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The Need of Many  by Estelle

Rating: PG-13 to R (Angst... proceed with caution)

Summary: When Legolas is forced to make a decision that could very
well determine the fate of all Middle Earth, what will he do? And
what consequences will his choice have?

Disclaimer and Acknowledgements: As in Chapter 1


// = elvish translations
# = flashbacks
* = thought

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Chapter 2 - Stranger in the Dark

Legolas was jolted back into consciousness by a sharp pain. His eyes snapped open and slowly adjusted to the dimness of the surrounding. The place was dark and damp. Sounds of water dripping could be heard some distance away. As his senses came into focus, he noticed that he was being pinned against the rocky surface of a cave, his hands shackled to the wall high above his head with his feet barely touching the ground. The numbing pain in his fingers and arms indicated that he had been held in that position for quite some time. A slow trickle of blood flowed down his right cheek from the deep gash on his temple caused by the blow that had knocked him unconscious.

A dim light emanated from a torch at the far end of his prison, flickering dangerously close to extinction by a cold breeze that swept through the room from a dark tunnel. A hooded figure stood in front of him, red eyes glowing like fire behind the darkness of his cloak. The figure once again flicked the arrow which was still embedded deeply in the elf's shoulder, sending another wave of fierce pain across his shoulder, eliciting a whimper from the wounded being. A hideous smile formed on the creature's lips.

"Ahh... awake finally," said the dark figure as he moved closer to Legolas. "Welcome to my humble home," he added. "I hope you will enjoy your stay."

The voice sent a cold shiver down Legolas' back as the pair of gleaming red eyes peered into his own silver-blue ones. His heart pounded fiercely in his chest and he swallowed hard trying to push back the fear that threatened to overcome him. "Who are you?! And what do you want from me?!" Legolas demanded forcefully to cover the slight tremble in his voice while struggling against the chain that held him prisoner, wincing in pain as the metal cut deeply into his bruised and broken skin.

"I am Delund," the creature replied slowly, leaning closer towards the elf, his face nearly touching his prisoner's. "And I want Vilya." The foul stench of its breath making the elf wince and he was forced to turn his face away from his captor.

"I'm of no use to you then. I do not know where Vilya is," Legolas whispered, hoping that the creature will somehow believe his lies.

Delund's laughter boomed across the large cave. "Do not try to deceive me, Legolas Greenleaf, son of Thranduil. I know who you are for I have been watching the happenings of Rivendell for a long long time. It would have been more preferable if the one who strayed into my territory were the sons of Elrond but you would suffice for I have waited much too long."

"Lord Elrond will not relinquish Vilya for my sake!" the prince spat and yelped when the creature backhanded him sharply across the face, smashing his head into the cave wall. Bright spots danced before his eyes and it took all his strength to keep himself from passing out. He pressed his eyes shut tightly against the pain and swallowed hard as a wave of nausea swept over him.

"Elrond is a weakling! He does not deserve to be made bearer of Vilya. Gil-Galad was a fool to pass the ring to him! I should be the bearer and I WILL be! And you, elf," Delund grinned evilly, "you will be my key."

"I would rather die than see the ring fall into your evil hands!" Legolas shouted and cried out in pain when Delund reached over and wrenched the arrow out of his shoulder. A sinister smile broke out on his face as he licked the bright red blood off the arrowhead. A shudder ran through the prince's frail frame at the sight and grimaced as he felt the warm blood flowing from the newly opened wound down his side and stomach. Delund looked at the bleeding elf longingly and licked his lips but he had to suppress his urge for he had more important things to do. He moved towards the torch, bent down and reached for a long wooden box lying beneath it. Setting it down on a stone table a few feet away, he lifted the lid exposing a long knife.

"My trusty companion," Delund traced the blade lovingly with the tip of his index finger. "The slayer of many weaklings." He raised the blade out of the box tenderly and removed a small vial from the inside corner of the wooden container. His fingers worked quickly but carefully to uncork the vial, never touching the liquid which it contained, and spread the foul liquid onto the blade. "Anehpfos, an ancient poison not known to many, made to cause great pain to its victims." Delund brought the blade close to Legolas' and twisted the blade around inches away from his face enjoying his obvious distress. Suddenly with a flick of his wrist, he brought the blade down and slashing it across Legolas' chest. The elf bit back a cry and squeezed his eyes shut as a spasm of pain shot through his body. A burning sensation radiated from his chest to the rest of his body as the poison made its way into his bloodstream, leaving no traces of itself on the deep ugly wound. He was relieved when the pain did not get any worse and was still at a tolerable level.

"Do not be too relieved, elf," Delund sneered, "The pain will increase following each attack until you are consumed by it. Every five days, for the rest of your pathetic life, you will suffer and die a horrific death at the end of one hundred days... unless you deliver Vilya to me." A cruel laugh erupted from his throat, his voice echoing off the walls of the dark cavern.

"You will not succeed!" the young elf spat angrily as Delund moved over to release the chains which was holding him upright against the wall. Legolas crumpled to the ground when the support was removed, his legs failing to support his weight after long hours of being suspended. Stabbing pain shot through his arm and hands as blood rushed into his numb limbs and he whimpered softly. His involuntary reaction drew a satisfactory smile from Delund.

The creature grabbed the front of Legolas' tunic and hauled him up roughly from the ground, shoving him through the long tunnel which led to the exit of the cave. The elf stumbled and fell a few times during the journey and that earned him many brutal kicks in the chest, bruising his ribs and aggravating his injuries further. It took them only minutes to reach the mouth of the cave but to Legolas, it seemed like a lifetime. Delund pushed the prince out of his lair into the dark and merciless night.

"Go. Send the message to Elrond," he stated coldly before turning around and retreating back into the shadows.

To Be Continued... 





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