((A/N: Just in case the first chapter's disclaimer was as garbled to you as
it was to me, here it is again. I own nothing and no one...except my ideas.
Those are all mine, thankies kindly. This chapter has implied (nothing
explicit) rape. If this troubles you, please don't read. Thanks to all my
reviewers, replies are on the bottom of this chapter.))
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Chapter 2
Legolas' inner clock had just informed him of the sun's rising outside when Aragorn woke to the sounds of heavy footsteps. Immediately, the Man sprang to his feet to join the Elf, who was already standing in a crouched position, ready for whatever might come through that door.
The heavy door swung open slowly, and a small group of men entered, keeping their weapons trained on the tense beings inside. The same tiny Man that had been the leader on the way down entered behind the other men, and he sneered up at the two.
Legolas, considerably calmer than he had been the day before, looked derisively down at the small Man and considered various ways to kill him.
"Have a good sleep, poppets?" The Man had an incredibly whiney voice that grated on both males' nerves as they listened. "I hope you did, for today the fun begins."
At those words, both the Man and the Elf tensed, stepping into ready stances and waiting for anyone to make the first move. "Take them, men!" ordered the tiny Man as he stepped back.
'Coward,' was the only thought Legolas had time for as the men came at the two friends. Moving back-to-back, Aragorn and Legolas fought off all attackers as they came, ducking blows and lashing out sharply. But there were too many of them, and soon the friends were overwhelmed and flung to the ground. Their fighting spirit earned them a set of shackles on their ankles, and Legolas winced as the men attached them much too tight about his slim anklebones.
Spears poking their backs, the friends were forced down the hall at a quick trot. Legolas whispered to Aragorn, "So much for that, eh?"
Aragorn just nodded, trying to breathe.
At last, they reached a large room where the two beings were flung to their knees. Legolas' proud spirit made him try and struggle off his knees, but all that earned him was a smack across the back of the head and someone heavy standing on the chain that linked his ankles together.
Aragorn's quick eyes darted around, trying to see into the shadows cast by the flickering torches stuck into sconces on the walls. The room was larger than he had guessed at first, and at the front of the room was sort of a raised dais on which sat a throne carved from bones. The room was full of Corsair men, all holding weapons of some sort. On the bone throne sat a huge Man, almost too big for the throne, with long jet-black hair braided back off his face and a long mangy beard.
He stood up slowly and assessed the two kneeling beings. Both of their heads were up proudly, anger flashing from the eyes of the golden haired one and quiet fury rumbled in the ones of the former Captain of Gondor.
"Remember me, Thorongil?" he asked, stopping in front of the friends.
Aragorn met the dark eyes examining him. A spark of memory flashed in his eyes, but he couldn't quite place how he knew this Man. Then, he remembered. The night of the Corsair attack, the leader had engaged in single combat with Aragorn, delaying the human until Aragorn had been forced to run the Man through. Though starlight and flickering torchlight had been the only lights, the face of the Man had been burned in his memory forever. That face now looked down at him.
"But you died!" Aragorn said, his tone incredulous.
"Had I known I would be interfering with the meeting of old friends..." Legolas' mutter was barely audible, but the guard on his leg chains heard and stopped his words with a sharp punch in the shoulder blade. Legolas hissed in soft pain as he doubled forward.
"No, Thorongil. You missed the vital organs and I saw a healer shortly afterwards. I lived." The Man pointedly ignored Legolas' comment, though he was too close to not have heard it. "I lived with the pain for months, lived with the fear that I was going to die every second, lived with the hate of the Man who put me in that position. And now you, Thorongil, you will live through everything you put me through. You will beg for death, but I will not be that merciful. You will beg for coolness to soothe the fire, but relief will not come."
Aragorn continued to meet the Corsair's eyes, no fear showing in his. Legolas, however, could feel the Man's muscles tense beside him in silent fear.
The Corsair leader waited long for any reaction. When none came, the Corsair looked at the fair being beside Aragorn, noted the fearful defiance and the proud set of his jaw. The Corsair had never seen anything quite like the fair being in front of him, and he stared long at him. Legolas' golden hair seemed to shine in the torchlight and light seemed to shimmer about his skin. The torchlight illuminated his pale skin, rippling in jagged patterns and glittering in his angry eyes.
"And what are you?" asked the Corsair rhetorically. He walked slowly to stand directly in front of the Elf. Legolas' eyes followed the Man, but his head didn't move. "Are you some witch-breed of human?" Bending a bit, the Corsair touched the tip of Legolas' right ear.
Legolas flinched away before he could help himself. The ears were very sensitive places for Elves, and to touch one without the owner's permission...it was very dangerous. If Legolas had had his bow, it would have gone ill for the Man. As it was, the Prince firmed his jaw and glared up at the Man.
The Corsair leader noted the flinch and the defiant stare that followed it. "I see," he murmured. "Breaking you will be very interesting."
"You could *try*," Legolas said coldly. "Better men than you have tried. They now stand before the judgment seat of Mandos, answering for their deeds."
"The only seat you need be concerned with, filthy Elf, is the seat I sit on, for it is your judgment seat this day," replied the Man with a humorless smile.
"Then I have naught to fear. You can force my body to kneel. You can even kill this body. But my spirit will remain unbroken." The quiet assurance in Legolas' eyes outweighed the fear that lingered there.
"We shall see, Elf. We shall see." There was no smile this time: only a cold anger.
Aragorn was amazed. Even here, trapped beneath thousands of tons of rocks, in a living nightmare, Legolas was sure of himself. That surety won over even the deepest-rooted fear and gave the Elf a quiet eloquence that none could contradict.
The Corsair leader turned to his men, breaking the gaze between himself and Legolas first. He snapped something in their rough tongue. The exact meaning remained a mystery to both friends, but the gist of it became clear as half the men grabbed Legolas and chained him to two convenient sconces beside the throne.
Aragorn started to rise, concerned for his friend, but several guards smashed him in the back all at once, driving him back to his knees with a painful grunt. The Corsair leader smiled again, moving to stand in front of the Elf.
Legolas' wrists were bleeding sluggishly as he tried to hold still in his bonds. He was chained just fair enough above the floor that his toes barely touched the floor, and he stretched, trying to relieve the pressure on his wrists. 'This is far too much like it was in Mordor,' he muttered mentally, managing to get purchase on the floor.
"Hurts, doesn't it, Elf?" The Corsair's voice was coolly nonchalant. "Luckily for you, for the time being, this is the worst pain you will feel. Your Gondorian friend will take the brunt of this for now."
Legolas' eyes flashed. Quick as lighting, he jerked himself up by the wrists, ignoring the stabbing pain, and kicked the Man with all his strength in the stomach. The kick literally drove the Corsair off his feet and flung him backwards into one of his men; no small feat, given how big he was. Legolas was unable to stifle a tiny whimper as his feet came to rest on the floor again.
Getting up, the Corsair stormed over to Legolas. He stood at an angle that the Elf couldn't reach with his feet and smashed the elf across the face with his balled fist again and again. Legolas didn't duck his head, taking the abuse with a calm, steady glare.
The Corsair backed away and stared at the Elf. Even with one eye swelling and trickles of blood running from his lips and nose, Legolas looked unbelievably regal, and the Corsair was afraid.
Turning away, the Corsair was confronted with the equally level, angry glare from the former Captain of Gondor. Aragorn was not at all pleased with what the Corsair had just done to his friend, and he let his eyes say everything his mouth did not dare to.
The Corsair attempted a nonchalant sneer, but the other Man's calm glare scared him more than he wanted to admit. The Corsair walked until he stood behind the Gondorian and drew a knife from his belt. Aragorn tensed as he felt the blade touch the back of his neck, but forced himself to relax. Fear clawed at the back of his throat, but he refused to give expression to it. 'These monsters live off of fear,' he reminded himself as the knife dug deep enough to bring out a single drop of blood.
The Corsair frowned at the Gondorian's refusal to respond to the small amount of pain he was giving him. Removing the knife from the flesh, the leader cut one long, jagged cut down the back of Aragorn's tunic, letting it hang from his bound wrists.
Aragorn's well muscled back was tanned from summer swimming and hunting, even though it was now fall. Old scars wrapped around his ribs and back to join with the newer bruises from the chain the day before.
Pacing back and forth, the Corsair played with a leather thong that protruded from his belt. "Are you familiar with how we Corsairs handle slaves, Thorongil?"
Aragorn did know, but he refused to say anything to this Man. His jaw knotted stubbornly as he locked eyes with Legolas. The Elf looked back, faint pain showing in his eyes, but concern outweighed the pain.
"No? Then I suppose I will have to educate you," the Corsair smirked, pulling out the leather thong. Legolas, watching the Corsair leader with eyes that burned with silent anger, saw it for what it was; a whip. His eyes went very narrow. Aragorn caught the look, and guessed what was going on.
Even so, shock played over his features as a line of fire drew down his back. Pain glinted in his eyes, but he clenched his jaw, refusing to give voice to the pain.
Irritated by the Captain's stubbornness, the Corsair flicked the lash more brutally over Aragorn's back.
The cycle of lashes and stubborn silences continued for some time more, until at last the lashes were too much for the young Man and he gasped in pain at each lash. The gasp rose to a moan, and, when the Corsair was not satisfied with that, a cry of pain.
The Corsair grinned, showing half-rotted teeth, as he continued to bring the lash onto the already ripped back. "You lasted longer than many others, Captain Thorongil," he admitted, pausing in his lashing for a moment.
Aragorn closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing as the Corsair continued, "Most cry out after the first five, some survive until the first ten, then cry out. I wonder...is your Elven friend stronger or weaker than you?" With those words, the Corsair's dark eyes rose to take in Legolas.
The glowing figure was obviously angry, judging by the flashing fire in his eyes and the expression of promise that he leveled on the Corsair leader. But the Corsair noted other things; the thin line of blood on the Elf's lips where he had bitten through the skin, the rivulets of blood trickling from his chaffed wrists, testifying to the silent struggles with the chains.
Walking to stand in front of the Elf, the Corsair looked deep into the defiant blue eyes. He saw what the Elf was trying valiantly to hide: fear. The Elf had been in this situation far more than he liked, and though he hid it well, he was terrified.
The Corsair smiled cruelly and reached to touch the Elf's bruised and bloodied lips. "You know, you'd be a real looker if you weren't so bloody," he commented, dabbling his fingers in the pooling blood and tracing Legolas' graceful lips with it.
Legolas jerked away, disgust written on every line of his face. "Do not touch me," he snapped, his eyes flashing dangerously. His tongue darted out instinctively, and he winced, tasting his own blood smeared all over his lips.
"Don't like that, Elf?" asked the Corsair with a smirk, seeing how Legolas had responded to being touched by the Man. Deliberately cutting off the Elf's only direction to duck, he stroked his hand over the bruised cheek.
Legolas' teeth snapped together behind his tight lips as he glared forward, unwilling to look at the Corsair. Being the kind of Man he was, the Corsair caught that and gripped the Elf's soft chin. Lifting the chin up sharply, he forced the young Prince to look up at him.
Legolas' angry blue eyes locked angrily with the dark brown of the human's. The clash was almost audible.
Aragorn saw that the situation was about to get out of hand. "Talnich, your fight is with me, not with Legolas. Leave him alone."
The Corsair, now with a name, turned and sneered at Aragorn. "So you haven't had enough? Is that it?"
Aragorn's eyes widened ever so slightly. He was in serious pain. Even lifting his head was almost too much of an effort.
"That's what I thought," said Talnich, turning back to Legolas. "So your name is Legolas, elfling?"
Legolas refused to even look at the Man.
After a second of silence, Talnich gave up. He barked something in his coarse language and gestured. Apparently obeying the order, two groups of men advanced on the friends.
One unhooked Legolas from the sconces and carried him, complete with his old chains re-hooked around his wrists, out the door as the other dragged Aragorn to his feet and dragged him out the same door.
They were flung into the same cell again. Neither moved for a very long time, Aragorn because he hurt so badly and Legolas because he was thinking very hard. After a time, Legolas unhooked his cloak and passed it to his friend. "It gets fairly cold in here, human," he said quietly in answer to Aragorn's thankful-questioning look.
Aragorn pulled the Elven cloak about his shoulders, wincing as the cloth passed over his wounds. "Thank you," he murmured, moving closer to his friend. It was colder than it had been the night before, and Legolas seemed to radiate warmth as well as light.
Legolas smiled softly and put his arm around his friend, pulling him close. No more words were exchanged before they fell asleep, Legolas keeping his human friend warm throughout the night.
By the time the morning rolled around, Aragorn had cuddled up to Legolas' side, trying to eke as much heat from his Elven friend as possible. Legolas woke up to the very unusual feeling of someone trying to crawl inside his skin. Lifting his head, he looked down at the very cold human. "Aragorn?" he whispered.
The human shivered awake and looked up at his bemused Elven friend. "What?" he asked, grumpy from being far too cold for comfort.
"Are you all right?" Legolas asked quietly, shifting so he was looking straight into his friend's eyes.
Aragorn rolled his eyes. "I'm cold, I'm hurting and I'm tired. No, I'm *not* all right!"
Legolas chuckled, his breath hitting Aragorn in the eyes. Aragorn half- closed his eyes, wrinkling up his face. "Forgive me, mellon," the Elf replied, pulling himself to a sitting stance.
Aragorn grabbed Legolas' shoulders and pulled him back down beside him. "Legolas, I am *cold*, and you are *warm*. *Stay* right here!"
"Sorry," Legolas replied in a whisper.
Wrapping his arms around Aragorn, Legolas did his best to send heat into his friend's body.
Peace covered the silent cell for a moment, Aragorn slowly getting warmer.
The peaceful moment was broken seconds later as heavy steps came down the hall. Aragorn tensed in Legolas' arms, but didn't move, still trying to get warm.
The door swung open and hit the back wall with an ominous thud. Legolas propped his chin on Aragorn's shoulder and looked at the people coming through the door. Aragorn had closed his eyes, praying that they would think him asleep. It seemed to work, for the moment.
The men that entered looked at the two friends with something akin to bemusement. They noted to each other that the Elf was wearing naught but a light tunic, leggings and jerkin, yet he appeared to be unaffected by the cold that made even the Corsairs shiver.
Conversely, the Captain of Gondor was wrapped in a cloak, an overcoat and the Elf's arms, yet even in his sleep he was shivering.
After a moment of discussion in the rough language that made Legolas' ears tingle, the Corsairs came forward and tried to pry Legolas' hands away from Aragorn. Legolas bared all his teeth in a fierce grin as he clung to his friend. After a couple tries like that, the men backed away, apparently surprised by the Elf's strength.
"Did you not know the legends of the strength of the Elves?" Legolas asked, not really expecting an answer.
So he was shocked when one Man said in heavily accented, but understandable Common, "I had heard stories, but I never listen to legends."
Legolas' mouth fell open slightly, though he didn't give up his hold on the human. He hadn't expected any answer from the Corsairs. "Most legends have a grain of truth at their base," he remarked once he had gotten his breath back.
"Bah," the Man waved off the idea. "Most legends get extremely overblown by the time they reach us. For example, I had heard that Elves don't feel cold, they can walk on snow, and they shoot fire from their eyes."
Legolas smiled grimly. "We can walk on snow and we do not feel extreme cold or extreme heat. And I believe you know by now that I cannot shoot fire out of my eyes, though at times I wish I could."
The Corsair laughed. Legolas winced; the laugh sounded like glass being dragged over gravel.
One of the men stepped forward and spoke urgently to the Man Legolas was talking to. Legolas wished he understood the strange language, but right now he was content not knowing.
The Corsair waved the other off abruptly, and Legolas guessed he was an officer of some sort from his manner.
"My underling was just reminding me that our leader called for you to be brought before him again." The Corsair explained, seeing mild curiosity in Legolas' cool eyes.
Legolas felt Aragorn tense slightly in his arms, and Legolas fully agreed. As much as he hated the dark and the cave, he preferred it to being in that room, under the control of Talnich.
"But I have decided I rather like it that you are resisting. I only hope our leader makes the right choice," continued the Corsair, bending to touch Legolas' fair, silky hair.
Legolas bore it, but only because abrupt movement would hurt the already aching Man in his arms. "Choice? What choice?" Legolas asked, trying to move his head to where the Man couldn't touch him.
"You truly don't know?" asked the Corsair, crouching beside the Elf. "There are three levels of discipline that we employ on slaves. First is getting a good knocking about, a few bruises, perhaps a broken bone or two. Second is the lash. Third..." he grinned, revealing rotting teeth.
When the Man didn't continue, Legolas asked, his heart sinking, "Yes? What is the third?"
"The slave or slaves in question get turned over to us, for our use." The Man's eyes glinted, as he looked Legolas over.
It took a few moments, but Legolas and Aragorn realized what the Man meant. Fear shone brightly in Legolas' eyes, and Aragorn went very stiff in Legolas' arms.
The Corsair grinned, seeing the fear in Legolas' eyes. "Well, I'll leave you two alone, for now."
He got to his feet and walked out the door with a barked order. The other men filed out behind him, closing the door with an echoing thud.
The friends remained prone and silent for a long moment, though Aragorn opened his eyes when the door slammed shut. At last, Legolas let out a long sigh and rested his chin against Aragorn's shoulder. "This does not look good, mellon," he said quietly, his breath clearly visible in the frigid air.
"That's the understatement of the Age," Aragorn grumbled, scooting closer to Legolas, if that was even possible. "What do we do now?"
Legolas was silent for a very long moment; Aragorn could almost hear the wheels turning in his friend's head. At last, Legolas let out a long breath, almost a sigh, and his proud shoulders slumped slightly. "In truth, Estel, I can see very few options. Making a break for it would be well nigh impossible; we do not know the way out. The Corsair spoke of a choice; does that mean only one will be chosen?"
"If there is only to be one, Legolas, let it be me," Aragorn said quietly. He knew what happened to Elves in that sort of situation.
Legolas' protest was instantaneous. "Nay Estel! It shall be me; I am more resistant to physical pain, and you are already wounded."
Aragorn sat up, breaking out of Legolas' warm hug. "Legolas, if it is you, you'll die. You know that as well as I do." His tone was quietly intense.
"And if it is you, you will be the one dead, Estel. These men are not gentle in any way, shape or form. You have a destiny to fulfill." Legolas sat up as well, meeting his friend's stormy eyes.
"And you do not?" demanded Aragorn, gripping his friend's arm. "You are the Prince of Mirkwood, your father's only child. Think of how it would kill him to lose you!"
"And you, Estel? You are the heir of Isildur, the foretold king of both Gondor and Arnor. That is the hope of men, and greater than being a Prince, or even a king, of a fading people in a fading land." Legolas freed his arm carefully. "But let us not talk about this now," he added quietly. "If the choice comes, we will decide it then. For now, it is better for us to rest."
Aragorn sighed; he hated it when Legolas was right. He lay back down and Legolas enfolded him in his warm embrace again. Breathing in tandem, the friends fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Several days passed in almost silence from the Corsairs, save for the ones who brought them half-molded food. Aragorn was ravenous and ate everything given to him, but even the sight of that food disgusted Legolas. He gave his share to Aragorn, who nearly refused it until Legolas reminded him that Elves could go a long time without food.
The best Legolas could reckon without light, three days had passed before the door slamming open interrupted their meal of rotten food. Legolas glanced up from the small braid of frayed threads he was creating and frowned as he recognized the burly man who had sat on the throne earlier standing in the door, several dozen men behind him.
Aragorn set down the bread he had been gnawing on and stood up, Legolas standing a heartbeat afterwards. "What an unexpected pleasure," Aragorn commented, hooking his bound hands in front of himself. "I never guessed you were able to move anymore." Days of rest and Legolas' tender ministrations had done wonders for Aragorn's back, and he was back to his quietly arrogant normal self. Sarcasm had returned as well.
The man backhanded Aragorn firmly, knocking him into Legolas. The Elf caught his friend and steadied him until he was able to keep his feet. "I will not mince words with you, Thorongil. I am displeased that I must come and help my men force you to obey, and being on the other side of my displeasure is not a safe place to be. I will give both of you a choice." His glance included Legolas, who was glaring at him. "Either both of you will comply with my men and me this instant, or one of you will pay the price."
"You should know this by now." Aragorn's voice was quiet. "We do not comply with pirates. Ever."
"Then you must choose who will pay the price." His gaze lingered on Legolas for an instant.
Aragorn was about to surrender himself, but Legolas stepped forward. "Me. I will pay the price."
The whole room was struck silent for an instant. Aragorn stared at Legolas. "No," he whispered. "Legolas, you can't do this."
Switching to the Grey Tongue, Legolas faced his friend and said, "It is my choice, Strider, and I have made it. I would sooner be hung by the hair in Angband than to see you go through what they have in mind."
Before Aragorn could protest, Talnich laughed throatily. "I had rather hoped it'd be you, Elf. Take him!"
The other men behind him rushed forward and grabbed Legolas. They bore him out of the room, nearly cutting off his view of Aragorn. The friends exchanged a look more potent than words in the half-second they had, and Aragorn could see the abject terror in his friend's eyes, but also the quiet strength that sustained him through many things. Then he was gone and the door closed behind them with a slam.
Aragorn just stood there a second, unable to comprehend what had just happened. "No." he whispered. After a heartbeat, he shouted, "No! Legolas! Legolas!"
As the Men manhandled the Elf down the hall, Legolas heard his friend's shout and closed his eyes, biting back tears. He was scared spitless. He knew what was going to happen to him; he knew the cost. But he also knew that if he didn't do this, Aragorn would be the one to receive the brunt of their anger. 'Peace, Aragorn,' he thought. 'This is what must be.'
((A/N 2: Yes, I know. Evil place to leave you. Fun, hm? Anyway, I thought this'd be a nice place to respond to my reviewers (I love y'all!)
Effigy: Thanks for your kind encouragement! I will most definitely keep going.
Elfmage: No, no slash. I promise. I hate the stuff myself. Though, do keep in mind this is rated R for implied rape...as you can see at the end of this chapter. If that makes you squeamish, for your own sake stop reading here and now.
Elf-Angst...first time I've actually heard it called that. But, put Legolas and a cave together...not a nice combo for him, but invaluable to the author.
This is actually the first chapter fic I've ever tried writing. Very nerve- wracking, not knowing if I've put the breaks in the good spots. Encouragement will be kept for the warm fuzzy feeling it gives.
mIzXxXmALfoY: Thanks so much! Reassurances make me feel fuzzy and warm inside!
LegolasGreenleafGil-Estel: Hurrah! More Mellon Chronicles fans! The references are partly intentional, partly not. Cassia and Sio have so defined my perspective of this friendship that, intentional or not, that's how I think of them. It could be worse, I guess...I could have that friendship defined by the slash writers. *shivers*))
Anyway, I hope ya'll enjoyed this chapter...and reviews make me post faster!
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Chapter 2
Legolas' inner clock had just informed him of the sun's rising outside when Aragorn woke to the sounds of heavy footsteps. Immediately, the Man sprang to his feet to join the Elf, who was already standing in a crouched position, ready for whatever might come through that door.
The heavy door swung open slowly, and a small group of men entered, keeping their weapons trained on the tense beings inside. The same tiny Man that had been the leader on the way down entered behind the other men, and he sneered up at the two.
Legolas, considerably calmer than he had been the day before, looked derisively down at the small Man and considered various ways to kill him.
"Have a good sleep, poppets?" The Man had an incredibly whiney voice that grated on both males' nerves as they listened. "I hope you did, for today the fun begins."
At those words, both the Man and the Elf tensed, stepping into ready stances and waiting for anyone to make the first move. "Take them, men!" ordered the tiny Man as he stepped back.
'Coward,' was the only thought Legolas had time for as the men came at the two friends. Moving back-to-back, Aragorn and Legolas fought off all attackers as they came, ducking blows and lashing out sharply. But there were too many of them, and soon the friends were overwhelmed and flung to the ground. Their fighting spirit earned them a set of shackles on their ankles, and Legolas winced as the men attached them much too tight about his slim anklebones.
Spears poking their backs, the friends were forced down the hall at a quick trot. Legolas whispered to Aragorn, "So much for that, eh?"
Aragorn just nodded, trying to breathe.
At last, they reached a large room where the two beings were flung to their knees. Legolas' proud spirit made him try and struggle off his knees, but all that earned him was a smack across the back of the head and someone heavy standing on the chain that linked his ankles together.
Aragorn's quick eyes darted around, trying to see into the shadows cast by the flickering torches stuck into sconces on the walls. The room was larger than he had guessed at first, and at the front of the room was sort of a raised dais on which sat a throne carved from bones. The room was full of Corsair men, all holding weapons of some sort. On the bone throne sat a huge Man, almost too big for the throne, with long jet-black hair braided back off his face and a long mangy beard.
He stood up slowly and assessed the two kneeling beings. Both of their heads were up proudly, anger flashing from the eyes of the golden haired one and quiet fury rumbled in the ones of the former Captain of Gondor.
"Remember me, Thorongil?" he asked, stopping in front of the friends.
Aragorn met the dark eyes examining him. A spark of memory flashed in his eyes, but he couldn't quite place how he knew this Man. Then, he remembered. The night of the Corsair attack, the leader had engaged in single combat with Aragorn, delaying the human until Aragorn had been forced to run the Man through. Though starlight and flickering torchlight had been the only lights, the face of the Man had been burned in his memory forever. That face now looked down at him.
"But you died!" Aragorn said, his tone incredulous.
"Had I known I would be interfering with the meeting of old friends..." Legolas' mutter was barely audible, but the guard on his leg chains heard and stopped his words with a sharp punch in the shoulder blade. Legolas hissed in soft pain as he doubled forward.
"No, Thorongil. You missed the vital organs and I saw a healer shortly afterwards. I lived." The Man pointedly ignored Legolas' comment, though he was too close to not have heard it. "I lived with the pain for months, lived with the fear that I was going to die every second, lived with the hate of the Man who put me in that position. And now you, Thorongil, you will live through everything you put me through. You will beg for death, but I will not be that merciful. You will beg for coolness to soothe the fire, but relief will not come."
Aragorn continued to meet the Corsair's eyes, no fear showing in his. Legolas, however, could feel the Man's muscles tense beside him in silent fear.
The Corsair leader waited long for any reaction. When none came, the Corsair looked at the fair being beside Aragorn, noted the fearful defiance and the proud set of his jaw. The Corsair had never seen anything quite like the fair being in front of him, and he stared long at him. Legolas' golden hair seemed to shine in the torchlight and light seemed to shimmer about his skin. The torchlight illuminated his pale skin, rippling in jagged patterns and glittering in his angry eyes.
"And what are you?" asked the Corsair rhetorically. He walked slowly to stand directly in front of the Elf. Legolas' eyes followed the Man, but his head didn't move. "Are you some witch-breed of human?" Bending a bit, the Corsair touched the tip of Legolas' right ear.
Legolas flinched away before he could help himself. The ears were very sensitive places for Elves, and to touch one without the owner's permission...it was very dangerous. If Legolas had had his bow, it would have gone ill for the Man. As it was, the Prince firmed his jaw and glared up at the Man.
The Corsair leader noted the flinch and the defiant stare that followed it. "I see," he murmured. "Breaking you will be very interesting."
"You could *try*," Legolas said coldly. "Better men than you have tried. They now stand before the judgment seat of Mandos, answering for their deeds."
"The only seat you need be concerned with, filthy Elf, is the seat I sit on, for it is your judgment seat this day," replied the Man with a humorless smile.
"Then I have naught to fear. You can force my body to kneel. You can even kill this body. But my spirit will remain unbroken." The quiet assurance in Legolas' eyes outweighed the fear that lingered there.
"We shall see, Elf. We shall see." There was no smile this time: only a cold anger.
Aragorn was amazed. Even here, trapped beneath thousands of tons of rocks, in a living nightmare, Legolas was sure of himself. That surety won over even the deepest-rooted fear and gave the Elf a quiet eloquence that none could contradict.
The Corsair leader turned to his men, breaking the gaze between himself and Legolas first. He snapped something in their rough tongue. The exact meaning remained a mystery to both friends, but the gist of it became clear as half the men grabbed Legolas and chained him to two convenient sconces beside the throne.
Aragorn started to rise, concerned for his friend, but several guards smashed him in the back all at once, driving him back to his knees with a painful grunt. The Corsair leader smiled again, moving to stand in front of the Elf.
Legolas' wrists were bleeding sluggishly as he tried to hold still in his bonds. He was chained just fair enough above the floor that his toes barely touched the floor, and he stretched, trying to relieve the pressure on his wrists. 'This is far too much like it was in Mordor,' he muttered mentally, managing to get purchase on the floor.
"Hurts, doesn't it, Elf?" The Corsair's voice was coolly nonchalant. "Luckily for you, for the time being, this is the worst pain you will feel. Your Gondorian friend will take the brunt of this for now."
Legolas' eyes flashed. Quick as lighting, he jerked himself up by the wrists, ignoring the stabbing pain, and kicked the Man with all his strength in the stomach. The kick literally drove the Corsair off his feet and flung him backwards into one of his men; no small feat, given how big he was. Legolas was unable to stifle a tiny whimper as his feet came to rest on the floor again.
Getting up, the Corsair stormed over to Legolas. He stood at an angle that the Elf couldn't reach with his feet and smashed the elf across the face with his balled fist again and again. Legolas didn't duck his head, taking the abuse with a calm, steady glare.
The Corsair backed away and stared at the Elf. Even with one eye swelling and trickles of blood running from his lips and nose, Legolas looked unbelievably regal, and the Corsair was afraid.
Turning away, the Corsair was confronted with the equally level, angry glare from the former Captain of Gondor. Aragorn was not at all pleased with what the Corsair had just done to his friend, and he let his eyes say everything his mouth did not dare to.
The Corsair attempted a nonchalant sneer, but the other Man's calm glare scared him more than he wanted to admit. The Corsair walked until he stood behind the Gondorian and drew a knife from his belt. Aragorn tensed as he felt the blade touch the back of his neck, but forced himself to relax. Fear clawed at the back of his throat, but he refused to give expression to it. 'These monsters live off of fear,' he reminded himself as the knife dug deep enough to bring out a single drop of blood.
The Corsair frowned at the Gondorian's refusal to respond to the small amount of pain he was giving him. Removing the knife from the flesh, the leader cut one long, jagged cut down the back of Aragorn's tunic, letting it hang from his bound wrists.
Aragorn's well muscled back was tanned from summer swimming and hunting, even though it was now fall. Old scars wrapped around his ribs and back to join with the newer bruises from the chain the day before.
Pacing back and forth, the Corsair played with a leather thong that protruded from his belt. "Are you familiar with how we Corsairs handle slaves, Thorongil?"
Aragorn did know, but he refused to say anything to this Man. His jaw knotted stubbornly as he locked eyes with Legolas. The Elf looked back, faint pain showing in his eyes, but concern outweighed the pain.
"No? Then I suppose I will have to educate you," the Corsair smirked, pulling out the leather thong. Legolas, watching the Corsair leader with eyes that burned with silent anger, saw it for what it was; a whip. His eyes went very narrow. Aragorn caught the look, and guessed what was going on.
Even so, shock played over his features as a line of fire drew down his back. Pain glinted in his eyes, but he clenched his jaw, refusing to give voice to the pain.
Irritated by the Captain's stubbornness, the Corsair flicked the lash more brutally over Aragorn's back.
The cycle of lashes and stubborn silences continued for some time more, until at last the lashes were too much for the young Man and he gasped in pain at each lash. The gasp rose to a moan, and, when the Corsair was not satisfied with that, a cry of pain.
The Corsair grinned, showing half-rotted teeth, as he continued to bring the lash onto the already ripped back. "You lasted longer than many others, Captain Thorongil," he admitted, pausing in his lashing for a moment.
Aragorn closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing as the Corsair continued, "Most cry out after the first five, some survive until the first ten, then cry out. I wonder...is your Elven friend stronger or weaker than you?" With those words, the Corsair's dark eyes rose to take in Legolas.
The glowing figure was obviously angry, judging by the flashing fire in his eyes and the expression of promise that he leveled on the Corsair leader. But the Corsair noted other things; the thin line of blood on the Elf's lips where he had bitten through the skin, the rivulets of blood trickling from his chaffed wrists, testifying to the silent struggles with the chains.
Walking to stand in front of the Elf, the Corsair looked deep into the defiant blue eyes. He saw what the Elf was trying valiantly to hide: fear. The Elf had been in this situation far more than he liked, and though he hid it well, he was terrified.
The Corsair smiled cruelly and reached to touch the Elf's bruised and bloodied lips. "You know, you'd be a real looker if you weren't so bloody," he commented, dabbling his fingers in the pooling blood and tracing Legolas' graceful lips with it.
Legolas jerked away, disgust written on every line of his face. "Do not touch me," he snapped, his eyes flashing dangerously. His tongue darted out instinctively, and he winced, tasting his own blood smeared all over his lips.
"Don't like that, Elf?" asked the Corsair with a smirk, seeing how Legolas had responded to being touched by the Man. Deliberately cutting off the Elf's only direction to duck, he stroked his hand over the bruised cheek.
Legolas' teeth snapped together behind his tight lips as he glared forward, unwilling to look at the Corsair. Being the kind of Man he was, the Corsair caught that and gripped the Elf's soft chin. Lifting the chin up sharply, he forced the young Prince to look up at him.
Legolas' angry blue eyes locked angrily with the dark brown of the human's. The clash was almost audible.
Aragorn saw that the situation was about to get out of hand. "Talnich, your fight is with me, not with Legolas. Leave him alone."
The Corsair, now with a name, turned and sneered at Aragorn. "So you haven't had enough? Is that it?"
Aragorn's eyes widened ever so slightly. He was in serious pain. Even lifting his head was almost too much of an effort.
"That's what I thought," said Talnich, turning back to Legolas. "So your name is Legolas, elfling?"
Legolas refused to even look at the Man.
After a second of silence, Talnich gave up. He barked something in his coarse language and gestured. Apparently obeying the order, two groups of men advanced on the friends.
One unhooked Legolas from the sconces and carried him, complete with his old chains re-hooked around his wrists, out the door as the other dragged Aragorn to his feet and dragged him out the same door.
They were flung into the same cell again. Neither moved for a very long time, Aragorn because he hurt so badly and Legolas because he was thinking very hard. After a time, Legolas unhooked his cloak and passed it to his friend. "It gets fairly cold in here, human," he said quietly in answer to Aragorn's thankful-questioning look.
Aragorn pulled the Elven cloak about his shoulders, wincing as the cloth passed over his wounds. "Thank you," he murmured, moving closer to his friend. It was colder than it had been the night before, and Legolas seemed to radiate warmth as well as light.
Legolas smiled softly and put his arm around his friend, pulling him close. No more words were exchanged before they fell asleep, Legolas keeping his human friend warm throughout the night.
By the time the morning rolled around, Aragorn had cuddled up to Legolas' side, trying to eke as much heat from his Elven friend as possible. Legolas woke up to the very unusual feeling of someone trying to crawl inside his skin. Lifting his head, he looked down at the very cold human. "Aragorn?" he whispered.
The human shivered awake and looked up at his bemused Elven friend. "What?" he asked, grumpy from being far too cold for comfort.
"Are you all right?" Legolas asked quietly, shifting so he was looking straight into his friend's eyes.
Aragorn rolled his eyes. "I'm cold, I'm hurting and I'm tired. No, I'm *not* all right!"
Legolas chuckled, his breath hitting Aragorn in the eyes. Aragorn half- closed his eyes, wrinkling up his face. "Forgive me, mellon," the Elf replied, pulling himself to a sitting stance.
Aragorn grabbed Legolas' shoulders and pulled him back down beside him. "Legolas, I am *cold*, and you are *warm*. *Stay* right here!"
"Sorry," Legolas replied in a whisper.
Wrapping his arms around Aragorn, Legolas did his best to send heat into his friend's body.
Peace covered the silent cell for a moment, Aragorn slowly getting warmer.
The peaceful moment was broken seconds later as heavy steps came down the hall. Aragorn tensed in Legolas' arms, but didn't move, still trying to get warm.
The door swung open and hit the back wall with an ominous thud. Legolas propped his chin on Aragorn's shoulder and looked at the people coming through the door. Aragorn had closed his eyes, praying that they would think him asleep. It seemed to work, for the moment.
The men that entered looked at the two friends with something akin to bemusement. They noted to each other that the Elf was wearing naught but a light tunic, leggings and jerkin, yet he appeared to be unaffected by the cold that made even the Corsairs shiver.
Conversely, the Captain of Gondor was wrapped in a cloak, an overcoat and the Elf's arms, yet even in his sleep he was shivering.
After a moment of discussion in the rough language that made Legolas' ears tingle, the Corsairs came forward and tried to pry Legolas' hands away from Aragorn. Legolas bared all his teeth in a fierce grin as he clung to his friend. After a couple tries like that, the men backed away, apparently surprised by the Elf's strength.
"Did you not know the legends of the strength of the Elves?" Legolas asked, not really expecting an answer.
So he was shocked when one Man said in heavily accented, but understandable Common, "I had heard stories, but I never listen to legends."
Legolas' mouth fell open slightly, though he didn't give up his hold on the human. He hadn't expected any answer from the Corsairs. "Most legends have a grain of truth at their base," he remarked once he had gotten his breath back.
"Bah," the Man waved off the idea. "Most legends get extremely overblown by the time they reach us. For example, I had heard that Elves don't feel cold, they can walk on snow, and they shoot fire from their eyes."
Legolas smiled grimly. "We can walk on snow and we do not feel extreme cold or extreme heat. And I believe you know by now that I cannot shoot fire out of my eyes, though at times I wish I could."
The Corsair laughed. Legolas winced; the laugh sounded like glass being dragged over gravel.
One of the men stepped forward and spoke urgently to the Man Legolas was talking to. Legolas wished he understood the strange language, but right now he was content not knowing.
The Corsair waved the other off abruptly, and Legolas guessed he was an officer of some sort from his manner.
"My underling was just reminding me that our leader called for you to be brought before him again." The Corsair explained, seeing mild curiosity in Legolas' cool eyes.
Legolas felt Aragorn tense slightly in his arms, and Legolas fully agreed. As much as he hated the dark and the cave, he preferred it to being in that room, under the control of Talnich.
"But I have decided I rather like it that you are resisting. I only hope our leader makes the right choice," continued the Corsair, bending to touch Legolas' fair, silky hair.
Legolas bore it, but only because abrupt movement would hurt the already aching Man in his arms. "Choice? What choice?" Legolas asked, trying to move his head to where the Man couldn't touch him.
"You truly don't know?" asked the Corsair, crouching beside the Elf. "There are three levels of discipline that we employ on slaves. First is getting a good knocking about, a few bruises, perhaps a broken bone or two. Second is the lash. Third..." he grinned, revealing rotting teeth.
When the Man didn't continue, Legolas asked, his heart sinking, "Yes? What is the third?"
"The slave or slaves in question get turned over to us, for our use." The Man's eyes glinted, as he looked Legolas over.
It took a few moments, but Legolas and Aragorn realized what the Man meant. Fear shone brightly in Legolas' eyes, and Aragorn went very stiff in Legolas' arms.
The Corsair grinned, seeing the fear in Legolas' eyes. "Well, I'll leave you two alone, for now."
He got to his feet and walked out the door with a barked order. The other men filed out behind him, closing the door with an echoing thud.
The friends remained prone and silent for a long moment, though Aragorn opened his eyes when the door slammed shut. At last, Legolas let out a long sigh and rested his chin against Aragorn's shoulder. "This does not look good, mellon," he said quietly, his breath clearly visible in the frigid air.
"That's the understatement of the Age," Aragorn grumbled, scooting closer to Legolas, if that was even possible. "What do we do now?"
Legolas was silent for a very long moment; Aragorn could almost hear the wheels turning in his friend's head. At last, Legolas let out a long breath, almost a sigh, and his proud shoulders slumped slightly. "In truth, Estel, I can see very few options. Making a break for it would be well nigh impossible; we do not know the way out. The Corsair spoke of a choice; does that mean only one will be chosen?"
"If there is only to be one, Legolas, let it be me," Aragorn said quietly. He knew what happened to Elves in that sort of situation.
Legolas' protest was instantaneous. "Nay Estel! It shall be me; I am more resistant to physical pain, and you are already wounded."
Aragorn sat up, breaking out of Legolas' warm hug. "Legolas, if it is you, you'll die. You know that as well as I do." His tone was quietly intense.
"And if it is you, you will be the one dead, Estel. These men are not gentle in any way, shape or form. You have a destiny to fulfill." Legolas sat up as well, meeting his friend's stormy eyes.
"And you do not?" demanded Aragorn, gripping his friend's arm. "You are the Prince of Mirkwood, your father's only child. Think of how it would kill him to lose you!"
"And you, Estel? You are the heir of Isildur, the foretold king of both Gondor and Arnor. That is the hope of men, and greater than being a Prince, or even a king, of a fading people in a fading land." Legolas freed his arm carefully. "But let us not talk about this now," he added quietly. "If the choice comes, we will decide it then. For now, it is better for us to rest."
Aragorn sighed; he hated it when Legolas was right. He lay back down and Legolas enfolded him in his warm embrace again. Breathing in tandem, the friends fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Several days passed in almost silence from the Corsairs, save for the ones who brought them half-molded food. Aragorn was ravenous and ate everything given to him, but even the sight of that food disgusted Legolas. He gave his share to Aragorn, who nearly refused it until Legolas reminded him that Elves could go a long time without food.
The best Legolas could reckon without light, three days had passed before the door slamming open interrupted their meal of rotten food. Legolas glanced up from the small braid of frayed threads he was creating and frowned as he recognized the burly man who had sat on the throne earlier standing in the door, several dozen men behind him.
Aragorn set down the bread he had been gnawing on and stood up, Legolas standing a heartbeat afterwards. "What an unexpected pleasure," Aragorn commented, hooking his bound hands in front of himself. "I never guessed you were able to move anymore." Days of rest and Legolas' tender ministrations had done wonders for Aragorn's back, and he was back to his quietly arrogant normal self. Sarcasm had returned as well.
The man backhanded Aragorn firmly, knocking him into Legolas. The Elf caught his friend and steadied him until he was able to keep his feet. "I will not mince words with you, Thorongil. I am displeased that I must come and help my men force you to obey, and being on the other side of my displeasure is not a safe place to be. I will give both of you a choice." His glance included Legolas, who was glaring at him. "Either both of you will comply with my men and me this instant, or one of you will pay the price."
"You should know this by now." Aragorn's voice was quiet. "We do not comply with pirates. Ever."
"Then you must choose who will pay the price." His gaze lingered on Legolas for an instant.
Aragorn was about to surrender himself, but Legolas stepped forward. "Me. I will pay the price."
The whole room was struck silent for an instant. Aragorn stared at Legolas. "No," he whispered. "Legolas, you can't do this."
Switching to the Grey Tongue, Legolas faced his friend and said, "It is my choice, Strider, and I have made it. I would sooner be hung by the hair in Angband than to see you go through what they have in mind."
Before Aragorn could protest, Talnich laughed throatily. "I had rather hoped it'd be you, Elf. Take him!"
The other men behind him rushed forward and grabbed Legolas. They bore him out of the room, nearly cutting off his view of Aragorn. The friends exchanged a look more potent than words in the half-second they had, and Aragorn could see the abject terror in his friend's eyes, but also the quiet strength that sustained him through many things. Then he was gone and the door closed behind them with a slam.
Aragorn just stood there a second, unable to comprehend what had just happened. "No." he whispered. After a heartbeat, he shouted, "No! Legolas! Legolas!"
As the Men manhandled the Elf down the hall, Legolas heard his friend's shout and closed his eyes, biting back tears. He was scared spitless. He knew what was going to happen to him; he knew the cost. But he also knew that if he didn't do this, Aragorn would be the one to receive the brunt of their anger. 'Peace, Aragorn,' he thought. 'This is what must be.'
((A/N 2: Yes, I know. Evil place to leave you. Fun, hm? Anyway, I thought this'd be a nice place to respond to my reviewers (I love y'all!)
Effigy: Thanks for your kind encouragement! I will most definitely keep going.
Elfmage: No, no slash. I promise. I hate the stuff myself. Though, do keep in mind this is rated R for implied rape...as you can see at the end of this chapter. If that makes you squeamish, for your own sake stop reading here and now.
Elf-Angst...first time I've actually heard it called that. But, put Legolas and a cave together...not a nice combo for him, but invaluable to the author.
This is actually the first chapter fic I've ever tried writing. Very nerve- wracking, not knowing if I've put the breaks in the good spots. Encouragement will be kept for the warm fuzzy feeling it gives.
mIzXxXmALfoY: Thanks so much! Reassurances make me feel fuzzy and warm inside!
LegolasGreenleafGil-Estel: Hurrah! More Mellon Chronicles fans! The references are partly intentional, partly not. Cassia and Sio have so defined my perspective of this friendship that, intentional or not, that's how I think of them. It could be worse, I guess...I could have that friendship defined by the slash writers. *shivers*))
Anyway, I hope ya'll enjoyed this chapter...and reviews make me post faster!