CHAPTER 22 - From Dale To Valinor
Huddled together in the cold, dim light of the cell, the princes and Elladan shivered in silence, waiting for the orcs to re-appear before attempting to escape. The beats of their hearts and the steady breathing were the only sounds to be heard. Legolas grasped his hidden dagger, cold sweat drenching his palms.
At last, the dull thud of approaching feet came from outside. The young prince dragged his hand away from the dagger before he gave the game away and the orcs realised the escape plan. They would know soon enough anyway, but the element of surprise was important. If they could just kill the guards without making a sound . . .
The door swung open with a loud creaking sound, and light flooded in from the corridor - red light, but enough to make the princes look away and shield their eyes. Urshak stepped in to the dingy cell, closely followed by several smirking guards, their evil yellow eyes full of glee.
Urshak walked towards the elves with a swagger only used by winners who gloat. In each hand he held a whip with nine strands, tiny blades woven in to the ends with more care than Legolas thought the orcs could possibly give. The ugly orc cracked one of the whips down on the ankles of Thellind and the prince whimpered. Urshak laughed and cracked the other whip, this time catching Nuryávië in the chest.
Instead of whimpering, however, Nuryávië growled. This seemed only to appease Urshak more.
"Rest time is over, little ones. Time for my boys t' get their play!"
As he raised one of the whips again, he was interrupted. An orc shuffled in through the open door and coughed loudly. Urshak turned around and lowered the whip.
"What?"
"There's elves set out from the stronghold, cap'n. The foreign ones. They spotted one of our lads an' killed 'im. The lads are already waitin' outside for yez, sir."
Urshak hissed and flicked the whip, striking the floor with a sharp crack. He turned back to the princes.
"Don't go thinkin' we've let yew off the hook, little traitor princes. I'll be leaving ya for a bit, but my lads are still here to have some fun."
Urshak gave a mock bow to the elves and swept of angrily out of the door. The unfortunate orc who had brought the message turned to follow his leader, but one of the guards blocked his way. Raising his sword, the guard slashed downwards and the messenger fell dead, headless. The guard then dipped his hand in to the pool of blood already forming and walked over to the elves, still huddled together. He wiped his hand over Legolas' face, sniggering.
The taste of blood stung in the young elfs mouth like cold metal. He spat it out on to the rocky floor, disgusted. This earned him a slap across the face from the overly large orc in front of him.
As the orc looked down at the prince on the floor and raised his hand to strike the fair creature again, he felt a sharp blade against his throat. His yellow eyes swivelled sideways to see Astaler holding a dagger to his throat. Behind him, the door clanged shut.
"That was very unwise, my friend," said the prince. His voice was low and silky, and more dangerous - far more dangerous - than Urshak. A thin gurgle came from the shadows, and a few dull thuds. The orc hissed loudly and reached for the scimitar at his belt.
Before he even touched the weapon, he fell to the ground. Dead.
Astaler wiped his blade clean on his shirt and turned around, smiling grimly. The blood of the orc was already flowing along the floor, mingling with the blood of the first dead creature. The prince pulled Legolas up to his feet as the younger of the two raised a delicate eyebrow.
"You have saved none for me!"
His brother looked guilty for a moment before looking around the room. The three other guards were, indeed, dead. Two had daggers in their throats, thrown from the other side of the room, and the other had his throat slit. Nice, silent and efficient.
"I am hardly the only one to blame, my dear blood covered brother," replied Astaler, "Oroweth and Nuryávië killed those three. It really was quite thoughtless of them to give seven elves - and elves trained as warriors by the best fighters Mirkwood has - only four guards."
The others nodded.
"Shall we go?" asked Nilwethion as he stood up. Oroweth shook his head.
"Not yet. Urshak and the main party of orcs will still be here. We must wait a little longer."
"You do realise," said Elladan slowly, "That even though many of the orcs have gone, we will still be overwhelmed by the remaining orcs - so much so that it will take a miracle for us to escape alive."
Legolas flashed a cheeky grin at Elladan, feeling as though he was living in a dream.
"Aye, perhaps, but at least this way we will take a few of them with us. We shall make a stand to put Glorfindel and his Balrog to shame! Minstrels will sing of us from Dale to Valinor and all the lands in between!"
"Legolas?"
"Yes Nilwethion?"
"How will the minstrels be able to sing of us if they do not even know we made a stand? If we are killed here, nobody will know what we have done."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Oroweth?"
"Yes?"
"Can we go yet? The candle has almost burnt to a stub, the main party of orcs must be well away by now."
Oroweth paused to think about it, and then nodded. The elven prisoners had gone over the plan - in so far as they had a plan - enough times so that even a young, untrained elfling would know what to do. It was not, however, a very difficult plan. Sneak out in to the corridor and kill as many orcs as possible silently before the alarm is raised. Then fight for your life and get to the exit as quickly as possible whilst sticking together.
That was the only really important part of the plan. Stick together and have the possibility of life, or split up and die for sure.
Thellind, the prince nearest the door, pushed it open slowly and slid out through the door, clutching his dagger so hard his knuckles were white. There was a gurgle as he stabbed the orc on guard outside through the neck, and then he signalled for the others to follow.
~
When asked afterwards, Legolas never could tell anybody what exactly happened that day.
All the elf of Mirkwood could ever remember was creeping down the silent corridor in single file, Elladan in front of him and Nilwethion behind him. He could only remember hearing the whimpers and moans of the seven dead orcs as Thellind, who was in front, killed them with practised, emotionless ease, and then stepping over the twitching bodies. He could remember hearing the warning yell of an orc just before it was stabbed through the heart, and then the answering cries of its fellow orcs as they realised what was happening, before he blanked out.
~
The young prince swore under his breath as he saw the attacking orcs running down the dark corridor with the scimitars held high above their heads, ready to attack, foam and spit flying out from the corners of their mouths in anger.
His brothers and Elladan moved in to a tight circle, slashing and cutting at the opposing force. Their knives met with flesh and howls of increasing anger, as none of the orcs could reach the speedy blades aggravating them.
As Legolas parried with a particularly difficult orc, moving as quickly as he could with the others towards the main hall and then the exit, an elven voice next to him began singing, raised high above the sound of the skirmish. Legolas laughed, as he realised how much the fair voice of Nilwethion was unnerving the orcs, and making them become even angrier and make mistakes. In the case of the orc he was battling, the mistake was one mistake too many. As he beheaded the orc, Legolas joined Nilwethion with the song - a simple song sung by young elflings as they played in the fields and forests. His spirits began to lift high above the slaughter and the mass of stinking corpses and thick, sticky blood. Killing the orcs seemed somehow to become much easier.
Orc after orc fell to the elves, but it could not last. The elves began to slowly tire, having little energy left, whereas their enemies kept coming on fresh and ready for battle.
A small but swift orc came up against Legolas, and after a few moments the vile creature managed to get past the princes defences and stabbed just below his ribs. The young prince gasped in pain, and stabbed the little orc through the eye, making it topple over in to its fellows giving Legolas a short break. The damage had been done, however, and Legolas clutched at the wound, pulling out the deeply embedded knife. Blood seeped through his fingers and his vision blurred slightly before returning to normal. The prince gave another gasp, his breathing becoming ragged.
There was a loud, deafening howl behind him, and then the orcs scattered. Turning around, Legolas saw an orc falling to his knees in front of Elladan, a stolen long sword sticking through his body.
"Come on," gasped Oroweth, realising how quickly the other orcs had fled when they heard the dying scream, "He must have been second in command. We must escape whilst we can, before they come back!"
Without looking back, the seven elves fled down the corridor and in to the main hall, leaping over dead bodies and half stumbling on the bones that made the paths, made slippery with blood. They ran in to the great hall of the orcs to find it empty, to their great relief. As they half flew across the vast space, however, an arrow thudded in to the ground next to Thellind's feet, followed by another and another. The next arrow hit Astaler in the side as he ran, but he did not stop. If anything, after a slight stumble, the arrow gave the prince an extra spurt as he reached the pitch-black tunnel leading out of the caves. A few more arrows fell about the elves, most of them missing, but two more found their marks. One hit Legolas in his left arm and the other hit Thellind, piercing his leg and making him fall.
Grinding his teeth against his own pain, Legolas dragged Thellind up and pulled him to the safety of the tunnel.
Once in the darkness of the tunnel, the elves did not stop to catch their breath as the cries and howls of the orcs were already getting louder behind them. Instead, they carried on running up the tunnels, their hands tracing the line of the wall so they did not waste valuable time bumping in to each other or the walls.
When they reached the top, Astaler, Elladan and Nuryávië shoved aside the huge boulder that blocked the entrance and the seven elves emerged in to the bright sunlight, blinking owlishly.
They paused to catch their breath, only continuing to run when they heard the clamour from the orcs they had just escaped from.
Only when they had disappeared as deep in to the forest as they could get without collapsing from blood loss or lack of energy did the escapees finally stop to rest, flopping down on to the forest floor and lying there, panting heavily. The orcs, they knew, would not be following them for a few hours yet, at least until sundown. They were safe, for the moment. At last, Legolas spoke.
"Could someone please tell me what just happened?" he managed, and then he cringed, his wounds hurting him. Clenching his teeth, he grabbed hold of the arrow in his arm and yanked it out. As he pulled it away, the metal tip came off, still embedded in his flesh. Elladan looked up.
"We . . . we just escaped certain death!" the Imladris elf gasped, before flopping back down, "Sweet Eru my chest hurts!"
Looking over at the half elf, Legolas realised that a large, deep gash ran diagonally from his shoulder to half way down his ribs on the other side of his torso. As if upset that Legolas had begun to take more interest in the wounds of another, a sharp stab of pain reminded Legolas that he had, himself been stabbed by an orc. Looking down, he saw his own black blood staining his clothes and skin.
"If it was certain death," replied Astaler, equally out of breath, "That must mean that we are dead."
"Then Legolas' minstrels shall sing of the hordes of orcs slain by the six dead princes of Mirkwood and their dead friend from Imladris!" came the retort from Nilwethion, half laughed.
"Do dead elves feel this much pain?" moaned Oroweth, as Astaler pulled the arrow from his shoulder. Nearby, Thellind whimpered slightly as he pulled the arrow from his calf.
"Apparently so," growled Legolas, "Remind me never to wear these formal shoes again! 'Tis so difficult to run in them!"
The young prince pulled his shoes off, getting his hands even filthier with blood and dirt that the shoes had picked up along the way. Astaler and Nuryávië pulled theirs off as well; shoving them under a bush so there would be no sign of them should the orcs find them later.
"I lost one of my boots in the fight somehow so I may as well leave the other here," sighed Oroweth, getting his breath back, "And they took Elladans."
"I can speak for myself," muttered Elladan, sullenly.
Legolas laughed suddenly.
"So that only leaves one of us with footwear! You may as well leave them here Thellind, or you will not be able to get them off later! They are caked with blood, and I hate to think what it will be like when it dries!"
Shrugging, the older prince pulled his boots away and left them with the others under the bush.
"What? Nothing to say?"
Astaler glared at Legolas.
"He has not spoken a word since you three were . . . given your mission."
Legolas bit his lip, remembering how silent the elf had been last time they had been together. He blushed and looked away.
"We cannot linger here long," said Nilwethion, changing the subject quickly, "We must go now, if we want any hope of getting to the Imladris elves before Urshak and his mob!"
Suddenly, Legolas' eyes opened wide, horrified.
"Oh Eru," he whispered, "Naneth and Calensil!"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A/N: Oh look, it's a cliffie! Heh. *Smirks*. Also, thank you all very much for all the lovely reviews. Yet again, thank you all very much for reviewing, is there anyway I can improve on the writing? I love reviews, but I love them even more if they have constructive criticism in them!
*Gives all the lovely reviewers a nice big cookie each*
PERSONAL REVIEW THINGY
MAVERICK GIRL ~ thank you. I try to add twists and turns to make it interesting.
LOTRSEER3350 ~ back together? Does that mean it all fell apart somewhere along the way?
SARA ~ *hugs* hey, glad you finally came to join us! For a while I thought about keeping the orc as really bring prince Neldoreth, but as you can see I have changed my mind.
LEXIE02 ~ they still have red eyes, y'know. I'll be coming back to that, I think. It was all to do with that black liquid Urshak forced down their throats.
SLG ~ oh I just had a few people telling me that particular chapter was confusing. I think because for the first half of the chapter I made it seem as though the three royals were dead, and then halfway down it came out that they were, in fact, alive. That's what made it confusing.
LITTLE WITCH ~ lol. They ought to put spell check on the review thingy.
MOONMIST ~ ooh, happy birthday then! Which fic? You mean Déjà vu? Um, actually I'm thinking about deleting that one. I really, really hate it.
NIKKIFIER ~ glued to the computer? Sounds painful indeed!
JUKIA WOLFCALL ~ heh. *Joins in the dance* blood thirty child, lol. If you want wars, go read Déjà vu. That has a war in, although I deeply regret writing it.
ICED1 ~ I never really thought about it, but yes he is quite spunky isn't he? I hope you get over the muse problem soon.
BEC ~ you really think this story line is intricate? I didn't think so. Not really. I suppose though, intricate is all a matter of opinion.
LADY LARVLE OF MIRKWOOD ~ other authors? You really think I'm going to let any authors I don't know find that warren? Lol. Not likely! Yes, Urshak lied. He is an orc.
TAMARA ~ don't worry, they've escaped.
COOLIO02 ~ why thank you!
IMBEFANIEL ~ Awww, you poor thing! Nobody to comfort you at all? Have an extra contort cookie! And lots and lots of hugs from my muses and me.
SARAH / MELODY ~ thanks for the plot bunny, but you keep him. I already have the whole fic worked out. Lady Larvle of Mirkwood and I also know where to find a nice big warren full of plot bunnies.
ORODRUIN ~ well it wasn't much of a plan, as you can see. More "run like heck for the exit and kill as many as you can on the way!" type plan. Then again, simple often works best. The keys, in the end, were used to keep the princes locked IN until they wanted to escape. Ah, the irony.
PIRATE-CHICHA ~ glad we got that sorted out. =)
GILRAEN3 ~ thanks very much!
ELFAER GILIELL ~ I've updated! Obviously . . .
Huddled together in the cold, dim light of the cell, the princes and Elladan shivered in silence, waiting for the orcs to re-appear before attempting to escape. The beats of their hearts and the steady breathing were the only sounds to be heard. Legolas grasped his hidden dagger, cold sweat drenching his palms.
At last, the dull thud of approaching feet came from outside. The young prince dragged his hand away from the dagger before he gave the game away and the orcs realised the escape plan. They would know soon enough anyway, but the element of surprise was important. If they could just kill the guards without making a sound . . .
The door swung open with a loud creaking sound, and light flooded in from the corridor - red light, but enough to make the princes look away and shield their eyes. Urshak stepped in to the dingy cell, closely followed by several smirking guards, their evil yellow eyes full of glee.
Urshak walked towards the elves with a swagger only used by winners who gloat. In each hand he held a whip with nine strands, tiny blades woven in to the ends with more care than Legolas thought the orcs could possibly give. The ugly orc cracked one of the whips down on the ankles of Thellind and the prince whimpered. Urshak laughed and cracked the other whip, this time catching Nuryávië in the chest.
Instead of whimpering, however, Nuryávië growled. This seemed only to appease Urshak more.
"Rest time is over, little ones. Time for my boys t' get their play!"
As he raised one of the whips again, he was interrupted. An orc shuffled in through the open door and coughed loudly. Urshak turned around and lowered the whip.
"What?"
"There's elves set out from the stronghold, cap'n. The foreign ones. They spotted one of our lads an' killed 'im. The lads are already waitin' outside for yez, sir."
Urshak hissed and flicked the whip, striking the floor with a sharp crack. He turned back to the princes.
"Don't go thinkin' we've let yew off the hook, little traitor princes. I'll be leaving ya for a bit, but my lads are still here to have some fun."
Urshak gave a mock bow to the elves and swept of angrily out of the door. The unfortunate orc who had brought the message turned to follow his leader, but one of the guards blocked his way. Raising his sword, the guard slashed downwards and the messenger fell dead, headless. The guard then dipped his hand in to the pool of blood already forming and walked over to the elves, still huddled together. He wiped his hand over Legolas' face, sniggering.
The taste of blood stung in the young elfs mouth like cold metal. He spat it out on to the rocky floor, disgusted. This earned him a slap across the face from the overly large orc in front of him.
As the orc looked down at the prince on the floor and raised his hand to strike the fair creature again, he felt a sharp blade against his throat. His yellow eyes swivelled sideways to see Astaler holding a dagger to his throat. Behind him, the door clanged shut.
"That was very unwise, my friend," said the prince. His voice was low and silky, and more dangerous - far more dangerous - than Urshak. A thin gurgle came from the shadows, and a few dull thuds. The orc hissed loudly and reached for the scimitar at his belt.
Before he even touched the weapon, he fell to the ground. Dead.
Astaler wiped his blade clean on his shirt and turned around, smiling grimly. The blood of the orc was already flowing along the floor, mingling with the blood of the first dead creature. The prince pulled Legolas up to his feet as the younger of the two raised a delicate eyebrow.
"You have saved none for me!"
His brother looked guilty for a moment before looking around the room. The three other guards were, indeed, dead. Two had daggers in their throats, thrown from the other side of the room, and the other had his throat slit. Nice, silent and efficient.
"I am hardly the only one to blame, my dear blood covered brother," replied Astaler, "Oroweth and Nuryávië killed those three. It really was quite thoughtless of them to give seven elves - and elves trained as warriors by the best fighters Mirkwood has - only four guards."
The others nodded.
"Shall we go?" asked Nilwethion as he stood up. Oroweth shook his head.
"Not yet. Urshak and the main party of orcs will still be here. We must wait a little longer."
"You do realise," said Elladan slowly, "That even though many of the orcs have gone, we will still be overwhelmed by the remaining orcs - so much so that it will take a miracle for us to escape alive."
Legolas flashed a cheeky grin at Elladan, feeling as though he was living in a dream.
"Aye, perhaps, but at least this way we will take a few of them with us. We shall make a stand to put Glorfindel and his Balrog to shame! Minstrels will sing of us from Dale to Valinor and all the lands in between!"
"Legolas?"
"Yes Nilwethion?"
"How will the minstrels be able to sing of us if they do not even know we made a stand? If we are killed here, nobody will know what we have done."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Oroweth?"
"Yes?"
"Can we go yet? The candle has almost burnt to a stub, the main party of orcs must be well away by now."
Oroweth paused to think about it, and then nodded. The elven prisoners had gone over the plan - in so far as they had a plan - enough times so that even a young, untrained elfling would know what to do. It was not, however, a very difficult plan. Sneak out in to the corridor and kill as many orcs as possible silently before the alarm is raised. Then fight for your life and get to the exit as quickly as possible whilst sticking together.
That was the only really important part of the plan. Stick together and have the possibility of life, or split up and die for sure.
Thellind, the prince nearest the door, pushed it open slowly and slid out through the door, clutching his dagger so hard his knuckles were white. There was a gurgle as he stabbed the orc on guard outside through the neck, and then he signalled for the others to follow.
~
When asked afterwards, Legolas never could tell anybody what exactly happened that day.
All the elf of Mirkwood could ever remember was creeping down the silent corridor in single file, Elladan in front of him and Nilwethion behind him. He could only remember hearing the whimpers and moans of the seven dead orcs as Thellind, who was in front, killed them with practised, emotionless ease, and then stepping over the twitching bodies. He could remember hearing the warning yell of an orc just before it was stabbed through the heart, and then the answering cries of its fellow orcs as they realised what was happening, before he blanked out.
~
The young prince swore under his breath as he saw the attacking orcs running down the dark corridor with the scimitars held high above their heads, ready to attack, foam and spit flying out from the corners of their mouths in anger.
His brothers and Elladan moved in to a tight circle, slashing and cutting at the opposing force. Their knives met with flesh and howls of increasing anger, as none of the orcs could reach the speedy blades aggravating them.
As Legolas parried with a particularly difficult orc, moving as quickly as he could with the others towards the main hall and then the exit, an elven voice next to him began singing, raised high above the sound of the skirmish. Legolas laughed, as he realised how much the fair voice of Nilwethion was unnerving the orcs, and making them become even angrier and make mistakes. In the case of the orc he was battling, the mistake was one mistake too many. As he beheaded the orc, Legolas joined Nilwethion with the song - a simple song sung by young elflings as they played in the fields and forests. His spirits began to lift high above the slaughter and the mass of stinking corpses and thick, sticky blood. Killing the orcs seemed somehow to become much easier.
Orc after orc fell to the elves, but it could not last. The elves began to slowly tire, having little energy left, whereas their enemies kept coming on fresh and ready for battle.
A small but swift orc came up against Legolas, and after a few moments the vile creature managed to get past the princes defences and stabbed just below his ribs. The young prince gasped in pain, and stabbed the little orc through the eye, making it topple over in to its fellows giving Legolas a short break. The damage had been done, however, and Legolas clutched at the wound, pulling out the deeply embedded knife. Blood seeped through his fingers and his vision blurred slightly before returning to normal. The prince gave another gasp, his breathing becoming ragged.
There was a loud, deafening howl behind him, and then the orcs scattered. Turning around, Legolas saw an orc falling to his knees in front of Elladan, a stolen long sword sticking through his body.
"Come on," gasped Oroweth, realising how quickly the other orcs had fled when they heard the dying scream, "He must have been second in command. We must escape whilst we can, before they come back!"
Without looking back, the seven elves fled down the corridor and in to the main hall, leaping over dead bodies and half stumbling on the bones that made the paths, made slippery with blood. They ran in to the great hall of the orcs to find it empty, to their great relief. As they half flew across the vast space, however, an arrow thudded in to the ground next to Thellind's feet, followed by another and another. The next arrow hit Astaler in the side as he ran, but he did not stop. If anything, after a slight stumble, the arrow gave the prince an extra spurt as he reached the pitch-black tunnel leading out of the caves. A few more arrows fell about the elves, most of them missing, but two more found their marks. One hit Legolas in his left arm and the other hit Thellind, piercing his leg and making him fall.
Grinding his teeth against his own pain, Legolas dragged Thellind up and pulled him to the safety of the tunnel.
Once in the darkness of the tunnel, the elves did not stop to catch their breath as the cries and howls of the orcs were already getting louder behind them. Instead, they carried on running up the tunnels, their hands tracing the line of the wall so they did not waste valuable time bumping in to each other or the walls.
When they reached the top, Astaler, Elladan and Nuryávië shoved aside the huge boulder that blocked the entrance and the seven elves emerged in to the bright sunlight, blinking owlishly.
They paused to catch their breath, only continuing to run when they heard the clamour from the orcs they had just escaped from.
Only when they had disappeared as deep in to the forest as they could get without collapsing from blood loss or lack of energy did the escapees finally stop to rest, flopping down on to the forest floor and lying there, panting heavily. The orcs, they knew, would not be following them for a few hours yet, at least until sundown. They were safe, for the moment. At last, Legolas spoke.
"Could someone please tell me what just happened?" he managed, and then he cringed, his wounds hurting him. Clenching his teeth, he grabbed hold of the arrow in his arm and yanked it out. As he pulled it away, the metal tip came off, still embedded in his flesh. Elladan looked up.
"We . . . we just escaped certain death!" the Imladris elf gasped, before flopping back down, "Sweet Eru my chest hurts!"
Looking over at the half elf, Legolas realised that a large, deep gash ran diagonally from his shoulder to half way down his ribs on the other side of his torso. As if upset that Legolas had begun to take more interest in the wounds of another, a sharp stab of pain reminded Legolas that he had, himself been stabbed by an orc. Looking down, he saw his own black blood staining his clothes and skin.
"If it was certain death," replied Astaler, equally out of breath, "That must mean that we are dead."
"Then Legolas' minstrels shall sing of the hordes of orcs slain by the six dead princes of Mirkwood and their dead friend from Imladris!" came the retort from Nilwethion, half laughed.
"Do dead elves feel this much pain?" moaned Oroweth, as Astaler pulled the arrow from his shoulder. Nearby, Thellind whimpered slightly as he pulled the arrow from his calf.
"Apparently so," growled Legolas, "Remind me never to wear these formal shoes again! 'Tis so difficult to run in them!"
The young prince pulled his shoes off, getting his hands even filthier with blood and dirt that the shoes had picked up along the way. Astaler and Nuryávië pulled theirs off as well; shoving them under a bush so there would be no sign of them should the orcs find them later.
"I lost one of my boots in the fight somehow so I may as well leave the other here," sighed Oroweth, getting his breath back, "And they took Elladans."
"I can speak for myself," muttered Elladan, sullenly.
Legolas laughed suddenly.
"So that only leaves one of us with footwear! You may as well leave them here Thellind, or you will not be able to get them off later! They are caked with blood, and I hate to think what it will be like when it dries!"
Shrugging, the older prince pulled his boots away and left them with the others under the bush.
"What? Nothing to say?"
Astaler glared at Legolas.
"He has not spoken a word since you three were . . . given your mission."
Legolas bit his lip, remembering how silent the elf had been last time they had been together. He blushed and looked away.
"We cannot linger here long," said Nilwethion, changing the subject quickly, "We must go now, if we want any hope of getting to the Imladris elves before Urshak and his mob!"
Suddenly, Legolas' eyes opened wide, horrified.
"Oh Eru," he whispered, "Naneth and Calensil!"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A/N: Oh look, it's a cliffie! Heh. *Smirks*. Also, thank you all very much for all the lovely reviews. Yet again, thank you all very much for reviewing, is there anyway I can improve on the writing? I love reviews, but I love them even more if they have constructive criticism in them!
*Gives all the lovely reviewers a nice big cookie each*
PERSONAL REVIEW THINGY
MAVERICK GIRL ~ thank you. I try to add twists and turns to make it interesting.
LOTRSEER3350 ~ back together? Does that mean it all fell apart somewhere along the way?
SARA ~ *hugs* hey, glad you finally came to join us! For a while I thought about keeping the orc as really bring prince Neldoreth, but as you can see I have changed my mind.
LEXIE02 ~ they still have red eyes, y'know. I'll be coming back to that, I think. It was all to do with that black liquid Urshak forced down their throats.
SLG ~ oh I just had a few people telling me that particular chapter was confusing. I think because for the first half of the chapter I made it seem as though the three royals were dead, and then halfway down it came out that they were, in fact, alive. That's what made it confusing.
LITTLE WITCH ~ lol. They ought to put spell check on the review thingy.
MOONMIST ~ ooh, happy birthday then! Which fic? You mean Déjà vu? Um, actually I'm thinking about deleting that one. I really, really hate it.
NIKKIFIER ~ glued to the computer? Sounds painful indeed!
JUKIA WOLFCALL ~ heh. *Joins in the dance* blood thirty child, lol. If you want wars, go read Déjà vu. That has a war in, although I deeply regret writing it.
ICED1 ~ I never really thought about it, but yes he is quite spunky isn't he? I hope you get over the muse problem soon.
BEC ~ you really think this story line is intricate? I didn't think so. Not really. I suppose though, intricate is all a matter of opinion.
LADY LARVLE OF MIRKWOOD ~ other authors? You really think I'm going to let any authors I don't know find that warren? Lol. Not likely! Yes, Urshak lied. He is an orc.
TAMARA ~ don't worry, they've escaped.
COOLIO02 ~ why thank you!
IMBEFANIEL ~ Awww, you poor thing! Nobody to comfort you at all? Have an extra contort cookie! And lots and lots of hugs from my muses and me.
SARAH / MELODY ~ thanks for the plot bunny, but you keep him. I already have the whole fic worked out. Lady Larvle of Mirkwood and I also know where to find a nice big warren full of plot bunnies.
ORODRUIN ~ well it wasn't much of a plan, as you can see. More "run like heck for the exit and kill as many as you can on the way!" type plan. Then again, simple often works best. The keys, in the end, were used to keep the princes locked IN until they wanted to escape. Ah, the irony.
PIRATE-CHICHA ~ glad we got that sorted out. =)
GILRAEN3 ~ thanks very much!
ELFAER GILIELL ~ I've updated! Obviously . . .