You really made my day with your reviews! Thank you, they were wonderful! Hope you enjoy this chapter too! More torture for Legolas awaits in the next one. If there are any mistakes in it -which undoubtly will be the case- please feel free to contact me!
ElvesAreEpic: I've not yet decided what I will do to her, so perhaps I will hand her over to you once her role has ended ;) I hope I was in time to prevent the really valuable stuff to be thrown on the ground :)
GRuth: Thank you! I hope you enjoy this one too!
nourss: Thank you! A quick update, as ordered :)
sassyfriend: I hope I could satisfy your curiosity a bit in this chapter :P
TheButterflyCurse996: You do? What a coincidence, I referred to that one when I wrote the chapter! ;) Thank you for your compliment! I do hope my english is improving, anyway. Yeah, poor Faramir. I fear they have a bad influence upon him!
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I would like to dedicate this chapters to the victims of the bus accident. On the 13th of March, a school bus full of children who were returning home from a trip in Switserland, slipped and smashed against the wall in the tunnel. 28 People died, of whom 22 12-year-old children. There will be a day of national mourning tomorrow. I thought it was fitting to dedicate this chapter to the family, how little and insignificant it is.
Aragorn took the time to deeply breath in and out. He dreaded this, but he also couldn't just deny it. It would not be fair, not to Thranduil and not to Legolas. His hand rested for a moment upon the handle, then he pushed it down abruptly and entered Legolas' room.
The elf was in exact the same position like he left him. He was sitting cross-legged upon the bed, his hands resting upon his knees. Staring right before him. When Aragorn closed the door, he turned his head to him, but he didn't seem to see his friend. Those vacant eyes were the most terrifying. Where once they had held that eternal sparkle of merriment, there was now nothing. Even the Void couldn't be more lifeless.
"Legolas? How are you today?" The elf cocked his head in a vaguely curious way, but remained silent.
"I brought you some food. Thought you would be hungry." Carefully, he placed the plate in Legolas' lap. His friend followed every move he made, but didn't do any effort to take the spoon.
"You should eat a bit, Legolas. Dinemîn made it especially for you. It would be your favourite dish, if I understood her well." The elf sighed deeply and started looking out of the window, completely forgotten that Aragorn was still there. For a moment, the man kept standing there. It all had happened so fast! That blasted evening, everything had started. In a few days, Legolas had forgotten his name, his life, his friendship for Aragorn and his love for his father. Now, he was rather an empty shell than a living elf.
"Legolas. You really, really should eat," he repeated patiently. The elf just completely ignored him.
"Fine." Every day he tried to make the elf eat by himself, but that seemed an impossible task, so he just would have to feed him again. He broke a piece of the bread and sopped it into the soup, then he offered it to his friend. The elf stared at it for a moment, as if he had never seen such a thing before in his life. When he seemed reassured that it wasn't dangerous, he carefully took the soggy food and put it into his mouth, chewing it slowly and thoroughly. After he had finished the piece, Aragorn gave him another piece. So it went on for some minutes, until the man decided to make it a little bit harder. He broke one piece of the bread, but instead of soaking it into the soup, he offered it dry. Legolas immediately halted his movements and scrutinized it.
"Come on, Legolas. It's just bread. You can dip it in your soup yourself, can't you?" But Legolas refused to take it and stared at it intently. Aragorn sighed and let the bread fall into the soup. Interested, the elf looked at the savoury liquid conquering the whiteness of the loaf.
"Come, take it. It's the same as me giving you a piece. You can take it." It was no use. Curious as a child, Legolas watched the bread sinking, yet did nothing. Just before the loaf was completely wet, Aragorn fished it out of the soup and offered it his friend. Happily the elf took it. The Ranger decided to give up and finished the meal in the normal fashion. Then he put the plate upon the nightstand and rose.
"I'm going to go to the library again to see if I can find a remedy. Are you gonna be alright?" Legolas, after waiting for a moment whether there would be more bread, began staring to the wall in front of him again.
"Right, I got it. I will return this evening. Don't do anything stupid, good?" He sighed and brushed with his hand over Legolas' golden hair.
"You are my best friend, Legolas. You know that, though you may have forgotten it temporarily. I will find a cure, Legolas. I promise." The elf ignored him. Aragorn sighed once more and fled.
Dinemîn saw the human come out of the chamber of the Golden Elf. She smiled. The moon had been full that night, but when she had come to the room of the Prince, the human had been there, and she hadn't been able to do what she had intended to do. But now he was gone.
Silently, she opened the door. A surge of happiness flowed through her veins. The Golden Elf was sitting on the bed, with empty eyes. The weed worked! Quickly, she crept closer to the bed and touched his slender hand. The elf turned his head and stared at her, but didn't seem to see her. A new smile crept in her lips.
"Come, Golden One." She grasped his hand and pulled him upon his feet. Obediently, he rose and stood before her. Not relinquishing his hand, Dinemîn guided him out of the room. Not once he tried to stop. He was as tame as a lamb, following her without hesitation.
When she had reached the kitchen, she quickly pulled him behind one of the great tapestries that were decorating the walls beside the entrance to the heart of the kitchen. A little hole was hidden behind the one that depicted the arrival of the Sinda-kings, who would rule the Nandor forevermore, and of whom Thranduil was a descendant. Dinemîn tried to push the Golden Elf through the opening, but he was too dazed to realize that he had to lift his legs in order to get through it, for it was about a foot above the ground. The only thing he did, was stepping a bit closer to the wall.
Quickly, Dinemîn herself shot through the hole. Their contours were quit visible behind the tapestry for any passing elf, and she didn't want her Golden Elf to be drawn away from her by any other.
"Come, Golden One," she urged him gently. With her hands, she took his foot and pulled it through the hole, making sure the elf's body was following. Then she did the same with the other foot, so that he was safely in the small corridor.
She didn't know who made this secret passage. There were no decorations upon the walls, nor statues in the niches, as elves are wont to do. She didn't know who made this, but she was grateful for it. It was her little secret, her getaway. No one had ever been able to find her here. And they wouldn't find the Golden Elf either.
Handily, she kindled the torch that was positioned in the corner beneath the hole, and grasped the marble hand of the Golden One again.
"Come. We will go deeper and deeper. To my secret home. I will take care for you, Gliri Fileg. Tithen Fileg. We will be happy, you and I. No more orcs. No more men. No more cooks." She wrinkled her nose in disgust and pulled him forth more rapidly.
"You will like it there. I made paintings on the wall. You may see them the first. Come, Golden One." The torch disappeared in the darkness.
"Have you found anything yet?" Aragorn nearly jumped out of his chair and grabbed for his sword –that he had left in Legolas' chamber- before he realised it was Thranduil standing behind him.
"Valar, forgive me. I didn't mean to startle you! I thought you had heard me coming." Aragorn scraped his throat.
"It is me who should apologize. I was quit absorbed by this book. And in answer to your question, I fear I have not. I do have found some herbs who might slow down such a disease, but about a cure I didn't read anything."
"That is… unfortunate." His voice couldn't quit conceal his disappointment, but he let the subject drop. If he hadn't found anything, he hadn't. There was nothing they could do about it.
"So… I was just on my way to Legolas. Do you mind accompanying me?"
"Not at all, my lord. Let me put this book back." Hastily, the man cleaned up his table and followed the king. They had agreed Legolas shouldn't be left alone at night. He was not in a condition to ward of any danger, and there was a possibility that he would start wandering through the palace, dazed as he was. As they were walking to his room, an elf came to them with agitated the steps. Before Thranduil, he bowed respectfully, but his face was contorted in worry.
"Lhaewegi. What is it?" Wringing his hands, the elf looked up.
"My lord, it is your son."
"What? What happened to him? Speak up!"
"I… he is gone, my lord." Both Thranduil and Aragorn paled.
"No… It can not be…"
"Oh Valar, forgive me! I expressed myself poorly. I mean we cannot find him, my lord. He is not in his room." The Ranger stepped forwards.
"What do you mean? I left him there not two hours ago."
"Come with us," Thranduil interrupted, and started hurrying through the halls. He stormed through the open door. Another chambermaid was there, standing into the corner. She quickly bowed as she saw her lord. From Legolas there was no trace.
"Where is he?"
"My lord, I do not know," the maiden hastily replied. "I came her to kindle the fire in the hearth and to check if prince Legolas required anything, but when I came in, he wasn't here. Lhaewegi was in the room next to this one. I called him and asked him whether he knew where the prince was, but he didn't, and he went searching for him. I stayed here in case that lord Legolas would return."
"Thank you, Moëcam. Could you please go to the kitchen, the armory, the dining hall, every single spot within the palace and ask everyone whether they've seen Legolas? Lhaewegi, same mission, but in the Gardens. Lord Aragorn, please follow me. We are going to assemble the guards and search the forest around the palace." He turned and wanted to leave, but Aragorn didn't follow.
"My lord, I would rather stay here. Perhaps there are any clues that may lead us to him."
"It will be as you wish, Estel," Thranduil answered impatiently, and he was gone already.
That night, only few elves slept. Their love for their prince and their king drove them out of their beds. Every single spot in the palace was searched, and a great part of the nearby forest thoroughly scanned. But Legolas could not be found.
"We are there, Fileg. Come!" Dinemîn pulled the Golden Elf the last meters before she halted in her home.
They were standing in a massive hall, that could be compared with the entrance hall of Moria, both in size, as in condition. There was a lot of debris on the floor, but it was swept to the corners, where it was lying on high heaps. In the floor too, there were some cracks, and most of the pillars that had been supporting the roof, had crumbled, yet such was the craftwork of the one who made this, that the canopy hadn't collapsed.
Upon the walls, there were children's drawings, made by Dinemîn in the long hours she had hid here to escape the fuss of the kitchens. They depicted mostly flowers and trees, but in a harsh and cruel style, for most of the trees were set in fire, and many of the flowers were crumpled. Here and there, dead bodies of orcs and men and elves, filled with arrows and painted in blood, were depicted.
Upon the floor, some pillows covered the ground, forming a comfortable chair. Next to it, there were lots of trumpery, that only children would collect; flowers, a thread in purple, some glassy spheres, a doll, a wooden horse and a piece of chalk.
"Come, Golden One!" Dinemîn pulled him to a great bird's cage. It was huge, for though an elf could barely stand upright in it, there were little birds that could fill the cage. It was hanging a little bit above the ground. One who came here, could be wondering what purpose this hall had had, but Dinemîn was used to the area, and Legolas didn't really care.
"Come, get in it." Dinemîn again pushed one foot into the cage. When he didn't jump into it by himself, she gave him a hard shove, so that the elf fell , the maiden locked the door. Dazed, the elf settled himself, and remained silent. Not a word of protest passed his lips. Dinemîn smiled and went to the pillows, singing a song of nonsense.
Vogeltje, gij zijt gevangen
In een kooitje zult gij hangen.
All of a sudden, she stopped and started laughing. It was madman's laugh, filled with desire and sorrow and grief and anger. Even in his anesthetized state, Legolas shivered. Then, Dinemîn threw herself upon the pillows and started staring at the cage. Soon, she thought. When the effects of the weed would ward off, she would have him sing.
As a little singing bird.
I do hope I got the size of the english standard size 'feet' correct. The hole would be as high as the thigh of an elf.
Please review!
xXx Archiril