Chapter 7
"What is this?" Thranduil asked his son, staring at the parchment that had been handed to him. His voice was full of disbelief, and anger.
"A single demand," Legolas replied calmly. "For an unbiased sentencing to be given to the one you deemed a traitor."
The king looked at his son in amusement, he seemed to be daring the younger elf to follow through with his plan. Legolas looked steadily back at his father. His eyes held an almost sad look as he met his father's eyes.
"Just what is your plan, young prince," the king asked formally.
"The Lady Glaldriel had been sent for. She will be the judge," Legolas began.
"No doubt already told of the situation from your point of view!" Thranduil mocked.
"Actually, we told her nothing except that it was a matter of great importance," Fëaeledh supplied from where she stood behind and to the right of Legolas.
Thranduil shot her a look that was full of disgust and she involuntarily stepped back a pace. The king was getting frustrated that he could not find fault in their plan to rescue the traitor.
"So be it," he spat. "We will have your trial. But do not expect me to be happy about your defiance."
With a wave of his hand he dismissed them. Before they could leave, however, he stopped them, a gleam was in his eye.
"But she must not know. Not until the trial begins," Thranduil said with a smirk, determined to thwart their help as much as possible.
Then he dismissed them once more.
---
Fëaeledh made her way down to the dungeons. Perhaps she was not allowed to tell Pennanto the plan, but she could offer hope. The door opened with much less resistance than before.
A single torch was burning high on the wall, though it had been burned down low and provided only flickering light.
"You're back," Pennanto observed.
She was sitting with her back against the wall. Her legs were drawn in close to her body and her arms were wrapped around her knees. She sat in a patch of light that the torch provided. Fëaeledh walked over to her friend and knelt on the dirt floor beside her.
"You look terrible," she commented, becoming concerned as she saw the state her friend was in.
Pennanto's skin was ghostly pale and her hair hung in dirty strands around her face. The natural glow that surrounded elves was very faint around her. She had a look that spoke of being haunted by death in her eyes, and there were dark circles around them. The gauntness of her figure frightened Fëaeledh. Pennanto had only been there for three days, and she was fading very quickly.
"Pennanto, what's happened to you?" she breathed, her eyes were wide with her fear.
Pennanto drew a great shuddering breath to answer, and broke down into body-wracking coughs.
Thoroughly terrified by her friend's condition, Fëaeledh fled the dungeons to find help.
---
She was not watching where she was going. Fear kept her going, propelling her in an unknown direction. Her flight was stopped short when she bodily ran into someone.
"Lord Elrond!" she gasped as she was gently but firmly pulled away from the person she had nearly knocked over. "What are you doing here?"
"We followed Pennanto. We were hoping to stop her before she arrived, but it seems we arrived too late."
"Not too late, my Lord," she assured, "but nearly, she has fallen ill. It has fallen fast and worries me. I fear--I fear her spirit has lost all hope."
Fëaeledh's hazel eyes filed with tears. "Do you think you can help her?"
"Perhaps," the lord of Rivendell said gravely. "But I am not sure she can accept any help offered. Not if she has lost all hope."
---
|Merry Christmas, y'all!! This hasn't been edited yet, so I may repost it later...we'll see!!|
"What is this?" Thranduil asked his son, staring at the parchment that had been handed to him. His voice was full of disbelief, and anger.
"A single demand," Legolas replied calmly. "For an unbiased sentencing to be given to the one you deemed a traitor."
The king looked at his son in amusement, he seemed to be daring the younger elf to follow through with his plan. Legolas looked steadily back at his father. His eyes held an almost sad look as he met his father's eyes.
"Just what is your plan, young prince," the king asked formally.
"The Lady Glaldriel had been sent for. She will be the judge," Legolas began.
"No doubt already told of the situation from your point of view!" Thranduil mocked.
"Actually, we told her nothing except that it was a matter of great importance," Fëaeledh supplied from where she stood behind and to the right of Legolas.
Thranduil shot her a look that was full of disgust and she involuntarily stepped back a pace. The king was getting frustrated that he could not find fault in their plan to rescue the traitor.
"So be it," he spat. "We will have your trial. But do not expect me to be happy about your defiance."
With a wave of his hand he dismissed them. Before they could leave, however, he stopped them, a gleam was in his eye.
"But she must not know. Not until the trial begins," Thranduil said with a smirk, determined to thwart their help as much as possible.
Then he dismissed them once more.
---
Fëaeledh made her way down to the dungeons. Perhaps she was not allowed to tell Pennanto the plan, but she could offer hope. The door opened with much less resistance than before.
A single torch was burning high on the wall, though it had been burned down low and provided only flickering light.
"You're back," Pennanto observed.
She was sitting with her back against the wall. Her legs were drawn in close to her body and her arms were wrapped around her knees. She sat in a patch of light that the torch provided. Fëaeledh walked over to her friend and knelt on the dirt floor beside her.
"You look terrible," she commented, becoming concerned as she saw the state her friend was in.
Pennanto's skin was ghostly pale and her hair hung in dirty strands around her face. The natural glow that surrounded elves was very faint around her. She had a look that spoke of being haunted by death in her eyes, and there were dark circles around them. The gauntness of her figure frightened Fëaeledh. Pennanto had only been there for three days, and she was fading very quickly.
"Pennanto, what's happened to you?" she breathed, her eyes were wide with her fear.
Pennanto drew a great shuddering breath to answer, and broke down into body-wracking coughs.
Thoroughly terrified by her friend's condition, Fëaeledh fled the dungeons to find help.
---
She was not watching where she was going. Fear kept her going, propelling her in an unknown direction. Her flight was stopped short when she bodily ran into someone.
"Lord Elrond!" she gasped as she was gently but firmly pulled away from the person she had nearly knocked over. "What are you doing here?"
"We followed Pennanto. We were hoping to stop her before she arrived, but it seems we arrived too late."
"Not too late, my Lord," she assured, "but nearly, she has fallen ill. It has fallen fast and worries me. I fear--I fear her spirit has lost all hope."
Fëaeledh's hazel eyes filed with tears. "Do you think you can help her?"
"Perhaps," the lord of Rivendell said gravely. "But I am not sure she can accept any help offered. Not if she has lost all hope."
---
|Merry Christmas, y'all!! This hasn't been edited yet, so I may repost it later...we'll see!!|