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belongs to the genius Tolkien.
Author's Note: I'm making Galdor of the Gray Havens a Mirkwood guard since in the Fellowship, he seems to know a lot about Mirkwood. Got that? Good! Now on with the next chapter!
Bittersweet Revenge
Unforgotten Past
'What?!'
Legolas's clear azure eyes burned into Hithiel's rare green ones, demanding the truth. Hithiel shifted uncomfortably from his gaze but she couldn't break contact from his sapphire eyes. The eyes that seem to pierce through her lies as easily as one of her sharpest arrows.
'I can't tell him. He won't understand,' she thought despairingly. Her mouth was suddenly dry and she felt weak. 'My life is not worth living.'
"Hithiel?" Her eyes snapped instantly to the one named Haldir. He stood a little off to the side, leaning against the wall. "Tell us. I give you my word, it will never be repeated outside these walls."
Her gaze shifted to Legolas who nodded slightly. His eyes never left her face. Hithiel quailed before their intense stares. Both wanted the truth but the truth was the one thing she couldn't give them. She felt a small tear slip from her eyes and she bit her lip even harder to stop the tears. 'I cannot cry. Crying is a weakness. I am not weak.'
~*~*~Flashback~*~*~
The young Hithiel sobbed as the pain racked her body. "Daro!" she screamed into the cold unforgiving darkness. "Daro!" [Stop!]
"Why?" a voice from behind sneered at her. "You are weak and pathetic. I don't know why I put up with you in the first place."
"M- mother," she gasped. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," as more tears streamed down her frightened face.
"No. Prove to me you really mean it. Prove it that you're not weak and pathetic. Prove me wrong. Prove it. Until then, you're not my daughter."
And from that day, she never showed any weakness. Not a single tear escaped her from that day on.
~*~*~End Flashback~*~*~
She was dimly aware of the blood flowing down her chin. The pain wasn't even close to the pain she felt inside. She felt the tears that were threatening to spill recede. She blinked once more and her eyes were cleared completely.
The Elves gaze never left her. She shifted uncomfortable again and without warning, she bolted. Both the Elves were startled but their reflexes were fast and both took up the chase.
Legolas was surprised at how fast she moved even with her injury. His hand reached out to grab her but she seemed to know this. She swerved suddenly and avoided him. His fist closed around empty space. He looked up to see a flash of black whip around the corner and grinned. It was dead end. A small closet really. His light footsteps barely made a sound as he rounded the corner. His eyes quickly adjusted to the dim lighting and found Hithiel quivering in a small pile on the floor.
He felt a wave of pity wash over him. She looked so helpless sitting there curled up into a little ball. Her eyes were glazed slightly and her lithe form was shaking uncontrollably. He walked lightly over to her and sat next to her. She didn't even seem to be aware of him. "Hithiel," he said quietly putting a hand on her shoulder.
She didn't look at him. She just stared straight ahead with those lifeless glazed eyes. "Mother never loved me," she managed to say in a dull voice that lacked her usual enthusiasm. "She doesn't want me. She says I'm weak and pathetic." She took a deep shuddering breath. "I am nothing to her."
Legolas stared when she said that. 'How can anyone be so cruel to her?'
"She taught me not to trust. She says all men are worthless." She finally turned to face the Prince. "She says I am not fit to be her daughter."
Legolas could see the shining moisture in her eyes that she was trying in vain to hold in. "My mother never loved me. Everyone I am close to fears me. I have no friends. No one ever cares." She met Legolas's eyes. "She was the one who gave me those marks."
Even in the dim lighting, she could see that Legolas's features were twisted in horror at this new bit of information. 'But that is only half the truth,' she thought sadly. 'He will never know.' "If it wasn't for her, the Hithiel today wouldn't be the same as the one before you," she concluded dully.
She bowed her head so that her dark hair formed a curtain around her face. Her dark lashes rested upon her high cheekbones. After a few silent moments, she felt Legolas's hands on her. She stiffened automatically but tried to relax. 'I trust him. He won't harm me.'
The hands gently coaxed her to raise her head and meet his eye. "I'm sorry," he murmured when she was looking at him.
"What for?" she said bitterly, ducking her head so that he wouldn't see her tears that were forming again on her long lashes. "It's not your fault."
Legolas wouldn't have any of it. His hand lifted her face so that she was looking straight at him. "You are not weak, Hithiel and you are not nothing. You matter a lot."
"Sure," she said rather sarcastically. "To whom? My mother? My unknown father? The one who deserted my mother as soon as I was born?"
Legolas shook his head violently. "No, I don't know about them, nor do I care. You matter a lot, Hithiel. You matter to me. Stay in Mirkwood with us. We will treat you well. Don't go back to them."
'You lie. No one wants me. My father left my mother and me as soon as I was born. She always said it was because of me that he left. He knew I was weak and pathetic. That's why he left.'
"Hithiel, stay in Mirkwood." She looked back at Legolas. She wanted to believe what he said. He longed to live in the comfort of Mirkwood but then her duty would be incomplete. She will be punished for failing. No, she couldn't stay.
Her duty... She wasn't a hundred percent sure if she could dealt the killing blow now. Thranduil was Legolas's father. How could she kill him? She started to doubt herself but then her mother's voice came back to haunt her.
'You are weak and pathetic!' she screamed at her. 'You are not strong enough to resist this piece of slime. This Legolas is nothing but another man. He is not worthy! He is no better than all the other. All men are worthless! Have you forgotten everything I taught you?! I was right all along. You are weak! You are nothing. You are not worthy to be my daughter. Any daughter of mine could carry out such a simple task but not you! You cannot even kill Thranduil because of that Legolas, can you?! I don't even know why I bother to raise you at all! I knew you were weak from the beginning. I should've killed you when I had the chance and find someone who can actually do what I say!'
Hithiel flinched at those harsh words but the doubt was still there. She had no choice. She had to kill Thranduil. It was her duty. She had to do what her mother said. 'For all my life, I did what you said, Mother. I will not fail you yet. I have to prove that I am not weak. I will win your love, Mother. I am your daughter.'
~*~*~In Mirkwood court~*~*~
Thranduil sighed as he leaned back into the jewel encrusted throne. He knew about the rivalry between his sons and that it will be hard for Ambaril to take but Legolas would be much better at governing the him. Ambaril was too war-like and would seize everything with an iron fist. He would take the reins and pull sharp and hard. He would whip his men into obedience and everyone will fear him. That was Ambaril's nature and nothing would change it. That was why he couldn't let Ambaril have the throne.
Politics was not for him. The King sighed and began to start a new day of politics. "Galdor?"
"At your side, milord," replied the golden haired Elf swiftly. He was clad in armor making him look bigger than he really was. No one would guess that he was a hardened warrior inside. His fair face was lively and a smile usual decorated it. The golden mass on his head was pulled back neatly into the traditional warriors braid. Many people mistook him for Legolas.
"Good. Could you take your troops to the east side of the border? There were a couple of reports of missing Elves there. The wander into the forest but they never came back. There was no trace of them. Nothing."
Galdor frowned at this information. It wouldn't be Orcs for they were messy and noisy. Very easily spotted and taken care of but he never heard of a creature that left no trace of the victim. The spiders were troublesome but they were also very messy. "Yes, milord. I'll get to it right away."
Galdor quickly mustered a dozen warriors. He didn't think he would need more than that. There were no real great threats in Mirkwood that he knew of. As soon as all the troops were armed and ready, he swung onto his pure white mount and led them out of the armory. The pounding of horses thundered across the plains leaving a cloud of dust at their wake.
As they neared the border, Galdor grew a bit uneasy. It was an empty plain but there was a thick fog hanging low over it. The fog was so thick he could barely see his closest warrior that was about two meters away. He rode more slowly, keeping his sharp ears out for anything that might ambush them. Eyes were of little use here in the thick fog. He heard a slight rustle behind him but when he turned around with his sword drawn, he didn't see anything.
With increasing nervousness, he rode further into the fog. "Sayda?" he called out to one of his warriors after a moment of silence.
No one answered him. He whipped his head around and stared but there was nothing but swirling white fog. The twelve warriors that he started with were gone. With their horses. "Sayda?!" he called again. "Glingal? Kementari? Delduwath?! Cemendur?!" he called out their names desperately hoping at least one of them will answer him. [A/N: Translation for their names: Stone warrior?! Hanging Flame? Queen of the Earth? Night Shadow? Lover of the Earth?]
There was no sound except for his heavy breathing. He raised his sword and his grip tightened. Forcing his panic away he dismounted and took a fighting stance. He had more of a chance on solid ground than on top of a horse were he could be easily knocked off.
His beautiful blue eyes were wide with fear and they darted around nervously. He felt rustle behind him and he whirled that way, slashing madly. But he only hit air. His eyes darted everywhere but then his ears sharpened with a mad crackle filled the air. It seem to echo everywhere and swirl around him. He whirled around confused, trying to figure out where it came from.
Then without warning, five balls of flame came shooting at him. His eyes widened and he spun out of the way with lightning fast reflexes. Another one was headed straight for him and he instinctively raised his sword to hit it. The sword sliced it down the middle and the two halves whizzed past his side, missing him buy millimeters.
Galdor panted from relief but then a figure with a dark blue cloak leapt out straight at him. He raised his sword but the figure was too fast for him. It gripped his hand and twisted it painfully behind his back. He struggled to release himself but the grip was strong. Slowly, he dropped his sword. As soon as the steel hit the ground, the dark figure kicked it away and pushed Galdor's higher into his back. The pain was unbearable and Galdor screamed out in agony. With a sickening pop, the arm hung limp and useless at his side. Galdor's fair face was streaked with sweat from the pain and he opened his mouth to scream but no sound came out.
He stumbled when the figure released him. He tried to see the face but the person was just too fast. It was nimble and twirled away. Without warning, it struck again, this time kicking out behind the knees making Galdor fall on his back. Galdor closed his eyes on the impact and when he reopened them, the figure was nowhere to be seen. He just sat up when he felt something grab hold of his legs. He struggled to kick out but only manage to turn himself onto his side. The figure then kicked out hard. Before he knew it, pain exploded on both his legs. The figure had kicked his knees in, bending the leg the other way. The opposite way the knee was suppose to bend.
Galdor screamed out in pain. It was so great he though he was going to faint. Never before had he felt such pain before. He laid there helpless with both his legs, and an arm broken. His fair face was streaked with sweat, tears, and dirt. The dirt clung to his golden hair that now looked black. He couldn't move. He let the enemy dominate him. He didn't even have enough strength to struggle and before he knew it, pain exploded again on his right hand. The figure bent his entire hand backwards and with a sickening crack, it broke.
A piercing scream rang in the dense air. Galdor's lungs ran out of air to scream but his mouth was open in a silent scream of pain. He forgot to breath and when he finally took a big gulp of air, he laid back down on his back like a dead thing. "Ada!" he cried out helplessly. He never thought this pain existed and it could happen to him. The pain was raging through his entire body and he was finally able to faint and not bear the pain any longer. He breathing became shallow and the last thing he saw before his eyes went dark was that the figure had a golden mask for a face.
The figure with the gold mask looked down at the Mirkwood guard and scoffed. Like it was a sack of potatoes, the figure slung him over its back and dragged the body away leaving no trace except for the Ring of Mirkwood that had slipped of his finger when it broke his hand.
Author's Note: Very sorry this chapter was so short. There's something really screwy bout my computer. Hope it's not a virus. Now PLEASE rEvIeW!!!!
Author's Note: I'm making Galdor of the Gray Havens a Mirkwood guard since in the Fellowship, he seems to know a lot about Mirkwood. Got that? Good! Now on with the next chapter!
Bittersweet Revenge
Unforgotten Past
'What?!'
Legolas's clear azure eyes burned into Hithiel's rare green ones, demanding the truth. Hithiel shifted uncomfortably from his gaze but she couldn't break contact from his sapphire eyes. The eyes that seem to pierce through her lies as easily as one of her sharpest arrows.
'I can't tell him. He won't understand,' she thought despairingly. Her mouth was suddenly dry and she felt weak. 'My life is not worth living.'
"Hithiel?" Her eyes snapped instantly to the one named Haldir. He stood a little off to the side, leaning against the wall. "Tell us. I give you my word, it will never be repeated outside these walls."
Her gaze shifted to Legolas who nodded slightly. His eyes never left her face. Hithiel quailed before their intense stares. Both wanted the truth but the truth was the one thing she couldn't give them. She felt a small tear slip from her eyes and she bit her lip even harder to stop the tears. 'I cannot cry. Crying is a weakness. I am not weak.'
~*~*~Flashback~*~*~
The young Hithiel sobbed as the pain racked her body. "Daro!" she screamed into the cold unforgiving darkness. "Daro!" [Stop!]
"Why?" a voice from behind sneered at her. "You are weak and pathetic. I don't know why I put up with you in the first place."
"M- mother," she gasped. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," as more tears streamed down her frightened face.
"No. Prove to me you really mean it. Prove it that you're not weak and pathetic. Prove me wrong. Prove it. Until then, you're not my daughter."
And from that day, she never showed any weakness. Not a single tear escaped her from that day on.
~*~*~End Flashback~*~*~
She was dimly aware of the blood flowing down her chin. The pain wasn't even close to the pain she felt inside. She felt the tears that were threatening to spill recede. She blinked once more and her eyes were cleared completely.
The Elves gaze never left her. She shifted uncomfortable again and without warning, she bolted. Both the Elves were startled but their reflexes were fast and both took up the chase.
Legolas was surprised at how fast she moved even with her injury. His hand reached out to grab her but she seemed to know this. She swerved suddenly and avoided him. His fist closed around empty space. He looked up to see a flash of black whip around the corner and grinned. It was dead end. A small closet really. His light footsteps barely made a sound as he rounded the corner. His eyes quickly adjusted to the dim lighting and found Hithiel quivering in a small pile on the floor.
He felt a wave of pity wash over him. She looked so helpless sitting there curled up into a little ball. Her eyes were glazed slightly and her lithe form was shaking uncontrollably. He walked lightly over to her and sat next to her. She didn't even seem to be aware of him. "Hithiel," he said quietly putting a hand on her shoulder.
She didn't look at him. She just stared straight ahead with those lifeless glazed eyes. "Mother never loved me," she managed to say in a dull voice that lacked her usual enthusiasm. "She doesn't want me. She says I'm weak and pathetic." She took a deep shuddering breath. "I am nothing to her."
Legolas stared when she said that. 'How can anyone be so cruel to her?'
"She taught me not to trust. She says all men are worthless." She finally turned to face the Prince. "She says I am not fit to be her daughter."
Legolas could see the shining moisture in her eyes that she was trying in vain to hold in. "My mother never loved me. Everyone I am close to fears me. I have no friends. No one ever cares." She met Legolas's eyes. "She was the one who gave me those marks."
Even in the dim lighting, she could see that Legolas's features were twisted in horror at this new bit of information. 'But that is only half the truth,' she thought sadly. 'He will never know.' "If it wasn't for her, the Hithiel today wouldn't be the same as the one before you," she concluded dully.
She bowed her head so that her dark hair formed a curtain around her face. Her dark lashes rested upon her high cheekbones. After a few silent moments, she felt Legolas's hands on her. She stiffened automatically but tried to relax. 'I trust him. He won't harm me.'
The hands gently coaxed her to raise her head and meet his eye. "I'm sorry," he murmured when she was looking at him.
"What for?" she said bitterly, ducking her head so that he wouldn't see her tears that were forming again on her long lashes. "It's not your fault."
Legolas wouldn't have any of it. His hand lifted her face so that she was looking straight at him. "You are not weak, Hithiel and you are not nothing. You matter a lot."
"Sure," she said rather sarcastically. "To whom? My mother? My unknown father? The one who deserted my mother as soon as I was born?"
Legolas shook his head violently. "No, I don't know about them, nor do I care. You matter a lot, Hithiel. You matter to me. Stay in Mirkwood with us. We will treat you well. Don't go back to them."
'You lie. No one wants me. My father left my mother and me as soon as I was born. She always said it was because of me that he left. He knew I was weak and pathetic. That's why he left.'
"Hithiel, stay in Mirkwood." She looked back at Legolas. She wanted to believe what he said. He longed to live in the comfort of Mirkwood but then her duty would be incomplete. She will be punished for failing. No, she couldn't stay.
Her duty... She wasn't a hundred percent sure if she could dealt the killing blow now. Thranduil was Legolas's father. How could she kill him? She started to doubt herself but then her mother's voice came back to haunt her.
'You are weak and pathetic!' she screamed at her. 'You are not strong enough to resist this piece of slime. This Legolas is nothing but another man. He is not worthy! He is no better than all the other. All men are worthless! Have you forgotten everything I taught you?! I was right all along. You are weak! You are nothing. You are not worthy to be my daughter. Any daughter of mine could carry out such a simple task but not you! You cannot even kill Thranduil because of that Legolas, can you?! I don't even know why I bother to raise you at all! I knew you were weak from the beginning. I should've killed you when I had the chance and find someone who can actually do what I say!'
Hithiel flinched at those harsh words but the doubt was still there. She had no choice. She had to kill Thranduil. It was her duty. She had to do what her mother said. 'For all my life, I did what you said, Mother. I will not fail you yet. I have to prove that I am not weak. I will win your love, Mother. I am your daughter.'
~*~*~In Mirkwood court~*~*~
Thranduil sighed as he leaned back into the jewel encrusted throne. He knew about the rivalry between his sons and that it will be hard for Ambaril to take but Legolas would be much better at governing the him. Ambaril was too war-like and would seize everything with an iron fist. He would take the reins and pull sharp and hard. He would whip his men into obedience and everyone will fear him. That was Ambaril's nature and nothing would change it. That was why he couldn't let Ambaril have the throne.
Politics was not for him. The King sighed and began to start a new day of politics. "Galdor?"
"At your side, milord," replied the golden haired Elf swiftly. He was clad in armor making him look bigger than he really was. No one would guess that he was a hardened warrior inside. His fair face was lively and a smile usual decorated it. The golden mass on his head was pulled back neatly into the traditional warriors braid. Many people mistook him for Legolas.
"Good. Could you take your troops to the east side of the border? There were a couple of reports of missing Elves there. The wander into the forest but they never came back. There was no trace of them. Nothing."
Galdor frowned at this information. It wouldn't be Orcs for they were messy and noisy. Very easily spotted and taken care of but he never heard of a creature that left no trace of the victim. The spiders were troublesome but they were also very messy. "Yes, milord. I'll get to it right away."
Galdor quickly mustered a dozen warriors. He didn't think he would need more than that. There were no real great threats in Mirkwood that he knew of. As soon as all the troops were armed and ready, he swung onto his pure white mount and led them out of the armory. The pounding of horses thundered across the plains leaving a cloud of dust at their wake.
As they neared the border, Galdor grew a bit uneasy. It was an empty plain but there was a thick fog hanging low over it. The fog was so thick he could barely see his closest warrior that was about two meters away. He rode more slowly, keeping his sharp ears out for anything that might ambush them. Eyes were of little use here in the thick fog. He heard a slight rustle behind him but when he turned around with his sword drawn, he didn't see anything.
With increasing nervousness, he rode further into the fog. "Sayda?" he called out to one of his warriors after a moment of silence.
No one answered him. He whipped his head around and stared but there was nothing but swirling white fog. The twelve warriors that he started with were gone. With their horses. "Sayda?!" he called again. "Glingal? Kementari? Delduwath?! Cemendur?!" he called out their names desperately hoping at least one of them will answer him. [A/N: Translation for their names: Stone warrior?! Hanging Flame? Queen of the Earth? Night Shadow? Lover of the Earth?]
There was no sound except for his heavy breathing. He raised his sword and his grip tightened. Forcing his panic away he dismounted and took a fighting stance. He had more of a chance on solid ground than on top of a horse were he could be easily knocked off.
His beautiful blue eyes were wide with fear and they darted around nervously. He felt rustle behind him and he whirled that way, slashing madly. But he only hit air. His eyes darted everywhere but then his ears sharpened with a mad crackle filled the air. It seem to echo everywhere and swirl around him. He whirled around confused, trying to figure out where it came from.
Then without warning, five balls of flame came shooting at him. His eyes widened and he spun out of the way with lightning fast reflexes. Another one was headed straight for him and he instinctively raised his sword to hit it. The sword sliced it down the middle and the two halves whizzed past his side, missing him buy millimeters.
Galdor panted from relief but then a figure with a dark blue cloak leapt out straight at him. He raised his sword but the figure was too fast for him. It gripped his hand and twisted it painfully behind his back. He struggled to release himself but the grip was strong. Slowly, he dropped his sword. As soon as the steel hit the ground, the dark figure kicked it away and pushed Galdor's higher into his back. The pain was unbearable and Galdor screamed out in agony. With a sickening pop, the arm hung limp and useless at his side. Galdor's fair face was streaked with sweat from the pain and he opened his mouth to scream but no sound came out.
He stumbled when the figure released him. He tried to see the face but the person was just too fast. It was nimble and twirled away. Without warning, it struck again, this time kicking out behind the knees making Galdor fall on his back. Galdor closed his eyes on the impact and when he reopened them, the figure was nowhere to be seen. He just sat up when he felt something grab hold of his legs. He struggled to kick out but only manage to turn himself onto his side. The figure then kicked out hard. Before he knew it, pain exploded on both his legs. The figure had kicked his knees in, bending the leg the other way. The opposite way the knee was suppose to bend.
Galdor screamed out in pain. It was so great he though he was going to faint. Never before had he felt such pain before. He laid there helpless with both his legs, and an arm broken. His fair face was streaked with sweat, tears, and dirt. The dirt clung to his golden hair that now looked black. He couldn't move. He let the enemy dominate him. He didn't even have enough strength to struggle and before he knew it, pain exploded again on his right hand. The figure bent his entire hand backwards and with a sickening crack, it broke.
A piercing scream rang in the dense air. Galdor's lungs ran out of air to scream but his mouth was open in a silent scream of pain. He forgot to breath and when he finally took a big gulp of air, he laid back down on his back like a dead thing. "Ada!" he cried out helplessly. He never thought this pain existed and it could happen to him. The pain was raging through his entire body and he was finally able to faint and not bear the pain any longer. He breathing became shallow and the last thing he saw before his eyes went dark was that the figure had a golden mask for a face.
The figure with the gold mask looked down at the Mirkwood guard and scoffed. Like it was a sack of potatoes, the figure slung him over its back and dragged the body away leaving no trace except for the Ring of Mirkwood that had slipped of his finger when it broke his hand.
Author's Note: Very sorry this chapter was so short. There's something really screwy bout my computer. Hope it's not a virus. Now PLEASE rEvIeW!!!!