The hall descended into chaos.
"The prince! The prince has been poisoned!" The elves cried. They rose and swarmed the high table until Cúthon stood and ordered them back.
"Away!" He shouted. "Give me room to see to him! Fetch the healer."
Charlotte was tumbling into madness. The guards encircled Legolas, separating her from the prince, though Lothuial and Cúthon remained within their protective boundary. She tried to push past them, to squeeze her body into the narrow space between the guards, but was rebuffed.
"Easy!" Haedirn shouted as the guard shoved her away. "You'll hurt her!"
If Legolas was dead… Charlotte's heart plummeted to the stone and shattered. Her little leaf. Cúthon gently pulled Legolas from his seat and stretched him across the floor.
He was limp and still, lifeless as they moved him.
The first hot tears burned down her cheeks. Not Legolas. Sweet, kind Legolas, who had already been through so much, who was brave and gentle despite the pain he'd suffered. She felt the heat blossoming on her neck and clutched the stone tightly in hand. The guards fidgeted in front of her, but she lacked even the focus to glare at them.
Cúthon pressed his ear to Legolas's chest before placing the back of his hand beneath Legolas's nose.
Thranduil! He was in the north, far from his son, fighting for the life they were finally going to have together. He would be destroyed by this.
The necklace burned brighter.
Cúthon's face twisted, his mouth dropping in surprise. He shook Legolas roughly, "Prince Legolas!" Legolas did not move. "Prince Legolas!" He shook him again, harder.
A sob escaped her mouth as she watched his head loll around the floor. She pressed her hand over her lips until she felt she couldn't breathe. Maethor squeezed her shoulders and pulled her against him.
Cúthon stood, his stony glare settling on her. "Seize her."
"What?" Charlotte's body turned cold, and she stepped backward into Maethor as the nearest guard surged forward, wrapping his hands around her arms and flipping her so her spine pressed against his chest. "Let me go!" She slammed the back of her head toward his nose, but he dodged. Stomped on his feet, but he lifted her into the air. She thrashed, kicking the table over and sending their dinner across the floor. The plates smashed into pieces, the goblets creating a discordant clanging.
A fist flew past her head, nailing the guard on the cheekbone, and she stumbled into Maethor as the guard dropped. Haedirn stood before her, his dagger drawn. "Do not touch her again."
"What title do you have?" Maethor asked, his voice rising until all of the hall could hear him. "What power do you possess that gives you the right to detain an emissary of the Valar?"
"By my right as Steward of Eryn Galen in the ruling king's absence," Cúthon cried. "I order the arrest of Charlotte Anniuel for the attempted murder of His Highness, Prince Legolas, by means of sorcery."
In the far back of the hall, Idhrenes appeared at the top of the kitchen stairs and was promptly blocked by two guards. Charlotte could see her berating them and demanding they move.
Cúthon turned his attention to the assembled elves. "She has enchanted our prince! Cast him into the same curse she has laid upon our river and our people! Will we stand idle at this attack on our realm?"
Grumbles arose amongst some of the elves. Others, the ones who still proudly displayed her white flower, gazed at her with confusion. Cúthon must have noticed he did not have their full cooperation. "Look! Even now, she wields it. See how it glows!" He pointed to her faded stone and seethed at her, "You will not bewitch us all. I am the sworn defender of the realm in the king's stead. Remove the necklace and place her in the dungeon to await judgment!"
The guards lurched for her again, but Haedirn lifted his dagger. "You will not touch her," he vowed.
The nearest guard snarled at him. "I trained with you as an elfling. We have guarded the realm together for centuries, and you would slay me to defend this creature? Behold your prince!"
"I will stand here fulfilling my vow to defend Eryn Galen," Haedirn said.
"As will I," Maethor swore, pulling his own dagger.
Cúthon frowned pitifully. "Try not to harm them," he said to his guards. "She has wrought her ill magic on them. I see now the darkness that seeks to twist their fëar. Perhaps, with time, they can still be saved and rejoin their kin."
The moments after were a blur. Maethor and Haedirn worked in tandem, ducking and parrying, feinting as they moved against the waves of guards. Charlotte had yanked her dagger from her boots and prayed she didn't lose the letters tucked in her sleeve. Prayed that Legolas would be alright. That Maethor and Haedirn wouldn't be harmed. That she wouldn't have to hurt anyone else.
A guard slipped past Maethor and Haedirn and reached for her. She didn't hesitate this time. She drove her knee up between his legs and used the blunt end of the dagger to knock him out.
Elves fought with honor. She would not.
But where she felled one, ten more were waiting. Maethor and Haedirn, skilled as they were, could not fight all of them. Especially not once she was disarmed.
Her two loyal guards froze at the sight of her clutched in a guard's grip, her arm painfully twisted. Amroth's dagger glinted against the stone, a good foot from her, but the well-honed blade of the Woodland guard pressed sharply into her neck.
The sound of Maethor and Haedirn's daggers hitting the stone reverberated through her bones. Two Woodland guards swooped down on the ellyn and pressed blades against their necks.
"Remove her necklace," Cúthon ordered.
She felt the ellon tugging at the clasp, yanking on it and choking her when it wouldn't separate. "It won't come off, my lord," he said. He yanked it again.
"You're hurting her!" Maethor inched closer despite the dagger at his throat.
Cúthon ignored him. "Remove it," he said to Charlotte. He lifted his chin toward the guard holding Maethor, and Charlotte screamed as the guard pressed the point of his blade into Maethor's skin, just enough to release a thin trickle of blood.
"Stop!" She reached behind her neck with her free hand to undo the clasp. Her fingers fumbled, clammy and struggling to grasp the tiny connection. Her captor released her second hand, but the blade at Maethor's neck pushed deeper. The necklace fell cold and dark into her fingers. "Do not hurt them."
"I won't," Cúthon said. "As soon as you hand over the necklace…" He gestured to her guards, her friends and protectors. The threat hung heavily in the air.
She dropped the necklace into the guard's hand without hesitation and the gleam that stole over Cúthon's eyes as he claimed it scared her more than anything he'd done so far. Still, Maethor's captor eased his hold.
"Lock them up," Cúthon sneered, dismissing them with an indolent wave of his hand. His attention was firmly squared on the necklace and the stone it held.
The guard holding her kept the blade pressed to her neck. "Walk," he said, though she couldn't tell if it was directed at her or her guards. He kept a firm grip on her hair as he marched her down the aisle between the watching crowd of elves. She turned her head as much as she could, frantically searching. Where was Ellavorn?
Idhrenes was still screaming at the guards blocking her from the hall. Charlotte craned her head around, feeling the sting of the blade on her neck, and nearly vomited watching Cúthon place the necklace around Lothuial's neck. The elleth winked at her as she was dragged away.
However, a small dash of hope filled her when she noticed the wispy blonde elleth flitting amongst the guards. With three quick flashes, Charlotte and her guards' discarded daggers vanished into the folds of Sídher's gown, and she swept away as if she'd never been there at all.
"Move," the guard barked, nudging her onward. They rounded the corner and nearly slammed into Meluieth.
"Charlotte?" She asked, stunned. "What is the meaning of this?"
"Meluieth!" The relief Charlotte felt nearly overwhelmed her. "It's Legolas. Meluieth, he's poisoned him." The guard dragged her away, and she threw herself against his arms, the sting of the dagger against her neck. Her captor cursed, but Charlotte screamed for Meleuith. "You have to help him! Don't let him hurt Legolas! Meluieth!"
Something heavy slammed into her head, and she felt the world tilt. The last sounds she registered were the shouts of rage from Maethor and Haedirn.
Charlotte woke in the dark with a groan. Her brain was three sizes too large for her skull and pounding for more space, and a sharp ringing filled her ears.
"Charlotte?" The voice was frantic. "Charlotte, are you awake? Come on, wake up. Please, wake up."
She groaned again, her head lulling on the floor. Drool dribbled from the corner of her mouth, and the small puddle smashed beneath her cheek had grown cold on the stone. "Maethor," she grinned and then frowned. Her eyes struggled in the darkness. "You need to hold still; you're making me dizzy."
Maethor sighed, sounding pained. "I am still."
"Then why are there two of you?"
"Can you crawl to me?" His brows were lowered in concern, and his fearful eyes studied her form in the darkness. "Come on, you can do it. That's it."
It hurt. Her brain was throbbing inside her skull, and she fought the urge to hurl as she clawed her way across the stone. Luckily, it was a short distance to drag herself to the bars separating her cell from Maethor's. He shoved his hands through to grab her as soon as she was within reach, and then his gentle fingers were shifting through her hair and poking her head. She hissed when he found a particularly bad spot.
"That traitorous—" He cut himself off with a growl. His teeth were clenched so tightly she could see the muscle in his jaw leap. "He could've killed you."
"Is she alright?" Haedirn's voice sounded so far away. Charlotte whimpered and sagged against the iron bars.
"It's alright. He's on the other side of me," Maethor soothed. He kept his hand wrapped around hers as he called out to Haedirn, "She's awake, but she needs a healer."
"Cúthon's a raging asshole," Charlotte muttered and pressed her head against the cool bars.
She heard Haedirn snort from his cell. "I think that'll be my new favorite if we ever get out of here," he said. "I don't think Thranduil will be back in time to save us from this."
"Thranduil…" Her brain groggily came around and then popped into place. "Legolas!" She sat up, and the cell spun. Acid rose in her throat, and she fought to blink away the spots in her eyes.
Maethor pulled her back down. "Easy," he said. "He hit you pretty hard."
"Bu Leglas," she slurred. "Mmph"
And she descended once more.
Charlotte woke to more shouting.
"I am currently the Head Healer of Eryn Galen, and you will allow me access to the prisoners as is the law set under King Thranduil."
"We're under strict orders, Meluieth," a voice said. "No one is to enter or speak with the prisoners without Cúthon's permission."
"I do not require Cúthon's blessing to do my job."
"We cannot risk their release."
Meluieth scoffed and viciously said, "Why would I release the creature who cursed my hanar? I vow to you, she will not leave this cage by my hand."
"Then why are you here?" The guard sniped. "Leave them to rot."
"My task is to heal. I watched you nearly spill her brains on the floor of the entrance hall," Meluieth said. "If that is not sufficient enough reason for you, how pleased will Cúthon be when he arrives to question her and finds her dead?"
There was a heavy silence for a moment and then a frustrated sigh. "Very well, but we are locking the door behind you."
Hinges creaked as the great iron door guarding her small cell swung open, and the soft swishing of Meluieth's skirts was drowned out by the clang of it hitting the frame and the ominous click of the lock.
"Do not linger," the guard warned.
"Go," Meluieth said. "I will call when I am ready to visit the other two."
Charlotte forced her swollen eyes to open as the guard's footsteps receded. The cell was still blessedly dark, though she could see Meluieth's outline in the light pouring in through the bars from the lanterns in the corridor. Her head was on something soft but too thin to be a pillow, and her hand was still tightly gripped in Maethor's.
"Can you help her?" He murmured.
Meluieth swept closer, and Charlotte rocked back at the tears that covered her old friend's face. "I am so sorry," The elleth whispered, dropping to her knees in front of Charlotte. Her shaking hand gently brushed Charlotte's hair away from her face. "We don't have much time. Drink this." She shoved a thin vial into her hands and forced it up to her mouth. Charlotte downed it all in one go, fighting the churning in her stomach that tried to resurface it.
And then Meluieth's hands were weaving through her hair, searching through the darkness for the wound the guard had inflicted. Charlotte hissed when she found it. "I'm sorry," Meluieth whispered. "I'm so sorry."
A sweet smell hit her nose, and she groaned as Melueith smeared a goopy paste across her scalp. "This will help," Meluieth said. "I promise. Rest. Don't let her up, Maethor. This is one of Lord Elrond's concoctions. She should feel better in about an hour. If not, apply it again." She pressed a small jar into his hands through the bars. "I don't know if they'll let me check you both as well."
"We are unharmed," Maethor said solemnly.
"Excellent," Meluieth said. "Charlotte? Charlotte, focus on me for a moment. I know it's hard."
Her blurry eyes locked on Meluieth's watery face. "Mmhm?"
"You're going to be alright. We're going to get you out of here, I promise. We're going to fix everything. Somehow."
"Where's Leglas?" Charlotte asked. "Ishe safe?" Her tongue felt too big for her mouth. She squeezed her eyes shut, running her tongue along the bumps and tiny gaps of her teeth as if refamiliarizing herself.
"He's safe," Meluieth said, though her eye twitched. "I'm doing my best to keep him asleep. He is young, and the herbs seem to last longer on him than the adults."
Charlotte's fuzzy brain had no trouble conjuring images of him flailing and screaming on one of the hospital beds, alone and confused and drugged. The first sob sent a wave of pain through her head.
"Shhhh," Maethor said. "He's going to be fine. We're going to get you out of here, and we can fix this." He squeezed her hand and ran the other gently through her hair.
"She'll be a bit disoriented until that medicine gets through," Meluieth said softly. "Emotions might be a bit wobbly as well. It should clear up soon. If not, you have the paste. Apply it again. I'll see if I can get them to allow you food and water. If I can't, I know someone who can."
"Thank you," Maethor whispered.
"Don't," Melueith said, shaking her head. "I owe her this and much more." She turned to Charlotte. "Stay safe, mellon nîn. We are fighting in the shadows for you."
She swept to the door and shouted for the guards, who quickly released her. Sure enough, they refused to allow her to visit Maethor or Haedirn, stating that they were fully conscious and unharmed upon arrival and that had not likely changed since they'd been imprisoned.
"You heard her," Maethor said softly. "Rest. I will rouse you if there are any visitors or news."
Her dreams were filled with shadows and growls. Something tried tugging her, again and again, but she fell, wispy and amorphous through its grasp. It grew frustrated with each attempt, and her mind drunkenly laughed and laughed as it floundered, until with a great burst, the shadow retreated.
After that, she was left only with snippets of nightmares: Legolas lying unresponsive on the floor, Thranduil crouched over him, Cúthon smirking at her as faceless guards descended, and the imprint of an elk pressed into green wax.
For once, she came awake suddenly, with a sharpness to her mind that was instantly followed by rage.
"Seriously?" She hissed, sitting up and testing her head gently with her fingers. "Why's it always have to be the head?"
Haedirn laughed from his cell. "She's back."
"Any weakness?" Maethor asked. "Dizziness? Nausea?"
Charlotte squeezed his fingers," 'No' to all of them. Thank you both for taking care of me." Her brows furrowed, and she asked, "Did I dream that Meluieth came?"
"She was here," Maethor said. He handed her a small jar, and when Charlotte opened it to find the sweet-smelling paste, the memory swarmed her.
"I had to apply it again. You've been in and out for a few hours," Maethor said softly, "so take it slowly."
But Charlotte was already rising to her feet. She didn't think it was entirely the head injury that forced her into slumber for so long. How long had Mairon— She shook her head. The elves called him "Sauron." How long had he been trying to yank her scrambled consciousness to Aman Lanc?
She paced the short length of her cell, trying to figure out a way to free them. "What are the chances that someone has sent a message to Thranduil?"
"Cúthon is likely guarding the ravens," Haedirn said. He had pressed himself against his bars so he could see them both. "If he's sent anything at all, I would be surprised."
"Can you reach him?" Maethor asked. "I know you both can talk."
"I don't know." Charlotte bit her lip until she tasted blood. Thranduil was miles away from her, and his mind might be closed and for a good reason. A distraction at just the right time? She could accidentally kill him. But maybe she could test the connection? See if she could at least feel him? "We've never been far apart when we do it. I'm always within a few feet. I can try though."
Her eyes fluttered closed, she descended into her fëa, tried to push it outward into the forest. Pain exploded in her skull, and she clutched her head and gasped. Her body fell, crumbling to the stone.
"Charlotte!" Maethor and Haedirn threw themselves against their bars.
Still, she tried to push past it. Legolas was in trouble. He needed his adar. Her lungs heaved, and she pushed harder, sluggishly flitting through the trees, stumbling her soul north. She lost herself in the song and was swept away until the Misty Mountains rose high above her and a great stretch of grassland billowed before her. Find me, she begged, pain wracking her skull. She dropped her head to the stones.
Something warm, like sinking into a hot spring, brushed against her fëa, and she moaned.
Thranduil.
There was a hum of sound, almost as if he was trying to speak to her, but she couldn't decipher the words.
Thranduil, Legolas is in danger. He's enchanted. Cúthon has imprisoned us. Send help…
Could he even hear her? The warmth brushed against her, and then the connection snapped like a rubber band, leaving her moaning on the floor.
"Grab my hand," Maethor said. "Reach, Charlotte."
She cracked an eye open and saw him lying on his side against the bars, his arm shoved through the gaps until his bicep was trapped between the iron. She dropped a shaky hand in his and closed her eyes. "I'm fine. My brain is a bit fried right now. I think I found him, but I'm not sure. Everything was so fuzzy, and I don't think he could hear me." She sighed and blinked her heavy eyelids. Her following words fell like a stone between them. "I think we're on our own."
Translation:
Hanar - brother
AN: Thank you all for your lovely comments! They mean the world to me! I can't wait to hear your thoughts!