Chapter Three

After Hatch had walked away, Pickett handed a crudely made cup full of water to Legolas and then one to Aragorn. After securing the padlocks to their tiny prisons, he took up his guard duty as before. He didn’t really dislike these two, especially the one with the deformed ears, the way he usually did the other captives that had been brought to the camp. But even he realized that they could get him into deep trouble with Hatch, if he showed them even a hint of friendly attention. Picked on or not, he knew which side he was on.

Legolas and Aragorn looked at each other. They needed to find a way to communicate without letting any of these beasts know they were doing it. What they said could be covered by speaking Sindarin. It was the fact that they were talking at all that had to be kept a secret. Pickett’s brain may not be of the highest quality, but there was nothing wrong with his ears.

Those ears were almost eight feet above the ground. Pickett also stood several feet in front of the cages. At the same time, Legolas and Aragorn were sitting down. Despite all of that, talking between themselves would be difficult. If Pickett heard them and turned to hush them, Hatch, or one of the other trolls, would surely be alerted.

The two friends looked at each other, and then Legolas had an idea. He gave Aragorn a knowing look and then began to hum. At first, that’s all he did, waiting to see what Pickett’s reaction would be. If the troll made him stop, the elf’s idea would fall apart. When he saw that the troll had merely looked at him and then turned back around, he knew he had found the method of communication he and Aragorn needed.

It wasn’t until Aragorn saw Legolas motion toward his mouth and then point at him that the man understood what his friend had in mind.

The song was a familiar one to the ranger, so he began to speak softly in Sindarin in a way that blended with the melody. "How long do you think they’ll wait before they start their little games?"

Smiling that Aragorn had understood, Legolas waited until Aragorn took up the melody before replying, "Midnight would be my guess."

Legolas looked at Pickett again for any sign that the creature suspected anything. The troll, to Legolas’s surprise, was slowly moving his head from side to side. He didn’t seem to know what was going on. To him it was merely a sweet sound the two were making that he had never heard before. Trolls didn’t make music.

Pleased that they would evidently be allowed to continue, Legolas said, "Getting out of here is not going to be easy. There are at least twenty-five trolls in this camp."

The elf took up the humming again, as Aragorn said, "That makes the odds about even, I would say."

"Be serious, Estel," Legolas said rather loudly before the man could begin his turn at humming.

After a moment of startled silence, Aragorn did resume the melody, and Legolas finished his say. "We are not talking about orcs here. Trolls are far more dangerous."

"I know." Aragorn’s tone was no longer flip. "But we have no one to help us, so we have to believe the odds, if not in our favor, at least not too badly against us. Otherwise there would be no chance for us."

Legolas nodded at those words but felt the need to make another point, though he didn’t think it was anything Aragorn hadn’t already thought of. "We must not only free ourselves but get our horses and our weapons back, as well."

"Since we don’t know what they have planned, we can’t really make any definite plans. We have to wait and see what comes up and decide on something whenever the opportunity presents itself."

"We may need to make an instant decision."

"I think we’ll be ready," Aragorn said and then took another drink of his water before setting the half-full cup down on the ground beside him. "We’d better save what water we have left. It’s a long time until midnight, and I don’t want to run out too soon. I doubt they’ll give us any more."

Legolas, who had already come to the same conclusion, nodded.

"We might as well get some rest," Aragorn said, effectively ending the musical discussion.

The man curled up on his side, resting his head on his folded arm, and stared out toward the camp. He made a mental note of the physical layout before him. He paid no attention to the trolls themselves. After memorizing the camp and everything in it, Aragorn closed his eyes and went to sleep.

Legolas knew that he would need every bit of his strength, if he was going to successfully defend himself and possibly his friend, so he lay down flat on his back diagonally so he could fully stretch out. Placing his hands across his stomach, he was soon treading the paths of elven dreams.

*~*~*~*

Legolas and Aragorn were abruptly awakened when two trolls noisily approached the cages. The doors were opened, and huge hands reached in and roughly pulled them to their feet. "It’s time," the troll rousing Aragorn said. He laughed. "We’re gonna have some fun with you two."

Legolas fought the urge to hit the troll who was grabbing him by the ankle and yanking him out the door. The elf fought to gain his feet and tried not to show the pain he felt from the iron grip now on his left forearm. He knew there would be sore, bruised places where the troll’s fingers dug into his skin. However, it wasn’t the pain or the impending bruises that angered the elf. It was the idea of being handled in such a rough way by this disgusting creature. But then trolls were not known for their manners. Legolas also knew that before long, bruises were probably going to be the least of his pains.

Once out of their cages, the two captives were pushed forward toward the large fire in the center of the camp. Hatch was there along with every troll in the band, including Pickett, who was following. In the flickering firelight, their faces took on the look of creatures born of nightmares.

When Legolas and Aragorn reached Hatch, they were stopped. "Now you’ll see what we do to those who cross our territory," was all the troll leader said at first. There was a wicked look in his dark eyes.

Aragorn had seen the same look in the eyes of wargs just before they attacked. It bordered on bloodlust.

"Take off yer clothes."

Legolas blinked. He hadn’t known what to expect, but it definitely wasn’t this. If it weren’t for the fact that these were trolls, who, despite their reference to fun, had absolutely no sense of genuine humor, he would have thought it was a joke.

"They’re serious," Aragorn remarked, as surprised as Legolas.

Hatch sneered. "Now!"

Legolas and Aragorn looked at each other and then began to undress. They did it slowly, hoping the trolls would change their minds and stop them before they had shed all of their clothes.

No such order to stop came, however, when Hatch saw the gold chain Aragorn was wearing around his neck, his eyes lit up and a greedy grin appeared on his ugly face.

The gold medallion was a tiny image of the Last Homely House, complete with waterfall. Lord Elrond had given it to his foster son as a remembrance of his home just before the man had left Imladris to join the rangers for the first time.

The troll leader grasped the chain and then ripped it off of Aragorn’s neck, breaking the clasp.

Legolas saw the anger rising on Aragorn’s face and put his hand on the ranger’s arm to stay him from trying to take the necklace back. "Easy, Estel. There will be time to get it back later," he whispered in Sindarin. He could feel the ranger’s tense muscles under his hand and gripped his friend’s arm a little tighter.

It took Aragorn a moment to realize that Legolas was right. Causing a stir now would only get him and Legolas into more trouble than was already coming their way.

Now there was one more thing they had to get back from these disgusting creatures before they left this place.

Hatch stared at the gold medallion lying in his hand, as it sparkled in the firelight, before shoving it into one of his pockets. He squinted at Legolas. "You got one like that somewhere?"

"No," the elf barked emphatically.

Hatch motioned toward the two friends. "Finish takin’ off yer clothes."

Knowing that there would be no further interruptions, Legolas and Aragorn were soon standing in nothing more than the soft linen undergarment they wore from waist to knee and were prepared to defend having to shed.

By this time, the other trolls had formed a large circle around them and were now beginning to laugh and point at them.

At first, neither elf nor ranger was sure why, until it dawned on Aragorn that it was the fact they had smooth, hair-free chests. The trolls, their entire bodies covered with coarse hair, thought the sight funny.

Aragorn looked down at his well-muscled chest and then at Legolas’s. "I don’t know about you, but I always thought we looked pretty decent."

"I guess it all depends on your point of view," Legolas remarked dryly.

The trolls had seen a number of human captives over the years, but while they certainly hadn’t compared to a troll, the majority of them had all been endowed with various degrees of chest hair.

After another round of laughter, Hatch held up his hand. "Enough." There was instant silence. He was evidently willing to let the captives keep their short pants, as he deemed them to be. He turned and motioned to a troll standing off to one side. He was the one who had Aragorn’s sword, which he proudly wore in his belt. He also had two ropes, each about six feet long, which he handed to Hatch.

Aragorn frowned, not having any idea what the trolls had planned for them, though he was sure it wasn’t going to be pleasant. "What are the ropes for?"

"You’ll see soon enough," Hatch sneered.

The troll leader twirled the ropes in opposite directions, laughing as he did so. When he stopped, he glared at Aragorn with narrowed eyes.

There were two trolls, who now stood back to back in the center of the large circle. Hatch walked over and tied one end of one rope around Aragorn’s left wrist and handed the other end to one of the two trolls. He repeated the maneuver with Legolas, separating him from the ranger. Neither of the two captives could see each other past the huge creatures holding their ropes.

Hatch stood back and watched with gleeful anticipation, as did the other huge creatures.

Even if Legolas and Aragorn had entertained thoughts of escape right then, there would have been no way to break through.

Four other trolls opposite each other in the circle held a type of whip, consisting of several leather straps five feet long and woven at one end to form a handle. Expertly used the multi-tailed whip could inflict severe damage. In the hands of these powerful creatures, such damage was a given. Death was also a distinct possibility.

The trolls holding the ropes began to turn, forcing Legolas and Aragorn to swing in a circle at the end of the ropes, which were kept taught by centrifugal force.

Legolas and Aragorn were each struck with a whip as they passed a troll wielding one. They both tried to dodge the blows, and in the beginning, succeeded to a certain extent, but the creatures were turning fast enough to keep the archer and the ranger from gaining any slack. It was all they could do to stay on their feet.

All the trolls that were not directly involved in the ‘game’ raised their fists in the air and shouted each time a whip met flesh. There were a lot of shouts.

The two friends were hit four times with every complete loop they made around the circle. Most of the blows struck their backs, but several times one or more of the straps managed to curl around and strike their sides and chests.

A few of the blows that rained down on the two captives were glancing ones, but even so blood was drawn and painful welts appeared.

One troll took particular pleasure in hitting Legolas across his neck each time the elf passed. It didn’t take long to open up a deep laceration, causing blood to trickle down onto Legolas’s chest. More strikes to like those could open up the artery in his neck, and he could bleed to death in very short order. The elf did his best to cover the area with his free hand.

The move worked, because the troll became discouraged and resumed aiming for the elf’s back with renewed vigor.

After a few minutes, the trolls stopped. The two holding the ropes had been spinning in place and had become so dizzy they needed to be replaced.

When the rope became slack, Aragorn bent forward, his hands resting on his knees. He was breathing heavily and every inch of his exposed flesh stung viciously.

Legolas, stronger and more able to take the abuse was afraid that what he was about to say would upset Aragorn, but in his own mind, his first priority was to protect his friend as best he could, regardless of what that friend thought about his method. "My brother is weak, more so than most humans. He can’t take this kind of punishment. He’ll die on you, if you continue. Where is the fun in that?"

Legolas would have been surprised to know that the man didn’t care that Legolas had called him weak. Whatever it took to stop this torture was all right with him. He hated to admit it, even to himself, but he was well aware of the fact that he would give out before the elf did. He was, however, not willing to let Legolas take all of the abuse, even if sharing it did not lesson it for either of them.

"Beg some more," Hatch goaded.

The word beg was not in the archer’s vocabulary. He would never beg this hideous creature for anything. Of course, he hadn’t heard the phrase ‘never say never’.

By then two fresh trolls held the ropes. When Legolas remained silent, Hatch motioned for the new trolls to start turning. He jerked Aragorn to his feet just as the rope became taught again. Legolas was swung so forcefully he had to double-step to keep from going down.

Several minutes later, both elf and ranger were down and being dragged.

Hatch yelled for the trolls to stop. Neither captive moved, and Hatch thought they were both unconscious. He went over and kicked each one.

There was no response.

TBC