Disclaimer: I don't own Tolkien's stuff and crap like that…I think you know…
Don't mistake this for a Mary-sue! I despise Mary-sues! Grrrrr…
Without the problems of the main female character…my story would not work!
Well anyway! Carry on and enjoy! ^_^
P.S. I really suck at getting my grammar and my spelling perfect, but I try my best. ^_^
Disease
Chapter 2
By: Suki
"I am not dying…" King Thranduil demanded, though he was growing weak and he could not get himself out of bed. Legolas was at his side by this time and he was holding his father's hand.
"Father…" Legolas whispered.
"Son…my strength leaves my body as I speak…so listen once and understand, for I cannot repeat this again…" He informed. Thranduil started to cough and stammer but managed to speak.
"I am leaving," Thranduil hissed, " if you have not noticed the clouds are painting themselves black… Elves are dieing of an unknown sickness…*cough*" Thranduil found it hard to speak and his body began to fade.
"But…But elves can't get sick…and Elves can't just die father! It's impossible!" Legolas panicked, which was a new concept for the tall elf…he learned how to keep calm in the Fellowship when everyone else would start breaking down…Legolas' tears spilled as his father's hand began to slip from his grip. Thranduil turned to face his son.
"I will not die my Son…maybe you can changed the course of the future…maybe you can stop the Elfin race from dying out. I will be held capture in some unknown dark land. Whoever is doing this wants top authority out of the way and you have not yet become King Legolas! You can save Mirkwood and all of Middle earth for that matter…" Thranduil went on and on, but Legolas thought his father to have a fever. What was this saving 'Middle-earth" thing about? Did he really think Legolas on his own could change the course of this nightmare?
"Held captured?? What does this mean? How do you know?" Legolas was shouting now…from outside the castle they could hear thunder…
"The wind…it speaks *moan*…it's happening…" The King of Mirkwood started to shake and sputter. The light of the candles began to flicker like mad as the wind rushed in threw the windows. It was clearly mid-afternoon…but the darkness covered the land like a black sheet hovering over their beloved city. It was like night, and the sun could not be seen. The lightening licked from the sky and the thunder cackled once more. Gimli looked outside and saw a giant yellow streak blast down from the darkness and it printed a temporary blue tattoo on his retinas…
"What's happening?" A young maiden elf was holding onto her mum…many were crying. Everything and everyone was going mad. Legolas focused on his fading King…Thranduil was more than just his King, he was the man that raised him…His father. The only one left after his poor ol' mum died…
"I won't let you leave…" Legolas demanded.
"I wish I could bare eternity with you my son…but now…I'm afraid evil has decided otherwise," Thranduil's hand fell from Legolas' grip… His King lifted his hand and touched Legolas' soft cheek…the flames of the candles died out with a sizzle and with that Thranduil vanished from sight. Like a silhouette of a ghost disappearing completely… Legolas brought his own hand to the place Thranduil had touched and he could still feel the warm emotion. Just like that…The King of Mirkwood was gone…
"Didn't you see it? There was a large shadow…a demon shadow that passed over my father for a split second before he vanished!" Legolas shouted.
"Legolas…have you gone mad? He's dead…King Thranduil is dead!" One of the castle guards pronounced… Legolas pulled out one of her mighty knives and held it up to the man's throat.
"He's not dead…he vanished…it's taken him somewhere…" Legolas hissed. Gimli quickly motioned Legolas to put his knife down…and he did so.
"What is 'It' Legolas?" asked Gimli doubtfully. Legolas turned to look at Gimli with saddened eyes.
"I have no clue…" Legolas sighed deeply.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Capulet took a deep breath and with that raising his sword even more. He had pity in his eyes as he stared down at the trembling Vynel, though she was too mortified to notice him. His hands began to shake…Capulet couldn't do it. He dropped the sword beside Vynel.
"Find someone else to do your murdering…" He scoffed and turned to leave. The look of rage overcame the Great elder and he had already risen from his seat.
"Coward! If you do not have the dignity to kill a weak little girl…what left do you have?" He shouted to Capulet. Capulet turned…he glared at the Elder.
"Coward am I? I have enough dignity not to kill someone who hasn't even done anything wrong! If that is cowardice…then color me frightened…sir," His last emphasize on "Sir" came to a rather rude manor other than a compliment. Slowly the elder bent down and arose with the sword in his hands. Vynel decided to speak.
"I resent being called a weak little girl," she whispered, but hardly loud enough for either the elder or Capulet to hear.
"Fine Capulet…cower before your elder like a fool. If you shall not let this evil girl kiss the lips of death…then I she shall let her kiss the icy blade of my sword!" He hissed in fury. Hastily he drew his mighty sword back while Capulet stared at him with the look of "You-wouldn't-dare" spread across his face…
------------- TO BE CONTINUED!
