Disclaimer: Tolkien. Tolkien. Tolkien. Not mine.
Author's Notes:
I am so frustrated! *sniffs quietly* The internet was down yesterday, so it wasn't my fault that I stuffed up my record of daily updates! I wanted to post this chapter up so bad! I couldn't stop thinking about it! Thank you my faithful readers, especially to those that review! I promise to update daily, where possible! Blame my ISP, otherwise I WOULD have gotten this chapter posted...*huffs angrily* I finally go it fixed cos I was going crazy!
Everyone: Elrond is here…review please!
MidnightPrincess, Lolly pop3, twinlady and anyone else I have missed: Thanks for adding me to your favourites!
Feanen: I haven't missed you from the list above. I just wanted to thank you individually for adding me to your favourites and for reviewing often. I appreciate it.
Starlit Hope: Good guess…its might happen who knows…I only write a chapter a day, it might come…it just might…
Elrond comes! …Legolas' thoughts are in italics.
An extremely irritable Ruthiun woke Legolas up at the crack of dawn. Legolas had barely slept that night. Herendil had gone to saddle up the horses. Ruthiun shook Legolas, sending sparks of pain up his still broken ribs.
My back hurts. Everything hurts. Legolas winced but said nothing. He started to run beside Herendil's horse. I feel tired. I haven't eaten yet.
The company spend the next two days repeating the schedules of the day before. They rarely stopped to eat, if at all. Breaks became less and less often. Herendil was worried about Legolas' condition. He had been unable to change his bandages under the watchful eye of Ruthiun. Herendil could see that Legolas was tiring rapidly. The prince's condition was deteriorating each day. He didn't blame him; Legolas had been running for three or four days now.
Legolas' tunic was torn and dirty. The soles of his feet were cut by the sharp stones on the road, leaving a trail of blood behind. I don't care anymore. I just want to rest. Legolas' breathing was rapid and uneven. He was very tired. He barely got any rest and he had to take watch last night. He could barely stay awake. Ruthiun was very angry but he did not complain yet, because they were making good time. Although it was obvious that he was only just controlling his temper. Ruthiun's displeasure simmered beneath his mask.
Herendil shifted uncomfortable on his saddle. He still had the feeling of being watched or worse – followed. The suspicious instinct built up over the years had not been worn down. The hairs on the back of his neck stood straight as he felt eyes watching him. He could not place who or why but he knew that something was wrong. Ruthiun, one of the most skilled hunters in the realm, had not been able to get ANY game for them. Herendil knew that this frustrated Ruthiun, he had to warn Legolas to be careful around him. Ruthiun was very proud of his hunting skills, it hurt his pride to not be able to show-off in front of a lowly slave, in the guard's narrow opinion.
It was midday. The road here was exposed and dusty. The hot sun scorched down on the three elves making them hot and sweaty. Legolas was nearly blinded by the sun's glare, but he could not raise his arms to shade his eyes. If only my hands weren't bound. If only I could…Legolas' thoughts wandered and he tripped on the road. He was too tired to get up and the rope attaching him to the grey mare dragged him down the road.
Herendil stopped but did not dismount. He gave Legolas a concerned look but then readjusted his mask.
Legolas was dazed from the heat. He could barely feel the grazes along his legs and arms, which would have been less severe, if he had leggings on. If only…
Ruthiun dismounted his horse in annoyance and he jerked Legolas up. He pulled his arm back and slapped Legolas hard. "Dumb slave! Can't you run? Do you have to hold us up in this blasted heat? For this you won't get any lunch!"
Legolas reeled and apologised. Ruthiun ignored it and mounted his horse again. But I wouldn't have gotten lunch anyway. I didn't get any meals at all. Legolas thought as he was roughly jerked along. He almost tripped again.
Legolas continued down the road, occasionally tripping. He was dragged along but the rope but the two riders did not stop. He picked himself up and started to run, only to fall behind and trip over. Again and again.
About two hours later, Legolas collapsed on the ground. I can't go any further. I'm too tired. He didn't care if he was dragged along. His feet were too cut to walk. It hurts too much and its too hot. Legolas was dehydrated.
Herendil got off the horse. Until now he had said nothing. Ruthiun stopped but did not dismount. His eyes shot daggers at Legolas on the ground as he looked intently at how the sub-supervisor would treat the slave.
Herendil carefully threw Legolas over his shoulder and said in the most offhand way possible, "The servant is holding us back. We'll never get there at this rate. Let's go." He dumped the young elfling in his lap, holding him in place with as much tenderness as he could without being suspicious.
Legolas squeezed Herendil's hand in appreciation; he was too parched to speak. He leaned against Herendil and rested until the next stop.
It was now late afternoon. Ruthiun's patience was fraying. He was in a hurry to reach Imladris. Herendil could not see why but he suspected that Ruthiun felt threatened by the journey. He would not have missed the warning signs of danger, Herendil thought.
As they stopped, Herendil felt weariness settle on him. Unknowingly he let Legolas slip and the smaller elf fell on the grass that lined the edges of the road. The soft grass cushioned his fall but he was jerked awake by the new pain in his arm.
Herendil was horrified. He could seem that Legolas had dislocated his shoulder, he hid his fear by saying, "You son of an orc! Can't you even hold on like an elf?" Herendil winced inside at his own insults.
Ruthiun snapped. He was a volcano erupting. He gave Legolas no chance to respond. Recklessly, Ruthiun seized Legolas and started kicking him with his heavy boots. Legolas was in too much pain to respond. Ruthiun cursed loudly, his voice travelling through the trees. With a loud yell of frustration, he picked Legolas up and three him against a tree. Legolas landed with a sickening thump, leaving his blood onto the smooth bark as he slid down.
Herendil tried to keep his composure calm. He had to interfere this time. Ruthiun would kill Legolas at this rate. Ruthiun was out of his mind, he was too angry to comprehend his power. Before Herendil could reach Legolas, a large troop of orcs approached. Herendil gulped anxiously, and he was never nervous. He knew that they were outnumbered.
Ruthiun spun around in a frenzied rage, taking out a dozen orcs. He killed anyone in sight. Herendil stayed out of his way for his own safety, instead he stealthily scampered up the tree Legolas was next to. He wanted to keep an eye on Legolas. The orcs left Legolas alone as they thought that he was dead, this provided Herendil with cover. From his position, Herendil could see that Legolas was only slightly breathing and his eyes were closed. That was not a good sign, it meant that he was in a lot of pain. He had to squint even with his elven sight.
He let loose several arrows in rapid succession. The grunts let him know that the arrows had hit their target. Herendil fought for some time, hidden by the dense foliage of the tree.
Below him, Legolas groaned softly and opened his eyes. He blinked to clear his vision. I am in so much pain. He could see Ruthiun swinging his large sword, his enemies dropping at his feet. Arrows were flying out of nowhere, seemingly from somewhere above him. The smart elfling tried to twist his head to see who was the archer but a searing pain in his arm and back told him to stay still. He could feel the blood soaking his back. The cuts must have been reopened when Ruthiun threw me against the tree. Legolas grimaced, it would hurt a lot to clean them. They are probably infected too. Legolas hated to watch a battle and do nothing. He could only watch as the orcs fell around him.
Suddenly a cry of pain caught Legolas' attention. All action seemed to stop and play in slow motion. He pushed himself up, ignoring the pain wracking his body. What he saw made him shudder.
Ruthiun was kneeling on the ground with an orc's sword pieced through his shoulder. The orc laughed evilly and pulled it out. Ruthiun only grunted but Legolas knew that he would never voluntarily show pain. It must hurt a great deal. The blood dripped from the sword. The orc plunged it into Ruthiun's exposed back, smiling as he heard the cry of pain escape the guard's reluctant lips. The orc twisted the sword and pulled Ruthiun's head up.
"I will let you end in peace if you tell me who is the Prince of Mirkwood."
"There is no prince." Ruthiun sneered. The orc laughed and decapitated him.
Legolas fought the bile that rose in his throat. Even in death, he hated me. Legolas thought. He leaned over slightly to throw up and found himself being held at knifepoint.
"Now, little one don't be afraid," the orc whispered in Legolas' ear as his putrid breath washed over him. The orcs cheered.
"Game's over. Come out, silent archer or we will kill your friend here." The orc inched the knife closer and let it cut Legolas a little, as if to prove his point. Legolas struggled futilely, he could not use his hands.
"Fine. Come out before I count to three. One, Two, Th-" The orc was losing his tolerance.
"I'm here." Herendil surrendered.
"Maybe you are smart after all but not smart enough." The leader of the orcs unexpectedly three a knife at Legolas chest, however, Herendil had anticipated that they would probably want to silence him. He threw himself in front of Legolas and the knife was embedded deep into his stomach.
Legolas was too shocked to move. No! NO! He screamed silently. Herendil!
The orc laughed and said, "Foolish move." He turned towards Legolas…
….and was struck by an arrow. He fell forwards dead. Then chaos ensued.
The orcs turned towards the new enemy. Legolas was forgotten. Elrond, his sons and a group of trained warriors were mounted. They fought and fought until no orcs were left alive. The entire clearing near the road was stained with the black blood of orcs. The warriors and Elrond quickly hurried towards the two strange elves… he hoped that he could save them, if he wasn't too late…
Cliffhanger! Want to find out what happens next? Review!