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Chapter 41, Aspen Shoot
The forest wept.
The King was slipping out of its reach on the monstrous bluff on the mountain's eastern side. It was a silent battle. No swords were clanging, no one was shouting obscenities. It was a war inside one soul.
All of nature has been deprived of the King and the Queen of the Forest. The governorship of the forest had been almost concluded, but in grief, they have been sagging through a long row of painful years.
One cannot blow air into one's nostrils once it is gone.
The one who should have become the King of the Forest had abandoned the guidance of the woods; therefore, the only hope left for the forest was the son. If the boy were to marry, perhaps, he and his bride could complete all of existence, but the hope proved to be unavailing. By the Law of Inheritance, the boy could not receive the Crown of the Forest if his Father did not accept it first. Only the King can present the crown to his heir, but if there is no King of the Forest, no one can be the successor.
The forest would not give up on its children, though. It took the softest handkerchief of an old man's beard hanging on a spruce branch and wiped its tears with it.
It would fight.
The evil rampaging here now was mighty. In the forest's veins flowed memories of all sorts of ancient manifestations of darkness, and it could not recall anything like this. This hit the spirit of woodland people - and therefore, it needed a significant counterforce.
Woods whispered, the trees swayed, the bluebells jingled as the forest gathered its forces. The army of the forest was led by gentle breezes of the southern wind. It called the rainbow of butterflies of all sorts for its warriors. Birds and all land animals were gathered for the troops, and finally, a tiny tree sprout was assigned the most perilous mission of them all, to be the vanguard of the Battle of Steep Bluff.
The evil was powerful - and it was born of stone. Thus it could not be beaten by a greater force but a softer one. The army of nature was born of calmness - it fought with a tenderness that evil creatures could never concede.
The only way to conquer this sort of evil was to touch her black core with a breeze of love. Of course, the devil would not turn to the righteous path, but it could be just enough to petrify its heartless void so that the forest people could escape from its pull.
The army was ready. One more thing was needed - the beacon. The beacon ought to be lit, for evil was not to win.
Thranduil would have been the supreme King for the woods because only the best suited him, but that was precisely the problem. He always strived for perfection, and if the evil deeds against him would expand too enormously, he might not be able to resist the lure to make the evildoer suffer.
But the forest army was ready to meet its enemy.
The darkness had been gliding across the clouds. Along the thinnest branches, it had jiggled into the core of the forest, and its only purpose was to suck all life into itself. This could not be allowed to happen to the children of the woods. There must be a way to bring light to one who ought to become the King of the Forest. If only he saw the beacon's illumination and accepted his part as the Ruler of the Forest. If only he hearkened to the call of the forest and found the truth.
He needed to find the willingness to accept the Crown of the Forest. He was obliged to see what the world would be without Goodness - innocence shall show him the way. Then, the Beacon of Essence shall lead him to the right trail, and the little tree sprout shall guide him out of the prison he is about to create for himself.
And finally, he must see the Maiden of the Forest as she should be.
If her chastity was not enough to guide him into life again - nothing would, and the flowers would continue withering. The monster would grow and cast the everlasting gloom into the world.
On the mountain slope, stood one sorceress, one elf holding a vial in his hand - and a miserable creature that once had been an elf. What he was now, the forest did not know, but for that being, the vial was intended.
The vial held poison - not to kill the beast but to imprison his soul.
The elf held the vial and in his eyes remained only a trace of untarnished rightness. If he managed to feed the contents of the vial to the victim, everything would be lost.
The forest held its breath until it saw three elves and a wizard running towards the inexistent bluff that somehow was floating by the mountainside, hidden from all the world.
All the world, except the world itself.
The forest waited until they were close enough to begin to wonder if they were altogether in the wrong place, as they did not see anything. The flitting emotions went through their eyes when they were on the edge of the Ylvätär's illusion and tried everything to find an entrance.
The Forest Army was now potent enough and hailed all its troops to join the battle.
All of nature heeded its call and rushed to aid the forest people. With the help of a battalion of Greylag Geese, the forest finally succeeded in opening the curtain of delusion for the incoming people. Gangs of boisterous birds flew to and fro, and the gate of truth was presented to them.
The air of safeguarding shields twirled around the elves and the wizard as they stepped into the witch's delusional bluff. Behind the walking creatures flew the spirit of the forest - as wind, it twirled around the whole place and summoned the entirety of nature to fight beside it.
All living spirits heeded the war cry and gathered around the battlefield.
"Get out of here!" the witch yelled when she saw the elves coming with the wizard. Her eyes stirred with confusion - no one should be able to get here. Could the wizard be more powerful than she had anticipated?
Without thinking, Tauriel took an arrow and aimed it at the wreck of an elf - Lokowid. If an elf could fall that low, she would not wish to be one anymore. She wanted to die.
Tauriel was certain the witch would not allow her to kill the worm, but perhaps Tauriel herself would be dispatched and thus would get freed of this corruption.
As she had anticipated, her arrow never touched the skin of the bastard but bounced away before it hit him - as well as two other arrows. All three arrows transformed into small rocks and dropped to the ground. Tauriel lowered her bow - and Sulrochil and Legolas followed her lead.
Ylvätär stood beside Lokowid and grinned. "You cannot kill him!"
Do it! Ylvätär thought, glanced at the King and touched her ring. Pour the poison into the scumbag's throat! The evil ring felt another ring close by - a tinge of fear brushed its surface. Ylvätär saw the golden ring on the dinky little elf's finger and halted. Could that silly trinket be this powerful?
The vial did not move.
Ylvätär raised her ring finger high in the air and swayed it lightly. Nothing happened, and now she saw it was not the ring, or even the wizard, that held her back - but the forest wind.
The birdbrain that once had been an elf - she refused to call him by any name anymore - had failed in everything. How had he managed to omit this truth?
He did not fail, the Spirit of the Forest whispered so that only the sorceress could hear its words. He never gained knowledge of my powers because, without the Ruler of the Forest, my leadership was not complete. Until then, no one knew about my legacy to the fullest.
The Ruler of the Forest does not exist! Ylvätär responded to the Forest.
Today Thranduil almost accepted his fate as the King of the Forest and spoke to me, and I was revivified, the Forest declared.
The Spirit of the Forest was gaining more serenity at each moment. It had touched the King's heart today, and it would not give up on him.
The forest army was softening more at every moment as all spirits of nature let go of fear. The terror could not intrude their heart anymore when they shrugged off the remnants of dread and crocheted thin threads of faith as white handkerchiefs of peace. Soon, it would be gentle enough to defeat the Evil Ring.
Ylvätär was still in the lead, though.
If the vengeance blinded the Elvenking enough, he would force-feed the venom to the victim. If no one could stop him from doing that, it would be the end of one world, but also the beginning of another - Ylvätär's. All elven balderdash would flow away from this world, and she would salvage it for her own purposes.
What would be good would be suitable only for her purposes.
What would look like love would be the love of her kind.
Should she win, the world would turn upside down. The men would continue living, but their souls would worship her. The elves would still love, but all love would be distorted. It would not be love towards all good but towards all twisted.
It was all up to the King. Ylvätär could not pull him without his consent. On the other hand, the Forest could not do it, either.
The choice would be his.
But the Forest had felt the willingness in his soul earlier today, and it had been enough to revive the forces of nature. The kindness of the Forest Army rippled in the air as it surrounded the demon. It fastened the ring firmly to her finger and made it impossible for her to attack the children of righteousness.
The Forest would not surrender.
Without moving his head, Legolas looked in every direction and weighed all his options. Something strange was in the air - Sulrochil was convinced of it. Killing the evil creatures was not possible, but it was suspicious that the witch was not doing the same to them. "Why are you not killing us?"
"To kill is bothersome," Ylvätär said and let her eyes sweep his body up and down. "To love is much more intriguing."
"She does not kill us," Mithrandir began and walked between the witch and Legolas to cut the sordid eyesight. A wave of approval swooshed through the wizard, and all sorts of exceptional powers made the air jitter. Now the wizard became aware of who was the true counterforce here. The Forest did not let the evil kill the elves and he showed his gratitude to the Spirit of the Forest by an invisible bow but continued to appear as oblivious as before, "Ylvätär does not kill us because she needs us as living beings."
The real battle was inside an elven soul, and the wizard had no reach into that realm. He had no understanding of how the Forest would fight, but what it instructed him to say now was apparent. Mithrandir took a couple of steps closer to the King. "Thranduil, my friend, please tell us why you have the vial."
"It is the drink of fellowship for us all," Ylvätär spoke and grinned from ear to ear.
"She is lying," the King said. "This is poison. Those two are behind the murder of my wife. This is for the worm."
"You do not want this," Mithrandir whispered. "Please, put the thing down. Can you not see she is using you?"
"You are a fool, wizard," the King said. "I have intended to do this since the beginning. I know what I am doing."
"You have not planned anything," Mithrandir said. "It is them who have outlined each step and made a trap for you! See, Sulrochil is here, and she is intact - they did not manage to do what they intended. Ylvätär wants you to torture Lokowid - and if you do it, you shall be nothing but her slave!"
The King partly lifted his hand to silence the wizard and cast his eyes on Tauriel. "But what are you doing here?"
Tauriel's heart was jammed. Her whole being ached for purification from all this filth. Her love was broken. Her trust in goodness was gone. Her belief in justice was wavering, but she still had faith in Lady Galadriel's wisdom. She had never been wrong. "Lady Galadriel sent me here. To fulfil my destiny."
Tauriel's eyes locked to the vial. Did becoming a beacon mean to drink it? To gulp the poison and burn in hell?
Thranduil raised the vial to toast. "I see, you have heard there exists an obscure witch here, and you wondered if she might turn you into mortality. You finally could die and meet the same destiny as the half-size, oh pardon me - it is thoroughly inappropriate to refer to one's appearance - I mean, the half-wit you happened to love? You must have toyed with that notion in your mind all these years?"
The King turned to look at Ylvätär, "Perhaps you could satisfy her desire to die for good?"
"Certainly," Ylvätär said and elevated her ring. "It would be my pleasure."
"That is a lie!" Mithrandir thundered and moved to stand between Tauriel and Ylvätär. "No, one can do it. You are nothing more than a chain of deceptions." He turned his eyes to the King. "Thranduil, do you not see it? Ylvätär is trying to trick us all."
Not even seeing Sulrochil safe and sound had been enough to turn Thranduil away from the path of vengeance. Ylvätär had made him taste revenge, and now that he was so close to his victory, he would not give up.
"Now, let us hear what the young lady has to say," Ylvätär said and waved her arm towards Tauriel.
Tauriel closed her eyes, trying to find the right words, but she had no words of wisdom. The King was correct - she had agonised over the matter for sixty years. She had nothing to offer to the King except to drink the poison if needed, and were she to open her mouth now, out would come only the plea to pardon her from this world. Screaming, she would run to Ylvätär's safe haven if she uttered even a single word now. Of course, the witch's promise was false - just like the wizard had said - but if it was her last hope, she would do it.
She dared say nothing.
"O, Father Forest, burn me!" Tauriel silently prayed. "O, Mother Earth, kill me and let me go. Let me become dust, let me become mulch. Let me die and become one with the earth. Let me go and meet my love - in nothingness."
For altogether too short a time, she had been allowed to keep her loved one with her. Now redefining herself was impossible, but the Forest would not abandon its children, "It is the brokenness that makes you perfect," the Spirit of the Forest whispered. "Trust your love. Trust me. Your love for Kili prevails. Abandon ye trust never!"
Tauriel froze. "My heart became an open wound when he was ripped out of it."
"His spirit still flows through my veins," Forest hummed. "His soul is the morning mist you always adore, and when you buried him in the woods, he grew as part of the forest. As earth he became, and through the thinnest of our roots, he ran into me."
"Still, after all these years, I feel his absence as hard as it happened a moment ago."
"You gave his soul into the forest wind. As part of this forest, he has become. He was not one of our people of origin, but through love, he became one of us. He lives in your heart and in the forest. You can see him in a floating oak leaf, in the sturdy root of the pines, in the trickly bear moss. He is in your soul, thus he is everywhere. Let him live forever through you. If you live, so will he."
The seed had been planted in her heart sixty years ago. The seed died, and the earth must break to give new life.
"If you disappear, so will he," the Forest rustled to Tauriel. "If you deny your love, all will be in vain. You must live and let love wash your soul."
"How?"
"You need to find new meaning to yourself and let love explore new paths. Do you want him to live forever?"
"Aye."
"Then live forever and let him live in your heart."
"Can it be that simple?"
"If you let love weave the unravelled threads of your soul into something new, that shall be more stalwart than anything you ever had. If you want him to live forever, you need to live forever and let him dwell in your heart. Can you do that?"
"I have love. It does not fade."
"Let that love flow out of you and into the world. Trust me, and you can be the beacon for grieving people."
"I have nothing to offer them!"
"The beacon does not choose when it is lit, Lady Galadriel said. The beacon does not even know she is the chosen one."
Tauriel blinked her eyes wide-open and saw everyone waiting for her reply.
"Love prevails. Therefore you can be the creature of love even if your loved one is killed," Forest whispered and took a torch of enlightenment.
A bear thumped through the forest, and Tauriel knew who he was.
Forest sent a whistling storm to administer the skies and be prepared to strike the evil when the time was right. Finally, it thrust the blazing torch into Tauriel's heart.
The soft eastern breeze flowed through Tauriel's hair - and she felt him in the air. "Elves are a people of love. My love for Kili is overly mighty, and I have mourned when he was gone. I have walked through the moors of sorrow and wondered how I can ever be a creature of love if my loved one is dead. I have questioned whether I can be an elf anymore after this."
Far in a distant land, a river rushed against the rocks. White-water splashed as the rapids surged through a dead land. A new path was found for the river, a new stream was born in one elf's soul.
The world would not be grey forever because, from the ashes, something distinguished was emerging.
Tauriel was not alone anymore. Here he was, right in the middle of her heart. Alongside the Forest Army, his spirit was prepared to fight for justice.
The tree roots underground gave strength to Tauriel as she spoke. "We are elves, the creatures of love. If we love, we are us. If we love, we fulfil our purpose, but how can one do so if the other is gone? The forest has spoken to me, though. It said, if I live, love prevails. Love stays forever within me only if I let it be."
Tauriel took a couple of steps closer to the King and kneeled in front of him. "Be the King of the Forest, become what you are meant to be. Accept your part, and let the forest dwell in your soul. Become the King this forest yearns for. Be the King for our people, who long for the true King of the Forest."
She rose and drilled her gaze in the King's eyes. "Aye, I would have chosen otherwise if I had been given a choice beforehand. Should you have asked yesterday, I would have gladly met my last day in this world, but now I shall not give up. All the oaks tell me that my love remains only if I live."
She spread her arms wide and swung her head to let her hair catch the wind that held true love. "This is me. I am a part of these forests. I have been born in an oak forest, and forever my soul is entitled to live in its calm. Only if one accepts their destiny, can they find peace of mind. You are full of hatred. Please, let it go and choose peace. Only then can you be free to love."
"What do you know about love?" Thranduil asked.
"Now I see. It is not hatred but grief."
"Oh, and you must be the master of grief then?"
"You cannot compare the extent of grief to another's. Each of us has a different destiny, but I do know this. I love Kili deeply, and I feel his willpower lingering in this forest and giving me strength. All I can do is transform unfulfilled love into something new - into something fruitful so that my love will not be destroyed. You have lost joy-"
"What did you expect?" Thranduil said. "Extreme happiness, perhaps?"
"Joy is not the same as happiness. You can be unhappy, and you may grieve, but still, joy can dwell in your heart because we are creatures of love. Let love wash the anger and hatred out of your soul. We are elves - children of the forest. Our Mother shelters us, our Father shields us, and we can let love flow through us. If someone has died, the love can still prevail if the other stays strong and does not let the love end."
"You are in despair," Tauriel continued. "Turn your eyes from the darkness of your soul to the brightness of the sky. Watch the dance of the butterflies and honour the beauty of giving a helping hand to the needy, and you shall meet hope. Search for your beacon to guide you to the truth. Become the King of the-"
"Silence!" the King said. "Stop this nonsense now!"
Sulrochil was stunned in admiration of Tauriel's speech. She had felt that the Forest had spoken to her a moment ago - but the extent of the message surprised her. When she had mentioned the beacon, her eyes had shown a meaning Sulrochil did not understand. But somehow, they should help Father find his beacon. "Father, you lost direction when Mother died," she tried.
"My purpose is clear."
"You could have abandoned everything to chase your foe already in the beginning, but you chose to be a good father and a good king. You are a creature of love. Without you, Legolas would not be the elf he is now. Choose forgiveness."
"There is no reason to forgive. They took everything from me."
"When you forgive, you do not set them free, but yourself. You do not forget nor accept what they did. You set yourself free from their desecration."
"Whether I forgive or not, it does not bring Glaneth-," at that moment, the King paused for the shortest of moments, but Sulrochil knew what he silently added, "-back."
"No, but it will bring you back." And it will also bring your daughter back. She shall live in your heart forever if you let her. Did you not hear Tauriel a moment ago? The beacon has been lit, and now Sulrochil realised who it truly was.
"I do not have any inclination to forgive."
"I know," Sulrochil said. "Forgiving is against everything you know to be true. It is not wise. Actually, it is foolish to just let it go like that."
"Why do you insist on this poppycock then?"
"Because Ylvätär is the one holding the fishing rod. You are the fish that needs to be set free. It is not enough that you choose not to torture your enemy. You must decide not to hate them."
The King waved his hand in dismissal.
"Thranduil," Mithrandir tried as he sensed they were nearing the end of the King's patience. "Hear me, my friend. You are walking along a perilous path. Do not forget why you are here - you are here because you love. You love your wife and your children."
"Shut up, wizard."
"You think you can imprison Lokowid, but you would imprison only your own soul. Your soul would be trapped in the loop of false joy. Let the wrath pass, let the vial drop onto the ground. You cannot do it by your own will alone, you need to accept help. Take Glaneth's wedding ring - you must have it - and let it shine your love upon evil. Only love can overcome this wickedness."
"Her ring is in the grave with her."
"In the grave," Mithrandir whispered. All hope fled.
"Why don't you go and dig the ring out of the grave," Thranduil said. "Now, shoo, shoo, all of you. Get out of my way while I finish here what I have begun. Go and dig the grave. Oh, and while you are at it, why don't you bring me her skull also and pour me a toast to victory."
He lifted the vial high in the air.
The battlefield was dark.
The Forest called for its warriors to lunge towards the last of the battles. The enemy was still skulking in the shadows, but the beacon had been lit, and it had begun to give out light.
The Watchtower of the Forest had been set in an optimal position, and it had taken the form of a magnificent pine. From the treetop opened an outstanding view of the scenery. The enemy was devilishly beautiful. Her smile reached from east to west, and it hid her evil core.
A small aspen tree shoot rustled. Its tiny leaves were finally so considerable that it was her time to send its very first sighs to the world. The aspen trunks had been severed, but their roots lived underground forever. With enough time, it could grow new life and begin sprouting.
It was the Aspen Shoot that the Forest had called to fight on the frontlines. It was its task to head right into the darkness and fight with the King.
"Father," it whispered. This battle was not to be won with blows and hits. Only kindness could be powerful enough. Only gentleness could overcome evil of this magnitude.
The forest stilled. This was its last chance.
"Do not attempt any ridiculous tricks, any of you!" the King said.
"No one is trying," Aspen Shoot said. "Hear me. I live."
The forest whistled and called the Squadron of Patience. The battle inside one's soul was never straightforward, and it required time and composure. The enemy was vicious. Therefore, it could not be beaten by toughness.
"Stop this," the King commanded.
The evil hit hard on the Squadron of Patience and tried everything to wreck its stronghold, but the Forest did not give up. The squadron consisted of the myriads of chrysalises hidden all over the forest. With their uncomplaining willingness to wait for the unknown, the air was filled with endurance. It was impossible for the darkness to reach their innermost treasures, and slowly it began wavering.
"You shall live forever if you let me live with you," Aspen Shoot whispered.
The King did not look at the little tree, but the wind reached his heart and gifted him with a tiny thread of patience to let it speak.
"I will live forever no matter what happens," he said.
"Perhaps, but you would be a prisoner, confined in the cell you believed you had created for those who wronged you. You came to this bluff to beat the evil by force. One cannot beat evil because it beats you. If you choose to try to beat the darkness, you shall be a part of the wickedness of the world forever. That is not living, it is dying every moment, for all eternity. If you truly wish to live, hear me. You cannot defeat evil with might, you need mildness to end it."
The witch wriggled until she managed to roll her ring a shade and summon demons to dance. Tiny ghosts of unborn babies emerged from the otherworld and began twirling in nightmarish circles.
The Forest expanded everywhere. It slithered in the roots, soared over the treetops, and its singing echoed through the foliage. It was the shelter, it was the life. All the time, the woods called more and more warriors to the battle - and the ghosts faded. All forms of disillusionment yielded before its commandment.
The power of evil was diminishing when the Forest showed its true might.
"I live because your soul is eternal," Aspen Shoot said. "Forever, I shall live if you let me. You are my Father forever if you do not let me go. If you continue the path you are now walking, you disappear. And if you disappear, I am gone with you because I live in your heart. See the Beacon of Love that the Spirit of the Forest lit for you - love is eternal if you let it be. Father, look at me."
He still did not look at the tree, but in the wide sky, he saw a pair of white swans fly towards him.
"Let me be the Maiden of the Forest who dances with butterflies, flies along with the wind, and rides with the ladybugs. Love lives forever if you let it. Father, see me."
The swan couple flew right through Thranduil's heart. Hope and Truth were their names.
Finally, Aspen Shoot felt her Father was fighting along with her against the demons of his soul, and she could proceed with her message, "Be the King of the Forest that the world needs. Take the crown of the forest on your head - only the twirl of forest wind can bring the true crown to you. Wear the ring of the forest - the swirl of the air around your finger. Father, look at me. The Forest yearns for the King of the Forest to claim its realm."
The resistance began to trickle down to the ground from the King's soul, and slowly, he turned his eyes towards the aspen sapling. The beacon blazed, and within its illumination, the ugliness of the witch was exposed. The Truth unmasked the devil, and the Hope showed the right path.
"The ring of evil is dug out of a mountain. It is as hard as a rock. You cannot beat it with force. If you wish to overcome it, you need to succumb to the forest's will and let it reign. Let the forest spirit seep into your heart. Let your own will go, and accept the peace of the forest. Set your soul free and let the forest rule."
The quaking aspen was faint, almost too delicate to live, but it would live if he let it.
"Your greatest enemy is in your soul. The hardest battle is always within our hearts. You cannot find the strength to beat the devil inside you. You must drop all your might and accept the peace of the forest into your soul. Let the forest help because it is the only way you can oppose this evil. When you allow peace to your heart, you can love. And when you love, you shall receive the Crown of the Forest."
Could she live with him? In his heart?
"The forest is lost without its true Ruler. The realm must belong to someone. If it is not you, it will be the wicked witch who gains it. Do you want to let that happen?"
His heart had been smashed, and a little tree had sprouted from the ruins. Would he let the tree live?
The Forest sent its last brigade, a warm forest wind blowing from all directions to wipe all the dark dust out of his soul and let calmness enter the realm of his soul. The sunrise painted the sky in all shades of red and yellow. All he needed to do was take the hand he had been offered.
To win this battle, one needed only to succumb to the Forest's will.
"Father, hear me. See me. You are the root, I am the sprout. Do you want to get to know me? I am here waiting to see you, Ada nin." (ada = dad, papa, nin=my)
Thranduil kneeled beside the aspen sapling. No one could hear what the tiny tree said to her Father anymore, nor could anyone hear his answers, but they all saw his hand reach out and pour the contents of the vial on the ground.
The devil flinched when the defeat struck her core.
When the vial was empty, the King rose up. He turned to look at Ylvätär. Without words, he smashed the vial to the ground. Its pieces shattered all around.
Ylvätär squinted hastily in all directions and made an attempt to flee. The four winds grabbed her legs and arms and held her still in one place.
A slight wind blew. Slowly, it circled the King's head. The Crown of the Forest was nothing but the most delicate breeze of the southern wind.
Then, the flurry found his finger and enclosed it.
The King of the Forest accepted his fate and wore the Ring of the Forest, the faintest puff of eastern wind. The Forest was his now - and he was of the Forest.
Slowly, he raised his arm. The shards rose in the air and turned into butterflies of all colours. The flutter of butterflies enlarged and flew towards the wickedness still dwelling in the forest. When their little wings grazed the evil, it disappeared.
Into nothingness, evil vanished.
The forest welcomed the butterflies into its realm and let the song of joy fill the earth and all the hearts of its children. It rejoiced when there was light in its children's eyes again.
The King of the Forest pressed his palm over his heart and welcomed the Maiden of the Forest to dwell there.
His daughter would live forever.