Young Storyteller : Yes, that Finn is sure cute! And what a great podium finish it was for him! I love to see him grin like that! He! He! (Uh…right. Those boys sounded quite like Peter Pan and his hood. Peter even wears green tights like Leggy's! LOL!)
Irish Anor : Legolas is stupid. All together now; 'Oh, no. Not again!'
vampy2k : Why would he listen to that stubborn ranger when that ranger never listened to him? Ha! Ha!
Fire Breathing Ferret : Before you let your precious ferrets have at the boys, make sure they go to the vet first, check for rabies.
AbbiCat14 : Thanks for the plot bunny! (Oh, about the idea Of Leggy's child, I think you've just read my mind! You'll see what I mean!)
sazhismine : Correct! That will be the end of this story.
Kayo : No! I don't want Traius' dad to get a hold on Nara! No, he can't! He just can't! Please no!
Gwyn : Yep. He is not going live it down. I'll make sure of it!
Brazgirl : I agree with you. Kids nowadays are getting wilder and wilder. (Even my little nephew likes to imitate Power Rangers, chopping like mad at his one-month-old cousin! Arggh! That boy is frightening!)
Jamie : Thranduil vs Triaus' father? You are getting very close!
Scotty Baby : Bring out your Scotty Rolen bat but don't swing it at me!
Karina : Baby, you don't know how right you are! Easterlings or Haradrims? Read on, and you'll find out. Oh, I hope u win!
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The sound of wild cheers and exuberant shouting jarred Legolas to consciousness. Instantly, he felt pain—great throbbing pain in his head and agonizing strain from around his wrists. Blinking, he tried to gather his senses, and was surprised to find out that his face was mere inches from the ground. And he was moving!
With a gasp, Legolas lifted his head and couldn't help cringing in dismay. He found himself being dragged by a horse on a muddy street through a village. The rain unheeded, the villagers gathered around to watch this spectacle and seemed to be enjoying his plight immensely. They were openly cheering and rejoicing, as if he was some kind of a runaway criminal that had been successfully recaptured. Some of them were also laughing and jeering at him. Still dazed and disoriented, Legolas couldn't fully understand what had caused them to react to him this way.
Angry and slightly frightened, Legolas gazed upward and saw the slender figure of a boy riding on the horse. At that instant, the boy turned and smirked back at him.
He was Traius, the boy who had led the group that had tried to rob him.
Legolas saw red.
Ignoring his pain and discomfort, he gathered all his will and nimbly leaped to his feet. Wrapping the rope around his fist, Legolas then jerked with all his might, his feet firmly planted in the muddy ground for leverage.
Traius' smirk vanished, to be replaced by a look of complete shock as his horse neighed and reared, dumping the rider off its back. The boy landed in the dirt with a yell as the people looked on in astonishment.
Taking advantage of the distraction, Legolas quickly ran for the agitated mare. He was about to jump onto its back and make haste his escape, but the villagers quickly reacted to stop him. The men reached for the horse and held her still, while strong eager hands grabbed the elf and dragged him back down.
Enraged, Legolas growled as he struggled to free himself, throwing punches with his bound wrists and kicking desperately at his captors. Several men were thrown back in the scuffle, while one of them was rendered senseless. But more men kept coming to subdue the elf. Wounded and still weak, Legolas found himself lying face down in the mud not long after, sporting a new bruise on his head, as well as some bleeding cuts on his face and lips. Three men were holding him down, pressing their knees against his back.
If it was not such a dire situation, Legolas might have laughed at himself. Captured. Again. By a pack of children, no less.
He looked up with difficulty when he heard approaching footsteps. A man was steadily coming towards him, his long strides marred slightly by a limp in his gait. And then Legolas began to notice the manner of dressing of the people around him, as well as their speech and bearing.
The elf grew paler, if such a feat was possible. No. Scratch that. These are no mere children. And these are no simple villagers. These are Easterlings!
The newcomer gave a signal and the men pulled Legolas to his knees, keeping a firm hold on his arms. One of them even grabbed a fist of the elf's golden hair and yanked his head back, enabling him to clearly observe the newcomer's face.
Legolas knew and would always remember that face anywhere.
"Hello, Gervas," Legolas said through gritted teeth. "Looks like you've survived."
The man smiled in recognition. "So, elf, you remember me. What a surprise. I can hardly believe it's truly you. "
"You know him, father?" Traius suddenly appeared at the man's side. The boy was wincing, rubbing at his smarting backside due to his fall.
Gervas' smile grew wider. "Of course. We are old acquaintances. We met during the War." The man reached down and wrapped his fingers around Legolas' throat, and squeezed. His black eyes glittered with menace. And anger.
"This is the elf who killed your grandfather."
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Night had fallen and the rain had finally stopped. But there was still no sign of Gervas.
Legolas sighed and rested the back of his head against the pole he was tied to. His throat still felt sore after Gervas' attempt to crush his larynx just now, but the man had suddenly ceased and released him before he could cause permanent damage.
"To kill you now would seem foolish," Gervas had said then, smiling at Traius' way. "I would not want my boy's effort go to waste. He is a smart one, don't you think?"
Legolas had snorted. "Like father, like son," he responded sarcastically.
"Yes. I'm proud of him," Gervas' said, patting Traius' shoulder. "Well done, my boy. I was about to trash you when I found out you took my horse without my permission. But you have surely given me something good in return."
Traius' beamed at his father's praise. "He is very mean, father! He tried to kill Gaius. He stabbed my brother in the arm!"
Legolas exploded. "Liar! It was your blade that…"
Gervas swung his fist and struck the elf on the jaw. "Hold your tongue before I cut it out of you!"
His eyes flashing, Legolas slowly raised his head and glared at Gervas and his son. The boy instantly turned pale and took a step back, so intimidating and formidable Legolas' gaze was. Even Gervas grew uneasy and he quickly looked away.
"You will be punished, elf!" Gervas retorted. "I will decide what punishment befits your crimes! But for now, enjoy your stay in our village while you still can. You might lose your head tonight!"
Gervas turned to go but one of the men stopped him. "Where do you want us to put him, chief?"
The head of the village frowned as he pondered. "We don't have a cell to keep him locked in, do we? Never mind. Tie him up to the flag pole in front of my house. He will be comfortable there while I decide his fate."
Comfortable, my ass! Legolas fumed two hours later. He had tried to loosen the bindings around his wrists but it wouldn't give. Blasted Easterlings! I should have killed them all during the war!
To see Gervas once more had stirred disturbing recollections in his mind. He first met Gervas during the famous battle of the Pelennor Field. Gervas' father was one of the Easterling's high chieftains, the force that had assisted Lord Sauron to conquer Middle-earth during the War of the Ring. The man's reputation preceded him, definitely an influential person to be reckoned with. He was quite ancient for a human, over seventy years of age. But the man's greed for power and thirst for blood had been as strong as an orc's.
Legolas' conscience would never let him harm an old man, but it had been a time of war. He had had no other choice but to do what he had to do. With one clean stroke, the man was killed instantly. But his only son, Gervas, had been there when he fell. Legolas would never forget the madness in Gervas' eyes when the man had tried to avenge his father's death. Gervas had been so intent to kill Legolas that he had moved recklessly, growing quickly out of control. The prince had managed to hit Gervas on his leg, completely maiming him. That was why the man still walked with a limp.
But before Legolas could give him the killing blow, something else had caught the prince's immediate attention. Aragorn, who was fighting with a group of Haradrims several yards away, was about to be overwhelmed by his adversaries. The future king of Gondor desperately needed help. Without haste, Legolas had left Gervas writhing on the ground despite the man's curses and protests. "Where are you going, elf? We are not finish!"
Legolas had paused momentarily, gazing at the injured man. "Yes, we are."
Gervas was still yelling when Legolas reached Aragorn. "Coward! Finish me off! Or I will come and haunt you and make you pay! Do you hear me! I, GERVAS, SWEAR TO MAKE YOU PAY!"
That was the last Legolas heard of him.
Legolas closed his eyes with a tired sigh. Oh, yes. I am going to pay, all right. Thanks to my absolute stupidity!
Sitting quietly on the damp ground with his arms bound behind him, Legolas began to feel the toll from his rough adventure. Every inch of his body hurt after being dragged all day. His head still throbbed, but at least it had stopped bleeding. His wrists? He couldn't even feel his wrists. They had gone numb. And so was his face. He won't be surprised to look in the mirror and find a stranger looking back at him. The men had pounded him real good. His left eye felt swollen, and his lower lip was twice its normal size.
Ai! I'm filthy! Legolas grimaced at his mud splattered state. He was caked with dirt from head to toe. One of his boots was missing, and his clothes were ripped. His long hair was tangled, the braids undone. Legolas bit on another string of vile curses. Even the orc looks cleaner. If only Nara could see me now. She would have a fit!
Wet and miserable, Legolas wished he had listened to Aragorn's advice. Estel will definitely kill me! If Nara didn't get to me first, that is.
Then he scoffed. If I came out of this mess alive, that is.
Having no other thing to do as he waited for Gervas, Legolas looked up and assessed his surroundings. The village was still alive at night, with sounds of laughter and shouts coming from the well-lit buildings. Men and women walked to and fro in the streets, occasionally sending the elf amused gazes and provoking sneers. Meanwhile, a group of children stood nearby, staring at the dirty creature bound to the pole, longing to pelt him with rotten vegetables they had stolen from their mothers' larders. But the two men—who stood guard over the elf—glared back at the children, not allowing them to disturb the prisoner until Gervas had his say in the matter. The elf obviously was very important to their chief, and they did not want to invoke Gervas' fury by doing anything without his permission.
Legolas saw Traius among the children. The boy was grinning victoriously, looking so proud with what he had done. Gaius stood in the background, his injured arm in a sling. Unlike his elder brother, the young boy looked stricken and guilty. He glanced repeatedly at Legolas, his sad eyes seeking for forgiveness of any kind.
Ruefully, Legolas shook his head. Lord, what a mess!
To keep his mind off the dreadful situation, he started to wonder about the Easterlings. He never would have thought that these people dared to put up a new village on the soil of Gondor. After the big lost that the Easterlings had suffered in the War ten years ago, Legolas rarely heard of the once powerful tribe. He only knew that their strong foundation had weakened, and those that survived the War had scattered all over the land, taking up hunting and raiding as their major mode of life. Unlike the Haradrims, the Easterlings had not actively retaliated against Gondor. They had kept their silence and stowed away their bitter grudge for years.
And now, I've stumbled into their midst, eagerly asking for trouble, Legolas still couldn't stop lecturing himself. Very smart, Legolas. Now what?
As if hearing his thoughts, Gervas finally emerged from his house with four other men. They steadily walked towards the flag pole, staring at the elf bound to it. With hands clasped behind his back, Gervas smiled. "We have decided what to do with you, elf."
Legolas cocked one eyebrow. "Really? And you took hours to do so? Not so bright, are you?"
Frowning, Gervas glared at the elf while the men murmured between themselves.
"Such insolence coming from you! But no more. You will never speak that way to me again." Gervas started to walk slowly around the pole, circling the elf. "You see, elf, we have decided not to execute you. No, that would be a waste. Instead, we are going to let you live. But…"
The man stopped in front of Legolas once more. "You are going to pay for what you did to my father, to me, and to my younger son."
Legolas felt a prickle of fear deep inside him as he saw the malicious glint in Gervas' eyes. "And how exactly do you want me to pay?"
Gervas smiled crookedly before replying, "By becoming our slave."
TBC…