CHAPTER 14 - Madness
Somehow, having Thellind in the cell made things no better for Legolas than being alone. They could not see each other, since Thellind had thrown the torch on the floor plunging them in to darkness again, but Thellind had not spoken a word, or made a sound, though Legolas had begged him to say something. Anything.
Legolas squirmed, the silence drawing out and ringing louder in his ears louder than any bells he had ever heard. Again, he had lost track of time or surroundings that he had gained when Thellind had been dragged in with the red light from the torch and the corridor. The young prince drew up his knees and rested his chin on them, quivering slightly.
Beside him, Legolas felt something move and he jumped. A hand crept around his own, and the blonde relaxed as he realised it was only Thellind. What had he been expecting? The prince did not know. The warmth of his sibling was comforting, like a light in the dark. A small smile found its way to the princes' lips as he found himself thinking of happier times they had shared.
The moment did not last, as the door slammed open, the red, flickering light again filling the room. The two princes winced, and pulled away from each other, their backs to the walls, as if it would make a difference.
Urshak walked over to the two princes and looked down on them, smirking, as he ran a leather strap through his fingers. Legolas looked up defiantly, but Thellind began shaking and looked away at the opposite wall.
The orc captain suddenly brought the leather strap down between the two princes, catching Legolas' hand. The elf drew his hand in quickly, but did not make any attempt to sooth the sharply stinging skin for fear of seeming weak. He glared at Urshak, who laughed. He turned away and nodded to two guards, standing to attention behind him. Two two orcs, dressed in well- made chain mail, dragged Legolas up to his feet roughly and pulled him out of the small cell.
Twisting his head around, Legolas saw Thellind try to get up, only to be kicked in chest by Urshak. The blonde prince looked helplessly at his older brother, but quickly lost sight of him as he was dragged out of the cell in to the corridor. Urshak followed and slammed the door shut behind him, locking it with an ornate key. He slipped the key back on to the key ring around his waist, gave a nod, and the elf found himself being dragged off again.
Instead of going back up to the main chamber, Legolas found himself being dragged down another wide corridor, much like the last. Orc who were going about their business stood aside quickly when they saw their captain coming and bowed to him, but leered at the prince as if they knew something he did not.
At last Urshak unlocked another door, grabbed Legolas by the hair and threw him inside. The prince hit the floor without a sound, and scrambled up again quickly. His eyes flicked around the room and he gasped as he saw Oroweth staring at him, his hair hanging limply over his bloody face, his hands and ankles fastened to the wall with iron cuffs. Legolas opened his mouth to call to Oroweth, but the prince shook his head. Legolas quickly closed his mouth and looked back at the orcs, now standing around him in a small triangle.
Looking the prince up and down, Urshak raised the leather strap and struck Legolas across the face with it. The prince did not blink, but stared back at Urshak as if nothing had happened. Again Urshak struck his across the face with the strap, and again Legolas did not react. The orc captain smiled.
"Good," he whispered, "Very good. Impressive, little songbird,"
A cold shiver ran down Legolas' spine, expecting Urshak to become angry. He did not. Instead, the orc began walking around Legolas as though inspecting him. The prince flicked a look at Oroweth, but Oroweth was watching Urshak with a look of defiance similar to his own.
"Just as I used to be," crowed Urshak suddenly, stopping in front of Legolas.
"You have said that before," Legolas replied. Urshak laughed loudly and clapped his crooked hands together.
"Ah yes, an' yew'll be as I am now, soon enough," crowed the orc, "Unless . . . unless you choose the other way,"
His yellow eyes narrowed as he looked at Legolas.
"Ye see, little songbird, I've taken a liking to yew. Might make things a bit . . . nicer. Yew gets the choice,"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Queen Imlammthien of Mirkwood sobbed in to a white cotton handkerchief. She had drawn the lacy black veil over her face and had a crying Calensil clutched closely to her.
"My son is dead," she moaned, "My Nilwethion! The Valar have taken him! He is dead!"
In her arms, Calensil was wriggling and writhing, desperately trying to escape her mothers' arms. For the past day, she had been held firmly in place on her mothers lap, sitting by the bed of Nilwethion, and now she wanted nothing more than to get away. It seemed, however, that her mother did not even acknowledge her.
"My queen, he is not dead," she heard one of the healers saying. The queen, however, seemed not to hear the healer either.
"My queen?"
The queen continued to sob piteously. The door banged open and Thranduil came running in, slightly out of breath.
"What is it?" he demanded. The healer scurried over to him.
"King Thranduil, your son still lives, though queen Imlammthien seems sure that he is dead. We cannot persuade her otherwise!"
The king swept over to the chair where his wife was moaning and weeping and put his hand on her shoulder.
"Imlammthien?" he whispered, "Immy?"
The queen looked up, red eyed.
"My babies have all gone," she choked, "First Neldoreth, and then Oroweth and Astaler and Nuryávië and . . ." she drew a breath, " . . . and Legolas, and now Nilwethion is gone as well! The Valar have taken them all. Why are they so cruel? Oh my babies! They will not have Calensil or Hollinethir!" the queen turned back to her sodden handkerchief, tears spilling over the edge and soaking her sleeves. The king looked up at the healer, startled.
"Have any of the search parties looking for my sons come back yet?" he asked, confused. The healer shrugged.
"I have heard no news, my king. They would go to you first, good news or ill,"
The king looked back to his mourning wife, and then something clicked.
"Who is . . . Hollinethir?"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Legolas stared wide-eyed at Urshak, unable to speak.
"So, little songbird, what'll it be? Choose the hard path with yer brothers, or choose the easy path and embrace the shadows whilst staying elvish?"
The prince said nothing, aware of all the eyes watching him carefully. He opened his dry mouth, and then shut it again.
"Little songbird can't make his decision? Shall we help 'im?" asked Urshak, a wicked glint in his foul yellow eye. In a swift movement, Urshak grabbed the back Legolas' hair and twisted the prince around, tripping him up so he fell to the floor on his back. The two orc guards pinned the prince down so he was unable to move, and then Urshak knelt down on the princes' stomach and prized open he elf's mouth with a little difficulty. He unhooked a small, green glass bottle from his waist and unscrewed the bronze lid. Ramming the bottle in to Legolas' mouth, he only removed it once the last drop of oozy black liquid had trickled out. Then, he held Legolas' mouth firmly shut, making sure that the prince could not cough any of the liquid, whatever it was, back up.
When Legolas felt the slimy liquid oozing down his throat, he knew instantly it was evil. His muscles were screaming at him to move, and his throat tried to close and repulse the liquid, but as Urshak was holding his mouth shut, there was nothing the prince could do but swallow it.
The prince remembered once plucking a small purple berry from a plant when he was smaller. The berry had looked so tantalizing and delicious, yet as soon as he had tasted it, he could remember Oroweth, who had been watching over him, or at least, who had been supposed to be watching over him, and hitting him on the back, terrified, and then hanging him upside down to make him cough up the berry. He had only been five years old at the time, but he could still remember the disgusting, poisonous taste of the berry and the terror radiating from Oroweth. In the moment the liquid touched his throat, the prince was sure he could taste the berry again, and he could, again, sense the terror coming from Oroweth.
He choked and gasped for breath as the stink from Urshak's unclean hand began to suffocate him, and the prince swallowed the last of the liquid. At last Urshak took his hand away and the three orcs stood up, leaving Legolas to curl up in pain on the floor.
Suddenly, Legolas shuddered and wretched. The orcs flung themselves don upon him again and forced his mouth shut with their vile claws, until the body of the prince accepted that it would not be able to get rid of whatever the liquid was.
Urshak smiled as the two orc guards pulled the prince to his feet. When they let go of his arms, Legolas fell down again at the captains feet almost instantly, his legs suddenly too weak to hold him up. His three captors laughed.
"I see you ain't of no use yet, little songbird. We'll be back soon," said Urshak, and he swept out of the room, followed by his henchmen. On the floor, Legolas curled up in to a little ball and whimpered.
"Legolas," cried Oroweth, as soon as the door shut, "Little brother, do not curl up. It will make the pain worse,"
Legolas heard the words and tried to pull himself away from the small scrunched up ball of agony he had become, but the pain was too great. He could hardly move.
"Legolas, listen to me! Do not curl up!" cried Oroweth again, "You will only have more pain!"
Legolas looked up at his brother, clamped to the wall and unable to move with sorrowful eyes.
"Help me Oroweth," he whispered, "Please, I cannot bear it,"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
In the centre of the main hall of the orc kingdom under the mountains of Mirkwood stood a large, flat stone. On top of the stone was a small cage with thick, metal bars, and inside the cage lay a miserable, raven-haired elf. Elladan.
The elf, however he may have appeared, was not in as much pain as any of the orcs thought he was. Somehow, inside, he was better off than any of the princes, all of whom by now had suffered some sort of agony.
"Elrohir," he whispered, "Elrohir I miss you,"
The words, of course, had no effect. Elrohir could not hear the words. The elven twin did, however, take Elladans pain and suffering upon himself. That was how Elladan, even though the orcs treated him like a play thing, beating him constantly and punishing him for nothing, had so little effect on him. He screamed, of course, but that was more from terror at what could happen what was happening. Elladan took comfort as he felt his twins' presence around him like a shield.
"May the Valar bless you Elrohir," he whispered again. The moments of rest could not last. A disturbing sound came of the lock to his cage being twisted open and the forlorn elf looked up.
He moaned slightly, and pressed his shoulder blades in to the bars of the cage. It was no use. A large, clawed, knobbly hand grabbed the elf by the neck and dragged him out on to the large flat marble slab that the cage was on. The elf found himself being held down, but there was nothing new there. He braced himself for a beating, but it did not come. Instead, the young elf found himself being handed a bottle full of black liquid. The same liquid Legolas had been forced in to drinking only a little while ago.
"Drink it, elf scum," snarled one of the orcs. Elladan knew better than to resist them by now. The bottle was thrust in to his hands and Elladan tipped the contents down his throat, screwing his eyes tightly against the taste of it. Finishing the liquid, he felt himself grow suddenly weak and the elf collapsed.
As soon as the bottle fell from his hands, rolling off the marble stone and smashing in to little pieces, Elladan felt a whip across his shoulders and he cried out at the sudden, unexpected pain. Again and again the lash came down relentlessly. Unlike Legolas, the orcs gave Elladan no respite. This elf was nothing special. This elf was a toy, nothing more, nothing less.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
In the halls of Mirkwood, Elrohir was sitting on a table, swinging his legs gently, his eyes not focused as he concentrated on his twin, so far away. He looked up as he heard his mother approaching. The pretty elven woman smiled gently at him.
"You never did like chairs did you?" she said. Her voice was like a calming music, soothing Elrohir. The elf looked down to at his dangling feet and he slid off the table on to a chair. Lady Celebrian walked over to him and put her arms around him, holding her son in a warm embrace.
"I hear you have upset your adar," she whispered. Elrohir pulled away from her and looked at the window.
"I am sorry naneth," he muttered, "I needed to blame somebody. Elladan hurt so much. I could not stand it, and . . ."
" . . . And so you took it out on Elrond?"
The elf nodded miserably.
"He understands," crooned Celebrian. She wrapped her son up in an embrace again, and this time he welcomed it, snuggling in to the soft pink robes of silk.
"Oh Elrohir," she whispered, "What are we to do with you?"
For a while, neither of them spoke, but then at last Celebrian stood up from the arm of the chair where she had sat down next to her son.
"Mithrandir has just arrived, you know," she murmured, running her fingers through Elrohir's hair. The young son looked up.
"Mithrandir?" he gasped, "Here? Where?"
"He is with Elrond, eating. He has just ridden from the place they call the Shire. Apparently it was not the smoothest journey. He will be going to see Nilwethion and the queen as soon as he has rested. They say she is going mad, the poor dear,"
Elrohir leapt up from the chair and charged off through the door, leaving his mother standing alone in her pink robes, to walk sedately after him. The elf charged through corridors, avoiding servants and guards as he went, nearly knocking over a valuable vase at one point. He burst in to the dinning room and saw, as his naneth had told him, Mithrandir and his father finishing a meal. Mithrandir looked up, his face grim, and then stood up and bowed to Elrohir.
"Greetings, Elrohir," he said. The old wizard had not changed at all since Elrohir had last heard from him three years ago, and the young elf smiled.
"Mithrandir! Naneth said you had come!"
Mithrandir smiled in return and sat back down again.
"Would you care to sit down, Elrohir? Your father has been telling me the terrible news,"
Elrohir took a seat next to Mithrandir and opened his mouth to began talking to his old friend, but the ancient wizard got there first.
"I seem to remember that you always used to sit on the table. Have you grown out of that?"
Elrohir looked down at the chair he was sitting on, and then pulled himself up on to the table.
"Mithrandir, I . . ."
What Elrohir was going to say, however, was never said. Instead, the raven- haired elf's face twisted in agony and he keeled off the table landing with a dull thud on the floor. His face became distorted and he began to writhe, black dots flashing before his eyes, disturbing his vision. The Imladris elf let out an unearthly scream of pure agony, and then screamed again and again and again, his face turning red as he tried to gasp for breath and scream at the same time.
Mithrandir and Elrond stood up in shock, not knowing what to do, or what the cause of the pain was. A couple of guards ran in, confused.
On the floor, Elrohir continued screaming. At last, Mithrandir heard something recognisable through the screams, and, he judged by the way Elrond suddenly turned white, so could Elrond. Elrohir was calling for his twin.
As suddenly as he had begun, Elrohir stopped screaming and lay on the floor, shaking. Elrond and Mithrandir knelt down next to him.
"Elrohir?" whispered the later, "Elrohir, what is it?"
"Elladan is gone," whispered Elrohir, "I cannot feel him. There is nothing. Elladan is . . . Elladan is . . . dead,"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
PERSONAL REVIEW THINGY
ALLISON ~~ sorry if you don't like how long I take writing, but I only update every Sunday. If I write chapters every day, they get kinda flat.
MAVERIK GIRL ~~ I can't promise you anything, but you'll just have to wait. I suppose I feel sorry for the parents too, but Thranduil really should have got to know his children better, as he said.
JUKIA ~~ yay! Individuality rocks! There are so many stories here that are all the same.
IMBEFANIEL ~~ well I did try to be nice. I did originally try to make this fic funny, but as you see, it didn't quite turn out like that, lol. Unless, that is, you're really sick and twisted. Do I take that as a complement?
DOT ~~ why thank you! The queen IS mad. Well, she is now, at least. I think Elrond understood Elrohir, because he used to have a twin himself, but he lost him because his twin chose a mortal life so yeah, he must understand.
LEXIE ~~ they'll all get out somehow, but whether they'll be okay, well, I'm not promising anything **evil sadistic smirk**
ELFAER GILIELL ~~ thanks!
ORODRUIN ~~ that's the feeling I was trying to get across! Creepy isn't it? Cliffies rule!
Somehow, having Thellind in the cell made things no better for Legolas than being alone. They could not see each other, since Thellind had thrown the torch on the floor plunging them in to darkness again, but Thellind had not spoken a word, or made a sound, though Legolas had begged him to say something. Anything.
Legolas squirmed, the silence drawing out and ringing louder in his ears louder than any bells he had ever heard. Again, he had lost track of time or surroundings that he had gained when Thellind had been dragged in with the red light from the torch and the corridor. The young prince drew up his knees and rested his chin on them, quivering slightly.
Beside him, Legolas felt something move and he jumped. A hand crept around his own, and the blonde relaxed as he realised it was only Thellind. What had he been expecting? The prince did not know. The warmth of his sibling was comforting, like a light in the dark. A small smile found its way to the princes' lips as he found himself thinking of happier times they had shared.
The moment did not last, as the door slammed open, the red, flickering light again filling the room. The two princes winced, and pulled away from each other, their backs to the walls, as if it would make a difference.
Urshak walked over to the two princes and looked down on them, smirking, as he ran a leather strap through his fingers. Legolas looked up defiantly, but Thellind began shaking and looked away at the opposite wall.
The orc captain suddenly brought the leather strap down between the two princes, catching Legolas' hand. The elf drew his hand in quickly, but did not make any attempt to sooth the sharply stinging skin for fear of seeming weak. He glared at Urshak, who laughed. He turned away and nodded to two guards, standing to attention behind him. Two two orcs, dressed in well- made chain mail, dragged Legolas up to his feet roughly and pulled him out of the small cell.
Twisting his head around, Legolas saw Thellind try to get up, only to be kicked in chest by Urshak. The blonde prince looked helplessly at his older brother, but quickly lost sight of him as he was dragged out of the cell in to the corridor. Urshak followed and slammed the door shut behind him, locking it with an ornate key. He slipped the key back on to the key ring around his waist, gave a nod, and the elf found himself being dragged off again.
Instead of going back up to the main chamber, Legolas found himself being dragged down another wide corridor, much like the last. Orc who were going about their business stood aside quickly when they saw their captain coming and bowed to him, but leered at the prince as if they knew something he did not.
At last Urshak unlocked another door, grabbed Legolas by the hair and threw him inside. The prince hit the floor without a sound, and scrambled up again quickly. His eyes flicked around the room and he gasped as he saw Oroweth staring at him, his hair hanging limply over his bloody face, his hands and ankles fastened to the wall with iron cuffs. Legolas opened his mouth to call to Oroweth, but the prince shook his head. Legolas quickly closed his mouth and looked back at the orcs, now standing around him in a small triangle.
Looking the prince up and down, Urshak raised the leather strap and struck Legolas across the face with it. The prince did not blink, but stared back at Urshak as if nothing had happened. Again Urshak struck his across the face with the strap, and again Legolas did not react. The orc captain smiled.
"Good," he whispered, "Very good. Impressive, little songbird,"
A cold shiver ran down Legolas' spine, expecting Urshak to become angry. He did not. Instead, the orc began walking around Legolas as though inspecting him. The prince flicked a look at Oroweth, but Oroweth was watching Urshak with a look of defiance similar to his own.
"Just as I used to be," crowed Urshak suddenly, stopping in front of Legolas.
"You have said that before," Legolas replied. Urshak laughed loudly and clapped his crooked hands together.
"Ah yes, an' yew'll be as I am now, soon enough," crowed the orc, "Unless . . . unless you choose the other way,"
His yellow eyes narrowed as he looked at Legolas.
"Ye see, little songbird, I've taken a liking to yew. Might make things a bit . . . nicer. Yew gets the choice,"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Queen Imlammthien of Mirkwood sobbed in to a white cotton handkerchief. She had drawn the lacy black veil over her face and had a crying Calensil clutched closely to her.
"My son is dead," she moaned, "My Nilwethion! The Valar have taken him! He is dead!"
In her arms, Calensil was wriggling and writhing, desperately trying to escape her mothers' arms. For the past day, she had been held firmly in place on her mothers lap, sitting by the bed of Nilwethion, and now she wanted nothing more than to get away. It seemed, however, that her mother did not even acknowledge her.
"My queen, he is not dead," she heard one of the healers saying. The queen, however, seemed not to hear the healer either.
"My queen?"
The queen continued to sob piteously. The door banged open and Thranduil came running in, slightly out of breath.
"What is it?" he demanded. The healer scurried over to him.
"King Thranduil, your son still lives, though queen Imlammthien seems sure that he is dead. We cannot persuade her otherwise!"
The king swept over to the chair where his wife was moaning and weeping and put his hand on her shoulder.
"Imlammthien?" he whispered, "Immy?"
The queen looked up, red eyed.
"My babies have all gone," she choked, "First Neldoreth, and then Oroweth and Astaler and Nuryávië and . . ." she drew a breath, " . . . and Legolas, and now Nilwethion is gone as well! The Valar have taken them all. Why are they so cruel? Oh my babies! They will not have Calensil or Hollinethir!" the queen turned back to her sodden handkerchief, tears spilling over the edge and soaking her sleeves. The king looked up at the healer, startled.
"Have any of the search parties looking for my sons come back yet?" he asked, confused. The healer shrugged.
"I have heard no news, my king. They would go to you first, good news or ill,"
The king looked back to his mourning wife, and then something clicked.
"Who is . . . Hollinethir?"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Legolas stared wide-eyed at Urshak, unable to speak.
"So, little songbird, what'll it be? Choose the hard path with yer brothers, or choose the easy path and embrace the shadows whilst staying elvish?"
The prince said nothing, aware of all the eyes watching him carefully. He opened his dry mouth, and then shut it again.
"Little songbird can't make his decision? Shall we help 'im?" asked Urshak, a wicked glint in his foul yellow eye. In a swift movement, Urshak grabbed the back Legolas' hair and twisted the prince around, tripping him up so he fell to the floor on his back. The two orc guards pinned the prince down so he was unable to move, and then Urshak knelt down on the princes' stomach and prized open he elf's mouth with a little difficulty. He unhooked a small, green glass bottle from his waist and unscrewed the bronze lid. Ramming the bottle in to Legolas' mouth, he only removed it once the last drop of oozy black liquid had trickled out. Then, he held Legolas' mouth firmly shut, making sure that the prince could not cough any of the liquid, whatever it was, back up.
When Legolas felt the slimy liquid oozing down his throat, he knew instantly it was evil. His muscles were screaming at him to move, and his throat tried to close and repulse the liquid, but as Urshak was holding his mouth shut, there was nothing the prince could do but swallow it.
The prince remembered once plucking a small purple berry from a plant when he was smaller. The berry had looked so tantalizing and delicious, yet as soon as he had tasted it, he could remember Oroweth, who had been watching over him, or at least, who had been supposed to be watching over him, and hitting him on the back, terrified, and then hanging him upside down to make him cough up the berry. He had only been five years old at the time, but he could still remember the disgusting, poisonous taste of the berry and the terror radiating from Oroweth. In the moment the liquid touched his throat, the prince was sure he could taste the berry again, and he could, again, sense the terror coming from Oroweth.
He choked and gasped for breath as the stink from Urshak's unclean hand began to suffocate him, and the prince swallowed the last of the liquid. At last Urshak took his hand away and the three orcs stood up, leaving Legolas to curl up in pain on the floor.
Suddenly, Legolas shuddered and wretched. The orcs flung themselves don upon him again and forced his mouth shut with their vile claws, until the body of the prince accepted that it would not be able to get rid of whatever the liquid was.
Urshak smiled as the two orc guards pulled the prince to his feet. When they let go of his arms, Legolas fell down again at the captains feet almost instantly, his legs suddenly too weak to hold him up. His three captors laughed.
"I see you ain't of no use yet, little songbird. We'll be back soon," said Urshak, and he swept out of the room, followed by his henchmen. On the floor, Legolas curled up in to a little ball and whimpered.
"Legolas," cried Oroweth, as soon as the door shut, "Little brother, do not curl up. It will make the pain worse,"
Legolas heard the words and tried to pull himself away from the small scrunched up ball of agony he had become, but the pain was too great. He could hardly move.
"Legolas, listen to me! Do not curl up!" cried Oroweth again, "You will only have more pain!"
Legolas looked up at his brother, clamped to the wall and unable to move with sorrowful eyes.
"Help me Oroweth," he whispered, "Please, I cannot bear it,"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
In the centre of the main hall of the orc kingdom under the mountains of Mirkwood stood a large, flat stone. On top of the stone was a small cage with thick, metal bars, and inside the cage lay a miserable, raven-haired elf. Elladan.
The elf, however he may have appeared, was not in as much pain as any of the orcs thought he was. Somehow, inside, he was better off than any of the princes, all of whom by now had suffered some sort of agony.
"Elrohir," he whispered, "Elrohir I miss you,"
The words, of course, had no effect. Elrohir could not hear the words. The elven twin did, however, take Elladans pain and suffering upon himself. That was how Elladan, even though the orcs treated him like a play thing, beating him constantly and punishing him for nothing, had so little effect on him. He screamed, of course, but that was more from terror at what could happen what was happening. Elladan took comfort as he felt his twins' presence around him like a shield.
"May the Valar bless you Elrohir," he whispered again. The moments of rest could not last. A disturbing sound came of the lock to his cage being twisted open and the forlorn elf looked up.
He moaned slightly, and pressed his shoulder blades in to the bars of the cage. It was no use. A large, clawed, knobbly hand grabbed the elf by the neck and dragged him out on to the large flat marble slab that the cage was on. The elf found himself being held down, but there was nothing new there. He braced himself for a beating, but it did not come. Instead, the young elf found himself being handed a bottle full of black liquid. The same liquid Legolas had been forced in to drinking only a little while ago.
"Drink it, elf scum," snarled one of the orcs. Elladan knew better than to resist them by now. The bottle was thrust in to his hands and Elladan tipped the contents down his throat, screwing his eyes tightly against the taste of it. Finishing the liquid, he felt himself grow suddenly weak and the elf collapsed.
As soon as the bottle fell from his hands, rolling off the marble stone and smashing in to little pieces, Elladan felt a whip across his shoulders and he cried out at the sudden, unexpected pain. Again and again the lash came down relentlessly. Unlike Legolas, the orcs gave Elladan no respite. This elf was nothing special. This elf was a toy, nothing more, nothing less.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
In the halls of Mirkwood, Elrohir was sitting on a table, swinging his legs gently, his eyes not focused as he concentrated on his twin, so far away. He looked up as he heard his mother approaching. The pretty elven woman smiled gently at him.
"You never did like chairs did you?" she said. Her voice was like a calming music, soothing Elrohir. The elf looked down to at his dangling feet and he slid off the table on to a chair. Lady Celebrian walked over to him and put her arms around him, holding her son in a warm embrace.
"I hear you have upset your adar," she whispered. Elrohir pulled away from her and looked at the window.
"I am sorry naneth," he muttered, "I needed to blame somebody. Elladan hurt so much. I could not stand it, and . . ."
" . . . And so you took it out on Elrond?"
The elf nodded miserably.
"He understands," crooned Celebrian. She wrapped her son up in an embrace again, and this time he welcomed it, snuggling in to the soft pink robes of silk.
"Oh Elrohir," she whispered, "What are we to do with you?"
For a while, neither of them spoke, but then at last Celebrian stood up from the arm of the chair where she had sat down next to her son.
"Mithrandir has just arrived, you know," she murmured, running her fingers through Elrohir's hair. The young son looked up.
"Mithrandir?" he gasped, "Here? Where?"
"He is with Elrond, eating. He has just ridden from the place they call the Shire. Apparently it was not the smoothest journey. He will be going to see Nilwethion and the queen as soon as he has rested. They say she is going mad, the poor dear,"
Elrohir leapt up from the chair and charged off through the door, leaving his mother standing alone in her pink robes, to walk sedately after him. The elf charged through corridors, avoiding servants and guards as he went, nearly knocking over a valuable vase at one point. He burst in to the dinning room and saw, as his naneth had told him, Mithrandir and his father finishing a meal. Mithrandir looked up, his face grim, and then stood up and bowed to Elrohir.
"Greetings, Elrohir," he said. The old wizard had not changed at all since Elrohir had last heard from him three years ago, and the young elf smiled.
"Mithrandir! Naneth said you had come!"
Mithrandir smiled in return and sat back down again.
"Would you care to sit down, Elrohir? Your father has been telling me the terrible news,"
Elrohir took a seat next to Mithrandir and opened his mouth to began talking to his old friend, but the ancient wizard got there first.
"I seem to remember that you always used to sit on the table. Have you grown out of that?"
Elrohir looked down at the chair he was sitting on, and then pulled himself up on to the table.
"Mithrandir, I . . ."
What Elrohir was going to say, however, was never said. Instead, the raven- haired elf's face twisted in agony and he keeled off the table landing with a dull thud on the floor. His face became distorted and he began to writhe, black dots flashing before his eyes, disturbing his vision. The Imladris elf let out an unearthly scream of pure agony, and then screamed again and again and again, his face turning red as he tried to gasp for breath and scream at the same time.
Mithrandir and Elrond stood up in shock, not knowing what to do, or what the cause of the pain was. A couple of guards ran in, confused.
On the floor, Elrohir continued screaming. At last, Mithrandir heard something recognisable through the screams, and, he judged by the way Elrond suddenly turned white, so could Elrond. Elrohir was calling for his twin.
As suddenly as he had begun, Elrohir stopped screaming and lay on the floor, shaking. Elrond and Mithrandir knelt down next to him.
"Elrohir?" whispered the later, "Elrohir, what is it?"
"Elladan is gone," whispered Elrohir, "I cannot feel him. There is nothing. Elladan is . . . Elladan is . . . dead,"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
PERSONAL REVIEW THINGY
ALLISON ~~ sorry if you don't like how long I take writing, but I only update every Sunday. If I write chapters every day, they get kinda flat.
MAVERIK GIRL ~~ I can't promise you anything, but you'll just have to wait. I suppose I feel sorry for the parents too, but Thranduil really should have got to know his children better, as he said.
JUKIA ~~ yay! Individuality rocks! There are so many stories here that are all the same.
IMBEFANIEL ~~ well I did try to be nice. I did originally try to make this fic funny, but as you see, it didn't quite turn out like that, lol. Unless, that is, you're really sick and twisted. Do I take that as a complement?
DOT ~~ why thank you! The queen IS mad. Well, she is now, at least. I think Elrond understood Elrohir, because he used to have a twin himself, but he lost him because his twin chose a mortal life so yeah, he must understand.
LEXIE ~~ they'll all get out somehow, but whether they'll be okay, well, I'm not promising anything **evil sadistic smirk**
ELFAER GILIELL ~~ thanks!
ORODRUIN ~~ that's the feeling I was trying to get across! Creepy isn't it? Cliffies rule!