I know things seem a bit out of place right now in my story! Thanks for hanging in there with me :) For those of you how have been with me throughout my last book, you can attest that my plots tend to build rather slowly! And after you read this please do not rush to review and tell me how this is not what happened in the book... I am creating a world that is all my own with the help of some familiar faces.

For my guest reviewer: I think that you might have been silverarrow! Needless to say please do not break your phone! Thank you for the lovely review mellon nin! And for catching my spelling error! I have many! And I am also sorry to tell you that we are leaving Estel where he is for a couple of weeks! But I am sure everyone is used to that by now ;)

Thank you elvenmaia for sticking by my side through thick and thin! You truly are the best!

And a massive thank you to silverarrow for commenting on every chapter I the week that I post it without fail for a whole year now! I am honored you have stuck with me for so long :)

In Times of Trouble

Scribbles-on-Parchment

April 24, 2021

Chapter 6 – A Brother's Cry

The sound of Kélion's cry tore through the halls of the royal quarters causing the soldiers who stood guard to instantly draw their swords expecting an attack to be taking place at that very moment. Several of the ellyn tasked with protecting the king raced toward Thranduil's chambers to see to the Sinda.

Meldir and Êmand had not even waited for the wail to die down but instantly took off running in the direction the cry had come from, Legolas's private room. By the time both ellyn came to the familiar oak door, their swords were drawn and their hearts were filled with dread at what they might find inside.

The door was not fully closed and Meldir wasted little time in barging into the prince's room. He entered with such force that the wooden door slammed into the wall behind it with a great boom. However, the Silvan commander was not concerned in the least with this as he was too focused on the two figures who lay on the ground by the window.

For one horrific moment, Meldir thought that he had just stumbled upon the dead bodies of both of the princes, but to his great relief he saw that Kélion was merely sitting with his brother in his lap, golden head bowed over the both of them. The crown prince's body was trembling like a leaf in the wind and he did not seem to notice the commotion his cry had caused.

"Kélion?"

The Sinda did not seem to hear his friend's voice but stayed as he was.

"Mellon nín?" Meldir tried again as he knelt down by Kélion's side, "What has happened? What is wrong with Legolas?"

There was a short silence yet again until the crown prince at last rose his head, seeming to finally realize the ellyn standing guard protectively over him.

"Why…" Kélion started to say but was abruptly cut off by several frantic questions from Êmand.

"Legolas? What is wrong with him?"

The older Silvan elf who had been a mentor to the youngest prince, seemed to almost fling himself down beside the two Sindar and instantly reached for the elfling's pale hand. Judging from the vacant and almost haunted look on Kélion's face and the frantic mannerisms of Êmand, Meldir had a horrible sinking feeling in his heart.

The Silvan commander drew closer to the brothers and his eyes instantly widened as he got his first look at the Greenwood's youngest prince.

He was dead.

Êmand knew that something was wrong even before he walked into the room. As he set foot in the elfling's chambers he suddenly felt a horrible sense of emptiness as though something had just been abruptly torn away from him. Yet he did not fully understand what the feeling was until he set eyes on the still body of Legolas; then everything had fallen into place. His little elfling was dead. The feeling he had felt was Legolas's joyful and innocent presence being ripped away from him from his súlë, leaving in its stead an empty hole.

This was what he had expected to feel when he had first been told that the young prince had died, but it was instead what he was feeling now.

Êmand had let himself fall to his knees next to the princes, a cry of anguish starting in his heart. His very soul felt as though it had been ripped out of him in a single moment. This was ten times worse than before, for this time it felt real. He could see the pale face of Legolas and the sightless blue eyes staring up at the ceiling; there was no life left in the young ellon - there was no breath left in his lungs.

The Silvan mentor reached out and grabbed onto one of his charge's lifeless hands and felt a tear slip unbidden down his face he felt the cold flesh. How could this be? Legolas was alive and well not but half an hour ago. What had led to this?

Êmand squeezed Legolas's hand hoping, praying for the fingers to move at least a little, but they did not and instead remained limp in his hands. The young prince would not be coming back this time. The ellon was sure the elfling's soul had departed Arda and was finally free from the misery and pain that lingered on in the world of the living.

Legolas was at peace.

But this thought did not comfort Êmand in any way. Instead the eldar began to feel an overwhelming sense of anger.

"Who did this?" The Silvan's voice was shaking in fury as he looked around at the royal guards who still stood stunned at the door to the room, "Who did this?!"

None of the soldiers responded and instead just looked at one another with wide eyes. They had failed in their duty to protect Thranduil's son. An assassin had managed to slip passed them somehow and bring death to the royal family. This was an unforgivable act that the king would surely have their heads for.

Êmand rose to his feet as the silence persisted, a blazing fire of anger fueled by years of sorrow and loss, erupting in his eyes and causing all of the guards to step back at the look of pure hatred in them.

"Mellon," Meldir's firm voice cut through the tense atmosphere of the room, "Calm yourself. You have no proof that it was one of them and you are too full of emotion right at this moment to think clearly."

But instead of calming the elf lord down as had been intended Êmand instead reached for his sword and took a step towards the royal guards who all shrank back in fear.

"Êmand!" Meldir was now on his feet, standing in front of Êmand, "Baw! I cannot let you do this. If you proceed in your anger then you shall regret your next actions for the rest of your days. You are threatening to attack one of your own kin whom you do not is guilty of this horrid act. Stop what you are doing for just a second and think!"

Both ellyn stood staring one another in the eye, hands resting on their blades, a righteous anger burning in both of their faces. A fight appeared inevitable until a loud voice boomed from the doorway,

"What is the meaning of this?"

The king had just arrived.

Kélion, for the first time in his life, could not seem to be able to grasp what was going on around him. Everything seemed to have dulled to a haze and he felt as though he had just been thrust back into a horrible, dark dream. He could hear the voice of Meldir and Êmand calling out to him, but he could not find the words to say anything. It had only been hearing his adar's voice ring out loudly in the room that had seemed to snap the crown prince out of his daze.

All eyes in the room immediately turned to the king, who stood tall and proud in the doorway gazing at the scene before him with a cold, hard look on his face.

"Ada," Kélion tried to keep his voice as steady as he could as he continued to hold the body of his youngest brother, "It is Legolas. Someone…" The Sinda's voice trailed off for a moment as he saw a flicker of fear pass over Thranduil's face, "Someone has killed him."

At this the entire room went deathly still, the only sound was that of birds singing outside of Legolas's open window. Open window…

Kélion turned his head away from his adar's pale face until his gaze rested upon the large window that was standing wide open, allowing sunlight and fresh air to blow freely into the room. Why was the window open? Had it always been open?

"Leave us. Êmand, go and fetch the healer Narril as quickly as you can."

Thranduil's commanding voice had suddenly lost much of its fierce tone and a slight tremble could be heard.

"But my king, we do not yet know if the room is safe. The killers could still be…"

A threatening look from the Sindarin king quickly put an end to the soldier's argument.

Kélion did not even bother turning his head back around to watch the small gathering of eldar leave the room in absolute silence.

Thranduil could not take his eyes off of his youngest son's limp body. The sightless eyes staring up at the ceiling, the ghastly paler of his skin - yet the thing that the elven king noticed most was the loss of the bright glow of the eldar that always had surrounded Legolas. It was gone.

To all accounts the elfling looked to have already passed into the Halls of Mandos.

Yet as Thranduil knelt beside Kélion he could still make out the faint light shinning deep within the dull orbs of his youngest son. No, Legolas was not dead - or at least not yet.

"Adar I am so sorry," the crown prince's voice was overflowing with emotion, "There was nothing I could do. He was dead when I arrived."

Thranduil said nothing as he gently reached over and lifted Legolas into his arms. As the cold skin touched his own, he shuddered at the memories that suddenly flooded his mind. He had seen this before, yet he had never imagined he would ever have to see it in one of his own sons.

Legolas's mind and very soul were being attacked by some dark force that had effectively trapped him in his own mind. The elfling's inner light had withdrawn to try and offer some shield to his soul against the overwhelming force. If Legolas ever were to awake again from this paralysis than there was little chance he would ever be the same. Most likely his soul would have already given up the fight long before and surrendered to the darkness, letting it consume him.

Thranduil felt a tear fall down his cheek as he thought of the terror and hopelessness that Legolas was enduring at this every moment, for he had experienced the very same thing.

FLASHBACK

"Thranduil where are you?"

The young Sinda smirked as he heard the voice of his mentor calling for him. The prince glanced over at Tamír as his face broke into a wide grin. That old, stuck-up elf would never dare to look here in the king's chambers for him. He would be safe from the eldar's constant hounding - at least for now.

"Thranduil where in Eru's name are you? I must speak with you immediately; it is urgent. This is not the time…"

The ellon's calls died away as he moved further down the hall.

"Do you not think that you should see what he wants?"

Tamír looked concerned at the prince who just shook his head.

"No, that old elf probably only wants me to do something for him or to give me more work."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," Thranduil smiled again at his friend, "Now where do you think that my adar keeps his wine? I have heard it is the best in all of the Greenwood."

Tamír just shrugged and continued to look worriedly at the door to the king's chambers.

"Are you sure we should be doing this?"

"There is nothing wrong with what we are doing," the young prince was starting to get annoyed, "If anyone comes in I will just tell them that…"

Thranduil's voice suddenly faltered as his face went deathly pale.

"Mellon nín are you alright?" Tamír's forehead was wrinkled in concern as he saw the princeling's body go tense, "What is wrong?"

But Thranduil was too lost in the waves of hatred and darkness that were crashing over him to hear his friend's question. It was exactly as his adar had described it to him.

Panic began to fill his mind; why was he being given control over the barrier now? He was not ready for it. Why was his adar not…

Then a realization struck the young Sinda. He would only have been given control over the barrier if his adar had lost the ability to care for it. In a blind terror Thranduil reached out frantically for the connection to his adar. Yet this time the strand of light that had always been there when he needed it most was gone.

He was alone.

Tamír could only watch as his friend crumpled to the ground at his feet, the light of the eldar vanishing from around his body. He let out a cry of fright that echoed around the large room. However, there was too much commotion out in the hall for anyone to notice the young Silvan's cry, for the king had just been killed.

Elvish Translations:

mellon nín – my friend

mellon – friend

baw – no

adar – father

súlë – spirit