The Jewel of Mirkwood

(A/N) Appologise for this chapter I'm a sick fucker sometimes and well blood and making Legolas suffer is a cruel delight of mine.

Chapter 32

Legolas whispered soft prayers to himself over and over again as he cuddle his body and held his head to his knees despite the pain that coarse through him at the awkward position. He was still sitting in Keeldon’s lap and greatly desired to move in case the man should wake from whatever injury the elf lords had inflicted upon him but the sound of battle around the hall kept the young elf rooted to the spot. He had never expected to be this scared when faced with a battle. He had always boasted to Filgree that should he ever be asked to join soldiers he’d welcome the challenge to swing a sword for his life but the reality was that in the face of battle he’d become scared and frightened. The will and anger that had forced the outburst with the table leg upstairs had fallen silent and he was left a quivering shell useless to anyone. Deep down inside he knew he should be helping them, after all it was he they were trying to rescue yet he could not will his limbs to move beyond their shivering. Every so often he’d hear Glorfindel voice calling to his friends above the sounds of the fight and the young elf took strength from knowing the elf lord was still alive. Occasionally someone or something would knock the chair he sat in during the fighting and Legolas braced himself for further injury each time but it never came. He dared not open his eyes for fear of what he would see, or worse still what would happen to him if the enemy saw he was still alive.

As each long moment passed the sounds of fighting around him slowed until finally the last steel twang of a sword hitting the stone floor signalled the end of the battle. The silence was thick and to Legolas his own laboured breathing sounded loud to his ears. Desperately he listened for signs of life but when he heard naught but his childish whimpers did he begin to panic. If Glorfindel and the other two lords had been killed he would be stuck here in this house, unable to escape through the huge city of evil men, who would be looking for him. Panicking Legolas bit his lip hard and forced himself to open his eyes although he did not move his hands from covering his face. Through the slits in his fingers Legolas looked out into the carnage of the hall. Several bodies littered the stone floor and while he could not see it he knew the walls and table were splattered with blood. Swallowing hard Legolas listened carefully for even the smallest sound but when he heard nothing he slowly sat up. His back protested in agony but Legolas chewed his bottom lip to stifle the cry of pain which threatened to fall from his lips. If anyone had survived the last thing he needed was to draw their attention to him, especially if they were the enemy. Once he was sitting up Legolas slowly drew his hands away from his face and stared at the scene in front of him. People he knew had died in wars and fighting but he’d always been detached from the actual event, so sheltered by his father. Even when wounded were brought back from the great war Legolas was never allowed near the infirmary, so he’d never been exposed to death so graphic as this. He had never seen real bodies, not orcs or beasts, but real bodies of people, leaking their crimson fluid like water from a fountain.

“Glorfindel.” Slowly not moving his body Legolas scanned the hall looking for signs of his saviours but there was none. Desperately Legolas whispered Glorfindel’s name hoping that he would receive a reply. His call was bearly audible however and so he raised his voice nervously and called the seneschal’s name again. Once again there was no reply but his own shaky echo. ‘Just get up Legolas, you stupid elfling. Get up and run it may be your own chance for escape.’ His own mocking voice inside his head called to him willing his body into action.

Slowly Legolas slid to his feet off Keeldon’s lap, unable to control the way he was shaking. So far the man he sat on top of hadn’t moved and for that Legolas was grateful, Keeldon obviously having been knocked out during battle. However Legolas wasn’t going to push his luck and so silently stood up insuring not to make a sound that could possibly wake the man. Straightening himself Legolas went to take a small silent step away from Keeldon but felt the familiar tugging around his neck. The collar. In the mayhem of battle Legolas had forgotten about the leather choker around his neck and now the damned thing had him tied to his captor. ‘Turn around and just unravel it quietly, no need to make a sound. He won’t wake up.’ Quietly Legolas repeated the mantra to himself. So far he’d avoided looking at Keeldon’s passed out figure behind him but in order to escape he would have to face his captor once last time. Swallowing around the lump in his throat Legolas slowly turned around to face the chair he’d been sitting in, his eyes following the leather strap to where it’s end was tightly wrapped around Keeldon’s forearm. Reaching forward Legolas concentrated on unravelling the tightly tied strap around the man’s arm purposely keeping his gaze focused on the task so that he didn’t have to look at the man he hated so much. It was curiosity that got him in the end though and without thinking of the consequences Legolas glanced up to where the man’s head should have been.

For a moment Legolas’ mind had to catch up with the scene he was confronted with. Where Keeldon’s head should have been there was now a gaping wound, the stark white spinal collum cleanly cut like chicken bones after a feast. The main artery was still leaking blood and Legolas felt his stomach turn at the sight. Keeldon wasn’t knocked unconscious; he was headless and very much dead! For the first time since he’d stood Legolas realised he had just been sitting on a dead man’s lap and if that was not bad enough he was still tied tightly to the dead man’s arm. Without thinking Legolas screamed in terror, the high pitched wail piercing the silence of the room like a knife as the young prince turned to run from the corpse of a man that only a few short hours ago had been talking to him. The prince had hardly taken two steps away from the body before the leather strap sent him sprawling to the floor only to pull Keeldon’s headless body down on top of him, more of the blood from the body leaking out all over Legolas. Uncaring about who or what found him Legolas continued to scream in terror as he thrashed around on the floor trying to get the man’s heavy frame off his body. The only problem was that everywhere that Legolas moved on the floor the body came to, the strap becoming more and more tangled around the prince’s neck as he continued to struggle and scream for his life…

TBC>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

(A/N) Sorry as I said before I'm a sucker for a bit of gore.