It has been a shamefully long time since the last update and I am more than aware of it, I promise. However, the mixture of a bit of writer's block, packed schedule, and the long hours of naps I took instead of encouraging my writing, can result in something like this. But still - here it is: full of drama, new incidents, and angst as always!
Thranduil's arresting figure was making its way through the west wing of the palace towards the Corridors of Prophecy with such daunting haste he could crush a giant if it would stand in his way, therefore it was quite difficult for Meatherion to keep pace with the livid ruler. Lord Commander was both exhilarated and frightened to see the King in such condition, though he was growing to become more and more bemused as to what it might result in. It had been a long time since he'd last seen Thranduil so determined about something. Even though the Realm had been relishing in golden peace for a laudable amount of time, it did encounter several conflicts during Thranduil's reign, and even at those occasions he managed to remain composed and callous when forming appropriate battle strategies.
This time was much different. This time Meatherion could notice a certain degree of ferocity in his eyes, a drive so brutish and feral storming inside him which manifested in a gloomy, surly appearance Thranduil had been displaying ever since he received news of the incident unravelling one after another. Meatherion was not usually the one to encourage the development of feelings and emotions which, one could say, was an effect caused by the long-time service in the military profession. However, in this situation he found himself experiencing tremendous apprehension for his ruler who had become a close companion to him during the years, and Meatherion tended to allow himself occasional leniency of having a spot soft for those close to him, and even in this case the apprehension was solely based on the perspective he obtained during the service. And as if the recognition of the fact that this feeling had now settled in his mind for an unforeseeable future, a strong urge arose within him in that instant that ought to express this anxiety he had been experiencing which was an awful inconvenience for someone who had committed and adjusted to the life of suppressed feelings.
However, he had also consciously committed to the life of offering selfless and loyal service to the King which meant sharing every single piece of doubt he might encounter that might benefit the King's reign in any way, though he failed to see how formulating an opinion referring to the King's nature would eventually affect the mentioned problem. Being in the presence of his whimsical character for quite a long time now, Meatherion feared his altruistic act would most likely result in more damage than good.
Before the Lord Commander was able to make any progress on this confusing matter, the towering figure ahead of him, which he had been following with difficulty for good five minutes, suddenly halted and caused an almost unavoidable collision. Meatherion managed to evade the embarrassing interaction just in time due to his swift reflexes.
Thranduil held the position for a few short seconds, and then, much to Meatherion's surprise, uttered: "Aireiel, Edenir, how convenient of you to cross our path. Would you care to join me?"
The guests were just as baffled as the Lord Commander who was staring at them with utter disbelief and confusion which continued to linger in his mind after Thranduil's most recent mood swing at the arrival back at the palace. He then redirected his attention towards the guests and slightly lifted his head once his eyes met with Edenir's.
"You have excellent sense of timing," the Lord Commander joked. "I have forgotten how much of an asset it proves to be."
"Believe me, I could not have prevented it if I tried," Edenir replied, equally jestingly, as they carried on with their way.
"May I ask what is going on?" Aireiel intervened not a second later. Her head was spinning from the brutal intrusion and still trying to adjust after being disturbed by the King's sudden appearance.
Meatherion was aware that he should proceed with caution if the two (especially the young one) should pose too much questions since they were not privy to all facts regarding the most recent incidents. It was still a shock to think they were already involved in the initial murder affair, although Thranduil's feebleness prevented the elleth from imposing any preposterous suggestions. It concerned Meatherion that the elleth had adapted rather quickly to that role; the role of willingly reacting to King's calculated goading and giving the impression of actually enjoying to do so. Knowing the King for many years, Meatherion imagined it to be yet another one of his silly games he liked to play with mindless, naive beings like her. It simply pained him to foresee the outcome of that game and already observe the victor's celebration.
"I am still trying to work that out myself," was his ambiguous response as they all joined in a horizontal queue behind their King.
The two puzzled guests were out on a limb as to what sort of event set fire to Thranduil's hasty step; they could only speculate the seriousness of that event, and hope it wouldn't spread and infect the already glum populace beset by the threat of an approaching war.
They had, on the other hand, spent a substantial amount of time around the King's presence to know that whatever caused to agitate him to the point where he would run clueless about the palace should be taken with absolute urgency. Little did they know the King was anything but clueless in that very moment. In fact, there was a guilefully formed plan that was currently occupying his mind, and the pressing need to reach the chamber as soon as possible for the matter had escalated to the point where its consequences could no longer be postponed.
The route the King chose to arrive to the wanted destination was entirely unknown to the youngest of the group, since she had never seen such filigree and obsolete ornamentation in the palace or at least in the parts she'd visited so far (which were, to be fair, not so few). At the side of the carved stairs, accompanied by a long, continuous wooden path made of a rosewood trunk, were scenes her elven eyes had never captured before in her life: it was a meticulous handwork art which represented the daily routines of the Silvan Elves such as the conduct of the Realm's commerce, genre scenes of the elves cultivating their land, and most of all their love and worship of the nature surrounding them. It was not merely the motif and the theme that attracted the elleth, but the actual age of the paintings, which must have dated far back into the Second Age, presumably before King Oropher's time.
Throughout the entire time of Aireiel's admiration and amazement of the frescoes she had just witnessed, she'd become more and more aware of her love of art. And it suddenly pained her to even imagine the condition of these designs as the aftermath of a potential destruction currently knocking at the palace's gates. The young elleth felt an undeniable urge, which started to invigorate her entire being; the urge of righteousness. All of a sudden it felt as if being exposed to the beauty of the ancient elven art burdened her in an entirely new manner; as if she herself was responsible for its preservation.
Perhaps she felt so attached and connected with it because, for some reason, it may have reminded her of the beauty they had left behind in the forsaken lands of Lothlorien, and the thought of abandoning such heritage encumbered her with a completely new purpose: to consecrate (despite the fact that it was not her battle to fight at all) the last bits of her energy and effort to at least salvage Woodland's legacy as a poor subconscious compensation for failing to save her own.
By the time she managed to fully return to reality, the group had already entered antechamber leading to the secret room ahead, and her curiosity was not at all satisfied nor cooled down; in fact, it was even further fueled. Once they came into the room, they found some of the seats had already been taken by the members of the Council which meant the circumstances in which the meeting was held had reached a critical point.
When they arrived to the familiar wooden table, there was no usual official greeting or announcement to be heard from the King. The only thing the King let intentionally slip through his carefully masked expression was a stolid crescendo of pure acrimony and wrath he barely managed to constrain.
The crowd occupied the seats they were assigned in the previous meeting that was held here without further ado. Suddenly, the entire audience was aware of the reason of the urgent summoning they were all involved in. The newcomers were both frightened and nervous as ever, however even those with more experience in this area realised the whole thing was a lot gloomier than they'd expected. And if they were able to acknowledge that on their own, they could only imagine what was going in Thranduil's head at the moment.
The King sighed and turned his head to his left shoulder before deciding to speak to his audience.
"The last time we visited this chamber in this exact number and composition, our meeting was invaded by the malicious spirit we are trying to defeat," he begun. "It sensed my weakened spirit and assaulted it as quickly as possible to disable me from carrying out the crucial meeting we were forced to rearrange. But as much the invasion dampened me, I return stronger. And prepared."
The spoken words attracted the attention of everybody in the room. The intense spark in the King's eyes let them know he meant every single word of it, and it was also the reason they kept closer attention to what he intended to say next.
"From what I have seen today in the woods I can conclude the situation has progressed to another stage; a stage where we can no longer afford to merely discuss the possibilities and potential strategies but in fact enact them. It is upon me to decide which ones have the priority according to the situation we are facing. We have heard many promising suggestions in the previous meetings, however I believe we all agree it has come down to one in particular. Mostly because we are left with no other choice."
Hardly a few days ago there would be audible discontented sighs and laments to be heard in protest to such suggestion. But this time there was only deafening silence, adding additional weight to King's heavy words. Everybody shared the awareness there was no other way to change the position the Realm had found itself in but to announce escalation of the threat of the war. Except this time it was the Kingdom that was forming the next attack.
"My proposition is to form an offensive aiming directly at its source, Dol Guldur," Thranduil uttered in a calm, yet confident manner no one could object nor argue at that moment. It was announced with such formality some could not even believe it was the Woodland Kingdom they were discussing about but some other, distant region, not in any way relevant to their homeland. Morbidity and anguish darkened their minds once the realisation seeped in that it was, in fact, their own land the Shadow had targeted. The more they let it consume them, the more they understood they could no longer afford any spare minute to waste it on self-pity and misery; that sort of thing was reserved for the public.
The announcement was followed by a question: "Are there any objections or grievances against the proposition?" which had also first gone without a response that could only be understood as silent agreement.
As the silence progressed, so did the realisation of the obvious: it was exigent the Council and its advisers compose a strategy for the upcoming offensive in shortest amount of time as well as in absolute secrecy. The instant even a mere whisper would leak through these walls it would set off another wave of chaos consuming the palace from within and cause most likely irreversible catastrophe everyone wished to avoid.
While everyone was busy organising their own thoughts in piece, Aireiel was still undergoing the process of comprehending what had just been said. Even though she was rather pleasantly surprised to see her suggestion was taken into consideration, she was at the same time quite frightened of what repercussion the endorsed proposal would lead to. One of the many things she remained uncertain of was the question of their involvement in the war; whether or not their presence at this meeting was intentional and whether they were required to fight in the war as well. Those could be considered products of needless paranoia, however each time she would experience this sort of feeling something bad would follow. This time she was already aware of what was to come, however the magnitude of the entire situation remained to be seen.
The intricate labyrinths of ancient woods which not long ago people still marked with the name of Eryn Galen, were ravishing in the weak sun beams and absorbing what was left of the little light they were allowed before the early dusk would soon cover the surface in its chilling grey cloak. With the winter fast approaching and along with it the threat of freezing everything above the ground, the area that received the largest amount of the late afternoon sunlight was absolutely swarming with all sorts of large, colourful insects and most peculiar beings the nature had ever created. Even vegetation seemed to have extended their thick stems in order to let as much light as they could through the skin of their leaves.
At the juncture where so many forms of life poured into one and flowed in seamless balance, there was one person who was fortunate enough to witness this occurrence every day. Radagast the Brown had been surrounded by nature and renowned as its protector ever since he was chosen to be one of the Istari to come to Middle Earth on the date of 1000 since the beginning of the Third Age, and was assigned to deal with the affairs of various folk dwelling in Middle Earth. However, he turned out to be little concerned with the affairs of Men and Elves, but was far more erudite in plants, birds, and beasts of the forest. Being engaged in nature's own processes and also being exposed to its brutal circumstances several times, he was justifiably marked as Mirkwood's personal watchful guardian; there was not a single movement in the forest he could not sense as well as an incident he would let slip pass him, therefore the strange occurrences of late unravelling in the South of Mirkwood naturally appeared on his radar as events of most alarming nature.
As he crossed the Gladden Fields and entered Mirkwood at its West side, he observed with great caution the transformation the forest had been undergoing since the ending of the summer and detected several upsetting manifestations of the harmful process. To a negligent, inexperienced eye the transformation ostensibly appeared as natural consequence of the passing season, however there was far more to it than that. The withering flora and erratic fauna may have seemed as if they were merely adjusting to the early conditions of the cold winter ahead, but in truth they were preparing for something unthinkable. They were preparing for their obliteration.
It would be an unjust understatement to say Radagast was mildly alarmed by the state he was inspecting; there was unspeakable rage simmering within him and reprimanded that little amount of self-control that managed to prevail him from unleashing that same rage upon those who had afflicted his forest with this abominable disease. There was a strong sense of self-preservation also guiding and encouraging that unbearable feeling of anger, but it also helped him convert it into something more productive and effective than simply destroying the evildoer. It helped him understand he could never defeat the culprit on his own, even though he did possess a great deal of wizard power in that slanting stick he never let out of his sight. It brought him to the realisation that in order to provide the reprisal he thought the culprit deserved, it was necessary for him to form his apprehension into a reasonable argument which could potentially draw the attention of a figure far more influential and powerful than him. In that instant, it was crystal clear to him what his next action should be.
Radagast immediately changed the course of his usual reconnoitre and directed his pace towards his humble abode Rhosgoble on the river Anduin. But he did not venture entirely alone; a small flock of blue-and-violet birdies, a young buck with his antlers still covered in velvet-like fur, and a pair of honey badgers joined him on his path of determination to notify the world of the forthcoming danger already poisoning their fresh soil.
"It is decided then," the King's voice declared. "We shall execute our offence strategy on this day sennight. Since we have come to this conclusion mutually, I assume we shall all equally contribute to the realisation of this plan." He then took in the sight of the audience in front of him (the combination of the Council, Lord Commander, and the two strangers) which fueled his mind the same way the taste of fine wine had its effect on a lonesome heart; it gave him a sense of purpose, strength, and most importantly – hope; it made him momentarily dive in his activism the same way a drunk temporarily escaped the ruin of his own person.
"It is crucial we acknowledge the fact that we face extremely difficult, dark days. In those days our minds tend to drift to corners buried deep in our minds where we seek haven and comfort. But do not let those tendencies trick you! There is no safe haven in the time of war, no refuge where we might take shelter. In the time of war our minds and bodies are constantly depressed by a large force of fear, doubt, and weakness. But remember: courage is not the absence of fear but rather the ability to face that fear and triumph despite the setbacks it might produce. That, my friends, is the mentality necessary to employ during the time of war."
Even those most eager to oppose the method of violence could not feel a tingling of adrenaline and optimism across their skin. In moments such as these, it was evident why Thranduil was their chosen king and the preferred ruler of the people: his unwavering commitment, charisma, and faith managed to bring out those same qualities in people who had lost faith in this world as in themselves. It was indeed a rare trait to come across in a person, yet indispensable in a leader.
Somehow even members of the Council, with Calaron on top, gave the impression of not coming up with anything tangible to object the proposal with, which was a clear evidence of the success of the speech and the strategy itself. It was clear from previous occasions that the King heeded the Council's advice from very rarely to never at all, but one might assume too quickly and consequentially erroneously that he paid no respect to their judgement; that was of course false on every level. Thranduil was far from disrespectful towards their beliefs, quite the opposite – he was very fond and appreciative of their unparalleled wisdom. He was simply an elf who preferred to obey the voice of his reason and heart, a combination that seemed impossible to some, yet natural to others. And in such cases it was obvious how sometimes a combination like this appeared to be the most reasonable one.
However despite the mainly positively charged atmosphere, Aireiel and Edenir were probably the only ones genuinely sceptical about what had just been discussed or rather, announced. The likelihood their lives would end by the hand of the Realm's authority had drastically lessened, but the opacity of their fate remained just the same. Nothing had been solved despite the many promises the question of their future shall be settled in the next few days. But those days had passed, and by the time their anxiety and uncertainty should diminish they had only increased. It had seemed as though the two of them were included in a disarray of much larger scale than they'd initially anticipated, and the more they saw it become even further complicated the more they both experienced an intense urge to simply escape it all before the threat, which was spreading like wildfire, would engulf them in its flames as well.
In the last moments given to speak one's doubt about the presented strategy, the tense serenity was disturbed by the intrusion of the person Aireiel most feared to confront during her stay in the palace, but equally burned to rest her eyes upon; another combination which Aireiel absolutely detested and rejected.
The Prince's abrupt entrance clearly interrupted everyone's collected reflection of the King's motivational words, and therefore earned looks of utter disfavour. Once they realised who, in fact, entered the chamber in such indecorous manner they returned to their quiet contemplation and internally chastised themselves for devoting rude glances to the King's son himself.
Legolas then dashed across the chamber, his case of arrows bumping against his muscular back (an observation obviously made by the blushing elleth sitting opposite the King), to whisper something unintelligible to his father. A few words were exchanged between the royals until the conversation was terminated by a swift nod from the King with a worried expression clouding his features. Legolas took two steps back to seclude from his father as well as the exposed position he had found himself in. The exchanged words were meant in earnest confidentiality and supposed to remain that way. But before Legolas could dwell any further on the matter, his father rose from his seat, gaining everyone's attention as was the purpose of this unanticipated action.
"I'm afraid this is where I must announce the meeting has come to an end. There are urgent matters that require my presence, which is why the meeting is prematurely adjourned. At this moment, all I can assure you with my word is that the Realm has entered a war far pass its due. I recommend we prepare for it accordingly." After that he muttered a faint apologize and rushed towards the exit, the sound of his clicking boots being the only sound occupying the room.
Just before both of the royals would exit the chamber and head towards the East wing, Aireiel managed to catch Legolas's forearm, which was rather difficult to grip due to it being still covered in the protective shield he'd forgotten to remove from the training earlier. To Aireiel's surprise, he immediately responded to the sudden grasp as if he'd been expecting something peculiar as that to occur.
The second his captivating locks swayed in her direction she moved closer to his side (which left him in utter shock), saying: "Have you completely forgotten about us?"
His already uncharacteristically widened eyes expanded even further, clearly dilated pupils exposed directly in Aireiel's sight, who failed to notice the crucial sign of his sincere vulnerability and disarmament.
"What about us?" he confusingly replied to a question he'd obviously completely misunderstood.
"My father and I, naturally!" she exclaimed outrageously, once more not paying attention to Legolas's behaviour.
"Oh, naturally, of course," the Prince hurried, realising the fatal consequences of his blooper, which, due to Aireiel's astounding ignorance, perhaps won't come to realisation. Or at least he had hoped so. "Hold on, what exactly do you mean by 'forgotten'?"
Aireiel released an impatient growl and explained further to the oblivious ellon before her. "What does this all mean for my father and I? Haven't we earned our freedom yet?"
Legolas, now fully focused on Aireiel's growing distress, noticed the apprehension and sadness in her hazel eyes he felt obliged to terminate. "Everything is going to be in order, I promise you."
"Do not make empty promises on things you have no intention of keeping!" she scolded him suddenly, a bit too harshly and loudly than she'd intended to. She released the grip she used to clutch Legolas's arm with and continued in a more collected manner, suddenly ashamed of the unwanted spill of emotions. "As you know, my father and I have gone through one war already and we wanted it to be our last. Undergoing another ruinous war would be the end of us, I can feel it. I cannot imagine what is going through my father's head this instant, but I need at least some form of consolation which I can use to soothe his worries, I beg of you!"
As if the shock of the unforeseen movement of the elleth who was standing in impertinent proximity was not a heavy load to be processed on its own, the swift change from heated words (in which he could not help but detect a rush of fierce beauty) to the tender sound of her voice pleading for his help evoked a feeling either unknown or almost erased from his emotional capacity. What he was experiencing was an exceptionally strong urge to provide safety and amenity regardless of the cost, but realising there was a very slim chance of that literally happening brought an unsolicited wave of helpless empathy flowing through his body.
Being forced to stare into the green of her irises enslaved his limbs in the same way as if that very shade of green with a hint of brown had represented a wild, untamed undergrowth swallowing him piece by piece, ensnaring and capturing his every failed attempt to escape, tofree himself from its claws. As he was standing there above her, having her entire life in his hands and dependant on his mercy, he could not help but also sense a tingling feeling of superiority and dominance over the poor being trembling before his eyes. But just as quickly the feeling came it also disappeared due to the intensifying impatience he'd notice in her expression, since the last thing he would want was to provoke another rush of her wrath directed at him.
"Please try not to worry," he began again, ignoring her pleadings, "my father is doing everything in his power to maintain things under control."
Suddenly, the formality and the restraints she had previously employed to express her utter frustration about current situation had vanished. All that remained was the imploring contortion of her features and the harsh words that left her lips without her even realising their weight and consequences of exhibiting such inappropriate behaviour in front of the Prince.
"Everything is not enough!" she wailed, disregarding every single regulation existing connected to addressing a member of the royal family. The sudden ascending of her voice attracted indignant and outraged looks from the entire room, which Aireiel also discounted due to her sudden blast.
"Legolas, garam baw lú," Thranduil's warning echoed from the antechamber. (Legolas, we have no time)
The Prince curved his neck for a small degree towards the source of the voice, his gaze falling towards the floor once he realised the emergency of his father's demand. His conscience was now divided into a half; one half bearing the weight of the duty bestowed upon him by his title and position, and the other one carrying the obligation accorded by his own heart. The first half gravitated towards his father's call, urging him to accompany his father on this vital task and aid him in any way he could, but then the other half would get involved, pressuring him with the burden of guilt for abandoning her once again. How exactly does one make a choice between mind and matter?
What was crucial to acknowledge was that the risk reached beyond just a mere threat of war or a possibility of a hostile invasion. It had reached a measure way past the usual scale for it represented a risk the entire Middle Earth should be aware of, and that sort of peril also required consultation and aid from authorities outside the borders of the Woodland Realm. However, since the Realm had suffered a large disadvantage from its unpredictably intelligent foe they were much short on time. It had become an asset they used to spend carelessly and were now facing its immense shortage. Intuition whispered in Legolas's ear what he should truly devote his attention to, and despite his short defiance against that thought he was aware of it being the only truth there was and the only truth he should obey. It was the truth he would have unconditionally followed before there was any other option to choose from. Before he had met her. And yet he was compelled to obey that truth nonetheless.
"Goheno nin," Legolas murmured and vanished through the door in order to avoid another obloquious look from the elleth he found he was unable to provide her what she stipulated.
As he was rushing towards the direction his father had gone to, all he could feel was guilt, ignominy, and denunciation burning at his back that was now turned towards Aireiel in the cold manner he had also used to dismiss her with. Even though suffering and disappointment were the last things he would ever wish to inflict on her, the only way out of this crisis was through it and he was aware of his crucial role he was about to play in resolving it. If he should abandon his indispensable role for the elleth, it could only be used against him as a frailty and another weak spot for the Shadow to abuse. He convinced himself he had done the right thing by quelling any trace or mere indication of affection towards her, even if that might not be entirely accurate to what he was actually feeling. For in the end, it was safer for both of them that he should retain those feelings to himself, far from inquisitive, harmful eyes that would only exploit that revelation against them.
"Should we expect any further complications with the elleth in the future?" Thranduil's question resembled an intrusive inquiry rather than an innocent query coming from a worried father.
"Of course not, father," he replied in hope Thranduil would not sense hesitation and uncertainty in his tone which was quite an optimistic ambition.
"See to it, please," Thranduil growled in an unamused manner. "For all of our sakes."
The Prince was not able to revel in the successful achievement of father dismissing the elleth's outburst as a simple inconvenience for another concern occupied his mind then. Was father onto something? Why else would he imply as if the elleth was my responsibility to supervise?
Legolas concluded these thoughts to be merely a side effect of having betrayed his heart by not responding or feeling disposed to act upon its command, even though that was essentially avoiding and denying his own desires. For he did nurture all sorts of desires; that much he was willing to admit. It was the nature, the variety, and the numerousness of those desires that kept reminding him of the delicate situation he had found himself in. He was also aware he was not doing her any service by denying her own existence or her presence in his heart right in front of her, however the revelation was already difficult for him to grasp, let alone waste his efforts attempting to explain this mess to her. There was nothing else left for him to do than to quell this matter the same way he would quell any other matter: painlessly and quick. He could not allow himself to be distracted by petty matters, further stealing his attention from things he should concentrate on in the first place.
Once he caught up with his father's brisk pace, he found himself at the entrance of the healers' chambers in the East wing. The sudden expedition of events produced a degree of uncertainty and discomfort to arise within the warrior. Initiating an unofficial questioning regarding the incident in the healers' chambers was inevitable and the only reasonable thing to do. Yet somehow Legolas felt uneasy at the thought of staring in the very eyes of the person who discovered the decaying body and still agreed to cooperate in the investigation. Obviously, the maid had no other choice but to concur on providing the authorities with as much information as she managed to retain, but her bravery and tenacity were estimable nevertheless. One would expect a person to flee from a risky situation like that, not exposing themselves in ever riskier conditions. This implied that they were not dealing with an ordinary elleth as her appearance and position might have inaccurately suggested. After all of that contemplation, Legolas concluded he was not sure what exactly to expect from the approaching interrogation.
The sound of their heavy steps descending towards the underground section indicated firm conviction that they were supposed to emanate; however their steps were significantly weighed down by the burden accorded to them by their royal titles. The time had arrived for them to face the darker, unpleasant sides of their positions and they were starting to realise such occasions were becoming more and more frequent.
Thranduil's large frame, covered in black brocade, passed the last the final corner after which he turned right when they arrived to the vast hallway, spreading far ahead where it ended with the main healers' chambers. The exact location the two of them were now headed to.
While they were hurrying between the massive stone pillars, Legolas began to experience similar influx of emotions as the maid who had only minutes later unfolded an unforgettable discovery. The Prince's eyebrows furrowed into a straight line which caused a chain reaction of his jaw clenching, the hairs on his skin prickling, and his breath getting caught in his throat. Legolas couldn't liberate himself from the progressing eerie feeling that began to produce an unpleasant state in him, as if the walls he was just passing possessed a pair of eyes of their own and meticulously examined his every single move. The sound of giggling maids whispering the contents of the infamous rumour to each other invaded his mind. His whole body cringed at the mere thought of being scrutinized by an invisible spirit that had been inconspicuously dwelling in these parts right in front of them for years. His mind was also invaded by the sudden recollection of the last time he visited those chambers and if filled him with even more goosebumps.
"Are you alright, son?" his father remarked.
"Quite alright, yes," was his quick respond. "I have merely never gotten used to the smell, that is all."
Thranduil released a light chortle that reminded Legolas of mockery, but before Legolas could utter his objection Thranduil began to justify his gesture: "The first time I encountered the throbbing, persisting scent of death I thought it was a part of my imagination. Only when I saw with my own eyes the decaying cadaver it belonged to, I was convinced there are worse things happening out there than the power of my imagination could ever fathom."
Legolas began to deepen into the words his father had just dedicated to him as he understood them as a form of counsel. He wondered what advice his father would give him if he had known the true reason for his current distress, but he chose not to rise any unnecessary suspicion and reply to his kind word of advice.
"It is perplexing how I have adjusted to the sight of death at battlefield as if I have internalised the image, but once I come to face its aftermath, once I smell it, I …"
"You become immobilised," Thranduil completed his sentence once Legolas fell speechless. Only in that moment Legolas believed there could be a shred of genuine understanding between the two of them; a concept Legolas had been unable to restore between them for a very long time.
"Exactly," the Prince agreed in silence, yet the expression in his eyes divulged he bore great admiration for him in that moment.
Suddenly, the King halted in his position, the additional cape around the brocade covering his wide shoulders swung before him and brushed quickly against Legolas's arm as he lifted his eyes.
"I believe pondering on the matter of war is beyond useless and gratuitous at this point," Thranduil began. The direction of his look was first aimed at anywhere but his son before him, but as he continued, his pale eyes were suddenly directed at the expectant Prince before him, "but some things are worth repeating for them to truly settle in one's mind and never to leave."
The Prince was locked in the position where he was unable to do anything but silently accept whatever his father was about to share with him. Once he captured his gaze, he could sense a degree of emotion Legolas had probably seen for the first time in his father's eyes. It faintly reminded him of remorse.
"This shall be no ordinary war, ion nin," he declared. "The proportions of the conflict have already extended to measures beyond our control. The further we tend to delay the inescapable by merely comprehending and accepting this fact, the weaker we are becoming. It is needless to confirm this out loud as you have probably arrived to the same conclusion yourself, that the news of our condition has spread far and wide across the nations."
Thranduil intentionally paused for a brief second to appraise Legolas's reaction which was as vague and bleary as if he spoke black speech to him, so he chose to continue with the final part of what turned out to be nothing less than a motivational speech where Thranduil did not intend to leave anything out.
"In critical times that now lay ahead of all of us, I have no demands of you, but wish for one modest thing. May the renewal of our bond be your guide through these dark times. May the true value of blood light your path towards fair judgement. Gods know you shall need it."
At this point in his speech his right hand reached Legolas's left shoulder and gently squeezed at the protective leather layer that covered the outer part of his training outfit. It was more than a gesture of an incentive, fatherly pat on the shoulder; it was a clear sign of preparing him for something he had yet to discover. The more his words echoed in his mind, the more Legolas wondered what exactly did father mean. May the true value of blood light your path towards fair judgement. But fair judgement against what?
After a brief moment of intense uncertainty, Thranduil returned to his usual flexed, straight pose as they continued their way towards the hallway. Soon, they were greeted by two guardsmen appointed to safeguard the witness, the new essential part of the investigation. Thranduil was very well aware of the fact the soon acquired information could prove of vital importance and grave influence to the situation. Therefore, he was prepared to undertake any strategy that should grant him the highest possibility of gaining the crucial intelligence he hoped to receive. And as soon as he was met with the face of the elleth he was about to question, he realised the path towards success of his mission had significantly shortened. Or at least that was what he presumed.
"Hafo, nin meld," he urged gently as the elleth quickly jumped from her seat to greet His Majesty. Faelwen did as she was told and descended back to the velvet cushion placed on a stone surface.(Sit down, my dear)
The Prince positioned safely himself in the corner left from the entrance, from where he could comfortably observe the elleth in the process of a truly demanding interrogation. He placed his right foot over the left one and crossed his arms while having his eyes focused on the witness currently facing the King who seemed too pleased with himself not to have some sort of scheme prepared behind all of it.
"Where shall we begin?" exhorted the King as he placed his joined hands in his lap, patiently awaiting for the elleth to make some noise. Once she fail to do so for the next two minutes, the King repeated himself, adding: "As I recall it, you specifically requested my presence, is that not so?"
"Aphedo na lí ara!" a voice shouted then, which belonged to one of the guardsmen currently present in the chamber. (Answer your King!)
The elleth was visibly shaken by the earsplitting command which was not a common thing to occur among the guards of the Royal Elven Guard. Their orders were usually conveyed through a composed, unruffled manner since it was not in the Elven nature to get agitated as easily. The King devoted the guard a rigorous look which made the ellon uncomfortably switch in his position and mildly rearrange the belt with a sword attached to it. He suddenly felt as if it compressed his waist, and he did not even dare to guess the reason for the sudden constriction of the belt.
Thranduil then returned the gaze towards the unnerved elleth, whose palms formed a protective shield around each other with her eyes swaying in all directions but the one she should be aiming her gaze at.
Admittedly, Thranduil's patience was wearing thin as it was in his obstinate nature he could never quite shake off, but in this case he was determined to see through this interrogation with as little violence and pugnacity as possible for it was in both of their interests to make this meeting result in success.
"Time is not on our side in this and we cannot afford to waste any more of it than we have already. I know it must be difficult for an ordinary worker like yourself to be exposed to such cruelty on the workplace, especially in dark times we are facing these past few weeks. However, you must try to find the strength to-"
"He was simply standing there," Faelwen interrupted the King without realising. The look in her eyes was absent as it was locked on the stone surface of the table in front of her.
"Who was?" Legolas intervened.
"Take us through the incident evenly, do not leave anything out," Thranduil encouraged her.
Faelwen took in a few deep breaths before she was able to form a congruent, composed statement. She led them through the part of being allotted a new task of joining the healers for the morning and the process of being introduced to the new workplace. There she halted for a moment.
"His name is Cereidon or at least that is the name he used to greet with me. We arrived to the main healers' chambers where he had given me detailed instructions on the treatment of the patient 56, that was supposed to suffer a fatal injury to the spine. What I have found instead was..."
Everybody in the room was aware of what exactly it was that Faelwen had discovered and there was no need for repeating the horrors she'd witnessed. Then suddenly, her eyes jumped to the King without a single trace of fear or awe for the person sitting opposite her. Something similar to angry confusion and indignation overwhelmed her as she continued.
"And he was just standing there. As if he was prepared for what was to come."
"The healer you mentioned?" Legolas asked to which Faelwen replied with a single nod. Then he turned to his father. "It was him who gave the official report."
"How did he react afterwards?" the King wanted to know.
"He followed the procedure according to the statute and then returned to his duties as usual," the elleth explained in a dull tone.
"How strange!" Legolas asserted.
"Strange, indeed," the King agreed, engrossed in his thoughts, when he rose his head to the guard: "Find him and bring him here."
"Please, no!" Faelwen exclaimed unexpectedly. "I do not wish to have any further connection with that ellon, especially having to support my story in front of him!"
"You must understand," Thranduil began, "that the information you have entrusted to us has become a matter of national importance, therefore an information of high value. We intend to make use of it where it can prove useful. There is no time for worrying whether or not you shall lose trust of a single ellon whereas you have gained the Realm's protection instead."
That managed to calm her down at least to the point where she could not think of an instant argument to object the idea with (not that it was in her nature to object a member of royalty, of course). However, she was not as successful with the rush of thoughts that kept invading her mind about how her confession shall influence not only her employment, but further existence as well. It was needless to say that with acknowledging her information's worth she also became worried for her own well-being.
Suddenly, a loud stamp of feet and profanity filled the hallway area outside the chamber. Legolas was the first to arrive on the scene, followed by the King, while Faelwen only managed to slightly lean her head out of the chamber to observe the happening. Soon, she could notice a tall figure approaching the royals, his chestnut hair flying in all directions as he (unsuccessfully) attempted several times to escape the unrelenting grip on his forearms. She could her him voice multiple complaints regarding the reason for his apprehension to which there was no reply.
The screams of disapproval fell silent once the ellon was brought to the King's face and only a few meters away from the inquisitive elleth. She could clearly begin see Cereidon's previous angry expression was being replaced by a whole different countenance deforming his features; his wide eyes shrunk into a round pair of dark jewels radiating with malicious glow, the skin around his eyes and mouth twisted to the point where the previous straight line of his lips formed a devilish sneer. All of a sudden, the charming and graceful ellon Faelwen had only recently had the pleasure of greeting disappeared entirely from Cereidon's face. In his stead, it seemed as if a creature of the night had possessed his physical form and completely demolished whatever idea of a pure ellon that still managed to persist in Faelwen's mind.
"Go on," she could hear him say with an eerie voice. "Ask the question."
"Was it you after all, Cereidon?" Legolas tried first.
"Wrong!" Cereidon yelled, or at least the creature that had inhabited within him. After that a delusional laughter followed and his eyes switched to the King who had not flinched or moved even a bit. "Shall Your Majesty give it another try?"
"How did you do it?"
"Interesting choice, my King, however if I were you I would not be concerned as much with the how but rather with the why, though I've decided to quench your burning curiosity nonetheless," the creature jested in its sick manner.
"Answer the question, you filth!" Thranduil roared.
"One would deem your Excellency to err on the side of caution these days rather than taking a risk by welcoming a pair of strangers in your residence," the creature began. "You ought to have chosen more wisely, my King. Your time has run out."
"I am no King of yours," Thranduil spat. "Throw him in the lower dungeons! And keep him there until the day of his judgement comes!"
The King's orders were immediately obeyed as the creature, still firmly enclosed in the guards' grip, was being dragged away from the scene and could be heard yelling additional amount of sacrilege. While the culprit was being discarded, the pair of royals then turned to the helpless being who merely observed the entire happening from behind one of the stone pillars guarding her from exposing herself. The King then approached her and his towering figure could almost shade Faelwen's entire face.
"I thank you for placing yourself in a very perilous situation by exposing yourself with sharing such sensitive information," Thranduil expressed his gratitude. "But I must warn you to remain cautious every step of your way. Do not mention the events of today to anyone if you value your life, for our walls have grown a pair of ears and eyes of their own of late. And before we make any further progress, we must make sure to cut them off."
With the last sentence he executed a gesture that indicated for her to leave the area now as the King wished to spend a few minutes in privacy with his son that had now joined his side.
"We still do not have in our possession his full statement of confession," Legolas reminded him once the silence began to gnaw to deep in his thoughts.
Thranduil waited a few short moments before answering in firm determination: "Sometimes, the law must be adjusted to current extreme circumstances in order to avoid certain aggravations in the future."
"You denote the number of deaths that occurred in the recent weeks as an aggravation?" the Prince asked in blatant disbelief and resentment.
"I denote it as the beginning of a national catastrophe," the Elven king then swayed his head in a single swift movement to his son, his blonde locks strictly hitting the fabric on his chest and shoulders. "But trust me when I say that the demise of these individuals is but an itch compared to what our Realm is yet to face."
A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed this one. It was quite tense reading it all over again, not to mention writing it.
So this silly little idea turned up in my mind and I think it's rather interesting. I've noticed (in other fanfictons) that adding a piece of music which inspired you (or reminds you of) writing a certain scene has become quite popular among writers here. So I decided to join this trend and for the introduction of a new character, the Brown Wizard, I chose this lovely piece of classical music: Morning Mood by Edvard Grieg (Peer Gynt) since I always enjoy listening to some classical music while writing. I believe it suits Radagast and his role perfectly!