As always, thank you to all of those who reviewed. You guys are the best!
A very Merry Christmas to all---and a Blessed Yule to all fellow Wiccans. Hope everyone got lots of LOTR stuff. I've been playing Lord of the Rings checkers every five minutes.
A little teensy weensy hint of slash.
Disclaimer: I want to make a sincere apology to Professor Tolkien for what I am doing to his wonderful masterpeice. When I am dead, he can torture me all he wants. For now, I'm borrowing them for a bit of fun.
The Silent Prince
Chapter 20: Thicker than Water
Aragorn couldn't find any words to say. It felt like his tounge was stuck to the roof of his mouth. His mind had been shocked into immobility.
Legolas desperatly wished he could force himself back into his mind. He couldn't stand the look on Aragorn's face. It was tearing his heart to pieces.
Across the room, Ylana, with Boromir's help, was struggling to her feet. "We've got to get out of here quickly," she said firmly. "If we don't, he will die. Legolas, can you walk?"
The Elf shook his head no. He didn't even try to stand and walk for pride's sake. He was helpless, and, as much as he hated it, he knew it. His body would no longer obey him, and anything beyond the slightest of movements caused him pain. Besides, his leg wound wouldn't support his weight.
"Fine. Aragorn, carry him." Her tone left no room for questioning.
He didn't move, didn't blink. He just continued to look at Legolas, who now looked thouroghly miserable.
"*Aragorn!*"
The human snapped back to reality and, as he blinked at Legolas, all his fears were swept away by an overwhelming sense of concern for his friend.
"I'm going to be as careful as I can," he said softly, gently sliding his hands underneath Legolas's shoulders and knees. "Tell me if I hurt you, okay?"
The Elf nodded, giving Aragorn a brief smile. With an answering nod, the human got to his feet, cradeling his injured friend in his arms. "All right. We're ready."
Ylana was already at the door of the cell, peering out. "Boromir, you lead us back out of here. I'll bring up the rear."
Legolas had to smile at that. ~Guess that whack on the head didn't hurt her very much,~ he thought. ~She's still bossy.~
"I still don't like this," Boromir muttered as he stepped back out into the corridor. "Saruman *has* to know that we are here by now."
Legolas wanted to laugh. ~Of course he knows,~ the Elf thought miserably. ~But he wants you to escape with me. It's all part of his plan. His and Annolir's.~
"It doesn't matter," Aragorn said fiercely, stpping out behind his human companion. "We've got to get out of here, and quickly. Legolas has been hurt badley. I must tend to his wounds."
Legolas felt a warm, pleasant tingling spread throught his body. To hear that Aragorn was worried for him, didn't care that he could no longer speak... And he felt so safe in the Man's arms.
Boromir shrugged, then said no more as he lead them back up through the two levels of dungeons to the main floor. Most of the prisoners were silent, staring at them in awe. A few called out to be released, some gasped, and one---Aragron was almost sure that it was Olvand---let out a cheer.
Soon, they were back at the entrance to the tower. After checking to make sure that no Orcs were about, they dashed across the ground and were soon hurrying away from Isengard.
---------------------------------------
High up in the tower, Saruman stood in his private audience chamber, staring out the window at the two humans and two Elves as they made their way back into the forest.
He allowed himself a smile as he turned to face his two companions. "Well, it seems as if our plan is going quite well."
Annolir, his arms crossed over his chest, looked none too pleased. "Didn't you cut it a little too close?" he asked icily. "He was almost dead. How can you be sure he won't die on the journey back to Terin? Neither Estel nor the cursed girl are reknowned healers. What if they can't save him?"
"And who are you to question one of the Istari?" came the voice of the hooded and cloaked figure who stood next to the Elf prince. The voice was crips, dnagerous, and definetly female. "He says that your brother will reach Terin alive, and so he will."
The Elf scowled. "How can you be so sure we can trust him?"
From deep within the shadows of the hood came a smile. "Well, seeing as he is the one who hasn't betrayed his own brother out of jealousy, I'd say I'd trust his word over yours."
Annolir opened his mouth to answer, but sopped when Saruman raised a hand for silence. "Peace, my friends! I understand your fears, Prince Lightbringer, and they are well grounded. But I can assure you that you're brother *will* live. His friends will make sure of that.
"As for *you*, my dear Aislyn---" Here he turned to the hooded figure. "I thank you for your trust and support. But you must understand that we are not all as dedicated to our families as you are. Which, I must say, is a shame."
Annolir's scowl deepened, and Aislyn offered the wizard a bow. "Aplogies, my lord."
Saruman waved his hand in a dismissive gesture as he walked back over to his grwat, stone chair and sat down. "Now, back to our plan..."
"I still don't understand why you don't just let them through Terin," Annolir iterrupted. "They'll have to pass through Southern Mirkwood, close to Dol Gulder. You can get the Ring then."
The wizard turned his gaze on the Elf, who immeaditly fell silent. "My dear prince, your part in this Act of the play is over. All that's left for you to do is go back to your home and act as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened."
Annolir's eyes smoldered, but he offered Saruman a curt bow. "As you wish, my Lord," he said stiffly. Then he turned and strode out of the room, green traveling cloak trailing out behind him.
Aislyn watched him go with a sneer on her face. "I don't know why you insist on dealing with Elves," she said, drawing back her hood to reveal long, white hair and eyes the color of burnished gold. "They are nothing but trouble. And he moreso. I wouldn't trust anyone who would betray a member of his family. Especially for something so trival."
The wizard laughed. "He has his uses, I assure you. But don't worry, my dear. He's depending on you too much. Once our spell is set, it is a sure thing that King Thranduil will travel to Rivendell with his sick. After all, it has been awhile since he has seen his lover, Lord Elrond. Plus, Legolas shall be there. Along with the rest of the Fellowship. It is also a sure bet that he will leave Annolir in charge of Mirkwood. So we all get what we want. Our Prince Lightbringer gets his father's throne, you can take your revenge on the Elves, and I'll get the Ring of Power."
The girl had a thoughtful look on her face. "And, in order for all this to happen, I only have to keep the wizard and his companions from passing through the mountains passes at Terin?"
Saruman nodded. "That's all you have to do. Once that is accomplished, I'll help you cast the spell to make a certain number of Elves fall ill. They, along with many of the healthy ones, will travel to Rivendell. There, you can kill the healthy ones however you want, and leave the others to die a slow, painful death."
"And my father will be avenged." Her voice was soft, almost sad.
"And your father will be avenged." Saruman leaned forward, fixing her with his stare. "But there is one thing that you must remember, Aislyn. One thing that is very important. Once the spell has been set, you cannot---cannot!---use strong magicks. If you do, it will drain your strength and the spell will falter. Do you understand?"
She nodded. "Clearly, my Lord. I will not let you down. When should I leave?"
Saruman sat back, a smile on his face. "Oh, we'll give them a few days. It'll take them awhile to get back to Terin. And I'm sure they will wait a few days before leaving, giving Legolas time to heal. We'll give them enough time to feel safe, to let their guard down. Then we'll attack."
Aislyn bowed. "As you wish, my Lord. I shall be in my chambers, awaiting your command." Straitning, she pulled her hood back over her head and walked through the same doors that Annolir had departed through.
Saruman sat there, lost in thought as he wondered about the events going on around him and the people who would play key parts. Especially in his own little drama.
Annolir was annoying, albeit helpful. He had come to Saruman, full of rage, begging for the wizard's help in taking revenge against his meddlesome younger brother. Saruman agreed, but only when he realized that this would help his plans to acquire the Ring, not to mention strike a greivious blow to Gandalf. In return, Annolir offered the use of Mirkwood's army---a force not to be reckoned with---should Saruman ever need one. All in all, Saruman thought he'd gotten the better end of the deal.
As for Aislyn...Well, she was a rare find, indeed!
Aislyn was the opposite of Annolir in so many ways. She was the daughter of the Witch-King of Angmar, who was now the lead Ringwraith. All her life, she had been taught that blood was thicker than water. That family came first. So, when her father fell to the Shadow of the Enemy, Aislyn bound herself to him, using the magick that all inhabitents of that wicked country possessed. She swore to take revenge on the Elves, who she blamed for her father's condition. She believed that, when Sauron disguised himself as an Elf in order to learn how to make the Rings, the Elves should have been able to see through the trickery.
But she never got her chance to take her revenge before Sauron fell at Isildur's hand. So aislyn, like her father, had lain dormant for three thousand years. Now she was awake and, with Saruman's help, would have her revenge.
The girl was indeed powerful, but not powerful enough to cast a major spell. So Saruman had told her that he would help her cast a spell on anumber of Elves, making them ill. He had no doubt that they would all be taken to Rivendell, for Lord Elrond was the most reknowned Healer in Middle-Earth. Once there, she could systamatically kill those still syanding, and leave the sick ones to die. All he asked in return was that she keep the Fellowship from passing through the passes at Terin and, once they got to Rivendell---for Legolas was one of his intended targets---kill them, take the Ring, and bring it back to him.
Yes, things were going well.
Saruman once again left his seat and walked over to his window, peering out into the noontime sun. Legolas and his rescuers could no longer be seen, but Saruman could feel their presence. They were close by, but getting fainter by the second.
"Run along, my young ones," he said softly, a hald smile on his face. "Run back to Gandalf. Congraulate yourself on saving your friend's life. It doesn't matter. Soon, you'll all be dead. And the Ring will be mine!"
A very Merry Christmas to all---and a Blessed Yule to all fellow Wiccans. Hope everyone got lots of LOTR stuff. I've been playing Lord of the Rings checkers every five minutes.
A little teensy weensy hint of slash.
Disclaimer: I want to make a sincere apology to Professor Tolkien for what I am doing to his wonderful masterpeice. When I am dead, he can torture me all he wants. For now, I'm borrowing them for a bit of fun.
The Silent Prince
Chapter 20: Thicker than Water
Aragorn couldn't find any words to say. It felt like his tounge was stuck to the roof of his mouth. His mind had been shocked into immobility.
Legolas desperatly wished he could force himself back into his mind. He couldn't stand the look on Aragorn's face. It was tearing his heart to pieces.
Across the room, Ylana, with Boromir's help, was struggling to her feet. "We've got to get out of here quickly," she said firmly. "If we don't, he will die. Legolas, can you walk?"
The Elf shook his head no. He didn't even try to stand and walk for pride's sake. He was helpless, and, as much as he hated it, he knew it. His body would no longer obey him, and anything beyond the slightest of movements caused him pain. Besides, his leg wound wouldn't support his weight.
"Fine. Aragorn, carry him." Her tone left no room for questioning.
He didn't move, didn't blink. He just continued to look at Legolas, who now looked thouroghly miserable.
"*Aragorn!*"
The human snapped back to reality and, as he blinked at Legolas, all his fears were swept away by an overwhelming sense of concern for his friend.
"I'm going to be as careful as I can," he said softly, gently sliding his hands underneath Legolas's shoulders and knees. "Tell me if I hurt you, okay?"
The Elf nodded, giving Aragorn a brief smile. With an answering nod, the human got to his feet, cradeling his injured friend in his arms. "All right. We're ready."
Ylana was already at the door of the cell, peering out. "Boromir, you lead us back out of here. I'll bring up the rear."
Legolas had to smile at that. ~Guess that whack on the head didn't hurt her very much,~ he thought. ~She's still bossy.~
"I still don't like this," Boromir muttered as he stepped back out into the corridor. "Saruman *has* to know that we are here by now."
Legolas wanted to laugh. ~Of course he knows,~ the Elf thought miserably. ~But he wants you to escape with me. It's all part of his plan. His and Annolir's.~
"It doesn't matter," Aragorn said fiercely, stpping out behind his human companion. "We've got to get out of here, and quickly. Legolas has been hurt badley. I must tend to his wounds."
Legolas felt a warm, pleasant tingling spread throught his body. To hear that Aragorn was worried for him, didn't care that he could no longer speak... And he felt so safe in the Man's arms.
Boromir shrugged, then said no more as he lead them back up through the two levels of dungeons to the main floor. Most of the prisoners were silent, staring at them in awe. A few called out to be released, some gasped, and one---Aragron was almost sure that it was Olvand---let out a cheer.
Soon, they were back at the entrance to the tower. After checking to make sure that no Orcs were about, they dashed across the ground and were soon hurrying away from Isengard.
---------------------------------------
High up in the tower, Saruman stood in his private audience chamber, staring out the window at the two humans and two Elves as they made their way back into the forest.
He allowed himself a smile as he turned to face his two companions. "Well, it seems as if our plan is going quite well."
Annolir, his arms crossed over his chest, looked none too pleased. "Didn't you cut it a little too close?" he asked icily. "He was almost dead. How can you be sure he won't die on the journey back to Terin? Neither Estel nor the cursed girl are reknowned healers. What if they can't save him?"
"And who are you to question one of the Istari?" came the voice of the hooded and cloaked figure who stood next to the Elf prince. The voice was crips, dnagerous, and definetly female. "He says that your brother will reach Terin alive, and so he will."
The Elf scowled. "How can you be so sure we can trust him?"
From deep within the shadows of the hood came a smile. "Well, seeing as he is the one who hasn't betrayed his own brother out of jealousy, I'd say I'd trust his word over yours."
Annolir opened his mouth to answer, but sopped when Saruman raised a hand for silence. "Peace, my friends! I understand your fears, Prince Lightbringer, and they are well grounded. But I can assure you that you're brother *will* live. His friends will make sure of that.
"As for *you*, my dear Aislyn---" Here he turned to the hooded figure. "I thank you for your trust and support. But you must understand that we are not all as dedicated to our families as you are. Which, I must say, is a shame."
Annolir's scowl deepened, and Aislyn offered the wizard a bow. "Aplogies, my lord."
Saruman waved his hand in a dismissive gesture as he walked back over to his grwat, stone chair and sat down. "Now, back to our plan..."
"I still don't understand why you don't just let them through Terin," Annolir iterrupted. "They'll have to pass through Southern Mirkwood, close to Dol Gulder. You can get the Ring then."
The wizard turned his gaze on the Elf, who immeaditly fell silent. "My dear prince, your part in this Act of the play is over. All that's left for you to do is go back to your home and act as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened."
Annolir's eyes smoldered, but he offered Saruman a curt bow. "As you wish, my Lord," he said stiffly. Then he turned and strode out of the room, green traveling cloak trailing out behind him.
Aislyn watched him go with a sneer on her face. "I don't know why you insist on dealing with Elves," she said, drawing back her hood to reveal long, white hair and eyes the color of burnished gold. "They are nothing but trouble. And he moreso. I wouldn't trust anyone who would betray a member of his family. Especially for something so trival."
The wizard laughed. "He has his uses, I assure you. But don't worry, my dear. He's depending on you too much. Once our spell is set, it is a sure thing that King Thranduil will travel to Rivendell with his sick. After all, it has been awhile since he has seen his lover, Lord Elrond. Plus, Legolas shall be there. Along with the rest of the Fellowship. It is also a sure bet that he will leave Annolir in charge of Mirkwood. So we all get what we want. Our Prince Lightbringer gets his father's throne, you can take your revenge on the Elves, and I'll get the Ring of Power."
The girl had a thoughtful look on her face. "And, in order for all this to happen, I only have to keep the wizard and his companions from passing through the mountains passes at Terin?"
Saruman nodded. "That's all you have to do. Once that is accomplished, I'll help you cast the spell to make a certain number of Elves fall ill. They, along with many of the healthy ones, will travel to Rivendell. There, you can kill the healthy ones however you want, and leave the others to die a slow, painful death."
"And my father will be avenged." Her voice was soft, almost sad.
"And your father will be avenged." Saruman leaned forward, fixing her with his stare. "But there is one thing that you must remember, Aislyn. One thing that is very important. Once the spell has been set, you cannot---cannot!---use strong magicks. If you do, it will drain your strength and the spell will falter. Do you understand?"
She nodded. "Clearly, my Lord. I will not let you down. When should I leave?"
Saruman sat back, a smile on his face. "Oh, we'll give them a few days. It'll take them awhile to get back to Terin. And I'm sure they will wait a few days before leaving, giving Legolas time to heal. We'll give them enough time to feel safe, to let their guard down. Then we'll attack."
Aislyn bowed. "As you wish, my Lord. I shall be in my chambers, awaiting your command." Straitning, she pulled her hood back over her head and walked through the same doors that Annolir had departed through.
Saruman sat there, lost in thought as he wondered about the events going on around him and the people who would play key parts. Especially in his own little drama.
Annolir was annoying, albeit helpful. He had come to Saruman, full of rage, begging for the wizard's help in taking revenge against his meddlesome younger brother. Saruman agreed, but only when he realized that this would help his plans to acquire the Ring, not to mention strike a greivious blow to Gandalf. In return, Annolir offered the use of Mirkwood's army---a force not to be reckoned with---should Saruman ever need one. All in all, Saruman thought he'd gotten the better end of the deal.
As for Aislyn...Well, she was a rare find, indeed!
Aislyn was the opposite of Annolir in so many ways. She was the daughter of the Witch-King of Angmar, who was now the lead Ringwraith. All her life, she had been taught that blood was thicker than water. That family came first. So, when her father fell to the Shadow of the Enemy, Aislyn bound herself to him, using the magick that all inhabitents of that wicked country possessed. She swore to take revenge on the Elves, who she blamed for her father's condition. She believed that, when Sauron disguised himself as an Elf in order to learn how to make the Rings, the Elves should have been able to see through the trickery.
But she never got her chance to take her revenge before Sauron fell at Isildur's hand. So aislyn, like her father, had lain dormant for three thousand years. Now she was awake and, with Saruman's help, would have her revenge.
The girl was indeed powerful, but not powerful enough to cast a major spell. So Saruman had told her that he would help her cast a spell on anumber of Elves, making them ill. He had no doubt that they would all be taken to Rivendell, for Lord Elrond was the most reknowned Healer in Middle-Earth. Once there, she could systamatically kill those still syanding, and leave the sick ones to die. All he asked in return was that she keep the Fellowship from passing through the passes at Terin and, once they got to Rivendell---for Legolas was one of his intended targets---kill them, take the Ring, and bring it back to him.
Yes, things were going well.
Saruman once again left his seat and walked over to his window, peering out into the noontime sun. Legolas and his rescuers could no longer be seen, but Saruman could feel their presence. They were close by, but getting fainter by the second.
"Run along, my young ones," he said softly, a hald smile on his face. "Run back to Gandalf. Congraulate yourself on saving your friend's life. It doesn't matter. Soon, you'll all be dead. And the Ring will be mine!"