DISCLAIMER: Everything belongs to the professor. I'm just borrowing the characters, without permission but with every intention of giving them back safely.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This was also a slightly difficult chapter to write… I hope you like it! Feedback and criticism welcome.
Thanks to OnCeInABlUeMoOn14, Firefly-Maj, Lady Ambreanna, ProRodeoCowgirl, Calenlass Greenleaf1, triolet and Lathspel for the wonderful reviews! Keep them coming. :)
And now on with the story!
CHAPTER 10: Revelations
Legolas stared at the dark-haired elf before him in a mixture of shock and horror, scarcely noticing when Eredhion was pulled away from him and his hands were tied.
"Bregolien," he hissed.
"Yes, my little prince," the elf said quietly. "I am glad you remember me. Did I not tell you that I would return for my vengeance no matter how long it took? Did you allow yourself to forget that? I do not forgive wrongs."
"You do not forgive?" Legolas growled. "You are a murderer and a traitor to your realm and your King and you dare stand before me and –"
"Silence!" The elf regarded him calmly. "This I swear, Thranduilion: I will make you beg for death so that I may have the pleasure of denying it. I will make you beg in the very presence of your father the King, and he will know such grief and helplessness as I once did. You will not bear yourself so proudly for long, my prince." He took Legolas by the shoulder and drew him forward. "Come, I want to show you something."
Legolas stumbled a little as he followed. They walked for several minutes; Bregolien was leading them away from the others. The elf prince wondered briefly if he should attempt to overpower him and then go back and free Eredhion, but decided against it. There would be better opportunities.
He shivered slightly. There was something unnervingly silent about the woods through which Bregolien was taking him. It seemed as though the trees were not even communicating with each other… as though they were afraid…
"Look," Bregolien said suddenly, gesturing with his free hand. Legolas looked, and gasped in horror.
They were in a clearing – but it was not a natural clearing. The trees had been hacked down and the forest burned; blackened stumps protruded from the ground and the earth was covered with grey ash. Legolas felt his stomach turn.
"Do you like my handiwork?" his captor asked lightly.
"You are one of the Eldar," Legolas breathed. "And you were once a warrior of the woodland realm. How could you do this?"
"Very easily, when it came to it." Bregolien smiled. "And it was also easy – so easy, Legolas – to suppress the voices of the surrounding trees enough that there was no chance of word reaching your father's halls. I had some help, of course."
"But why?"
"I do believe you are shocked, little elf. Part of the reason – a very large part of the reason – was to be able to see this look on your face. You have not disappointed me. The rest… Well, I needed the wood, and I also wanted to know what effect it would have on the mind of an elf, to see this destruction being carried out before his eyes but be powerless to stop it."
Legolas' heart lurched.
"What do you –"
"Do you remember those warriors who went missing some two or three years ago, elfling? You thought they had been killed by orcs, I suppose – and, in the end, they were killed by orcs – but they begged for it first."
"You are lost," Legolas whispered.
"No, elfling, you are lost. You, and any who try to rescue you. My master has plans."
"Since when do you serve anybody other than yourself?"
"Since I met somebody who could command my respect," Bregolien said quietly.
Legolas frowned, and then shuddered as he realized the truth. "The Necromancer – you serve Sauron! Are you mad?"
"Entirely sane, I assure you. He promised me my revenge, in exchange for such aid as one of the Firstborn could give him. And when his time comes – as will happen very soon, elfling – I will have further rewards."
"You were always a fool, Bregolien, but have you completely lost your mind? You know the Deceiver has no honour or loyalty. He will kill you once you have served your purpose."
"Sedho!"
"You do know this," Legolas said. "And you have thought of this –"
Bregolien hit him. "I told you to be silent."
"And you are terrified of the day you cease to be useful, that is why you cannot bear to hear me speak of it. Did you want revenge so badly that you were willing to sacrifice everything for it?"
Bregolien seized Legolas' shoulders, his fingers painfully tight on the injury from the scimitar.
"You do not know anything, prince. Surely even one as young as you has heard of what Morgoth did to the elves who crossed his path." He waited for Legolas' eyes to widen. "Yes, you do know. My master plans worse – far worse – for those who oppose him. And you will be the first… Unless of course somebody comes here in search of you – they they can go first."
"That was a remarkably quick recovery," Glorfindel said, watching Elladan trying out his leg. "Elrond would be proud of you, Calathiel."
The elleth laughed.
"I have to manage the most difficult patient in all of Arda, do I not? With Legolas it is either a quick remedy or no remedy." She shook her head. "There is a custom among the healers of Eryn Lasgalen – an initiation rite, if you will. When Legolas returns from a patrol with an injury, if it is not life-threatening, the task of tending to him is given to whichever elf finished healers' training most recently. It is good preparation for what lies ahead."
"I imagine your first time was interesting."
"Interesting is not the word I would choose. I was out of the room for less than half a minute to get some herbs I needed, and when I returned he was gone."
Glorfindel chuckled.
"I think Elrond would relate to that."
Calathiel smiled, before casting a forbidding look in Elrohir's direction. "I had better not see you trying to leave the palace, Elrondion."
"Would I ever?" Elrohir asked, looking aggrieved. "It's all Elladan's fault –"
"Ro!"
"Anyway, I know we can't leave just yet, so we'll stay in the palace today, and tomorrow morning we will –"
"Still be here," Calathiel said firmly. "Estel, I charge you to see to it. These two are not to leave under any circumstances unless you, personally, have heard me give them leave."
Eredhion looked around him even as he twisted his hands in what he knew would be a futile attempt to free himself. There were orcs, but he had not been a warrior of Eryn Lasgalen for over two thousand years without being able to deal with a few orcs. There were men, though, and they might be harder to handle.
He hoped Legolas' wound was not poisoned. In itself it was probably a painful injury, but as long as it did not become infected – and perhaps even if it did – it would not prevent Legolas from fighting if he knew anything of his prince. He looked around again. They had not been expecting the men, and so they had been caught unawares, but so long as Legolas was fit to fight they would be able to get away.
Bregolien and Legolas came back then. The dark-haired elf looked smugly pleased with himself, but Legolas was disturbingly pale.
At their captor's orders, a pair of orcs hauled Legolas over, forced him to the ground next to Eredhion, and tied his hands to a low-hanging branch. Legolas did not even look at them; he was glaring with a ferocity that was terrifying.
"Mellon nîn, what is it?"
Legolas turned to him.
"His soul is utterly lost. He has joined Sauron – but that is not the worst of it."
Eredhion listened with growing horror as Legolas recounted what had occurred between him and Bregolien.
"We cannot allow this," he breathed. "The very thought is repellent. Legolas, we must do something! We have to stop him."
"I know," the prince said. "We will stop him. He has grown overconfident, and that may work in our favour. We need to escape – and get a warning to the palace, but I do not see how."
"The trees?"
"That will do no good. We will have to tell them what has happened, and if ada finds out he will not be heeding warnings, he will be riding here on the fastest horse he can find, and if Bregolien catches him…"
"Eryn Lasgalen will crumble," finished Eredhion. "But it will not be much better if something happens to you, elfling."
Legolas grinned at him.
"We will get out of this. Somehow."
Eredhion grunted, even as Legolas tried to get his palms flat against the branch. It took a few seconds, but he managed it.
The tree responded at once. Elfling! Your father asks for news of you.
Tell him I am well.
Well, indeed! I refuse to utter such outright lies! When the King finds out about this foul creature and his plans he will –
Mellon nîn, saes… My father must not hear of this.
You need help, the tree chided. You cannot do everything by yourself. Let me send word to your stronghold and ask that warriors be sent –
No! Bregolien knows these lands as well as I do, perhaps better; he will be on them before they even know where they are. We will escape, I promise you that – I have no intention of letting him corrupt me as he plans.
Can we help?
Yes… We will need a distraction. Not yet, mellon nîn. We will signal when we do. I do not know how you will do it, but if you can somehow draw their attention off for a few moments…
We will do it, elfling. Tell us when you are ready.
"I do not like this," Rochendilwen said quietly, pulling away from the tree. "It is not as it was before – the trees are hiding something."
"But they cannot be aiding Bregolien," Aeroniel protested, and blushed when Rochendilwen nearly flinched at the sound of the name. "Forgive me, I know this must be difficult for you –"
Rochendilwen waved away the apology.
"You can hardly avoid saying his name now. Besides, I don't think they are aiding Bregolien – they are aiding Legolas. Something has happened to him, and for some reason he does not want us to know."
Aeroniel groaned.
"I knew this would happen." She bit her lip. "We had better tell the King, although I do not know what even he can do about it. It will do no good to send the archers – curse the elfling! I was never very good at this leading the archers business and he knows it! He still has the audacity to disappear and leave me to handle everything!"
"Clearly, you will make him regret it," Rochendilwen said, looking amused.
"Regret? He will know regret." Aeroniel began to walk towards the palace. "He will know such regret as he has never known before. When I get my hands on him…"
Rochendilwen followed. She did not feel nearly as confident as Aeroniel.
Help me, mellon nîn, Legolas murmured to the tree. I need to get free.
The branch to which his hands had been tied bowed a little; it was barely perceptible and the orcs would not have noticed, but it gave Legolas just enough slack to slide his hands down the branch to where it was far narrower. He shot a glance in the direction of Bregolien, and carefully tested the rope around his wrists.
It had even more slack now – but Legolas did not dare try to free himself with Bregolien nearby; the elf was certain to notice.
He looked around for his bow and knives, and saw that someone – one of the orcs, presumably – had dumped the elves' weapons in a heap a few yards away. Bregolien had not noticed; he had not seen Legolas and Eredhion for millennia, and he probably assumed they were still the young and slightly clumsy warriors they had been at their last encounter. That could work in their favour.
Legolas risked the merest glance at Eredhion. His friend gave a barely-perceptible nod. There would never be a better opportunity; they were both relatively unhurt and if they were going to escape it had to be now.
Distract him, mellon nîn, Legolas asked the tree. Draw him off.
Certainly, elfling. Good luck.
Suddenly, trees around the glade were swaying and creaking as though in a high wind. Bregolien looked up and cursed loudly in Sindarin.
"Are you trying to get word to your father? It will do you no good at all." Legolas did not answer, and the creaking of the trees intensified. Over it Legolas could hear the faint murmuring sound of the trees talking to each other. Bregolien got to his feet with a snarl. "I am going to find out what it is, and for your own sake you had best hope that it cannot be laid to your charge."
The elf stalked away, a couple of orcs following him.
"Hurry," Legolas said as soon as he had gone, twisting his hands behind him and managing to pull his wrists free. He glanced at Eredhion and saw that his friend had done the same.
They got to their feet in the same instant, diving for their weapons, rolling and coming up standing back-to-back in the centre of the glade before the orcs and men quite knew what was happening. When they did realize, they attacked the elves furiously.
Legolas had managed to get off a few arrows in the time their captors stood gaping. Now he slid his bow into its sheath and switched to knives, fighting more furiously than he had ever done in his life. If they did not get away now, there would be no second chance – Bregolien would not be so careless again.
Elladan stood at the gates of the stronghold, looking out into the night.
"Something is happening," he said softly. "The trees are restive. What do they say, my King?"
Thranduil shrugged.
"I cannot tell. I only hope…"
"Legolas will be fine, aran nîn," Elrohir said, just as softly as his twin. "I promise you that. The Valar would allow nothing else."
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