Summary: Legolas and Aragorn ride ahead to Mirkwood to celebrate an
occasion but never make it.
Disclaimer: I don't own them for their own good.
A/N: Written for a challenge issued on Mellon Chronicles.
Chapter 2
Legolas stood as still as he could, trying to not think of the pain radiating across his back. A couple of times it seemed Aragorn had gotten nervous and instead had brought the whip down on his legs. It was a relief, in a sense, as it gave his back a few seconds of reprieve.
Aragorn raised the whip over and over, each time staring at the Easterlings to see if they were satisfied enough to let Legolas down. Each lash he delivered brought another tear rolling down his face. He did not care that they jeered at him for his weakness. All Aragorn cared about was ending Legolas' pain as soon as possible.
"We shall not stop until the elf screams and begs for mercy!" they shouted.
Aragorn's anger grew tenfold, if that were possible. "How can he scream if he is but an inch from unconsciousness!"
Bortian approached Aragorn, grabbing him by the neck. "You will do as we say, or your friend shall suffer. I will hear no more comments against us from the son of Elrond."
Aragorn could not still his tongue just yet. "What is it that you have against my father, or his father for that matter?"
Bortian's eyes seemed to turn a shade darker, making the pupils charcoal black. "I sought help at your father's home. My brother lay dying in my arms, and yet he would not allow me into his halls. King Thranduil told him of how we had taken a few of his guards, many years before, and your father, being ever loyal to Thranduil, denied me and my brother sanctuary. He claimed he could not endanger his son with the likes of me. Well, I have grown, and my brother died. I shall take their sons as they took my brother's life."
Aragorn gulped, remembering the time he had seen the man enter Imladris. He and Legolas had been ready to go and greet the guests when he saw his father raise his sword. It had frightened Aragorn, scaring him and Legolas enough to keep them inside the stables until long after the men had gone. Later, when he questioned his father about it, Elrond had told him that the man was bad, killing elves for pleasure.
"You seek out elves and hunt them for pleasure, giving them no weapons. My father has told me of you, have no doubt in your mind. You have no honor, no valor to speak of."
Bortian raised his own sword then, and Aragorn stood ready for the killing blow. He looked to Legolas, tied to the tree, his back raw and bleeding. This, he thought with horror, would be his last sight, and he waited and welcomed death.
Bortian never struck Aragorn but enjoyed the wince as he waited for it. "Come, we have had our fun for the night. Release the elf and place guards on them."
Aragorn ran to Legolas, slapping away the hands of the Easterlings. He did not wish them to cause his friend anymore pain. He and Legolas were led to a tent and thrown in roughly. Aragorn went to work, tearing strips of his tunic to wrap around the deepest wounds. He knew that Bortian would have been much worse on Legolas, but it did not lessen his shame at what he had done.
"Legolas?" he whispered. "Can you ever forgive me for what I have done?"
Legolas groaned, trying to lift himself off the ground. "Aye, it was not your fault, Estel."
Aragorn continued wrapping Legolas' wounds with strips of his tunic, trying to be gentle, but ge was not gentle enough to keep Legolas from crying out from time to time. "If your father thought poorly of me before, he will surely banish me from Mirkwood forever now."
Legolas caught Aragorn's hand as he tried to wipe the trickle of blood from his face. "My father does not hate you, Aragorn. He knows that I consider you my brother and for him that is enough. He may not welcome you as if you were an elf, but he respects that you have never strayed in your loyalty to me."
Aragorn considered his words, as he continued to wrap the wounds. He wished for a bit of water, and as if someone read his mind, a waterskin was thrown into the tent. He thanked Valar and began washing the blood from Legolas' back. The leather of the whip had torn complete pieces of flesh off. It would take time for the wounds to heal, even with Legolas' elven blood. "I have done all that I can, Legolas."
"Hannon le, Estel. I am tired. I am going to try to get some rest."
Aragorn watched as Legolas closed his eyes and his anxiety increased. He knew his friend was in severe pain to shut his eyes as humans do in sleep. "Do not worry, Legolas, Ada and the twins are not far behind. They will see that we escape these men." With that Aragorn sat staring out of the tent. He wanted to make sure no one entered to harm Legolas again, and that is how Legolas found him as the first rays of sunlight trickled through the flap of the tent.
"Estel, have you not slept?"
"Nay, I kept watch over you. Are you any better?"
Legolas glared at Aragorn. "I am doing better, but my back still pains me. You should not have stayed awake all night. I would have been fine."
Aragorn then burst into nervous laughter. "Legolas, Ada says whenever you say fine that indeed you are the exact opposite. He said if ever you were to say it that I was to put you in bed and not let you out for two days."
"Lord Elrond is simply overprotective, just like my own father. I will be fine, Estel."
Aragorn raised his eyebrows, immulating his father. "I will be the judge of that." He washed Legolas' wounds again with what little water they had left and rewrapped them in the cloth shreds.
Meanwhile back in Imladris ...
"Ada! Someone is coming through the gates, a beggar, it seems," Elladan shouted from the stables.
Elrond had just packed the horse with everything they would need for their trip, having been detained tending to last minute things and papers.
"We cannot dally any longer, Elladan. Your brother is waiting, and I feel something is not quite right."
Elrond was about to get atop his horse when he recognized the man coming towards him. He did not wait, nor did he take long to pull his sword from its sheath. While Elladan and Elrohir looked on it horror, he cleaved the man's head from his shoulders.
"Ada! What have you done!" Elrohir screamed, running towards him.
"I have killed our enemy that dared to enter Imladris. This man is one of the many who took part in the slaying of Thranduil's guards. He was cruel, vindictive, and left their bodies to rot in the noonday sun. He deserved no mercy and I have showed him none."
But Ada, what does this mean? Why has he come here, as a beggar, knowing he would be slain upon sight?"
Elrond jumped atop his horse with ease. "I fear the worst. Come, your brother is in danger, along with Legolas. I can feel it."
In Mirkwood ...
Thranduil sat in the gardens overlooking Mirkwood. He felt at ease. His birthday day was coming up and that usually meant the cooks would prepare his favorite dishes. How he enjoyed the caramel cake they made. He was lost in thoughts of the meal when he noticed a beggar coming through the gates.
The guards at the entrance caught up to the man and grabbed both arms, and yet the man did nothing to deter their actions. Thranduil thought this quite odd and got up to go see what had brought this beggar human into his realm.
He walked and a sense of foreboding seemed to come over him; he shook it off. It wasn't until the man raised his head, smiling at Thranduil, that the elven King knew who he was. His death was swift, Thranduil grabbing him by the neck and snapping it.
"King Thranduil?" the guard questioned.
Thranduil stood, his eyes fixed on the man who now laid at his feet. Why had he come? Why had he not tried to fight? "This man is one of those who slayed our breathern. His presence here speaks of his obvious insanity."
The guard touched Thranduil on the arm. "Prince Legolas. He has not yet come back from Imladris."
"We should not worry just yet. The trip is long, though should Legolas not have returned by the end of the week, I shall go myself and find my son."
King Thranduil returned to the palace, sitting down in his study. Something was not right about the events of the day. The man he slayed would never have walked openly to his death. Yes, should Legolas not return, he would go himself to find his son.