((A/N 1: Well, here we are again. This chapter marks roughly the halfway
point...and possibly the most tear-inducing part. If you cry easily at
stories, get some Kleenex now. We'll wait for you.
Back? Ok, here goes.))
________________________________________________
Chapter Three
Aragorn continued shouting until he could no longer hear the receding footsteps and his voice was raw. He backed up until his back hit the wall hard, then slid down the wall, jamming his knees into his eye sockets. "Why, Legolas?" he whispered, a sob choking his voice. Hot tears poured from his eyes, soaking his breeches.
Maybe it was minutes, maybe it was hours, but after a time, Aragorn stood up and wandered aimlessly around the cell. He couldn't see anymore; the only source of light had left. Carefully, he found the wall after a moment's searching and winced as his raw hands contacted cool stone.
He slammed his fist against the wall, bitter desperation eating at his heart. He couldn't believe this was happening. He couldn't believe his friend was taking the fall for him like this... not when they all knew what it would cost. It would cost Legolas his life, or, if by some miracle he didn't die, he would have that shame on him forever. And for what? A human. A mortal that would die someday.
"Forgive me, Legolas," he whispered. "I should have never come back to Gondor. This is all my fault, and you have every right in the world to hate me."
Slumping against the wall, he sat motionless for hours, his heartbeat ringing in his ears and his hitched breathing echoing in the cell.
He must have fallen asleep like that, for the next thing he knew, the door was swinging open and a Man with a torch entered. He was completely alone, which scared Aragorn more than he wanted to admit. The Man pointed at Aragorn and grunted a few words in his language. Aragorn shook his head, saying slowly, "I am sorry, but I cannot understand."
The Man sighed and said in labored Common, "You wish to see Elf? Come with me." Aragorn was on his feet in a heartbeat. He said nothing, but his determined features informed the other Man that Thorongil most definitely wanted to be with the Elf.
They walked down a long hallway and turned into an even darker area. At the end of that cul-de-sac was a single door. The Man with the torch opened that door, and Aragorn entered, ducking his head to avoid the low lintel.
The first thing that he noticed was that there was no light at all, and he turned back slightly. "Where is Legolas?"
"He there, Gondor man. Look harder." With that, the door slammed shut, leaving Aragorn in complete blackness again.
Aragorn closed his eyes for a second, forcing his eyes to readjust to darkness before he opened them again. At first, he couldn't see anything, and he wondered if the Corsair had been lying to him, for surely he should have seen Legolas' glow by now. Then he heard a muffled sob.
Aragorn dashed for the source of the sob. As he came closer, his foot caught on something soft and warm and he fell against Legolas. The Elf let out a cry of pain, moving away from Aragorn as fast as he could.
Aragorn recovered his balance and crouched down, looking for his friend. He could now see the faintest of glows. It was enough.
In the glow, he could see Legolas huddled into the corner, curled up into the tiniest ball he could manage. Aragorn's heart went out to the Prince; the proud Elf looked more like a child then than he ever had, even when he was afraid of the dark and the cave. Aragorn saw the bruises on the slender arms that hid the fair face, and his eyes traced Legolas' sides, noting the many other bruises and cuts that marred the fair body. Legolas wore only the chains that hampered his hiding attempts, and a thin trickle of blood that oozed from where the Elf sat was barely visible in the glimmer.
A long silence stretched over the friends, Legolas tenser than a bowstring and Aragorn waiting. After a long moment, Legolas said, his voice harsh, "What you are here to do, do it, but for the Valar's sake, do not toy with me."
"Legolas, it is Estel!" Aragorn said, moving closer to his friend.
"Estel?" Legolas' voice quivered as he lifted his eyes a tiny bit. Aragorn was shocked by the fear and despair that marked the once strong and cheerful blue depths. As if shamed by his friend's presence, Legolas dropped his eyes again with a sob.
Aragorn removed the cloak he had borrowed from Legolas and his own overcoat and quickly draped them over Legolas' thin, shaking shoulders. Legolas flinched at the gentle touch, but accepted the warm garments, tucking them close to himself.
Aragorn sat down beside his friend with a sigh. He hoped Legolas would be all right, but there was no way to be sure...yet.
Time ticked by slowly, marked by the echoing breaths taken by both friends. At first, Aragorn was too caught up in his thoughts to notice, but as time went on, it became far more noticeable that Legolas' breathing was getting softer and softer. Aragorn squinted at Legolas, but the Elf's light was so dim now that the Ranger could see nothing unusual.
Aragorn wished he had more light. Even a *candle*...He jerked upright, remembering something. Calling himself ten times a fool, he moved quickly to Legolas' side and began digging in the pockets of the overcoat Legolas now wore. The Elf jerked away from Aragorn's hands. Startled, Aragorn looked at Legolas...and realized why as he saw Legolas' wide eyes.
"I'm sorry, Legolas, but I need something from one of the pockets," he explained quietly, resting his hands on his thighs as he crouched before Legolas. Legolas glanced at him briefly, though he didn't meet the Human's eyes, then nodded.
Aragorn dug in first the left pocket, then the right. After a few moments of searching, he came out at last with a candle the length of his hand, a flint stone and a small knife. Carefully working the flint and knife, he lit the candle and held it close to Legolas. In the brighter light of the candle, Aragorn could see the Elf plainly...and what he saw froze his bones straight to the marrow.
Legolas' skin was a sickly pale hue, and his eyes seemed dull and inert, as if the life had simply been drained from them. His normally proud shoulders were stooped, and they rose and fell with hardly noticeable raggedness as his breath came in silent, shallow gasps. His hands, clasped together in his lap, shook slightly, as if the Elf was cold, or afraid. Realizing what was happening, Aragorn looked his friend in the eyes.
"Legolas, you're fading," he whispered, his voice cracking.
Legolas just nodded. "I know." His voice shook. For all that he was prepared to do this for Aragorn's sake, he was still afraid to die like this, wasting away slowly in a dark corner instead of dying gloriously in battle.
Aragorn watched his friend helplessly. He set the candle to the side and carefully reached out to touch his friend's shoulder. As if the touch was a signal to Legolas' failing body, the Elf slumped. Aragorn was just barely able to catch his friend and cradle his overly slender body in his arms.
"No, Legolas! You can't go!" Aragorn's voice cracked with pain as he held his friend's battered body.
The grinding sound in Legolas' throat was supposed to be laughter. "Lord Elrond named you well, Estel. But I cannot stay. You know this."
"I know nothing save that if you go, I will not be far behind," Aragorn muttered rebelliously.
Legolas smiled, and that smile transcended the bruises and cuts on his fair face, calling to mind the beauty of Valinor, the joy of the young, yet also the wisdom and weariness of an old warrior. "I will miss this the most, I think," he whispered, his strength fast ebbing. His eyes flickered up, meeting Aragorn's for the first time. "Your wild impetuousness, your sarcasm and your tenacity. I am honored to have been your friend, Aragorn son of Arathorn." His eyelids fluttered downwards, then up again as the Elf took one more rattling, struggling breath. "Namárië." His voice was the barest thread of a whisper.
Before Aragorn could say anymore, Legolas went limp in his arms, his beautiful eyes closed and his chest still.
"NO!!" The sound burst from Aragorn's throat, changing from a word to a wordless, animal cry of pain. His voice, trained on a battlefield, shook the underground fortress of the Corsairs, permeating every room with the sound of a breaking heart. Everyone heard it, from Talnich on his bone throne to the huddling little man not far from the friends, and all wondered what caused such anguish.
The cry only stopped when Aragorn ran out of breath, and he bent over his friend, hot tears pouring down his face.
"Legolas, please..." he whispered, shaking the still-warm body in his arms. "Don't go. It's not your time."
But even as he watched, the remaining color in Legolas' face vanished and his flesh lost its warmth until Aragorn felt he was holding naught but a wax sculpture of his friend.
"Legolas..." Aragorn whispered, bending closer to his friend until his scraggly hair brushed Legolas' still chest. "Please..." He couldn't even articulate the words anymore; the lump in his throat stole all speech.
"Ilúvatar!" he cried, fighting past the lump to appeal to the Creator, the only one who could turn things around now. "Ilúvatar, please! Let him come back!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Beyond the pain, beyond sight and beyond sound, Legolas floated in a sea of darkness. The darkness enveloped him, covered him, and secured him in its warm embrace. There, Legolas found peace, and he was content. He was happy to be without pain for the first time in days, happy to leave shame behind him. In the back of his mind, he knew he couldn't stay here forever, but that didn't stop him from wishing.
Slowly at first, so slowly that Legolas didn't see any difference for some time, then faster as time progressed, a light penetrated the darkness, reaching its fingers of light toward the prone Elf. When the first finger touched him, Legolas heard a whisper that was bigger than any shout he had ever heard. "Legolas." The voice was so full of love that Legolas felt tears spark in his eyes.
"Ilúvatar?" he asked, squirming so all of his being was in contact with the pure light.
"Yes, my child. You have a choice to make."
Legolas sighed and closed his glowing eyes. He had known from the moment he had slipped into the dark realm that he had a choice to make; he had just wanted to put the choice off for as long as possible.
Ilúvatar's voice continued, "Your friend begs me for your return, but the choice is ultimately yours."
Choose? Choose between blinding pain and forever peace? Choose between eternal beauty and temporal things? The chance to see his mother who had left these shores long ago again, or returning to the few friends he had? There was really no choice, and Legolas was about to tell Ilúvatar that he chose to leave...when another voice penetrated the darkness.
Still in the cell, Aragorn rocked back and forth, still holding Legolas and singing softly. The tune was supposed to be merry, but Aragorn's voice cracked so many times that the overall effect was heartbreaking pain.
Legolas listened to the song, recognizing it for what it was...and a small smile crept over his face.
A memory surfaced in the darkness; a memory of a warm summer afternoon spent lazily by the Bruinen River, of laughter and teasing, of playful fighting. He remembered Elladan and Elrohir helping him dunk Aragorn again and again until the Man could barely breathe through his laughter and sputtering. He remembered later that evening, sitting beside the warm fire in Rivendell's Hall of Fire, teaching the Noldor Elves and the young Human a feasting song of Mirkwood.
That was the song now echoing eerily through the darkness, and Legolas remembered the reasons he had to live. He remembered his father, strong, noble King of Mirkwood who loved his son very much, remembered Lord Elrond, a comfort in times of peril and a handy shoulder to lean on. He remembered Raniean and Trelan, how different they were, yet how inseparable. He remembered Elladan and Elrohir, identical in face, yet so very different in temperament and nature, and how very much they loved each other.
And he remembered the owner of the voice that now sang brokenly to him. He remembered helping Aragorn learn how to shoot a bow properly and with some measure of accuracy, remembered how Aragorn had always been there for him when he needed it, remembered Aragorn's fierce defense every time there had been a battle.
In that time of remembering, Legolas made his decision.
((A/N 2: Sorry for how short this chapter is! In following the glorious tradition Cassia and Sio started, I tried to break the chapters where a 'cliffie' is. Unfortunately, that's right here. So, anyway...reviewer responses...and may I say I am quite pleasantly surprised with all the positive responses?
Elfmage: I'm so glad implied rape doesn't bother you! I was afraid I was going to lose one of my best reviewers because of that! Yeah, I figured, thanks to the Mellon Chronicles, that both of them hate the thought of the other getting hurt because of them. It's kinda weird, but it makes for interesting dialogue. One of the things that is always hard for me is the level of description. I'm never sure if I'm rushing the scene too much, or adding too much description...but I'm glad the dungeon was vivid for you. LOL...I found myself shivering while I was writing about how cold Aragorn was. BTW, I'm honored that my humble story found its way onto your favorites list. I hope you continue enjoying!
LegolasGreenleafGil-Estel: I hate slash myself. I used to read a lot of it...until I pulled back and realized just how stupid most of them were. Most of them were, 'I just met you, you're so hot, let's go to bed.' Plus, Aragorn/Legolas, as you said, completely condradictes Tolkien's beautiful romance story. I decided against truly remembering the events of Captive of Darkness, though there will be more MC references as time goes on. My reasoning: If Legolas already went through something similar to this, why is he dying now?
Kenobisaqt: Welcome to the panel of reviewers! I'm glad you enjoy the story so far...and I hope you'll continue enjoying it.
Fate Vione: Wow...I'm truly honored. I know how hard it is to read a story without skipping...I'm a bit of a skim-reader, personally. Again, welcome to the review panel!
Robinyj: Yeah, one of the hardest things for me was creating a plot that, 1. Hadn't been done before and 2. Was somewhat realistic and fun to write. Underground wasn't all that fun...I think I have something Elvish in my blood, as I hate caves and cramped, dark places...but it was perfect for what elfmage terms Elf Angst. Welcome to the review panel...and maybe you could explain what you mean when you say I may have taken the dialogue a bit far sometimes?
LadyJanelly: Actually, the Corsairs were just looking for an excuse--any excuse--to hurt and humiliate Aragorn. The fact that Legolas stepped into Aragorn's place only made the pot sweeter. The plain fact is; if you hurt Legolas, you hurt Aragorn in a far more personal way. Aragorn's used to pain and torment on his own behalf, but seeing Legolas have to go through that hurts him in a way that doesn't heal easy. Anyway, welcome to the review panel...and I hope you continue enjoying the story.
Back? Ok, here goes.))
________________________________________________
Chapter Three
Aragorn continued shouting until he could no longer hear the receding footsteps and his voice was raw. He backed up until his back hit the wall hard, then slid down the wall, jamming his knees into his eye sockets. "Why, Legolas?" he whispered, a sob choking his voice. Hot tears poured from his eyes, soaking his breeches.
Maybe it was minutes, maybe it was hours, but after a time, Aragorn stood up and wandered aimlessly around the cell. He couldn't see anymore; the only source of light had left. Carefully, he found the wall after a moment's searching and winced as his raw hands contacted cool stone.
He slammed his fist against the wall, bitter desperation eating at his heart. He couldn't believe this was happening. He couldn't believe his friend was taking the fall for him like this... not when they all knew what it would cost. It would cost Legolas his life, or, if by some miracle he didn't die, he would have that shame on him forever. And for what? A human. A mortal that would die someday.
"Forgive me, Legolas," he whispered. "I should have never come back to Gondor. This is all my fault, and you have every right in the world to hate me."
Slumping against the wall, he sat motionless for hours, his heartbeat ringing in his ears and his hitched breathing echoing in the cell.
He must have fallen asleep like that, for the next thing he knew, the door was swinging open and a Man with a torch entered. He was completely alone, which scared Aragorn more than he wanted to admit. The Man pointed at Aragorn and grunted a few words in his language. Aragorn shook his head, saying slowly, "I am sorry, but I cannot understand."
The Man sighed and said in labored Common, "You wish to see Elf? Come with me." Aragorn was on his feet in a heartbeat. He said nothing, but his determined features informed the other Man that Thorongil most definitely wanted to be with the Elf.
They walked down a long hallway and turned into an even darker area. At the end of that cul-de-sac was a single door. The Man with the torch opened that door, and Aragorn entered, ducking his head to avoid the low lintel.
The first thing that he noticed was that there was no light at all, and he turned back slightly. "Where is Legolas?"
"He there, Gondor man. Look harder." With that, the door slammed shut, leaving Aragorn in complete blackness again.
Aragorn closed his eyes for a second, forcing his eyes to readjust to darkness before he opened them again. At first, he couldn't see anything, and he wondered if the Corsair had been lying to him, for surely he should have seen Legolas' glow by now. Then he heard a muffled sob.
Aragorn dashed for the source of the sob. As he came closer, his foot caught on something soft and warm and he fell against Legolas. The Elf let out a cry of pain, moving away from Aragorn as fast as he could.
Aragorn recovered his balance and crouched down, looking for his friend. He could now see the faintest of glows. It was enough.
In the glow, he could see Legolas huddled into the corner, curled up into the tiniest ball he could manage. Aragorn's heart went out to the Prince; the proud Elf looked more like a child then than he ever had, even when he was afraid of the dark and the cave. Aragorn saw the bruises on the slender arms that hid the fair face, and his eyes traced Legolas' sides, noting the many other bruises and cuts that marred the fair body. Legolas wore only the chains that hampered his hiding attempts, and a thin trickle of blood that oozed from where the Elf sat was barely visible in the glimmer.
A long silence stretched over the friends, Legolas tenser than a bowstring and Aragorn waiting. After a long moment, Legolas said, his voice harsh, "What you are here to do, do it, but for the Valar's sake, do not toy with me."
"Legolas, it is Estel!" Aragorn said, moving closer to his friend.
"Estel?" Legolas' voice quivered as he lifted his eyes a tiny bit. Aragorn was shocked by the fear and despair that marked the once strong and cheerful blue depths. As if shamed by his friend's presence, Legolas dropped his eyes again with a sob.
Aragorn removed the cloak he had borrowed from Legolas and his own overcoat and quickly draped them over Legolas' thin, shaking shoulders. Legolas flinched at the gentle touch, but accepted the warm garments, tucking them close to himself.
Aragorn sat down beside his friend with a sigh. He hoped Legolas would be all right, but there was no way to be sure...yet.
Time ticked by slowly, marked by the echoing breaths taken by both friends. At first, Aragorn was too caught up in his thoughts to notice, but as time went on, it became far more noticeable that Legolas' breathing was getting softer and softer. Aragorn squinted at Legolas, but the Elf's light was so dim now that the Ranger could see nothing unusual.
Aragorn wished he had more light. Even a *candle*...He jerked upright, remembering something. Calling himself ten times a fool, he moved quickly to Legolas' side and began digging in the pockets of the overcoat Legolas now wore. The Elf jerked away from Aragorn's hands. Startled, Aragorn looked at Legolas...and realized why as he saw Legolas' wide eyes.
"I'm sorry, Legolas, but I need something from one of the pockets," he explained quietly, resting his hands on his thighs as he crouched before Legolas. Legolas glanced at him briefly, though he didn't meet the Human's eyes, then nodded.
Aragorn dug in first the left pocket, then the right. After a few moments of searching, he came out at last with a candle the length of his hand, a flint stone and a small knife. Carefully working the flint and knife, he lit the candle and held it close to Legolas. In the brighter light of the candle, Aragorn could see the Elf plainly...and what he saw froze his bones straight to the marrow.
Legolas' skin was a sickly pale hue, and his eyes seemed dull and inert, as if the life had simply been drained from them. His normally proud shoulders were stooped, and they rose and fell with hardly noticeable raggedness as his breath came in silent, shallow gasps. His hands, clasped together in his lap, shook slightly, as if the Elf was cold, or afraid. Realizing what was happening, Aragorn looked his friend in the eyes.
"Legolas, you're fading," he whispered, his voice cracking.
Legolas just nodded. "I know." His voice shook. For all that he was prepared to do this for Aragorn's sake, he was still afraid to die like this, wasting away slowly in a dark corner instead of dying gloriously in battle.
Aragorn watched his friend helplessly. He set the candle to the side and carefully reached out to touch his friend's shoulder. As if the touch was a signal to Legolas' failing body, the Elf slumped. Aragorn was just barely able to catch his friend and cradle his overly slender body in his arms.
"No, Legolas! You can't go!" Aragorn's voice cracked with pain as he held his friend's battered body.
The grinding sound in Legolas' throat was supposed to be laughter. "Lord Elrond named you well, Estel. But I cannot stay. You know this."
"I know nothing save that if you go, I will not be far behind," Aragorn muttered rebelliously.
Legolas smiled, and that smile transcended the bruises and cuts on his fair face, calling to mind the beauty of Valinor, the joy of the young, yet also the wisdom and weariness of an old warrior. "I will miss this the most, I think," he whispered, his strength fast ebbing. His eyes flickered up, meeting Aragorn's for the first time. "Your wild impetuousness, your sarcasm and your tenacity. I am honored to have been your friend, Aragorn son of Arathorn." His eyelids fluttered downwards, then up again as the Elf took one more rattling, struggling breath. "Namárië." His voice was the barest thread of a whisper.
Before Aragorn could say anymore, Legolas went limp in his arms, his beautiful eyes closed and his chest still.
"NO!!" The sound burst from Aragorn's throat, changing from a word to a wordless, animal cry of pain. His voice, trained on a battlefield, shook the underground fortress of the Corsairs, permeating every room with the sound of a breaking heart. Everyone heard it, from Talnich on his bone throne to the huddling little man not far from the friends, and all wondered what caused such anguish.
The cry only stopped when Aragorn ran out of breath, and he bent over his friend, hot tears pouring down his face.
"Legolas, please..." he whispered, shaking the still-warm body in his arms. "Don't go. It's not your time."
But even as he watched, the remaining color in Legolas' face vanished and his flesh lost its warmth until Aragorn felt he was holding naught but a wax sculpture of his friend.
"Legolas..." Aragorn whispered, bending closer to his friend until his scraggly hair brushed Legolas' still chest. "Please..." He couldn't even articulate the words anymore; the lump in his throat stole all speech.
"Ilúvatar!" he cried, fighting past the lump to appeal to the Creator, the only one who could turn things around now. "Ilúvatar, please! Let him come back!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Beyond the pain, beyond sight and beyond sound, Legolas floated in a sea of darkness. The darkness enveloped him, covered him, and secured him in its warm embrace. There, Legolas found peace, and he was content. He was happy to be without pain for the first time in days, happy to leave shame behind him. In the back of his mind, he knew he couldn't stay here forever, but that didn't stop him from wishing.
Slowly at first, so slowly that Legolas didn't see any difference for some time, then faster as time progressed, a light penetrated the darkness, reaching its fingers of light toward the prone Elf. When the first finger touched him, Legolas heard a whisper that was bigger than any shout he had ever heard. "Legolas." The voice was so full of love that Legolas felt tears spark in his eyes.
"Ilúvatar?" he asked, squirming so all of his being was in contact with the pure light.
"Yes, my child. You have a choice to make."
Legolas sighed and closed his glowing eyes. He had known from the moment he had slipped into the dark realm that he had a choice to make; he had just wanted to put the choice off for as long as possible.
Ilúvatar's voice continued, "Your friend begs me for your return, but the choice is ultimately yours."
Choose? Choose between blinding pain and forever peace? Choose between eternal beauty and temporal things? The chance to see his mother who had left these shores long ago again, or returning to the few friends he had? There was really no choice, and Legolas was about to tell Ilúvatar that he chose to leave...when another voice penetrated the darkness.
Still in the cell, Aragorn rocked back and forth, still holding Legolas and singing softly. The tune was supposed to be merry, but Aragorn's voice cracked so many times that the overall effect was heartbreaking pain.
Legolas listened to the song, recognizing it for what it was...and a small smile crept over his face.
A memory surfaced in the darkness; a memory of a warm summer afternoon spent lazily by the Bruinen River, of laughter and teasing, of playful fighting. He remembered Elladan and Elrohir helping him dunk Aragorn again and again until the Man could barely breathe through his laughter and sputtering. He remembered later that evening, sitting beside the warm fire in Rivendell's Hall of Fire, teaching the Noldor Elves and the young Human a feasting song of Mirkwood.
That was the song now echoing eerily through the darkness, and Legolas remembered the reasons he had to live. He remembered his father, strong, noble King of Mirkwood who loved his son very much, remembered Lord Elrond, a comfort in times of peril and a handy shoulder to lean on. He remembered Raniean and Trelan, how different they were, yet how inseparable. He remembered Elladan and Elrohir, identical in face, yet so very different in temperament and nature, and how very much they loved each other.
And he remembered the owner of the voice that now sang brokenly to him. He remembered helping Aragorn learn how to shoot a bow properly and with some measure of accuracy, remembered how Aragorn had always been there for him when he needed it, remembered Aragorn's fierce defense every time there had been a battle.
In that time of remembering, Legolas made his decision.
((A/N 2: Sorry for how short this chapter is! In following the glorious tradition Cassia and Sio started, I tried to break the chapters where a 'cliffie' is. Unfortunately, that's right here. So, anyway...reviewer responses...and may I say I am quite pleasantly surprised with all the positive responses?
Elfmage: I'm so glad implied rape doesn't bother you! I was afraid I was going to lose one of my best reviewers because of that! Yeah, I figured, thanks to the Mellon Chronicles, that both of them hate the thought of the other getting hurt because of them. It's kinda weird, but it makes for interesting dialogue. One of the things that is always hard for me is the level of description. I'm never sure if I'm rushing the scene too much, or adding too much description...but I'm glad the dungeon was vivid for you. LOL...I found myself shivering while I was writing about how cold Aragorn was. BTW, I'm honored that my humble story found its way onto your favorites list. I hope you continue enjoying!
LegolasGreenleafGil-Estel: I hate slash myself. I used to read a lot of it...until I pulled back and realized just how stupid most of them were. Most of them were, 'I just met you, you're so hot, let's go to bed.' Plus, Aragorn/Legolas, as you said, completely condradictes Tolkien's beautiful romance story. I decided against truly remembering the events of Captive of Darkness, though there will be more MC references as time goes on. My reasoning: If Legolas already went through something similar to this, why is he dying now?
Kenobisaqt: Welcome to the panel of reviewers! I'm glad you enjoy the story so far...and I hope you'll continue enjoying it.
Fate Vione: Wow...I'm truly honored. I know how hard it is to read a story without skipping...I'm a bit of a skim-reader, personally. Again, welcome to the review panel!
Robinyj: Yeah, one of the hardest things for me was creating a plot that, 1. Hadn't been done before and 2. Was somewhat realistic and fun to write. Underground wasn't all that fun...I think I have something Elvish in my blood, as I hate caves and cramped, dark places...but it was perfect for what elfmage terms Elf Angst. Welcome to the review panel...and maybe you could explain what you mean when you say I may have taken the dialogue a bit far sometimes?
LadyJanelly: Actually, the Corsairs were just looking for an excuse--any excuse--to hurt and humiliate Aragorn. The fact that Legolas stepped into Aragorn's place only made the pot sweeter. The plain fact is; if you hurt Legolas, you hurt Aragorn in a far more personal way. Aragorn's used to pain and torment on his own behalf, but seeing Legolas have to go through that hurts him in a way that doesn't heal easy. Anyway, welcome to the review panel...and I hope you continue enjoying the story.