Chapter 32: How, What, and Why?
Hey guys, I am SO sorry that I haven't updated in what seems like forever, but school just started and I have been beyond busy! It has taken me forever to finish this chapter, so I apologize again!
Anyway, thank you for all of the wonderful reviews you have left me, they are all greatly appreciated! I received two responses with questions, one of which was what was the drink they gave Legolas, and why did they give it to him? And the other was asking for a chapter describing when the Mirkwood elves first found out that Legolas lost his voice. Both are good ideas, and I am really glad that you guys brought them up because they are both things that I wanted to mention and then completely forgot about….what would I do without you guys? I have decided to do the one about the drink and why they gave it to our dear archer first, and then I will do the second for next week's update.
Also, very brief side note…the bold italics in this story are the thoughts of the characters, but the regular bold is the flashback. You all probably were able to figure that out, but I just wanted to make sure no one was confused.
Thank you for reading you guys, and please review!
Fireyouko: Aw, thank you so much! I am glad that you are enjoying yourself while reading this! This chapter is for you, because it truly was a good question and I most certainly honor my word. I hope that it satisfies your questions sufficiently. If not, please let me know and I will try my best to get it to that point!
BlackMinx17: Hahaha, nice…It certainly makes me happy to know that y chapters are eliciting some sort of emotional response, even if said response is sometimes sadness…
EnelyaOfMirkwood: Hi to you as well! I am glad that you love my story, I love that you love it. Thank you, I certainly try to work in enough detail and keep the characters as close to their true personalities as possible while putting my own spin of them at the same time. That is certainly what I was trying to go for, because what fun is reading a story if it doesn't get you emotionally invested! It you like emotional stories, read HelloDenmark's series about Legolas. I believe it is called the Hope of Mirkwood Series but I'm not entirely sure. It is a collection of three stories, two of which are finished, and the third is still being updated. The first is Coldness, the second is Aid from a Friend, and the third is called War of Light and Darkness. HelloDenmark is one of my favorite writers on this site, and this series is my favorite piece of work I have ever read. They are so fantastic I don't even have the right words to describe them! I highly recommend you read them!
The Willow Maiden: Yay! Oh that makes me so happy to hear you say that, because I was feeling a little iffy about the last chapter. I was worried that I had made it a little too touchy-feely. Hahaha, don't worry, it is going to end happily ever after. I have put our favorite blonde archer through enough trouble already. Thank you! Well, I guess that is a good thing, because as a writer it is my ultimate goal to make sure that you are thoroughly satisfied with the story once it is over. I know right! I mean poor Legolas, he can never catch a break from anybody…myself included…
MuggleCreator: I'm glad! That certainly makes me happy to hear!
Arwen2001: Well, I'm glad I made you happy, and I totally know how you feel. I hate it when I get emotionally invested in a story and then I have to go months without an update. However, now that I am writing myself, I have a new understanding of how time can easily get away from oneself. There have been two times during the span of this story that I have legitimately forgotten that this story was still going and that I had to update…both of which I still feel really bad about…Awww, that is so sweet! Thank you so much! Hearing that honestly warms my heart and makes my day! Oh don't worry, there shall be plenty more adorable Legolas and Aragorn fluffiness before this story comes to an end. Holiday in India! Dude that sounds awesome! Was it fun? What am I thinking, of course it was fun! I am actually planning on traveling to India for a school trip sometime soon and I am hella excited. As far as I'm concerned, there will be no death of Legolas in this story, and he will have a happy ending for once in his life. Also, I am glad that you are enjoying my other stories as well!
Schattenjagd: Anytime my friend! I'm glad that I was able to help out! Yeah, I felt that we all needed a bit of break from the heavy stuff. I mean I'm for a good tragedy…like half of my stories involve people dying…but every once and awhile, we need some good old fluff. Well, it is actually interesting because this characterization of Legolas is based off of someone I know in real life. Obviously she wasn't torture in a dungeon for three years, and she isn't mute, but she had a pretty messed up past and she has a lot of similar character traits. She also has like no self-esteem, so I kind of used the way she reacts to others as a base for how Legolas handles situations. Oh to hear you say that is such a relief! I honestly struggle with ending my chapters sooooo much more than I do with any other part of my writing. There have honestly been a few chapters where I have spent like over an hour going back and forth on endings…they drive me crazy! Yeah, sorry about that…I was kind of rushing to finish and update since I had to leave for drivers ed and I wasn't going to have any other time to update for a while. Thanks, I hope you enjoy the remainder of your summer as well, and the end of this story!
KP: I know, I am too. I have really enjoyed writing this story, much more so than any of my others. As I said, I shall post your requested chapter next week. I totally understand why you would be curious, because I didn't really go over that as much as I should have. I am happy that you are enjoying yourself though!
snoozinghamster: Thank you so much! I'm glad that you find it different and interesting. That was certainly what I was going for. I hope you like the rest of this story.
The Grandeurs of Despair: I'm glad that you like Speak no Evil so much! I know it has been a really long time in-between updates…sorry about that…
Wow…I just wrote like over a thousand words of review responses…you guys seriously bring out my chatty side…not that that is necessarily a bad thing…
After Aragorn had completely finished translating, there was another lull in conversation. However, this time it wasn't heavy with sadness nor awkwardness. Everyone was merely taking another moment to process what had been said, or signed to be more accurate, in their own way. It was certainly a difficult thing to swallow...
Boromir had risen and turned away from the group, his expression melancholy. Of course he had seen more than his fair share of wreckage and ruin…death and destruction…loved ones left bloody in the streets…yet Legolas' story had still managed to shake him a little. Three years of never ending torture…many a man would have given up or lost his mind to madness after going through such a thing. Never again will I doubt the strength of the elves…To think I thought him a privileged brat when first we met…how wrong I was…The Gondorian continued to stare out over the waters the fellowship had just navigated, his thoughts still churning. However, as he stood, a feeling of restlessness passed over him, and his hands twitched at his sides. What is this? Never before have I been so lacking in focus!
The Gondorian wasn't the only man contemplating what had just passed. The Dúnedain ranger still remained at his friend's side, his hand resting firmly on Legolas' shoulder. His grey eyes stared intently at the prince's profile—after telling his tale Legolas had moved his gaze to the flickering fire before him—yet they weren't truly seeing, for the man was lost in his own imaginings. He had known that Legolas had suffered in his past, that he had been hurt in more ways than one could possibly imagine, and that his recovery process had been nearly impossible, but never had he heard Legolas say in detail what had happened to him. In fact, no one in the entirety of Middle Earth—beside the prince himself and his torturers—had known what had truly happened in that dungeon until mere minutes ago. Of course it had chilled he ranger to the core, hearing of such tragedy befalling one of his closest friends, but so much made sense to him now. I've always wondered what exactly had caused his very mannerisms and oddities. For years I would ask myself why he had changed so much…I obviously knew he had been hurt, and that he could no longer talk, but as I child I just expected him to bounce back like I did when I was "hurt". I never was able to grasp why for years he feared the touch of others, or why he would spend hours staring off into the distance, his face blank and eyes terrified. I admit that I've always been curious, as have many others, and I have asked for years that he tell me…but now that I know, was I truly ready to hear how he was tortured? Aragorn's brow furrowed as he thought on the fact that he now had what he had wanted for years. The mystery surrounding Legolas' capture was gone, yet in some ways the ranger honestly felt that it was still there. He knew that this had been good for Legolas, and it was quite literally the least he could to sit and listen, but it hurt him greatly to know that he had been selfish enough to feel upset with Legolas when he would refuse to play with him like the two did before the prince's capture. The man had been but a child at the time, but now that he knew what Legolas was dealing with, an overwhelming amount of guilt began to seep into his soul. The ranger closed his eyes briefly as he inhaled deeply, before releasing his breath in the form of a sigh. He then moved his hand down from the elf's shoulder to gently squeeze Legolas' hand. The action seemingly had no effect on the elf, but the man smiled when he felt his longtime friend return the squeeze. Aragorn returned his gaze to the elf's features, his old resolve concerning the elf hardening within him. The gods be damned if Legolas comes to more harm while I walk this earth!
The dwarf remained as he had been throughout the entire tale. He sat sturdily upon the ground, his helmet, axes, and heavy armor placed to the side. The old and intricately carved pipe, which had been given to him by his grandfather Gróin, sat firmly between his weather-worn lips, small puffs of smoke billowing out from the open end. A meaty hand, so very used to lethally swinging about heavy axes, gently stroked a precisely braided beard in thought, while his small black eyes gazed into the crackling fire. If your kin could see you now Gimli…consorting with men, hobbits, elves—a bloody elvish prince, whom you now call friend! Hmmm, times have turned strange indeed…Yet I can't help but feel that he deserves some sympathy. He has certainly been through enough for one life time…in fact he has dealt with enough to last many lifetimes over…A grim expression passed over Gimli's features as he relived what Legolas had shared with the group.
Next to the stout figure of the dwarf sat several much shorter beings. Sam was absentmindedly scrubbing away at one of the pots he had used for dinner, even though he had already been washing the same pot for close to twenty minutes. He simply needed something to do with his hands while he was thinking. Gosh, Mister Legolas really has had to deal with something awful. These evils have hurt far too many good people, and they honestly should be kept away at all costs…yet we carry some with us…The hobbit's hands briefly paused in their repetitive motion as he glanced over to the dark haired hobbit at his left. His eyes became worried and apprehensive as his thoughts moved from that of Legolas' misfortune to that which the fellowship as a whole would be facing in the not too distant future.
Just like his gardener, Frodo's thoughts were occupied by the oncoming darkness, his blue eyes flickering between the people around him and the dark woods at their backs. As the seconds ticked by, he could feel the evil object around his neck become even more of an obtrusive weight. Hearing of the danger the enemy posed and the amount of harm they could bring about in such excruciating detail made the hobbit begin to doubt that he could truly accomplish the task in front of him and the fellowship. Legolas is an elf who is thousands of year old, a prince, and a warrior, yet he was essentially brought to his knees by the evil we face. If someone like him could be broken by such a force, how on this earth am I, a hobbit who hadn't set foot outside of the shire before this journey, going to destroy it? It is impossible….
The last two Shirelings were sitting a little ways away from their kin, yet they remained huddled together against the cold. Both Merry and Pippin—ever the curious ones in the group—had millions of questions moving about their thoughts. Yet, the two hobbits were somewhat hesitant to ask even one of them. They were rather unsure if Legolas would be willing to answer any of them. After all, he had already told the fellowship so much, and as the elf stated earlier, the people around him were essentially strangers. But—there always is a 'but' when Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took are concerned—there were simply too many things eating away at the minds of the two stout beings. However, just when Pippin had gathered up enough courage to ask the elven prince something, Sam—which was honestly a big surprise to everyone around the campfire—stole the exact words from his mouth.
"Excuse me Mister Legolas, but I was wondering if I could ask you something?"
The elf looked up from where he had been staring for the past fifteen minutes, his gaze moving over to the figure of the sandy-haired gardener. He offered Sam a small, yet inviting, smile and nodded his head. He made a brief gesture for Sam to continue, and the hobbit sheepishly asked the question which had been at the forefront of everyone's minds, even if they wouldn't admit it.
"As you said, the beasts that held you made you drink something, and that was what cost you your voice…well I was just wondering if you knew why they gave it to you, or what it was?"
Legolas considered the question a moment before releasing the breath he had just taken in, and settling himself for a bit of an explanation. However, he wasn't overly surprised that questions had arisen. After all, the whole thing was rather complicated, and there were even some things that he still had questions about himself…but that was for another time. So after a quick tap on Aragorn's shoulder to get him to translate, and a glance around the fire to see that everyone else was listening, Legolas began.
"I wasn't given that foul concoction until after I had been imprisoned for a decent amount of time. I very quickly lost track of time down in the dungeon I was held in, so I don't know exactly when it happened, but I had long ago given up, and my resolve to not show weakness was non-existent. After a while you just cease to care, about yourself, your life, nothing really seemed to matter anymore. Hope wasn't going to get me out of my captivity, so what's the use?"
The prince took a second to pause and stare into the fire again. It was still somewhat difficult to look directly into the faces around him as he revealed details from his own person horror story. However, he continued forward, not ready to give up.
"At first, I thought I was in for the same interrogation and beating that I'd been experiencing since the day I was thrown in that retched cell. The door made this horrible screeching noise when it was pushed open, I don't think that I will ever forget it…"
Rusted steel grinding against bloodied and grimy stone was the horrific sound that roused the semi-conscious elf, a sound with which he was unfortunately very familiar with. It meant that his captors had returned, and an avalanche of pain was about to descend upon his body and soul. The elf didn't even bother raising his head anymore. It wasted precious energy that he would need for later, and it wasn't likely that he would see anything other than the hulking orcs, who had reveled in his pain for…well for as long as he had been stuck in this place. For all he knew, the elf could have been stuck in the darkness for centuries.
As predicted, the same dirt and blood caked boots appeared before him, filling up the elf's entire field of vision. How many times he had stared at these boots—or at least some that were very similar—while they questioned or beat him?
Legolas' body tensed as he waited for the first blow, insult, or question to come. He waited, and waited, yet the boots didn't move, and their owner didn't make a sound. Immediately the elf knew that something was wrong. Why weren't they doing anything? What were they waiting for? Finally, when the anxiety started to get unbearable, Legolas forced his body to function and raise his head so he could look at his captors.
Gods it hurt so much!
Finally, he had managed to raise himself enough to make eye contact with the orc before him. The yellow, beady eyes made the prince shiver, for when he gazed into them, there was absolutely nothing there but hatred. It was truly chilling…The lifeless yellow eyes simply stared back, while the occasional grunts and snarls left the orc's vile lips. The tension within the cell made the already stale air feel dense. Each party—the three orcs in the space and then the elf—was waiting to see what the other was going to do. Another few seconds passed before a grisly smile spread over the orc's lips.
"Long time no see, eh elf?"
A grating chuckle climbed its way up the mangled throat, the harsh tone cutting through the air with ease. The beast slowly moved closer to the elf, its steps overly calculated so its captive had to wait for the pain he believed was coming. The elf flinching with each step. It was only when the orc was scant inches away from Legolas' face. Then, without warning, the orc unlocked the manacles that were holding the elf suspended just above the ground.
The elf dropped unceremoniously to the ground, a wail of agony leaving his lips as he smashed into the cold floor. The pain shocked his body so much that he felt completely paralyzed. His eyes were wide, staring towards the still open cell door, and despair fled into his veins. The orcs had done this many times before…they would release him from his bonds, and then leave him for hours, the cell door open. It was the ultimate torture, for they were allowing him to taste freedom, knowing he would never be able to achieve it. His body was simply too weak for him to move. However, the orcs didn't leave after they let him drop. Instead, they hauled him up from under his arms, and since Legolas was too weak to walk, they dragged him over to the cell door.
"We've got somethin' special for ya today elf. Ya get to meet the big man today. Maybe he'll be able to loosen your tongue eh?"
At this, despite his best efforts, a look of utter fear passed over Legolas' face. He knew what the orcs meant by 'the big man'. They were referring to evil entity that inhabited this place and controlled the vile beasts. The smallest of whimpers left the prince's lips both in fear and pain, yet it was enough for the orcs to notice. All three of the orcs laughed viciously at the elf's reaction, reveling in the fear they were causing. Tormenting their victim gave the beasts an unlimited amount of pleasure, so they were sure as hell going to make the elf's suffering last.
"Ya scared elfling?" snarled one of the orcs as they continued to drag the elf along, trying to inflict as much pain as possible. The two carrying Legolas would drop him every once and a while 'on accident' to jar the already battered body and bones, along with push and throw him into the walls of the hallway where they walked.
By the time the group made their way out of Legolas' cellblock, the elf was even more battered and bruised, and he was barely conscious. His vision had black swirling around the edges and he was seeing double of almost everything. Yet, none of his current pains seemed very important to the elf at the moment, for as soon as they had exited the deepest section of the fortress, they had entered a courtyard. However, it wasn't bright and comforting like those within his home, or in Imladris, instead, this courtyard was twisted and dark, vile and evil.
The uneven ground scratched and scuffed Legolas' already marred skin, while rocks and dirt embedded themselves deeply into the newer wounds, but the pain barely registered in the elf's clouded mind. However, when his captors forced him down onto his knees with his head bowed to the ground, Legolas was forced into awareness. His blue eyes focused as he felt a dark presence settle on his shoulders and mind. Its weight physically pushing him closer towards the ground. Almost instantly he froze, eyes wide, for he knew what this power was.
And then came the pain.
It slammed into his mind with an unimaginable force. The agony of it was truly excruciating and Legolas was forced to squeeze his eyes shut and let out a pitiful whimper to cope with the unbelievable stress it put on his body. The dark and loathsome power pressed against his skull making his entire body throb and shake. Then a booming voice sounded within his mind, the sound of it was one of the most horrific sounds the elf had ever heard. It was eerily similar to the tone of his cell door scrapping against the stone floor. It was rough and grating, but at the same time high-pitched. The tone of that voice held about the same amount of beauty as nails running down a chalkboard, and coupled with the agony that the voice brought, Legolas was forced to scream. However, the prince's tortured screams couldn't drown out the horrible words being spoken inside his mind.
Come now little elf, did you think I wouldn't find a way to make you talk?
Legolas' weakened body dropped to the ground as he brought his bloodied hands up to his temples, grabbing at his hair in crazed desperation. His form began to convulse violently and his panicked screams rose in volume, as did the voice of that dark power. Even in his disoriented state Legolas could tell that it was becoming angrier as time went on.
Tell me what I want to know elfling! I want the halls of Greenwood and you hold the key to unlocking their doors. You will tell me!
The elf thrashed back and forth, his head slamming into the ground on either side. Yet this pain no longer seemed to matter when it was compared with the agony inside his mind. The dark presence was becoming desperate in its attempt to pull apart his mind and get at the secret hidden inside, and Legolas knew that he couldn't allow that to happen, regardless of the pain it caused him. So, by gathering every last tiny strand of energy, Legolas fought against the darkness coating his mind.
He screamed out both inside his mind and into the dank night air, "NO! LEAVE ME BE!" The words echoed across the crumbling walls of Dol Guldur, and only served to anger the presence around him. It screamed in response, the grating sound piercing the air in a torturous tone. The same words being repeated over and over again in an unending mantra.
TELL ME! TELL ME! TELL ME! TELL ME!
When Legolas refused to budge, and his body arched completely off the ground with a heart-shattering scream, everything suddenly went silent. The air was unnaturally still, and the orcs stood completely silent as they waited for orders. Only Legolas was making any sort of sound as he lay panting and partially sobbing on the ground. His chest heaved in pain and his limbs twitched every once and a while. Several tears had escaped during the ordeal, and they were now sluggishly sliding down his bruised and dirtied cheeks, before disappearing into the tangled mass of his hair.
He couldn't move for his entire body was on fire, and his mind was beyond muddled. He couldn't think, and the eerie silence around him went completely unnoticed. That is, until it was broken by that same haunting voice. Although this time, it didn't sound within Legolas' mind, but in the air around him. Also, the all-consuming pain that had been there the first time was mercifully absent.
"Very well elfling, if you do not wish to tell me what I want to know, we will find other uses for you here. After all, you have been such a wonderful guest."
A terrifying laugh filled the air afterwards. It was shrill and mocking, and it followed the elf all the way back to his cell as his captors dragged him back into his own personal hell. They threw him in head first, allowing him to crumple on the ground in defeat. They left him curled up there, bleeding and in pain, for a few minutes before following him into the cell.
He was hauled up to his feet, causing a pained yelp to escape the elf, and then they jerked his hands above his head. The pain was unimaginable and Legolas couldn't keep himself from crying out in desperation and denial as his wrists were once again shackled. His toes hung suspended an inch or so off the ground, putting even more strain on the abused shoulders and arms. It only took a few more seconds before Legolas promptly passed out from the exhaustion and unimaginable pain. When he awoke an unknown amount of time later, Legolas found himself staring up into unfriendly yellow eyes.
The orcs before him were grinning viscously, and they looked far too happy in Legolas' opinion. He knew immediately that nothing good could be coming his way. His suspicions were confirmed when the closest orc approached him, and in the blink of an eye, wrapped a meaty hand around his throat, squeezing down hard. Air became scare and the elf started to panic. He couldn't breathe and he couldn't move. His body was so weak that he didn't even have the strength to try and swing his body in the opposite direction. Garbled choking sounds escape his dry lips as his throat constricted and went into spasm in desperate attempts to draw air into his burning lungs.
Then, just when he felt his eyes roll back into his head, and his consciousness fading, the hand let go. Legolas drew a large and grating breath into his lungs, and felt stabs of pain travel down his throat due to its abuse. However, he wasn't granted much time to think on it, for the hand that had just been wrapped dangerously around his throat returned. Although this time it moved upwards to grab his jaw. Claw like nails dug into delicate skin, the harsh handling forcing the elf's jaw wide open. Legolas' tongue moved about spastically in his mouth, unsure what to do with the straining position.
He was confused, and uncomfortable in his new predicament, so Legolas' eyes widened in morbid anticipation. He was helpless to do anything but watch as the rest of his captors descended upon him, wicked smirks on their black lips. Another moment of tense silence passed before the orc holding his jaw open spoke.
"Oh elfling you've done it now. The master isn't happy with ya at all, but he's done with trying to get ya to tell him what he wants to know. Ya know what that means, don't ya?"
Unable to speak or move, Legolas watched as the orc's hand reached down to pull something out of a hidden pocket. Whatever it grabbed was out of the elf's line of sight, so he couldn't see what the object actually was. In that moment the tension in the small cell rose exponentially with the orcs waiting to see Legolas' reaction to the situation, and Legolas waiting to see what new horror was going to be inflicted upon him.
The beast directly in front of Legolas grinned a truly sinister grin as it brought a tiny vial into the prince's view. That was what it had been searching for, and it seemed to bring all the orcs in the cell great pleasure. The orc quickly un-stoppered the vial with its teeth, and placed it before Legolas' open mouth.
Instantly the elf started to panic, but there wasn't anything he could do and the orcs knew it. So, with a sadistic smile, the orc leaned close to the elf's ear, its putrid breath making Legolas' eyes water as it spoke.
"It means, we get to do whatever the hell we want with ya."
And with that haunting phrase, the vial was tipped forward, its contents spilling onto Legolas' tongue and into his mouth. Immediately after it touched Legolas' tongue the elf jerked forward in his bonds and tried to spit it out. However, the orcs were fast, and as soon as the vial was empty, Legolas' jaw was clamped shut, forcing the elf to taste and feel all that the vile liquid had to offer.
The substance burned like an acid, and the taste was quite possibly the most horrific thing the elf had ever experienced. It was something akin to rancid meat that had been sitting in the sun for a year. His body started to shake as he fought against the horrid feelings that were occurring within his mouth. He knew that the orcs were going to make him swallow it, but he just couldn't force himself to accept it. Legolas' stomach was already turning inside out from the taste alone, but the fiery agony that spread through any section of flesh the substance touched threatened to be too much.
"Come one elf, ya going to have to swallow sometime."
The taunt from the orc came with sadistic laughter, which was made worse by the fact that the elf knew its words to be true. He had to force himself to swallow the vile substance, for the orcs weren't going to give him any other option.
Somehow, Legolas forced himself to swallow and he instantly regretted it. The pain had been bad before, but as soon as it started to slide down the elf's throat, that agony increased ten-fold. It felt as though someone was sticking needles through his skin and into his throat, while simultaneously pouring liquid fire along the wounds. Legolas was desperate to scream, to do anything that might possibly help him assuage the horrible experience, but the orcs were still holding his jaw tightly closed.
Finally, when his captor judged all of the substance had been downed, he released the elf's jaw, allowing the hinge to fall open. However, by this point Legolas didn't even have the energy to scream anymore, so he hung his head and shivered. His stomach twisted and turned, and the pain still surged within him, but he remained still and silent. His consciousness was rapidly leaving him, but the last thing he heard was, "you wouldn't talk, so we made the decision for you. 'Tis a shame, I liked hearing ya scream".
"Since I wouldn't tell them about the stronghold's defenses and weaknesses, they thought it would be fun to take away my ability to speak at all. I don't know what it was they gave me. I was never told, and not even Elrond could figure it out. All I know is that when I regained consciousness, I couldn't speak. In the beginning I could make a few broken and garbled sounds, but it hurt more than any of the other things they did to me, both physically and psychologically."
Aragorn's voice faded into nothingness as Legolas' hands came to rest in his lap. The elf's eyes continued to stare out into the flames, a dead and haunted look about them. Even though he was no longer signing, it was clear that Legolas was still caught up in his painful memories.
Everyone else however, had their eyes glued firmly onto the elf's face. Each one held a look of utter horror on their faces. When Legolas had explained everything the first time around, he hadn't gone into nearly that level of agonizing detail. Many of the hobbits had placed their hands against their throats, rubbing up and down gently in a subconscious gesture. No one was entirely sure what to say next, but it only took another moment for Legolas to decide for them.
He raised his hands, signing a simple phrase for Aragorn to translate.
"Does that answer your question?"
Well, that chapter is finally done…my goodness I think that is the longest chapter I have ever typed. Again, super sorry for the month long wait (yikes!) but I hope that this chapter sort of made up for it. Anyway, please review and keep an eye out for the final two chapters of Speak No Evil!