Color of Distress
Disclaimer – I have run out of original idea as to what I should write here. Lord of the Rings belongs solely to Tolkien, and is not mine in any imaginable way. None whatsoever, unless I marry into the family and inherit the rights to it or something.
Chapter 16 – I will remain where I am
Legolas was thankful for Arod. The animal sensed his fear and pain, and showered affection upon the elf, which he accepted with deep gratitude, and felt that he must love the horse as well.
He scrunched his nose as a horrible stench greeted them as they approached the orc pile. Legolas leapt off the horse, leaving Gimli to slide off Arod clumsily. In any other circumstances, he would have helped Gimli down, but the sight that faced him was overwhelming.
Aragorn joined him, looking grimly at the orc pile. "We'd better start looking for them." He said with a look of deep disgust. He pushed a body aside with his boot, then threw himself down on his knees, uncaring of the stench. Aragorn began searching almost manically, shoving the carcasses aside in a great fury.
Gimli walked painfully over, minding his sore thighs from the ride. He took his axe and began shifting through the pile steadily, knocking aside shoddy pieces of orc amour away with ease. Legolas circled the heap, and decided not to care about the smell, tossed the bodies aside.
The sight of a blacked arrow raised bile in his throat; and he had to turn away for a moment as images of Boromir dying flooded his mind.
Boromir, who must have been protecting Merry and Pippin
And I, who could have been protecting Boromir.
Legolas turned back and dug through the pile with renewed fervor, although he knew not what he wanted to find. If they found their bodies, then they were dead, and only five members of the fellowship would remain. If they did not find their bodies, then perhaps the hobbits were still alive, but in possibly worse conditions.
These thoughts ran through the mind of the three while they worked the afternoon away. And inevitably, the sun began to sink below the horizon, leaving them little light to work by. All that remained of the tall pile were scattered ashes, pieces of armor, orc remains, and different crude weapons. There were no signs of Merry and Pippin at all.
Gimli threw his axe down. "It's no use. They aren't here."
"Then I only hope they are safe." Aragorn said, looking out at the spread pile.
"And I hope they are yet alive." Legolas added quietly.
"We will search the forest tomorrow." Aragorn said, placing a hand on Gimli's shoulder and the other on Legolas' arm. "I think we should rest for now.
They made camp under a large brown tree that stood slight away from the forest, yet it seemed to be still part a of Fangorn. Night had fallen and there was still no fire, but Gimli was adamant about having one, and argued for it as he shivered from the biting wind.
"On the other side of this overgrown maze is Isengard." Gimli said stubbornly. "There could be any monstrous beast just waiting for us, but a fire could help keep them away."
"Just as easily as the fire could lead a beast to us." Aragorn said, and drew his cloak around him.
"We could catch something to eat and cook it…" Gimli said shamelessly, and ran his thumb over the blade of his axe. "All we would need is a bit of wood."
Aragorn shrugged, too weary to be in the mood to quarrel over a fire. "If you want it that badly, then go ahead." He said, sitting hunched over.
Legolas put an arm out to caution Gimli. "Cut no living wood." He warned, and the way he held an aura of knowledge and wisdom was enough to make Gimli listen. He bustled off, searching the ground for deadfall.
In truth, Legolas was merely listening to the trees murmur to each other, and they spoke reminiscently about the how the used to be a part of Eriador in the long past. They now rumbled angrily about the new destruction that was taking place in the southwest, and there was a undercurrent of worry and wariness at the three newcomers, followed by a sigh of relief when Gimli emerged with an armload of deadfall.
Gimli fixed the fire by himself and sat by it in satisfaction. Aragorn was nodding off into sleep while Legolas stood, watching over them like he did in the previous nights.
"This is quite unfair." Gimli said suddenly, standing up. Aragorn lurched awake, staring at the fire drowsily, while Legolas took a small step closer.
"What are you talking about?" Aragorn asked, rubbing his eyes.
"Well, the way that Legolas is always guarding us while we sleep." Gimli snapped his fingers, coming upon a reasonable thought. " I say we do this in shifts, so Legolas can get some sleep as well."
There was nothing more he wanted at the moment, but Legolas was afraid to sleep, so he numbly shook his head. "It is fine."
"Don't be daft. I'll take the first shift, and you will get some sleep." Gimli said, and marched out a few paces, standing erect with his axe held out in front of him.
Legolas remained standing, fighting the impulse to run and make Gimli rest instead. But he eventually lay down on the grass stiffly, and eventually let sleep wash over him.
Whenever Gimli turned around to check on Legolas, the elf's blue eyes reflected the fire and made them seem red instead. He still was not used to how elves slept with their eyes open, and wondered if Legolas was truly asleep.
He was not.
Legolas blinked slowly, like a cat, and returned to staring into the fire.
I say, do you actually feel sorry for those orcs you dug through? Pity is a strange thing, and it seems that it makes one more merciful.
The voice chattered on to him, nearly friendly if there was not the undercurrent of malice. Legolas knew what it was doing. It was asserting itself as the master, with the right to say whatever it pleased, whenever it pleased, and tried to be friendly to cajole Legolas into submission. Legolas made no move to prevent its talk, although he tried his hardest to ignore it.
He did not know if the voice could tell, but Legolas was at his breaking point. He didn't want to struggle against it anymore, and obedience would come as a welcome relief. The mix of tension, sorrow, and fear he felt made life for him miserable. The support of his friends was no longer enough. They too had their worries and troubles, Aragorn worst of all. The only thing keeping him from giving in was Galadriel's parting words, and even they seemed to be losing their meaning.
Would pity stay your hand from shooting someone? Could you look into a living creature eyes, no matter how deformed and hated, and give them their life?
Leave me.
Well, there you have it. You are showing me no pity by trying to get rid of me. Wherever will I go?
I don't care. Anywhere but within me.
Could I then go to Aragorn? Or perhaps Gimli?
Legolas eyes burned with tears that he would not shed. To see what was happening to him come to pass in his friends would be like watching how he himself fell apart. You will not touch them.
Then I will remain where I am. Tell your friends that I have returned, and I will kill them.
You have no physical form. You can barely move a leaf, let alone hold a weapon.
It laughed hysterically, and began sneering. I do hold a leaf, Prince Greenleaf. It laughed again at it's own sadistic joke. As for a weapon... although I cannot hold one, you can.
It did not work before. They would kill me first.
Then we'll see who will be the first to die.
Legolas had not the heart to continue fighting. He had no use for the same threat being repeated to him over and over again. Resigning himself to nightmares, he allowed himself to slip into slumber.
Tiro nin!
Legolas took a wavering step towards the fire, but there was something wrong with his eyes. He saw only in patches, while the rest was blacked out completely. For a moment, he could not see entirely, and his vision suddenly returned in an instant. He had no perception whatsoever at this point.
"I have been very patient with you." Legolas threw his hand over his mouth, struggling to keep these foreign words that were not his own from pouring through his lips. "Let us play a simple game. Who are you?"
"Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of the Mirkwood Realm, son of Thranduil, friend to Aragorn and Gimli, protected by Galadriel!" He cried. That much he knew, being reinforced by his friends so many times. For a brief moment he had the satisfaction of knowing that the voice could not take his identity no matter what else it tried.
"So you are." Legolas bit down on his lower lip to prevent it from speaking again through him, but only succeeded in drawing blood. "And what are you?"
Here Legolas was less sure, but answered anyway. "I am an elf, of noble silvan descent. My grandfather fought at the War of the Last Alliance."
"And died miserably and foolishly."
Here Legolas felt indignant rage, and would have attacked the voice directly if it did not interrupt him.
"Tell me about elves. You must be quite knowledgeable, being one among them."
Legolas strove to remember all he had been taught about his kind when he was a child, and recited his history as if he was being quizzed by a tutor, calming down slightly. "We are the Elder Children of Iluvatar, the Firstborn, the Eldar. The first of our kind were awakened even before the Rising of the Sun and Moon, and we are not subject to illness and death." He proceeded to tell in detail the defeat of Melkor and the great journey, and how some elves decided to remain on Middle Earth.
"Well, tonight, you will forget all you have just said."
"I will not."
"I believe that all elves are too full of pride about their lineage and superiority. What if you were created an orc? Would you hold such pride then?" The voice was full of resentment and every word it spoke was a vicious attack.
And Legolas suddenly realized that every word was literally an attack. With every word, there was a sharp prickling sensation on his back. He slid his hand into his shirt, and when he looked at his fingers, they were stained with blood.
"Stop it! Stop it!" he shouted, but if Aragorn or Gimli had been awake, they would have only seen his lips moving soundlessly. "You cannot do this!"
"Will you forget?"
"No!"
"It is easy to forget everything…you have forgotten much of what I had taught you in Lothlorien. Perhaps you would like another lesson to refresh your faulty memory?"
Legolas shivered so violently he felt like his bones were being jolted out of his skin. "No! No! No!" he cried in terror. "I like it not!" He half stumbled, half ran away from the fire, chased by a foe that was found within himself.
He came upon a small stream not far from the fire, and wildly took his shirt off. Legolas threw himself into the water, his teeth chattering, and began washing the blood off his back in a frenzy.
"Oh, you are amusing." The voice said, and that was it. No more was spoken.
Legolas remained in the water for a long time, shaking from fright and cold until he finally climbed out of the water and retrieved his shirt, while his heart pounded madly within him. As soon as he was dry, he dressed and moved slowly back to the campfire. He tentatively felt his back, and it stung sharply in return. The little hope he had fled. Legolas had nearly convinced himself it was a lie, that the voice could not inflict bodily harm to him, yet there was now proof of it.
Legolas did not realize that he had in fact won himself a small victory in trying to run from the voice. It showed that he still had the willpower to free himself, but merely lacked the belief in himself to do it.
He stood still for several hours until dawn arrived. And with the arrival a dawn came the voice's unwelcome return.
"Good morning." It said merrily.
Legolas did not reply, and merely felt for his arrows. He could not endure it anymore, and if he had to stab himself to be free, he vowed that he would.
It sensed his intent, however, and snarled at Legolas. "Wake your dear friend up."
Legolas felt and saw his left hand reaching for his bow, and his arms working in their usual way to fit the arrow in the bow instead of plunging the sharp tip into his own chest. His arm lifted and took aim without his control, and drew the string taut.
He uttered a soft cry as he wrenched his arms aside and shot the ground next to Gimli instead.
And here he gained his second victory, although he did not recognize it. The voice knew this, and decided to take another tactic.
Legolas awoke when something heavy crashed into him, stepped heavily over him, and fell headlong onto the ground.
"Old! Here, man! I say… I saw…white!" Gimli babbled, grabbing at Aragorn's arm and shaking it violently.
Dazed, both from his frantic awakening and the dream, Legolas could not make head nor tail of what Gimli what saying. Aragorn shook his head, trying to keep his eyes open.
"Speak clearly." He said, slightly irritated.
"There!" Gimli pointed across to the fire, where a figure of an old man stood, dressed in white robes. Because they were facing the fire, they saw no details.
Legolas and Aragorn sprang to their feet, although the lines of fatigue were evident on their gaunt faces.
"Old man, come warm yourself by are fire." Legolas called, trying to lure him closer into the light. However, the man did not move.
"Show yourself!" Aragorn barked, drawing his word.
The figure disappeared without a sound.
Gimli blinked furiously. "Was he truly there, or am I hallucinating?"
"He was there." Legolas said, overcome with relief. His first thoughts leapt to the voice being that figure, but if Gimli could see it as well, then it couldn't have been. It was silent at the present moment.
Aragorn gave a shout of anger. "Our horses have been stolen!"
And as if the apparition was making a mockery of them, they heard the horses whinny in the distance.
"Devilry of Saruman." Gimli hissed, glancing about nervously.
"Saruman?" Legolas repeated hollowly. "Why did he only steal our horses and not kill us? I wager he could have finished us all with one spell."
"I think it is not him." Aragorn stated. "For the reason you have just said, Legolas."
Gimli gripped his axe tightly. "I think we should still have guard shifts the rest of the night." He said, still casting tense glances around the camp.
Legolas shrugged. It mattered not to him. He would not go to sleep again and returned to his haunted dreams. He would have welcomed Saruman if it meant liberation from the voice. He was worn, empty, and could not find any emotion strong enough to make he care about anything.
"I will keep watch for the rest of the night." Legolas said.
Aragorn noticed his brittle voice and pale face, and put an arm out to him. "No, I will. You shall rest."
"I am set on guarding for the rest of the night, and if you would like to sit awake with me as well instead of sleeping, I have no qualms." Legolas said firmly.
Aragorn threw up his arms; having lost what little patience he had left, and lay down with a dark face.
Legolas, who reported no sightings of the strange man, awakened them in the morning. They ate Lembas in terse silence, until Gimli broke the stillness.
"What will be done about the horses?" Gimli asked.
"We can do nothing." Aragorn said, looking at the ground.
Legolas found this strange and funny, and found that he smiling in spite of himself. "Why Gimli, I think you might make a rider yet."
"And where are we going? We have found no trace of the hobbits, and have not so much as even a small clue." Gimli said, stuffing his blanket into his pack.
Aragorn stood up and gazed towards the horizon despondently. "I do not know." He said quietly, in a voice full of despair. "I know not what to do, or where to go, or if I should even be making choices for us. I have failed all of you, Merry and Pippin most of all." He kicked some of the garbage from the orc pile aside in frustration.
Legolas took Aragorn's hand and held it tightly. In all his moments of self-doubt and anguish, Aragorn was there to support him. Forgetting his own troubles for the time, he tried to encourage his friend on. Aragorn remained unmoving, staring at the ground while Legolas spoke, until his eyes widened in discovery.
"A piece of a mallorn leaf! There are crumbs of Lembas!" He whispered hoarsely in excitement. Aragorn bent over to pick it up. "And… tiny foot prints…lightly made…" he began following the tracks. "Cut ropes…."
Gimli eagerly followed while Legolas trailed behind, hesitating a little. He did not want to get his hopes up in return for a large letdown.
"Here is the knife that cut the rope!" Gimli called loudly, holding up a dagger with a hideous carving of a demonic face.
Legolas looked at them in exasperation. "What a riddle Merry and Pippin have left us!" he exclaimed. "A hobbit escapes notice from both orcs and the riders while bound, runs several paces before cutting his bonds in open battle! Then feeling hungry, decides to have a bite of Lembas. But wait, here is a greater mystery! How does a fully bound hobbit cut his bonds and run? Well, he does not run! He grows wings and flies away!"
"If I have read the trails correctly…" Aragorn began, gesturing to the ground with his hands. "Either their arms or legs were free, and they were carried to this spot by an orc, then cut himself free." Aragorn stopped and looked at them with a light of hope lit in his eyes. "I think they may have escaped into Fangorn Forest."
"So… are we entering the forest as well?" Gimli asked, rather unwillingly.
"Of course." Aragorn made to enter it, but Legolas put out an arm.
"A word about the forest." Legolas said cautiously. "I know little about this place, but there are songs about the Onodrim, which men call Ents, and they have lived here since long ago, and must be as old as the elves can remember."
"We will be careful." Aragorn promised, and walked into the forest.
Gimli groaned. "I do not know what I dread more…entering Fangorn or traveling through Rohan on foot."
Legolas shut his eyes in exhaustion. "Entering Fangorn would have been a holiday for me if I were not troubled so." The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as the voice hissed at him in warning.
Gimli looked at Legolas in trepidation. "Troubled?"
He opened his eyes and sighed heavily. "I would have enjoyed these woods far more if I did not worry so for the little ones." Legolas said finally, he went in after Aragorn without another word.
To be continued….
I realized that this chapter might have been a bit confusing. The part in the middle that is mostly in italics is Legolas' nightmare as he recalls what happens the night before he shot the arrow to the side of Gimli. And it just moves forwards normally after he's been woken up. I had completely forgotten what my experiment was and why I wasn't filling in that part yet, so I just added it in.
You may or may not have noticed, but this chapter is a couple pages longer than previous ones. Just a little longer, because I had a request for a longer chapter for a birthday present. I was fully prepared to write up six pages instead of the usual three, but I only made five by Wednesday. Oh well. Thanks to all the reviewers – Legolasluver, Lady Anviel Greenleaf, somethingsinthebasement, musicgrl, and Torture-the-elf.
Erhothwen – Let's start a war band and have anyone who wants to join save Legolas from the voice. *grabs a sword and a horse* We're off to save Leggy!
Wandering Ranger – Happy Birthday!!! This chapter wasn't exactly chock full of elf torture, and unfortunately this chapter wasn't as long as I wanted to make it for you. But well, it happens. ^_^ Anyways, have a great birthday!
Reginabean – Okay… so…. Maybe school should only be mandatory up to elementary school so people can still be literate and not suffer from extreme stress and work overload…. oh poo. *grumbles* Okay. School isn't horrible when your not being worked to death. ^_^
Merrylyn – "Every teacher should experience their screams echoing down the halls at least once in their educational career." ROTFLMAO! Okay, here is my story of the day: We once got our French teacher go into a nervous breakdown and she ran out of the class, sobbing and screaming. It was really funny, in a sadistic sort of way. Well, she didn't come back after that day, which makes me wonder what happened to her…. ^_^ Thinking back on it, I kind of feel really bad for her.
Cheysuli – I was thinking about the wax figures when I wrote that. How they're not alive, but they look alive, and how their eyes are so bright without life and intelligence.
Lady-Daine: I am completely boggled. Les Miserables in FRENCH?? Haha… ha ha… funny joke. Thinking about reading it in French is giving me a heart attack. I haven't seen spirited away. I really wanted to, but I never got around to seeing it. I'm going to put it on my list of movies to see….
Soulsearcher-arbariel: Well, you did get to see Celeborn and Elrond and Elrond and Celeborn too… they ARE male elves, right?? Just not the most….um.. . attractive ones. ^_^ As for my workload, it has dropped significantly since last week, although my physics teacher is a slave driver and has proclaimed Thursday s "Quiz days."
Dreamkeeper: Well, I'm still unconscious. I'm not normally one to faint… but heck. Do you know I squealed like mad when I read what you wrote????? As for what I'm doing to Leggy, we've had a nice long discussion….
I'm thinking of taking the next week off writing because of Easter, but I won't if anyone has any objections to it. So just let me know, either through e-mail or the review panel. Okay then, until the next chapter!