CHAPTER TWENTY
Winner Takes All
"He who loses money, loses much; He who loses a friend, loses much more, He who loses faith, loses all. "
--Eleanor Roosevelt
"I am sorry Legolas, my apologies to you," said King as he entered the room briskly and walked past Legolas' cage, gathering up chain netting. "Business calls and I was born to answer it. You shall have to wait a few more hours to fight. Though, if it gives you any comfort, you have more time to recover," he pointed out ironically.
Legolas glared and said bitterly, "you are in big trouble human."
"You're the one in the cage," scoffed the man back. He strode out of the room quickly. Legolas was left all alone.
He was frightened, this was one of the few time in his life he had ever been truly afraid. He was horribly frightened. It had taken all his strength to hide and an he curled up in the corner of his cage and placed his back to the door. Setting his chin on his knees, he felt his eyes burning.
Tears slid down his bloodied and bruisedmottled cheeks as he cried in frustration and hurt. He was tired of having to be strong. Snuffling back a sob that threatened to burst forth like water against a poorly built damn. The Elf tried to gain control over his emotions.If King came back in and saw him crying, he would never forgive himself.
He was lonely and even though he could control his breathing, he could not control the tears. A few drops and they also stared falling, like the rain in a spring storm. Wiping them away with the back of his hand, the immortal glanced up towards the heavens or in this case, the dirt ceiling. I can't live this life anymore if this is all it is going to be. Please, help me! Somebody help me!
As he had expected, there was no answer and wiping his face dry of tears ,he began to pace his cell. But this offered no comfort, there was none for him to find. Sighing, he sat against the wall again and placed his knees by his chest then he held them tightly with his arms and slipped into a numb sleep of surrender.
>>>>>>>>>
Celebalda and Thalionril stepped forward into the utter darkness of the tunnel. The captain then motioned for his Elves to follow him in their pairs. Glorfindel, Erestor and Aragorn followed together.
There had been an uneven number of nine and so, having already traveled thus far together and knowing each other so well, they had decided to have each other's backs together.
Water, frozen along with minerals, hung from the cavern's ceiling in long icicles with razor points. If a larger one fell it could kill some one easily. The ground was wet in places beneath eh Elves feet and frozen in odd ways.
Erestor commented in a low whisper as he eyed the darkness around them uneasily, "This is just like in a book I read once." Glorfindel looked sharply at the counselor.
"And how did it end?" he inquired curiously.
"They were killed."
"Optimism must be overrated, huh?" Aragorn muttered to himself.
Glorfindel and Erestor both glared at the human. "Last time we checked you were the one in despair."
Aragorn said, "was I now?" He knew he was, but being this much closer to finding Legolas lightened his heart.
They were about ten yards into the tunnel when there was a clang above them and it echoed off the walls eerily, sending cold shivers down the rescuers' spines. Glorfindel whispered into Erestor's ear, "no matter what happens, I want you to take Estel and keep moving."
Erestor hissed harshly, "what do you mean? What are you scheming about now?"
"We aren't alone," murmured the Balrog-Slayer. He looked around and said, "we are being watched and they are waiting for the opportune moment to spring their trap." He nodded up at the rock walls and crevices around them.
"Listen carefully, and you can hear their excited and uneven breathing."
Erestor grimaced. Glorfindel was right and it was frightening. Not that he was right, but what he was right about.
Suddenly there was a slithering sound, like rope sliding along the wall and a loud bang erupted behind them and all immediately recognized it as the sound of a grate slamming.
Celebalda cursed his luck as his Elves bunched up around him and he said, "we are locked in from behind. There is no turning back!" Shouting, he screamed, "Stay together!" Then he drew his sword and there was a swishing resonance as other weapons were whipped out of their sheaths for ample use.
Then there was another sound, the sound of chains rattling and of something humming through the atmosphere of the grotto. With the Elves all bunched together, it was perfectly extracted and they gave cries of dismay as chained nets pinned them to the ground.
Glorfindel heard one coming towards them and shoved Erestor into Aragorn saying tensely, "run! Go! Some one needs to get through! I will meet you if I can! Go!"
"And leave you to get killed?" argued the adviser adamantly. He glared in the darkness and then a chain net fell over him, knocking him to the ground. Glorfindel groped in the lightlessness for the netting and quickly cleared it from Erestor and Aragorn's frames. They stumbled up and Glorfindel screamed, "run!"
Everything was chaos and Erestor and Aragorn were left with no choice but to flee. They ran, but they did not know where, only that it was away.
Glorfindel felt men closing in on him and he drew his sword out, stabbing right and left. But they were impending and suffocating in numbers. He also realized it was hard to tell friend from foe. He was so afraid of killing one of their own that he forced himself so slow his talented fighting skills to what he would expect from a young Elf.
He felt hot blood run over his fingers and his hilt slighter in his hand with moisture as it became slippery with his enemy's blood. It was a sickening feeling, for even though he was a warrior, he was an Elf and not a mercenary. Killing was far from his favorite thing to do, though there were times when it was a relief.
Suddenly he felt something slam into his back and he lurched forward before receiving a sharp blow the back of his skull. A white pain flashed before his eyes and blazed through his every awareness as he stumbled forward a few uneven steps. Then he felt the world reeling beneath is feet and he fell to the ground in numb dizziness.
His sword slid from his grasp and he moaned. He tried to pick it up but he felt insensate and immobilized. The blow to his skull had blurred his sense of reality. He felt the sword touch his hand but he could not grasp it. He was fighting unconsciousness, but it was winning hands down.
It felt eerie, just like death. Maybe he was dying again, he thought with a stab of annoyance. How was it that he wasn't able to maintain a life span on this Middle-Earth? He couldn't figure it out for the life of him and suddenly he felt another blow hit the back of his head as someone kicked out at another as they fought. He heard a cry come from an Elf and he wondered what ever had happened to make an Elf cry out in such a way. From the weight of the blow he could tell it was not an Elven foot and then he plummeted into unknowledgeable darkness.
Erestor and Aragorn stumbled on until they banged into a door. Hearing the cries out in the other Elves, it burned both of their hearts. "I am going to kill him!" seethed Erestor angrily. Mumbling to himself, the counselor said, "stupid, idiotic, utterly insane moron! I hope he is not lying gutted some place." His voice was fearful and had lost its normally cool and flowing attribute.
"I am going back for him!" announced the dark-haired Elf decidedly. He began to walk back down the long corridor they had ran down and Aragorn grabbed his arm.
"He is a warrior, he gave us a job to do, I suggest we do it." The ranger said, "Legolas and Rothinzil are back there. We an rescue them and then go back for the others."
Erestor looked genuinely torn and he quivered in emotional pain. Aragorn expressed his understanding, "I know what you feel like, but Legolas and Rothinzil are in desperate need and Glorfindel can look after himself."
Erestor gave a twisted snicker and said, "you, Legolas, Rothinzil, the twins, are incapable of keeping yourselves safe." He sighed and wiped his hand across his brow, clearing away the perspiration that came from nervousness. "We have reached the end of this corridor, now where do we go?"
His hand came to rest on the handle of the wooden door handleand he grasped it. "This is a door." He had never felt so stupid. He had siad that like it was greatest thing in the world. How humiliating!
Aragorn nodded in the dark. He felt dizzy and if it wasn't for the blackness of the mines he was certain he would be seeing shapes dancing all around. His breath felt so hot and he shivered. His shoulder was against Erestor's and the adviser examined in a startled voice, "are you alright?"
Aragorn brushed off the inquiry hastily. "Fine. Never better." The last thing he needed was Erestor trying to play the role of the nurse. An honorable role no doubt but Erestor was not cut out for it. The ranger pulled his cloak snugly about his lean frame, staving off the feverish chill he felt even in his eyes. To be honest, he felt beyond miserable.
"Open the door," he suggested quickly to draw attention away from him as he thought of the plight his friends could be in.
The Elf wrinkled his forehead and narrowed his eyes into dark silver slits. "I know what you are doing." His voice was soft and he said, "you need to rest. I do not know exactly what is wrong with you, but humans and cold never have mixed well in the past."
"Please just open the door," begged the ranger adamantly.
"Estel, your father-"
"Please!" He felt like he was going to throw up and if he didn't get moving, he knew he would. His stomach was flipping and he felt like his insides were about ready to pour out of his mouth. The thought alone sickened him worse and he placed a hand over his mouth in the dark to avoid lurching forward to expel his stomach contents.
Erestor turned the doorknob and was shocked by the inside of where they were. There was a large pit in the center of the floor. It was deep and wide with straw lining the bottom. Torches in cones against the walls, driven into the soft dirt and small gravel shed light throughout the dusty and foul smelling room.
A layer of smoke floated above them and Erestor coughed as he walked forward. "What happens here?" he asked aloud before he could catch himself.
Aragorn went and stared over the edge of the pit and saw what he had expected. Blood stained straw littered the bottom of the hole and some of it was fresh. There was a large place where someone or something must have lain in their own blood for hours before being disposed of.
It was sickening and he thought of his Elven-friends who had disappeared and been taken here. What if that was Legolas or Rothinzil's blood that coated the lining of the excavation? He could see it so vividly it made tears spring to his eyes as he thought about their eyes, searching the crowds for help that would never come.
"This is where they fight," Aragorn muttered in a trance as Erestor came to stand beside him.
The Elf's eyes fell upon a lone figure in the pit. He was sitting against the wall, watching them intensely. His green eyes were filled to brimming with wrath and scorn. His red hair fell about his bloodied face. His ribs were evident on his thinning frame and the counselor asked across the hole. "Who are you?"
The being laughed insanely yet it made sense and said, "someone who is going to die sooner or later." His answer was the one of a being who has accepted his fate and was trying not to see the dark side of it.
He held his wrist closely against his body and Aragorn looked sidelong at Erestor before the counselor turned his attention back to the injured being. "What happened to your wrist?" he questioned in a kind and yet demanding voice. His eyebrow furrowed as he scrutinized he small redhead. "Are you an Elf?"
"I must say I am indeed pleased," said the other. "I was beginning to think I was battered beyond recognition."
"You nearly are," responded the dark-haired Elf-lord quickly. 'What happened to you?" His eyes fell upon the cradled wrist.
"I broke my wrist. As soon as King comes back he will slay me," the redhead said serenely. "Such is my fate, I suppose." He muttered something else totally inaudible. "He will slay me unless I find a way to get free first," he added fiercely. And he meant to do just that.
"Have you seen a blonde and dark-haired Elf?" asked Aragorn, distraught. He circled the rim of the pit that was the small being's prison so he could get closer. "What is your name?"
The little Elf cackled and said, "my name is Caranfëa. And if you are looking for Legolas and Rothinzil, they are not here. Legolas is in his cage. That is where he is kept by King quite often. Rothinzil, he is dead, at least as far as I can tell."
The words stabbed Aragorn like a javelin through the heart only he thought this wave of information had to be far more painful than a physical wound. A physical wound could heal or if it killed you, it was more merciful. He felt himself reeling and Erestor's hands on his shoulders to steady him. The dark-haired immortal asked, "where is he being held?"
Caranfëa wheezed around a jolt of pain up his arm, "the back door, behind me, go through there and you shall find him. The other doors lead into the mines."
There was no way to save the little Elf now and it hurt both the companions deeply. "We shall return for you," said Aragorn reassuringly.
"Don't bother, I won't be here," said Caranfëa bitterly. "Thank you for your offer, though." He curled his knees into himself and braced his back against the wall of his dirt prison.
As he gazed up at the lantern, he felt his vision blur. He had more than broken his wrist. His insides were bleeding and he knew it. But he wasn't about to tell them. His time was over. Legolas was his prince and in a way his friend. Legolas had a chance.
Erestor just looked at Aragorn and the ranger's eyes were transfixed upon the sorrow stricken Elf below them. "Estel, you go and find Legolas, I am going to get him out." Erestor's face turned hard with a bright and fierce conviction. He was not going to leave this Elf to torment and death. If Aragorn went to get Legolas, they would have enough time.
Aragorn hesitated and opened his mouth to argue but the words didn't come. The snap of his jaw closing echoed throughout the room, bouncing off the damp rocks. He couldn't argue. First of all there was no time, secondly, he couldn't find the words to say.
He turned and began to run towards the door behind Caranfëa, with an accelerating heart as he predicted the horrible and heart slamming condition he would find his friend in. His hood fell back and the dark mantle of a cloak flapped behind him.
He place his hand on the door and pulled it open. What happened would be forever burned into his mind.
Legolas' head jerked up quickly. His eyes were large and Aragorn noticed that they were wet. Streaks ran down the cheeks from the red rimmed eyes against the dirty and bruise mottled face. The eyes not only spoke of a twinge of fear, but pain.
Aragorn saw the blood on his blonde friend's face and wounded and tired look that contorted Legolas' features that were usually so full of life. He noticed the droop on the proud shoulders and the thinner frame of Legolas body from starvation.
He wondered whom Legolas had expected, for the Elf just gapped but the fear had not left his face and the weariness remained. The immortal captive stammered in a hoarse whisper, "Estel?" The Elf blinked in disbelief. "Is it really you?"
Aragorn stumbled through his emotional pain and shock to the bars and put his hands on them. "Legolas, it is I. I have come. Don't worry. I am going to get you out of here," he promised with a choking voice that squeezed off towards the end. "You look terrible."
Legolas stumbled up and Aragorn hissed in deep sympathy as he saw the healing over wound on the Elf's chest and the way he walked with a limp. Aragorn saw stitches in the wound that ran the length of the Elf's upper leg. The legging was dirty and Aragorn felt a stab of worry when he realized that an infection was likely to set in. "Estel," Legolas repeated with a comfort filled voice as he saw his companion's friendly face again.
Aragorn reached a hand through the bars and he brushed Legolas' cheek. It felt so cold and the prince jerked away quickly as the man's fingers gently rubbed a bruise. "Legolas, you are freezing to death," noted the man anxiously. "You are starving!" He continued, "and look at your wounds!"
Legolas shook his head and said, "you have to leave! You are in grave danger!"
Aragorn felt his temper flaring up and he snarled at Legolas' cruel treatment, "never mind! Who did this to you?" The human's voice was thick with wrath. His fingers lightly ran over the laceration remains on the prince's chest and Legolas grasped his friend's hand tightly.
"Estel, please," begged Legolas urgently. "You are in grave danger! Please leave!" He had wanted to be rescued, but now that Aragorn had come, he was terrified for his friend's life. If that Dark Dúnadan, King, got hold of him he would do only Valar knew what to him.
Aragorn jerked at the rusty lock on Legolas' cage harshly and desperately, causing the jarring sound of metal on metal to ring through the room. "I don't care what they do to me my friend. I won't leave you here one more minute," guaranteed the ranger as he pulled at the lock some more.
Legolas reached through the bars and grasped the human's hand firmly in his cold one. "Aragorn," he said slowly. "I want you to leave and never come back."
Aragorn felt like he had just been struck by lightening. The pain of that statement was horrible. It was simply impossible to describe. He stammered, "Legolas are you sure that you are sane?"
"You are going to get killed," the prince said seriously as his eyes locked with Aragorn's in an intense and fearful look. "I want you to leave, now and promise me you will never return."
"I never thought I would live to see the day a friend of mine tells me to make a promise I can't keep!" snapped Aragorn bitterly. "You are out of your mind with weariness and sorrow." His eyes became hard as he addressed the Elf sternly.
Legolas unwound Aragorn's fingers from their tense grip on the lock and he folded them into the wavy-haired man's hand and held them there. "One of the things you need to learn is when to let go." He smiled. "You will be a great King, son of Arathorn. This is just another step you must take."
Aragorn felt tears spring into his eyes as he realized Legolas had given up. Of all the things he had believed in, this one was one thing he had always thought he would never see. He felt a sob building up inside, but he held it back and instead a cough broke lose, followed by a cascade of others that were far worse. Legolas gripped his shoulders through the bars to support him. "You are sick. Your father will be furious," he chided very much like a mother would.
"I can save you, Legolas," lamented the human quietly as he held Legolas' gaze. "I can't leave you here to die after a tormented life." He pulled free of the Elf's now loose grip and faced the prince. "I am going to stay with you if nothing else."
He knew he could not free Legolas. He could not open the lock and Legolas was still not thin enough to fit through the bars, but if his captor kept starving him he sure would. He would just have to get captured with Legolas to protect him.
Legolas cried in a torn voice that was broken up, "I won't let you Strider! No!" His face spoke of absolute trepidation. His eyes turned large in fear, as though a Balrog had just proclaimed him his next victim.
"It is the only way…the only way," said the man with a despairing shake of his head.
A cry came from the other room and Aragorn remembered Erestor with a jolt. "Oh-no!" he said. "Erestor!"
Legolas looked even more terrified, if that was possible. "Lord Erestor is here?" he asked in a trembling voice. "Estel, you have to get him out of here quickly. This man, King, he hates him with a passion. If he gets his hands on him, he will do something horrible to him."
Aragorn winced as another cry came from the room and he said, "sounds like it is too late to me." He turned and said, "I will be back Legolas! I promise mellon nin!"
He stumbled forward and out of the door. What he saw was shocking.
Erestor was in the pit by the red-haired Elf's side with his sword drawn. A grim and angered look adorned his features as he snarled, "Beleg," he addressed the man by his former name that had been too good for him."So this is the cruel business you have been about since you left?" His voice was thick and his eyes looked dangerous.
King laughed with icy merriment, "so you haven't heard about what happened about those poor Elves I killed?" He sighed in mock disappointment and said, "I shall have to remember to make better examples. Maybe I shall start with you, counselor!" Two men stood in the shadows, watching the conflict between Erestor and their leader with smirks.
"That wouldn't matter, human!" Erestor said confidently. "You can't intimidate a lot of Elves by killing a few. You will only succeed in making their vengeance the greater and far more satisfying."
"You are in no position to be speaking to me thus," said King in an equally smooth and yet threatening voice. He leveled his crossbow and said menacingly, "I have this aimed for your heart Erestor, unless you stop this foolish mutual insulting, then I shall be forced to shoot you. I really don't want to do that, we have hardly got to know each other."
Aragorn didn't know what to do. He watched with wide eyes and then he drew out his sword and it rang faintly. King jerked his eyes towards Aragorn and the noise. He saw the ranger and he aimed his bow with lethal accuracy towards Aragorn's forehead.
He never had the chance. Erestor lunged up and slammed his shoulder into King's violently, lurching the aim off course. But he was not able to spare himself getting inured and King's knife and quick reflexes turned out to be a force to he reckoned with.
The dark-haired adviser felt a stab of pain race through abdomen and he looked down to see a cut across his middle, flaring bright red in blood. It wasn't deep, but it was painful and he drew in a wheezing breath in the chock of it.
Aragorn was able to dodge the projectile meant to kill him and he leaped down to Erestor's aid. The counselor saw him and cried out abruptly and in dismay, "what are you doing?" The two men from the shadows ran forward with their crossbows bent as well, their aims on Aragorn and Caranfëa.
King suddenly came at the scholarly Elf and grasped hold of a lock of the dark hair, twisting it and forcing the injured Elf's head back, his chin pointing towards the ceiling. Erestor struggled and bucked in his grasp, but King placed his knife against the counselor's throat, pressing it in.
Caranfëa was up and as Aragorn was about to run towards Erestor despite the menacing arrows, he stopped the ranger. "He won't seriously hurt him yet," said the small red-head and he placed his good hand on the human's chest in a gesture to withhold him as King pulled Erestor around so his head was up against his chest and spat in the adviser's face;
"The tables have turned Elf."
Erestor struggled some more and said in an even voice was he felt his furor flaring up to match his stubborn pride, "human, you will regret this when my friend comes."
"Not likely," sneered the man as he forced Erestor's narrowed and stormy eyes to meet his. "Half of those Elves are dead, the others are in chains." Erestor' worked his jaw and kept the color on his face despite its want to drain away.
"How are you so sure?" asked the furious immortal as the man knocked his feet out from under him with a kick from his own, causing the counselor of Elrond to jerk against the blade that was against the bare skin of his neck. His abdomen wound stretched, causing considerable pain that made him want to curl into a tight ball.
King turned his bitter and yet amused glare upon Aragorn and Caranfëa. "Hello, ranger," he smiled brightly, but it was full of ice and steel and about as welcoming as the smile of a warg. "What brings you here?"
"I came for my friend," said Aragorn thickly, and around another set of coughs that threatened to erupt. He felt ill again. The room was growing cloudy to his eyes and he used all his strength to keep from falling over with dizziness. The venom was rebounding. He knew it.
"I am sorry to hear that," his consolation was less than appealing and anything but comforting. He ran the knife that he had against the struggling Elf's throat earlier along the adviser's ear tips as though deciding whether he should do away with the graceful points.
Frowning, he pulled Erestor up and said, "get on your feet." Erestor didn't do anything. He just met the man with a pair of ice edged eyes, narrow and furious. It was look that said, and-you-expect-me-to-do-that-why?"I hate you," said the man wearily. "You get on my nerves so."
"You are going to be even more sorry soon," spat Aragorn darkly at the other man before he made a move to go by Erestor's side.
"Drop your weapons ranger."
Legolas slammed himself against the bars of his cell and shook them frantically. He had bruises already forming on his upper arms from where he had thrown himself against the cage door.
Aragorn was out there and needed him. He didn't care about himself and his reached through the bar, grabbing the lock and pulling on it, banging it against the bars to no avail. "Estel!" he cried out in grief. "You are an idiot!" he wept, "a blessed, loyal idiot!"
He clashed against the bars once more and then he pressed his forehead against the cool metal in despair. He was so frightened and he felt so weak. Shivering now from cold and fear, the Elf just put all his weight against his forehead that was against the iron barriers.
He heard footsteps and saw Aragorn being dragged in with tight bonds on his wrists. The man pulling him in he immediately recognized as Jaerden, the man who had been responsible for the horrible torment he had recently under gone.
Aragorn's gray eyes met Legolas and they plainly said, you aren't alone, mellon nin. I am here and I am not going to leave you.
Legolas felt sick with fear, not for himself anymore, but for his friend. His felt his own clenched hands were cold and clammy. His tongue felt swollen in his mouth and his legs threatened to give under him. Willing them to stand took all of his strength.
He had to protect his friends.
The prince's eyes went hard and he glared, "let them go King."
He smiled and scoffed, "need another 'session', my little princling?" The smile grew to a broad grin and he said, 'luckily for you Legolas, I have a new toy. Lord Erestor shall be my new little project." He placed his hand in Erestor's ebony hair and was about to run his fingers through it tauntingly when the Elf yanked his head disdainfully away.
"Do not touch me," the litterateur of an Elf defiantly as he felt the crossbow's projectile point dig warningly into his spine, opposite his heart. Aragorn jerked in his bonds to try to get to Erestor's side. Jaerden held him tightly and twisted the cords so that they bit into Aragorn's flesh. He then jerked the young man sharply to the side, slamming him into the wall brutally.
The force of the blow stunned Aragorn for minute and everything seemed to merge into one blurry picture.
Legolas saw Aragorn's eyes go blurred and nearly cross. Had the moment not been so dire, the prince might have found it funny. Now he felt his anger flaring up and he commanded in a low and lethal voice, "don't do that again."
Jaerden asked in a sneer, "and what are you going to do about it Blue Eyes? He finished, referring the widened cerulean orbs. He twisted the bonds on the man's wrist tighter and Legolas' face seemed to get more furious and more anxious all at once. The captor smiled and said, "is this the friend you were waiting for, Elf?"
Legolas didn't answer, but his eyes spoke his fear and anger for him. They were hardened and looked like if he blinked they would shatter like glass. King commanded Jaerden, "place the ranger with Legolas."
The Dark Dúnadan then spun Erestor around to face him and said, "your accommodations are going to be a little different."
Erestor smirked, "if you say so." His voice was edged with bitterness and laced with sarcasm that he was unable to contain even if he had wanted to, which he didn't. His eyes spoke of a temper that was dangerous and barely being withheld. Erestor decided to hold it, only because if he let if rage out he would find himself in hotter water.
"If anything, over the years you have gotten more annoying," said the man tiredly and he sighed before saying as though he was talking to a honored guest, "well I would love to stay and chat, but I have Elves to cage and kill and a fight to attend tonight. So I will have to show you to your room and leave you alone for a time. Of course, you will have plenty of time to think about everything that has transpired."
"I think by 'room', you mean 'cell' and you aren't going to get away with this," he added flatly for what had to be around the third time.
"I prefer to call it a 'room'. After all, you are my guest, "said the man and he grinned. "I am getting away with it."
Erestor watched as Aragorn was shoved in with Aragorn and the door slammed so the offensive sound of metal on metal could be heard all around. He winced inwardly as he realized that Beleg now called King, was right and was getting away with this.
Deciding that being quiet would be a far better choice than saying something's that could be very satisfying to point out but more painful to pay for, Erestor just set his jaw and spared with King in a baleful glare.
The captor just returned it so equally that Erestor actually felt like he was nearly matched. A millennia old Elf-lord and his glare was matched by a mortal. It was insanely annoying. His wound began to throb and during the excitement and anxiety of the moment he had actually forgotten it. It must have felt the need to remind him of its painful existence.
Looking down at his abdomen, he saw the scarlet stain and the laceration, ugly and burning. It made him feel sick and so he tore his eyes from it as he was pulled along.
While Erestor was lead away to a prison far more in the back and in the darkness, Aragorn and Legolas had a chance to talk.
The prince's eyes looked like a severe thunderstorm had made its home in them and he snapped, "this has to be the most stupid thing you have ever done, ranger." Legolas placed his hand on Aragorn's forehead, checking the temperature and was not surprised to find it considerably high. "What were you thinking?" he growled.
Aragorn noticed the Elf's hand trembled and he said, "I was thinking of you, bloodied and in pain." He tried to pull away as the blonde being insisted on checking his pulse.
Legolas gripped his wrist hard and Aragorn said, "Ow! Alright!"
Displeased by what he found, Legolas shook his head and said, "if you get any worse you are in major trouble." The heartbeat was erratic and it was definitely getting slower, though it was strong. Then he asked a question as close to his heart as they came, "have you seen Rothinzil?"
The ranger paused in mid-breath and his eyes tore away from Legolas' frantic ones. "I am told he is dead."
Legolas looked away and his breathing became deep and stressed, like he was hurting physically. Which he was, but not that much. "How did he die?" asked the blonde immortal.
"I don't know, maybe he didn't."
As Aragorn looked at Legolas Elven face he suddenly wondered if he would ever see his friend laugh again. He loved how Legolas could find mostly anything humorous. But not this and Legolas' bright look in his eye had gone dull and his spirit seemed gutted. "How long has it been since you have laughed, mellon nin?"
"Too long. But I don't think I ever shall again."
Aragorn looked at Legolas with worried gray eyes and sorrow on his face. "Death comes in many forms, not least of which is spiritual." The prince smiled weakly and anyone could tell it was forced.
"You sure are optimistic."
"I am not the one giving up." He brushed Legolas' hand away from where they were checking his pulse again. "And stop that!"
"You need looked after," said Legolas matter-of-factly. "I really don't want you to leave me now." He wanted Aragorn to have escaped and was furious with the ranger for not but he couldn't stay angry for long. He finally had someone to talk to and it felt so good to get everything off his chest.
No it was Aragorn's turn to play the stubborn healer and he said, "what did they do to you?" He felt his throat constricting again as he thought of the first expression he had seen on Legolas' face. "Why was your face streaked with tears when I found you?"
Legolas knew it was no use denying he had been crying and he turned away. "They were very cruel. Can we leave it at that?" It was more of a statement than a question but all the same, it required an answer.
"No, we can't." The man sighed and placed his hand gently on Legolas' bare shoulder to spin the prince around. He jerked it back in alarm and said, "you are freezing!" For the first time he noticed the cold and their breath frozen in clouds after it left their mouths. Slipping his cloak off, he started to put on Legolas' shoulders.
"Don't you dare!" started the prince. Aragorn proceeded to give the prince the mantle. But he saw the whip weals on the Elf's back before he set the cloak on and hissed in sympathy. How much had they put Legolas through?
The Elf's voice was soft and quiet. "Thank you." He pulled the cloak tighter about himself. Aragorn nodded.
"You're welcome." He then asked the question again, "what did they do to you?"
Legolas began to shake and he stumbled over to the back of their prison to sit down in the straw. "They did a lot. Beat me, half drown me," As he spoke, he mouth throbbed and he winced. Aragorn then noticed the blood running from the corners and was immediately concerned about internal bleeding.
Legolas shook his head and said, "it isn't what you think." He felt the metallic taste of the chain return to his mouth as he said, "I was forced to wear a chain around my tongue so I could not eat, talk or drink."
Aragorn commanded firmly, "open your mouth."
Legolas was hardly willing to comply and he shook his head. "That sounds like something my mother would have said." He curled up into a tighter ball as he sat with his back to the prison wall. Suddenly he stiffened as he heard the scratching noise from the wall beyond. The rocs were back. "And that sound is the sound of orcs breaking in."
"I don't hear it," claimed the ranger as he strained his hearing to its limits. But he knew Legolas' hearing was at least ten times as strong as his own.
"Neither does King or Jaerden. But they have only to remove an large boulder before they break through and wreak havoc." Although, right now the prospect of orcs and death seemed a welcome thing. He placed his chin on his knees and said, "I am glad you are the one with me. Here at the end of all hopes and dreams. I was wrong to be so ungrateful for your gift and sacrifice of companionship at this moment. Forgive me, Estel."
Aragorn was surprised Legolas could say his Elvish name with a straight face. He obviously didn't believe in it. "There is nothing to forgive, my friend." Then he said in a serious voice, "You have come this far. If you give up now, you are lost. Legolas, hold on and believe just a little longer, things will change soon."
King strode by and he looked all too happy and content for the blonde Elf and the ranger's comfort. The way he walked gave Legolas the feeling that things were about to get far worse than they ever could have imagined.
>>>>>>>>>>
Rothinzil and Elméra crouched in the shadows as they heard harsh voices say in deep and cruel tones, "stop yer struggling! You will only make it worse for yerselfs!" Roth looked at her and she at him in confusion. He then recalled Aragorn and knew that if the man were still alive, he would have gone for help. He also knew Celebalda would not remain idol in this situation.
Wondering who was in King's grasp now and Calmir's, he did not have to wait long. Elméra clasped his hand tightly as three Elves were dragged into view. Heavy chains were about their feet and hands and their normally graceful movements were clumsy. One, Roth noticed, was bleeding from his mouth and his face was incomparably whiter than the others.
He was even more alarmed to find that this Elf was Thalionril, a friend of his whom was engaged. He Celebalda walking closely by the wounded Elf that was obviously at death's door, supporting him and keeping him from falling and being cut down.
Celebalda's jaw was set and anger flashed in his eyes. He glared at the man leading him by a length of chain. Roth did not recognize this man, but he definitely knew the one who followed. Calmir. The man was helping to drive the Elves towards their captivity.
"Thalionril, damn it, what happened to you?" asked the dark-haired warrior to himself as Elméra glanced at him and her face was a shade of white in horror.
Thalionril stumbled and Rothinzil watched as Celebalda protected him against a flurry of blows with his own body. Thalionril was like a son to him andhe had an obligation to bring his daughter's fiancé home.
Once the troop of captives had passed, Rothinzil and Elméra sprang out of the shadows and watched the last of the men disappear down the passageway. Rothinzil was beside himself. "What ever happened had to have been beyond horrible. Celebalda never goes with only two Elves with him, two must have died or more."
This made anger burn hot in Rothinzil's heart and he said, " Elméra I do not ask you to come with me."
"I know," she said, quietly and stood by his side with his sword in her hand. Her long red hair was pulled back in a single braid to keep it out of the way.
"If this happened to Celebalda and if Aragorn were with him and his battalion, then Estel is…dead." Roth winced and he shivered. "Then everything is failing." He wanted to kill every man here and he had never felt that way before.
Going back down the corridor, the way the men had came, they traced everything that must have happened. Torches had been lit in the halls, by the men to see by as they guided their captives back to their waiting prisons.
Then they saw the holocaust.
Two Elves lay dead, many wounds in their bodies and their eyes looking up at nothing. A glassy layer ran over the degenerate orbs and their faces were drained of any color or sign of life.
The bodies of ten men lay dead about the two beings whose souls were now submitted to Mandos. Each of the men's bodies had an Elven arrow in their forehead or chest or the quick swipe of an Elven knife in their throat. They had died mercifully, but the Elves had received no mercy.
A blood puddle was formed from the river running from one Elf's mouth. Roth recognized him. Galanim, "White Tree", one of the Elves from his own contingent. He was certainly white now, thought Rothinzil ironically. He looked and saw a javelin ran through the Elf's mid section and an arrow sticking from his chest. His death had been far from swift and far from painless.
Cradling the limp and cold body, Roth felt sick. He ran his fingers along the dead being's cold cheek and said, "why? Why you?" A tear sprang from his right eye and then one dripped from his left before they all came down like rain.
Elméra hung in the back, the sight of all the blood and carnage making her ill and she felt that this was a personal thing she could not interfere with. Grasping her lover's blade tightly, she wanted to comfort him. But she could not. There were no words of consolation that would sooth his immense sorrow. Elves, she realized for the first time were also cursed, for their anguish was the deepest ever delved by any living creature.
Roth finally laid the dead Elf down and taking the murdered being's sword, he curled the cold and stiffening fingers about the hilt, leaving the sword to rest in Galanim's chest, where his heart would beat no more.
He felt numb now. He knew he was angry…no, furious….but he could not feel it. He felt absolutely nothing as he kneeled by the body of his friend and warrior.
How could they just murder them in cold blood like this? How?
He would never know the answer.
A sound of shuffled and uneven movements rustled through the air and he looked over to see a shadow like figure rise from behind a large rock. The golden head shook dust from its hair and then the large pair of blue eyes blinked as though the being had awakened from a deep sleep.
"Glorfindel?" asked Rothinzil in shock. He stammered, "you are alive?"
"Am I?" asked the Gondolin Elf stupidly as he stood up. "I feel dead." He scrutinized the Elf and maiden before him and then asked Roth a question in turn. "how is t that you are here, alive and walking free? Where is Legolas, Erestor and Estel?"
"I do not know. Celebalda, and two of his warriors were taken captive." He looked at the slain bodies of his friends and said, "a couple of murders were committed as well."
Glorfindel frowned and he walked over to stand by Rothinzil, "I know, we were ambushed. We didn't have a chance. I sent Erestor and Estel away before the fray got out of hand. I hope they at least made it."
"I do not know, but Thalionril is wounded and dying. Soon only two will be left alive that I saw. Celebalda and one other whose face I could not make out in this dim light."
Glorfindel looked at Elméra and smiled, "find someone finally Rothinzil?" The dark-haired Elf flushed and stepped closer to her as an answer. The Gondolin Elf smiled inspite of the dark situation and shook his head as he said, "she is very pretty, I give you that, my friend."
Elméra flushed this time and put her left arm through Roth's and leaned on his shoulder. He took her hand and gripped it gently. She shivered against him as she felt him so close. Elven though she could not see past his hood, she knew his eyes were sparkling.
"She is," answered the warrior sweetly and she laid her head on his shoulder, for a brief moment forgetting the darkness and despair of the dangerous circumstances.
Then the one peaceful moment ended abruptly as Glorfindel saw the bodies of the dead Elves, lying cold and forlorn. Their faces were peaceful and there was no pain and fear, just cold and lifelessness.
They were no longer immortal, they had become mortal. Rothinzil shivered as he realized he would someday look that way, white, frigid and limp. Empty.
Glorfindel said sadly, "they shouldn't have died. They were so young for Elves. So this is what we are dealing with, a bunch of cold-blooded murderers." He felt his throat constricting and he seemed to be held in a trance as he looked at the glassed over eyes.
Bending down, he shut one of the Elves' eyes and was about to shut Galanim's, but Roth stopped him and said tearfully, "no, I will do it." And he slid his fingers delicately over the eyes lids, shutting them…forever.
TBC………..Review please? Thank you so much. We love those…a lot.
Yup, now things are getting good. Aragorn has found Legolas, and been slammed around a bit, Erestor has met Beleg aka: King. Ahhhhhh…what a nice reunion. Life is so good. We had a chance to have some heavyhearted death scenes too. -contented sighs- Yes, that is what makes this whole writing thing enjoyable. Okay, we know, we can be evil, but isn't it such fun? LOL
Much angst to come next chapter! We should post Wednesday, but if we don't we will say this now...MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS!
Review Responses:-) Thank you for these!
Deana: Yes! REALLY REALLY REALLY poor Leggy! Thanks for the cute review!
Li Cwick: Yup!.. Aragorn to the rescue! Or….maybe not. Thanks for the sweet review!
Elitenschwein: Yes, lots more Aragorn angst, if you can hold out a few more chapters. LOL Thanks for the nice review!
Sorry if these are brief, but we have pressing things to do at school.