Legolas stared to the ranger in shock, his surprise not allowing him to say anything.
Aragorn merely looked to his bound hands, and then busied himself with looking over the bandages on Legolas' wounded arm. "I found out five years ago. I was in Rohan, and the king and his advisors were worried about the new human commander of Sauron. It seemed that his power was growing considerably more than we suspected."
The ranger appeared satisfied with the tightness of the dressing, and looked to his stunned elven friend. He leaned closer, his gray eyes showing his concern and regret. "I didn't want Rothinzil to know. You understand as much as I do how he would react if he knew."
Legolas looked sharply to him. "It's not as if he wouldn't have reason!" calming, he looked to the ground, and using his right arm, rubbed his wearied eyes carefully. "We all thought Freca was dead. Things would have been better that way."
Aragorn nodded, but was distracted as he was about to respond. Looking across camp, he could see some of the hill men and orcs starting to fill out the woods. Watching some carrying what supplies had been used in the different camps, the ranger noticed that only a couple orcs came towards Legolas and Aragorn.
"On your feet, scum!" one growled distastefully as it looked on to the two. Getting impatient as Legolas struggled to stand with his broken hip and an injured left arm, one yanked the prince fully to his feet, and threw him back towards the rising ranger.
"You, watch the elf! He falls, and you'll regret it!" then, the foul beasts sat back and watched as a dazed Aragorn attempted to keep the wounded elf on his unstable feet.
Legolas tried not to let on to his pain, but his fractured hipbone gave way to agony he had not felt in a long time. Every time he moved, whether it be his lower or upper body, severe pain shot through his entire form, and coupled with every other wound he had received.
"Legolas, maybe I should carry you." Aragorn suggested after watching his friend struggle to remain standing. "You can't travel very far on that leg, and then you'll make it worse so it won't heal right." His friend's concern made him laugh, but the elf could not deny that the ranger was right.
"Aragorn, I don't think that you would get very far." He said seriously, locking gazes with his well meaning friend. The ranger didn't answer, but just turned boldly to the orc nearest to them.
"Untie me." He demanded of the foul beat, but his bravado merely earned the human a hard fist across the face. Staggering back, the ranger looked back to the orc. "If you want me to help the elf, you'd better untie me." The orcs laughed at his "request", but did release Aragorn. Instead, though, they tied a loop at the end of a rope, and tightened it around the man's throat.
Laughing, they cuffed Aragorn on the side of the head with a, "Stupid human! Thought we'd let him prance off with the elf!" Legolas looked to Aragorn with a look of regret and guilt, and moved to tell the ranger to just forget it. But, the look in the mortal's eyes stopped him.
Don't, Legolas. I'm fine. Aragorn's thoughts were plain to the prince, and he nodded his resignation. He wasn't happy with his friend's predicament, but he would succumb this time.
Aragorn moved forward, and carefully picking Legolas up in his strong arms, turned to the orcs. Proving to them that he would not be intimidated, Aragorn let the orc grab the end of the rope, and then they were moving.
:0Ж0:
Aragorn nearly staggered with exhaustion as they finally reached the mouth of the River Limlight, near Fangorn Forest. The orc/ hill men company had traveled all day and mostly into the night after leaving Moria, and had covered a lot of ground. Unfortunately for the elf, and especially the ranger, that had meant over 150 miles of traveling over mountains and low hills.
By the end of the day, Aragorn's legs had been close to giving out, and his head wound was affecting his vision. Near sundown, the orcs were practically dragging the elf and ranger on, and Legolas was growing increasingly worse.
His internal bleeding was sapping more and more of his strength as time went on, and the rattling of his broken bones was not helping. Aragorn had tried to ease the journey for his friend, but it had grown increasingly difficult, as the pace of the group had strengthened. After awhile, the ranger could barely keep himself up and moving. Legolas had gotten heavier and heavier, and it had been all he could do to keep the elf in his arms. Aragorn was suffering from the sun and the harsh treatments of the orcs and hill men, whilst Legolas began to drift in and out of consciousness.
Now, Aragorn could not help but collapse to his knees, and cradle his lifeless friend in his trembling arms. No matter how much the orc pulled on the noose, the ranger would not, could not, rise to his feet. He just accepted that he might get punished, and prepared himself for the inevitable.
Nevertheless, the punishment never came, but Freca did come to his side. Looking down on his former leader with disgust, Freca nudged Aragorn's wearied calf with the toe of his boot.
"So, you finally give out, huh? I always knew you were a stubborn one." An evil smile drew across his face, and he knelt down next to the ranger and his injured elven friend.
"You see, we're ultimately heading for Mordor. You and your precious elf here will be servants of Sauron." Freca drew close to Aragorn, his face only inches away from the fatigued ranger's. "I will enjoy watching my son get rid of you." Aragorn did not allow his surprise to show on his face, but inwardly, he cringed away.
Freca had a son? Shivering, Aragorn silently pitied the boy. Any son of this man had to have been raised exactly as Freca had, and living in Mordor could not be a bonus of any kind.
Freca laughed, knowing the ranger's thoughts. Not commenting on his son anymore, the Mouth of Sauron sat back on his heels, and stared at the other man. Waiting to gouge the other's reaction, he spoke again.
"Right now, we'll be loading you and your friend on to a "borrowed" Corsair ship, and we'll be taking you to Mordor. You two should have a lot of fun!" laughing, he waited, and put a hand to his chin, seemingly as if he was thinking deeply.
"But, I really don't want to be bothered with you on this trip, as I am already weary of the boat situation. So," here, he drew his sword again behind the ranger's back.
Aragorn, through the younger man's rambling, had not paid attention to any of it. He had known from the first time he had laid eyes on Freca that they'd be heading for Mordor, so he wasn't too surprised. He only had eyes for Legolas right now, his worry for his closest friend overshadowing everything else.
"See you at Amon Hen." Freca sneered, and brought the hilt of his sword down as hard as he could on the back of Aragorn's head. The ranger dropped at once, not even noticing as Legolas rolled from his grasp. He merely blacked out, and lay still on the grass.
Sheathing his sword, Freca stared at the fallen dúnadan with contempt, and then motioned to some of his men. "Get the ranger and the elf loaded!" turning to the woods, his smile slowly drew across his teeth. "It's going to be a long trip."
:0Ж0:
Clasping the rail in front of him tightly, Lord Elrond Peredhil looked over the falls of his home distractedly. His son had been gone for weeks, and just two days ago, he had received word from Mirkwood.
It seemed that Estel had spoken with the king, and now Thranduil knew of the dangers his son was in. Mirkwood's king had expressed his worries for both Legolas and Estel, but also his anger. Legolas, the prince, had been abducted from his own realm, and no one had known. No one except Aragorn.
Now, Elrond could sense a darkness coming. Something was not only threatening the Heir of Isildur, but someone or something was coming to Imladris. He had not been this certain since the murders nearly twenty-five years ago. He had been sure of the dangers then, and the half-elf had not been disappointed.
"Oh, Estel. What trouble you get into." He muttered quietly to himself. Looking up to the sky, he sighed.
"If anything, Elrond, he got it from you." Smiling, Elrond didn't turn as he sensed a familiar presence behind him.
"Oh? I thought it was the twins who influence him." A slight chuckle came, and a golden haired elf stepped up to stand next to his lord and friend.
"Nay, mellon nín, for even those infuriating brats had to learn it from somewhere." He succeeded in a small chuckle from a disturbed Elrond, but even that faded quickly.
"Oh, Glorfindel, what has he gotten into his time? If the prince is dead, then my Estel will be forever shattered." A strong hand was placed reassuringly on his shoulder, and Glorfindel looked out to the falls with Elrond.
"Don't give up. Estel will prove himself yet again." Elrond closed his eyes, and sagged against the firm form of his friend and counselor.
"I sure hope so."
:0Ж0:
Aragorn awoke with a groan, his senses aware of the chill in the air. Moving slightly, he recognized the feel of rope around his wrists, and he groaned again. Not being able to feel the bump on the back of his head, the ranger just laid back for a moment.
Hearing the sound of waves against a shore, Aragorn opened his eyes part way, and glanced around briefly. Seeing some of the ruins around him, he realized exactly where he was. Amon Hen.
Struggling to sit up, a thought struck. Where was Legolas? Looking around frantically, he saw the elf lying a few feet away from him, not appearing any better than he had the night before.
Realizing that a full day had passed, anger swelled in Aragorn. It seemed that even being knocked out wasn't good enough for Freca, but he had drugged the ranger while he had been unconscious.
Seeing orcs and hill men coming, he sighed. Crawling over to the motionless form of his friend, Aragorn used his hands to check the elf's condition. Smiling in relief when Legolas groaned at his probing, he waited for the blue eyes to open.
Legolas, seeing Aragorn kneeling over him, gave a moan, and attempted to sit up. The mortal put out a hand to keep him from rising, and just shook his head at the elf's determination.
"Stubborn elf." He said with a smile, and Legolas responded with a weak laugh of his own.
"Filthy human." The prince whispered, but was evidently satisfied to see that Aragorn did not look as if he had been hurt any more. "It finally looks as if you can take care of yourself without me for a little while." Legolas commented with a smirk. Coughing just a little, he leaned against Aragorn's thigh. "I see you're no worse for the wear than before."
Aragorn put a hand on Legolas' forehead, but did not give voice to his worry. "Except for a new bump on the back of my head, you mean." He added without thinking, and regretted it as Legolas jerked to look at him.
"Estel..." but, the ranger interrupted him.
"No, it was just a knock on the head. Freca didn't want me aware for the trip down here, so he took care of that."
"Aragorn! That's the third hit in two days... What do you mean for the trip down here?" looking around, he finally realized that they weren't anywhere near the Misty Mountains anymore. "Where are we?" he asked after a moment.
Aragorn shook his head with a smile. "Amon Hen, but, I'm guessing we passed right by Caras Galadon, so the Lady Galadriel most likely doesn't know we've been taken."
Legolas smiled his negative thoughts. "No, the Lady of the Golden Wood knows much more than we do, Human, and she undoubtedly knows that we've been captured. However, there most likely isn't anything she can do about it."
Aragorn threw up his bound arms in exasperation. "Like that does us any good!" he exclaimed, but then drew in a deep breath. "I'm just worried, Legolas."
The prince put a comforting hand on his friend's, and his smile grew. "I'd be even more worried if you didn't." He remarked, and then chuckled as Aragorn shook his head.
"What am I going to do with you?" he questioned, amused. Legolas smiled back.
"Help me up." Aragorn laughed, but then braced his bound arms behind his friend's back, and pushed. Legolas pushed upwards with his arms, and soon, they had the elf leaning against the ranger.
But, the two's short relief period was shattered as an amused voice rang out. "How sweet, looks like the prisoners are awake at last." Freca stepped from the shadow of a tree, and his grin sent shivers down both Aragorn and Legolas' backs.
The man radiated an inner evil like nothing else, and both good beings could not stand the presence of the other. Freca, knowing this, used the dislike as much as he could. Walking closer to the two friends, he could not help but gloat.
"It seems that the orcs' bloodlust is becoming stronger than even I can control." Legolas' face paled further, but he straightened his back in reference to more torture. Freca laughed. "I knew it, Elf. You are foolish, willingly sacrificing yourself for him." The evil man bent over, looking at Legolas closely. "Is he worth it?"
The prince didn't respond, but just looked to Aragorn. I'm sorry. His gaze sent his regret, but also his determination. He really wouldn't allow harm to come to Aragorn if he could help it.
Aragorn merely glared at his friend. He, in turn, wasn't about to let these monsters hurt his best friend more than they already had. Freca wanted to satisfy the orcs, huh? Well, Aragorn was resolved that he would be the one used this time.
Freca gestured to Dúnhere, who had come up behind the man from Mordor, and the hill man moved to gather Legolas from Aragorn's grasp. However, the ranger was not going to release his friend so easily.
"Enough! He did nothing to deserve this! He is the best friend I will ever have, and I will not let him pay for the weakness in my blood. I will not let him be the price for my life." Aragorn looked straight to Freca, challenging him.
"How much do you want to break me, Freca? How many years have you yearned for my blood?" the Mouth of Sauron moved to strike the insolent ranger, but restrained himself in time. Instead, his lips drew across his teeth in a straight line, his anger barely contained.
"Fine, you want to offer yourself to the orcs, go right ahead. But," he looked to Legolas, and reached down. Yanking the injured elf to his feet, he threw Legolas into Dúnhere's waiting arms, and then looked back to Aragorn.
"He'll watch every minute of it." Aragorn raised his chin in defiance, but his gaze flickered over to the devastated face of his friend.
"I won't let it happen again, Legolas. I won't." He then looked to Freca. Staring the younger man coldly in the eyes, he didn't break contact until the Mouth of Sauron tore his eyes away from the strong gaze of the ranger.
Yelling to some of the orcs, he ordered them to take Aragorn to the main ruins. Smiling, he grabbed the other man's chin, and moved his face inches from Aragorn's. "Let's see you get away from this, Ranger." He said with disdain, and then hit Aragorn hard across the face.
Strider didn't fall over as orcs grabbed his arms and held him up, but he could feel blood dribble down his face from a cut near his lip. Next to him, he could hear Legolas' labored breathing, and almost cursed in Freca's face at his cruelty. Having Legolas dragged like this would not be good for the broken bones and ripped insides, but as of now, there was nothing Aragorn could do for his friend.
Himself being dragged, Aragorn could not help but think of what the orcs were about to do to him. Through bushes and up hills, the ranger was left to dwell on the near future, and he could not help but sweat with anxiety. From behind, he could hear Legolas' minute cries of pain, and he closed his eyes against his friend's torment.
All too soon, the small company came to ruins that seemed to be an ancient room of some kind. An old stone altar rested in the center of the 'room', and torches lit the nearly enclosed area. Orcs gathered around the table, but separated into a thin aisle way as Aragorn and Legolas were led up next to the table.
Legolas was handed off to a couple hill men that stood around the table, and Aragorn was dragged until he was almost falling over the table. Orcs came from behind him, and lifted him easily on top of the crude surface. Clawed hands ripped at his bonds until his arms were free, and cruel hands removed his boots from his feet. Stronger hands held his arms and legs down as new cords were wrapped around curved metal pieces attached to the end of the table. When he was secured, Aragorn was practically lying eagle-like across the altar.
Looking around quickly with his eyes, Aragorn could see a couple of orcs through the throng, and they appeared to be sharpening a scimitar. Gulping, he laid his head back against the table, and closed his eyes; waiting.
Legolas could only watch in horror as his friend was prepared to be tortured. He, too, noticed the orcs in the corner, and if not for the pain in his body, would be fighting to be near Aragorn. He could see the human's fear, but also sensed his strength. Aragorn was going to go through this for a cause noble enough in his mind, but Legolas knew that the ranger was still scared.
Seeing an orc with the scimitar walking towards Aragorn, the prince renewed his struggles until Dúnhere came over a placed a blade under his chin. "Give me reason, Elf. Just one." He threatened with venom, and glared into the crystal blue eyes. Legolas' struggles stopped, and all he could do was watch as his friend was subjected to the mercy of the orcs.
:0Ж0: