A/n: Hola mis amigas y amigos! Como estan ustedes? Estoy muy
emocionado- es mi vacacion, por fin! Yo tengo escribir mucho, claro que
si... Pero, me gusta mucho escribir! Hahahahaaa...
Hey there dudes. How are you? I'm so siked- it's FINALLY vacation. I have to write a lot of course... but I love writing! AHAHAHHAA!
Ahem. 0.o I hope no one who speaks Spanish reads this, because I didn't use the accents or the proper punctuation... hides with computer under a rock Type time!!!
Disclaimer: waves to Bill Gates Hey there! Guess what I want for MY birthday, Billyboy! gets hauled away by security
Chapter Ten: Painfully Different
Legolas sighed wearily as he laid his head down on the pile of maps. Uuuuuugh.
Haldir quietly took the empty mug out of Legala's unmoving fingers. He gestured towards the pot. "More, Your Highness?"
Legala frowned irritably. "No, and cut it out with the Your Highness. All I need really badly is a shoulder massage. Valar, my neck has a kink in it..." Haldir coughed.
"Well, I have no idea how to give a shoulder massage... And you have to get to bed soon. You're recovering from a poisoning, you shouldn't even be walking about."
Legala pouted. "Well, I have one more thing to do..."
Haldir raised one eyebrow. "'One' ?"
"Really! I mean it, just one more thing. I have to make a trip to the prisons... to see the Elf who tried to- you know. Anyway, it's absolutely urgent, so don't try and talk me out of it, and I don't want to hear any sarcastic comments from you while we're down there-"
Haldir's other eyebrow raised. "You want me to come with you?"
"For three reasons. One, you're a bodyguard-like figure. Two, you can provide an emotional support for me while I walk through the prisons, and three, I can't feel my legs." She sighed and glared at the chair she had been sitting in for the past four hours.
"Well, what can I say? Your powers of persuasion work wonders on me. Let's go now; the sooner we get this over with, the sooner we'll both be in bed."
Legala choked and started to giggle. She covered her mouth with her hand, and instead shook with silent laughter. Haldir frowned. "What?"
"Nothing..."
"Tell me!"
"... Well, if you're so impatient, we could go to bed right now..."
"You know what I meant! In separate beds!"
"Sure, sure, Haldir. Whatever you say." She got up slowly, wobbling on her feet. Legala yawned, throwing her head back. She sighed as she looked down at her dress.
"Oh, no." It was folded and messed after four hours, and a lot of the cloth was in permanent creases. It would take days of hanging for the creases to come out. Legala sighed again.
"I have to change... I think I'll be wearing a black dress for the prisons. I think it would fit the mood. Powder, too, of course. Drat. I hate having to go out in public to get anything done." Haldir rolled his eyes, his own clothes in mint condition. Legala paused.
"I'll just pretend I didn't see that."
Haldir smiled. "See what?" he added cheerfully.
The Elf's hair was knotted, matted in a huge mess behind his head. Across the far end of his cell, a hairbrush had been thrown. He was resolutely refusing to move, buried in his own small corner of the stone room.
Legala sat across from him, legs neatly folded underneath her. Her own hair was underneath her hood. She breathed in once, deeply. Then she stared at the Elf.
"Who are you?" she asked neutrally. The prisoner scowled, and spat at her. She ignored it.
"Who sent you?" she asked, in the same monotone. The Elf crossed his arms over his chest.
"You're not getting anything out of me."
"So your leader does inspire loyalty. Interesting."
The Elf blinked. He cautiously let his mouth's fixed scowl lessen a bit. Legala raised one slender, sculpted eyebrow. He snorted.
"You can call me Lalorn, dog," he muttered, and looked pointedly away from Legala's face.
Legala sighed. "Who sent you?" she asked again, using a bit of force behind her words. "Can you tell me anything?"
"Can. Won't. You filthy, tainted- beasts think you deserve to live on this green earth? You've allied yourselves with THEM." The hatred burning through Lalorn's eyes was like a blow. Legala smiled inwardly. Now we're getting somewhere.
"Who's 'them'?" she asked conversationally, as if there was nothing at all unusual going on. Lalorn glared at her vehemently.
"Filthy Men. You've let them carve away the forest, rip up the roots of the grass! Burning, biting, breaking, they come like a plague upon Arda. And you... you untouchables. You've let them! Filthy sons of pigs, dogs!" screamed the bound Elf, spittle flecking Legala's face. He was turning a violent shade of purple, eyes going dark with bordering hysteria.
Men? What on earth...
"But who are you to talk? Making allies with the orcs! You're killing your own kin, and becoming one with the enemy," Legala countered, arms rigid. Lalorn laughed.
"They were like us, once! The orcs were- are- our kin, our own flesh and blood. It is through no fault of their own that they are who they are. And once their minds have been removed from under the sway of the Dark Lord, they are our soldiers to command! They are fighters, fighters for the side of the forest, now!"
Legala's eyes narrowed. "Subverting the minds of orcs? Your great leader must be desperate if he's stooped low enough to enslave the minds of something no better than a beast," she seethed, anger radiating from her in waves. "What else does your fine Leader do? Subvert the finely-honed wits of the dumb animals? Or does he return the power of thought to the wretches before he dominates them once again?"
"You're wrong." Lalorn chuckled. "He warned me that you would be like this. You're so easy to predict, so easy to trigger. You'll be easy prey for us."
Legala stood stiffly. "I," she said in a voice colder than ice, "have not become one with the slaughterers of my people. I suppose that your Leader ensnared the Spiders, didn't he? It sounds like something he would do, this wretch. There is only one thing I have yet to discover, Lalorn. You have given away enough, but tell me-" she paused, smiling like a cat playing with a mouse, "does the Istari even remember who he was?"
Her question was met with silence. Shocked eyes met hers, and then looked away, frantic.
"Come on, Lalorn. Surely you know exactly why I'm questioning you. Since you are, of course, so wise?"
"Of course I do," Lalorn muttered. He looked at her through eyes that bore an uneasy resemblance to a caged animal's. Legala smirked for the show of it. Of course he didn't know. He was playing along, like any other simpleton would. This was a manipulative art, interrogation of the captive. Royalty, again, had to know it. If they were ever taken captive, they had to 'know their enemy', as it were.
"So why can't you simply give your side of the story for the records? We've already won the war. Your master was pitifully easy for our mages to crush. This is purely for the records," Legala said airily, letting her hood fall back with a pompous flick of her wrist. Silver bracelets jangled, sounding not unlike bells.
Lalorn's eyes were all she was watching. A dilation of the pupils... the faintest hint of reddening at the edges where skin met eyeball... a slight discoloration of the iris? Ah, panic. Terror? Definitely near the edge of whatever mental abyss he was trying to keep himself from. Oh, and the lines of the face, easier to read, spelling things out like a map. Four vertical creases between his brownish eyebrows, crow's feet sharply outlined as his cheek muscles rose, mouth slightly open to breathe faster and gain more air, nostrils flared... the adrenaline was rushing through him like a lightning bolt.
Legala didn't let her smirk fall. Inside she pondered gravely. Lalorn's world would be falling apart around his ears, ripped at the seams. Next would come...
"NO. He didn't. He didn't fall! He's too strong to fall! YOU! You weak miserable little worms! Lureanen was-" He choked himself, and leaned back on the stone, eyes tightly shut but still leaking tears. He let out a moan like a tortured beast, crying openly.
Denial.
Lureanen? What? A name, I think. What does it mean? It is not Sindarin. It must be Quenya. Nen... nen is water, isn't it? I heard an elf praying and he called on four elements, I forget when, but nen definitely means water. Lurea? Lurea.... well, lu-re means bad weather... Bad water? Dark water? Dark water. I wish I had paid more attention to those scrolls of Quenya...Legala breathed deeply, and bit her lower lip. This was the most delicate piece of the interrogation.
"You don't have to fear," Legala said gently. "As soon as our healers make sure that nothing is mentally wrong with you, or wipe your memories away for you if you wish, we'll let you go." She ached as the lie slipped out from between her lips. This was the part that made her sick, the promises which were always, eventually, broken...
Lalorn looked at her, miserable. "My master is dead. I have no call to live any longer than I must. What do you want from me? Can't you ask someone else?"
Legala shook her head. "You're one of the only captives in good enough shape to give us anything worthwhile. Now, can you start by telling me why you chose Dimrill Dale as a base?" She tried to keep her tone light.
Lalorn swallowed, and quietly said, "I didn't. My Lord did. He said- he said that you filth would be foolhardy enough to try and bottleneck us there, and it was completely secure because- because of the water, you know, the water traps for the boats?" He looked up hopefully. Legala smiled icily.
"None of the traps worked. We sent decoys first, and they sprung the traps for us." Lalorn's face fell, and he frowned bitterly.
"I'm not telling you any more today. I need- I need to think," Lalorn said, head in his hands. Legala's mind raced. Something was telling her not to let him alone, but why? Suddenly she knew, and she sighed, standing up.
I feel sick.
"Guard?" she said, calling down the hallway. An elf sentry appeared a few moments later. Legala stepped out of the cell, and locked it behind her.
"Yes, my lady?"
"Have someone watching the prisoner at all times. I think he's going to try to kill himself."
The doors to the prison shut behind them with a thud. Legala gasped, and sat down, breathing heavily. "Oh, Valar, she moaned. "It's worse than I thought." Haldir quietly sat down on the ground beside her as she sank to her knees.
"It was worse than we all thought," he said quietly. "That was quite manipulative back there, Legala. You played him like a harp. I assume that you don't use those skills often-"
A strangled sob rose from Legala. Haldir drew her into one of the side hallways, alarmed. "What? What's wrong?"
"A s-strong leader doesn't show weakness t-to anyone," she mumbled. "A good leader is r-responsible for everything that happens, and prevents the mistakes..."
Haldir sighed. "You've cried in front of me before. One more time can't hurt."
"Oh yes it can-" she choked, practically strangling herself. She shoved his hands away and for a few minutes the only sound was her breathing, harsh and ragged. Slowly, her breaths became less erratic, and smoothed out. She sighed.
"I wish I could use you as a crutch, Haldir, but I can't. I can't depend on anyone but myself. It has to be this way. I'm going to be leading a veritable army of mages, into battle against someone we've always thought was completely incapable of evil- like finding out a god you have worshipped for centuries has been devouring innocents behind your back. I cannot be weak. I must be the one that everyone else leans upon." She turned back to face Haldir, the redness leaving her eyes, as she smiled weakly at him.
"But I still need someone; at the very least a friend. Even I am not that foolish. Please, just- just don't let me depend on you."
Haldir nodded acceptingly. He let Legala lean against him for support as she sorted her mind out, absentmindedly patting her on the head. He had some sorting to do of his own.
I'm worried. Not just for myself and my brothers, not anything like I know. I'm worried for Legala. But why... I suppose you could call us friends, then. She is the most compelling woman I have ever met, after all and-He stopped, smiling faintly.
This is madness. I love no woman. I am sure... I cannot love Legala. It is impossible. This is an attachment, a friendly one. It is not love. After all, look what she is capable of doing! Doubtless she feels sick about it, but still... Haldir. Never trust a politician. Isn't that the first thing you learned?
Legolas felt the warmth of Haldir against his back. He sighed, relaxing. He's here. It'll be all right. As long as I have someone like him by my side, I can't fail...He groaned. Valar, that was grueling. I don't like shouting matches with disturbed people... I don't like it, I don't! It makes me feel disgusting inside. But I'm all right. I'm all right. I had to do it for my country. And Haldir doesn't hate me, not yet. I still have some control over things.
He smiled, as he and Haldir both got up.
Well. If this isn't love, then I don't know what love is.
tbc
A/n: . Yes, this will be slash. Duh. Hel-lo? Read my profile! And yes, I am repenting even as I type this for not making it a longer chapter. Sorry peeps. ;;. I'm so guilty. Ha! Ha ha ha! I'm getting away with it though!!! :P oh and by the way, review me or I'll shoot you in the head. And, Silva darling, I'm sorry for the long wait in updates. Peace out, y'all!
Hey there dudes. How are you? I'm so siked- it's FINALLY vacation. I have to write a lot of course... but I love writing! AHAHAHHAA!
Ahem. 0.o I hope no one who speaks Spanish reads this, because I didn't use the accents or the proper punctuation... hides with computer under a rock Type time!!!
Disclaimer: waves to Bill Gates Hey there! Guess what I want for MY birthday, Billyboy! gets hauled away by security
Chapter Ten: Painfully Different
Legolas sighed wearily as he laid his head down on the pile of maps. Uuuuuugh.
Haldir quietly took the empty mug out of Legala's unmoving fingers. He gestured towards the pot. "More, Your Highness?"
Legala frowned irritably. "No, and cut it out with the Your Highness. All I need really badly is a shoulder massage. Valar, my neck has a kink in it..." Haldir coughed.
"Well, I have no idea how to give a shoulder massage... And you have to get to bed soon. You're recovering from a poisoning, you shouldn't even be walking about."
Legala pouted. "Well, I have one more thing to do..."
Haldir raised one eyebrow. "'One' ?"
"Really! I mean it, just one more thing. I have to make a trip to the prisons... to see the Elf who tried to- you know. Anyway, it's absolutely urgent, so don't try and talk me out of it, and I don't want to hear any sarcastic comments from you while we're down there-"
Haldir's other eyebrow raised. "You want me to come with you?"
"For three reasons. One, you're a bodyguard-like figure. Two, you can provide an emotional support for me while I walk through the prisons, and three, I can't feel my legs." She sighed and glared at the chair she had been sitting in for the past four hours.
"Well, what can I say? Your powers of persuasion work wonders on me. Let's go now; the sooner we get this over with, the sooner we'll both be in bed."
Legala choked and started to giggle. She covered her mouth with her hand, and instead shook with silent laughter. Haldir frowned. "What?"
"Nothing..."
"Tell me!"
"... Well, if you're so impatient, we could go to bed right now..."
"You know what I meant! In separate beds!"
"Sure, sure, Haldir. Whatever you say." She got up slowly, wobbling on her feet. Legala yawned, throwing her head back. She sighed as she looked down at her dress.
"Oh, no." It was folded and messed after four hours, and a lot of the cloth was in permanent creases. It would take days of hanging for the creases to come out. Legala sighed again.
"I have to change... I think I'll be wearing a black dress for the prisons. I think it would fit the mood. Powder, too, of course. Drat. I hate having to go out in public to get anything done." Haldir rolled his eyes, his own clothes in mint condition. Legala paused.
"I'll just pretend I didn't see that."
Haldir smiled. "See what?" he added cheerfully.
The Elf's hair was knotted, matted in a huge mess behind his head. Across the far end of his cell, a hairbrush had been thrown. He was resolutely refusing to move, buried in his own small corner of the stone room.
Legala sat across from him, legs neatly folded underneath her. Her own hair was underneath her hood. She breathed in once, deeply. Then she stared at the Elf.
"Who are you?" she asked neutrally. The prisoner scowled, and spat at her. She ignored it.
"Who sent you?" she asked, in the same monotone. The Elf crossed his arms over his chest.
"You're not getting anything out of me."
"So your leader does inspire loyalty. Interesting."
The Elf blinked. He cautiously let his mouth's fixed scowl lessen a bit. Legala raised one slender, sculpted eyebrow. He snorted.
"You can call me Lalorn, dog," he muttered, and looked pointedly away from Legala's face.
Legala sighed. "Who sent you?" she asked again, using a bit of force behind her words. "Can you tell me anything?"
"Can. Won't. You filthy, tainted- beasts think you deserve to live on this green earth? You've allied yourselves with THEM." The hatred burning through Lalorn's eyes was like a blow. Legala smiled inwardly. Now we're getting somewhere.
"Who's 'them'?" she asked conversationally, as if there was nothing at all unusual going on. Lalorn glared at her vehemently.
"Filthy Men. You've let them carve away the forest, rip up the roots of the grass! Burning, biting, breaking, they come like a plague upon Arda. And you... you untouchables. You've let them! Filthy sons of pigs, dogs!" screamed the bound Elf, spittle flecking Legala's face. He was turning a violent shade of purple, eyes going dark with bordering hysteria.
Men? What on earth...
"But who are you to talk? Making allies with the orcs! You're killing your own kin, and becoming one with the enemy," Legala countered, arms rigid. Lalorn laughed.
"They were like us, once! The orcs were- are- our kin, our own flesh and blood. It is through no fault of their own that they are who they are. And once their minds have been removed from under the sway of the Dark Lord, they are our soldiers to command! They are fighters, fighters for the side of the forest, now!"
Legala's eyes narrowed. "Subverting the minds of orcs? Your great leader must be desperate if he's stooped low enough to enslave the minds of something no better than a beast," she seethed, anger radiating from her in waves. "What else does your fine Leader do? Subvert the finely-honed wits of the dumb animals? Or does he return the power of thought to the wretches before he dominates them once again?"
"You're wrong." Lalorn chuckled. "He warned me that you would be like this. You're so easy to predict, so easy to trigger. You'll be easy prey for us."
Legala stood stiffly. "I," she said in a voice colder than ice, "have not become one with the slaughterers of my people. I suppose that your Leader ensnared the Spiders, didn't he? It sounds like something he would do, this wretch. There is only one thing I have yet to discover, Lalorn. You have given away enough, but tell me-" she paused, smiling like a cat playing with a mouse, "does the Istari even remember who he was?"
Her question was met with silence. Shocked eyes met hers, and then looked away, frantic.
"Come on, Lalorn. Surely you know exactly why I'm questioning you. Since you are, of course, so wise?"
"Of course I do," Lalorn muttered. He looked at her through eyes that bore an uneasy resemblance to a caged animal's. Legala smirked for the show of it. Of course he didn't know. He was playing along, like any other simpleton would. This was a manipulative art, interrogation of the captive. Royalty, again, had to know it. If they were ever taken captive, they had to 'know their enemy', as it were.
"So why can't you simply give your side of the story for the records? We've already won the war. Your master was pitifully easy for our mages to crush. This is purely for the records," Legala said airily, letting her hood fall back with a pompous flick of her wrist. Silver bracelets jangled, sounding not unlike bells.
Lalorn's eyes were all she was watching. A dilation of the pupils... the faintest hint of reddening at the edges where skin met eyeball... a slight discoloration of the iris? Ah, panic. Terror? Definitely near the edge of whatever mental abyss he was trying to keep himself from. Oh, and the lines of the face, easier to read, spelling things out like a map. Four vertical creases between his brownish eyebrows, crow's feet sharply outlined as his cheek muscles rose, mouth slightly open to breathe faster and gain more air, nostrils flared... the adrenaline was rushing through him like a lightning bolt.
Legala didn't let her smirk fall. Inside she pondered gravely. Lalorn's world would be falling apart around his ears, ripped at the seams. Next would come...
"NO. He didn't. He didn't fall! He's too strong to fall! YOU! You weak miserable little worms! Lureanen was-" He choked himself, and leaned back on the stone, eyes tightly shut but still leaking tears. He let out a moan like a tortured beast, crying openly.
Denial.
Lureanen? What? A name, I think. What does it mean? It is not Sindarin. It must be Quenya. Nen... nen is water, isn't it? I heard an elf praying and he called on four elements, I forget when, but nen definitely means water. Lurea? Lurea.... well, lu-re means bad weather... Bad water? Dark water? Dark water. I wish I had paid more attention to those scrolls of Quenya...Legala breathed deeply, and bit her lower lip. This was the most delicate piece of the interrogation.
"You don't have to fear," Legala said gently. "As soon as our healers make sure that nothing is mentally wrong with you, or wipe your memories away for you if you wish, we'll let you go." She ached as the lie slipped out from between her lips. This was the part that made her sick, the promises which were always, eventually, broken...
Lalorn looked at her, miserable. "My master is dead. I have no call to live any longer than I must. What do you want from me? Can't you ask someone else?"
Legala shook her head. "You're one of the only captives in good enough shape to give us anything worthwhile. Now, can you start by telling me why you chose Dimrill Dale as a base?" She tried to keep her tone light.
Lalorn swallowed, and quietly said, "I didn't. My Lord did. He said- he said that you filth would be foolhardy enough to try and bottleneck us there, and it was completely secure because- because of the water, you know, the water traps for the boats?" He looked up hopefully. Legala smiled icily.
"None of the traps worked. We sent decoys first, and they sprung the traps for us." Lalorn's face fell, and he frowned bitterly.
"I'm not telling you any more today. I need- I need to think," Lalorn said, head in his hands. Legala's mind raced. Something was telling her not to let him alone, but why? Suddenly she knew, and she sighed, standing up.
I feel sick.
"Guard?" she said, calling down the hallway. An elf sentry appeared a few moments later. Legala stepped out of the cell, and locked it behind her.
"Yes, my lady?"
"Have someone watching the prisoner at all times. I think he's going to try to kill himself."
The doors to the prison shut behind them with a thud. Legala gasped, and sat down, breathing heavily. "Oh, Valar, she moaned. "It's worse than I thought." Haldir quietly sat down on the ground beside her as she sank to her knees.
"It was worse than we all thought," he said quietly. "That was quite manipulative back there, Legala. You played him like a harp. I assume that you don't use those skills often-"
A strangled sob rose from Legala. Haldir drew her into one of the side hallways, alarmed. "What? What's wrong?"
"A s-strong leader doesn't show weakness t-to anyone," she mumbled. "A good leader is r-responsible for everything that happens, and prevents the mistakes..."
Haldir sighed. "You've cried in front of me before. One more time can't hurt."
"Oh yes it can-" she choked, practically strangling herself. She shoved his hands away and for a few minutes the only sound was her breathing, harsh and ragged. Slowly, her breaths became less erratic, and smoothed out. She sighed.
"I wish I could use you as a crutch, Haldir, but I can't. I can't depend on anyone but myself. It has to be this way. I'm going to be leading a veritable army of mages, into battle against someone we've always thought was completely incapable of evil- like finding out a god you have worshipped for centuries has been devouring innocents behind your back. I cannot be weak. I must be the one that everyone else leans upon." She turned back to face Haldir, the redness leaving her eyes, as she smiled weakly at him.
"But I still need someone; at the very least a friend. Even I am not that foolish. Please, just- just don't let me depend on you."
Haldir nodded acceptingly. He let Legala lean against him for support as she sorted her mind out, absentmindedly patting her on the head. He had some sorting to do of his own.
I'm worried. Not just for myself and my brothers, not anything like I know. I'm worried for Legala. But why... I suppose you could call us friends, then. She is the most compelling woman I have ever met, after all and-He stopped, smiling faintly.
This is madness. I love no woman. I am sure... I cannot love Legala. It is impossible. This is an attachment, a friendly one. It is not love. After all, look what she is capable of doing! Doubtless she feels sick about it, but still... Haldir. Never trust a politician. Isn't that the first thing you learned?
Legolas felt the warmth of Haldir against his back. He sighed, relaxing. He's here. It'll be all right. As long as I have someone like him by my side, I can't fail...He groaned. Valar, that was grueling. I don't like shouting matches with disturbed people... I don't like it, I don't! It makes me feel disgusting inside. But I'm all right. I'm all right. I had to do it for my country. And Haldir doesn't hate me, not yet. I still have some control over things.
He smiled, as he and Haldir both got up.
Well. If this isn't love, then I don't know what love is.
tbc
A/n: . Yes, this will be slash. Duh. Hel-lo? Read my profile! And yes, I am repenting even as I type this for not making it a longer chapter. Sorry peeps. ;;. I'm so guilty. Ha! Ha ha ha! I'm getting away with it though!!! :P oh and by the way, review me or I'll shoot you in the head. And, Silva darling, I'm sorry for the long wait in updates. Peace out, y'all!