A/N Yay, I got reviews!!! And no flames! Yay!! Anyway, this chapter got
written a lot faster than I had planned(even though it is really short)
because I flew home yesterday and I had nothing better to do.... so,
without further blabbings, here it chapter two!!!!
DisclaimerI own nothing......except one thing....I own that character without a name that you'll meet(in the general sense) in the chapter....but besides that, I own nothing!
For nearly three hours, Aragorn and Legolas were pushed and shoved along a faded path that snaked around the wasteland. The group went along in complete silence, except for the occasional grunted orders of the orc leader.
As they made their way up a small hill, Aragorn thought about stopping in his tracks in sitting down in this very spot. His limbs, which had aleady been aching from the hour-long climb down the cliff wall, were screaming in agony and every step sent a jolt of pain up his sore legs. But he knew doing so would only cause him yet more discomfort, if not downright pain, when the orcs would kick him back up to his feet, so he just kept on walking, keeping his eyes fixed on the slowly unrolling ground below him, his breath coming in short spurts.
Legolas could clearly see his friend's discomfort, and though he was better off than the human, he himself was becoming quite sore. He hope they would soon reach wherever they were heading, or his friend would drop down out of pure exhaustion.
When they reached the top of the hill, Aragorn could not hold back a gasp. Below them, down on the other side of the hill, was a large stone fortress, its tall walls rising up to thirty feet into the air. The fort seemed to be made up of several sections, including was looked like a soldiers' barrack, a prison, and a king's hall, though he doubted the wastelands were governed by anything more than stranded orcs and weak goblins. This definetly was not on the map, Aragorn thought, still gaping at the castle that had popped out of nowhere.
A hard shove that nearly made him lose his balance pulled Aragorn out of his thoughts. The orc shoved him again, not quite as hard this time, urging him to start moving. Aragorn look sideways at Legolas, whose face bore an expression of utter surprise, similar to the one that must be resting on his own features.
They quickly made their way down the hill and approached the large solid oak doors that seperated them from the inside of the fortress. The orc leader unhooked a large horn from his belt and blew two short, sharp blasts. Almost instantly, the doors slowly rolled open, revealing the empty courtyard inside.
The orcs pushed the two friends inside and headed for a door that lead to what Aragorn had believed to be a prison. All but two of the bow-wielding orcs remained outside, while the leader and his lieutenant still walked purposely ahead of the two friends.
Aragorn's suspicions of the building's uses were proved to be correcr. Legolas and Aragorn were led through a serious of damp, dark passages, passins empty cells and doors that led of to other part of the building. They went down several sets of staircases, burying themselves deeper and deeper into the ground.
Aragorn could almost feel his friend growing more and more nervous as they made their way down more bottomless passages. The elf had always cherished open space, and being trapped between walls of earth this way made him very uneasy.
Finally, after several minutes of descending, the ground leveled off. They turned the corner to find themselves into an open room. Legolas's eyes widened at the sight and he couldnt suppress a quiet gasp.
In the center of the room, a tall wooden post had been implanted into the packed-earth floor, worn leather strips attached to it. And tied to the post was an elf.
An elf maiden to be more precise. Her hands were tied to the post by the leather strips and her cheek was pressed hard against the hard wood. Her eyes were tightly shut and her smooth features were crinkled up in pain. The back of her tunic had been torn to shreds and was held together by only a few remaining strips of clothes, revealed her pale, scarred back.
Behind her stood yet another orcs, this one larger than any mere orc Legolas had ever seen. His head nearly brushed up against the ceiling and he was as wide as three men. He held in one hand a long, leather whip, and in the other a crude, black-bladed knife.
Under Legolas's horrified gaze, the montrous orc brought the whip down on the elf's back. She winced slightly, but her lips remained tightly shut. After two more hits, the orc put his arm down and drew the knife up. His arm moved forwards and the knife's point pricked the elf's back. A single drop of blood rolled downwards overthe scared skin, leaving a red trail behind. The orc quickly made three vertical slashes along her back, leaving crimson trails of blood, a constrast against the pale color of her skin. And still the elf mouth remained close and she utter no sound.
The orc carelessly tossed the knife onto the ground and once again raised the whip. It cracked several times more against the elf's back before the pain became too much. As the whip cracked loudly one more time, the elf's pinched lips part and a piercing, pain filled cry filled the room. Legolas felt as if the scream would tear his heart apart and he itched to go to the maiden to comfort her, but the orc's firm grip on his shoulder prevented him from doing so. His eyes burned with fury towards the orc, that vile creature that inflicted pain for the pure pleasure of it.
The orc snarled in approvement, apparently content with a job well done, and put down the whip.
The lady was breathing hard, pressing herself against the wooden post, trying to hold herself upright. Her eyes fluttered open as the orc started untying her hands, and Legolas's heart broke once again at the darkness that filled her eyes.
Her deep green orbs were clouded in shadows of grief, pain, and despair. Her eyes darted around the room weakly, as if looking for an escape route she knew would not be there. Her gaze met Legolas's as she noticed for the first time that she was no longer alone in the room. Her haunted eyes bore deep into his as she silently pleaded for help.
Legolas could only watch helplessly as the leather ties were undone and her legs crumpled beneath the newly reapllied weight. The orc caught her arm roughly before she hit the ground and jerkily pulled her back up. He then half-dragged, half-carried her out of the room, into the darkness of yet another passageway.
Legolas, still stunned from what he had seen, looked to his friend and saw the same horrified look on Estel's face as he wore on his. His eyes met Legolas's and he shook his head in a nearly apologetic manner.
Legolas's gaze drifted towards the orcs that guarded them, and he was both surprised and disgusted to see them snarling in a manner that would on any other being have been a smile. They had purposely made the elf and human witness the scene, as if warning them of their own fates, and now they were rejoicing in their reactions.
Anger welled up inside Legolas's chest. He had always been one to be protective of his people, both from Mirkwood and the entire elf race alike, and seeing one of his own being treated like they had treated the fair lady was more than he could handle. His recently unbound hands (their bonds had been cut when they had entered the fortress) clenched at his sides as fury boiled up, and without thinking, he turned to the nearest orc and swung his fist at the ugly, snarling face.
Legolas's hand collided with the orc's jaw, sending the beast head crashing into the wall behind him and bruising Legolas's knuckles. He knew his punches would do nothing to permanently harm the orc, but his rage was overriding his common sense, and all he could think of in his wrath was inflicting as much damage as he could to this despicable beast.
However, before Legolas's fist could once again collide with the orc's thick skull, a pain-filled cry resounding behind him made him turn around.
Aragorn lay on the his hands and knees, clutching his stomach and gasping for breath. The leading orc stood firmly behind him, his sword-tip pointed at the base of Aragorn skull.
Legolas froze, worry over his friend's well-being overtaking his desire to pound the orc to the ground.
The orc that held Aragorn at sword-point grunted at one of the bowmen, who swiftly went to grab a length of rope that hung from the wall near the wooden post. He then came back towards the elf, and roughly tied his hands behind his back yet again.
Aragorn was pulled up to his feet and his hands were tied as well. The two friends were brusquely pushed into another tunnel opening, somewhat even roughlier than before.
As Legolas was pushed along the corridors, one desperate thought race around in his mind. There would be no way to escape this time. These orcs were different. By showing them the beating of the elf maiden and attacking Estel, they had done what no orc had ever done before. They attacked neither the body nor the mind. They attacked the heart.
TBC
A/N Review review review!!!! I love reviews, reviews make me happy and happy writers write faster....unless they're the depressive 'everybody-dies- cuz-the-world-hates-me' type of writer.... then bring on the misery...but it just so happens that I'm not a depressive writers, so make me happy and send me reviews!!!!! Oh and sorry it was so short, but if you review ill make the next one longer....hehe....and that my friend, is bribe!
Special thanks to Partheon for the review, your advice really helped. I didnt really apply it to this chapter since it was already written when I read your review, but I'll keep what you said in mind for the next chapter. Though what you said about not changing points of views does make a lot of sense, that's one thing I probably wont be changing, though I'll try to be less eratic about it. I just get kinda bored using the same point of view all the time, and I cant help it. Sorry. Anyway, thanks again for the advice!
Also, just a quick question you might want to answer in your review: which name do you prefer between Adariel and Lariel? Three guesses whose name that would be....hehe
DisclaimerI own nothing......except one thing....I own that character without a name that you'll meet(in the general sense) in the chapter....but besides that, I own nothing!
For nearly three hours, Aragorn and Legolas were pushed and shoved along a faded path that snaked around the wasteland. The group went along in complete silence, except for the occasional grunted orders of the orc leader.
As they made their way up a small hill, Aragorn thought about stopping in his tracks in sitting down in this very spot. His limbs, which had aleady been aching from the hour-long climb down the cliff wall, were screaming in agony and every step sent a jolt of pain up his sore legs. But he knew doing so would only cause him yet more discomfort, if not downright pain, when the orcs would kick him back up to his feet, so he just kept on walking, keeping his eyes fixed on the slowly unrolling ground below him, his breath coming in short spurts.
Legolas could clearly see his friend's discomfort, and though he was better off than the human, he himself was becoming quite sore. He hope they would soon reach wherever they were heading, or his friend would drop down out of pure exhaustion.
When they reached the top of the hill, Aragorn could not hold back a gasp. Below them, down on the other side of the hill, was a large stone fortress, its tall walls rising up to thirty feet into the air. The fort seemed to be made up of several sections, including was looked like a soldiers' barrack, a prison, and a king's hall, though he doubted the wastelands were governed by anything more than stranded orcs and weak goblins. This definetly was not on the map, Aragorn thought, still gaping at the castle that had popped out of nowhere.
A hard shove that nearly made him lose his balance pulled Aragorn out of his thoughts. The orc shoved him again, not quite as hard this time, urging him to start moving. Aragorn look sideways at Legolas, whose face bore an expression of utter surprise, similar to the one that must be resting on his own features.
They quickly made their way down the hill and approached the large solid oak doors that seperated them from the inside of the fortress. The orc leader unhooked a large horn from his belt and blew two short, sharp blasts. Almost instantly, the doors slowly rolled open, revealing the empty courtyard inside.
The orcs pushed the two friends inside and headed for a door that lead to what Aragorn had believed to be a prison. All but two of the bow-wielding orcs remained outside, while the leader and his lieutenant still walked purposely ahead of the two friends.
Aragorn's suspicions of the building's uses were proved to be correcr. Legolas and Aragorn were led through a serious of damp, dark passages, passins empty cells and doors that led of to other part of the building. They went down several sets of staircases, burying themselves deeper and deeper into the ground.
Aragorn could almost feel his friend growing more and more nervous as they made their way down more bottomless passages. The elf had always cherished open space, and being trapped between walls of earth this way made him very uneasy.
Finally, after several minutes of descending, the ground leveled off. They turned the corner to find themselves into an open room. Legolas's eyes widened at the sight and he couldnt suppress a quiet gasp.
In the center of the room, a tall wooden post had been implanted into the packed-earth floor, worn leather strips attached to it. And tied to the post was an elf.
An elf maiden to be more precise. Her hands were tied to the post by the leather strips and her cheek was pressed hard against the hard wood. Her eyes were tightly shut and her smooth features were crinkled up in pain. The back of her tunic had been torn to shreds and was held together by only a few remaining strips of clothes, revealed her pale, scarred back.
Behind her stood yet another orcs, this one larger than any mere orc Legolas had ever seen. His head nearly brushed up against the ceiling and he was as wide as three men. He held in one hand a long, leather whip, and in the other a crude, black-bladed knife.
Under Legolas's horrified gaze, the montrous orc brought the whip down on the elf's back. She winced slightly, but her lips remained tightly shut. After two more hits, the orc put his arm down and drew the knife up. His arm moved forwards and the knife's point pricked the elf's back. A single drop of blood rolled downwards overthe scared skin, leaving a red trail behind. The orc quickly made three vertical slashes along her back, leaving crimson trails of blood, a constrast against the pale color of her skin. And still the elf mouth remained close and she utter no sound.
The orc carelessly tossed the knife onto the ground and once again raised the whip. It cracked several times more against the elf's back before the pain became too much. As the whip cracked loudly one more time, the elf's pinched lips part and a piercing, pain filled cry filled the room. Legolas felt as if the scream would tear his heart apart and he itched to go to the maiden to comfort her, but the orc's firm grip on his shoulder prevented him from doing so. His eyes burned with fury towards the orc, that vile creature that inflicted pain for the pure pleasure of it.
The orc snarled in approvement, apparently content with a job well done, and put down the whip.
The lady was breathing hard, pressing herself against the wooden post, trying to hold herself upright. Her eyes fluttered open as the orc started untying her hands, and Legolas's heart broke once again at the darkness that filled her eyes.
Her deep green orbs were clouded in shadows of grief, pain, and despair. Her eyes darted around the room weakly, as if looking for an escape route she knew would not be there. Her gaze met Legolas's as she noticed for the first time that she was no longer alone in the room. Her haunted eyes bore deep into his as she silently pleaded for help.
Legolas could only watch helplessly as the leather ties were undone and her legs crumpled beneath the newly reapllied weight. The orc caught her arm roughly before she hit the ground and jerkily pulled her back up. He then half-dragged, half-carried her out of the room, into the darkness of yet another passageway.
Legolas, still stunned from what he had seen, looked to his friend and saw the same horrified look on Estel's face as he wore on his. His eyes met Legolas's and he shook his head in a nearly apologetic manner.
Legolas's gaze drifted towards the orcs that guarded them, and he was both surprised and disgusted to see them snarling in a manner that would on any other being have been a smile. They had purposely made the elf and human witness the scene, as if warning them of their own fates, and now they were rejoicing in their reactions.
Anger welled up inside Legolas's chest. He had always been one to be protective of his people, both from Mirkwood and the entire elf race alike, and seeing one of his own being treated like they had treated the fair lady was more than he could handle. His recently unbound hands (their bonds had been cut when they had entered the fortress) clenched at his sides as fury boiled up, and without thinking, he turned to the nearest orc and swung his fist at the ugly, snarling face.
Legolas's hand collided with the orc's jaw, sending the beast head crashing into the wall behind him and bruising Legolas's knuckles. He knew his punches would do nothing to permanently harm the orc, but his rage was overriding his common sense, and all he could think of in his wrath was inflicting as much damage as he could to this despicable beast.
However, before Legolas's fist could once again collide with the orc's thick skull, a pain-filled cry resounding behind him made him turn around.
Aragorn lay on the his hands and knees, clutching his stomach and gasping for breath. The leading orc stood firmly behind him, his sword-tip pointed at the base of Aragorn skull.
Legolas froze, worry over his friend's well-being overtaking his desire to pound the orc to the ground.
The orc that held Aragorn at sword-point grunted at one of the bowmen, who swiftly went to grab a length of rope that hung from the wall near the wooden post. He then came back towards the elf, and roughly tied his hands behind his back yet again.
Aragorn was pulled up to his feet and his hands were tied as well. The two friends were brusquely pushed into another tunnel opening, somewhat even roughlier than before.
As Legolas was pushed along the corridors, one desperate thought race around in his mind. There would be no way to escape this time. These orcs were different. By showing them the beating of the elf maiden and attacking Estel, they had done what no orc had ever done before. They attacked neither the body nor the mind. They attacked the heart.
TBC
A/N Review review review!!!! I love reviews, reviews make me happy and happy writers write faster....unless they're the depressive 'everybody-dies- cuz-the-world-hates-me' type of writer.... then bring on the misery...but it just so happens that I'm not a depressive writers, so make me happy and send me reviews!!!!! Oh and sorry it was so short, but if you review ill make the next one longer....hehe....and that my friend, is bribe!
Special thanks to Partheon for the review, your advice really helped. I didnt really apply it to this chapter since it was already written when I read your review, but I'll keep what you said in mind for the next chapter. Though what you said about not changing points of views does make a lot of sense, that's one thing I probably wont be changing, though I'll try to be less eratic about it. I just get kinda bored using the same point of view all the time, and I cant help it. Sorry. Anyway, thanks again for the advice!
Also, just a quick question you might want to answer in your review: which name do you prefer between Adariel and Lariel? Three guesses whose name that would be....hehe