A/N - My apologies for the length of time this chapter has taken me to upload, but in my defense I took a small vacation since the last time I updated.
As always, thank you to those of you who reviewed my last chapter. I love reading them. For PuterPatty, yes Annalome and Legolas will discover her true heritage eventually, but not for some time yet. I like the mysteriousness of it all. And much thanks for keeping me excited about this story. It actually has a lot to do with your storyline(Shameless Plug: go read PuterPatty's El gwedh enni A Star is binding me - it is fantastic!) To Kallie, you are a very observant reader, which I appreciate tremendously. First of all, yes Annalome looks exactly the same as when she left, but I did not have Legolas note that since I figured as an elf he would be used to that and the idea might not come to mind all that readily. As for how many brothers and sisters Legolas has, well I don't have any exact figure in mind, but I had sort of decided in my head that he has lots. Here's my reasoning: If I go under the assumption that Legolas was the last of the Woodland Elves to be born in Middle-earth(which I do) then I figure Thranduil and Faenwen (my made-up name for his wife) were, excuse the expression, shagging like bunnies all the time. So, in my little fantasy world there are alot of little princes and princesses of Mirkwood. As for not mentioning them, I was very vague about a lot of details in the beginning, because I needed to set the stage for the main story, which is what you have been reading since Chapter 5. I didn't want to get bogged down in all the details so I didn't. My apologies if this has lessened the story for you, but in general I do have these little details stored in my own head, so if there is anything you want to know just ask away. Also, you asked about Gaerlin and Annalome visiting one another, well again my thoughts were that there is relatively little interaction between the realms of men and the elves. The heirs of Isildur will visit some of the elven lands to train and learn from them, but for the most part the elves have been holding a grudge because of Isildur, and they don't interact. As for Gaerlin visiting Annalome? I don't know, I just thought it would be sadder if they hadn't, but you bring up a good point. I may change this if I feel motivated enough to do so. And lastly, the year for the current story is exactly what you thought, about 1050 of the third age. According to Tolkien this about the time that Dol Guldur came about, and that is the main focus of my story. I don't give exact dates, because it makes my life a lot easier if I just estimate the timeframe. BTW, Kallie, I really love that you get into the details so much!
OK, one last little tidbit. Annalome's healing ability comes back into play during this chapter. I realize that strange healing abilities often are a sign of a Mary-sue. I just wanted to let anyone who might want to read this know that her healing ability is central to the role she is going to play in Legolas's life as well as being an integral part of her character. I really hope this does not give anyone that creepy Mary-Sue vibe, and please if it is over-the-top I want to know. I do think that the end of this story will put all into the proper perspective, however.
All right, I have written a novel before the chapter even begins, so I will stop now. Thanks once again to everyone out there reading, and especially those who have taken the time to review. Now on with the chapter.
Chapter Seven
Premonitions of Dol Guldur
The company had traveled toward Amon-i-taur throughout the morning and now found themselves at the foot of the large hill. Not a breath of wind stirred through the vast oaks of southern Greenwood the Great. The heat of the sun felt stifling despite the generous shade of the trees. It was difficult not to choke on the air as one took a breath, and although no scent could be detected it somehow seemed fetid and unwholesome in the mouth. Legolas swallowed trying to ignore the queasiness that the air induced. The prince examined the trees in front of him. The uneasiness which he had been feeling as they came closer to the hill had grown.
Legolas sensed that the land around him had changed. Though everything appeared to be in the full, lush growth of summer there was something that whispered of death from the earth itself. Inwardly, he shivered. In all his years in his father's kingdom he had never encountered such vileness. What he felt he had only heard of in stories told by others of his race -- those who had fought great evil in ages past -- and yet the evils met in those stories had gone from Middle-earth long ago. Morgoth had been cast out of Ea never to return, and Isildur had destroyed Sauron, but Legolas was more certain than ever that something bearing a great malevolence was nearby.
Perhaps a new source of evil had found its home here in the far reaches of his father's kingdom. It was said that Morgoth's marring of the Song of Illuvatar would never allow the world to be free from the wicked. Elves and later men had waged constant battle against the forces of evil since the first elves awoke at Lake Cuivienen. It had been more than one thousand years since Sauron fell to Isildur's sword - more than enough time for a new power to have arisen to take his place. The elf-prince allowed himself a moment of sorrow at the thought that it might be his own realm which cradled such darkness. He was hesitant to share his conjecture with the others for he still did not know with any certainty what it was that filled him with so much dread. Whatever was the source of his fears, however, would be found on Amon-i-taur, and the prince was determined to discover it.
Legolas turned Curusul to his right and proceeded along a path that would take them around and up the sides of the vast hill. The sound of the others following his lead sounded loud in his ears. The earth here was quiet, guarded. Everywhere in this great wood the presence of the elves was welcome, but here on the sides of Amon-i-taur there was watchfulness and fear. The earth sensed the evil and the presence of the elves, but it feared what the coming together of these two forces might bring.
Turning to his right he saw Annalome sitting straight in Argil's saddle, and he considered this new addition to his company. She learned to ride in the fashion of the elves, but the world of men has changed her. She is a mystery, neither of the realms of man nor of the firstborn. What is her purpose? The elf sighed softly. Perhaps I should introduce her to Mithrandir. He may have some notion of her parentage.
Sensing the elf's stare the woman turned and smiled sadly, "The land is unwell, Legolas. I can feel the taint upon it as I would an infection of the body." Annalome wiped her hands on her dress as if they had been soiled, "Something festers within the earth itself." Legolas nodded but said nothing. Her own observations confirmed his and yet provided no insight as to the cause. A single drop of sweat rolled down the prince's temple. Legolas paid it no heed, but concentrated on fording a path.
His eyes detected nothing out of the ordinary. There had seen neither animals nor birds since the raven of the previous evening. The thought of the foul bird sickened him even more than the feel of the air, and he had to concentrate to avoid emptying his stomach. The vast oaks around him looked healthy and strong, their large branches bearing the wide, green leaves of their manner. He could find no physical evidence of his feelings, and yet the feelings remained. In fact, they grew stronger with each of Curusul's footfalls.
The company wound their way slowly up the gentle slopes of Amon-i-taur throughout the afternoon. Nothing changed as they made their way, except the growing feeling of uneasiness. The tension felt as a bowstring stretched to its breaking point, but yet nothing happened. Ainaelin and Teiglin held bows with arrows set to string, and Tauron and Curuwen had loosened their swords within their sheaths. Each had laid one hand on their sword's pommel in case it was needed at a moment's notice. Annalome held her longknife unsheathed, as did Legolas with a second hanging at his thigh if needed. Everyone searched the surrounding wood for any sign of a foe, any indication of an attack.
The sun had begun to sink in the western sky when Legolas halted the small group. He dismounted his horse, knife still in his right hand and walked to a nearby oak. It was a young tree for Greenwood the Great. Its short stature and thin trunk and branches spoke of little more than twenty years growth. Legolas stretched one arm to reach some of the bottommost leaves, plucking one from the limb. Even in the fading light of day the elf could discern the mottled yellow and black spots covering the leaf. They were near the summit of the hill, and this was the first actual indication of any disease in the forest.
He heard Annalome behind him dismounting. Turning to face her he showed her the leaf. She took the leaf from his hand and held it close to her face squinting to see in the darkened forest. Turning it over in her hand to see both sides she frowned as she examined the mottled leaf. "I have never seen such symptoms as this in the great oaks, nor in any other tree that I have encountered. Yet..." Annalome's frown deepened, "I am certain that this affliction is a result of this evil presence we have all felt. By your leave, Legolas, I would like to examine the tree further."
Legolas nodded, "It is time we made our camp for the evening anyhow. I do not like the feel of this place, but I do not think we should be moving by night. We will build a fire tonight. If there is an enemy afoot then they are aware of our presence by now. And somehow..." the prince stared into the trees which rose up toward the summit, "somehow I think the fire is . . . warranted." The others quickly dismounted, "Do not remove the horses from our camp, Ainaelin, I want them nearby in the event that we must depart this place quickly. We will sleep on the earth tonight."
The others dismounted and began making preparations for the camp. Legolas instructed Ainaelin and Teiglin to search the surrounding area while Curuwen and Tauron gathered wood and lit their campfire. There was more than enough kindling and dead branches in the surrounding wood. More than should be present amongst healthy trees, thought Legolas. The prince instructed the two elves to build a large fire, and to gather enough fuel to keep it thus. Heeding their prince's orders Curuwen and Tauron immediately returned to the surrounding trees to gather more wood.
Darkness had begun to cover the forest in its purple shroud. There was no sign of Teiglin or Ainaelin as of yet, but Legolas was certain the two would take extra precautions in securing their camp for that evening. The prince turned his attention to Annalome who stood with both hands resting on the diseased oak's trunk. Even in the failing light the elf-prince could discern the look of disgust present on the woman's face. Whatever it was she was sensing was clearly not pleasant.
Annalome's healing abilities had been of some import even in the elven hall of Miregroth. She had been called upon countless times to heal the sick and wounded, and was able to bring them to full health in almost every instance. The elves were known to have healing powers beyond that of men, but Annalome's abilities were beyond even that of the most skilled elven physicians -- another mystery which the elves chose to ignore for the most part, unless her services were required. He wondered how the young girl had coped with her abilities while at Miregroth, and if the elves indifference had been distressing to her.
She had not chosen to disguise her abilities when she had gone to Arnor, and he had heard the stories of the miraculous recoveries of those placed under her care. But as is the wont of men things that defy their knowledge and custom are frequently scorned and often feared. The elves who traveled outside of his kingdom had returned with stories of the Witch of Arnor - a woman who defied the grave and who possessed powers of destruction. And because of this Annalome was eventually forced from her home by her own kin. Fear was a powerful force in Middle-earth. Fear held little conscience or remorse, and fear knew only self-preservation and was without mercy.
Almost unknowingly the prince's head turned in the direction of the summit of Amon-i-taur searching for the hidden enemy his elven senses told him was there. He sensed the fear within himself, and the fear of the earth under his feet. Would fear prevail here? Will I allow it to control my decisions? Dark thoughts pervaded Legolas's mind, and the prince sought escape.
Going to a large oak directly in front of him, and placing one slender hand on the lowest branch, Legolas hoisted himself into its branches. Swiftly he moved from branch to branch ever upwards into the canopy of the vast forest. In no time he had made his way into the uppermost branches of the tallest oak in the vicinity. From there he could see much of the forest below and also look into the trees crowning Amon-i-taur. There was little wind up above Greenwood the Great as below, but the air did not seem rotted and rank here. Legolas gulped down deep draughts displacing the old air with the new.
Suddenly he felt eyes upon him. Twisting from his perch he looked toward the summit once again. The feeling had come from that direction, but he could see nothing in the surrounding trees. Nothing moved in that airless space, and yet there was something watching him. Legolas stared in the direction of the hidden watcher, eyes searching in the darkness for any sign. Hatred and malice flowed towards him from the blackness of the trees. It was not directed at him in particular, but at those who walked in the light. Whatever it was it was spawned of the shadows and dark places of the world, and it loathed all that lived under the sun's warmth. It lived to hate.
Legolas felt the branch give way under his foot and reached out to grasp the nearby thin trunk, but it too broke off in his hand. Unable to stop his fall the elf grasped frantically at the air. His body bounced from limb to limb jarring his shoulder and then a thigh. A broken branch grated his back as his left hand managed to finally grasp something solid. His arm felt as if it might be ripped from his body as he came to a sudden stop. He hung there a moment gathering his senses.
Curuwen called from below, "My lord, is that you?"
"Yes..." Legolas stopped short as he discovered shouting produced a stabbing pain in his back.
"Have you fallen, Prince Legolas? Are you injured?" The concern in Curuwen's voice was undisguised.
Gritting his teeth Legolas called down again, "I am coming down." With some effort he landed on a branch just below him. Pain ripped through his left leg, and he had to fight to keep his balance on the broad limb. The jolt from the landing proved overwhelming, and the prince moaned softly in his distress. Still, his stubborn pride would not allow for the others to be forced to retrieve him, and so with agonizing slowness the elf-prince made his way to the forest floor. The final drop to the ground however, proved too much. His back began to spasm as his leg gave way, and he fell at once to his knees.
Instantly the others gathered around him. "This is a task for a healer. Annalome, help him." The voice was Teiglin's. Legolas would have smiled if not for the pain. His sister's son had always played nursemaid to the prince whenever he managed to injure himself.
Cool hands touched his face. The left hand felt smooth, but the first two finger of the right hand felt rough in comparison. An archer's hands, thought the prince. The hands drifted to his back and within moments the spasms ceased. The prince dared not move again for fear of sending the muscles into seizure once again. Heat seemed to build in the agitated muscles until it seemed to Legolas that they must be on fire, and yet the sensation was not painful. Suddenly the heat disappeared and was gone. The hands moved.
As Annalome's hands contacted his shoulder he became aware of how much it ached. Within moments the heat had returned, growing and growing. Time drifted slowly as the healing continued until, once again, the heat dissipated suddenly leaving no pain. The hands moved once again. "Legolas, you can rise. Your back should not give you pain. Turn and sit, and I will see to your leg."
Legolas obeyed, slowly at first, until he realized that there was, in fact, no pain. He turned himself and sat on the ground, leg stretched out before him. The limb ached from the movement, and there was the scarlet of his blood soaked into his leggings. An odd lump was visible in the material. The severity of the wound was soon forgotten, however, as Annalome placed both hands on his thigh. He watched her even as the now familiar heat began to build once again. Her eyes were shut, but he could see the intense concentration in her face. He felt nothing, but cried out in awe as he watched the lump slowly disappear leaving only the smooth contour of his muscled thigh. The heat became intense and he felt his breathing coming in short ragged gasps. He felt as if he could not endure another second when suddenly it ended.
Annalome knelt over him, eyes still closed. She was breathing hard, as if she had been running for some great distance. Legolas placed his hand on her shoulder, "Are you well, Annalome?"
Opening her eyes Annalome smiled weakly, "I am well, Legolas, only very tired. Healing requires much strength, and your wounds were severe."
"You have my gratitude."
"Think nothing of it, Legolas." Annalome grinned, "Now, rise, Prince, and tell me if my healing talents have diminished."
Legolas stared at her in surprise, but she only nodded her assurance. Taking Teiglin's outstretched hand Legolas rose to his feet. No hint of pain or stiffness remained of his wounds. The only sign that he had been injured was the vast bloodstain on his leggings. "I am fully healed, Annalome. Your talents show no signs of atrophy."
Annalome smiled once more. Legolas knelt and grasping her about the waist helped her to rise. "You must rest by the fire now." He led her over to the roaring blaze that Curuwen and Tauron had built. He helped her down to rest against the trunk of one of the nearby oaks.
"My lord?" Teiglin interrupted, "How came you to be injured?"
Legolas frowned. "It is a strange thing, Teiglin. I had climbed to the top of that oak tree for a better view of our surroundings. There was little to see, but I became aware of something watching me. I could not discern it in the darkness of the trees, but I am certain it was coming from the direction of the summit of this hill. I felt its gaze upon me, and it was filled with hatred. It was then that the branch gave way beneath me. I cannot understand why because it was more than large enough to bear my weight. I reached out for the trunk of the tree to keep me from falling. It too broke, though I do not see how for it seemed hale and strong to me as well. I fell for some time before I was able to catch hold of a branch." The prince shook his head in disbelief, "I do not understand what happened. The branch should not have broken so easily."
"I believe I understand what happened, Legolas," Annalome said. "While you were giving orders to set up camp I examined that tree over there. Its leaves are mottled with black and yellow, but this is only a symptom of a greater tragedy." Annalome pulled the longknife from her belt and suddenly thrust it into the trunk of the tree she was resting against. The elves cried out to see such violence done to one of the earth's living creatures, but Annalome raised a hand to forego their protests. "Come and see," Annalome jerked the blade free of the tree as the others gathered close.
A black liquid oozed forth from Annalome's cut. Even in the darkness of twilight the fluid appeared as midnight, thick and disgusting. Curuwen removed herself from the group and she could be heard vomiting not far away. Legolas stood motionless for a moment before he suddenly grasped Annalome and pulled her away from the tree and its oozing wound. "How can this be? I have never encountered the like."
"Nor I," Annalome answered, "but it says much as to why the tree could not bear your weight. The trees here are rotting, Legolas, but from the inside out. That is why we could discern nothing wrong. That tree is small and young compared to most in this area of the forest. It is only now exhibiting on the outside what has clearly been affecting it on the inside for some time now."
Legolas still stared in horror at the oak tree. His mind reeled at the thought of what could have produced such a sickness. A part of him wanted to set fire to the forest, and thereby destroy whatever venom flowed into the living things here. And yet his elven sensibilities were sickened at the thought. No Woodland Elf would even consider harming a tree, but this newfound disease repulsed him.
For what seemed an eternity of moments all stood there in the light of the fire staring at the blackness as it oozed forth. Legolas, however, was the son of Thranduil, King of the Woodland elves. It was said that his stubbornness rivaled that of the dwarven lords, and this had been imparted to his offspring. Where shock and abhorrence had been now came resolve. Turning to face the others he said, "We will set watch this evening. Teiglin and Curuwen will have the first watch. Tauron and Ainaelin will take second, and Annalome and I will guard the morning hours."
Those of the elven race were slow to anger, but once done they were fierce in their retribution. Legolas had never felt such rage before. This was his home, and there would be no rest for those who had brought about this affliction. "Whatever has sickened the trees of Greenwood the Great we will seek it out, and we will bring it or them to my father for him to render justice. Though I cannot imagine what punishment would suffice for such an atrocity."
The other elves only nodded slowly and then turned to perform their duties for the evening. Legolas, still supporting Annalome helped her nearer to the fire, but he did not allow her to rest against any of the nearby trees. He placed a bedroll beneath her head, and laid her cloak atop her. When he looked at her it seemed to him that she wished to say something, but he did not wish for companionship then. As soon as he was certain of her comfort he removed himself far from the others.
His thoughts roamed in darkness for the remainder of the evening, and he remained apart from the others even when the meal was served. Teiglin and Curuwen moved to their positions at the outskirts of the camp, and Teiglin suggested the prince go to his own bedroll and rest. He waved him off, and did not even notice the elf's sigh of resignation as he left. Evening melted into night, and the prince remained awake and alone with his thoughts when he suddenly became aware of the presence. The eyes had returned.
As always, thank you to those of you who reviewed my last chapter. I love reading them. For PuterPatty, yes Annalome and Legolas will discover her true heritage eventually, but not for some time yet. I like the mysteriousness of it all. And much thanks for keeping me excited about this story. It actually has a lot to do with your storyline(Shameless Plug: go read PuterPatty's El gwedh enni A Star is binding me - it is fantastic!) To Kallie, you are a very observant reader, which I appreciate tremendously. First of all, yes Annalome looks exactly the same as when she left, but I did not have Legolas note that since I figured as an elf he would be used to that and the idea might not come to mind all that readily. As for how many brothers and sisters Legolas has, well I don't have any exact figure in mind, but I had sort of decided in my head that he has lots. Here's my reasoning: If I go under the assumption that Legolas was the last of the Woodland Elves to be born in Middle-earth(which I do) then I figure Thranduil and Faenwen (my made-up name for his wife) were, excuse the expression, shagging like bunnies all the time. So, in my little fantasy world there are alot of little princes and princesses of Mirkwood. As for not mentioning them, I was very vague about a lot of details in the beginning, because I needed to set the stage for the main story, which is what you have been reading since Chapter 5. I didn't want to get bogged down in all the details so I didn't. My apologies if this has lessened the story for you, but in general I do have these little details stored in my own head, so if there is anything you want to know just ask away. Also, you asked about Gaerlin and Annalome visiting one another, well again my thoughts were that there is relatively little interaction between the realms of men and the elves. The heirs of Isildur will visit some of the elven lands to train and learn from them, but for the most part the elves have been holding a grudge because of Isildur, and they don't interact. As for Gaerlin visiting Annalome? I don't know, I just thought it would be sadder if they hadn't, but you bring up a good point. I may change this if I feel motivated enough to do so. And lastly, the year for the current story is exactly what you thought, about 1050 of the third age. According to Tolkien this about the time that Dol Guldur came about, and that is the main focus of my story. I don't give exact dates, because it makes my life a lot easier if I just estimate the timeframe. BTW, Kallie, I really love that you get into the details so much!
OK, one last little tidbit. Annalome's healing ability comes back into play during this chapter. I realize that strange healing abilities often are a sign of a Mary-sue. I just wanted to let anyone who might want to read this know that her healing ability is central to the role she is going to play in Legolas's life as well as being an integral part of her character. I really hope this does not give anyone that creepy Mary-Sue vibe, and please if it is over-the-top I want to know. I do think that the end of this story will put all into the proper perspective, however.
All right, I have written a novel before the chapter even begins, so I will stop now. Thanks once again to everyone out there reading, and especially those who have taken the time to review. Now on with the chapter.
Chapter Seven
Premonitions of Dol Guldur
The company had traveled toward Amon-i-taur throughout the morning and now found themselves at the foot of the large hill. Not a breath of wind stirred through the vast oaks of southern Greenwood the Great. The heat of the sun felt stifling despite the generous shade of the trees. It was difficult not to choke on the air as one took a breath, and although no scent could be detected it somehow seemed fetid and unwholesome in the mouth. Legolas swallowed trying to ignore the queasiness that the air induced. The prince examined the trees in front of him. The uneasiness which he had been feeling as they came closer to the hill had grown.
Legolas sensed that the land around him had changed. Though everything appeared to be in the full, lush growth of summer there was something that whispered of death from the earth itself. Inwardly, he shivered. In all his years in his father's kingdom he had never encountered such vileness. What he felt he had only heard of in stories told by others of his race -- those who had fought great evil in ages past -- and yet the evils met in those stories had gone from Middle-earth long ago. Morgoth had been cast out of Ea never to return, and Isildur had destroyed Sauron, but Legolas was more certain than ever that something bearing a great malevolence was nearby.
Perhaps a new source of evil had found its home here in the far reaches of his father's kingdom. It was said that Morgoth's marring of the Song of Illuvatar would never allow the world to be free from the wicked. Elves and later men had waged constant battle against the forces of evil since the first elves awoke at Lake Cuivienen. It had been more than one thousand years since Sauron fell to Isildur's sword - more than enough time for a new power to have arisen to take his place. The elf-prince allowed himself a moment of sorrow at the thought that it might be his own realm which cradled such darkness. He was hesitant to share his conjecture with the others for he still did not know with any certainty what it was that filled him with so much dread. Whatever was the source of his fears, however, would be found on Amon-i-taur, and the prince was determined to discover it.
Legolas turned Curusul to his right and proceeded along a path that would take them around and up the sides of the vast hill. The sound of the others following his lead sounded loud in his ears. The earth here was quiet, guarded. Everywhere in this great wood the presence of the elves was welcome, but here on the sides of Amon-i-taur there was watchfulness and fear. The earth sensed the evil and the presence of the elves, but it feared what the coming together of these two forces might bring.
Turning to his right he saw Annalome sitting straight in Argil's saddle, and he considered this new addition to his company. She learned to ride in the fashion of the elves, but the world of men has changed her. She is a mystery, neither of the realms of man nor of the firstborn. What is her purpose? The elf sighed softly. Perhaps I should introduce her to Mithrandir. He may have some notion of her parentage.
Sensing the elf's stare the woman turned and smiled sadly, "The land is unwell, Legolas. I can feel the taint upon it as I would an infection of the body." Annalome wiped her hands on her dress as if they had been soiled, "Something festers within the earth itself." Legolas nodded but said nothing. Her own observations confirmed his and yet provided no insight as to the cause. A single drop of sweat rolled down the prince's temple. Legolas paid it no heed, but concentrated on fording a path.
His eyes detected nothing out of the ordinary. There had seen neither animals nor birds since the raven of the previous evening. The thought of the foul bird sickened him even more than the feel of the air, and he had to concentrate to avoid emptying his stomach. The vast oaks around him looked healthy and strong, their large branches bearing the wide, green leaves of their manner. He could find no physical evidence of his feelings, and yet the feelings remained. In fact, they grew stronger with each of Curusul's footfalls.
The company wound their way slowly up the gentle slopes of Amon-i-taur throughout the afternoon. Nothing changed as they made their way, except the growing feeling of uneasiness. The tension felt as a bowstring stretched to its breaking point, but yet nothing happened. Ainaelin and Teiglin held bows with arrows set to string, and Tauron and Curuwen had loosened their swords within their sheaths. Each had laid one hand on their sword's pommel in case it was needed at a moment's notice. Annalome held her longknife unsheathed, as did Legolas with a second hanging at his thigh if needed. Everyone searched the surrounding wood for any sign of a foe, any indication of an attack.
The sun had begun to sink in the western sky when Legolas halted the small group. He dismounted his horse, knife still in his right hand and walked to a nearby oak. It was a young tree for Greenwood the Great. Its short stature and thin trunk and branches spoke of little more than twenty years growth. Legolas stretched one arm to reach some of the bottommost leaves, plucking one from the limb. Even in the fading light of day the elf could discern the mottled yellow and black spots covering the leaf. They were near the summit of the hill, and this was the first actual indication of any disease in the forest.
He heard Annalome behind him dismounting. Turning to face her he showed her the leaf. She took the leaf from his hand and held it close to her face squinting to see in the darkened forest. Turning it over in her hand to see both sides she frowned as she examined the mottled leaf. "I have never seen such symptoms as this in the great oaks, nor in any other tree that I have encountered. Yet..." Annalome's frown deepened, "I am certain that this affliction is a result of this evil presence we have all felt. By your leave, Legolas, I would like to examine the tree further."
Legolas nodded, "It is time we made our camp for the evening anyhow. I do not like the feel of this place, but I do not think we should be moving by night. We will build a fire tonight. If there is an enemy afoot then they are aware of our presence by now. And somehow..." the prince stared into the trees which rose up toward the summit, "somehow I think the fire is . . . warranted." The others quickly dismounted, "Do not remove the horses from our camp, Ainaelin, I want them nearby in the event that we must depart this place quickly. We will sleep on the earth tonight."
The others dismounted and began making preparations for the camp. Legolas instructed Ainaelin and Teiglin to search the surrounding area while Curuwen and Tauron gathered wood and lit their campfire. There was more than enough kindling and dead branches in the surrounding wood. More than should be present amongst healthy trees, thought Legolas. The prince instructed the two elves to build a large fire, and to gather enough fuel to keep it thus. Heeding their prince's orders Curuwen and Tauron immediately returned to the surrounding trees to gather more wood.
Darkness had begun to cover the forest in its purple shroud. There was no sign of Teiglin or Ainaelin as of yet, but Legolas was certain the two would take extra precautions in securing their camp for that evening. The prince turned his attention to Annalome who stood with both hands resting on the diseased oak's trunk. Even in the failing light the elf-prince could discern the look of disgust present on the woman's face. Whatever it was she was sensing was clearly not pleasant.
Annalome's healing abilities had been of some import even in the elven hall of Miregroth. She had been called upon countless times to heal the sick and wounded, and was able to bring them to full health in almost every instance. The elves were known to have healing powers beyond that of men, but Annalome's abilities were beyond even that of the most skilled elven physicians -- another mystery which the elves chose to ignore for the most part, unless her services were required. He wondered how the young girl had coped with her abilities while at Miregroth, and if the elves indifference had been distressing to her.
She had not chosen to disguise her abilities when she had gone to Arnor, and he had heard the stories of the miraculous recoveries of those placed under her care. But as is the wont of men things that defy their knowledge and custom are frequently scorned and often feared. The elves who traveled outside of his kingdom had returned with stories of the Witch of Arnor - a woman who defied the grave and who possessed powers of destruction. And because of this Annalome was eventually forced from her home by her own kin. Fear was a powerful force in Middle-earth. Fear held little conscience or remorse, and fear knew only self-preservation and was without mercy.
Almost unknowingly the prince's head turned in the direction of the summit of Amon-i-taur searching for the hidden enemy his elven senses told him was there. He sensed the fear within himself, and the fear of the earth under his feet. Would fear prevail here? Will I allow it to control my decisions? Dark thoughts pervaded Legolas's mind, and the prince sought escape.
Going to a large oak directly in front of him, and placing one slender hand on the lowest branch, Legolas hoisted himself into its branches. Swiftly he moved from branch to branch ever upwards into the canopy of the vast forest. In no time he had made his way into the uppermost branches of the tallest oak in the vicinity. From there he could see much of the forest below and also look into the trees crowning Amon-i-taur. There was little wind up above Greenwood the Great as below, but the air did not seem rotted and rank here. Legolas gulped down deep draughts displacing the old air with the new.
Suddenly he felt eyes upon him. Twisting from his perch he looked toward the summit once again. The feeling had come from that direction, but he could see nothing in the surrounding trees. Nothing moved in that airless space, and yet there was something watching him. Legolas stared in the direction of the hidden watcher, eyes searching in the darkness for any sign. Hatred and malice flowed towards him from the blackness of the trees. It was not directed at him in particular, but at those who walked in the light. Whatever it was it was spawned of the shadows and dark places of the world, and it loathed all that lived under the sun's warmth. It lived to hate.
Legolas felt the branch give way under his foot and reached out to grasp the nearby thin trunk, but it too broke off in his hand. Unable to stop his fall the elf grasped frantically at the air. His body bounced from limb to limb jarring his shoulder and then a thigh. A broken branch grated his back as his left hand managed to finally grasp something solid. His arm felt as if it might be ripped from his body as he came to a sudden stop. He hung there a moment gathering his senses.
Curuwen called from below, "My lord, is that you?"
"Yes..." Legolas stopped short as he discovered shouting produced a stabbing pain in his back.
"Have you fallen, Prince Legolas? Are you injured?" The concern in Curuwen's voice was undisguised.
Gritting his teeth Legolas called down again, "I am coming down." With some effort he landed on a branch just below him. Pain ripped through his left leg, and he had to fight to keep his balance on the broad limb. The jolt from the landing proved overwhelming, and the prince moaned softly in his distress. Still, his stubborn pride would not allow for the others to be forced to retrieve him, and so with agonizing slowness the elf-prince made his way to the forest floor. The final drop to the ground however, proved too much. His back began to spasm as his leg gave way, and he fell at once to his knees.
Instantly the others gathered around him. "This is a task for a healer. Annalome, help him." The voice was Teiglin's. Legolas would have smiled if not for the pain. His sister's son had always played nursemaid to the prince whenever he managed to injure himself.
Cool hands touched his face. The left hand felt smooth, but the first two finger of the right hand felt rough in comparison. An archer's hands, thought the prince. The hands drifted to his back and within moments the spasms ceased. The prince dared not move again for fear of sending the muscles into seizure once again. Heat seemed to build in the agitated muscles until it seemed to Legolas that they must be on fire, and yet the sensation was not painful. Suddenly the heat disappeared and was gone. The hands moved.
As Annalome's hands contacted his shoulder he became aware of how much it ached. Within moments the heat had returned, growing and growing. Time drifted slowly as the healing continued until, once again, the heat dissipated suddenly leaving no pain. The hands moved once again. "Legolas, you can rise. Your back should not give you pain. Turn and sit, and I will see to your leg."
Legolas obeyed, slowly at first, until he realized that there was, in fact, no pain. He turned himself and sat on the ground, leg stretched out before him. The limb ached from the movement, and there was the scarlet of his blood soaked into his leggings. An odd lump was visible in the material. The severity of the wound was soon forgotten, however, as Annalome placed both hands on his thigh. He watched her even as the now familiar heat began to build once again. Her eyes were shut, but he could see the intense concentration in her face. He felt nothing, but cried out in awe as he watched the lump slowly disappear leaving only the smooth contour of his muscled thigh. The heat became intense and he felt his breathing coming in short ragged gasps. He felt as if he could not endure another second when suddenly it ended.
Annalome knelt over him, eyes still closed. She was breathing hard, as if she had been running for some great distance. Legolas placed his hand on her shoulder, "Are you well, Annalome?"
Opening her eyes Annalome smiled weakly, "I am well, Legolas, only very tired. Healing requires much strength, and your wounds were severe."
"You have my gratitude."
"Think nothing of it, Legolas." Annalome grinned, "Now, rise, Prince, and tell me if my healing talents have diminished."
Legolas stared at her in surprise, but she only nodded her assurance. Taking Teiglin's outstretched hand Legolas rose to his feet. No hint of pain or stiffness remained of his wounds. The only sign that he had been injured was the vast bloodstain on his leggings. "I am fully healed, Annalome. Your talents show no signs of atrophy."
Annalome smiled once more. Legolas knelt and grasping her about the waist helped her to rise. "You must rest by the fire now." He led her over to the roaring blaze that Curuwen and Tauron had built. He helped her down to rest against the trunk of one of the nearby oaks.
"My lord?" Teiglin interrupted, "How came you to be injured?"
Legolas frowned. "It is a strange thing, Teiglin. I had climbed to the top of that oak tree for a better view of our surroundings. There was little to see, but I became aware of something watching me. I could not discern it in the darkness of the trees, but I am certain it was coming from the direction of the summit of this hill. I felt its gaze upon me, and it was filled with hatred. It was then that the branch gave way beneath me. I cannot understand why because it was more than large enough to bear my weight. I reached out for the trunk of the tree to keep me from falling. It too broke, though I do not see how for it seemed hale and strong to me as well. I fell for some time before I was able to catch hold of a branch." The prince shook his head in disbelief, "I do not understand what happened. The branch should not have broken so easily."
"I believe I understand what happened, Legolas," Annalome said. "While you were giving orders to set up camp I examined that tree over there. Its leaves are mottled with black and yellow, but this is only a symptom of a greater tragedy." Annalome pulled the longknife from her belt and suddenly thrust it into the trunk of the tree she was resting against. The elves cried out to see such violence done to one of the earth's living creatures, but Annalome raised a hand to forego their protests. "Come and see," Annalome jerked the blade free of the tree as the others gathered close.
A black liquid oozed forth from Annalome's cut. Even in the darkness of twilight the fluid appeared as midnight, thick and disgusting. Curuwen removed herself from the group and she could be heard vomiting not far away. Legolas stood motionless for a moment before he suddenly grasped Annalome and pulled her away from the tree and its oozing wound. "How can this be? I have never encountered the like."
"Nor I," Annalome answered, "but it says much as to why the tree could not bear your weight. The trees here are rotting, Legolas, but from the inside out. That is why we could discern nothing wrong. That tree is small and young compared to most in this area of the forest. It is only now exhibiting on the outside what has clearly been affecting it on the inside for some time now."
Legolas still stared in horror at the oak tree. His mind reeled at the thought of what could have produced such a sickness. A part of him wanted to set fire to the forest, and thereby destroy whatever venom flowed into the living things here. And yet his elven sensibilities were sickened at the thought. No Woodland Elf would even consider harming a tree, but this newfound disease repulsed him.
For what seemed an eternity of moments all stood there in the light of the fire staring at the blackness as it oozed forth. Legolas, however, was the son of Thranduil, King of the Woodland elves. It was said that his stubbornness rivaled that of the dwarven lords, and this had been imparted to his offspring. Where shock and abhorrence had been now came resolve. Turning to face the others he said, "We will set watch this evening. Teiglin and Curuwen will have the first watch. Tauron and Ainaelin will take second, and Annalome and I will guard the morning hours."
Those of the elven race were slow to anger, but once done they were fierce in their retribution. Legolas had never felt such rage before. This was his home, and there would be no rest for those who had brought about this affliction. "Whatever has sickened the trees of Greenwood the Great we will seek it out, and we will bring it or them to my father for him to render justice. Though I cannot imagine what punishment would suffice for such an atrocity."
The other elves only nodded slowly and then turned to perform their duties for the evening. Legolas, still supporting Annalome helped her nearer to the fire, but he did not allow her to rest against any of the nearby trees. He placed a bedroll beneath her head, and laid her cloak atop her. When he looked at her it seemed to him that she wished to say something, but he did not wish for companionship then. As soon as he was certain of her comfort he removed himself far from the others.
His thoughts roamed in darkness for the remainder of the evening, and he remained apart from the others even when the meal was served. Teiglin and Curuwen moved to their positions at the outskirts of the camp, and Teiglin suggested the prince go to his own bedroll and rest. He waved him off, and did not even notice the elf's sigh of resignation as he left. Evening melted into night, and the prince remained awake and alone with his thoughts when he suddenly became aware of the presence. The eyes had returned.