A/N1: There is violence in this chapter so beware! Why is it that "mob mentality" can so easily override any humanity that may exist in a person?

A/N2: For those of you who don't know - a quirt is a riding whip with a short handle and a leather lash.

A/N3: The Valacirca is a star cluster known as the Sickle of the Valar, the Silver Sickle, or the constellation Great Bear.

Also, to the Valar she was known as Lady Palúrien but to the Eldar she was known as Yavanna, wife of Aulë. Both the Silver Sickle and Palúrien will be mentioned in the story Halgar tells and which can be found in the Book of Lost Tales I. The story is paraphrased, in part by me, and will be in italics.

8-) 8-) 8-) 8-)

Not the glittering weapon fights the fight, but rather the hero's heart
.Proverb

Chapter 9

Sacrifice

Legolas and Halgar were both feeling foolish for having been caught unawares. The two had been so involved in the historical significance of what was inside the cave behind them that they had been ignoring their individual instincts which if they had been paying attention, would have been screaming at both of them to be alert for intruders. The two looked at each other then Halgar shook his head in self-reproach at what he had done because for years he had been trained to be alert for the least little sign of danger and like an unschooled adolescent, had not done that and had been caught. He could place no blame on Legolas, for the responsibility had been his alone.

Five humans stood before the elf and the man - five slavers that Halgar had seen not that many days before and with whom he was all too familiar. Behind the five humans, Legolas and Halgar could see another five riders on horseback, rampaging through the beautiful little village, destroying fences, tearing up gardens and laughing as if they were enjoying themselves immensely.

One of the horses was bucking, having been thrown into a panic when someone's trousers that had been drying on a line outside of a house had gotten tangled in the horse's bridle as he passed beneath it. While the horse's rider yelled in delight and waved one arm dramatically, the man's friends cheered him on, taking bets among themselves as to how long it would take the panicking horse to rid itself of its rider.

The leader of the slavers, a large, foul-smelling human by the name of Himlad, laughed a moment at the antics of his men then turned back to the elf and human standing in front of him. He looked back and forth from Halgar to Legolas and back to Halgar, his face lighting up as he recognized the man from when they had been in the village days before, and tapping his hand with his riding quirt, he began to smile evilly.

"So, I was right and our brave little rabbit did come home! The way you hauled yourself out of here, I kind of thought you were hiding something and might be back for it."

He tapped himself on his head with his quirt as he paced back and forth.

"See, I got to thinkin' about it and asked myself why ten people would be so willing to die to protect some little coward who ran away instead of staying to help protect his people and his home."

Himlad continued to walk up and down in front of the two, frowning in concentration. He gestured around him.

"There ain't nothin' here worth protecting unless…" he suddenly spun and pointed the end of the whip at Halgar, "… unless he was hiding something in a place we couldn't see…" he made a big show of looking around Halgar to the cave, "… like a cave!"

Then, with one hand on his hip and while scratching his head with the whip some more, he took a step toward the cave. Having a thought, probably one of the first he had ever experienced, Himlad suddenly stopped and turned to his Lieutenant.

"Gracken, if either of these two moves, shoot 'em in the leg."

He then turned back and walked towards the cave, pausing beside Halgar.

"Now, little rabbit, I guess we finally get to see what you were hiding in there."

Halgar raised his eyes toward Legolas and gave him a slight nod of his head then made a move as if he meant to dart into the cave. The slaver shoved him back with one brawny forearm and while he was distracted, Legolas reached out with his right foot and kicked the wedge out from between the rocks. Instantly, the rocks that had remained so perfectly balanced above the cave for many long years came tumbling down, and when the dust and miscellaneous debris had finally settled, the entrance of the cave could no longer be seen.

After the slaver and his men had finished coughing and two of the five had picked themselves up from the bushes they had dived behind when the rocks came down, the now furious leader walked up to Legolas. He glared at him a moment, looked at the buried entrance of the cave, then turned his back on the elf as he tried to get his temper under control, after which he turned back to Legolas once more. He was so close to the elf that when he spoke, he was spitting on him and it was all Legolas could do to keep himself from backing away from the repugnant human.

"That was a really stupid thing to do!"

As his anger grew, the redder his face became until finally, with a scream of rage, Himlad drew back his hand and with great force, hit Legolas across the face with the whip. As he stumbled backwards, almost stunned by the attack, the enraged slaver hit him three more times, venting his anger and frustration, and each time yelling the same word.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid."

Halgar looked at Legolas sympathetically for there were now four great, angry-looking welts on the side of the blonde elf's face. He wanted to go to his friend and comfort him but was prevented from doing so when the Lieutenant finally noticed the box Halgar was holding in both trembling hands. Walking up to the man, the slaver tried to take the box from him but when Halgar wouldn't let go, he hit him in the stomach with his fist, driving all the air from the man's body and making him involuntarily loosen his grip on the box. Without even looking at the box or what was inside, Gracken walked up to his boss and put it into his hands.

Legolas had not realized until that moment that Halgar had been holding the box containing the Elendilmir when he had kicked the wedge loose to bring down the rocks and seal the entrance of the cave and knew that without a doubt, they had both just made a monumental error.

Sliding the quirt into his boot, Himlad took a moment to open the box then he, like Legolas had, gasped when he saw what the box contained. He didn't know, nor would he probably have cared, that what he held in his hand was not only valuable but was also an object of both historical and political significance. All he could see was a pretty bauble, one that would either make others envious of him for having it or could bring him a great price in the market place where they were going. He again turned to Legolas.

"If this pretty little thing was in there, then what other goodies did you bury, Master Elf?"

He stared at Legolas, waiting for an answer but when it wasn't forthcoming, he again lost his temper. Shoving the box into his Lieutenant's hand, he slammed a big fist into the elf's stomach, bending him in half and leaving him gasping for air.

"When I ask you a question, you freak of nature, I expect to get an answer. Now what was in the damn cave?" He grabbed Legolas's hair and jerked him upright.

Legolas stared back at the human, silently and defiantly. Himlad let go of Legolas's hair and violently shoved him back against the cave wall then turning to the four men behind him, he gave a nod towards the elf.

"Boys, see if you can loosen this freak's tongue."

Pulling Legolas away from the cave wall, the slaver nearest him drove his fist into the side of the blonde elf's face, spinning him around and causing him to stumble towards another slaver who caught him and then also drove his fist into his face, cruelly splitting his lip. They all took turns then, almost making a game of it as they would brutally hit him then would throw him from one slaver to the next, repeating their actions until he could take no more and finally fell to the ground. He lay there, barely moving, both eyes swelled and his face severely bruised but when Halgar made a move as if to go to his aid, the head slaver nudged him in the chest with the whip and uttered one word.

"Don't."

Halgar stepped back and remained still for he couldn't help Legolas if he was injured or dead and he did not want to do anything else to further anger the five slavers.

The thought crossed Halgar's mind that perhaps Legolas would feel compelled to give away his secret rather than suffer further torments at the hands of the humans. He blushed as he reminded himself that for many years, the elf had kept a secret that was the equal to the one he had been keeping. It was at that point that he chided himself for even doubting the Prince for he knew that the elf would die before revealing either the identity of Isildur's heir or the secret he had buried just moments before.

Halgar steeled himself to what was going on in front of him. Until he had been forced to watch those he loved being murdered before his eyes, the only conflicts he had ever been witness to had been no more than trifles and could almost be called laughable in comparison. One of the youths of his village might give a black eye to another in a fight over a maiden or a wife might argue with her husband over a pair of socks on the floor. What he was witnessing at that moment was brutality in one of its purest forms and his heart was crying out in protest at the torment his friend was being subjected to.

After Legolas had fallen to the ground, the four humans had not stopped their abuse and had continued to kick him, caring nothing for where they were kicking or how much physical damage the blows were causing. Halgar had never heard a bone break before but when one of the slavers kicked Legolas in the side and he heard a dull snap, his stomach turned and he closed his eyes.

Again and again the men kicked the elf and even after he curled himself into a ball to try and protect himself, they still kept kicking him, landing punishing blows on his head and back. At one point he tried crawling away from his tormenters, but they had just laughed as they grabbed his legs and pulled him back to where they could have easier access to him. Halgar noticed that his friend's efforts to protect himself were getting weaker until he barely moved as even more punishment was inflicted on him.

The humans kept demanding that Legolas tell them what was in the cave and when he refused to tell them, they called him a filthy, stupid, stinking elf then punctuated each hateful word with another damaging kick. When Halgar heard Legolas start to choke on his own blood, his compassion overrode all other feelings and he moved forward and threw his body over that of the injured elf to try and keep the brutal humans from hurting him further.

Finally Himlad stepped forward from where he had been standing watching the ordeal and called an end to it. The thought had just come to him that he knew of someone who regularly came to the slave auctions looking for new and unusual merchandise and knew, for a fact, that the man would be interested in buying this pretty little elf. He nudged Legolas with his foot and laughed as the elf flinched, then sat on his heels so as to get a better look at the injured being laying on the ground in front of him.

"You know Gracken," he looked up and met his Lieutenant's eyes, "I bet Tarag would be interested in buying this elf - you know how he is about buying unusual merchandise - that is, he might be interested if this thing lives."

He reached out with his quirt and poked at Legolas who, even as severely injured as he was tried to move away from the human's touch but calmed when Halgar laid a hand on his shoulder and whispered for him to be still.

Gracken shoved Halgar backwards and away from the elf then squatted down next to his leader. Grabbing Legolas by his hair he pulled his head off the ground and peered intently at the bruised and bloody face.

"He don't look too pretty at the moment, boss."

Letting go of Legolas's head, the man slammed it to the ground so hard that it bounced. There was no reaction to this additional brutality for Legolas was no longer capable of anything more than a weak movement - he couldn't even seek peace in unconsciousness.

Himlad turned to Halgar.

"Do you know anything about healing?" He asked.

"Yes sir, I do and if you will allow me to, I would be more than happy to see to the elf's injuries because if he is in better shape, you can ask for more money when you sell him."

The leader scratched his head for a moment, then told his men to put the two into the empty wagon and give the man anything he needed to see to the elf's injuries. As Halgar moved to follow the humans who were dragging Legolas away, Himlad stopped him again by poking him in the chest with his quirt. When the slaver leaned in close to speak to him, it took every ounce of control Halgar had amassed over his lifetime not to shrink back from the man's foul stench.

"Little rabbit, if the elf lives, it will make me very happy, but if the elf does not live - then neither will you."

He then turned and walked away to where is horse was busy eating the plants out of someone's garden.

8-) 8-) 8-) 8-)

Halgar had no desire to watch as the wagon he was riding in left his village, for it might be the last time he would ever see it and he did not want his last memories of his home to be ones filled with broken fences and graves. He kept his attention on his friend as he checked him over so that he could better tell what injuries he had and what he needed to do.

One of Legolas's eyes was swelled completely shut, his lips were split and bleeding and bruises covered most of his face. There were numerous gashes on his head that would need careful cleaning and stitching and the ribs would need binding as well. The worst injury, however, was the reopened dagger wound from the orc fight and it was on that wound that Halgar began his work, frowning as he once more wondered how supposedly intelligent beings could inflict this much damage on another being - and all for the sake of a pretty bauble. There was not much he could do for his friend with the scant supplies he had been given, but he would use what he had to the best of his ability.

Halgar talked to Legolas as he cleaned and tended his injuries, telling him stories that he heard as a child and adventures he had always dreamed of having. He knew that there were probably internal injuries but he did not have the means to tend them and could only hope that the Prince was strong enough to survive them. Though Legolas had not spoken since being put into the wagon, Halgar knew that he was listening when the elf lightly squeezed his hand.

He lost track of time as he tried to keep his friend alive. He didn't care so much for his own life at that point but it would have killed his soul if the selfless elf died because he had tried to keep the secret of what he knew the cave contained. When Legolas began to have difficulty breathing, Halgar pulled his body into a semi-reclining position against his own and bathed his fever hot face with a cool cloth and a bit of water from the flasks one of the slavers had thrown into the wagon.

Knowing that he should try to get his friend to drink some water and give him some relief from the horrible pain he was in, Halgar took one of the flasks and mixed a strong dose of a pain-relieving herb in with the liquid. All Legolas had done since they had left the village of Hope was stare listlessly out through the bars of the prison wagon as it traveled through the Narrows. He knew for a fact that captivity would eat at the wood elf's soul until it claimed either his sanity or his life.

He did not speak, move or cry out even though Halgar new the pain he was experiencing must almost be consuming him. When the water flask was held to his mouth, Legolas didn't turn his head away or even acknowledge the offering but kept staring outward as they headed through the trees of his homeland on their journey east. Finally, whether it was from thirst or from the fact he wanted to shut the irritating human up, he drank some of the water. It was already too late when he realized that the liquid had pain herbs in it and he glared at his friend until he finally fell asleep.

Halgar continued to hold Legolas in his arms and later that night, when the elf's fever rose, he bathed his face in an attempt to bring the fever down knowing that there was little else he could do to ease his friend's suffering. It saddened him to see the proud Prince of Mirkwood so diminished and as he gently smoothed the fever damp hair away from the bruised forehead, he tried to think of something to say to him that would be of comfort. Finally, he let his heart guide his thoughts.

"Do you hear the trees calling out to you, Legolas, telling you that they miss you and that they care for you and wonder when you will return to them? Do you hear the leaves whispering to you, telling you to be strong and that you will get through this? The oak, the ash, the aspen and the pine all call out to you, telling you that they are a part of you, a part of your heart, just as you are a part of them and will be to the end of all things. They tell you that you have to be strong, to hold on and never give up."

Halgar looked down to the sleeping face of his friend but there was no response to his version of what the trees might just be saying. Even though his first effort at reaching the wounded elf had not been successful, Halgar vowed that he would not give up on the Prince, nor would he let the Prince give up on himself - and his life. Once more he searched his knowledge of the lore of Arda, for something special that might be able to capture the wounded elf's attention. His eyes lit up when he realized that the answer to his search lay just above his head, in the heavens, for it was a well-known fact that all elves loved the stars. And so he began.

Aulë, Mastersmith of the Valar, was at toiling at his forge, making a silver sickle. Melko (also known as Morgoth) interrupted his work, telling him a lie concerning the Lady Palúrien, his wife. Aulë was so wrothful that he broke the sickle with a blow. Seven sparks leapt up and winged into the heavens. Varda caught them and gave them a home in the Heavens as a sign of Palúrien's honor. They fly now ever in the shape of a sickle round and round the pole.

Some have said that the seven stars were set at that time by Varda to commemorate the coming of the Eldar, and that Morwinyon, who blazes above the world's edge in the west was dropped by her as she fared in great haste back to Valinor. Now this is indeed the true beginning of Morwinyon and his beauty, yet the seven stars were not set by Varda, being indeed the sparks from Aulë's forge whose brightness in the ancient heavens urged Varda to make their rivals; yet this did she never achieve.

When he had finished his tale, he again looked down into his friends face, looking carefully for any response and when he saw none, he seriously wanted to cry for he knew the damage that had been done to the elf's body but more importantly to his spirit had been significant and was leaving him without the will to continue - he was beginning to fade.

"Legolas, I know you have been through a lot lately, but please, my friend, hold on for just a little longer, if not for my sake, then for Strider's sake."

Though dawn was still some hours away, the sky at the horizon was a lighter shade than the inky blackness above it. Halgar smiled, for the two of them had made it through another day and the promise of new and better things lay just over the horizon - if they managed to keep their faith. Looking down at the elf he had been holding in his arms all night, his good feelings immediately fled for Legolas was barely breathing, his breaths shallow and far between, and when he felt for the elf's pulse, it was there but very faint and erratic.

"No. No. No!" He said as he laid the Prince flat on the padding of straw in the wagon. "Legolas, you are not going to do this to me - do you hear me you stubborn elf?"

One of the slavers who had been riding beside the wagon, heard Halgar almost yelling at the unconscious elf and snorted sarcastically before nudging his horse with his spurs and riding forward to talk to his friend.

Halgar poured a trickle of water into the elf's mouth and after he reflexively swallowed, he patted his cheeks, trying to get him to wake or stir. When he had done everything he could and there was still no improvement, Halgar sat with his back up against the bars of the wagon with his eyes closed. A solitary tear rolled down his cheek and he reached up and wiped it away, angry with himself for being so weak especially now when his friend needed to draw on his strength. Again raising Legolas slightly and scooting in behind him, Halgar tried to will the elf to wake as he talked to him.

"Have you seen the Prince anywhere around here or do you know where he has gone off to? You know the one I am talking about - the mighty warrior - the one who made me climb a tree while he took on a horde of Uruk Hai by himself."

He looked down but there was still no movement or response from the elf and he knew that if he could not get him to listen and could not rekindle the guttering flame that was his spirit, that he would probably be dead before the sun rose.

"Can you imagine how Strider is going to feel when he finds out that you have gone from this world without even saying goodbye? Does the promise you made to him mean nothing to you? You have been a good brother to him and he will despair at your passing - you know this yet you would leave him to walk his path alone and without the brother of his heart at his side. What has happened to you, my friend, that is causing you to despair? I know that you, as a warrior, are not afraid to die, but what I would like for you to tell me is, why are you so afraid to live?"

He shifted on the floor of the wagon, trying to get a bit more comfortable.

"I will miss you Legolas, son of Mirkwood, for I have looked into your heart and have seen the nobility that lives there and I know that as surely as I draw breath, this world is going to be greatly diminished without you in it. I haven't known you that long but I still have learned a valuable lesson from you and that is, that there can be friendship along with duty and that a person doesn't have to live his whole life without having friends. And I want you to know that I do consider you to be my friend."

His heart leapt in his chest when he felt the Prince stir and when he looked down, saw that the sapphire eyes of his friend were quietly watching him. He smiled weakly at the human.

"You remind me a lot of Strider, Halgar." Then his eyes slipped shut once more.

Halgar didn't move from his position but sat as he had for most of the night, holding the Prince of Mirkwood in his arms. He gently smoothed the tendrils of hair off the elf's cooling forehead and carefully tucked them behind his ears.

"Sleep my Prince, for I will let nothing further harm you while you rest."

Wars are fought on many fronts and not the least of these being the one fought for the spirit of those we care for - those we call friend. The hero's heart had won the battle this night but with the victory came the knowledge that the contest had been close and it had been won only by the measure of the beat of a noble heart. Halgar knew that his friend would live and would not forsake his life and bond with his heart brother. That knowledge was enough for him and he finally let loose of the emotions he had been holding in check all night and finally bowed his head and began to quietly cry.

TBC

8-) 8-) 8-) 8-)

Deana: I am really surprised that Halgar's little comment was so well received - I am glad it got you laughing. Thank you for the review!

Star-Stallion: I'm glad you enjoyed it! LOL! Of course I rated what Halgar said right next to the nightmare he had of getting his butt stuck going through his bedroom window! Thanks for the review. Hope you enjoy this chapter as well.