THE SHADOW
CHAPTER ONE
Eleanor ducked behind a large tree, her tired muscles beginning to throb from the constant running. For a mortal, this man was certainly fast. Quickly surveying the area, she breathed an inward sigh and cursed under her breath with a clenched fist as a wave of recognition ran through her. If she didn't apprehend the man now she would soon chase him into the Greenwood border, something she would rather it not come to. Silently she weighed up her options. She could let the villainous little whelp enter the wood and be captured by the guard, whereupon he would most likely be taken to the king and killed. Or, she could slip in unnoticed and steal him back but by doing so risk her own capture.
Fuck.
Turning on the balls of her feet, she began to sprint, damning herself for not finishing the job sooner. She would have done so, had she not run into a group of those wretched orcs. Truth be known, she had hoped to avoid any such distractions this time around but the foolish man had led her straight into them. From this, she had to save him and what thanks did he give for her merciful spirit? Absolutely none!
She stopped for a moment and lifted her ear to wind, the man was quite close to her now, she could hear him rasping for breath. Now was her chance. Swiftly, she scaled the thick trunk of a large tree until she was high enough to have the man in her sights. Peering through the leaves, she studied him, this was the first time she'd got to look at his face properly. He was dark skinned with broad shoulders that shook sporadically as he tried to regain his breath. His face glistened with sweat and he looked comparatively weak in that moment but he had thick, glossy locks that lifted in the wind. At any other moment she might have even found him handsome, she reflected. But not now.
Expertly, using her knees to balance on the thick branch, she notched an arrow and lined up her target. For a second, she almost allowed a brief pinch of sympathy to run through her. After all, he really did have no chance of survival from the moment that the father of the girl he'd defiled hired her to kill him. But, alas, it would not do to give in to such ghastly emotion. He had a debt to pay and she was the collector.
She released the arrow and with a quick thwish it struck a tree, sending splinters of wood all about the small clearing she looked down on. She frowned. Wasn't the man just sitting there? Never in a million years would she have missed the brute so, she concluded, he must have anticipated her and moved. But such speed was impossible for a mere mortal, wasn't it? She creeped forward along the branch to inspect further but with a rustle of leaves she felt a pair of strong arms around her waist and all to quickly she realised her mistake. Helplessly, she watched as the world moved around her and with a painful impact to her shoulder she was thrown to the ground.
Groaning, she looked up into a circle of cold eyes and allowed an audible sigh to escape her.
"I was hoping to avoid this."
Breaking the circle, a muscular ellon pushed through, his tall figure blocking out the strong midday sun. He pulled the man by his collar, his strong muscles rippling under his dark tunic.
"Does this belong to you?" he pushed the man forwards onto his knees, his bound hands clasped in prayer. Eleanor watched as his wild, feverish eyes roamed the circle, pleading with the strangers. It almost made her chuckle, knowing full well that he would find no council there.
"Yes, but not for much longer."
"Is that so?" he studied her for a moment, his forest green eyes shining with a hidden curiosity. He leaned forward to offer his hand, some strands of his lustrous chestnut hair falling to frame his face. After taking his hand and pulling herself up smiled smugly, finding that they were almost eye level.
"Please, she will kill me" the man hissed "I have money at my house, if you release me you shall be handsomely rewarded!" his feverish eyes scanned the group for any shred of sympathy.
"Silence your whining!" though he didn't bother to speak in common tongue, his meaning was evident by the malice in his words. "What a sorry bunch they are, always thinking of money"still, he stood for a moment and considered the man for before addressing the guard. "Stand down, we will take them both to the king."
"There is no need, release me and I shall be clear of these woods" a feeling of uneasiness nestled into her stomach. She had really hoped that it would not come to this.
"I do not doubt it but you have still trespassed upon the king's lands" he stated matter of factly, frowning at her "with a mortal no less. It is not for me to decide.".
"I am no more than 200 yards into this realm, I wish not to go any further. I seek no refuge here, only to conduct the duty with which I have been tasked" she knew that once the order had been passed, the guard wouldn't budge but she'd be a fool not to at least try.
"Never the less, it is the law of this realm that all trespassers must be brought before his royal highness, whomever they may be and whatever business they may have" looking into her eyes, he took a step forward and lowered his tone slightly "by the valar, do not make me have to use force for it pains me to handle a lady with such aggression."
Looking around at the unified faces she ran a hand through her messy hair and sighed. It was a quiet threat, but a threat never the less. A threat she doubted she could counter, given the number of them.
"So be it."
For the most part the journey moved on in a still silence. The stoic guard rode in perfect unison, the cold wind whipping through their silken hair, save for the sorry soul who was made to ride with the whimpering man. She, herself, wrapped her arms around the waist of the dark haired ellon, sharing his beastly steed. After some long hours of uninterrupted riding, and much to her pleasure, he finally called the group to a halt and announced they rest for the night.
Eleanor sat, leaning back on her hands, resting her tired legs and warming her skin in the amber glow of the camp fire. Many years had it been since she'd even entered the greenwood, let alone walked within it's walls and now she was being taken to the king. And all because that little cretin couldn't keep his hands to himself. He cowered away as she shot him a cold glare before returning to stare into the flames.
"So, what is your business with this mortal then?" she looked up as the ellon she now assumed to be the leader of the group took a seat next to her, his tone was light and friendly though she could tell his question was serious.
"Isn't that for the king to ask me?" she gritted her teeth, her response had come off more blunt than she'd intended but if he was offended he didn't show it.
"I ask not as your interrogator, merely out of my own curiosity" he smiled at her, earning a guarded half-smile in return. She couldn't remember the last time someone had smiled at her and even though he appeared completely genuine, her cautious side of couldn't help but feel some natural suspicion.
"Will I be interrogated then? That seems a bit unnecessary" with her right hand she played with a strand hair that had fallen loose, something she always did when she has nervous. In times of combat she was never nervous but these intimate talks weren't something she often engaged in.
"Who can say what the king will do with you? It's a mystery" his forest green eyes scanned the rest of the group, who were chatting and eating quietly amongst themselves, while he ran a large hand through his raven locks.
Something in his tone made her wonder just what he meant by that. If they had an unpredictable king it could well work to her advantage, all she'd have to do is employ some emotive language, wring a story of woe and womanly toil and she could probably leave by the time the sun had set. She had heard around the time of Oropher falling that his son had taken the throne, if he was anything like his father he would be a strict leader, dedicated to the cause but somehow those words suggested otherwise. In any case, she knew better than to ask.
"So who are you, then?" she wrapped her long arms around her knees and hugged them to her chest, glad for the thick cloak she wore.
"I am Neurion, commander of the 4th company under the royal guard" it was a proud title but he said it humbly, his upper lip tugging upwards in a small smile as he looked down into the crackling flames.
"I see" she wanted to say more but didn't really know how to continue, it had been along time since she'd had to engage in polite conversation the notion was almost lost to her. The only people she spoke to these days were merchants or, when she needed to make some quick money, people who wanted a job doing.
"And yourself?" he asked.
"I am called Eleanor"
He sat up and, turning to face her, studied her properly in the firelight.. His gaze made her uneasy and as she looked down at herself, she grimaced. She hadn't had time to change since the orc business let alone wash or brush a comb through her hair. Her boots were caked with mud and although she was desensitised from it by now, she didn't doubt that she stank of blood. She tensed as he leant forward, wondering what he was going to do, but he only swiped a finger across her knee before lifting it to his nose and making a sour face.
"And, Eleanor, is it you we have to thank for the pleasant pile of burning orcs some distance from east border?"
She shifted nervously as a few members of the group grew silent and turned to face her, eyebrows raised in anticipation.
"What if it is?" she spoke quietly, unsure of which path the conversation would follow.
With a hearty laugh, Neurion turned to the men and his green eyes creased with a large grin "it looks like we have found our shadow, gentlemen."
"Surely not" a fair haired ellon spoke up, snorting as he looked at her sceptically "the shadow can no be a female, he is an absolute brute. He swings and crushes with the wrath of his mighty sword, chopping down all those that dare to stand in his way " the elf made exaggerated gestures with his hands whispering bang bang sounds, much to the amusement of the others.
"Now Glandur, don't be such a cynic" he rolled his eyes and waved his hand dismissively before turning to Eleanor. "You see, Eleanor. Many a time our patrols have happened upon similar circumstances, it has become somewhat of a legend upon our ranks. They say the Valar have blessed us with a shadow, slaying the orcs before they even reach our borders."
Even though no-one would probably believe it was her, she smiled inwardly. She knew her activities might have been noticed but was quite far from the actual border. Even though she never actively planned to return to the greenwood, she had stayed close all these years. In a small way it felt like she was still doing a little duty to her former home.
"Well, I guess you'll have to see if they cease to appear while I am in your city" she said finally.
"A fine suggestion. A wager then, Glandur?" he turned to face the elf in question who, at this question, chuckled heartily.
"Of course, Neurion, I would gladly take the opportunity to rob you of your coin again."
"So be it" he clapped is large hands together "if in two weeks time no more of the wretched beasts show up slain on our doorstep you shall be in my debt old friend."
"Two weeks?" she interjected "I hardly plan to stay so long!" he turned to look at her, a glint in his eye from the reflection of the firelight.
"We shall see."
At first light they made their move. She hadn't slept much at all, it wasn't that the ground was particularly uncomfortable, she often slept outside, but it was sleeping with other people around that unnerved her. With her elf ears she could hear every sound, especially the breathing of the mortal. It was a wonder they got any sleep at all with him around. In any case, she thought, all she had to do was speak briefly with the king, perhaps make a few apologies and she would be back to the wilderness soon enough.
By the time the sun had reached it's highest point in the sky she could make out a long, stone bridge that she recognised instantly. It was built from the rock of the mountain it led up to and towered over the loud, rushing water below. Two magnificent pillars wrapped tightly in various climbing plants fronted a magnificent oak door flanked by two uniformed guards. After they dismounted, Neurion motioned for her to walk beside him before calling out behind.
"Glandur, take charge of the prisoner, he is not to speak, if he moves out of term then throw him into the river. The rest of you report back to the captain then return to your stations."
Silently, they disbanded one by one leaving a serene silence in their wake. Following Neurion, she approached the familiar doors. As she did so she bit down on her bottom lip as a wave of disquiet pass through her, whether is was borne of nostalgia or nausea she couldn't tell.
The two guards opened the doors and allowed them to pass through, she froze when she felt a sharp object poke her in the back. She turned to see Neurion wave a small dagger in the air.
"Regrettably, I cannot be so trusting of you within the palace."
She nodded, expecting as much, she was a stranger to him after all. In fact, she was surprised how kind he'd been to her in the first place. As they passed through the large entrance and into one of the main reception rooms Eleanor began to think of the days she had spent there as a child. Often, she would be scolded for running around unaccompanied in search of her father who would no doubt be involved in assisting the king late in one way or another. With gritted teeth, she dug her nails into her palms and tried to keep her face devoid of any emotion. Being back in the royal palace was causing memories to resurface and now was really not the time to lose control.
Soon enough they approached the antechamber to the throne room. The whole structure was supported by towering pillars and magnificent archways that were wrought like tree trunks. The room was wide and feral streaks of golden sunlight streamed through the high windows, illuminating the elaborate tapestries and delicate ornaments that graced the walls and tables.
As they neared the entrance to the throne room a booming, authoritative voice grew louder.
"My own two captains, brothers no less, making fools of themselves like drunken scoundrels" the low voice filled even the antechamber and it's evident anger reverberated off the walls.
"I should have you sent to the borders for three, no, four years at least!"
Neurion stood before the double doors and drew a small breath before knocking loudly upon the wood. There was a moment of still silence and he gritted his teeth together before he got his reply.
"Enter!"
The large doors swung open to reveal a grand, circular chamber five times the size of even the largest reception room. It was high and wide and every sound echoed and travelled throughout the space. The dark columns cast heavy, menacing shadows upon the inhabitants and the tall pillars stood proud, illusioning a set of towering archways that led up to the magnificent throne. In front of the chair, shadowed by a pair of prodigious elk antlers, stood the mighty king. He was tall and looming, all of his expression masked by shadow save for the grey eyes twinkling valiantly in the darkness. His face was chiselled and set by thick, luscious eyebrows and upon his head he wore a crown of branches and amber leaves.
To his side stood the two men she assumed had been on the receiving end of his rage. They were near identical and both had heads of sultry, deep brown. One stood with his head hung slightly, the other with his chest puffed out and hands behind his back. Resting languidly in a smaller chair, to the far left of the throne, sat a fairer haired elf that Eleanor didn't notice at first. His blue eyes twinkled with amusement anticipating the events that were about to unfold and as he took a sip of wine from his goblet, he sat up slightly, wanting to get a better view.
Nurien took her by the arm, escorting her past a set of armed guards before kneeling to the ground and, with a stern hand on her back, urging her to do the same.
"Rise, Nurien and Glandur" Thranduil spoke slowly and his low, rich voice infiltrated every space that the grand room had to offer. Glancing towards the two unfamiliar intruders, his top lip tugged upwards slightly in amusement, something only the people closest to him would ever even notice. With piqued interest, he added "explain yourself to me."
"Your highness, while on patrol my company and I intercepted the mortal and the elleth some 200 yards into the eastern border" Neurion stood proudly with his head held up high, though all trace of the aloofness he has shown Eleanor the night before was gone, he was in the presence of a king now. His king.
Thranduil considered Neurion's words for a moment before stepping forward, slow and purposefully with his hands behind his back. For a few moments the only sound was the slick heel click of his boots on the stone floor and Eleanor held her breath in her throat, not wanting to be the one to break the silence.
"And what purpose do you have" he stopped to a halt in front of Eleanor, coming up a full head taller than her and as she looked up into his cool, grey eyes she found herself unable to speak "trespassing in my grounds?" as he spoke, shifting his head slightly, she noticed the light dance against his silvery hair, illuminating every silken strand.
Searching her eyes with his own, openly amused at her flustered reaction, he brought a long ring-clad finger and gently brought her chin upwards so that she was facing him fully. She inhaled his manly scent, her breath catching in her throat. For a second she was so lost in the woodsy aroma of nuts, spices and clean perspiration that she had difficulty trying to formulate a coherent response. Just as she was about to string a sentence of words together she was saved by an interruption from the back of the throne room that caused Thranduil to turn his back to her. As she did so she exhaled a quiet sigh of relief and felt frustration build for allowing herself to act like a fool.
"Actually my King, pardon the interruption but I wouldn't necessarily call the lady a trespasser since she is, in fact, known to us" the fair haired elf that had been hiding in the corner of the room stepped into the light and leaned a languid elbow against the pillar beside him, a smirk plastered on his face "well met Eleanor, it must be centuries now."
"Well met, Arandur" she replied, feeling somewhat relieved to see a familiar face. It was short lived, however since Thranduil looked between the two with raised eyebrows and turned to face her again.
"Your answer, if you please?"
"I was simply doing my duty to apprehend this individual, unfortunately I chased him into the border, had we not been intercepted by the patrol I would have left" she kept her face still and devoid of any emotion as she gestured towards the man, still cowering on the floor.
"She plans to kill me, sir, please, I beseech your mercy I have done nothing-"
"Silence, mortal!" Glandur hissed and brought his knee hard into the man's stomach.
"Is this true?" as he said this, Thranduil smiled placidly at her, his head high and shoulders back.
Taking a deep breath, Eleanor simply nodded her confirmation, not wanting to explain herself further.
He studied her for a second further with an unreadable expression before he slowly sauntered towards the man and leered over him. The man looked up with quivering shoulders and tears brimming his eyes. The mortal tried to control his rapid breathing before swallowing the lump in his throat and opening his mouth to speak. Before he could say anything, though, Thranduil brought his hand to his hip and unsheathed wickedly curved sword. The silver blade glinted proudly as it rose over his head and, for a moment, caught a golden ray of sunlight. In one fluid motion he brought it down on the man, decapitating cleanly his head that rolled onto the floor with open, lifeless eyes. His body followed a second later, hitting the ground with a thud and unleashing from it's neck a thick river of dark, red blood that spilled onto the floor. Wrinkling his nose at the sight, Glandur stepped back not wanting to stain his boots.
Throwing his sword to the floor, Thranduil took three long strides to the center of the room and looked around at his witnesses, daring anyone to speak first. Eleanor seemed to be the only one who was shocked, though she only showed it for a split second. The rest of the elves looked forward impassively save for Arandur who had returned to his seat, a bemused grin plastered on his face.
"Well, Eleanor" Thranduil began "I have completed your task, you are now in my debt. How will you pay me?"
She opened her mouth in protest but before she could say anything the king rose his hand to silence her.
"How will you pay me?" he repeated, quieter this time.
She resisted he urge to speak back, even if she did not agree with his sneaky method it would not do to run her mouth at the king so instead she bit her tongue. She pondered the situation for a moment and silently retrieved a leather purse of jingling coins from her pack.
"This is his bounty, if it pleases you" she said through gritted teeth.
"Do not insult me!" he bellowed and recoiled dramatically "I have no want for your gold, put it away. What kind of respectable lady takes bounties?" She frowned slightly, not knowing why that statement bothered her. She was about to reply until, much to her relief, Arandur stood up to speak.
"Actually, my king, pardon my second interruption but Eleanor is of noble birth from the well respected house of-"
"My lord!" before Arandur had a chance to finish his sentence a dark haired ellon burst through the doors of the rear exit, looking quite bewildered.
"My lord, I beg your pardon for my rudeness but" he stopped in his tracks and glanced at the body on the floor, grimacing for a moment before continuing "I wished to inform you that two from the 12th have been injured-."
"Silence yourself, Irion! What a soft hand I must have for my advisor's to interrupt me and barge into my throne room like insolent children!"
"My lord" The ellon now known as Irion sank to his knees and bowed low to the ground, his arm behind his back "my lord, I humbly ask you forgive my rudeness. I forget myself, I acted most foolishly."
"That you did, Irion. Now, rise and complete your message" said Thranduil, gesturing with his hand for him to do so.
"Two men from the 12th have been wounded encountering a group of orcs" Irion looked worriedly towards the king.
"Why was this allowed to happen?" Thranduil knitted his brows together, all traces of his earlier smirk now banished "I am much displeased" he concluded.
"I am told that the orcs grow bolder and we have not the men to increase patrols, sir" Irion's worried eyes searched the king's face for a reaction.
"Forgive my prudence but if I may make a humble suggestion" said Eleanor, quietly. She didn't know why she'd said it and immediately after she regretted her words but it was something she'd noticed the night before and, if there was at all a chance it would put her in the king''s good books, she had to try it.
Thranduil turned to her and watched her for a second, expecting her to squirm under his gaze but instead she pushed her shoulders back and held her head high, looking at him without flinching.
"Go on" he offered, some of the former smirk returning. She smiled, her defiance had pleased him. So far.
"It understand correctly from my observation, the size of a full company is but 12 men. It may be wise to double the size of the company rather than increasing the frequency of the patrol. This will not only minimize injuries but will simultaneously increase efficiency without having to recruit and train more men" she barely remembered to stop for a breath but point was made. Besides, she knew it would work.
The king looked at her for a few moments afterwards, his face expressionless. Swiftly, he turned to the two brothers.
"What say you, captains? Feredir, Faelon...will it work?"
Feredir shared a look with his brother before turning to the king.
"Sound logic your highness, however-" before he could finish, Thranduil put up a hand to silence him.
"I ask only, will it work?"
Pausing for a moment to silently consult his brother, Feredir quickly nodded "it may do, your highness."
"Make it so" pleased, he stepped away and waved dismissively to the a shocked Irion.
"Forgive my, your highness, but this is outrageous" the flabbergasted man opened his arms in protest "how can you take the word of, well, her on this matter?"
"You lack understanding of things military, Irion. Else you would see that my actions have been correct at all times" his tone grew threatening and he spoke slowly, indicating to the elf that the time for arguments was now over. Raising his hand to his heart, Irion nodded and swiftly left the room.
"Now as for the rest of you, I grow tired of this. Eleanor, until you think of a way to repay my generosity you are to reside in the dungeon" as Feredir and Faelon snickered to each other, she made to protest but a glance from the king told her it was not a suggestion. "As for you two fools" he turned to the brothers "you are to guard her until I see fit to grant release."
"Yes, your highness" Feredir grunted while Faelon rolled his eyes.
"Neurion, you and Glandur clean up this mess and report back to duty."
Stifling a yawn, Thranduil watched as the pair carried the lifeless body out of the room and as Eleanor, escorted by the brothers, sulked into the corridor. She was an unusual creature to say the least, but still, even though one of his closest advisors, Thranduil always took a kind of perverse pleasure in seeing Irion look so flustered. He ascended the stairs to his beloved throne, his quiet footsteps echoing throughout the wide room, and sank into the chair crossing one leg leisurely over the other.
"Arandur, my friend, fetch me some wine" closing his eyes, he rolled his head around his shoulders until he heard the satisfying clicks.
Arandur appeared at his side, two golden goblets in hand, one of which he handed to Thranduil and the second he drank from himself. Bringing the cool brim of the goblet to his parched lips, the king let the bitter liquid run down his throat and sighed contentedly.
"Beriadan will not be pleased with a change to the patrols" Arandur spoke quietly and perched himself upon one of the steps.
"Beriadan? What of Beriadan? Capitan of the guard he may be but I am still his king. He will do as I command.."
"Ah, but he has much influence over the guard" Arandur turned to face the king, a worried expression on his face "they trust him."
"Influence?" Thranduil knitted his brows together "what influence? Do not riddle me, my friend, speak directly."
"It is nothing, my king, a passing comment. How about this prisoner of yours, then?" Seeing Arandur's usually calm demeanour return, Thranduil took another sip from the goblet, assured for the time being. He placed his chin between his thumb and forefinger, resting his elbow on his knee and began to speak.
"Ah yes, tell me more of this girl, Arandur. How well is she known to you? Why have I not seen her before? Her silver hair does not escape me."
"Well, doubtless she has changed since last we spoke, I can tell that from her. . .unkempt appearance alone. She was once quite the catch."
"Quite the catch, you say?" his upper lip tugged upwards and his eyebrow raised.
"In both character and appearance. A daughter of nobility in fact."
"Nobility, you say, do continue."
"When her father, was slain she fled the city, I believe you were only an elfling then. Quite the scandal, actually. Valar knows what kind of business she has been attending to all these years but it doesn't look pretty."
"And her father?"
"An aristocrat no less."
"How very interesting"
A daughter of nobility turned renegade assassin? It was absolutely unheard of, a thing of tales. Thranduil took in all that he had learnt, a plan starting to form in his mind. Smiling, he drained the rest of his goblet and sank further into the throne feeling the familiar warmth spread through his limbs.
"How very interesting indeed."
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Well, that's it. That's the first chapter. Hopefully it's not too riddled with inaccuracies, although I did plan this to be slightly AU. Please let me know what you think!