Chapter 13 - Vain Hopes
Alcandir whistled as he packed up his things and prepared to continue his journey further into Harad. He didn’t realize he was whistling until his horse whinnied loudly in response to an especially shrill note. Even once he became aware of his music making he couldn’t recall the tune he had been producing. He was too caught up in his own thoughts to take notice.
Soon after crossing into the desert land, Alcandir’s journey had turned sour. His horse, Mithril, named thusly for his silver coloring, had been startled by the sudden appearance of a large snake, throwing the bounty hunter from his seat in an attempt to flee the vicinity. While in flight, the animal then attempted to leap a fallen, dead tree, which had obviously been dragged into the desert by someone in an attempt to build a shelter of sorts. Mithril then caught his hind leg on the dead tree, tearing a large gash in the horses strong limb.
Alcandir had needed to walk along side his horse for the next two nights in order to alleviate any extra strain on the animal. If it hadn’t been for the absolute absurdity of the entire situation, the man probably would have screamed in frustration. Yet, as the bounty hunter had stood, looking at the unusual array of items that had just hindered his journey, he began to laugh.
Even now, as he tried to recall the song he had been trilling, a smile spread over his face at the stories this job would create and the hours of entertainment his friends would get from his tales.
That is if I survive this quest.
As he loaded the last of the items onto Mithril’s back, Alcandir paused once again to massage his own bruised backside. The fall had not been easy on him either and the subsequent walk had not helped, he was glad that he would be riding once again.
"Well Mithril, shall we continue further into this forsaken land? The welcome has not been warm thus far." Alcandir was answered with silence and letting out a rather large sigh, swung himself onto the horses back.
Two days. Two days until we actually reach a town and we can begin the real work.
With these thoughts running through his mind, Alcandir nudged the horse into motion and set out into the darkening desert.
I just hope the Prince’s welcome has been better than ours.
*******
Waking hadn’t been quite as difficult this time. Granted, Legolas did wake to find himself in a small, dark room with no windows. Calling it a room was generous, the ceiling was approximately four feet from the ground and the walls about five feet in length. It was more a cage than a room and the cage was stifling. There was no air circulating through and the heat from the desert outside penetrated the walls and made the air difficult to breathe.
When Legolas first woke, he actually wondered if he had opened his eyes, so dark was the room. He was laying curled up, his head pressed into the corner so that he could fit into the tiny cell, and his head hurt. As a matter of fact, Legolas was beginning to wonder when the last time was that his head didn’t hurt.
Legolas slowly pushed himself into a sitting position and reached his hand up probing his head for the source of his pain. He could feel a jagged cut about two inches long on his right temple. Blood had dried around the cut and to the side of his face where it had made its trail down off of his chin.
He then ran his hand over the rest of his face searching for other possible injuries. On his right cheek he found the cut caused by Kalen’s many rings. Blood had dried around this cut as well and Legolas let out a soft groan as he realized what a sight he must be.
If only Aragorn could see me now, I would never hear the end of it
Legolas actually wished that Aragorn could see him, he would gladly put up with years of ribbing in exchange for this cage. He hoped that Kalen was right in his assumption that an army from Gondor was on its way for him, but deep down he knew that the King wouldn’t come. There was no way that Aragorn would risk a war with Harad because of four elves. Moreover, Aragorn was smart enough to realize that Kalen would kill his captives the moment he saw the army coming.
Legolas had resolved himself that help would not be coming and if he were to get out of here he would have to rely on himself. If only he could have a moment to figure things out. This was the first time that Legolas had been alone since being taken and he wasn’t in the easiest place to escape from.
He began to feel around the tiny room to get a better understanding of where he was being held. The floor was made of compacted dirt, the walls of a thick wood that Legolas didn’t recognize. There was a door which encompassed nearly half of one of the walls but it was sealed tight and there was no way to open it from the inside. He couldn’t feel any hinges or knobs, just crevices that indicated that it was the way out.
It must have been day outside because the room was hot. The heat was so intense that it was even affecting Legolas. He felt a drop of sweat roll down the back of his neck, the sensation surprising him somewhat, he had never experienced anything like it before. It had gotten warm during the summer months in Mirkwood and Ithilien, but the shade of the trees had cooled things down considerably.
Legolas scooted back into the corner and leaned against the wall. The darkness was starting to close in on him, his breathing was coming more quickly. It was too small and too dark. He closed his eyes and tried to will away his fear. He hadn’t felt like this since Moria and he had hoped, at that time, to never feel it again. He needed to get out before his heart beat straight through his chest.
A rattling outside his cell ripped Legolas from his terror. A loud banging followed and the door to his cell was flung open. Light flooded in, temporarily blinding the elf and he blinked his eyes rapidly in order to adjust to the change.
"Come out elf." A cold voice demanded. "And do not get brave, the other male elf is already in great pain due to your earlier actions."
Legolas hesitated momentarily, he didn’t know if this change of events was any better. He then slid himself across the dirt floor and climbed out of his tight confine and came to stand. His legs protested slightly from their extended lack of use and the weakness that was incurred by the arrow wound. His back ached from the bent position that he needed to lie in and his neck burned from where Kalen had stood on it.
Nolir stood in front of Legolas and looked him over, his narrow eyes coming to stop on the cut on the elf’s cheek. "Put these on and do not give me any trouble elf, you know what will happen if you do" He growled as he threw a bundle at Legolas and stepped back, his eyes never leaving the golden elf. Legolas opened the bundle to reveal a pale blue robe with a white tie made of silk rope.
He slowly slid his leather tunic over his head and removed the light weight under tunic. He didn’t remove his leggings, even though they were quite tattered from the wound and ministrations. He kept his own boots as well, pulling the robe on over them. Nolir stepped forward just as Legolas was tying the rope around his waist and handed the elf a bowl full of water and a cloth.
"Clean yourself up. You look a disgrace. Especially for a prince."
Legolas proceeded to dampen the cloth with the water and wipe it over his face. He rinsed it back out in the water and watched as the once clean liquid turned pink. He ran the cloth over his face several more times then handed the items back to Nolir.
"Kalen is waiting for you in his chambers. You are to help him prepare for dinner and then you will serve him and his advisors."
Legolas was lead away from his cell and across the courtyard. The cell was exactly that. Rather than dungeons, Marek had a series of ‘sweat boxes’ where criminals and misbehaving slaves were kept. The cells had no protection from the sun and were known to get extremely hot. It was a form of punishment for those placed within and most only ever visited once as, those who survived the experience, did everything within their power to not have to go back.
Nolir lead Legolas up the stairs and into the palace. The sun had just dipped below the horizon and the marble walls kept the palace quite cool. The elf prince stretched out his back and legs as he was guided through the lengthy corridors. While he walked and stretched he tried to take note of the path that he was lead on. If he had the opportunity to escape, he didn’t want to be hindered because he he had the mishap to get lost.
The pair stopped in front of an ornately carved wooden door and Nolir reached out and knocked three times. Then, without awaiting a response he turned the knob and swung the door open. He stepped slightly to the side of the entryway and motioned for Legolas to enter. The elf stepped into the room and Nolir closed the door behind them standing just in front of it, acting as guard.
Kalen sat at a table with a large mirror, watching Legolas’ reflection. "The robes of Marek suit you, do you not agree?" He didn’t wait for a response but continued on, "I am most fortunate to have such a fine servant."
Kalen turned around and rose from the bench he was perched on. He strode across the room and stopped in front of Legolas. He looked the elf over starting at his feet his eyes slowly roving up the elf and stopping on his face. He then reached out and traced the cut on Legolas’ cheek with a thick finger.
"You are an interesting creature. Very fair and yet very strong. I could learn a lot from you and you a lot from me"
Legolas felt repulsed by the man’s touch and jerked his face away, increasing the distance between himself and Kalen. Eyes narrowing even more at the slight, Kalen let out a growl and snatched the elf’s chin, twisting his face back so that he looked directly into the prince’s eyes.
"I will not warn you again elf. You belong to me now and you will do as I say."
"I belong to no one," Legolas hissed.
Kalen clenched his teeth and squeezed the chin harder, "Oh no? You may want to reconsider your attitude." A sickening smile appeared on Kalen’s face as he spoke. "The male elf is already in great pain due to your earlier foolishness. Even as we speak, he lie in a heap, whimpering in pain. I would hate to bring the same misery to either of the maidens."
The two stared at one another for a moment, neither willing to back down to the other. Legolas especially was not about to let this man intimidate him. He would cooperate as much as possible so that he could save the others from harm, but he would not jeopardize his honor.
"There is a red robe with gold etching in my closet," Kalen said averting his eyes, "Retrieve it for me."
Legolas hesitantly assisted the Lord of Kalen in his preparations for dinner, it was a long and agonizing task and took all of the elf’s patience to keep from strangling the man. His pride ached at the power this man held over him. It was a cowardly way to control someone, but it was definitely working. Once they had finished their preparations, Nolir reopened the door and Kalen stepped out followed by Legolas with the guard bringing up the rear.
The trio made there way back through the winding corridors and into a large dining hall. All those sitting around the table rose as the Lord of Marek entered.
Nolir reached out and grabbed Legolas roughly by the arm, "You will stand to Kalen’s left and do as you are bid." The elf glared at the guard, a hint of warning in his eyes, then yanked his arm from the guard’s grasp and moved to stand next to Kalen’s chair.
Dinner was served and the Diners began to engage in conversation over their meals when Legolas realized that it had been many days since he had last eaten. He rolled his eyes to the ceiling and took a deep breath.
Valar help me, he thought to himself. Give me strength
"Elf!" Kalen was yelling, anger evident in his voice. Legolas refocused his attention on the man and raised his eyebrows in anticipation. "I called to you three times elf."
Legolas stepped forward, he wasn’t going to respond and he sure wasn’t going to apologize. Kalen reached up and grabbed the elf by the shoulder and pulled him close, his nails digging into the elf’s flesh.
"I should only have to summon you once. The red headed she-elf will be punished later for your lack of respect." Kalen hissed.
Shock ran through Legolas. This man was going to punish Adaria because he hadn’t heard him beckoning. He couldn’t just sit back and let the other elves be punished for his mistakes. "I do not think that necessary." Legolas responded.
"It matters not what you think slave."
"You cannot punish her just because I did not hear you summon me."
"I can do whatever I want. I am Lord of Marek and your master."
Legolas rose from his bent position, anger flaring within him. He couldn’t allow it. Adaria had done nothing wrong. All logic fled him and Legolas’ hand shot out, snatching the knife from Kalen’s plate. Looming over the Lord of Marek, he placed the point of the knife to Kalen’s throat. "You cannot do it!" Legolas shouted.
Kalen was caught completely off guard, his eyes were wide in fear and the rest of the Diner’s had fallen quiet, watching in anticipation.
"You will never make it out of here alive if you kill me, Legolas." the warning was a whisper and the confidence had returned to the large man. "If you die, then who will look after the others. You cannot protect them in your Halls of Waiting."
Stunned by how much this man actually did know about elves, Legolas felt his press on the knife loosen slightly. He knew that it didn’t really matter how this incident turned out, both he and one, if not all, of the others would be punished. Things were going from bad to worse quickly.
"You are mine now Legolas, accept it, I will do with you what I wish." Kalen’s whispered breath brushed over Legolas’ face and the anger he felt screamed inside of him.
Legolas lashed out, slashing the tip of the knife across the large man’s face. A line of red appeared instantly on Kalen’s cheek and he pressed his hand up to the injury. Throwing the knife to the table, Legolas fled the dining hall, the murmurs of shock from the other diners echoing in his ears.
No sooner had he cleared the hall when he was tackled from the side by Nolir. The large captain was accompanied by two other guards and the three of them quickly overpowered the elf. None too gently were Legolas’ arms wrenched behind his back by one while the others attempted to hold him down. Legolas let out a growl of frustration as Nolir twisted his hand in the elf’s golden hair and forced him to his feet.
The large figure of the Lord of Marek stepped out of the dining hall a smug look on his blood stained face. He held a pure white linen napkin in his chubby hand and wiping blood from his face, briskly walked to the now subdued elf Prince. "Put him back in the sweatbox. He can stay there until he learns some manners." Kalen hissed, spraying Legolas with spittle as he spoke. He stared long in into the elf’s eyes willing Legolas to give in under his stare.
Unable to hold the elf’s gaze, Kalen swung his eyes to Nolir, "Get him out of my sight."
Legolas, surrounded by Nolir and the two other guards was pushed, shoved and pulled from the palace and across the courtyard. The sun had set, causing the temperature to dip somewhat and Legolas got a brief glance up at the stars shining overhead. His reverie was shortly lived, however, as he was forcefully shoved back into his cell. He hit the ground hard on his knees and turned to see the door slam shut and the light sucked from the cage.