@Lisseyelan aka Lady V : I guess you're right. That must be the reason of my writer's block. Publish? Wow! It's what I dream to do and I hope it will happen soon! I know you're young but your opinion still counts. That is important. Now go and finish your sister's report! (I've been doing that for my sister when I was your age! LOL!)
@Lucy : Manhead?! I like that word! Ha! Ha!
@Twinlakesghrl : Estel and Leggy will talk about it. But it won't be pretty. Why? You'll see.
@Hp-Azn : Yes, my loyal subject. I command you to read this new chapter!
@Alkvingiel : The conversation between your 2 guys also cracked me up!
@Fire Breathing Ferret : Ah…I'm not sure about that. Would he?
@Aranel of Mirkwood : Will they make up? For the time being…err...nope!
@Brazgirl : The lemonade helps! It does! It truly does! I'm not so sick anymore!
@Ryoko Lasgalen : You are actually waiting for strike 3? Hee! Hee! Don't worry. Aragorn will fully wake up pretty soon.
@szhismine : I'm thinking of letting Nara know about Eowyn. Ha! Leggy will be in very deep sh*t! Those 'why's' you gave me are reasonable, but not concrete enough to deter a crazy author from throwing the readers into every direction! Muahahaha! And, okay, I got your hints! Down, girl. Down.
@feanen : I'm doing that story right now. The title is 'Trying To Fly'. One of the readers had suggested the title to me. I'll put it on after I finish with this one. Wait n see!
@bumper : Don't worry. 'Poor Legolas' is only at the beginning. The tune will change after 3 more chapters.
@Young Storyteller : Hey, I like that song! When somebody I waited was being so late, I would sing that song in his or her face! LOL! Oh, actually, I'm not going to make Leggy bleed. But he is going to be in pain still. You're dead happy, eh? Congrats for passing your exam!
@Gerri : I can't tell you that! You have to wait. Ha! Ha!
@Karina : Leggy didn't know of the men coming to him for aid because…Sorry. I'm not going to tell you now. There's a story behind that. Yep. A conspiracy. You'll know later on. Oh, Leggy had kissed Eowyn in 'Tortured Soul'. I'm not sure how long this story will be. Maybe 13 to 14 chapters? No, time is not moving fast. It's so slow! December 18th is still too far away! Wait a minute! You took 'Taxation Exam'? Yee, god! That's the worst subject I've ever taken. Err…good luck to you, mate! You're going to need it. A lot! Trust me, I know.
WARNING : R-Rated scene ahead! Watch out or get out! Don't tell me I didn't warn you! ;)
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The ride back to Ithilien was filled with silence. Legolas was so deep in his own thoughts that his escorts were too intimidated by their lord's sullen mood to strike even small talk or easy conversations among themselves. So on they went at sedated but steady pace, quiet yet alert.
"You still have penchant for mortal maidens, Legolas?"
Legolas winced as he recalled Aragorn's words. Boy, was he jealous! he mused, shaking his head. Where in Arda does Estel get such ideas about me and Arwen? Stupid human!
"My lord!"
Legolas was snapped out of his reverie when one of the elves called out. "What is it?" he snapped, forcing his glare at the elf, making the warrior squirm in discomfort.
"I believe we are being stalked, my lord," the warrior replied. "We've felt the strange presence since we entered the woods."
Legolas cursed himself for his lack of attention. He reined in his mount and grew still, honing his senses into full alert to detect their stalkers. "They are many," he said, his eyes narrowed in displeasure. "They are all around us."
Pulling an arrow from his quiver, Legolas notched it to his bow. "Prepare to take an immediate flight. We might not be able to defeat them all."
The rest of the elven warriors nodded, pulling out their own bows and swords. At Legolas' command, they nudged their mounts and bolted ahead at incredible speed. Almost at once, a rain of shooting arrows descended upon them, followed by cries of war from their attackers.
The elves veered left and right to avoid the deadly missiles. Two of them fell of their horses when they were struck, while one of them slumped over his mount after he was hit in the neck. An arrow caught Legolas' stallion in the flank, causing the animal to neigh in pain as it stumbled to the ground. Legolas managed to jump clear before he got crushed over, landing nimbly on his feet. He was already shooting back at their enemy in rapid succession.
The other elves had turned around to help their lord and fallen comrades. They were also shooting at the group of men that were emerging from behind trees and bushes, swinging blades and spears. The men were the Haradrim.
Inevitably, the elves and the Haradrim clashed blades—seven against fifty of them. It was not nice odds for Legolas and his troop, but they had no other choice except to fight for their lives to the end.
His arrows already spent, Legolas pulled out his twin daggers and brandished them dangerously about. Three men were dead at his feet a short while later under his fast slashes. He barely acknowledged them before turning to his other adversaries.
The battle was wild and fierce. Birds flew away from the scene, scared by the gruesome sound of blades clashing and cries of pain. It took a long while later for Legolas to realize that he was the only elf standing in the melee. The rest of his escorts were either badly hurt or already dead. Legolas grew desperate and his work with his blades grew fiercer. More than ten men had died under his daggers and he was facing twenty more of them. For some reason, the Haradrim were keeping him alive and merely toying with him, tiring him out until he collapsed. But Legolas would not easily permit that.
Unfortunately, he was no match against all of them. A vicious blow to the back of his head threw him to the ground. He struggled to get back to his feet but they immediately smothered him, holding him down. Legolas growled in anger. He had lost.
As he lay there on his back, chest heaving and eyes flashing, one of the Haradrim stepped forward and smirked down at the restrained elf. "Well, well. We finally got you, master elf."
"Not for long!" Legolas spat and struggled anew. The men around him just laughed at his vain effort.
"Is he the one, master Lors?" One of them asked the first that had spoken.
Lors knelt down and fingered Legolas' hair before tipping up the prince's chin. "Yes. He's the one. Same golden hair, same fair face, same fiery temper," muttered Lors in reply. He smiled crookedly at the elf. "Lord Legolas, I gather? From Ithilien keep?"
"Who wants to know?!" Legolas snapped back.
The Man chuckled. "I'm Lors, leader of the Turbin clan of Harad. Don't take this personally, Lord Legolas. We have no direct conflict with you. It's the king of Gondor that we are trying to warn."
"Warn him about what?"
Lors' smile had become a sneer. "He needs to know that the Haradrim will not stop until Gondor falls into our hands. We will keep on plundering and stealing and killing and destroying until we get what we want! And you are going to give our message to him!"
"What made you think he doesn't know that already? Your attack on Colomar and other villages before this has clearly told him your intention!"
"We know that, master elf. But we believe the warning will be more…effective coming from you, considering how close you are to him."
"Oh, really? You are going to release me, then?" Legolas asked, knowing that there was a certain catch in the whole situation, which he was clearly not going to like.
Lors grinned when he saw the flicker of fear in the prince's eyes. "You are smart, aren't you? That's right. We will release you…but not before we are done with you first!" The man turned around and barked. "String him up!"
The Haradrim dragged the elf under a big tree. They bound his wrists together and flung the end of the coarse rope over a branch, jerking it back down until Legolas's feet barely touched the ground. Hanging there with his arms stretched painfully above his head, Legolas never stopped struggling. He even managed to knock three of the men down with strong kicks and rendering one of them unconscious. But this only amused the Haradrim more.
The men grabbed another coil of rope and tied Legolas' feet to two stakes they hastily made on the ground. As Legolas stood glaring at them, completely immobile, the Haradrim laughed and jeered at his predicament, taunting him mercilessly.
Lors came over, smiling wryly. "You are one wildcat, you know that? I'm sure the king values you so much."
"For the time being, I'm not really sure," Legolas replied through gritted teeth. Already he was feeling the agonizing strain on both his arms and legs.
Lors frowned at the elf's choice of words but didn't comment. At his signal, two men took out their daggers and began sawing at Legolas' clothes.
No! This can't be happening! Legolas screamed wildly inside as horrible images of his terrible past came rushing back into his mind. Not again! Once is despicable enough, let alone twice! Please, this can't be happening again!
Seeing the glint of panic in Legolas' eyes, Lors laughed out loud. "Hmm. I can see that you are scared. Had someone 'touched' you before, master elf?"
The man got his answer from Legolas' defiant silence. He smiled reassuringly. "Not to worry, Lord Legolas. We won't go that low. You are our messenger, not a plaything. We want to get our job done, so we do not want you to go kill yourself after such an unnecessary sport. No, that won't do at all."
The men whistled and hooted with laughter when the elf's clothes were completely stripped off him.
"Ooh, nice!" someone cried out.
"He's a beauty, ain't he?" one man nudged his friend beside him, grinning.
"Not my type, he ain't! He's way too pale!" this came from a tall bearded man, eliciting more laughter from the group. As he flushed deep red in humiliation and fury, Legolas still held his head high, glowering back at the lot.
"You are no coward, though, I give you that," Lors commented admiringly. "But can you bear pain, I wonder?"
"It's ready, master Lors," one man suddenly emerged from behind the crowd, carrying a steel poker that was burning at its tip. Legolas blanched, instantly knowing what they intended to do to him.
Lors smiled apologetically. "This will hurt, I'm afraid. But it won't take long. I'll make the message short and precise." He nodded at the man holding the poker. The man moved behind Legolas and waited expectantly.
"Good. Let's proceed then," Lors said. "Here's what I want to say…"
As the man recited the words, the poker fell onto the skin of Legolas's back, burning and scalding.
Legolas couldn't help it. He screamed.
TBC….