CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Sun Set
White flakes, crystal, cold and ominous filled the sky and drifted slowly down sticking to the Elf's dark hair, flecking it with white briefly before it melted, leaving his hair slightly damp in places. The sky was now a cold and complete grey and looked like it was ready to dump even more snow at any given moment. The air was now definitely considered to be cold. Extremely frigid was a more accurate description. The puddles formed from the previous rain had iced over, leaving dangerous slippery places ideal for breaking an ankle or arm, or perhaps both.
Erestor looked out over the balcony and sighed heavily. He had already made the decision that he despised this weather. But now it was really just making things plain miserable and wretched. He ran his fingers through his dark hair, trying to detangle some nasty knots that had formed as a result of the frequent and high winds accompanying this tirade of snow and sleet.
He looked bleakly over to where he had last seen his friends, but they were long gone now, gone towards Mirkwood. But what worried him most is that he would place a bet of any given amount that they had not gotten over the mountains completely yet and he would also wager without much thought that the pass was probably no longer able to be defined as a "pass". If the orcs were not around to make the mountains unfit for travel then the weather sure was.
Shivering without even thinking about it, the counselor crinkled his brow in slight agitation and a meager regret. He wished he had gone with Elrond, Glorfindel and the twins. It was miserable having been left behind to wonder what dangers they were facing and what would become of them. He didn't like being here alone.
Well he wasn't truly alone but in a sense he was completely by himself. Elves were preparing to go to the Havens and he had no means to persuade them otherwise. He had tried everything and anything to convince them that this destruction would pass and Rivendell would be rebuilt but they would have none of it. Most felt they never should have lingered in Middle Earth. He had always known his own people could be this cynical, he just had never really truly took it to heart and believed it so now it was coming as a bit of an unappreciated shock.
But that was not the hardest thing to bear. The hardest was watching his home slowly but surely crumble and dissolve. There was no way that Rivendell could hold out much longer. He rivers had already flooded some of the lower dwellings and the Healing Wards were surprisingly full, considering that the usual patients were absent for the time being. Erestor chuckled slightly under his breath but it was hollow, completely hollow. He was pretty sure that it wasn't much more than an odd echo of sorts. 'Orcs have more cheerful laughter,' he thought forlornly. 'A Barrow Wight might sound happier.'
This was all because Estel was gone. Erestor knew it wasn't Aragorn's fault. He couldn't help how things played out. But the counselor wished to the Valar that Elrond had been able to hold out a little longer. Then it was quite probable that Rivendell would not be falling to pieces all around him right now. The rain had changed to an icy snow, he guessed this meant that Elrond's mood had become worse. But he also was certain that it meant the Misty Mountains were slowly taking back Rivendell and reclaiming what had been lost to them. Though he didn't like to think about it, he expected orcs to find the place and besiege it or at least try to capture and/or kill some Elves.
Erestor blinked as some snow blew into his eyes and he drew his hand across them, wiping away some more that had settled on his face, melting and freezing. Looking over to the East, he saw more clouds coming. 'Wonderful,' he thought sarcastically and rather alienated. 'More of them.' His eyes narrowed as he stared at them between unnaturally frequent blinks.
He suddenly heard a creaking noise.
It was similar to the sound one hears when a floor board is about to give way. There was just one thing about it that truly had him unnerved…it was about a hundred times as loud and the ground beneath him felt like it was trembling. The ground did not just tremble…at least normally. That was just something that never happened in Rivendell and if strange things had not been going on he would have thought that he had suddenly acquired a wild imagination. Looking down at this feet and then past the dried and dead leaves to the stony ground he saw the pebbles jumping and shaking across the ground.
Feeling the color drain from his face and not even trying to keep his composer, the adviser looked up slowly, not wanting to but knowing he had to. His eyes settled on a peculiar mountain's side on the horizon. It was moving. Mountains didn't just move, did they? No, of course not! So why was this one? He had a bad twisted feeling in his gut that it had something to do with the loud creak that was still ringing in his ears. He also picked up another distinct sound, trees snapping, popping, like twigs breaking in a gale or consumed in a fire. Consumed. The word shot through his awareness and throbbed in his mind…consumed….. He watched with a clenching stomach and constricting throat as the forest seemed to dissolve before his very eyes.
This was a landslide, logically. But in Rivendell? Bewildered thoroughly, Erestor felt a scream rising in the back of his throat and pushing forward to the front of his mind. But he was struck numb. His mouth moved soundlessly as he perceived the immense amount of danger they were all in. But he could not find his voice; it seemed to be stuck in his throat or simply nonexistent. He wasn't sure which at the moment and he obviously had no time to try and figure that bit out.
Then he realized with a fuddled clarity that he was screaming or someone was. No, it was most certainly himself. He was screaming for everyone to move clear, to run for their lives. But that wasn't his voice so high and shrill, was it? No. It couldn't be, it sounded so urgent, a very big change from his normally calm demeanor that he had prided himself in possessing. But it was his voice, it really was. He knew it was real and everything was still completely unreal and seemed as though it was dripped in cold and nearly crystallized honey.
Then he realized that it might actually be a good idea for him to move as he had advised the others. But upon trying to move his feet, which already felt like two useless lumps of lead, the counselor found that he could not get his legs to follow his instincts and brain's commands. He struggled and was putting up a decent fight but only succeeded in lifting a single foot and then placing it back down again. Alarm rising in his throat and his breathing accelerating as the realized the mortal danger he was in, the dark-haired Elf felt the strong feeling of panic taking over his senses and blocking out all logic.
He was going to die and that was about the extent of his knowledge at the moment. He saw the other Elves running by as fast as they were able, and that was fast. As he watched them run past he saw the pure and unaltered terror on their faces as the place that they had always considered to be a refuge and safe haven came crashing down to try and take their very lives. It was so heartbreaking and frightening to see that Erestor momentarily forgot his struggle and watched his friends and many others he had known for years simply run like Morgoth was on their heels with a fire brand. This was something they had no defense against.
He felt a tug on his arm and slowly turned his head to see Helinyetillë pulling at his elbow. Her face was contorted in terror and her eyes were as large as saucers or larger. "My lord, are you not going to flee for your life? I think it would be a wise decision." She looked up as the landslide came tumbling towards them taking out trees, buildings, flets, anything that got in its way and it seemed to be more than ready to add a shocked and gripped Elven counselor to its growing appetite.
Erestor just stood rooted to the ground and he turned his head away from her so slow it was like he was encased in molasses and his rounded grey eyes locked on the mass of earth and debris that was rumbling as it came to take his life and his lord's home…his home. It was so wonderful in a strange way. The power it possessed without being a god, or anyone with a governmental position was amazing and it held his attention like a sticky mess held flies. In his fascination with the horrible power of this natural disaster, Erestor didn't even blink and all thoughts of running were dissolved in his mind.
"My lord?" questioned the maiden quickly, unwilling to leave the counselor behind. She felt a strange attachment to him and if he was killed…she didn't know what she would feel like. It was a bizarre thing for her to feel when she considered that he did grate on her nerves something awful and she often wanted to show him a thing or two about getting into other people's business, starting with going though his papers and maybe crinkling a few of the corners...
But Erestor didn't even look at her. All he did was nod slowly in an attempt to show he was listening and comprehending. And then as the mass came closer and he saw trees being devoured and snapping like the kindling they were to the muddy fire, he suddenly realized he should move. It came upon him like lightening hitting a tree, with a flash. "I am coming, yes." He suddenly realized that his feet were not in fact two lumps of lead, but real feet, light and ready to flee. Not holding them back, he let them take him with the others as they headed for higher ground to avoid their certain deaths.
Helinyetillë ran beside him, dragging her long skirts. Erestor reached over and grabbed her arm to keep her from stumbling from a tremor that ran, as a large boulder was unleashed. Though she was an Elf-maiden, her long velvet skirts made her movements awkward when she ran.
As they reached the top of a sort of hill that looked over Rivendell and the Last Homely House they saw more homes and beautiful bridges being consumed and simply being taken away. The legacy of Rivendell was being obliterated.
Erestor felt anger burn in his chest and for a moment he saw everything to be tinged in red. This landslide was stealing everything from him and if it were an actual human being he wouldn't mind strangling it with his bare hands! And that was simply for starters.
Erestor blinked as he felt the snow fall harder and the wind pick up as it blew into his eyes and stung them. His face was ashen in shock and a certain despair that was inescapable. His momentary flash of anger had left only a void to be filled by immediate hopelessness. His dark hair whipped and smacked against his face. The other Elves behind him were watching quietly in dismay and sickening fear. Everything they had worked for so long was gone in he blink of an eye.
As he raised his eyes to look beyond the landslide to the mountains and beyond that even he saw the most scarlet sunset he had seen in a long time. It was literally the color of a rich and deep blood. He hoped that it wasn't an omen of something that was to come in the near future.
His eyes turned back to the racing mud and he noticed curiously that it was slowing. It had not truly reached the heart of Rivendell yet and the majority of houses were left unharmed…completely untouched. Not that it hadn't done its fair share of damage, but it hadn't destroyed everything. However, that didn't mean things couldn't change before Elrond returned. And it had been while Rivendell was under his responsibility.
O0O0O0O0O
Legolas shook his head as he shivered from the bat encounter. It still made his spine tingle and as Aragorn limped very slowly beside him, the Elven warrior and prince kept a hand on the wall, groping in the darkness for the mystery shaft. As much as he hated to do this being as uncertain as he was about what he would find, Legolas knew that he had to and that if he did not he was taking a great risk. Who knew what creatures or persons dwelled in the darkness? 'Knowing our luck it would be something sinister and bloodthirsty…' he thought detachedly.
Aragorn strode beside him as though in a dream. He was so weary and his torments had taken a heavy toll from his body. He could not help but to shake. He wasn't truly frightened, though he was afraid, if he wasn't he was an idiot. But fear wasn't why he was shaking like a young sapling in a gale. His body was sliding swiftly into a strange form of shock that left him with the most bizarre feeling of detachment and loneliness that no words could describe. He stumbled and felt a strong arm reach out and catch him.
"We must rest, Aragorn," Legolas commented in a way that stated it wasn't a suggestion, it was a definite command. "You must rest. You are less than half alive." And that has to be the understatement of the century.
"And you're more alive?" asked Aragorn as he swayed in dark, grateful that his companion was not able to see it. He frowned and felt his legs quivering as he tried to still them. He was too weak though he was more than a little hesitant to admit that to anyone, mostly himself.
"Now is not the time to test my patience," the blonde Elf warned tartly as he shook his head. 'Closed-minded, headstrong ranger,' Legolas chuckled inwardly though he felt the appropriate emotion would probably be aggravation or anger. His lips turned into a thin smile despite himself as he recalled times when he would have said what he just said in a jest. Now he was serious. His patience was as short as it came and soon it would be gone. Then he would choke his devious, pig-headed, numb-skulled friend within an inch of his life. The only thing he truly regretted was that it was dark and he could not see Aragorn's face while administrating the choking grip on the man's neck with his bare hands. What part of the word 'rest' was not understood by humans, particularly this one?
Aragorn remained silent and then breathed a deep and exhausted breath as he felt his legs giving out. Legolas caught him and eased him down slowly, with care that the ranger should take no more hurt than he could help. Then the Elf squatted down by his companion and said with a dreary sigh that lacked heart behind it, "I do hate this place. Harad is entirely overrated. First of all, its people are absolutely insane, or at least the soldiers, especially Sarchel. Then of course the weather is the most deplorable stuff I have seen in decades and the accommodations are far less than appealing."
"I am not so sure. I thought it looked like a marvelous place for a holiday. I really do not know what you are talking about," said Aragorn dryly around wheeze of pain that sneaked into his voice. He resisted the urge to intake sharply as his ribs blazed and his wounded shoulder felt like it was on fire. He could feel in infection setting in and naturally that was something Legolas must never know. The Elf would never forgive himself and most likely would do something insane in his wrath that he might not live to regret. 'Like march right out of this tunnel and demand Sarchel's head on a pike,' Aragorn suggested inwardly.
Legolas smiled grimly, "ahh…they must have blinded you as well as break your bones and dismember your joints my friend." He flexed his sore hand that had been through Hell and winced inwardly as he felt needle like pain in all of the digits of his hand. It was not simply pain though; it was annoying as well because it limited his fighting skills with a knife and his bow action. He could switch hands and work the other hand more to build of the skill of his right but he really didn't want to do that. It was so inconvenient.
"No, they were kind enough to let me keep my eyes," Aragorn snickered as he leaned against Legolas carefully, knowing the Elf's own wounds and the pain he guessed the blonde immortal was experiencing and hiding. He felt Legolas' body tense and immediately jerked back, fearing to have caused the prince extreme pain.
"It's alright. Just brushed against some old wounds is all," the Elf assured as he willed his throbbing and taut muscles to relax against the ranger's weight. He pulled Aragorn close as much to comfort himself as the ranger. He felt frightened in this dark, dank, merciless, wet, cold and creepy cave. "This place gives me the creeps."
Aragorn raised a brow and looked with humor back at the Elf. "I've noticed."
"Have you now?" asked Legolas as he shivered again and rolled his eyes dramatically as he realized that was at least the fifth time in five minutes. That was roughly once per minute…
"Indeed. It is not a hard thing to perceive," Aragorn allowed and held his breath as he began to wheeze some more from his torments. "You hate this place."
"I believe I have stated that briefly before, yes," the blonde prince laughed with arcane. He finally managed to hold back another shiver and felt a brief amount of victory wash over him. "It is a cave in disguise."
Aragorn didn't respond for a minute, wondering what to say. He had the slight fear that he might stir old memories or help to create some newer ones. He finally spoke softly; "well eventually we shall get out. You shall see your father again and Mirkwood's beautiful forest in the twilight beneath the stars."
Legolas lowered his head and replied in a choked voice, "and even then the night shall be only half-spent."
At this Aragorn sat up abruptly and in alarm. "Legolas, what ever do you mean by that? You shall be home! And-"
"I did not leave on very good terms with my father and king. If I go back nothing will ever be the same again. By defying a direct order from my father I have garnered death or at least time in the cells. I am an outcast in my own land," Legolas finished sadly as he felt hot tears trying to seep from the corners of his eyes. There was an indisputable unsteadiness to his voice and one could not leave the perception of heavy sorrow unmarked.
"Legolas, he is your father. He loves you immensely! He would weep heavily if he could see you now," Aragorn reassured promisingly to the Elf, whose heart he could tell was breaking. "I know he would take you back even if the Valar themselves expressly forbid it."
Legolas sighed and said, "I don't expect you to understand. Aragorn, you are a friend, you are a brother, but this is something you cannot protect me from and that I must face myself."
Feeling a strong sense of rejection and heartache, the ranger shifted his weight and stood up shakily. "You are right, Legolas. I cannot help you. But I can stick by your side and I mean to. You stuck by mine, even when you were captured, when you knew because of your race you would be put through greater pain."
"Sit down Estel!" snapped the Wood-Elf as he felt the last shred of his patience fading swiftly away. "You are too weak to be up! It will be your death for certain!"
"And this brooding in the darkness won't be yours?" asked Aragorn incredulously. "I have to believe that there is an end to this darkness! As do you!" declared the dark-haired man as he glowered down at the Elf with a grim determination. If it had not been dark and Legolas had seen Aragorn's face he would have known that Aragorn was not angry with him. As it was less than dim in the room he could see nothing of facial emotions.
"You are insane!" he spat back at the human. He was beginning to feel anger building and all his emotion that he had been so long withholding was beginning to break forth. The horrible thing was that Aragorn was in its destructive path.
"Legolas, I will get you home!" Aragorn promised as he swished the water with his feet, sending a ripple in the sitting Elf's direction. "I dragged you into this and I will drag you out, whether you want to come out or not."
"What I chose to do is not entirely your business Estel!" Legolas began to stand up, forbidding his legs to fold beneath him. His frame shook with emotion as much as with weakness and pain.
"Very well then," Aragorn consented crossly. "But I am getting my men free and I am going home. Now will you be here or will I be alone?" His voice went strangely calm and he felt a strange tranquil feeling merge over his senses. Then he felt nothing. His shock was getting a tighter grip on him and was beginning to suffocate him.
"I am with you, as always," Legolas said in half a breath. He felt his breath go short and he stumbled backwards in a strange and brief confusion followed by a sudden pain that flared up his breast and through his neck then flooded his head. His vision quelled for moment and he floundered backwards in the water. Legolas put his hands out behind himself, expecting to catch himself on a solid rock wall.
However, he realized with panic, there was no rock wall. There was nothing. He was falling through black space and then he felt icy water run over him, with a current akin to that of a river. It tugged and nipped at him, trying to pull him under its sparse inches. He also became aware that water was falling like rain about him, only in much larger droplets; the result of what he guessed was a huge splash. Until he shut his mouth he had not realized he had given a cry of temporary and abrupt uncertainty and fear. He had not even heard himself.
Aragorn heard Legolas' cry and splash. Instinctively he went forward a few steps but fear of what he might find held him back from taking a few more. "Legolas? Where are you? Are you hurt?"
"Beyond the already acquired injuries? No," came the curt reply that came from a voice that sounded more than a little shaken. "And please do not step forward or I fear you might step on me." Aragorn crinkled his brow in concern and abashment. Legolas could be arguing like nothing else one minute and being as obstinate as ever then turn around and be the cheerful Wood-Elf he was at heart. Sometimes he had the sense Legolas was a bit more…complicated…than he knew of. He nearly stepped forward before he remembered what Legolas had said last.
"Well then what should I do?" he asked calmly. He would have shrugged but with the condition his shoulders were in he felt that was hardly the appropriate thing to do. "Where are you?"
There was silence for about a minute.
"I am in what appears to be the other shaft where our winged friends live," the Elf concluded at length. "It seems to have been created by the water that flows through it."
"You can see it?" Aragorn asked in shock as he squinted. Maybe he had gone blind…All he saw was the dark. His hand was invisible at the moment.
"Of course not. Try not to be stupid, please," Legolas growled as he tried to sit up.
"Sorry," Aragorn muttered covered by his breath in a growl of his own.
"I can feel the current of the water," asserted the Elf wisely as he sat on his knees. "It carved this shaft. But I can hear the sound of water trickling in further back." He frowned and said nearly to himself, "there has to be an entrance and exit somewhere."
"How do you know that you aren't hearing an echo?" inquired the human tersely as he carefully placed one foot forward and slowly set it down, making sure not to step on anything soft, like an Elf for instance. In this manner he continued forward a pace or two before he felt Legolas' presence directly beside him and he stopped.
"Well, I don't. But perhaps if we can find our way to this entrance (or exit) if that is truly what my ears are hearing, then we can escape quicker. I can't endure this cold darkness much longer. I must see the sun or I shall go rabid." Legolas stiffened as a shiver traced his spine and the hair rose on the back of his neck. He shuddered slightly in defiance of his efforts and blinked back sleep in his eyes.
"It's a bit late for that," Aragorn teased gently as Legolas cast a hidden glare up at him, though he knew that this cross, know-it-all human was actually probably relatively rectified.
"You have not the slightest idea," grumbled the prince with a smile pulling at his mouth's corners. He raised himself up to his feet and nearly fell again but a hand caught his arm and supported him until he found his feet. "I'm just tired."
"You also are just a liar," Aragorn countered as he felt a lurking grin begin to grow to reasonably large dimensions. He reluctantly released Legolas' arm, not sure about whether or not Legolas could stand on his own. He had his doubts but Legolas always had a way of disproving those sorts of things. It was one of Legolas' annoying and purely bizarre talents that drove people to distraction at times.
"That too," Legolas admitted with a wry grin and he flexed his inflamed and distressed fingers again. The cold water had stiffened them though Legolas was also pretty sure it had helped reduce the swelling to some degree. He was going to make them pay for damaging his hand this badly.
"You would admit that proudly, wouldn't you?" Aragorn asked with a meager stab of irritation.
"It depends on the occasion," Legolas bantered. He suddenly felt very cold from the water and began to shiver. From the vibrations he was feeling at his side he knew that Aragorn was shivering right along with him. Legolas had never truthfully felt this cold in a long time and it was unnerving. "However, I concede that lying is not an attractive trait in an individual." Aragorn nodded in silent agreement though the Elf never saw it.
"Are we going to explore this new duct then?" he asked as though they were getting ready to depart and explore a new section of forest.
"We could but I wonder," Legolas began. "I wonder if we will lose the main tunnel, the one we chiefly need." He wasn't entirely sure that the risk was worth it. If they got lost they would never be found again and would surely starve to death or die from lack of sunlight. And if these rains continued they could very well drown in here.
Aragorn was about to comment when there was a rumbling sound and both of them crouched as it came from over head. It was deep and ominous. If they could have seen each other's face it is likely they wold have exchanged doomed glances. The tunnel was coming down.
O0O0O0O
Darcíl waited in the throne room as calmly as he might. He didn't think that he had been found out yet. No guards had been down there since he allowed Legolas and Aragorn to escape. But that didn't make him feel the least ounce better about being summoned to his liege's throne room. Being summoned was hardly ever a good thing and he was convinced it was his lord's way of spying on his subjects and officers.
He immediately squared his shoulders proudly as he heard the doors open to Prince Dorrag's study chambers. Not that he thought Dorrag actually used them for their purpose but that was where he had been anyway. Clearing his throat he gave a curt bow speaking both politely and appropriately, "my lord." Raising his head he saw Dorrag smiling, which was something that made a hair or two stand up on the back of his head. The things Dorrag took pleasure from were not exactly the things that made him comfortable.
"Ah, Captain," greeted Dorrag serenely but with a joyous voice. "I must have the Elf brought out of his cell." Darcíl nearly choked and a tremor of alarm ran through his awareness as he realized what this meant. He was as good as dead now. Seeing movement behind Dorrag he watched in curiosity as another man stepped out from behind. "Is something wrong captain? You look as though you have seen a ghost." Dorrag wrinkled his brow and watched as the officer shook his head proclaiming the negative.
"Well then I will impart to you my plans which I shall need your aid to carry out." He stepped aside and cordially allowed the black-haired man behind him to come forth. "I assume that you are familiar with Cortanyar, the captain, in charge of the prison barracks?"
Darcíl nodded grimly. "Aye." He looked Cortanyar in the eye as he inquired, "You were a healer at one time, correct?" He resisted the urge to shiver as pure evil and cunning radiated from this man staring him squarely back with amusement twinkling in his eyes. He could already tell this man was just as evil as Sarchel but far more devious and actually had his fair share or more of common sense and wisdom. Well "wisdom" might not have been the correct word, but he could think of no other. Either way you looked at it, Cortanyar had a strange source of intelligence.
"It is good to be remembered. Yes, I was at one time," Cortanyar addressed smoothly as he gave a small laugh that sounded colder than ice and completely hollow. "That was until I was accused of murder. You should remember that well." A tone of ice and steal resonated behind his false voice of cordials.
"I thought you died in prison," Darcíl kept his voice carefully flat. He gave the man grinning before him a glare that might have made even Legolas shudder. His eyes turned hard and his lips went into a thin white line of evident surprise and anger.
"Fortunately no," Cortanyar smiled all the more as Darcíl's glower darkened. He cleared his throat and was about to continue when Dorrag interrupted; sensing there was tenseness between the two officers that he had not fully anticipated.
"He wants the Elf for…experimental purposes," Dorrag's voice trailed off, as he looked sidelong at the ex-healer that was nodding in silent agreement.
"And what exactly does that make of our plans?" asked Darcíl stiffly. He did like this turn of events at all. If someone had told him that Sauron had turned on them and was ready to devour them alive he would have been more comfortable than this. At least the battle lines would be clear, as they weren't now. "What sort of experiments are we talking about here?"
"Many things," returned Cortanyar as he looked to Dorrag expectantly. His black eyes flickered as he frowned a moment in displeasure at the questions being thrown at him from this man whom he was in no mind to be calling his superior.
Dorrag finally intervened. "What he does to the Elf is his business as long as he is alive in the end. But we have made a pact. If the Elf starts to break he will get what information we need from him and then finish the experiment he is on before turning the brat over to us again."
"What if something goes totally wrong?" Darcíl persisted. "It could ruin all of our plans!" He was beginning to seethe with anger as he realized that in effect he was being replaced.
"Do you think I am not aware of that, Captain Darcíl?" Dorrag asked around a set of set teeth. He was feeling his temper beginning to rise at the needless prodding of his head captain. This was his kingdom, his word, and his rule. He did not appreciate being interrogated by his men, which he commanded with even a mere whim. Even if this prying was necessary Darcíl still should not be making it is his business to do it! "Do not question me! Am I understood?"
"Completely," Darcíl answered between grinding teeth of his own.
"Excellent. Then I want you to accompany Captain Cortanyar to the accommodations below and help him bring the Elf to his quarters in the camp," Dorrag commanded crossly. His eyes narrowed as he asked in an irritated hiss with his hands clenching, "do you have a problem with that, captain?"
"No, my lord," Darcíl lied, nearly crestfallen. His family was dead. Prince Dorrag would find out soon that he had allowed the Elf and ranger to escape and then his family and he were all going to die. Anger rose in his heart as he thought of those two prisoners who were now going to live. He wanted nothing more than to find and kill them but that would exceed the purpose of releasing them. Feeling torn between rage and heartache, the man nodded to Cortanyar. "Follow me, if you will."
Cortanyar smiled tensely, "of course."
It was not more than a few minutes when they were entering the last few feet before they were able to open the door to Legolas and Aragorn's cell. He glanced down at Cortanyar who was at least a head shorter. He couldn't be more than five foot four at the most and the Haradrim captain strongly suspected it to be less. "So you didn't die from fever in prison as we had supposed?" his questioned spoken with a bitter scorn.
"I like to consider myself to be a survivor," replied the black-eyed man as he glanced up at Darcíl who was shaking his head.
They were nearly ready to open the door to the cell. But as of yet Cortanyar had not looked inside to see that both of the captives had disappeared. "So you murder others make yourself feel powerful?" asked Darcíl skeptically. He snorted softly and stopped as he sensed Cortanyar had stopped further behind.
"I kill for science and proficiency, sir," he growled thickly. "But if you mean do I enjoy it, I will tell you that I do immensely. And I am powerful. I do no have to force myself to believe I am. If you kill, torture and maim you have power. Fear is power. I think you know exactly what I mean."
"Don't be so sure," Darcíl bit out. "How did it come about you were released then?" he asked curiously, giving the man a strange look as he raised a single brow to emphasize the question.
"Prince Dorrag needs one whom he can trust placed in charge at the camp where he keeps those cursed Gondorians. And he needs one who can break the Elf." The ex-healer sighed and said with a smile, "this is going to be so much fun." Darcíl felt now thoroughly repulsed and he shuddered inwardly.
"He is more stubborn than you would think. We have put him through Hell and he still hasn't said a word of betrayal," Darcíl shook his head as he spoke. Cortanyar didn't have any idea what he was getting himself involved in. There was one time when Darcíl would have been just as excited to torture an Elf, but now he hated all of it. He was soldier and a warrior. He fought, he didn't torture. "But who trusts the word of a murderer?"
"Perhaps you simply didn't know what you were doing. You know what the men at the camp call me?" he asked with a sick grin spreading across his face. "The Angel of Death. I will extract everything from the miserable creature before I stop anything." He was ignoring the fact he had been called a murderer, not because he didn't want to hear it, but because he didn't care.
They continued walking and Cortanyar placed a hand on the cell door then froze in his tracks. "Is this the correct cell?" he asked stiffly. It was barren, not a creature within, even the rats were gone. His voice echoed off o the stone walls, validating that emptiness. He scowled and asked again in a calm voice that was nearly a whisper, "is this where we are supposed to be?"
"The have escaped," Darcíl growled darkly. It was only a matter of time before someone discovered how and they were all killed. Dorrag would never forgive this intrusion on his rule and this deliberate disobedience. Everyone relatively involved would taste death. Unless he found the Elf and ranger first then they might stand a chance together. He didn't care if they died or not, but he was not going to sacrifice his family. They would pay with their lives first.
O0O0O0O
Legolas reached out and grabbed Aragorn's arm, jerking the ranger off his feet and pulling him aside to the temporary safety of the newly made shaft. A large piece of stone came tumbling down just where Aragorn had been standing and he let out a deep breath slowly as he realized how close he had come to being flatter than a piece of Lembas bread. That was an amusing thought, he thought grimly.
More stones and earth came toppling down and made large splashes as it plummeted into the murky water below. Legolas grabbed Aragorn by his arm once more and proceeded to pull him backward as they were forced deeper into the small branch of the subterranean grotto. "Get back Strider," commanded Legolas gruffly. "Are you truly aspiring to be flatter than a piece of the Lake Men's cram?"
"I might have been," answered Aragorn darkly as Legolas held his shoulders gently until he was stable enough to stand on his own. Aragorn shivered then and then laughed nervously. "Well maybe I actually wasn't, but it wouldn't have mattered if you hadn't pulled me out of the way."
"Well your father would kill me if I would return you to him less than an inch tall and so mashed up that you make Caranfëa look exceedingly tall," teased the Mirkwood Prince with a cheeky grin. "Of course your injuries might also serve to enhance his anger just a little bit."
"I would think," replied Aragorn with a soft snort and a chuckle. He sighed once more and said, "Legolas?"
"What?" inquired the prince tiredly.
"I think our choice was made for us," Aragorn said dryly. He rolled his eyes around as though he was looking through the darkness to the tunnel walls about them. "We can either take this new passage or go back."
Go back…the words pulsed in Legolas' ears. He couldn't go back. He would much rather slit his own throat first. He would not go back to be at their mercy and be forced to take a large punishment for an attempted escape. Aragorn would be murdered if they went back. Legolas felt determination fire up in his heart like he had not felt it do in a long time and he felt it run through him, fueling his meager strength that was draining more and more every minute. Going back, returning and submitting to darkness and death was not an option.
"We are not going back." He growled out in a stony voice. "I would rather die here, but I don't think we will." He tensed as he felt anger towards the people who had done this to him and Aragorn return. "I have something I have to do before the end."
O0O0O0O
Elrond squared his shoulders as he looked stonily ahead through a set of grey eyes hidden deep inside his cloak's dark blue hood. Glorfindel rode anxiously beside his friend and his eyes remained locked on the Lord of Imladris. He could feel Elrond struggling to remain in control of Vilya but he could also feel Elrond losing. He suddenly wondered if Imladris had not yet been revealed to Sauron. All the little things that held the refuge together had to be failing.
Elladan and Elrohir rode slowly in the back; their identical faces were masked by the hoods of their matching dark purple cloaks. Neither of them had spoken for some time. Well that wasn't entirely true, but they hadn't been themselves. Usually they were far more talkative and far more obnoxious than what they were now. They could actually be considered peaceful and well behaved.
Glorfindel crinkled his nose as a single large crystal white snowflake landed directly on it, melting and then re-freezing. He hated going over mountain passes and that was one of the reasons. The weather was always less than welcoming. The raised masses of earth seemed to delight in making everyone's lives miserable who dared to even consider going over them. The snow began to fall harder and fast as the mountains' unleashed their wrath and frustrations. "I never thought you could be hated by a mountain," Glorfindel jested wryly as he pulled his grey hood closer about his face and glanced up towards the heavens, watching the millions of white flakes descend to the cold ground and landing on anything and everything else in the process.
"Apparently it's possible," Elrohir snorted as he drew his cloak tighter about himself, not out of cold but more out of comfort. "I agree that it is rather strange to be hated by a mindless hunk of rock."
Glorfindel cast the younger twin a sharp glare and growled, "and lets see how much more angry we can make it by calling it "mindless" and a "hunk of rock"!" He rolled his eyes dramatically and sighed. "Why we decided to bring you both along I really can't remember. I must have been going through a lapse of sanity at the time when I agreed to this."
Elrond nearly chuckled but he was a bit too saddened for that so at the most a smile spread across his face. "Glorfindel, I can very easily see what you mean about Elladan and Elrohir finding trouble."
"What?" Elladan asked in abashment. He tossed his hood back and cast a scathing glare at everyone present, including a few rocks that just happened to be unlucky enough to be there. "I protest! Just because I am Elrohir's twin does not mean we are exactly alike!"
This drew a small chuckle from everyone save Elrond. The Lord of Imladris simply shook his head and wondered if Elladan had any idea how pathetically stupid he had just sounded. He decided that Elladan probably did not and his smile faded as he felt the cold wind growing stronger and heard it whistling a mournful tune among the many crevices and fissures of the mountain terrain.
"You know exactly what I meant!" snapped Elladan. "Just because Elrohir finds trouble frequently doesn't mean I am just as talented at it as he is! We aren't attached at the hip you know!" Elladan normally wouldn't have possessed such a short temper but as always his anxiety about Estel was getting the better of him and clearly everyone else.
Everyone fell to silence and Elrohir glanced sidelong at Elladan, who was looking at the ground angrily. But Elrohir knew that Elladan was not angry with any of them, he was angry with himself. He should have gone with Estel; he should have been there with his little brother to make sure that everything would be alright. But now for all he knew Aragorn was dead. Elrohir sighed as Glorfindel and Elrond started to ride further through the pass. "Come, brother. Being angry with yourself and wishing to relive the past won't bring him back. All we can do is continue and hope for the best."
Elladan sighed and bit out angrily, "you don't understand, do you? I should have been there, I should have guided him! Instead I decided I had been away from home too long and wanted to stay and rest. In return I found no rest." It was rather ironic, he thought darkly as he felt his heart feeling like it was shrinking. The very thing he had tried to avoid was the very thing he had found.
"If you remember, I wanted to stay home too. You are not entirely to blame. But Estel is forty in years of his own people. He is a part of their world whether we want him to be or not. We can't be with him forever. He is now fully grown and on his own," Elrohir said quietly. He then added, "It hurts me too, Elladan. But we have separate roads now."
Elladan shook his head to try and clear it of the sorrow he felt. He looked up at Elrohir and gave a half smile while his eyes remained entirely hurt looking. "Elrohir, promise me that you will always be beside me. I don't want to lose both of my brothers." He looked into his younger twin's grey eyes and watched as Elrohir smiled broadly. "And promise me you will never, under any circumstances say that there are separate roads!"
"I promise. But remember, we aren't joined at the hip!" he reminded in a tease, playing on Elladan's little tirade he had earlier.
Elladan rolled his eyes dramatically and said emphatically, "did I not just say that?"
Elrohir was about to make a quick remark when the horse he was on shied and pawed dirt up from the rocky earth. It snorted and began to shiver. Patting its neck Elrohir searched the sky and land about him with scrupulous eyes as he asked, "What's wrong?" The animal tried to turn around to bolt but Elrohir reined it in. "Something's wrong."
"Obviously," Elladan retorted as he struggled to maintain control over his own horse. But he was losing as the creature began to snort in some form of terror. Looking down at the horse he commanded gently and comfortingly as he might, "steady, steady."
Then Elrohir heard what the horses had long been aware of. A deep rumbling and an intense grating sound like rock sliding against rock. It was screeching and breaking… That was something that was not an everyday occurrence, or even a yearly occurrence. He looked at Elladan and asked in a hushed voice, "Do you not hear it?"
"I do. It's the mountain." Elladan stopped trying to control his horse as the creature jerked its head up abruptly and listened, swiveling its ears to catch the sound. Elladan's forehead crinkled in alarm and a growing discontent as he realized what these strange sounds meant. Some of the mountain was going to come down right upon their heads. "Do you think father and Glorfindel know?" he asked of Elrohir hurriedly.
"How should I know that?" asked Elrohir right back as he looked around frantically, searching for the source of the rockslide. "Should we go and tell them?" Elrohir began to feel to his face draining of color.
Elladan smiled as he drew the reins in closer on his horse and raised himself up in the saddle, preparing to ride the creature hard. "Does this not remind you of old times?"
"Unfortunately," Elrohir muttered. In those old times somehow he had always been the one to get hurt. Those were times before Estel, before they met Legolas. Those were the times when they were simply Elladan and Elrohir.
Elladan suddenly yelled, "ride!" With that he dug his heels sharply into his horse's sides and the creature bolted forward. The horse's mane smacked against his face and he flicked his head aside to give it a diverting path so the horsehair did not sting his eyes. His cloak fanned out behind him and he glanced quickly over his shoulder but he didn't see Elrohir.
Not having time or the chance to wonder about the whereabouts of his brother, Elladan continued to ride. He called out loudly, "Elrohir!"
"I'm right here! No need to blow my eardrum!" Elrohir proclaimed as he glanced sidelong at Elladan, whose face was one of shock. His mouth hung wide open as his jaw dropped in surprise.
"You-" Elladan snapped.
"You didn't think I would let you outride me, did you?" asked Elrohir as he spurred his horse on. A loud crack came from behind and both of the brothers looked back. Cold air filled their lungs as they drew a deep breath of frosty air that made their chests feel light and frozen.
"Elrond, where are Elladan and Elrohir?" asked Glorfindel as he gave his friend a strange look. The snow blew about them.
"Oh, no. Not them too," Elrond moaned wearily. He looked at Glorfindel with a disquieted frown.
"I am not sure, my friend," Glorfindel answered as he felt Asfaloth suddenly go tense beneath him. The horse snorted loudly and began to back up and then he stamped his back foot and snorted again. Glorfindel flipped his hood back to sharpen his senses, mainly his hearing that was fogged by the material over lapping his ears. His golden hair fell about his shoulders in blonde waves. "Asfaloth, what is it?" he asked quietly, placing his head near the horse's ear.
Elrond gave Glorfindel a curious expression and then suddenly his own horse began to perform its own antics. Elrond tried to control the horse but all his energy was being used in trying to maintain Vilya, who was escaping him. The ring was taking up what energy was not used in mourning.
His horse suddenly gave a loud snort and began to back step and kick. Elrond looked at Glorfindel, who was watching the stones around him. The golden-haired Elf finally heard the rumbling and then he heard another noise -galloping hooves… Elladan and Elrohir were riding ahead of the rockslide.
Elrond saw his sons coming over the crest of the hill that he and Glorfindel had just recently gone over and his eyes widened in alarm. "Elladan! Elrohir!" He cried for his children to hurry. But his cry was too much for the horse, which suddenly kicked out and Elrond found himself falling and watching while the horse jumped aside in terror as it heard the rockslide coming.
"Coward horse!" he cursed the beast under his breath. He looked at Glorfindel's horse's legs as the horse stopped alongside of him. Glorfindel extended his hand down to the Lord of Imladris and Elrond gladly took it. The Balrog slayer pulled him up on the horse so that Elrond was seated behind him.
Elladan and Elrohir pulled their horses to a blunt stop and there was the sound of the creatures' hooves scraping up soil and churning up gravel as they hurried to do their masters' bidding. "There is a rock slide. It seems Elrohir's comment earlier about "mindless" rock didn't bode well with the mountains." Elladan glanced back at his twin who was grinning sheepishly and said, "Now we have a mountain out for our blood! Thank you so much!"
"Well it's not like I told it to take it this way!" Elrohir argued before Glorfindel had the wisdom to intervene.
"Well I wish we could stay here and argue this until the mountain comes down on our heads but I think it might result in our untimely deaths!" The golden-haired Elf snorted and grumbled beneath his breath, "and to think I thought this might actually be a reasonably safe trip. I am going to be lucky if I do not need Galadriel herself to heal me once I get to Loríen!"
Elrond looked curiously at Glorfindel and then rolled his eyes. "I do not even want to know."
Glorfindel glared darkly at the raven-haired Elf-lord and said slowly, "that was so funny I forgot how to laugh." A loud screech echoed as the rocks slid closer and ground against one another.
"Well you will have to remember how later," Elrond said dryly as he looked behind at the rocks tumbling their way. "Otherwise you will be introducing us all to Mandos."
Elladan and Elrohir began to ride further then slowed their horses and spun them around, looking to see if their father and Lord Glorfindel had any intention of coming along with them. With the snow billowing about them, creating a 'mist' or curtain it created a rather dramatic scene. Glorfindel reluctantly urged Asfaloth forward and then all four of them rode away on three horses.
Glorfindel had a strange feeling, like he should turn back and leave Elrond and his sons to themselves. He had a feeling he was needed back home. His heart told him that rockslide they had just experienced wasn't because of anything Elrohir had said. It had something to do with Rivendell. Erestor was in more danger than he originally thought.
TBC…Not so much of an evil cliffie, sorry. But there are plenty more chapters and chances to create some evil ones! Muahaha! No worries.
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Thanks for the reviews for chapter thirteen!