*~*FAY: A fairy, sprite or elf [Middle English faie, one possessing magical
powers, from Old French faie, fae, from Latin fata, the Fates, plural of
fatum, FATE.]
FAIRY: A supernatural being in human form, depicted as clever, mischievous, and capable of assisting or harassing humans. ~ "The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language"*~*
THE FAERIE GOBLET
Chapter 20 ~ "The Long Dark"
(A/N: Just so I don't lose anyone here . . . this chapter begins only 30 minutes or so after Legolas drank from the Faerie Goblet. And don't forget that Faerie time doesn't always run at the same speed as our time. Enjoy ;)
"THERE ARE NO SUCH THING AS FAERIES!" Gimli shouted. "THEY ARE MYTH!"
"In the town of Bree, Elves are thought to be myth," Alede countered.
"Foolish humans," Gimli muttered.
Alede ignored his remark and held up "Demons and Other Denizens of Darkness".
"Legolas gave me this book several years ago. It was written by a Mirkwood Elf during the second age, so I think it is credible . . ."
"Credible?" Gimli sputtered. "Not likely! Elves have no sense!"
"Your best friend is an Elf," Alede shouted in her turn.
"Legolas is more sensible than most!"
"Is he?" she asked, making an angry gesture at the Faerie Goblet.
The Dwarf made a sound of defeat and sat down in one of the plump chairs with a thump of despair. "Very well. Read to me from your book."
Alede quickly flipped through the pages until she came to the one she'd marked. Clearing her throat she read slowly, translating into Common as she went.
"The Fey are a race of beings thought to be descended from the Dark Elves. Twisted by Melkor through the use of witchcraft and the Dark Arts, these people now dwell below ground in halls of magic . . ."
"Fey?" Gimli asked irritably. "I thought you were going to read about faeries. What in the name of Mordor are fey?"
"If you'll let me continue," Alede snapped, her own temper as short as Gimli's due to her worry.
"Where was I?" she mumbled. "The Fey, also known as 'Faeries' by the race of Men, the 'Wee Folk' by common village peasants, and the "Shadow People" by the Istari . . ."
Here Gimli glared at her but Alede only shrugged. She'd never heard the term 'Shadow People' before and she'd certainly never heard her father mention it.
"In physical form," she continued, "they much resemble the Eldar, being lithe of body and possessing exceptional beauty . . ."
"Humph!"
Alede ignored Gimli and continued, "The Fey can be either benevolent or wicked, depending upon the condition of their kingdom. If they are strong in number, they often show their benevolence by blessing crops and aiding lovers. But if the kingdom has fallen in numbers, they can become vicious, stealing human children or capturing Elves in the hopes of increasing their population." Alede blanched as she read the last few words before she continued.
"Any mortal who passes the boundaries of the Faerie world will be condemned there forever. If he should by chance find a way out, he will die upon reaching the real world. The passage of time in Faerie passes differently. A moment there is as many centuries here and any mortal who re-enters our world instantly dies of old age."
Alede gave Gimli a piercing glance and was reassured by the look of horror on his face. The last thing she needed right now was the Dwarf charging off into the Faerie ring, bent on rescuing his friend.
"The Fey take many forms. They have interbred with many of the ancient woodland spirits, sprites, and nymphs, thereby creating an entire hoard of creatures that share their magic, though not their physical form. These include Brownies, Bogles, Hags, Hobgoblins," here Alede paused again, giving Gimli a significant look, "Imps, Kelpies, Stone Wights . . . the list goes on," she said looking up. "But the main point here is that Faeries are known to this author and there may be a way of getting our people out . . ."
"There had better be!" Gimli growled. It chafed him that he could not immediately act. That he could not go himself . . . the thought made him want to weep with anger and frustration. "That fool of an Elf won't need a Faerie to cause him harm!"
"Legolas is still alive," she said, recognizing his anger for worry.
He turned quickly. "How do you know?"
"We . . ." she paused, not sure how to tell Gimli about sharing song with Legolas. Did his people consider it impolite to speak of as well? "Legolas and I . . . share a connection . . ."
"You share song," Gimli stated matter of factly. "I had forgotten about that. So, he is alive? Is he alright?"
"Legolas told you?" Alede asked, ignoring his question in her surprise.
"Of course, he told me," Gimli snapped. "He does occasionally speak to me, you know!"
"Certainly," Alede stammered. "I meant no offence. Legolas looks on you as a brother. I was merely surprised, since the Elves consider the subject improper conversation."
Gimli snorted and began pacing around the room. "Aye, they cavort about naked beneath the trees and think nothing of it, yet turn squeamish over a simple process of the mind."
Alede grinned at Gimli's description. "They are a difficult race to understand for a practical people like yours and mine. Yet . . . they are worth the knowing, despite their strange ways," she ventured, looking at him hopefully.
Gimli ceased pacing and eyed Alede, recognizing her words as an offering of peace, a sharing of opinions. He hesitated before responding and looked into her earnest face.
*Ah well. I have made one strange alliance before and it was for the better.*
"Aye," he said to her. "They are worth the knowing. Now, what does your connection with that feather brained Elf of ours tell you?"
Alede smiled at the word 'ours'. She and the Dwarf were allies.
*At least for the moment.*
"Only that he is alive," she said, answering his question. "The emotions I sense from him are strangely sluggish. I feel revulsion and some fear. But it is not great. I do not think he is in immediate danger."
"Then let us set to work on this book of yours," Gimli said stomping over to the desk. He needed to do something . . . anything. "And see how we may go about rescuing our friends."
~ ~ ~
Alede's hands shook as she rolled up the ball of yarn. It still felt disgustingly sticky, but that was of little matter to her. It should work.
*It must work!*
"Here," Gimli said puffing into the room hurriedly. Soot stained the front of his tunic and ashes clung to his beard. He held out to her a long stake of iron. "Its crude and un-smoothed," Gimli apologized, "but I did not have much time."
Alede took it, though her hands trembled so violently, she nearly dropped it.
"You need to eat," Gimli stated, "especially after nearly bleeding yourself dry."
Alede looked down once again at the ball of yarn, stained a dull red with her own blood.
**Blood to break another's magic.*
*Blood to seal your own.*
*Blood to bind your life force, and again to bring it home.**
The words were her mother's. The book of Green Spells, written in her mother's spidery script lay beside the ancient Elvin volume of "Demons and other Denizens of Darkness". From both books, Gimli and Alede had gleaned the bare essentials for trespassing into the land of Faerie . . . and for safely coming out again.
The iron stake that Gimli had forged in such haste would be driven into the ground outside the first Faerie ring. Iron was proof against all natural forms of magic. Only the magic of the wizards was immune to it.
The blood soaked yarn would be Alede's lifeline. She would unwind it as she went, thereby giving herself a thread to follow back again once she found their people. Her own blood would protect her from the Faerie magic that would threaten to entrap her.
There had been rules of conduct in the book as well for entering Faerie, but they had both skipped over those. Neither of them was concerned with etiquette at the moment.
"May I borrow an iron knife as well?" she asked, glancing down at the fine hilt on the Dwarf's belt.
Gimli hesitated, obviously uncomfortable with her request.
"Gimli," Alede said, her voice deadly serious. "I would die for Legolas. Do you think that I would not kill for him as well?"
The dwarf nodded and took off the belt. Solemnly, he fitted it around her small waist himself.
As they walked hurriedly back out to the Faerie ring, Alede stuffed lembas in her mouth. She didn't know when she'd get the chance to eat again, though at the moment she had no appetite. The sweet cake crumbled in her dry mouth and threatened to choke her. But by the time, Gimli had driven the iron stake into the ground and secured one end of her yarn to it, she'd forgotten the lembas. There was more of it in her pocket for her father and . . .
"All set," Gimli stated.
Alede looked down with approval at the tight Dwarvin knot. Even magic would not dislodge that intricate knot.
"Thank you," Alede managed to say. She checked her things once again. She was taking very little with her, the yarn, a water skin, her rowan staff and the clothing she stood in. Most importantly she had a tiny clay jar of an ointment she'd concocted that should be proof against Glamour, the magical illusions of the Faeries.
If I made it correctly, she thought worriedly. She'd been in too much haste to read the recipe very carefully.
She turned to Gimli. "I . . . I may be gone for some time," she stammered. "Faerie time passes differently for immortals than in does for mortals. So, I may be gone only a few days . . . I . . . Don't wait for me, if it becomes . . . too long."
Gimli frowned but nodded. They'd agreed that Gimli should set out in search of the ice crew after a couple of days to warn them and also to seek help. Alede had suggested that a message be sent to King Thranduil of Mirkwood once Gimli had found the others. Thranduil needed to know of his son's demise and he was also the most likely to be versed in the ways of Faeries. Mirkwood still contained many ancient creatures that had long been banned from the other Elvin realms.
Holding the ball of yarn firmly, Alede braced her shoulders and put one foot inside the Faerie ring.
"I'll get him out of there, Gimli," she said looking back at the worried Dwarf. "I promise you."
He nodded, started to say something and changed his mind.
Alede faced forward again, took another step and . . .
Vanished.
~ ~ ~
Darkness completely enfolded her and the smell of mold was overpowering. Alede wrinkled her nose and stifled a sneeze. A gentle tug on her ball of yarn assured her that she was still secured to Gimli's stake.
Listening carefully, she heard no real sound in the utter blackness. But magic, powerful and ancient, whispered all around her. She cocked her head and listened to it. It gibbered with a manic quality, as if the entity that had created it was not quite sane.
Beyond the magic's awful cadence, Alede suddenly caught the strains of Legolas' song. It was quite clear. It was also apparent that he was in trouble. Alede could feel his emotions surging like waves and knew that he fought some great battle.
Rushing forward blindly, Alede cried out as the floor suddenly disappeared out from under her feet. She fell heavily, loosing hold of her staff as she crashed to the hard packed earth. Her chin struck the dirt with enough force to jar her teeth and for a moment she had trouble catching her breath.
Once her lungs started working again, Alede forced herself up onto her hands and knees and grouped around on the floor for her staff. She dared not call it to her with magic. These Faerie folk could probably 'hear' magic and Alede wished not to give away her element of surprise.
Her hands finally closed upon the solid shaft of her staff and she started to pick it up. Oddly enough it didn't feel right though. The shaft was cold and damp and as she dragged it toward her, something clattered along with it. Realizing that it had caught on something, Alede shook it and much to her dismay, something broke free and went clattering and bouncing down more stairs.
"Curse it!" Alede whispered under her breath. Pulling the staff toward her, she very softly, but rather urgently said an illuminating spell, hoping desperately it would not be heard. Magic or no, she had to see where she was going and neither she nor Gimli had thought about a lantern.
To her surprise, the staff did not light, though a light shown over her left shoulder. Turning, Alede saw her staff laying a few feet away.
"But then what do I have . . .?" With a cry of revulsion, Alede suddenly dropped the object in her hand and scuttled backward. What she had thought was her staff was instead the smooth long bone of a skeleton's leg.
Scrambling to her feet, Alede grabbed her staff, thrusting it in front of her and chanting to the beam of light until it became almost as bright as a small sun. She was panting with fear by the time the light shown all around her. In a panic, she looked upon a veritable graveyard of skeletons littered upon the stairs. The one she'd mistakenly grabbed was missing its head and she knew that the scull had been the unfortunate object that had bounced down the staircase.
With shaking hands, she uncorked the little jar of ointment and smeared it in her eyes. Blinking rapidly she looked down, assuming that the skeletons would disappear, that they were only a bit of glamour to frighten her.
They remained.
Desperately she gave the ball of yarn another tug. It was still secure and she looked longingly for one moment up the stairs to where the yarn disappeared into the seemingly solid rock of the cavern. She could leave.
*No.*
Turning back around to face the long set of stairs in front of her was one of the hardest things Alede had ever done. But Legolas was down that dark incline, somewhere. And she would not abandon her heart . . . ever.
~ ~ ~
Alede came to a lake after what felt like days of climbing down stairs and over broken columns and the occasional rubble from a rockslide. The hundreds of skeletons that she'd passed had all been climbing up those steps, making it increasingly difficult for her to go on. They had died, trying to get out, and there she was, trying to get in.
Some of the corpses were only a few months old and Alede was able to guess their cause of death . . . starvation. Shuddering, she had passed on. She knew that those who ate Faerie food fell under its enchantment and those who did not . . . died.
She had another panic when she reached the lake. As she unwound her ball of yarn it suddenly went slack. Stifling a cry of fear, Alede whirled around. The yarn had snagged on something and broken. The frayed end hung near her feet. Glancing wildly about she tried to spy the other end but could not see it in the rubble path she'd come down. She started to backtrack, but the tumult of emotions that she continued to feel from Legolas made her abandon it.
Several times during her descent she'd been overcome with wave upon wave of fear, revulsion and blinding fury coming from him. She had no idea what ordeal the Elf was going through, but what ever it was, she had to reach him fast.
Reaching down, she tied the frayed end around a small rock that lay near the path she had come down, marking her return route. Surely the other end would not be hard to find once she started back. She could still see the rubble-strewn path she'd come down.
Turning back to the lake, Alede noticed a boat on the shore that she must have overlooked the first time. Gingerly, she stepped into it and was startled when it drifted out into the lake by itself.
"Enchantment," she whispered. And a strong one at that.
She became aware of a bright light as she approached the opposite shore. Extinguishing the light on her staff, Alede got out of the boat carefully and walked up the slight rise . . .
And was immediately set upon by a hoard of faeries. Apparently, her presence was not a surprise after all.
Angry, wizened little men snapped and scratched at her and wispy maidens grasped her arms. Alede tried to throw them off, but as she was born into a clearing of strange trees, she started catching sight of familiar faces.
All around huge tables sat the Elves of Rivendell. The males laughed and drank heartily, but their eyes were blank. The maidens sat as if in sleep. Enchantment was written all over their faces.
Alede called out to them, careful to not use anyone's name, but there was no response. She didn't think they even noticed her. She could see no sign of her father or Cyrus.
And then the hoard was shoving her toward a dais and her heart quickened when she saw a tall dark head above the crowd of gibbering faeries and then a pale one. She'd know Legolas' hair anywhere.
Jabbing out with her staff sharply, Alede managed to scatter a few of the faeries and broke into the open next to Legolas. He stood upon the dais and Alede was briefly aware of a woman seated on the throne beside him and Elrohir standing beyond. Magic poured from the woman, but Alede had eyes only for Legolas and ignored the unseen threat she felt from the Faerie woman.
Legolas stood rigidly at attention beside the throne, his eyes were blank with enchantment. Someone had clothed him in fine garments, but they were not real. Alede could see his own tattered and torn garments beneath. The faerie clothing was as insubstantial as mist.
*So, he was not enchanted without a struggle.*
She grabbed Legolas' arm, looking up into his blank eyes, hoping to reach him. The enchantment was very strong, though she could hear the panicked notes of his song. Some part of his mind was still free of the magical prison. Alede thought that he feared for her, but there was more beneath the urgent worry.
Much more.
Following some inner impulse, Alede pushed aside the collar of the bright tunic he wore, exposing an expanse of skin. Dark red marks and four long scratches marred his chest.
Scratches, like that of fingernails.
Realization dawned and Alede looked up again, hearing the unspoken agony and fury in Legolas' mind. She spun around, facing the deadly power seated on the throne and found herself looking at the most regal woman she'd ever seen.
The Faerie Queen.
The Faerie Queen was dressed in shimmering gauze and was so thin and pale, Alede imagined she could see through her. Her hair was pure white, though not with age, it was simply without color . . .
*As her eyes are without warmth.*
The Queen rose slowly from her throne, her sculpted face set in a mask of rage. Obviously, she was already aware of Alede's purpose.
"Who are you that invades my kingdom?" the Queen asked, her voice ringing out like a bell.
Alede's face hardened. She tossed the ball of yarn away from her, so it would not interfere with her magic. Then she stabbed her staff down upon the dais with a clash of sound that echoed all over the suddenly quiet cavern. She drew it around her in a circle, scribing an encircling spell on the smooth floor.
"Who am I?" Alede repeated, her voice as cold as death. She took one more look at Legolas before facing her adversary and answering.
"I am Retribution."
~ ~ ~
A/N: Looks like the Faerie Queen could use a bit of retribution after what she'd done to our Elf! Chapter 21, coming soon!
By the way, I've forgotten to explain that the word "faerie" is the Olde English spelling of our current "fairy". I used the old English to honor Tolkien and his fascination with ancient languages. (Thank you, Thecla for reminding me! :) Also, these faeries are not the tiny creatures of modern mythology. Ancient faeries were the size of humans, it was not until the Victorian era that they began to shrink in size and became confused with pixies, which are tiny.
Since all of you did so well with the foreshadowing of the yellow rose, you may be interested to know that the creature "Green Meg" that Legolas frightened Alede with back in Mirkwood, in "The Caverns of Mirkwood" was a foreshadowing of their encounter with Faerie creatures in this story.
Sorry, it comes from having a classical literature education. :D
Hmm . . . I wonder just what types of foreshadowing there is in this story for the 4th Legolas/Alede adventure entitled, "The Gryphon's Tears"? :D
FAIRY: A supernatural being in human form, depicted as clever, mischievous, and capable of assisting or harassing humans. ~ "The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language"*~*
THE FAERIE GOBLET
Chapter 20 ~ "The Long Dark"
(A/N: Just so I don't lose anyone here . . . this chapter begins only 30 minutes or so after Legolas drank from the Faerie Goblet. And don't forget that Faerie time doesn't always run at the same speed as our time. Enjoy ;)
"THERE ARE NO SUCH THING AS FAERIES!" Gimli shouted. "THEY ARE MYTH!"
"In the town of Bree, Elves are thought to be myth," Alede countered.
"Foolish humans," Gimli muttered.
Alede ignored his remark and held up "Demons and Other Denizens of Darkness".
"Legolas gave me this book several years ago. It was written by a Mirkwood Elf during the second age, so I think it is credible . . ."
"Credible?" Gimli sputtered. "Not likely! Elves have no sense!"
"Your best friend is an Elf," Alede shouted in her turn.
"Legolas is more sensible than most!"
"Is he?" she asked, making an angry gesture at the Faerie Goblet.
The Dwarf made a sound of defeat and sat down in one of the plump chairs with a thump of despair. "Very well. Read to me from your book."
Alede quickly flipped through the pages until she came to the one she'd marked. Clearing her throat she read slowly, translating into Common as she went.
"The Fey are a race of beings thought to be descended from the Dark Elves. Twisted by Melkor through the use of witchcraft and the Dark Arts, these people now dwell below ground in halls of magic . . ."
"Fey?" Gimli asked irritably. "I thought you were going to read about faeries. What in the name of Mordor are fey?"
"If you'll let me continue," Alede snapped, her own temper as short as Gimli's due to her worry.
"Where was I?" she mumbled. "The Fey, also known as 'Faeries' by the race of Men, the 'Wee Folk' by common village peasants, and the "Shadow People" by the Istari . . ."
Here Gimli glared at her but Alede only shrugged. She'd never heard the term 'Shadow People' before and she'd certainly never heard her father mention it.
"In physical form," she continued, "they much resemble the Eldar, being lithe of body and possessing exceptional beauty . . ."
"Humph!"
Alede ignored Gimli and continued, "The Fey can be either benevolent or wicked, depending upon the condition of their kingdom. If they are strong in number, they often show their benevolence by blessing crops and aiding lovers. But if the kingdom has fallen in numbers, they can become vicious, stealing human children or capturing Elves in the hopes of increasing their population." Alede blanched as she read the last few words before she continued.
"Any mortal who passes the boundaries of the Faerie world will be condemned there forever. If he should by chance find a way out, he will die upon reaching the real world. The passage of time in Faerie passes differently. A moment there is as many centuries here and any mortal who re-enters our world instantly dies of old age."
Alede gave Gimli a piercing glance and was reassured by the look of horror on his face. The last thing she needed right now was the Dwarf charging off into the Faerie ring, bent on rescuing his friend.
"The Fey take many forms. They have interbred with many of the ancient woodland spirits, sprites, and nymphs, thereby creating an entire hoard of creatures that share their magic, though not their physical form. These include Brownies, Bogles, Hags, Hobgoblins," here Alede paused again, giving Gimli a significant look, "Imps, Kelpies, Stone Wights . . . the list goes on," she said looking up. "But the main point here is that Faeries are known to this author and there may be a way of getting our people out . . ."
"There had better be!" Gimli growled. It chafed him that he could not immediately act. That he could not go himself . . . the thought made him want to weep with anger and frustration. "That fool of an Elf won't need a Faerie to cause him harm!"
"Legolas is still alive," she said, recognizing his anger for worry.
He turned quickly. "How do you know?"
"We . . ." she paused, not sure how to tell Gimli about sharing song with Legolas. Did his people consider it impolite to speak of as well? "Legolas and I . . . share a connection . . ."
"You share song," Gimli stated matter of factly. "I had forgotten about that. So, he is alive? Is he alright?"
"Legolas told you?" Alede asked, ignoring his question in her surprise.
"Of course, he told me," Gimli snapped. "He does occasionally speak to me, you know!"
"Certainly," Alede stammered. "I meant no offence. Legolas looks on you as a brother. I was merely surprised, since the Elves consider the subject improper conversation."
Gimli snorted and began pacing around the room. "Aye, they cavort about naked beneath the trees and think nothing of it, yet turn squeamish over a simple process of the mind."
Alede grinned at Gimli's description. "They are a difficult race to understand for a practical people like yours and mine. Yet . . . they are worth the knowing, despite their strange ways," she ventured, looking at him hopefully.
Gimli ceased pacing and eyed Alede, recognizing her words as an offering of peace, a sharing of opinions. He hesitated before responding and looked into her earnest face.
*Ah well. I have made one strange alliance before and it was for the better.*
"Aye," he said to her. "They are worth the knowing. Now, what does your connection with that feather brained Elf of ours tell you?"
Alede smiled at the word 'ours'. She and the Dwarf were allies.
*At least for the moment.*
"Only that he is alive," she said, answering his question. "The emotions I sense from him are strangely sluggish. I feel revulsion and some fear. But it is not great. I do not think he is in immediate danger."
"Then let us set to work on this book of yours," Gimli said stomping over to the desk. He needed to do something . . . anything. "And see how we may go about rescuing our friends."
~ ~ ~
Alede's hands shook as she rolled up the ball of yarn. It still felt disgustingly sticky, but that was of little matter to her. It should work.
*It must work!*
"Here," Gimli said puffing into the room hurriedly. Soot stained the front of his tunic and ashes clung to his beard. He held out to her a long stake of iron. "Its crude and un-smoothed," Gimli apologized, "but I did not have much time."
Alede took it, though her hands trembled so violently, she nearly dropped it.
"You need to eat," Gimli stated, "especially after nearly bleeding yourself dry."
Alede looked down once again at the ball of yarn, stained a dull red with her own blood.
**Blood to break another's magic.*
*Blood to seal your own.*
*Blood to bind your life force, and again to bring it home.**
The words were her mother's. The book of Green Spells, written in her mother's spidery script lay beside the ancient Elvin volume of "Demons and other Denizens of Darkness". From both books, Gimli and Alede had gleaned the bare essentials for trespassing into the land of Faerie . . . and for safely coming out again.
The iron stake that Gimli had forged in such haste would be driven into the ground outside the first Faerie ring. Iron was proof against all natural forms of magic. Only the magic of the wizards was immune to it.
The blood soaked yarn would be Alede's lifeline. She would unwind it as she went, thereby giving herself a thread to follow back again once she found their people. Her own blood would protect her from the Faerie magic that would threaten to entrap her.
There had been rules of conduct in the book as well for entering Faerie, but they had both skipped over those. Neither of them was concerned with etiquette at the moment.
"May I borrow an iron knife as well?" she asked, glancing down at the fine hilt on the Dwarf's belt.
Gimli hesitated, obviously uncomfortable with her request.
"Gimli," Alede said, her voice deadly serious. "I would die for Legolas. Do you think that I would not kill for him as well?"
The dwarf nodded and took off the belt. Solemnly, he fitted it around her small waist himself.
As they walked hurriedly back out to the Faerie ring, Alede stuffed lembas in her mouth. She didn't know when she'd get the chance to eat again, though at the moment she had no appetite. The sweet cake crumbled in her dry mouth and threatened to choke her. But by the time, Gimli had driven the iron stake into the ground and secured one end of her yarn to it, she'd forgotten the lembas. There was more of it in her pocket for her father and . . .
"All set," Gimli stated.
Alede looked down with approval at the tight Dwarvin knot. Even magic would not dislodge that intricate knot.
"Thank you," Alede managed to say. She checked her things once again. She was taking very little with her, the yarn, a water skin, her rowan staff and the clothing she stood in. Most importantly she had a tiny clay jar of an ointment she'd concocted that should be proof against Glamour, the magical illusions of the Faeries.
If I made it correctly, she thought worriedly. She'd been in too much haste to read the recipe very carefully.
She turned to Gimli. "I . . . I may be gone for some time," she stammered. "Faerie time passes differently for immortals than in does for mortals. So, I may be gone only a few days . . . I . . . Don't wait for me, if it becomes . . . too long."
Gimli frowned but nodded. They'd agreed that Gimli should set out in search of the ice crew after a couple of days to warn them and also to seek help. Alede had suggested that a message be sent to King Thranduil of Mirkwood once Gimli had found the others. Thranduil needed to know of his son's demise and he was also the most likely to be versed in the ways of Faeries. Mirkwood still contained many ancient creatures that had long been banned from the other Elvin realms.
Holding the ball of yarn firmly, Alede braced her shoulders and put one foot inside the Faerie ring.
"I'll get him out of there, Gimli," she said looking back at the worried Dwarf. "I promise you."
He nodded, started to say something and changed his mind.
Alede faced forward again, took another step and . . .
Vanished.
~ ~ ~
Darkness completely enfolded her and the smell of mold was overpowering. Alede wrinkled her nose and stifled a sneeze. A gentle tug on her ball of yarn assured her that she was still secured to Gimli's stake.
Listening carefully, she heard no real sound in the utter blackness. But magic, powerful and ancient, whispered all around her. She cocked her head and listened to it. It gibbered with a manic quality, as if the entity that had created it was not quite sane.
Beyond the magic's awful cadence, Alede suddenly caught the strains of Legolas' song. It was quite clear. It was also apparent that he was in trouble. Alede could feel his emotions surging like waves and knew that he fought some great battle.
Rushing forward blindly, Alede cried out as the floor suddenly disappeared out from under her feet. She fell heavily, loosing hold of her staff as she crashed to the hard packed earth. Her chin struck the dirt with enough force to jar her teeth and for a moment she had trouble catching her breath.
Once her lungs started working again, Alede forced herself up onto her hands and knees and grouped around on the floor for her staff. She dared not call it to her with magic. These Faerie folk could probably 'hear' magic and Alede wished not to give away her element of surprise.
Her hands finally closed upon the solid shaft of her staff and she started to pick it up. Oddly enough it didn't feel right though. The shaft was cold and damp and as she dragged it toward her, something clattered along with it. Realizing that it had caught on something, Alede shook it and much to her dismay, something broke free and went clattering and bouncing down more stairs.
"Curse it!" Alede whispered under her breath. Pulling the staff toward her, she very softly, but rather urgently said an illuminating spell, hoping desperately it would not be heard. Magic or no, she had to see where she was going and neither she nor Gimli had thought about a lantern.
To her surprise, the staff did not light, though a light shown over her left shoulder. Turning, Alede saw her staff laying a few feet away.
"But then what do I have . . .?" With a cry of revulsion, Alede suddenly dropped the object in her hand and scuttled backward. What she had thought was her staff was instead the smooth long bone of a skeleton's leg.
Scrambling to her feet, Alede grabbed her staff, thrusting it in front of her and chanting to the beam of light until it became almost as bright as a small sun. She was panting with fear by the time the light shown all around her. In a panic, she looked upon a veritable graveyard of skeletons littered upon the stairs. The one she'd mistakenly grabbed was missing its head and she knew that the scull had been the unfortunate object that had bounced down the staircase.
With shaking hands, she uncorked the little jar of ointment and smeared it in her eyes. Blinking rapidly she looked down, assuming that the skeletons would disappear, that they were only a bit of glamour to frighten her.
They remained.
Desperately she gave the ball of yarn another tug. It was still secure and she looked longingly for one moment up the stairs to where the yarn disappeared into the seemingly solid rock of the cavern. She could leave.
*No.*
Turning back around to face the long set of stairs in front of her was one of the hardest things Alede had ever done. But Legolas was down that dark incline, somewhere. And she would not abandon her heart . . . ever.
~ ~ ~
Alede came to a lake after what felt like days of climbing down stairs and over broken columns and the occasional rubble from a rockslide. The hundreds of skeletons that she'd passed had all been climbing up those steps, making it increasingly difficult for her to go on. They had died, trying to get out, and there she was, trying to get in.
Some of the corpses were only a few months old and Alede was able to guess their cause of death . . . starvation. Shuddering, she had passed on. She knew that those who ate Faerie food fell under its enchantment and those who did not . . . died.
She had another panic when she reached the lake. As she unwound her ball of yarn it suddenly went slack. Stifling a cry of fear, Alede whirled around. The yarn had snagged on something and broken. The frayed end hung near her feet. Glancing wildly about she tried to spy the other end but could not see it in the rubble path she'd come down. She started to backtrack, but the tumult of emotions that she continued to feel from Legolas made her abandon it.
Several times during her descent she'd been overcome with wave upon wave of fear, revulsion and blinding fury coming from him. She had no idea what ordeal the Elf was going through, but what ever it was, she had to reach him fast.
Reaching down, she tied the frayed end around a small rock that lay near the path she had come down, marking her return route. Surely the other end would not be hard to find once she started back. She could still see the rubble-strewn path she'd come down.
Turning back to the lake, Alede noticed a boat on the shore that she must have overlooked the first time. Gingerly, she stepped into it and was startled when it drifted out into the lake by itself.
"Enchantment," she whispered. And a strong one at that.
She became aware of a bright light as she approached the opposite shore. Extinguishing the light on her staff, Alede got out of the boat carefully and walked up the slight rise . . .
And was immediately set upon by a hoard of faeries. Apparently, her presence was not a surprise after all.
Angry, wizened little men snapped and scratched at her and wispy maidens grasped her arms. Alede tried to throw them off, but as she was born into a clearing of strange trees, she started catching sight of familiar faces.
All around huge tables sat the Elves of Rivendell. The males laughed and drank heartily, but their eyes were blank. The maidens sat as if in sleep. Enchantment was written all over their faces.
Alede called out to them, careful to not use anyone's name, but there was no response. She didn't think they even noticed her. She could see no sign of her father or Cyrus.
And then the hoard was shoving her toward a dais and her heart quickened when she saw a tall dark head above the crowd of gibbering faeries and then a pale one. She'd know Legolas' hair anywhere.
Jabbing out with her staff sharply, Alede managed to scatter a few of the faeries and broke into the open next to Legolas. He stood upon the dais and Alede was briefly aware of a woman seated on the throne beside him and Elrohir standing beyond. Magic poured from the woman, but Alede had eyes only for Legolas and ignored the unseen threat she felt from the Faerie woman.
Legolas stood rigidly at attention beside the throne, his eyes were blank with enchantment. Someone had clothed him in fine garments, but they were not real. Alede could see his own tattered and torn garments beneath. The faerie clothing was as insubstantial as mist.
*So, he was not enchanted without a struggle.*
She grabbed Legolas' arm, looking up into his blank eyes, hoping to reach him. The enchantment was very strong, though she could hear the panicked notes of his song. Some part of his mind was still free of the magical prison. Alede thought that he feared for her, but there was more beneath the urgent worry.
Much more.
Following some inner impulse, Alede pushed aside the collar of the bright tunic he wore, exposing an expanse of skin. Dark red marks and four long scratches marred his chest.
Scratches, like that of fingernails.
Realization dawned and Alede looked up again, hearing the unspoken agony and fury in Legolas' mind. She spun around, facing the deadly power seated on the throne and found herself looking at the most regal woman she'd ever seen.
The Faerie Queen.
The Faerie Queen was dressed in shimmering gauze and was so thin and pale, Alede imagined she could see through her. Her hair was pure white, though not with age, it was simply without color . . .
*As her eyes are without warmth.*
The Queen rose slowly from her throne, her sculpted face set in a mask of rage. Obviously, she was already aware of Alede's purpose.
"Who are you that invades my kingdom?" the Queen asked, her voice ringing out like a bell.
Alede's face hardened. She tossed the ball of yarn away from her, so it would not interfere with her magic. Then she stabbed her staff down upon the dais with a clash of sound that echoed all over the suddenly quiet cavern. She drew it around her in a circle, scribing an encircling spell on the smooth floor.
"Who am I?" Alede repeated, her voice as cold as death. She took one more look at Legolas before facing her adversary and answering.
"I am Retribution."
~ ~ ~
A/N: Looks like the Faerie Queen could use a bit of retribution after what she'd done to our Elf! Chapter 21, coming soon!
By the way, I've forgotten to explain that the word "faerie" is the Olde English spelling of our current "fairy". I used the old English to honor Tolkien and his fascination with ancient languages. (Thank you, Thecla for reminding me! :) Also, these faeries are not the tiny creatures of modern mythology. Ancient faeries were the size of humans, it was not until the Victorian era that they began to shrink in size and became confused with pixies, which are tiny.
Since all of you did so well with the foreshadowing of the yellow rose, you may be interested to know that the creature "Green Meg" that Legolas frightened Alede with back in Mirkwood, in "The Caverns of Mirkwood" was a foreshadowing of their encounter with Faerie creatures in this story.
Sorry, it comes from having a classical literature education. :D
Hmm . . . I wonder just what types of foreshadowing there is in this story for the 4th Legolas/Alede adventure entitled, "The Gryphon's Tears"? :D