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Finally an update. mental sign

Chapter 19

Legolas ceased running as he entered the black corridors of Dol Guldor and began to carefully walk about. His heart raced inside his chest, his breaths turned to desperate gasps as they left his throat. He was inside the place he'd been told about as a child—a fortress of nightmares and cruelty. He couldn't help feeling more frightened that he ever had been before.

The hallways were terribly dark. There was only the soft blood red light from a nearby torch penetrating the darkness. Legolas stepped forward into the small shadow of light, as if it could protect him in some way. He watched intently as the shadows on the wall moved and shifted like a monster stirring in its sleep.

Legolas silently prayed that the shadows would be the only monsters he'd experience in this place. He held his sword out in front of him, the sharp tip reflecting a blade of light across his eyes, and continued down the hallway.

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Hathol whirled, ducked, and parried. He moved as though his body was made of water, his every step controlled and balanced. But his enemy's body was made of stone. No matter how many times or how hard he hit the Nazgul, it would not back down. And the dark magic of this black valley was beginning to take a toll on Hathol's body and spirit. He grew weaker with every blow the Ringwraith delivered.

The two creatures circled briefly, their capes of red and black blowing freely as the wind spun the air around them. The air smelled of fresh blood and death. Hathol raised his sword and charged, the tip of his blade aimed directly for the Nazgul's heart. If it even had a heart.

With a cry and a graceful arch of his body, he spun to the side and slashed the Wraith across the back of its shoulders, ripping black threads from it's billowing robes. The Wraith did not scream, but hissed loudly and angerly. It gripped it's long sword in it's hand and swung it in a low arch that could have cleaved Hathol in half. But the elf ducked the blow and slide across the cold, dark ground. The Ringwraith came at him again.

Hathol crouched like a cat ready to pounce. He moved first, bringing his blade down in an attack similar to the one the Wraith had previously used. The Nazgul blocked his attack, but it didn't stop. Hathol gritted his teeth as the creature used it's sword to prevent him from bringing up his own again. The Wraith continued closer, now inside his defenses. Hathol raised his free arm just as the Nazgul used it's unoccupied claws to slash at him. It's long, spiked fingers closed tightly around his forearm. Hathol stepped back, but not quickly enough to regain his balance as the Ringwraith threw him forward onto his back.

Hathol landed with a grunt of pain as the back of his head collided with the dry, hard ground. He opened his eyes and saw the shape of the Nazgul above him. He rolled away just as soon as a metal-clad foot crushed the ground where his head had rested just an instant earlier. The elf general leaped up to his feet and raised his sword.

The Nazgul paused. Hathol knew it was smiling at him through that black shadow of a face.

"You're death is drawing close." It whispered into the air. It's poisonous breath reached Hathol and he frowned.

"You're wrong," He replied and then cursed at the creature.

The Ringwraith's delight grew at the elf's anger. Then, as quickly as it had ceased fighting, it began again.

The enemy rushed at Hathol with unimaginable speed. Once it was inside the elf's defenses, it feinted with it's blade at his left side. The move proved to catch Hathol off guard, and he shifted his sword to block the blow that never came. The Nazgul completed the trick by whirling the sword around in an artful manuver, arching it over the elf's right side this time. The blade sailed through the air and would have separated Hathol's head from his shoulders, had he not blocked it. Which he did.

With his arm.

The elf general cried out in pain as the jagged metal of the Wraith's sword cut through his armor and into his flesh. The blade only stopped when it bit deeply into his bone. Hathol, despite his pain and the blood running down his hand, didn't cease fighting for one instant. He winced as his fingers closed around the edges of the Ringwraith's sword, cutting deeply but disabling his opponent. He then slash downward with his own sword in a desperate attempt to slay the creature.

The Ringwraith hissed in anger when he found his sword could not be freed from the elf's grasp, but as Hathol's weapon descended upon it, it also raised it's free arm—but not to block the blow.

With a lightening fast reflex, the Nazgul's hand shot out and seized the wrist of the elf. With a twinge of delight burning at the very center of it's black soul, the Wraith twisted. There was a delicious crunch asevery bonein the elf's wrist snapped.

Hathol screamed at the sudden, unexpected pain. His fingers immediately lost their feeling and his sword was dropped harmlessly to the ground. The elf himself fell to his knees in agony. The Wraith laughed and wrenched it's sword free from the elf general's other hand, slicing the palm open. Hathol screamed again. The ground below him was dotted with circles of red—his own blood.

"Bastard." He whispered as the Nazgul loomed over him. His right hand was useless now, and his left was not much better. Still, the fight was not over.

Hathol reached inside his capes with his bloody left hand and drew out a long dagger, it's blade shaped like a scythe. He raised it above him as a precise angle. The Nazgul's blade clanged against the dagger's glimmering edge, and then slid off easily, away from the injured elf. Hathol rolled away and back to his feet, his right arm hanging limply against his side.

The Nazgul roared and came after him, bathing the elf in it's shadow. Again and again metal rang and clashed, until Hathol discovered that he was very nearly trapped against the tall stone wall that surrounded the fortress.

A thunder formed in Hathol's chest as his heart beat more frantically. The adrenaline that coursed through his veins was screaming at him. The Wraith stepped closer, it's black robes blowing behind it, making it look like a strange bird of prey. Hathol raised his dagger one more time, trying in vain to block the next heavy blow the enemy's sword dealt him.

But the blow never came. Instead, the Nazgul dropped it's sword, and as the elf tried to slash at him, it used it's metal fingers to pin the small blade against the wall, next to the elf general's head.

Hathol tried to reach out his broken arm and use it to push the creature away, but it was no use. The Nazgul was much to strong and he had grown much too weak. He gasped as the Wraith breathed it's putrid breath into his face.

"Valar," Hathol exclaimed as he slowly came to realize he was going to die.

A chuckle formed in the Ringwraith's throat. "Pray to your Gods." It told the elf as it flexed its free hand. "For they have forsaken my Master and they will also forsake you."

Hathol felt his eyes grow wide at the sight of the Nazgul's glinting, sharp fingers. "Never." He replied breathlessly.

The Wraith savored the moment. It hissed. "Yesss…."

There was a glint of reflected light that caught Hathol's eyes, and he closed them. When he opened them, the Ringwraith's spiked hand had punched a hole in his armor, his flesh, and it's fingers were now scraping the inside of his ribcage.

The elf general screamed for a moment, but then felt the warm blood of his life begin to leave through the holes the Wraith had poked through his skin. And the blackness of the Nazgul's robes seemed to engulf him, and all light was gone forever.

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Legolas's pace had increased as he searched the hallways full of crimson light and darkness. He'd not seen a single orc nor a Ringwriath. It was safe enough to assume that they had all been ordered out to battle. He began to race down each a hallway, calling his lover's name.

"Eressa! ERESSA!!" Legolas shouted. "If you can hear me please say something! ERESSA!"

Legolas stopped and waited for a reply. But the only on that came was the echo of his own voice.

She's not here…he thought. She must be deeper inside.

Legolas ran on, his feet racing faster than the beat of his heart. He came to an opening that lead into a larger room. The walls were caked with black blood and spikes and other instruments of torture hung from the walls. He took a step back and felt his stomach turn.

Had Eressa been here?

Legolas's breath stopped at the thought. His love, his life…was she dead already? Could the Ringwraith had been lying? Legolas shook his head. He didn't smell any fresh blood in this room. Eressa had not been subject to this terror.

Legolas walked to the center of the room, his sword lowered. He turned around a few times, regarding every door and wondering where it led.

"Eressa!" He shouted again. His words fell upon nothing but stone, and he fell silent for a moment.

Legolas waited. He didn't care what he was waiting for. He needed something to come to him. The silence stretched on.

Legolas raised his face towards the dark ceiling and sighed. He placed his free hand over his heart and felt it beating frantically against the inside of his chest. He felt as if he was going to burst.

Then, a sound. Legolas spun around, raising his sword defensively. But nothing else was in the room.

That was a cry…he half realized, half hoped.

With a spring of his legs, Legolas ran to the door the sound had seemed to come from, flinging it open with a crash. His footfalls barely were heard amongst the groans of the stone under his feet.

"ERESSA!!" He screamed, his voice cracking under the heavy air. He panted and listened for another cry. But none came.

Legolas continued his search. He passed many dungeons and torture chambers, but his love was to be found in none of them. He stopped for a moment and regarded where he was. The elf prince looked up to the light of a torch above him. Frustrated, he ripped it from the wall and threw it upon the ground. There was a burst of flames but then darkness once more.

The shattered mount lay in pieces on the floor next to his feet. Legolas stepped over the pieces and walked on, his shadow stretching out in back of him.

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THERE YA GO!! A double-whammy of two chapters for waiting so long. I'm sorry, guys. I really should have updated sooner. I hope you forgive me.

Oh, and don't freak out about Hathol. He's not out of the story yet. THANKS to all of you who continued reviewing despite my lack of updates! I love you guys sooo much!