Author's Note: Hey, I updated sooner than you thought! For this update you can thank my friend, Emily, who pushed me to finish! Ha, I finished early! Anyway, we agreed that I couldn't see Star Wars until I updated this...so here it is! Not particularly action filled and not much in the way of torture, but that's coming in the next chapter!
Reviewers: Thank you for reviewing! I've never been called an orc before, that was interesting. For those of you who were upset about Pippin's veryimplied death (which was all of my reviewers, except Emily who only said "AH!") you will like this chapter.
Through the night the orcs traveled with their unconscious prisoners, met with no resistance. For, by that time, the elves led by Thranduil and Gandalf were just arriving at the scene of the ambush. Across the ground many slain bodies were scattered. The sight was devestating for all who beheld it, but even more so for Gandalf, for upon arriving he had spotted the small body of a hobbit lying in the grass. With a heavy heart the wizard slipped off his horse, making his way slowly to the small figure, for once his shoulders slightly slumped in the manner of most elderly men, for his despair was great. When the distance was not as great, Gandalf could tell that the hobbit he gazed upon was none other than Pippin, the ceaselessly joyful hobbit with too much curiosity for his own good. As he approached, the wizard murmured sorrowfully, "That fool of a Took..."
Kneeling beside the hobbit, Gandalf instinctively checked for a pulse. Lo and behold, the pulse remained! Dizzy with shock and joy, the wizard promptly double checked his findings, to gain the same result. The resilience of the hobbit had saved young Pippin, though the severity of his wound still put him at risk of passing. On a somewhat less fortunate note, Pippin was the only one left behind that had survived, and he was barely surviving at that. Many a friend of Legolas had been slaughtered, including his close childhood friend Tawarchadel.Gandalf, though, after regaining his senses, called over one of the elves in the company who was particularly skilled in healing. Eruviluion, the formerly mentioned elf, rushed over, taking in all he could of Pippin's current state. Minutes later he stated softly, "He has survived this long, though 'tis not likely that he shall live to see the morrow. We must return him to the palace, for I have not the proper medicines nor herbs to help him."
"We must move quickly, else his death shall be inevitable. 'Twould be a shame to lose such a young one, his life has barely begun!" Eruviluion continued. The other elves carried Pippin back to Mirkwood, whilst Eruviluion carefully monitored the hobbit. Gandalf and Thranduil led the precession, discussing what they should do to rescue Mirkwood's prince and his friends.
At the moment, the wizard and the king were disagreeing. "We must send elves to rescue them! They shall perish if we do not!" Thranduil exclaimed in great frustration. Indeed, he had a point, for the morale of the Fellowship was waning. With such a loss strength too would vanish, leaving the unfortunate companions with no defence against the evil that threatened them.
"'Tis too late! We must believe that they shall come through, as they have in the past. To send aid to them now would merely destroy the lives of more elves and men! We must keep faith in their strength. When they are united, they are more powerful a force that Saruman believes them to be. His underestimation of them shall be his downfall, and their means of escape!" Gandalf pointed out. A good point, indeed! With an unconcluded argument the group arrived at the palace, where Pippin was taken to the Healing Wing. The room was soon filled with the healers of Mirkwood, all swarming around the young hobbit in an attempt to keep his death from becoming a reality.
Meanwhile, Aragorn and Gimli were waking. Within moments both had assessed the situation and had both come to the conclusion that, alas, 'twas a rather bad situation to be in. Coherent thoughts were difficult to form amidst the agony of their headaches, but as both were well trained in the dealings of pain and hardship, they managed to push aside the pain to realize that the world was indeed upside down. Their wrists and ankles were bound tightly with thick ropes, and both were slung over the shoulder of an orc, in the most disconcerting position that one frequently sees a sack of potatoes. And a sack of potatoes they felt like, as well! Aragorn first spotted Legolas who was, to the man's great dismay, unconscious, extremely pale, and had a reddish-brown stain growing rapidly on his tunic, near a split in the fabric.
By this time dawn was rapidly approaching, and the orcs decided hastily to sleep in a cave whilst they were able. The Fellowship, with only two conscious members, was dropped unceremoniously in a heap in the back of the cave. Two orcs were assigned to guard the cave's entrance, and with the prisoners believed to be unconcious, no guards were posted. Thus, Aragorn and Gimli finally had a moment to discuss quietly what to do about their predicament. Aragorn softly stated his previous observation to the dwarf, "Legolas' wound has been reopened. Whether by an orc scimitar or too much stress I do not know, and shall not know till he awakens and tells his tale."
"Aye, this is bad news! But have you not noticed that a hobbit is missing? What became of the laddie?" Gimli wondered. Aragorn, too, was concerned. Perhaps Pippin had managed to escape, though Aragorn doubted this to be true. He would have to wait till his companions awakened to learn of the hobbit's fate. A soft moan caught the man's attention, and immediately he turned to Legolas, who was stirring.
Slowly Legolas opened his eyes, only to have his fears confirmed. 'Twas not, as he had hoped, a bad dream that would flee upon his awakening. Which meant, of course, that Pippin was truly dead, and the Fellowship doomed to suffer at Saruman's hand. Guilt overrode the elf, for if he had not insisted that they visit his home, none of this would have happened. The Fellowship would be free, Pippin would be alive, and the unfortunate elven guards would not have fled to Mandos' Halls. Thus, the pain of Legolas' heart made the pain of his physical wounds seem insignificant. For a moment the elf wanted nothing more than to fade, freeing his soul to join his fallen comrades. Once the notion passed he silently rebuked himself for even considering this path when it would mean leaving his friends to further pain.
"Legolas," Aragorn whispered as the elf seemed to awaken.
The elf sat up slowly and stiffly, one hand automatically covering his injury. Leaning carefully against the cave wall, he asked quietly, "How fared the others?"
"Gimli and I are the only ones besides you who have awoken. Pippin is the only one who is not here. Do you know what became of him?" Aragorn whispered.
At once the man regretted his question, for Legolas' eyes filled with pain and sorrow as he replied, "Aye, though I wish his fate were different. He was felled by an orc scimitar, and he never rose. 'Tis very unlikely that he would have survived such a deep blow to the chest, and his absence here is a corroboration to his death. I did not reach him in time."
Legolas by this time was staring into the ground, fully accepting responsibility for the death of the hobbit, though 'twas not his fault. A great sorrow filled Aragorn now, for he cared deeply about his friends, and the loss of Pippin was overwhelming. For now, however, the man resolved to push aside his grief till his friend was in a less precarious situation. The elf's wound desperately needed tending, and perhaps more perilous was the elf's guilt, which gnawed at his heart, threating to destroy his very soul. Such an occurance would cause Legolas to fade, and he would die. Aragorn stated, "'Twas not your fault, Legolas! You must not allow yourself to believe it! Do not let this darkness overtake you, mellon nin, for the loss of you in addition to the loss of Pippin would surely cause all to despair. We need you to help keep hope alive, for it has not fled. You must also allow me to tend to your wound, else it will not heal properly."
"I will not fade, mellon nin," Legolas declared in a whisper. The man proceeded to tend to the elf's wound as best as the situation would permit, for they lacked water or herbs to clean the wound.
"How did you come to reopen that wound, laddie?" Gimli asked quietly.
"An orc decided that it would not be enough to simply give me a headache, as they have done for the rest of you," Legolas replied shakily. More pain had erupted as Aragorn tended carefully to the wound. Careful as the ministrations were, naught could be done to lessen the intense agony of such a wound, as it had been infected sometime whilst they traveled unconsciously. The elf, for his part, did a noteworthy job of keeping his friends from seeing the depths of his suffering. Shortly thereafter, Legolas found himself once again drifting to the peaceful oblivion of unconsciousness.
Birds twittered outside the window, whilst Pippin, sporting a nasty headache as a reverberation of the copious blood loss he had suffered, made his tortous way back toward consciousness. A soft, barely audible moan emitted from the ailing hobbit alerted his ardent watchers of his awakening. A sweet, melodious voice above the hobbit suddenly sounded, "How do you feel, Master Pippin? Can you remember what happened?"
Blinking repeatedly in an endeaver to drag himself fully from the grasp of unconsciousness, the young hobbit managed to find his voice and replied hoarsely, "I feel as would be expected of one who has been stabbed through the chest."
Musical laughter, tinkling like bells, resounded through the room, as Sirolwen declared, "Not even such a close brush with death dims the humor of a hobbit! 'Tis encouraging, for that means your recovery shall be swift. Now, what of the battle do you remember?"
Memories made a sudden and painful assualt upon Pippin's mind. The hobbit saw flashes of the battle in his mind; Aragorn fighting fiercely before a blow to the head took him out, Gimli suffering a similar fate, Merry fighting galantly nearby, Sam and Frodo defending each other, and Legolas' frantic attempts to reach him before an explosion of pain in his chest overwhelmed him, causing him to pass out. Aye, he nearly died, that he could remeber. Hesitantly, he asked, "How do my companions fare? For I remember much of the battle, till I myself was felled."
"All were taken by the orcs, save for you and the guards. We now have sent forth a party of elves to track them and assess their situation. Should rescue be a possibility, 'twould be a most favorable course," Sirolwen explained, deliberately leaving out the more likely course of action. She, like majority of the Mirkwood elves, disagreed with the present course of action. 'Twas dishonorable to stay hidden with a realm whilst renowned and beloved heroes were left to face the foes of their past. But none dared to speak publicly of it, for it was decided by Mithrandir, a Maia, whose decisions demanded the utmost respect and obedience.
Curiosity, however, was a well known trait of this particular hobbit, so Sirolwen was none too surprised when he asked, "And what course shall be taken if rescue does not seem to be a possibility? Surely you do not plan to leave them to torment?"
"'Tis not something I would care to be responsible for, but that is what would happen. Mithrandir has stated his opinion, and it must be respected. A great faith he has placed upon the strength and ingenuity of your former companions!" Sirolwen declared in response. Moments passed in silence before Sirolwen began her examination of the hobbit, carefully cleansing and rebandaging the wounds, announcing, "Your wound heals quite well. Soon you shall be able to move about. By the time your friends return- and they shall return!- you will be healed."
Gandalf, Thranduil, and the king's advisors were bickering in the king's council room. The elves sent to track the orcs had returned, reporting that if they did not liberate the Fellowship now, it was unlikely that Legolas would survive. His wound was grievious, infected, and indeed poisoned. To leave him in his current company would be a death sentence upon the beloved prince, for the orcs spared no water nor supplies for the company's packs for treatment of wounds. In their limited mentality, they believed keeping the elf near death would be their means of controlling the entire group. And truly their method worked, for none would risk the loss of another companion so soon.
"I will not sit by and allow my son to die such a torturous death!" Thranduil declared fiercely, "Valar help anyone who stands in my way! I will not be left without a son!"
"This is a most unexpected developement," Gandalf murmured thoughtfully, "as Saruman seemed set upon revenge! How is it possible to get revenge upon one who is dead? 'Tis not possible! Legolas will not be allowed to die. If his condition becomes too bad, the orcs will allow Aragorn to treat him if only to save themselves from punishment."
Thranduil was seething by this point. "Is this supposed to be reassuring, Mithrandir! That my son will be kept alive, but barely, until Saruman sees fit to allow his complete recovery, only to torture him in some other unimaginable way when escape has become a far away dream?"
"Yes, actually," Gandalf declared, "for he would first heal Legolas, then proceed with the unpleasantries. Meanwhile, they would be able to plan an escape, and they would return to us! Besides, I have every intention of drawing his attention away from his prisoners."
Thus the plan was decided. Gandalf would provide the best distraction possible, whilst the Fellowship was left to its own devices to plot an escape, though by Thranduil's order a score of elven soldiers would be standing by to assist the Fellowship when the time came. True, 'twas not the plan that the elves desired, but the wisdom behind it could not be denied. Many more difficult obsticales the Fellowship had faced, and never had they failed. Between Legolas, Aragorn, and Gimli a plot was sure to be formed, and the hobbits were both courageous and able. All that could be done now was hope, and have faith.
Unbeknownst to them at the moment, however, the group they were discussing was showing very little ability to think reasonably. Indeed, most of said group could only think of the agony they were currently experiencing at the hands of the orcs.
TBC
Author's Note: Please review! I need the inspiration, otherwise I won't finish this before June 10. Then, you'll have to wait till mid july for an update. So, please review!