Chapter 38~ At What Cost?
Tauriel laughed as she pranced over to Dorthion's side, breaths coming fast. Exhilaration wound through her like a cool, refreshing wave.
There was something about watching the Edain flee before their face and out of the forest that brought such a feeling of accomplishment to her. She, as captain, had not failed.
She, despite the circumstances and the heavy loss of Jaseric that weighed upon her heart, had come out on top. With a little help of course...
Tauriel looked to Dorthion and he gave her a wide smile. The spring green of his eyes seemed to shine brighter when he was joyous and she would remember him such always.
The elleth returned the bright smile and they discreetly intertwined their fingers as a call from Feren rang out for them to gather and listen in on the newest developments.
They ignored the summons for the time being.
Though it seemed perhaps rather sudden, Tauriel was very much attracted to this ellon. He had helped her through her darkest times, carrying her out of memories as she clung to the lifeless body of Jaseric. Staying at her bedside and letting her cry on his shoulder when she was spurned by all others.
Traitor, they had hissed. Murderer.
Those things she knew she was not. Dorthion had been there to lift her above the drowning waters of her grief, be her crutch so that she would not flounder aimlessly in the waves before they finally devoured her. Yes, he had done that, but it had been her that had fought through the darkness of her mind.
With her head above the thrashing waters, she had the spare second to take a gulp of air and see from a new perspective.
She had yet to thank him for that.
"Dorthion?" she ventured lightly.
He perked up and turned towards her, eyes bright like an unblemished elfling.
"Yes?"
"I—I want to thank you."
His brows raised in pleasant surprise.
"Whatever for?"
She hesitated slightly before answering, "For everything," she said, her tone light, accompanied with a genuine smile.
His countenance practically shone. It was obvious that he had been quite smitten with her since before the whole ordeal and his patience had been rewarded.
Dorthion brought up her hand and pressed a light kiss to her knuckles.
"Hiril nin," he said with a bow.
They ambled over to the gathering, hand-in-hand and hearts buoyant.
oOo
"Dín, saes!" Feren shouted over the buzz of voices.
It quieted immediately.
"I would first like to congratulate our victory! The valiance of every one of you has brought us forward and the whole of Greenwood has to thank you all for that."
A ring of shouts ricochet amongst the trees. They died out as Feren solemned.
"That victory, however has come with a cost. We know not the odd phenomenon that has reduced our stronghold to ruins, but we cannot linger here, houseless," his voice carried well and without strain after centuries of being accustomed to addressing large throngs.
"There is an outlet, I believe. The stronghold in the East still stands in the heart of the rock and I believe that now is the time to take up residence there as we have naught else to go."
Murmurs of approval rippled through the crowd, elves turning to one another and whispering affirmatives or speculations. The rabble of Edain and Naugrim from the small trade town had started back East hours ago as they were no longer needed.
"What say you?"
A great cry rose up and Feren and Galion exchanged pleased glances with Elrond and the young human tucked under his arm.
"Onward!"
The crowd edged forward. Feren has been about to bring up the lead when a hand in his sleeve brought him to a halt. He turned to meet the eyes of his mother, healer Aldaner.
He gave her a warm smile, though his eyes were clouded with much weariness. She could tell that stress and guilt was weighing heavily down on him.
"Naneth."
She smiled fondly at him and cupped his cheek, playfully tugging at the unbound hair at his ears. She pulled him into an embrace and rested her chin on his shoulder to have better access to his ear.
"I just wanted to tell you how proud I am of you, ion nin," she whispered.
His arms encircled her in turn and he buried his face in her neck. He hoped she imagined the small tremors coursing through him.
"Naneth, of what? I have done naught but speak a smattering of words in hopes I appear to be fulfilling my duties. Oh, I do not know what to do; I could not save Thranduil, I could not keep Legolas from endangering his life once again— I do not see what there is to be proud of."
He sniffed and unobtrusively passed a hand over his eyes.
Aldaner stiffened and drew him back by his shoulders.
"Now you listen here, penneth. I do not want to hear such nonsense spilling from your mouth ever again! I am proud of you because you are my son and nothing more! You do not have to earn my love, or Thranduil's. He is still out there somewhere and if I know anything of him, he will be waiting for us back at the new stronghold after breaking into the wine stores that are undoubtedly there, with his feet kicked up as he drinks his fill."
Feren smiled at the image. "I suppose you are right..."
Aldaner raised her brows and released his shoulders. "I am your mother, penneth. I am always right when it concerns you."
She gave him a smug nod and winked, turning on her heel to follow the procession with Feren trailing and shaking his head fondly.
He hoped with all his heart what she said would be true.
oOo
Legolas curled into the embrace of a tree, eyes vacant and rubbing his side. He was glad for the respite in their journey, for he was weary beyond measure.
They had found no sign of the king besides what the elleth, Alagbara had revealed. He hoped she succeeded in finding him.
The anxiousness was miserable.
A small hand appeared on the branch in front of him. Then another. Dark brown, youthful eyes peered over the drained ellon nestled in the boughs.
Legolas found the interruption a bit irritating and could only watch limply in consternation as the elfling proceeded to climb into his lap and curl himself against the ellon's chest without permission.
The Sinda stiffly stared at the small being who was not quite oblivious to his discomfort. They were brothers, after all.
Minaitir cocked his head to the side, disconcertingly looking Legolas in the eye.
"Why do you not like me?"
Legolas sighed. "I do like you, I had just been hoping for a few spare moments alone."
Minaitir nodded as he processed the information.
"Oh. I thought you didn' like me 'cause you wanted to have Thran all to yourself!"
The Sinda scowled at this. This elfling was getting increasingly irritating. That was a sore subject and he wanted naught to do with it.
Minaitir settled his back against Legolas' chest when no response came from the older ellon.
"Do you still feel sad sometimes, 'bout your nana?"
Legolas stiffened until he rivaled a board. "Perhaps," he ground out.
"Oh. Well I do. Sometimes I remember her and feel happy, though. I do not remember her all that much because I was very young when she died but she made the best sweet cakes on this side of the Anduin always gave me hugs," Minaitir, snuggling his face into Legolas' chest at the reminisce.
"But I suppose you have your ada still. He is very kind."
Call it childish, but Legolas was jealous. Plain and simple.
He was jealous of this charming child that gained acceptance with a mere smile, who viewed life in such a carefree manner, who was unperturbed by his rejection, who spoke of subjects Legolas had kept buried deep as if it was discussing the weather, and most of all that this stranger held something special with his adar.
"Indeed." A long, uncomfortable pause. Legolas pushed the elfling off his lap as he scooted down the branch. "I will see to the water supply; excuse me."
Minaitir watched sullenly from above as the Sinda slipped from the tree and strode away. He had the feeling his brother did not like him very much.
He curled in on himself; the hole in his chest seemed just a bit bigger now.
And Minaitir cried, his hand unconsciously curling around the hilt of Thranduil's knife.
He cried for what he lost, what he didn't have, and that it hurt inside. But he cried most of all for that which he did have did not want him.
oOo
Trees smeared by at the edges of Thranduil's vision. The silence of the night was cut by the crashing of speeding hooves through the underbrush and the labored pants of the horse.
The Sinda crouched father down the horse's withers, urging her to give him a last burst of speed. The mare huffed and tossed her head, lengthening her stride. Thranduil grieved not finding out the horse's name before he left and offered a pat to her neck as she sped on.
He could tell she was uneasy with this area and was reluctant to plunge in as they were now. The whites of her eyes nearly glowed through the gloom of the forest.
That was another thing.
The trees here seemed much more solemn and withdrawn than what was usual. The Song of Arda was not exactly a physical sound, but more of a feeling, like the sensation when a strong scent such as wine wafted through the air so that one could almost taste it. So it was now; the trees hummed (though moaned seemed a bit more of a proper choice of word, considering the ominous energy that seemed to clog the very air) a low, throaty noise that rattled through one's bones and caused them a wary sense of discomfort.
The trees were much more sparse in this area, allowing horse and rider to lead a somewhat straighter path after their quarry. The pending scent of rain hung in the air, making it feel heavier.
Ausocitin had a head start, but Thranduil's horse was surely the superior so they had often caught the flicking end of the other horse's tail amidst the thinning brush.
"It won't be much longer now," the Sinda whispered in the horse's ear as it rotated to him before flicking alertly back to their path.
It was true. Ausocitin had not attempted to veer them off his course which was blatantly set straight for the Mountains nested in the heart of the Greenwood. It was certainly suspicious, but Thranduil knew that he had to get the tainted Ring back by all costs. With it, the ellon was far too powerful, as a majority of the trees were Darkened, and the dark Ring allowed the bearer to have positive association with them. At least, it was positive for the bearer.
Means which to control the nightmarish trees could mean nothing good.
There!
Towering peaks edged into sight from between the gaps of gnarled trunks. Thranduil shifted his balance again, urging the mare into the final stretch of their mad chase.
He would succeed. He had to.
They erupted into the clearing, hooves bashing into the gravel. A shudder ran through the stout little mare. This area seemed to be the vortex of the malcontent buzzing through their racing hearts.
Thranduil spotted Ausocitin immediately and pushed the mare to give her last, promising respite after her long toil.
The little spitfire shot ahead, the foam flecking her shining coat sliding off her heated muscles she she pumped faster and faster, legs a blur and stirring the rocks underfoot into an uproar in her wake.
They were nose to flank. Nose to withers. Neck and neck.
The first rocky cliff grew ever nearer as the two figures galloped on. He could see Ausocitin's flickering eyes flashing from here.
Thranduil inched ahead and made his move, jabbing the mare sharply in the ribs so that she pivoted into the path of the oncoming horse and rider, the gravel churning.
The ex-advisor's eyes widened in shock he swerved his own steed to miss the mad ellon.
It was not early enough. The two horses nearly crashed into each other. Thranduil leapt off the mare's back knocking Ausocitin clean off his mount.
The horses turned tail back to the forest the minute they were riderless with a startled neigh.
Ausocitin groaned lightly and scrunched his brow. The rock was hard and unrelenting beneath him and had done nothing particularly helpful to soften his fall.
The prick of a knife dug into his jugular and his eyes flew open with a gasp, blurring slightly before focusing on flaming blue chips of ice and a cascade of silver locks. The bewilderment that had previously glinted in his eyes was uncharacteristic with the malice that seemed to seep through his very breath.
The ellyn panted and Thranduil pressed his knee over the ex-advisor's sternum, making movement a painful ordeal.
Ausocitin discreetly reached his hand to his belt, curling something into his sleeve.
"Well?" Ausocitin said with a sneer on his tongue. Breaths still rushed in and out of his lips. "You have me now, don't you?"
Thranduil did not respond and debated his predicament. His first priority was to take the Ring. From there, he could bind the ellon and begin the journey back to the stronghold. But there was something about this place that gave him a hunch... The feeling he got from these mountains; jagged cliffs and the daunting aura— it was strangely familiar, though he could not precisely place it...
"You have questions for me, I am sure, tithen pen," Ausocitin said, shifting slightly and grimacing at the pressure on his chest and bite at his throat.
Thranduil indeed had questions.
"The vials. The exploding ones you used for to destroy the Nandor settlement; what are they?"
The ellon smiled slyly. Or perhaps it was just a smile. Any expression looked sly on his face with those dark, dark eyes.
"Ah, yes. Clever little things are they not? It took a bit of tampering on my part, but it was delightful when my ministrations finally took effect. Dragon bones are mighty heavy, mind you."
"But there are—" Thranduil began but cut himself off immediately. Dragon bones. A corpse. The only possible slayed dragon was the one that he had killed, several centuries ago...
Ausocitin's smile spread across his face as the gears turned in the king's mind.
It all hit at once.
Dragon. It was in the Grey Mountains. The map in his father's journal of that very place. The note that marked the hypothesized location of the Ring. Dragon bones... Dragons were evil. His father was right.
"Is that where you found the Ring, then?"
The look on the restrained ellon's face shifted into something akin to a tutor looking upon their student with enamor, though it was crazed and made Thranduil's heart clench. He slowly exhaled; there was nothing to fear from this ellon.
Ausocitin adjusted his sleeve with a glint of emerald and silver flashing on his finger, pushing the object farther into his cuff. The trees were too far away now to be any help.
"Yes, yes I did. Thanks to Oropher's little map, I will add. But of course, you knew that. It was a bit messy, getting it out of the Serpent's ashes," he added as almost an afterthought and a gleam in his swimming eyes.
Upon mention of the journal, Thranduil pressed the knife into the es-advisor's skin, on the brink of drawing blood. "Give it to me."
The ellon looked comically surprised, brows raised and voice mocking. "What was that, tithen pen?"
Thranduil grit his teeth. "The journal. Give it to me."
The dark eyes narrowed to mere slits, venom dancing on his lips as he wet them and pretended to ponder the request in an exaggerating manner.
"Hmm. What would you do if I said no?"
Thranduil spoke without thinking. "I'll kill you."
His brows lifted and he watched the Sinda coolly, looking uncomfortably too composed for his current position.
"Will you now?" He asked in a silky voice
Thranduil said nothing and simply glared unflinchingly, hoping to gain the upper hand in this battle of wills.
A sinister smile lit the ellon's face. "Then; no! No journal for you, tithen pen."
Thranduil froze. He had called out the bluff. He could not kill this ellon. He had been sane once, before the greed for power took him and the job was set in stone by the tainted influence of the Ring. Where did it all start, I wonder? How can one of such high stature fall so low?
"What's the matter tithen pen?" The smooth voice returned, slick as a snake slipping into a child's cradle. "Too cowardly to take a life?"
Thranduil's eyes hardened. An orc, no. A fellow kinsman, yes. Yet was Ausocitin still a kinsman? Or had he become an orc in elf's clothing? Was there yet redemption to be seen somewhere down an arduous road? Or was his mind settled in a dark hole so that it had dragged his súlë down with it?
"I see," the ellon said, intently watching the conflict play out on the Sinda's face. "You hesitate to kill me because I am of the Eldar, such as you. And yet you did not give a second thought to the people of Dale and Erebor when they fell to thier fiery fate. Is your life truly worth that much more than theirs?" His voice lowered in volume.
"Now, Thranduil, tell me this, are not all living things sacred? What would you rather have had? Your life or everlasting strife between the peoples? You know what it feels like to burn. Think of all the children in the cities. The women; just as your queen. Had you needed to wage battle on Smaug to keep her alive, would you have done so?"
Thranduil's eyes dimmed and he lowered his head, flinching with nearly every statement. He's trying to unseat you. Stay strong, do not sway—
"Ahh. I see how it is. Now all your petty excuses of 'save my people' and 'Smaug cannot be defeated' are nothing but chaff in the wind. You have done it once before and succeeded with less than a quarter of what we had with all the peoples put together. I do not recall a hesitation from you to march out against the orders of your father and king or 'preserve the people' when you went to doddle around with the Serpent in the North.
"What would Oropher think of you now, hm?"
Adar would have— he— But Thranduil knew exactly what his father would have done. However rash and foolish it might have seemed; and that is not what Thranduil himself had done.
Oropher was a good king; what does that make me?
"You may know what it's like to burn, Thranduil, but I saw what had been done to Esgaroth and Dale and the quiet settlement massacred from your meddling. Bleeding children stumbling about, homeless, alone. Weeping women with nothing left but ash to mourn over—
"That is when I told myself, no more. No more of this madness. A king who has done nothing to prevent this has no right to have a people. I would overthrow you and stop this.
"Those mercenaries out there, Thranduil, are not waging war and causing destruction out of nothing. However you may wish to think it not; Edain too have value and courage and character. They had every right to come upon you and force you to your knees in suffering just as their loved ones suffered while you stood by and did nothing!"
Thunder rumbled in agitation as lightning flashed the clouds in the sky violet.
Juststopjuststopjuststop, oh dear Valar he's right—
"Why do you hesitate now, tithen pen? What's one more city burned to you? What's one more life taken?
"In the end, you see, you are just as much a kinslayer as the ancient Noldor princes bound to thier Oath. Yet you have no Oath, nor a curse of everlasting darkness, do you? All living things are kin; they all share the same world.
So, in the end, Thranduil, how much different are you than the thrice-cursed kinslayers of old? In the end, you are no different than the ones who killed your mother."
Ausocitin narrowed his eyes and hissed, "Who's the villain now?"
The words cut. Deep. His limbs trembled and his composure wavered nearly as much as his world was reeling right now.
Even then, looking into Ausocitin's dark eyes clouded with the dark taint of the Ring, Thranduil could not convince himself that every word the ellon had spoken was wrong.
Was he the villain, truly?
Thranduil studied the being before him, pressed into the gravel under his knee and knife. Those eyes were dark but they were not enslaved. He needed to get the Ring as far away from Ausocitin as possible. He was still an elf. He could come out of this.
"Give me the Ring, Ausocitin." He hated the way his voice trembled.
The ellon narrowed his eyes, scowling. "I would not bestow upon you the means of which you shall have more lives nestled in the palm of you hand, lyg!
"If you do not recall; this Ring was used to fortify the gates of the stronghold. Should you destroy it, so shall be the fate of the stronghold as well. I will not permit any more death!"
Thranduil's hearth froze as ice seeped through his veins. He had forgotten. What was he supposed to do?!
Anger burned his face and he shot back with a heated retort.
"What then do you call your little maraud on the western Nandor settlement?! I saw the destruction there! You are no less of a murder than I am! You shot an elleth at point-blank under the illusion it was me and for that I will never forgive you.
"What of the elves killed in the Edain's attack on the stronghold? What of the harm done to my commander! He was a mere orphan with no one left but his sister. It would be a miracle if she has not faded already!
"And what of my son and the harm inflicted upon him? Do you not think I see where this is going?! I have told you this once and I am telling you once again; an insufficient ruler I may be, but a fool I never was!
"You seek to throw the blame on my shoulders and reconcile my death as you take up the king's mantle, proclaiming to all my shortcomings."
Yes, shortcomings. I was never meant to be king from the very start. My rule has caused nothing but death and darkness in our home...
More thunder. Another flash. The wind whipped their cloaks.
Ausocitin's cheeks were flushed with furious heat.
"I was forced to demolish the settlement for the people to see! They need to waken from thier mindless trance and see who you really are!"
"You acted as me under an enchantment! How can you call that honest prodding? Have you forgotten the deaths you caused when 'awakening the people from thier trance'?
"Give me the Ring afore all else falls to ruin."
Thranduil let the blade bite into the advisor's throat, trying to grasp his wrist and wrench the Ring from him.
Ausocitin let the object hidden in his cuff fall into his palm as he brought up his arm and smashed it into Thranduil's face.
Fire exploded in Thranduil's eyes and he screamed, throwing himself backward to evade the agony burning through his skin to his very bones.
A milky white fog had erupted from the orb Ausocitin had burst to throw off his opponent. The ex-advisor had been ready, though, and covered his eyes and tried to backpedal and shield himself as much as he could from the powdery cloud of poison.
Blast it! It was the spiked fog bombs Denisale had planted during as sabotage during the Edain's charge on the stronghold. It seemed an age ago.
Fumbling for his water skin, Thranduil had succeeded in popping the cork off with his teeth, getting a minimal amount of the dust into his mouth as possible, and proceeding to spill the entire contents over his face.
The sting lessened dramatically and the Sinda wished the same relief could be brought to his lungs. His breath rasped painfully in his throat with every intake.
He had unsheathed his sword just in time to catch Ausocitin's blade from splitting his head open.
A drop of rain splat on the tip of his nose.
They regained their bearings, Ausocitin forcing Thranduil back into a small valley in between the rocky spires of the Mountains to escape the cloud of white fire that lingered in the air.
They struck and parried and twirled and leapt about each other in a lethal dance, the sky rumbling its war-cry and lightning glinting off their dancing swords like the flicking tongue of a snake.
The ominous energy intensified. Another flash of lighting sliced through the murk of the night, revealing a small stack of unmistakable crates; more Dragon Dust; Ausocitin was storing extra up here.
It was ingenious, really. Push him into the explosive vials so that no body would be found for any with an opposing opinion to Ausocitin's rule. It could look like an accident; they were alone.
Dead men cannot speak nor plead their case.
Thranduil needed that Ring. They needed to get away from here.
Ausocitin was fighting a losing battle. It did not look too down for him right now, but he was not skilled in the ways of battle, nor would he be able to outlast the Sinda in strength. It was only a matter of time until he was overpowered.
He climbed up a small slope that was a fallen piece of the precipice above to gain higher ground to gain at least a bit of an advantage. It wavered and shifted underneath him. He cast an anxious glance to the crates behind him.
But of course, Thranduil was a warrior and knew exactly what the scheme was. He jumped onto the rock beside Ausocitin, sword poised.
The rock shifted beneath his feet. His arms flailed to establish a semblance of balance.
Ausocitin took the chance of the small hesitation and struck downward with as much strength he could muster. Thranduil barely ducked under it, causing the force of the blow to sent the ex-advisor careening forwards.
The Sinda wrenched his wrist as they traded places, but was unable to unclench the ellon's fingers so as to slip the Ring off.
He growled in frustration.
Thunder ripped through the sky and he jerked suddenly, sweeping his foot out to topple his opponent.
Ausocitin fell backwards closer to the crates, banging his head on the stone as consciousness fled him.
The rock beneath them tipped dramatically under the sliding weight on an unseen fulcrum, sending the ellon rolling limply for the crates.
Thranduil screamed and lunged but it was too late.
The vials erupted with a bang that rivaled an earthquake. Thranduil was hurled backward by the power of it, flying clear across the valley they had been fighting in and off the edge of a ravine that flanked the mountains glowering from above.
The stronghold... Oh Legolas forgive me.
His body met rock and the gaping maw of darkness swallowed him whole.
oOo
A ray of early morning light broke through the drab choking haze above.
A shadow with an intimidating wing span rolled across the site of destruction.
Blood soaked a small spot on the rock amongst the now-soggy shards of wood strewn about the valley. A vibrant green circle encircled the blotch of blood but nothing else was spared in the mess.
The young man's words echoed through the young Eagle's mind.
Find the king, find the king, find the king.
The Eagle peered down into a ravine cracked into the separation between the spires.
There; a flash of silver.
The Eagle descended, the biting cold of the damp morning wind ruffling its feathers.
A limp figure. Vibrant hair pooled about his head, disturbingly stained red;
The king.
Gingerly curling his great talons around the limp body, the Eagle once again took flight to the single elf traversing the forest in a beeline for the Mountains.
He found found the king.
oOoOoOo
A/N: Yay! Some long overdue fluff for y'all. I know I've been naughty and posted other things but the good ol' Block came to visit this story in particular and I finally found a sledgehammer and smashed it down in one sitting. Boo yah xD.
I knew this was going to be a difficult chapter to write since the very moment I sketched it out but it's finally done and I do hope I got it right. I wanted to flesh out Ausocitin's motives a bit here and try to take away at least some of the 'cliché insane villain' vibes I've been giving off this whole story.
Before anyone asks, yes he's dead, and yes the Ring was destroyed ;P.
Thank you all for your support!!! It means so much more than you may think!
(Next and possibly last chapter will come soon as I have been anticipating writing it since I plotted this out! :D!)