"Bring him in!" commanded King Arathorn. Beside him, stood a
young, dark-haired man, very similar to him in physical
features. He was Aragorn, Isildur's heir and heir to the throne
of Gondor. He curiously watched as the elf was being harshly
dragged into the throne room and pushed down on his knees in
front of the king. For the first time in his life, Aragorn saw
an elf, the very creature he was raised to hate. He was
surprised to see the confidence and the pride in the elf's fair
face. Legolas shot him an angry glare, and looked back at
Arathorn with hatred.
Arathorn got up and walked over to Legolas. He grabbed the prince's chin and tilted it up.
"So, you're another elf," spat Arathorn. "I thought you were all gone."
"Most of us are. Other lay slain by your hand!" exclaimed Legolas.
"I know. I did the best I could to rid Middle-Earth of your kind."
"Because you are afraid of us. Your were afraid of us then and you're afraid of us now. The elves were the only race that you did not control with your iron fist. They knew the truth about you, and so you got rid of them so that other people would not find out who you truly are.. You're a coward!"
For those words, Arathorn delivered an angry blow to Legolas' jaw, knocking him back. There was something familiar about this elf, but Arathorn couldn't figure out what. Aragorn watched his father return to his throne, and wondered what made him so angry at the elves in the first place. He was always just commanded to despise, and never told why.
The guards' hands seemed to tire from holding Legolas so tight, so they loosened their grip on Legolas' arms. This was all Legolas needed. He twisted out of their grasp and jumped behind their backs, knocking the two heads together and sending them to the ground. The others charged at him, but he easily dodged them. It was a bit difficult fighting without his weapons, but they were taken when he was captured. This kind of reminded him of when he was a little elfling and he would fight with his brothers just for fun. But now they were dead. Dead, and their blood was spilled by Arathorn. That made him fight even harder.
Aragorn observed this with fascination. He marveled at the elf's agility and grace. The elf was strong, and yet he seemed to fight using none of his strength at all. Arathorn saw the interest his son had in the elf and didn't like it one bit.
Legolas was down to his last guard. He ducked out of the way as the guard tried to punch him, and delivered a powerful blow into the man ribs, knocked him unconscious. At that moment, Aragorn drew a sword from a soldier standing by, and threw it to Legolas. Legolas, surprised, caught the sword, but when Aragorn drew his own, understood it was a challenge. Soon enough, the swords of man and elf were crossed, and the sounds of clashing metal echoed throughout the palace. Blue eyes locked into silver, and anger and pride ran through both opponents.
Though Legolas was a skilled swordsman, he was more accurate with the bow. As Legolas backed up, blocking the blows of Aragorn's sword, he tripped slightly. Any other man would have missed the error, but Aragorn was a great sword master, and took this to his advantage by clouting the sword out of the elf prince's hand, knocking him to the ground, and placing the blade to Legolas' neck. Yet, the Dunedain was not planning on killing him. Both just stayed, staring at one another with nothing in their eyes. No anger, no fear, nothing.
"Enough!" said Arathorn. He go up and walked over to his son, grabbing the sword from his hand. He signaled the remainder of the guards to seize Legolas.
"It is time I finished the last of the elves!"
Arathorn raised the mighty blade, and brought it down, prepared to forever end the life of the last elf on Middle-earth. This was moment the Arathorn waited for, for years. Especially since he recognized the elf as the son of Thranduil and Melian, two elves that Arathorn knew, hated, and feared more than any other of the elves he had killed and banished.
Legolas watched the sharp edged metal come down on him, but he neither shut his eyes, nor shed tears. He watched, proud, prepared to face the death that beheld him.
Hehe! I threw a cliffie at you. Nasty little me. But please review.
Arathorn got up and walked over to Legolas. He grabbed the prince's chin and tilted it up.
"So, you're another elf," spat Arathorn. "I thought you were all gone."
"Most of us are. Other lay slain by your hand!" exclaimed Legolas.
"I know. I did the best I could to rid Middle-Earth of your kind."
"Because you are afraid of us. Your were afraid of us then and you're afraid of us now. The elves were the only race that you did not control with your iron fist. They knew the truth about you, and so you got rid of them so that other people would not find out who you truly are.. You're a coward!"
For those words, Arathorn delivered an angry blow to Legolas' jaw, knocking him back. There was something familiar about this elf, but Arathorn couldn't figure out what. Aragorn watched his father return to his throne, and wondered what made him so angry at the elves in the first place. He was always just commanded to despise, and never told why.
The guards' hands seemed to tire from holding Legolas so tight, so they loosened their grip on Legolas' arms. This was all Legolas needed. He twisted out of their grasp and jumped behind their backs, knocking the two heads together and sending them to the ground. The others charged at him, but he easily dodged them. It was a bit difficult fighting without his weapons, but they were taken when he was captured. This kind of reminded him of when he was a little elfling and he would fight with his brothers just for fun. But now they were dead. Dead, and their blood was spilled by Arathorn. That made him fight even harder.
Aragorn observed this with fascination. He marveled at the elf's agility and grace. The elf was strong, and yet he seemed to fight using none of his strength at all. Arathorn saw the interest his son had in the elf and didn't like it one bit.
Legolas was down to his last guard. He ducked out of the way as the guard tried to punch him, and delivered a powerful blow into the man ribs, knocked him unconscious. At that moment, Aragorn drew a sword from a soldier standing by, and threw it to Legolas. Legolas, surprised, caught the sword, but when Aragorn drew his own, understood it was a challenge. Soon enough, the swords of man and elf were crossed, and the sounds of clashing metal echoed throughout the palace. Blue eyes locked into silver, and anger and pride ran through both opponents.
Though Legolas was a skilled swordsman, he was more accurate with the bow. As Legolas backed up, blocking the blows of Aragorn's sword, he tripped slightly. Any other man would have missed the error, but Aragorn was a great sword master, and took this to his advantage by clouting the sword out of the elf prince's hand, knocking him to the ground, and placing the blade to Legolas' neck. Yet, the Dunedain was not planning on killing him. Both just stayed, staring at one another with nothing in their eyes. No anger, no fear, nothing.
"Enough!" said Arathorn. He go up and walked over to his son, grabbing the sword from his hand. He signaled the remainder of the guards to seize Legolas.
"It is time I finished the last of the elves!"
Arathorn raised the mighty blade, and brought it down, prepared to forever end the life of the last elf on Middle-earth. This was moment the Arathorn waited for, for years. Especially since he recognized the elf as the son of Thranduil and Melian, two elves that Arathorn knew, hated, and feared more than any other of the elves he had killed and banished.
Legolas watched the sharp edged metal come down on him, but he neither shut his eyes, nor shed tears. He watched, proud, prepared to face the death that beheld him.
Hehe! I threw a cliffie at you. Nasty little me. But please review.