Author's Note: See Disclaimer
Disclaimer: See Author's Note
Okay, okay, Disclaimer in Chapter One. Author's Note below.
Please Read and Review! Stress on the review part. Thanks to everyone who has done so! I am calling this Chapter Six Part One because the next chapter will be a continuation, and they are kind of hard to separate. Same night, same people, etc.
Chapter Six Part One
Strangers in the Palace
Strider flopped back onto the large pillow Legolas had sacrificed so that his friend could be more comfortable. The throb in the ranger's neck had extended to his shoulder, and he rubbed to sore spot furiously. Derek and Peter spread out their blankets on the floor next to the bed. The fire had long since been reduced to embers and ashes; outside a cold wind rustled the leaves of the beeches. Still rubbing his shoulder, Strider got up, closed the curtains, and walked back to the bed.
"How come you get the bed?" Peter complained. Barely seventeen, he was the youngest of the travelers, and the most prone to voice his feelings aloud.
"Because when Legolas is not here," Strider replied, with an air of finality, "I am the oldest."
He rolled over, pulling the blankets over his head.
Sighing, Peter looked to Derek for support. "Is that any reason to make me sleep on the floor?"
Derek shrugged. He was lying on his back; eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling. Peter shook him soundly.
"Derek? Are you listening to me?"
"Shush Peter!" Derek answered harshly. "Leave me alone."
"What are you doing?"
Turning his head, Derek frowned. "Don't you hear the voices?"
"You mean the elves?"
"Yes."
"I hear it. What about it?" When Derek didn't answer, Peter prodded him. "Derek, what are they singing about?"
"I don't know their speech," Derek sounded irritated.
"They sing one of the songs of Oropher," Strider answered from the blanket. "It tells of how the elves came to live in Greenwood, and how they delved great caverns for themselves under the mountain."
"Elves dig holes?" Peter asked curiously. His knowledge of elves was limited, but he had never heard of digging elves before.
"Well actually," Derek replied, proud of his knowledge, "Dwarves were hired to dig for the elves. But after they were finished, the elves refused to pay them."
Peter looked aghast. "Why?"
"Because the elves wanted to keep the treasure all for themselves."
"Treasure? There's treasure here?" Peter almost squealed.
Derek nodded secretively. "Deep beneath the palace, where no one lives, there is treasure. Mountains of it. They say the walls of the treasure holds are made of gold and jewels, stolen from the dwarves long ago."
"Really?"
"That's what the dwarves say." Strider interrupted sleepily. "But I doubt it's any more than legend and myth. Now get some sleep."
Derek shook his head. "I can't sleep here." He didn't know how to explain it, but somehow he felt on edge in the elvish palace, several feet within a mountain. Although Legolas had made sure they were given one of the upper rooms, he still felt uncomfortable about being surrounded by these mysterious creatures. He'd tried to talk to Legolas about it, but had only earned himself a blank look and shoulder shrug.
"I don't see what's the big deal," Legolas had said.
Of course he didn't. He was one of them.
"So about this treasure," Peter continued in a whisper.
"Peter!" Aragorn sounded exasperated. "Most likely the treasure does not exist, and even if it does, I'm sure you wouldn't be able to find it."
Peter noticed how he stressed the "you" part. "Who says?" he mumbled softly.
But Strider's ear was quick to catch the remark. "I say. Goodnight."
Derek turned over and repeated, "I can't go to sleep."
"Then please be quiet," Strider mumbled. "So the rest of us can."
Sighing softly, Derek fell silent, listening to the eerie voices outside the window, where light, ethereal figures moved among the trees.
The horn of battle called away
Those that came before
Some left the trees of Greenwood Great
To seek another shore
Across the wideness of the World
They went under a starless sky
Until on angry plains, they met
And there prepared to die
Namarie, namarie
For those that came before
Have left the trees of Greenwood Great
And shall return no more
It was about two hours later when Derek awoke, and realized that the voices had lulled him to sleep. But the voices had now ceased, and he wondered what had disturbed his rest. Being a sound sleeper, it was uncommon for him to wake up in the middle of the night. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Derek glanced over at his companions. Strider, swathed in blankets, was shifting frequently, and mumbling something in an unfamiliar language. Peter, on the other hand was absolutely still. So still, it seemed like he was barely breathing. Derek leaned forward, listening. But Peter slept as sound as a dead man…
As the last thought flashed through his mind, he was suddenly filled with alarm. Swiftly, he pulled back the covers from his friend.
"Peter?"
But Peter was gone.
Derek sat up, searching for any sign of his friend.
"Peter?" he whispered, but no answer came.
He thought of waking Strider, but the ranger had given strict orders that he was not to be disturbed during the night. For anything. Ever. Sighing, Derek concluded that he would have to look for Peter alone. He pulled on his boots and tunic, all the while trying to figure out where Peter would have gone, all alone, in an elvish palace, at night. Feeling the blankets of Peter's bed, Derek reasoned that they should still be warm, if he had been gone a short time. They were dead cold.
* Peter wrapped his cloak tighter around him, hugging the wall as he made his way down the passage. The closer he got to the lower caverns, the colder it became. He was just beginning to wish he hadn't left the comfort of the upper floors when a light at the end of the tunnel caught his eye. He hesitated, expecting that any moment someone would jump out at him, but when nothing happened, he braced himself and moved forward.
"If there is any treasure down here, I'm going to be the first one to find it," he thought happily.
At the end of the passage was a solid wood door, fastened with shining silver bolts. Peter turned the handle and the door opened with ease. Again, he hesitated, gaping at the stairwell that led down into a seemingly endless pit of darkness.
"It sure is dark in there," he murmured softly. Then to his surprise, and alarm, the passage suddenly began to glow.
Peter's jaw dropped, and he was just about ready to head back into his room, when the sound of footsteps fell on his ears. They were approaching footsteps, and were accompanied by soft, melodious voices, similar to the ones he had heard outside the window. However, while then they had had a calming, almost intoxicating effect; they now filled him with panic. Without a second thought, he lurched forward into the stairwell and fled down the steps. As he reached the bottom, the lights suddenly went out.
The two elves that guarded that section of the palace stopped in surprise at seeing the door wide open. The tallest one moved to alert the other guards, but his companion stopped him, and whispered something in his ear. From his position at the bottom of the staircase, wedged in between the door and the steps, Derek did not understand much of what he said. But the other Elf seemed to enjoy the idea very much. He approached the stairwell and looking down, called out in the Common Tongue.
"Human, you seem a little lost. If you try the door to your left, you will be in the dungeons. If you try the door to your right, you will be in the old storehouses. And if you try to door directly behind you, you will find yourself- well," he laughed lightly. "That is a secret and so it will be. However, since none but the royal house of Mirkwood can open any of these doors, you will probably remain right where you are, until we see fit to let you out. Goodnight."
He closed the door, and the room plunged once again into bitter darkness. Peter shrunk down into a corner and waited. He waited for them to come back. Surely, they were only kidding, leaving him here all night with nothing to eat or drink, and no one to talk to. Perhaps they were going to tell Strider how careless he was, letting his charges steal around the palace at night. Then again, if Strider was not to be disturbed until morning, Peter just might be there all night. He sighed hopelessly, remembering what the Elf had said about the doors.
"The royal house of Mirkwood, that must mean Legolas and his father…Thranduil." Unfortunately, both of the persons in question were probably sound asleep…
*Thranduil leaned against the door, shouting into the woodwork. He was dressed in his silvery tunic and leggings, crownless, with a gray robe thrown over his broad shoulders. His golden hair fell wildly about his neck. It was obvious that his appearance was the last thing on his mind.
"Legolas! Legolas wake up this instant," he spoke in a voice with enough volume to wake up all the elves from Mirkwood to the Misty Mountains.
"Father?" a sleepy voice answered finally, "Is that…you?"
"Legolas open the door," Thranduil commanded.
After a few moments of silence, the door creaked open, and Legolas looked out, blinking slowly. "Is this important?"
"Legolas, I can't sleep at all. Those intruding strangers you brought in are making enough noise in their sleep to account for an army. I have been lying awake for the last five hours, listening to their mutterings. And if I do try to go to sleep, I have the strangest dreams," he frowned and fell silent.
"What are you going to do about it?" Legolas yawned, rubbing his eyes.
Thranduil shrugged. "I am not altogether certain. I thought of taking a walk outside maybe. I feel stifled; the fresh air might do me some good. What do you think?"
"Take a guard with you," Legolas replied flatly.
"I was hoping you could join me instead."
Without a word, Legolas closed the door.
"I guess that means no," Thranduil said quietly, a trifle disappointed. "I'll be outside, if you need me for anything," he pressed his face against the door.
"So I've heard," answered a muffled, but irritated voice from inside. There was a quiet rustling within the room, and then all was silent. Smiling quietly, Thranduil made his way out of the hallway.
*For lack of anything else to do, Peter sat in the dark and whistled. He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped himself in his cloak. He sang snatches of the elvish song he had heard earlier that night. He dreamed of the warm blanket he'd left upstairs.
"That was a stupid thing to do. I could have at least brought the pillow with me. I'll probably freeze to death overnight, and they'll find me here in the morning all cold and stiff."
"I wouldn't be so sure about that," a voice said from somewhere above him. "I have spent quite a few days down here without incident."
Peter froze, and a silent chill crept up his spine. It seemed like the temperature had just dropped fifty degrees in the last five seconds.
"Don't worry, Peter, I'm not going to hurt you."
"How do you know my name?" Peter whispered.
"Will you do something for me, Peter?" the voice continued smoothly.
"Who are you?"
"I am a friend to," the voice paused, "The ruler of Mirkwood."
Peter narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "What do you want? And why are you hiding down here in the dark?"
"I might ask you the same thing," the voice pointed out wryly.
"That's true," Peter nodded, "But then again, you could stop stalling and answer the question."
"Yes, I could. I have been waiting for you, Peter."
"Well, it's nice to be needed."
"Would you like to get out of here, right now?"
"This sounds like a bribe," Peter smirked.
The voice laughed, but it was anything but pleasant.
"I want to get into one of these doors."
"Well," Peter replied, "We all want things we can't have. You heard the Elf, no one can open the doors except-"
"I know. And that's why I need your help."
Frown deepening, Peter shifted to a better position. "Why am I suddenly feeling really suspicious of you?"
"I really have no clue," the voice laughed again. Suddenly Peter felt something approaching; he tensed with alarm, knuckles whitening. Something brushed his ear, solid, yet not material enough to distinguish from its ebony background. The voice seemed much closer now as it breathed into his ear.
"If you bring the Elf Prince to me, he will open the door."
"Legolas knows you?" Peter whispered in disbelief.
"We're old friends. Trust me."
"I don't."
"You must. If you want to leave this place… alive."
Suddenly Peter became aware of an icy sensation on his shoulder. He looked up in horror, as the blackness silently materialized into the form of a man. The white fingers curled around Peter's shoulder once again.
"Trust me…"
With a roar of panic, Peter threw him off, and bolted to the top of the staircase. He pounded on the door for all he was worth, hoping against hope that someone would hear him. Beneath him, the dark figure shook with cold laughter, and slowly started climbing the steps. Peter screamed at the top of his lungs, redoubling his efforts. The man approached him silently, an icy smile on his face. He reached out a pale hand…
*Trust me*
* Strider pounded on the door of Legolas' room.
"Legolas, wake up!"
He paced back and forth in front of the door, hugging the light blanket draped across his shoulders.
"Legolas! I know you're ignoring me!"
"I'm not available right now," a sleepy voice mumbled from inside. "Go away."
"Legolas," Strider pressed his face against the door. "It's important. Derek and Peter are missing. I searched all the rooms. I think Peter might have-"
He stopped as Legolas threw open the door, face a mask of disbelief. "What. What did he do?"
"I think he might have gone down the lower levels."
"The lower levels," Legolas snorted. "Aside from the fact that he is seventeen, why ever would he do a stupid thing like that?"
Strider shrugged slowly. "Well, Derek did tell him the story about the dwarves and the treasure…"
He trailed off, waiting for a response.
"Why, oh why am I so *blessed*" Legolas sang between his teeth, "With so many disturbances in the middle of the night!" his voice rose to a crescendo.
Strider stared at the floor; it was obviously a question not meant to be answered, for within a few seconds Legolas had slipped back into his room, and returned with a cloak for Strider, and a small light.
"Here," he said, handing him the cloak. "It can get pretty cold down there at night."
He started down the hallway, and Strider followed.
"Be careful," Legolas warned softly, "My father woke up a little while ago. He went for a walk, but he could be anywhere by now." Opening the small door that led deeper into the caves, Legolas motioned Strider inside. Strider shivered as he stepped in the doorway, grateful for the cloak his friend had given him.
"You're right. It's freezing in here. Why do you keep it so cold?"
Shrugging, Legolas took the lead as they descended a winding staircase. "I don't know. Usually it's not this bad, though. I guess it must be extra cold outside. Did you say Derek was gone too?"
"Yes."
"Wonderful. Now we get to look for two explorers."
"Well," Strider said, "Look on the bright side."
"And what side is that?"
"Derek would never let Peter go off on his own, so wherever they are, they're probably together."
Legolas smiled wryly. "Now if they would just stay in one place, we should have no trouble at all."
When Peter opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was the concerned face of his friend. However, the concern quickly changed to reproach, seasoned with more than a touch of annoyance.
"Peter, what on earth are you doing?" Derek demanded, helping him to his feet. "How did you get down here?"
"I…"Peter stopped, frowning. He noticed they were standing in a small hallway, connected to the main corridor by a small doorway. Strangely, he couldn't remember being there before…
"What happened? You were lying there, screaming like a madman!"
Peter scratched his head. "I was?"
"Of course you were! Don't play dumb with me!" Derek warned, eyes flashing.
"No, seriously Derek, what are you talking about? And why are you down here so late at night? You really shouldn't wander around alone."
"Peter, if you don't stop playing around and tell me what's going on…" he left the sentence unfinished.
"Derek! I don't know what's going on," Peter protested.
"Why are you down here? You could've gotten lost! This is an elvish house, Peter, full of strange magic things. You shouldn't wander around alone!" Derek emphasized the last sentence.
"I was," Peter began slowly, as if struggling to remember. "I was looking for that treasure you were talking about."
Throwing up his hands, in frustration, Derek glared at him. "And I guess the process of thinking is just too complicated for you?" his words dripped with sarcasm.
Peter looked at the floor. "I just wanted to see it. I wasn't going to take anything. Anyway, I came down here, and then the elves locked me in, and then-" he paused, brows furrowing. "And then I can't remember. I woke up and you were screaming at me."
Derek shook his head. "Obviously those elves put one of their spells on you. You should really be more careful. However," he placed a hand on Peter's shoulder. "I am prepared to forgive you, if you promise never to do it again."
"I promise."
"Good, now let's get back upstairs."
"Are you sure you know the way?" Peter asked nervously. "These caves can get pretty confusing."
Derek gave him a look full of injured dignity. "Of course I know the way, Peter. Trust me."
Peter fell silent and followed him, wondering why the last two words caused a strangely familiar chill to creep up his spine…
TBC.