Sauron's Child
Chapter 3 – Elf in Darkness
Vanaria awoke. She
opened her eyes but only blankness greeted her vision; a white bandage had been
placed across them obscuring her sight. The girl-elf then tried to raise and hand to her face thus removing the
bandage, but even as she attempted movement she discovered more bonds binding
her tightly. The child realised that
she was fully bound and with a sense of dread she knew that she was tied with
spider's web, the sticky cords encasing her in a cocoon. The girl panicked and thrashed violently,
desperately attempting to free herself. Something dug painfully into her arm. "Silly elf. Cease struggling," a dismembered voice ordered. The voice
had a soft sibilance indicating her addresser was a spider, Vanaria's
assumption was confirmed as the spider continued "or we will bite you
hard".
Vanaria despaired. The frightened elf believed that wrapped in the cocoon she would be
devoured by the evil octopeds. After
all had they not said as much as the closed upon her and her brother? With fear Vanaria remembered her brother's
safety. Surely Leogolas had not fallen to these monsters too? Her darling brother had to be safe, but the
distraught girl was not sure. "Legolas!" she attempted to cry, but the spider's web encasing her
muffled her cry such that all a listener would her was a low and unintelligible
mumble. She screamed but the result was
the same. She was so tightly bound that almost no noise could escape from
her. Also the taste of the web was foul
and Vanaria restrained herself from retching. The blackness of her thoughts threatened to overwhelm the young elf and
she trashed senselessly against her bonds, trying to call desperately to her
father and brother.
The spiders were unamused by the elf's struggles and
muttering. Although they knew that they
would be rewarded by the dwellers of Dol Guldur, they were not particularly
pleased with capturing an elf as the spiders were of the opinion that they
would call down the wrath of the wood-elves upon themselves. Thankfully not being prone to thoughtful consideration
this did not overly bother them, but it did provide an occasional worrying
niggling thought. This resulted in the
spiders being of the mindset that the sooner they got rid of this troublesome
elf the better and therefore they were proceeding to the south of Mirkwood and
Dol Guldur as quickly as possible. They
moved rapidly for they were conscious that the elves would track them and if
they were caught… well elves could be merciless upon occasion. Travelling at such high speed the spiders
easily outdistanced the hunting party tracking them and sealed Vanaria
Greenleaf's doom.
By nightfall one day after capturing the elf the spiders
arrived with their captive at the gates of Do Guldur. "We bring tribute," the foul octopeds chorused, claiming the
attention of the gate guards. The two
orcs that were assigned to the gate viewed the party of spiders and their
cocoon with trepidation.
"What've you got then?" asked the braver of the orcs
gesturing, with the butt of his spear towards the object that the spiders
carried. His voice was harsh and
Vanaria winced at the sound of it.
One spider stepped forward and rubbed its forelegs together
as it addressed the orc. "We bring an elf as the master asked."
The orcs looked at each other in confusion. They had heard nothing of elvish demons being
wanted by the Dark Lord, but then they were not privy to their Lord's
dealings. "Go get the captain, Karg,"
the braver orc said to the other as he carefully watched the spiders, who were
dripping venom from their fangs unhappy with the delay of offloading the
elf. The second orc Karg then ran
clumsily and nevertheless swiftly returned from the captain of the gate
guards. He frantically gestured to his
companion.
"We must know if the elf brought by the spiders is alive,"
said Karg having been instructed by the captain to determine this.
A spider said, "Yes," and then hit the cocoon squarely in
the middle. Vanaria gasped and struggled desperately.
"It's alive then," she heard a deeper and harsher voice
answer the spider. Vanaria saw a shadow
through the translucent cocoon as the owner of the hash voice leaned towards
her.
She struggled and tried to speak, "Mnnmm" was all she
managed, the spiders' web continuing to prove an effective gag.
"Silence!" roared the harsh voice, whilst something kicked
her hard in the back. Vanaria, who had
always been treated gently and never know pain, gasped, tears forming in her
eyes. "I will be obeyed," threatened
the harsh voice leaning close to prisoner, breathing on her face. Rancid breath overlaid with the stench of
rotting meat penetrated her senses and amplified her fear. The girl-elf gagged.
The harsh voice gentled, "Oh does the little elf not like
Karg." Another kick struck Vanaria on the back, this time harder and the poor
trapped elf gave a muffled cry of pain. "Well, Karg hates elves and this is how he welcome's them to Dol
Guldur." The kicking continued and no
matter how hard Vanaria struggled either to avoid the kicks or lessen their
blows they still fell with unnerving strength. Eventually one struck the girl on the temple and the battered and
bruised elf slipped mercifully into unconsciousness.
*****
When Vanaria came too she was lying on the floor in the
dungeon of Dol Gudur. It was darker
than a moonless night, the very density of the dark oppressive and for a
moment, the sylvan elf felt suffocated by the blackness. The air stank fouling and the entire
atmosphere was malicious. The girl was
fearful and began to take stock of her surroundings. She was lying on a cold and slimy stone floor, strewn with rancid
straw. Water was trickling nearby and
the sound of each drop resonated in her head. She sat up, starbursts appeared
before her eyes and her head felt lighter than an autumnal leaf. Wondering about her dizziness the elf
brought her hand to her face. It felt
warm and sticky; she licked her lips and tasted the metallic tang of
blood. Her fingertips explored her face,
which was lumpy and swollen. There was much tenderness around her jaw and left
eye. Vanaria pictured an image of
herself with her face all battered at court with her father; the image caused
her to smile ruefully. It hurt.
The girl began to explore her surroundings crawling on the
floor. She was in a cell twice as long
as she was tall and just wider than she was with arms outstretched. In one corner of the room was a door. It felt ancient, with harsh grained timbers
and rusting iron studs. Vanaria
scrabbled at the wood mindlessly trying to claw her way out. The timbers yielded not and her fingernails
were torn to the quick. The fearful
elf-child collapsed at the foot of the door, curled into a ball and cried. Her sobbing so hopeless and unselfconscious
that any being with a heart would pity the poor lost girl.
Unfortunately Vanaria's jailor was the orc Karg and he took
much pleasure in torturing those weaker than himself. For the next few weeks he had sole charge of the prisoner as her
fate was hidden in the hierarchy of the Enemy's troops. Time and time again he beat her and for
amusements sake he starved the elf-child, torturing her by eating her food and
drinking her water in front of her. Yet
again Karg raised his fist to the elf princess and she flinched lowering
herself to the floor, lying in the muck of her cell floor. The orc struck the girl and she cried out,
her eyes turned from her tormentor to the door where escape and freedom
beckoned. She crawled towards it, only
to receive a kick in the shoulder from the cruel Karg. "Going anywhere ugly?" he asked as he
continued to kick.
The terrified beaten elf-girl grovelled and as the daily
ritual demanded lowered her head turning her eyes from the light of her
torturer's lantern and whispered "No sir." A shadow then fell across the girl's head and she flattened herself to
the floor hoping to minimise the damage of the kick she knew was coming. No blow fell. The child turned around hoping that this was not to be some new
form of pain that Karg invented for her. Much to her surprise she saw the orc suspended in the air by a
black-cloaked man.
The child smiled hopefully at her saviour and grovelled on
the floor in front of him, unaware of her pitiful state. The black-cloaked defender looked down at
the elf-girl and then bent to caress her bruised face. "Karg the goods were to be undamaged," spoke
the girl's protector looking at the orc whose hair he held.
The orc began to abase himself, "But lord she is evil. Wicked. Tries to escape. Your loyal servant Karg just stops
her." Karg twisted himself trying to
make eye contact with his capture. In
disgust the lord flung the orc across the room. Karg struck the wall with a resounding crack, yet he flinched not
such was his fear of the black-cloaked lord.
The lord looked down upon the elf-girl lying at his feet She
gazed upon her saviour with worshipful, fearful and hopeful upturned eyes. Eyes dark and as velvety as the night sky
before dawn, eyes that implored him to rescue her. The black-cloaked man caressed the girl's head, stroking it as if
she were a faithful hound, and turned his eyes upon the cowering orc. "Fool. You lie to the Mouthpiece of Sauron,
think that I cannot detect your petty lies!" demanded the black-cloaked
one. "You have hurt this little elf and
you will pay for it." Sauron's
mouthpiece moved over to Karg. He spoke
in a tongue that Vanaria confused, beaten, bruised yet hopeful knew not. But the girl-elf was too fearful to look
further than the caressing tone of the man that petted her hair. To her he seemed kind and perfect. He was providing her with hope. The lord then slew the orc and removed the
dazed girl-elf from the dungeon.
Vanaria was moved to a luxurious suite in the heart of Dol
Guldur. Her rooms were decorated with
oriental carpets from Harad covered in pictures of fantastic birds and beasts,
hawks sported with dragons and rabbits danced with dolphins. There were precious vases and statues
adorning all the niches from countries long since fallen, silken hangings,
providing curtains of leaves with waft finer than spider's web all woven by
elves in a previous age. A floor of
finally polished quartz, constructed by the dwarves of Moria for their caverns
aeons past and a thousand other objects of art. But the girl-elf was unable to appreciate these treasures. Though the rooms were harmonious and
delightful, places for rest and relaxation of both body and mind as for the
next few months past Vanaria was in a hazed state, her mind no longer her own,
it was always clouded by drugs and dark magic. What happened to the elvish princess during that period she never fully
knew. But when she regained her senses, a fine day during spring she realised
that she was with child.
The girl was terrified, for she had only recently come to
womanhood and the realisation that motherhood was fast approaching and to bear
a child with an unknown father… Vanaria was fearful; she knew neither who the
father was nor what. Had the orc Karg
assaulted her? Maybe it was her black-cloaked
defender. She vowed to determine the
parenthood of that which she would bear and set her mind to doing so. The first person to enter her rooms, a
serving wench, Vanaria questioned mercilessly and obtained little information,
other than she was regarded as "the Master's mistress." " Who was the master?"
wondered the elf and "was he the father of her unborn child?" This period of lucidity did not last long.
For the interrogated serving wench swiftly informed the higher authorities of
her questioning. These saw to it that the elf princess was swiftly returned to
unquestioning bondage by means of dark magic.
So all the time that her babe grew Vanaria knew not what she
did. Only during her labour was her
mind returned to her and through the pain of childbirth her understanding of
her situation became clearer. It was a
long labour and Vanaria suffered greatly. After a night in labour at daybreak
her child was born. The midwife who had attended her held the babe proudly and
then handed the precious bundle the elf princess. In form the little girl was perfect, with tiny delicate hands and
the smallest possible feet. Vanaria smiled down at her tiny daughter lovingly
but then uncannily the babe opened her eyes and these were yellow, with a pupil
slit like a cats. Vanaria heard herself
draw breath rapidly; she had heard the folklore and knew that these were the
eyes of the Enemy. It then came to her
with a sense of dread. She daughter of
Thanduil had unwillingly borne the child of Sauron.
With swift and illogical realisation the elf-girl decided
that the babe had to die and there on the bed that she had just birthed placed
her hands around her babe's neck and began to squeeze. The midwife intervened. "What be you doing woman?" shrieked the
affronted nurse snatching the newborn from Vanaria's grasp.
Vanaria's eyes widened with shock and then the elf bowed her
head with shame in the realisation that she had attempted infanticide. "My apologies good woman," said the elf-girl
to the midwife. "I know not what evil attended me. In truth I wish only to give
my child this," Vanaria removed the ring her father gave her from her finger
and held it up for the other woman's inspection.
The midwife nodded briskly," It be a pretty enough bauble
and don't you worry dearie, new mothers are often a bit funny. You should
rest. I will place the child in the
next room."
"Wait," whispered Vanaria gently, "let me give it to her
now." With that the elf tore a strip of
the fine and priceless bed hanging next to her and slipped the golden ring onto
it. The elf princess then passed the
necklace to the nurse, who tied it around the neck of the babe. "Ring," spake
Vanaria in elvish, the midwife watching her suspiciously, "protect and guard my
child from all evil that lurks here." Then Vanaria closed her eyes, smiled and fell into a dreamless sleep.
The midwife removed the babe from the room and placed the child in a crib next
door. Vanaria and her child both slept.
When she awakened
Vanaria was aghast at what she had done, she had borne the child of the Dark
Lord and then attempted to kill her own progeny! How could she a noble elf do such a thing? The girl rose from her bed and went to seek
those that had wronged her. She had to
protect her child, regardless of its father. The elf princess dressed rapidly and then soundless exited her chambers. She wandered through the corridors of Dol
Guldur, hiding from guards with consummate ease seeking the Dark Lord. Eventually, despairing, the girl came to
hall in which a throne sat upon a raised dais.
"I know who you are!" screamed the elf woman eyes blazing
standing strong threatening those who would corrupt her. "You are evil. I will never serve you!" The defiance rang in the room and to those eyes that lurked in the
shadows the wronged elf glowed white with purity. She was screaming her defiance to the unknown and knew not that
she was watched
One being stepped from the shadows into the twilight of the
hall, it was the Dark Lord's mouthpiece, an evil minion of Sauron and his
emissary, also the black-cloaked man that rescued Vanaria from the clutches of
Karg. He clapped slowly pleased at the
performance; if part of this spirit were imparted to his Master's child it
would be a worthy vassal. The Dark Lord's mouthpiece then smiled, an unpleasant
sight, "But elf," he addressed Vanaria, "you have served your purpose. You are no longer required and with your
attack on your own child, shame on you, you are a danger." With an expansive gesture the man waved his
arm inclusively, "All this could have been your gift for the little girl." Vanaria faced the man and raised her chin,
unsuccessfully attempting to mask her fear with strength. The Dark Lord minion's smile faded, "Now you
can go to the orcs. Guards seize her!"
the foul man ordered. He then bowed to
the elf with a mocking knightly courtesy, "Farewell my master's mistress." With
finality the mouthpiece of Sauron turned and left the hall.
Vanaria had heard tell of what happened to elves that fell
into the clutches of orcs and paled with fear. The stories were so foul, the tales of torture so horrid that no elf
would ever seek that ending. What could
she do? The guards were emerging from the hall's shadows and beginning to close
in upon her. Terrified and with a strength
brought on by desperation she broke through the cordon of guardsmen seeking to
obey their master's wishes, their lustful eyes raking the petrified girl-elf's
body. She ran out of the hall and
turned towards the staircase, the downward stairs were blocked by human guards
so the elf decided to climb the staircase. Running upwards her speed allowing
her to easily outdistance her human pursuers and soon she could no longer hear
their footfalls behind her. Up the
spiral staircase she ran, the cold stones passing lightly beneath her feet.
Four steps a bound she covered, running as free and easy as a deer in her
father's kingdom. Nearly at the summit
of the stairs a guard stood preventing access to the roof and blocking the
elf's path. Vanaria's fear was such that even as he attempted to stop her she
continued running. Thankfully, for her sake, her elven speed was such that as
she ran into him the man was forced from her path. This caused the unfortunate guard to crash into the wall of the
spiralling staircase and from here he was unable to regain his footing and
fell. His body served as an
inconvenient obstacle for Vanaria's other pursuers. Vanaria having passed the guard spared him not a second thought
even though she heard him screaming as he fell, for she now had access to the
roof and freedom. The girl-elf
hurriedly opened the door ancient timbered door and stood under the doorframe
for a moment exulting in the fresh open air, marvelling that this was the first
time in an age that she had smelt the sweet scent of the forest as opposed to
the foulness of the fortress. Inhaling
deeply she turned and barred the door hoping to slow those that followed
her. Then across the roof she bounded,
as nimble as a mountain goat. She knew no human could follow her here and the
tired elf-woman knew a moment's peace and safety.
At the highest point of Dol Guldur, Vanaria stood. Far below her the minions of the Dark Lord
scurried about ant-like they moved quickly, going about their masters' business
with an urgency driven by fear. None of
these cruel creatures noticed the proud elf standing above them. Similarly she
spared them only the meanest glance and then faced northeast towards her
Father's realm. The forest was molten
gold in the setting sun and the dusk purpled the sky. The evening was beautiful and Vanaria was no less so, her proud,
elegant and defiant beauty silhouetted against the setting sun. With tears sparkling like crystal upon her
cheeks she sang. Pure and proud her
voice rang out. It started with great
sadness as the elf expressed her love for her forest home, her parents, brother
and even her small child. The tenor of
the song then changed and became laced with an overtone of fear, as Vanaria
sang of her capture by the spiders, her despair in the dungeons and her terror
at finding herself with child. The tone
changed once more to joy as the elf described the birth of her daughter, and
described the perfection of her babe's form. The song darkened suddenly as she sang of the shame of her discovery
over the fatherhood of her child and her thoughts of murdering her first born
and then ending with a sense of wistfulness and hope as she sang of the
potential salvation of her daughter.
A swansong and once completed the elf-girl with poise,
dignity and nobility far beyond her years dropped her gaze from her Father's
kingdom, a land where she had always been happy, well cared for and loved. "Thanduil my father, forgive me," she
whispered, "and may good be kindled in my child and protect her." With this final benediction Vanaria, her
eyes on her beloved forest, spread her arms and jumped crying "Valimar,"
meaning farewell, as she fell.
Vanaria was an elf never meant to journey across the
sea. Her body thudded into the earth
where the Dark Lord's servants spat upon it and mocked its beauty. Whilst high
in one of the towers her amber-eyed babe cried.
*****