Hidden
By ApplePumpkinPatch
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, items, or places that you recognize. They all belong to the talented Mr. Tolkien. I am simply borrowing these elements to tell this story.
Thanks for beginning this ride with me. Here we go.
Hidden
It's funny, the things you remember after something bad happens. The smallest and the most seemingly insignificant of moments which have passed you by without pause suddenly begin to replay in slow motion, over and over again, with torturous detail. The errors of your ignorance light up like beacons, begging you see the reasons you should have stayed a little longer, and ignored whatever you thought was more important at the time.
The moments that you took for granted have become cruel manifestations. Cruel manifestations that leave you powerless over the things that you could have changed in the span of seconds and that will forever haunt you with the question of "what if?" The past is clearer to you now than when it was in the moment, and the things you didn't think you saw are eternally branded upon your memory with blinding clarity.
You cannot change the past you begin to realize, and yet every time these moments blur your vision you cannot help but try and undo what has or has not been done; an act that will forever result in a lingering failure. It is a failure that burns at your soul each time you walk past a familiar room, put on a particular piece of clothing, or look at a certain image. It is a failure which accuses you of all that you should have done but didn't, and it does so accompaniedby the music of scornful and sarcastic laughter.
You will never forget. You will never make amends.
Prologue
"Will he recover?"
The tone of the Elvenking's question held little to no emotion. There was a tinge of disdain, but to anyone who was unfamiliar with King Thranduil, he would have seemed to be completely indifferent about whether the figure lying on the bed in front of him would survive the night. His crossed arms and passive expression also gave indication about his lack of concern, but Naryn knew better.
"I believe he will" Naryn replied as he pulled the blanket up over the unconscious dwarf. "He sustained several serious injuries, but he should recover. It will be a slow recovery no doubt, but with time, there should be no lasting effects." Naryn could tell immediately that his King was less than pleased about the 'slow recovery' he spoke of, but he also knew that Thranduil needed answers from the dwarf, and so recovery was the response that had been hoped for. As the kingdom's head healer, Naryn had known Thranduil for centuries, and he could see past the cold exterior that the King was putting on. He could see the feelings that the King was successfully hiding from everyone else. They were feelings of bitterness, anger, frustration, and fear.
A knock on the door interrupted their conversation and it was followed by the entry of a single elven guard. "Your highness" the guard began with a slight bow that Thranduil did not turn his gaze from the dwarf to see. "The other prisoner has awoken. She seems more willing to cooperate. She has asked to speak with you again."
Thranduil was unimpressed upon hearing this. Without acknowledging the information that had just been given to him, Thranduil instead posed a question to the guard. "And my son? What news do you bring me of him?"
It was a question that the guard had dreaded being asked. A surge of panic flowed through him as a silence lingered after the question had been posed. Naryn looked to the guard with an expression of sympathy, as he understood how difficult it could be to deliver bad news to the King. Especially when it was bad news regarding the welfare of the Prince. It was probably only a second or two before the guard's lack of response finally earned him the eyes of the King, and it was a stare that made him want to sink into a deep, dark hole in the ground. Knowing that silence was not going to be an acceptable answer, the guard finally forced himself to speak the words that he did not want to say.
"No news yet, your highness. However we have not stopped in our search. With a little bit of luck, we have no doubt that we shall find him soon."
The guard was right. This was not what the King wanted to hear. If emotions were hidden from Thranduil's features before, they were clear as day now. Rage blazed in his cerulean eyes as he took a step towards the guard. "Luck?" he repeated with disgust. "I ask you for news about the well being of your Prince, and you tell me that you are relying on luck as a means of finding him?"
"My King..." Naryn began, hoping to provide some assistance to the guard, but Thranduil ignored him.
"Luck is for the weak and incompetent" the King continued. "Tell me, are you weak and incompetent?"
"No" replied the guard.
"Are your soldiers weak and incompetent?"
"No, your highness."
"Good. Then you will disregard this notion of luck. You will go out there and perform your duty. You will go out there and you will find my son. Is that understood?"
"Yes, your highness." With another quick bow, the guard quickly left the room.
Thranduil gave one last glance at the unconscious dwarf as he addressed Naryn once again. "I am to be alerted immediately when he wakes up. And he does not leave this room without my consent under any circumstances. He is not even allowed to die without my consent, do you understand?"
Naryn nodded. "I understand" he replied as he then performed a rather bold gesture by placing a reassuring hand on the King's shoulder. The look of surprise shone in Thranduil's eyes for less than a second at the action. Naryn's understanding was not just of the orders that he had been given, but also as to why they had been given and how. It was a mutual understanding between the King and healer, and for the briefest of moments, Thranduil embraced the offered comfort.
"If I am needed, I will be in the dungeons. I have a prisoner to interrogate." Naryn nodded and returned to his work as Thranduil exited the room and made his way down the hall towards the holding cells.
.
.
Kalina's head was throbbing as she forced herself to sit upright in the small cell. Her vision was far less cloudy than it had been when she had passed through the gates of Mirkwood, and she could tell, by the bandages on her arms and torso, that she had been tended to while she had been unconscious. The physical pain had lessened, that much was certain, but Kalina was still haunted by the emotional pain of what had happened within the last twelve hours. The horror still lingered. The anger still lingered. And most of all, the guilt still lingered.
"I understand that you are ready to talk" The commanding voice of the King, from outside her cell door, interrupted her train of thought. Kalina immediately rose from the bed she sat on and moved to stand in front of him, all the while ignoring the nausea that the move caused her to feel.
"Yes." The shaky response came out with more than a tinge of desperation in it. Kalina could feel the tears begin to pour down her cheeks as she looked up into the eyes of the elf in front of her. She was scared of him. Scared of the anger he radiated. Scared of the way he looked down at her. Scared of what his reaction would be when he found out about what had happened. Scared of the answer he would give her to the question she forced herself to ask. "How is my friend?
"It seems that you are mistaken as to how this is going to work. You do not get to ask the questions. I will be the one asking the questions."
"Your Highness, please.." Kalina did not get to finish her plea, as Thranduil continued to speak over her as though he did not hear her at all.
"My questions are few, and very simple, so that even the dullest of minds may understand clearly the information that I am after. "
"You want to know where your son is." Interruption was contagious it seemed, and rather than being annoyed with this, Thranduil let out the first smile he had in a long time.
"Yes." The reply was simple, complex, cold, demanding, and desperate all at the same time.
Kalina wanted to give an answer that would please him, but she knew that she could not. She took a deep breath and held back any of the tears that wanted to escape. "I do not know where your son is." Kalina was both surprised and impressed with how evenly she had spoken this response. She hadn't shaken and shrunk away from the King this time, even though she desperately wanted to. Her hysterics hadn't worked since she had first encountered Thranduil and his guards, so she knew if this conversation was going to go anywhere, she'd have to hold herself together. It was taking a lot of effort though, and she had a feeling that not saying the names of her friends was helping a tad. Despite that, the response she got from Thranduil made it even harder to keep composed.
"Then this conversation is over. You will stay here, and you will rot away in that cell."
"Wait!" Kalina's composure started breaking as the King started to walk away. "Please."
Thranduil paused, and turned his head slightly so that Kalia could see his profile as she grasped the bars frantically. "You claim not to know where my son is, yet you somehow managed to find your way into my kingdom using a path that only my son or I may have unlocked for you. I assume it was my son, as you were found with one of his knives on you." Thranduil didn't bother mentioning that the knife was covered in blood, and his fear that it might belong to his missing heir.
Memories started to flood back for Kalina of the last time she had seen the Prince, and she felt her hands start to shake. "Please," she began again, keeping her voice as steady as she could muster. "My friend was badly hurt. Please, you have to tell me if he is alright." He had to be alright. He had to.
That did it. If Thranduil had been trying to keep his composure, he abandoned the task entirely.
"I do not have to tell you anything!" He declared as he moved back to the cell door with such speed that it caused Kalina to move backwards, away from him. "I do not have to tell you if my healers were able to save his miserable life. I do not have to tell you if he died in agony." Kalina's eyes began to tear up as he spoke to her with a voice filled with complete repulsion. "Something has become of my son, who certainly provided you some sort of aid to get into those tunnels. And rather than tell me the truth about his condition or whereabouts, you stand there and lie to me, pretending to know nothing. After which, you then try to demand that I provide you answers about the condition of that stupid creature you dragged along with you."
That did it. Kalina abandoned the task of trying to keep her composure entirely.
"That stupid creature has a name." She moved up against the bars again, and she finally found the courage to look Thranduil dead in the eye. "His name is Gimli, and he is one of Legolas' dearest friends." She knew immediately that saying their names out loud had broken her resolve to stay calm. She could also see that Thranduil recognized the change in her as well by the way he now studied her reddening face.
"Gimli has to be okay. He has to, because I promised Legolas that he would be." She was crying openly now. "I am not lying to you, I swear. Yes, Legolas did help us get to the tunnels, but he did not follow. He couldn't. We were ambushed and he was trapped. He told me to run, to get Gimli to safety. I lost sight of him. I didn't want to leave him there..."
"But you did." It was not a question. Thranduil was accusing her, and his expression was unreadable again.
Kalina's tears stopped as she nodded. She accepted responsibility for her actions. For all of it. "Yes. I left Legolas there, and they took him."
Took him. Thranduil rose a brow at this. Not killed; they took him. "Who are they?"
"The creatures that are after me. They've been hunting me for months. Legolas and Gimli have been trying to help me figure out why, but so far the answers have been few and far between." It was true, and while Thranduil could not pinpoint exactly what it was that told him so, he knew she was telling him the truth now.
The King considered the girl in front of him for a moment before he spoke to her again. "These creatures.." he began slowly, "why, if they were after you, would they take my son instead? And where would they have taken him?" A sinking feeling began to fill Thranduil's chest as he considered the darkness that had haunted his heart as of late. Despite the growing peace that had resulted in Sauron's defeat, Thranduil had a sense that not all evil had been extinguished, and he feared that his son had put himself in the path of it yet again.
Kalina's features nakedly expressed her regret and guilt. "I have no idea. This whole situation stems from a very long story, and sadly, there is so much of this story that I still do not know."
A long story? "Then I suggest you begin this story now" Thranduil insisted.
Kalina nodded and took a deep breath, but as she was about to speak, the King spoke again. "The dwarf will live." She looked up at him as he said this, and for the first time since coming to Mirkwood, she felt a small sense of relief. She had kept her promise to Legolas. And while it didn't bring the elf back to her safely, it eased a bit of the worry tugging on her heart.
"Now, I will accept no more delay. You say that Legolas has been taken. His life is no doubt as risk. I would know everything. Start from the beginning."
Kalina wiped her eyes, and did as she was told. "It all started about three months ago. On the day I met your son." Kalina paused briefly as she met the steel eyes of the King that stood in front of her with his arms crossed expectantly. She braced herself to tell the story of what had led her to this jail cell, with one friend severely wounded, and theother, the elf she had come to adore,missing.
"This story begins like a lot of them do. With a wedding. My wedding."