Chapter 1
Amarth
'Hear that?' asked a guard on the right as quietly as he could manage. The guard on the left lowered his spear, pointing it towards the trees.
'Who's there?' he called. A high-pitched moan wandered out from the tress. There was a flash of light not too far into the woods that was the ripped cloth of a dress. A woman stepped out from behind a tree. She held a bundle in her hands that was wrapped in damp clothes.
'Please...' she moaned as she neared. The other elf lowered his spear and pointed it at her. She moved silently, her face as pale as the waning moon and eyes as dim as the furthest stars. 'Please... take her. Take her away!' Her eyes were bloodshot and dark, as though she had been crying. The guards noticed now that the bundle was stained with blood, along with the lower hem of her dress and the back of the torn skirt. Fear began to well up in their chests. 'Take her!' She cried. She thrust the wrapping into the guard's hands then turned and ran.
The two elves stared after her. Her dress flowed behind her like a veil. It was the last part of her they saw.
'Who was she?' asked one guard.
'I don't know.' answered the other with the bundle. He slowly began to unwrap the bloody blanket. As he pulled away the folds to see tan patches similar to the color of skin. The towel shifted
The bundle was the cradle for a newborn infant. Her eyes were big and blue and her hair a silvery white. She was looking up at him with her thumb in her mouth.
'A child?'
*
Legolas awoke with a frightening start. He sat bolt up right in his bed and stared around his room. Everything seemed to be in place. There was still a fountain in the center of the floor and the balcony doors were still shut tight. There were no shadows save for the once projected by the candlelight. The elf prince sighed with relief and fell back onto his pillow.
There was no witch standing in the center of the room, torturing him with her ugly powers. There were no wolves licking their chops hungrily in the corners, watching him die slowly. There were no flames licking the roof from the walls. There were no cobwebs hanging from the furniture. Everything was in place and as it should be.
The elf placed his feet on the floor and wiped his eyes. He roamed over to the balcony doors and opened them, stepping out into the new day.
Dew was still fresh on the trees that were planted on his marble patio. Several birds were perched on the railing but didn't soar off when Legolas neared them. The elven prince looked over the treetops towards the city of Mirkwood. The palace was located in the countryside where there was little to disturb King Thranduil and his son. A large shrubbery of trees circled to palace like a wall. The forest surrounded them in a solid ring, save for the road which lead away towards the city.
There were three towers that stood higher then most of the forest. In one of them was Legolas's chamber and he could see the whole courtyard. The courtyard had a concrete path and vast gardens that reached the very edges of the clearing. Legolas squinted down at three forms standing together in near the palace entrance. He immediately recognized one as his father with his tall figure and raven black hair. The other two were clad in elven armor meant for the guards. They were talking quietly and one of the guards was holding a bundle.
Curiosity pecked and Legolas's mind like a group of scavenging ravens. He noticed the bundle stirring, but didn't see the creature inside. Questions began to pop into his mind that he knew could only be answered by heading down there and joining in.
After he dressed in proper robes for the day he headed down the spiral stairwell to the ground floor. He came into the gallery and hurried by the servants who were arranging and rearranging flowers and tapestries. He headed down towards the entrance hall next to the throne room. The doors were ajar and two guards stood nearby, talking quietly. Mystery shrouded around the palace that morning.
Outside, Thranduil was taking the bundle from one of the guards.
'I wouldn't know how to care for it, but I'll do my best.' he said. The guards smiled at him and bowed.
'Would you like us to send someone out for the mother?' asked the shorter one.
'No. She's probably quite distressed. Leave her be.'
'Will you name the child?' asked the other. Thranduil shook his head quietly.
'I'll leave that to my son. He has always been good with names.' Legolas smiled and backed away from the door. 'I would like you to keep the news of this child to yourselves, please. I don't think the city would like to know there is a madwoman on the loose.' the elves bowed once more and left without an answer.
Legolas left the entrance hall back towards the gallery. The servants had left the tapestries alone and began to straighten the paintings of gardens and forests that hung on the walls.
It wasn't long before Thranduil stepped into the gallery and asked for Legolas's company. The servants ignored the two like they weren't even there. Thranduil lead Legolas out of the gallery, past the entrance hall, down a long corridor with several doors on each side.
'Legolas, this morning two guards came to the palace door with a visitor.' said Thranduil.
'I know.' replied Legolas.
'Yes, I already know you know and I was hoping that you might have thought of a name for her.' Legolas sighed. His father always knew where he was and what he knew. He never missed.
'I wish to see the child first, father.' Legolas answered. Thranduil nodded.
'Of course,' he stopped and faced a door that was slightly open. 'This way.'
Legolas entered the room to find that a bed had been set up for the child. She slept their comfortably and quietly. Her eyes shut gently hiding her round blues. Legolas smiled down at her. She wasn't even three days old. Her fingers and ears were smaller then he could imagine and her hair was a mop of silver. The newborn stirred and her eyes opened. Legolas gasped at how beautiful her eyes were.
'She's gorgeous...' he said. Thranduil nodded.
'I can't understand why any woman would want to rid herself of her baby like that.' he said. 'She's so beautiful and she hasn't cried since we took her in. She's... angelic, almost.' Legolas slowly reached down and lifted the baby from the crib. Her thumb was in her mouth and she sucked it noisily.
Legolas fell into a trance with her bright eyes and silver hair. She seemed so manipulative, even though she hadn't even the idea how to speak. As though she heard Legolas's thoughts, she grinned and gave a cough of a laugh. Legolas laughed back.
'What's so funny?'
'What'd you say, father?' Legolas turned to the king who still stood by the door.
'Me?' he asked. 'I didn't say anything.' Legolas stared at his father for a moment.
'Yes you did.' Thranduil shot him the same confused look.
'I didn't say anything.' he repeated. Legolas shrugged it off and thought it was just his imagination.
'It wasn't your imagination. It was me.' Legolas looked up and around the room. The voice was clearly not Thranduil's. It was soft and light, like a melody, and female. His eyebrows furrowed.
'Are we alone in this room, father?'
'As far as I know.' he said. 'Save for the baby. Have you decided on a name yet?'
'If I were you, I'd call myself Amarth.' Legolas looked into the child's eyes again.
'What?' he asked as a strange feeling began to pool in his stomach.
'Call me Amarth.' said the voice. Legolas could feel his spine tingle as the voice reached his ears again.
'Father, can you here her?' Legolas continued to stare at the baby.
'Hear who?' the king asked.
'Amarth would suit me best you know.' Legolas stared at the baby harder, as though trying to find something deep beneath the surface of her skin; something other then beauty and innocence. 'Amarth is what I will bring to this kingdom of yours.' Legolas hastily put the child back into its crib and glared at it, stepping away slowly.
An ugly flash of orange and red reach her once beautiful eyes. Legolas gasped as it disappeared faster then it came. He stumbled against the wall.
'Son, what has gotten into you?' laughed the king. 'I could almost say you are afraid of the child.' Legolas pressed himself against the wall. The baby laughed in its bed. Legolas's eyes widened and grew far away as something lit up inside his brain. It felt as though his head was on fire. 'Legolas?' Thranduil stared at his son inquisitively, still wearing the same smile.
As the burn in his mind passed, Legolas could hear the voice in his head again.
'Call me Amarth.' there was a striking amount of demand in the voice. 'That's what I want to be called.' Legolas felt his joints begin to burn and his spine begin to coil. The pain flared inside him and made him cringe.
'She wants to be called Amarth!' he cried.
'Amarth?' bellowed Thranduil, suddenly infuriated. 'Why in the world would you want to call her such a thing?' Legolas took several gasps of breath as the pain subsided. The baby laughed in her crib again. Sweat beaded his temples and hands.
'She wants to be called Amarth.' he repeated. 'That's what she told me.' Thranduil puffed out his chest angrily.
'I will not call her such a horrible thing!' he said. 'How could you think that should be her name? She's just an innocent child.' Legolas looked at Thranduil's eyes. They were full of rage directed straight at him. He felt pressure beginning to weigh him down.
'She spoke to me. She asked me to call her Amarth.' Thranduil's eyes narrowed. Legolas looked from him to the baby, then from the baby to him. Unable to take the rage penetrating his mind, he ran from the room.
In the elven language of Tel'Quessir, Amarth mean Doom.
Amarth
'Hear that?' asked a guard on the right as quietly as he could manage. The guard on the left lowered his spear, pointing it towards the trees.
'Who's there?' he called. A high-pitched moan wandered out from the tress. There was a flash of light not too far into the woods that was the ripped cloth of a dress. A woman stepped out from behind a tree. She held a bundle in her hands that was wrapped in damp clothes.
'Please...' she moaned as she neared. The other elf lowered his spear and pointed it at her. She moved silently, her face as pale as the waning moon and eyes as dim as the furthest stars. 'Please... take her. Take her away!' Her eyes were bloodshot and dark, as though she had been crying. The guards noticed now that the bundle was stained with blood, along with the lower hem of her dress and the back of the torn skirt. Fear began to well up in their chests. 'Take her!' She cried. She thrust the wrapping into the guard's hands then turned and ran.
The two elves stared after her. Her dress flowed behind her like a veil. It was the last part of her they saw.
'Who was she?' asked one guard.
'I don't know.' answered the other with the bundle. He slowly began to unwrap the bloody blanket. As he pulled away the folds to see tan patches similar to the color of skin. The towel shifted
The bundle was the cradle for a newborn infant. Her eyes were big and blue and her hair a silvery white. She was looking up at him with her thumb in her mouth.
'A child?'
*
Legolas awoke with a frightening start. He sat bolt up right in his bed and stared around his room. Everything seemed to be in place. There was still a fountain in the center of the floor and the balcony doors were still shut tight. There were no shadows save for the once projected by the candlelight. The elf prince sighed with relief and fell back onto his pillow.
There was no witch standing in the center of the room, torturing him with her ugly powers. There were no wolves licking their chops hungrily in the corners, watching him die slowly. There were no flames licking the roof from the walls. There were no cobwebs hanging from the furniture. Everything was in place and as it should be.
The elf placed his feet on the floor and wiped his eyes. He roamed over to the balcony doors and opened them, stepping out into the new day.
Dew was still fresh on the trees that were planted on his marble patio. Several birds were perched on the railing but didn't soar off when Legolas neared them. The elven prince looked over the treetops towards the city of Mirkwood. The palace was located in the countryside where there was little to disturb King Thranduil and his son. A large shrubbery of trees circled to palace like a wall. The forest surrounded them in a solid ring, save for the road which lead away towards the city.
There were three towers that stood higher then most of the forest. In one of them was Legolas's chamber and he could see the whole courtyard. The courtyard had a concrete path and vast gardens that reached the very edges of the clearing. Legolas squinted down at three forms standing together in near the palace entrance. He immediately recognized one as his father with his tall figure and raven black hair. The other two were clad in elven armor meant for the guards. They were talking quietly and one of the guards was holding a bundle.
Curiosity pecked and Legolas's mind like a group of scavenging ravens. He noticed the bundle stirring, but didn't see the creature inside. Questions began to pop into his mind that he knew could only be answered by heading down there and joining in.
After he dressed in proper robes for the day he headed down the spiral stairwell to the ground floor. He came into the gallery and hurried by the servants who were arranging and rearranging flowers and tapestries. He headed down towards the entrance hall next to the throne room. The doors were ajar and two guards stood nearby, talking quietly. Mystery shrouded around the palace that morning.
Outside, Thranduil was taking the bundle from one of the guards.
'I wouldn't know how to care for it, but I'll do my best.' he said. The guards smiled at him and bowed.
'Would you like us to send someone out for the mother?' asked the shorter one.
'No. She's probably quite distressed. Leave her be.'
'Will you name the child?' asked the other. Thranduil shook his head quietly.
'I'll leave that to my son. He has always been good with names.' Legolas smiled and backed away from the door. 'I would like you to keep the news of this child to yourselves, please. I don't think the city would like to know there is a madwoman on the loose.' the elves bowed once more and left without an answer.
Legolas left the entrance hall back towards the gallery. The servants had left the tapestries alone and began to straighten the paintings of gardens and forests that hung on the walls.
It wasn't long before Thranduil stepped into the gallery and asked for Legolas's company. The servants ignored the two like they weren't even there. Thranduil lead Legolas out of the gallery, past the entrance hall, down a long corridor with several doors on each side.
'Legolas, this morning two guards came to the palace door with a visitor.' said Thranduil.
'I know.' replied Legolas.
'Yes, I already know you know and I was hoping that you might have thought of a name for her.' Legolas sighed. His father always knew where he was and what he knew. He never missed.
'I wish to see the child first, father.' Legolas answered. Thranduil nodded.
'Of course,' he stopped and faced a door that was slightly open. 'This way.'
Legolas entered the room to find that a bed had been set up for the child. She slept their comfortably and quietly. Her eyes shut gently hiding her round blues. Legolas smiled down at her. She wasn't even three days old. Her fingers and ears were smaller then he could imagine and her hair was a mop of silver. The newborn stirred and her eyes opened. Legolas gasped at how beautiful her eyes were.
'She's gorgeous...' he said. Thranduil nodded.
'I can't understand why any woman would want to rid herself of her baby like that.' he said. 'She's so beautiful and she hasn't cried since we took her in. She's... angelic, almost.' Legolas slowly reached down and lifted the baby from the crib. Her thumb was in her mouth and she sucked it noisily.
Legolas fell into a trance with her bright eyes and silver hair. She seemed so manipulative, even though she hadn't even the idea how to speak. As though she heard Legolas's thoughts, she grinned and gave a cough of a laugh. Legolas laughed back.
'What's so funny?'
'What'd you say, father?' Legolas turned to the king who still stood by the door.
'Me?' he asked. 'I didn't say anything.' Legolas stared at his father for a moment.
'Yes you did.' Thranduil shot him the same confused look.
'I didn't say anything.' he repeated. Legolas shrugged it off and thought it was just his imagination.
'It wasn't your imagination. It was me.' Legolas looked up and around the room. The voice was clearly not Thranduil's. It was soft and light, like a melody, and female. His eyebrows furrowed.
'Are we alone in this room, father?'
'As far as I know.' he said. 'Save for the baby. Have you decided on a name yet?'
'If I were you, I'd call myself Amarth.' Legolas looked into the child's eyes again.
'What?' he asked as a strange feeling began to pool in his stomach.
'Call me Amarth.' said the voice. Legolas could feel his spine tingle as the voice reached his ears again.
'Father, can you here her?' Legolas continued to stare at the baby.
'Hear who?' the king asked.
'Amarth would suit me best you know.' Legolas stared at the baby harder, as though trying to find something deep beneath the surface of her skin; something other then beauty and innocence. 'Amarth is what I will bring to this kingdom of yours.' Legolas hastily put the child back into its crib and glared at it, stepping away slowly.
An ugly flash of orange and red reach her once beautiful eyes. Legolas gasped as it disappeared faster then it came. He stumbled against the wall.
'Son, what has gotten into you?' laughed the king. 'I could almost say you are afraid of the child.' Legolas pressed himself against the wall. The baby laughed in its bed. Legolas's eyes widened and grew far away as something lit up inside his brain. It felt as though his head was on fire. 'Legolas?' Thranduil stared at his son inquisitively, still wearing the same smile.
As the burn in his mind passed, Legolas could hear the voice in his head again.
'Call me Amarth.' there was a striking amount of demand in the voice. 'That's what I want to be called.' Legolas felt his joints begin to burn and his spine begin to coil. The pain flared inside him and made him cringe.
'She wants to be called Amarth!' he cried.
'Amarth?' bellowed Thranduil, suddenly infuriated. 'Why in the world would you want to call her such a thing?' Legolas took several gasps of breath as the pain subsided. The baby laughed in her crib again. Sweat beaded his temples and hands.
'She wants to be called Amarth.' he repeated. 'That's what she told me.' Thranduil puffed out his chest angrily.
'I will not call her such a horrible thing!' he said. 'How could you think that should be her name? She's just an innocent child.' Legolas looked at Thranduil's eyes. They were full of rage directed straight at him. He felt pressure beginning to weigh him down.
'She spoke to me. She asked me to call her Amarth.' Thranduil's eyes narrowed. Legolas looked from him to the baby, then from the baby to him. Unable to take the rage penetrating his mind, he ran from the room.
In the elven language of Tel'Quessir, Amarth mean Doom.