Shadows Chapter 10: 10 Fading Light, a lord of the rings fanfic

Disclaimer: Legolas, and Lord of the Rings, are JRR Tolkein's, not mine.

A/N: University, writer's block, projects, life… I know it's been a long time since my last update. One word – Sorry.

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10. Fading Light

He watched, well hidden, as Esguon paced angrily up and down the courtyard, cursing under his breath. Nellie had told him not to provoke Esguon, but wasn't his fault, as he'd told her indignantly, trying to fight beck his tears. Esguon just seemed to like hurting him. "Then run," she'd replied simply. "Every time you see him coming, just drop everything and hide."

He had done so today, as soon as he'd heard him coming, even though he knew he'd be late with his chores. But no punishment was as bad as any administered by Esguon. The memory of his last beating was still with him; he had ached for weeks. Legolas didn't like hiding away at first, ada would have told him to…he blocked any thought about his father. He didn't care what his father would have said. Legolas just wanted to keep away from harm.

"Come out you bloody elf. Come out!" Esguon hissed. Legolas remained still, scarcely breathing. The other servants were not averse to aiming a good kick or slap at him, but the Esguon took a vicious pleasure in seeing him writhing and crying under his blows. No one would help. Only Nellie knew; only Nellie really cared.

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"Stop… please, please stop, it hurts." Legolas sobbed as he tried to wriggle free. He back was near torn to shreds, the tender flesh mutilated by the cruel blows. Esguon had little talents, but he knew how to deliver pain. He administered blow after blow, delighting in the child's pleas for mercy. He only stopped when the elfling fainted.

"Weakling" muttered Esguon as he fasted his belt back on, aiming a kick in the ribs to the small figure huddled on the floor for good measure. He heard a sudden gasp and a crash from behind him. He spun around and spotted the village girl his father had picked up somewhere or other.

"You girl, clean up this mess," he ordered. The girl looked up from the sorry sight. It was impossible to mistake the look of sheer hatred in her eyes. "You bastard," she said under her breath. Esguon stiffened. How dare the little whore speak to him like that? He grabbed her arm and drew her towards him, making her look at him. "When I give orders, you obey at once," he hissed menacingly. With that, he slapped her across the face, making her gasp, this time in pain. Her nose started to bleed, but she made to move to wipe the blood away.

"No one will be told about this," he told her, as he let her go. She looked briefly towards the elfing and then back towards him, eyes narrowed. He would remember the little bitch Esguon thought as he gave her a twisted smile. "You have a little sister don't you?" he asked her softly. A look – was it fear?-flitted suddenly over her face, and she looked at him as though seeing him for the first time. The girl nodded slowly, taking in the implication of what he had just said.

"Then this shall be our little secret, unless you want someone else to get hurt," he told her, and left.

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Esguon was always careful to hit the elf where bruises could be covered, avoiding awkward questions. His father had taken an odd fancy to the filthy creature and would often have it up in his rooms to sing strange-sounding elvish songs when his sickness took over and he was unable to sleep. Lately, he had even starting to talk about training it to become a warrior. Esguon spat in disgust. His father had become a soft-hearted old fool. The elf would probably turn on them as soon as they put a knife in its hand.

Esguon decided to leave, giving one last look round the empty courtyard. He longed to get his hands upon the elf. Every time Esguon caught sight of the little rat, he longed to make it cry in pain, beg for his mercy, make it pay for the shame he had endured. He was Agaskill's son! He was supposed to be respected, revered even, but instead he had been humiliated by little more than a child. He would never be allowed to forget the ignominy of that hunt by his father; the bastard delighted in bringing it up whenever he could.

The screams of pain elicited from his victims – the whores in taverns, children and animals alike - made him feel powerful and strong. Beating his father's pet in his father's own territory gave him a devilish delight, making him feel that the old man could not control every aspect of his life. Esguon was a bully, and enjoyed hurting smaller, weaker creatures which could not turn back on him. Yet something more fuelled his hatred towards the elf, intensifying his beatings whenever he could get his hands upon him.

He had not forgiven Legolas for making him lose his face in front of his father. And every time, he was reminded that he was too afraid of his father to wring the elfling's neck.

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Life was not perfect, but Nellie was no longer childish enough to believe it would ever be so. She had learned to make do with what she had and be grateful for it. Agaskill had not been unkind to them; they didn't go hungry often, they had shelter and they were together. Sybil was in good health and Legolas had managed to avoid Esguon for well over a month. Life, if not perfect, was at least tranquil. Nellie looked over to where Legolas was braiding Sybil's hair.

"Are you sure elves take longer to grow? Maybe you're just a shrimp!" Nellie teased.

"Am not!" replied Legolas huffily. Nellie laughed. She had been worried about his apparent tardiness of growth before the elfing had patiently explained to her that elves took far longer to mature than men. Both she and Sybil had grown the past two years, but Legolas had changed little; if anything, he had become thinner and paler. At least, she thought thankfully, he no longer spent evening after evening staring out of the window, waiting and praying to the stars. Nellie had become fond of the elf-child; he was the brother she had never had. He was part of her family.

She turned her attention to Sybil. "What do you think darling?" she asked her little sister, "Is Legolas a shrimp?" Sybil smiled and held out her arms to Legolas. "Leglas, up, up!" Legolas lifted her up and hugged her. She laughed happily as she took a strand of his hair and started crooning to herself.

"Hmm… not much of an ally that," Nellie said. "Betraying me for a cuddle. Come to bed now, both of you." Legolas grinned at Nellie as he gently put Sybil onto the makeshift mattress the three of them shared. He lay down near her and she cuddled between him and her sister, breathing a small sigh of contentment.

Nellie drew up the covers around them. "Best sleep now, it's up early tomorrow." Legolas nodded. He was tired after a long day working, but nothing really mattered much as long as he was with Nellie and Sybil.

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She awoke to the sound of men shouting from the great hall, the sound of people running to and fro and horses whinnying. It was the sound of Agaskill's men going into battle, a sound she heard often and without concern. Yet something was wrong. It was still dark, far to dark for the men to be getting ready to leave, and the drums used to signal the warriors' departure remained silent.

Nellie sat up quickly. Sybil shifted slightly, still lost in childish dreams. Her eyes fell on the small figure at the window. "Legolas?" she whispered.

The elfling turned his head towards her. She could not make out his face, for it was to dark to see. "Do you hear them?" he asked, in a voice strangely devoid of emotion.

Nellie felt a sudden feeling of dread. "What is happening?" Legolas did not answer, so she walked softly towards him, trying not to wake Sybil. She could not make out the cries of the men at the hall. The feeling of dread intensified as she realised that Legolas was trembling. She grasped his shoulder in agitation. "Tell me!" she hissed, hoping that it was nothing, wishing that…

"Agaskill is dead," chanted Legolas voice shaking slightly. "Long live the new Chieftain…" He lifted his eyes to meet Nellie's. They both knew what this meant. They were the new Chieftain's property, and at his mercy.

Esguon? Mercy?

Nellie leant heavily on the wall, Legolas's words reverberating over and over again in her mind.

Agaskill is dead, long live the new Chieftain...

She lifted her trembling hands to cover her ears, trying desperately to block the sound of impeding doom.

Yay! More doom and gloom to follow :0) Comments anyone? Thanks to all readers and all previous reviewers.