When Two Worlds Divide (On Hold)

Chapter 10 - Prove Yourself

Ok so this chapter is back to Legolas so we've jumped forwards in time again to where Chapter 7 - Invitation to Death left off. I put the last paragraph on again as a recap! Thanks for reading this and please comment and VOTE if if you enjoyed! Thank you!
Enjoy...

Legolas stared in horror at the scene in front of him. The owner of the dark voice, robed all in black, stood as still as a statue. And in its grasp, was a young, silver-eyed ranger.

Prove yourself. Now.

Prove yourself. The voice hissed again.

The ranger was young; Legolas wasn't good with human ages, but he would guess around 18 - 20. He had long dark hair and brilliant silver eyes that caught even the weak sunlight. He wasn't moving. Blood dripped freely from a open gash in his temple, sliding down the right hand side of his face, running into his hair. His clothes were torn and dirty, and on the forefinger of his left hand, there was a silver ring with an emerald embedded in the centre. Legolas couldn't see it clearly, but it looked as if two thin lines of silver were entwined around the jewel.

When the young man looked up at Legolas, although he did not move his head at all, his eyes seemed dead and dull compared to the bright silver Legolas had first noticed. The prince recognised that look. He had seen it many times in his father's eyes when his mother had sailed to Valinor. The look of an elf fading: giving up on all hope and light and slowly deteriorating into death from despair. But the ranger in front of Legolas was human: that much was obvious. Impossible. The elf thought. No human can die from grief alone. He looked closer at the bedraggled form. The man's eyes were glassy and his face was drawn and pale. He looked as if he hadn't eaten in weeks, nor drunk much water. But there was something else as well. It was obvious that the human was dangerously ill and starved, but that wasn't all. And no matter how hard Legolas tried, he couldn't think what was nagging at the back of his mind, for the thought slipped away whenever he tried to focus on it.

All this happened in less than a second. And then Legolas' attention was forced back to the thing holding the ranger, when it hissed a third and final time.

Prove yourself. The voice was more of a rasp than a voice, and the sound of it sent chills up Legolas' spine.
"H-how?" He stuttered slightly, and, much to his embarrassment, his voice seemed to have slipped an octave higher than usual. Gritting his teeth, he resolved not to show this being any more of his fear. Not give them that satisfaction again. He cleared his throat. "How?" He asked again, his voice coming out calm and confident this time.

Fool. The voice replied. Don't you see? It was strange. Legolas could hear the voice clearly, although he was some way off from the two forms. Also, the ranger did not respond when the voice spoke, but glanced up slightly when he did. It was as though the voice was for his ears alone, inside his mind, torturing him with the inescapability of it all. Closing his eyes, Legolas stopped speaking aloud, instead thinking what he wanted to say.
"Let the human go."
Of course. Legolas was surprised that the figure had heard his thought, and even more shocked when the sharply gloved hand released its grip on the young man. With a groan, the ranger fell the floor, landing on his side with his back to the Prince.

Legolas gasped. In the man's left shoulder, the clothes had been ripped apart and the skin had been pierced in a long slit, and it wasn't hard to tell that the wound was deep: probably halfway through the shoulder at least. But it wasn't the wound that had caused him to gasp in surprise. Spreading out from it were thin black tendrils, long enough that they extended under his clothes so that Legolas couldn't see the end of them. There were many of them, the elf estimated 6 or 7 individual lines. The wound was unmistakably poisoned with Morgul poisoning. The skin was red and inflamed where there was any skin left: lots of it had peeled away from the wound to reveal raw flesh underneath, although the black tendrils were still visible. The poison has spread far into the human's bloodstream: Legolas was surprised that the man was  even alive.

The hooded figure, Legolas didn't know who or what it was, raised it's head to look up at Legolas. My turn. The voice murmured inside his head. Come here. Legolas froze. What did it want with him? He couldn't just walk over to it, he didn't even know who was behind that dark hood. What would it do? Prove yourself. The words rang in Legolas' ears, near deafening him to the outside words. Prove, prove, prove. Prove yourself.

He took a tentative step towards the figure. Closer than that. Stubborn prince. Your father would be so disappointed in you if he could see you now. Legolas was in a sort of trance now, all he could hear was that voice inside his head, calling to him, instructing him. He would prove himself. And when he returned, Thranduil would be so proud of what his son had become. And so he did as he was told, and crossed the short distance to where the robed figure waited patiently.

Suddenly, he felt a blinding pain I'm his head, throbbing through him, making the worlds spin, and then he felt the heart-wrenching feeling of all thoughts being ripped from his mind. All control was stolen away from him and he stood, helpless, in front of the figure. He knew now what is was that stood before him. A Nazgûl. Oh Legolas you idiot. How could you? He thought helplessly. It was so obvious. How could he have been tricked like that? Mentally, he kicked himself for falling into the dark being's trap. He couldn't move. The Nazgûl had full control of his body, and most of his mind. Carefully, Legolas locked away his fear so the thing wouldn't see it.

Unable to stop himself, he knelt before the being. Trapped in his mind, he struggled to stand, to fight the dark presence streaming through his consciousness.

Good. The voice purred in his head. Now... what shall I do with you... ? Slave.

Legolas froze. No. He wouldn't. He couldn't. What would Adar think? He thought. But there was nothing he could do as the Nazgûl turned, and Legolas trailed along helplessly behind him, like a faithful dog following its master.

Sorry to anybody who likes Legolas for what I just did to him! I'm really sorry but it'll be ok! Or will it? Please comment and VOTE if you enjoyed!

Also sorry about the slow updating I've been away somewhere with no internet and I've been really busy! Thanks to everyone voting on this, especially Definitely-Lost and Cynarr who just started reading!