TITLE: Nothin’ Special: Chapter Seven
PROMPT: #174: Girl (500 words)
AUTHOR: Marethiel/ThinkingLady
RATING: PG-13 (for potentially disturbing images)
DISCLAIMER: Don't own 'em, drat it. I just take ‘em out to play. Many thanks to Professor Tolkien for creating these wonderful souls to populate my imagination.
NOTES: Sequel to Prompt #168: Special
Pain… brutal, bone-wrenching…
The young mortal sank within himself as his conscious mind started to accept a possibility he’d earlier refused to consider: he might not survive this.
He had wracked his brain for hours… even while enduring the continued torture of these fell beasts, struggling to formulate a plan of escape, for his companion if not himself. But his mind was exhausted… as empty and drained as his ideas.
Wearily, the young man, little more than a boy by the reckoning of his own people, allowed his head to droop, wincing as the sharp hurt in his arms and shoulders flared when the shackles overhead pulled on already raw skin, stretched muscles. He tried to draw in a breath, but it was more like a sob.
At his side, his own eyes damp with pity and the despair of seeing his young friend suffer so, the Elf drew in his own breath. “Estel… I pray you, do not give up. You have kept faith for us both so far – “
“For … naught… “ the young man whispered. “I… I have tried to think of a way out, but… “ the head shook in negation. “… I cannot. I will … die… here… “
Desperately, the Elf cast his mind through ideas to keep the young mortal’s spirits up. And he hit upon one. How best to couch this? he wondered. In pity? Nay, never! Asking the Valar for forgiveness, the Elf deliberately turned his voice cold and dripping with scorn. “So… this is how much you ‘love’ the Evenstar, is it?”
Silence. Even the boy’s breathing stopped in shock. Slowly his head came up, his grey eyes, though red-rimmed and bruised-looking, pierced the space between himself and Legolas. “What?” he breathed.
“You heard me, Adan,” snapped Legolas, his heart aching but his expression betraying nothing. “The most beautiful and beloved of Elf maidens… you thought yourself good enough for her?! She waits, and for what?!” he hissed. “For a cowardly, good-for-nothing Adan who… who… “
Legolas stopped as the eyes facing him were filled with shock, betrayal, and then shame. I cannot… I cannot do this… “Oh, Estel,” he groaned shaking his head, “forgive me… I cannot do it.”
Confused, deeply hurt, the young man continued to stare in silence.
“I… I thought to… “ Legolas swallowed, a flush filling his sallow face. He sighed. “I thought to use the memory of Arwen to keep you from giving up,” he admitted.
Aragorn did not know what he’d expected, but that was surely not it. Thoroughly surprised, his jaw dropped. “You… you… “ he sputtered. He rattled his shackles, eyes blazing. “I ought to – !”
Screams rent the air outside the cave. The unmistakable thwacks! of arrow hitting flesh, the whistling of broadswords through the air and the satisfying thunk! of blade meeting bone could be heard. Staring at each other in stunned confusion, both Legolas and Aragorn found themselves with a new feeling in their hearts.
Hope.
** to be continued **