The Hunt
In Imladris, two full days had passed and Legolas was still caught in a web of terrible visions. Aragorn and Lord Elrond had cleaned him with the use of many basins of warmed water and clean soft cloths. Elladan had brought a clean night shift, in which they had dressed him. Elrohir had gently combed out the tangles from his hair and trimmed the golden length until it only reached his waist. Legolas lay quietly now, with his eyes closed; his thick, long, black lashes making tiny fans on each pale cheek.
Two hours before, Aragorn, who had been watching over him, listened with growing horror and sadness as Legolas mumbled half-broken words that spelled out a tale of misery. The picture the words painted had driven him to his knees in anguish. Lord Elrond found him there, overwhelmed with sorrow. He held his human son in his arms and tried to comfort him, as Aragorn tearfully repeated the tale of suffering. In the end, Lord Elrond could not help but weep at the loss of innocence.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Garuk was beginning to worry about the elf. He no longer moved around his cage and he hardly ate the food that the orc provided. The elf did not even try to avoid him any more. He had stopped fighting back. Garuk had made sure to keep a torch lit at all times when he realized that the elf was fading. But it came too late. The elf turned away from the flickering light of the torch and mostly slept facing the tunnel wall.
Garuk searched his cruel brain for a way to prolong the elf's life. He stared into the cage, observing the way his golden hair reflected the light of the torch. The image caused an idea to blossom in his black mind. The thought brought a satisfied grin to Garuk's face.
He kicked the elf's leg, to rouse him, as he lay curled on his side facing the wall. "Get up!" he commanded. The elf rolled slowly onto his back and stared up at a point over the orc's head. "I said get up!" The elf sluggishly obeyed. Standing face to face, the elf was taller than the orc. This irritated Garuk. He tied the elf's hand tighter than was necessary with a length of rope, all the while hoping his captive would resist. Legolas kept his eyes focused on the far wall. He had retreated deep within himself. It was the only way he could continue to live. When Garuk jerked him forward and out of the cage, Legolas was stunned. He had not left that stinking cage in an age. His feet hardly remembered how to walk. He stumbled and nearly fell. Only a quick tug from the orc saved him from sprawling in the dirt.
"Walk elf, walk if you want to see the sky." With that, Garuk started down a long dark tunnel, pulling the elf behind him.
Legolas followed him on leaden feet. The sky. How those words filled his reluctant heart with hope. He shook his head to clear away the dreams that suddenly flooded his broken heart. He began to weep and he could do nothing to stop the tears from flowing. The sky, the stars, the wind. How cruel was the heart of an orc.
Garuk heard the elf's muffled sounds of sorrow and his heart filled with happiness. But the best part was yet to come. With renewed vigor he quickened his pace, dragging the wretched creature in his wake.
They came to an abrupt halt in the gloom. By then, Legolas had regained control of his emotions and was quiet. He sank to the ground at their journey's end, utterly exhausted. His head drooped in weariness and his glorious golden hair swept forward to curtain his ravaged face.
There was a heavy grating, as Garuk pushed open a hidden stone door that lead to the outside. Legolas gasped, as clean fresh air wafted inward and caressed his sore body. Garuk pulled on the rope and Legolas was hauled to his feet. He jerked the elf towards him and caught him by the waist. "Look." He said. Together they stood looking out at the foothills of the Misty Mountains. It was night, a clear night. The stars shone down in all their glory. The sounds of night creatures were loud and happy as they went about their business. Garuk felt the elf tremble with longing in his arms. He reached up and tucked errant strands of pale gold hair behind the elf's delicately pointed ear.
"What would you give to be out there elf?" he asked softly, not expecting an answer.
Legolas's eyes were drinking in everything he saw. He would keep these images in his mind, to pull out and remember when his thoughts turned to despair. He knew that the orc was taunting him. He would soon close the door and all would return to darkness. He did not expect to be hurled forward with a mighty shove. He landed with a heavy thud on the grass, his grace and agility forgotten. Garuk leapt out after him. Legolas pushed himself to his knees, facing the orc with suspicion. From his belt Garuk pulled a dagger. So this was it. The orc would to kill him at last. At least he would die out here, under the beauty of the heavens. Legolas turned his dirt-smudged face to his sky, so that his last memory would be of beauty, not the hideously scarred face of his tormentor. Garuk smiled as he pressed the dagger against the elf's throat and with a sudden downward thrust... cut the rope. He stepped back watching a series of conflicting emotions chase each other across the elf's face, as he realized what Garuk had done.
"I'll give you one day's start elf. Then I hunt you." Garuk then backed into the tunnel and the door grated shut.
For the first few minutes Legolas did not move. He could not really believe that he was free. He dug his fingers into the soil at his knees. He was free; but then the orc's words came back to him. One day. He forced himself to his feet. He felt weak, but he had to move. Looking around he realized he had no idea, where he was. Which way was home? He took one step and stopped. The wind was blowing. He felt its soft touch along his body. He breathed in deeply. The cool, fresh air filled his lungs. It smelled of pine, flowering grasses and earth.
His senses were overwhelmed. The wind blew his hair about his body and he laughed for the first time in two long years. He had to start, now. He moved forward unsteadily, placing one foot ahead of the other, for he could not run. His muscles which had been ill-used for so long protested vehemently. He ignored the pain and kept up a regular pace. He moved from grass to scattered trees as the ground began to slope downward. He stopped beneath a crooked beech, looking around to get his bearings. He was dismayed to find he was breathing too fast and shallow. He had broken into a sweat. His body was trembling with the effort to keep him on his feet. He closed his eyes leaning on the tree hoping that it would respond. The tree swayed in response to his request. It spoke of a meadow of tall grass and a river. They were not too far ahead. Legolas was glad for he did not know how much further he could go. He thanked the tree and started forward again. He walked for at least one full hour before he came to the edge of the meadow.
The sky was beginning to lighten and his eyes were starting to hurt. He hurried now, not knowing how wide and far the sea of grass stretched. In a short time though, the sun broke over the horizon and Legolas cried out in agony. He cowered in the grass, covering his eyes with both hands. It was too bright! Too bright! He could not open his eyes, so he began to crawl; feeling his way with his hands. He felt the rays of the sun on his bare back and though it gave comforting warmth, he was chilled. He could not escape this way, the orc would catch him. Legolas pulled the length of his hair over his shoulders and wrapped it around his eyes. It did not help much, but at least he could use his hands again. He kept crawling, for he did not trust himself to stand. Long before noon time came, Legolas lay spent amidst the abundant green. He could go no further. Anger at his frailty consumed him, but there was naught he could do. Morning passed to evening and evening to night. He finally heard the orc crashing through the bushes. Soon the familiar, hated figure appeared. The orc leered down at him. "Well met, master elf" the taunting voice was full of glee. Legolas made no sound as the orc picked him up, swung him onto his shoulder and began the short journey back to the tunnels. In his heart he knew that the orc would release him again, just to see him fail. The orc however, did not take into account, the stubbornness of elves.
During two years, Garuk hunted the elf five times more. Each time Legolas gained more distance, but not enough to worry the orc. Garuk enjoyed the game, for Legolas had regained his spirit and once more he had the pleasure of 'taming' him. What Garuk did not know was that Legolas was reserving his growing strength. He ate all the food Garuk gave to him, be it flesh or fruit. When the orc was absent, Legolas strengthened his muscles by doing training exercises he had learnt as a fledgling warrior. His eyes presented the greatest challenge. He stared into the light of the torches, trying to readjust, but that was no comparison to the bright light of day. He hoped that frequent exposure and his elven heritage would be enough. He could not, by any means, overpower Garuk, because the orc still abused him badly. Despite this, he was gaining the strength to run and run he would.
The seventh time Garuk released the elf; Legolas turned west and began to run. His pale golden hair which had grown to his knees, streamed out like a banner behind him as he ran into the wind.He ran all of the remaining night and half of the next day. He passed through meadow and scrub land before he reached to a plain of sharp rocks just before the riverbed. His bare feet were nicked and scraped ere he came to rest. He rested for three full hours at the river's edge drinking the clean water. Then he began to run again. By the end of the first day, he knew the orc was on his trail. This gave him the impetus he needed. He ran all night.
On the second day, his speed was much reduced. His legs hurt badly and almost every breath he took caused a stitch in his side. He was wet with sweat. Hope was with him however, for he could see in the distance, almost on the horizon, a dark line of trees. In one more day he would be at the edge of the wild. When night fell on the second day, Legolas was reduced to a walk. Although Garuk could not follow him in the daylight, the orc would do so with deadly speed at night. Legolas had half a day's head start on him and he did not intend to give up his advantage.
When the morning of the third day came Legolas knew he was nearing the end of his endurance. His chest heaved painfully with every sip of air; his legs trembled with every movement. His head pounded with the beat of a thousand drums. The night before, he had imagined that every noise he heard was the orc crashing through the undergrowth, ready to spring at him. He walked like a tottering infant, yet he reached the safety of the wood before five hours had passed. He needed to get to a tree that was big enough to hide in. If he had strength to climb, he would hide in its uppermost branches.
He saw an old and venerable oak tree standing majestically, not too far away. The tree wavered before his eyes as weariness and hunger caught up with him. What tripped him, he never knew, but his feet flew out from under him and he fell and could not move. He made soft sounds of pain unconsciously. He was beneath the tree.
No, not so close! His mind screamed at him. Get up! Get up! Legolas put one hand around a gnarled root... and knew no more. His last thought was of the orc's leering face. His mind screamed soundlessly as all things turned to darkness.
In Imladris, two full days had passed and Legolas was still caught in a web of terrible visions. Aragorn and Lord Elrond had cleaned him with the use of many basins of warmed water and clean soft cloths. Elladan had brought a clean night shift, in which they had dressed him. Elrohir had gently combed out the tangles from his hair and trimmed the golden length until it only reached his waist. Legolas lay quietly now, with his eyes closed; his thick, long, black lashes making tiny fans on each pale cheek.
Two hours before, Aragorn, who had been watching over him, listened with growing horror and sadness as Legolas mumbled half-broken words that spelled out a tale of misery. The picture the words painted had driven him to his knees in anguish. Lord Elrond found him there, overwhelmed with sorrow. He held his human son in his arms and tried to comfort him, as Aragorn tearfully repeated the tale of suffering. In the end, Lord Elrond could not help but weep at the loss of innocence.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Garuk was beginning to worry about the elf. He no longer moved around his cage and he hardly ate the food that the orc provided. The elf did not even try to avoid him any more. He had stopped fighting back. Garuk had made sure to keep a torch lit at all times when he realized that the elf was fading. But it came too late. The elf turned away from the flickering light of the torch and mostly slept facing the tunnel wall.
Garuk searched his cruel brain for a way to prolong the elf's life. He stared into the cage, observing the way his golden hair reflected the light of the torch. The image caused an idea to blossom in his black mind. The thought brought a satisfied grin to Garuk's face.
He kicked the elf's leg, to rouse him, as he lay curled on his side facing the wall. "Get up!" he commanded. The elf rolled slowly onto his back and stared up at a point over the orc's head. "I said get up!" The elf sluggishly obeyed. Standing face to face, the elf was taller than the orc. This irritated Garuk. He tied the elf's hand tighter than was necessary with a length of rope, all the while hoping his captive would resist. Legolas kept his eyes focused on the far wall. He had retreated deep within himself. It was the only way he could continue to live. When Garuk jerked him forward and out of the cage, Legolas was stunned. He had not left that stinking cage in an age. His feet hardly remembered how to walk. He stumbled and nearly fell. Only a quick tug from the orc saved him from sprawling in the dirt.
"Walk elf, walk if you want to see the sky." With that, Garuk started down a long dark tunnel, pulling the elf behind him.
Legolas followed him on leaden feet. The sky. How those words filled his reluctant heart with hope. He shook his head to clear away the dreams that suddenly flooded his broken heart. He began to weep and he could do nothing to stop the tears from flowing. The sky, the stars, the wind. How cruel was the heart of an orc.
Garuk heard the elf's muffled sounds of sorrow and his heart filled with happiness. But the best part was yet to come. With renewed vigor he quickened his pace, dragging the wretched creature in his wake.
They came to an abrupt halt in the gloom. By then, Legolas had regained control of his emotions and was quiet. He sank to the ground at their journey's end, utterly exhausted. His head drooped in weariness and his glorious golden hair swept forward to curtain his ravaged face.
There was a heavy grating, as Garuk pushed open a hidden stone door that lead to the outside. Legolas gasped, as clean fresh air wafted inward and caressed his sore body. Garuk pulled on the rope and Legolas was hauled to his feet. He jerked the elf towards him and caught him by the waist. "Look." He said. Together they stood looking out at the foothills of the Misty Mountains. It was night, a clear night. The stars shone down in all their glory. The sounds of night creatures were loud and happy as they went about their business. Garuk felt the elf tremble with longing in his arms. He reached up and tucked errant strands of pale gold hair behind the elf's delicately pointed ear.
"What would you give to be out there elf?" he asked softly, not expecting an answer.
Legolas's eyes were drinking in everything he saw. He would keep these images in his mind, to pull out and remember when his thoughts turned to despair. He knew that the orc was taunting him. He would soon close the door and all would return to darkness. He did not expect to be hurled forward with a mighty shove. He landed with a heavy thud on the grass, his grace and agility forgotten. Garuk leapt out after him. Legolas pushed himself to his knees, facing the orc with suspicion. From his belt Garuk pulled a dagger. So this was it. The orc would to kill him at last. At least he would die out here, under the beauty of the heavens. Legolas turned his dirt-smudged face to his sky, so that his last memory would be of beauty, not the hideously scarred face of his tormentor. Garuk smiled as he pressed the dagger against the elf's throat and with a sudden downward thrust... cut the rope. He stepped back watching a series of conflicting emotions chase each other across the elf's face, as he realized what Garuk had done.
"I'll give you one day's start elf. Then I hunt you." Garuk then backed into the tunnel and the door grated shut.
For the first few minutes Legolas did not move. He could not really believe that he was free. He dug his fingers into the soil at his knees. He was free; but then the orc's words came back to him. One day. He forced himself to his feet. He felt weak, but he had to move. Looking around he realized he had no idea, where he was. Which way was home? He took one step and stopped. The wind was blowing. He felt its soft touch along his body. He breathed in deeply. The cool, fresh air filled his lungs. It smelled of pine, flowering grasses and earth.
His senses were overwhelmed. The wind blew his hair about his body and he laughed for the first time in two long years. He had to start, now. He moved forward unsteadily, placing one foot ahead of the other, for he could not run. His muscles which had been ill-used for so long protested vehemently. He ignored the pain and kept up a regular pace. He moved from grass to scattered trees as the ground began to slope downward. He stopped beneath a crooked beech, looking around to get his bearings. He was dismayed to find he was breathing too fast and shallow. He had broken into a sweat. His body was trembling with the effort to keep him on his feet. He closed his eyes leaning on the tree hoping that it would respond. The tree swayed in response to his request. It spoke of a meadow of tall grass and a river. They were not too far ahead. Legolas was glad for he did not know how much further he could go. He thanked the tree and started forward again. He walked for at least one full hour before he came to the edge of the meadow.
The sky was beginning to lighten and his eyes were starting to hurt. He hurried now, not knowing how wide and far the sea of grass stretched. In a short time though, the sun broke over the horizon and Legolas cried out in agony. He cowered in the grass, covering his eyes with both hands. It was too bright! Too bright! He could not open his eyes, so he began to crawl; feeling his way with his hands. He felt the rays of the sun on his bare back and though it gave comforting warmth, he was chilled. He could not escape this way, the orc would catch him. Legolas pulled the length of his hair over his shoulders and wrapped it around his eyes. It did not help much, but at least he could use his hands again. He kept crawling, for he did not trust himself to stand. Long before noon time came, Legolas lay spent amidst the abundant green. He could go no further. Anger at his frailty consumed him, but there was naught he could do. Morning passed to evening and evening to night. He finally heard the orc crashing through the bushes. Soon the familiar, hated figure appeared. The orc leered down at him. "Well met, master elf" the taunting voice was full of glee. Legolas made no sound as the orc picked him up, swung him onto his shoulder and began the short journey back to the tunnels. In his heart he knew that the orc would release him again, just to see him fail. The orc however, did not take into account, the stubbornness of elves.
During two years, Garuk hunted the elf five times more. Each time Legolas gained more distance, but not enough to worry the orc. Garuk enjoyed the game, for Legolas had regained his spirit and once more he had the pleasure of 'taming' him. What Garuk did not know was that Legolas was reserving his growing strength. He ate all the food Garuk gave to him, be it flesh or fruit. When the orc was absent, Legolas strengthened his muscles by doing training exercises he had learnt as a fledgling warrior. His eyes presented the greatest challenge. He stared into the light of the torches, trying to readjust, but that was no comparison to the bright light of day. He hoped that frequent exposure and his elven heritage would be enough. He could not, by any means, overpower Garuk, because the orc still abused him badly. Despite this, he was gaining the strength to run and run he would.
The seventh time Garuk released the elf; Legolas turned west and began to run. His pale golden hair which had grown to his knees, streamed out like a banner behind him as he ran into the wind.He ran all of the remaining night and half of the next day. He passed through meadow and scrub land before he reached to a plain of sharp rocks just before the riverbed. His bare feet were nicked and scraped ere he came to rest. He rested for three full hours at the river's edge drinking the clean water. Then he began to run again. By the end of the first day, he knew the orc was on his trail. This gave him the impetus he needed. He ran all night.
On the second day, his speed was much reduced. His legs hurt badly and almost every breath he took caused a stitch in his side. He was wet with sweat. Hope was with him however, for he could see in the distance, almost on the horizon, a dark line of trees. In one more day he would be at the edge of the wild. When night fell on the second day, Legolas was reduced to a walk. Although Garuk could not follow him in the daylight, the orc would do so with deadly speed at night. Legolas had half a day's head start on him and he did not intend to give up his advantage.
When the morning of the third day came Legolas knew he was nearing the end of his endurance. His chest heaved painfully with every sip of air; his legs trembled with every movement. His head pounded with the beat of a thousand drums. The night before, he had imagined that every noise he heard was the orc crashing through the undergrowth, ready to spring at him. He walked like a tottering infant, yet he reached the safety of the wood before five hours had passed. He needed to get to a tree that was big enough to hide in. If he had strength to climb, he would hide in its uppermost branches.
He saw an old and venerable oak tree standing majestically, not too far away. The tree wavered before his eyes as weariness and hunger caught up with him. What tripped him, he never knew, but his feet flew out from under him and he fell and could not move. He made soft sounds of pain unconsciously. He was beneath the tree.
No, not so close! His mind screamed at him. Get up! Get up! Legolas put one hand around a gnarled root... and knew no more. His last thought was of the orc's leering face. His mind screamed soundlessly as all things turned to darkness.