Chapter 9
Skulls of the dead littered the walls of the cave. Legolas' sight caught the lasting moments of their deaths. He leaned forward, his eyes catching the shapes in the shadows. He could see the shapes of men floating around and horses in the distance. He could feel their fear and anger. It seeped into his skin like the black poison of an orc arrow. Legolas inhaled to try and separate the dead's feelings and his own.
"What is it?" Gimli asked him. "What do you see?"
"I see shapes of men and of horses," he answered tightly.
"Where?" Gimli asked behind him.
Legolas ignored his question and continued, "Pale banners like shreds of cloud. Spears rise like winter-thickets through a shroud of mist." He paused as his ears picked up the settle wind moving around them. "The dead are following. They have been summoned." He quickly followed Aragorn further into the mountain where mist rose up and quickly surrounded them.
"Legolas!" He heard Gimli yell from behind.
Legolas glanced back in time to see Gimli rush up to them, but paused as the smoke rose around him.
Legolas glanced down as he felt the cool sensation of the mist rising up. It took the shape of arms. They reached for him, as if to pull him down. He waved his hands around to brush them aside. He could feel the pain of the dead keenly and he found it difficult to focus. It wasn't the only thing taking his focus. The dark, cold, and lifeless rock around him felt draining.
"Do not look down." He heard Aragorn said from somewhere ahead of him. Legolas was able to shake the pain away and focused on his voice. The darkness and coldness of the place was hard for the elf in him, but his determination was equally as strong. He walked forward, following the man in front of him.
The crackling of the skulls beneath them echoed loudly in the cavern from Gimli's loud and heavy steps. Legolas sighed in relief as soon as they reached solid ground. Aragorn and Legolas paused to wait for Gimli to catch up. As soon as he did, Aragorn didn't waste another moment before moving on.
"Come. We must not linger. We are running out of time," he said, picking up the pace. They ran down a narrowed pathway and entered a great underground hall with a large doorway.
Legolas stared the large cavern, sensing the thousands of dead soldiers. He opened his mouth to warn Aragorn, but was interrupted.
"Who enters my domain?" a voice called out.
Legolas turned to face the large stone staircase as a glowing green figure appeared. The skeletal figure wore a large crown on his head, showing his status as the king to the army, the King of the Dead. The King was missing his nose, his eyes were like white pits of hatred and weariness. He had no lips, so his teeth were bared. Thin wiry hair was seen coming out of his crowned helmet. He had a loose red cloak on, but it was translucent, just like the rest of him, and thick armor.
"One who will have your allegiance," Aragorn responded, seemingly unfazed at the sudden appearance of the ghost.
The King of the Dead seemed to sneer at him. "The dead do not suffer the living to pass."
Aragorn took a stubborn step forward and said firmly, putting as much authority into his words as he could, "You will suffer me!"
The King let out a deep laugh that echoed around the cavern. It sent a feeling of unease down Legolas' spine. There was a suddenly feeling of a presence behind him and he turned. Aragorn must have felt the same thing because he turned as well, just in time to see a translucent city appear, a city that was built by the dead. It was large and green. Dead soldiers walked in formation from the city and encircled them.
Legolas eyed the green ghosts of the dead with tense uneasiness. He tightened his grip on his bow with anticipation.
"The way is shut," the King of the Dead started to say. Legolas turned his attention back to him with his jaw tight. "It was made by those who are dad. And the dead keep it." He paused before repeating, "The way is shut." He began to approach Aragorn with determination. "Now you must die!"
Legolas quickly grabbed an arrow and shot at the King, but the arrow passed right through his head. He inwardly growled with frustration and disappointment as he took an uneasy step towards Aragorn, ready to do anything. Even if that included stepping between the blade and Aragorn if it came to it.
"I summon you to fulfill your oath," Aragorn said.
The King, still approaching, said, "None but the King of Gondor may command me!" He lifted up his sword to strike at Aragorn.
The man drew his sword quickly, just as the ghost took a swing at him. Aragorn parried the blow with the Sword of Elendil.
The King gasped. "That bind was broken!" he said in surprise.
Aragorn reached up and grabbed a tight hold on the King's neck, drawing his sword there as well. "It has been remade," he said before shoving the ghost back. Aragorn glanced around, talking to all of the army and not just the King. "Fight for us, and regain your honor. What say you?" He surveyed the silent soldiers around them. "What say you?" he questioned louder as he walked amongst them.
"You waste your time, Aragorn!" Gimli interrupted as he held up his axe. "They had no honor in life; they have none now in death."
Legolas glanced briefly down at the shorter figure but he was otherwise ignored.
"I am Isildur's heir," Aragorn continue to say. "Fight for me and I will hold your oaths fulfilled!" He faced the King again. "What say you?!"
The King of the Dead smirked before he began laughing as his army began to fade away. The King was the last to fade.
"You have my word!" Aragorn yelled out desperately. "Fight, and I will release you from this living death! What say you?" But the army had completely faded away. Even the fog beneath their feet drifted away.
"Stand, you traitors!" Gimli yelled.
Legolas eyes widened as he sensed a doom heading their way. The way the wind blew, the sudden shake of the ground, the sound of rocks rolling. Legolas glanced down as something rolled into his feet. His eyes widen as his gaze fell on the white skull. More and more skulls started to roll from the staircase. With an uneasy feeling in his heart, Legolas turned to face the structure just as it started to fall to pieces. The three of them started to slowly back away as the whole structure fell and thousands of skulls trembled out.
"Run!" Aragorn yelled before they all turned to rush towards the exit.
Legolas managed to avoid stepping on the rolling skulls as he pushed his way towards the exit. The force of the skulls, though, were almost enough to knock him down.
"Legolas!" he heard Aragorn yell over the noise of the skulls. "Run!"
They fought their way through the sea of skulls and escaped down the narrow passageway to the outside. They burst their way out of the cliff and into the sunshine. Legolas took a deep breath, enjoying the fresh air and sunshine. His soul felt lighten instantly.
Below them was a river with several black ships. On the riverbank, cities were on fire. Black smoke rose into the air. Death was in the air, a fresh death, not like that of inside the mountain.
Aragorn sank to his knees and Legolas walked over, placing a hand on the man's shoulder. Aragorn leaned sideways against Legolas' legs in defeat. Gimli stood on the man's other side, leading forward against his axe. They just stood there watching the ship slowly sail.
Legolas tensed when he heard a sound behind them. It sounded like the coming of heavy wind. All three of them turned to the mountain just as the King of the Dead appeared. The King stood before Aragorn and said, "We fight."
Legolas saw Aragorn's shoulders slump slightly in relief. "Thank you," he said. "I give my word to release you for your service."
The King of the Dead gave him a nod. "What is your first orders?"
Aragorn turned from him and nodded to the ships. "We have to stop those ships."
The King chuckled with glee. "That will not be a problem."
"Just wait for my word." Aragorn turned to Legolas and Gimli. "Come," he said as he made his way to the shoreline. "We can intercept them there." He pointed to rocky spot some ways down the river. "But we must hurry."
The sun was just peaking behind the trees, the sky was filled with colors, pink, purple, and shades of blue ranging from dark to light. Birds sang their morning songs. There was a warm breeze that whistled through the trees. It would have been quite the beautiful and peaceful morning if elves weren't climbing on their horses in battle wear.
Thranduil stared the small army of five hundred that would accompany him to the Black Gate. There weren't many, but it would have to be enough. The elves were quiet, waiting for their orders. Thranduil was in full armor for the first time since the Battle of the Five Armies. He held his bow in one hand and his other hand was touching the hilt of his sword by his side. Captain Erynion stood next to him. "I'm sorry, sire, but this is all Mirkwood could spare," he said as he gazed at the five hundred elves.
Thranduil nodded. "This is enough, Captain," he said, eyeing the small courtyard that was full of the elves waiting to leave. "It has to be." He placed his bow on his back and walked over to his white horse that stood mightily in front of the army. The good captain followed him, keeping one step behind him, as was respectful.
Captain Erynion sighed as his king gracefully got onto his horse. "Are you sure you wish to go through the Brown Lands, Hîr vuin? If you run out of food, there will be nothing. The army would arrive at the Gate tired and hungry. That is no condition to fight."
Thranduil stared forward, looking beyond the gates and into the dark woods. "It's the quickest route, Captain. We have enough supplies to see it through. It shall only take two weeks to arrive. We'll be fine."
Captain Erynion kept his face passive, but inwardly he was shaking his head. If King Thranduil was hoping to get there in two weeks' time, then he would be pushing the horses hard and fast. He didn't think the King would make it in time. However, he understood the king's anxiousness. This was the closest they ever gotten to finding the prince. Any father would be doing his best to rush to his child's side.
He glanced back at the king. "I am still willing to go with you, Hîr vuin. It would not take me long to ready myself."
Thranduil nodded, his face softening just a little as he glanced down at his loyal captain. "I know, Captain Erynion, but I want you here. You will need to defend the kingdom in my absence. I would trust no one else."
Captain Erynion reluctantly nodded. "Yes, Hîr vuin. Thank you for your confidence. I shall not fail you again."
Thranduil gave him a mystified look, but, before any more exchange of words could be spoken between them, Lólindir came up from behind Captain Erynion. "Farewell, my King. I shall faithfully watch over Mirkwood until your return," he promised.
Thranduil nodded. "I know, Lólindir. I shall not be gone too long and when I return, it shall be with my son." His son, Legolas. He was so close to holding his son in his arms once again. So close to bringing his son home. He the last time he had felt so energized Legolas was being born. He stared at the path leading into the forest. Hopefully, it's the path that would take him to his son. He glanced back at the army, patiently waiting with his face expressionless. "Move out!" he yelled before urging his horse forward.
Captain Erynion and Lólindir stepped back to watch the small army disappear into the forest. Captain Erynion shook his head. "I don't feel right letting him go without me."
"I wouldn't feel right if both of you left," Lólindir said. "I have the same uneasy feeling concerning the lack of attacks from the orcs lately. I'm glad to have a military leader watching for the kingdom and I know King Thranduil feels the same way, which is why he wouldn't let you go with him."
Captain Erynion didn't respond. "You think Prince Legolas would be there?"
Lólindir kept his eye on the retreating army as he answered. "He has to be." He turned to Captain Erynion. "King Thranduil has very high hopes of finally being reunited with his son. I don't think he can go through such a disappointment if his son isn't there." He turned back to army, watching as the last of them left the kingdom's gate. "He would lose hope of ever returning his son to his side. He would fade."
"If he fades, Mirkwood is over," Captain Erynion predicted. "There will be no heir to take his place."
Lólindir nodded. "If he fades, I shall lead the people to the shore. The age of the elves are ending anyhow."
Captain Erynion shook his head. "Let's not speak of such things. The king will be fine. He will return with Prince Legolas. Let's not loosen our grip on hope." If only he was able to go with them. He still felt it as his responsibility to make sure Legolas returned home.
Lólindir nodded in agreement before turning and entering the palace.
Night was falling and there was a breeze in the air. The rocking of the ship had a calming effect to the elf on board. He didn't much care for going through the mountain and, at the moment, was enjoying the outside air instead of going below deck. He leaned against the railing and watched the waves. The wind blew across his face like a lovers caress. He closed his eyes to enjoy the feel of the wind and the smell of the earth.
Legolas opened his eyes when he heard the quiet footsteps of Aragorn coming from behind him. He glanced over when the man came up next to him, leaning against the railing as well.
"We'll get there late tomorrow," Aragorn said.
Legolas nodded and they relapsed into companionable silence. He stood next to Aragorn and just watched the sun sink lower in the sky, watching the yellow, red, blue, and pink slowly turn into a darker blue. He turned to Aragorn. "You told me you were raised in Rivendell, but you failed to mention Lord Elrond was the one who raised you. It makes sense, however, that Lord Elrond raised you, with your heritage."
Aragorn turned his body to face Legolas, using his elbow to rest against the railing. "How did you acquire such knowledge?" Neither confirming nor denying Legolas' statement.
"Lord Elrond called you his son when I was speaking to him."
Aragorn nodded, finally confirming. "He raised me from the time I was a young boy of three. My father died and my mother went to Lord Elrond to protect me. She died on the way. Orcs."
Legolas bowed in head in respect. "I'm sorry for you loss."
"As am I for yours," Aragorn returned.
Legolas turned back to the river. "There might not be anyone waiting for me in Mirkwood."
Aragorn sighed. "We talked about this, Legolas. Don't assume the worse."
Legolas shook his head. "I'm not, but even you can't deny the high possibility that anyone in my family is still there, waiting for me. They've either faded or crossed the sea. I was a young elfing. I've been lost for two thousand years. I knew nothing of the outside world. I don't believe they would think I still live. To them, I would be dead. Losing an elfing that young would cause anyone a large amount of grief. To find peace they would have crossed the sea or faded away from the grief. It is also Mirkwood we are speaking about. Its forest is littered with foul, ghastly creatures. Death, I imagine, is not that uncommon there." This was the first time he had entertain this idea of his family thinking he was dead and not the other way around. "I still wonder how such a young elfing could live to adulthood outside of his home. I knew nothing of this land, not when I was that young."
Aragorn placed a hand on his shoulder and gave a comforting squeeze. "We will discover the truth together, Legolas. Just be patient."
Legolas smirked in amusement. "A man telling an elf to be patient?"
Aragorn took his head off his shoulder and chuckled. "Haven't you noticed how contradictory we are? I wish not to be who I am, you want to find who you are. I, a man, raised by elves and you, an elf, raised by man."
Legolas laughed. "I had not realized that before. That is quite…" he paused to think of a word to use, "…humorous."
Still chuckling, Aragorn said, "We should get some rest." He turned and head back down deck to sleep.
Legolas nodded in argument, but he didn't follow Aragorn below deck. He had set up a sleeping area by the helms, wishing to sleep in the open air. But thoughts of his unknown family were never far from his mind.
The next day found Legolas sitting on a barrel working on sharpening the tips of his arrows and counting them. He hoped he would have enough for the battle ahead. Gimli was working on sharpening his axe right beside him, talking about his father. Legolas was only half listening.
"…said it was the grandest adventure he has ever had. Not because it was difficult and challenging, but because it was to reclaim our home. Since then, we dwarves try to avoid the Elvenking. Not because we are afraid, mind you, but because we really don't like him. It's understandable and all, with him putting them to the dungeons without right cause. That pointy-eared, greedy, selfish…"
Legolas sighed through Gimli's list of insults and turned to him. "You do realize that you may be insulting my king, do you not?"
Gimli grumbled. "I am telling ya as it is. I pity you if he is your king. You should move to Lothlórien." He smiled. "Now that is a place to be."
Legolas shook his head in amusement. "Don't have I some obligation to defend my king?"
Gimli shook his head. "For all we know you ran away from Mirkwood to get away from his rule."
"I very much doubt that, my friend. I was much too young to know, understand, or even care about politics." He turned back to his arrows and continued to sharpen them.
"Well, take it from me, Legolas. King Thranduil is an egoistic…"
"I'm surprise you even know what that means," Legolas interrupted quietly, feeling very amused when Gimli continued to insult the king as if he didn't hear the elf's mutter.
"…greedy, careless, the most headstrong and stupid…"
"Gimli," Aragorn's voice called out. Both of them looked up and saw the man give Gimli a careful look. He walked over to them and sat on a barrel beside Legolas. "Gimli happens to be very bias when it comes to elves, the Elvenking and Mirkwood elves in particular."
Legolas lips twitched in amusement. "I can see."
Aragorn's eyes sparkled to show his own amusement while Gimli grumbled again in annoyance. "The Elvenking isn't like that," Aragorn continued. "Yes, he is a proud king, but he is extremely protective of his kingdom. One has to be with the threat of darkness consistently on his doorstep. You would be lucky to have him as your ruler. He is just, careful and harsh as it could be, but just in his sentences. Although," he said before Gimli could interrupt, "when it comes to dwarves, it is harder to see the line. He has little patience for them, as they have for him."
Legolas turned back to Gimli. "Worry not, my young friend. I doubt I will have much contact with the egoistic king," he said with his eyes sparkling with enjoyment. It had been such a long time since he had friends to talk to. It was a wonderful change from what he was used to. In the beginning he had feared he wouldn't fit into the little group, but now he found himself jousting with them and enjoying himself immensely.
"Well, good, lad. Can't have him corrupt you," Gimli said, keeping up with the humor.
"Yes, we can't have the Elvenking corrupt me, the only thing worst then that would be a dwarf corrupting me, wouldn't it?" Legolas joked.
"Hump!" Gimli grumbled as he glared at the elf.
Legolas and Aragorn chuckled.
"We'll see who corrupts who at the battle," Gimli challenged. "Don't forget to keep count this time."
Legolas shook his head. "What is with the counting, my short, stoutly friend?"
Gimli shrugged his shoulders. "It makes it more fun and interesting."
"You might as well humor him, Legolas," Aragorn interrupted. "He'll keep count anyways and we will forever hear of his deeds in battle," he joked.
Legolas suddenly frowned and picked up his head at a distant sound.
"What is it, Legolas?" Aragorn questioned seriously, the good mood evaporating quickly.
"The sound of battle," Legolas said, his ears picking up the clash of swords and the screams of the dying. He could almost taste the spilt blood in the air.
The King of the Dead appeared before them. "We will be there very shortly."
Aragorn nodded. "We should get into position." The King of the Dead nodded and disappeared again. Aragorn turned to them. "Are you ready?" he asked.
Legolas placed his newly sharped arrows back into his quiver and nodded.
"Aye, laddie. We're ready," Gimli said, his hand tightening his grip on his axe in anticipation.
It wasn't long before the other two could hear the sound of the bloody battle.
Today is my birthday, so I had to make sure I updated! Did you all like that last scene? I sure enjoyed writing it! Please Review!