Chapter 8
Legolas had been in the dark, the wounds he had inflicted on himself aching painfully despite the herbs he had put on them. Now, his entire stomach was covered in little crisscrossing cuts among the larger ones from the first day. Though they were small, they stung painfully. His shoulder had also begun to throb again. And, of course, this stupid blackness wasn't helping either.
The darkness had reached his head, he thought. In his mind he had been there for weeks, but last time Cyras had come to get him he had so kindly informed him that only a day had passed since last time. It seemed that they would confront one another once a day. But today, he decided, he would be strong. He would not let the black hate around him reach his own heart and destroy it. The door creaked open.
O:o:O
"Third day," Cyras began as he tethered Legolas to the post in the center of the yard which stood cold and desolate.
Legolas shuddered as Cyras spoke about how the third day was so important. He looked up at the cloudy sky and back down at the pale grass beneath his feet, which was dying in the darkness of the place. As he began to shiver slightly, he noted that Cyras was wearing extra layers to provide warmth. But he was an elf, he should not feel the cold.
Cyras chuckled at his captives shuddering form.
"Your wounds are affecting you more than you realize," he said, grinning. "Especially because of the poison. It is the reason for all your troubles," he said cryptically.
Legolas stared at Cyras defiantly.
"I shall survive anything you throw at me," he said, spitting near Cyras's feet. "It is not even worth you trying." Cyras just smiled.
"Anything, you say?" he said, placing a hand thoughtfully on his chin. "Oh princeling, I created today's lesson especially to prove you wrong."
He picked up the orb and brought it so that it was touching his forehead. Legolas frowned. He had never had to do that before.
Suddenly, as if in a flood, the colors and objects around him flowed away, and they were replaced by new ones. He was spun around, eventually landing down in the same place was more, but when it was more alive. He stayed suspended in the air, watching the action unfold.
Oh no, he thought desperately, staggering backward and putting a hand over his mouth in horror. No, it can't be!
Men bustled around a small, dirtied elfling as he was lead down the narrow hallway by his collar, shooting him disgusted looks. The young elf grabbed at the skirts of the elleth marching in silence in front of him for comfort, then he reached for her hand.
"Hands off, elf!" the man behind him barked, and slapped his hand away from his mother's. The little blonde creature of the woods whimpered in fear, and the elleth glared daggers at the man who had hurt her only child.
This can't be happening, Legolas thought desperately, trying to close his eyes but realizing that he physically could not. This is not real.
The pair was lead into the courtyard, and their collars were tied to the poll. The glee of the men standing around eagerly watching was as sickening as it had been at the time.
The little elfling cowered behind the tall elleth, who looked evenly into the eyes of her captor as he stared at her with the coldest green eyes that a man could have.
"My, my," he said, coming close to her. "What shall we do today?"
Legolas's breath hitched. The fatal mistake was coming...
"If you would just face Nana in a fair fight instead of torturing her like a coward, she could easily beat you!" the elfling yelled at the man, trying to look brave like his father would have.
"Legolas," his mother said warningly, and he realized he had said something wrong. He hid behind her once again.
"She could, could she?" the man chuckled. "Alright, that can be today's activity." He turned to the surrounding men. "It shall be a contest of fighting ability between the she-elf and me!"
He walked over to where the elfling was cowering behind his mother, grabbing a handful of his hair and wrenching him off the ground.
"And the little one shall be the prize!"
The men cheered enthusiastically, and on his Nana's face was an expression of horror.
Legolas scanned the crowd and caught sight of one of the "men", wearing a cloak, slipping away from the group. That was the Mirkwood elf Cirieth, who had been his savior.
If only he had left a day earlier, Legolas thought. Turning back to the man and elves, he shuddered. He knew what was coming next.
Veritinan tossed Lathuina her weapons, a graceful curved bow and quiver, and two long white knives.
Legolas began to panic. He could not go through this again!
Suddenly, he was no longer a spectator from above. He was there, in his younger self's body, as he watched his mother's eyes go steely. He no longer had the mind of his older self, but of the five hundred-year-old who was struggling to understand what was going on.
Lathuina fastened the strap on her quiver and attached her knives onto her back, where they belonged. She glanced at her son and gave him a small smile. He had barely had time to return it before she was facing the man again.
He knew his Nana could win.
'When Nana is done, maybe we can go home again!' he thought, grinning inside at the prospect. 'We can see Ada! I hope he is not too worried.'
Suddenly, the fight had begun. His naneth had made the first blow with both of her knives, which Veritinan had deflected with a flick of his sword. The clashing of metal filled the clearing, as well as the cheering of the audience.
None of them seemed to be voting for his naneth, which confused him. She was much nicer than Veritinan. Why did they want him to win?
"Bad, Nana! Im savin suff!" /Go, Nana! I believe in you!/ he called, putting his small hands around his mouth to amplify the sound. His mother smiled between parries and he knew she had heard.
The fight lasted a long time in the mind of a little elfling. There were too many blows, and it was all going too fast for him to really understand what was going on. Who was in the lead? He had lost track a long time ago. Completely assured that his mother would emerge victorious, he put his hand on the grass and began to twiddle with it.
He glanced up.
Suddenly, everything was moving super slowly. His mother's knife flew out of her right hand, and Legolas noticed the spots of blood on her dress from previous wounds that had begun to bleed again. Her body was weakened by them.
Veritinan took advantage of the moment of surprise, and plunged his blade into her stomach.
Legolas screamed.
The man pulled the sword from her body, grinning in triumph as she crumpled to the ground. He held up the blade, which was dripping silvery blood, and the crowd cheered enthusiastically. Legolas, in a sudden burst of strength, ripped the collar off his neck and ran toward his mother.
"Ah, the little one!" Veritinan said, grabbing Legolas by his shirt and holding him up, looking into his eyes. "You are mine now, princeling!"
Legolas screamed again and smashed his foot into his captor's face. He heard a crack, and blood began gushing from the man's nose. He cursed violently and dropped Legolas on the ground. He quickly regained his footing and scrambled over to his mother.
"Nana!" he said, grabbing her hand. "Nana!"
"Greenleaf..." she murmured switching to elvish unconsciously, blood trickling past her lips. "I love you, penneth..."
"Nana!" Legolas replied in the same language, tears running down his face. "Nana, I'm sorry! It's my fault that you got hurt!"
His Naneth smiled gently, looking up at him with pain-filled eyes.
"It isn't your fault, little one," she said, her voice becoming raspy. "It is his..."
"Nana, you have to be okay!" Legolas said, clutching her hand. "I will bring you back to Ada, and the healers will make you all okay again!"
"No, Greenleaf..." she gasped. "My time has come..."
"No, Nana!" Legolas said, not really knowing what she meant. "Nana, you are going to be healed. I will make sure it happens, Nana!"
"Listen to the trees, penneth..." she said, closing her eyes and touching the earth that was soaked with her own blood. The roots of the trees under her spoke soothingly, and Legolas listened for a minute. Suddenly, they were all silent, and it was just him and his mother again.
"Legolas," his mother breathed, wiping the tears off his face from where she laid on the ground. "I love you, Greenleaf. I love you so much..."
"Nana!" he said, grabbing one of her hands in both of his. Her eyes began to slide shut. "NANA!"
The breath left her with a small gasp, and she didn't breathe in again.
Her eyes closed.
"NANA!" Legolas screamed, tears running down his face anew. "Nana, what's wrong? Nana, wake up! NANA!"
A hand grabbed him from behind, and he began to thrash around, screaming. The grip doubled, and more men came and grabbed his arms and legs, which were covered in the blood of his naneth, and they held him still. He still did not stop screaming, even as they carried him thus to his cell.
He was alone.
O:o:O
A day later, the door opened with a jolt. Legolas didn't even look up, but remained where he was, curled on his side, facing away from it.
"Ion-nin?" a familiar voice said, and he heard a pair of feet rushing towards him. There was a figure kneeling before him, and he cupped Legolas's cheek in his hand.
"Oh, Legolas..." the figure—his Ada—said mournfully. "Oh, penneth, what have they done to you? Where is your naneth?"
"I...I don't know..." Legolas said quietly, looking up. Tears sprung into his eyes, and began to roll down his pale cheeks.
"I don't know where she went, Ada!" he said, flinging himself into his Ada's arms. "She said...she said that it was her time...and we listened to the trees, and...I kicked him, because he grabbed me...she wouldn't wake up..." he said, sobbing into his Ada's tunic.
"Make her come back, Ada!" he yelled. "Make her come back for me!" He broke into sobs once again.
"It's my fault, Ada. It's my fault. It's my fault..."
He repeated the phrase over and over, even as his father picked him up and told his soldiers to check the remaining rooms. He only knew one thing.
It was all his fault.
A/N: OH NO!
Also, is it just me, or is "Bad, Nana! Im savin suff!" the weirdest elvish phrase ever?