Part 2
Aragorn concentrated all of his strength in suppressing a cry. No, these foul beasts would never see his pain. Yesterday the Mouth of Sauron ordered them to kill him. Or was it the day before? Or three days ago? He didn't know how much time had passed since the orcs started torturing him. There was no way to know day from night in the dungeons. And days and nights blended into a long swirl of darkness. Darkness and pain. He was desperately trying to find light in his heart, light that came to him in the form of a face, the most beautiful face that has ever existed. Long black hair and eyes, in which he could see all the stars in the skies. He was never going to see her again. And that made the darkness even more oppressive.
He still remembered when the Mouth of Sauron visited him on the first day. The dark creature was very pleased with himself. His words still echoed in Aragorn's mind.
"Enjoying yourself, dirty rat? It seems my Master was truly afraid of you although I can't get why. He thought that you are the only one who could oppose him. Now my Lord has no dangerous enemies, and all this is thanks to my skillful negotiations," the dark man smiled. Of course, he was going to be rewarded. "I don't know why you thought that the little spy is more valuable than you, but you made a mistake." Laughing, he left the room and left Aragorn to the orcs. He knew that they were going to kill him slowly, and didn't really care. Let them have their fun.
You made a mistake. Did he? He asked himself this question every time an orc's whip hit his back. Why did he choose to surrender? His first though was that he did it for Frodo. The hobbit had already suffered enough; moreover, he was used to a peaceful life and pain was new to him and harder to bear. The small being had already done more than anyone expected he would be capable of. Also, he chose to surrender because he believed that he was giving Frodo a chance to destroy the Ring and save Middle-earth. But there was another reason. He did it for her. Arwen wouldn't survive this evil much longer. It had to be destroyed. Then she could sail safely to Valinor.
But would she? Doubts started haunting his mind. Raised by elves, Estel knew very well that there are only two ways a Firstborn could die – if they are killed, or if they choose to give up to grief. He tried to persuade himself that Arwen wouldn't die if he didn't return, but somehow he couldn't believe this completely. He couldn't take any chances. He had to escape.
Aragorn was standing on his knees on the floor, his hands bound to an iron handle above his head. His body trembled slightly under the whips, fists, and boots of the orcs, but he tried to hide his weakness. He was fighting to remain conscious. One of the orcs took his hair and jerked his head backwards. "You refuse to scream, stinky scum, but that won't last long. I promise you." Smiling, he took a long thin blade that resembled a big needle and forced it into the man's shoulder. Aragorn gasped in pain and surprise, but he knew that could not be all the orc meant. He prepared himself for whatever pain that might follow.
The orc took a lit torch and neared the fire to the other end of the needle. The blade soon became extremely hot. Aragorn felt the flesh around his shoulder was burning. The pain was unbearable. This had to end now and he had to escape. And now he knew how. A plan quickly formed in his mind. The orc's cruelty had given him an escape path.
With a sigh he collapsed on the floor, still partially hanging on his bounded hands. "Fun is over, boys," one of the orcs announced. "Leave him now; we don't want to kill him just yet. Tomorrow he will scream." All orcs went out of the room, taking all torches and leaving the chamber in complete darkness. There were plenty of prisoners in the dungeons they could torture, and they headed to them. However, they regretted leaving this one; he was much more fun. So hard to break. A challenge to their skills. They were pretty sure that wouldn't last long…
Legolas was quickly climbing up the stairs Frodo and Sam had climbed before. This path had to be much easier for him – he was not burdened by the Ring, he had enough food and water, he was not that exhausted and was physically stronger than the two hobbits. However, there was something else oppressing him. His elfish heart was more sensitive to the evil coming from Mordor. With every step he took, it was pressing on him more and more. But he couldn't stop. The Elf tried to push away the despair that was threatening to get hold of his heart. He had no idea where exactly this path was going to lead him and didn't how he was going to find Aragorn once he got into Mordor. But even if he could find him, would he be able to help him escape? Everything seemed so easy when he first heard that there was another passage into Mordor, but now reality came back to him, and he realized that the success of his mission was not sure at all. There is always hope, he repeated to himself. But was this hope or just self-deception? For a moment he wondered why he hadn't told Mithrandir what he intends. He knew very well that the wizard would not like the idea, would think that it is hopeless. Wasn't the Maia wiser than him?
Legolas realized that these thoughts were not helping him and pushed them aside. This was the only way to save Aragorn and he had to try. He had to. He wondered what has happened to his friend after he was taken to Mordor. Surely, the Dark Lord desired his death. Every second lost decreased the chances of arriving on time. And even if he arrived on time, he knew that every second meant more pain for the human. The thought of Estel tortured by orcs made Legolas rush up the stairs. The stairways were going for miles and miles, bending and climbing. He finally stopped when he reached a cave-like tunnel. Caves were never meant for elves. They were full of darkness, and were hiding the stars, the trees, the birds, to which the fair folk were so strongly connected. But this was not just a cave. Legolas could sense some ancient evil lying there. For the creature that lived in this cave was indeed a descendant of Ungoliant, who had once helped Melkor in his evil doings ages ago. But he couldn't stop now. Taking a deep breath, Legolas ventured into Shelob's lair.
Elladan was gazing at the Black Gate when he heard Gimli's footsteps behind him.
"Have you seen the Elf?"
"The Elf, Master Dwarf?" Elladan's voice was dry. "In case you haven't noticed, there are three of us." But Elladan knew very well who Gimli was talking about. This was the second day he hadn't seen Legolas, and had an idea where the prince might be.
"There were three of you. Legolas has disappeared." The dwarf was obviously irritated. He suspected the dark-haired elf knew where his friend might be.
"So the dwarf also hasn't seen him," Elladan murmured to himself. His suspicions were confirmed.
"Do you know where he is?" Gimli asked impatiently.
"I don't know, but I suppose he's doing what I should have done," the elf stated mysteriously.
Gimli frowned. He should have learned long ago that to ask an elf something and expect to get a clear answer was fruitless. And these strange creatures dared claiming that Gandalf spoke in riddles… Suddenly Gimli followed Elladan's gaze and understanding came to him.
"You mean … he is in there?"
"I don't know more than you do, Master Dwarf. But I don't see where else he could be."
"But why didn't he take me with him? How did he get in? I need to go!"
Elladan caught Gimli's arm and sighed heavily. The last thing he wanted to deal with right now was this impossibly annoying dwarf. He had to take the small being to Gandalf.
The wizard stared helplessly at the Black Gate. The Dark Lord was not going to send his forces, and the orcs were still between Frodo and Orodruin. There was nothing he could do, and he knew it.
"Gandalf, we must leave," Éomer suggested. "There is nothing we could do here. Sauron is not coming out; he is not afraid of us anymore. We have a lot of soldiers with us. They could be more useful at other places. They could protect our people from the orc raids in the towns and villages."
Gandalf seemed to consider the idea.
"Protect the people?" Elrohir countered. "For how long? Sooner or later all lands will fall into darkness."
"I can't stay here while my people are constantly tormented." Éomer said. "I have to do everything I can to help them."
"You're right," the elf sighted. "Go if you must. But I'm staying. I can't go home while Estel is dying in there."
Gandalf wanted to remind him that it was not the time to think with the heart, but when he saw the sorrow in the fair being's eyes, he simply said, "Elrohir, he doesn't know that you are here. He can't feel your presence."
"Maybe he can't. But that's the least I can do."
For a moment Gandalf was deep in though. "We are not leaving," he finally announced. "What you say sounds wise, Éomer, but something tells me that we must stay."
Suddenly, a dwarf rushed into the tent and nearly knocked the wizard down. Gandalf raised an eyebrow in question. Elladan entered after Gimli and explained, "Legolas has disappeared and we believe that he has gone into Mordor."
Gandalf nodded slightly, his own suspicions confirmed. "If this true, he has undertaken an impossible task. Now we can only hope although I don't see any chance of success."
"What do you mean we can only hope?" the dwarf was incredulous. "Legolas did the right thing; we all should have done the same! It's not too late!"
The wizard sighed. He knew it was not an easy task to argue with a dwarf. Years ago he had to deal with thirteen of them at the same time, in addition to a quite clever hobbit, which didn't make matters any better. "There is no point in us all going into Mordor, Gimli, unless we want to get killed. There is nothing we can do."
Gimli had no reason to doubt the Maia, so far Gandalf had never misled them, but he could not find peace. Fear for his friends and irritation that he is missing the adventure did not let him rest.
"But… what do you propose then? Just stay here and wait?!"
"Exactly. And my heart tells me this is the right thing to do."
Aragorn rose cautiously. He had managed to fool the orcs that he was unconscious, and now was time to act. First, he had to cut his bonds. Fortunately, his tormentors had left the burning blade in his shoulder. He had to get hold of it somehow. He turned his head to the side and managed to hold it with his teeth. The metal was still hot and burned his lips, but he didn't stop. As he pulled, a burning sting went over his entire body. It took a long time to pull the blade out, he had to stop and grab the blade again many times. Finally, it came out and slowly he managed to cut his bonds. It was hard to hold the hot blade in his teeth and work in complete darkness, and in the process he inflicted his wrists many wounds, but there was no time to pay attention to that. Aragorn slowly found the door in the darkness. Naturally, it was locked. He could open it with a needle, a useful skill he had learned during his long years as a ranger, after all this was not the first time he was taken captive, but he was afraid that the blade would be too big. Finally, after his hands were properly burned, the door opened.
Aragorn entered a corridor, slightly lit by the torches on the walls. Any light was welcome after the darkness in the torture room. He limped down the passage as fast as he could. He could probably find some hiding place, where he could recover his strength to some extend and decide what to do next. But for now he didn't have a plan. He just had to get as far away as possible.
The darkness was total and impenetrable. It ensnarled the body and crept into the mind. Legolas haven't seen such darkness since the mines of Moria, but here it felt somewhat denser. There at least the air was moving, and here it was stagnant, heavy and foul. But most disturbing of all was the feeling of evil that screamed to his elven senses. Moving cautiously, Legolas felt long tentacles brushing against his head and hands. The elf froze. He guessed immediately what they were. Mirkwood had fallen into darkness years ago and the prince often had to deal with the huge spiders that inhabited the woods. They were no ordinary spiders. They could think and plan. But, most of all, they were not just natural wild animals who were only trying to survive. They were something else. Pure evil.
The cobwebs were much thicker than the ones in Mirkwood, and the elf wondered what kind of creature had created them. But he realized he didn't have time to think about that, as he felt two great clusters of faceted eyes fixed on him. Fear crept through his heart as Legolas realized that he couldn't fight this creature alone, especially in the darkness. The elf ran to the tunnel's opening as fast as he could.
When Legolas reached the opening, he found in dismay that it was blocked. There was some soft, but unyielding substance that closed the passage. The prince quickly realized that these were spider webs, but they were thicker and stronger than anything he had seen before. He took out his elven knives and started working frantically on clearing the way. But Shelob was too close. Legolas didn't have time to cut the webs. As he couldn't work faster, he realized that he needed to slow her down.
Shelob was a creature of evil and was created from darkness itself. Legolas knew that there was only one way to fight darkness – with light. Without stopping his work, he started singing softly with his clear elven voice: "A Elbereth Gilthoniel, silivren penna mìriel, o menel aglar elenath..." The elf felt that some faint light of Varda's bright stars had entered, if not in the tunnel, at least in his heart. Shelob seemed to hesitate for a moment. But the darkness inside her was too potent. She quickly overcame the shock of the elven song and sprang at her pray.
Legolas felt a sharp claw tear his flesh under his knee. But the delay he had gained was enough; the elf cut the last cobweb and ran out of the tunnel. Legolas glanced back and froze in horror. The creature was bigger than any spider he had seen. With surprise, the elf noted that one of the great eyes was dark. The spider has been attacked before, and, of course, the eyes were a weak spot. But before Legolas could react, Shelob was upon him.
The elf found himself below the spider's gruesome belly. The stench was intolerable. Legolas tried to force one of his knives into the beast, but the numerous dark layers covering the evil body were impenetrable. For no Man or Elf possessed the strength to wound her. Suddenly Legolas noticed something unusual. There was a wound on the spider's belly, which was not yet fully healed. The elf thrust his blade into the wound.
Sticky green fluid flowed out of the wound. Shelob retreated with a cry of pain. The elf was immediately on his feet, running up the path. A question couldn't get out of his mind. The spider was wounded before. What kind of creature was able to inflict such a wound? What great warrior had the strength to make suck a blow?
The prince had no way of knowing that the blade that had pierced Shelob before was nothing else but Sting, and the "great warrior" was in fact Samwise Gamgee, hobbit of the Shire. Using the spider's own weight, the brave gardener had done something that men greater than him were unable to do.
The elf ran up until the path turned left and suddenly went down. He stopped for a second and took another step. Legolas had entered Mordor.
"Trying to escape, are we, filthy rat?" the orc laughed at Aragorn, after knocking him down with a vicious blow at the back.
"If I am filthy, I wonder how I should describe you," the man managed to whisper weakly but confidently. "Maybe 'pile of trash'?"
His words were rewarded by a kick which forced the air out of his lungs.
"I'll teach you how to speak to me!" the orc threatened. "I'll teach you how escape is rewarded here! Do you know what this is?" the orc took out a metal club with spikes pointed at many angles coming from one end. "You will learn soon. Oh, yes, you will learn how to talk to your masters." He added with a grin.
Aragorn pushed aside the wave of fear that was trying to get hold of him. "I must warn you that I'm a slow learner," he smiled boldly. This statement earned him another kick.
The orc grabbed his throat and dragged him to one of the torture rooms. Dozens of orcs and southern men came, each carrying a device, similar to the first orc's club. The door was slammed behind them.
Each strike sent a burning pain through his entire body. He could fight no longer. Unconsciousness now seemed to be the only way out, an escape to a world of peace and no pain. He gave up. "Arwen, forgive me, meleth-nîn," he whispered before darkness finally claimed him.
Legolas was relieved when he finally reached the dungeons unnoticed. He spent the last few hours crawling, hiding, waiting, and crawling again. Now when he seemed so near his final goal, he was suddenly at a loss. In the complicated labyrinth of dark corridors there were hundreds of torture cells, anguished screams coming from most of them. He didn't know if Aragorn was here. He listened intently to the screams, but couldn't recognize any of them. He half hoped, half feared to hear a familiar voice. He knew very well that his friend would not scream, unless in utter pain. Suddenly, his sharp elven hearing picked up a soft whisper. Words, muttered half in Sindarin. Arwen, forgive me, my love. There was no doubt who had spoken them.
Legolas quickly went to the door from which he had heard the whisper. It was a solid wooden door with no windows on it. His first impulse was to enter and shoot at every orc he sees inside, but forced himself to stop. He didn't know how many they were and if it wouldn't be too dark to shoot. Most of all, he wasn't sure what Estel's situation was. If he suddenly attacked the orcs and the men inside, they might kill his friend. He stopped by the door and listened carefully. Finally, he heard a hoarse voice.
"Leave him alone. He doesn't feel anything anymore." He doesn't feel anything anymore? What did that mean? Was he dead or just unconscious? The uncertainty was tearing the elf's heart apart.
"He might be pretending as last time. He might try to escape again." Escape? What had happened?
"I don't think he needs to pretend this time, and, as for escaping, I don't think he's able to make a single step." O, Estel! I'm sorry I didn't come earlier…
"If we are over here, I'll go and check how the other prisoners are doing," a different voice announced.
Legolas ran to a nearby alcove in the wall and hid there. An idea was quickly forming in his mind. But he didn't know if the one coming out was an orc or a man. He hoped he was a man.
One of the southern men went out of the cell and took a turn left. Suddenly, someone grabbed him from behind and pulled him. The man was dead before he had time to react. Legolas promptly pressed a piece of cloth to the slit neck; he didn't want any blood around, neither on the floor, nor on the clothes. Especially on the clothes. He quickly took the man's clothes off and put them on. He hid his face and hair under a dark helm. After he put on the black gloves, his eyes were the only visible part of his body. None of the Haradrim men had blue eyes, but Legolas hoped that no one would notice his eye color in the dim light.
Legolas hid the body and his pack of supplies in the alcove. He didn't know what to do with his bow and quiver, and, finally, he reluctantly left them close to the door, so that he could retrieve them in case he needed them.
When the elf entered the torture cell, no one paid him any particular attention; men and orcs were coming in and going out all the time. He glanced in concern at the prone body on the floor. One of the orcs gave it a heavy kick. Before Legolas realized what he was doing, he rushed forward and pulled the creature back. All eyes stared at him. The prince quickly took control of himself again and stated in a low voice, "You'll kill him if you kick him again. I want to have fun tomorrow as well." Several orcs nodded approvingly. One of them yawned.
"So we are over for tonight. I'll go and help with the prisoner in cell fourteen. I think he also needed some persuasion." The evil creature grinned.
The door shut. In less than a minute it was thrown open again. The same orc rushed inside.
"Look what I found!" he laid an elven bow and quiver on the table. Legolas cursed himself for not hiding them with the body. Everyone gathered around to take a look.
One of the orcs that accompanied Sauron's messenger recognized the weapon, "They belong to one of the filthy elves!"
"So the elf is here?" another one questioned.
"Maybe he has come to free our prisoner. But soon he will join him," the orc grinned. "I have to go and tell master."
Before he could leave the room, Aragorn stirred slightly. The orc turned back, sensing that more fun is coming and not willing to miss it. "Are we awake, scum?" He grabbed Estel's head and jerked it up. "I'm afraid soon you'll wish you've never awaken." He landed his club on the man's back.
Aragorn gasped at the sudden hurt, but looked at his tormentor's eyes and said boldly, "If being awake means having to watch your face, it's surely better never to wake up. No nightmare could be uglier than this."
The orc hit his head hard on the floor. Aragorn raised it slowly and was about to reply, when something caught his sight. On the table he saw a weapon he has seen before. Many times. But what was it doing here?
"Le…Legolas?"
"Ah, you are looking at the bow of your elven friend? I think he came here only because he wanted to help you. Too bad he is dead."
Aragorn stared at the orc in disbelief. The elf couldn't have died for him. It was not a thought he could bear.
Legolas couldn't stand this any more; it was so cruel. He had to do something.
"Yes, he would have been a nice toy to play with. It's a pity we killed him."
"You lie, coward! You could never have killed him! He is too smart for you!" Aragorn's voice was trembling despite his attempts to keep it steady.
One of the southern men walked to the table and took the bow, playing with it.
"Don't you dare touch this bow!" the man shouted. "Don't you dare put your dirty hands on it!" The thought that this filthy creature was playing with his friend's favorite weapon enraged him.
The man took the quiver and put it on his back. Seeing the effect this had on their prisoner, the orcs cheered loudly. They saw that the psychological torments had a much stronger effect on Aragorn than the physical ones. It seemed that this Haradrim man had found his weak spot, something the orcs have been unable to do for so long. It was somewhat shaming that a man proved to be a better tormentor than them, but right now they just wanted to enjoy the anguish this tactic seemed to be inflicting.
The man mockingly pointed an arrow at Aragorn. All orcs and other men were laughing loudly.
"Kill me, filthy creature! Kill me! I bet you cannot even shoot with that bow!"
Aragorn was wrong.
The tip of the arrow quickly moved slightly to the right, and before anyone could comprehend what was going on, it pierced an orc's heart. Arrows were flying from the bow with tremendous speed, and each one was deadly. Orcs and men were falling down before they could reach their weapons.
Only one orc managed to creep unnoticed behind the archer, holding his knife.
"Legolas!" Aragorn shouted in warning. He had no doubt any more who the mysterious man was.
The elf turned, but it was too late. The orc was too close for a shot, and Legolas didn't have his elven blades with him. The orc knocked him down, trying to cut his throat.
Aragorn rose slightly and started crawling towards the combat. Obviously, the orc had forgotten all about him or didn't believe he could rise again. On his way he picked a knife. With a quick move, he trusted it into the orc's back and collapsed over the body in exhaustion.
"Aragorn?" The elf carefully tipped his head up and gazed into the pain-filled eyes.
"Legolas, that was the most insane thing I have seen! How could you come to Mordor? What were you thinking?"
"And I supposed this is the way humans say 'Thank you for saving my life'," the elf observed. "I've always thought that Men are a weird race, and I should be prepared for everything, but you always find a way to surprise me, my friend." Legolas smiled and slightly shook his head.
"I'm sorry mellon-nîn," overwhelmed by pain and relief, Aragorn rested his head on his friend's shoulder. "I am most grateful. It's just that … when I saw your bow I was so afraid. I thought I've lost you."
"Really? You thought they killed me?" the elf smiled slightly. "How could they, I am too smart for them." The man smiled and Legolas added softly, "I was also afraid I might lose you."
"You won't get rid of me so easy, Elf! Don't you know how stubborn I am?"
"I know, my friend. But what have they done to you?" he looked at Aragorn's injuries in dismay. As he felt the man shake slightly at the memory of his tortures, he quickly added, "Whatever they have done, it's over. They'll never hurt you again. It's over. Estel, do you hear me?" Legolas asked worriedly as he got no response. "It's over."
"Over? And how do you suppose we are going to get out of here?" Aragorn smiled grimly, as he noted the confused look on his friend's face. "You never thought about this, did you? That's what you should expect from Elves – they have millennia ahead of them, but never have a plan how to survive the next few hours," he teased.
"That's totally not true," Legolas protested. "I was so intent on finding you that I didn't think about the way back. Blame me for that if you wish," he pretended to be offended, but was actually happy that his friend had enough strength to jest.
"But how did you get here anyway?"
"Through a passage. But I wouldn't go back there. I hardly came in, I wouldn't risk going out that way, especially with you injured. The only other way to get out is the Black Gate, and it will never open."
"Legolas, please, let's get out of this room. I don't want to stay here anymore."
"Not before I see to your wounds."
"I'm fine."
"Of course you are," the elf smiled. "Wait here."
He went to the alcove to retrieve his supplies. He had taken some bandages and healing herbs that might be useful. When he entered the cell, Aragorn had tried to rise, and the elf had to rush forward and catch him before he collapsed.
"You cannot walk on your own, stubborn human. Here, let me help you."
"I must walk on my own. Otherwise we'll get caught."
"We'll get caught even if you walk on your own, especially if you walk like that." The elf didn't seem to follow.
"No. No, we won't. I'll walk on my own and we will get out through the Black Gate. You seem to be forgetting something, mellon-nîn. You forget that I am not an elf. And do you know what this means?" Aragorn smiled widely despite his burned lips and winked to his friend. "It means that I have a plan."
TBC
Chapter 3 is on its way :) Thanks for the patience. And many, many thanks to all my reviewers!
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