Chapter five:
Beware the Anger of the Elven King
"Lord Thranduil?" The messenger asked nervously, poking his head through the door he had been shown. He was not exactly looking forward to the meeting ahead of him and he wondered what he had ever done to make King Ellessar send him to Mirkwood to inform King Thranduil of his son's capture.
Thranduil looked up at the visitor, agitated that someone would try to interrupt him while he was working. His rage was stemmed, however, when he realized it was a man of Gondor. "What can I do for you?"
The messenger bowed low, swallowing audibly before giving his message. "My Lord, your son, Lord Legolas, has been captured by enemies of Gondor and Rohan. His colony has also been destroyed with hardly any survivors."
"WHAT!" The messenger cringed at the King's booming voice, once again questioning where he had done wrong. "HOW COULD ARAGORN LET THAT HAPPEN! I KNEW I SHOULDN'T HAVE LET THAT BOY HAVE SUCH AN INFLUENCE OVER MY SON..." Thranduil continued his tirade even as the man slipped out of the room, fleeing to the room he had been given, praying the king wouldn't notice his absence, or shoot the messenger. He just hoped the elf wouldn't take his anger out on King Ellessar, though, judging by the other's reaction, he wasn't feeling very confident.
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"I suppose Thranduil has received my message by now," Aragorn said as he took a seat at the head of the table. He almost thought he had heard Thranduil's scream of rage just now and felt truly sorry for the messenger that he had sent out.
"Oh good, I look forward to him coming here and ripping my head off," Faramir muttered, taking his seat at the right hand of Aragorn. "The last time something like this happened, he threatened to feed me to the spiders."
Aragorn laughed at that comment, remembering well the incident. Legolas and Faramir had been scouting Ithilien shortly after moving there when there were still many evil things living there in the shadow of Mordor. They had run into an orc party that had been down on its luck and was rather hungry for man flesh. The resulting battle had led to a lost tooth for Faramir as well as several broken ribs, and Legolas with two arrow wounds, one of which turned out to have been poisoned. Legolas had nearly died, as had Faramir after Thranduil got word of the escapade. Luckily for him, Aragorn had been there to somewhat calm the worried king as he had learned through his many misadventures with the prince.
"I wouldn't worry about your head so much as mine. When Legolas decided to move here, I promised Thranduil he'd be safe within Gondor's borders. He's going to kill me," Aragorn moaned, putting his head in his hands as the meal was served. It wasn't that he was truly afraid of Thranduil, it was that he couldn't believe he had failed in that trust. He had given his word to protect the little colony and it had been virtually destroyed right under his nose without even his knowledge of it happening.
"Well, we shouldn't worry about that at this moment, Aragorn. Right now we must think of a plan to get Legolas out of there without risking your security, since I know you won't be left behind," Faramir said most reasonably around a bite of beef.
"You should be glad Eowen's in Rohan. She'd bite your head off to see you talk while you eat," Aragorn commented, making the Steward laugh.
"Hey, what better to do when your wife is absent than everything she hates?" he responded, and the two men burst out into that obnoxious laughter that only men can master. "But seriously, we need an attack strategy if we are to rescue Legolas before what ever fiend that has him realizes that he will not be of use to them for information," Faramir said, looking at his king for any suggestions.
Aragorn, for his part, had fallen into deep thought. It was certainly true that he would not be left behind when the rescue party set out, but he knew that he could not be as careless as he used to be. If he was captured as well, it could mean the end of Gondor, something he couldn't allow on any accounts. So, how was he to help rescue Legolas and still make sure he was out of danger. "Perhaps we should find him and then make up a rescue plan after we know the layout of the orc hideout," he suggested going with his fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants instincts.
"We could do that," Faramir said, turning the idea over in his head. "But I fear that it will be difficult to not just charge in there if we see Legolas. Orcs have him and they're not notorious for treating their captives well," he continued with a frown. Aragorn was usually a very well restrained person but....this was Legolas. The King and the Prince were as close as twin brothers and it was doubtful that he would be able to control his rage if, as they all feared, Legolas was being ill treated.
"What other options have we, Faramir?" Aragorn cried, growing annoyed. "We know nothing of our enemies nor do we know anything of the place he is being held. We cannot make a plan without this information. You should know this from your time as a ranger in Ithilien."
Seeing the truth in Aragorn's statement, Faramir relented. "Fine, but we are taking your entire escort plus my own guard or, king or no, I will lock you in here and force you to clean the kitchens."
The thought of having to clean his own steward's kitchens was to funny and Aragorn couldn't help but laugh at the threat. "Are you sure I won't just make matters worse. After all, when my father made me and Legolas clean the kitchens, we usually made matters worse," he said, recalling the old punishment. He sobered then, thinking of his friend. He almost felt like kicking himself for having such a good time while Legolas was out in the wilds somewhere held by some evil villain just because he was a good friend to the King of Gondor. Some friend, laughing and idling while his best friend was in the hands of his enemies. He only prayed he'd make in time to save him.
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"Hello, your Highness," Voldaril called cheerily into the cramped cell his captive was sleeping in. "Isn't it a beautiful day?"
Legolas merely glared at the older elf looking as though he would very much like to rip the villain's tongue out of his mouth and skip rope with it.
"My, aren't we cheerful today. Honestly Young Prince, you shouldn't glare at me like that after I have given you such fine hospitality," Voldaril said without changing the sing song in his voice.
Legolas didn't take the preferred bait but rather asked, " Why are you so cheerful, Traitor? Have killed more innocents lately?"
Suddenly Voldaril ran into the cell, and, before he could put up any defense, grabbed Legolas's hair and smashed his head into the wall behind him. "You know, I don't like that attitude of yours Young One, and the reason why I am so cheerful is that, today, I will finally be able to properly teach you your place." Having said this, he let go of the hair and turned to the orcs he had brought with him. "Bring him," he ordered and the orcs quickly rushed to do his bidding, grabbing him and dragging him behind them.
Legolas, for his part, gasped in pain as his broken limbs dragged across the rough ground of the cave in which he was being held. The fact that this elf had chosen such a place for a layer proved even more so that this creature had long ago stopped being a true elf. He was dragged quite a long way until they came to the torture room, a room he had come to know very well during his time in Voldaril's "care".
There was something new there today, though. A hole had been dug, just big enough for a man to stand upright without hitting his head. He also noticed that every light in the room had been extinguished and the only way they could see was by a torch that Voldaril was carrying.
"You have been assigned new rooms, Legolas. From now on there will be no more of our delightful torture sessions. All you are going to do is stay in this hole. That should be easy enough," Voldaril said, a cruel smirk on his face as he watched Legolas look at the hole in terror. He may not be a true elf anymore, but he remembered being one, and he knew how much his kind loathed inclosed spaces and the starless dark. "Throw him in and lock the top."
Legolas struggled as best as he could with absolutely no useful limbs, but it was futile. He was roughly forced into the hole and a heavy mesh door was closed over top of him, making escape impossible but allowing him to breath. And then they left him alone, in the dark, in a hole and they didn't come back.
ALRIGHTY THEN. So their gonna starve poor Leggy and try and make him lose his mind. That's not very nice. Oh well! Hey, I don't have a muse to yell at me so what do I care? Any way, you know the drill. READ AND REVIEW SO I CAN HAVE SOME NICE E-MAIL WHEN I GET BACK FROM THE GATOR BOWL! Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaase?
Wow, that was pathetic. Anywho.
Peace,
Hobbit Killer