Thank you to all of my readers for waiting so patiently on this next chapter, I hated having to keep it from you for so long, but with class, there was just no time. I hope this chapter will make up for it and hopefully I can have a second up during my break. Sadly the story is winding down and will be finished soon =[ it makes me sad knowing I will have to part from my readers and my characters.
As always please read and review, and let me know of any errors you see, I do not have a beta reader and I easily skip over the mistakes!
Chapter 28
She woke from her nightmares, in a cold sweat. She had quit trying to calculate how long she had been in her cell, she lost consciousness too often to have any idea and the light in her room never changed, there was always just the blue sheen coating everything.
She also quit struggling to break free of her bonds; her attempts always left her in failure, bleeding wrist, and little energy. Túrante knew she had to conserve what little she had left for when her brother returned. She was growing weaker and weaker by the day. He had quite drenching her in blood, but he found other ways to torture her most of her waking moments. He also had not given her any sustenance or water.
Thinking of water made her realize how thirsty she was and not only for blood, but anything that was wet. Her lips ached from their dryness, and she could feel the drying skin flaking away revealing more cracked skin underneath.
Long ago all feeling had left her arms; she could not even feel her shoulder ache if she stayed still, which she did until he came. She tried not to think of that, it would come all too soon she knew.
Last night the vision of her creation came back to her as it had that night in Rivendell, only here there was no one to hear her screams, or rush to her side. Here there was only Eglanon smiling in his glory and triumph. He had started taking joy in breaking random bones, and watching as they healed painstakingly slow. The last time it was her ribs, and every breath she took hurt, and even when she quit breathing, they still ached. She did not know how long it took to heal; eventually she passed out, the grinding pain of their movement finally too much.
When he walked in this time, she did not even acknowledge him, the echo of his boots on the wet floor, seemed but faint footfalls. She pulled herself into her mind. Túrante let what would happen to her body happen, she did not care anymore. In her mind she could find some small bit of comfort. It was enough to dull the pain of whatever he had in store. Most of the time now she would only remember the biggest details and slip right off into her nightmares; they were now her almost constant companions.
She heard him yelling at her, but did not reply, she did not even comprehend the words that he spoke to her. Nor did she see him through her dulled eyes, when he jerked up her dangling head. Instead she saw her home, she imagined herself back in Calithil, looking over the grand city that spread through the mountain valley in Fangorn. She saw her people going about their day, the animals frolicking in the sun. She took a deep breath and could smell the sweet scents of spring on the air. To her right she saw him, Legolas stood near her shoulder smiling out over the balcony with her and it brought a smile to her on face. She knew it was not real, but it brought her some form of happiness in the darkness that was both surrounding her and in her. That image was her peace and she would die with it.
Túrante was ready to give up; she had decided that today was the day. She knew her body could not take much more, and she was tired of trying to keep herself alive. She just wanted it to end. After Eglanon was done, she planned to just let go and fade into the halls of Mandos. She would welcome the death.
Some part of her knew she needed to keep trying to live, keep fighting, not for herself but for her people and all the elves she had brought to finish this battle, but it was not enough. The thought of Legolas had given her pause, but only for awhile. She knew if she lived without him, she would die slowly day by day. This death was easier, less painful, that is what she wanted now—the easy path, and she would take it.
She registered enough to know that he was leaving, she did not register the sped at which he flew from the room, or she might have known something was occurring, but she did not. Túrante just knew that he was gone and she was finally going to be free. She looked to the stone ceiling, smiling and with a last laugh gave up.
…
The valley was eerily quiet the morning of their departure as Legolas paced to and fro. His blonde hair was matted and unkempt from his tossing and turning that night and his blood shot eyes finished with their dark circles hinted at his lack of sleep. His friends watched him from a distance, but they knew not to disturb him. Aragorn had made sure they all left him alone. He had known the elf long enough to know not to interrupt his brooding, even though he was concerned over his condition. Thranduil had attempted to speak with him the night before, and brought up Túrante. It ended in Legolas trying to hit his own kin, and he would have if the others had not jumped in. After than The King of Gondor order him to be left alone.
Legolas had no knowledge of what Aragorn had done but he was glad to be left alone. His insides where in turmoil. They had postpones their departure, making a new wave of anger and frustration bubble its way to the surface; if they did not hurry, the less of a chance they had to find her alive, if she was not already dead. 'No," he scolded himself. He could not think like that, 'I know she is still alive.' He was not sure how he knew, he could not feel her presence through the bond they seemed to share, but there was still something there. It was something he could not put his finger on, but it was enough. He knew somehow that she was not yet dead.
Legolas held onto to that shred of hope, it kept him from rushing off to her aid, it kept him here where he knew he was needed, but it was hard. Every minute that passed he grew tenser, his muscle were beginning to ache from their constant tautness. Had it not been for his companions he would have been long gone, yet he remembered his short talk with Aragorn.
When he had first learned they had to wait another day to make their start, he was preparing to leave on his own when Aragorn appeared. He was not soft and consoling to his loss, he was stern and kingly in his speech, which Legolas assumed he needed at that time. And now Aragorn's words weighed heavier than ever as the time drug on.
'And what if you leave? What then? We need you, without you, many more will die. I know you care for Túrante, we all do but this is bigger than her. She gave herself up so we could complete our mission; do not make that sacrifice be in vain.'
He had not said another word to him since.
Legolas was brought back to the present by the sound of a low blowing horn in the distance. His heart began thumping wildly in his chest. It was time. He wasted no time as he dashed through the crowd of elves and vampires, all trying to get to their post. No one spoke, they all gathered in a nervous silence. Legolas could feel the anxiety and fear rolling off the others around him in droves, his own joining theirs. Then the water was in front of him.
When he finally hit, the water was like thousands of tiny icy daggers all stabbing into his skin at once as he slowly waded into the shallows, and taking a deep breath, he plunged under the surface. He felt his heart jolt from the shock but he forced himself on, he had to make it to the caves opening. When he broke the surface he gasped for air, relieved to find the air rushing into his frozen lungs pleasantly warm.
The cave was large, it could easily fit a row of thirty elves, and the sides were a smooth brown color, no water dripped from them, considering they came from a lake to get here. The tunnel was lit by iridescent blue lights attached to sconces on the walls, they seemed to light themselves very much like the path they took through the misty mountains.
He immediately began searching for his friends, once he was able to get himself oriented to his surroundings. They were not hard to find, they had all gathered to one side of the cave, and he worked to make his way over. His mood was greatly improving now that they were on their way and one step closer to Canye.
"Aye, I see Blondie made it." Gimli's voice echoed off the walls, drawing attention to the group from those nearby.
"Gimli, not so loud, we do not know how far the sound will travel through this tunnel." Aragorn quickly scolded the dwarf who gave a loud humph.
"And to think I was worried about you." Legolas said to his friend, trying to force a small smile on his face.
"Of course ye were lad; you would have been lonely without me."
The others gave a small chuckle at the dwarf.
"What is our course now?" Faramir asked to his king.
It was Hallon, not Aragorn, however, who answered him. "The tunnel travels a good way before it splits— maybe a day and a half's journey. That will be difficult to judge, but it is the best estimate I have." He looked to Larcien who nodded in agreement. "Once we get to the split, each group will go their chosen way. We will all emerge in the dungeon, but at different sections. From there we will work our way up the floors. However, I must add we need to kill as quickly and quietly as we can for as long as is possible. The longer before we go unnoticed the better."
"Yes, we do not know the layout as our enemy will, we have Túrante's maps, yet it will not be the same. Stay together and work as a unit; we shall be stronger that way." Gandalf added, walking to the middle of the group, leaning heavily on his staff. He was weary, they all were. He looked around at the group, taking in all the faces. They were all different but all held the same undeniable fear he knew his did. With a sigh he slowly turned his back and began walking into the dim light. "Let us not linger here long and be gone."
Legolas was not sure how long they had been traveling, time passed slowly in the tunnel, and he had no way of knowing the time of day. They had stopped three times for rest since they started out, so he judged they had been inside the mountain for at least two if not three days. It was after the first rest they came upon the split and he and his companions took the middle path.
He traveled a few paces behind the leaders which included Hallon, Larcien, and Gandalf. He came to a quick halt when his leaders did, staring up into what seemed to him a shaft of some sort. "We are here."
Looking up he saw what seemed to be a small wooden ladder that lead up to s trap door of sorts. 'How would this have not been found?' he thought to himself. Then again Túrante had said the dungeons did not need to be guarded, so it may be they did not search through them hard either. Either way he felt his heart speed up, she could be there when they came up, she could be in one of the cells. He was just feet away from where she could be. But he had to shake those thoughts from his mind, there was also a chance she would not be there, but held somewhere else, or she could be guarded, which would bring problems.
As much as he wanted to keep thinking of her, he had to stop they were climbing the ladder into Angband. Hallon stopped as he reached the top, "A final word of wisdom, do not open any sealed doors within the fortress of Angband. There are many foul creatures still locked in its depths. Servants of Melkor." Then he turned straight to Legolas, "Do not open any locked doors." Then he pushed open the hatch.
It landed with a bang that seemed to reverberate around them, he could see dust clouding up around where it now lay, and clearly it had been empty for a long while. The air that hit him was thick and stale, threatening to choke him. There was a stench of death all around, and evil too. It laced the air like clouds do the sky during a storm. It was everywhere, and when Legolas surfaced he knew why. He stepped up onto the floor of the dungeons. On either side he saw cages, big and small, all black. The black he knew was blood, it was on about every surface. Old skeletons littered them as well. But something shiny caught his eye in all the gloom. He walked to the closest cage and ran a finger down the bar.
"It is mithril." He said astonished and brought Gimli over, "Is it not?" mithril was rare, and he had never seen so much in one place.
"Aye that would be mithril, all of it is lad." He said quietly, the weight of the place weighting on him.
"Even we cannot break the strength of mithril." Larcien said, placing a cold hand on their shoulders. "It was not such a rare thing when we were first created, when the world was young."
It was Hallon who broke them up and ushered them forward, no one argued.
Legolas had to make himself look straight ahead, if he looked at the cells, he thought of her, of he would feel the cold fingers of dread clawing at his heart. Then he saw it, the first of the enemy straight ahead. And with that all thoughts of Canye vanished for a time, it was him and the enemy and nothing else mattered.
With a nod they all crept forward and the battle began.
