Hello, there! I really don't want to write this, because I'm falling out of the habit! But I have to! Also reviews help.
Disclaimer: Obviously, not mine. If I was Tolkien, than I'd be dead. If I'm dead, I can't be writing this, can I?
Chapter 10Legolas, Berthilion and Galian crept stealthily to the castle. At that moment all were wishing that they had never been born. They were pretty sure if their family, other friends and teachers could see them now, all of them would faint straight away.
They walked for what seemed like millenia. Galian thought he had never walked so much in his life. After about two hours of walking, and many battles with hundreds of small orc patrols, they arrived at the bushes near the black gate of Sauron's castle.
"Ready to do this?" Legolas whispered, eyeing the orcs guarding the gate.
"Yes," replied Berthilion.
"No," answered Galian, shooting dark looks at the orcs.
"Good," said Legolas. He motioned to them, and stood up; crouching so the orcs wouldn't notice that he was far taller than a normal orc should be. Galian and Berthilion followed his example as well, with scowls on their face.
The orcs, not quite used to seeing their comrades burst out of the bushes, glared suspiciously at them. They walked out as if this was the most normal thing in the world, and strolled down to the front gate. The orc there eyed them suspiciously as well his beady yellow eyes darting back and forth between the strangers.
"Numbers," the orc growled in Common Speech, knowing that they're strangers. Legolas looked at the others helplessly. He didn't study orcs. He didn't know about their numbers. Berthilion, on the other hand, did study orcs, and knew all about the so-called numbers. The numbers actually meant ranks, and the higher the number, the higher the rank. So he pushed past and scowled at the orc.
"Number 600," Berthilion growled, hoping to sound convincing. "He is number 601, and he's number 599." Berthilion reported, pointing to each of the others in turn.
"Business," the orc growled, though slightly less suspiciously.
"We need to report a top-secret message," replied Berthilion, his nerves finally settling down.
The orc glared at them, and barked out something in his language, and finally the door opened.
"Finally!" grumbled Galian under his breath, as they walked through the large black gates.
Once they were inside, they could even feel a whoosh of wind when and their jaws dropped. The inside of the room was black and red. It's floor was even paved in gold.
"How in the bloody hell did Sauron get rich like this?" whispered Galian, amazed by the richness of the giant room.
"How in the bloody hell are we going to find Thelion?" whispered Legolas, alarmed by the castle. The friends stared out at the three staircases, wondering which one to take.
"The right?"
"The middle?"
"The left?"
Legolas stood in what seemed like meditation, Galian looked across the staircases as though he was watching a game of catch the ball, and Berthilion stared at each staircase with fierce concentration.
Finally Legolas cracked up.
"Galian, use your bloody magic!" he silently exploded, whispering all the words.
"I need to find the right spell! Or do you want Thelion floating down here?"
Legolas had no reply for that. They stood for about fice minutes when Galian spoke up, smiling.
"I've got it!' he whisper-shouted, then murmured a spell. He then smiled, and pointed at the left staircase.
"Are you sure?" muttered Berthilion.
"Yes, I'm sure."
So Legolas, Galian and Berthilion went up the left staircase…
Thranduil was having an emotional explosion. He felt sad and angry that his oldest son was a traitor, worried for all three of his children, unhappy that Legolas, Galian and Berthilion went to Mordor without telling him, and guilty that he had not stopped Thelion becoming evil, kidnapping Laeriel, and Legolas leaving.
Elrond was trying, in vain, to comfort his friend. But Thranduil refused to be comforted. He paced around, mumbling incoherently, and Elrond's words fell on deaf ears.
"Thranduil,' Elrond said, mentally shuffling all of the things Thranduil enjoyed and could be distracted by.
"What?" asked Thranduil asked tonelessly.
"Let's go have a drink."
"Fine."
Thranduil and Elrond walked through the door, both wearing miserable expressions on their faces. They went to the main kitchen to get a drink. A servant appeared out of nowhere; cautiously (having heard about the disappearance of the King's children and about Thranduil's famous temper) he asked:
"What would you like to have, my lords?"
"Six bottles of your strongest ale." Answered Elrond, noting that Thranduil's mood rose up a little.
The servant hurried, and got out six giant bottles. Elrond went on to the visitor's table (which originally was used when Legolas was little, because Legolas always seemed to sneak into the kitchen) and sat down, motioning Thranduil to follow him. Thranduil obliged. Elrond opened two bottles, and placed one in front of the elven king and the other he held in his hand thinking about what he was about to do. Then he said quickly, deciding that this was the only way Thranduil would ever get some rest:
"We're having a drinking contest. Whoever falls asleep first loses. Three, two, one, go."
Thelion advanced, holding a torch, his green eyes gleaming evilly.
"What's this?" he asked, holding the torch right in front of Laeriel's face, chuckling delightedly when she shrank away.
"A torch," she said causally. Thelion couldn't have known that her greatest fear was fire, could he?
"Right," he said, even more pleased with his plan then before. "Fire is a wondrous thing. I've studied it since I was eleven, and found out that if it meets water it goes out, if it meets wood, the wood burns. I've tried applying fire to many things, leaves, bugs, snakes and so on. But I've never tried it on elves. Let's see what happens, I've always wanted to find out."
He inched the torch closer to her. She already felt its heat, even though it was a hand's length apart.
"No," she whispered, as the torch came closer it's burning heat inches from her flesh.
Hello there! Here's another chapter done. Oh, and before I forget, I will not be doing the torture scene. I repeat, I will not be doing the torture scene. It's too tiring, and I don't want to do it. OK? Good.
Felarof: Good advice! I'll try to take it. And you are my most loyal reviewer/Hugs Author/. Here's your cyber medal; /hands author a gold medal that says 'The Most Loyal Reviewer'/. Thank you for all your wonderful reviews (also for the cupcakes. Yum Yum!) !
Elven Warrior Princess: Glad you didn't abandon me. Thanks for your thoughts! But don't worry; I'll never delete this story, so people will review more! Yay reviews! And thank you for editing this chapter!
Elven Hope: Thank you for your reviews! Lots of reviews mean lots of publicity! And of course you could be my beta. I've never had a beta before.
Bye, and Review!
TobiasHawk13