The greater world and situations in this story are Tolkien's, but the two main characters seen in this chapter are my own.
This story is not meant to make any money, so please just read it and enjoy. :)
Lastannan led him to the riverside, and, this time, he looked ...
. . .
He was in the tunnels … searching for gems like always. He'd found metal in these walls, but he wouldn't stop to take a hunk of ore back to them. Heat emanated from his veins, his stomach, and his head. Like the fires of the forge he'd escaped, he felt as if he was a flame without light. Time seemed to stretch out behind him convincing him things had never been different. His mouth had always been dry. His skin had always been damp and coated in dust. His surroundings had always been dark. But ... no … There … There was light!
He picked up his pace. A twinge of fear ran through him. What if some keen-eared orc overheard the change in his footsteps and investigated. But no, despite everything else, two things remained true. His footsteps were nearly silent, and it was a long, long way back to his keepers. But could there truly be ..?
Air! He smelled cooler and fresher air! He turned a corner. A draft hit his face. His hair moved. A chill ran over his form. He nearly laughed aloud, but clamped his jaw shut instead. The orcs far behind must not hear. They must not know!
His searching eyes found it! There was a tiny crevice in a wall! He stuck a few fingers through it. A sob ran through him. The light was blocked, but he was reaching out now into moving air, empty space, and freedom ...
. . .
He looked into the water, crouched over it, stared. What he saw was not as bad as he'd feared. After all this time, and even the reactions of some of his fellow elves, he'd feared he'd become near-orc. Red-orange eyes around black pupils, thick, almost scaly skin, and pointed teeth did not look back at him from the river, however. He opened his mouth just to be sure. No, his teeth were still flat. Now he thought back, even with everything else he'd experienced, he couldn't recall anyone filing his teeth sharp. The inside of his mouth almost appeared normal. He closed it and looked again.
There were the scars. They completely changed the first impression of his face. His nose looked exactly the same, though. The touch of heated metal had not reached it, nor his chin. His ears were the most changed. They were melted into mis-shapen remainders of themselves. His cheeks were scarred beyond recognition as well. His eyes should have been the same, and they weren't orange, but they were different.
His finger-tips slashed the water. The waves disturbed the picture, distorted it. He was angered to see his form re-merge in the surface afterward. It hurt, seeing not only the changed face there, but a bent back and stooped shoulders hinged together into a skeleton. His form had once been tall, muscular, perfect.
He'd never been as fair and beautiful as Feonor, or Turgon, or even many others. The greatest ones' sons, brothers, and even dearest friends turned life-long servants had always been lovelier than he. However, he once didn't look like "that." Now he did.
A frustrated sigh exited his lungs, slipped through his lips, and stirred the water to once again distort the reflection it showed. A shadow fell over it, making his reflection even clearer. He looked up. A tall, unblemished if still common-looking ellon gazed down at him with a bemused smile. "Are you going in or not?"
. . .
He dug and dug: tore hunks of earth and rock out with his bare hands. He hadn't known he was still so strong. Desperation surged out of him like the tide. Dirt, pebbles, and even boulders sprayed over his shoulders. Sometimes, a slide of debris from above his hole hid the light, blocked the breeze. He dug even faster to recover them both then.
He had given up listening for footsteps, breaths, and growls behind him. He had given up not-alerting them with the noise of his efforts. He just dug faster to escape any hands coming to drag him away. He could breathe it into his nostrils and feel it on his face! Light! Air! Light! Air! Escape! Escape!
The crevice reappeared and remained before him. It was wider. He crouched, twisted, grabbed, pulled! His head was through! His shoulders were out!
He scrambled, pushed, his chest, his abdomen, his hips, his legs, his knees, and finally his feet were all free!
He stood up. He looked up. Air! A rush of wind swept over him. Chilling him. He shivered. Light fell into his eyes. He almost laughed.
Through the dark haze always over this place, as he'd noticed, when he'd first been pulled and dragged down here, one star shone through, over him, over the crevice.
He bit his finger and bowed his head. He wanted to scream for joy. Warm, wetness gushed from his eyes, filled the crevices beneath them, and poured over his cheeks. He smelled salt on this wind. The sea, the wind came from the sea. That meant ..!
He turned. He looked to the south. Home! Home was in that direction. He could get home!
. . .
"Home …"
"What?"
He shook his head at the Green elf's question. He stood to his feet and stepped into the water. "Let us begin …"
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God Bless
ScribeofHeroes