Chapter 2: Descent
When elves sleep, they do not dream. They remember. In their sleep, they often reminisced upon their long, long past. After all, their lives were longer than that of any mortal; yet, that life passed quickly and sweetly. Elven life was the stuff of dreams. And as Arraleea slept, she too remembered. It was a time long ago; it was one century after Lord Elrond's return when Arraleea was only a child…
"Legolas, I want to go to Mirkwood too!" Arraleea said brashly as she skipped alongside him, as they were passing through a bright little valley on the outskirts of Rivendell.
Legolas looked at her gravely, "This is not a game, child. I go to pay my respects to my ancestors."
"Alright," she stopped and watched Legolas walk ahead. She knew Legolas went every Mid-year's day, but she could not understand why Legolas needed to visit the dead so often.
"Run back to Rivendell and don't talk to any humans," Legolas turned about briefly, "If you're good, when I return I'll tell you what happened to Frodo and Sam."
"And if you're good," Arraleea mocked him with a gleam of devilry in her eye, "I'll tell you what happened to your bow and arrows!"
Legolas cast her a look of astonishment and anger, as she sprinted away laughing. Arraleea whirled past and hid behind an enormous oak tree. From her hideout, she espied Legolas' brown and green slowly fade into the land. Ahead of him, hills rose to the west and a heavily wooded forest flanked the east.
"Don't talk to the humans," She muttered to herself as she left the tree, "Don't do this and especially don't do that. Poor Legolas will never learn."
Arraleea went in the direction of Legolas and was ready to follow him to Mirkwood when she spotted smoke rising in the east. Exotic smells of spice and hickory smoke filled her lungs, and she cried eagerly, "Humans!"
She had always a strange fascination for these notorious creatures. Her father had forbidden any communication between humans and elves, with the exception of the Druids. But she had met them all and Druids were definitely a boring lot. They only wanted to learn about the Elves and revel in nature, and they seemed hardly human. She had never met a real human before, and she wanted to see this greed and treachery that even her father feared. So without any hesitation, Arraleea entered the forest to find the human settlement.
As our young elf maiden wandered lightly among the oaks and foliage, her keen ears heard the distant sound of angry shouts, the thundering of horse hooves, and the howling of wolves in hot pursuit. Suddenly, she saw a young man with a large black book struggling through the thicket. He was a fierce looking lad with tousled blond hair and a scar running down his left jaw. Life had not been kind to him. She watched him frantically pulled his thick, dark cloak from the thorns. In desperation, he uttered some strange incantation, "Corpse and blight, take these thorns and take fli—"
Before he could finish, there was a violent rustling of thicket; an enormous gray wolf emerged from the green, followed by the rest of the pack. In an instant, the hungry gray beasts knocked the boy down, clawed at him, desperate for blood.
Arraleea watched in horror as blood stained gray fur. If she helped this boy, she would reveal herself to a human. She could not violate her father's decree, but she could not let this boy die. A muffled scream awakened her, and Arraleea made her decision. In an instant, the wolves suddenly left their victim and trotted to her like puppies. Arraleea petted the leader of the pack and asked, "Who sent you, Master Wolf?"
The wolf howled in reply, "The men of Rohirrim are our masters now. They command that we kill the boy."
Meanwhile the boy had recovered his senses and watched in amazement. He had never seen an elf, especially one who could talk to wolves, nor had he seen any more beautiful.
"Do the men treat you kindly?" Arraleea continued.
"They feed us, but we are not free," the howl had become an eerie wail, "There is no freedom in the land of men."
"I will free you. Will you help me save this boy?" Arraleea held out her hand.
"Anything for you, Lady Arraleea," the wolf licked her extended palm.
"Then go. Lead the Rohirrim away from us."
As the wolves left them, Arraleea went to the prostrate boy and asked, "Where can I take you to find help?"
The boy stared at the angel and stuttered, "You—You're an elf…girl."
Arraleea concluded that the boy was no longer rational and began cleaning his wounds. She left to find some herbs but the boy called after her.
"No, wait! Where are you going? Come back!" He struggled to sit up.
Arraleea turned back, "I'm going to find help, since you won't tell me where that could be."
"These wounds are but little scrapes," he was bleeding profusely and he wiped some blood off his face with his gray tunic.
The elf gazed at the blonde haired boy and wondered why he would lie to her, "Why do you flee from the Rohirrim? What have you done?"
"I have done nothing," he said, "But the Rohirrim, they have set fire to my village, slaughtered my parents, and now seek to murder every last Drúedain."
"Why would they do that?"
"They accuse us of witchcraft," the boy said bitterly, "We are necromancers, not witches! The Rohirrim revel in ignorance and they kill us for sport. They hate us."
"But you're just a boy," Arraleea said in disbelief, "What do they have to fear from you?"
"They have much to fear. My undying vengeance is something they should fear." The boy grinned mirthlessly, "They fear that I will dig up their ancestors and revolt with an army of undead."
"Could you do such a thing?" the elf asked incredulously.
The boy laughed, "Perhaps with twenty more years of training. All I can do is commune with the dead and even that is very difficult. The dead are not always friendly. Supposedly, the art of necromancy is to learn of the future from these ghosts, but that requires much more experience than I will ever possess."
Arraleea did not speak.
"We necromancers spend much of our time near the dead in cemeteries, crypts, and the basement of churches. Perhaps the Rohirrim have reason to dislike us, but they have none to murder us."
Arraleea was silently trying to understand his words. How could humans kill each other for sport? How could hatred between men run so deep? And this necromancy was quite a morbid magic. She looked at him and was surprised that his wounds had nearly healed. This boy was the human she had been looking for.
"What about you?" The boy noticed her silence. To him, she glowed with unnatural beauty, "Are you an elf or dream?"
"I am an elf," Arraleea affirmed and asked, "I was only passing through the woods seeking adventure. Then, I found you."
"Adventure? I am nothing but adventure," The boy had risen with a confident smile and said, "The Rohirrim hunt with several packs of wolves. Some don't need wolves. It won't be long before they find us again. We must leave this kingdom and head for another."
He took her hand but she resisted, "I can't go with you. My name is Arraleea. If you ever need me, speak my name when the wind blows south, and I will hear your call. I wish I could talk but I must go now."
The sun was setting fast, and Arraleea needed to head home before her father could alert Rivendell of her absence. She backed away from him and receded into the forest.
As she rushed past trees and skipped over undergrowth, she heard his voice echo, "Goodbye! My name is Thanatos..."
Seventy years passed before she heard from him again. She would often sneak into his old village for any news of him or his return, but she found that the Rohirrim had indeed killed all of the Drúedain. She had nearly given him up for dead, when finally she heard him call her name. They met one night under the canopy of a weeping willow and moonlight gently bathed the land. Arraleea remembered Thanatos had not grown much older. Though he was certainly more handsome, he seemed particularly unwell that night…
"Thanatos, I'm so happy to see you! You have so much to tell me and so much to show me. You must take me away and let me see some adventure!" Arraleea stepped towards him eagerly, but he remained shrouded in the shadows of the willow tree. She became suddenly aware of his silence, "Are you ill?"
"I'm fine," he took a step back, "Don't, please don't come any closer."
Arraleea was deeply hurt.
"I'm so sorry, Arraleea," he struggled to explain, "I can explain, but I can't. I have so much to tell you, but I can't tell you."
"Why do you tease me with riddles?" She looked at him beseechingly and noticed how strangely pale and gaunt his face was. "No, can it be? Thanatos, you must explain or I will die of a broken heart."
"Arraleea, will you wait one more night? Then I will tell you everything," he told her, "Tonight, I only wanted to see you once more."
"Do you promise to come back?" Arraleea stared at him in anguish, "I will wait. You know where to find me."
Thanatos reproached himself under his breath, "I should not have come at all. I am such a fool to think that..." and finally he sighed, "Yes, I promise."
"You know I love you…" Arraleea said softly, "And I would do anything…"
"Yes," Thanatos moved toward her nervously, and with trembling hands, he gave her a small ring.
Their hands met for a moment and Arraleea gasped, "What is this? Thanatos, you are as cold as ice! Tell me what is wrong!"
"Nothing," He pulled away and averted his gaze from her soulful eyes, "Nothing is wrong. This ring…is a symbol of my love…for you."
Arraleea's eyes beamed with such infinite joy that she did not notice the infinite sadness reflected in his eyes.
"Tomorrow night," Thanatos told her.
Arraleea awoke to the sound of whispering wind. She was to meet Thanatos tonight as he had promised her. She wanted to find him before he found her to avoid having an intruder enter Rivendell, but her plans had failed. Where was he now? She sighed, laid back on her pillow, and tried to formulate another plan.
Outside, the sound of the battlefield was only a dim roar. Nine cloaked figures appeared on the steps of Arraleea's chamber and the voices of two were slightly audible.
"Are you sure this is the spot? I see nothing but rocks and trees."
"I sense my ring, Thanatos. We are very close," the voice hissed impatiently.
"Must we do this?" Thanatos hesitated, "If the dark-haired warrior elf should find us, he will kill us all."
"I have already taken that into consideration, my child. He is now preoccupied with my minions," there was a pause only broken by a distant demonic screech, "You do realize the importance of this mission."
"Yes, but Master," Thanatos protested, "The elven princess—"
"Silence! No more delays. We do this now."
The leader of the group signaled for them to move forward. They entered Arraleea's room but they saw nothing save rocks and weeds. Suddenly there was a flash of gold from among the rocks.
"Now, Thanatos!" the leader pushed him forward, "You know what you must do."
Thanatos came forward reluctantly and whispered, "Arraleea."
"Thanatos!" a cheerful voice answered him and Arraleea appeared before the covert group, "You have come for me!"
Thanatos removed his hood as she ran to him. She asked innocently, "Who are these…men?"
"We are not men, my love," Thanatos gazed at her keenly and his mouth hung open, "We are vampires."
"What?" Arraleea tried to draw back but his icy grip was adamant. She was frozen by the sinister gleam in his eyes, "I do not understand. Thanatos, please."
"Drain her!" a voice barked.
Before Thanatos sunk his fangs into her neck, he whispered sadly, "We are monsters."
"NOO!" Elrohir screamed as he rushed to the demolished gate. Only a few dozen of his elven fighters remained engaged with the enemy. The caped demons looked ghoulishly human and dodged the attacking elves quite agilely. But as soon as they saw Elrohir approach, they took flight. Some of the demons fled through the gate and others fled under a spell of invisibility. The prince waved his broadsword and angrily shouted at them, "Cowards! Come and fight me!"
"I will fight you," a hoary old man, wearing a long gray robe walked through the gates. He carried a staff topped with a dark orb. As he came forward, there was a roar of thunder and the orb glowed a deep purple.
"You!" Elrohir stared in disbelief, "You are dead!"
"So I am," he replied with a leering smile and toyed with his staff.
"Sauron is no more. You can not serve him now."
"True, but now there is Sarumon the Elder!" With that, Sarumon pointed his staff at Elrohir and sent a fireball flying toward him.
Elrohir raised his sword and deflected the flame, but the blast pushed him to the ground. Flames and smoke surrounded him as Sarumon continued his fiery rampage. Elrohir reached for his sword but an explosion of dirt and tree bark knocked the sword into nearby flames.
Sarumon walked to where Elrohir lay and looked down at the Prince, "Where is Lord Elrond, my boy? Perhaps this fight should be left for the adults."
Suddenly, an arrow plunged into Sarumon's chest. As the wizard grappled with the arrow and reeled in pain, Elrohir pulled forth a dagger from his belt and dug into Sarumon's flesh. To his dismay, Sarumon pushed him aside and easily plucked out the arrow and dagger.
He laughed triumphantly, "You can not kill the dead."
Sarumon raised his staff to conjure up Elrohir's death, when something knocked him down and sent the undead Maiar sprawling to the ground.
"Come quickly, my prince," It was Legolas who was busily lodging arrows into Sarumon, "I will hold him off."
"We must not fight him. He is too strong," Elrohir told him and they ran swiftly toward the woods for cover. They found the tallest of the trees, scaled it, and watched for Sarumon's advance.
"How can we stop him?" Legolas paused to reload his bow, "Rivendell must not fall."
"Look!" Elrohir spied a faint glimmer on the horizon. "If Sarumon is one of those demons, he will run for cover to avoid the sun."
Indeed, Sarumon too noticed that dawn was near. With a swipe of his robe, he vanished and fled from the rising sun.
"The sun rises quite on time," Legolas said in relief.
"No, it is too late," Elrohir said with a frown, "I know these monsters well and they hardly put up a fight tonight. We must of fell for some sort of diversion. They wanted something and I fear they have it."
A/N: Don't worry folks, somebody will save the good guys. Of course, good will always defeat evil, but exactly who or what is the force of good and who is not? Sure Saruman's evil—that's a given. If Arraleea's a vampire and vampires are soulless, bloodthirsty monsters, what is Arraleea? Is Thanatos evil for obeying orders? Could he be acting out of love or out of cowardice? Now that Arraleea is kindred, how will the elves react? Can Elrond love a demon daughter?