Mael-Gûl: 13. Preparations

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13. Preparations

Authors note:
Completely A.U. Legolas slave fic. This story was inspired by Bluegolds story "Bound", which can be found here: http://daemel.freespaces.com/authors.html#blue
I use similar plot ideas here with her permission.
Betareader: Many thanks to Surreysmum, who polished this and made it so much better! She also saved me from some serious embarrassment.
All still remaining errors are my own.
Warnings: Slash. M/m, BDSM, d/s, torture, toys, non-con and debatable consent. Very graphic descriptions. Special warnings for this chapter: none. Please heed the warnings!
Disclaimer: Universe and characters are not mine, but Tolkiens. The idea of the spell, however, belongs to me.

For all other disclaimers and authors notes see Story Intro.


___________________________________


-- Part III: After The Council --


XI. Preparations


The three Mirkwood warriors were relieved to see their prince coming back to them alive and obviously uninjured, yet they were alarmed at his troubled expression. They had packed already; they had planned to leave straight after the midday meal, but when they heard of the private Elven council to decide Mirkwood's punishment and were not allowed to join it, they decided to forsake any further hospitality of Elrond's house.

Instead they took up a silent watch in front of the stairs where the invited Elves had vanished. There they waited for the fate of their prince. They feared for the worst. Seeing him back apparently in good health was reassuring.

“My Lord,” Mitharas said, when Legolas came close, “What happened?”

Legolas shook his head. “Not now!” he commanded. “You are packed? That is well! We'll make a detour to the kitchens to pack supplies. The cook will give us some. Then you must leave immediately. I do not wish any of you to stay in this house one moment longer than absolutely necessary.”

They looked all three at him. He shook his head.

“Not now,” he said again. “Trust me. I'll tell you in the stables. But we have to go now!” And he refused to answer any questions while they went to get supplies.

It took them less than half an hour. Then they went straight to the stables and led their horses out.

They had barely left the stables, though, when they were caught by Elrond and his chief advisor Erestor. The Lord of Imladris was surrounded by five guards with bows.

“Well, well, well,” Elrond said. “Already leaving?”

Legolas bowed respectfully to him. “My Lord,” he said, still taking the role of the representative of his people, “the road is long and my father's messengers have a long way before them. They are eager to bring my father the tidings of this council.”

Elrond raised a brow at him. “Did you tell them of my judgment then, young Thranduilion?” he asked with false mildness.

Legolas bowed his head. He shook with suppressed hatred, yet he forced himself to remain calm. It would not do to attack Elrond now, not with the five armed warriors standing beside him. “Not yet, My Lord.”

Elrond shrugged. “Very well. Then hear it from me. Mirkwood's punishment for Gollum's escape is postponed until this Quest is done. You have Gandalf to thank for that, young Thranduilion, for he convinced me that right now we can't waste our strength with concerns about penance for former failures. In fact, your partaking in this Quest may be enough to pay for Mirkwood's debt in this. Should the Quest be a success and the One Ring be destroyed, I will see this as payment enough to make up for the escape of this prisoner and will not demand any further penance for it of you or your father's realm.”

Legolas took a deep, relieved breath. It was not as good as Glorfindel had prophesied, but it was better than he himself had dared to hope. “Thank you, My Lord,” he said.

Elrond scowled at him. “However,” he snarled, “I would advise you to ensure that this Quest does not fail. Because if it does, I swear to you that I will see your sister enslaved and all your other siblings killed, even if it is the very last thing I do!”

Legolas looked at him, pale and horrified. He felt himself shaking, yet he did not dare to jump forward and attack the other Elf. He knew that Elrond only waited for such an attempt, so he would have an excuse to have him killed – and with him the three warriors behind him. Again, his arm reached out in a quick gesture to hold them back, and to his relief they obeyed him.

Elrond's eyes glittered. “Do you not wish to thank me, Mirkwood spawn?” he sneered.

Legolas swallowed. It took all his willpower to bow, then kneel formally to Imladris' lord. “Thank you, My Lord,” he said with enforced calmness, “I will remember your warning. I will do anything in my power to ensure that this Quest will succeed.”

Elrond still watched him with eyes full of malice and hatred. Finally, when it became clear that neither the slave nor the Mirkwood warriors would be provoked into an attack, his lips thinned and he scowled again. “See to it!” he just said. With a malicious jeer he added: “And remember, I will check on you tomorrow!”

Then he turned around and walked away. Erestor followed him.

So did the five guards.

Very slowly, trembling in hate and fear, Legolas got up again and turned to his kin.

Mitharas stared at him. Bregolas shook with the suppressed urge to attack and kill. Belldoron looked pale and shaken. Mitharas found his voice first.

“What was that,” he managed to ask, “about Her Highness, the princess, and your other siblings?”

Legolas took a deep, shaken breath. “A threat of punishment,” he said, “that he will carry out if the Quest fails. He wished to carry it out much sooner. I failed today, Mitharas. My offer to stand in punishment was denied.”

And he filled them in about the main issues of the private council Elrond had held, the denial of his own offer to stand in penance, since he was now part of the fellowship, and the punishment for Mirkwood Elrond had finally decided on, and that now seemingly had been postponed. He left out the part about the punishment by his master that he would have to face tonight.

From the side of the stable building suddenly a voice spoke in Silvain(1): “It will not come to that.”

Alarmed, Legolas and the three other Elves looked around for the source of the voice. To Legolas' surprise it was Elladan who stepped out of the shadow of the building and strolled over to them. He stepped close to Legolas and sized him up with a considering look.

“Don't worry, Woodelf Princeling,” he said in very broken Silvain. “Father is just furious he did not get his hands on you today. You will do greatly on the Quest, and it will succeed. Estel will see to it!”

Legolas stared at Elrond's oldest son, dumbfounded. He had not even known Elladan spoke Silvain. Estel had made Legolas teach him the language bit by bit after their first visit at his home, and by now he understood and even spoke it well. Maybe Elladan and Elrohir had learned the language in the same way from other Mirkwood slaves. Or they had learned it during their rare visits in his fathers realm during their Orc hunts. But they had never bothered to speak it in his presence. Elrond, as far as he knew, did not speak the language, though. Nor would most of his eavesdroppers.

“Thank you, My Lord,” he answered in the same language. “Yet unfortunately, nothing is certain now. We may yet fail.”

Elladan shrugged. “If the quest fails, we all will have other and more dire concerns. Believe me, if it comes to that, Silivren will be the very last of my fathers worries. Although I do not think that this would be much better for her fate. Mirkwood would be as overrun by Orcs, as would we.” He grinned suddenly. “But I think it will not come to that. As I said, I do not doubt the Quest will be successful. Estel will see it done.” He reached out and touched Legolas' arm.

Legolas suppressed a shiver at his touch. He remembered only too well the time when he had belonged to the twins. They weren't pleasant memories. Still, for the sake of his three warriors, he managed not to flinch.

Elladan smiled at him. “By the way, I was impressed by Estel's performance today. He saved your life, you know. He fought for you like a she-bear for her child,” he teased. “Don't worry, Estel will see the Quest succeed, if only to keep you and your people safe!” He shook his head. “He cares much for you,” he said. “You will guard his back, will you? Because, if you do not and he should fall, you can not come to us.”

Legolas could not stop himself. Angrily he asked: “Are you threatening me, too?”

Elladan shook his head. “No. I am just telling you that we will not save you if he should fall. We would not take you back then. But I know you will not let that happen anyway. You like him too much. As he does you. You are lucky that he is your master.”

Legolas didn't answer. He thought of the punishment that awaited him that night at Estel's hands and couldn't speak.

Yet there was one question he needed to be answered.

With harshly controlled anger he asked: “Elladan. Did you tell your Lord father of my sister?”

He did not know what he would do if Elladan said yes. It would not do to throttle the son of Elrond in the very courtyard of Imladris, yet he doubted he'd be capable of stopping himself.

Elladan raised a brow at his tone. “No, little Woodelf,” he said. “You did so yourself. Or did you think that you and Aragorn remained completely unobserved this morning?” He shrugged casually. “Ironically, father himself overheard you two by chance when he walked past your window. He was livid.”

Legolas paled even more. Elladan shrugged again. “However, father has been intent on getting her for some time. Had he succeeded today in having you killed, he would have demanded her as replacement anyway. What did you think, that your death could have saved her?”

Legolas closed his eyes. He bowed his head. He was very close to breaking at this moment.

Elladan traced his face. “Don't worry so, Pet,” he said lightly. “You will succeed with this mission and save her. Afterwards, Father can hardly demand her anymore. You'll see. It will be well!”

With that he went away. Legolas trembled. After a moment he felt Mitharas' hands closing around his shoulders and lending him support. He opened his eyes again.

They were all shaking with anger. Bregolas said: “My Lord, let me put an arrow into that bastard!”

Legolas shook his head. As tempting as the prospect was, the price would be too high. Regretfully, he said: “No, you can't. For then we all would have to pay for it dearly.”

Bitterly, he turned to them. “Tell father that he has my love and that I will do all I can to make sure this Quest succeeds. Give Silivren my love. Make sure she hides somewhere during this war. Have a safe journey,” he said. “Valar willing, I will see you all again.”

Bregolas scowled. Belldoron and Mitharas looked troubled.

Finally Mitharas spoke. “Have a safe journey, too, My Lord. May the Valar aid you and help you in this Quest.”

Belldoron bowed to him. “May you succeed, my prince,” he said.

Bregolas laid a hand on Legolas shoulder. “You will see it done, captain,” he said fiercely and convinced. “I know you will!”

Legolas gave him a grateful smile. “I'll try to, Bregolas,” he said. “I will represent Mirkwood after all.”

They shared a warrior's embrace, then he saw them off.

Afterwards he went into the wood and searched for an old, strong tree to climb and hide in, where he could calm down and find solace. He found it near one of the waterfalls in one of his favorite places; this old beech had stood here nearly as strong and mighty as it was now when he first came to Rivendell, and it had always given him refuge. He climbed up and found a comfortable place on a thick, inviting branch. And there he huddled himself together, leaning against the big, old, reassuring trunk and finally allowed his fear and hurt to overwhelm him.

There Glorfindel found him later.

________________ o ______________


Legolas was not at the midday meal. In fact, Aragorn saw nothing more of him for the whole day. Aragorn occupied himself with preparations for the start of their journey next day, and with planning and many discussions with Elrond and Gandalf, and finally, when he went to his rooms, with the preparation of both their packs.

Yet Legolas was not at their rooms, either.

When Legolas failed to turn up for the evening meal, too, Aragorn began to worry.

He contemplated the ominously empty seat beside him that he earlier had reserved for his slave, his mood rapidly darkening. Legolas had been very troubled when he left. Aragorn did not really believe that he would try to flee, or harm himself, since he would never risk more punishment to his people or his fellow hostages, but still...

When the meal drew to a close, Aragorn was ready to jump up and leave in search for his missing Elf. He was prevented by Elladan settling himself down beside him.

“Stop worrying so, Estel,” he teased, “Your Woodelf pet left this afternoon for the wood. He is probably just busy saying his farewells to every single tree.”

Elrohir settled himself on his other side. “Besides, father told him this afternoon that Mirkwood's punishment is postponed. He uttered some threats, of course, but that's just father. Your pet knows that the threat to his precious sister is averted for the time being.”

“And Glorfindel went to talk to him,” Elladan added. “So relax and stop worrying. Your pet will show up at the time you demanded.”

Aragorn looked at them, narrowing his eyes. “Thank you,” he offered carefully and with reserve. Then he added in a less friendly tone: “What do you want?”

The older of the twins, Elladan, wrinkled his brows. “You hurt us, Estel!” he said theatrically, “Do we have to want something to talk to you?”

Aragorn merely raised a brow. Elrohir gave in. “We wondered, when you work on him tonight, if you would let us watch?” he asked. Elladan added on his other side: “Or maybe even participate?”

Aragorn balled his fists. He gave the older twin an angry stare.”No, I will not.” he said, then added angrily: “Did father sent you to ask me this?”

Elladan quirked a brow. Elrohir shook his head. “He didn't,” he said, “and he wouldn't approve of our request anyway. He thinks we like your pet too well. He's right, by the way. We do.”

Elladan added: “Legolas is exquisite. It is a shame that you do not share him with us anymore as you once used to do. We had good times, all three enjoying him together.”

Elrohir smiled. “A few times he even seemed to enjoy it too.”

Aragorn growled. “I do not plan to share him with you anymore,” he said, “especially since you nearly let him die this time when I was away in Bree. What were you thinking? You had to know that father would not give a damn if he lived or died. Or rather, that he would let him die, as I understand now.”

Elladan sighed. “Peace,” he said, “we had no intention to letting him die. We thought you would return sooner, just in time for him to be all desperate and needy for you. And Legolas agreed.”

“We do not wish him harm,” Elrohir added. “Unlike father, we both do like your pet. You know that, Estel.”

Aragorn forced himself to calm down. After all it was just Elrohir and Elladan, acting like he had always known them. They were just their usual charming selves. He should be used to them by now.

But he had spent too much time apart from them, and in moments like these he felt every single year.

With enforced calmness he said: “I will not let you watch or participate tonight. Nor anybody else. I plan to make this private, and I will not let anybody interfere. Not you nor Lord Elrond or anybody he might wish to appoint. This matter is mine.”

Elladan nodded graciously, and Elrohir bowed his head at him in acknowledgment. “Very well,” he said, “just be aware that there surely will be listeners tonight. And father will surely check on Legolas tomorrow. You can not afford to be too gentle,” he warned.

Elladan added: “Father is out for your pet's blood. He wants to see him killed.”

Aragorn looked grimly to the top of he table, where Elrond, Gandalf, Erestor and Galdor were caught in a lively discussion. He himself had chosen a seat farther down, close to the Hobbits, in the hope that Legolas would join him there once he showed up. Luckily, the eager chatter of Merry and Pippin with Boromir covered his own quiet conversation with Elrond's twins. He did not care to have it overheard, since he knew that Frodo, at least, understood the Elven language.“I am aware of that,” he said quietly.

Then he looked back at the twins. He had an idea. “Would you do me a favor?” he asked.

Elrohir rose a brow at him. “In spite of your lack of hospitality?” he asked with faked reservation. Elladan gave his twin a censuring look. “What is it, Estel?” he asked. “What can we do for you?”

Aragorn smiled at them. “Secure some extra Lembas(2),” he asked. “It is well that Legolas missed all his meals today, considering what waits for him tonight, but tomorrow he will be all the more direly in need of nourishment. I would have an extra portion for him to nibble on our way.”

Both twins smiled. “Will do!” Elladan assured him. “And we will get you some Miruvor(3), too. You can feed your pet right while you travel.”

“And maybe, when the two of you come back, you can rethink our request,” Elrohir added. “Maybe you will be more willing to share your pet with us for a night or two again when it's just about fun.”

Aragorn just looked at them. “Maybe,” he said. In his own mind, he added: 'When it snows in Harad(4),' but he did not say that aloud.

They laughed at his expression. To his relief, they left him then, and he could finish his meal and go to his chambers.

To his disappointment, his slave still wasn't there. He occupied himself with preparations for the night, yet his mood did not improve by the waiting. It was well over an hour after the evening meal when Legolas finally showed up, and by that time Aragorn was thoroughly angry.

_____________________ o _______________


-- TBC --


Notes:

1) Silvain, the language of the Wood Elves or Green Elves, is one of the three Elven languages that were still in use in Middle Earth at the time of the Ring Quest. The commonly used Elvish was Sindarin, the language of the Grey Elves. Quenya, the language of the High Elves who had seen Valinor, was not in common use anymore, but merely a language of the books, a kind of „Elven Latin“. Silvain, however, was at that time a dying language, slowly being replaced by Sindarin, and was still spoken only in Mirkwood. Therefore it was a way for the Mirkwood Elves to talk in a language the common Elves of Rivendell and of Lothlorien wouldn't understand. Or so they thought at least.

2) Lembas: Elven way-bread, much more nourishing than any bread of men, and easy on the stomach, too. Unfortunately, it is also much more precious than normal bread and held nearly sacred by the Elves, and therefore it is not easy to obtain.

3) Miruvor: Elven cordial.

4) Harad is a land far in the south of Middle Earth, with hot, arid climate and probably very little or no snow at all.

This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.

Story Information

Author: Crowdaughter

Status: General

Completion: Work in Progress

Era: 3rd Age - Ring War

Genre: Drama

Rating: Adult

Last Updated: 05/11/11

Original Post: 12/23/06

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