CHAPTER 20 - Does The Sun Still Shine?
The night was cold and dark with no stars or moon to guide a way, and the only light came from the campfires of the orcs. Legolas looked on sadly as he watched Nilwethion tied harshly against a large oak tree. Beside him, his brothers avoided looking completely. Each one of them was filled with shame and guilt every time they had even looked at Nilwethion, bumping up and down uncomfortably on the shoulder of the orc.
Nilwethion had not looked back at them once, nor had he said anything to them. If they tried to catch his glance, the betrayed prince would look away in the opposite direction, even if it meant burying his face in the orcs back. A disgusting thing in indeed.
Now they had stopped and Nilwethions bonds had been cut, only to be replaced quickly with these new bonds, binding him to the tree, rendering him helpless. Legolas could see how tightly the ropes dug in to his siblings flesh, tearing at his skin. Nilwethion, however, made no sound of complaint or of pain, but acted like a rag doll, similar to Elladan when they had first been captured.
Looking around, Legolas realised they were in exactly the same spot as they had been so long ago. How long ago was it anyway? More than a couple of days. Weeks, though how many Legolas did not know. He had lost track of the time again.
On the ground was dried blood where the orcs had first tortured Elladan, but instead of being repulsed and sickened as Legolas knew he ought to feel, the prince was slightly intrigued - drawn towards it with a sick sense of interest.
The sound of a creature being struck brought the prince to his senses and he looked towards the sound. An orc had slapped Nilwethion hard across the face leaving a huge red hand mark burning on the right side of the prince's face. Nilwethion turned his head away from the orc. It earned him another slap. Beside him, Astaler growled. The orc looked around and saw the three 'free' princes glaring at him. He gave Nilwethion a final slap for good luck, this time tearing away fair skin with his claws, and then walked away.
"Nilwethion!" Legolas hailed his brother, but got no response. He tried again. Still Nilwethion kept his head turned away.
Urshak appeared next to the young prince as if from nowhere, anger flashing in his ugly eyes. The orc grabbed Nilwethions face, digging his claws in, and shook the elf viciously.
"If yer brother calls yer, ya look at him!" he snarled. The orc then ripped away the bonds binding the prince to the large oak and flung him across the clearing. Again, Legolas was reminded of a rag doll. Maybe the one Calensil used to own before she flung it away in a temper tantrum years ago. Legolas remembered the doll hitting a chair and tumbling over the back, the torso ripping open having caught on the carving, just as Urshak now threw Nilwethion again, making him hit a tree. A trickle of blood left the prince's mouth. Around the clearing, orcs began laughing and jeering.
Toys. Something stirred in Legolas' memory. Just before the Imladris elves had arrived. What was it? Legolas forced himself to remember. Ah yes, that was it.
"Lin."
His voice was so soft only Astaler and Nuryávië heard it. They turned to him in surprise.
"Pardon?"
"Lin. His ear fell off just before the twins and their people arrived. I had forgotten completely what with the feast and . . ."
"And Aliela," Nuryávië finished the sentence with a small smile as Legolas blushed, "Of course. When we get home that bear is having his ear sewn on and is being locked in a glass box where no harm can come to him!"
"If we get back. We will be lucky to survive."
Suddenly, Legolas let out a small laugh. Around him the orcs did not notice, as they were too busy waiting for Urshak to allow them to 'play' with Nilwethion. Astaler and Nuryávië looked at him with shock.
"What is so funny?"
"This whole situation. Is it not ridiculous?" grinned Legolas. He looked at the identical looks of horror on his brothers' faces.
"I see nothing funny about this situation!"
The orcs around them cheered loudly suddenly, whooping and laughing so loudly the princes could hardly hear each other. Legolas dropped in to elvish so that even if one of the orcs was eavesdropping, they would not understand a word of it.
"Of course you do not Astaler. Think about it though. Think about the Plan. Is that not hilarious? Does it not strike you as funny that in a few weeks, or months - however long it takes to get to Imladris, Calensil and naneth will be dancing around and having the time of their lives, whilst the orcs think they are dead? Does it not strike you as funny that adar, the elf who gets bored if he has no affairs of state to see to, is locked away in a tomb where there is absolutely nothing for him to do but talk to a guard who he hardly knows for at least two weeks? Is it not hilarious that our adar, the very king who loves his food and drink so much we have at least a feast a month now has to survive on rations and no wine until we arrive home with? Is it not hilarious that almost every elf in our realm believes our whole family now to be dead? Do you not find that funny?"
The smiles on the faces of Astaler and Nuryávië had been growing and growing in size as Legolas spoke. As they looked at each other, they realised what Legolas was saying was perfectly true and just as ridiculous. As Astaler let out a small laugh, the orcs around him laughed loudly as well and they princes heard a dull moan. Their smiles vanished completely and they turned around to try and see through the orcs, but the press of bodies was too thick.
The three elves pushed their way through the orcs away from the sounds of Urshak torturing Nilwethion and climbed quickly up the oak tree, still with the rope lying limply at the bottom of it. When he had climbed a few branches up, Legolas paused.
"Why are we doing this?" he asked quietly. Astaler looked at him. Nuryávië was already higher than the other two and watching the sickening spectacle, growing paler and paler.
"Doing what?"
"Trying to see what is happening to Nilwethion."
Astaler pulled himself up further in to the branches before answering.
"To make ourselves angry at the orcs, I suppose. To make ourselves hate them in the way they made us hate adar."
The answer was enough. Perching on a thick branch to the right of Astaler and slightly lower down than Nuryávië, Legolas turned in the same direction of the orcs. As he watched Nilwethion writhing in pain on the ground and listened to the tortured cries of pain, bitter hatred welled up inside Legolas, just as Astaler had said it would. It took all the will power he had not to cry out to the orcs to stop, or to throw his dagger through the neck of the nearest one. Or Urshak.
"Legolas!"
The prince snapped his head around quickly when he heard Nuryávië hiss his name from the branches above his head. He looked up and saw both his brothers glaring at him.
"Get your hand off your dagger! Do you want us killed?"
Looking down, Legolas realised that he was clutching the hilt of his dagger. Slowly, he returned it to its hiding place. The three princes had enough weapons between them for an armoury, but the only weapons the orcs knew about were the swords hanging in their sheaths. Nice and obvious, but unlikely to be used. Legolas looked sheepishly at his brothers and then turned his attention back to the torment the orcs were giving out.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
When king Thranduil woke up, there was a small light flickering not far away. Turning his head, he saw that the small light came from a large, white candle. Looking around, he could see that he was now in the tomb. Rubbing his head he sat up, his body complaining loudly. He heard a small gasp and looked around.
Sitting cross-legged by the candle was a fairly young elven maiden dressed in Imlammthien's best dress. A black veil had been thrown back from her face, revealing her startlingly blue eyes and pale, terrified face. When the maiden saw it was the king, she relaxed. Thranduil walked over to her and sat opposite her, the candle in the middle.
"So you are the warrior Silnan chose for this mission?"
She nodded.
"Yes sir."
"Name?"
"Culkemen, your majesty,"
"A very pretty name, Culkemen."
In the candlelight, Culkemen blushed. She let out a small smile, but then looked around and shivered.
"Are you cold?" asked the king.
The warrior shook her head, but her eyes flickered towards the bones of the bodies already in the crypt for years. Thranduil began to understand, remembering how scared Oroweth used to be of death when he was a small child.
"You do not like being stuck with the bodies?"
"No your majesty. They scare me. I apologise."
"Do not apologise. You cannot help your fears, though I find myself wondering why you accepted the mission if you do not like it. Besides, I am sure my naneth would not object to you being here."
Culkemen nodded, but rubbed her arms as though still scared and moved closer to the candle.
"I scared you when I awoke, did I not?"
The other elf nodded miserably.
"I thought you were one of the dead come to kill me for invading their space for a moment," she whispered, embarrassment in her voice. She suddenly let out a small giggle. "I have been sitting by the candle terrifying myself with ghost stories my friends and I would tell each other as novices,"
The king joined her in the laughter.
"Were they good stories?" he asked. Culkemen nodded.
"Oh yes your majesty - although I am afraid at time they were too good. It is all well and good telling silly stories with your friends, but when you have to walk home in the dark through the woods . . . especially if the wind is howling or if it is foggy . . ." she trailed off and looked up again at the two bodies, shuddering.
"Is there any food here, or are we to starve?" asked the king, looking around. The candle only lit a small area and the shadows seemed to be creeping in. Culkemen nodded.
"It is in the corner over there. They have given us plenty of lembas, some fruit and a large barrel of water."
"Any wine?" Thranduil asked hopefully. Culkemen shook her head.
"I am willing to wager anything that was Legolas' doing! If I ever see him again . . ."
Thranduil trailed off as he remembered the recent events of his life, then began again sadly.
"If I ever see Legolas again I will most likely throw my arms around him and never let him out of my sight again. Do you have children?"
Culkemen nodded, her face lighting up.
"I have a young daughter named Sulin. She is asleep in the place of your daughter. May I ask . . . am I permitted to ask why we are here? Silnan told me not a word more than he had to."
For a moment Thranduil became angry with the warrior sitting opposite him, but then he looked at her face and thought of her daughter - who had not realised even existed until a few moments ago - and felt that he owed her something for such blind loyalty. Making decisions for yourself is a simple thing, Thranduil thought, but when you make a decision including your offspring without being given a proper reason . . .
"Very well," he muttered, "I suppose you have as much right to know as all others involved."
In the flickering candlelight, Thranduil began to tell the tale giving Culkemen every detail he knew and could remember. As the tale unfolded, the warrior began to wish more and more that she had never asked, thinking always of her daughter still sleeping in the corner. When he finished they sat silently for a few moments, and then Thranduil looked up at Culkemen with sad eyes.
"Tell me, does your sun still shine?" he asked sadly.
"I could not see it," came the reply, "Even if it did."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Legolas and Nuryávië knelt beside Nilwethion, who was lying on the ground bleeding and moaning occasionally.
"Astaler has gone to get some herbs to help you heal," offered Legolas timidly as Nilwethion moaned again. He looked at Nuryávië and bit his lip. The elf had been tortured for almost two hours without any help before Urshak had suddenly given him one last kick and told the three other elves to tend to him, much to the disappointment of the orcs.
"I do not want your help. You killed Calensil and adar and naneth!" he hissed. Legolas and Nuryávië looked at each other, and then Nuryávië nodded slightly. He slipped in to his own tongue.
"They are not dead," he muttered quickly, hoping the orcs would not hear him. Even though the orcs would not understand him, they would make him to stop speaking in elvish. "We only gave them a sleeping draught. They will be safe soon. Naneth and Calensil are going to Imladris until this is all. The bodies we laid to rest in the tombs were not dead. That was a warrior and her daughter who we also gave the sleeping draught to. Thranduil is with them."
Nilwethions eyes widened as he stared in wonder at his brothers.
"A pity you could not have given me the draught also," he whispered. He was still in pain, and did not feel that he could forgive his brothers so easily. Was this how they felt about adar?
"We apologise for that. We only just got away with 'killing' Calensil. If we had 'killed' both of you Urshak would not have been happy, and then he would take it out on the others."
"The others? Oroweth and Thellind?"
Legolas nodded sadly.
"Do not forget Elladan. He has it worse than any of us."
Nilwethion closed his eyes sadly. An image of the two brothers he had not seen for weeks flashed in front of his eyes, followed by an image of the twins at the feast laughing at Legolas and Aliela disappearing in to the forest. That image was followed by one of Calensil playing with a rag doll a few years ago, and then by an image of Legolas and Thellind laughing with him at a silly prank they played on Oroweth. He opened his eyes again, unwilling to see any more images. The face of a happy, care-free Legolas that had filled his mind just a moment before was replaced by a real image of the prince - his face drawn and full of worry.
At that moment, Astaler dropped down next to them, herbs and leaves used for healing in his hands. He pushed a piece of hair out of his face.
"The orcs are watching us," he whispered, "I saw them following me in the forest. Urshak has many of them watching us carefully. Whatever you do, no more elvish and nothing that could be of ill consequence if they hear it. Understand?"
His brothers nodded, and then began to tend to Nilwethion, making sure they gave an evil grin such as the ones the orcs gave if the prince cried out. If the orcs did not believe they truly had turned, their lives would be forfeit.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A/N: Congrats to AbbiCat14 and Orodruin for guessing most accurately What Happens Next. You both get a huge big cookie each! **Drags over two huge cookies** sorry if it's a bit big for ya to carry, one of my muses made it oversized with fairy magic. Not that that's a bad thing.
PERSONAL REVIEW THINGY
ICED1 ~ that wasn't very nice now was it? Lol. They did the only thing they could under the circumstances. I wouldn't be too hard on them - poor things. **Huggles princes**
LADY LARVLE OF MIRKWOOD ~ still chasing those plot bunnies? Try leaving some lettuce or carrot for them and then catch them when they go to eat it. Alternatively you could stun one, I suppose.
LOTRSEER3350 ~ lukewarm, but not quite warm enough to get a cookie. Nice guess though.
EBONY FALCON ~ I can't wait! It does sound like a good story.
IMBEFANIEL ~ you . . .you cried? Ooh, you poor thing! I didn't think I was THAT good! **Huggles**
ORODRUIN ~ go you! Like I said in the A/N, you and AbbiCat14 were the closest to guessing the chapter. Congratulations!
SILVERBUTTERFLY ~ petrol? **Gags** **chokes on petrol** **recovers** sorry, I only update once a week, and that's on Fridays. Until I start school again, and then it'll be Sundays. I can't write much faster than that!
TAMARA ~ why thank you
ABBICAT14 ~ well that was v-e-r-y close, but not quite there. Close enough to get your cookie though, so go you! Nothing ever is that simple. You plan it like that, but then somebody always ruins it. The only bit wrong was that Gandalf doesn't come to rescue them, something else happens.
The night was cold and dark with no stars or moon to guide a way, and the only light came from the campfires of the orcs. Legolas looked on sadly as he watched Nilwethion tied harshly against a large oak tree. Beside him, his brothers avoided looking completely. Each one of them was filled with shame and guilt every time they had even looked at Nilwethion, bumping up and down uncomfortably on the shoulder of the orc.
Nilwethion had not looked back at them once, nor had he said anything to them. If they tried to catch his glance, the betrayed prince would look away in the opposite direction, even if it meant burying his face in the orcs back. A disgusting thing in indeed.
Now they had stopped and Nilwethions bonds had been cut, only to be replaced quickly with these new bonds, binding him to the tree, rendering him helpless. Legolas could see how tightly the ropes dug in to his siblings flesh, tearing at his skin. Nilwethion, however, made no sound of complaint or of pain, but acted like a rag doll, similar to Elladan when they had first been captured.
Looking around, Legolas realised they were in exactly the same spot as they had been so long ago. How long ago was it anyway? More than a couple of days. Weeks, though how many Legolas did not know. He had lost track of the time again.
On the ground was dried blood where the orcs had first tortured Elladan, but instead of being repulsed and sickened as Legolas knew he ought to feel, the prince was slightly intrigued - drawn towards it with a sick sense of interest.
The sound of a creature being struck brought the prince to his senses and he looked towards the sound. An orc had slapped Nilwethion hard across the face leaving a huge red hand mark burning on the right side of the prince's face. Nilwethion turned his head away from the orc. It earned him another slap. Beside him, Astaler growled. The orc looked around and saw the three 'free' princes glaring at him. He gave Nilwethion a final slap for good luck, this time tearing away fair skin with his claws, and then walked away.
"Nilwethion!" Legolas hailed his brother, but got no response. He tried again. Still Nilwethion kept his head turned away.
Urshak appeared next to the young prince as if from nowhere, anger flashing in his ugly eyes. The orc grabbed Nilwethions face, digging his claws in, and shook the elf viciously.
"If yer brother calls yer, ya look at him!" he snarled. The orc then ripped away the bonds binding the prince to the large oak and flung him across the clearing. Again, Legolas was reminded of a rag doll. Maybe the one Calensil used to own before she flung it away in a temper tantrum years ago. Legolas remembered the doll hitting a chair and tumbling over the back, the torso ripping open having caught on the carving, just as Urshak now threw Nilwethion again, making him hit a tree. A trickle of blood left the prince's mouth. Around the clearing, orcs began laughing and jeering.
Toys. Something stirred in Legolas' memory. Just before the Imladris elves had arrived. What was it? Legolas forced himself to remember. Ah yes, that was it.
"Lin."
His voice was so soft only Astaler and Nuryávië heard it. They turned to him in surprise.
"Pardon?"
"Lin. His ear fell off just before the twins and their people arrived. I had forgotten completely what with the feast and . . ."
"And Aliela," Nuryávië finished the sentence with a small smile as Legolas blushed, "Of course. When we get home that bear is having his ear sewn on and is being locked in a glass box where no harm can come to him!"
"If we get back. We will be lucky to survive."
Suddenly, Legolas let out a small laugh. Around him the orcs did not notice, as they were too busy waiting for Urshak to allow them to 'play' with Nilwethion. Astaler and Nuryávië looked at him with shock.
"What is so funny?"
"This whole situation. Is it not ridiculous?" grinned Legolas. He looked at the identical looks of horror on his brothers' faces.
"I see nothing funny about this situation!"
The orcs around them cheered loudly suddenly, whooping and laughing so loudly the princes could hardly hear each other. Legolas dropped in to elvish so that even if one of the orcs was eavesdropping, they would not understand a word of it.
"Of course you do not Astaler. Think about it though. Think about the Plan. Is that not hilarious? Does it not strike you as funny that in a few weeks, or months - however long it takes to get to Imladris, Calensil and naneth will be dancing around and having the time of their lives, whilst the orcs think they are dead? Does it not strike you as funny that adar, the elf who gets bored if he has no affairs of state to see to, is locked away in a tomb where there is absolutely nothing for him to do but talk to a guard who he hardly knows for at least two weeks? Is it not hilarious that our adar, the very king who loves his food and drink so much we have at least a feast a month now has to survive on rations and no wine until we arrive home with? Is it not hilarious that almost every elf in our realm believes our whole family now to be dead? Do you not find that funny?"
The smiles on the faces of Astaler and Nuryávië had been growing and growing in size as Legolas spoke. As they looked at each other, they realised what Legolas was saying was perfectly true and just as ridiculous. As Astaler let out a small laugh, the orcs around him laughed loudly as well and they princes heard a dull moan. Their smiles vanished completely and they turned around to try and see through the orcs, but the press of bodies was too thick.
The three elves pushed their way through the orcs away from the sounds of Urshak torturing Nilwethion and climbed quickly up the oak tree, still with the rope lying limply at the bottom of it. When he had climbed a few branches up, Legolas paused.
"Why are we doing this?" he asked quietly. Astaler looked at him. Nuryávië was already higher than the other two and watching the sickening spectacle, growing paler and paler.
"Doing what?"
"Trying to see what is happening to Nilwethion."
Astaler pulled himself up further in to the branches before answering.
"To make ourselves angry at the orcs, I suppose. To make ourselves hate them in the way they made us hate adar."
The answer was enough. Perching on a thick branch to the right of Astaler and slightly lower down than Nuryávië, Legolas turned in the same direction of the orcs. As he watched Nilwethion writhing in pain on the ground and listened to the tortured cries of pain, bitter hatred welled up inside Legolas, just as Astaler had said it would. It took all the will power he had not to cry out to the orcs to stop, or to throw his dagger through the neck of the nearest one. Or Urshak.
"Legolas!"
The prince snapped his head around quickly when he heard Nuryávië hiss his name from the branches above his head. He looked up and saw both his brothers glaring at him.
"Get your hand off your dagger! Do you want us killed?"
Looking down, Legolas realised that he was clutching the hilt of his dagger. Slowly, he returned it to its hiding place. The three princes had enough weapons between them for an armoury, but the only weapons the orcs knew about were the swords hanging in their sheaths. Nice and obvious, but unlikely to be used. Legolas looked sheepishly at his brothers and then turned his attention back to the torment the orcs were giving out.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
When king Thranduil woke up, there was a small light flickering not far away. Turning his head, he saw that the small light came from a large, white candle. Looking around, he could see that he was now in the tomb. Rubbing his head he sat up, his body complaining loudly. He heard a small gasp and looked around.
Sitting cross-legged by the candle was a fairly young elven maiden dressed in Imlammthien's best dress. A black veil had been thrown back from her face, revealing her startlingly blue eyes and pale, terrified face. When the maiden saw it was the king, she relaxed. Thranduil walked over to her and sat opposite her, the candle in the middle.
"So you are the warrior Silnan chose for this mission?"
She nodded.
"Yes sir."
"Name?"
"Culkemen, your majesty,"
"A very pretty name, Culkemen."
In the candlelight, Culkemen blushed. She let out a small smile, but then looked around and shivered.
"Are you cold?" asked the king.
The warrior shook her head, but her eyes flickered towards the bones of the bodies already in the crypt for years. Thranduil began to understand, remembering how scared Oroweth used to be of death when he was a small child.
"You do not like being stuck with the bodies?"
"No your majesty. They scare me. I apologise."
"Do not apologise. You cannot help your fears, though I find myself wondering why you accepted the mission if you do not like it. Besides, I am sure my naneth would not object to you being here."
Culkemen nodded, but rubbed her arms as though still scared and moved closer to the candle.
"I scared you when I awoke, did I not?"
The other elf nodded miserably.
"I thought you were one of the dead come to kill me for invading their space for a moment," she whispered, embarrassment in her voice. She suddenly let out a small giggle. "I have been sitting by the candle terrifying myself with ghost stories my friends and I would tell each other as novices,"
The king joined her in the laughter.
"Were they good stories?" he asked. Culkemen nodded.
"Oh yes your majesty - although I am afraid at time they were too good. It is all well and good telling silly stories with your friends, but when you have to walk home in the dark through the woods . . . especially if the wind is howling or if it is foggy . . ." she trailed off and looked up again at the two bodies, shuddering.
"Is there any food here, or are we to starve?" asked the king, looking around. The candle only lit a small area and the shadows seemed to be creeping in. Culkemen nodded.
"It is in the corner over there. They have given us plenty of lembas, some fruit and a large barrel of water."
"Any wine?" Thranduil asked hopefully. Culkemen shook her head.
"I am willing to wager anything that was Legolas' doing! If I ever see him again . . ."
Thranduil trailed off as he remembered the recent events of his life, then began again sadly.
"If I ever see Legolas again I will most likely throw my arms around him and never let him out of my sight again. Do you have children?"
Culkemen nodded, her face lighting up.
"I have a young daughter named Sulin. She is asleep in the place of your daughter. May I ask . . . am I permitted to ask why we are here? Silnan told me not a word more than he had to."
For a moment Thranduil became angry with the warrior sitting opposite him, but then he looked at her face and thought of her daughter - who had not realised even existed until a few moments ago - and felt that he owed her something for such blind loyalty. Making decisions for yourself is a simple thing, Thranduil thought, but when you make a decision including your offspring without being given a proper reason . . .
"Very well," he muttered, "I suppose you have as much right to know as all others involved."
In the flickering candlelight, Thranduil began to tell the tale giving Culkemen every detail he knew and could remember. As the tale unfolded, the warrior began to wish more and more that she had never asked, thinking always of her daughter still sleeping in the corner. When he finished they sat silently for a few moments, and then Thranduil looked up at Culkemen with sad eyes.
"Tell me, does your sun still shine?" he asked sadly.
"I could not see it," came the reply, "Even if it did."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Legolas and Nuryávië knelt beside Nilwethion, who was lying on the ground bleeding and moaning occasionally.
"Astaler has gone to get some herbs to help you heal," offered Legolas timidly as Nilwethion moaned again. He looked at Nuryávië and bit his lip. The elf had been tortured for almost two hours without any help before Urshak had suddenly given him one last kick and told the three other elves to tend to him, much to the disappointment of the orcs.
"I do not want your help. You killed Calensil and adar and naneth!" he hissed. Legolas and Nuryávië looked at each other, and then Nuryávië nodded slightly. He slipped in to his own tongue.
"They are not dead," he muttered quickly, hoping the orcs would not hear him. Even though the orcs would not understand him, they would make him to stop speaking in elvish. "We only gave them a sleeping draught. They will be safe soon. Naneth and Calensil are going to Imladris until this is all. The bodies we laid to rest in the tombs were not dead. That was a warrior and her daughter who we also gave the sleeping draught to. Thranduil is with them."
Nilwethions eyes widened as he stared in wonder at his brothers.
"A pity you could not have given me the draught also," he whispered. He was still in pain, and did not feel that he could forgive his brothers so easily. Was this how they felt about adar?
"We apologise for that. We only just got away with 'killing' Calensil. If we had 'killed' both of you Urshak would not have been happy, and then he would take it out on the others."
"The others? Oroweth and Thellind?"
Legolas nodded sadly.
"Do not forget Elladan. He has it worse than any of us."
Nilwethion closed his eyes sadly. An image of the two brothers he had not seen for weeks flashed in front of his eyes, followed by an image of the twins at the feast laughing at Legolas and Aliela disappearing in to the forest. That image was followed by one of Calensil playing with a rag doll a few years ago, and then by an image of Legolas and Thellind laughing with him at a silly prank they played on Oroweth. He opened his eyes again, unwilling to see any more images. The face of a happy, care-free Legolas that had filled his mind just a moment before was replaced by a real image of the prince - his face drawn and full of worry.
At that moment, Astaler dropped down next to them, herbs and leaves used for healing in his hands. He pushed a piece of hair out of his face.
"The orcs are watching us," he whispered, "I saw them following me in the forest. Urshak has many of them watching us carefully. Whatever you do, no more elvish and nothing that could be of ill consequence if they hear it. Understand?"
His brothers nodded, and then began to tend to Nilwethion, making sure they gave an evil grin such as the ones the orcs gave if the prince cried out. If the orcs did not believe they truly had turned, their lives would be forfeit.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A/N: Congrats to AbbiCat14 and Orodruin for guessing most accurately What Happens Next. You both get a huge big cookie each! **Drags over two huge cookies** sorry if it's a bit big for ya to carry, one of my muses made it oversized with fairy magic. Not that that's a bad thing.
PERSONAL REVIEW THINGY
ICED1 ~ that wasn't very nice now was it? Lol. They did the only thing they could under the circumstances. I wouldn't be too hard on them - poor things. **Huggles princes**
LADY LARVLE OF MIRKWOOD ~ still chasing those plot bunnies? Try leaving some lettuce or carrot for them and then catch them when they go to eat it. Alternatively you could stun one, I suppose.
LOTRSEER3350 ~ lukewarm, but not quite warm enough to get a cookie. Nice guess though.
EBONY FALCON ~ I can't wait! It does sound like a good story.
IMBEFANIEL ~ you . . .you cried? Ooh, you poor thing! I didn't think I was THAT good! **Huggles**
ORODRUIN ~ go you! Like I said in the A/N, you and AbbiCat14 were the closest to guessing the chapter. Congratulations!
SILVERBUTTERFLY ~ petrol? **Gags** **chokes on petrol** **recovers** sorry, I only update once a week, and that's on Fridays. Until I start school again, and then it'll be Sundays. I can't write much faster than that!
TAMARA ~ why thank you
ABBICAT14 ~ well that was v-e-r-y close, but not quite there. Close enough to get your cookie though, so go you! Nothing ever is that simple. You plan it like that, but then somebody always ruins it. The only bit wrong was that Gandalf doesn't come to rescue them, something else happens.