Yes, the title for this chapter IS corny. But I couldn't resist, field trip to Boston tomorrow, just seemed right. Lol.
Aragorn shivered as he looked at the elf next to him. The being was panting and his eyes were wide with fear.
Fear for Aragorn.
Cairdor had come in, had taken the ranger away claiming to need his help with something, he had brought the ranger to the small room they were in now. It wasn't cold, per se. It wasn't even technically a room, it was a small, windowless courtyard, the only door was a hidden patch in the ground that led to a wine cellar below. Aragorn doubted anyone knew about it.
He watched the man before him with distrust, he had every right to be distrustful, chained, as he was, to the wall. He had come to the conclusion that this was Cairdor's private place, ideal for the torture he was going to inflict upon them.
Aragorn could barely breathe, he had been there for ten minutes, repeatedly punched in the stomach.
The red haired man punched him again, and Aragorn heard the distinctive crack of a broken rib. He hissed in pain.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw the door open and Ambyre and a few of his men stepped out, eyeing the small place in wonder. One of them, a man with black hair unchained the elf and held him back as Cairdor instructed, another helped.
"Unchain the ranger," Cairdor said, "but bind his hands and feet, I prefer him at my mercy that way."
He waited impatiently, and when the unchaining had been complete, and the ranger's hands and feet bound, he kicked out, catching the ranger in the stomach. Aragorn gasped and curled in on himself, but the barrage of hit and kicks did not stop, and soon he was panting for even the slightest breath.
--"Let him go!" the elf gasped, struggling to free himself
"He has done nothing; I am to blame. Let him go!"
The man holding Legolas slapped him, hard, across the face.
The elf felt the warm blood slide down his cheek.
His eyes were a tortured blue as he looked pleadingly into the icy grey ones of the man. hurting his friend. "Release him," he murmured softly, begging. It broke Estel's heart to hear his friend degrade himself so.
"What do you say, Ranger?" asked Cairdor with a cold, laughing light in his eye. "Shall I keep doing this? Or torture the elf in your place?"
Estel inhaled sharply, his mind wavering. Just a day or two ago he would have gladly given the torture to Legolas.
Now, however, as he looked in the helpless eyes of his friend, he was not so sure.
"Be quick in your decision, Ranger," spat Cairdor. "I will not wait forever."
Aragorn swallowed. To let them continue torturing him would surely mean his death, yet could he do otherwise?
If he told them to torture Legolas instead, the fragile bond of trust between the two would break and never be forged again, he feared.
The man stood gasping against the wall, trying to ignore his pain as he considered what to do.
He knew there was only one option open to him.---
"Leave…him…alone…" he managed between gasping breaths. Cairdor moved away from the elf and grinned.
"I so hoped you would say that, ranger," he said quietly, "I really did."
"This should be fun then," Aragorn replied, gaining his breath for a moment. The moment passed as the man pinned Aragorn down on the ground with his knee. He smiled fully at the ranger.
"I am nice to you, Strider," he said mockingly, "I once knew a man who did things far worse to his captives, would have liked your elf friend there. He had a thing for blonds, maybe, when this is all over, I'll look him up, hmm? See if he's interested in buying?"
Hot anger coursed through Aragorn, he knew fully the implications of what the man was saying, and it angered him beyond comprehensible thought that Cairdor would even think of doing that to Legolas.
"No!" he cried, trying to throw the man off him. In his panic induced state he thought that the red-haired twin had said the man was there. He was terrified of what was happening to Legolas. "No!" he cried again, "NO! Legolas!"
Cairdor had no intention of inviting his old friend, Morind, to his new home, but he could play with the ranger a bit on that train of thoughts.
"Would you like to see what your friend is seeing? He has grey eyes, like yours; maybe your friend will think it is you, hmm?"
"Legolas!" Aragorn screamed, trying desperately to get out of the man's hold. He needed to get to his friend, he needed to.
Cairdor grinned in satisfaction, seeing he mounting panic in the ranger's eyes. "Aye, and he has black hair. He'll smell like blood, he works in a slaughter house when he's not…playing…with his victims."
The description was doing what it was meant to do, the ranger's panic increased and he desperately screamed out his friend's name. "Legolas! No! No!" he was close to sobbing, desperately he fought Cairdor; he had to save the elf…he had to…
His hands gripped the grass beneath his fingers, he didn't know, couldn't know, that in Rivendell his brother was also grasping the grass as he sat by a river.
"Estel!" Legolas cried his friend's name, hoping that it would soothe the man, it had the opposite affect on the now frantic human, who mistakenly thought the elf was calling out for help.
"Let me go!" he roared, the position he was in was uncomfortable, his arms were pinned off to the side. Unexpectedly Cairdor rolled off him, and Ambyre released Legolas.
The blonde elf rushed to his friends side and kneeled in the soft, green grass.
"Estel? Hush, hush, I am well, I am well," he said in elvish, trying to get the human to focus.
But he was only allowed that one second before he was pulled away. Aragorn was hauled up by one of the men, allowing him a full view of the man restraining the prince. The man had black hair and grey eyes.
But something clicked in his mind, Cairdor had said perhaps the man was not there. Legolas was not…
The human let out a shaky breath of relief, his eyes locking on Cairdor's. He didn't see the fist coming straight towards him face, and a firm punch rendered him unconscious.
-
Aragorn woke up in the small living area, or cave, that the elves were left in. Someone was calling his name. He tried to open his eyes, but they seemed perfectly happy to stay closed, and he wouldn't mind going back into the darkness anyways, it was far more inviting.
But the voice was persistent, so Aragorn opened his eyes and blinked groggily at the figure, assessing the his injures.
A throbbing in his head was easily deciphered as a headache, and the sharp pain in his side was no doubt the result of a broken rib. Other than that he found nothing serious, his body ached in general.
"L'glas?" he slurred, trying to form the words.
"Oh thank the Valar!" someone said, far, far to loudly.
"Stop yelling 'Ro, I can hear…" he said slowly, trying to focus on the dark haired figure.
The dark haired figure exchanged glances with the other dark haired figure.
"Estel," the one he had assumed was Elrohir said, "I am Elladan, and this is Lamaeneth. Elrohir is not here," the now identified elf said gently. Aragorn blinked blearily up.
"Escape?" he murmured.
"Has been put off till the morrow so you can rest. Healer's orders," Lamaeneth said softly.
"Work?" one syllable words were much easer to say, and they seemed to get what he meant.
"Not today, he's given us all a day off, for some odd reason," Legolas said, gently touching Aragorn's forehead.
Aragorn frowned as the last few minutes of his consciousness blurred, he couldn't quite remember if…
"Legolas…did he…were you…?" he couldn't say it. He turned eyes up at the Prince, praying the answer would be no.
"No Estel," the elf said, grasping the ranger's hand, "it was all a figment of your imagination," he finished kindly.
"Good…." The human murmured, sinking back into sleep. "Good."
It was only when he was unable to talk anymore that he realized Elladan had forgiven him.
-
The next moirning dawned fair and bright, not that the elves in the cave could see it. But they all felt it. The night before, while Aragorn recovered, weapons had been secretly distributed to all those willing to fight, the magjority of the elves were.
It was peaceful, to know that they would receive liberty or death. It made them feel as though they had a purpose again, and elves with a purpose were dangerus to behold.
Out of curiosity Glorfindel had asked them how they had been captured, the methods varied but most stories were the same, they had trusted humans and had been drugged.
Now that he was awake and had heard the truth, Aragorn wondered if any of the elves would rust men again. A friedship could be wrecked because of the folly of one stupid man. That knowledge angered Aragorn, and it was all he could do to wait until the agreed time.
When all the overseer's had entered the room Aragorn gripped is sword tightly. Some of the elves had received bows, and they, like Legolas, were waiting for his command to fire. He waited until they were all facing the elves.
"Fire!" he cried.
The elven archers struck their marks, taking out four overseers immediately. But things were abut to go very will for the escapees.
Someone, elf or man, had tipped off Godead, and the lord of the palace had been prepared.
Out of the doors came fifty men, men that no one, not even Aragorn, has known Godead had.
They newcomers were armed to the teeth, among them were archers and swords men. It was the archers Aragorn feared. He and Legolas charged together, fighting back to back with a skill years of practice had perfected. The moved with one another, each able to fend his ground and keep the other safe.
Aragorn's eyes sought his brothers in the lull of the men, it was true the elves out numbered the overseers, and many of the elves were warriors. And therin lied the problem. The elves he had at his command were archers. Yes, there were the random swordsmen, and they all had some skill with a sword. But the elves were trained and purebread archers, and only ten were given bows.
But the elves had the determination needed. And they weaved skillfully through the masses.
Lamaeneth and Morwen could bee seen, they fought differently, and Lamaeneth had more grace then any of the male elves combined. Aragorn was surprised to see her fight, he had never thought her a warrior. But she apparently had had some training before going out with the warriors to patrol.
His thoughts could not be occupied for long, however, for his attention was once again required by a burl man who for some reason seemed determined to kill him.
Aragorn shrugged, this man had enslaved elves, he felt no pity. Hot anger coursed through him as he saw Cairdor and Caireth duck out a back way.
They would die.
He realized and instant to late that Legolas had been forced to move away, and pain erupted through his shoulder as a dagger was stabbed in and drawn out. He spun around to see the man behind him fall on Lamaeneth's blade. She smiled at him. A cackle at their left cause them both to spin around so that they were standing next to eachother, a bow sang out.
Lamaeneth crumpled to the ground.
Um…well, I hope you erm…liked it –ducks behind desk- well…I'm off to Boston, I think I should be safely out of town when you read this…
Oh yes, trivia. Um…what war is the title of this chapter from?
Non-American's here's YOUR question: This daughter of an elven king married a mortal.
Think CAREFULLY folks. That's a trick question.
the part ---inbetweenthese--- was contributed by AiH!