012. Betrayal

The Decision

The acrid scent of wood burning filled his nostrils. It burned a path from his nostrils, throat and filled his lungs. He coughed. His head grew heavy, and he swayed. He crashed against the trunk, and leaned against it for support. Tears welled up in his eyes from the ash falling from the sky.

His entire world, full of green and life, turned into a nightmare of ash, smoke and fire.

He raised his horror-filled eyes and found the fire devouring wood like a hungry wolf does a sheep.

"THRANDUIL!"

He paid the cry no heed. With clenched teeth, he took one purposive step, and then another. And another. But his body felt like lead. His armour never felt so heavy.

"THRANDUIL, ENOUGH!"

The tree beside him gave a loud groan and fell before him with a thundering crash of burning mass. Thranduil's heart broke in further shards. His forest… his beloved forest…

A hand clasped his shoulder and he shook it back roughly.

"We need to put out the fire." Thranduil said. His voice came out in a croak. His throat was parched and scratchy. He raised one hand and clutched his throat in a claw-like gesture.

The hand returned and this time Thranduil was yanked back from the blazing fire and turned around. He faced an Elven face twisted in the shadows, pulled in fury and compassion.

"This part of the forest is lost!" Thorontur shouted. Thranduil leaned forward, letting his weary body take support and comfort from his advisor. Thorontur pulled him close in a rough embrace. Another gust of wind spread the fire further than ever and Thranduil grimaced in pain as numerous trees shrieked in agony. Tears fell from Thranduil's eyes, dampening Thorontur's cloak.

"We have to go," Thorontur whispered in the king's ear. It jerked Thranduil awake, as if lightning passed through his body. Thranduil pulled back. His legs shook under the weight of his body, too weary to support his weight on its own. In that irrational moment, he cursed his body for failing him so suddenly. He cursed his eternal youth that had its limits. He cursed his trembling hands that were too weak to hold a sword or carry a wounded soldier to safety.

"You are tired!" Thorontur bellowed, shaking the royal with his fingers clutching his shoulders. Thranduil gripped on to his advisor's armour, feeling the hard metal digging into his palms. "Thranduil, we have to go! We have to regroup!"

This time when Thorontur dragged him away from the burning trees, Thranduil complied without resistance. The advisor pulled him to safety. Thranduil's lungs cleared as he stepped away from the toxic, enflamed land. As he retreated, he spared a look behind Thorontur's shoulder.

His sanctum turned from green, brown and gold to an inferno of red, black and grey.


Author's Note:

I am back. Flu and bouts of fever can make you sit still. :P But it also makes you really bored and so here I am, writing and posting. XD