The dark elf marched Aniarel out from under her friend's noses, holding her
arms tightly by her sides. He ignored her pleas for him to let her go,
walking past the border guards as calmly as anyone. Once they'd reached the
border, he let go of her, waving his hands in a complex pattern, and
muttering under his breath. She saw the air in front of him shimmer a
sickly green colour for a moment, before he grasped her arm and pulled her
into it, through a portal to his home.
He marched her along a stone walled hallway, to a goblin waiting by a door. The dark elf threw Aniarel inside, ignoring her cries of pain, and closed the door behind her. Through the blackened wood, she heard him say,
'This door is to remain closed until I say otherwise, understand? She is to have no bread, no water. No one goes in, no one comes out.'
'Yes, master.'
She heard the sound of his boots clicking against the stone floor as he strode away, no doubt to decide what to do with her.
Aniarel looked around the gloomy chamber she found herself in. It was freezing. There was a tiny window, high up in the wall opposite the door, giving very little light, but she could just about make out a wooden pallet in one corner, covered with a raggedy blanket. The floor she was sat on was bare stone, without even any rushes put down to warm the tiny room. Slowly she stood up, and pulled off the circlet. As she turned it around in her hands, she felt hot tears slide down her cheeks.
She thought of Thranduil, and all her friends, and how worried they would be. She hoped Galadriel would recover from whatever the dark elf had done to her. The tears flowed freely as she thought of Legolas. He wouldn't know what to do, what had happened. All he would know was that she had disappeared from his side as they were about to make their vows to each other. Aniarel lay, shivering, on the wooden pallet, clutching her robes about her, and sobbed for what might have been.
*~*~*
Legolas rubbed his jaw, wincing in pain. Predictably enough, once Galadriel had been seen to, the elves had split into search parties, scouring the forest and its borders for any sign of Aniarel. He had not been allowed to go, his father instead taking him to his chamber, and plying him with elven wine judiciously dosed with a sleeping draught. When he'd woken this morning, his friends had been gathered around Galadriel's Mirror, looking exhausted and down hearted.
Galadriel had insisted on showing them what had happened, despite not having regained her strength. The smoke had drawn her power out of her, allowing the dark elf to open his portal and escape. She stood by the Mirror, looking pale and weak, supported by Celeborn.
As they bent over the water, images formed that they all recognised. Legolas and Aniarel stood in the centre of the circle of friends, but now all could see the dark elf behind them. They watched in horror as he attacked Galadriel and Legolas, tearing Aniarel from his grasp. The scene shifted to just outside the borders, where the dark elf pulled his frightened captive through a glowing portal. Again the scene changed to a tiny dank cell. Legolas felt his heart wrench as he recognised the sobbing figure as his Aniarel. Tears filled his own eyes, and he felt an overwhelming urge to hit something. The Mirror darkened, returned to water, as Galadriel released the power she held.
She looked at Legolas, knowing that if they did not find a way to return Aniarel to him soon, both of them would die from the grief of what might have been.
'She is in the old fort in the White Mountains,' she told them, seeing the hope of a rescue planted in their hearts. 'It is vital that I go with you.'
Celeborn looked shocked at this.
'But why, Galadriel?'
'The dark elf who took Aniarel is my brother, Galadriorn,' she said, sadly. A gasp went up from the group around them. 'He holds the same kind of power I do. I am the only one who can defeat him.'
'Why?' Legolas' voice cut through the shocked silence. 'Why has he done this?'
Galadriel looked sad and regretful.
'Many years ago, he fell in love with a human girl. They were very happy together, but her father had married her off to a lord of Dunland. Galadriorn wanted to take her back by force, so I had him imprisoned here to prevent unnecessary deaths. When I finally let him go, she had fallen for her husband and would never have gone with my brother. The grief almost destroyed him, but instead of fading, he became twisted and bitter, spending centuries plotting revenge against me for my hasty actions. When Aniarel was born, the stars told us that she would be much loved by all, and that is why Galadriorn has attacked her. He will let her die from the grief of losing those she loves, knowing that her death will cause pain throughout our world.'
There was silence as this sank in. Then Gimli spoke up.
'If we're to be rescuing, shouldn't we get some rest first?'
Gloin clapped him about the head with a metallic clonk, frowning disapprovingly. Celeborn looked at his wife, who smiled gently, and nodded to the offended dwarf.
'Yes, Gimli, we should. We shall leave at first light tomorrow.'
As the group wandered away, anxious to get to their beds, Legolas stormed down the trails, his mind black with fury. He reached a secluded spot, and slammed his fist against the nearest tree. It shook, ever so slightly. He pounded against the tree, until his fists were bloodied and bruised.
Sighing with the effort of controlling his temper, Legolas looked around the small clearing he'd found, feeling his heart sink to new depths of despair. He had stormed straight to the waterfall where he'd first plucked up the courage to speak to her. As he gazed around, he could almost hear those first few words.
'I'd like it if you were to call me by my given name, my lord. Somehow, I don't feel comfortable being called my lady.'
'Of course, Aniarel. But only if you will call me by mine.'
'Of course, Legolas.'
His eyes clouded over, remembering the shy way she had smiled up at him from under her wealth of dark curls. More memories poured in, of them laughing together, sharing moments from their lives, dancing. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he remembered the duel, and the way she had dressed his wound, how she'd responded to him when he'd kissed her. His heart gave a painful wrench as, unbidden, the vision of her looking trustingly into his eyes and telling him she loved him rose before the distraught elf. He sank to his knees beside the pool, and gave in to the tears.
'Aniarel,' he whispered. 'I'll come for you, I promise.'
He marched her along a stone walled hallway, to a goblin waiting by a door. The dark elf threw Aniarel inside, ignoring her cries of pain, and closed the door behind her. Through the blackened wood, she heard him say,
'This door is to remain closed until I say otherwise, understand? She is to have no bread, no water. No one goes in, no one comes out.'
'Yes, master.'
She heard the sound of his boots clicking against the stone floor as he strode away, no doubt to decide what to do with her.
Aniarel looked around the gloomy chamber she found herself in. It was freezing. There was a tiny window, high up in the wall opposite the door, giving very little light, but she could just about make out a wooden pallet in one corner, covered with a raggedy blanket. The floor she was sat on was bare stone, without even any rushes put down to warm the tiny room. Slowly she stood up, and pulled off the circlet. As she turned it around in her hands, she felt hot tears slide down her cheeks.
She thought of Thranduil, and all her friends, and how worried they would be. She hoped Galadriel would recover from whatever the dark elf had done to her. The tears flowed freely as she thought of Legolas. He wouldn't know what to do, what had happened. All he would know was that she had disappeared from his side as they were about to make their vows to each other. Aniarel lay, shivering, on the wooden pallet, clutching her robes about her, and sobbed for what might have been.
*~*~*
Legolas rubbed his jaw, wincing in pain. Predictably enough, once Galadriel had been seen to, the elves had split into search parties, scouring the forest and its borders for any sign of Aniarel. He had not been allowed to go, his father instead taking him to his chamber, and plying him with elven wine judiciously dosed with a sleeping draught. When he'd woken this morning, his friends had been gathered around Galadriel's Mirror, looking exhausted and down hearted.
Galadriel had insisted on showing them what had happened, despite not having regained her strength. The smoke had drawn her power out of her, allowing the dark elf to open his portal and escape. She stood by the Mirror, looking pale and weak, supported by Celeborn.
As they bent over the water, images formed that they all recognised. Legolas and Aniarel stood in the centre of the circle of friends, but now all could see the dark elf behind them. They watched in horror as he attacked Galadriel and Legolas, tearing Aniarel from his grasp. The scene shifted to just outside the borders, where the dark elf pulled his frightened captive through a glowing portal. Again the scene changed to a tiny dank cell. Legolas felt his heart wrench as he recognised the sobbing figure as his Aniarel. Tears filled his own eyes, and he felt an overwhelming urge to hit something. The Mirror darkened, returned to water, as Galadriel released the power she held.
She looked at Legolas, knowing that if they did not find a way to return Aniarel to him soon, both of them would die from the grief of what might have been.
'She is in the old fort in the White Mountains,' she told them, seeing the hope of a rescue planted in their hearts. 'It is vital that I go with you.'
Celeborn looked shocked at this.
'But why, Galadriel?'
'The dark elf who took Aniarel is my brother, Galadriorn,' she said, sadly. A gasp went up from the group around them. 'He holds the same kind of power I do. I am the only one who can defeat him.'
'Why?' Legolas' voice cut through the shocked silence. 'Why has he done this?'
Galadriel looked sad and regretful.
'Many years ago, he fell in love with a human girl. They were very happy together, but her father had married her off to a lord of Dunland. Galadriorn wanted to take her back by force, so I had him imprisoned here to prevent unnecessary deaths. When I finally let him go, she had fallen for her husband and would never have gone with my brother. The grief almost destroyed him, but instead of fading, he became twisted and bitter, spending centuries plotting revenge against me for my hasty actions. When Aniarel was born, the stars told us that she would be much loved by all, and that is why Galadriorn has attacked her. He will let her die from the grief of losing those she loves, knowing that her death will cause pain throughout our world.'
There was silence as this sank in. Then Gimli spoke up.
'If we're to be rescuing, shouldn't we get some rest first?'
Gloin clapped him about the head with a metallic clonk, frowning disapprovingly. Celeborn looked at his wife, who smiled gently, and nodded to the offended dwarf.
'Yes, Gimli, we should. We shall leave at first light tomorrow.'
As the group wandered away, anxious to get to their beds, Legolas stormed down the trails, his mind black with fury. He reached a secluded spot, and slammed his fist against the nearest tree. It shook, ever so slightly. He pounded against the tree, until his fists were bloodied and bruised.
Sighing with the effort of controlling his temper, Legolas looked around the small clearing he'd found, feeling his heart sink to new depths of despair. He had stormed straight to the waterfall where he'd first plucked up the courage to speak to her. As he gazed around, he could almost hear those first few words.
'I'd like it if you were to call me by my given name, my lord. Somehow, I don't feel comfortable being called my lady.'
'Of course, Aniarel. But only if you will call me by mine.'
'Of course, Legolas.'
His eyes clouded over, remembering the shy way she had smiled up at him from under her wealth of dark curls. More memories poured in, of them laughing together, sharing moments from their lives, dancing. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he remembered the duel, and the way she had dressed his wound, how she'd responded to him when he'd kissed her. His heart gave a painful wrench as, unbidden, the vision of her looking trustingly into his eyes and telling him she loved him rose before the distraught elf. He sank to his knees beside the pool, and gave in to the tears.
'Aniarel,' he whispered. 'I'll come for you, I promise.'