Chapter Eight: Cirith Ungol

By Ellwyn J

Stairs. There were a countless number of stairs that led to the top of the black tower. Ellwyn could only stand and stare at the jagged uneven steps, awestruck. It seemed that the stairs were the final step in her journey, yet they seemed so long and endless. Perhaps those steps were crying out for her to turn away. She could almost see wailing faces reflected in the fading hue of the meager sunlight that reached towards the mountain pass. Then she realized, as a sudden chill swept over her, that the faces she thought she could see were the faces of the men, the elves, the creatures that had been tortured and destroyed by the evil that lurked in and around this tower. She shuddered involuntarily and the faces disappeared as the grey haze covered over the yellow face of the sun, leaving the mountain pass covered in lifelessness. It's hopeless…I may never find my father in that tower, nor will I be able to confront him. What would I say to him when I saw him? What is to keep him from having his servants kill me the instant he lays eyes on me, or sell my soul to the dark lord in return for power just as he did with my mother?

Finally she sensed movement to her right side and she tore her petrified gaze away from the foreboding tower. Legolas had stepped forward and turned back to look at her, as if waiting expectantly.

"What do you wait for, Ellwyn?" he asked, questioning her with his soft eyes.

She shook her head and finally found a reply. "I cannot be sure that my father is waiting up there for me…he knows we are here. I do not know what will happen when I go."

The handsome elf at her side nodded understandingly. "Boe angen nad bell," he told her. "You must be brave."

Ellwyn nodded and made an effort to smile reassuringly at him, but he could still discern the anxiety in her eyes. He held out his hands to her and she took them, stepping forward as she did so. They walked towards the archway of the tower where the stairs began. But just before they reached the entrance, a dozen or more Orcs sprang out of hidden crevices in the rock nearby and surrounded them, barring their way to the foot of the steps.

Legolas cursed under his breath in Elvish and felt around for his quiver and bow, but with a sinking heart, realized that his weapons were still in the hands of the enemy. The Orcs closed in on them. One, Ellwyn recognized to be the leader of the Orcs that had brought them from Northern Ithilien to the mountain pass behind Minas Morgul. It tilted its head and made a snarling sound at them both.

"What is going on?" she demanded in the Orc-tongue, absentmindedly fingering the chain at her neck, as if ready to pull out the amulet she shared with her father to prove her sincerity to the creatures.

The Orc laughed at her again, making them both cringe at the sound. "Master ordered it to be so. The elf," it paused to growl at Legolas, who was standing rather restlessly at her side, "stays here. Master says, we obey."

Ellwyn shot a wary and hopeless glance at Legolas, which he returned. He quickly took her hand and squeezed it reassuringly as the Orcs moved towards him, brandishing their weapons. "Reno, boe angen nad bell." Remember, you must be brave. She swallowed visibly and felt a growing suspicion.

So her father was, indeed, here. But she did not have Legolas with her to face him. She had never thought she would have to face him alone, the man that had turned from loving father to a traitorous murderer; she could not face him without the one who had protected her for the entire journey and had continuously given her strength when she needed it. With Legolas, she felt secure, as if she was not susceptible to anything that could possibly harm her. His presence felt like a warm, protective blanket that wrapped over her like his love washed over her when she was in his arms. She could already feel that warmth dissipating as the Orcs bound the struggling elf and pulled him away from her.

"Remember!" he yelled just before he disappeared into a swarm of Orcs, "be brave, be strong, Ellwyn! They will not harm me. Im anneg." I am with you.

He faded away into a darkened cavern nearby, and the Orcs gradually spread out around the mountain pass, going about on orders, no doubt, from their Master who dwelled in the top of the insurmountable tower. Now only the Orc she spoke with and two others remained with Ellwyn. They stayed away from her, clearly not wanting to harm her against her father's orders. Legolas is right, she told herself firmly, I have a destiny to meet. She clenched her jaw and began to ascend the stairs.

* * * * *

The darkness was overwhelming, and it was cold: there was a strong draft blowing through the inside of the tower that bit into her face. She wished her cloak had not been still draped over Phaere when the Orcs had taken her and left the horse in the fortress of Minas Morgul. Ellwyn wanted a light, now more than anything, and wished fervently that the three Orcs skulking behind her would keep their incessant footsteps from echoing so loudly against the steps and walls.

It seemed she had been climbing forever and her legs felt as if they would drop off with each step, but finally she could see the top of the tower where the roof dropped out to reveal the grey sky beyond. The air felt thin at such a height, or at least she felt it to be thin, for her lungs were straining in the stank air around her. She squinted into the lightening darkness and saw a small door at the top of the stairs.

Ellwyn felt that she walking in a dream, because her head felt so light and everything she heard was an echo: their footsteps ringing, the sound of her rapid breathing, the door thundering open from the inside just when she was about to timidly push it open, startling her so that she almost fell backwards against the Orcs behind her. She forced herself to look up slowly, but when she did, she found a dark haired man who could have been, but was not, her father. He had a sallow, thin face, yellowish eyes that glared back at her, and his hair hung in thick, soiled strands. He wore tattered black clothing and bore an Orc blade at his side. The man was silent, studying her pale face for quite some time, before he spoke. His voice had an icy, ruthless tone that made her shudder inwardly, and he spoke coyly, as if attempting to bend her mind to him.

"So you are the one," he said, "that the Master has forbade to touch. It has been many years since I have seen another of our kind…the look in your eyes says you are from the Long Lake. I have not forgotten that land…" he paused and his eyes seemed to roll back into his head as he thought, "yes, many years since I have seen one." He began to eye her rather hungrily, and Ellwyn backed away in terror, her mind racing, her heart pounding furiously in her chest.

But as she moved back, her hair fell and changed its arrangement just enough so that the sallow-faced man could see her ears. He backed away in a sudden fear, his face twisting into a scream that he did not voice.

"You…" he croaked out, "one of them…Master warned us about your kind."

Ellwyn finally found her voice, and she spoke quietly. "No doubt because the Elven people tried to avenge the brutal murder of one of their maidens. But I do not wish harm," she lied, "to the people of my father." She spoke her words with an involuntary trace of scorn, praying he would not notice.

The look of fear mostly faded from the man's eyes, but it lingered there warily. He beckoned to the Orcs barring the way down the stairs. "The Master is in the cavern," he whispered, sounding strangled, "he awaits you there."

She let out a reluctant and frustrated sigh as she brought her gaze down the flights of steps she had finally conquered. She had prepared herself to meet him, only to be told that he waited elsewhere…her stomach twisted at the sight of the drop in the middle of the tower into darkness. If she were to stumble… But she did not want to let herself think of it. Her father still waited.

* * * * *

The man led the way into the cavern that she had seen Legolas disappear into. The cavern was lit dimly by a few torches spread along the walls. They walked along a path against the wall that steeped off into a seemingly endless black chasm that made Ellwyn's heart lurch every time she looked down into it. She peered about for any sign of where the elf was imprisoned. The Orcs passing her on the narrow walkway eyed the man with fear and looked at her with even more. So the news had already spread through the mountain pass that the Master's daughter had come.

They came to an archway that was guarded by two Orcs who stood rigidly, knives in hand. They let the strange procession through and Ellwyn paled suddenly at the sight before them. The man was leading her across a thin bridge carved from rock, narrower than the walkways they had already crossed. It looked as if the black stone would crumble away at their feet. As she hesitated, the Orcs pushed her from behind and she was forced onto the bridge. She forced herself to stare forwards at the double doors they were approaching.

What lay behind the doors made her breath catch in her throat. It was a vast cavern, lighted brightly by torches lining the walls. There were pools of murky water and, she noticed, as her eyes grew accustomed to the sudden brightness, gems sparkling, wedged in the rock walls. It would have been beautiful, a treasure to the dwarf people, if it were not for the air of pressing evil about the place. The Orcs took their places in front of the door and the man stepped aside. Ellwyn looked up and her heart skipped a beat.

There was a tall man standing on the other side of the cavern with his back turned towards her. He was clothed in black garments just as the man standing to her left, but his clothes were thick and rich, not tattered. The sallow-faced man standing to her side bowed low, and pressed his forehead against the ground before his Master.

Her father turned around.

The eyes that looked back at her were dark and beautiful, the eyes she remembered in the deepest recesses of her mind. The face was lined with age but possessed a look of unbearable kindness. Her father looked the splitting image of what she had seen in the waters of Galadriel's mirror. When he turned to look at her, a soft cry escaped from his lips and he looked just as startled as his daughter. Ellwyn could not move. She felt as if her feet were glued to the ground, her legs were turned to stone, and her mouth had completely dried out. She stared at him incomprehensibly.

Then he smiled. It was a smile that radiated warmth and fatherly love to her. She felt her heart suddenly lifted of its burden and tears came to her eyes. He stretched out his arms to her. She wanted to run into his arms and feel the loving embrace of her father just as she had so many years ago. And she would have, if not for the small warning lingering in the back of her mind. She had seen the image of this time, this place, before. She knew what would happen if she went to him. But he looked so different, so much like the father she remembered. She felt her legs could move again, and slowly stepped towards him.

She was only a few steps from where her father waited when she heard a shout from outside the doors and many footsteps clattering against the stone. Ellwyn turned away abruptly in the direction of the door. Several shrill Orc cries were heard and then they faded away, as if the Orcs had fallen down that dark chasm. Then the doors burst open and she inhaled sharply. Legolas stood in the doorway, framed by the darkness behind him. His bow was drawn but lowered, his eyes were ablaze with hatred. But then he saw Ellwyn. Legolas' gaze flickered from daughter to father, then from father to daughter again. He stared at the scene before him: the tall, dark-haired man standing with his arms outstretched, the girl only a few steps away, and the small thin man nearest him, crumpled in a heap on the floor.

This all took but a moment and the Orcs standing sentry suddenly drew their weapons at the sight of Legolas. But they were too late, having been taken in shock, and all three were killed; Legolas fired a swift and deadly arrow at the largest one and drew his knives to hew through the necks of the remaining two in one fluid motion. Then he stopped and stared with widened eyes at Ellwyn, breathing hard, holding his knives at his sides readily. She stared, just as astonished, right back at him.

And then Ellwyn was suddenly reminded of her father standing behind her by a squeal from the servant near the door. The thin man shrieked suddenly, "Master! They will betray--" but he was cut short by an arrow released from the elf's bow, which lodged in the small space between his eyes. He fell back with a sickening thud as Ellwyn turned around, slowly, cautiously. What she saw made her want to scream, and she backed away in terror until she was pressed against a nearby wall.

Her father's face had twisted into an evil grin and his eyes were a pale white. Just as the mirror had shown her. Why had she been so foolish as to actually believe he would be changed? He was the master of this place. Ellwyn felt a sudden weight and had the feeling that she and Legolas did not stand a chance, being trapped so easily deep within the walls of the black land.

Her father turned to glare at her. "My beautiful, beautiful daughter," he said in the most bone-chilling voice she had ever heard, "you are too much like your mother. It's a pity you did not take the hand I offered to you…for you would have been given power, more power than you could ever dream of. But you have inherited the streak of that hideous Elves' blood from Thuwen. Sauron had forewarned me of your treachery. But I refused to believe it. I thought, for a moment, that you would not have to suffer the same fate of my dear, beloved Thuwen…"

Legolas suddenly screamed, "No! Ellwyn, you must--" But her father raised his hand suddenly, drawing upon the dark powers bestowed upon him by his lord. A great barrier of force collided with the elf and threw him violently against the wall. Ellwyn watched in horror as Legolas slid limply to the ground and her father turned towards her.

Email: jidai_rinoa@hotmail.com

All names, places, or plot/history affiliated with LOTR are entitled to J.R.R. Tolkien. The rest is from my imagination. If there are any errors in the history/land/names of anything related to Tolkien's works, please inform me.

Author's note: Don't you just love cliffhangers? (muahaha) I'll put up the next chapter very soon, I promise. Thanks to all my avid readers for being patient with me and for all the lovely compliments! J