No Way Out

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Ch IV

Haldir was in a daze. Once his body had forcefully removed the meagre contents of his stomach, he had somehow drifted across the grounds back to his cage, awaiting further instruction. He had not noticed the men opening his cage and re-tying his hands, nor their harsh words and powerful jabs to get him moving.

The walk back to the cell was short and in the wake of taking an innocent life, a person whom asked to be in this hellhole as much as Haldir had, the Galadhrim leader forgot to look for possible escape routes and could see only pale blue eyes staring up at him and seeing nothing. A shudder ran up his spine and Haldir’s resolve for leaving this place hardened.

A door swung open before him and hands pushed him over the threshold. Looking around in the dim surrounding, he saw one bright shining figure almost calling out to him with no words even uttered. Stumbling somewhat, Haldir shuffled over to the heavenly spirit and fell to his knees before the celestrial creature.

Legolas was uncertain if his words registered within the silver-haired Elf’s mind or not as he repeated Haldir’s name several times over. He had seen him stagger into the dingy cell, paying no attention to the little activity and voices around him, before falling roughly to his knees in front of him on the cold ground. His normally bright eyes were unnaturally dull, not like the glazed appearance taken in Elven sleep, but akin to soulless emptiness of one who had seen far too much grief in only a short period of time.

What could have possibly happened in that pit to incite such a reaction? In this place anything was possible, things too horrific to imagine. His scraped and bruised hands gently grasped the Marchwarden’s shoulders, and Legolas’ beseeching eyes gazed into Haldir’s own.

“Haldir! saes, mellon-nin, won’t you tell me what has happened?”

Haldir saw the light coming so close that it almost blinded him with its beauty. Within the bright illumination he saw two soft, concerned orbs gazing into his, but he was unable to hold eye contact, shame over what he had just done consuming him. Looking down at his still bound hands Haldir could not stop the tears that began to roll down his cheeks.

It was in that moment that Legolas glimpsed not the stern and battle-hardened warrior he had come to know, but the tormented and broken soul of an Elf who was his friend, who had gone to great lengths to protect both the Princeling and himself, but at such a great cost that the Lorien guard now lay sobbing at his very feet. It was rare to see a warrior cry openly, lest it be caused by the loss of a loved one, or a companion in battle, and not even Thranduil, Legolas’ father and Lord of the Greenwood, had ever dared to spill tears before him.

Removing his hands from the broader Elf’s shoulders to untie the rope that bound Haldir’s motionless hands together, Legolas guided the distraught soldier off the chilly floor and into the straw pile he sat upon, rubbing his back in attempt to comfort him as he wept. Uncomfortable as he was in this situation, the young Prince did his best to console the other.

Something horrendous had happened, needless to say, something so great the Marchwarden was too mortified to even look him in the eye. He was retreating into himself, that much was certain. Legolas had seen the drastic consequences humiliation could do to an Elf before, and he became increasingly worried.

“Will you not look at me, Haldir?” he spoke gently.

Haldir felt the ethereal being before him guide him to be seated more comfortably upon the softer dried grass-strewn ground and he relaxed slightly in the more cosy setting. He felt the creature trying to catch his eye, but Haldir was unable to look at something so pure and good without feeling revulsion for himself.

Leaning back against the wall, Haldir let his eyes close and willed himself to think of nothing. Yet in the dark recesses of his mind, dead eyes with nothing left to live for haunted his sight.

Starting at the vision Haldir seemed almost surprised to find himself back amongst the other prisoners in the dark belly of the stadium. Upon feeling a hand circling his back, Haldir turned his head to see his friend.

“Legolas?” he spoke almost disbelieving and stunned.

“Yes,” the Silvan breathed, “yes, it is I. What happened out there that would cause you to weep so?”

“I… I killed him…" Haldir stumbled, whispering his confession, knowing it to be true but not able to accept his crime just yet. "… I took his life…" Tears continuously ran down the warriors face now and he turned from Legolas, too shamed by his actions, both in and out of the stadium, to allow the prince to witness his breakdown. Huddling himself against the cold stone wall, Haldir softly mourned the man’s passing and his own sanity's.

“Him?” Legolas repeated, but before an answer left his companion’s lips, realization dawned upon him, and if it were possible, Legolas’ face dropped further. The Lorien Elf had taken the life of his rival in the pit. A tirade of emotions took hold of him, and Legolas was uncertain on which one to focus. Shock, sorrow, pity, all permeated within his blue eyes. Not just for him, but for the guilt-ridden Elf he sat beside. Words would have little comfort for him. Haldir was a warrior, trained in battle to defend his home against the dark creatures of Morgoth’s creation. But these Men had not always been evil; some had been beaten into submission, and others, from what they had heard, were taken away as children and trained to fight, thus being their only purpose in life. To take a once pure being’s life with his bare hands… Legolas could not begin to imagine what that would be like. And unfortunately for him, he soon would know, for it was obvious that in this horrid place survival and death were the only options one had.

“Ai, Haldir,” The Prince sighed morosely, and shifted closer to the other Elf, wrapping an arm around his shoulder as Legolas leaned his own head against the broader warrior’s. “I am sorry, my friend.”

Haldir felt the arm that wrapped around his shoulders but paid it no heed. He lacked the energy to push it away, or gain comfort from the gesture. Curling into himself, both mentally and physically, Haldir eventually drifted off into a restless sleep, huddled against the wall in a dark and foreboding cell, leagues away from his home of light and happiness.

Legolas felt the body beneath his arm slow to a deep succession of steady breathing, in indication that Haldir’s mind had drifted into Elven sleep. It was not surprising, considering both the energy he had depleted in the fight, and the exhaustion that came with the spilt tears. Still, it did not ease the Prince’s mind to know that his friend had left the harsh realm of the living, for his dreams would be restless, and once he awoke he would be faced with the cruelty of reality once more.

Resting his back against the rough wall, Legolas gently lowered the Marchwarden’s form so that he lay flat on the ground, his silver head resting in the younger Elf’s lap.

As Haldir continued to doze, the son of Thranduil gazed down, eyes half-lidded, as he quietly ran his fingers through the silver strands in silent comfort. Even in dreams, his face was pinched with grief.

“Oh, Haldir,” he whispered. “This was no fault of yours. The weight of that man’s death should not be put upon your shoulders. Why can you not accept that?”


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Haldir awoke a few hours later, feeling more tired than he had when slumber took him over. Shifting slightly, he looked up to see the face of his friend gazing compassionately down on him. Haldir returned a small, woeful smile before pushing himself off the Prince’s lap.

“Waaa-” Haldir tried to speak, his voice rough and scratchy. Swallowing forcefully, he tried again. “Water?” he strangled out.

Legolas immediately reached behind him, digging his hand into the golden straw the two sat upon, and retrieved the water flask. He quickly pulled the stopper and handed it to the other.

“How are you feeling?”

Haldir shrugged non-committedly and took a few deep swallows of the precious liquid, but left enough to last them the rest of the day. Sighing loudly, Haldir composed himself before turning to the Prince.

"Anything of interest occur whilst I was gone or asleep?" he asked with a falsely light tone.

“Not particularly,” Legolas replied suspiciously. He then hesitated for a short moment before continuing, “You had me worried.”

“Hmm? What? No. No need to worry about me. I shall be fine,” Haldir said with a smile that didn’t match the rest of his stressed face. “It is kind of you to say, though,” he said with a cheeky wink. “Sooooo… any new ideas on how to break out? Find out any gossip or information?”

Legolas’ countenance made it unmistakably obvious that he did not believe the Marchwarden for an instance. He was young by Elven standards, but by no means was he so gullible. However, realizing how painful the subject must have been for his comrade, he allowed the topic to drop, for the time being, at least.

“Unfortunately not,” the Prince sighed, “I have remained ever vigilant since your absence, though I know as little as I did when I was first brought here. However, I have eavesdropped on several conversations regarding the routines of this place. We are fed once every three days, are brought into a bathing chamber and allowed to wash while our garments are discarded for cleaning once a week, and are expected to fight at least four times every seven days.

“What about you? Have you discovered anything of relevance while travelling the corridors?”

“I fear not, my Prince. The hallways are dark, except for the torches. Unless there is some secret passageway, I could see no escape route between here and the Ring. I shall have to look more closely next time. Especially around the area of the cage leading onto the stadium. And perhaps into the crowd. Maybe see if we can jump over the wall and run through the audience to find an exit. Though somehow I doubt you and I shall find ourselves facing each other again for some time…” Haldir left off, his eyes turning inwards as he silently contemplated their situation and ways to escape.

“I hope that to be the case,” the Silvan murmured. “Now that I have met you, I think I would be incapable of harming you. I realize we’ve only known each other for a short time, Haldir, but I feel that I can trust you.”

“And I you, my Prince,” Haldir spoke truthfully, his eyes gazing deeply into Legolas’.

A tiny smile played upon the Prince’s thin lips, and he quickly averted his eyes down to his lap as he found himself attempting to suppress the light tinge of pink that threatened to spread upon his pale cheeks.

“Father would think this most inappropriate,” he spoke through his grin. “I was always taught that princely etiquette required proper behaviour amongst others, especially strangers. ‘To display our emotions so openly for one to be able to distinguish them is a weakness. Our people take comfort in knowing they are in the care of competent rulers.’ My father carries a very strong visage.”

Haldir gazed around the room then turned back to Legolas with an incredulous look on his face.

“I hardly think there is anyone here we need to put up a strong facade for. Displaying feelings of affection, especially in a place like this, are needed now more than ever,” Haldir countered with a small smile of hope and fondness. “True, we should not let some know how… close… we have grown, but there is no harm in admitting it to each other.”

“Perhaps,” replied the Prince. He was quiet for a long moment, his fingers absently picking at the dried blood staining his leggings before gaining the courage to speak. In a quiet voice, he said; “Haldir… you say that I am your friend and you trust me, and yet- and yet you try to hide your emotions from me.

“The way you came in earlier… it was obvious that something terrible had happened. That was later confirmed when you… when you admitted to what happened in that ring. I know you are hurting, and the emotional pain worsens the longer you deny it. Do not tell me you are fine, because I know that to be untrue. You do not always have to be strong, Haldir. I will think no less of you, whatever happens.”

A guilty look flashed over Haldir’s features before shrugging a shoulder inconsequently. “I did not want you to worry needlessly. Nothing can be done now, so why concern yourself? Besides, in this place, I foresee a lot of incidents like this. We have not the time nor luxury to dwell on unpleasant thoughts if ever we are to escape.

“I shall say this though. I did the right thing… the man saw no more purpose to his life and as such was already dead within himself… yet never have I taken a life with my own hands. Sword, arrows, knives, certainly, but not with these…” Haldir said as he closely surveyed his hands, half expecting them to have turned into some grotesque claw-like form. However they were as they had always been. Lean, callused roughened from a life of soldiering, delicate looking, but with a deceptive amount of power behind them, though they were a little dirtier than he was usually accustomed to. Sighing quietly, Haldir raised his eyes back to gauge Legolas’ reaction to his confession.

“You had no choice,” the blond haired Elf replied, meeting the elder Elf’s eyes, “and I agree; you did the right thing, difficult as it was. I do not blame you, Haldir.

Haldir closed his eyes and in the darkness gathered himself, knowing time was of the essence. Yet at the same time, if they did not escape soon, they would then truly know the meaning of immortality, but would be too senseless to realise it. Acting quickly was their only choice, lest they escape as mere shadows of their former selves.

Opening his eyes, Haldir looked to Legolas. "No doubt, you shall be called to fight again before I am. Be sure to look for any means of escape… something I might have missed in the hallways and the arena. Perhaps even gauge the skills of the guards, maybe see if you could fight them should we find no other ways out," Haldir looked closely at Legolas, wondering if the Prince was yet rested enough to fight again and keep his eyes peeled for any exits they could use.

“I understand,” The flaxen-haired Elf answered with a nod. “Haldir… are you certain you are alright?”

“I am fine,” Haldir said forcefully in a tone clearly showing he wanted Legolas to stop asking him. Sighing deeply, Haldir looked at Legolas and frowned. “Mayhap you should sleep while you can, restore your health before another fight depletes it completely,” the Marchwarden tactfully pointed out.

It looked for a moment as though the prince was going to argue the ‘advice’, but a stern look from Haldir quietened any protest. The Silver-haired Elf sat back against the wall and from the corner of his eye saw Legolas lay down on the straw and soon his eyes took on a glazed, far-off look.

When Haldir was sure his companion was lost in slumber, he slowly extended a hand and lightly caressed Legolas’ cheek with his knuckles. “Sleep well, my Prince,” the Elder Elf whispered tenderly.

Saes (please)
Mellon-nin (my friend)

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TBC…

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MorierBlackleaf: Ash: Ok... Can't say I've owned one of those... but I want one now that you've told me about it! :D What about you, Mawgy? Mawgy: No, I never had a weather brick. My sister did though. I was forever trying to steal it and set it up as she never took it out of the packet. But, alas, instead she caught me and stole my brain.... so I never had a chance to lose it! : P Thanks for your review, and as for what's to happen next, you'll just have to wait to find out :P


Ertia: Yes, poor Haldir does need comforting :) That should happen anytime soon ;) Thanks for your review!!

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