A/N: I am REALLY displeased with this chapter and so I will apologize in advance for everything that you might find wrong with it! It really wasn't flowing for me; so if you have any ideas on improvement, please send them to me! I'll be more than happy to fix this chapter and repost it! Thanks!
Chapter 13
Legolas stared at the great beast before him, his eyes peering closer into the night. His eyes widened with surprise when he recognized the beast as a great dragon, nearly the same height as the tall oak tree it now had Gimli cornered into. I thought these creatures had disappeared from our world! Legolas thought, watching as it dipped its head closer to the Dwarf, the flames shooting forth from its nostrils, The last I had heard of them was during Master Bilbo's adventures with the Dwarves!
His thoughts were suddenly broken by Ziendriel's cry of fear as the dragon now nudged Gimli with its great snout. For his part, Gimli was doing his best to appear as brave as his demeanor dictated, but Legolas could clearly see him trembling. With grace and speed, Legolas pulled an arrow from his quiver and notched it tightly to his bow.
The sound of Ziendriel's cry had reached the dragon's ears, causing its head to whip towards her. She saw its glowing eyes focus clearly on her and felt the fear rise in her chest. It was clearly looking at her now and a deep rumble could be heard from within its throat. Instinctively, she stepped closer to her husband, hiding behind him.
The dragon raised its head, its eyes never leaving Ziendriel. It looked down upon her and delicately sniffed the air. Its head snapped back and a sound of confusion escaped its mouth. Then, just as quickly, it reared back, pinning Gimli against the tree with one gigantic clawed foot. "You will tell me who you are and why you have disturbed the peace of my home!" it roared, "And I warn you to speak the truth for your friend will pay the consequences!" It pressed its foot harder, causing Gimli to grunt.
"And why should we trust that you would not hurt him despite our agreement?" Legolas demanded, keeping his arrow trained upon the beast.
The dragon blew out a small flame of fire from its nostrils. "Because it is I who has control of the present situation," it answered, tightening its hold on the Dwarf. Gimli gave a small yelp of pain.
Ziendriel rushed forward. "Please!" she exclaimed. "Do not hurt him! We will do as you ask!" She turned towards Legolas, giving him a pointed look. "We will all do as you ask," she added. "But please do not hurt our friend!" She saw Legolas reluctantly lower his bow.
"I ask again for your identities," the dragon demanded. "And I warn you to speak the truth for there is something amiss concerning your group."
Ziendriel nodded, then gave the great creature a customary curtsey. "I am called Ziendriel," she introduced, pleasantly, though she feared for Gimli. "This is my husband Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood. We travel with our friends, one of which is the Dwarf named Gimli, whom you now hold." She turned to the rest of their company and introduced each one in turn. "My handmaiden Adrianna; Jhad, a captain in my husband's father's army; and members of the king of Mirkwood's cabinet, Lord Lorith and Lord Gragoc." They each bowed in respect to the dragon.
The beast was quiet for a long moment, then slightly nodded its great head. "It is well," he announced, releasing its grip on Gimli. The Dwarf took a deep breath, then scrambled to his feet "I do not sense any malice or threat behind your words," the dragon added. "I am Aegnor, Last of the Dragons. This pool has been my home for the last three centuries, a safe haven from the ever-changing world." He paused for a moment, his face, if possible, taking a reflective expression. "Tell me, Ziendriel, Princess of Mirkwood," he asked. "Why do I sense something familiar emanating from you?"
This confused the maid. "I am afraid I do not understand," she replied, looking thoughtfully at him.
"For many millennia, dragons have been able to detect the auras of other creatures," Aegnor explained. "Those who possess magical powers are more pronounced to our senses. It confuses me as to why I would detect the aura of another around you."
Ziendriel frowned. "I do not know what to tell you, Aegnor," she answered, truthfully.
The dragon also frowned. "I was not aware that she had any family," he murmured so softly that she almost did not hear him. "Tell me," he continued, a bit louder. She stared at him, expectantly. "Have you any connection to Aìnu the Elven Sorceress?"
At this, Ziendriel gasped in surprise. "How is it that you know of this lady?" she asked, clearly startled by the unexpected inquiry.
"The Lady once saved me from death," Aegnor answered. "I was but a babe at the time and very ill. Aìnu was kind enough to heal me of my ailment." He peered at the maid and added, "But, that still does not answer my question of why her aura of power surrounds you."
Ziendriel glanced at Legolas, her loss of words evident. She did not know where to start her story neither did she know the manner in which to explain her confusing start. Legolas was not much help for he looked just as flabbergasted as she.
It was Jhad who finally stepped forward, for out of any in their company, he knew more than Ziendriel cared to accept. "Many years ago, the sorceress we now speak of was killed at the hands of Men," he said, taking over when Ziendriel hesitated; she looked gratefully towards him. "For many days she was hunted as one might a deer," he continued. "There was no rest or peace in her flight, which eventually led to her capture. With help, she escaped and managed to reach the woods of our home, Greenwood the Great, now known as Mirkwood. Before once again being overpowered by the Men." He paused for a moment, out of respect for the sorceress, as well as his father, her Guardian at the time. It was an adequate amount considering the circumstances. "Before she was killed, however, she transformed her power and created an Elven babe and gifted that child to a barren couple. The Elven child is the maid to whom you now speak."
Aegnor appeared dazed. "I know Aìnu possessed great power, though she denied it many times," he murmured. "Now I see the extent of her powers manifested before my eyes!" He stared openly at her, the awe unmasked on his face.
Ziendriel shifted uncomfortably on her feet, unsure if Aegnor's comment was to be taken as a compliment. She could feel the eyes of everyone present burn through her, which only further caused her to blush.
Gimli, who had by now moved to the safety of the Elves, noticed her discomfort and cleared his throat loudly. "I profusely apologize, Aegnor, Last of the Dragons," he announced, humbly. "Had I known the true purpose of this pond, I would have steered clear of it!" He bowed, no longer afraid of the creature that had once held him captive.
Aegnor chuckled. "You are a curious creature, Master Dwarf," he said. "But it is well, just the same; for I have not had the pleasure of such companions for many years!"
"Will you join us at our fire?" Ziendriel invited. "I fear I have many questions concerning your friend, The Lady."
The great dragon nodded. "As do I," he answered.
Erundil could hardly mask his surprise when the stronghold of Yelren came into view. It was greatly dilapidated, with most of its outer walls crumbling and obviously weak, and its gate splintered and rotting on rusting hinges. It greatly surprised him that the building managed to still standing after surveying its rundown state.
Kel led the company through the rotting wood of the gates, entering the main courtyard. He, as did everyone, dismounted and proceeded to tie his steed to the post as many of the stable hands had long ago passed on. Glancing around, he motioned for his men to follow him into the main hall.
Erundil was quickly grabbed and set down upon his feet. His first thought was to run, but was reminded of his bonds when Tiruc gently prodded him forward, causing him to almost fall forward. The same hands that had lifted him off of the horse caught him before he could hit the ground, but Erundil ignored the fact; instead, he glared at Tiruc and muttered a curse under his breath.
Despite the dismally lit torches, the hall was dark and dusty as they entered, but Erundil took no notice. Instead, his eyes focused on Kel, walking purposeful through the decrepit halls of his home. The Elfling did not like this Man, not because of his abduction, but because the Man's mind was filled with a darkness that made Erundil shiver every time his mind touched the mortal's.
They finally entered a great hall, smaller than his grandfather's Great Hall, and stopped right before a crumbling dais. Upon it, seated in a worn throne made of wood, sat a dark-haired Man, draped in shabby but intricately designed robes. Erundil decided that this was the king of the land, but curiously enough, did not feel the same darkness from him.
Narìn, King of Yelren, had watched the whole procession enter his hall, his face masked of the churning emotions he felt, but his curiosity heightened. Kel and these men had disappeared nearly a week ago with hardly a word of explanation. It had greatly puzzled him, for he could not think of a single reason for the large company to journey beyond the safety of their borders.
Until he saw Tiruc enter with the Elf.
"Kel, what have you done?" the king bellowed, once all of the company had halted before him. He peered around his advisor, having no doubt that it was he who had organized such an expedition, and saw the Elfling, bound and gagged. "Release the Elf!"
"Milord," Kel greeted, bowing slightly. He said this with the air of a child intent on ignoring the warnings from a parent. He turned and bowed to the rest of the king's court, smiling pleasantly at them all. "Now that we have disposed of the pleasantries," he added, as if he had just told them all an amusing anecdote, "I am afraid that I must deny your request. The Elfling will remain in his bonds. As we have found, Elves, especially a young one such as this, are very cunning and….swift." He grimaced at the memory of Erundil nearly escaping after Tiruc had loosened his bonds slightly. "Besides," he added, pleasantly, "he is pertinent to our plans." He smiled broadly. "Milord, my I present Erundil, son of Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, great Elven kingdom."
Narìn felt his eyes widen in astonishment. "An Elven prince?" he whispered. When Kel nodded, he felt his anger swell. He had heard of the legendary skills of the Elven warriors from the time of One Ring; it was not a force to take lightly. "You fool!" he bellowed, "Do you not realize what you have done? You have surely brought war upon us!"
A gasp rippled through the small crowd, but the smile on Kel's face did not falter. "We have done nothing, save take measures to ensure the future of our people," he answered, boldly, "If truth be told, the Elves brought war upon themselves when they refused to grant us the great Elven sorceress!"
Narìn growled. "You have risked us all over some wisp of legend?" he demanded, stepping forward.
"It is not legend!" Kel dared to yell, his patience wearing thin from the disbelief of his king, "You know it as well as I!"
Narìn lunged forward, but was immediately stopped by the men that flanked Kel. The rest of the king's court began to rush forward, but were blocked by the remainder of Kel's company. It took five men to finally subdue the monarch, as he was of a bigger stature than they. "Unhand me!" he roared, outraged. When they did not, he looked at the men that restrained him, alarmed at the coldness he saw in their eyes. With just one glance, he could see their loyalties had shifted elsewhere. His eyes burned towards Kel. "You will pay dearly for this, Kel!"
Kel smirked. "I think not, your Highness," he answered, "I do not wish for things to end up the way they are going. That is why I shall ask for you to reconsider the situation."
Narin sneered. "Never!" he yelled, his lip curled as he bared his teeth.
The traitorous counselor shook his head. "Then, I am afraid it is to the dungeons with you, milord," he said, sadly. He motioned for the men that held the king to take him away, giving him a mock bow as he was dragged out. Kel then turned to the court. "No matter what you feel at the sudden turn of events," he began, "I now plead with you to listen! The presence of this child, this Elf, is to ensure the future of our people! With his assistance, no longer will Yelren be forgotten in the pages of history! With him and the power of the Elves that will no doubt be within our grasp, Yelren will once again be known throughout the land!" This drew a cheer from his men, while the rest curiously looked on.
Erundil tentatively glanced around, noting the differences between the Men now gathered. Although his tutors had versed him in the language of Westron, the exchange between the Men had been fast and furious, and therefore, hard to follow.
The Men not part of Kel's movement silently glanced at one another, their conversations held within the glimpses of one another's eyes. A few glanced at the Elf prince, then back to their brethren. Finally, a short, grey-haired man stepped forward. With all the straightness his middle-aged back could muster, he stood tall and proud, his head held high. "Our loyalty is to our king," he announced, his dark eyes blazing, "We trust in his wisdom and in his love for his people. We will never join you in your wild ramblings of Elven magic!" The others that stood behind him, mostly middle-aged as he, nodded in agreement.
At this display of bold defiance, the serenity of Kel's face finally cracked. "We shall see, Mirac!" he shot back. He glared at him for a moment and Mirac held his gaze, then once again motioned his men to take away the offender. Those who had banded together with Mirac were also taken away, whisked away to the dark and damp dungeons below the stronghold of Yelren, watched by the satisfied eyes of their dissenting brothers.
"And what shall we do with the Elfling?" Tiruc asked, gently prodding Erundil.
The young prince glared at Tiruc before settling his eyes upon the traitorous counselor. He knew that Kel was no doubt, still angry after his near-escape and that the consequences of such a bold move would not go unrewarded. In any case, Erundil continued to glare at him, defiantly, as only a member of royalty could.
He saw with grim satisfaction, the tightening of Kel's jaw, the narrow eyes as he, too, remembered the young monarch's actions. It had obviously not been anticipated; whether from true ignorance of Elven lore or bad planning, Erundil did not know. But now, that element could no longer be used in escape.
"Put him in the dungeon with the others," Kel finally answered, an eerie glint in his eye. He grinned at Erundil, which made him involuntarily shudder. The Man's eyes had suddenly glossed over and the grin that he now gave was that of a mind not quite there. He had seen these signs manifest themselves over the course of their travels and had become more and more pronounced as they had approached Yelren. His thoughts turned suddenly to Lady Adrianna Roseleaf, the Elf that had once been crazed in her mind and had attacked his mother. Obviously, he had never seen her before, but wondered if this what his mother had seen when dealing with her diseased mind?
With one last, hateful glance at Kel, Erundil felt himself being led out of the room and back into the dark and dusty halls.
Tiruc watched him as he went, then turned back to his leader. "If one such as he could give us such trouble," he told Kel, "Imagine what his parents will lash upon us!" His mind flashed back to the initial attack upon the Elves as his hand went to the back of his head. The bump was now gone, but the memory was not.
Kel smiled broadly at him. "Ah, but that is why we must plan, Tiruc!" he responded, "We cannot let them get the best of us as the young one almost did! While the rest of the men prepare for the meal, we shall prepare for victory!" He motioned him out of the halls and directly into the king's private chamber.
For the next several hours, the two peered over maps of their land, playing out strategies and improving on those that showed promise. The only interruption had been the arrival of the meal (a hard roll and cheese that wasn't fresh but not quite moldy), but that had been taken care of quickly before they were once again back at their plans.
Finally, when they did not think anymore thought could be done, a plan presented itself. It greatly pleased the two, inasmuch as they began to think and speak bold things.
"When Yelren has been healed," Kel announced, "so shall our people be! Our land shall once again bear our flag proudly and none shall have the power to down-trodden us anymore!"
Tiruc smiled in agreement. "Our warriors shall once again be the treasure of Gondor!" he said, his smile growing broader.
"Our kingdom will once again be numbered among those in Gondor!"
"In the east!"
"In all of Middle-Earth!"
They stopped for a moment, the thought coming to both at the same instant. "With this power of the Elven sorceress," Kel slowly began, "we could become greater than even all of Gondor. The power would be unmatched and therefore would we be also." He began to pace the room, his mind working fast. "If we take this opportunity," he added, "lands would be ours for the taking; nothing would be denied us!" His eyes lit up.
Tiruc appeared startled. "N-Nothing, milord?" he repeated.
Kel nodded, looking at him curiously. "I see you already have something in mind," he observed.
Swallowing hard, Tiruc nodded. "I desire the Elfling's mother," he answered.
Kel clapped him on the shoulder. "Then, I promise you, my friend," he told him, "Once the power of the sorceress is ours, she will be yours. And there is nothing in heaven or earth to keep her from you."