No Way Out

oOoOoOo

CH II

A day had passed since the fight… or so Haldir approximated. The overbearing darkness made any passage of time hard to tell. All he knew was that some men had been taken, presumably to fight as half came back with a victorious grin on their face, some came back unconscious, and others did not come back at all.

Haldir and Legolas had not been made to battle since their first time in the ring, and with no escape route possible right now, Haldir sat back and relaxed to regain his strength. No food had been offered them, yet Elves did not need to eat often to survive; though it would help Legolas’ body heal him faster. The Marchwarden worried for the young Prince. The bruise he received yesterday from the man was only just beginning to fade, and the knock to the head he obtained in the ring, well, though Legolas made no complaints of it, Haldir could tell it still pained him from time to time.

They remained as close to the wall as possible, not wanting to inadvertently insult their current room-mates, and so they stayed out of everyone’s way. Haldir just hoped they found a way out before long. Legolas' aura was glowing minutely less than it was yesterday’s though if that was a by-product of his injuries, Haldir could not be so sure.

“My Prince, how do you fare now?” Haldir asked in concern as he noticed Legolas wince in pain.

The young Elf glanced at his companion through the corner of his eyes as he gently rubbed them with the palms of his hands. His knees were drawn up to his bare chest, dried blood staining his torn and filthy leggings as he laid back against the cool wall in a pile of straw.

“I am well, Haldir,” he replied, “I am merely fatigued. Though I have slept, I still feel weary. I believe this place is already beginning to affect me. I will be alright,” he added in reassurance.

Haldir wasn’t too convinced with Legolas’ self-examination, but accepted it for the moment.

“I think, as much as I would like to wait longer, I should perhaps try talking to our fellow inmates again. The sooner we try to find a way out, the quicker we may escape. Continue resting, I shall be back soon… and try not to start another fight,” Haldir said with a cheeky grin, hoping to raise Legolas’ spirits in this dismal place, even if only for a moment.

Legolas scowled at the cocky Marchwarden’s retreating back, unable to stop him with a disapproving chastisement before he left his side. But despite the miserable circumstances, the smallest hint of a smile crept up upon his frowning lips.

Haldir went around the room, attempting to ask people if they knew of an escape route. A few chanted “no way out, no way out, no way out,” over and over again. Some mentioned that only one person had ever escaped, but couldn’t give any details. Most didn’t answer him, and the one whom struck Legolas the day before tried to do so again, but Haldir was ready for it and caught the fist in his hand. Sensing the man was ready to beat Haldir into a bloody pulp, (well, *try* to anyway, Haldir thought), he backed off and continued around the room until he found himself back with Legolas.

“It’s useless,” he said as he slumped down onto the floor. “They have all been driven mad, most likely by the gloom this place eradiates. Most probably do not even remember their own name, I’d wager!” Haldir sighed and looked at Legolas. “Do not fear, my Prince, he said, placing an arm around the slim shoulders, “*we* shall find a way out.”

“I pray that you are right, my friend,” the younger Elf sighed, gazing up at the stone ceiling. His eyes momentarily took on a faraway look, though his shoulders still rose and fell at an even pace indicating he was not asleep. “I can no longer hear the voices of the trees, nor the rustle of wind in the leaves. It is disturbing, for I have been accustomed to their presence since my earliest memories.”

Haldir smiled softly at Legolas’ upturned face. “I have heard of the Silvan’s ability to converse with the trees, though never did I think it true. What do they say to you?” Haldir asked excitedly.

“They tell us many things, though not always necessarily relevant, but their voices are soft and lyrical. They tell us what weather the coming days shall bring, what sort of people have trod beneath their boughs, or sometimes they simply say hello. They are comforting, especially in the darkest of times,” his face then sobered, and he blinked as if to clear his mind before gazing at the silver-haired Elf, “but now they offer me little comfort, for I have not their council to guide me.”

Haldir opened his mouth as if to comfort the young prince, but before he could utter a single word, the loud approach of foot falls could be heard advancing towards them, and both Elves tensed in anticipation.

The iron door swung open to reveal several Haradrim with large burlap sacks in hand, and before any of the inmates even had a second thought to attempt an escape, the bags were thrown into the cell, several loaves of bread spilling out. Like starved animals, the inmates all but pounced on them, fighting and shoving one another to get at what precious food they could scavenge.

Haldir watched the men pounce upon the food like a beggar would a piece of silver. Breathing in dramatically he said to Legolas, “stand back, my Prince, this could become very ugly,” and with that he dove into the pack in search of food.

His rather sudden appearance put many men off-balance and he was able to grab a loaf quite easily and also a satchel of water which he hadn’t noticed before, but getting out of the fray was another issue entirely. A fist landed squarely on his jaw just as teeth latched onto a calf. A few other punches were aimed randomly over his body, but they were nothing in comparison to the first two attacks. He re-doubled his efforts, fighting just as dirty as everyone else and somehow eventually disentangled himself from the men.

Slightly dizzy from the hit to his head Haldir stumbled a bit when he was free. Looking at his dinner he found someone had thoughtfully stolen a third of his bread, but Legolas and he could survive on the meagre meal none-the-less. Smiling triumphantly at the Prince, Haldir walked towards him. Though his victory was short-lived when he stumbled over someone’s leg and came crashing to the ground, his head just next to Legolas’ thigh. He looked up dazedly at his friend and offered the food to him with a silly grin. “Your supper, my Prince.”

“Are you alright?” Legolas asked with concern, his eyes grazing over the superficial wounds the elder Elf received. He reached over to assist Haldir onto his side, absently taking the bread that had been offered to him.

“Fear not, my Prince, it shall take more than a few starving, half-crazed men and a rather embarrassing fall to get the better of me!” Haldir spoke somewhat arrogantly, hoping to laugh the incident off, as he pushed up off the floor to once again sit against the wall. “Though my bruised ego wouldn’t mind some bread to feed it back into a healthy size,” Haldir joked as he put the water bag on the floor between them.

Legolas fought back a smirk, and broke the loaf into two equal halves, handing one over to the Marchwarden. A loud screech, however, caught the prince’s attention and his eyes immediately darted towards the door from whence the sound had emanated.

One of the prisoners was struggling against the Haradrim, trying to push past them and escape through the door. And while the other Men paid the scene little heed, instead focussing on filling their empty bellies, he and Haldir stared wide-eyed as the Haradrim restrained the man, before one of them took a spear and drove it into his chest.

A wheezing gasp left the Edan’s mouth, before his lifeless body fell face-first to the ground. Only then did the other men in the cell turn their heads, and to the two Elves’ utter horror, leapt upon the lifeless corpse and stripped it of the little clothing it had for their own need to keep warm. Not seconds later leaving a naked carcass in the center of the chamber, before the Haradrim guard dragged it out of the cell, locking the door behind them.

Legolas suddenly felt the alien urge to vomit, and Haldir could clearly see his shoulders heave as he panted to regain a proper breathing pattern.

Haldir didn’t feel very hungry once the scene had died down, praying to the Valar that he would not remain here long enough to become like them. Still in shock, he turned to see how Legolas was coping and was not at all surprised to see the Prince practically hyperventilating.

“Deep breaths, Legolas,” he said as he shifted to crouch in front of the Silvan Elf. “With me, come on. Breathe in,” Haldir took a long breath, “breathe out,” he let the air out again, his breath softly caressing Legolas’ skin. “Breathe in… Breathe out… Breathe in… Breathe out…” Haldir continued instructing the younger Elf until his breathing levelled out once more.

Haldir reached out and took Legolas in his arms, a hand gently rubbing his back. “Do not fret, my Prince, we shall find a way to escape from here. And, if nothing else,” Haldir laughed softly to himself, “we know trying to fight our way out is not going to work.”

He released Legolas from his embrace and gave him the water bottle. “Here, have a few sips, it should help.”

The princeling took the offered water-skin, but did not immediately bring it to his lips. Instead he merely stared forward, his eyes wide and haunted. At this point he was beyond caring about his pride being wounded after such a spectacle.

“I--” he stuttered, “I have been trained by the finest warriors in Mirkwood, and have witnessed many disturbing images, including death. I have slain many a foe in our dark wood, but never have I seen a Man kill his own kind.”

“Men are not like us. They do not understand the value of life. They walk this plane of existence for a short time… hardly long enough to accomplish deeds of great worth. There are a few, of course, that are able to affect the lives of many, but not enough for most men to see the error of their life and how they choose to live it…

“Your father does right not to associate with most men. Be thankful, my Prince, that you have been blinded to their behaviour until now,” Haldir comforted Legolas as best as he could. “Try to eat something. Your body needs the sustenance.”

Despite the churning feeling in his abdomen, the young Elf could not deny his hunger for much longer. It had been at least four days since last he ate. He held the water satchel to his mouth and took several small sips, before handing it back over to Haldir and taking several bites of his bread. He found, however, that he could not eat much more after eating half of his piece, and so merely stored it away beneath the straw.

“Try to rest now. Let your body process the food to help heal you faster,” Haldir murmured quietly, having noticed Legolas had finished eating and had hid the remainder of his meal. Haldir did likewise, though not because he wasn’t hungry, but knowing he would be even hungrier in a few hours’ time. “Sleep, my Prince, I will guard over you,” Haldir repeated and smiled compassionately at the young blonde.

Legolas shot the Marchwarden an odd look as he settled. This Elf was caring for him as if he were a mere Elfling, which he was not, though he was hardly an adult either. More baffling even, was that he was doing exactly what this stranger asked of him. And though a part of him felt almost insulted, another part of him felt slightly comforted by it. They were the only Elves in this place, and could rely only on each other.

He lay there for quite some time, unable to fall asleep. Oh, how he longed to sleep in the boughs of a beech tree and gaze up at the twinkling stars through the bountiful leaves. He missed his home, and a small part of him feared they may never escape. But he had the Marchwarden of Lothlorien, and if they were doomed to be stuck here, at least they would be in the companionship of each other.

It occurred to him that he did not know very much about the Silver-haired Elf, other than knowing he served Lord Celeborn, their distant Sindarin kin, and the fair Lady Galadriel, whom he had heard much of, though not all things said of her were good. Thranduil despised her Noldorin blood, the memory of the kinslaying never going easy with him. Though there were some in the Elven King’s halls that spoke well of her, including the mysterious Mithrandir when he came to visit Mirkwood. Legolas had always been attentive to his tales as a child, insisting to hear about all of his travels, having never been allowed to leave the boundaries of their home. It had been a long time since word from Lothlorien had entered their realm, and Legolas had very little memory of the Elves.

Looking over and seeing as the elder Elf was very much awake, he asked quietly; “Haldir, would you tell me about your home?”

“Certainly my Prince. The woods of Lothlorien are… magical. As are all Elven realms, of course. But my home… it has a uniqueness about it,” Haldir closed his eyes to remember it all the better. “We are one with nature, but not a part of it. Some, such as Lord Celeborn, are able to hear the trees’ whispers, but he does not possess the ability to talk back.

“The Mellyrn that grow there are the tallest trees I have ever seen. One almost topples backwards when trying to look up to see the canopy!” Haldir smiled in remembrance of seeing many an Elfling attempting to see the top of the trees only to fall over as they overbalance.

“The forest is aglow all the time, even at night. The Mellyrn… they out-shine even the Lady herself. But it is a sombre luminescence… almost as if they mourn the loss of Anor’s warm rays. Or perhaps they worry that one-day she will not rise. But when she does… that is when the forest becomes most alive. They rejoice at the sight of a new sun and the entire woods shines a soft tinge of orange,” Haldir’s voice faltered slightly. Remembering his home was a difficult thing to do when he opened his eyes to find himself in this claustrophobic darkness.

Not able to go on any further, Haldir looked over to Legolas and saw the Prince had fallen asleep to the sound of his voice. Haldir’s mouth half twisted into a smile as he brushed a stray lock of hair out of the vivid blue eyes, dulled slightly in sleep. Gently he placed an arm around the slight shoulders and squeezed the younger one to his side. “Sleep well, my fair Prince. I shall guard your dreams.”

It seemed only moments after he had drifted off to sleep when Legolas was startled awake by the struggling sounds of grunts and protesting feet reaching his ears. The young blond looked up, and it was then that he realized Haradrim soldiers were forcing his defiant friend out of the cell.

“Haldir!” He quickly pushed himself to his feet, trying desperately to ignore the dizziness that struck him, but he took not even a step forward as the Marchwarden frantically shook his head at him.

With impending dread Legolas watched as the elder Elf was led from the cell and past the restraining bars before he was out of sight, once again set off to fight for his very life in these Men’s sick idea of entertainment.

oOoOoOo

REVIEWS:


Jilly: Thanks for your wonderful and supportive comments. You are a great friend to both of us and we are happy you like this story. Most especially as you are veering away from your comfort zone to read it.
And yeah, Legolas does seem to be having a pretty rough time of it, but with a friend like Haldir to help heal his wounds, who cares? :P

tinabedina: Thanks for your comment, glad you're enjoying the story so far. But, do you mind giving us an example of where Haldir referred to Legolas as a man?

oOoOoOo