𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐬 ➵︎ [ 𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘧 ]

66| a broken spirit

This chapter is dedicated to Aika_san_reads! I cannot thank you enough for all your comments, reading them really makes my entire day, and I can't wait for you to see what else I have planned!!

This chapter is a bit of a long one, and i hope you all enjoy. let me know what u think :)

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Sitting in that tent was borderline excruciating. Seconds, minutes or perhaps even hours passed by, and there I was sitting there under Tirwald's watchful gaze, wrists bound, unable to do anything.

Unable to seek out Maeglor, unable to finish what I had started, unable to help, just as I had always despised.

Unable to stop thinking about Legolas. The way my name sounded on his lips ate away at my mind.

Something about what he had uttered to Tirwald chipped off a piece of my heart. Perhaps it was what he said, namely, the use of past tense to reference our relationship, if you could even call it that. Perhaps it was the way he said it—laden with regret, and yet...resolution, as if knowing; acknowledging that our relationship was truly a figment of the past, a product of nothing but similar experiences and chance.

It was just two words, but they never left my mind, circling my thoughts and gnawing into my heartstrings, no matter how hard I tried to force it out.

"You're unusually sullen."

Tirwald's gravelly voice drew my attention. I glanced up from the floor to see him raise a bushy eyebrow. 

"You two must have been close, right?" He observed, an almost undetectable smirk on his lips.

I just averted my gaze, not bothered to offer up any sort of comeback.

"What does it matter now?" I muttered, trying to ignore the vast emptiness I could feel expanding within my ribcage.

Tirwald just scoffed, crossing his arms

"Your response answers for itself. You weren't just friends, were you?"

I sighed, looking back up to meet his gaze.

"You were ordered to watch me, not talk to me."

This time the smirk was more noticeable, but he sat back down nevertheless, the tent settling back into silence. That was until I heard a voice from outside call Tirwald's name.

Tirwald's brows furrowed as he turned.

"Tirwald, you must come for a minute!" The voice called.

Tirwald turned back to me with a scowl on his expression. Sending me a pointed glare, as if to warn me not to try anything, he stood to his feet, before turning and exiting the tent. I could hear his voice not too far away, conversing with another man.

Finally.

Leaning my head back as far as I could, I drew my bound wrists upwards, ignoring the pain until I could feel my fingers make contact with the hairpiece still clipped in my black locks. Straining just a little further, a small smile broke across my lips as my fingers managed to catch the metal pin. My hair fell to my shoulders as I pulled out the hairpiece.

With a press of the stone, I heard the unmistakable sound of the small blade shooting out and popping into place. Carefully, I turned the blade in my fingertips, positioning it so that the blade sat against the rope. Slowly but surely, I began to move my wrists back and forth, careful to avoid cutting my own skin as I felt the wicked sharp edge of the blade slicing through the fibres of the rope behind my back.