Title: "Revenge"
Author: LegolasLover2003 aka Ashley
Category: Book - "The Lord of the Rings"
Genre: Angst/Adventure
Rating: M
Disclaimer: I do not own any right to "The Lord of the Rings" or "The Hobbit". I just adore them to pieces! Legede, Tileng, Morlan, and Morfind are characters of my own invention. However, you may use them, but please ask permission to do so first.
NOTE: This story takes place after "Savior & Destroyer". You MUST read that story first for this one to make sense. It might also help to read "The Breaking Point" first as well as both "Secrets or A Six Year Old's Wisdom" and the Thranduil-centric story, "I Know It's Wrath".
REVENGE
Lithe fingers grasped at the trunk of the tree, holding on as if the very wind itself would tear him from it and send his injured body careening down the mountainside.
It was increasingly difficult for the blond Elf to remain focused... to keep his keen blue gaze fixed on the woods and the relative safety they could offer. An hour ago, he had stopped feeling the pain in his leg... had stopped feeling the leg at all to be honest, and while Legolas pushed forward, every step was a near stumble until at last he hit the treeline.
It was there that he clung, his mind spinning in and out of conscious thought. He had to warn them... he had to find them... but the trees were so silent.
"Ibestad..." Legolas whispered, pleading with the pine which he clung to. He wanted some word, any word, that he was going the right way... anything at all...
Darkness took him, his fingers cutting upon the bark and bleeding as his lithe form slumped to the ground and he knew no more.
Chapter VII
The Price of Vanity
"U-hiratha hon."
The fist which slammed into the Elvenking's face snapped his head to the side. Blood that illusions could not hide, sprayed upon the stone of the cavern as it left his lips. However, those lips were soon pristine and unmarred once more.
"I thought I told you to speak words we can all understand, hmm?" Tileng asked, his fingers grabbing a fistful of blond hair and jerking it back, forcing the Elf to look up at him. "Magic again, I see. Too bad that. Your vanity won't get you anywhere here." he snarled, releasing him and taking a few steps away.
Thranduil closed his eyes for a brief moment, letting the pain wash over him so he could better handle whatever agony was to come. He was bound, his hands behind him, to a wooden chair. Unbeknownst to him, the blood stains on the ground beneath it belonged to his son. Whatever the human was thinking to do, the Elvenking was ready for it. Breaking him would be no easy task... though he had given the wretch the satisfaction of seeing him on his knees. That act alone made him want to gut the pig where he stood.
"Where to begin..." Tileng was saying, twirling a dagger in his fingers as he looked the Elvenking up and down like a piece of meat. "Pristine skin... though I guess your looks are a bit deceiving, ay?" he chuckled, tossing the knife suddenly.
It sailed right past Thranduil's head, the king never even twitching, to embed itself in the chair post but a hair's breath from his left ear. The Elf never moved... never blinked... he simply stared ahead at his captor.
"Those eyes..." Tileng whispered, walking forward and leaning dangerously close to the blond. "I bet those eyes make lesser men turn in fear... but not me. What harm can you do, hmm? Bound as you are... Do you like this little set up? Your son certainly did. He even left a striking reminder of his presence behind." smirking, the man pulled his knife out of the chair, indicating the floor and the stain upon it.
But Thranduil never looked down. No. He stared straight at the man and nothing else.
"It's a shame really... my buyer wants you in one piece... still... I think I can have a little fun..." he spoke, moving the dagger slowly before the Elvenking's throat, the blade cutting just a tiny line of red as it moved. It was a line that disappeared as quickly as it was cut. "I could break you with pain... but I think that might not work in my favor. Seems, from your injuries, you can take a lot of pain... Though..." and at this he grinned wickedly. "I know one thing that worked quite well on your brat... I wonder..."
Straightening, Tileng moved behind Thranduil, his fingers running through the king's long blond and yet slightly bloody locks.
"Yes... I think this will do nicely."
Blue eyes closed, a moment of humiliating weakness, as Thranduil felt the knife cleave clean through his hair and the golden threads plummet to the stone floor.
There were tears in the white-haired captain's eyes as he knelt beside the fallen form, nestled beneath a mountain pine. His fingers, stained in blood as he worked swiftly to field dress the wound. The sudden cry of a raven startled him and the Elf turned, on his feet in an instant, his sword at the ready.
"Show yourself!" Legede ordered, hearing the trees speak of danger... something was coming...
From behind a massive fallen tree came Morfind, his hands up. "I did not mean to startle you, my lord." the Elf spoke, looking straight at Legede... and then to the fallen prince at his side. "You... found him? How?!" he spoke excitedly, moving toward the blond.
But Legede's blade came between Morfind and his target. "That is none of your concern. You should be back at camp... with that injury."
For a moment, Morfind just blinked, staring at the elder Elf curiously. "I... wanted to help. The king fell because of me, my lord. If I can aid in saving the prince..."
"Go back to the camp, Morfind." Legede reiterated. "I shall not tell you again."
Clouds passed over the low moon, throwing all into shadow. There was a glint in the dark-haired Elf's eyes and suddenly, Morfind was moving, daggers at the ready. Legede's blade swung out wide to off balance the younger Elf, a knife in his other hand to block the second dagger's stab downward.
As the two Elves fought, upon the forest floor... the prince stirred. Blue eyes blinked, taking in the scarce moonlight until shapes made their appearance before his gaze. Legede's white hair shone in the night, but his attacker...
Blinking to clear his head, Legolas pushed himself up slowly, making not a sound. His body hidden behind most of the pine's trunk, the prince very carefully maneuvered himself so he could be of aid to the captain.
But with no weapons...
Legolas rushed Morfind straight on, his arms going around the younger Elf's middle as he tackled the traitor to the ground. They wrestled, the dark-haired Elf kicking his prince's wounds until Legolas had no choice but to roll away.
Yet the battle, thanks to that small distraction, was won and the point of Legede's blade was hovering just above the dip in Morfind's throat.
"Now. Where is my king?" the captain asked, and as if to emphasize the point, he pressed down hard enough to draw blood.
"Well that worked better with the whelp." Tileng said, his fingers letting blond strands fall from them as he walked around the Elvenking. "But at least I got a rise..." he teased, seeing the closed eyes of his captive.
Thranduil swallowed the words that came to him and, instead, expended his emotion into his own illusions. The hair seemed to regrow before Tileng's very eyes.
Infuriated, the human tossed his dagger to the ground and grabbed the Elf by the throat. "Break your spell. Or I will break your people."
This garnered a reaction from the king and Thranduil's eyes opened, glaring at the human. When he did nothing to stop his illusions, the man quickly shouted for one of his guards to bring a prisoner.
Bound hand and foot, an Elf from one of the scouting parties was shoved to his knees before the king.
"Aran nin!" the Elf shouted, confusion written on his fair features. He turned dark eyes upon the humans. "What have you done?!"
Tileng laughed, "Least someone knows how to talk properly." the man flicked his knife towards the prisoner. "Show him." When Thranduil never moved, Tileng gave the order again, only this time, he held his dagger at his new prisoner's throat. "Show him... or watch him die."
The scout frowned, his gaze fixed on the Elvenking, before bowing his head slightly. "Goheno min..."
"U-moe edaved." Thranduil whispered, just before Tileng's blade sliced through the scout's throat.
He kicked the Elf over, letting him struggle to breathe... to find air where there was none... forcing the Elvenking to watch as one of those loyal to him bled out upon the stone. When the light was gone from his eyes and the scout's form still from his struggles, one of the guards dragged the corpse to the other side of the room.
"Now." Tileng spoke, wiping his blade on Thranduil's leggings to remove the blood. "Let us try this again, hmm?"
The mask of the King of Mirkwood however, remained stoic. Even though, inside, Thranduil's heart broke. He could not do what this man wanted... even such a small thing as casting aside his own vanity. If he gave in, Thranduil knew, it would be but a matter of time before Tileng began to strip away every part of him.
Two... three... the entire scouting party of seven Elves lay dead upon the stone. Thranduil's stomach churned, his gaze fixed on their corpses. He had to stop this... somehow... There were no words... no apologies he could give to the families of these innocent lives.
The king swallowed the lump in his throat, fearing his mask would break soon. So many were being slaughtered to save his own dignity... his own hide...
"I... am their king..." Thranduil whispered, the words coming from his lips in the common tongue.
Tileng smirked, glad he finally got the Elf's attention.
Blue eyes fixed upon the man. "What you have done... I will rip the very flesh from your bones. There is no pit in all this world that you can hide where I will not find you. Should my body be broken and my life ended... my spirit will endure if but to see you put to death for your crimes."
The man arched an eyebrow, "So... that is the price of vanity, hmm? I had to slay seven Elves to but get you to speak my words... How many more will I have to slaughter to make you plead and beg for the end, hmm? How much blood need be on your hands, o' great King Thranduil?" Tileng stepped forward, his fingers closing around the blond's throat. "Give me what I desire... and I will stop. Let your illusions fall away, for good, and comply with my orders... or shall we get the second scouting party your captain sent and see how long it takes to bleed them dry as well?"
The man could feel the tension beneath his fingers... could sense the turmoil within the Elvenking even if Thranduil made no visible signs upon his fair features.
"You hesitate..." Tileng whispered, moving his lips right next to the king's ear. "Are you debating it, my lord?" he teased, scoffing at the title. "Those seven lives would have been lost in vain... but it would spare seven more... After this is over, I might even set them free..."
Blue eyes slipped closed, the king unable to look upon the dead any longer... they had died for him and his own stubbornness... they had died for their prince and the ranger he called friend... Such immortal lives should not be wasted.
Swallowing, Thranduil opened his eyes and took a deep breath... as his illusions permanently fell away.
Tileng had won.
TBC...
TRANSLATIONS:
Ibestad... = Please...
U-hiratha hon. = You will not find him.
Aran nin! = My king!
Goheno min... = Forgive us...
U-moe edaved. = There is nothing to forgive.
SINDARIN SENTENCE BREAKDOWNS:
U-hiratha hon. = You will not find him.
U- = Not (makes the following word negative)
Hiratha = You will find (3rd person singular future tense of Hir- (Hiro imperative) conjugated like Gala- (Galo imperative) Hir + atha)
Hon = Him (Ho/He nominative and Hon/Him accusative)
AUTHOR'S NOTES:
- Anything I use for Elvish comes directly from "The Lord of the Rings" by J.R.R. Tolkien or from one of the following sources; David Salo's book "A Gateway to Sindarin" (ISBN #0874808006), the online dictionary "Parf Edhellen", the downloaded dictionary "Dragonflame", Ruth S. Noe;'s book "The Languages of Tolkien's Middle-earth" (ISBN #0395291305), the extended edition trilogy movie dialogues cataloged online by "The Elvish Linguistic Fellowship", and the LOTR complete recordings lyrics cataloged online by "A Magpie's Nest".
- There is no word for "Please" or "Beg" in Sindarin, but I did find the closest thing I could in Neo-Sindarin to represent the same idea. It was a post by Darth Fingon on the website The Lizard Council and the way the word came about was explained thus: While there is nothing even remotely close to 'please' among attested Sindarin words, it does show up in the Qenya Lexicon. The Qenya word is iqista, which would become iquista in standard Quenya. If we reverse-engineer from there and assume the primitive version was ikwista from root a root like IKW, the Old Sindarin would be ipista. This undergoes a lenition and a-affection to make standard Sindarin ibesta- (verb). The verb ibesta- would mean something along the lines of 'to plead/beg/request'. The first person form is ibeston (I beg), or one can use the gerund ibestad roughly in the say way we use English 'please'.
MUSE MOMENTS:
Paris hands Nil a tissue, watching as she blots her eyes then blows her nose. "You wrote it."
"I know, dang it!" she fumes at him, tossing the tissue in the trash can nearby. "I know but... it made me cry..."
Legolas sighs from where he is standing. "Did it make you cry when you did it to me too?"
"Yes..." the woman replies, glancing at him. "Only... I didn't then just write a bunch of Elves dying for your vanity."
"No, you just did that to me."
Nil's eyes go wide and she grabs Paris and hides behind him. "Take the Trojan! Not me!"
A rather furious Thranduil stands there, his fingers clenching and unclenching at his sides. "You will regret this. Mark my words. How... how DARE you..."
Nil winces, "Really it shows how much I care..."
"YOU ARE DERANGED!" Thranduil shouts at her, to which Paris suddenly bolts, locking himself in the bathroom.
Left standing there, Nil looks to the prince. "Legolas... please?"
"Oh you did this alllll on your own, my dear." he grins, waving as he bypasses Thranduil and walks out. "Have fun, ada."
"HELP!"
