North of Laiquendi village. September 23, Second Age 144
THRANDUIL looked around at the pale face of the cadets. Muscles of their faces were tense and lined. Since the battle two nights ago, they have been moving nonstop since their short stop at the waterfall.
Thranduil looked up at the sky. It was a deep pool of black velvet dotted with sparkling jewels thrown haphazardly. Thranduil's hand moved of its own accord searching his neck for the leather-bound chain. His hand found nothing. The Sinda repressed a sigh and comforted himself knowing that his mother's necklace was in Glineth's safe hands back in Grey Havens. It had been necessary to leave it behind to avoid losing it, but Thranduil felt colder without it.
As the night deepened, the cliff that kept pace with them on their left began to hunker down, no longer steep and unconquerable.
The cadets were silent, only the woeful whispers of wind and the soft tinkling of the silver bells woven into the manes of the horses disturbed the tranquil silence of the night.
When the incline of the cliffside became gentle enough for the horses, cadets dismounted and started the climb. The wind from the vast moor that lay in the east grew bitter as they ascended to the top of the cliffside.
"Ai, thank the Valar! A stream!" Saldor exclaimed when he reached the top, grinning wide for the first time since the battle.
The top of the plateau was, indeed, full of young elm trees and flowing between the row of the trees was a small stream.
"Mayhap we can rest here, Commander," Lord Istuion suggested. "The young ones could use some rest."
Lord Gilmagor nodded. "Lord Istuion, please look to the cadet's injuries. They may need new dressing. I will survey the area. Thranduil and Elrond, take the first watch. Rest, set up camp." With that, Gilmagor disappeared among the pines and birches across the stream.
Thranduil and Elrond glanced at each other. They exchanged nods, and Elrond took to a tree north of the glade where the rest of the cadets set up camp. Thranduil walked toward a cliffside where they had just climbed and jumped up lightly onto a branch of the tallest elm there.
Despite the brightness of the stars tonight, the plains and the moor that stretched below the cliff to the river were barely visible. Only the river shimmered like a silver thread in the darkness of the night.
The trees hummed softly, their music just a faint melody amid the chirping of the insects. This forest was young, and it had not learned the ancient songs Thranduil had often heard in the older forests. As the sound of cadets moving died down, the harmony of the night deepened adding into its symphony the tooting of the birds and the flurry of tiny feet over the dried, fallen leaves and tree branches.
If the forest and the creatures that lived in it were calm, then there was no threat. Thranduil closed his eyes and relaxed his muscles, taking in a lungful of forest scents, pine trees mixed with birch. Then he scrunched his nose. Elms didn't smell as sweet. Regardless, he had missed the forest and its many sounds and scents. He leaned back onto the branch of the tree and allowed the sounds of the forest to envelop him.
"Thranduil!"
Someone broke into Thranduil's tranquility.
"I'm to take over your post," the elf called as he moved about somewhere below. "Thranduil?"
Loath to move, Thranduil thought of not answering when he heard the cadet moving away from him. The blond Sinda shook the branch on which he sat. "Here!"
Soon, a figure emerged through the branches. It was Saldor, his hair damp and smelling fresh.
"Anything?" Saldor asked once he climbed onto a branch next to where Thranduil sat.
"Nothing. It is a quiet night."
"Quiet is good." Saldor smiled. "I don't think I could take another like the one we had." Saldor looked away.
Thranduil stowed the bow he had lying on his knee onto his back and grabbed the tree trunk to get down to a branch below.
"Thranduil?" Saldor looked up. He ran his hand through his hair, then rubbed at the back of his neck. "How do you do it? You moved through those beasts like…." He seemed lost for words. "But then, you have no fear." The Noldo looked away again. Saldor clutched at his bow and Thranduil noticed the whiteness of his knuckles. "It's nothing," Saldor said and looked down at his bow.
Thranduil glanced at the branch below. Then, looked back at Saldor who settled down on the tree branch which he just vacated. Saldor's shoulders drooped.
"You are wrong. I was terrified," Thranduil said.
Saldor turned to Thranduil, his eyes wide. The cadet shook his head. "But you seemed so…"
"No matter how many times I fight them, I am afraid each time I face them."
"Then, how?" Saldor frowned, but his hand relaxed. "How do you manage your fear?"
"My father said to me once that courage is not about lacking fear. Rather, it is about doing what you need to do despite it. You stood your ground. That is what matters."
Saldor met Thranduil's eyes, then nodded. The Noldo smiled, and Thranduil realized how young Saldor was. He was one of the youngest among the cadets.
Thranduil swung down onto the branch below when Saldor poked his head through the upper tree branch.
"Don't wash near the camp. Go further down. There is a nice pool. Deep enough to dunk your entire body," he said with a grin, then disappeared.
Thranduil jumped down onto the ground and looked up. It surprised Thranduil how these cadets, Noldor as they were, felt no different from the Sindarin warriors. They had the same fears and the same courage. The cadets had been afraid, but faced the beasts and stood their ground. And when he opened up to them, they, too opened themselves to him.
His mother's words came to him then.
High Elves, Deep Elves, Grey Elves. Whether they are Vanyar, Noldor, Sindar or Nandor, those things, they are just words, Thranduil. It doesn't matter whether we are dark-haired and gray-eyed or yellow-haired and blue-eyed. We are all Elves. We are all kin. We differ only when you want to see only that which differentiate us. But, if you open your heart and open your mind, you will see that we are all the same. We are all brothers and sisters. Even the kinslayers. Even if they have done the worst things possible. It is not up to you or me to judge them.
"Thranduil!" Elrond called as Thranduil approached the stream. "Oron told me there is a pool further down," the Half-Elven said. "I can't wait to wash off the grime of the travel," he said as they walked down a path strewn with pebbles which glimmered pale white under the starlight.
They walked in companionable silence until Elrond spoke. "How is your head? Or was it your shoulder? That warg threw some nasty punch, it seemed."
"I thought I was just sitting around playing with the animal?" Thranduil said, rubbing his shoulder. It had been sore for a while, but the pain had calmed enough that he had forgotten about it.
"Well, you did sit around until I reached you. It looked as if you didn't plan on getting up."
"Get knocked against a boulder and see if you can get up as quickly," Thranduil said and took in a quick breath. Better get this over with. "Thank you," he said in a much lower voice.
"What?" Elrond said.
"Thank you for coming to my aid."
"What was that again?" Elrond leaned in, his hand over his ears.
"Did your ears remain mortal?" Thranduil frowned and turned to look at Elrond. "I said thank you." It was then that Thranduil caught the grin on Elrond' face.
"You are an ass!"
"I was just making sure I heard it right." Elrond chuckled. "I wasn't sure if I will be able to hear something like that from you ever again."
Sunlight glinted off a gold leaf as it glided in a slow arc. It fluttered in the air and shimmered under the light. The light was brilliant, the gold of the leaf almost white and bright. Thranduil squinted and turned away, but when he turned back for another look, it was no longer a leaf, but a hair of rarest gold. His mother's head fell backward, her golden hair tumbling over the gray cloak. She was falling. Her body moved slowly as if it was suspended in the air and each movement took a breath before it went on. Thranduil shouted, but no sound came as he reached for her.
But she wasn't there. Instead, an Elf stood, his eyes bright with light. His golden armor, draped with red cape, fell open. There was a bow in his hand. It was threaded with an arrow aimed at Thranduil.
"Shoot her. Astarno!" Someone shouted, and the name echoed.
Astarno. Astarno. Astarno….
The arrow flew at Thranduil.
Thranduil startled awake.
"Be calm now, Thranduil. All is well, young one." Lord Istuion's warm and mellow voice whispered beside him.
Thranduil blinked and took in Isution's white hair glowing like snow under moonlight. Lord Istuion sat next to Thranduil who had taken a spot as far from the fire and other cadets. The elder lord smiled, gentle and warm. For a moment, Thranduil thought it was Aron, so alike the uncle was to his nephew.
"Would you like a drink?" Lord Istuion offered a cup in his hand.
"No," said Thranduil and turned over, his back to the elder Sinda.
"Why didn't you tell me you were having nightmares, Thranduil. When did it start?"
Thranduil closed his eyes. He wondered if he had screamed in sleep. He had been careful each night since they left Lindon, taking the latest watch and sleeping farthest from the cadets as he could without drawing suspicion, sleeping as little as possible. But it was inevitable that someone would notice. But Thranduil had not wanted Lord Istuion to know. Lord Istuion rarely kept any secrets from his father. For a moment, Thranduil was glad that his father was far away and could not be reached.
"Do not worry, Thranduil," Istuion said as if he had read Thranduil's mind. "Cadets were too exhausted to notice. This was not the first time, was it?" Istuion let out a long sigh. "When we return to Lindon, I want you to start soul cleansing. I will talk to Mistress Turien."
"I don't think it is necessary," Thranduil sat up. He glanced at the other cadets lying near the fire. There were five of them. Lord Gilmagor could not be seen.
"The commander is on the watch. I will be relieving him soon," said Istuion. "And you need not worry about Mistress Turien. I know her to be discreet."
"My lord, I can handle few nightmares. Do not underestimate me."
Thranduil faced Lord Istuion. Istuion's silver eyes, usually warm and friendly, turned into blocks of marble.
"Health of one's soul is no laughing matter, Thranduil. The soul is the root of a tree. If there are worms that gnaw at the root, it must be addressed. A hollow tree does not only break easily, but it is also an easy target for the lightning. And a tree that catches fire will harm not only itself but the entire forest. You know this."
"I can handle it," Thranduil said, refusing to turn away from the probing eyes of the Sindarin lord.
"Then show me your light. It should be a simple thing."
Thranduil turned away, breaking eye contact. Thranduil was aware that Istuion wanted to see the strength of his light. But even that, concentrating his light on the top of his palm, Thranduil had not been able to do for quite a while.
"I cannot," Thranduil said, more a whisper than a reply.
Lord Istuion was silent for a while, and Thranduil wondered what the elder elf was thinking.
Thranduil turned to look at Istuion. The elder lord's eyes shimmered. Alarmed, Thranduil straightened. "It is not your fault, my lord. It is mine. I should have been stronger."
Lord Istuion shook his head. "It was my duty. I should have paid more attention." Istuion sighed. "If anything should happen to you… Please, Thranduil. Indulge this old Elf. Will you not allow Mistress Turien to help you?"
Thranduil swallowed a lump that suddenly seemed lodged in his throat. Why was it easier to defy when the elder lord ordered him around, but not so easy when he asked thus?"
Thranduil bent his head. "I will do as you ask."
Istuion reached over and placed his hand on Thranduil's shoulder.
"I am glad," the elder lord said then stood up. "I will go now to relieve the commander. Try to sleep more. Dawn will arrive soon enough," Istuion said before disappearing into the trees.
With a sigh, Thranduil sat up and leaned onto a trunk of the tree next to him. His hand automatically reached for the necklace that wasn't there. The dream came back vivid and real-like. Thranduil looked around. That kinslayer was supposed to live near here. Lord Gilmagor had said the village of the Green Elves was about half day's ride south from where they were. That meant, that kinslayer lived somewhere along their path. Thranduil reached for the sword he had placed under his bedroll. The time had come for the revenge.
But, if he did this, it also meant he had to leave Lindon. Kinslayers were not welcome in Lindon. They were not welcome anywhere, in fact. It was said that all of them perished when the Beleriand broke. Some said they lived in an island far off Forlindon, the only part of north Beleriand that survived. But, no one would know as no ship went there.
Taking the sword, Thranduil got up and moved opposite where Lord Istuion disappeared. He crossed the stream, past a row of pines and far enough that he could not be seen from the campsite. There was a small grove surrounded by pine trees and birches.
Thranduil took out the blade from its sheath. The white sword glowed as if it was surrounded by white flame when the starlight hit it. Thranduil took in a breath as he grasped its handle. The blade felt so familiar in his hands as if it was made for him. He swung the sword, cutting air. It whistled a melodic tune.
That last remaining kinslayer. He was one of those famed warriors of the First Age, battle-hardened and skilled. Was he skilled enough to face the Noldo? Thranduil moved, swinging his sword in the Noldorin pattern. That elf will know all the movements of the Noldorin Style. Thranduil changed the pattern to that of the Doriathrin warriors. That technique, however, was more suited for double swords as they were developed with the use of dual daggers in mind. Thranduil wished he had his knives.
Once we get to his village, I will have to ask Farion for a dagger to augment the sword.
Then, Thranduil stopped. This weapon was a Nodorin sword, a sword given by Lord Gilmagor in trust. It seemed wrong to use this sword to cut down another Noldor, even if it was a kinslayer.
Thranduil looked toward the campsite. If he was to pursue this revenge, was he prepared to lose the companions? Thranduil had never considered any of the cadets his friends. He had never felt he was part of them. Until now. The shared experience of fighting together had brought him closer to the other cadets. Thranduil had not thought it would matter, but it did.
Thranduil lowered the sword. Two paths lay before his eyes. The first one he had sworn to himself that he will take if ever the road was shown to him. And that road stood clear and vivid in front of him now. But another path lay next to it, a path he had not foreseen. The first road, Thranduil knew where it led, and he had prepared himself to accept it, even the darkness and the ruin that awaited at the end. The other, however, he could not see the end and could not fathom what lay there. But his heart desired it and knew his mother would have encouraged him to take it.
It was then that the sounds of the night suddenly stopped. Thranduil looked around. It was as if the insects and creatures of the forest all stopped in their track. The trees around him shuddered. Then, as if nothing had happened, the insects started to sing again, and the creatures moved about.
Something was happening in the forest. It was far enough from here for the animals and insects to ignore it, but it was not so far that they didn't feel it.
If it was one thing Thranduil learned, creatures in the forest felt things faster than his kind could perceive them. Thranduil sheathed the sword and lay his hand on the bark of the tree nearest him. These trees in this forest were young and did not speak as some of those that did in the Forests of Neldoreth and Region, but Thranduil had learned long ago how to read them. Lady Melian herself had taught it to him. The tree trembled when his mind touched it.
Thranduil took in a sharp breath.
"Orcs," he whispered, then ran toward the camp.
A quick thank you to Violet, a guest reader. Thank you so much for leaving me a comment. :) Also, a thank you for those who are following me and has favorited me. Thank you so much.
