𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒 | 𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐟

𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲

LEGOLAS

Legolas pulled on one of his braids as he stared forwards, the nervous habit that had appeared ever since he was separated from Y/N controlling his movements. And even though he could see for kilometres on end, he couldn't see her.

He was so terrified of living without her that he'd become a nervous wreck in the couple of days that had passed since the Battle of Helm's Deep, as they made their way to Isengard.

"I should've done something," he hissed, annoyed at himself as he tugged his braids again. "I should've saved her."

"We both know nothing could've stopped Y/N from making her decision."

The speaker of the true words was Aragorn, and Legolas noted concernedly how awful he looked. He'd gotten no sleep since they'd discovered Y/N missing, so his eyes were hooded and shadowed. He walked slowly, trudging along like there was no point in going forward.

To put it simply, Isildur's Heir looked even worse than Legolas was sure he did.

"I just wish I could've gotten to her," Legolas muttered, curling his hands into fists.

"So do I," Aragorn added. "You know she is a sister to me - and that living without her, not knowing where she is or if she's alright ... it's killing me."

Legolas felt just as hopeless as his friend did, but he clapped Aragorn on the shoulder, reassuring, "We have to trust that Y/N knows what she's doing. She's incredible, and she'll be okay. We just need to find her."

"That lass is pretty smart," Gimli added. "She won't need us to save her, I promise you that."

The blond ellon smiled weakly, hoping fervently that the Dwarf's words were true.

Y/N

You rubbed your forehead, wincing as several of the areas your hand passed over throbbed eagerly.

This was the fifth time that Grima Wormtongue had sent his damn Orc minions after you instead of taking on the dirty work himself, and you were unsure of how much longer you could hold on for.

However, the last time the Orcs had come in, they had been the ones to make a mistake. You suspected that Saruman would not be punishing you as much because he wanted to make sure he could get the maximum ransom from your people, and he had left a full plate of food in the cell instead of the mouldy bread.

You'd enjoyed the food, but that was besides the point. They'd left a plate. The closest you'd come to a weapon in ... actually, you didn't know how long you'd been in the cell for. It had never seemed useful to count the dragging days, and even if you wanted to, it was difficult with no sunlight and random food deliveries. You hadn't slept in a while, and you were exhausted and pained, but you were going to get out of this.

Footsteps outside the door.

You rushed to your hiding place, behind where the door would open, the cracked plate held in your slightly shaking hands. You were terrified that this wouldn't work, but you had to get out of this awful cell somehow.

The door began to creak open slowly, almost like it was afraid of opening. One of the Uruk-hai snarled something in the Black Speech, though its tone was confused, not harsh.

"Incompetent vermin." Wormtongue. "What do you mean, 'the girl's not there'?"

You saw a black boot pass the door, then another. Wormtongue was just steps in front of you.

There was no longer time for subtlety.

You stepped out, clocking him over the head with the plate. It shattered over his skull, the sharp, dirty shards cutting leaking red lines into his skin. He groaned, falling to the floor in a state of unconsciousness.

You took two shards from the floor, throwing them like daggers into the hearts of the two Orcs who had come to torture you again. You didn't expect it to work, but they both fell, revealing a dark, grimy passage.

The way out.

You got to your feet, feeling your head spin as you held a hand to it. Your fingers came away slick with ugly red blood - the old injury was reopened every time the Uruk-hai threw you against the wall (which was often).

You ran as quickly as you could (though that wasn't very fast anymore), leaping over the bodies of the Orcs and stealing a sword each from both.

The passage led to flight upon flight of stairs, which you scaled unsteadily to an open black chamber.

You were in Isengard. Which meant ...

"Queen Y/N Y/L/N."

"You have no right to refer to me by that name," you snarled, though slightly weakly, turning to face the Wizard upon the throne central to the room.

"That name will be dead soon," Saruman declared. "And you have no training nor right to inherit such a title."

Every one of his words hurt just as much as all the injuries on your body from which blood dripping ominously. He truly had the tongue of a snake - using his words like venom and targeting all the places you were weakest.

"No," you shook your head, taking a step forward. "I am the Queen of my people. And I do not bow nor listen to an ally of Sauron!"

"What a bold accusation," the old Wizard laughed. "You Dunedain, always believing yourselves to be superior and powerful, thinking you know everything ..."

"Bold words from one who is describing himself," you managed to retort, though your bravado was little more than acting. You could feel your strength leeching from you, and you weren't sure if you could even stand for much longer.

Saruman's face twisted in a displeased way. "I was going to deliver you to your people for their alliance ... but there are other ways to convince those simple-minded Dunedain. I would much rather kill you."

You fell onto one of your knees with a pained whimper, holding a hand to a thick slash across your stomach from the Orcs' fourth 'visit'.

It took every last molecule of your strength to spit out, "You can try."

"Oh, I fully intend to."

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