Hello again! Thanks for the reviews as always. For those of you who don't like it, I apologize. But I can't please everyone. If I could, I'd be the President or something. But thank you for giving me a chance, and I hope that you might pick it back up one day!
Disclaimer: Not mine, as always. I do not own these people in any shape, form, or fashion. I just like to torture them.
The Silent Prince
Chapter 16: Silenced
Another day came and went. Ylana barely marked its passing, except to note that they were one day closer to Legolas. One day closer to finding their friend. That was the only significance the passing of time held for her.
The strain was beginning to show on Aragorn's face. He was pale, with sunken in cheeks and eyes. Ylana's heart went out to him. She knew that as more time passed, the human was feeling more and more guilty about his friend's capture. She also knew that it would do no good to try and convince him that it wasn't his fault. The Elf had know him all his life, knew how he liked to take the blame whenever something bad happened to someone he cared about. So she simply stood by him, offering her silent strength.
The three companions hardly spoke, preferring to save their breath for running. True to her word, Ylana had been making them stop every so often so that they could rest, though she seriously doubted resting was what Aragorn was doing.
Out of the three of them, Boromir was faring the best. Ylana didn't wonder at this. Oh, the warrior was worried for the prince. Of that she had little doubt. He might not like the Elf, but he respected him. Yet his worry wasn't near Ylana's, and couldn't even compare to Aragorn's. Also, he didn't feel the guilt his companions did. Therefore, he could rest easy when he had the chance.
Luckily, the trail of their enemies was easy to follow. They came across a few dead Uruk-hai, who had obviously been stabbed by their fellows. Ylana felt her stomach churn at the hideous sight, but said nothing. Nor did she say anything when they came to the foul creatures' campsites, always covered in piles of gnawed bones. The ashen pallor of Aragorn's face showed that his imagination was doing enough without her adding to it.
The small things they found along the way did nothing to help at all. Clumps of long blond hair, and torn pieces of a green tunic and silver shirt, all bloodstained. Ylana felt like crying. She could only imagine what the Ranger was going through.
The worst came not at a campsite, but along the churned earth and broken branches that marked the passage of the Uruk-hai. It was Legolas's traveling cloak---a gift from Arwen, who had made it herself---bloody and torn.
Aragorn had fallen to his knees, clutching the cloak to his chest. He began trembling, and Ylana caught tears in his gray eyes before he closed them, bowed his head, and began murmuring softly in Elvish. Boromir, muttering something about scouting ahead, turned his back to the distraught Ranger and walked away.
Ylana went to Aragorn and placed a hand on his shoulder. She said nothing, waiting until he had finished his prayer and was once more looking up at her with tear-filled eyes.
"Saruman wants him alive," she reminded him gently. "They may have hurt him, but they won't kill him. Remember that, and be strong for him. There is no knowing what horrors he will endure, and he will need your strength to get through."
Aragorn nodded as he stood. He blinked his tears away and looked at Ylana. *Really* looked at her, and not *through* her as he had ever since they had left Gandalf. Anger and fear were replaced by concern in his eyes. "You look tired," he said softly, clutching Legolas's cloak to him with one hand while using the other to reach out and grip her shoulder.
She smiled, allowing some of her weariness to show through. "Not as much as you, mellon-nin," she pointed out(1). "You're letting your guilt overwhelm you and haven't been resting. No, don't deny it, Estel. I've known you since the day you were brought to us, and can read you like a book. And before you make any sort of protest, let me remind you that what happened was *not* your fault. If you keep on believing so and not resting, then, when we reach the tower of Orthanc, I will not allow you to go in and aid in our rescue of Legolas."
Aragorn blinked at her, not able to speak as his jaw was hanging to his knees. "What?!" he finally managed to sputter. "You couldn't. You wouldn't!"
"I can and will." The set of Ylana's jaw and icy tone of voice left no doubt as to weather or not she would hold to that promise. "We can't have you going in there while dead on your feet. You'd be a liability. To pull this off, we'll need everyone to be at full strength. If you go in tired, you might make a mistake. And, if you make a mistake, you might cost Legolas his life." She stared deeply into his eyes, still looking stern. "Do you understand?"
For a long moment, Aragorn simply stood there, staring back at her. Finally, he could stand it no longer.
The Ranger broke down into tears. The emotion he'd fought so hard to contain since Legolas had been abducted suddenly came pouring out.
He buried his face in the Elf's ragged cloak, managing somehow in his distraught state to notice that it still smelled like his friend. "It *is* all my fault," he sobbed. "I promised him that I wouldn't let Saruman take him. That I would protect him. And I broke it. I failed him!" The tears came faster.
Then Ylana's arms were around him, holding him tightly against her as she would a child. "You are not the only one who has broken a promise," she whispered in his ear, and he was surprised by the amount of pain in her voice. "I too have broken one. A very serious one."
Aragorn's sobs quieted a bit as his companion began stroking his hair. "As Gallas was dying, I promised him that I would never let what happened to him and Mother happen again. That I would protect those I loved and cared for from harm, even if it meant my own death. And so I became a warrior, learned how to fight so that I could fulfill my promise. And I've done well. Until now."
There was a catch in her voice that did not go unnoticed by the crying Ranger. "When you told me that Legolas was gone, all I could think of was that I'd disappointed Gallas. That I'd let him down. And that hurt worse than realizing that I'd lost a close friend."
There was a pause, then she let out a small laugh. "But then I remembered something that my mother once told me. A promise is never actually broken until you give up trying to fulfill it. So what if you don't get it right the first time? Keep trying, and you'll eventually get it. I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that you promised that you wouldn't let Saruman take him, and that you failed."
Aragorn blinked, his tears slowly beginning to dry up. ~How did she...? It feels like she's reading my mind!~
"You have not stopped him the first time, but there's still a chance!" Her voice was soft, full of hope. "We can take him back from Saruman. You still have a chance to protect him from evil. Your promise has not been broken. Not yet."
Aragorn pulled away so that he could look at her. There were still tears in his eyes, but these were tears of a different kind. They were tears of joy and hope. And of love.
He reached out to hug her tightly. "Thank you so much, mellon-nin," he whispered. "I don't know why the Valar graced me with a friend like you, but I'm glad they did." He laughed. "It seems as though *you* should have been named Hope, not I. For even in the darkest nights, you can find a ray of light."
Ylana returned his grin but her voice, when she spoke, was still stern. "You must never give up hope. Even when there seems to be none, you must not give up. For, when you've given up hope, you've given up on yourself."
He dipped his head. "And I won't," he said fiercely. "Never."
She nodded in return, and her smile widened. "Now then," she said in a cheerful voice. "We have a ways to go, and have tarried here long enough. Let's find our errant human and be on our way."
Aragorn called out for Boromir as he rolled up Legolas's cloak and stuffed it into his pack. He too was anxious to be on his way. ~Everything is going to be all right...~
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Legolas fought to control his emotions and his expression as his brother strolled forward, a smug grin on his face. "Annolir," he said in the calmest voice possible. "What a pleasant surprise."
The older Elf came to a halt in front of where his brother was tied, looking him up and down. Legolas returned his gaze, wishing his heart would stop trying to leap out of his chest. ~Be calm. Don't let him see that you're afraid. It'll only---~
The backhand caught him completely by surprise. One moment he was looking into his brother's eyes---ice blue locked with emerald green---and the next he was looking as the wall, his face stinging and eyes watering.
When he turned back, Annolir was still there. But the calm demeanor and smug grin were gone. In there place were clenched fists, and clenched jaw, and eyes flashing with angry fire.
"Do you have any idea what you did to me?" he shouted. "How badly you humiliated me? Do you know what it was like, hearing all of Father's Court saying that *you* would make a better king than *me*? And me, knowing that all you did was play all day while I studied so that I would know how to be a better ruler?"
Legolas managed his own smug grin. "Sometimes the truth isn't what we want to hear, brother."
He expected the blow this time, but that didn't mean it hurt any less. Spots danced before his eyes, and he could taste blood.
Annolir was now breathing heavily, and a dangerous light was in his eyes. "I thought I'd teach you a lesson. Scare you a bit." Here his lips twisted into a sneer. "And it worked. You knew who it was that beat you. You were to scared to even say a word! So off you went to Rivendell, where you'd be out of my hair for awhile. Where you couldn't be a threat to me."
His face twisted with rage. "But even though you were away, you were *still* outdoing me! Especially when we got the message saying that you had joined the Fellowship of the Ring and was embarking on a Quest to destroy the One Ring." His voice was bitter. "Father was so proud, and he made sure that *everyone* knew that his son was attempting to destroy the greatest evil known in Middle-Earth. 'Prince Legolas is so brave,' they said. 'He recovers from his wounds, then leaves on this perilous Quest!' 'Oh, I do hope he comes back safely.' 'Don't worry. Prince Legolas is the best warrior in Mirkwood. He'll be fine.'"
With a snarl, Annolir pounded his fist into an open palm. "I was sick of it. All I wanted was for you to go away, to remind people that *I* was to be they're king. That I had been studying for years to be they're king. That I was better than you! But no. You had to go and join this stupid Fellowship. Even in Rivendell, you were humiliating me. I couldn't exactly give you another beating, so I decided to try a different approach."
"That's where I come in," Saruman said in a cheerful voice. He still stood to Legolas's left, and was practically leering at the younger Elf. "Your brother came to me for help with his little problem. Of course, I agreed. It's been so long since I've tortured anyone, and I fear I've become a bit rusty." He didn't sound the least bit sad. "And it was a way to kill two birds with one stone, as the saying goes. You were a companion to Gandalf, so I took this opportunity to strike back at him."
Legolas felt his stomach twist in knots. ~You were right for the most part, Ylana. Not that it did either of us any good.~
Thinking about the one person he had found who understood him, whom his brother and his pet wizard had most likely killed, made Legolas bold. "So you've got me," he said, his voice betraying none of the quaking fear he was feeling. "Now what? Are you going to kill me?"
Annolir blinked, then chuckled. He had gone back to looking relaxed, and that scared Legolas even more. "Kill you? Oh no, my brother. Death would be too good for you. Could you imagine everyone's reaction if you were to die? Why, you'd be a hero! No, I have something better in mind for you."
The elder prince began pacing back and forth. "I want you to be humiliated the way I was humiliated. The way *you* humiliated me. I want people to see you walking down the street and do anything they can to avoid you. I want people to point and whisper when they see you. Mothers will hide their children from you. No one will want to be around you. You will be forsaken by all those you once loved." He stopped and stared Legolas in strait in the eye. When he spoke, his voice was soft, dangerous. "That, dear brother, is to be your punishment."
Legolas could do nothing but stare back. There were no words to match the sheer hatred that had consumed Annolir. Nothing that he said could make a difference.
Something passed between them during that silent exchange. Something that only brothers would understand. Legolas understanding and forgiving his brother. Annolir---the small part of his soul that was still capable of loving---begging for that understanding and forgiveness.
After a long moment, Annolir stepped back with a nod. "Saruman, he's all yours."
The wizard raised an eyebrow. "Will you not stay and watch? It should be great fun."
"No." His eyes were still on his brother. "No, I might end up killing him and ruining everything. I have things to do. Reports that I must write and send to Father. I will check back with you later." With that, he bowed to the wizard and left.
Saruman watched him go, then turned back to Legolas with a wicked gleam in his eyes that made the Elf shudder.
'Well, now," he said, rubbing his hands together gleefully. 'Where shall we start?"
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Ylana tried to make lunch as cheerful an affair as she could. She told stories of her childhood, coaxing Aragorn into talking as well. Boromir also told stories of his days growing up in the White City. He spoke of the time his brother had tried to sneak into his father's bedroom to play a prank, and had had to dive into a closet when his father had come in. It had been hours before Denethor had left and Faramir could come out.
Aragorn couldn't help but smile. He could remember similar things happening to him and his brothers. Except that the twins got caught because they couldn't stop laughing.
The female Elf winked at Boromir. ~At least we've made him smile. That's good.~ "I remember a time when a certain young Man decided to put a spider in an Elf-Lord's hair. An Elf-Lord who just happened to be deathly afraid of spiders."
The Ranger blinked at her, his face slowly changing from pale white to red, and from red to crimson. "I'd forgotten all about that."
Ylana laughed. "Oh, I could never forget. It was marvelous! For the next three days, whenever Glorfindel saw you, he would run after you screaming like a banshee."
"And most of you were too busy laughing to come and help me," he accused, leveling a finger at her.
A twinkle was in her silver eyes. "And what *could* we have done? If we had tried to help, he would have done things to us as well! But it was amusing to watch."
Aragorn poked the fire with a stick, muttering something about good-for-nothing Elves. Boromir took out his pipe, wisely staying out of what was quickly becoming a domestic dispute. Ylana leaned back on her elbows and stared up at the sky.
A silence descended on the group, each lost in his or her own thoughts. It was no great thing to know that they were thinking of happier times, back before the cares of the world had been heaped upon their shoulders.
Aragorn, much against his will, found his mind drifting to the future. A very *bleak* future. One where he was a miserable king, his country fallen to ruin, his wife turning to others for comfort. A future without Legolas.
He quickly shook his head, pushing the thought away. ~Quit thinking like that,~ he told himself sternly. ~He's still alive. I would know if he had died. I just have to find him.~
"Estel?" Ylana's voice, soft and concerned, cut through his dismal thoughts. "Aragorn? Are you all right?"
The Ranger blinked and found that both Ylana and Boromir---whose head was wreathed by a cloud of smoke---were looking at him curiously.
"I'm fine," he said gruffly climbing to his feet. "Come, if you are finished. I want to get going." ~I can't stand just sitting here doing nothing.~ "I want to reach the edge of the forest by nightfall."
His two companions quickly gathered their things as he put out the fire. He hoisted his own pack onto his back, briefly fingering the torn and bloody cloak.
Five minutes later, the three were gone, nothing left in the clearing to mark their presence except for a pile of ashes being scattered by the wind.
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The tables had been invented years ago for medical purposes, to allow Healer's to stand a patient up or lay him down at an angle if need be to have better access to a certain part of the body. They quickly became popular torture devices, used to hold a victim in place in any position. There weren't any in the dungeons of Mirkwood. Legolas's mother had hated them and ordered that they all be removed. And, if she found any that remained, she would tear the limbs off of every Elf she came across until they were gone. The threat was taken seriously, and every 'torture table' was chopped into bits and burned. Even though their Queen had been dead for over a thousand years, none of the offending tables had crossed the threshold of the Mirkwood Castle since.
Legolas tried to think of other things, anything to keep his mind occupied. When the torture had started, he had tried to go into his safe place in the back of his mind. But Saruman, anticipating this, had somehow blocked it, preventing the Elf and escape from his pain.
His entire torso was wrapped in pain. Saruman had caused shoots of flame to come out of each of his fingers, then had traced them all along the Elf's chest and stomach, leaving angry burn marks and intense pain behind.
Yet, not once had Legolas cried out. He bit his lip so hard he could taste blood, and his eyes filled with water. But, though a scream was lodged at the bottom of his throat, begging to be let out, he stubbornly held it back. ~I will not give in. I will not let them break me. They will not win.~
"You are strong indeed," Saruman purred, almost seductively, in his ear. "But I have seen your mind, my silent one. Before your cursed Elf-witch blocked it. I know your strengths and weaknesses. I know your hopes, dreams, and desires. And I know your fears."
The wizard trailed his fingers up the Elf's chest, toward his throat. There were no flames coming from his fingers now, no more burn marks crisscrossing his fair skin and sending him nearly swooning with pain. But, for some reason, this terrified Legolas even more. Much more.
"You do not speak unless it is necessary," the wizard continued, his voice still soft. "But you fear to be silenced completely. For then you could not warn your friends of danger. You could not share your thoughts on what decision you believe is right. You could not greet those you care about in the morning, nor wish them good night. You could not sing your songs."
Saruman's hand was now over Legolas's throat, his fingers lightly touching the Elf's skin. Legolas was finding it hard to swallow, and his breathing was shallow and irregular. His fists were clenched in an effort to hide his trembling from his captor.
Saruman leaned in closer. So close, in fact, that Legolas could feel the wizard's breath wash over his skin. "Your brother wishes to humiliate you." He was whispering now. "You hate having to depend on others. it makes you feel weak, helpless. Therefor, I believe I have the fitting punishment for you..."
Suddenly, his hand clenched into a fist. Legolas felt as if his throat had been ripped out, and pain like liquid fire ran all through his body. There wasn't a place left that did not hurt.
The prince arched back, straining against his bonds. Tears filled his eyes. He could hold it back no longer. He opened his mouth to let out the scream that had been building...
But nothing came out. He had been silenced.
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(1)mellon-nin----------my friend.
Disclaimer: Not mine, as always. I do not own these people in any shape, form, or fashion. I just like to torture them.
The Silent Prince
Chapter 16: Silenced
Another day came and went. Ylana barely marked its passing, except to note that they were one day closer to Legolas. One day closer to finding their friend. That was the only significance the passing of time held for her.
The strain was beginning to show on Aragorn's face. He was pale, with sunken in cheeks and eyes. Ylana's heart went out to him. She knew that as more time passed, the human was feeling more and more guilty about his friend's capture. She also knew that it would do no good to try and convince him that it wasn't his fault. The Elf had know him all his life, knew how he liked to take the blame whenever something bad happened to someone he cared about. So she simply stood by him, offering her silent strength.
The three companions hardly spoke, preferring to save their breath for running. True to her word, Ylana had been making them stop every so often so that they could rest, though she seriously doubted resting was what Aragorn was doing.
Out of the three of them, Boromir was faring the best. Ylana didn't wonder at this. Oh, the warrior was worried for the prince. Of that she had little doubt. He might not like the Elf, but he respected him. Yet his worry wasn't near Ylana's, and couldn't even compare to Aragorn's. Also, he didn't feel the guilt his companions did. Therefore, he could rest easy when he had the chance.
Luckily, the trail of their enemies was easy to follow. They came across a few dead Uruk-hai, who had obviously been stabbed by their fellows. Ylana felt her stomach churn at the hideous sight, but said nothing. Nor did she say anything when they came to the foul creatures' campsites, always covered in piles of gnawed bones. The ashen pallor of Aragorn's face showed that his imagination was doing enough without her adding to it.
The small things they found along the way did nothing to help at all. Clumps of long blond hair, and torn pieces of a green tunic and silver shirt, all bloodstained. Ylana felt like crying. She could only imagine what the Ranger was going through.
The worst came not at a campsite, but along the churned earth and broken branches that marked the passage of the Uruk-hai. It was Legolas's traveling cloak---a gift from Arwen, who had made it herself---bloody and torn.
Aragorn had fallen to his knees, clutching the cloak to his chest. He began trembling, and Ylana caught tears in his gray eyes before he closed them, bowed his head, and began murmuring softly in Elvish. Boromir, muttering something about scouting ahead, turned his back to the distraught Ranger and walked away.
Ylana went to Aragorn and placed a hand on his shoulder. She said nothing, waiting until he had finished his prayer and was once more looking up at her with tear-filled eyes.
"Saruman wants him alive," she reminded him gently. "They may have hurt him, but they won't kill him. Remember that, and be strong for him. There is no knowing what horrors he will endure, and he will need your strength to get through."
Aragorn nodded as he stood. He blinked his tears away and looked at Ylana. *Really* looked at her, and not *through* her as he had ever since they had left Gandalf. Anger and fear were replaced by concern in his eyes. "You look tired," he said softly, clutching Legolas's cloak to him with one hand while using the other to reach out and grip her shoulder.
She smiled, allowing some of her weariness to show through. "Not as much as you, mellon-nin," she pointed out(1). "You're letting your guilt overwhelm you and haven't been resting. No, don't deny it, Estel. I've known you since the day you were brought to us, and can read you like a book. And before you make any sort of protest, let me remind you that what happened was *not* your fault. If you keep on believing so and not resting, then, when we reach the tower of Orthanc, I will not allow you to go in and aid in our rescue of Legolas."
Aragorn blinked at her, not able to speak as his jaw was hanging to his knees. "What?!" he finally managed to sputter. "You couldn't. You wouldn't!"
"I can and will." The set of Ylana's jaw and icy tone of voice left no doubt as to weather or not she would hold to that promise. "We can't have you going in there while dead on your feet. You'd be a liability. To pull this off, we'll need everyone to be at full strength. If you go in tired, you might make a mistake. And, if you make a mistake, you might cost Legolas his life." She stared deeply into his eyes, still looking stern. "Do you understand?"
For a long moment, Aragorn simply stood there, staring back at her. Finally, he could stand it no longer.
The Ranger broke down into tears. The emotion he'd fought so hard to contain since Legolas had been abducted suddenly came pouring out.
He buried his face in the Elf's ragged cloak, managing somehow in his distraught state to notice that it still smelled like his friend. "It *is* all my fault," he sobbed. "I promised him that I wouldn't let Saruman take him. That I would protect him. And I broke it. I failed him!" The tears came faster.
Then Ylana's arms were around him, holding him tightly against her as she would a child. "You are not the only one who has broken a promise," she whispered in his ear, and he was surprised by the amount of pain in her voice. "I too have broken one. A very serious one."
Aragorn's sobs quieted a bit as his companion began stroking his hair. "As Gallas was dying, I promised him that I would never let what happened to him and Mother happen again. That I would protect those I loved and cared for from harm, even if it meant my own death. And so I became a warrior, learned how to fight so that I could fulfill my promise. And I've done well. Until now."
There was a catch in her voice that did not go unnoticed by the crying Ranger. "When you told me that Legolas was gone, all I could think of was that I'd disappointed Gallas. That I'd let him down. And that hurt worse than realizing that I'd lost a close friend."
There was a pause, then she let out a small laugh. "But then I remembered something that my mother once told me. A promise is never actually broken until you give up trying to fulfill it. So what if you don't get it right the first time? Keep trying, and you'll eventually get it. I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that you promised that you wouldn't let Saruman take him, and that you failed."
Aragorn blinked, his tears slowly beginning to dry up. ~How did she...? It feels like she's reading my mind!~
"You have not stopped him the first time, but there's still a chance!" Her voice was soft, full of hope. "We can take him back from Saruman. You still have a chance to protect him from evil. Your promise has not been broken. Not yet."
Aragorn pulled away so that he could look at her. There were still tears in his eyes, but these were tears of a different kind. They were tears of joy and hope. And of love.
He reached out to hug her tightly. "Thank you so much, mellon-nin," he whispered. "I don't know why the Valar graced me with a friend like you, but I'm glad they did." He laughed. "It seems as though *you* should have been named Hope, not I. For even in the darkest nights, you can find a ray of light."
Ylana returned his grin but her voice, when she spoke, was still stern. "You must never give up hope. Even when there seems to be none, you must not give up. For, when you've given up hope, you've given up on yourself."
He dipped his head. "And I won't," he said fiercely. "Never."
She nodded in return, and her smile widened. "Now then," she said in a cheerful voice. "We have a ways to go, and have tarried here long enough. Let's find our errant human and be on our way."
Aragorn called out for Boromir as he rolled up Legolas's cloak and stuffed it into his pack. He too was anxious to be on his way. ~Everything is going to be all right...~
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Legolas fought to control his emotions and his expression as his brother strolled forward, a smug grin on his face. "Annolir," he said in the calmest voice possible. "What a pleasant surprise."
The older Elf came to a halt in front of where his brother was tied, looking him up and down. Legolas returned his gaze, wishing his heart would stop trying to leap out of his chest. ~Be calm. Don't let him see that you're afraid. It'll only---~
The backhand caught him completely by surprise. One moment he was looking into his brother's eyes---ice blue locked with emerald green---and the next he was looking as the wall, his face stinging and eyes watering.
When he turned back, Annolir was still there. But the calm demeanor and smug grin were gone. In there place were clenched fists, and clenched jaw, and eyes flashing with angry fire.
"Do you have any idea what you did to me?" he shouted. "How badly you humiliated me? Do you know what it was like, hearing all of Father's Court saying that *you* would make a better king than *me*? And me, knowing that all you did was play all day while I studied so that I would know how to be a better ruler?"
Legolas managed his own smug grin. "Sometimes the truth isn't what we want to hear, brother."
He expected the blow this time, but that didn't mean it hurt any less. Spots danced before his eyes, and he could taste blood.
Annolir was now breathing heavily, and a dangerous light was in his eyes. "I thought I'd teach you a lesson. Scare you a bit." Here his lips twisted into a sneer. "And it worked. You knew who it was that beat you. You were to scared to even say a word! So off you went to Rivendell, where you'd be out of my hair for awhile. Where you couldn't be a threat to me."
His face twisted with rage. "But even though you were away, you were *still* outdoing me! Especially when we got the message saying that you had joined the Fellowship of the Ring and was embarking on a Quest to destroy the One Ring." His voice was bitter. "Father was so proud, and he made sure that *everyone* knew that his son was attempting to destroy the greatest evil known in Middle-Earth. 'Prince Legolas is so brave,' they said. 'He recovers from his wounds, then leaves on this perilous Quest!' 'Oh, I do hope he comes back safely.' 'Don't worry. Prince Legolas is the best warrior in Mirkwood. He'll be fine.'"
With a snarl, Annolir pounded his fist into an open palm. "I was sick of it. All I wanted was for you to go away, to remind people that *I* was to be they're king. That I had been studying for years to be they're king. That I was better than you! But no. You had to go and join this stupid Fellowship. Even in Rivendell, you were humiliating me. I couldn't exactly give you another beating, so I decided to try a different approach."
"That's where I come in," Saruman said in a cheerful voice. He still stood to Legolas's left, and was practically leering at the younger Elf. "Your brother came to me for help with his little problem. Of course, I agreed. It's been so long since I've tortured anyone, and I fear I've become a bit rusty." He didn't sound the least bit sad. "And it was a way to kill two birds with one stone, as the saying goes. You were a companion to Gandalf, so I took this opportunity to strike back at him."
Legolas felt his stomach twist in knots. ~You were right for the most part, Ylana. Not that it did either of us any good.~
Thinking about the one person he had found who understood him, whom his brother and his pet wizard had most likely killed, made Legolas bold. "So you've got me," he said, his voice betraying none of the quaking fear he was feeling. "Now what? Are you going to kill me?"
Annolir blinked, then chuckled. He had gone back to looking relaxed, and that scared Legolas even more. "Kill you? Oh no, my brother. Death would be too good for you. Could you imagine everyone's reaction if you were to die? Why, you'd be a hero! No, I have something better in mind for you."
The elder prince began pacing back and forth. "I want you to be humiliated the way I was humiliated. The way *you* humiliated me. I want people to see you walking down the street and do anything they can to avoid you. I want people to point and whisper when they see you. Mothers will hide their children from you. No one will want to be around you. You will be forsaken by all those you once loved." He stopped and stared Legolas in strait in the eye. When he spoke, his voice was soft, dangerous. "That, dear brother, is to be your punishment."
Legolas could do nothing but stare back. There were no words to match the sheer hatred that had consumed Annolir. Nothing that he said could make a difference.
Something passed between them during that silent exchange. Something that only brothers would understand. Legolas understanding and forgiving his brother. Annolir---the small part of his soul that was still capable of loving---begging for that understanding and forgiveness.
After a long moment, Annolir stepped back with a nod. "Saruman, he's all yours."
The wizard raised an eyebrow. "Will you not stay and watch? It should be great fun."
"No." His eyes were still on his brother. "No, I might end up killing him and ruining everything. I have things to do. Reports that I must write and send to Father. I will check back with you later." With that, he bowed to the wizard and left.
Saruman watched him go, then turned back to Legolas with a wicked gleam in his eyes that made the Elf shudder.
'Well, now," he said, rubbing his hands together gleefully. 'Where shall we start?"
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Ylana tried to make lunch as cheerful an affair as she could. She told stories of her childhood, coaxing Aragorn into talking as well. Boromir also told stories of his days growing up in the White City. He spoke of the time his brother had tried to sneak into his father's bedroom to play a prank, and had had to dive into a closet when his father had come in. It had been hours before Denethor had left and Faramir could come out.
Aragorn couldn't help but smile. He could remember similar things happening to him and his brothers. Except that the twins got caught because they couldn't stop laughing.
The female Elf winked at Boromir. ~At least we've made him smile. That's good.~ "I remember a time when a certain young Man decided to put a spider in an Elf-Lord's hair. An Elf-Lord who just happened to be deathly afraid of spiders."
The Ranger blinked at her, his face slowly changing from pale white to red, and from red to crimson. "I'd forgotten all about that."
Ylana laughed. "Oh, I could never forget. It was marvelous! For the next three days, whenever Glorfindel saw you, he would run after you screaming like a banshee."
"And most of you were too busy laughing to come and help me," he accused, leveling a finger at her.
A twinkle was in her silver eyes. "And what *could* we have done? If we had tried to help, he would have done things to us as well! But it was amusing to watch."
Aragorn poked the fire with a stick, muttering something about good-for-nothing Elves. Boromir took out his pipe, wisely staying out of what was quickly becoming a domestic dispute. Ylana leaned back on her elbows and stared up at the sky.
A silence descended on the group, each lost in his or her own thoughts. It was no great thing to know that they were thinking of happier times, back before the cares of the world had been heaped upon their shoulders.
Aragorn, much against his will, found his mind drifting to the future. A very *bleak* future. One where he was a miserable king, his country fallen to ruin, his wife turning to others for comfort. A future without Legolas.
He quickly shook his head, pushing the thought away. ~Quit thinking like that,~ he told himself sternly. ~He's still alive. I would know if he had died. I just have to find him.~
"Estel?" Ylana's voice, soft and concerned, cut through his dismal thoughts. "Aragorn? Are you all right?"
The Ranger blinked and found that both Ylana and Boromir---whose head was wreathed by a cloud of smoke---were looking at him curiously.
"I'm fine," he said gruffly climbing to his feet. "Come, if you are finished. I want to get going." ~I can't stand just sitting here doing nothing.~ "I want to reach the edge of the forest by nightfall."
His two companions quickly gathered their things as he put out the fire. He hoisted his own pack onto his back, briefly fingering the torn and bloody cloak.
Five minutes later, the three were gone, nothing left in the clearing to mark their presence except for a pile of ashes being scattered by the wind.
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The tables had been invented years ago for medical purposes, to allow Healer's to stand a patient up or lay him down at an angle if need be to have better access to a certain part of the body. They quickly became popular torture devices, used to hold a victim in place in any position. There weren't any in the dungeons of Mirkwood. Legolas's mother had hated them and ordered that they all be removed. And, if she found any that remained, she would tear the limbs off of every Elf she came across until they were gone. The threat was taken seriously, and every 'torture table' was chopped into bits and burned. Even though their Queen had been dead for over a thousand years, none of the offending tables had crossed the threshold of the Mirkwood Castle since.
Legolas tried to think of other things, anything to keep his mind occupied. When the torture had started, he had tried to go into his safe place in the back of his mind. But Saruman, anticipating this, had somehow blocked it, preventing the Elf and escape from his pain.
His entire torso was wrapped in pain. Saruman had caused shoots of flame to come out of each of his fingers, then had traced them all along the Elf's chest and stomach, leaving angry burn marks and intense pain behind.
Yet, not once had Legolas cried out. He bit his lip so hard he could taste blood, and his eyes filled with water. But, though a scream was lodged at the bottom of his throat, begging to be let out, he stubbornly held it back. ~I will not give in. I will not let them break me. They will not win.~
"You are strong indeed," Saruman purred, almost seductively, in his ear. "But I have seen your mind, my silent one. Before your cursed Elf-witch blocked it. I know your strengths and weaknesses. I know your hopes, dreams, and desires. And I know your fears."
The wizard trailed his fingers up the Elf's chest, toward his throat. There were no flames coming from his fingers now, no more burn marks crisscrossing his fair skin and sending him nearly swooning with pain. But, for some reason, this terrified Legolas even more. Much more.
"You do not speak unless it is necessary," the wizard continued, his voice still soft. "But you fear to be silenced completely. For then you could not warn your friends of danger. You could not share your thoughts on what decision you believe is right. You could not greet those you care about in the morning, nor wish them good night. You could not sing your songs."
Saruman's hand was now over Legolas's throat, his fingers lightly touching the Elf's skin. Legolas was finding it hard to swallow, and his breathing was shallow and irregular. His fists were clenched in an effort to hide his trembling from his captor.
Saruman leaned in closer. So close, in fact, that Legolas could feel the wizard's breath wash over his skin. "Your brother wishes to humiliate you." He was whispering now. "You hate having to depend on others. it makes you feel weak, helpless. Therefor, I believe I have the fitting punishment for you..."
Suddenly, his hand clenched into a fist. Legolas felt as if his throat had been ripped out, and pain like liquid fire ran all through his body. There wasn't a place left that did not hurt.
The prince arched back, straining against his bonds. Tears filled his eyes. He could hold it back no longer. He opened his mouth to let out the scream that had been building...
But nothing came out. He had been silenced.
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(1)mellon-nin----------my friend.