CHAPTER 12. CAPTIVE
Legolas drifted out of unconsciousness, awaking to agonizing pain. He was bound tightly, so tightly that the rope tore into his wrists and ankles, yet that was nothing compared to the fiery agony in his shoulder. His mind a drowsy blur, he scrambled to remember the last moments before his apparent capture.
He vaguely recalled tumbling to the ground, his weapons snatched from his reach, his thoughts marred by burning, explosive pain.
"Bind his wound." a strong voice commanded, his voice laden with a foreign accent that Legolas could not identify. "He must be alive."
Careless, untrained hands secured the dirty rags around his shoulder, tying the knots with unnecessary and vicious tightness. Strong arms pulled him to his feet, forcing him to stand, but his knees bowed beneath him, unable to hold his own weight.
"Carry him back to the horses." the man ordered, his tone one of disgust at the weakness of his captive, and Legolas felt himself unceremoniously hoisted into the air by several sets of strong arms. He struggled momentarily against his captors, but his body soon fell limp with exhaustion. His consciousness fast drifting away, he felt the jerking motion of footfalls as the men began to march...
His mind would show him nothing more of his memories, and with a jolt of panic he returned to his own stark situation.
The roughly tied cloths binding his shoulder were stained bright crimson with blood. A floor of cold, jagged stone pressed uncomfortably against his stomach, but with his wrists and ankles tied he could do nothing to move even an inch. The space was dark, and he could see no further than a few feet away in the blinding blackness.
Suddenly the sound of approaching voices echoed off the cavernous walls.
"What of his wounds? I did not want him injured." a first voice stated coldly.
"We had no choice! He was fighting with the strength of ten men, our soldiers were falling too fast. We had to abate him." a second man replied urgently. Legolas recognized the thickly accented voice of leader in his capture, yet his apparent intimidation of this new speaker made it obvious that he was not the captain of the group.
"If he dies, I will not be pleased. There have been too many mistakes already. The other one escaped your men, I hear." the cold voice drawled accusingly.
"Yes, my lord. The Dwarf escaped." the man admitted reluctantly.
Legolas' heart flittered in relief.
Gimli may yet be safe from harm, he thought with a sense of relieved satisfaction, though this feeling soon faded as his shoulder throbbed painfully.
"A Dwarf and an Elf, riding together as fellows. How very strange." the cold voice mused. "But I am little surprised by the presence of the Elf in these lands, though they do not dwell in them. The pointy-eared tree-dwellers are always meddling in things that don't involve them-"
"I grieve to hear you speak of my kindred with such disdain." Legolas spat suddenly, straining against his bonds in an attempt to see the two men, unable to hold back his anger at the unprovoked attack on his people.
There was a short peal of cold laughter from the first man, equally as dispiriting and bitter as his voice had been.
"Leave." he demanded shortly of his comrade. "I wish to speak to him alone."
The footsteps echoed and faded away, before the first voice spoke again.
"I see you have awoken." he drawled. "Comfortable, are you?"
Legolas held back a snarl. The ropes dug tightly into the skin around his wrists, rubbing the skin raw and he struggled against the bonds. His wounded shoulder burnt agonizingly, whilst the slash in his torso throbbed, in no way assisted by the careless position he had been strewn into. He craned his neck upwards, but even his sharp Elven eyes gave him nothing but a dark silhouette of the man before him.
"Let us start with something simple, shall we?" his captor suggested lightly. "What is your name?"
Legolas' brow crumpled into a slight frown, and his lips remained stubbornly closed.
"Now, now, Elf, you do not want to play games with me." said the man, quiet but threateningly.
"Tell me your name, and I may return the favor." Legolas stated boldly, head as upheld as he could manage in a show of firm defiance.
"Perhaps I will eventually, but not yet." the man replied slowly. "What is your name, Elf?"
"It is no business of yours what my name is." Legolas answered rigidly.
The man sighed tiredly, bending his knees and crouching so that his face was almost level with that of his captive. "You really do not seem to understand the current situation. You will answer my questions."
Legolas briefly caught the sharp glint of a blade, but was powerless to resist as the dagger was placed against his throat, a trickle of blood trailing from where it met the fair skin.
"Olórin, of Lorién." Legolas lied hastily, his heart thumping loudly against the blade pressed to his neck.
The man slowly withdrew the dagger from Legolas' throat and gazed at him for a moment, his expression unreadable in the darkness. Legolas struggled to keep his face impassive, his eyes unreadable, yet the action was foreign; Elves were innately poor liars.
"Of Lorién?" he repeated skeptically. "Yet you happened into Gondor, and thus abided for a time in Minas Tirith. What was your purpose there?"
"I was an ambassador for my people." Legolas replied quickly. "I was sent to oversee the reconstruction of Gondor, and offer the services of the Lorién Elves. Our people have long been allies."
"An ambassador?" the man stated, frowning. "Am I incorrect in saying that you appear too young, even by the standards of your kind?"
"I have seen more summers bloom and winters fade than you would in ten lifetimes." Legolas snapped, partially in genuine annoyance at his ignorance, but also using the opportunity to strengthen his false identity.
His captor raised his eyebrows in surprise and mild amusement, but nodded. "Very well, very well. Perhaps it is best that you are an ambassador - an Elf of high ranking, as it was. It may well bring benefit to me in the end."
"And what end may that be?" Legolas returned.
The man turned away, pacing back and forth with cautious footfalls.
"I understand not your purpose." Legolas spat, pulling at his bonds with foolish determination. "Of what use am I to you? I would have you tell me and rid you of my presence. It is apparent that you are no friend of me or my people - already I have been threatened at knifepoint!"
"You are a fool if you think I would release you after all the effort spent to get you here." he contradicted, spinning around to face him with a menacing gleam in his eyes. "Yet not for you does my hatred run deep, but for another to whom you have passed counsel. Tell me, Elf: how does King Elessar fare?"
Legolas felt his stomach drop sickeningly, understanding beginning to dawn even in his pain-ridden, drowsy state.
"Answer me, Elf, or you will again meet my dagger!"
"He fares well, as far as I am aware." Legolas replied, hoping that his captor took his wide eyes for innocent surprise instead of panicked alarm.
"As far as you are aware?" the man repeated, eyebrows raised. "You are an ambassador, are you not? Is it not your purpose to exchange trust with him?"
"To a point, yes." Legolas agreed quickly, his mind scrambling for a lie that his captor would buy. "But our dealings are strictly dutiful."
"So you would have me believe that you know naught of the king but what the people of Gondor do?" the man queried sarcastically.
"Aye, I would." Legolas stated with would-be certainty. "Although nor do I understand your quarrels with him."
"My quarrels? My hatred for the King of Gondor are a result of far more than quarrels!" the man laughed sardonically.
"Whilst that may be, I do not understand what role I may play in your elaborate plot." the Elf asked, twisting his arms uncomfortably. "What do I possess that is even of relevance to you, or to the King of Gondor?"
"You possess the most valuable commodity of them all, Elf." the man countered. "Information. And I assure you, you will soon be more than willing to part with it."
Legolas felt a pang of pain completely unrelated to his physical wounds. His suspicions had been confirmed: this man wanted to bring harm to Aragorn, and would use anyone, even a supposed ambassador, to get to him.
~~~{###}~~~
Arod's hooves pounded relentlessly across the Rohan grasslands. The Dwarf rider had long since stopped attempting to halt or divert their progress. The horse, it seemed, would not be thrown from its path by any but his true owner, and seeing as Legolas was miles away, possibly dead, for all Gimli knew, this was of no help to him whatsoever.
Don't you dare die on me, Elf, Gimli scowled mentally. I swear, I will find a way to track you down, and make these men rue the day they ever thought to harm you.
The Dwarf gripped the reins tightly, bouncing jerkily on the saddle with each bound the horse took. He knew not of what path Legolas had set the horse upon, but he could guess with relative certainty: the nearest ally city to the Fangorn Forest was Edoras. It would take him two days to ride there, one perhaps, if the steed's speed did not falter.
It is not fast enough. Legolas may well be dead two days from now, Gimli thought, a panic rising in his chest. I can only imagine where he is now, outnumbered as he was. He would not have submitted to them without a fight, which means he is either injured or...
Gimli took a deep, shaky breath.
There is nothing to be gained from panic, he told himself firmly. The best I can do for Legolas is to reach Edoras with as much haste as possible.
And then what?
Gimli gripped the reins tightly as the saddle jerked upwards over a patch of uneven ground, before settling to an answer.
I must seek the counsel of Éomer, he decided. He will send his men without hesitation. He and Legolas are close comrades, after all. He will do all within his power to recover him.
Will it be enough, though? asked a small voice in the back of his mind. By the time I reach Éomer they will have had more than two days' head start. They could be anywhere by that time, perhaps even outside the borders of Rohan. There will be no catching up with them.
Time will tell, Gimli concluded finally, shutting the worried thoughts from his mind for the moment, his entire being focused on reaching Edoras with as much haste as possible.