The Antagonist [ A lord of the Rings / Legolas Fan-Fic]

Act 20: Free at last

Be Aware: Concepts contained in this chapter include a bleeding scene and violence.

- - -

Loeg Ningloron - Old Ruins - 3rd of October 3018 TA

"The mighty Prince of Mirkwood can't get his bearings," a loud voice scoffed and startled the dwarf who was still hiding behind the rocks "How do you feel? How long are you going to struggle? It has been three days!"

Already his eyes were swollen over and bloody spit drooled from his slack jaws. He was now so revolting as no elf should be. His face still bore congealed blood and his clothes were an utter mess. An eerie sadness had overwhelmed the elf. It was a sadness in his eyes, a heaviness, an unyielding sorrow that slowed his struggles and robbed him of his once easy smile.

Near the campsite of the orcs, the she-dwarf was spying on them. The one in charge, an orc was he, called by the name Shagrat. He had looked at the elf with distaste punishing him for three days now. There was blood everywhere, too much blood. Awarthrie has never seen someone withstand so much pain. It broke her heart leaving her crushed with sorrow and grief.

The blood didn't gush in a constant flow, but in time with the beating. At first it came thick and strong, flowing through his ripped flesh. She watched the blood pour over his body and down the dirty ground, the thick fluid no warmer or cooler than his own skin. After a few moments more the blood was still leaving his rapidly paling flesh, but the pulses were slower, weaker.

For three days she was observing the orcs daily routine. At first she was so angry she wanted to unleash into the camp and save the elf. But even a fool like her, she knew she couldn't save him. The orcs were many in numbers and strong, and she would find her death before even reaching Legolas.

The sun was just starting to set as it was the first time she had calmed down. The orcs had stopped tormenting the elf, and the camp was slowly falling into silence. She had scanned the area all night long and spotted a few things. The dimming light of the cave became darker, that is how she knew it was night time. The elf was hurt, but alive. The camp appeared to be isolated and his weapons were thrown close to the rock she was hiding. His bow and quiver, and even his two white daggers were forgotten in a pile of rusted weapons.

Anxiety thoughts were akin to riding around the block over and over, faster and faster. It was pointless. She had to stop and set a plan. 'You owe it to him to take control of the situation.' She thought, gazing at the elf with distress. She would figure a simple plan, and she just needed the right moment to put it into action. She already estimated that the right time would be by the time night fell, it was when the camp was empty.

The old ruins whispered tales of gallant chivalry, and for those wise words of adventures boldly, they grew all the stronger as the night was getting old. Into the blue air dawn was rising and another day filled with blood and pain was about to start. At the start of the new nightmare that the elf was invited into, beyond the walls of the ruins there they would find some peace.

The next morning, the she-dwarf woke up confused. She looked further down at the cave noticing it being bright again. It was late! Noon at least. She never slept this late, and even if she did, the sound should have woken her. Then she remembered falling asleep on her watch. What was wrong with her? She needed to set the plan and execute it before the orcs, harmed the elf further.

First, she needed to take care of that urgent need and she found a small opening down the rock. After that she ate some of the lembas and drunk some water. She disliked the moments that she ended up taking care of herself as the elf was in such a horrified state. But she would need all her strengths, if she would find a way and aid him. She turned to where Legolas was tied up and noticed him waking up.