Chapter 17- And Then There Was One
Legolas hadn’t expected on waking to find himself lying on the grass looking up at the lush, green branches of a large oak tree. There was a cool breeze dancing through the leaves which had formed a shady shelter for the elf. He watched the spots of sun, which had managed to slip past the protective foliage, dance on the ground.
He knew that he should get up and get moving, but he wasn’t sure where he needed to get going to. He rose from his place of rest and placed a hand on the tree to thank it for the protection it had provided. Silence greeted him and he abruptly jerked his hand away from the tree. He stood motionless, stunned by the lack of sound as he listened intently to the forest surrounding him. There were no birds singing, the trees were silent, even the rustling of the leaves made no sound.
Legolas was confused, he had never witnessed such quiet, and it was eerie. His blue eyes searched the boughs for any sign of life, but there was nothing. He was completely alone in the forest. He walked forward slightly and noted that even his steps emitted no sound.
What is going on here? What is this place?
Something moving in the distance caught his eye, drawing his attention from the disappearance of auditory stimulus. Legolas narrowed his eyes, searching out the source of his distraction. A slight, barely perceptible disturbance between the trees drew his gaze and the elf darted through the forest in pursuit of the mysterious entity.
As he drew closer, an unusual, gray cloud of smoke began to form around him. The smoke wove between the trees and leaves and spread through the forest until Legolas could barely see what lye in front of him.
As it twined through his legs and around his arms, a smothering sensation overwhelmed Legolas and he began to cough violently. I cannot even hear my own voice. The realization hit him like a ton of rocks and he opened his mouth and shouted with all that he had. No sound came out. Turning back in the direction he had come from, he began to run once again, hoping to get ahead of the stifling smoke.
Flames exploded in front of the elf prince and he stopped abruptly. The forest is burning, what manner of spell is this? Turning once again he began to run in the opposite direction. The smoke blinded him and his eyes began to water, it snaked into his mouth and down into his lungs suffocating him. Once again he found himself cut off by the fire consuming the forest.
Legolas turned to his left only to be met by more flames. Every direction he turned he was met by fire and smoke. He was trapped and the flames were closing in on him. Pieces of burning branch began to rain down on the elf and panic started looming inside of him. The flames were so close now that he could feel them licking at his face and arms.
He had nowhere to go. He was trapped and he would die in this hell. His lungs were burning and screaming for air as he continued to cough. Eyes watering, throat constricting, flesh burning, Legolas fell to his knees. The elf couldn’t fight much longer, he had run out of air and the flames had started to spin around him. They spun faster and Legolas gasped harder for breath. Then he was falling, the ground was rushing up to meet him and Legolas could do nothing to stop himself.
His head slammed hard into the burning earth and Legolas jerked awake. His eyes shot open and he arched his back, sucking in a large breath. His throat screeched as the air rushed through it flooding his lungs with air. Legolas breathed in again and again, the breaths coming deep and quick. His heart was pounding so loud that it seemed to echo throughout the tiny sweatbox.
Legolas’ eyes were open wide and he began to panic once again as he realized that he couldn’t see anything in the tiny room. Sweat dripped down his face and back and stung as it soaked into the cuts that riddled his body. His back ached from the extended time in the same position and he attempted to move himself to ease the strain.
He couldn’t move. Something was pinning Legolas to the wall and there was a weight upon his chest. Aye, what is happening to me. I must be going mad. He pressed against the object that held him down and was shocked to find that he was being immobilized by another person.
"Lómëdil," realization dawned on him. They had brought the dark-haired elf in sometime ago, maybe even days, how long he wasn’t sure. Nienna, Lómëdil’s beloved had been killed and Adaria’s whereabouts were unknown.
Legolas began to shake the other elf. "Lómëdil, wake my friend." There was no response and Legolas intensified his attempts to rouse him. "Please Lómëdil, you must wake." Still, no response and Legolas began to panic once again. He felt along the prone elf searching for signs of life.
Oh Valar, do not do this. Please!
Legolas pressed his hands to the other elf’s chest and stilled his own movements. He sat there for what felt an eternity, hoping for some type of sensation.
Nothing.
He leaned his head as far forward as he could, considering his awkward position beneath the other elf, and listened for breath.
Silence.
Legolas felt his heart clench and he began to heave. "No. No. No. No. Please Lómëdil." He was going to be sick.
Maybe I still dream. Wake up Legolas.
Tears flowed unhindered from the blonde elf’s eyes. He began to heave more. Pulling the elf tightly to him he held him, the tears dripping onto the dead elf. "I am sorry my friend. I am so sorry." He repeated the words over and over, hoping for forgiveness for having failed to protect the elf and his beloved Nienna.
Legolas had heard his entire life that elves could die of a broken heart. He had feared for elves in his kingdom after the loss of a loved one. Many times himself he had thought that despair might take him or one that he loved. But he had never actually witnessed it himself. That the cause of the broken heart had been because of his failure, ate at Legolas even more.
Tears had eventually stopped but Legolas continued to hold Lómëdil’s body as though willing his spirit to stay. He lay his head atop the dark head of the elf and prayed that the Valar would guide Lómëdil safely to the Halls of Mandos.
Then the rattling came. It sounded so loud this time and Legolas closed his eyes tightly as a bang resounded around him. Hands reached in and grabbed Lómëdil’s legs and began to pull, but Legolas was not letting go. They had already taken the elf’s soul. They could not have his body.
"Let go elf!" Came a shout from outside.
Legolas held on as long as he could, he fought with all of the energy that he had left to keep his friend close to him. But Lómëdil slid from his grasp and his body was removed from the sweatbox. Legolas wasn’t sure what they did with the dark-haired elf. Perhaps he was buried with his beloved Nienna, but something told him that these Haradrim were not compassionate enough for such an act.
Before he could dwell on it more, the face of Nolir appeared before him. That sneer would be forever etched into the memory of the elf prince. If he lived to get out of Marek, he would always remember the evil smile that belonged to this hideous man.
"Come elf. You have been summoned." Nolir growled.
Legolas didn’t move. He had no desire to go anywhere. Especially to see that monster of a man. It seemed, however, that he didn’t have much of a choice. A large hand reached in and grabbed the elf by the leg and began to pull him out in the same fashion they had removed Lómëdil.
Legolas bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut to keep from shouting out as the pulling strained his injured knee. He began to push with his arms to aid in exiting the box so as to relieve some of the pain. He slid along the hard dirt and he could feel the barely closed cut on his lower back rip open.
Finally, the dragging stopped and Legolas opened his eyes. He was lying on the ground at the feet of the ugly guard. Nolir leaned down and grabbed the elf by the bicep and hoisted him to his feet. Legolas stumbled slightly as weight was put on his damaged knee causing the joint to buckle inward and Nolir shot out a hand to steady him.
The guard began to lead Legolas back into the palace. Every step was agony for the elf and he found himself leaning heavily on Nolir. No words were spoken as they slowly made the journey to Kalen’s private chambers.
The large Lord of Marek was there to greet the elf and guard as they entered the room. The smile faded from Kalen’s face as he saw Legolas. "I am astounded that you still draw breath. Amazing!"
Kalen began to pace back and forth in front of Legolas and Nolir, the guard continued to hold him by his arm to keep him in place.
"You are looking a little worse for the wear though. Yet, you have suffered more than any I know and you still live." Kalen stopped to look Legolas in the eye. "Still so proud. I have withheld food and water. You have been beaten and tortured both physically and mentally. What does it take to break an elf prince?"
Kalen began to pace once more, "As I have already told you, my curiosity if piqued. Since you refuse to teach me of your people and their ways, I have no choice but to learn these things on my own. I ordered the she-elf taken to see how her lover would respond. Predictable. What was a surprise, was his reaction to her death. So strong, yet so weak."
He stopped to take a breath and see what effect his words had on the elf prince. "I had the other she-elf brought to me for company and entertainment. She resisted. Valiantly I might add. Quite impressive. Do you teach your women to fight?"
Legolas didn’t respond, he would not answer this man’s questions no matter how simple they seemed. His stomach turned at what Kalen was implying.
"She was quite entertaining, I must tell you. So soft and warm." Kalen closed his eyes and took a breath through his nose, a small, sadistic smile on his face. "Yet, that one small act of pleasure seemed to break her almost instantly. Such a sweet girl."
Legolas jumped at the large man, anger seethed within him. He wanted nothing more than to kill this man for the pain that he had caused those three valiant beings. For taking their innocence and choice away from them. If his knee hadn’t buckled under the quick motion and Nolir hadn’t been so quick, he would have put an end to the miserable man’s life.
As it was, Legolas was easily knocked to the floor by the ugly guard. Three other guards burst into the room and subdued the already injured, weakened elf. Two held his legs, one on each, the other two his arms. One arm straight out from his side, the other twisted up behind his back. Nolir placed his knee onto the side of Legolas’ face pressing the other side against cool marble floor. He fought to control the heaving that consumed him once again. Tears sprung to his eyes, clouding his vision, so that everything he could see was blurred and indiscernible.
He vaguely registered that his old wounds were paining him fiercely, the overall misery outweighed the individual discomforts. If he had stopped to focus on each wound, he would have succumbed to unconsciousness long ago.
"I have something I would like to try on you my dear prince." Kalen was speaking again and his voice grated on Legolas’ nerves. "Normally, this would kill a man within a week, but I have high expectations for you."
Legolas couldn’t see what was happening in the room. He could hear shuffling and could feel the guards, holding him down, shift their positions. The elf attempted to struggle, trying to kick his legs and pull his arms away, but he was well overpowered.
A pain, like no other he had ever felt, began to spread over his back, radiating from his right shoulder. It felt as though someone was slowly twisting a knife into his shoulder, digging it deeper and deeper.
Kalen spoke once more. "The venom of the skorpios is extremely lethal for such a small creature. No man has lived longer than seven days after being stung. They have become an extreme nuisance to the salt miners further south. I am curious the effect it will have on an elf. I thank you for agreeing to help us with this little experiment."
"You are a vile, evil man Kalen." Legolas shouted from his pinned position. "You have destroyed three pure, innocent lives and you shall rot for your actions."
"We will see," Kalen responded, a laugh causing his voice to rattle. "Right now, I would worry about myself if I were you."
The burning that followed his words was so extreme that it felt as though someone had placed a torch on Legolas’ shoulder and forgotten it. The sensation began to spread down his back and arm and up his neck. The elf let out a small moan and clamped his eyes shut against the pain.
Then the convulsing began. His body seemed not his own as the poison spread through it causing the elf to jerk and buck involuntarily. Legolas fought the unnatural motion, he tensed his muscles in an attempt to control the spasms. He battled the physical attack mentally by talking soothingly to himself, completely unaware of those surrounding him. He knew not how long the fight had lasted, but when the major convulsing had stopped and his body had eased into a steady tremble, Legolas was exhausted.
His deep breathing was all he could hear as it echoed within his head. His eyes clenched shut, the only sight he could see was the blood pulsing beneath his eyelids. He sensed those around him moving but cared not for what they did or said.
"Take him back to the box Nolir. We will check on his progress shortly." Kalen commanded and then turned to leave the room.
Legolas felt the guard pull him to his feet and wrap and arm around his waist. He was then half dragged, half carried back to the sweatbox where he was once again left in the dark to fight off the demons that taunted him."WAKE UP!" He was shouting both at himself and at the still elf. But he knew that it would have no effect. He was wide awake, in a living nightmare and Lómëdil would never wake again.