CHAPTER 17. A SONG IN THE DARK
Aragorn's heart pounded hard and fast, threatening to burst through his chest. The soldier jutted his sword forward threateningly, his face displaying an impeccably clear message - one false move and you will find yourself impaled on the end of this blade. Aragorn shot a hasty glance behind him, but there was no means of escape – just a pace or two backwards was the ledge, below which hung a fall of several hundred feet and a landing place of unforgiving stone.
"Who are you?" asked the soldier gruffly, bringing his attention away from the cliff face. Aragorn made no reply but to stare at him coldly, and the man snarled in annoyance.He rolled his eyes impatiently, and waved his sword threateningly, gesturing towards the cave. Aragorn reluctantly obeyed the obvious command, feeling the cold steel of the blade rest against his back. He passed into the shadows, the jagged rocky walls becoming increasingly difficult to see as they progressed inwards. Aragorn slowed his pace slightly, stumbling in the pitch-blackness.
"Keep going." the man snapped impatiently, jutting the sword against his back again in warning.
He is taking me to his superior, Aragorn realized suddenly. The one who is behind all of this madness – the one who took Legolas.
After a few more moments of stumbling through the darkness, the tunnel widened into a large chamber. It was lit by several torches along the wall, the flames of which danced on the cave walls. Several men were scattered around the space, using large rocks as makeshift seats or else standing, arms crossed. They were all armed, some with swords, or else bows, and were clothed in an assortment of armours and battle wear. They murmured conversations in a jumble of languages Aragorn couldn't understand.
In the centre of the room stood a man that Aragorn immediately took as their leader - though his clothes and weapons were much the same as the others, his stance was wide in the way of authority, and the air with which he surveyed his men implied a sense of superiority. The man turned at the sound of their footsteps, eyes widening upon Aragorn.
Aragorn frowned slightly as he caught sight of the face. His features were undoubtedly of Gondor – sandy hair, sun-worn skin, and grey eyes (albeit, his were more cold than was usual) - but it seemed in his subconscious that there was something even more familiar about him. His mind was a whirlwind, though, and he couldn't even determine whether or not he had met the man before.
"I found this one lurking about outside the entranceway." the soldier explained, disrupting Aragorn's thoughts and pushing forwards suddenly so that he stumbled. "He must be a scout, like the last one!"
"Why is he unbound, then?" the man asked snidely, as if determined to be unimpressed by this new prisoner, and the soldier flushed red as he hastened to tie Aragorn's hands. The king resisted for a moment, but the soldier had the upper hand and managed to twist his arms back, whilst his superior stepped forward and tied them together, pulling the rope tight with a poorly repressed smile.
"Put him in one of the caverns. I'll deal with him later." he said dismissively. The soldier gave Aragorn's arm a vicious tug, straining his shoulder painfully. Aragorn snarled angrily as he pulled him away, progressing further into the dark tunnel.
"I will make you regret ever laying hand against me, you mark my words." Aragorn threatened proudly in a low growl, trying in vain to shake off the man's firm grip. The only response he got was a short laugh, and then silence again as they continued through the deepening blackness, Aragorn stumbling, the solider pacing surefootedly. A labyrinth-like network of tunnels spanned out to the sides of the passageway; hundreds of winding paths lined the walls. Aragorn tried for a while to take note of the tunnels so that he could find his way back out, but the darkness and the speed of their pace made it impossible.
After a minute or two, when all sign of sunlight was thoroughly gone and the air grown chill, the soldier stopped and turned towards one of the side chambers. He gave Aragorn a sharp shove in the back and, unprepared for the assault, he fell forwards, landing on the jagged stone with a cry of surprise. Before he had time to register or recover, the man had slipped a rope around his ankles, tying the knot tight with unfumbling fingers, even in the dark. Aragorn heard the footsteps fade off into the distance, leaving him disorientated and alone in the cold, black space.
Aragorn crawled a few paces awkwardly, before sitting upright, eyes straining against the dark. The sidetunnel he had been pushed into was large, empty and cold, and the winds whistled up from the depths of the mountain, chilling him to the bone – he pulled his cloak around his shoulders with a slight shiver. The walls and floor were jagged, and the roof high enough for even someone so tall as himself to stand.
Aragorn carefully stood up, trying to maintain his balance with his feet bound together. He shuffled forwards awkwardly, barely able to move his feet an inch. He steadied himself and attempted a bounding jump forwards, but upon landing on the vastly uneven floor wobbled and fell.
Well, I'm going to need a new plan, Aragorn thought dully.
~~~{###}~~~
Legolas shivered, recoiling in the darkness. It took him a moment to register what prompted the gesture – cold. He felt the chill to his very bones, his skin prickling. His wounds no longer burnt fierily, but hummed with a dull, throbbing pain that engulfed his whole body. His head spun dizzily when he tried to sit up, and his thoughts were a haze.
I have fought to hard to lose heart now, he thought desperately.
Suddenly words began to blossom on his lips without his bidding, and he began to sing, quite unsure of why, or what had prompted him.
"In western lands beneath the Sun
the flowers may rise in Spring,
the trees may bud, the waters run,
the merry finches sing."
It was not an Elven tune, of that he was certain – he had learnt it from the Hobbits during the Quest, perhaps. The Halflings had often sung to keep up their spirits during the journey, much to his amusement and confusion at the time. Yet, here in the dark and without sign of hope, the idea suddenly made sense. His clear voice echoed off the cavern walls, as cool and melodic as the call of a bird.
"Or there maybe 'tis cloudless night
and swaying beeches bear
the Elven-stars as jewels white
amid their branching hair."
There was the sound of raised voices a short way down the tunnel, and hurried footsteps as the guards sped to investigate the source of the music, but Legolas took no heed of them. The song flowed off his lips as naturally as breathing – an impulse.
"Though here at journey's end I lie
in darkness buried deep,
beyond all towers strong and high,
beyond all mountains steep,
above all shadows rides the Sun
and Stars for ever dwell:
I will not say the Day is done,
nor bid the Stars farewell."
The last notes drifted off into the echoing abyss just as the guard reached him, grabbing his shirt with a clenched fist and hauling him brutally to his feet.
"What do you think you're doing?!" the man hissed angrily. "Do you want to awaken the entire mountain?"
He let go of the Elf's shirt and let him tumble to the ground, slamming into the hard rock.
"Silence." he whispered threateningly, delivering him a sharp kick to his broken ribs that made him cry out in agony.
The guard walked away as the pain won over, the darkness clouding his eyes once more as he drifted out of consciousness.
~~~{###}~~~
Aragorn was panting to regain his breath, face flat on the cold stone, when he heard the sound echoing from somewhere in the distance.
"Though here at journey's end I lie
in darkness buried deep…"
He recognized the voice in an instant, and his heart leapt – Legolas was here, and alive!
Aragorn quickly sat up and began to crawl, not even noticing the stone slashing open his knees in his haste. As he reached the entrance to the cavern, he paused again to listen:
"… I will not say the Day is done,
nor bid the Stars farewell."
Aragorn shuffled into the main passageway, hardly daring to believe his luck, when the sound of Legolas crying out in pain resonated through the caves. His blood ran cold and he froze, unable to move as his ears strained to hear the exchange. After a few moments, when no more sound came travelling down the tunnels, he began to crawl with renewed urgency.
I am coming, Legolas.