Hullo again! :)
Well, everyone was a lot nicer about NOT killing me over that cliffy. Sorry 'bout that, but this one's better…oh wait. Uhh heh-heh…oh never mind.
Yes, Cheysuli, I think I'd like to read your story sometime. I'm a little preoccupied currently, but I'll get to it ASAP. And as for the Twilight Zone, hehe, that's fairly fitting! ;)
No, Siri, as you put it so well (multiple times) THIS CAN'T BE GOOD! ;) As for the singing dwarves,…well we already discussed it. (starts playing Darth Vadar theme) "My pre pre pre pre pre pre pre pre!…precious!" :D Sorry guys, 'nother inside joke! :P
Hullo, Cassia! It's wonderful to see you again! (even though you've not been particularly nice to Aragorn-and-Legolas this week…) *smiles innocently* I've still been enjoying Seventh Stone immensely. 'sides, who am I to talk about being mean to Aragorn and Legolas? I mean really…
And it's okay if you don't get much chance to post. I know how extremely busy you are, and you'll need aaaaaaall the time you can get to post on Seventh Stone, right? ;)
Well, thank you Wolfete, Queen-of-Gondor, and Ebony! I'm glad you enjoy my writing so much! :) And I'm not trying to convince my readers that I can't write, Larus…I'm trying to convince them that Seventh Stone and Death or Despair are BETTER. :D Well the are! In fact, did you know this is the FIRST fic I have EVER finished? I'm serious, I've been writing since age 10, and this is the first one I've finished. :O *grin*
*turns her head distinctly away from Kellen* What? What did you say? Oh, I'm sorry Kellen I didn't- rule book huh? Heheh…well who said there was a rule book. Who made that up. Someone made that up because there isn't a rule book and I bet it was you…oh ya. I said it was the umm…yes well…
*clears throat loudly* KELLEN! So sorry you're not feeling well. *hands over prototusen and a box of tissues* And sorry the unintended cliffy caused such and uproar in Middle Earth! ;) I hope you get better! *glances down the post* SOON, if cliffies make you cough…
No, no, no, Laebeth. No, actually quite the contrary. See, if the elf-body-guard guy *doesn't* help me out, I just might decide on…(checks elf's name-tag) Figwit tourcher! ;) Really, I'd be far too frightened to attack my bodyguard, especially because…uh lets just say the cliffies aren't quite over yet… :D
*jumps back* Hi-yi-YI! Down, Liliana! No, really, it's not my fault…well, okay, maybe a little but…hey, I need my dreams for planning plot ideas! When else am I gonna' feed my plot bunnies? I mean really! ;) Besides. I'm posting now aren't I? :D
Yeah, Armadillo, I was actually originally planning on that. But you're right, it would end too soon. Plus, well I, for reasons that you'll find soon enough if you read this post, that they need to umn…not get freed yet, shall we say…*clears throat* Chloe, don't you say another word! :P
…*stares at Lina dumb-founded, and slowly pats her on the head*…uuuh Lina? You okay? I think you're slowly putting together a Legolas souvenir shop! *glances around at plush Legolas, chocolate Legolas, and now, Legolas Band-Aid box* right. Sure, whatever.
And yes, you are rather on the goof-side, but hey! It makes me laugh, so keep it up! :D
Hey Rose! Sorry 'bout the cliffy…yeah, I'll umm…it'll get better!…eventually? :|
Hullo, Aerin! Nice to see you're enjoying it! Yeah, I reeeeeeally don't like slash either. Welcome to the club! S.S.G.M.! (Stop Slash Go Morals) ;)
WELL! Onto the story! *grins back at Siri* and, okay, now I like the CD. *starts dancing to the music (of a different drum)* Eye-eye-eye eye-eye-eye! :D *giggle* Sorry, more jokes.
M'kay, here it goes!
Chapter 8
For A Grieving Son
Legolas cringed at the voice, and tried to run out of the hall, but the dwarves were for once quicker than the terrified elf, and pulled him back into the bright room.
"Afraid of you?" Aragorn demanded of the voice heatedly "Why would he? Who are you?!"
"Now, now, you humans are so incredibly hasty! Be calm, human, be calm."
"I will not be calm until I know who you are!" Aragorn felt a tug as the dwarf behind him finally rallied himself, and grabbed his rope again.
"Then come in here, and you will find out."
The mass of dwarves began to move into the great hall's center, dragging the human and elf with them.
"No!" Legolas shouted. "No, please!" But the dwarves, of course, paid the elf no heed.
As Aragorn went further into the hall, he caught his first glimpse of the voice's source. It was yet another dwarf, sitting high on a stone chair that stood on a platform in the center of the room. The stone dais was about four feet off the ground, and had stairs running up to it.
Aragorn looked hard at the creature. To be sure, he was not much to look at, just another dwarf, but as he looked closer, he realized that there *was* something different about him. He was old, but strong, and his black eyes seemed to pierce through all the looked into them. His hair was jet black, and frizzy as most dwarves, and he had a good-sized axe by his throne like the ones Benwin and Dreago carried. And yet, unlike the other dwarves he looked refined, and ostentatious, rather than gruff and boisterous.
Finally, Aragorn realized what it was about him that set him apart. He was old. Many of the other dwarves were well into their older years as well, but this one was ancient, and wise.
But the wisdom was ominous. Frightening. It was as if he was far too wise. As if his wisdom had given him knowledge of something he should not know.
"So." The soothing voice continued. "Now you know what I am, but not who I am. I am Uzbad Bodruith, lord of the underground halls. I rule the dwarves of Gûndu, our great halls under the grounds of Mirkwood."
"I thank you that I now know your name," Aragorn said fearlessly, "but I have yet to find who you are. I am sure that your lordship understands the difference between name and being?"
Bodruith shook with silent mirth. "Indeed, it is well that I brought you alive, rather than killing you that I might work with the elf directly. To be sure that was my intent, but you amuse me, human, and that is not an easy task."
Aragorn didn't blink. "To that, I repeat my question, who are you?"
"Ah, now, be still. You shall find that in good time." He turned his dark eyes on Legolas, and smiled cruelly. "Well then, son of Thranduil, why do you cower before me? I am but a dwarf - old and clumsy - am I not?"
"Ulund." Legolas breathed, as he tried desperately to brake free from the circle of dwarves that held him.
Bodruith shook his head "My, my. A monster am I? Is that what you see? But you foolish little elf, I am a dwarf! Do you not see me?"
Legolas shook all over, and went slack in the dwarves' grip.
"Well talk to me, elf! Can you not see me? Or do your eyes lie to you?" Bodruith watched elf with a sneer, but the evil look slowly swept off his face. Legolas just barely stood, almost oblivious to his taunts.
"Bring him to me!" He shouted angrily. Unfortunately, this had the exact effect he'd wanted, for Legolas stood up straight, and began to dig his feet into the dirt again.
"No! Please, please! No, I cannot! Aragorn!" He cried as loud as he could, pulling against the throng of dwarves.
Aragorn tried to pull away from his captor again, but this time, the dwarf was smarter, and held tight to the rope. "Legolas!" He called, doing his best from where he was
"Ea na gwiil, Legolas! Ea na gwiil!
//be at peace, legolas! Be at peace!//
Legolas couldn't listen, couldn't think, couldn't see. All he could do was struggle against the dwarves dragging him towards the dwarf-lord. "No. No." he whispered softly,
"You should be proud, my lord." Binwen told the other grinning evilly "He was not once that frightened of me!"
"Indeed, Binwen." Bodruith's sneer expanded "He has been given a second dose, has he not?"
"He has, my lord."
"Then," Bodruith made a fake frown "it is due to that, rather than my presence that he is frightened so. No matter, he is exactly where I want him."
Binwen and the dwarf lord shared a laugh, and the group of Bodruith's subjects finally dragged Legolas to the foot of the giant dais.
"So, son of Thranduil, how do you feel?"
Legolas clenched his jaw, and looked away from the dwarf lord.
"Speak, elf!" Bodruith shouted angrily "I easily lose patience!"
"If you kill me," Legolas whispered softly "it will be better anyway. I am not afraid to die. I only fear what I see now."
"Oh? What do you mean by that, elf prince?" the dwarf asked soothingly.
"I am ill. I know not with what, or how, but I cannot see beauty or feel comfort. I see you as a monster, as all the…well, Strider tells me they are dwarves, but they do not look as them to me."
"I see." Bodruith smirked "Well, I believe you. And I know what you suffer of, for I have inflicted it on you."
Legolas raised his eyes slowly "What do you mean?"
"It is no illness or magic that you see no beauty, feel no comfort, fear everything. You suffer from poison. Poison I have given you." Bodruith sat back in his high throne, and stared down at the elf in front of him, as if he looked down at a child. Then he began to speak as though he told an ancient tale.
"Long ago, the elves of Greenwood the Great, the land that is now Mirkwood, discovered an herb called Bengwiil. It was hard to find, but they uprooted as much as they could, for they soon found it was a wonderful cure for illness. If the plant was burned, and an elf inhaled the fumes, it would dull all pain for almost an hour. Well, of course it was a wonderful discovery! When any of the wood elves were in pain, or just wanted sweet rest, they would burn the Bengwiil.
"Well, this went on for quite some time. Slowly, the elves began to grow the plant on purpose. Sometimes quarrels would brake out amongst them, over who would receive the better plants. It became as good as Dragon treasure to them.
"Then, one day, a group of elves went out hunting. While on the trip, they'd been attacked by wolves, and one of their party had been seriously injured. Very seriously. They burned a whole
bushel of Bengwiil, but it did not dull the pain. In desperation, the elf ate a leaf of the plant. At first, it gave him sweet rest, and he felt good as ever, but when he awoke an hour later, he was not himself.
"For some reason, he would not tell anyone what the problem was exactly, but he was half mad, and went on and on about how dark it was, and how angrily people stared at him. How he 'had to know' and how no one would speak to him. Oh, he was still an elf. His ways of life, his instincts, his love of the stars, they did not change. Only he. In fact, it made it more painful, for he no longer could see the stars, or any of the other things that elves are so infatuated with."
At this, Legolas had to turn away. Yes, he knew exactly what the elf had gone through.
Bodruith continued his tale. "Almost a fortnight later, he went completely mad, and died, believing everyone had hated him to the end." He leaned forward and leered at Legolas. "That is what you have, son of Thranduil. That night you and the foolish human decided to camp in the depths of Mirkwood, I injected a Bengwiil coated barb into your system , and set the poison in motion through your mind. To this moment it affects your mind. But you will not be so fortunate as the first elf. You have been injected with it twice. I know not how, but by some chance, you began to build an immunity. You began to hear comfort, and hope. I could not have that, for if you know any comfort whatsoever, your mind would have a chance to build a defense against it. As long as you are in despair, you cannot do this. I injected you with a second dose. Yes prince, the elf lived a fortnight, but you shall live but another hour."
Legolas stared back at the dwarf, his eyes wide, his face paler than ever. But then, doing his best to be bold, he looked away. "What will happen to Aragorn when I die?" He asked quietly.
"You will not die, Legolas." Aragorn told him, trying to hide his anguish. How could someone purposefully do this to an innocent being? It angered him, and pained him deeply to see the callous look on Bodruith's face. How *could* he?!
Legolas, of course, could not hear Aragorn's optimism.
Bodruith examined Aragorn a moment, with his keen black eyes. "Do not worry about him, son of Thranduil." he grinned "He will not die as painfully as you."
Legolas threw Aragorn a pained look, and then turned his sorrowful silver-blue gaze back to the dwarf lord. "Why? Why me?"
"Why you." Binwen no longer triumphant, and his face was grave. "Because your father killed mine."
"What?" Legolas demanded, his eyebrows creased with confusion. "He would never do such a thing!"
"Ah, yes, your father made no mistakes in his life. Do not be so foolish, son of Thranduil. All make mistakes, and elves some if the worst. Your father was blinded by his own selfish grief."
"What do you mean?" Legolas asked tiredly, as though he grew weary of talking.
"The elf that died from Bengwiil, was a friend of Thranduil's."
"Minaeg." Legolas said thoughtfully. "I have often heard it said that he died a sad death, but none that lived at that time had the heart to tell me the minutiae. My father least of all."
"Yes." Bodruith said bitterly "After Minaeg died, Thranduil was so angry, he demanded that all trace of Bengwiil should be destroyed. So many of the wood elves were upset by Minaeg's tragic death, and so afraid that even inhaling the fumes too much would cause the same fate, that there was no argument, and all but one plant was sought out and destroyed. This one plant they grew somewhere hidden, so that if ever they needed it desperately, they would have it.
"My father, Browin, had been making a settlement for his people in Mirkwood at the time, and one day, one of the tunnels he'd begun collapsed and hurt him badly. His brother, my uncle Fulien, journeyed to the halls of Mirkwood, and begged Thranduil for the plant he'd saved. He knew of it only by tales he'd been told, but he was sure it must be there. It was there, but no matter how much he begged Thranduil, he would not give him so much as a leaf of Bengwiil.
"By the time Fulien reached the settlement again, my father was dieing. He was in so much pain…" The dwarf cut off, and swallowed hard, not for the world wanting Legolas to see the tears forming in his dark eyes. "The Bengwiil would have helped him greatly, but Thranduil would not give it, and so my father died."
"But Bengwiil, as you have said, would have only stopped the pain." Legolas argued "It would not have saved his life."
"If the pain had not been so great, he would have been able to bear it, and would have had the strength to stay alive."
"But you do not know that."
"You pretend to know me so well, elf! I know! I knew my father, and he was strong."
"Did-" Legolas tried desperately to look for an explanation. "Did my father say that he would not give your uncle the Bengwiil?"
"No, of course not! Wanting to maintain our peace, and his reputation, he claimed they had not kept the plant. But I know. He had, and maybe still has that plant. He could have saved my father, but did not!"
"I am terribly sorry for your loss." Legolas murmured sadly, looking down at the dirt floor. "More than I can say."
"You are not, son of Thranduil. You want me to spare your, or maybe the your human friend's life! You care not."
"I do." Legolas whispered, barely audible.
Aragorn had said nothing for a long time, for fear of breaking the important exchange between the two sons, but now, he could see, this was going down a dangerous path. It could lead to Bodruith becoming angrier, or Legolas becoming even more downcast than he was at present.
"How is it, then, that you poisoned Legolas with this Bengwiil, when there is none left?"
Bodruith turned angrily from Legolas to Aragorn, no longer getting any joy out of relinquishing his tale. "When I learned the elves had killed my father, I had no desire to live in their accursed forest any longer. I ran away from the tunnels my father had begun, and now my uncle continued to build, and into the darkest parts of Mirkwood. There, I found a lair of spiders. Having every intension of letting them kill me, so I might be out of my misery, I went deep into their cave. But there I found a whole cluster of Bengwiil. I only recognized it, because my uncle carved it above the inscription on my father's tomb. The elves had not searched for it amongst the spiders, of course, and so it was mine for the taking.
"I ran from the lair of the spiders, and was surprised to not be attacked. As I found out later, the spiders had left that home long ago. I planted the Bengwiil a ways off from our tunnel, and checked on it every day. I knew that when I inherited the underground tunnels, I would have my revenge." his evil leer returned as he looked at Legolas again. "And so I have."
Legolas shook his head. "What does this do to my father? It is not as if he will ever know what has happened to me. You have not taken your revenge."
"Indeed I have. It is worse to never know what has become of you. He will wonder where his son has gone, and what he has done to deserve such a thing! Then, he will in desperation look back and remember. He denied a simple dwarf the cure for his brother. Alas! The brother could no longer be alive, for due to this denial, he will surely be dead now. Indeed, he will know then that *I*, son of the one he killed, has killed his son for his faults. He will know."
Legolas shook his head over and over. Aragorn looked in despair over at him. But suddenly, despair turned to terror. Legolas kept shaking his head, until he was shaking all over.
"Legolas?" Aragorn called softly.
But suddenly, Legolas collapsed.
"Release him!" Bodruith cried gleefully "And untie him too."
Dreago pulled out a dagger, and sliced Legolas bonds, and then let go. Legolas slumped limply to his knees, pressing his hands hard against his temples. His breathing was forced, his face white.
"His mind is failing. The poison is working its evil." Bodruith's voice had a tone morbid enjoyment behind them. "He will not be with us long."
Aragorn shook his head vehemently, and lunged towards his friend again, but the dwarf pulled his rope back. At the struggle, Dreago and Binwen ran to the dwarf's aid and grabbed the struggling ranger's arms, and gave them a yank. Aragorn sank to his knees at the impact, too full of anguish and fear to be strong and stay standing under the bulky dwarves' weight.
Once on his knees, Dreago and Binwen clamped their great hands on his shoulders, holding him in the vulnerable position.
Aragorn barely noticed. All he could see anymore was his fading friend kneeling on the floor, fighting for his life.
"Legolas!"
…sorry.