Title: Mirkwood’s Impasse
Author: Red Autumn (red_autumn21@yahoo.com)
Pairing(s): Legolas/?
Rating: NC17, Rape, Angst, Violence
Summary: Mirkwood’s in danger.  How can a lone elf save it when he,
himself was bound to his enemy in a forced marriage?
Warning: PLEASE heed the ratings.  Slash contents of graphic and
non-consent sex.
Disclaimer: Only borrowing Tolkien’s characters for my fantasy.
NOTE: This fic is AU.
		  Special thanks to beta reader – Anu Anu



PART 1

It was a peaceful night.  The moonlight cast silvery lights through the
arcades along the corridor, creating shadows on the colored mosaic
tiles of the floor.

A young elf was drawn to the lights beckoning him with the call of an
immemorial song to his soul.

Anyone who happened to pass by would be awed to see this ethereal being
bathing under the moonlight.  All elves glow from within for they are
made of stardust and with the added effect from the heavenly body, he
looked like a shimmering apparition rather than solid matter.

At night the young Prince would let his hair cascade around him
naturally.  He liked the feel of his soft, blond hair waving gently
behind as wind blew toward his direction.  He closed his eyes and
savoured the feel of cool breeze soothingly caressing his cheeks.

On a night like this, Prince Legolas Greenleaf would sit on the marble
architrave supported by the balustrade with the chiseled slender
statuette and sing, but tonight his mind and heart was greatly
distressed.

“All alone?” a husky voice sounded very close to his ears.

Legolas was startled, his chain of thoughts broken.  He rebuked himself
for being so occupied with his mind that he failed to notice the
intruder that had snuck up on him.  A certain interloper he wished to
avoid meeting at all costs.

The smaller elf wanted to move away but two hands shot out and latched
on to the beautifully carved architrave he had been leaning on, thus
barring him from walking away on either side.  

The body behind him began to push against him.  It made him
uncomfortable.  Legolas gasped in anger and outrage as the unwelcome
visitor rubbed his hips lasciviously, pushing his hard bulge against
the small of the Prince’s back, unashamed of his heightened libido.

Turning around, Legolas had intended to confront him and push him away.

Unexpectedly the red-haired elf hugged him in a tight embrace and
mashed his lips harshly onto his; a wet tongue shot out and tried to
force its way inside.  A moan emitted from the assaulter made Legolas
felt even more disgusted by this lewd behaviour.

The flaming red haired half-elf was a head taller than the object of
his desire and his body was bigger; muscles more compact especially on
his forearms and upper torso, unlike most elves.  Even though the
Prince was a trained warrior and able to defend himself, his strength
was no match to this one who was endowed with the might of both
parentage – human and elf.

Unable to release himself from his arms, Legolas tried another tactic. 
He lifted one leg and stepped heavily with the balls of his feet on to
his aggressor’s toes, causing the red head to loosen his grip from the
momentary flash of pain.  A grunt escaped from his throat as his mouth
detached itself unwillingly from the ruby red lips.

Taking the opportunity, the blonde elf shoved him roughly and proceeded
to step away without looking back.  The Prince was fuming with anger
and also fear.  The bigger elf could easily have taken him if he was
determined enough.

“You will be mine very soon, little Greenleaf,” called out the voice
behind him.

Legolas ignored his remark and did not slow his stride.  He hated when
anyone besides his family called him little Greenleaf.  It is a
nickname affectionately used when Legolas was sometimes mischievous.

The bigger elf watched the young Prince’s tantalizing buttocks swagger
quickly away until he was out of sight.  He was more annoyed that he
could not enjoy the beautiful elf in his arms than being angry at what
he had done to him.

A vivacious elf!  He would enjoy very much subduing this one to
submissiveness.

Originally the Crown Prince had been the target but found him too rigid
and much bound by his sense of duty.  Then the half elf tried to seduce
the only she-elf in the family only to discover she already has a lover
and her love for him was too strong to break.

The youngest was discovered quite by accident however.

FLASHBACK

Legolas had just returned from his short trip to Rivendell and as
usual, he would head straight to his ada.  Even though the blond
warrior had already passed his majority a few seasons, he still kept
the habit of jumping onto his sire and giving him a big childishly
affectionate embrace.

The King adored all his children especially the youngest.  He found
Legolas very much like himself – mischievous and with a love for riding
fast, tearing through the forest carelessly.

King Thranduil had been bending over a huge heavy oak table looking at
maps, his back to the door of his office.  Before he registered it his
youngest son had entered, and a pair of slender arms circled his waist
from behind before tightening uncomfortably.

The older elf had smiled and whipped around, hugging the smaller frame
just as furiously.

“You’ve returned!” cried Thranduil.

“Yes, ada.  I’ve missed you so much,” chirped the Prince as he buried
his head into his ada’s chest, feeling safe and warm with the strong
arms around him.

All the Mirkwood counselors and personages in the room were quite used
to the young elf’s rude interruptions.  Some shook their heads
wondering when the Prince would grow out of his juvenile behaviour
while others simply smiled.

Foreign councilors present in the office were left bewildered by the
commotion.  Seeing that all the elves of Mirkwood did not make any move
or show signs of distress eased their feelings a little.

The half-elf was there as well.

The moment he laid eyes on this young beauty in the King’s arms, he
swore to himself that the Prince would be his at whatever costs.
The hunt would be worth it.

END OF FLASHBACK

Chuckling amusedly, he turned on his heels and strode the opposite
direction.

As soon as he reached his bedchamber, Legolas entered hurriedly and
slammed the door closed behind him.  He leaned against it and closed
his eyes.  A relieved sigh escaped from deep within.  He slumped his
shoulders.

The boldness of the half-elves worried the young Prince.  That meant
they were sure of themselves, sure of King Thranduil’s favour and sure
that the throne would be in their hands.  Something must be done, fast.

Legolas took off his robe, placing it neatly on the back of a chair and
then walked over to his bed.  Sitting on the edge of it, he took off
his soft leather boots and placed them beside the bed.  Swinging his
legs up, he moved to the center and pulled the soft white coverlet up
his chest before lying down.

He tried to get some sleep.  There was nothing he could do right now
especially not alone.  Tomorrow he must convince his ada to allow him
to go to Rivendell and secretly seek help.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

There was a knock on the door and without waiting for a reply it
opened.  The red-haired elf that had been trying to molest the young
Prince walked in, closing the door behind him.

“Everything going accordingly?” he asked the woman who was seated in
front of the huge dressing table.  She was brushing her long red hair,
as red as the half-elf standing behind her.

“Yes, dear brother,” she answered, looking at his reflection on the
mirror.  “You don’t look too happy.  Something the matter?”

“Not really,” he said as he walked over to a chair and sat down
heavily.  “He’s rather stubborn but that will change when the tide
turns against him.”

His mind wandered to the thoughts of abusing the trembling naked body. 
“Then I shall enjoy myself immensely when he calls me master and does
what I tells him to do.”

A smile spread on his face as he imagined more of the Prince’s
agonizing moans filling his bedchamber.

“Oh Morrant.  You’re absolutely smitten by this little one, aren’t
you?”

“You have no idea, Levana dear, no idea.”

“Hhmm…You’re a hunter, dear brother.  I know you find pleasure with the
challenges in taking your prey.”

Levana placed the brush down and turned on her seat to face her
brother.  She was dressed provocatively – a semi-transparent maroon
robe with delicate lace along the neckline and plunging v-neck, showing
off some pale smooth flesh of her well-endowed breasts.

Morrant couldn’t help stealing short glances around the neck region. 
He admitted that his sister was highly skilled in the art of seduction
and flirting with any male, reducing them to groveling pitiful
creatures eager to lick her boots.  However, whenever they have a
bigger agenda for their victims, she would use some black magic potions
that she concocted herself to keep her prey obedient until she had no
use for him.

That was how they had managed to keep King Thranduil under their tight
leash.  The Golden King was easy to seduce for he had a soft spot for
beautiful, helpless she-elves in distress.  After that it was only a
matter of poisoning his mind slowly to do whatever they bid.

“How I yearn so painfully for that feisty young Prince every night, to
squirm in my arms as I take him,” said Morrant trying to avert his
attention from his sister’s playful flirts.

The she half-elf knew he had a severe weakness for smooth silky flesh
and sometimes she liked to taunt him by purposely creating diversion
with “accidentally” parted clothes.

“There are so many elves in Mirkwood.  Take one for the night,” she
suggested, her fingers absent-mindedly twirling a curl.

“No.  It is only Legolas that I want and he, I shall have.  Only he can
put out the fire smoldering hotly between my legs.  Ai!  How it
frustrates me that I cannot have him now.”

“Peace dear brother.  Very soon he will be yours,” purred Levana.

“Hhhmmm…….very much indeed!” growled Morrant deep in his throat.


= = = = = =

Title		: Mirkwood’s Impasse
Author		: Red Autumn (red_autumn21@yahoo.com)
Pairing(s)	: Legolas/?
Rating		: NC17, Rape, Angst, Violence
Summary	: Mirkwood’s in danger.  How can a lone elf save it when he,
himself was bound to his enemy in a forced marriage?
Warning	: PLEASE heed the ratings.  Slash contents of graphic and
non-consent sex.
Disclaimer	: Only borrowing Tolkien’s characters for my fantasy.
NOTE		: This fic is AU.
		  Special thanks to beta reader – Anu Anu.



PART 2

The Prince woke up to find a beautiful morning awaited him.  From his
bed, he saw the light streaming through the sheer curtains.  Occasional
drafts lifted the light materials, waving, beckoning him to come.

In answer to the call, he got up and walked to the window.  Drawing the
curtains aside, he took in a lungful of fresh crisp air.

From his room, he could see the distant long range of blue tinged
mountains with snows forever capping the peaks.  Sunbeams fanned out
through some odd broken clouds creating a curtain-like veil on a stage,
parted to show the splendor of nature’s theater.

Normally he would grab his close friend Firnnole and together they
would ride all day.  Today however his mind and heart were greatly
distressed to go on such excursions.

Sometimes his eldest brother, Firith would join them but lately, their
ada had kept him busy fighting orcs off the borders.  He missed his
brother very much and had not seen him in almost a year.

The youngest Prince could not understand why their sire had sent the
Crown Prince away when he should be staying by his side to be groomed
as the future king.

Firith had protested furiously after months being away and not allowed
to return home.  He argued that it was like being exiled.  However King
Thranduil held his ground and the Crown Prince stayed at the border.

No one understood why the eldest Prince was forced to live in
semi-exile.  The border soldiers were capable enough to drive the
menace away without any royal interference.

Crown Prince Firith was tempted to ride home despite his sire’s warning
but his loyalty to him outweighs his brash intentions.  Grumpily he
accepted his fate.

FLASHBACK

Legolas had tried to sneak a visit to his brother once.  Under the
cover of darkness, the young elf had stealthily crept to the stable. 
Then he led the horse out of the palace grounds before daring to ride
it and galloped fast.

Imagine the surprise of the elder elf when he found his baby brother
slipping into his makeshift tent.

Firith had hugged his brother furiously, not wanting to let go. 
Despite years of practiced royal façade, the Crown Prince could not
help himself and he cried.  The entire calm demeanor dropped and true
emotions surfaced.

The crushing embrace caused Legolas unable to breath and his eyes
bulged from the pressure.  After a minute his brother still showed no
signs of letting go; the smaller elf had to struggle free as stars
exploded in front of his eyes.

When his brother finally let go, Legolas held his chest and sucked in a
huge amount of air to relieve his oxygen-starved lungs.  Firith felt
embarrassed by his show of over-reacted emotions.  Legolas waved his
apologies away, knowing he would do the same if it were the other way
round.

Firith was terribly lonely and did not really have any friends around. 
Most of the elven soldiers regarded him politely and respectfully as
was required of his station.

The few friends he made quickly with the higher-ranking officers were
either transferred to other companies after a few months, due to
rotational requirements or returned home for their short leaves.

Hurriedly, Firith had sat his brother down on one of the few plush
chairs set in the tent, full of questions and eager to have his own
answered.

The two siblings had stayed up all night exchanging news.  Legolas
voiced his worries and suspicions about the two strange half-elves and
even though Firith agreed with his brother but he could not do
anything.  If he disobeyed the King, he would be put in prison and then
Legolas would be left alone to fend for himself and for the kingdom.

“I have discussed this problem with some of the more trusted officers
who served under me.  They’ve agreed to help me gather those of
strength and loyalty among the soldiers.  Some will even try to
convince the citizens of Mirkwood to join our cause while at home on
leave,” Firith said with a hint of hope in his voice.

“I will try to get help from Lord Elrond.  I just hope we are not too
late when we are ready to strike.”

“Don’t worry brother.  I have my eyes and ears everywhere.  We will
save Mirkwood.”

Finally, with only two hours until dawn, Legolas had to leave.  Both
reluctantly parted, hugging tightly.  The younger Prince did not mind
the crushing embrace again as he was not sure when he would be able to
come back again.  Tears welled in their eyes as they walked out of the
tent.

Prince Firith watched gloomily as the other blond elf got on his horse
and started to trot away.  Legolas turned around briefly to wave
good-bye before urging his horse to gallop fast.

He watched till they disappeared into the dark forest and then shuffled
his feet as he headed back into the now quiet tent.

As some light began to brighten the day, Legolas knew he was going to
be late.  He decided to risk it by riding up to the stable from behind.

Despite all his efforts, he was caught anyway.

As he came around the stable, he was shocked to find his ada waiting
for him at the main stable entrance with two palace guards behind him.

“Get off that horse,” ordered the King, unnervingly calmly as the white
horse approached, stopping several feet from him.
Without hesitation, the frightened elf swung his right leg around and
jumped down.

“Come here,” commanded the Golden King as he stared into the azure eyes
so similar to his own.

Gingerly his son stepped towards him, eyes averted down, unable to meet
his father’s stare.

“Where have you been?”

Legolas continued looking down.  He wanted to say something but thought
better of it.  His ada knew anyway.  There were no excuses in
Middle-Earth to save him now.

“You are to be escorted back to your chamber and remain there until I
come up with a fitting punishment for your lack of discipline.”  Saying
that he signaled the guards behind him to move.

The Prince gulped, his throat burning as the palace guards sandwiched
him in between them and urged him to walk.

They marched along the long, open corridor, the only exposed part of
the rock palace.  The few inhabitants awake at that time did not pay
any attention to them, oblivious to the troubles and concentrating only
on getting their work done.

The young prince was made to stay in his bedchamber all day without
food.  He became listless and agitated, wondering if his brother would
be punished as well for their actions.

When night finally came, the door to his room opened.  Legolas expected
King Thranduil to march in glowering and pronounce his sentence but
instead, Morrant entered.

The half-elf closed the door behind him quietly and stood there,
looking over at the young elf with an innocent smile.  The blonde elf
regarded him in return, wary of his every move.  Every step that
Morrant took, Legolas matched it, backing away.

“What are you doing here?” demanded Legolas, a little harshly.

“Well, your ada asked me to deliver his sentence to you, though I would
prefer other ‘duties’,” his smile widened.

The Prince’s muscles tensed, ready to fight.  Though his weapons were
too far away for him to reach, he could still try to outsmart his
opponent.

“Don’t worry, little Greenleaf.  I will not try anything…….yet,” he
purred, purposefully punctuating the last word.

“Do not call me little Greenleaf.  You have no right to use it,”
retorted Legolas angrily.  He was getting tired of this half-elf’s
brazenness.

“Hhhmmm……we shall see.  Anyway, your ada decreed that you are to remain
within the palace walls and I stress, WITHIN the palace walls, for
three months with hard labour doing servant’s duties,” said Morrant
seriously and then left without another word.

Legolas seethed angrily.  The punishment was unfair.  This whole thing
was definitely concocted by the two half-elves.  No one knew where he
had gone to and even if the other elves knew about it, none would
report to his ada.  He did not have any enemy in Mirkwood.

Over the entire length of the sentence, Morrant had enjoyed himself
very much as he tailed the Prince everywhere like a puppy.  He loved
tormenting the younger elf, often eyeing him lustily as he worked on
his hands and knees scrubbing the floors.  Sometimes he jeered at him
for the amusement of the few elves that were his ‘close’ friends.

Legolas kept his temper in check.  He did not want to give Morrant any
more excuses to make his life even more unbearable.

A few months later, a new adversity unfolded, this time on the second
sibling.  An arranged marriage for his sister, Saiwen was made against
her will.  She had protested too, even threatened to commit suicide but
her pleas fell on deaf ears.  No one in the palace, not even the King’s
most trusted and closest friend could persuade him to change his mind.

The young Prince remembered how sad his sister was.  She cried all day
and refused to eat, locked in her bedchamber so that she could not run
away with her lover.

He had heard from gossips among the servants that her lover was
terribly ill with grief over his loss.

Ever since the arrival of the strange red-haired she-elf into Mirkwood,
things had not been right.  

The King had discovered her while on a hunting trip with his eldest
son, finding her gravely injured and he had brought her back to the
palace immediately.  The healers had done wonders to preserve her life.

Gradually the King had started falling into her charms, and six months
later, her brother arrived, claiming to look for his sister.  He had
stayed in Mirkwood since.

Legolas hated both of them, especially Morrant.  He was like a shadow,
constantly hovering nearby and trying to befriend him.  The Prince felt
uncomfortable around him.  His eyes were always lingering on him,
sometime casting lustful glances.

END OF FLASHBACK

Morrant’s boldness on the previous night had shaken him.  Something had
to be done quickly before Mirkwood and he fell prey to the wrong hands.

Dressing quickly, Prince Legolas wanted to join his ada for breakfast. 
He had hoped to speak to him of his intention to pay a visit to
Rivendell.  However he was disappointed not to find him in the Dining
Hall.

After breakfast alone, he decided to head for the office, but again
could not find his father.  He asked several servants for the
whereabouts of the king and was informed that he could be found in his
royal bedchamber.  The young elf knew whom he would find with the King
in his chamber.

Gathering his wits, he knocked on the door, a bit hesitantly.  He
thought of just running off to Rivendell without asking for permission
but he didn’t like the idea of being banished from Mirkwood when he
returned home.  At least he should try this once.

A gruff voice as if annoyed for being disturbed, told him to enter. 
Legolas turned the door handle and pushed it open.

The scene in front of him made him sick.

The hated she-elf was lying on the huge bed provocatively, the same bed
his ada had shared with his mother until her death.  Legolas bristled
to see that woman tainting the sacred bed his parents had shared.

“What do you want, Legolas?” his ada asked as he sat back against the
headboard, supported by two pillows.

Legolas walked closer to the bed.  He heard a giggle passed between
them.  A menacing glance was directed to the witch, but she didn’t seem
to take notice, and Legolas turned his attention to his ada.

“Ada, I wish to speak to you alone,”

“What you have to say can be said to me now.  Levana is not stranger,”
stated the Golden King.

This was going to be tough.  He did not want Levana to know of his plan
to leave Mirkwood until it was too late because he didn’t want to raise
their suspicions.

Taking a deep breath, he said “I would like to pay a visit to
Rivendell.  It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Lord Elrond and his
children and I miss them dearly.”

To his ears, his voice sounded a little high pitched but he hoped his
ada didn’t catch it.

Levana turned to look at him, her interest heightened.  The young elf
tried to calm his shaking hands as the two of them stared at him.  It
seemed to take an eternity for his ada to answer him.

“No,” he announced flatly.

Legolas was taken aback.  King Thranduil had never denied him visiting
Rivendell.  He knew his son was fond of Lord Elrond’s three children.

“Ada, I only wish…….,” a hint of desperation crept into his tone.

His ada held out a palm to cut him off.

“No.  I want you here at all times,” was all that he would say.  With a
flick of his hand he signaled his son to leave.

Legolas stormed out of the chamber.

Burning with anger, he headed for the archery-training field.  It was
the only place that offered solace when he needed to think.

Right now, his mind was in turmoil.  He needed another plan.  He must
escape from Mirkwood before it was too late.

He was alone in the clearing, which suited him just fine.

Taking a practising set, he nocked a bow.  Then taking aim, he released
it.  As always, it hit dead centre.  The young prince was well known to
be one of the few best archers in the kingdom.

Depleted of arrows, he walked to the tree and was about to pull them
out of the target board when he heard a sound behind him.

Whirling around he was surprised to find Morrant standing in front of
him, almost too close for his liking.  Usually the half-elf never
followed him to the archery field.  

‘May be he was afraid of being shot by one of the arrows,’ Legolas
often thought, bemused.

All of a sudden, Morrant pushed him roughly against the tree and pinned
his body against the Prince.  Legolas was about to push him away but
the elf lord grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head.

The young archer panicked.  He struggled to release his hands from the
steel grips and tried to use his leg to push the bigger elf away.  Of
course, his strength was weaker compared to Morrant.

The bold elf started kissing him and pushed his wet tongue inside. 
Legolas bit it causing Morrant to cry out in pain.  Angered by his
rebelliousness, he backhanded the smaller elf harshly, sending him
sprawling on the hard ground.  Legolas tasted blood on his lips and
looked up angrily.

“Hey!” cried a voice.

Legolas turned to look from behind the bully’s legs at the source of
the voice.  It was his friend Firnnole, standing not far away from
them.

Seeing him Morrant walked away toward the palace.

Firnnole ran to his friend.  He knelt beside the Prince, a worried
frown etched on his face.

“Are you alright?” he asked, concerned.

Legolas nodded and wiped the blood from his lip with the back of his
hand.  Blood smeared on it.

“What happened?” Firnnole continued as he tried to help the blonde elf
to stand up.

“Nothing.  I just said something nasty to him, that’s all.”  Legolas
wondered distractedly where to wipe the blood on his hand and seeing no
other way, he just rubbed it off against the side of his leggings.

Taking the cue, Firnnole did not press him to answer any more
questions.  He did not like Morrant either and avoided him as much as
possible.  The big elf liked bullying a lot and many elves hated him
but could not do anything as he was in favour of the king.

= = = = = =

Title		: Mirkwood’s Impasse
Author		: Red Autumn (red_autumn21@yahoo.com)
Pairing(s)	: Legolas/?
Rating		: NC17, Rape, Angst, Violence
Summary	: Mirkwood’s in danger.  How can a lone elf save it when he,
himself was bound to his enemy in a forced marriage?
Warning	: PLEASE heed the ratings.  Slash contents of graphic and
non-consent sex.
Disclaimer	: Only borrowing Tolkien’s characters for my fantasy.
NOTE		: This fic is AU.
		  Special thanks to beta reader – Anu Anu.



PART 3

King Thranduil was seated on his gold ornate throne when his son
entered the Audience Hall.  As usual, Levana, his bride-to-be, was
beside him wherever he went.  They held hands, eyes constantly on each
other.

He did not even acknowledged Legolas’ presence until the she-elf turned
to look at the grandson of Oropher.

Morrant stood beside the dais looking meek, but his eyes betrayed his
true nature.  A sense of foreboding struck the young elf’s heart.

The usual group of trusted counselors was not present.  Only six palace
guards stood at attention in their stations.

His ada never summoned his children to the Audience Hall.  Usually they
were called to his office or the King would look for them personally. 
On the two occasions that he had, he sent his eldest to an exiled life
and the second to a far away land to marry someone she did not even
know.

After the incident with Morrant this morning, Legolas did not want to
return to the palace immediately.  Instead, he and Firnnole spent most
of the day riding around the forest and swimming in the river.  He
wanted some distraction, to ease his troubled mind and tensed nerves
that Morrant had successfully struck.  Only when Anar had begun to set
behind the forest canopy did the two elves reached home.

A palace guard was waiting for the Prince and immediately informed him
of the King’s summon.  The two young elves looked at each other and
knew the summon meant something woeful would fall on the last heir of
Mirkwood.

FLASHBACK

“Firnnole, you are my best friend.  Can I trust you with something?”
asked the Prince suddenly, breaking the silence.

They had been riding hard for a while and now slowed down to a trot so
that the horses could rest.

Anar had already set halfway over the far end of the forest canopy, the
reddish hue in the sky indicating that the weather would be perfect for
the next few days.

“Yes, of course, Legolas.  I have always been loyal to you since we
were elflings, remember?” answered the other without hesitation,
absentmindedly, running a hand through his silky darker blond hair to
get some of the stray strands out of his face.

The two elves had first met when Legolas was entrusted to learn archery
from Firnnole’s ada, a well-known master in bows and arrows. 
Unfortunately, Firnnole became an orphan a few years later when his ada
was killed while on a patrol at the borders.  Their company was
ambushed by a large group of orcs.  Very few returned home that day.

Being the older of the two, the Prince took it upon himself to help the
lonely elf adjust into a new life.  Ever since that day, the two were
inseparable.  They always looked out for each other and often shared a
bed.

King Thranduil did not mind the friendship, pleased that his son had a
loyal companion who would look out for him.  Firnnole was accepted as a
member of the family.

“I am going to sneak out of Mirkwood and go to Rivendell.  I need you
to help me be my eyes and ears while I am away for I fear that I may
never be allowed to return home again should ada finds out.”

“You are going to recruit help from them, aren’t you?”  Firnnole knew
the answer.  He was well aware of the darkness that was descending upon
Mirkwood.

“Yes.  How long have you been suspecting the two half-elves?”  Legolas
turned to look at his friend intently.

“Long enough,” he answered simply.

“I’m truly sorry that I did not confide with you earlier in this
matter.  I wasn’t sure at first.”

This time it was Firnnole’s turn to glare at him; a brief flash of
anger and pain flickered in those beautiful eyes.

It pained Legolas to see with his own eyes the feeling of being
abandoned due to the mistrust that he had caused his friend to suffer. 
He did not want to leave his friend out but he did not wish to see him
get hurt in the process.

“But you did not trust me enough to tell me?” questioned the younger
elf calmly.

“I trust you with all my heart.  I just didn’t want you to get hurt by
them.”

“I’m not an elfling anymore, Legolas.  We went though our majority
together.”  Firnnole understood how fiercely protective his older
friend could be, an inbred trait from the King.

“I’m sorry,” whispered the young Prince as he cast his head down.

“I will come with you.  It is not safe to travel alone.  Besides it’s a
long journey and you would surely need company,” stated Firnnole in all
seriousness.

Despite his misgivings for the Prince, Firnnole never stayed angry for
very long.

Legolas looked up and stared at his friend.  The Prince noticed for the
first time in centuries the delicate features of his friend.  His eyes
wandered and imprinted them permanently in his mind, every contour on
his face and especially the laughing bluish-grey eyes.  Then the blue
azure orbs locked on to the slightly pouted pink lips.  He wondered…..

The other blond elf became aware that his friend was studying his
features, and now his lips.  Not wanting to disappoint him, Firnnole
gave him a sweet smile.

The younger elf was curious by this new behaviour.  For as long as he
remembered, both knew that Legolas was the most sought after and
desired elf in Mirkwood and Rivendell.  He sometimes wondered why he
never thought of this himself.
The perfect upturned curves on the corner of Firnnole’s lips made the
Prince’s heart skip a beat.  Legolas smiled in return, glad that his
friend had forgiven him so quickly.

“If you come with me, you might be banished too,” he warned.

“I have no family here, Legolas.  You are my only family.  I will go,
whatever the consequences may be.”

Legolas frowned slightly, and a feeling of guilt stabbed his heart, to
involve his friend in such a dangerous mission, but secretly, he was
happy to have him along.  Finally he nodded.

“Race you!” he shouted and then spurred his horse to gallop ahead.

“Not fair!” cried Firnnole from behind and raced after him.

END OF FLASHBACK

Leaving his horse to Firnnole, Legolas followed the guard.  The last
rays of the Anar splashed a beautiful reddish light on the walls and
mosaic tiles along the arcade leading to the Audience Hall.

His treads were slightly heavier than usual, almost weary.  The closer
they got to the Hall, the faster his heart beat.  All kinds of
questions popped up in his mind.

“You were looking for me, ada?” asked Legolas as he walked solemnly
towards the dais.

King Thranduil looked down at his son in silence.  The young Prince
noticed a strange light flash past his ada’s eyes.  Before, the King
had eyes the colour of blue sapphires, almost the same as his son but
now they looked darker and strangely distant.

“Yes.  Levana and I have been discussing about your future,” answered
Thranduil suddenly as if coming out of a trance.

The young Prince’s mood darkened.   How dare that witch discuss his
future?  She was certainly bold now, to flaunt her influence on the
monarchy’s government.

“I’ve only just realised that my little Greenleaf is all grown up now. 
Therefore it is time for you to take a mate who will share your life
happily ever after,” announced King Thranduil proudly and then he
turned to look at his beloved.

A bright smile formed in Levana’s fair face.

Legolas narrowed his eyes threateningly as he stared at Levana with
disdain.  He failed to register what his ada was rambling about by now.
 Then he saw Morrant sneering mockingly.  How he wished to wipe those
smiles off their faces, to rub them out on the dirt floor.

“As you know, we were approached by many offers even before you reached
your majority.  However, I am most delighted to tell you that I have
finally found the right suitor for you,” beamed his ada earnestly.

That last sentence caught the Prince’s attention immediately.

“I refuse to marry anyone that I have no love for,” declared the Prince
before his ada could continue, determined to stand his ground.  He was
going to fight this and deny them their victory.

“Come now my child.  Hear me out.  Once you meet this elf, I am sure
you will change your mind,” his ada coerced sweetly.

A soft snort interrupted them.  Legolas saw Morrant trying his best to
stifle a laugh.

King Thranduil rose from his throne and stepped down the dais.  While
he stood just an arm’s length away from his son, anyone would have
thought that they were almost identical from their slenderness up to
the colour of their hair and eyes.  The only difference was that the
older elf was much taller than his son.

“Let me introduce you to your suitor,” chirped his ada with a genuine
smile.  He turned toward Morrant and beckoned him to come over.

Legolas felt the blood drained from his head and his jaw dropped in
shock.

“Morrant is a good elf, my son.  He will make a fine husband and will
take good care of you.  I was so happy when he approached me with the
proposal.”

Thranduil took Legolas’ right hand and placed it inside Morrant’s
bigger palm.  The half-elf immediately gripped tightly as his smile
became wider, wrinkling the corners of his eyes.  He gazed at the blond
Prince lustily.

“No!” snapped the Prince, snatching his hand back.

Clearly, Morrant was only interested in his body as he had shown so
many times since staying in Mirkwood.  It was outrageous.  How could
his ada accept this bond without asking him first?

“I will never be this bully’s consort!” yelled Legolas shakily.

Turning on his heel, he was about to storm out of the hall.  It was no
use talking to his ada at the moment.  He must get Firnnole and get
away from Mirkwood immediately.

Before he even took two steps, four of the palace guards appeared
suddenly and surrounded him.  Legolas was surprised by their reaction
but was so adamant with his decision that no one could stop him.

However, so were the guards.  The two from behind held his shoulders
and wrists tightly while the two in the front barred his way.  Legolas
wrestled and demanded to be released.

“Bring him here!” ordered the King in a harsh tone.

The struggling prisoner was roughly shoved toward his sire.

“Ada, please tell them to release me,” pleaded Legolas.

“No,” answered his sire.

“Don’t force me, ada.  I will never marry that brute.  He is only doing
it so he can get his hands on Mirkwood,” the young elf was getting
desperate.

“I am your sire and King.  You will obey me without question.  The
wedding will take place and you will serve Lord Morrant as a good
Prince Consort should be,” scowled King Thranduil.  “Take him back to
his chamber and make sure he doesn’t get out until the wedding,” barked
the King to his palace guards.

A sense of dread and fear stabbed into Legolas’ heart.  How could his
ada force him to become a slave to this evil elf?

“Go with him, my ‘son’.  Talk to him and spend time with him.  He will
come to realise how much you care for him,” King Thranduil addressed
Morrant as he watched the guards carry the protesting Prince over their
shoulders.

Morrant didn’t need to be told to stay with the young elf because he
intended to do so anyway, but he was glad that the King gave the
permission personally.
* ~ * ~ *

Firnnole witnessed from his hiding place as the Prince was
humiliatingly carried out of the hall, yelling and fighting against
four palace guards.  Morrant followed immediately behind them.

Stunned and furious, Firnnole could not believe the King could do such
a thing to his youngest child.

His mind and heart were torn between saving his friend, who was clearly
in dire need of his help and getting to Rivendell immediately to seek
Lord Elrond.  The burden of this decision lay heavily on his shoulders.

He decided to take his chance with Rivendell.  He believed that Legolas
would agree with him and even urge him to do it.  It was their only
chance anyway.

It was sheer stupidity to fight against five experienced and strong
warriors.  He would easily be subdued and put to prison.  Worst still,
he could die trying.  Then who would send the message to Lord Elrond
and save Legolas?

The young elf ran as if fire were on his heels to the stable.  It was
up to him now to get help before it was too late to save his dear
friend.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

“Put him on the bed and hold him down,” ordered Morrant as soon as they
entered the bedchamber.

Obediently, the guards followed his instructions.  The Prince was
unceremoniously hauled to the bed and pinned down securely.

“Let me go!  You will be punished for conspiring with this fraud!”
yelled Legolas.

The half-elf straddled the struggling Prince and gripped his chin
firmly, forcing his jaw to open.

Legolas watched helplessly as he held a small yellow phial over his
mouth and emptied the bitter contents.  The young elf screwed his face
at the taste and tried to spit it out but Morrant clamped his mouth
shut and pinched his nose till he had no choice but to swallow it.

Eyes wide with fear; he fought to draw a much-needed breath.  Sensing
it, Morrant finally released his nose but held the other until the
Prince stopped struggling.

The eyelids dropped halfway and the sparkling azure eyes turned
slightly glazed.

Lord Morrant waved his hand to the guards, implying that they should
leave the room.

After the last guard had closed the door behind him, Morrant snickered
as he looked down at his drugged prey.

Even though the world spun around him, Legolas tried to get up, willing
himself to fight off the drug’s effect.  However, he lost the battle
and slumped back.  A frustrated moan escaped from his lips.

The Prince laid vulnerable and helpless, an easy prey to his hungry
predator.

The sound of tearing clothes filled the room as Morrant worked on
getting every shred of fabric off his elf.

The sight of naked flesh made the red haired elf wanted to take his
prisoner immediately.  It took all his will power to stop himself from
slipping his throbbing member inside the tight hot shaft.

He ran his hands over Legolas’ chest, enjoying the soft silky skin. 
When Legolas tried to push his hands away, Morrant grabbed his wrists
and pinned them above his head.  Leaning forward, he kissed the young
elf deeply and demandingly.  He sucked hard and swallowed the sweet
saliva while toying with the timid tongue inside.

The incoherent elf was unable to fight against him, words slurring and
limbs failing to obey their owner.

Slithering down until his face was a finger’s breadth away from the
young elf’s shy member, Morrant eyed it hungrily.  He could not believe
that finally the treasure he had been seeking for so long, lay in front
of him waiting to be claimed.

Without wasting anymore time, he took it wholly into his mouth.  His
tongue circled the limp member, coaxing it rise.  His expert
ministrations soon caused Legolas to moan seductively and bucked
weakly, his member growing bigger and turning hard.

Working reverently, Morrant was soon rewarded with pure nectar from the
forbidden fruit.  He swallowed every drop contently, and unable to hold
much longer, Morrant started to stroke his own member.  For now, his
elf would remain pure and innocent.

The wait until the wedding night would be worth it.  He would take
everything from Legolas and he would slowly savour the feel of the
slippery trembling body beneath him.

The thought itself caused his own body to climax.  His seeds spilled in
a big load on his hand, a reminder of how much he needed to sate his
achingly burning desire.

Patience.  Prince Legolas would be bound to him indefinitely.  He would
make sure of it.

= = = = = =

Title		: Mirkwood’s Impasse
Author		: Red Autumn (red_autumn21@yahoo.com)
Pairing(s)	: Legolas/?
Rating		: NC17, Rape, Angst, Violence
Summary	: Mirkwood’s in danger.  How can a lone elf save it when he,
himself was bound to his enemy in a forced marriage?
Warning	: PLEASE heed the ratings.  Slash contents of graphic and
non-consent sex.
Disclaimer	: Only borrowing Tolkien’s characters for my fantasy.
NOTE		: This fic is AU.
		  Special thanks to beta reader – Anu Anu.



PART 4

For the past few days, the poor elf was kept half-drugged.  It was easy
for Morrant to pour the bitter potion down his throat.  However he did
not use any of his sister’s special concoction to make Legolas obedient
for he preferred to break the young elf himself.

No food ever reached his stomach but the Prince hardly noticed it.  He
just felt terribly weak and floated in a dream-like state.  Most of the
time, he even failed to register the presence of his husband-to-be
laying down beside him at night.

The sheer efforts to keep his weeping member from seeking release were
torturing for Morrant.  Yet, there was nothing to stop him from
ravishing the helpless elf.

Every night when Lord Morrant lay down and wrapped an arm possessively
around the prince’s waist, he was well aware of his own throbbing
manhood sticking out between his legs.

Sometimes when he felt he was about to loose control, he either stroked
himself or he would snake his way between the crack of Legolas’
backside and find the comforting satisfaction of spilling his seeds
within the warm, silky thighs.

With the drug, Morrant planned to keep the Prince under control by
weakening him through a confused mind and starving body so that he
would be in no condition to protest on the day of their marriage.  It
would be easy to manipulate him to agree into the binding.

However, once on their bed that night, Morrant wanted his consort to be
fully conscious and experience their first consummation.  The Prince
would be taught to accept his new role as a submissive slave.

* ~ * ~ *

The small wedding was planned hastily and guests kept to a minimum. 
Among the ten counselors, the only four of them who supported the two
half-elves were invited.  King Thranduil and Levana also attended to
act as witnesses.

No one outside of Mirkwood knew of this bonding but gossips spread like
wild fire.  Soon every elf in the forest knew of the forced marriage
except those at the borders.  Crown Prince Firith would especially be
kept oblivious until after the ceremony and the union because Morrant
did not want him to disrupt his plans.

Firnnole had not been seen for many days but the half-elf was not
concerned by it.  Firnnole was merely a small fly he could swat away
easily.

Many elves were secretly outraged by their King’s decision.  Some even
wondered if he was still sane for putting his children through such
fates.  Nevertheless no one dared to protest openly.
At the wedding, the guests stared in awe when the blonde beauty
appeared.  His silky golden hair was left unbraided and combed free of
all tangles, for all elves are proud of their crown of glory, except
for two small braids above his pointed ears to show his status.  As he
walked the gentle breeze tugged at his shimmering mane.

Prince Legolas Greenleaf was attired magnificently in a matte cobalt
blue shirt and matching leggings with a long, sparkling silvery-blue
sheer robe over it.  Traditionally, the Prince would wear a ceremonial
dagger, an heirloom passed down from fathers to sons on their wedding
days but Morrant forbade it. 

Two palace attendees were assigned to help the Prince make the journey
to the private garden where the marriage would be held.  Even with
their assistance on each side, he still stumbled, wearily making his
way toward the raised dais.

The stone paths leading to the dais were lighted with low hanging blue
lanterns.  Guests stood on either side of the paths, watching proudly
as the young elf continued to make his way to his impatiently waiting
husband-to-be.

The Prince had to climb two steps before being led to the centre. 
Roses of dark red and magnificent sunflowers decorated the dais.  Sheer
pastel coloured cloths were hung from four poles and the excess was
tumbled over three sides, leaving the front open.  White lanterns were
hung strategically so that it would light the dais well yet at the same
time blended with the decorations.

When he finally stood in front of the waiting eldar chosen to perform
the marriage rites, Legolas was almost out of breath.

Morrant standing on the right, smiled triumphantly.  He wore the same
matching colour as his significant other except instead of a robe he
had on a cloak of midnight blue with sparkling little jewels sewn into
it.

Under the lights, Morrant observed that the young elf flushed like a
shy maiden.  His forehead was sheened with sweats under the delicate
and intricately designed circlet.  

One would think that the young warrior was bashful but it was not so. 
He was suffering underneath it all.  Weakness, exhaustion, hunger and
confusion consumed the Prince.  The drug was slowly wearing off and the
few moments his mind was seeing clearly like sunlight breaking through
the clouds, and he attempted to get away.

The bigger elf grabbed his arm tightly, to curb any escape.

Without realizing what he was doing, Legolas mumbled the vows he was
told to repeat.  Just as he finished the sentence, he felt faint.  His
knees buckled and were about to collapse on to the floor but Morrant
caught his consort in time.

Like a victorious champion, he carried his incoherent elf proudly away
as the guests clapped their hands and cheered.  He smiled thinking of
the spoil cradled in his arms.  His mind started imagining what he
would do to his new consort, mostly sadistically.

Morrant finally stopped outside the door to their new bedchamber,
located furthers from the main corridor, where all of the royal family
and honored guests occupied.  He shifted his handful slightly and
turned the door handle.

Inside, the room was huge and richly decorated like all other parts of
the palace.  King Thranduil has a love for wealth and liked to show
off.

Richly coloured heavy curtains hung on the windows.  Intricate carvings
of flowers adorned the upper part of the walls and ceilings.  Four
candlelabras consisting of nine lighted candles stood on each corner,
their flickering lights making the shadows danced on the walls.

The huge bed stood against a wall parallel to the windows.   Someone
had strewn petals of roses on the sheets and pillows.  A jar of clear
content stood on top of the bedside table.  

The red haired elf dropped Legolas on to the middle of the bed.  Then
he carefully removed the circlet and the rest of his prince’s clothes. 
His eyes basked on the naked glory in front of him, unclaimed and
unmarked.

However, Morrant had no intention of taking the Prince just yet.  He
opened a small drawer of the side table and took out a tiny vial with
sharp foul smell.  Placing it close to the motionless elf’s nose, he
waited for a reaction.

Legolas woke up with a jerk, twisting his head to the side sharply. 
After Morrant had returned the vial into the drawer the Prince turned
around again.  He stared at Morrant blankly for a few moments and then
shook his head to clear the fog in his brain.

“That was a beautiful vow you sworn to me,” purred Morrant
affectionally.

The new consort looked at him, puzzled.  Suddenly he remembered – the
clothes, the guests, the garden, the ring…..  The ring!  He held his
right hand up and saw the gold band on his finger.

“No!” was all Legolas could say.  His eyes wide and round as the moon.

Morrant smiled wickedly.  Tonight this elf would be his.

He pushed him back on the bed and straddled him.  Immediately Legolas
struggled to get away, shoving and trying to hit his new husband but
stopped when Morrant managed to slap him harshly.  Blood stained the
corner of his perfect lips.

The blond Prince glared at him angrily but utter dread struck his heart
for he knew he would not be able to escape his husband’s clutches until
he gets what he wanted.

The contempt cost him another blow to his sculpted cheek and soon
Morrant continued hitting his head from both sides until Legolas had to
protect himself by cowering behind raised forearms.

In a mood for domination, Morrant moved lower and started punching his
abdomen, raising angry welts.  Intense pain and the air being driven
out of his lungs caused Legolas to double over, weakening him fast.

Paralyzed, he did not notice that Morrant had stopped beating him and
was quickly taking off his own clothes.

Positioning himself between the white thighs, he opened the jar and
took a dollop of gel.  After lubricating himself, he pushed Legolas’
legs up to his heaving chest.

As if in slow motion, Legolas watched his husband moved forward
followed closely by an intense pain that shot through his body.  He
shrieked in agony while his back arched rigidly.

Cold sweats seeped from every pore on his skin and tears flowed from
helplessness and desperation.  His carefully built mask of fearlessness
crumbled to dust.

His fingers clutched the sheets for dear life as his body was pounded
mercilessly hard.  Whenever he tried to drop his exhausted and shaking
legs, Morrant would shove them up again so that he could have better
access.

The half elf tirelessly molested the Prince, making sure that every
mark that he made on the perfect skin would remind the Prince whom he
belonged to.  Every whisper that he filled the delicate ears with would
be sealed in that innocent mind for eternity.  Every scream that he
forced from the Prince, he would savour it like fine wines.

The union had sealed their bonding forever.  No one in Middle-Earth
could stop Morrant now.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

So much pain and it throbbed like a white-hot pulsing star.

A moan broke the silence of the morning.  It came from a pitiful
creature lying on his side.  Smeared blood caked on his left shoulder
where teeth marks were imbedded.  Colourful bruises covered his limbs
and especially his abdomen.  Dark red blood stained his inner thighs,
the worst indication of how much the elf was suffering.

Morrant was already awake and sat with his back against the dark wood
of the headboard, dutifully looking over his consort whose back was
facing him.  He was in a good mood this morning.  His needy and
frustrated body was fully sated for now but he would have more later. 
He always needed more.

He knew of the Prince’s predicament for he could see the results of his
handy work.  No healer would be allowed to attend to his consort for it
was his intention to make the feisty elf suffer.  It was part of the
process in breaking the Prince.

Memories reeled in his mind of the previous night’s event.  Scenes of
his elf’s sweaty trembling body underneath his, his screams of despair,
the smell of his hair and body mixed with fear, the feel of soft flesh
and especially the terrified azure eyes when he ravished him.

Yes, he claimed Legolas’ innocence and the young Prince must accept his
fate.

Distractedly, Morrant ran his long fingers through the tousled hair
relishing the feel of silkiness against his skin.

“Good morning, my little Greenleaf,” chirped the big elf.

Legolas tensed immediately.  Tears rolled down his face in silence.

“I have a present for you, my love and I was waiting for you to wake up
so I can let you see it.”

Reaching to his side, he produced a pair of mithril bracelets studded
with twelve diamonds and twelve sapphires on each ring.  Propping his
body over his consort, he held the slender wrists and cuffed them.

The young elf was too weak to pull his hands away before Morrant could
put them on him.

“This is my wedding present to you.  It is mithril and expensive gems
that only you are worthy enough to have.  There is no way to get rid of
these unless you cut off your hands,” he whispered to the dainty
pointed ear.

A sharp pain grasped the poor elf’s heart when he heard the words.  He
stared apprehensively at his husband’s gift.  More tears rolled down
his cheeks.
“What do you say when receiving gifts from your master?” Morrant asked
brusquely, as he grabbed a handful of hair and pulled, jerking the wet
face to mere inches from his.

Legolas cringed.

“T..thank…you,” hissed the young consort in pain.

Without warning, Morrant punched his kidney heartlessly.

Pain erupted like a ball of fire making him stopped breathing for a
while.  He clutched his side until the hurt subsided slightly.

“You are my consort now and I am your master.  You will obey me and you
will appreciate what I give you.  So, what should you say?” he spoke
harshly into the sensitive ear.

The tones were sharp and the Prince tried to sink further into the bed
but was unable to get away from his new mate.

“Th..th…ank you, mas..ter,” stammered Legolas.  He balled his fists
tightly.

His disgrace was now complete.  His own ada had made him a slave
consort to a cruel master who has only interest in his body and making
him suffer.

“Good elf.  Now, lets have some breakfast, shall we?” beamed Morrant,
his mood suddenly changed.

In truth the couple could have breakfast in bed, but Morrant wanted to
show everyone that their beloved Prince now has a new master.

He got up and took a robe from the drawers, throwing one to his consort
while he took another one for himself.

Then he slipped a long mithril chain through the bracelets’ loops and
fastened them securely, adjusting the length to serve his purpose.

The half elf pulled the chain, urging the prisoner to get up.

Legolas got up slowly, clutching his belly but Morrant yanked hard,
causing him to stumble out of bed and fall forward unsteadily.

The Prince tried to keep up with his husband’s long strides.  Gone were
the once graceful steps, now replaced with a slight limp and weary
tread.  He stumbled a few times, which made the red haired elf angry. 
Each step caused a lot of pain and it became steadily worse but he did
not complain.

Without the leggings underneath the robe, he was consciously
uncomfortable that every step he took would reveal naked flesh and
something else too.

A few elves that they had passed by stared incredulously, making
Legolas turned red.

When they entered the dining room, a hush fell suddenly.  All eyes were
on the new arrivals.

Everyone in the room saw the chain and bracelets on the young Prince’s
wrists.  

Legolas was so humiliated that he looked down most of the time.  He
wished to avoid their pity filled stares.

The couple walked toward the two empty seats beside the King’s. 
Normally Legolas would sit beside his ada but this time Morrant took
the seat and made his consort sit next to him instead.

He winced silently as he sat on the chair gingerly.  Sweats began to
trickle down his back and the side of his face.

Soon King Thranduil and Levana entered.  Everyone stood up to greet
them.

The King looked once at Legolas but failed to show any signs of
emotion.  However Levana couldn’t help but smiled.

“Ai, the passion of newly weds.  You look a little pale this morning,
Prince Legolas.  Morrant, you should have let him ‘stay’ in bed today,”
chastised his sister playfully.

Morrant smiled sheepishly while the young elf burnt bright red.

“Don’t worry dear sister.  I will.”

When the steward was about to serve food onto Legolas’ plate, Morrant
stopped him.

“Skip his plate.  I will take care of it personally,” said Morrant.

Both the consort and the steward looked at him disbelievingly but
Legolas was too weak to protest.  He wanted the breakfast over with
quickly so that he could drown himself in the sink of their bedchamber.

The steward looked at the King for support but the elf seemed to ignore
them.  He was about to protest openly but saw the Prince shook his head
once, faintly.  He bit his tongue and walked away silently.  Boiling
with anger, he could not bear to see the Prince suffers so.  He would
definitely join the secret group of rebels that he heard whispered
around.

As everyone ate silently, Morrant placed a hand on his consort’s
thighs.  First caressing gently, he then moved toward his crotch and
grabbed it.  The unexpected action made Legolas almost spit the
contents in his mouth across the table.

Everyone stared at him curiously.  The Prince mumbled an apology and
sank further down the chair.

= = = = = =

Title		: Mirkwood’s Impasse
Author		: Red Autumn (red_autumn21@yahoo.com)
Pairing(s)	: Legolas/?
Rating		: NC17, Rape, Angst, Violence
Summary	: Mirkwood’s in danger.  How can a lone elf save it when he,
himself was bound to his enemy in a forced marriage?
Warning	: PLEASE heed the ratings.  Slash contents of graphic and
non-consent sex.
Disclaimer	: Only borrowing Tolkien’s characters for my fantasy.
NOTE		: This fic is AU.
		  Special thanks to beta reader – Anu Anu.



PART 5

Anar shone bright and hot today, the sky blue and clear of any clouds. 
‘Legolas would love to ride wild in this weather,’ thought Firnnole.

His heart would fill with sorrow every time he was reminded of his
friend.  He could not help it.

Firnnole rode fast and hard each day, urging the horse to carry him as
far as it could.  He stopped minimally to allow the horse to rest but
never entirely.  The young elf would coax the horse to walk side by
side with him.  He could not afford to tarry.  His friend’s life was in
danger.

In his loneliness, his mind often wandered away on its own, usually to
thoughts about Legolas.

Memories of the Prince being roughly handled out of the Audience Hall
sickened him.  He had wanted so furiously to help him first but, as he
had to remind himself constantly, it was best to trust his judgment
that he had decided correctly.

He hoped.

Luckily for him, the journey was quite uneventful.  He thanked the
Valar for this help.  It meant he could reach Imladris much faster.

The experience he had from his previous visit told him that he was
nearing the border.  He was not sure, but he thought he caught glimpses
of shadows flitting between the tall trees.

All elves have sharp eyes and hearings, making it easy for him to
detect such movements.  His only hope was that they were the border
patrol guards of Imladris.

The young elf of Mirkwood eyed both sides of the forest uneasily.  His
keen eyes roamed along the dark shadows between treetops and the brush
underneath.  His heart raced, almost popping out of his ribs but he
urged his horse on a steady pace along the barely visible dirt path. 
The brown spotted mare also gave hints of being uneasy but ran
steadily.

Just as they were about to turn on a bend, Firnnole unsheathed his
double bladed elven sword.  

True to his instincts, he met two strangers on horsebacks, waiting for
him at the centre of the path, clad in cream and reddish-brown clothes
to camouflage themselves.  Their arrows were nocked and aimed at him.

Pulling in his reins to stop the horse, he waited silently and
patiently.  He must show these elves that he meant them no harm, and so
very slowly he put his sword away.

His eyes studied them intently but he never letting his guard down to
his surroundings least he be ambushed unexpectedly.

He wished he had his bow and arrows to even the odds should they be
unfriendly but in his haste, he had only managed to bring the sword and
the cloak he was wearing.

“State your business stranger!” called out one of them in Quenya.

Before he could answer, the young elf realised he was trapped as more
elves appeared from the forest and aimed their drawn arrows at him.  He
was seriously outnumbered and hundreds of arrows would pin him like a
porcupine before he fell to the ground.

“My name is Firnnole from Mirkwood,” he answered as he swallowed hard. 
“I’ve come with news of bad tidings from our forest and I hope to seek
help from the Lord of Imladris.”

‘Please, please let me see Lord Elrond,’ thought Firnnole urgently.

The two elves conversed with each other for a while and then turned
back their attention to him.

“We will escort you, but do not try anything foolish,” warned one of
them.

Firnnole felt relieved and rode toward them slowly, heeding their
warnings.  The two elves flanked him on both sides while the rest of
them disappeared as suddenly as if they were never there.  He was well
aware that the two guards regarded him closely.

The three elves rode silently for hours.  By early nightfall, they
finally reached the gates into the ‘Last Homely House’.

A tall blonde elf stood alone at the top of the stone-stacked steps
attached to the bailey, his eyes trained expectantly to the main
entrance for the arrivals.  

Obviously someone had informed him of the new comer.  He waited
patiently for them to approach closer.

“Welcome back to Rivendell, Firnnole.  It’s been a long time and you
have not visited us,” greeted the blonde elf warmly.  He flashed a wide
smile at his young friend.

Firnnole smiled in return.  He recognised Glorfindel and was glad that
he remembered him.  Quickly he dismounted.

“Thank you Lord Glorfindel.  I was afraid that you would not remember
me since my last visit,” relief sounded in his voice as he bowed in
respect to the eldar.

“Why ever not?  Prince Legolas may be well known, but who could forget
the shy and beautiful friend who is always beside him?”

The young elf blushed furiously by the compliments.  He was not used to
being told that he was beautiful because wherever he went, Legolas’
beauty always overshadowed his.

“Thank, you,” murmured Firnnole shyly.

“Come, let’s get you something to eat first while we discuss these
‘ill’ tidings you have carried so urgently to Rivendell.  Thank you
Tuse, Rofin.  You may go now.”

The patrollers nodded once and left, leaving the young new comer in the
blond Lord’s care.

The two elves entered the manor without any further conversation. 
Firnnole saw a frown graced the fair face of the one walking beside him
but he did not say anything.

They headed straight for the kitchen where Lord Elrond was already
seated, drinking a glass of juice absentmindedly.  When he heard
Glorfindel coughed to accounce them, he looked up.

“Firnnole, it is nice to see you again.”  The Lord of Imladris smiled
warmly but his eyes showed anxiousness.  He patted the seat next to
him.

“It is always a pleasure to be here in Rivendell, Lord Elrond,”
answered the young elf as he bowed slightly before taking the seat that
the elf Lord had indicated to him.

The young elf silently thanked Legolas for teaching him the proper
manners when confronting someone of higher station.  It was always
useful, especially now.

Glorfindel took a seat next to the peredhel opposite their young guest.
 His eyes stared, enrapt, on Firnnole, causing the young one to shift
uncomfortably.  He briefly wondered how Legolas could calmly ignore the
unwanted stares of others?

“Leyla, could you please prepare some food for our young friend here?”
called out Lord Elrond when he saw the she-elf entered the kitchen.

The First Cook of Imladris smiled and bustled away.

“Here, drink some juice before you begin,” added Elrond as he poured a
glass and handed it to the young elf.

“Thank you, Lord Elrond.”

Taking the glass appreciatively he drank in one gulp, only realizing
how thirsty he was for the first time.

The raven-haired Lord turned to the older blond, a knowing look passed
between them.  They had been following the rumors about the happenings
in Mirkwood for months.  Then Prince Legolas personally confirmed the
news until the messenger stopped coming.  It worried the two lords with
this new turn of event.

“My lords, how much do you know about what has happened in Mirkwood?”
started Firnnole as he set the empty glass down.  Lord Elrond filled
the glass again.

“Thank you,” said Firnnole.  Elrond acknowledged him with a nod.

“So far, we’ve received confirmed news from Legolas that Firith was
forced to stay at the border of Mirkwood while his sister was married
off to a stranger.  We also knew that King Thranduil would soon take a
new wife,” Glorfindel answered this time.

“Well before I left Mirkwood, I personally witnessed Prince Legolas
being forced to marry Lord Morrant by King Thranduil.  Not only that,
Crown Prince Firith did not know of this binding.”

Both Lords of Imladris sat up straight abruptly, shock registered in
their faces.
“That means it happened two weeks ago, if you did not dally in your
journey here,” Elrond spoke finally.

“I really wanted to save him first but I didn’t have any choice.  Lord
Morrant is a very possessive and persistent elf.  I was afraid that if
I died trying, then no one would be able to take my place and come here
to seek help,” murmured Firnnole as he looked down sadly.  Tears welled
in his eyes as he watched his fingers wrung nervously.

“Don’t worry Firnnole.  You’ve made the right decision.  You were right
in coming here first because you could not fight them alone,” soothed
Lord Elrond.  He placed a hand on the young elf’s shoulder and gave it
a reassuring squeeze.

Just then Leyla appeared and placed a plate of food in front of
Firnnole.  He looked up with glassy eyes.  A faint smile appeared.

“Thank you Mistress Leyla,” said Firnnole politely.

He liked the she-elf very much for he remembered that she always serves
delicious food.  Besides that she was very kind and nice to him, almost
like a mother.

“Don’t mention it Firnnole. “  She ruffled his hair and left after
saying good night to everyone.

“Tell us what happened?” enquired Glorfindel with a hint of worry.

“For months, Lord Morrant has been trying to court our youngest Prince
but Legolas has refused him, of course.  I’ve seen the bully getting
bolder day by day.  Prince Legolas tried to cover it, not wanting to
shame his ada but I knew.  I witnessed it on the occasion he tried to
corner Prince Legolas when he thought that no one was looking,”

Anger sparked in the two older elves.

“We have heard that this Morrant was not popular among citizens of
Mirkwood,” said Lord Elrond.

“Yes.  He bullies everyone,”

“Surely the King would not allow it?” interjected Glorfindel.

Firnnole started relating all that he knew and the conversation the two
elves had before that fateful day.

Like looking at a mirror, both the great Lords sat back at the same
time and let out a single long sigh.  Out of habit, they both scratched
the back of their heads.

The young elf noted their identical actions with amusement.  The blonde
elf and raven-haired half elf were inseparable since anyone could
remember.  They had unknowingly picked up each other’s quirks and
habits.

“Firnnole, I think it is better you take a rest now.  You’ve traveled
so far.  Tomorrow we shall meet again after breakfast.  We shall then
discuss these things further in my study,” said Lord Elrond finally.

“Yes my Lords.  I thank you again for your hospitality.”  He stood up
and tried in vain to stifle a yawn.

Glorfindel instructed a servant to bring Firnnole to the guest
quarters.

After he had left, the two elders went out of the kitchen together and
headed for their own bedchambers.

“What do you think, Elrond?”

“I don’t know, my friend.  I only hope the Prince is still alive when
we try to rescue Mirkwood,”

They continued walking silently down the long and winding corridors.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Soon after breakfast, the Lord of Imladris, Glorfindel, the twins and
Firnnole headed straight for the study.

While the two elders spoke quietly between themselves, Firnnole
followed silently not far behind.  The twins gave a knowing look to
each other and immediately flanked the young elf in between them.

The identical Princes of Rivendell were well known to be ‘flirty’.  The
smaller elf felt uncomfortable being sandwiched by them and he still
remembered Legolas’ warnings on his previous visit.

“It’s really nice to see you again, Firnnole.  We’ve often wondered
when you would come back to Rivendell for we missed your shy presence,”
said of them.

Firnnole could not tell which was which.

“Yes, and Legolas had been selfishly keeping you to himself all the
time.  We didn’t even get the chance to ‘know’ you better,” continued
the other one.  Then he put a hand over the young elf’s shoulder.

Firnnole tensed slightly but he didn’t shrug the arm away.  He didn’t
want to offend them, as he was only a guest in Rivendell and to beg for
help.  Further more, he was only an insignificant elf therefore he must
behave.  He smiled nervously to them, as he did not know what to say.
“Would you like to go riding after this?”

“I…..” Firnnole was about to answer when thankfully they’ve arrived to
the study.

The young blond elf was greatly impressed and completely astounded by
the sheer volumes of books, maps and other documents filling the huge
study.  Despite the size, the chamber was kept neat and tidy.  It was
also tastefully decorated as befit a Lord.

They moved to the centre of the main room and sat down.  Without
missing a beat, the twins took their seats beside Firnnole.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Finally Firnnole was allowed to leave the study.  He was beginning to
think that he would have the spent the night there.

He had walked along the corridor after getting out of the study and
stopped at the end.  He took a deep breath of the early evening fresh
air and stretched like a cat.

Suddenly, a hand snaked around his slender waist and pulled him back. 
It startled him.

“Be careful, you could fall over,” whispered a melodious voice into his
ear.

Firnnole knew very well that he was not likely to fall over the
railings.  He turned his head to look at the owner of the voice and was
not surprised to meet a pair of brown eyes and a mane of dark hair.

“I thank you for your concern, my Lord,” said Firnnole trying not to
show his annoyance.

However the arm did not leave his waist.  The young elf was about to
pry it away when another arm fell across his shoulder.  A little push
by both of them meant that they were urging him to walk with them.

“Where are we going?” queried Firnnole apprehensively.

“To go riding, remember?” said the one with his hand circling his back.

Letting go a sigh of resignation, the young elf knew he was not going
to get away easily.  The twins were relentless.  It reminded him very
much of how Lord Morrant was on to Legolas.  A chill ran down his spine
as he remembered again his friend being carried away with Lord Morrant
following behind them.

“Are you cold, Firnnole?” enquired one of the twins.  He quickly pulled
the innocent elf closer to his body while his brother did the same on
the other side.

It was difficult for the hapless elf to walk gracefully as the twins
crushed their bodies against his sides.

“I’m alright,” he said trying to break away.  They were getting too
close for his liking.

“Well, looks like you’re not up to the riding tonight.  How about the
garden then?  There’s a half-moon tonight and the view of the falls are
magnificent at this time,”

Before he could think of a polite way to excuse himself, he was pushed
by the twins through the puzzling maze of corridors.  Soon they reached
the garden.

The twins were right.  The view was most impressive.  He couldn’t help
showing his awe out loud.

They walked further down the flagstones until they reached a huge lake.
 There, they sat down.

Elladan and Elrohir purposely sat closely to their young friend so that
he could not get away so easily.

Fascination evaporated when he felt one of them caressing his back
uncomfortably while the other placed a hand over his right thigh and
rubbed as if to try and warm his legs.

In an attack of panic, Firnnole stood up hastily; bumping the twins
apart and then ran off into the dark, hopefully back towards the manor.
 He heard the twins giggled behind him.

Luckily he found his way to the Last Homely House and headed straight
for his bedchamber.  Closing the door behind him, he sighed heavily.

That was close.  I hope Lord Elrond can think of something quickly.  I
want to go away soon, he thought.

= = = = = =

Title		: Mirkwood’s Impasse
Author		: Red Autumn (red_autumn21@yahoo.com)
Pairing(s)	: Legolas/?
Rating		: NC17, Rape, Angst, Violence
Summary	: Mirkwood’s in danger.  How can a lone elf save it when he,
himself was bound to his enemy in a forced marriage?
Warning	: PLEASE heed the ratings.  Slash contents of graphic and
non-consent sex.
Disclaimer	: Only borrowing Tolkien’s characters for my fantasy.
NOTE		: This fic is AU.
		  Special thanks to beta reader – Anu Anu.



PART 6

The Prince was an early riser.  As soon as Anar appeared, he could be
seen up and about the palace.

Most of the time Firnnole could be seen beside him and they would
always have breakfast together.  The elves that were familiar with the
young one couldn’t help wonder if the two blond elves were in a
relationship.  For those who did not know, they often mistook Firnnole
as the youngest Prince and Legolas was the Crown Prince.

The blond Prince missed his friend very much.  He had not seen him
since he was dragged out of the Audience Hall.  He hoped that he had
managed to sneak out of Mirkwood and find help from Lord Elrond.  He
did not mind if Firnnole did not come to aid him first.  There are some
sacrifices a Prince must make for the sake of the elves in Mirkwood.

Despite the previous night’s exhaustive demands by his husband, Legolas
did not break his habit.

So as not to wake the other, the young elf gingerly pried away the arm
flung possessively over his abdomen.

It woke Morrant anyway and instantaneously tightened his arm around the
waist.  He pulled his consort sharply causing the Prince’s smaller back
to crash onto his front.  The Prince knew better than to fight back.

“Where do you think you are going?” growled a sleepy voice.

“Just to the bathroom,” lied Legolas.

In truth, he wanted to go to the window and lean out.  He wanted a
brief respite, away from his husband’s incessant clutches.

Unconvinced, Morrant climbed on top of his elf and crushed his lips on
those of his unwilling consort.  His tongue poked relentlessly, forcing
entry.

Legolas tried to squirm away from underneath the heavy weight, but
Morrant refused to yield.

Since the wedding their routine had been the same almost every day. 
The bigger elf enjoyed dominating the Prince and the sight of his pale
naked body sent him charging for the pure ecstasy of being inside the
hot, tight shaft.

The helpless elf knew it was no use to struggle hard as his husband
would have his way anyway.  He tried to conserve his energy in taking
the pain instead, which always left him utterly exhausted.  He was
constantly living in pain and humiliation.

Luckily, this morning Morrant did not demand for more than a deep kiss.

Satisfied for the moment, he got up and told Legolas to prepare for the
long journey to Gondor.

He had spoken to King Thranduil two days ago of his intention to go to
Gondor.  He told the King that he needed to check on his estate, that
it had been was left behind for too long.

While Morrant headed to the bathroom to relieve himself, Legolas got
off the bed stiffly.  Still naked, he hobbled to the washbasin.  His
new master had strictly prohibited him from wearing any clothes while
in their bedchamber.  The lecherous elf finds delight in taunting the
Prince with sexual advances.

The water swirled as it fell from the jug into the basin.  He was about
to dip his hands in when he caught his own image in the mirror.

An elfling with tussled golden locks and gaunt face stared back at him.
 It shocked him.  The blue eyes in the mirror seemed lifeless, a sign
that he was grieving.

When Morrant walked into the room again, Legolas shook himself out of
the reverie.  After quickly washing his face, he went to the cupboard
to retrieve some clothes.  He wished he could take a long hot bath to
wash away the half-elf’s smell but he would suffer a severe punishment
for even mentioning it.

The Prince’s new outfits now consisted entirely of knee-length robes of
finest silk and other cloth.  Except for leggings, he was not allowed
to wear any tunic or undershirt unless his husband approved it.

A light green robe with maroon leggings were chosen.  Then he brushed
his hair but did not braid it.

There were many rules the young elf had to learn and obey, sometimes
the hard way.

Legolas hated his husband for treating him like a pretty doll.

As soon as they were ready, the flaming red haired elf locked his hand
with his consort’s like lovers and dragged him out of the chamber.

After a quick breakfast they grouped outside in the bailey of the
palace where six mercenaries waited for them.  Morrant preferred men to
elves in his employ, for men were greedy and willing to do anything for
the right amount of money.

The vast amount of wealth collected from previous ‘enterprises’ caused
Morrant to be particular about hiring well trained and disciplined men.
 A shrewd businessman collects many enemies.

The men he hired were clean and professional.  They were well armed and
confident.

Legolas was told to mount his horse first.  Then Morrant slipped a
chain between the bracelets and attached it securely to the saddle. 
The Prince was allowed to ride his own horse, a white stallion but the
chains were necessary to restrict his chances of escape.

The six mercenaries were not hired just to protect them but also to
keep an eye on his elf in case he tries something.

After everyone had mounted their horses they galloped away.  Two lead
the way and two guarded the rear.  The other two rode beside the couple
as ordered by their employer.
No one came to send them off.

The ride to Gondor would take them two weeks, provided that they did
not stop too much.

On their first stop for the night every one was silent during dinner. 
Only the sounds of night creatures surrounded them.  Occasionally, one
or two of the men stole quick glances at Legolas.  They were very much
taken by his unearthly beauty.

After dinner, the men sat around the fire and smoked their pipes, each
in their own thoughts.  The young elf sat beside his husband, staring
blankly into the fire.

“Legolas go to bed now and take off your clothes,” said Morrant
suddenly, jerking the young elf out of his thoughts.

Everyone looked at the blond elf who blushed furiously.  Legolas had
laid their bedding not far away from the fire and in full view of
everyone.

He wanted to protest but Morrant glared menacingly at him.

Reluctantly, he shuffled to their bedding and almost wanted to run into
the forest.  However he decided against it.  Morrant was no fool and
the men he hired were cunning.  He would be captured before he could
run out of their sights.

He sat down and removed his shoes.  Then he turned around so that his
back would face the men.  As the robe slid down his shoulders, he heard
gasps behind him.

Legolas closed his eyes in embarrassment.

“Turn around, all of you!” he heard the half-elf barked.

There were soft mumbles followed by sounds of feet shuffling.

Legolas jumped when he felt a pair of strong hands fell on his
shoulders.

“Take it all off, now,” said the voice from above.

The young elf took off his leggings and then laid down.

Morrant’s member was already big and hard when he pulled down his own
leggings.  He crept up to his consort between the splayed thighs, and
laid on top.

The elf underneath gulped audibly.

The half-elf did not like long foreplays.  He only looked forward to
entering the hot, dank shaft.  He kissed his elf deeply before
entering.

A soft restrained cry escaped from the poor elf beneath.  His eyes were
shut tightly.

As Morrant moved, Legolas gripped the edges of the bedding till his
knuckles turned white; and continued doing so until Morrant was done
with him and rolled off.

Before falling asleep, Morrant propped half his body on top of Legolas
and making sure his leg crossed both Legolas’ so that the young consort
could not run away undetected.

The Prince could not fall asleep immediately even though he was
terribly tired.  He felt a chill in his body even though the blanket
was thick and his husband’s body gave warmth.

He looked up into the sky and wandered aimlessly among the stars.  He
wondered how is Firnnole was faring?

Unknown to him, was wondering the same.

= = = = = =

Title		: Mirkwood’s Impasse
Author		: Red Autumn (red_autumn21@yahoo.com)
Pairing(s)	: Legolas/?
Rating		: NC17, Rape, Angst, Violence
Summary	: Mirkwood’s in danger.  How can a lone elf save it when he,
himself was bound to his enemy in a forced marriage?
Warning	: PLEASE heed the ratings.  Slash contents of graphic and
non-consent sex.
Disclaimer	: Only borrowing Tolkien’s characters for my fantasy.
NOTE		: This fic is AU.
		  Special thanks to beta reader – Anu Anu.



PART 7

Flags flapped proudly all over Minas Tirith.  The White Tower Guard
shone brightly under the Anar and citizens bustled busily with their
own agendas.

The weather had been good with a few fluffy clouds in the deep blue
sky, a great day for a stroll.

Aragorn, the King of Gondor decided to take a break on such a beautiful
day.  Taking the disguise as a ranger, he had to sneak out of the
palace before he could wander around without being bothered by any of
his men.  Sometimes, Boromir, the Steward of Gondor accompanied him.

Roaming around incognito was an enjoyable event that Aragorn finds hard
to obtain these days as the duties of a king swamps him daily.

Suddenly the disguised King heard a commotion about five stalls down
from where he was inspecting some finely made daggers.  The first thing
that entered his mind was a fight had broken out.

Like everyone else, he headed for the main crowd.  As he was tall, he
could easily peer over everyone else’s head.

Six men who looked like mercenaries surrounded two richly attired
couple.  To be able to hire so many professional mercenaries meant that
one must be very rich.  It is understandable for the great need of such
services as traveling are perilous these days especially when the
couple easily attracts attention.

A tall and big man with flaming red hair tied in a ponytail sat
straight and arrogantly on his horse.  No one suspected that he had
carefully hidden his pointy ears under the tresses.  He wore the finest
silk robe matching only the King’s and a warm cloak around him. 
Aragorn did not like the look of his face.  His instinct told him that
this man was not to be trusted nor underestimated.

His companion was a wonder to behold.  Her long beautiful golden hair
cascaded around her shoulders that out shined even the Anar. 
Unfortunately, Aragorn could only catch glimpses of pale, delicate
features as her head was constantly bowed down as if shy.

Her robe was equally as rich as her lord though he found it strange
that she wore a pair of leggings underneath.  As the horse jerked
suddenly, Aragorn caught sight of a tiny pointed tip peeking out of the
golden locks.

An elf!

He was not the only one who observed it as he heard several gasps and
murmurs around him.

The King of Gondor was surprised that such a delicate and beautiful
creature would bed with this man.  He tried to observe better to see if
she is wearing a gold ring to indicate her binding to him and he found
one on a long smooth finger.  He also discovered a pair of mithril
bracelets encrusted with diamonds and sapphires on her thin delicate
wrists.

Something shiny between the enfolded hands caught his eyes.  On closer
inspection, the ex-ranger saw a short chain attached to the two
bracelets and a longer one from the middle chained to the saddle.
A slave!

Suddenly it all made sense.  Her meekness was a sign of being
submissive, bound for life to this man.

As if drawn to his intent stares, she looked up and directly at him. 
Their eyes locked for a few seconds before the group broke the crowd
and trotted away.

The King sucked his breathe in disbelief.

The azure eyes!  It’s so much like…….

The revelation made Aragorn frown.  For a few months he received
disturbing news about Mirkwood from his foster ada.  But if Legolas is
a slave consort, what had happened in Mirkwood?  He must follow the
group.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

After picking up a package wrapped in brown leather, the group headed
out of the city walls.

It was a long ride through a maze in the forest but finally they’ve
arrived to a miniature fort well hidden from direct sight from all
around.  A huge beautiful manor stood proud in the middle of it.

Aragorn stopped beneath a tall tree not far away and climbed to the
top.  He had not climbed for many years; therefore he was not so
graceful.

From his hidden position, he saw the group dismounted.  Then he
observed the red haired man pulled his consort by the chains roughly,
causing the young elf to stumble after him.  Aragon growled deep in his
throat.  He didn’t like the way this bully treated the fair elf.

If the slave consort was really Legolas, he will make the man pay ten
folds for mistreating his good friend.

At the moment, there is nothing he could do.  H had to wait till
nighttime to rescue the Prince.  Meanwhile he took the time to observe
the security measures within the fort.

* ~ * ~ *

Legolas had to run to keep up with his husband’s long strides.  He
couldn’t understand why his mood suddenly darkened.

The young elf did not know where they were headed as they passed
through a long passage full of white marble busts atop pedestals and
shields of various sizes and weapons of all races graced the walls.

After passing by so many identical doors, Morrant finally stopped and
opened one.  He roughly pushed his consort into a spacious chamber
richly decorated with plundered wealth taken from unsuspecting victims.

The angry half elf pushed his consort on to the bed and started
slapping him left and right.  Legolas tried to protect himself from the
brute force but Morrant pulled the chains, the sharp edges of the
bracelets cutting the wrists nastily.

Ears ringing and slightly dazed, he did not hear Morrant opened a
drawer and took out a short leather whip.  Raising it above his head,
he sent it down slicing through the air to land on Legolas’ chest.  The
Prince yelped in pain and turned around to protect his front.

More lashings landed on his back, tearing the delicate fabric to
tatters.  Strands of blond hair were ripped from his head as some were
caught on the leather of the whip.

Legolas balled himself up and used both cuffed hands to protect his
head.  Blood from the open wounds began seeping into the ruined clothes
and many angry weals surfaced where exposed skin could be seen.

In spite of the suffering, the blond elf bit his lips till they bleed
as he tried not to cry out.

When tempers had toned down slightly, Morrant stopped.  He grabbed a
handful of hair and pulled its head sharply.  Tears stained the
trembling elf’s face.

“Why did you look at that man, hhhmmm….?  Did you know him?” hissed
Morrant as he clenched the hair tighter.

“N..no..I did not look at anyone,” answered Legolas shakily.

“You lie!!” screamed Morrant and he slapped the pitiful elf.

“I saw him, a mere ranger.  He was looking at you too.  Did you fancy
him then?”

“Never,” whispered Legolas hoarsely.  “Please master.  I am bound to
you.  How could I dare look at another?”

The answer pleased Morrant greatly.  He has successfully broken the
Prince into submission and obedience.

“Very well.  However, you are not to look up until I tell you to do so,
understand?”

“Yes, master.”  Legolas secretly sigh with relief.

Morrant took the key that he wore on his neck and unfastened the
chains.  Before the young elf could look at his injured wrists, his
husband began to take off the ruined robe.  He winced as the stinging
pain invaded his senses.

The sight of blood on the sweat-drenched back stirred a burning desire
in between Morrant’s crotch.  He loved violence.

Kneeling down, he began licking all over the back.  Legolas hissed in
pain as the throbbing overwhelmed him.  He held his breathe with his
eyes squeezed shut tightly.

The half elf licked until his consort’s back was clean of blood before
he circled his arms around the slender waist and started stroking the
limp member to life.

It was his way to reward his obedient elf.

The Prince was still encapsulated by the throbbing pain on his back and
did not realise it until he felt a strange stirring below his waist.

When he opened his eyes to look down, he was surprised to find himself
aroused.  After all the pain and violence, his body still responded to
the unwanted pleasure.  He felt sick and disgusted by his amorous
needs.

Morrant knew he could easily manipulate his consort’s body by his
expert ministration.   He liked using it against him.  He loved
watching the young Prince torn between unwanted lust and writhing in
pleasure.

Legolas could not help himself when a moan escaped from him.  He leaned
back until his head rested on the half elf’s shoulder, exposing his
white throat.  Morrant licked them and sucked hard, leaving marks on
them.  It heightened the young elf’s senses.

Then he grabbed his husband’s hand and urged it to stroke faster.

Morrant sneered with disdain that his elf enjoyed being exploited.

“So, the once arrogant Prince enjoys to be taken by a master.  I vowed
that I would take everything from you.  And now……I have,”

What his husband said suddenly woke him up to reality and he tried to
stop the hand from stroking further.  However Morrant would not allow
it.

Moving faster, the young elf soon arched his back and moments later
jets of milky seeds spilled on to the light blue coverlet.

Panting with exhaustion, Legolas felt heavy and extremely sleepy.  His
eyelids felt like it was attached to two huge boulders.

Unable to fight it any longer, he slumped on to his husband’s chest and
as his head lolled to one side, his azure eyes hid behind closed
eyelids.

Morrant caressed the wet forehead tenderly a few times before he laid
his elf down to lie on his stomach.  Then he parted the legs and
penetrated the Prince anyway.

Legolas winced in his deep healing slumber but soon forgot what
happened.

The half elf sighed a relieved sigh when his aching member felt the
familiar muscles clamping around it.  He took his time to satisfy his
needs this time.  He was in no hurry to go anywhere anyway.

= = = = = =

Title		: Mirkwood’s Impasse
Author		: Red Autumn (red_autumn21@yahoo.com)
Pairing(s)	: Legolas/?
Rating		: NC17, Rape, Angst, Violence
Summary	: Mirkwood’s in danger.  How can a lone elf save it when he,
himself was bound to his enemy in a forced marriage?
Warning	: PLEASE heed the ratings.  Slash contents of graphic and
non-consent sex.
Disclaimer	: Only borrowing Tolkien’s characters for my fantasy.
NOTE		: This fic is AU.
		  Special thanks to beta reader – Anu Anu.



PART 8

Night has finally descended.  It was pitch dark as no moon appeared.

Only faint glows from the lights around the manor provided a dim sight.
 However it would not hinder Aragorn’s plan anyway as he had spent his
time usefully, observing every details to sneak in and planning an
escape route.

He had watched earlier the red-haired man leaving the manor with a few
of his hired mercenaries.

As a punishment to his careless indulgence in luxury life, his muscles
cramped stiffly from staying too long in the tree.  It was not like in
the old days when the King could trek all day on foot and forgo food
for several days.  The ex-ranger had grown accustomed to his new life.

Nevertheless, what he had learned as a ranger was not easily forgotten.
 He lurked without difficulty towards the fort and slink over the walls
without any problem.  Thanks to his idea of sneaking out of the palace
as a ranger, he had brought along the necessary equipments of the
trade.

Thanking the stars a second time, the guards around the fort were lax
in security due to long absence of actions.

To find the right room where Legolas is being held, proved to be a much
more difficult task.

As Aragorn walked along the corridors, he cursed under his breath as he
found himself searching for the impossible, for the doors were
identical on both sides.  He walked passed rows upon rows of marble
busts perched on narrow white columns.  The walls were decorated from
top to bottom with weapons and shields of all races.

This man is obsessed with power, mused the King of Gondor.  He would
love to stay and take a better look at them but right now, time is not
on his side.  He had to work fast.

Suddenly he heard the sound of a door being opened just ahead of him. 
Frantically he looked around for a place to hide but couldn’t find any.

With his quick thinking, he took his chances instead to confront
whoever is coming out of that chamber.  As if purposely heading towards
the door where a young girl carrying a tray was coming out, he
approached her.

It startled the girl when Aragorn stood in front of her, blocking her
way.  She looked up timidly, wondering what this man wanted.

Playing the role of a mercenary, he looked down on her impassively,
almost as if bored.

“Is the elf awake?” he questioned her nonchalantly.

“No, sir,” she answered.  “Do you want me to wake him up, sir?”

“No.  I will deal with it.  You may go now,” he brushed her away.

The girl left hurriedly, relieved to put as much distance as possible
from dealing with any of the men that her master hires.  They are
always strange and she didn’t like any of them.
Aragorn entered the room and closed the door behind him quietly.  He
tiptoed towards the bed where a dimly glowing form lays asleep.

Legolas’ eyes were closed and he did not even hear Aragorn coming to
him.

The King frowned.

Elves do not sleep with their eyes closed unless they are gravely
injured.  In their deep slumber they are vulnerable to attacks as they
are no longer aware of their surroundings.

Reaching out a hand, he clamped it tightly onto the slightly parted
lips.

The action startled the elf awake and the hand effectively muffled an
escaped cry.  The Prince’s azure eyes were wide with fear but soon
calmed down when he recognised the figure looming over him.

“I’ve come to save you,” whispered Aragorn.  “You slept with your eyes
closed.  Are you all right?”

“Yes, I am.  How did you find me?”

Legolas tried to sit up but Aragorn sensing that his friend is
distressed from even such a menial task helped him.  His heart worried
even more.

“When I saw you in town today, I followed you,” said Aragorn.  “You
seemed badly hurt.  Is there anything I can do for you?”

“No, I am all right.  Thank you,” lied the young elf.

He didn’t want Aragorn to worry about him but he was doing a bad job at
lying.

“Aragorn, I need your help,” said Legolas as he suddenly thought of an
idea.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” smiled the King.

“Yes,” answered Legolas, feeling a bit embarrassed by his blunder.  “I
need you to help me get Lord Elrond to meet secretly with my brother
Firith.  He is at the border of Mirkwood right now.  Mirkwood is in
danger and Firith will know what to do.  Please Aragorn, will you do
this for me?”

“Why don’t you tell him yourself?  I know what has been happening in
Mirkwood.  Ada told me.  You have Gondor’s support in this.”

Aragorn did not understand why his friend asked for such a strange
request.

“I cannot.  You must do this for me.  Please?” pleaded the young elf
desperately.

“What’s wrong Legolas?  Why can’t you do it?” more anxiousness crept in
the man’s heart.

“I cannot go with you tonight.  I’m…..bound to Lord Morrant.  I have to
stay here,” whispered the Prince sadly.

“Are you mad?  You are coming with me.  I’m not going to leave you here
with that bully, bound or not,” insisted Aragorn.

“You don’t understand,” murmured Legolas, his head downcast.

“What do you mean?” voiced Aragorn rather nervously.

The young consort pulled the thick blanket away to reveal one end of a
short chain attached to the bedpost and the other end to a shackled
ankle.

“It is made of mithril and he has the key with him,” Legolas’ voice
sounded melancholic, as if accepting surrender to his fate.  “And I
cannot risk you chopping the whole bed down.  It will draw the guards
here,” he added, predicting easily what his friend is going to say.

The young elf’s head was still downcast, unable to meet his friend’s
piercing gaze.  He was ashamed of his condition.

Anger erupted inside Aragorn at seeing the beautiful elf being held
like a slave.

“How dare he!” hissed Aragorn venomously.

“You cannot change my fate now,” whispered Legolas as he looked up. 
“Please Aragorn, go now and help me save Mirkwood before it’s too
late.”

“But about you?”

“I will survive.  Please go now before he comes back,” the young Prince
pleaded even more desperately.

He knew his friend’s heart and valiant qualities.  It would be
difficult for him to leave his friend behind to face more harm.  It was
just against his nature to be so helpless.

“Also, please tell Firnnole, if he is still alive, that I am well and
thinking of him.  Now go.”

Aragorn bent down and planted a kiss on the golden crown before turning
reluctantly to walk away.

The Prince watched forlornly as his friend dragged his feet towards the
door without looking back.  Tears flowed silently from his azure eyes. 
His heart screamed for his friend to come back and save him.

He shook his head furiously, trashing the long locks wildly.  Throwing
himself onto the pillow, he cried into it.  His hands fisted in
frustrations.  Soon exhaustion over took him and he fell into a deep
healing slumber again.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Morrant was satisfied with his meeting this time.  After the careful
inspection he had done on his small troop of two thousand hired
soldiers, he was confident that their victory would come easy.

The bands of rag tags put together were necessary for their final plan.
 It would be an easy takeover as Levana would be there to hold King
Thranduil hostage while he and his soldiers cross the border without
any resistance and swamp the palace.

The pockets of rebel elves would be dealt with swiftly and the throne
would be secured in their hands.

He smiled to himself, congratulating his brilliant idea.  The biggest
wealth waiting to be plundered.  He could almost feel it in his hands,
all the shining gold and sparkling jewels.

Then the throne came to mind.  Morrant could imagine himself with the
most absurd and expensive crown on his head while his shy consort sits
on his lap.

“Ai, Legolas.  You are my most valuable and rare jewel indeed.  I will
be most delighted to spend all my time ‘polishing’ you till you
outshine even the Anar, itself,” Morrant spoke to himself.

The half elf’s mind wandered further to his consort waiting at home,
fully naked and warming his bed.  The tantalizing thoughts of the
squirming and moaning creature in his arms spurred him to ride fast. 
Tonight he is determined to spend his elf till he collapses from
exhaustion.


PART 9

The strength of a troop of one thousand men, marching silently through
the forest was an unusual sight indeed.  At first glance, it looked
like a small band of weary travelers being forced out of their homes
now wandering to find new shelter.  However, on closer observation, one
could see that these men had determined faces as if they had a purpose
and were heading somewhere specific.

The men also carried weapons, though no weapons for hunting or
self-defense.  They were weapons of war.  All were clad in some form of
armor and wore as many weapons as one could carry or preferred.  It was
not uniformed but it did not matter.  As long as they could use it to
fight in the coming battle; that was their primary concern.

Most had not seen battle in their lifetime.  It was shown clearly from
the tenseness in their bodies and the flitting of their eyes at every
movement or sound out of their group.  The men were tense and nervous.

Despite their rag-tag outlook, they were quick to follow commands and
could be disciplined easily.  Recruitment had been very strict, for
Lord Morrant did not tolerate incompetence and failure.  Most had
joined for the much-needed money while others had decided to follow for
the action.

For the past four days, they had been marching blindly, not knowing
their destination or their actual purpose.  Morrant did not trust men,
for their loyalty waivers too easily when greed is concerned.  He would
not allow their weaknesses to ruin the plan that he had painstakingly
assembled for the past years.

However, a tiny, hushed rumour was allowed to be spread on purpose, to
keep the men excited and feed their inquisitiveness.  After all,
curiosity can be dangerous if not guarded carefully.

Of course, it spread like wildfire among the many uneducated men.  The
rumour that they were heading for an elven kingdom had caused a guarded
stir.  Everyone had heard tales of elves whose beauty were compared
only to an angel sent from the sky.  Many had fantasized as a child, of
meeting such an elusive creature and some still had not outgrown their
childish dreams.  A few even claimed of wanting to keep an elf as a
mate.  Such was their defiled thoughts, thinking they could keep their
‘pet’ locked in a cage.

No one knew who hired them, aside from the Captain of the group. 
However, another rumour had been going around that the powerful yet
obscure Lord, who paid for their services, had an elf consort of his
own.  The said elf was claimed to be even more beautiful than all the
angels combined.  That was a sight many wished to witness with their
own eyes.

It was nearing nighttime and they were about to set up camp.  It had
been routine and tonight was no different.  Half the group was
exhausted, as they were not used to such a rigorous adventure.  They
just wanted to lie down and go to sleep.  A few had already dropped
themselves onto the ground without bothering to unpack their bedrolls.

Suddenly, someone cried out as if in pain.  Everyone looked up and
around them, every muscle tensed and filled with fear.  Nothing stirred
for a while as a hushed silence descended on them.  Soon the fears
turned to confusion.  After some time, they had yet to receive any
commands from their captain.  Thinking that it was nothing, they began
to relax again, and go about their business.

A particular young man with brown hair and big, round eyes like a child
was about to reach for his pack that he had left at the edge of the
clearing to retrieve something from a comrade.  As he stooped down, he
caught sight of a strange pair of boots that had not been there before.
When he looked up slightly, he found a pair of legs in dark coloured
leggings attached to the boots.  His eyes followed the length of the
legs, traveling up to a torso that was clad in a beautiful shimmering
tunic underneath an exquisitely assembled breastplate.

A gasp escaped the lad but it was not loud enough to alarm his
comrades.  When he finally straightened up, he met a handsome face with
golden locks tied back neatly.  The glittering blue eyes were staring
at him bemusedly, almost convincing the young man that he had just met
an angel except that the ‘angel’ was aiming a very dangerous, sharp
arrow at his heart.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Elsewhere, another troop of almost a thousand men were grouped together
in a large clearing.  Their faces were a mixture of sullen and awed at
the same time as they sat huddled together in a circle while being
watched over diligently by many elf soldiers.

Awed because they were surprised to meet so many elves at once but
sullen because they had become prisoners of war.  A few were disgusted
by themselves for agreeing to come to war against such delicate and
fair creatures.  It was a shame to hurt such beautiful beings, no
matter how dangerous they could be.

There were almost no casualties as the men were taken completely by
surprise and most surrendered immediately seeing that they were at a
disadvantage.  It was not worth dying stupidly for a small amount of
money.

As soon as the security was enforced among the army of men, the Captain
of the group was ‘hauled’ roughly into a makeshift tent.  The men were
watching the scene with detached interest.  Better him to be tortured
for information than them.  Some pitied the Captain and shuddered to
think of what the elves would do to him.

Inside the tent, Lord Elrond, Lord Glorfindel and Crown Prince Firith
was standing close to each other, discussing quietly.  Firnnole was
allowed to join them but seeing that he was of no use, decided to stand
at one corner of the tent silently until he was needed.

He thanked the Valar in his heart that Lord Elrond had decided to let
him join him instead of the twins.  He probably would not last very
long while in their ‘care’.  It made him shudder just to think of it. 
So far, he was able to avoid them while in Imladris but on this
mission, he could not run anywhere.

When the prisoner was brought in, he was unceremoniously dumped on to
the floor.  The three elven Lords looked up and moved to stand in front
of the figure kneeling on the floor.

As soon as the tent flaps were covered, Lord Elrond quickly bent down
to help the man up.  The prisoner appreciated the gesture of kindness.

“Sorry we had to handle you in such a rough manner but we must keep
your identity a secret.  For your own protection,” said Lord Elrond
with a smile.

“I understand, My Lord.  I thank you for such consideration,” the man
answered as he brushed the sand off his hands.

“I must thank you instead for your great help in aiding us.  Without
your valuable information, a war among men and elves would be
inevitable and cost both side many unnecessary death,” Prince Firith
interjected.

“Please, Your Royal Highness, My Lords.  I have done little.  There is
no need for any thanks.  I have children of my own and I do it
selfishly out of protection for the young ones,” said Tharen, his face
blushing.  He was not used to being praised nor receiving gratitude
from such important people especially from such high stations.  He felt
grand though, for just being able to shake hands with two legendary
warriors that he had heard as a child and an important royal family
member.

“Irrespective of your agenda, Tharen, both Mirkwood and Imladris are at
your service.  You and your descendents will always be welcomed in the
elven kingdoms,” Prince Firith continued.  Lord Elrond nodded in
agreement.

“I think it’s about time the Captain must be returned to his people
before we arouse too much suspicion,” said Glorfindel finally.  He had
been beside Lord Elrond, loyally guarding him since riding out of
Imladris.

“Yes, I agree.  Until we meet again,” Tharen said and he bowed slightly
before straightening up and squared his shoulders.  He knew what was
coming.

The two elves that had brought him into the tent before suddenly lashed
out.  While one punched him on the left cheek, bruising it badly and
splitting his lip, the other hit him in the stomach with an elbow
shoved sharply against him.  Tharen felt air rushed out of his lungs
before he doubled over in pain.  Right at that moment, someone chop the
back of his head, sending him into unconsciousness and crumbling to the
floor.

Glorfindel placed a hand on Elrond’s shoulders and gave it a squeeze
when he saw his Lord wince at the scene in front of them.  The elves
then carried the motionless body out of the tent.

“Now let’s hope we can rescue Legolas in time before it’s too late,”
commented Firith, a hint of concern in his voice.

“We will, Firith.  Don’t worry.  Everything has been going well so far.
 We only have to wait for Morrant to walk into our trap,” assured Lord
Elrond.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Legolas was lying on the bed, chains on his wrists again.  His body was
covered with bruises that stood in sharp contrast to his fair skin. 
His husband was never gentle in their lovemaking, often taking pleasure
in listening to the young prince cry or even scream for mercy.

Morrant roved his eyes on the glorious nakedness of his consort and
noticed the limbs still trembling slightly.  The pitiful creature eyed
him warily in return.  His eyes were swollen and red from crying.  His
lower lip was also slightly bruised.

When the half-elf climbed into bed, Legolas did not move.  He was too
exhausted even to react.  The insatiable demands by his husband the
night before had left him drained.

Towering above him, Morrant looked down leeringly.  He felt his member
harden when he saw dried blood and his semen staining the area between
the white thighs.

The young elf wished he could just die of exhaustion there and then. 
He could not take another session of torture from the highly amorous
half-elf.  As Morrant started to claim him again, Legolas whimpered in
fear.  He prayed to Valar that he would be dead after this.



PART 10

Anar was mild this morning but Legolas was already sweating.  He had
been like this since they started riding out of the fort.  His back was
wet and the robe that he was wearing stuck to his body uncomfortably. 
Some of the sweatdrops had rolled off his forehead and down the sides
of his face.

Legolas did not blame Anar for his discomfort.  He just wished he would
stop sweating so much.  He had never been like this before and this
made him even more anxious.  Instead of feeling hot, he was cold inside
and the wind blowing against him made him shivered.

All this was because he was in terrible pain.  The area between the
cleft of his buttocks hurt tremendously, while the rest of him ached. 
On top of that, he felt feverish.  At one point, when he realised that
the leggings were wet, he looked down to discover a big patch of blood
soaking through the material around his crotch.

Since getting on the horse, the young elf had been trying to adjust and
change position to get more comfortable.  It was close to impossible to
do so as they were riding in full gallop.  Until now, he did not manage
to alter anything except aching even more and his body was close to
collapse.

Whenever he was able to draw his concentration away from the torturous
suffering, he would notice Morrant riding just slightly ahead of him. 
Hatred swelled in his heart.  How he wanted so badly to kill that
half-elf.  If only his murderous stares could do it.

Morrant was the root to all his misery.  The half-elf had violently
forced himself on him repeatedly, injuring him viciously.  The
heartless cruelty had left him completely drained, lifeless and
depressed.

The half-elf had an insatiable appetite and their lovemaking was never
without some form of sadistic brutality.  He relished in seeing blood
and enjoyed even more to hear his consort screaming and begging him to
stop when he pummeled him endlessly.  He loved to see the fear in the
young elf’s eyes and striking him to submission.  Seeing the tears well
in the elfling’s eyes were satisfying to him.

Without letting Legolas recover after the rough night, Morrant had
insisted they ride immediately to catch up with one of the troops.  He
was anxious to execute his plan and did not want anything to foul it
up, even a slight delay.  Instead of taking pity on his consort’s
suffering and going slower, they had ridden like wind, pushing everyone
and even the horses to the limit.

Legolas dared not complain because his husband would surely lash him
generously with the whip that he now carried with him on the side of
his right hip.  Attention was something Legolas shied away from and he
silently and obediently followed orders.  Besides, he was in no
condition to protest.  He was physically and mentally breaking down.

After days of traveling, Legolas still had not healed properly.  Each
day the young elf prayed that night would swiftly come.  Each day added
more distress to him and sometimes he could not hold on any longer.

His eyes threatened to close any moment and he badly wanted to curl up
into a tight ball and sleep.  However, no one showed him any mercy.  A
few times, he almost fell off the horse because he could not stay
awake.  He was living day by day in a dazed existence.  His movement
had become slow and purely mechanical.

When they set up camp at night, the young elf would quickly curl up in
his bedroll to sleep.  He had not even bothered to eat even though his
stomach growled hungrily.  He was not looking forward for the next
day’s ride and would rather try to heal as much as possible in his deep
healing slumber.

It vexed his husband at first for being unable to rouse the young elf
to any form of prodding and threats.  But he soon gave up.  Even
Morrant could see that he had pushed his consort to the edge and
decided to give a brief respite to him.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

The air was suffocating and hot.  The gloominess in this part of the
forest was terrible.  Even the deadly silence was eerie.  No creature
roamed here except really desperate ones.  No one had ever been here
for centuries, as it was evident from the non-existence of any trails
or markers to show the way.

This part of the forest led to a secret cave that had an underground
tunnel connecting to Mirkwood’s palace.  No one knew about it, not even
the royal family, except King Thranduil.  That was how Morrant and
Levana found out about it after they had the golden King under their
influence.

Thranduil never mentioned about this tunnel to anyone when his own
father had revealed to him one day.  He never thought that the tunnel
would ever be used.  He had arrogantly decided that Mirkwood’s safety
was without doubt.

Morrant had decided at last minute to change his plan.  Somehow the
half-elf felt uneasy to meet up with the troop that was to charge
directly into the border.  He did not know why but he trusted his gut
feelings that things were not going right that morning.

After leaving instructions to one of the mercenaries, they left on
another trail in search of the secret cave.  He had decided to leave
the task to the chosen mercenary to lead the troop into the border.

No one spoke while traveling within the dark forest.  All eyes were
scanning the surroundings, making sure that no surprises would hinder
their way.

Looking at his consort, Morrant was quite taken aback by the sight. 
Legolas was paler than usual; even his lips were turning white.  The
eyes were dull and stared blankly ahead, as if no longer aware of his
surrounding.  The lack of food had also left the young elf thin and
frail.  If Morrant would reach over and poke him lightly with one
finger, he was sure Legolas would fall off the horse just like that.

“We’re almost home, my beautiful,” the half-elf said, when he leaned
closed to his elf.

As expected, Legolas did not answer him but continued to stare ahead as
if he did not hear him.  Morrant let out a soft sigh.  A hint of worry
welled inside him.  It would be a pity to loose such a treasure; a
terrible pity.

The cave was easy to find as Thranduil had given clear descriptions. 
It had a hole large enough for one person to pass through at a time. 
Morrant instructed the men to tie the horses to a nearby tree because
they might need them urgently.  At the lip of the cave, they found a
few old wooden torches stacked neatly.  After lighting them, they
entered the earth’s cavity.

Three men led the way, while Morrant and Legolas were in the middle. 
The half-elf had to hold the Prince’s hand and pull him along, as the
young elf was incapable of responding on his own.  The young elf’s hand
was cold and clammy to the touch.

Everyone was tense except for Legolas who seemed to be oblivious.  No
one spoke a word.  The journey along the tunnel was quite slow because
the mercenaries were being extra careful.  The walls were dry and
musty, filled with spider webs and tree roots.  There were also plenty
of insects that crawled and scuttled away from the intrusion.  Luckily
though, the height and width of the passage was comfortable enough for
a person to walk through without brushing against the walls.

What seemed like hours later, they finally entered into a cavernous
hall with no other opening except for a small metal door that was
situated at the opposite from them.

The men left the torches, still burning, on the iron brackets around
the chamber.  Then they tried to open the door.  It was no easy task to
open the door as it had never been used for so long but they managed it
in the end with the strength of three men combined.

The new entrance led to an underground wine cellar.  Here, there were
dim lights as someone had left two torches alight at all times so that
the servants may come down to retrieve the wines.  Cautiously, they
crept up the short staircase that led to the slightly ajar door. 
Poking out, they found themselves in a huge larder, filled with stock
of foods.  After making sure that no one was around, they snuck out.

Morrant’s first priority was to search for his sister so that he could
establish the situation in the palace.  Everything had looked normal
with the usual traffic of palace guards patrolling around.  However,
Morrant did not notice the lack of servants scurrying about their
duties.

Suddenly, a shout caught their attention.  Their heads snapped up in
alarm at the direction of the voice and was shocked to see Crown Prince
Firith sprinting towards them with a group of palace guards closely on
his heels.

“It’s a trap!  Back to the tunnel,” Morrant barked.

The intruders tried to make a run for the same direction where they
came from but unfortunately, the alarm had been raised and more
soldiers from the opposite direction cut them off.  Left with no
choice, they bolted blindly for anywhere they could find a way to get
out.

For the second time, luck was not with the red-haired elf Lord. 
Rounding a corner, they found themselves surrounded by more soldiers. 
The mercenaries immediately began forming a circle around their
employer and his consort, preparing to fight.

“Drop your weapons and step away from your employer.  We only want
him,” Firith commanded authoritatively.  The four men looked to their
leader.

After a brief moment, the head mercenary dropped his weapons and his
subordinates followed suit.  They all raised their hands in a gesture
of surrender and stepped cautiously away from the half-elf.

“What are you doing?  Get back here!”  Lord Morrant was panicking. 
“Give it up, Morrant.  You’re surrounded,” Lord Elrond called out as he
stepped out from behind the crowd to stand beside Mirkwood’s Crown
Prince.  The Rivendell Lord was impressive in his full body armor,
shining gloriously like a legendary warrior stepping out from folklore.

“Don’t come any closer.  I have Legolas,” Morrant warned and
immediately produced a dagger from his boot.  He placed the sharp edge
of the blade on the white column of Legolas’ neck.  Until now, the
young elf was still in a daze-like state.

“How dare you, coward, hiding behind him like that?” Firith hissed
menacingly.  He took a step closer but stopped mid-track when Morrant
pushed the blade deeper against the soft skin, drawing a trickle of
blood.

“Stop.  Don’t harm him,” cried Firith, concerned for his brother’s
safety.  “Legolas, are you all right?”  No response from the young one.

“What have you done to him, Morrant?” Elrond growled.  His hand was
slowly edging towards his elven knife as he tried to distract the enemy
with talks.

“Don’t even think about it, Elrond,” said the half-elf as he realised
the tactics.  “Legolas and I are bound to each other.  If I die, he
dies too.”  He started to take small steps at a time, with his consort
shielding him protectively.  Legolas obeyed without thought.

“Let us go.  You know you cannot win this,” the half-elf challenged
arrogantly, even though he knew it was a slim chance that he could
escape from his enemies.

Suddenly, a commotion and some shouting distracted everyone.  Then
utter confusion erupted.

Morrant did not know what had happened.  He just felt a jolt of extreme
pain and dimness closing in on him.  He briefly saw blood everywhere
before he blacked out entirely.  When the elves returned their
attention to their hostage situation again, they were shocked.

They witnessed Lord Morrant slumped to the floor, on a pool of blood
that was growing bigger.  More blood covered the Prince’s face and his
front body.    Everyone was stunned, believing that the young Prince
was dying because after he dropped the dagger, he closed his eyes and
crumpled to the floor next to his husband.

“Legolas!”  Firith yelled and he ran towards his brother.

* * * *

As if in a dream, Legolas looked at the dagger in his hand.  Red blood
smeared the blade.  The warm liquid rolled down from his hand and down
his forearm.  It started to dribble on to the floor.

Drip.  Drip.  Drip.  

Every drop that splashed to the floor, cause more blood to pool around
his legs.

So tired and so serene at the same time.  His chest felt less
constricted.  His heart rate and breathing had slowed down.

His mind was so clear now.  Freedom.  He had just attained his own
freedom and revenge.

He looked at the dagger again, full of blood.  He turned his hand to
look all around it.  Then he let go.  The blade fell onto the floor
with a dull clang, splashing more blood around, some catching on his
ankle.

The world had turned dark.  He could not hold on.  There was nothing to
hold on.  He was falling.  He felt something but could not tell what. 
Then he had forgotten.



PART 11

Legolas cracked open his eyes with reluctance.  His body still felt
devoid of energy and his eyelids heavy.  Not only that, even his brain
was slow and muddled too.  He did not know why he even bothered to wake
up at all.  May be he should just curl up again and close his eyes. 
Sleep was so tempting.

However, before he could do that, a fuzzy image of a dark figure moved
into his field of vision.  He felt his heart skipp a beat, fear
gripping him.  It was a quick reaction, one that had woken him
completely.

“Legolas?”  A voice penetrated his racing mind.  It was softer, younger
and sounded worried.  No, it was not Morrant’s.

“Firith?” the dazed elf responded weakly.

“Yes, Legolas.  It’s me.  How are you feeling now?” his brother asked,
feeling a bit relieved.

“Just a little tired.  I don’t feel pain anymore,” the young elf
answered after a brief pondering.  His sight was back to normal and he
could see Firith’s face.  How he missed him and had been so worried
that he would never see him again.

“Good.  Lord Elrond had given you some herbs to help rid you of the
pain.”

“What happened?” Legolas could not remember a thing.  “How did I get
here?”

“You don’t remember anything?” Firith frowned.  May be Legolas had
suffered more than they thought.

“You had been traveling back to Mirkwood with Morrant.  He was going to
claim the throne,” the elder brother explained.

Legolas tried to recall his memories of what had happened.  The images
came to him slowly and in jumbles.  He remembered seeing lots of blood
and holding something sharp and shiny.  More recollection of the trip
where he had been in terrible pain and his leggings soaking in blood. 
Then faces appeared and disappeared.

“Where is …..”  Legolas could not bring himself to mention the hated
name.  He felt a hard, painful knot formed in his throat.

“Dead,” the Crown Prince answered in a hard tone.  “Thanks to Firnnole
who created a diversion, allowing you to kill Morrant with the dagger
he was holding against your throat.”

Firith watched Legolas’ reaction.  At first, he saw a flash of pain
cross his eyes.  He knew how much suffering his brother had gone
through.  It was nothing compared to him and Saiwen.  He was beginning
to doubt that the young elf would ever recover.  However, that pain was
quickly replaced with grim satisfaction.  Firith knew he would be when
revenge was by his own hands.

“And Levana?”

“In the dungeon, awaiting execution,” Firith answered, knowing that
such treachery in Mirkwood was punishable by death.

Legolas nodded with relief.  He felt all his muscles that had tightened
uncurl.  It was so good to be able to let his guard down again and not
have to watch over his shoulder all the time.

Again, the images of Morrant invaded his thoughts.  It seemed that he
would never get rid of that face from his mind.  It sent shudders
through his spine.  However, he quickly reminded himself that his
husband was dead, killed, finally by his own hands.  He remembered how
he had grabbed the dagger from the half-elf’s hand and plunged it deep
into his dark heart.  He had felt no remorse and neither did he flinch
by that action.  Instead, he felt serenity coursing through his mind
and body – a strong presence of peacefulness that he had not felt in
ages.

“Ada is safe right now.  Lord Elrond is with him in his bedchamber,
helping him to get rid of the poison from his mind.  Lord Glorfindel is
about somewhere, sorting out the traitors among us.”  The Crown Prince
interjected, his voice had jerked Legolas out of his chain of thoughts.

“Where’s Firnnole?” inquired the young elf suddenly, as he remembered
his friend.

Firith smiled at the mention of that name.  It was as if he knew
something that others did not.  Then he looked up and someone walked
over to the opposite side of the bed from him.

“I’m here, Legolas,” answered the new comer.

“Firnnole has been beside you for the past two days, waiting anxiously
for you to wake up,” Firith said and smiled even wider.  The mentioned
elf looked down, blushing slightly.  “I’ll leave you two alone.  I have
to help Glorfindel,” he added, sensing that the two elves needed to be
alone.  He got up to leave.

Both elves watched the Prince left before they turned to regard at each
other in silence.

“I’ve missed you, Firnnole.  I’ve often thought about you,” Legolas
started first.

“I know.  King Aragorn told me,” said Firnnole and he grabbed Legolas
suddenly, holding him tightly in his embrace.  The action caught the
Prince by surprise but he was glad.  It felt right to be in his
friend’s arms.  “I missed you terribly and I was so terrified that I
would never see you again.”  Firnnole started to cry.

Legolas pushed his friend slightly apart from hi