Lynx: Being that it's Sunday and I'm incredibly bored, I have decided to start chapter 9. This is going to be a special chapter so prepare yourself for all the action.
Legolas: Do I do anything hot?
Lynx: Um… when has anything you do not been hot?
Legolas: Good point.
Laure: Don't inflate his head any further.
Legolas: Are you saying I have a large head?
Haldir: Haha…
Laure: Technically speaking.
Legolas: … If you weren't a woman I would have shot you.
Laure: Bring it on, pixie man.
Haldir: Whoot! Go Laure!
Legolas: I hate you, Haldir…
Lynx: XD That's not what you said to him in a fic I just read…
Legolas/Haldir: (repulsed) O GOD! NEVER WITH HIM!
Lynx: XD Anyway, thanks for all your reviews, I'd reply but for some reason won't let me. (Le sigh) Anyway read, enjoy, and then REVIEW!
No sounds were heard except for the tramping of horseshoes against parched grass and the clanking of armoury on itself.
The soldiers were silent as they marched across the plane along the eastern tail of the Running River.
Valandil let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding; the doubt hanging above his people's heads was thicker than ice. His dark sea green eyes flickered over to his father who rode to the right of him upon his fine black horse. He could see only a small factor of his father's face, for Amros rode a few steps ahead of him. He could plainly see the anxiety and concern lining the lord's battle-weary face, though.
Valandil was wearing a plain set of armour, having nothing else to resort to taking into consideration that Laure had taken his original set. The weapon he wielded was nothing but an unimpressive blade with a basic design, though it would do well enough to cut down his opposition.
His large ear twitched slightly at the sound of a sigh behind him. He looked briefly over his shoulder to see one of the warriors staring woefully at the sky as he walked. The warrior's white ears drooped and his tail hung limply at his leg, hitting he back of his calves.
"Do not fret." Valandil said to him softly, giving him a soft smile as the warrior brought his attention to the prince, "All will be well, keep faith."
The warrior offered him a half-hearted smile of thanks before dropping his gaze to his feet.
Valandil looked ahead of him again, brushing a few mahogany locks from of his face. The morale of his army was low, the word of the forthcoming execution to their beloved princess taking great tolls on their minds. It was inevitable… the outcome of this battle, but they would not cower like deer during a lightning storm. No… they would battle the elves none-the-less, regain what little honour they had left. It was up to Fate to do the rest, whether she smiled down upon their race or not was yet to be seen…
Legolas hardly paid attention to his father as Thranduil proceeded to reinstate his strategies for the battle. He fiddled subconsciously with a strand of his mare's mane as he watched a large hawk fly over the army of his father.
How unmoral he deemed this battle, Thranduil was going about it wrong in every way possible.
Laure was righteous; her views were the only ones worthy of contemplation. She had been just to aspire to put an end to the war and all its unnecessary losses. The right path was to form a truce, an alliance, to disregard all thoughts of revenge or conquering, to bring peace amongst both races.
Ironic that the one with the most honourable opinions was the first to be shot down… That was how cruel fate was sometimes… how was that fair? Did the gods above wish for such bloodshed?
Legolas made a silent oath to himself… if he could he would help Laure in her cause. The war was growing old to him, and it no longer had any significance in his life, nor did it have any beneficial results to anyone else's life except maybe his father's…
"Legolas!" A voice hissed his name, grasping his attention away from his thoughts. Cobalt eyes met hard steel-grey eyes and immediately there was flame, "Have you been listening to anything I have said?"
"Yes father." Legolas replied dully, sending him a deadpan look.
"Do you recall what your role in this battle is?" Thranduil narrowed his eyes sternly, clenching a fist in frustration.
"Yes I do father."
"Refresh my memory."
"I am to lead the left flank that way," Legolas pointed a nimble finger south; he only remembered this because his father had recounted his fantasy so many times before; "Box them in."
"Good, you have been paying attention." Thranduil replied steely.
Legolas tuned out once more, maybe catching a few words in between thoughts of his own.
This was to be a long day…
Laure stared solemnly at the dull dungeon floor, subconsciously gripping the iron bar in which she had her forehead rested against. She had not moved from her spot for a few hours, her mind blank with incomprehension.
… How had she been so foolish as to commit such an act towards her own country…?
She did not look up when footsteps approached her cell; she did not acknowledge the call that accompanied it.
"Did you not hear me?" An angry voice came through her thoughts, "Tauren, I have your evening's meal."
Laure brought her gaze up; staring impassively at the elven sentinel that stood above her at the other side of the bars. He held a small dish over her head, tempting her like she was some sort of wild animal. Laure hardly cared about his intentions but she had not known the taste of food for quite a while. She reached her hand up to take it, but the elf crudely snapped it out of her reach.
"You know no manners." He grinned down at her; he obviously was not a very sharp one…
Laure slowly brought herself to her feet as if it was a tedious job. Her back ached from the many long hours and her legs were numb from sitting in such an odd position.
The elf held it out to her again, his intention obvious: to rip it away from her again the moment she put out her hand to take it. She could see it in his dark eyes…
"What ever is the matter?" The elf waved it in her face, the smell nearly intoxicating her senses.
Laure's thin eyebrows furrowed in growing irritation towards the elf's folly… He did not have a moment to register when she suddenly shot both her arms through the bars and grasped the front of his tunic. He dropped the dish in surprise, letting out a cry of alarm. The call was cut off when she summoned all her might and yanked him towards the bars. His head collided with the hard object with a dull crack and he went limp.
"Idiot…" Laure rolled her eyes as she dropped him to the ground, "Did your captain never teach you to stay out of arm's reach from the captive's cell? Or are you just naturally that stupid…?" Kneeling down, she searched him for the dungeon keys. She made a noise of triumph when her fingers came into contact with the cool bronze. She unhooked them from the guard's belt before casting a longing glance at the food and broken dish. Shrugging, she grabbed the bread and stuffed it into her shirt before standing up with the key ready.
Fumbling with the lock, it took her many long moments until she heard the click. With a smug look, she pushed the door of connected bars open and stepped through. Immediately afterwards, she seized her and her brother's belongings from the rack and headed towards the stairs to the dungeon's exit.
She let out a loud shriek of alarm when a pair of hands suddenly snatched her from behind, causing her to drop all her and her brother's possessions. Once again she felt the coolness of iron bars against her back as a strong arm locked itself around her neck.
"Did you forget something…?" A mellifluous voice whispered in her ear.
Caresir reached idly for the ring of keys still in her hand, but she held it out of his reach.
"Let go." Laure hissed through her clenched teeth, but she could practically hear him smirk at her demand.
"After the company and information I bestowed you with, you have no thoughts to free me as well?" Caresir asked with a mocking tone, his outstretched fingers nearly at their destination. "Tsk, tsk, no kindness at all… what a selfish little vixen…"
"You are a murderer." Laure snarled, secretly spying a flaming torch perched on the wall very near to her. "Why would I help you?" She stretched out her arm and strained to grasp the blackened flank of wood. The very ends of her fingertips touched it, but it was not enough.
"Well then I shall just free myself." Caresir replied stonily, gritting his teeth as his arm flailed to grab the keys from her.
Laure dropped the hand that wielded the keys and finally seized the torch firmly in her left hand.
"Only in your dreams!" Laure stuck the torch angrily into his extended arm, the smell of burnt flesh immediately assaulting her senses.
Caresir let out a roar of agony, falling back from the front of his cell; "You bitch!"
Laure scrambled to pick up Valandil's armour and her pack. "If anything, I'm a female fox, not a female dog." Stuffing the keys into the pack before fleeing from the room, she left the torch burning alone on the stone floor.
Caresir cradled the blackened and bleeding flesh of his arm, his eyes sparking angrily, "I will kill you, girl! I will drive a blade through your heart!"
Laure halted just before the door to the outside corridor, steadying her breathing.
If she were to escape, she would have to do it with great caution. The elves were great in the art of hunting and could hear something amiss from a great distance. If she so much as breathed wrong, it would be back to captivity for her. She took Valandil's armour and stuffed it into her pack. She could not afford to have it clanking around noisily.
Slinging her pack over her shoulder, she deftly pushed the door open. Peeking her head out, she looked down the corridor both ways before stepping out.
Luck had showered down upon her and left the corridor empty, except for the many shadows that were flickering from open torches.
She took a moment to remember which way they had dragged her in. From there she could recall the direction of the gates to the Elven-king's halls. She would not be daft and risk going near the mighty entrance, no; she would simply scale the wall surrounding the palace and take flight. Unfortunately she would not be able to retrieve Lhunor from the stables; the area there was too heavily crowded. She would have to set off on foot…
Laure frowned slightly; she could not take the direct path home, for Thranduil's army now marched upon that same way. She would have to take a detour through the dark forest of Mirkwood, follow the Enchanted River until it took her through the small collection of mountains. Through there she would find and follow the river once again until it became one with the Running River that stretched wide across the planes of Edhel-Dagnir. That she would follow for a long time until it took her to the Sea of Rhûn. Another fifty miles would find her deep in the forest, where she would find the dwelling of Elvirin.
Quietly, she began to tiptoe down the corridor, careful to make no noises. After five minutes of twists and turns, she found herself standing before the majestic throne room. From here she would be able to leave quickly into the fading sunlight.
She set off again, her eyes darting all over the place, searching for a sign of movement around her. Luckily she found none. The halls were practically deserted! The royal family was out at war accompanied by most of the elven males. The she-elves probably sat in their cozy, cottage-like homes, sulking and bawling while holding onto their children.
Laure pushed another set of doors open and found the bright orange sun glaring at her through the thicket of trees. The majority of the sky was a dark grey-blue while the horizon shone in hues of orange, yellow, pink, and red.
She hurriedly descended down the small flight of stairs and steered herself down the path under the lengthy trees. With a quick intake of breath, she ducked behind the large trunk of a tree as a young elf strode by, humming some ancient hymn to herself.
Why did the tree not inform the elf of the escapee hiding in its shadows? Maybe this one was a mute… or maybe… She looked up at it in awe, allowing a thankful smile to spread on her lips. Maybe and hopefully the trees believed in her cause. That was a comforting thought…
Laure sped off again through the lush grass, swerving between the ancient trees. Soon she found herself at the large wall that surrounded the entire premises; it was magnificent and almost intimidating in height.
"How am I going to scale that?" Laure muttered to herself. "It is impossible!"
Her eyes widened as the tree beside her suddenly began to shift. In a matter of moments, the tree's branches had clustered more closely together. Laure's face lit up into a smile; she could climb that! She grabbed the limb above her head and proceeded to ascend upwards. In no time, she was able to shimmy across the branch she was on and lower herself onto the metre-wide width of the wall.
"Thank you, my friend." She patted the tree branch then leapt down from the wall. She landed quite hard on her feet, rolling forward once to absorb the fall. Bringing herself to her feet, she noted that shaking in her legs. What a jump that was! Sighing, she pulled from her pack her velvet cloak and fastened it around her shoulders for warmth. Next she put her hand down her shirt and retrieved the almost stale loaf of bread. She was hungry enough to eat a horse... Taking a small bite from the bread, she began to head south. Within a half-hour she would come across the Forest River…
She just had to hope that nothing would cross her path on her way out…
Lynx: Another chapter done, I'm on a writing role! Whoooooot!
Legolas: X3 Who knew I was such a sucker for justice?
Laure: (Le sigh)
Haldir: I still think you're an idiot, regardless of your beliefs towards morality.
Legolas: DX The nerve of you, saying that to a prince!
Haldir: Hey I'm important too, I'm March warden!
Legolas: So? I'm gonna be king when the old man decides to ditch.
Laure: … Next thing you know they'll be wearing leather jackets talking like gangsters…
Lynx: Hee hee hee hee! They would be hot in leather! Review please.