Chapter 11
Pain.
It shot him wide awake and he gave low groan. His head was heavy against his pillow and he twisted to his side.
"Thranduil!"
"Father…"
Another stabbing pain shot through his skull and he gripped the sheets in his fists.
"Thranduil, calm down. You are safe."
"He is in pain." The feminine voice he recognized as his wife's. Fingers pulled back his hair and more fingers massaged his exposed temple. The pain ceased before beginning anew and this time his voice was twisted in agony. He pushed Arodien's fingers away, not knowing if he would harm her in this state. He did not know how long it was until the pain lessened considerably but it was the length of it that made it unbearable. He felt like he was trapped in a circle of never-ending agony. His
"He can't take it-"
"Somebody get Jimmy."
He felt the familiar prick of a needle on his arm accompanied by the burning sensation there. The pain diminished, but he did not fall asleep like he usually did. Instead he was stuck between sleep and wakefulness. His mind was hazy. He tried to move but he couldn't. The drug had worked on his body but not his mind.
Finally, he managed to pull himself up a bit. Arms propped him up in a sitting position and his head fell forward as nausea returned. He retched, but nothing except bile came out. His stomach still roiled but it was empty. He wearily sagged against his father's chest. Oropher gently laid him back on something soft and he suspected he was being placed back on the bed. The taste in his mouth was terrible though, and he resisted.
"Water…" He whispered. Soon enough, a cold glass was pressed against his lips. He took a few small sips before turning his head away. He rolled but met something warm. It was evident someone else came into the bed with him. From the calm voice speaking to him, it was his father. But he could not focus on it. He threw open his eyes in wild panic.
"Thranduil, calm down!"
"Get it away from me!"
"Get it? What's it?" Oropher held him down.
Something was leeching off his mind. He could feel it, like a maggot worming deep inside him. The feeling was unpleasant.
"Something is attacking him…"
"How can it be possible?"
"Húro is bringing attention to itself…"
He opened his eyes blearily, the light mercifully dim. He saw dim figures standing at the edge of his bed. Caranthir's face was thrown in a sharp relief, while other's faces were considerably soft in the light.
"He is not going to like this…" Caranthir's voice woke him. Then his eyes fluttered close.
His eyes opened wide when another shot of pain went right through him.
~Leave him be!~ Caranthir's command vibrated through his mind. But that was all that happened before silence fell.
"It is no use…"
"Are you sure?"
"Whatever it is... so powerful…"
"Thranduil…."
His mind sharpened slightly when he heard the familiar feminine voice. He could not place it. H heard the voice again, but this time he heard it in his mind.
~The darkness does not suit you, son of Oropher.~
The voice was tender, caring like a mother's. It soothed his fears, and he tried to seek it out. That voice, however, distant, meant safety. He felt a cool hand brush over his skin, resting on top of his head. Something, however, was keeping him from seeking it. That thing- that leech- was holding on to him.
~This is not your place. BEGONE!~ that same, soft feminine voice became as hard and as cold as tempered steel. It was cutting like a knife. He felt a jolt of pain through his skull before receding. Now there was no pain, no unpleasantness. He was so tired. The hand resting on his head lifted and he felt nothing but air. Fighting hard to open his eyes, he finally did. He saw Caranthir standing over him, talking to someone else. His black hair was free except for the two braids framing either side of his face. His light blue shirt bore the emblem of Fëanor. With each weary blink of his eyes, his sight was becoming more and more blurry. The Elleth standing across was tall, lean with hair a splendid blend of gold and silver. Her face was obscured. Suddenly she turned to him.
"Go to sleep, son of Oropher."
"Artanis…" he murmured but his eyes closed and he knew no more.
oOo
Harbour,
Tol Antanë,
Pacific Ocean,
It was the sound of water dripping and a cool, wet cloth pressed against his forehead that greeted him when he came to. He did not open his eyes, but he could see the light behind his eyelids. When he finally opened his eyes, he saw his father with his back turned to him, golden hair with a slight silver hue shining in the light.
"You are awake," Oropher said, turning to him and leaning against the table he was working on with his hips. He crossed his arms. "The change of breathing betrayed you."
"What happened?" He tried to get up and found that he couldn't. His arms and legs felt leaden. Just then he felt his headache return to him and he squeezed his eyes shut against the suddenly bright light. Oropher took the hint and immediately removed the cloth from his forehead.
"Well, in Jimmy's words, you went 'super nova'." Oropher said, briskly twisting the cloth and wringing out most of the water before settling the cloth on his forehead. Thranduil sighed in relief at the feel of it, this time much colder.
"Was it really that bad?"
"I do not know. But Maedhros was shaken and pale-faced when we came to find you both. He had caught you when you fell unconscious."
"Where did he go?"
"I don't know. As soon as he gave you to us, he turned on his heel and left. I haven't seen him since. I think you scared him off." Oropher added the last bit, his voice humorous.
"What do you think about the Noldor?" The headache had lessened, and he found the dim light in the room bearable. He sat up carefully, the muscles of his back groaning from the lack of use. He turned to his father. He valued his father's thoughts, which were usually more consistent than his own back in his youth.
"Well, I think they are well-established here, dangerous as ever, but with no madness in them." Oropher said, sitting down on the edge of the bed and looking at his son. "I think they can be trusted."
Thranduil removed the cloth from his forehead and folded it, smirking. "That is certainly saying something."
"I know. And this admission costs me most of my pride, so try not to rub it in." Oropher turned his back to him, rearranging the medicine on the table pushed against a wall. Thranduil stared at it with open distaste. The room looked like an invalid's room. He looked down at the floor where he had set his feet and carefully tried to get up.
"Anyway, I do not think that- Thranduil you foolish boy, what in Arda are you doing?" Oropher barked, immediately grabbing his son by the elbow before he fell forward.
"How long have I been like this?" Thranduil said, placing his arm around his father's waist for support.
"You have been out for a week."
"And my wife and son?"
"Arodien is with Celeborn and Galadriel-"
"Celeborn? Galadriel?" Thranduil asked, becoming more and more bewildered. "What happened while I was out?"
"A lot, and I would tell you if you stop misbehaving!" Oropher scolded him. Steering him back to his bed, Oropher dropped his son on the soft surface and forced him to sit back against the pillows. "Now stay put!"
Once he was sure Thranduil would not start squirming in restlessness, Oropher continued.
"We got you here soon after you lost unconsciousness. At the time you slept without any trouble and then suddenly you started thrashing everywhere. We thought at first it was Húro but then we realized it was something else."
"Some kind of force," Thranduil murmured. He rubbed his forehead, "An invader."
"Yes. You were too weak. And Caranthir suspected whoever it was, was much more experienced than you. You could not have defended yourself even if you had the chance."
"Caranthir was talked to me." Thranduil said, now starting to remember bits of it. "I remember."
"That was what happened. But you were simply not ready. You took on a great risk, trying to use Húro when you have obviously not tried something like it. You said Húro could be controlled by the peak of a storm. How goes the Ring?"
Thranduil looked down at the Ring adorning his left hand. Húro's gems glittered up at him. The mithril band did not tarnish, nor did it show any signs of wear. And yet he felt calm. Húro was still very dangerous, but it was less eager, more… content. And he felt like he could understand it.
"I feel better." Thranduil said, pausing before adding, "Much better."
Oropher pondered for a while. Then he extended his hand.
"May I see it?"
Thranduil moved to take it off but suddenly felt very reluctant to do so.
"Let us leave it for a while," Thranduil said, feeling unsettled by the new feeling. Oropher's brows snapped together in a frown but he thankfully said nothing and dropped his hand to his side. "So what else happened? What is this about Celeborn and Galadriel?"
"The ships that were due to arrive carried them here."
"Wait, wait," Thranduil rubbed his temples. "You mean to tell me that Celeborn and Galadriel came here? To this very harbour? On this island? What was Galadriel's reaction?"
"I was too busy tending you to see or ask." Oropher admitted. "Though from what I hear, it was splendid but not as outrageous as the Fëanorians had feared."
"Humph, pity, but there might be more luck when Elrond meets them!"
"I kind of hope he would not. Anyway, it was Galadriel's help that finally saved you. You have brought too much attention to yourself by using Húro. The winds are shifting and a change is coming. Some of the Maia that have allied themselves to the Enemy were attacking you."
"I was trained to defend myself under such attacks-"
"It isn't enough." Oropher said, shaking his head. "You need to learn, Thranduil. You have to get stronger both in body and in mind. You do not know how dangerous this was for you."
"I can guess," Thranduil murmured.
"We had become afraid. This might have taken a turn for the worst if Galadriel had not come."
"Fine, I will train." Thranduil rubbed his face with a hand. "Is there anything else?"
Oropher opened his mouth to speak but just then a loud rumble echoed across the room. Thranduil's face coloured into a deep shade of red while Oropher chuckled.
"Yes. You need to eat. And eat slowly. You will be eating after nearly a week, so the food might have trouble staying down." In spite of Oropher's fears, Thranduil was ravenous. It was all he could do not to wolf down the meal set for him.
"You might as well get something more fulfilling than broth," Thranduil complained after clearing out his tray.
"I thought you might say that." Oropher said, producing another tray. "This is mine, but I left it because I knew you would be hungry. And once you have taken your fill, you are going to have a bath." It was then he realized the shirt he was wearing was sodden with sweat. They had obviously worried not moving him too much when he finally fell in a dreamless slumber.
He had to be helped into the bath by his father but he managed to get out on his own. Oropher was right. The weakness mostly came from the lack of use of his limbs and the lack of food. He managed to dress himself and once he was ready Oropher led him out by taking his arm. As soon as they left the rooms, Thranduil managed to wrestle his arm free.
"Stubborn elfling," Oropher muttered.
"We all share that one trait." Thranduil said, making Oropher smile. The corridors were mostly deserted, and Thranduil expected most of the people went out to help in the reconstruction. It wasn't until he looked out of a passing window that he realized the extent of damage.
The harbour was a disaster.
He could see torn down buildings that looked like paper houses ripped off by a cruel hand. Debris was gathered into heaps by the side of the road. Some of the ships had gone under and they had lost lives as well, Oropher had told him.
"But it is nothing as drastic as it could have been had you not saved the harbour." Oropher said, resting a hand on Thranduil's back. "I did not think Húro had that kind of power."
"Neither did I," Thranduil said. "At least, I suspected but not expected it to be this much."
"Well, you know the cost of such power. Try not to use it again to this point until it is absolutely necessary."
Thranduil thought about using it on a battlefield, and falling unconscious, unarmed. It would be a death sentence.
"I don't think I ever will."
"Don't start making promises you can't keep." Oropher patted him on the back. "Come on, I have already told them you are awake and they sent word they wanted to meet us in one of the chambers."
The council chamber was round, with vaulted ceiling of alternating white and navy blue. Caranthir was sitting with a laptop on the table, immersed into his work. Maglor and Maedhros were discussing something in low tones, and Glorfindel was sitting alone, lost in thought. All of them looked up when they heard Oropher and Thranduil come in.
"Ah," Maglor said, straightening and facing them. "So here is the saviour of the city. How do you feel?"
"Like I have been run over," Thranduil answered. Maglor gave a small smile.
"From what Caranthir tells me, you should be feeling more than simply run over."
Thranduil just smiled in return. He sat down and said nothing.
"So I hear a lot of things happened in one week I decided to go unconscious." Thranduil said.
"Well, yes." Maglor said. "We have both Celeborn and Galadriel here."
"It would have been more fun if Elrond was here too." Glorfindel interjected. Maglor winced.
"I would rather not." Maglor muttered.
"What was Galadriel's reaction?"
"She suspected the Valar had hidden something like this from the rest of Aman. She just did not expect to what extent."
"And where is she?"
"Looking about," Caranthir spoke up. Even his darker, reddish complexion seemed to suit him. If he were to cut his hair short to his shoulders, he would have passed off as a handsome young man in this modern age. Caranthir's face was carefully expressionless, and it looked like he wore a plastic mask to hide his true emotions. Thranduil did not know what to make of him. Celegorm had, however, told him that Caranthir was the most reclusive of his brothers. In a way, Caranthir now feared his own temper to take control of him, turning the tides for the worst. So he kept by the Sea, and did the ferrying for his brothers and his people. "I suspect she wants to see how far we have gone in all the years of hiding."
"And what about the rest of the ships?"
"Oh, they bring you your city planners, stone masons, farmers, smiths and the rest. The next ships will be bringing the ones who had been in your army." Maglor smiled. "You have everything to ready a city, except a place to make a city in. Amrod took the liberty to speak to the Dwarven King at Mirny Undergrounds. They are willing to help."
"I have missed a lot." Thranduil said, rubbing the back of his neck. "And Haldir?"
"There is no word from Amras." Maglor responded. "He is still stable, but under treatment, as far as we know."
"Do Celeborn and Galadriel know?"
"I do not think so. They only arrived three days ago."
He had slept without any disturbances for the last three days, Thranduil thought, shaking his head internally.
"Well if you have planned everything then why am I here?" Thranduil asked.
"There isn't much to do until Maedhros arrives." Maglor said, sitting on the table facing Thranduil. "And we are speaking here because these are the few rooms we are utterly sure will not be overheard." Thranduil raised his brows at that.
"You expect rebellion among your own people?"
"We prefer to be safe rather than sorry." Maglor said. "I do not think any of us can afford letting the Enemy have any information on us just yet."
"Where is Maedhros?"
"I do not know." Maglor said. Thranduil gave him a look of disbelief. "I swear," the Fëanorian protested. "When we brought you back, he went to the kitchens and gathered nearly a week's supplies and left. We haven't heard from him since."
"He will be back." Caranthir said indifferently. "He always does."
"So what do we do then?"
"We wait." Maglor said. "You should go. Consider having a normal few hours before my brother appears."
"Define normal," Thranduil muttered. Turning to his father he asked, "Where is Arodien?"
"She is with Celeborn at the moment."
oOo
Palace,
Tol Antanë,
Pacific Ocean,
Arodien and Celeborn were sitting across each other in the parlour. Both of them were silent. The only sounds came from the canaries that were singing sweet songs. They were not in cages, but instead sat freely wherever they wished. Silence stretched out until it became uncomfortable.
"My lady, you have asked for me. May I ask why?"
She finally stirred, placing her coffee mug on the table.
"Yes, I did. I apologize for being rude without explaining why." She trailed off, wondering where to begin. "I wanted to ask…you and Lady Galadriel and Nenya…"
"Ah, I see." Celeborn nodded in understanding.
Celeborn sat back in his chair, his temple resting on his hand as he regarded her closely.
"It is a lot of giving," Celeborn said finally. "When Galadriel took the Nenya, I remember I had to be very giving. Your relationship changes, this I will not lie, my lady. And it will never remain constant for as long as your husband hold the Ring of Power."
"And if he were… to discard it?"
A ghost of a smile appeared on Celeborn's lips. "You and I both know that Thranduil protects his own. And he will do whatever it takes to protect his own. As far as I remember, he never cared much of his health when he became king." Arodien remembered Thorontur's constant complaints and agreed it was true. Celeborn nodded. "I do not think he will try to remove the Ring of Power, but even if he tries, he will not be able t. When Galadriel first noticed that Nenya was starting to fill her with Sea-longing, she tried once to remove the Ring. But her fëa had become too used to her Ring, and will not suffer to be without it."
"What happened then?"
"Oh, she took Nenya again on her hand. But what I mean is that you cannot blame your husband for changing. The Rings of Power are… unnatural. This Thranduil knew. None of the Rings have come into being without harming their bearers. Frodo was an example. Galadriel herself is also an example. Mithrandir as well. What Thranduil did not know, or perhaps did not guess, is that the fëa of the bearer must adapt to its Ring, in order to find some normalcy in their companionship. Frodo used to say that the Ring, even while he did not wear it, made his hearing and sight sharper. So the changes in Thranduil are only a transition."
"To what end?" Arodien asked softly. She knew the lore of the Rings. The Ringwraiths became twisted, when Sauron used their Rings to claim them. Not all Rings were good in nature.
"To a better end, hopefully," Celeborn said. Then he reached forward and placed a comforting hand on hers. "My lady, I know you have fears for this. And I understand them, having seen Galadriel return with Nenya. But I will tell you here and now that the things are now in motion. Thranduil is not one to take decisions lightly, even if he wore Húro under duress of the conditions. Celebrimbor crafted Húro under the Valar's intense scrutiny. He had done it after many plans of improvement. Húro will be better than its ancestors, I am sure."
"Thranduil has changed greatly. I do not think he realizes it."
"Most bearers do not until they are fully changed." Celeborn paused, wondering if he should continue. Then he started with slight hesitation, "My lady, I have heard… rumours of you in the Keep. It is said there were distinct bruises about your neck."
Arodien unconsciously raised her fingers, brushing them against her throat.
"It was nothing."
"What happened?" Celeborn was not fooled. Not that she tried to deny it.
"Thranduil was asleep. So was I. And then I wake up with lack of air and I find him," Arodien swallowed reflexively. "Like I said, it is nothing."
"Thranduil loves you greatly. He would never do such a thing if he were in the right mind. It should pass. Nevertheless, I think it would be best if you slept apart for some time."
"No," Arodien's words were firm. "My husband is encased in foresight while he sleeps, some of them very painful. I will stay."
"I do not think that would be wise." Celeborn tried to persuade her.
"And would you have done the same if it were your wife?"
Celeborn gave her a small smile.
"No, I would not."
"Then you cannot ask me to do otherwise."
This time Celeborn smiled widely. Arodien, with her chin tilted upwards, the look on her face regal and calm made her look not like the young bride for Thranduil but like a true queen. He patted her hand.
"Often the bearers of Rings are told in tales and ballads and the ones who supported them go unsung." Celeborn said, leaning back and straightening in his chair. "I should know, for you will not see much mention of me in the old tales except as Galadriel's husband."
"And there is no mention of my name," Arodien said dryly.
"But if you continue to support him, he will know. Thranduil never forgets."
That did not comfort Arodien. Not even a little.
oOo
Tol Antanë,
Pacific Ocean,
"I have been waiting for you," Maedhros growled. The two Valar standing in front of him were not moved by his words.
"I hope you did not tell anyone else of my coming here," Oromë said.
"I had to speak to you alone, so no." Maedhros answered. He placed his hands on his hips. "Would you mind telling me what happened?" He was seething in fury.
"I am not quite sure what you mean." Oromë said evenly. Maedhros frowned. The Vala was literally having him say it!
"You said that you did not think the Ring of Power will be too powerful. What I saw was something completely different!"
"Celebrimbor warned us that the powers may grow-"
"Grow? Grow? What I saw was-"Maedhros pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. He exhaled heavily through his nose. "He is not ready."
"He has not yet been tested fully." Oromë said. "And neither have you. You have been asked for first blood as well."
"That is not your concern." Maedhros growled. "You have given power to someone who is already very dangerous but not as wise. You do not know if he will be able to handle it."
"The same way we do not know if you will be able to handle it." Oromë said evenly. Maedhros gave a low growl deep in his throat. The Vala sighed, shaking his head. "Maedhros, there is nothing to be done. Húro's power was greater than any of us imagined it to be. It was meant to be strong, but not to this extent. Things are now moving in their own flow." Oromë said. "There are things in Arda that we do not understand nor do we have power over them. With our own powers diminishing, the Door of Night crumbles. You will have to depend on one another."
"The power you have given him is the one he could easily use to destroy us!"
Oromë actually laughed.
"Is this it? You worry that he, a Sinda, whose whom you destroyed will turn against you."
"He will have every reason to." Maedhros' anger disappeared, and his voice dropped to a whisper. "And I would not blame him for it."
"He wouldn't want it, Fëanor's son." Oromë said.
"How do you know?"
"Ask him."
Ulmo had been quiet throughout the entire exchange. Then Maedhros turned to him.
"The only way in or out of this island is through Sea. If Ossë continues to fight us-"
"I assure you that the matter is now under control." Ulmo answered. "He will be no problem from now."
"Really?" Maedhros narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "And if he ever returns to Morgoth's side."
Ulmo gave a small, cold smile.
"I have made sure he doesn't."
"Now, is there anything else you would like to know?" Oromë asked. The Forester had a barest trace of amusement in his voice. "Or the only reason you called us is to vent your anger?" Maedhros flushed.
"I wanted to know more about the aid you are going to send." Maedhros said. It was not what he wanted to know. The only thing the Fëanorian wanted was to speak of Húro. It had not gone according to plan and Maedhros still felt some misgivings for that Ring.
"Aman will empty soon." Oromë said. "And it will happen quickly. You need not fear for aid."
"And how do you expect the Race of Men believe in us or our tale?" Maedhros asked. Oromë smiled.
"Oh do not worry. Manwë had been working on that. It will be made clear once you return to the Elves."
"We cannot stay here longer." Ulmo said. "We are needed elsewhere."
Maedhros nodded at them before turning to the mouth of the cave, his boots squelching in the mud. Sea water was pouring inside as the tides rose. In minutes it will be completely submerged.
"Maedhros-"
Maedhros turned slightly. Oromë was smiling warmly at him.
"Your father would have been proud."
Maedhros gaped at him before clenching his jaw and abruptly leaving the cave.
