Author's Note: Over 300 reviews!!!! WOW!!!! (throws review party) Thank
you so much you guys, you have no idea, I never expected to get this many,
maybe 100 if I was really lucky. I'm so happy there are people actually
enjoying my story, so for your wonderful words and thoughts, here's another
chapter! (Yeah I know, I do that a lot.) And special thanks to those of
you who realize that beating me now for cliffhangers will only delay in the
updating, so thanks for restraining yourselves. Once again, love you all,
and some of you seem to be suspicious over the fact that Legolas got away
so easily, does this mean no more torture?!? (Come on guys, think of who
you're dealing with here.) Let's just say that this story is not yet quite
over, there may still be a few more surprises yet. Okay, that's more than
enough babble, I do not claim Tolkien's genius as my own, I am realistic
enough to know I'm not that creative. On with the story!!!!
Chapter 26
The sun was setting. This realization caused Legolas to pause for a moment and look better at his immediate surroundings. The foliage above him was not as dense and the trees less menacing, allowing the waxing light of the sun to be seen. He had made it to the northern part of the forest. All he had to do was keep to the same course he was on. He would be arriving at the back gate of the city, but that was a small concern to him. As long as he reached it, all would be well.
The gate was soon within sight. Legolas dug his heels into the tired horse. He felt bad for pushing the animal so, but promised it rest as soon as they were past the gates. Legolas wanted to reach his home as quickly as possible and since his leg would not allow him to do it on his own, the horse would have to carry him with speed.
He was at the gate just as the sun dipped underneath the horizon and dusk blanketed the whole of the forest. Yet he could see well enough, for the stars shone brightly between the trees and small lanterns lit the city from within. Legolas paused momentarily at the gate and uttered the elvish password that would grant him entrance. The wooden gates swung open and Legolas directed the horse forward.
When the horse stopped a few feet within the entrance Legolas carefully swung himself off of the horse. His leg had healed somewhat, considering that according to Eirien it had been about four days since he had received the wound, and he could suffer to stand upon it. Yet he knew that he would not be able to run should the need arise and so he held the reins of the horse loosely in his hand and led it with him.
Something was wrong.
There had been no guards at the gate and nobody was in sight. Legolas understood that the back gate was not used often and not as heavily guarded as the front, yet there was always at least a few elves stationed at it. Especially in times such as these, Mirkwood could not afford to stand unguarded.
Legolas' leg forced him to move more slowly than he wished, yet he trod softly, not wanting to create any more noise than was necessary. Silence stretched all around him, and it would seem a sin to disturb it.
The palace that was home to his father rose before Legolas. That too appeared to be deserted. It was a normal occurrence to see elves about the palace, conversing with each other or meeting for an event that would take place within the palace walls. Yet the structure matched the silence of the rest of the city and the only thing that led one to believe that there was any productivity within the city at all was the lighted lanterns that hung throughout the place. Somebody had to have lit the lanterns, Legolas knew.
He approached the palace uncertainly and with more caution. Once he reached the large doors, he hesitated. There was of course no way he could lead the horse inside the palace, his father would never stand for such a disgrace, and yet the thought of leaving behind the only means of a swift exit should he need it was discomforting.
After a brief debate with himself, Legolas let go of the reins. He quietly told the horse to stay where it was, figuring that as long as the horse was just outside of the doors he could make it that far on his own.
Legolas took a small breath before pushing the doors open. He was not sure why he was at such unease, he should be feeling relief and triumph for finally having returned home. He should have been expectant to see the look on his father's face when he saw his son return home to him and the joyful reunion that would commence. But the same nagging paranoia that had shadowed his thoughts ever since entering the forest was still with him and it was telling him to go no further. The continuing silence aided the feeling of a threat and Legolas had to steel himself before gaining the will to lift his palm and place it upon the broad surface of the door.
Legolas pushed his weight against the door.
He did so slowly, and he was uncomfortably reminded of the time when Glorfindel had left his door unlocked. He was acting in the same manner as then, with controlled efforts and a stealth that he felt was necessary.
Legolas shook his head and berated himself. He was no skulking prisoner any longer, he was a prince returning to his home, he should walk in with poise and dignity, not under the cover of stealth. Legolas added more pressure on the door and took a bold step forward.
Legolas stopped again.
He could not shake the remembrance of the night within Maeglin's dwelling when he had escaped from his room. Glorfindel had left the door unlocked, Legolas knew that much to be true, but why would he do such a thing? Surely Glorfindel was not merely forgetful, it had not been an accident.
Several thoughts went through Legolas' head at once. He recalled what Glorfindel had told him right before he had left, 'You need to be strong for your father, for that is the path I see him using you on...'
And then Legolas remembered what he had overheard Maeglin say. 'Thranduil's attention is now fixed on Rivendell and a roaming renegade band...'
Legolas himself had entered from the back gate, the last direction anybody in Mirkwood would look if they were awaiting word from Rivendell.
Something was terribly wrong.
Legolas stepped away from the door, letting it swing shut from where he had partially opened it. His instincts were once again screaming at him, and he was indecisive as to whether or not he should actually listen to them.
Taking a short look around the still deserted outside once again, Legolas compromised. He would go in quietly and see if there was anybody inside. If the inside was just as deserted, he would come back and get on his horse and get out of there.
This was the best idea he could come up with without turning away and feeling like he was abandoning his father. He had to see what was going on inside, he could not merely turn away now.
Legolas pushed the door open again. He was thankful that his father ordered such tight maintenance, the hinges made absolutely no sound as the door gave way before him. It was nothing like the heavy iron doors of the Avari.
Legolas slipped through a small gap in the door and skirted a ways to the side before pausing to look around. There was nothing to be seen within the entrance, and save for the few lanterns that were lit Legolas would have thought it had not been used since he had been gone. Keeping his steps small and controlled Legolas went forward.
Instinctively Legolas went straight for the entrance to the Grand Hall. It was the largest room in the structure and right down the hall from where he stood. This was where the king was most often found. If there was nothing in the Hall Legolas would next scout his father's own chambers before deciding what to do next.
The closed doors stood before Legolas.
He had stopped himself again, unsure as to why he continued to feel such unease. This was his home, he knew everything about it, he could not be afraid in his own home.
As soon as Legolas thought this, he became aware of the feel of a bow across his back. He remembered taking Eirien's bow and keeping it and that he had no arrows to use with it.
The promise of a weapon after being weaponless for so long was so enticing to Legolas that he immediately stepped back from the doors of the Grand Hall. With considerably less hesitation than it had taken him to enter the palace he turned down a side hallway and went straight for the armory. There was no sense in being completely foolish. He had thought continuously from the beginning of all this madness that things would have been drastically different had he only had a few of his own weapons. There was no need to add another regret to this whole experience.
Legolas was in the large room they used as storage for weapons in a matter of moments. He went straight for what he knew he needed. Discarding the poorly-crafted bow Eirien had given him he picked up a Mirkwood bow in its place and a full quiver of arrows. After strapping the quiver onto his back, he reached for his next favorite weapon, the twin elven blades. He placed the long knives on his back between his shoulder blades and under the quiver with the hilts protruding for easy access.
Feeling a lot more confident than he had felt ever since awakening in a dark stone room, Legolas started to make his way back to the Grand Hall. His step was as determined as he could make it while still being light and minding his wounded thigh. This time when Legolas reached the closed doors, he pushed both of them open, entering through the middle, his bow already held out and ready to use.
What he saw made his renewed brazen feelings drain from him.
The room was full with elves, both his people and Maeglin's. Everybody had been silent and turned expectantly when they heard the doors open. There were a few gasps when the Sindarin elves saw their prince return and a few delighted looks, but most expressions remained the same, resolute and awaiting their fate.
Legolas felt the doors swing shut behind him again yet he paid it no heed. His mind was racing as it tried to catch up to what was going on. Out of all the things he had been expecting to find, this was not one of them.
Finally, after sifting through the faces in the crowd, Legolas saw the one elf he was looking for. His father, King Thranduil, stood proudly at the very front of the room on the elevated platform that he always stood on when making a speech or enjoying a celebration's festivities. Legolas locked eyes with his father and tried to read from him what was going on. The king's face was carefully controlled, a mirror of Legolas' own, and he revealed nothing except for a small sign of joy at seeing his son mixed with something Legolas could only place as dread. This revelation was not comforting to Legolas.
An arrogant voice pulled Legolas' attention away from his father.
"There you are young prince, we have all been waiting for you."
Legolas looked to the far side of the platform where Maeglin was starting to ascend to stand over next to Thranduil, taking a position that was only fit of nobility. Glorfindel was with him, but he remained off of the platform and to the side, watching all the proceedings calmly. Legolas had not seen the fair-haired elf since being so graciously turned over by him. His previous faith in Glorfindel had been dimmed and shadowed and he spent no time dwelling on him and wondering what side he was on. Legolas would deal with this on his own.
Unconsciously Legolas already had an arrow fitted to the string and the bow bent. He was pointing it straight at the dark elf lord, and Maeglin smiled when he saw it.
"You might not want to do that," Maeglin commented softly. He glanced over to the right and Legolas followed his gaze. The other end of the platform was banked with Maeglin's soldiers and they all had bows drawn with arrows pointing straight at Thranduil. Legolas let his gaze wander over the rest of the room, the dark elves were placed strategically around on the ends, all of their weapons drawn, while Legolas' people stood in the center of the room, and none of them had weapons. Legolas briefly wondered how they had gotten all of them into the room and without weapons and where his father's own warriors were. Legolas recognized a few of Thranduil's personal guards, but the bulk of the soldiers were absent.
Legolas lowered his bow but kept his fingers on the taut string.
"What do you want?" he asked in a low voice.
Maeglin smiled.
"I am so pleased that you asked that."
Chapter 26
The sun was setting. This realization caused Legolas to pause for a moment and look better at his immediate surroundings. The foliage above him was not as dense and the trees less menacing, allowing the waxing light of the sun to be seen. He had made it to the northern part of the forest. All he had to do was keep to the same course he was on. He would be arriving at the back gate of the city, but that was a small concern to him. As long as he reached it, all would be well.
The gate was soon within sight. Legolas dug his heels into the tired horse. He felt bad for pushing the animal so, but promised it rest as soon as they were past the gates. Legolas wanted to reach his home as quickly as possible and since his leg would not allow him to do it on his own, the horse would have to carry him with speed.
He was at the gate just as the sun dipped underneath the horizon and dusk blanketed the whole of the forest. Yet he could see well enough, for the stars shone brightly between the trees and small lanterns lit the city from within. Legolas paused momentarily at the gate and uttered the elvish password that would grant him entrance. The wooden gates swung open and Legolas directed the horse forward.
When the horse stopped a few feet within the entrance Legolas carefully swung himself off of the horse. His leg had healed somewhat, considering that according to Eirien it had been about four days since he had received the wound, and he could suffer to stand upon it. Yet he knew that he would not be able to run should the need arise and so he held the reins of the horse loosely in his hand and led it with him.
Something was wrong.
There had been no guards at the gate and nobody was in sight. Legolas understood that the back gate was not used often and not as heavily guarded as the front, yet there was always at least a few elves stationed at it. Especially in times such as these, Mirkwood could not afford to stand unguarded.
Legolas' leg forced him to move more slowly than he wished, yet he trod softly, not wanting to create any more noise than was necessary. Silence stretched all around him, and it would seem a sin to disturb it.
The palace that was home to his father rose before Legolas. That too appeared to be deserted. It was a normal occurrence to see elves about the palace, conversing with each other or meeting for an event that would take place within the palace walls. Yet the structure matched the silence of the rest of the city and the only thing that led one to believe that there was any productivity within the city at all was the lighted lanterns that hung throughout the place. Somebody had to have lit the lanterns, Legolas knew.
He approached the palace uncertainly and with more caution. Once he reached the large doors, he hesitated. There was of course no way he could lead the horse inside the palace, his father would never stand for such a disgrace, and yet the thought of leaving behind the only means of a swift exit should he need it was discomforting.
After a brief debate with himself, Legolas let go of the reins. He quietly told the horse to stay where it was, figuring that as long as the horse was just outside of the doors he could make it that far on his own.
Legolas took a small breath before pushing the doors open. He was not sure why he was at such unease, he should be feeling relief and triumph for finally having returned home. He should have been expectant to see the look on his father's face when he saw his son return home to him and the joyful reunion that would commence. But the same nagging paranoia that had shadowed his thoughts ever since entering the forest was still with him and it was telling him to go no further. The continuing silence aided the feeling of a threat and Legolas had to steel himself before gaining the will to lift his palm and place it upon the broad surface of the door.
Legolas pushed his weight against the door.
He did so slowly, and he was uncomfortably reminded of the time when Glorfindel had left his door unlocked. He was acting in the same manner as then, with controlled efforts and a stealth that he felt was necessary.
Legolas shook his head and berated himself. He was no skulking prisoner any longer, he was a prince returning to his home, he should walk in with poise and dignity, not under the cover of stealth. Legolas added more pressure on the door and took a bold step forward.
Legolas stopped again.
He could not shake the remembrance of the night within Maeglin's dwelling when he had escaped from his room. Glorfindel had left the door unlocked, Legolas knew that much to be true, but why would he do such a thing? Surely Glorfindel was not merely forgetful, it had not been an accident.
Several thoughts went through Legolas' head at once. He recalled what Glorfindel had told him right before he had left, 'You need to be strong for your father, for that is the path I see him using you on...'
And then Legolas remembered what he had overheard Maeglin say. 'Thranduil's attention is now fixed on Rivendell and a roaming renegade band...'
Legolas himself had entered from the back gate, the last direction anybody in Mirkwood would look if they were awaiting word from Rivendell.
Something was terribly wrong.
Legolas stepped away from the door, letting it swing shut from where he had partially opened it. His instincts were once again screaming at him, and he was indecisive as to whether or not he should actually listen to them.
Taking a short look around the still deserted outside once again, Legolas compromised. He would go in quietly and see if there was anybody inside. If the inside was just as deserted, he would come back and get on his horse and get out of there.
This was the best idea he could come up with without turning away and feeling like he was abandoning his father. He had to see what was going on inside, he could not merely turn away now.
Legolas pushed the door open again. He was thankful that his father ordered such tight maintenance, the hinges made absolutely no sound as the door gave way before him. It was nothing like the heavy iron doors of the Avari.
Legolas slipped through a small gap in the door and skirted a ways to the side before pausing to look around. There was nothing to be seen within the entrance, and save for the few lanterns that were lit Legolas would have thought it had not been used since he had been gone. Keeping his steps small and controlled Legolas went forward.
Instinctively Legolas went straight for the entrance to the Grand Hall. It was the largest room in the structure and right down the hall from where he stood. This was where the king was most often found. If there was nothing in the Hall Legolas would next scout his father's own chambers before deciding what to do next.
The closed doors stood before Legolas.
He had stopped himself again, unsure as to why he continued to feel such unease. This was his home, he knew everything about it, he could not be afraid in his own home.
As soon as Legolas thought this, he became aware of the feel of a bow across his back. He remembered taking Eirien's bow and keeping it and that he had no arrows to use with it.
The promise of a weapon after being weaponless for so long was so enticing to Legolas that he immediately stepped back from the doors of the Grand Hall. With considerably less hesitation than it had taken him to enter the palace he turned down a side hallway and went straight for the armory. There was no sense in being completely foolish. He had thought continuously from the beginning of all this madness that things would have been drastically different had he only had a few of his own weapons. There was no need to add another regret to this whole experience.
Legolas was in the large room they used as storage for weapons in a matter of moments. He went straight for what he knew he needed. Discarding the poorly-crafted bow Eirien had given him he picked up a Mirkwood bow in its place and a full quiver of arrows. After strapping the quiver onto his back, he reached for his next favorite weapon, the twin elven blades. He placed the long knives on his back between his shoulder blades and under the quiver with the hilts protruding for easy access.
Feeling a lot more confident than he had felt ever since awakening in a dark stone room, Legolas started to make his way back to the Grand Hall. His step was as determined as he could make it while still being light and minding his wounded thigh. This time when Legolas reached the closed doors, he pushed both of them open, entering through the middle, his bow already held out and ready to use.
What he saw made his renewed brazen feelings drain from him.
The room was full with elves, both his people and Maeglin's. Everybody had been silent and turned expectantly when they heard the doors open. There were a few gasps when the Sindarin elves saw their prince return and a few delighted looks, but most expressions remained the same, resolute and awaiting their fate.
Legolas felt the doors swing shut behind him again yet he paid it no heed. His mind was racing as it tried to catch up to what was going on. Out of all the things he had been expecting to find, this was not one of them.
Finally, after sifting through the faces in the crowd, Legolas saw the one elf he was looking for. His father, King Thranduil, stood proudly at the very front of the room on the elevated platform that he always stood on when making a speech or enjoying a celebration's festivities. Legolas locked eyes with his father and tried to read from him what was going on. The king's face was carefully controlled, a mirror of Legolas' own, and he revealed nothing except for a small sign of joy at seeing his son mixed with something Legolas could only place as dread. This revelation was not comforting to Legolas.
An arrogant voice pulled Legolas' attention away from his father.
"There you are young prince, we have all been waiting for you."
Legolas looked to the far side of the platform where Maeglin was starting to ascend to stand over next to Thranduil, taking a position that was only fit of nobility. Glorfindel was with him, but he remained off of the platform and to the side, watching all the proceedings calmly. Legolas had not seen the fair-haired elf since being so graciously turned over by him. His previous faith in Glorfindel had been dimmed and shadowed and he spent no time dwelling on him and wondering what side he was on. Legolas would deal with this on his own.
Unconsciously Legolas already had an arrow fitted to the string and the bow bent. He was pointing it straight at the dark elf lord, and Maeglin smiled when he saw it.
"You might not want to do that," Maeglin commented softly. He glanced over to the right and Legolas followed his gaze. The other end of the platform was banked with Maeglin's soldiers and they all had bows drawn with arrows pointing straight at Thranduil. Legolas let his gaze wander over the rest of the room, the dark elves were placed strategically around on the ends, all of their weapons drawn, while Legolas' people stood in the center of the room, and none of them had weapons. Legolas briefly wondered how they had gotten all of them into the room and without weapons and where his father's own warriors were. Legolas recognized a few of Thranduil's personal guards, but the bulk of the soldiers were absent.
Legolas lowered his bow but kept his fingers on the taut string.
"What do you want?" he asked in a low voice.
Maeglin smiled.
"I am so pleased that you asked that."