Hood » LotR ((ON HOLD))

Chapter Twenty-Five: How the Tables Turn

They made camp beyond the city, hidden by dunes and brush.

Gimli paced back and forth, muttering under his breath. Finishing tending to Elanor's bandages, Legolas stood. He stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on the dwarf's shoulder.

Gimli stopped, looking up. Legolas forced a smile.

"Estel will be fine. Trust me, mellon-nin, I can think of nothing that could become his undoing."

"The Easterlings might be a good start," Thralor muttered. The dwarf ran a whetstone over his axe, a scowl permanently fixed on his face. His mood had only turned worse as the days went on. All of theirs had.

But despite it, Legolas forced himself to stay calm.

"He'll hold out until we figure out a plan."

"Legolas is right," Elanor said. Her face was pale, but determined. The spear that had caught her during the desert battle hadn't cut deep, thankfully. Still, it was taking its time healing. "It's Aria I'm worried about. She shouldn't have changed. They know about her now."

"We might have lost a lot more if she hadn't."

The woman dropped her eyes.

Gimli pulled away, continuing to pace. Legolas fixed his eyes on the city beyond, glowing orange in the horizon. He straightened as he spotted two figures moving over the stand toward them; two figures cloaked and hooded.

Breaking from the group, he hurried to greet them.

"Elladan, Elrohir."

Elladan pushed down his hood, dark hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. Elrohir did the same, groaning. "Valar, it's hot."

"What did you find?"

"We didn't hear anything about special prisoners," Elladan said. "They must have been brought in as slaves, not hostages."

Elanor came behind them, catching the last few words. Relief flooded her eyes. "At least we know Aragorn's identity wasn't realized."

Legolas nodded. When Robin had botched the fight to help him escape, he'd managed to track down the rest of the group. They'd given Elanor some time to heal, then had gotten out of the forest.

Legolas hadn't liked it back there— he'd constantly felt like they were being watched. Like there was a third party that he couldn't see.

"There has to be a system of sorts," Elanor said. "Somewhere they'd be taken."

"There were plenty of merchants. The market was crowded traders and natives of all sorts." Elrohir exchanged a look with his twin. "There was a betting stand too. For some fighting arena located in the middle of the city."

That caught his interest. Legolas tilted his head. "The Pits?"

Elrohir nodded.

"Hood mentioned a system of fighting. If the slave-traders would get anything out of their strengths, it would be fighting."

Elanor's face paled. "You said he was wounded."

Legolas clenched his jaw.

Turning, he started up the hill, the others on his heels. Gimli came to a stop as he saw them, lips forming a tight line under his red beard.

"By Durin's beard, tell me you bear good news."

"They'll be fighters in the arena," Legolas said. "If they haven't been pitted yet, it'll be coming at some point. We need to get into the city."