the second day, after forcing him to sing. As he stepped, terrified, in to the tunnel, Legolas wondered again about the name. It was not even as if the orcs liked elvish singing. They hated it, did they not? So why make him sing? There were too many strange and unanswered questions.
Behind him, Legolas could feel the presence of his brothers. A light in the dark. They had not spoken to each other since they had been captured, for fear of having their throats ripped out, but they had not needed to. Seeing each other, knowing they were not alone, that had been enough. Now Legolas longed to hear the voice of his siblings, no matter what the words were. For all he cared it could have been Oroweth giving him a tongue lashing for putting nettles in his bed, as had happened not so long ago. It could be Astaler yelling heathen oaths down the corridor after him as he fled away with Thellind and Nilwethion as they laughed. It could be anything, so long as he could hear an elvish voice. Even his adar's angry yells would be welcomed.
Behind him, the prince heard a muffled moan. Elladan. The poor Imladris elf had suffered worse than any of the princes. There had been no need to keep him for anything other than fun and play, from the orcs point of view. Legolas winced with pity. He had watched, dumbstruck, as the orcs had made Elladan scream in agony in the forest, hating himself for not being able to help.
Suddenly Legolas tripped in the darkness and went flying down the tunnel to the howling laughter of the orcs. Sharp rocks and ancient bones tore at his skin, and the blonde prince put out a hand to stop himself. Roughly, he was dragged to his feet. Legolas looked up in to the small eyes of Urshak. He quivered, expecting a beating. Nothing came. Instead, the orc captain smiled wickedly at him.
"Behold yer new home, little songbird," he said, and stepped aside. Legolas gasped. Without realising it, he had fallen to the end of the tunnel and now he stood looking around at a huge cavern, filled with busy orcs. Above them, carved pillars stretched out keeping the ceiling up, and the walls were decorated with ornate pictures and scenes, much like the tapestries at home. Only these pictures had been made with blood and bone and rotting fish scales. Red torches hung, flickering on the walls and hung from the ceiling dripping hot wax. In an odd way, the cavern was sickly beautiful in a twisted sort of way. The prince wondered how many slaves and prisoners had lost their lives making it.
Without warning, Urshak hit Legolas around the back of his head. The power of the blow knocked him to his knees and the orc laughed loudly. Orcs looked up from their business and then began cheering as they realised their captain was back.
"Look at what Urshak brought home!" cried the orc captain loudly, making any orcs who had not noticed him look up. He grabbed Legolas by the hair and jerked his head back. The orcs closed in, their fangs grinning wildly in evil delight. The elven prince stepped back in fear. He had never seen so many orcs in his life, and now, when he needed one most, he had no weapon. Urshak sensed his fear, and threw the elf forward on his face. The orcs laughed.
"Take it to the cell prepared!" he ordered, "The rest are comin' with the others. Treat little songbird nice now,"
Rough hands grabbed Legolas, heaving him to his feet. Looking around for one last time, the prince saw his brothers entering the cavern looking pale. There was no sign of Elladan. What had they done with him?
As the orcs tugged at the rope around his neck, Legolas was forced down another tunnel with more of the sick decorations and lost sight of his brothers. The floor of the tunnel was laid like cobbles, but instead of cobbles there were bones, smoothed down by the amount of feet that had walked over it. This was not like the entrance, but the same feel of ancient terror and pain clung to it. Legolas let out a small whimper, to the delight of his captors.
The prince heard a door being unlocked, and then the press of orcs threw him, again, on his face. He scrambled up, just in time to see that he had been thrown in to a cold, plain cell. The door behind him swung shut and a key clicked in the lock. Overcome with weariness and terror, Legolas flopped back down again. In the cell, no candles were hung and there were no bars in the door to see the lights from the tunnel. There were no windows to allow light in from the sun or moon or stars. All there was blackness, total and complete. The prince allowed sleep to take him while he had the chance. He knew in his heart the peace would not last.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Elrohir awoke, screaming. Sweat poured down his face and drenched his bed and he sat bolt upright, terrified. A cool, comforting hand touched his shoulder and the elf remembered where he was. He looked around to see Elrond sitting in a chair next to him, his face a mask of sorrow. Elrohir looked away.
"Elladan is in pain," he whispered sadly. Elrond bowed his head.
"So you have said every day since your brother disappeared," he replied. The tone of his voice echoed the look on his face.
"Where is naneth?"
"She has gone to find rest. She was more weary than I have seen her in many years,"
The son almost fell in to Elronds arms, desperately trying to find a place of security where the monsters of his dreams, of his brothers' reality, could not reach him. A tear fell from his eye, unbidden, dropping on to the white sheets where it spread outwards. Another and another joined it as Elrohir began sobbing. At last, the final tear had fallen and he looked up at Elrond, despair in his eyes.
"Has Nilwethion awoken yet ada?"
Elrond shook his head, trying to hide his distaste. When Elladan had gone missing, Elrond had looked around for someone to blame, and his blame came to rest upon the royal family of Mirkwood. He pitied the king and queen, as they had lost just as much as he had, but if they had put up more guards and been more careful, this would never have happened. Elrohir noticed the face of his adar gain an expressionless mask, and knew what Elrond was thinking.
"You must not blame the princes adar. They are truly wonderful people. We are at fault as much as they are,"
"We?"
"Elladan and I," the elf choked out the name, and scrunched up in to a little ball of inner pain and suffering.
"Adar, I cannot stand it for any longer," he wailed, "I cannot stand it!"
"I know, my son, I know,"
Elrohir looked up, a sudden anger in his eyes. He clutched at the white bed sheets surrounding him and stared at his father.
"No you do not! You will never know! I can feel Elladans pain and anguish! Everything they do to him comes to me as I sleep! You sit there, upset at loosing him, but for me I may as well be there!" he hissed, making Elrond sit up in shock, "You have lost your son, but I? I have lost myself! I cannot live without Elladan, and cannot live with Elladan when he is in so much pain and I cannot help him! I hate you! I hate everyone! "
The lord of Imladris stood up and stared back at the red glint in his sons' eyes. He bowed, and then turned around and walked slowly out of the room feeling the angry glare of his son on his back, silver robes swishing methodically along the floor with each step.
As soon as he left, Elrohir threw himself back down on to his bed and began crying again. Not for himself, but for his brother.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The queen of Mirkwood sat in her chair by the bedside of Nilwethion. Around her, the white candle that had been burning so brightly during the night had burnt out and daylight flooded in through the large windows. She held her sons hand, squeezing it gently every so often hoping, desperately wishing for a response. Her cheeks were stained with tears after days and nights of weeping, but now she sat still and silent, like an old dead weeping willow tree.
Her sad eyes never once left her sons face, and her beaded black robes, for she had given up hope and begun morning his death, had not moved since she first sat in the chair the day Nilwethion had been brought back. A black veil rested over her long hair in preparation for Nilwethion to stop breathing and to lower over her face, something she was sure would happen, or the news that her other sons had been found dead. She expected nothing less. Not after Neldoreth.
For months after Neldoreth had disappeared she had kept up hope, but he had not come back. Her own, beloved son. Now her six other sons had been viciously ripped away from her, and she had no hope left.
Her thoughts strayed to her daughters, one born and one still in her womb, and she wondered what ill fortune they would come to. She looked around for Calensil and realised the small elfling was not there. The queen began to panic. Where was her baby? Her little girl?
"Calensil?" She cried, her voice cracking slightly from its lack of use since her sons had disappeared, "Calensil?"
She stood up, muscles complaining loudly at the sudden use after they had been still for so long. Queen Imlammthien hurried out of the room where her son lay; suddenly terrified she would loose Calensil. She ran through the palace, knocking in to servants and guards in her desperate rush to find the princess, and banged open the door to Calensil's room. The young princess was there, curled up on her bed. The queen breathed a sigh of relief and snatched the child up in to a motherly embrace.
The princess let out a small squeak, having not expected her naneth to appear so suddenly. As the queen set her daughter down, she did not let go of her hand, and pulled her gently out of the room as Imlammthien began to walk back to where her son lay in a come.
"Naneth?" gasped Calensil, "What is it? Naneth?"
"I will not loose you too," replied the queen, "You are not leaving my sight ever again,"
The princess had to run to keep up with the fast pace of her mother, and the way the queen was clutching at her hand began to become painful.
"Naneth," she moaned, "Naneth slow down, my hand hurts,"
Queen Imlammthien paid no attention. She could no longer hear Calensil, or anything else around her.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
As he lay in the dark, Legolas lost all sense of time or surroundings. He knew not how long he had been there. Was it seconds? Minutes? Hours? Days? The prince had no idea, but he began to feel sick with worry. His mind began to run over questions and questions. Questions that had no answers. What would happen to him? Where were the others? As the angst welled up inside him, Legolas felt the need to scream. His ears buzzed and thrummed in the silence, and he could not tell whether his eyes were open or closed. All he could feel was a smooth, cold stone with no end.
Reaching out in front of him, the prince groped along in the dark, his hands probing the floor, trying to find an end. At last he found it. A wall. He turned and lent his back against it, glad to have found some change in the unending nothingness.
Suddenly, the door was flung open and red light burst in to the room. Legolas winced, his eyes not used to the light. Before he had time to think, Urshak strode in to the cell, dragging one of the princes behind him by the hair. Thellind.
His tunic, boots and cape were gone, leaving the prince only in his leggings. His brown hair was stained and matted with blood, and his right eye was black and swollen. A long gash ran across his chest, and blood ran freely from his lip. Urshak threw the prince on the floor and nodded, smiling cruelly at Legolas. Legolas hunched up against the wall. The orc captain set his red, flickering torch in a socket in the wall and left, locking the door behind him.
Legolas scrambled to his shaking brother.
"Thellind? What have they done to you?" he whispered.
The older prince looked at Legolas, despair in his eyes, but gave no reply.
"Thellind? Thellind what is it?"
Without answering, Thellind pulled himself up and staggered over to the wall. He reached up and plucked the torch out of its bracket and threw it on the floor, staring at it. After a few moments, the flame flickered and went out, leaving the princes again in darkness.
"Thellind?" whispered Legolas, desperation in his voice, "Why did you do that?"
Again, Thellind said nothing, but a small voice in Legolas' head told him the answer.
You can hide in the darkness.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A/N: Aren't I nice? The torches by the way, in case any of you think I'm completely crazy, are the old fashioned type. Just a piece of burning wood that you put in a bracket on the wall to keep it in place. Yes, there are candles as well. These orcs are sophisticated. They have both. Things are starting to get interesting. Hehehe.
PERSONAL REVIEW THINGY
ALISON ~~ oh wow, 12 reviews! So . . .you don't like cliff-hangers then? **Evil smirk** you'll be glad to know that no, Nilwethion is not dead, and if you read Déjà Vu you'll find he's in that, therefore, as Déjà Vu is after this story, he can't die. As to where I get my ideas from, I have three wonderful muses. I don't seem to be able to write funny fics though. This one was supposed to be, but as you can see it didn't quite turn out like that. I also get inspiration from stuff in History, like the inquisition and the suffragettes (next chapter).
MAVERICK GIRL ~~ well most of them wind up alive, but I might have to kill someone. The two who were caught by spiders, well, you can see Elrohir is fine, but for Nilwethion you'll have to wait.
ELFAER GILLIEL ~~ hey, no sweat. Thanks for the review.
DAW THE MINSTREL ~~ Thranduil is out of his mind with worry. So is Imlammthien, as you can see. This should be interesting.
LOTRSEER3350 ~~ the princes won't die, but I can put them through a LOT more pain and torture than this. Believe me. To find out what happens to Calensil you're just going to have to wait a couple more chapters.
THRANDUILLION ~~ more chappies coming
IMBEFANIEL ~~ writers block? O_o, nasty! Hehe, I can get scarier than this.
FIREANGEL ~~ ARGH! HP! EVIL! Saying that, I have an HP fic myself but hey, never mind. DON'T MIX THE TWO!!! Actually, nothing much is happy in the rest of this fic. Hehe. As for the orc brother, yes I am Sirius.
GREENLEAFGRL ~~ ok, that WAS random. Clay Aiken? Never heard of . . .him? Her? It? Them? Sorry.
ETERNALLYMINE ~~ actually, I figured that it was the other way around somehow. Many apologies if anything is incorrect.
DOT ~~ oops, thanks for pointing the mistake out. Thranduil might loose another child, but he might not. **Annoying grin**
LEXIE ~~ thanks for the review. I'm honoured!