Return Of The Shadow

Chapter 12: You Deserve Death

Legolas was left alone for the next few months. He saw no one and spoke to no one. At first he didn't care, he welcomed the silence.

But soon he began to feel as if he was losing his mind. He had spent most of his time grieving, yet now, his grief had turned to rage. He became restless, he never slept, he thought that he could hear voices in his head, voices of those long lost.

Whenever he'd ever felt anger or grief he had always been able to deal with it. Usually by going out by himself. He had to move. He couldn't just stay in one place.

He had to kill something.

Legolas sprang to his feet and quickly shook the thought away.
He didn't need to kill anything. There was already enough death in the world.

But it had always helped him in the past. To get control...

"No!"

Legolas slammed his fist against the cell wall.

If Sauron was trying to drive him into insanity, he was succeeding.

Without Pippin to calm him, to reassure him that things could one day be better... He was lost.

He sighed and returned to his spot in the corner. He sat down and closed his eyes.

I swear I'm losing my mind.

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As much as Sauron enjoyed the elf's suffering, he still had to focus on his goal; which was bringing the monster out of Legolas. The elf was no use to him, it was what Sauron had created in him that he wanted.

All he had to do was lure the beast out.

The Mouth understood perfectly well what Sauron had in mind. He went down to the dungeon to carry out what his master had ordered.

The Mouth had been enjoying himself for the last few months. Amarth still hadn't returned from whatever it was Sauron had sent him to do, however The Mouth was still annoyed that Sauron hadn't told him what it was.

He was also glad that the halfling had finally been killed, and there was nothing he'd enjoyed more than watching Legolas slowly slip into madness.

He remembered when Legolas had first come to Mordor. He hadn't been Sauron's messenger then, but he had still been in charge of making the elf wish he that he was dead.

It had been fun then, hearing the young elf's screams and cries for mercy, but now his only response to pain were the death glares he gave to anyone who hurt him.

The first time The Mouth had heard Legolas scream since his return had been when the halfling died. He wouldn't admit it but the elf's cries had nerved him.

He shook the thoughts off. He had important business to attend to.

He approached Legolas' cell and looked through the bars. The elf sat in a corner with his knees drawn up against his chest and his arms folded over them. The faint light from the torch that The Mouth held illuminated the look of pure hatred on the elf's face.

The Mouth decided to get straight to the point.

"It's a shame about your little friend. He seemed very kind, it is a pity that you couldn't save him."

Legolas only continued to glare.

"I realised that you were never told how he was killed. It seems unfair to keep the truth from you."

He searched for any other sign of emotion from the elf, but there was nothing but hate.

"Your hobbit friend was killed by someone you once traveled with. I'm sure you'll remember him."