Hi everyone! Wow. I've gotten fifty reviews!!! Thank you to everyone who took their time out to tell me how much they enjoyed---or didn't enjoy---my writing. You guys are awesome!
I'M OUT ON BREAK!!!! Whoo hoo! A whole month without school. Yay! I love college. No measly two weeks like high school. Heh..
To all my fellow POTC fanatics who went and bought the movie at midnight on Monday: rock on!!! I hope your copy isn't as worn out as mine.
Disclaimer: I don't own these guys. My brain is too fried to have ever come up with them. Wish I would've, though. Then I'd be rich....
The Silent Prince
Chapter 19: The Rescue
Slowly, almost reluctantly, Arien guided the Sun over the horizon. Another day had begun.
Ylana watched it with a feeling of restless anticipation. Today was the day they had been waiting for. Today was the day they would rescue Legolas.
She sat perched high in a tree, her silver eyes turned towards Orthanc, watching. Below here, Aragorn and Boromir were packing up camp while still discussing their plan of action. The Ranger had wanted to set out at the Sun's first light, but Ylana had argued that, today of all days, they would need to be at full strength. He had grumbled, but had agreed to eat a meager breakfast before setting out.
The tension and apprehension in the air was so thick that anyone of them could easily have sliced it with their blades. They were all afraid. Not just of what might happen to them, but what they would find waiting for them in the black tower.
But it didn't matter. Legolas was their friend, and they were going after him, no matter how scared they were.
They had stayed up late into the night, trying to figure out their best course of action. Finally, after finding flaws with every idea that came to them, they threw caution to the wind and had decided to simply storm the tower. Saruman was a wizard. They held no doubts that he would be aware of their presence the second they stepped foot into the ring surrounding Orthanc. If they had to fight their way to Legolas, then so be it.
Ylana had been restless, unable to get any sleep. She was the only one of the three who could feel the evil of the tower so acutely, and it caused her to be cagey, jumping at every little sound. So she had kept watch, prowling around the perimeter of their campsite, one eye always turned towards Orthanc.
Aragorn looked as though he couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten a decent amount of sleep. His cheeks were deeply sunken in. The rough stubble on his chin, always so carefully trimmed, was beginning to look suspiciously like a full grown beard. His eyes were bloodshot, and the rings under them that Ylana had noticed a few days ago were even darker. But every inch of him spoke of hope and determination. And that comforted the Elf to no end.
The two Men finally finished packing their things and began to prepare themselves for battle. Boromir had his sword, his shield, and his throwing knife at the ready. Aragorn carried his bow, quiver, and Anduril, as well as Legolas's two white-handled knives. Ylana had given them to him the night before, saying that Legolas would much rather receive them from his best friend rather than the girl he barely knew. The Ranger had blushed, but he'd taken them gratefully. Ylana herself had her own bow and quiver, with Dolinril hanging from her hip.
"All right," Aragorn said grimly once they were all ready. "Ylana! Let's go. It's time."
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~Today's the day.~
Legolas was lost somewhere in the back of his mind. He had delved so deep that he wasn't sure if anything---or anyone---would be able to pull him out. But he did know that, unless he managed to somehow get out the tower today, he would die. His spirit had already started to detach itself from his body. Soon he would fade, and his spirit would travel to the Halls of Mandos.
For some reason, this didn't bother the young prince as much as it had two days ago. Two days ago, he had been strong and brave and willing to fight. That was before his body had been broken, his voice taken, and his will shattered. Now he had resigned himself to his fate. The only regret he had was all of the things he'd left unsaid. Especially to Aragorn.
~At least I'll get to see my mother again,~ he thought as he walked around Rivendell. ~I've missed her so much. And I'll be able to meet Ylana's family! Especially Gallas, since she talked so much about him.~
A breeze blew through the city, brushing the Elf's hair back away from his face. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. ~It is so peaceful here... I wish I could stay here forever. I wonder what the Halls will be like? Glorfindel doesn't talk much about the time he spent there.~
After slaying the Balrog---and being slain himself---the Rivendell Elf had traveled to the resting place of the Elves over in Valinor. He had spent years there before the Valar had decided to send him back to Middle-Earth, a High Elf Lord. While he sometimes spoke of his stay there, he had not---as far as Legolas knew---sat down and fully described it to anyone.
Legolas only hoped that it wasn't because it was so bad that Glorfindel didn't want to remember it. The young prince had heard tell of the Halls, nothing very bad. But Glorfindel was the only one he'd ever met who'd actually been there.
Legolas opened his eyes and turned around, a smile brushing his lips. He was once again in the outdoor Council chamber. Earlier, he had sat in the same chair he'd occupied during the Council of Elrond, thinking. He wondered where the others were at the moment, wondered what they were doing.
Wondered if they even missed him.
~I wonder if Aragorn and Ylana are dead?~ came the sobering thought, chasing his smile away. ~I don't think Aragorn is. Something tells me I would have felt his death. But Ylana... She was just lying there, not moving. And I can't see the Orcs being merciful.~ He could feel the sting of tears in his eyes. ~When I get to the Halls, I will apologize to her. She should never have had to die for my sake.~
With a deep sigh, he walked back inside the Last Homely House. Elrond always kept a room for him, right next to Aragorn's, and he wanted to visit it one last time.
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Ylana was doing her best not to gag. The stench was horrible. The sharp, acrid smell of smoke mixed in with that of unwashed bodies and rotting meat was enough to make even those with stomachs of iron turn their nose away. Here, inside the ring of Isengard, there was no shortage of it.
The trio had been horrified by what they saw when they first entered the ring. Not a single tree was left standing, leaving what Boromir remembered as a lush forest a barren landscape. Chasms at least a thousand feet deep had been dug into the ground, scaffolding built along the edges to allow the Orcs to climb up and down. Smoke rose from the openings, leaving them to wonder what business the foul creatures could be up to.
Aragorn tightened his grip on his sword, swallowing a lump of fear that had suddenly arose in his throat. ~By the Valar, what is going on here?~
"I see very few Orcs above ground," Boromir whispered into the Ranger's ear. He, too, was holding tightly to his sword. "If we hurry, we might be able to make it into the tower before they get a chance to raise the cry."
Aragorn's gray eyes swept over the scene before him, realizing the Boromir was correct. Only a handful of Orcs wandered the grounds. These he knew to be Uruk-hai, for regular Orcs could not bear the sunlight.
"I agree. Ylana?" he said softly, turning to his Elvish companion who looked as though she'd rather be anywhere but there at the moment. "Do you think you can conjure up a distraction for us?"
"With pleasure," she responded as she unsheathed Dolinril and causing it to burst into flames. She aimed it at a part of the ring away from the entrance and spoke a quiet word. Though Boromir had witnessed the sword's power before, he still jumped as a bolt of fire leapt from the blade and struck the piece of wall Ylana had been aiming for.
Shouts arose as the Uruk-hai on guard rushed over to see the cause of the explosion. Aragorn had to smile.
"It's a good thing these creatures are as dim-witted as their cousins," he muttered. "Come! Now's our chance!"
Keeping their blades at the ready, the three pushed off from the bit of wall they had been pressed against for cover and dashed for the entrance of Orthanc. Ylana brought up the rear, ready to send a bolt of fire at anything unfriendly that came their way.
It was only a few feet for them to run, but, to Aragorn, it seemed as if it stretched on for miles. Finally, though, they were inside the tower, having run into no trouble at all.
This unsettled Boromir. "That was too easy," he murmured, glancing about an uneasily as though he expected Saruman himself to jump out at them at any moment. "Something must be going on."
"Quit being so negative," the Ranger growled. "Orcs can't stand the sunlight. That's why we chose to attack during the day, remember? The Uruks are more tolerant, which is why they were posted as guards. The rest must be below ground, or here inside the tower. Now, let's find those dungeons." His tone of voice left no room for questioning.
Boromir still didn't like it, but he knew better than to try and reason with Aragorn at this stage. Now that they were inside the tower, he would stop at nothing until Legolas had been found. "This way," the warrior said, starting down a dark corridor. "The entrance to the dungeons should be down here."
Ylana followed her two human companions warily, eyes constantly darting around. She could feel the evilness of the tower sinking into her flesh, filling her lungs, threatening to crush her heart. She couldn't see how anyone---or anything---could stand to live there. The sooner they found Legolas and got out of there, the better. She could only imagined what the prolonged stay had done to her friend.
Up ahead, Boromir was peering into rooms, checking locked doors, and muttering to himself. "Sure it was this way...On the left...Wooden door."
Aragorn glanced behind him to make sure that she was still following, and his face softened a bit at the sight of her and the obvious distress she was feeling. "Are you all right?" he asked softly.
"I am fine," she assured him with a brief smile. "It's just..." Ylana shuddered. "This place is terrible. It's suffocating me. I feel as though I won't be able to breath again until I am free of this tower."
'We'll be out of here soon," he murmured. 'I promise."
She nodded, but said nothing. She tightened her grip on Dolinril and shot a glance behind her, just to make sure that the eyes she felt watching them were indeed imaginary.
At the end of the corridor, Boromir had opened a door and was cautiously peeking into what lay beyond it. "Aragorn!" he called, his voice soft but urgent. "Quick. I've found it!"
The Ranger hurried forward, Ylana close behind, as Boromir stepped through the thick wooden door. Aragorn's skin was practically alive with a tingling sensation, and his heart was beating to rapidly he was afraid it would burst through his chest. They were getting close. He could feel it.
The corridor that Boromir now lead them down was lit by torches set in scones on the walls. The unwashed smell was even stronger here, and Ylana had to breathe through her mouth in order to keep from being violently sick. Moaning echoed throughout the place, twisting Aragorn's heart. He wished the he could free all of the prisoners, but also knew that that wouldn't be possible.
They began a systematic search of the dungeons, peering into every cell, hoping to find at least some sign of their missing companion. When they didn't, they would ask the prisoners. Some did nothing but stare. Some just screamed. The few who were lucid enough just shook their heads sadly. None of them could remember seeing an Elf.
Aragorn was beginning to despair. They had already searched one floor, and were halfway through another. Still no sign of Legolas. The Ranger began to wonder if his friend was even in the dungeons. ~Maybe Saruman's keeping him locked away somewhere else. In that case, we may never find him!~
He stopped at the next cell he came to and looked in through the bars. "Legolas?" he called softly. "Legolas, it's Estel. Are you in there?"
There was a slight rustling noise, and a bent figure stepped into the small pool of light that was cast by a torch. "Legolas?" came a voice, raspy from disuse. "There be no Legolas here, sonny. Name's Olvand."
Aragorn couldn't decide if he wanted to bang his head on the wall, or cry. "Pardon me. I'm looking for a friend of mine. An Elf. Have you seen him?"
The figure came close, and Aragorn was able to discern that it was an old man. He was rail thin, his clothes little more than rags. A long, angry scar ran down one side of his face, and he was missing an eye. "An Elf? Blond? Blue eyes? Tall? I've seen him."
Aragorn felt his heart do a somersault as he grasped the bars with both hands and pressed his face in closer. "You have?" he asked excitedly. "Where?"
"They've marched him past here twice a day for the past two days. He must be a strong lad. I could tell they were breaking him, but he always walked with his head held up high. Even when he was barely conscious."
"Then he's alive!" Aragorn felt weak with relief, and he would've fallen to the floor if he had not been gripping the bars.
"Aye. He was yesterday." A look of sadness passed over the old man's face. "But I wouldn't hold out much hope for him."
This caused Aragorn's head to snap up. "Why do you say that?"
Olvand nodded at a large, metal door at the end of the corridor. "Because they're keeping him down there. No one who stays on the third floor is around for very long. I hear that's where the stinkin' wizard likes to keep his 'playthings'."
"Not this time," the Ranger snarled as he pushed himself away from the bars, unsheathing Anduril. "Boromir! Ylana! He's on the third floor. Let's go!"
As the three hurried down the corridor, Olvand stuck his arm through the bars and raised it as in a blessing. "Good luck, my young friends," he said softly. "You'll need it."
None of the companions heard him. They quickly passed through the door and ran down the stairs that lead to the third level of dungeons. Both Boromir and Ylana had drawn their blades, and flames were licking Dolinril.
The first thing that Aragorn noticed about this floor was that it was clean. The stench of unclean bodies that had been so strong in the upper levels was now nearly non-existent. The bars were made of thick steel, not rusted iron. Lanterns decorated the walls rather than torches.
"Be on the lookout," Aragorn murmured, looking about warily. "He may have guards posted here."
The other two nodded in agreement before moving off. Aragorn peered into the first cell he came to. Empty. The second one. Empty. The third and fourth were the same.
He felt despair begin to rise in him again. ~Olvand said that people that were put down here weren't around for very long. What if he's been turned into an Orc? What if he's dead and I've just been too worried to feel it? No! I can't---~
"Aragorn! Hurry. I've found him!"
At the sound of Ylana's cry, Aragorn raced forward, heart pounding. ~He's alive. Thank Iluvatar, he's alive!~
Rounding a corner, he saw Ylana standing in front of a cell, sword held out strait in front of her, a steady stream of hot fire pouring into the lock. Boromir stood behind her, one hand on the Elf's shoulder, anxiously peering forward.
Aragorn came to their side just as the lock melted through and fell to the floor with a loud clang. Looking through the bars, the Ranger could just make out a figure lying curled up in the floor, blond hair spread around his head like a halo.
"Legolas!" Aragorn pushed past the others into the cell, dropping to his knees beside the alarmingly still form of his friend. His eyes swept over the Elf's body and he gasped, a hand going to his mouth. ~Dear Iluvatar...~
Legolas's body was crisscrossed with white scars and angry red welts from Saruman's whips, magick, and other instruments of torture. His skin, normally pale, was an unhealthy shade of white. His clothes were tatters, much like Olvand's had been. His leg wound was covered with recently dried blood, as was his injured shoulder. His face was slightly flushed, and a sheen of sweat covered his forehead.
Tears filled his eyes. "Oh, Legolas," he sobbed, reaching down to stroke the Elf's face. "I'm so sorry..."
Boromir came to stand behind the Ranger, resheathing his sword. "Is he...dead?"
Aragorn shook his head. "No. He's alive. But he's hurt. Badly."
Ylana knelt by Legolas's other side. She placed a hand over his eyes and held it there for a moment. Then, with a sigh, she dropped it. "I know where he is," she said softly.
"Then get him," Boromir said urgently, glancing out of the cell anxiously. "Guards could be here at any moment."
The female Elf looked up at Aragorn, her expression deeply troubled. "Aragorn... I can't. I promised him I wouldn't go there again."
The Ranger reached across the still body of his friend to take her by the hand. "Ylana," he said softly. "You have to. If you don't, we'll lose him. He'll understand what you were doing. I promise that he won't be mad."
Ylana looked at him for a moment, then down at Legolas. Finally, after a long moment that seemed to Aragorn to stretch on forever, she let out a deep sigh and dropped Aragorn's hand. "All right," she said faintly. "I'll get him. But this may take awhile."
With that, she took a deep breath, sat back, and closed her eyes.
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Legolas stood on the balcony of his room, looking out at the entrance to Rivendell. A light breeze was blowing and, somewhere nearby, two birds were chittering at each other.
To the young prince, Rivendell felt just as much like home as Mirkwood did. All of his closest friends were here, and this is where he felt safe.
"Do you know," came a female voice from behind him, "that I sat in that tree and watched and every time you came to Rivendell?"
Legolas whirled around, eyes wide. He felt his heart leap with joy when he saw Ylana standing before him, a slight smile on her face.
"Ylana!" He raced forward and swept her up in his arms, feeling tears come to his eyes as he held her tight. It was so good to see her again!
She laughed as she hugged him back. "I was so worried about you!" she whispered. "I was afraid that we wouldn't get to you in time."
Legolas pulled away and held her at arms length, peering into her eyes. "Then I'm not dead?"
She laughed again and shook her head. "Nay, my dear friend. You're still alive...though I doubt that will be case much longer if we don't get you out of here."
The young prince turned away at these words, looking back out at the trees and sky. "I---I'm not sure I want to go back, Ylana," he said softly.
His female companion tilted her head to the side, a frown on he face. "Aragorn misses you terribly," she said softly. "You're the only thing he's thought about since you were taken. Can you really leave him? Why do you want to stay here?"
Legolas was silent for a long moment, thinking. He didn't want to tell her that, once back in the real world, he wouldn't be able to speak. He would be weak, a liability. But he had to. As afraid as he was, he couldn't stay here knowing that his dearest friend was waiting for him.
"Saruman took something from me," he said, looking at his feet. The trees. Anywhere but at her. "Something that is very dear to me. Something that I will need quite a bit in the real world."
No footfalls were heard, but a hand was suddenly placed on Legolas's shoulder. Ylana said nothing. Simply stood there, giving him silent support.
With a deep sigh, he turned around and forced himself to look her in the eye. "It was my voice, Ylana. He took my voice."
A sad look passed over her face, but all she said was "Ah. I see. And you think that not having a voice will hinder you?"
"I *know* it will! I won't be able to cry out a warning, or just sit and have a conversation." He lowered his gaze, but not before Ylana had caught the miserable look that was on his normally impassive face. "Besides, Gandalf and Aragorn are always talking about how much they love my voice. How much it lifts their spirits. They won't want me around now that I can no longer speak or sing."
A hand grasped his chin and forced him to look up into a pair of glittering silver eyes. "Legolas, listen to me," Ylana said, her voice soft but firm. "Aragorn and the others are not going to shun you because you can no longer speak. They care for you and are just anxious to have you back." She looked at him imploringly. "Please? We need you, Legolas. Aragorn needs you."
That made up his mind. He couldn't willingly stay here, knowing that people were counting on him. So he nodded. "I will go."
She smiled as she stepped back. "Thank you," she whispered. Then she held out a hand. "Shall we?"
Smiling in return, Legolas reached out and took her hand just as everything around them turned black.
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Boromir was pacing back and forth, stopping every now and then to glance over at the female Elf, who was still sitting by Legolas's side, eyes closed. It had been twenty minutes since she had left to find the prince, and he was beginning to get worried.
So, when she let out a gasp as her eyes flew open, he was by her side immediately. "Ylana!" he exclaimed, reaching out to catch her as she began to topple backwards. "Are you all right?"
She managed a small smile and a nod, but was more worried about catching her breath than anything else.
Aragorn didn't pay them any attention. He was focused on the blond Elf in front of him, who was beginning to stir. "Legolas?" he said softly, reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from his friend's face. "Wake up. It's me. It's Estel."
Legolas's eyes fluttered open, and he found himself staring up into a pair of tear-filled gray ones.
Aragorn smiled as a tear spilled down his cheek. ~He's going to be okay.~ "Welcome back, mellon-nin." (1)
Legolas reached up to place a hand on Aragorn's cheek. "Don't cry," he tried to say, then froze as no sound came out.
Aragorn reached out to cover the Elf's hand with his own, then frowned as his friend jerked away. "Legolas? What's wrong?"
"It's his voice," Ylana answered in a quiet tone. "Saruman's taken it. He can't speak."
Aragorn's eyes went wide with shock as he looked down at Legolas, who had turned away so that he wouldn't have to meet the Ranger's gaze. ~He can't speak...~
All during his life, the Man had always been able to be soothed by the sound of Legolas's voice. It could always lift his spirits and his heart, no matter what.
No more. That voice that Aragorn so loved, the one that could soothe him beyond peace, had been silenced.
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(1) mellon-nin-------------------------my friend
I'M OUT ON BREAK!!!! Whoo hoo! A whole month without school. Yay! I love college. No measly two weeks like high school. Heh..
To all my fellow POTC fanatics who went and bought the movie at midnight on Monday: rock on!!! I hope your copy isn't as worn out as mine.
Disclaimer: I don't own these guys. My brain is too fried to have ever come up with them. Wish I would've, though. Then I'd be rich....
The Silent Prince
Chapter 19: The Rescue
Slowly, almost reluctantly, Arien guided the Sun over the horizon. Another day had begun.
Ylana watched it with a feeling of restless anticipation. Today was the day they had been waiting for. Today was the day they would rescue Legolas.
She sat perched high in a tree, her silver eyes turned towards Orthanc, watching. Below here, Aragorn and Boromir were packing up camp while still discussing their plan of action. The Ranger had wanted to set out at the Sun's first light, but Ylana had argued that, today of all days, they would need to be at full strength. He had grumbled, but had agreed to eat a meager breakfast before setting out.
The tension and apprehension in the air was so thick that anyone of them could easily have sliced it with their blades. They were all afraid. Not just of what might happen to them, but what they would find waiting for them in the black tower.
But it didn't matter. Legolas was their friend, and they were going after him, no matter how scared they were.
They had stayed up late into the night, trying to figure out their best course of action. Finally, after finding flaws with every idea that came to them, they threw caution to the wind and had decided to simply storm the tower. Saruman was a wizard. They held no doubts that he would be aware of their presence the second they stepped foot into the ring surrounding Orthanc. If they had to fight their way to Legolas, then so be it.
Ylana had been restless, unable to get any sleep. She was the only one of the three who could feel the evil of the tower so acutely, and it caused her to be cagey, jumping at every little sound. So she had kept watch, prowling around the perimeter of their campsite, one eye always turned towards Orthanc.
Aragorn looked as though he couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten a decent amount of sleep. His cheeks were deeply sunken in. The rough stubble on his chin, always so carefully trimmed, was beginning to look suspiciously like a full grown beard. His eyes were bloodshot, and the rings under them that Ylana had noticed a few days ago were even darker. But every inch of him spoke of hope and determination. And that comforted the Elf to no end.
The two Men finally finished packing their things and began to prepare themselves for battle. Boromir had his sword, his shield, and his throwing knife at the ready. Aragorn carried his bow, quiver, and Anduril, as well as Legolas's two white-handled knives. Ylana had given them to him the night before, saying that Legolas would much rather receive them from his best friend rather than the girl he barely knew. The Ranger had blushed, but he'd taken them gratefully. Ylana herself had her own bow and quiver, with Dolinril hanging from her hip.
"All right," Aragorn said grimly once they were all ready. "Ylana! Let's go. It's time."
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~Today's the day.~
Legolas was lost somewhere in the back of his mind. He had delved so deep that he wasn't sure if anything---or anyone---would be able to pull him out. But he did know that, unless he managed to somehow get out the tower today, he would die. His spirit had already started to detach itself from his body. Soon he would fade, and his spirit would travel to the Halls of Mandos.
For some reason, this didn't bother the young prince as much as it had two days ago. Two days ago, he had been strong and brave and willing to fight. That was before his body had been broken, his voice taken, and his will shattered. Now he had resigned himself to his fate. The only regret he had was all of the things he'd left unsaid. Especially to Aragorn.
~At least I'll get to see my mother again,~ he thought as he walked around Rivendell. ~I've missed her so much. And I'll be able to meet Ylana's family! Especially Gallas, since she talked so much about him.~
A breeze blew through the city, brushing the Elf's hair back away from his face. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. ~It is so peaceful here... I wish I could stay here forever. I wonder what the Halls will be like? Glorfindel doesn't talk much about the time he spent there.~
After slaying the Balrog---and being slain himself---the Rivendell Elf had traveled to the resting place of the Elves over in Valinor. He had spent years there before the Valar had decided to send him back to Middle-Earth, a High Elf Lord. While he sometimes spoke of his stay there, he had not---as far as Legolas knew---sat down and fully described it to anyone.
Legolas only hoped that it wasn't because it was so bad that Glorfindel didn't want to remember it. The young prince had heard tell of the Halls, nothing very bad. But Glorfindel was the only one he'd ever met who'd actually been there.
Legolas opened his eyes and turned around, a smile brushing his lips. He was once again in the outdoor Council chamber. Earlier, he had sat in the same chair he'd occupied during the Council of Elrond, thinking. He wondered where the others were at the moment, wondered what they were doing.
Wondered if they even missed him.
~I wonder if Aragorn and Ylana are dead?~ came the sobering thought, chasing his smile away. ~I don't think Aragorn is. Something tells me I would have felt his death. But Ylana... She was just lying there, not moving. And I can't see the Orcs being merciful.~ He could feel the sting of tears in his eyes. ~When I get to the Halls, I will apologize to her. She should never have had to die for my sake.~
With a deep sigh, he walked back inside the Last Homely House. Elrond always kept a room for him, right next to Aragorn's, and he wanted to visit it one last time.
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Ylana was doing her best not to gag. The stench was horrible. The sharp, acrid smell of smoke mixed in with that of unwashed bodies and rotting meat was enough to make even those with stomachs of iron turn their nose away. Here, inside the ring of Isengard, there was no shortage of it.
The trio had been horrified by what they saw when they first entered the ring. Not a single tree was left standing, leaving what Boromir remembered as a lush forest a barren landscape. Chasms at least a thousand feet deep had been dug into the ground, scaffolding built along the edges to allow the Orcs to climb up and down. Smoke rose from the openings, leaving them to wonder what business the foul creatures could be up to.
Aragorn tightened his grip on his sword, swallowing a lump of fear that had suddenly arose in his throat. ~By the Valar, what is going on here?~
"I see very few Orcs above ground," Boromir whispered into the Ranger's ear. He, too, was holding tightly to his sword. "If we hurry, we might be able to make it into the tower before they get a chance to raise the cry."
Aragorn's gray eyes swept over the scene before him, realizing the Boromir was correct. Only a handful of Orcs wandered the grounds. These he knew to be Uruk-hai, for regular Orcs could not bear the sunlight.
"I agree. Ylana?" he said softly, turning to his Elvish companion who looked as though she'd rather be anywhere but there at the moment. "Do you think you can conjure up a distraction for us?"
"With pleasure," she responded as she unsheathed Dolinril and causing it to burst into flames. She aimed it at a part of the ring away from the entrance and spoke a quiet word. Though Boromir had witnessed the sword's power before, he still jumped as a bolt of fire leapt from the blade and struck the piece of wall Ylana had been aiming for.
Shouts arose as the Uruk-hai on guard rushed over to see the cause of the explosion. Aragorn had to smile.
"It's a good thing these creatures are as dim-witted as their cousins," he muttered. "Come! Now's our chance!"
Keeping their blades at the ready, the three pushed off from the bit of wall they had been pressed against for cover and dashed for the entrance of Orthanc. Ylana brought up the rear, ready to send a bolt of fire at anything unfriendly that came their way.
It was only a few feet for them to run, but, to Aragorn, it seemed as if it stretched on for miles. Finally, though, they were inside the tower, having run into no trouble at all.
This unsettled Boromir. "That was too easy," he murmured, glancing about an uneasily as though he expected Saruman himself to jump out at them at any moment. "Something must be going on."
"Quit being so negative," the Ranger growled. "Orcs can't stand the sunlight. That's why we chose to attack during the day, remember? The Uruks are more tolerant, which is why they were posted as guards. The rest must be below ground, or here inside the tower. Now, let's find those dungeons." His tone of voice left no room for questioning.
Boromir still didn't like it, but he knew better than to try and reason with Aragorn at this stage. Now that they were inside the tower, he would stop at nothing until Legolas had been found. "This way," the warrior said, starting down a dark corridor. "The entrance to the dungeons should be down here."
Ylana followed her two human companions warily, eyes constantly darting around. She could feel the evilness of the tower sinking into her flesh, filling her lungs, threatening to crush her heart. She couldn't see how anyone---or anything---could stand to live there. The sooner they found Legolas and got out of there, the better. She could only imagined what the prolonged stay had done to her friend.
Up ahead, Boromir was peering into rooms, checking locked doors, and muttering to himself. "Sure it was this way...On the left...Wooden door."
Aragorn glanced behind him to make sure that she was still following, and his face softened a bit at the sight of her and the obvious distress she was feeling. "Are you all right?" he asked softly.
"I am fine," she assured him with a brief smile. "It's just..." Ylana shuddered. "This place is terrible. It's suffocating me. I feel as though I won't be able to breath again until I am free of this tower."
'We'll be out of here soon," he murmured. 'I promise."
She nodded, but said nothing. She tightened her grip on Dolinril and shot a glance behind her, just to make sure that the eyes she felt watching them were indeed imaginary.
At the end of the corridor, Boromir had opened a door and was cautiously peeking into what lay beyond it. "Aragorn!" he called, his voice soft but urgent. "Quick. I've found it!"
The Ranger hurried forward, Ylana close behind, as Boromir stepped through the thick wooden door. Aragorn's skin was practically alive with a tingling sensation, and his heart was beating to rapidly he was afraid it would burst through his chest. They were getting close. He could feel it.
The corridor that Boromir now lead them down was lit by torches set in scones on the walls. The unwashed smell was even stronger here, and Ylana had to breathe through her mouth in order to keep from being violently sick. Moaning echoed throughout the place, twisting Aragorn's heart. He wished the he could free all of the prisoners, but also knew that that wouldn't be possible.
They began a systematic search of the dungeons, peering into every cell, hoping to find at least some sign of their missing companion. When they didn't, they would ask the prisoners. Some did nothing but stare. Some just screamed. The few who were lucid enough just shook their heads sadly. None of them could remember seeing an Elf.
Aragorn was beginning to despair. They had already searched one floor, and were halfway through another. Still no sign of Legolas. The Ranger began to wonder if his friend was even in the dungeons. ~Maybe Saruman's keeping him locked away somewhere else. In that case, we may never find him!~
He stopped at the next cell he came to and looked in through the bars. "Legolas?" he called softly. "Legolas, it's Estel. Are you in there?"
There was a slight rustling noise, and a bent figure stepped into the small pool of light that was cast by a torch. "Legolas?" came a voice, raspy from disuse. "There be no Legolas here, sonny. Name's Olvand."
Aragorn couldn't decide if he wanted to bang his head on the wall, or cry. "Pardon me. I'm looking for a friend of mine. An Elf. Have you seen him?"
The figure came close, and Aragorn was able to discern that it was an old man. He was rail thin, his clothes little more than rags. A long, angry scar ran down one side of his face, and he was missing an eye. "An Elf? Blond? Blue eyes? Tall? I've seen him."
Aragorn felt his heart do a somersault as he grasped the bars with both hands and pressed his face in closer. "You have?" he asked excitedly. "Where?"
"They've marched him past here twice a day for the past two days. He must be a strong lad. I could tell they were breaking him, but he always walked with his head held up high. Even when he was barely conscious."
"Then he's alive!" Aragorn felt weak with relief, and he would've fallen to the floor if he had not been gripping the bars.
"Aye. He was yesterday." A look of sadness passed over the old man's face. "But I wouldn't hold out much hope for him."
This caused Aragorn's head to snap up. "Why do you say that?"
Olvand nodded at a large, metal door at the end of the corridor. "Because they're keeping him down there. No one who stays on the third floor is around for very long. I hear that's where the stinkin' wizard likes to keep his 'playthings'."
"Not this time," the Ranger snarled as he pushed himself away from the bars, unsheathing Anduril. "Boromir! Ylana! He's on the third floor. Let's go!"
As the three hurried down the corridor, Olvand stuck his arm through the bars and raised it as in a blessing. "Good luck, my young friends," he said softly. "You'll need it."
None of the companions heard him. They quickly passed through the door and ran down the stairs that lead to the third level of dungeons. Both Boromir and Ylana had drawn their blades, and flames were licking Dolinril.
The first thing that Aragorn noticed about this floor was that it was clean. The stench of unclean bodies that had been so strong in the upper levels was now nearly non-existent. The bars were made of thick steel, not rusted iron. Lanterns decorated the walls rather than torches.
"Be on the lookout," Aragorn murmured, looking about warily. "He may have guards posted here."
The other two nodded in agreement before moving off. Aragorn peered into the first cell he came to. Empty. The second one. Empty. The third and fourth were the same.
He felt despair begin to rise in him again. ~Olvand said that people that were put down here weren't around for very long. What if he's been turned into an Orc? What if he's dead and I've just been too worried to feel it? No! I can't---~
"Aragorn! Hurry. I've found him!"
At the sound of Ylana's cry, Aragorn raced forward, heart pounding. ~He's alive. Thank Iluvatar, he's alive!~
Rounding a corner, he saw Ylana standing in front of a cell, sword held out strait in front of her, a steady stream of hot fire pouring into the lock. Boromir stood behind her, one hand on the Elf's shoulder, anxiously peering forward.
Aragorn came to their side just as the lock melted through and fell to the floor with a loud clang. Looking through the bars, the Ranger could just make out a figure lying curled up in the floor, blond hair spread around his head like a halo.
"Legolas!" Aragorn pushed past the others into the cell, dropping to his knees beside the alarmingly still form of his friend. His eyes swept over the Elf's body and he gasped, a hand going to his mouth. ~Dear Iluvatar...~
Legolas's body was crisscrossed with white scars and angry red welts from Saruman's whips, magick, and other instruments of torture. His skin, normally pale, was an unhealthy shade of white. His clothes were tatters, much like Olvand's had been. His leg wound was covered with recently dried blood, as was his injured shoulder. His face was slightly flushed, and a sheen of sweat covered his forehead.
Tears filled his eyes. "Oh, Legolas," he sobbed, reaching down to stroke the Elf's face. "I'm so sorry..."
Boromir came to stand behind the Ranger, resheathing his sword. "Is he...dead?"
Aragorn shook his head. "No. He's alive. But he's hurt. Badly."
Ylana knelt by Legolas's other side. She placed a hand over his eyes and held it there for a moment. Then, with a sigh, she dropped it. "I know where he is," she said softly.
"Then get him," Boromir said urgently, glancing out of the cell anxiously. "Guards could be here at any moment."
The female Elf looked up at Aragorn, her expression deeply troubled. "Aragorn... I can't. I promised him I wouldn't go there again."
The Ranger reached across the still body of his friend to take her by the hand. "Ylana," he said softly. "You have to. If you don't, we'll lose him. He'll understand what you were doing. I promise that he won't be mad."
Ylana looked at him for a moment, then down at Legolas. Finally, after a long moment that seemed to Aragorn to stretch on forever, she let out a deep sigh and dropped Aragorn's hand. "All right," she said faintly. "I'll get him. But this may take awhile."
With that, she took a deep breath, sat back, and closed her eyes.
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Legolas stood on the balcony of his room, looking out at the entrance to Rivendell. A light breeze was blowing and, somewhere nearby, two birds were chittering at each other.
To the young prince, Rivendell felt just as much like home as Mirkwood did. All of his closest friends were here, and this is where he felt safe.
"Do you know," came a female voice from behind him, "that I sat in that tree and watched and every time you came to Rivendell?"
Legolas whirled around, eyes wide. He felt his heart leap with joy when he saw Ylana standing before him, a slight smile on her face.
"Ylana!" He raced forward and swept her up in his arms, feeling tears come to his eyes as he held her tight. It was so good to see her again!
She laughed as she hugged him back. "I was so worried about you!" she whispered. "I was afraid that we wouldn't get to you in time."
Legolas pulled away and held her at arms length, peering into her eyes. "Then I'm not dead?"
She laughed again and shook her head. "Nay, my dear friend. You're still alive...though I doubt that will be case much longer if we don't get you out of here."
The young prince turned away at these words, looking back out at the trees and sky. "I---I'm not sure I want to go back, Ylana," he said softly.
His female companion tilted her head to the side, a frown on he face. "Aragorn misses you terribly," she said softly. "You're the only thing he's thought about since you were taken. Can you really leave him? Why do you want to stay here?"
Legolas was silent for a long moment, thinking. He didn't want to tell her that, once back in the real world, he wouldn't be able to speak. He would be weak, a liability. But he had to. As afraid as he was, he couldn't stay here knowing that his dearest friend was waiting for him.
"Saruman took something from me," he said, looking at his feet. The trees. Anywhere but at her. "Something that is very dear to me. Something that I will need quite a bit in the real world."
No footfalls were heard, but a hand was suddenly placed on Legolas's shoulder. Ylana said nothing. Simply stood there, giving him silent support.
With a deep sigh, he turned around and forced himself to look her in the eye. "It was my voice, Ylana. He took my voice."
A sad look passed over her face, but all she said was "Ah. I see. And you think that not having a voice will hinder you?"
"I *know* it will! I won't be able to cry out a warning, or just sit and have a conversation." He lowered his gaze, but not before Ylana had caught the miserable look that was on his normally impassive face. "Besides, Gandalf and Aragorn are always talking about how much they love my voice. How much it lifts their spirits. They won't want me around now that I can no longer speak or sing."
A hand grasped his chin and forced him to look up into a pair of glittering silver eyes. "Legolas, listen to me," Ylana said, her voice soft but firm. "Aragorn and the others are not going to shun you because you can no longer speak. They care for you and are just anxious to have you back." She looked at him imploringly. "Please? We need you, Legolas. Aragorn needs you."
That made up his mind. He couldn't willingly stay here, knowing that people were counting on him. So he nodded. "I will go."
She smiled as she stepped back. "Thank you," she whispered. Then she held out a hand. "Shall we?"
Smiling in return, Legolas reached out and took her hand just as everything around them turned black.
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Boromir was pacing back and forth, stopping every now and then to glance over at the female Elf, who was still sitting by Legolas's side, eyes closed. It had been twenty minutes since she had left to find the prince, and he was beginning to get worried.
So, when she let out a gasp as her eyes flew open, he was by her side immediately. "Ylana!" he exclaimed, reaching out to catch her as she began to topple backwards. "Are you all right?"
She managed a small smile and a nod, but was more worried about catching her breath than anything else.
Aragorn didn't pay them any attention. He was focused on the blond Elf in front of him, who was beginning to stir. "Legolas?" he said softly, reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from his friend's face. "Wake up. It's me. It's Estel."
Legolas's eyes fluttered open, and he found himself staring up into a pair of tear-filled gray ones.
Aragorn smiled as a tear spilled down his cheek. ~He's going to be okay.~ "Welcome back, mellon-nin." (1)
Legolas reached up to place a hand on Aragorn's cheek. "Don't cry," he tried to say, then froze as no sound came out.
Aragorn reached out to cover the Elf's hand with his own, then frowned as his friend jerked away. "Legolas? What's wrong?"
"It's his voice," Ylana answered in a quiet tone. "Saruman's taken it. He can't speak."
Aragorn's eyes went wide with shock as he looked down at Legolas, who had turned away so that he wouldn't have to meet the Ranger's gaze. ~He can't speak...~
All during his life, the Man had always been able to be soothed by the sound of Legolas's voice. It could always lift his spirits and his heart, no matter what.
No more. That voice that Aragorn so loved, the one that could soothe him beyond peace, had been silenced.
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(1) mellon-nin-------------------------my friend