The eye watched the prince leave the throne room. It would be time to strike soon. Silently, it followed the lithe figure down the path, waiting. All it needed was for the prince to leave the safety of the Palace.
Reaching the perimeter of the palace grounds, Legolas stopped. He seemed to sense something was amiss. His tracker paused; discovery seemed eminent; tension hung in the air. Just as the tracker was about to abandon all hope and turn to run, the prince abruptly started walking again.
They continued out of the palace, through the gates manned by the guards. The tracker slipped past the guards easily.
Now out of sight of the guards, it was time. He could strike now. His waiting would not be in vain.
A body moved, quick as lightning, pouncing on the other, pinning him to the ground, who knew instantly that the game was up.
Not too far away, yet another was pinned to the ground.
"How dare you disobey me?" An ugly, grating voice resonated around the cave as a hand tightened around the unfortunate creature's throat.
"My men where getting restless. They need the sport to keep their morale up."
The hand tightened further still. A gasp was let out as the wretched one struggled to breathe.
"The Elven prince is not one to be trifled with. He is dangerous, and could destroy us!" The ugly red eyes coursed with hatred as he contemplated his prey.
Arms flailed weakly, trying to stop the torture, but there was to be no easing up. The struggles grew weaker, and a sickening snap filled the air. The Captain lay on the floor, his neck in an unnatural angle. Lifeless, horror-filled eyes stared up at the roof of the cavern.
A grunt of satisfaction escaped from his killer's throat. The Captain was a useless fool. He had revealed himself to the Elves. He had allowed his men to destroy the trees and alert the Elves. Now he had paid for his moment of weakness. They could not afford to put a step out of place.
"Why did you have to kill the poor soul, Yarnark?"
He whipped around, the voice sending icicles through his heart.
"He had allowed his men to - "
"I know, but why make such a big fuss?" The other stepped out of the shadow, a lazy smile playing about his face. "Why do you fear the Elves finding out about us?"
"Master, you do not understand."
"Oh I understand perfectly, my friend, in fact, I was the one who led the Princeling to the clearing that your Orcs made."
Yarnark tried hard to conceal his surprise and fear. Terror filled his very being as he struggled to maintain a calm voice.
"Why? Oh, it is very simple. I grew tired of waiting. Tired of having to hide in shadow and secrecy. Tired of shrinking from the open."
"Master, we are not as strong as you! We cannot stand sunlight - "
His protest was cut short by a wave of the hand.
"This is getting boring. Let's talk about something else. Something more interesting."
Grim teeth glittered in the dancing firelight. Not for the first time, the Orc felt a shiver run down his spine. The creature was overly complacent, and deranged as well. There was to be no telling what he would do to him if he argued any further. Cowering into his very skin, he nodded, fearfully. His response seemed to please his master. A laugh escaped from the hideous lips, reverberating around the cavern. More shivers ran down Yanark's spine as he stood there, awaiting his master's words, pretending to eagerly anticipate them.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.