Disclaimer: Why bother? I don't own anything or anyone but myself.
Author's Note: Soooooo sorry!! This was the FIRST time EVER that I didn't update ever single Saturday. Very, very sorry so I'll TRY to make this one longer ok? Guess I'm getting lazy. Oh yes, White Oak just causes a lot of pain. Nothing more but in REAL LIFE, its suppose to make you blind. Someone kick my butt so I can start writing again. Really! I need someone to kick my butt!
Bittersweet Revenge
Realizations
Legolas gasped, his eyes wide and unseeing. He felt a warm trickle down his side and he knew it was his own rich blood staining his tunic. Feeling sick with a knife protruding from his side, he swayed unsteadily, only to be caught on Haldir and Hithiel's arms. His fingers groped instinctively for the dagger and he felt his fingers close around a cool metal handle. The strength was already draining out of him and it felt as if every movement required twice as much energy as usual.
A cry burst unwillingly from his pale lips as he retched the dagger from his body, causing a new spurt of blood to shower forth. At this point, he could no longer distinguish the different Elves around him. His vision grew fuzzy and gray, fading slowly to black.
With Thranduil
'Galdor is not dead. He is NOT dead!' he told himself over and over again. His fingers rubbed the smooth surface of the Guard's ring in anxiety.
His golden hair whipped furiously around his head as he paced around his room. His heart ached with the loss of his friend but he was still trying to convince himself the death was not for sure. 'The body. They still didn't find his body yet.' He allowed a faint ray of hope break through his dark thoughts but it was soon crushed by a feeling of repulsion when he thought about Galdor's dead body.
His nerves were on edge so when the door knocked, he practically ran to answer it, banging his leg in the process. "What news?" he demanded immediately, ignoring the throbbing pain in his leg.
The rider quailed under such an intense gaze from the King. "N-nothing, your Majesty. There was no trace of him or the others. There were no hoof prints. Nothing. They just... vanished," he finished weakly.
"Impossible," the King spat. His features then softened, noticing traces of fatigue on the other's face. "Rest now," he said softly, forcing himself to be calm. "Call of the search party for now but continue it first thing in the morning tomorrow. I shall go with you."
"Yes, milord," the rider said gratefully bowing low and rushing off, stumbling in his weariness.
The King closed his door slowly with a pang of guilt. 'Galdor would never call off a search party if I was presumed to be dead.' He rubbed his eyes slowly before letting his gaze fall on his shining silver sword, hanging on the opposite wall. He walked slowly to it as if in a trance and gently put his hands on it. The cool metal relived old memories of battles. Of triumph and losses. The age-less King's hands were suddenly alive once more as if a hundred years fell from him. He grabbed the sword off the wall and expertly tied the scabbard around his waist. With a slight smile, he strapped on his quiver and fetched his long bow, enjoying the feeling of having his weapons close once more. The feeling was almost lost to him for so long and now it was back as if it were yesterday when he first wielded a blade.
Smiling in satisfaction, he crept quietly out into the hallway. With his years of training as a Ranger, he quickly reached the exit without anyone noticing his absence. The well-oiled door made no sound what so ever as he slipped past them to the stables. A golden palomino stallion nickered softly seeing its old master again.
Thranduil shushed it and after a few comforting words, he tacked up the stallion and as slick as a shadow, he slipped unnoticed into the night.
With Haldir
The Lothlorien Guardian bit back a moan as another sharp pain stabbed at his insides. 'Why did I have to drink that stew? Why?' He had to admit then White Oak was much better then iocane but at least iocane was painless. He felt his stomach churn inside and stumbled on his normally excellent footing. Legolas had lost consciousness while they were trying to plug up the gaping wound to lessen the blood flow. He noted with surprise that Hithiel was quite skilled at this and showed no signs that the White Oak was affection her.
He glanced at her again and fought the urge to throw-up when he saw her blood-covered hands. They horrified him the most even if he worked with them in Lothlorien all the time. It never bothered him when he was the one doing it but it was unnerving to watch.
Hithiel heaved a small sigh and wiped a hand across her forehead to clear her eyes. A streak of red smeared across her face, right between her eyes but she didn't seem to notice.
A small smile tugged at her features. "He'll live, Haldir," she said after binding the wound tightly with fabric. "But he lost a lot of blood. He's be weak for a few days and probably sore."
Haldir gave a small sigh of relief. "But shouldn't he be awake by now? It's been hours!"
Hithiel looked thoughtful. "I don't know," she admitted. "It's probably a healing sleep but..."
She fixed her gaze back on the radiant Prince. Even near death he looked eternal. She had never met another Elf with such a bright inner light before. 'He's just too innocent to be Thranduil's son.' A frown spread across her lips as her mind wandered back to her quest. 'Why Thranduil? Why not any other nameless Elf? Why did I have to meet Legolas?' she thought despairingly gazing at the sleeping form. Even though she still didn't trust them fully, she felt close to him... and Haldir. Almost as if... they were her big brothers....
She leaned back into a nearby chair and her startling emerald eyes were fixed on the steady rising and falling of the Prince's chest. She noticed with displeasure that the white fabric that she used to bind the knife wound was already soaked in blood. The red blossomed on to the white and was starting to stain the sheets. "You should change his bandages," said a tired voice behind him.
"Yes, I know," she said without turning around knowing it was Haldir. "But if I do, he'll probably wake up." She didn't need to add that he would also feel the pain in his side.
Suddenly a loud thump crashed into the heavy door, making both Elves jump in surprise. Hithiel narrowed her eyes until they were almost slits of green. "It's Uruviel," she hissed with disdain.
"How do you know?" said Haldir pulling open the door. It was indeed Uruviel, and the elegant knot that she had before dinner had fallen out and the thick locks fell in tangles around her face, which Hithiel noted with pleasure, had a small red imprint. Before dragging the Prince into his chambers, Hithiel had delivered the spoiled Elf a solid slap to her face for injuring him.
'If Haldir didn't hold me back, I probably would've beaten her again,' Hithiel mused silently. She saw a sudden movement and instantly flung out an arm to counter and push it out of the way.
A soft cry escaped Uruviel who had collapsed on to the floor after being pushed. With one hand on her stomach, she slowly rose up, eyes never leaving the blazing green ones of Hithiel. "What do you want now?" she spat at the young maiden. "You have caused enough trouble here already! I don't give a care if you're a higher rank than me! It doesn't give you the right to KILL us! Send out your guards and I'll kill them all!"
"Hithiel..." Haldir warned from behind.
"I WILL kill them! They're pathetic! Just like you!" she spat at the Elf.
The spoiled one's face was slowly turning into a bright shade of red. "How dare you speak to me that way! I am a ROYALTY!! Hear that! ROYALTY!! I can do whatever I please! If I want to kill someone I will! Right now I feel like killing you but I'll give you a chance to live. Bow to me and praise me as you would to the Valor and I MIGHT let you live."
Green flashed violently. "You little BRAT!!" she cried. "If anyone deserves to die, its YOU!" she yelled equally as loud as the other and without knowing it, her hands balled themselves into tight fists and was rising.
A soft, unskilled hand sliced through the air, aiming for Hithiel's face but the warrior caught the wrist deftly. She held it there with an expressionless face while watching the Elfling struggle in her grip. Slowly, she began to tighten her grip, cutting off the blood and digging her nails in. The Elfling gasped in pain and shock and continued trying to pry the grip off her wrist but the warrior's grip was like steel. Small beads of blood started to dot the pale arm and the smaller one choked in pain. "Let GO!!" she wailed, desperately flailing her legs at her.
Hithiel leaned back and swept her leg forward, tripping the Elfling. With a shriek, she tumbled ungracefully into a heap on the floor. Hithiel reluctantly let go of the wrist, watching her cradle her poor arm with pity- less eyes.
Uruviel glared at her with dark eyes filled with everlasting hatred and without another word, rushed out of the room. "You shouldn't have done that," said a melodious voice behind her.
She whipped around and found Legolas awake. Apparently, he saw the entire thing. "When did you wake up?" she asked.
"How do you expect me to sleep peacefully when you guys were shouting loud enough for my father to hear?" he replied back.
Hithiel forced a grin. "Are you ok?" she asked moving towards him.
He grimaced, looking at his wound. He nodded wordlessly. "She'll be out to kill you next you know."
"Let her try," the warrior replied nonchalantly walking towards the open window. A small breeze swept through the room as her green eyes scanned the star-less sky. She let her tense muscles relax for a second as the wind played with her long raven hair.
Suddenly a loud thump from above made her jerk and she sprang back automatically. Haldir also rose, pushing back the Prince who was trying to sit up. "What's that," he whispered, eyes glued to the ceiling. The Guardian shook his head wordlessly as his hand tightened on his friend's shoulder.
Two more thumps followed the first. Just as Hithiel started to walk back towards the window, a dark bundle dropped in front of her from outside. It was hanging from a thick rope from the roof above and as it swung close to the open window, a beam of candlelight fell across the bundle. A sniffled gasp was heard from behind and Hithiel bit her lip. The small light of the candle revealed to them that the bundle was actually an Elf. A Mirkwood warrior. Or use to. The skin was stretched taunt over the delicate face bones and the eyes looked as if they were clawed out. A small hissing noise issued from the body and right before their eyes, the body began to melt.
Yippee! Another cliff! Hehe, don't kill me! I know I'm getting lazier and I have really good excuse for it but you all probably don't want to hear it. I'll try to update soon but I have finals coming up, and a competition. Review replies are below.
S Quilltwiner – Lol, yep we all hate those spoiled brats. I base her off of person that I use to know. Ugh, and they usually tend to be really, REALLY stupid too. Sorry I didn't update real soon. Mucho busy.
Cherryfaerie – Lol! I know! I LOVE writing cliffies but I absolutely LOATH it when other peoples write them. Hehe. You can kill Uruviel BUT you should wait because she has a bigger part then just being a brat. Whoops! Think I said too much! Ttyl.
ChildofGod-4ever – Thank you! Actually, I have no idea why I like writing angst stories. It just comes out! Anger? I don't know. If you ask my friends, I'm seem like the least sad/angry person but if they read my writing, then it's a different story. Lol. Thanks! Update your stories soon!
LotrFreako - Lol. Already saw Troy! It was awesome! But I have to say that Patroclus was the hottest! He's just my little Haldir! Hector was bad either.
Tinuviel88 - Of course I won't kill Legolas this early in the story! He has a bigger part to play!
Mithithiel – Sorry for my late updates but I hope you enjoy this chapter.
DarkCloudSurfer – Ummm, here's the next chapter! I'll update soon. I promise.
KeeperOfNenya – I think I answered that question already. Thanks a lot for pointing that out to me. I was tired when I wrote that chapter.
Author's Note: Soooooo sorry!! This was the FIRST time EVER that I didn't update ever single Saturday. Very, very sorry so I'll TRY to make this one longer ok? Guess I'm getting lazy. Oh yes, White Oak just causes a lot of pain. Nothing more but in REAL LIFE, its suppose to make you blind. Someone kick my butt so I can start writing again. Really! I need someone to kick my butt!
Bittersweet Revenge
Realizations
Legolas gasped, his eyes wide and unseeing. He felt a warm trickle down his side and he knew it was his own rich blood staining his tunic. Feeling sick with a knife protruding from his side, he swayed unsteadily, only to be caught on Haldir and Hithiel's arms. His fingers groped instinctively for the dagger and he felt his fingers close around a cool metal handle. The strength was already draining out of him and it felt as if every movement required twice as much energy as usual.
A cry burst unwillingly from his pale lips as he retched the dagger from his body, causing a new spurt of blood to shower forth. At this point, he could no longer distinguish the different Elves around him. His vision grew fuzzy and gray, fading slowly to black.
With Thranduil
'Galdor is not dead. He is NOT dead!' he told himself over and over again. His fingers rubbed the smooth surface of the Guard's ring in anxiety.
His golden hair whipped furiously around his head as he paced around his room. His heart ached with the loss of his friend but he was still trying to convince himself the death was not for sure. 'The body. They still didn't find his body yet.' He allowed a faint ray of hope break through his dark thoughts but it was soon crushed by a feeling of repulsion when he thought about Galdor's dead body.
His nerves were on edge so when the door knocked, he practically ran to answer it, banging his leg in the process. "What news?" he demanded immediately, ignoring the throbbing pain in his leg.
The rider quailed under such an intense gaze from the King. "N-nothing, your Majesty. There was no trace of him or the others. There were no hoof prints. Nothing. They just... vanished," he finished weakly.
"Impossible," the King spat. His features then softened, noticing traces of fatigue on the other's face. "Rest now," he said softly, forcing himself to be calm. "Call of the search party for now but continue it first thing in the morning tomorrow. I shall go with you."
"Yes, milord," the rider said gratefully bowing low and rushing off, stumbling in his weariness.
The King closed his door slowly with a pang of guilt. 'Galdor would never call off a search party if I was presumed to be dead.' He rubbed his eyes slowly before letting his gaze fall on his shining silver sword, hanging on the opposite wall. He walked slowly to it as if in a trance and gently put his hands on it. The cool metal relived old memories of battles. Of triumph and losses. The age-less King's hands were suddenly alive once more as if a hundred years fell from him. He grabbed the sword off the wall and expertly tied the scabbard around his waist. With a slight smile, he strapped on his quiver and fetched his long bow, enjoying the feeling of having his weapons close once more. The feeling was almost lost to him for so long and now it was back as if it were yesterday when he first wielded a blade.
Smiling in satisfaction, he crept quietly out into the hallway. With his years of training as a Ranger, he quickly reached the exit without anyone noticing his absence. The well-oiled door made no sound what so ever as he slipped past them to the stables. A golden palomino stallion nickered softly seeing its old master again.
Thranduil shushed it and after a few comforting words, he tacked up the stallion and as slick as a shadow, he slipped unnoticed into the night.
With Haldir
The Lothlorien Guardian bit back a moan as another sharp pain stabbed at his insides. 'Why did I have to drink that stew? Why?' He had to admit then White Oak was much better then iocane but at least iocane was painless. He felt his stomach churn inside and stumbled on his normally excellent footing. Legolas had lost consciousness while they were trying to plug up the gaping wound to lessen the blood flow. He noted with surprise that Hithiel was quite skilled at this and showed no signs that the White Oak was affection her.
He glanced at her again and fought the urge to throw-up when he saw her blood-covered hands. They horrified him the most even if he worked with them in Lothlorien all the time. It never bothered him when he was the one doing it but it was unnerving to watch.
Hithiel heaved a small sigh and wiped a hand across her forehead to clear her eyes. A streak of red smeared across her face, right between her eyes but she didn't seem to notice.
A small smile tugged at her features. "He'll live, Haldir," she said after binding the wound tightly with fabric. "But he lost a lot of blood. He's be weak for a few days and probably sore."
Haldir gave a small sigh of relief. "But shouldn't he be awake by now? It's been hours!"
Hithiel looked thoughtful. "I don't know," she admitted. "It's probably a healing sleep but..."
She fixed her gaze back on the radiant Prince. Even near death he looked eternal. She had never met another Elf with such a bright inner light before. 'He's just too innocent to be Thranduil's son.' A frown spread across her lips as her mind wandered back to her quest. 'Why Thranduil? Why not any other nameless Elf? Why did I have to meet Legolas?' she thought despairingly gazing at the sleeping form. Even though she still didn't trust them fully, she felt close to him... and Haldir. Almost as if... they were her big brothers....
She leaned back into a nearby chair and her startling emerald eyes were fixed on the steady rising and falling of the Prince's chest. She noticed with displeasure that the white fabric that she used to bind the knife wound was already soaked in blood. The red blossomed on to the white and was starting to stain the sheets. "You should change his bandages," said a tired voice behind him.
"Yes, I know," she said without turning around knowing it was Haldir. "But if I do, he'll probably wake up." She didn't need to add that he would also feel the pain in his side.
Suddenly a loud thump crashed into the heavy door, making both Elves jump in surprise. Hithiel narrowed her eyes until they were almost slits of green. "It's Uruviel," she hissed with disdain.
"How do you know?" said Haldir pulling open the door. It was indeed Uruviel, and the elegant knot that she had before dinner had fallen out and the thick locks fell in tangles around her face, which Hithiel noted with pleasure, had a small red imprint. Before dragging the Prince into his chambers, Hithiel had delivered the spoiled Elf a solid slap to her face for injuring him.
'If Haldir didn't hold me back, I probably would've beaten her again,' Hithiel mused silently. She saw a sudden movement and instantly flung out an arm to counter and push it out of the way.
A soft cry escaped Uruviel who had collapsed on to the floor after being pushed. With one hand on her stomach, she slowly rose up, eyes never leaving the blazing green ones of Hithiel. "What do you want now?" she spat at the young maiden. "You have caused enough trouble here already! I don't give a care if you're a higher rank than me! It doesn't give you the right to KILL us! Send out your guards and I'll kill them all!"
"Hithiel..." Haldir warned from behind.
"I WILL kill them! They're pathetic! Just like you!" she spat at the Elf.
The spoiled one's face was slowly turning into a bright shade of red. "How dare you speak to me that way! I am a ROYALTY!! Hear that! ROYALTY!! I can do whatever I please! If I want to kill someone I will! Right now I feel like killing you but I'll give you a chance to live. Bow to me and praise me as you would to the Valor and I MIGHT let you live."
Green flashed violently. "You little BRAT!!" she cried. "If anyone deserves to die, its YOU!" she yelled equally as loud as the other and without knowing it, her hands balled themselves into tight fists and was rising.
A soft, unskilled hand sliced through the air, aiming for Hithiel's face but the warrior caught the wrist deftly. She held it there with an expressionless face while watching the Elfling struggle in her grip. Slowly, she began to tighten her grip, cutting off the blood and digging her nails in. The Elfling gasped in pain and shock and continued trying to pry the grip off her wrist but the warrior's grip was like steel. Small beads of blood started to dot the pale arm and the smaller one choked in pain. "Let GO!!" she wailed, desperately flailing her legs at her.
Hithiel leaned back and swept her leg forward, tripping the Elfling. With a shriek, she tumbled ungracefully into a heap on the floor. Hithiel reluctantly let go of the wrist, watching her cradle her poor arm with pity- less eyes.
Uruviel glared at her with dark eyes filled with everlasting hatred and without another word, rushed out of the room. "You shouldn't have done that," said a melodious voice behind her.
She whipped around and found Legolas awake. Apparently, he saw the entire thing. "When did you wake up?" she asked.
"How do you expect me to sleep peacefully when you guys were shouting loud enough for my father to hear?" he replied back.
Hithiel forced a grin. "Are you ok?" she asked moving towards him.
He grimaced, looking at his wound. He nodded wordlessly. "She'll be out to kill you next you know."
"Let her try," the warrior replied nonchalantly walking towards the open window. A small breeze swept through the room as her green eyes scanned the star-less sky. She let her tense muscles relax for a second as the wind played with her long raven hair.
Suddenly a loud thump from above made her jerk and she sprang back automatically. Haldir also rose, pushing back the Prince who was trying to sit up. "What's that," he whispered, eyes glued to the ceiling. The Guardian shook his head wordlessly as his hand tightened on his friend's shoulder.
Two more thumps followed the first. Just as Hithiel started to walk back towards the window, a dark bundle dropped in front of her from outside. It was hanging from a thick rope from the roof above and as it swung close to the open window, a beam of candlelight fell across the bundle. A sniffled gasp was heard from behind and Hithiel bit her lip. The small light of the candle revealed to them that the bundle was actually an Elf. A Mirkwood warrior. Or use to. The skin was stretched taunt over the delicate face bones and the eyes looked as if they were clawed out. A small hissing noise issued from the body and right before their eyes, the body began to melt.
Yippee! Another cliff! Hehe, don't kill me! I know I'm getting lazier and I have really good excuse for it but you all probably don't want to hear it. I'll try to update soon but I have finals coming up, and a competition. Review replies are below.
S Quilltwiner – Lol, yep we all hate those spoiled brats. I base her off of person that I use to know. Ugh, and they usually tend to be really, REALLY stupid too. Sorry I didn't update real soon. Mucho busy.
Cherryfaerie – Lol! I know! I LOVE writing cliffies but I absolutely LOATH it when other peoples write them. Hehe. You can kill Uruviel BUT you should wait because she has a bigger part then just being a brat. Whoops! Think I said too much! Ttyl.
ChildofGod-4ever – Thank you! Actually, I have no idea why I like writing angst stories. It just comes out! Anger? I don't know. If you ask my friends, I'm seem like the least sad/angry person but if they read my writing, then it's a different story. Lol. Thanks! Update your stories soon!
LotrFreako - Lol. Already saw Troy! It was awesome! But I have to say that Patroclus was the hottest! He's just my little Haldir! Hector was bad either.
Tinuviel88 - Of course I won't kill Legolas this early in the story! He has a bigger part to play!
Mithithiel – Sorry for my late updates but I hope you enjoy this chapter.
DarkCloudSurfer – Ummm, here's the next chapter! I'll update soon. I promise.
KeeperOfNenya – I think I answered that question already. Thanks a lot for pointing that out to me. I was tired when I wrote that chapter.