Woo, I actually finished on time (I'd only written 300 words by this morning) and managed to watch a rugby semi-final, two football play-offs and pop idol. I'm so proud of myself I might do a dance, but hell, I'm tired now and considering I have to get up at 6:00am, I think preservation of energy is a better bet. Mmm… in 24 hours David Beckham will be locked in my cupboard. Mwahahahahahaha. Either that, or I'll be sitting sheepishly in a prison cell (they actually have them at Old Trafford – snazzy!) Oh, and look out for me on Thursday, as I'll probably be getting shot by Bush's henchmen because a) they're gun-toting twats under the orders of the unelected president of the United States to shoot to kill any possible terror threats, and b) I have a big mouth that'll simply offend them and so they'll shoot me as they're gun-toting…see above. I'll be the one on the ground with a hole in the head with a random Arab girl standing over me screaming 'I'll shoot you with my rifle.' in a dodgy Texan accent. What fun!
Chapter Fifteen: The Turn of the Tide?
The Bruinen rumbled along through the mist, the icy water battering against the high bank. It flowed swiftly, but was nowhere near the overwhelming torrent it was further upstream. The riverbank seemed to be as deceptive as this whole land was; it overhung by over a foot, where the water drifted along, sheltered from the sun's gaze.
His teeth chattered. His numb fingers clung to the stony earth above him, steadying his stiff body against the current that swept at his feet. His eyes were closed so tightly it hurt. The water chilled his blood and attacked his limbs but he dared not move. His chest heaved with terrified, panicked breaths, lips trembling. Tears streaked down his cheeks, burning his skin like hot coal. The river rippled against his chin, sometimes flowing over his nose, causing him to choke.
The minutes passed slowly, and Estel began to lose feeling in his toes, but he did not move. He didn't want to move. No one would find him here. He listened intently at each and every sound, though the rush of the water drowned much of it out. Raenir had gone. He had heard him walk away. But still he could not bring himself to emerge.
It could be a trick. He could be anywhere, he thought to himself.
Waiting.
His stomach twisted in a knot. Waiting to finish what Carinyc started. Just thinking about those words made him shudder. But what if he wasn't there? What if he was doing what he had said? What if Raenir was torturing Legolas right now? A pang of guilt stabbed in his stomach. He should have stayed and fought. What if he was already dead?
He had to help him.
But he didn't want to move. He was safe here. He didn't care if he froze to death. Opening his eyes slowly, the bright glare of the surface water hurt his eyes. The sun had risen and banished the stifling mist over the past hour. His whole body ached like never before and he bit his lip, trying desperately to stop his teeth chattering. Pushing his way back into the open, he clung onto the overhanging bank desperately, his frozen fingers struggling to grip onto the flailing reeds. He peered over the edge, eyes darting around for any sign of Raenir. There was no movement in the scattered vegetation and only the lonely twitters of a few birds pierced the muted fields.
Clambering his shaking arms over the side, he tried to pull himself out of the icy clutches of the Bruinen, but his whole body felt like lead and he quickly slipped back in. Gasping, he clung on to the reeds and dug his boots into the river wall. His sopping clothes weighed him down so much he thought his cloak would strangle him and he dug his hands into the soft earth, dragging his exhausted body back onto the long grass.
He lay there, panting, trying to catch his breath again. He had no idea it would be so difficult just to get back onto land and was now drained, soaking and frozen. He could barely feel his legs and he wearily sat up, pulling his waterlogged boots off, letting the water stream from the leather. Rubbing some feeling into his numb feet, Estel sighed uncomfortably as the cold enveloped him and the unwelcome but familiar stabbing sensation attacked his senses. Water dribbled down his nose and he wiped the moisture from his face, switching his attention to his weapons.
Soon, he had wringed out all that he could, but still cut a bedraggled sight; his damp locks tied into a makeshift bun with a reed, his clothes crumpled and dripping, boots still lying upside down on the long straggly grass. Estel shivered as the biting cold continued to cripple his hands, it had been over an hour since he had even felt the tips of his fingers and he was struggling to concentrate his swimming mind.
The slightest brush of a nearby bush caught his attention.
Estel's eyes scanned the silent trees and spotted a shadow lurking in the distance. He felt the panic rise in him again and he scurried to the relative cover of a few withering bushes.
* * *
Raenir stared at the elf with a grim satisfaction and tightened the bonds around his wrists, knowing that Legolas was slowly coming to his senses again as the pain of the way he had been strung up set in. A thick rope wrapped around the branch of a lone tree held the fair being just above kneeling height for maximum discomfort.
The morning sunshine filtered down through the wispy clouds but failed to warm the chilly autumn conditions. Legolas stirred a little, his head pounding from the fall. The human slapped his face to bring him round and his eyes reluctantly opened. He winced, and blinked at the harsh daylight attacking his vision. Struggling to find his bearings, he closed his eyes again.
The dark haired human frowned. "No, no, wake up, elf." He urged melodically, patting his cheeks roughly.
He didn't respond and simply closed his eyes tighter as he tried to slow his spinning head down.
Raenir grunted with frustration and pulled out his whip, cracking it across the elf's lower back. Legolas' eyes flew open at the sudden flash of pain and he hissed involuntarily. The human's smug face came into view and he grimaced.
"What an attractive sight to greet me." He said flatly.
His dark eyes glinted and he laughed humourlessly. "You are in no position to insult me."
Legolas glanced up at his restraints and sighed. "Then release me and I will insult you in a more dignified posture if you wish."
"It is remarkable that you can still laugh after what has happened."
"I am an upbeat sort of fellow; it is one of my many virtues. My capture will not stop me mocking the joke that you are." The elf spat, ignoring the agony of his suspension.
A bemused smirk crept across the man's face. "I am not talking about your inevitable seizure."
Legolas snorted with a sense of annoyance, and eventually met the human's gaze. "Then what do you speak of?"
"Your little friend's death."
He didn't flinch, but a streak of alarm rippled through his veins. His face darkened and his jaw clenched tensely.
"You lie." He replied firmly.
Raenir's smile grew wider. "How can you be sure?"
"Because I am still alive. If you had killed him, then you would have killed me and been on your way. But I am here, staring at your repugnant face and Estel is nowhere to be seen." He explained matter-of-factly, but he wasn't entirely convinced of his argument.
"And you are not angry that he left you to die?"
Relief soothed his aching limbs. "I would have him run all the way home without looking back, than die trying to save me. He knows I can take care of myself."
The craggy human shifted around the elf, and he grabbed his chin violently, forcing him to look up at him. His hand slid up to his cheeks and tightened his grip so that his dirty fingernails sank into Legolas' fair skin and leant in close.
"And you would consider this as taking care of yourself?" He whispered threateningly.
The blond figure did not reply, looking down at the ground with a slight smile. His head still pounded and his body ached terribly, but in his heart he knew Estel was still alive and that helped numb the pain and kept his spirits high.
"Tell me," He began, raising his head once more. "Why is a wounded man hunting for your target and the fittest one guarding me? Are you so useless that you cannot track and kill a scared, not to mention wounded, child?"
He scowled and looked away, his greasy locks ruffling in the strengthening breeze.
"And why exactly were you and your two late companions even drafted for this task? You have done nothing but aid our survival. Frankly, I should thank, rather than hate you."
Raenir glowered and spun around. "Speak again and beat you until you scream for mercy."
Legolas laughed and incensed the human further. With a swift motion, his whip crackled through the air and slapped against the elf's stomach viciously. He didn't blink, though the searing flash of agony almost took his breath away. He looked up at him, eyes expressionless. He growled and wrapped the leather cord across his shoulder blades, and again across the back of his neck. His long blonde hair flew across his face and impeded his view.
Another strike.
Legolas made no sound, simply easing his mind away from reality. He breathed calmly and closed his eyes. The ebony haired man grew angrier as each blow was met with no reaction. He paused, catching his breath from his relentless brutality, and glanced down at the elf's legs trailing behind his suspended body. Raenir stamped as hard as he could on the back of his calves, wrenching his body down but the rope allowed no leeway and so strained his arms even more. He winced, but still remained silent.
Stalking around him, he stopped and stood in front of the composed being. His irate glare deepened and kicked Legolas in the stomach.
Again.
Again.
The elf coughed painfully but stopped himself from crying out, trying to catch his breath again. The human glowered and struck him across the face.
Legolas snickered.
Lifting his weary gaze, he smirked at the furious human.
"You can't break me." He announced, his voice strained from the blows to his stomach.
Raenir clenched his jaw, his chest heaving.
"I'm not afraid of you, Raenir."
"You should be." He growled.
The fair creature raised an eyebrow. "You have given me no reason to be."
He clenched his fist; the cocky attitude of Legolas had taken him by surprise and was infuriating him. He glanced around his surroundings, looking out for any sign of his companion returning.
"No sign of your better half?" He taunted.
"Shut your mouth, you filthy little animal." Raenir snarled.
"He's probably dead…"
Legolas grinned, watching the human running his fingers through his messy hair, sensing how edgy he was becoming.
"Estel is an excellent swordsman, he'll catch your friend off guard and kill him."
"Be silent or I'll slit your throat."
"Do you know what? I can feel my kin drawing closer. Just think, the whole of Rivendell empty, all searching for the men who abducted Lord Elrond's son. The Dúnedain out in force to save their future Chieftain." Legolas stifled his laughter deliberately vociferously. "I fear for you. We are not a people to forgive easily, nor treat prisoners with an ounce of compassion."
* * *
His black boots slowly padded the ground, the soles grazing the ragged, unkempt strands of weed-ridden grass. He paused, noticing the abandoned pair of shoes at the riverside and shifted his gaze around the overgrown vegetation. Donvan stalked over to the bank and knelt beside them, picking the smaller boots up by the laces and tossing them away. His fingers traced the soft waterlogged ground and a smile crept across his face.
"Impressive." He mused. "You have the art of eluding your attackers down to a tee, young Estel."
He leant over the edge and checked the vacant space beneath the overhang.
"And smart enough to know when to move on."
Climbing to his feet he turned away from the crashing torrent and scanned the land. Taking a few steps forward, his eyes narrowed. He could hear the sound of crunching leaves to the left. Slowly, he moved into the patchy woodland, the gentle chorus of the birds and rasping of the crickets making it hard to listen out for any more of Estel's movements.
A branch snapped behind him and he spun around, his eyes straining to spot him. Edging forward, he drew his sword. Donvan frowned, and pushed aside a wiry shrub. The loud screech of a crow made him jump but he quickly regained his composure.
His gaze trailed around the vacant trees, the dappled sunlight squeezing through the golden leaves that still remained in a few of the trees. The wind whispered amongst the skeletal branches, whistling and hissing around the lone human.
Estel watched him silently, his heart beating hard. He was shivering uncontrollably; water from his bound hair still dribbled uncomfortably down his face. He hadn't counted on Donvan tracking him, but certainly preferred to tackle the two men separately. His hands throbbed painfully as feeling slowly returned to them, but it hurt too much to grip the fishing knife he now used as a sword and so had wrapped another thing he had to carry around his wrist rather than holding it. The young human's teeth rattled and his damp clothes were really beginning to irritate his skin, and he struggled to stop himself scratching.
The wet clothes clung to his sore legs, aggravating the cuts and grating against the agonizing bruises that littered the lower half his body. He shifted awkwardly, wincing and letting out a gentle gasp. He froze and glanced over at the assassin.
He was staring right at him.
Donvan gazed intently at the fallen log, eyes narrowing and a grim smile creeping across his face. He pulled out his bow and prepared an arrow, feet crunching against the tiny twigs as he ambled toward the hiding child. Estel suddenly burst out, scurrying away, darting past a few young saplings. He watched him, studying his path as he aimed.
Shift to the left.
Duck to the right.
Take aim.
Fire.
The missile rippled past the branches, its path straight at the sprinting human. He leapt to the ground at the last second and the arrow whistled harmlessly over Estel.
He rolled along the uneven ground, the lumps and bumps digging into his injured body agonizingly. Stumbling back to his feet, Estel tore deeper into the woods, the trees becoming denser and providing more cover. Another arrow fizzed too close for comfort and he listened as Donvan chased him, the broad man's boots thumping against the forest floor. Estel cursed his lapse and brushed under the low branches of a willow. He padded along the damp ground, and he tried desperately to ignore the searing pain of his semi-numb feet as they stepped on fallen twigs and jagged stones. He was faster than Donvan and lighter on his toes. He knew that. Scampering swiftly to a shadier glade, he found some respite under the cover a sprawling mound of reeds and rocks and tried to compose himself.
The older human slowed down, bow clasped tightly in his hand, arriving in the small glade thirty seconds or so later. He spun around and his eyes scanned the area. Where was he? This part of the woods was much darker, but not nearly as thick as the last they had been in. A warm orangey glow swathed over the tiny clearing, and he stood in silence, waiting for the slightest movement of his target.
Donvan snapped his head to the right at the lightest sound.
Glancing behind at another rustle, he frowned.
"You cannot escape me, Estel." Donvan said softly.
"I'm not trying to." Came the reply.
He turned, a satisfied grin lighting up his dishevelled bearded face. Stepping to the side, his eyes setting on the toe of Estel's boot.
"And you just gave away your position." He murmured, firing the arrow ruthlessly at it.
It tore through the material and embedded itself but there was no movement.
"How your memory deceives you… didn't you find my discarded boots just a short while ago?"
Donvan spun around to see Estel standing almost twenty feet away, arrow drawn and ready. His face fixed in a stony glare, his silver eyes emotionless.
"I've seen your aim, as if you could hit me from there." He growled and quickly drew his own arrow.
He froze.
His eyes trailed down to his chest and he saw the slim body of the missile sprouting from his chest.
Estel watched as his enemy slumped to the ground, an arrow to the heart claiming his last breath. The young human sighed exhaustedly and lurched toward his still form. Staring down at Donvan, his grey-flecked hair spread across the moss covered ground.
"Maybe I should get everyone to say that before I shoot." He muttered and limped uncomfortably away, not looking back.
TBC…
Alex mistress of excessively furry cat food – Northern hemisphere? Pah. My warships are situated all around Europe with my illegal immigrants and haven't encountered any resistance. Your rodents are lazy. Or blind. Actually, they are in fact squirrels and can't use warheads. Oh, and on the name calling front, I hardly think you're up to it considering your excessive use of the term 'freak'. ;-)
Crystal-chan - *Returns from hospital after being treated for concussion* Err… thanks for the can in the side of the head. I'm glad it hit me and not Estel, because unless courage comes in the form of severe bruising these days, I doubt it would've helped. Hmm… maybe you're the enemy in disguise? *Lets rabid fangirls catch crystal-chan's scent and then lets them off their leashes* Mwahahahaha, its all in the name of shits and giggles!
Arayelle Lynn – Pah. The last chapter was worse than I thought, hopefully this one made up for it. Yeah, I probably would have run away too, actually I would have run right at the beginning, I'm probably not the best person to be with in a tight spot!
Luinthien – Oo-er! Maybe I should get some health insurance on this thing, can't you swap 'stomach ache' for 'mental instability' and save me a little money on my premiums?! Thanks, that's a great boost, hopefully the suspense will continue to torment you for a few chapters yet. J
Nelsonia – Keep this on the quiet, but there was something to the last thing Legless said… that's all I'll say. Shhhh!
Leggylover03 – It wasn't much of a cliffie! To be fair, I've been quite kind on that front recently, but woo, I've got a doozie lined up for next week! I can feel the tension building already. Hehe *rubs hands together gleefully* Look, I would pull Elrond from the Matrix if the whole thing didn't confuse me to the point of unconsciousness!
Silvertoekee – Of course Estel will try and help his friend, no matter how scared he is, in his heart he couldn't really abandon his friend. Or will he? I know, it's an annoying habit of mine to do that.
Grumpy – Ah, addiction, it's a long slippery slope to crashing and burning, where you'll read any form of crappy fiction, even tea-time short stories in shitty cheap woman's magazines! Save yourself! But don't go cold turkey, you'll just relapse and end up sitting in a foetal position reading Jilly Cooper novels all day. I have no idea where that came from.
Darkphoenix – Oi, no using lines from irritating McDonalds adverts! Ooh, they drive me insane… The twins are currently rescuing Elrond from the puzzling minefields that we call 'the Matrix' I thought they'd have more luck because they're elves and therefore smarter, so the baffling plotline shouldn't disturb them. Well, that's the plan anyway. Hehe, I have tickets, but at least you don't have to get up so early to catch the coach, so that's something.
Dragonfly – Ah, Legolas' yoga classes finally became useful. He should be a gymnast. He would get all his fine looking selves down to Middle Earth if the plotline hadn't given him a migraine. Give him some aspirin and he'll soon be on his way.
Maranwe1 – Seeing as though you read all my other replies, then you'll know that I've seen #3. Hugo doesn't look insane, the plot just made him a little hysterical. See what I mean about the last chapter being shit, I obviously didn't make important things clear. Grr…
Tithen Min – I'm worried they allow such random ladies to treat people in hospitals! I smell malpractice lawsuits *ducks from flying syringe* When I get shot on Thursday, I want you to treat me, okay? That's the only way I'll get over my irrational fear of hospitals.
Tigerlily713 – Thanks, there's a bit of dialogue penned in for chapter 17 that I'll probably e-mail you for your opinion. Umm… your ambidexterousness is a grey area, but I'll let you survive because I have a nice side to me somewhere. Keep an eye on the news, but it'll probably read 'Crazed girl trips over large net just behind England Captain' Sigh…
Ryoko Lasgalen – Dude, you're beyond high. That's away with the fairies shit… I'll bring it, and squash you like my rugby team squashed yours! Hah. Legless can't have green hair, his secret hair bleaching will be exposed!