Another short one I'm afraid, I will try to move it on after this.
Thanks to those of you still reading and to the two new followers, hope it doesn't disappoint.
Ilovevolleyball- I could tell you... but wheres the fun in that! Glad you're still enjoying it, I love hearing from you.
Guest - thanks for the lovely review. * Blushes*
Keep on with the reviews it helps so much to know what you all think.
Ok, lets get on with it then.
Chapter 14
During the time it has taken for Legolas to determine his escape the silent watcher in the canopy above has been brooding over his next move. As the young elfs resolve has strengthened so has the elders. The silence maintained by his captive during the past few hours has done nothing to appease the feelings of anger and grief, in fact it has encouraged him to nurture them, turning the powerful emotions into such a force of hatred that he feels as if his whole body thrums with the tension of keeping it pent up inside. Unaware that he is fast loosing himself within these dire emotions he encourages the feelings, reliving each slice through pristine flesh, each flowering blossom of blood, recalling words spoken over and over again throughout.
" For Erlinniel,. Will you pay for her death with yours?" Irrevocably breaking their past ties of friendship and honour to overlay them with hatred and despair. And all the while the young archer has refused to give him what his heart craved, uttering not a sound, showing only a slight taughtening of his full, pale lips with each fresh draw of the shining blade.
Lhosson gazes down into the clearing, barely distinguishing the slight form slumped where he has left him. Unable to make out the slight movement Legolas makes flexing his muscles and tensing against his bonds he nevertheless is certain that this is what will be taking place. He knows this elf so well, can almost hear the train of thought running through the archers mind. He is certain that the pride inherited from his father and the need for freedom will overrule all else and escape will be the only outcome Lhosson is certain the prince will contemplate. The only question left to ponder is how far he should let it go before stepping in to bring hope crashing down and with it, hopefully, the archers self esteem. His need to cow Legolas completely is almost physical now and in his mind he can almost taste the fear that will emanate from the archer as he breaks him completely before finally sending him to join his daughter in Mandos to meet her vengeance.
He decides to wait and see what transpires, when the prince should escape his bonds he will be unsteady and unable to move fast or far so it will be no hardship to follow in his wake and bide his time. A cruel smile plays around the corners of his lips, his once bright fea now darkened by emotions he can no longer control. He will enjoy bringing this princeling down, watching as he begs in the dirt at his feet but to no avail, the die is now cast, Legolas will die and die painfully with the final realisation that there was never any hope, not even a fools hope.
The soft grey of approaching dawn brings Lhosson out of his black reverie and his eyes again seek out the slender figure below him noticing that the young elf has, at last, managed to free himself from the bow string restraint and is now kneeling, rubbing at chaffed wrists, whilst surveying the clearing about him, obviously trying to ascertain the whereabouts of his captor. With the innate skill of the wood elves the elder remains motionless and perfectly hidden within the cover of the tree he has chosen for a perch, not even the slightest rustle of a leaf to betray his presence, blending in so perfectly that should Legolas chance to peer directly towards him the branches would appear empty.
At last the young archer seems satisfied with his inspection and gently begins to pull himself to his feet, hanging on to the lifeless tree stump to aid in achieving and upright position. Lhossons eyes gleam as he notes the lack of fluidity and unsteadiness in the princes movements, realising that he has inflicted more damage than he first thought due to the stoic nature of the young being.
" Stubborn young fool, you can not escape your doom" the softly spoken words leave his mouth like a sigh on the wind before he realises he has vocalised his thoughts and for a moment feels his pulse begin to race amid worries they will carry down to the elf below and betray his existence yet as he watches he sees no indication that this is so and gradually the hammering of his heart reduces until it is quiescent once more within his chest.
Legolas feels his legs tremble beneath him as he clutches at the rough bark to haul himself erect. The blood loss and pain have depleted him more than he first thought and he feels himself sway lightly, as if in a boat travelling down the forest river to Laketown. Shaking his head briefly to try to clear the sensation only makes matters worse and the world suddenly dips as if pulled from under him forcing him to stumble then crash back down onto the blood soaked ground once more. Lying still for a few moments he waits to regain his equilibrium before attempting to rise once more. Senses dulled by his depleted state he fails to hear the softly spoken words uttered above his head and with concentration focused entirely upon deflecting the pain and reaching his goal the usual rapport with the trees he holds is dulled such that he feels totally and utterly alone.
Finally managing to raise himself to his feet once more the archer gradually releases the vice like grip of fingers unwilling to let go of comforting wood and stands, unaided, with the barest of tremors passing through his beleaguered body. Mindful of the fact that movement is necessary but reluctant to try on legs that feel like jelly he gathers his not inconsequential resolve and takes one, small, hesitant step, then another, inching away from the comforting stump and out into the empty clearing.
He has planned no direction of travel, figuring that as he has no idea where he is, there is no point in trying to work out where to get to therefore all he can do is attempt to put as much space between himself and his captor as possible, hoping to luck and the Valar for guidance. He tries to remember the direction that the faint sounds of battle drifted from, what seems an eternity ago but it is lost in the pain filled recesses of his mind and anyway can not decide if to head towards it would mean encountering friend or foe so purely concentrates on putting one foot in front of the other and in this way slowly reaches the edge of the clearing and enters the woods beyond.
Lhoson watches unheeded as the young archer gradually works his way over to the trees on the furthest side of the clearing from where he waits, eagerly spotting the tell tale signs of fatigue and depletion exhibited by the slender form. He lingers until the figure exits into the wood before moving stealthily from tree to tree orbiting the clearing until standing high above the place where the prince has vanished into the undergrowth, noting with satisfaction that his quarry remains unsteady enough to stay earth bound. He waits for a few heartbeats then moves carefully on, tracing in the canopy the path taken below. This will be fun. It is long since he had a chance to hunt and he anticipates the capture at the end of this one will be very sweet indeed