"May the grace of the valar rest with us," Jaiz breathed. He shifted on his horse, staring at the tall stone walls ahead of him. The great stone walls formed a square, a tall tower at each corner. The spires of the caste within the keep were visible over the tops of ramparts. A heavy iron gate stood in the wall of the keep facing toward Jaiz and his companions. A dusty road wound its way through the grass and ended at the gate. Soldiers lined the battlements above it, peering at the approaching party suspiciously, their armor and spears glinting in the sunlight.
"The valar would not dare bring misfortune upon us," Thranduil said merrily. He dressed in a silver and black silk robe with swallow-tailed sleeves and heavy full skirts. On his neatly combed hair, a circlet is pure silver encrusted with diamonds rested. He wore a ring with a diamond of such large proportions, it covered the finger he wore it on, and half of the one next to it. Around his neck, a heavy but glittering necklace of diamonds hung. The humans could not fail to notice the wealth he possessed; he was almost a riding mound of gold. Behind him, his companions rode, two abreast to each other, dressed in plain green robes with gold embroidery around the hems.
Flyfire approached the gate. Two guardhouses flanked the road inside the gate, built back against the wall behind it. A man with a red-plumed helmet stood on the ramparts above the gate, flanked by a row of soldiers. His red cloak rippled in the wind as he rested his hands on the wall hiding his lower half and leaned down, commanding, "Who are you?"
Thranduil assumed his most haughty air. "It is a sad day when humans do not recognize Prince Thranduil of Greenwood the Great."
The captain's frown showed even under his helm. "It is common knowledge you and your father are not on good terms. You are said to be mad."
"The business of my father and I long ago was cleared up," Thranduil said icily. "And it is no concern of yours. My father has sent me as his representative in response to Lord Dexxter's gracious invitation. His family and mine have known each other for generations."
The captain eyed Thranduil, his eyes drawn to the elf's glittering jewels. "Your invitation, please?"
A small door in the stone wall opened and a soldier came out. He approached Thranduil and held out his hand. Thranduil looked with distaste at the man and turned his head away. Jaiz handed the forged invitation to the soldier, saying, "His lordship will not associate with the lower ranks."
From the battlements, the captain gestured to Thranduil's companions. "Who are they?"
"My escort," Thranduil said haughtily. "you cannot expect me to travel alone in dangerous times, can you? My life would be lost many times over if it were not for the skills of my escort!"
"Invitations, please."
"I was informed by a personal letter from Lord Dexxter that my escorts' invitations are considered to be a part of mine," Thranduil said coldly.
"I will have to check that statement with his lordship," the captain said pleasantly.
"Do not bother yourself," Thranduil said in disgust. "I find your attitude to be insulting. You doubt my word? The word of Prince Thranduil? I will not go where I will be treated with such disrespect. I will return home, and explain matters to Lord Dexxter by letter." He started to turn Flyfire around.
A million thoughts roared through the captain's head and most of them involved utter disgrace and dismissal. Lord Dexxter would be furious if he learned Prince Thranduil had been turned away from the gates by him! who knew what his punishment would be.
"Wait, your lordship! I am sure everything is in order. You and your escort may enter!"
Thranduil sniffed and allowed Flyfire to trot forward as the iron gate rose from the ground to allow him admittance to the keep. After his companions entered, the gate fell to the ground with a heavy thud. Thranduil rode over the hard ground toward the flight of steps leading to the double doors of the castle. At the steps, he dismounted and allowed a group of servant boys to take Flyfire and his escorts' horses to the stables. The double doors opened and a man in a black robe came down the steps. "Allow me, my lords, to escort you to the gathering."
Rose vines surrounded the double doors. At the top of the stairs, a short landing stretched out with tall statues of lions on either side. Thranduil and his companions followed their guide. Thranduil hitched up his skirts and stepped mincingly over the steps, his eyes on the hem of his robe. Two soldiers pulled open the doors, closing them after the party had entered the long hall beyond.
Thranduil let his robes fall to the polished marble floor of the hall. The dark hall flickered with the light of the torches lining the walls, but the oily smoke rising from them made the air unappetizing. The man in black led the way through the castle. The servants and guards they passed all bowed respectfully to Thranduil, but he kept his eyes always ahead of himself. The man in black descended many flights of stairs until he came to a door set in the wall at the bottom of a flight of steps. The soldier on guard unlocked the door, and the guide led the way into the cold, damp passageway beyond.
The Five Masters walked down the passageway. The guide used a set of iron keys to unlock the many doors they came to, and lock them behind himself. At the last door, the sounds of many voices could be heard. The guide opened the door, softly announcing, "His lordship, Prince Thranduil." He departed after Thranduil entered the room.
The room held many people. Guards lined the walls of the room, their eyes centered on the crowds of people. The people were all dressed in black jerkins and tunics, weapon hilts glinting. Their voices echoed around. At raised stone platform stood at the head of the room, with a three foot high block of stone on its center. Carvings of serpents and horned demons covered the floor. Tow entwined serpents arched over the platform, their fangs dripping invisible venom. In front of the stone block stood a man in a black and red robe. His stringy black hair rimmed his sickly pale face. His skin stretched thin over the jutting bones of his face, his eyes pools of black smoke. Lord Dexxter held a dagger with a long, thin blade and a jeweled hilt.
"Today, loyal followers of power, we appease the thirst of the Dark Lady!" lord Dexxter declared. "Today, this group of loyal companions, will become a legend! We will rise from the ashes of nothingness and raise an army to aide Sauron in this war! With our aide, Sauron and the Dark Lady will rule this petty world, and reward us with great power for our efforts! The Lord and his wife will direct the beings of this world to put all their energy into the building of a great empire. This world will thrive! But it all begins here, my friends. It all begins with the summoning of demons to aide us. It all begins with the blood to summon the demons. It all begins with the sacrifices of royal blood. And with the blood of royalty our Sivagami has brought us this day, success is sure!"
Cries and cheers of enthusiasm greeted Lord Dexxter's speech. The spears of the guards pounded against the floor in time to the stamping feet and deafening shouts.
"Bring forth the sacrifices!" Lord Dexxter commanded. "Long has Sivagami suffered under the tyranny of King Oropher, naught but a petty breeder for his children. She has suffered willingly in order to bring us worthy sacrifices of noble blood! The Dark Lady recognizes her as a loyal follower, whose example will be followed by many in the future."
From a door in the wall came two soldiers. Between them they held a small, bruised elfling in ragged clothes. Tears ran down his pale face. The soldiers dragged the boy to the stone block and forced him to his knees before Lord Dexxter.
"Do not cry, little one," lord Dexxter said, wiping the tears from the elfling's face with his gloved hands. "This is a day to rejoice! You are serving the greater good. Through your spilled blood, the world will achieve a great age of power!"
The elfling shuddered. The soldiers slammed him down on the stone block, fastening chains attached to the stone around his wrists and ankles. The elfling struggled but he was held firmly.
From the same door came two more soldiers, dragging between them another elfling. This one too was bruised and ragged, but he struggled fiercely, screaming. The soldiers shoved him to the ground before Lord Dexxter, angrily hitting the boy. "Silence, you rat! Keep your mouth shut and your death will not be painful!"
The elfling huddled on the ground, sobbing.
Another door opened in the wall and Sivagami strode out, dressed in a dark leather tunic. She marched the stand beside lord Dexxter on her long, black clad legs. Four soldiers came behind her, their eyes on their responsibility. The elf's blue robe was ragged and he stumbled, his blonde hair hanging in dirty clumps. Dried tears and blood stained his face. Heavy shackles hung from his wrists, linking his hands together.
"Ada!" screamed the elfling on the stone block.
"Ada," sobbed the elfling on the floor.
Thranduil shook his head to clear the shock from his mind. Jaiz leaned over to him, and whispered in his ear, "Are those not your parents? What in the name of the valar transpires here?"
Any thoughts and suggestions on the story are appreciated. Thanks.