A/N I'm back, did you miss me? Of course you did. Anywho, I just want to
let you know that I'm not dead and I'm really sorry for the delay. I hope
you enjoy this new chapter, I think the plot is going to take an
interesting twist.
Chapter six: On the Warpath
Thranduil was having trouble controlling his anger as he and his company rode through the lands of men on their way to Gondor. The elven king wanted to have a word with a certain ranger about broken promises, and he didn't want to do it through a messenger. Aragorn had sworn to him that Legolas's colony would be well protected and was in no way a target for enemy forces. So much for men's promises.
Crossing the river into the kingdom of Gondor, Thranduil's guards became aware of another rider approaching. Drawing their bows, they watched the approaching rider with wariness as it had yet to identify itself. "My lord, shall we shoot?" asked one, looking to his King.
"Come now, don't you recognize me, My King?" shouted the rider as he came within range. "It is I, Voldaril!"
"Hold your fire!" Thranduil commanded, recognizing his advisors voice. As his friend approached, Thranduil clasped hands with him. "Glad am I to see you in one piece, mellon, I thought that you might have perished in the attack, or been captured as my son," Thranduil said, relief shining in his eyes.
"Nay, I escaped the destruction, though many unfortunate souls did not. I tried to warn Legolas that that ranger had turned on him but he would not believe me. I knew us going to Ithilien was not a good idea," Voldaril said, a false lament lacing his tone.
"What do you mean the ranger turned on you?" Thranduil demanded, his rage growing at the thought that Aragorn might have had some part in the deaths of his people.
"Did he not tell you?" Voldaril said with mock surprise. "He traded the colony in exchange for the lives of one of his patrols. We only found out when the orcs attacked us. I thought the king would at least have the backbone to tell his best friend's father why his son is currently in the filthy hands of orcs," Voldaril said, barely containing his sneer at the anger he could see blazing in Thranduil's eyes.
"Do you mean to tell me that that man sold my son for the pathetic lives of a few humans! How do you know this?" the king raged.
"From the orcs," Voldaril said, trying anger this time. "They took those of us that are not warriors captive for a while. One night I heard them joking about the foolishness of the human king that handed them one of the most influential people in all of Arda. It was that same night that Prince Legolas came and rescued us. We were all freed, but Legolas...he was taken."
Thranduil couldn't listen any longer. Beckoning his advisor to join them, he started riding once more at an even greater pace. This kind of atrocity meant war.
Aragorn watched the cave entrance in silence, observing the movement of the orcs just beyond its entrance. They had found the encampment two days ago and had been waiting for the opportune moment to enter and search out Legolas. Last night, it seemed that it had presented itself. A tall cloaked figure had left the cave last night and a closer scout had informed him that this was the one they called their master. With the person in charge absent, it would be easier to gain intelligence about the whereabouts of the guards and their missing elven lord.
Unfortunately someone that had enough skill to destroy an entire elven population would not be easy to take down. They would not be able to actually rescue Legolas for a while longer, a thought that didn't rest easily on Aragorn's shoulders. Motioning to Faramir, he gave the silent command to cover him as he maneuvered around the edges of the trees moving closer to the cave entrance. In his years as king he had not lost his almost elvish stealth and moved undetected into the darkness of the cave, leaving the orc guards in blissful ignorance before going in search of his friend.
How long had he been in this hole or hell, each was an equal description of his new prison. He had given up keeping his eyes open, for it had done nothing to improve his ability to see into the complete black that surrounded him now. Not that there was anything to see aside from the hole that he was buried in.
Buried, in the dark, in a cave. He had had no food since being put in here. What was that? Something was in the room, waiting. For what he didn't know, but something was in there he was certain. Calm down, Legolas this is just what he wants. Was the hole shrinking?
By Valar, he was going to die in here.
Thought I'd try something new with the hole torture thing. Yes, Thranduil is quite pissed. If the whole Voldaril thing confused you, here's what happened. Thranduil thinks that Voldaril has been in Ithilien with Legolas when in actuality he's been directing the orcs in their war against Aragorn. Get it? Got it? Good.
Anywho where was I? Oh yes, REVIEWREVIEWREVIEW and, oh yeah, REVIEW!
Peace, Hobbit Killer
Chapter six: On the Warpath
Thranduil was having trouble controlling his anger as he and his company rode through the lands of men on their way to Gondor. The elven king wanted to have a word with a certain ranger about broken promises, and he didn't want to do it through a messenger. Aragorn had sworn to him that Legolas's colony would be well protected and was in no way a target for enemy forces. So much for men's promises.
Crossing the river into the kingdom of Gondor, Thranduil's guards became aware of another rider approaching. Drawing their bows, they watched the approaching rider with wariness as it had yet to identify itself. "My lord, shall we shoot?" asked one, looking to his King.
"Come now, don't you recognize me, My King?" shouted the rider as he came within range. "It is I, Voldaril!"
"Hold your fire!" Thranduil commanded, recognizing his advisors voice. As his friend approached, Thranduil clasped hands with him. "Glad am I to see you in one piece, mellon, I thought that you might have perished in the attack, or been captured as my son," Thranduil said, relief shining in his eyes.
"Nay, I escaped the destruction, though many unfortunate souls did not. I tried to warn Legolas that that ranger had turned on him but he would not believe me. I knew us going to Ithilien was not a good idea," Voldaril said, a false lament lacing his tone.
"What do you mean the ranger turned on you?" Thranduil demanded, his rage growing at the thought that Aragorn might have had some part in the deaths of his people.
"Did he not tell you?" Voldaril said with mock surprise. "He traded the colony in exchange for the lives of one of his patrols. We only found out when the orcs attacked us. I thought the king would at least have the backbone to tell his best friend's father why his son is currently in the filthy hands of orcs," Voldaril said, barely containing his sneer at the anger he could see blazing in Thranduil's eyes.
"Do you mean to tell me that that man sold my son for the pathetic lives of a few humans! How do you know this?" the king raged.
"From the orcs," Voldaril said, trying anger this time. "They took those of us that are not warriors captive for a while. One night I heard them joking about the foolishness of the human king that handed them one of the most influential people in all of Arda. It was that same night that Prince Legolas came and rescued us. We were all freed, but Legolas...he was taken."
Thranduil couldn't listen any longer. Beckoning his advisor to join them, he started riding once more at an even greater pace. This kind of atrocity meant war.
Aragorn watched the cave entrance in silence, observing the movement of the orcs just beyond its entrance. They had found the encampment two days ago and had been waiting for the opportune moment to enter and search out Legolas. Last night, it seemed that it had presented itself. A tall cloaked figure had left the cave last night and a closer scout had informed him that this was the one they called their master. With the person in charge absent, it would be easier to gain intelligence about the whereabouts of the guards and their missing elven lord.
Unfortunately someone that had enough skill to destroy an entire elven population would not be easy to take down. They would not be able to actually rescue Legolas for a while longer, a thought that didn't rest easily on Aragorn's shoulders. Motioning to Faramir, he gave the silent command to cover him as he maneuvered around the edges of the trees moving closer to the cave entrance. In his years as king he had not lost his almost elvish stealth and moved undetected into the darkness of the cave, leaving the orc guards in blissful ignorance before going in search of his friend.
How long had he been in this hole or hell, each was an equal description of his new prison. He had given up keeping his eyes open, for it had done nothing to improve his ability to see into the complete black that surrounded him now. Not that there was anything to see aside from the hole that he was buried in.
Buried, in the dark, in a cave. He had had no food since being put in here. What was that? Something was in the room, waiting. For what he didn't know, but something was in there he was certain. Calm down, Legolas this is just what he wants. Was the hole shrinking?
By Valar, he was going to die in here.
Thought I'd try something new with the hole torture thing. Yes, Thranduil is quite pissed. If the whole Voldaril thing confused you, here's what happened. Thranduil thinks that Voldaril has been in Ithilien with Legolas when in actuality he's been directing the orcs in their war against Aragorn. Get it? Got it? Good.
Anywho where was I? Oh yes, REVIEWREVIEWREVIEW and, oh yeah, REVIEW!
Peace, Hobbit Killer