---anything in here--- is in elvish. I did not have time to translate the Elvish so if it is within the ---anything in here--- that means its in Elvish.
Chapter 5
Thranduil,
Prince Ithilden, though he has been wounded, is under my care. I have received your message regarding the ally and the council. The princes took the pass across the mountains and were assaulted by Orcs. Please come as soon as possible... Legolas has been captured.
Thranduil abruptly stood, knocking over a table. Though it clattered to the floor loudly, he failed to notice for the thunder pounding in his ears. The piece of parchment drifted to the floor as the King of Mirkwood released his grip on the message and left the room.
iIi
Time seemed to pass slowly there... in that unholy darkness.
Soon, all too soon, day slowly faded into night and life faded into dreams, the hazy line between reality and nightmares completely blurred. Pain was the only constant here in his new life. Pain and darkness. Minutes drifted into hours and hours into days. Did time even matter here? What little sleep he got was interrupted during the odd intervals that he was dragged from his cell, yes, his cell, to be tortured.
Legolas held no more illusions about being rescued from this prison anymore. From his prison. From his life; from his death; from pain, from evil.
Erú, deliver us.
Footsteps.
Or was is the ever pounding drum of fear in his mind? Was he dreaming?
The footsteps drew closer and the light, the hazy light somewhere at the reach of his eyesight, finally reached his mind. Then, a door slammed in the distance.
There really is no longer the necessity for dramatics, he thought absently, almost apathetically, as though his life was not seeping from every pore on his body, as though the darkness did not drain the life from him, the light from him, as easily as though he were not alive at all.
The footsteps stopped at his cell and he involuntarily shuddered. He heard the soft laughter above him and pushed himself against the farthest corner of his cell.
"Do you fear the darkness?"
Yes.
IIi
Though the trip from Mirkwood to Imladris generally took 2 to 3 weeks, when the King rode into Imladris 3 weeks after the missive was sent, no one was really very surprised. For while it may have taken the envoy 2 weeks to arrive in Mirkwood, there was great doubt that Thranduil had slept in the duration of his trip.
Elrond stood waiting in the courtyard as Thranduil got off of his steed and allowed it to be led off for rest and to be cleaned. Though he exuded weariness, nothing from his voice betrayed any pain.
Formalities of the Elves were discarded in such circumstances as Elrond addressed the issue.
"Thranduil. You received my missive then."
It was not a question.
"How long has it been?"
Elrond sighed wearily. "At least… almost 4 weeks."
Thranduil cast his gaze aside, to stare out the open window. "I will leave immediately. Where is Ithil?"
"I am here." The voice was soft as it entered the conversation. Thranduil turned to where his eldest son stood in the doorway. He strode toward Ithil before embracing him, his eyes glittering strangely. Ithil returned the embrace as tears fell swiftly down his cheek. "Forgive me father… Legolas is gone… he is gone…" The prince collapsed against his father's shoulder as he shook with grief. At last, the younger elf calmed down and stepped away.
"Worry not, Ithil. I am going to retrieve your brother… he will be fine." The elven king's voice shook slightly and he repeated himself, more firmly. "He will be fine."
Elrond made a jerky movement, as though to touch Thranduil, but then though better of it. "Will you leave so urgently? I fear you have had no sleep since you left?"
Thranduil clenched his jaw. "If I must sleep, I will do so on the horse. I leave now. Will you lend your aid, Elrond?"
"Naturally," stated the lord. "I will gather some elves and we shall leave immediately. Would that Mithrandir were here…"
"May I go?" inquired Ithil, softly.
"No!" said Thranduil, more sharply than he had intended. "No, my son. If anything should happen, Valar forbid, you must be safe here. We will return. We will return with your brother, safe."
Ithil inclined his head. "Yes, father."
"Come, let us prepare," said Elrond. Thranduil and Elrond left the room as Ithil stood leaning against the window. He cast his gaze across the horizon, fruitlessly seeking his brother. At last he crumpled to the ground.
"Be safe, Legolas… so that you may forgive me if you return… when you return."
Ithil angrily brushed a tear off of his cheek.
iIi
Saruman laughed again as Legolas pushed himself against the wall.
"Very well, since the darkness seems unwilling to release its hold upon you, highness, perhaps now you will answer the questions. If you do not, you may find yourself in my capable hands… and I may find the answer to my own questions regarding the limits of elves." Then, using nearly all of the power he possessed, Saruman intoned, "Come forward!"
Legolas whimpered slightly, hardly able to restrain himself from the vocal magic that Saruman was producing.
Angered that Legolas continued to disobey him, Saruman cast his staff across the stone floor. A shockwave of energy slammed Legolas against the wall and held him there. The door to his prison flew open and Saruman stepped inside.
"I do not have time for these silly games of power, Elf! Now tell me where he is!" he demanded. "If you will not break to the darkness, perhaps you will find my power a little more persuasive!"
"I have told you before, Saruman," Legolas spat venomously, "I will never tell anything to a monster like you!"
"Fool!" hissed Saruman, his face beside Legolas' own. "You are my slave now and you will act as such! I have not even asked you any other questions today regarding your Light, and yet you cannot even answer this simple question: where is Ithil and what is the prophecy regarding him?"
Legolas attempted to twist his head away as he answered. "Why do you wish to know, my master, if you are so powerful? Can you not make it appear before you? Does it so frighten you that perhaps the prophecy regards your own downfall, perhaps among little people and traitors—of whom I am sure you would not dare contend with lest you dirty your white robes? Where has your pride led you but to dirt and blood? What honor belongs to a pig who deigns to call himself a king?"
Saruman snarled and backhanded Legolas across his face. His hand came back dripping with blood as Legolas crumpled to the ground. The wizard turned and left the cell, snapping something at an Orc who stood beside the cell.
The Orc snapped something in the Black Tongue to some others beside him as Saruman left. Then, two Orcs entered the cell and lifted Legolas before dragging him from the dark prison. Legolas submitted, despair overcoming his mind. He knew he would pay for the hasty words that had come from his mouth, he knew he would pay with more of his own blood… his blood that continually replenished itself to the anger of Legolas. The only rescue he knew he would get from this darkness would be a higher power of darkness: death. Fight fire with fire… and darkness with darkness, for he knew that no light could ever conquer the darkness that he was now faced with—the same darkness that had quenched his own light.
The prince was torn from his thoughts as the Orcs threw him onto the floor of a room. A new room it seems, as the slab of rock he had become quite familiar with was very much absent, along with the being of darkness that he had come to dread, and to dream of. The very thought of the creature made him nauseous, of the ways the creature had violated him, just by entering his dreams, let alone touching him, cutting him… peeling his very skin from his body… He shuddered violently, suppressing the urge to vomit.
The door abruptly slammed behind him.
A sudden crack interrupted his dread, followed quickly by intense, overwhelming pain. He attempted to scream, but no sound came out—his very vocal box seemed to be numbed with the surprise pain. This was not the same cruel torture of body and mind, the kind of torture he had been faced with to break him, to mentally and completely break his mind. Nay, kind of torture served one purpose for Legolas: pain. He had only once been attacked with whips while under the power of Saruman, and that was upon arrival for the torture, though physically horribly, could not compare with the kind of torture and violation that the creature had inflicted upon him. In fact, pain was the only constant that Legolas had, beside the darkness that existed within and without him.
He almost found it rather ironic that he could almost find comfort in pain.
The whip came down again and his entire body jerked from the impact. He felt the pain overcome his mind even as he felt his own warm blood trickle across his back to fall in a puddle underneath him.
The Orcs jeered and taunted as Legolas crumpled to the ground. They hauled him up and manacled his wrists against the wall, so that he could not attack them or attempt to run.
The whip came down again. Was that only 3 times? More blood joined the puddle. Out of the corner of his blurry vision, he saw the flash of glittering glass shards in the whip as it came down again.
Four times and the pain was only increasing. A cold, dirty feeling seemed to run through his veins now, unlike the first time and a sickening feeling of realization hit Legolas: the sole purpose of the whips was not pain… they were poisoned. It seemed his retribution would not be found solely in his blood, but in his corpse.
The whip came down again. And again. And again.
Slowly Legolas felt himself begin to lose consciousness. The puddle on the floor seemed to grow larger and larger until it consumed his vision. And slowly blood red faded to black.
The Orcs snarled angrily and unshackled him. Then, one of the Orcs dragged him to a large trough filled with icy water.
The sudden movement and icy water shocked Legolas into consciousness. He opened his eyes and attempted to suck in air as he found himself completely disoriented. He began to choke beneath the water, slowly asphyxiating as his own tears mingled with the water. So this is how I will die… He began to thrash, his own primal instincts kicking in. The Orcs quickly jerked him up and threw the choking elf to the floor.
"You better not have drowned him, Vushnak," snapped an Orc.
"Don't worry, Ognak, Elves don't die easily!"
Legolas lay on the floor, convulsing as his lungs attempted to reject the water, his own elven immunities the only reason he remained alive.
Ognak said, sneering at Legolas, "You know Vushnak, we really should help him..."
"I think you're right, Ognak," said Vushnak, grinning maliciously as he kicked Legolas across his abdomen. "Is that better, elf?"
Legolas said nothing; he lay on the floor still choking on his own blood.
end flashback
Legolas took a deep breath before continuing and Aragorn looked at him concerned.
"Legolas, nar le mae?"
"Avo iosto, Aragorn, im triw, ---but are the little ones? They are not used to the way of war; to the words 'no mercy'. I do not want to scare them and I do not want anyone to give me pity or feel sorry for me. I am here, aren't I? I survived and that is the past.---" Legolas said as he glanced towards Boromir and Gimli. They were both looking at them as though they wished they too spoke Elvish at that moment—even the Dwarf, for all he didn't like Elves.
"---No, they are not, Legolas, but I have a feeling that by the time this War is over, whether we win it or not, they will be used to war no matter now or then.---"
"Im isto," Legolas said looking over at the four Halflings, who were all staring at him as though he were something fascinating to look at. "---But I still think it might be a little harsh for them, they are already looking at me as though I am a ghost, though I will continue since I have already started---"
Gandalf stared at the elf, knowing that he would continue his story, but knowing that the elf could not possibly stand much more of the past.
flashback
The door abruptly swung open as Saruman entered. The wizard glanced at an Orc, obviously expecting a report.
"My Lord, he still did not make a sound."
The wizard made an incomprehensible snarl and ordered the Orcs to leave. As the door at last shut, he stepped forward on Legolas.
"You think honor and dignity are worth so much, elf! Are they really worth dying for? Can your courage last forever? We shall see, fool!"
Abruptly Saruman disappeared and flames erupted out of nowhere.
Legolas stared at the flames for a moment before half crawling, half dragging himself to the door. He collapsed briefly as he was feeling the effects the poison from the whips. The poison seemed to have dulled his mind and his reaction senses. As he arrived, he attempted to open the door in vain… it would not budge. Terror rose in his mind as he felt the room grow hotter, as he saw the flames grow higher. He would burn in the fire… he would die in the fire. He was going to die, he was going to burn…
Now the room was filled with smoke and an intensifying heat. The very air seemed to be boiling around him. Soon there would not be any oxygen left for him to breathe. The air was contaminated with smoke and consumed by the flames as Legolas struggled to breathe. He began to choke again, barely having recovered from nearly drowning. He felt his throat ache with the pain of first the water and now with the smoke. With every draw of breath, he felt his own throat explode with pain.
All that consumed his mind was the heat. The pain and the intensifying heat that surrounded him. Abruptly, the smell of burning flesh reached his nostrils and he knew that it belonged to him, that there could not possibly be anyone else and at last the pain of his own burning flesh reached his senses. He screamed… how could he have possibly thought that the hot rod that they had put on him days ago could compare?
Then, just as he thought that his mind would at last be consumed by the flames as his body was, the fire disappeared and Saruman stood leering above him.
Then… darkness; sweet, consistent, beautiful, painless darkness.
iIi
"So do you have a plan in mind?" asked Elrond, softly breaking into the thoughts of his friend.
"I… no. I fear I cannot even concentrate for the terror in my heart," admitted Thranduil, his eyes desperately searching for hope within Elrond's.
"I had thought as much," Elrond said gently.
Thranduil's eyes abruptly locked onto Elrond's gaze, his eyes piercing and saddened. "Elrond, imagine Elladan and Elrohir… imagine Arwen…" Thranduil broke off and when he spoke again, his voice was soft, as though he feared it might betray him. "Imagine what they do to Elves there…"
Elrond cast his gaze down, suddenly understanding the full implications of Legolas' capture and it's effect upon Thranduil. "Forgive me, my friend. I understand now."
Thranduil said nothing.
"We must still create a plan of action, we cannot simply storm the place—where the place is."
"I am aware of that, but that's just it… we do not even know where he is!" snapped Thranduil angrily.
"We will find it though; we have the best trackers with us—not including ourselves," Elrond said reassuringly—though whether for Thranduil or himself, he did not know.
"But will we find my son? Will he be strong enough… will he have the strength? He has been there for so long..." Thranduil trailed off.
"Do not worry yourself, Thranduil, Legolas has come to Rivendell many times and I have watched him, he is a strong Elf. Just as strong, if not stronger than Elladan and Elrohir who are many a year his elder. He is strong."
"Let us pick up the pace."
iIi
When Legolas awoke, it was to complete, overwhelming pain. He moaned as he tried to move, but found that his limbs would not longer even obey the slightest command. Was he paralyzed? The very thought froze his mind with fear before he realized that he would die anyway, and as Saruman said, dignity would do him to favors here.
Silence seemed to be the only higher power here than darkness, and with the footsteps, both disappeared.
iIi
"Thranduil! We think we have found something!"
The King of Mirkwood hurried over to where Elrond was calling him. Elrond held up a piece of cloth that looked like Legolas' garments and said, "We have also found a clearer trail than before. They probably got careless because they were so close to wherever they were taking him. That means we must be near! We must be wary now for anything even the slightest bit out of the ordinary."
If Thranduil noticed the irony that Elrond now said to be wary for clues of Legolas, he mentioned nothing. He suddenly a heard a whistle from up ahead. It was one of the trackers.
They had found a cave and the footprints led into it.
iIi
"My lord," said one of the Orcs
"What is it now Oknag? If it is just news about the Prince not speaking, then that is no news at all!" snapped Saruman as the Orc interrupted his concentration on connecting with his master.
"No, my lord; We have spotted a group of Elves traveling this way and they have found the entrance."
This also seemed to be no news to Saruman; "Good, I was wondering when they would finally come. Oknag, tell the Orcs guarding the entrance to let them to through. Make it seem as though they are not even present."
"Yes, My lord," said Oknag before leaving the room with the rest of the Orcs.
After they had left Saruman laughed to himself, a cold sound that was not entirely different from the sound that Legolas awoke to.
iIi
They slowly walked deeper into the cave with Thranduil at the lead. It was growing darker and darker with every step they took. The only light given were the torches on the walls.
They continued walking steadily for about an hour before they reached the end of the tunnel, which appeared to be a dead end.
"Ai! Did we come here for nothing?" cried Thranduil, fearing that his son was fading if not already dead.
"Search the walls," commanded Elrond. Immediately Thranduil and the other Elves started searching. Finally, after what seemed like hours, they found a concealed door. They slowly pushed it open to see what awaited them inside.
iIi
As the footsteps grew closer, so did the laughing. Legolas closed his eyes briefly, in a strange attempt to block out the sound.
"So it seems that elves do not wish to die!" said Saruman, still laughing. "Or is it that your body will simply not comply? Yes, indeed, I have found elves rather tiresome myself when trying to kill them as they seem, quite simply, unable to die. Fear not, my prince, I think salvation shall come soon enough. Perhaps your father will even deal out death himself for you, if he is as merciful as I do hear."
Legolas slowly lifted his head so that his gaze met Saruman's. Slightly unnerved, the wizard continued on. "I give you one more chance, Legolas son of Thranduil. Surrender the information I ask for and I shall surrender you. Forsake your honor and dignity for they have no use here. Where is Ithil? What does the prophecy regard? How did it come to your attention of my changed alliances? Who…"
"Fool," said Legolas, softly, mocking Saruman's constant use of the word. "I will give you nothing because dignity is all I have left."
Saruman's eyes narrowed to slits.
"So be it."
iIi
Thranduil looked into the unusually bright room compared to the tunnel they had been in and his eyes adjusted to the lighting. After he did, the first thing he saw was Saruman, who appeared to have just walked into the room. Blood stained the once white robes. The wizard moved to sit down in the midst of the many Orcs.
Thranduil took a step forward, his voice as cold as ice, "Where is my son?"
"Now, now, you are just like your selfish, arrogant son. The first thing you both do is demand and neither of you are in the position to do that," said Saruman silkily, his magic caressing his every word.
"Release my son," spoke Thranduil, completely immune to wizard's magic in his experience and age.
"Well..." Saruman said as though thinking, "No!"
"You have chosen wrong, wizard."
"Perhaps you would care to make a deal, my king. I will give you Legolas, but in return, I demand your eldest."
"What is this madness?" said Thranduil, completely taken aback. "I would not…"
"Perhaps you need a little convincing," Saruman said. He turned to an Orc standing next to him. "Go retrieve our… guest."
"Yes, my lord." The Orc hurried out with two others. After many long excruciating minutes, the door opened and the Orcs had returned, dragging a barely recognizable elf by the arms and leaving a trail of blood. They then threw him to the ground and stepped back.
The Elf briefly stirred, but did nothing otherwise.
Thranduil stared in complete terror that the tortured elf might possibly be his son. He resisted the urge to fall to the floor and take his son in his arms… His voice came out shaky and tired as he spoke.
"Laegolas?"
The elf stirred again and attempted to turn over as unbidden tears fell from Thranduil's eyes.
Valar, no…