Disclaimer: characters and situations belong to J. R. R. Tolkien. No copyright infringement is intended.
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Chapter 3: Spider's Lair
It was the best of times; it was the worst of times. Wait… wrong line.
It was the best of places; it was the worst of places. Actually, it was only bad. The treetops were so thickly meshed that nothing from the outside—not the warm sunlight, nor the fresh air—reached the forest floors. There were no animals. Indeed, the very air smelt of death. The silence was suffocating. Legolas and Emmelyn found themselves barely daring to breathe lest the sombre stillness of the forest was broken.
Emmelyn shook out her divinely beautiful hair and swept through the darkness with her clear, sapphire eyes. She watched Legolas, saw with longing his silky hair and hard, muscular back, and wondered why the author was using gratuitous adjectives. 'Amateur!' she muttered darkly. 'She's bringing me a bad name!' She pouted slightly, her full, red lips pressed together in distaste.
'How will we find the Aerysil in this place?' she asked, and jumped at the unaccustomed sound in this silence.
Legolas glanced back over his shoulder. 'Ungoliant has it,' he said.
'Who?'
He stopped and turned around. 'Ungoliant is the spider queen; she was the servant of Melkor, before he betrayed her and set her in this valley. For two Ages, it was not known what became of her. But I have reason to believe that she is still alive, feeding off of the creatures of this place.
'It is said that this was once a valley rich in goods. The soil was fertile and rich, and there were many jewels in the earth. But since Ungoliant came, not a flower has bloomed; not a tree has fruited. All that you see about you,' he gestured to the woods, 'is barren, or poisonous. Do not eat of anything in this forest. We must live on the food that we brought. We will be fast—find the Aerysil, and out of here.'
'But how?' asked Emmelyn. 'Surely we can't just walk in on this Ungoliant and steal the jewel from her?'
Legolas frowned. 'We will figure that out when we get there.' He paused and murmured softly, 'If we get there.' And for a moment he looked greatly saddened and lost. Then he straightened himself and turned ahead to the heart of the forest. 'Come. We have no time to lose. Stay silent—no more talk—and keep careful watch about you. Ungoliant will have allies in this forest.'
Emmelyn shuddered, looking into the trees fearfully. The shadowy forest seemed suddenly more frightening.
Legolas looked down at her and softened. 'Don't worry, vanimelda, we will make it through, and Manwë will bless our marriage.' On sudden impulse, he bent and kissed her. The gesture gave both of them some strength, and, when they broke away to continue on their path, it was with renewed determination.
And so they set out on the road together, following the thin stream of the Syrilamin, the Friendly River, which alone flows bright in the dark placed of the world. Fortunately, though the Syrilamin always leads to the heart of these places, its waters are pure and bane to all the servants of Melkor.
That part of the forest was relatively easy to walk, though occasionally there would be mud and filth on the banks and the fell creatures would leer at them from behind the shrubbery. Then they would walk in the river, and the cool water lapping at their ankles would soothe them.
Other times, the creatures would come too close, and they would be forced to cross the river and seek solitude there—the creatures never seemed to like the water too much, and hence refused to wade across in pursuit.
Only once were they in any real danger, and that was when a spider—strayed too far from its home or perhaps driven out by Ungoliant's progeny—came to the water and, crazed with hunger, attacked them. They fought it off easily enough with arrows and long knives; it was only and small, young spider, and therefore very inexperienced.
But their success through their journey thus far did little to help their increasing feelings of fear and malcontent. Indeed, if anything, it was worse. Ungoliant was a servant of Melkor, fashioned specially by him to serve a purpose—she was not stupid. She must know of their presence in her domain, and must have ulterior motives for allowing them to reach her.
By the third day, it had become clear that something was wrong. The further into the forest they went, the more creatures there were, but, unlike the fewer, weaker creatures that waylaid them at the end of the forest, these made no attempt to attack. Instead, they merely hung back in the shadows and watched, their hungry, luminescent eyes blinking once in a while.
This feeling of unease only grew as Legolas and Emmelyn continued their trek to the heart of the woods, where Ungoliant's lair was sure to await them.
When all the woodland creatures disappeared on their fifth day and a terrible silence, heavier and thicker than ever before, descended upon them, so that they almost fancied that they could hear the breathing of the woodland around them, Legolas and Emmelyn knew that they had finally reached the lair of Ungoliant.
~*~
It was, predictably, a gloomy place. A mesh of nets surrounded it tightly, and in it were caught many elves and humans: long dead, pitiful things, their faces frozen in masks of terror and despair. Many of these were merely rotted skeletons, the flesh hanging in tattered ribbons upon the white bones, a few stray hairs blowing in the wind.
A putrid smell rose to greet Legolas and Emmelyn as they neared. From somewhere to their right, a human voice moaned in pain. Emmelyn stifled a gasp.
Further ahead, after they passed the webs and the captives, was a thick grove of treas. Emmelyn started into it, but froze as Legolas placed a warning hand upon her arm.
'Are you insane?' he hissed. 'Something trapped all those people back there—whatever it is, it'll get you, too, if you go in!'
Emmelyn frowned. 'How are we going to find the Aerysil if we don't go in?'
'We are not.' Legolas took up his bow. 'Manwë gave this quest to me; I will complete it.'
Emmelyn did gasp this time. 'No!' she said. 'You can't!'
'Emmelyn,' said Legolas exasperatedly, 'this isn't just another beast, tree, or cliff, or Bush. Ungoliant is a monster. You won't be safe it you go in there.'
'I don't care—I chose to come with you, and I will not let you go alone. Besides, it is just as dangerous out here; what if something comes from the forest?'
'No, Emmelyn, I can't let you come with me.'
'It's more dangerous for you than it is for me,' she snapped. 'I told you before—I have my magic. Against Ungoliant, that'll be more useful than your arrows.'
Legolas blinked. 'But it isn't your fight…' he said hesitantly.
She walked up to him and raised her hand to caress his cheek. 'It is,' she said, softly, insistently. 'I gave my life over to you when I defied Manwë and chose to go with you that day.' She looked up at him through dark eyelashes. 'I would rather live a mortal life with you than live through all eternity alone.'
Legolas cocked his head and frowned. 'That sounds familiar.'
'Nevermind,' said Emmelyn hurriedly. 'Shall we go?'
He sighed. 'Yes. Let us face Ungoliant together.'
And so Legolas and Emmelyn turned as one to face the darkness that marked Ungoliant's lair. Side by side, they walked to the part in the grove. Then they realised that they had to go through in single file, or else they wouldn't fit.
The first thing that Legolas saw, upon entering the grove, was that Ungoliant's empire was vast. Most of it was underground; the main cavern alone was larger than the Hall of Mandos. Hundreds of spiders milled about, working in groups on various tasks. One particular group was spinning webs; another constructed what looked like eight-legged armour; a third was concocting a distinct red stew that reeked, even from this distance, of human excrement and burnt flesh. The quest suddenly didn't seem as promising....
From this main cavern led a myriad of smaller passages, through which spiders scuttled. One particular passage, Legolas noted with some satisfaction, seemed to be least trafficked. Indeed, most spiders kept well away from it. That must be where the Aerysil is, though Legolas.
But before that corridor was a bronze seat—a throne—upon which sat the largest spider of them all: a fat, hairy thing with dripping mandibles and glistening pincers. Dozens of other, smaller spiders hurried around it, offering food and grooming (if indeed it could be call that). Its eyes burnt bright red with an unearthly fire.
'Ungoliant!' whispered Legolas, mortified.
From behind him came a quick exhalation. Emmelyn pulled him back from the opening of the cavern. 'How are we going to get to that thing?
Legolas sighed in frustration and raked his hand through his hand. But, before he could answer, another voice drifted from behind him. It was thick, hoarse, and altogether unpleasant. 'Well, well, well,' it said oilily, 'what have we here?' A pincer clicked sharply. 'An elf!'
Before Legolas could move or speak, two spiders had materialised behind him and grabbed on to his arms. A third spider circled around him. Legolas tried to glance back innocuously—Emmelyn seemed to have disappeared.
'Welcome, elf prrrince,' said the spider in front of him, and Legolas recognised it by its voice as the one who had spoken before. 'We have been exsspecting you.' It swooped down and peered around him into the darkness. 'But wherrre iss the other, the ssshe-elf?'
Legolas fought to keep his face impassive. 'What she-elf? I don't know what you are talking about.'
The spider cocked one of its many eyes up at him. 'Liiiarr,' it hissed. 'But no matter! My missstressss will be pleassed enough with me for brrringing you back to her.'
'My lord,' said one of the spiders behind him. Its voice was distinctly rougher than the other spider's, almost like a grunt. Do spiders grunt? Legolas wondered suddenly. That would be more befitting of a pig than a spider. Legolas fought an irrational desire to laugh. 'Do we stew him?'
'Fffool!' said the first spider. 'It iss our misstresss'ss orrderss to brring him back to her, alive and unharmed! Imbesscile! Ssstuff your kneess into your mandiblesss nexsst time, before you dessside to ssspeak. Now, help me to bring him back to the thrrone rrroomss.'
The spiders picked up Legolas and carried him down the steep incline into the cavern. The walk was bumpy, and the spiders' pincers dug painfully into his back, but Legolas could not help wishing that it would never end.
But time has an uncanny way of speeding up when one least wants it, and, all too soon, Legolas and his captors halted in front of the throne of Ungoliant. He was promptly dropped to the ground and pulled back up to his feet.
The smell of rotting flesh overwhelmed him; Legolas suddenly felt faint. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he vaguely recalled his purpose here—but it would be folly to even think of getting to the Aerysil now. He fixed his eyes on the ground. The stones were rough and uneven; streaks of red rust showed that there was truth to the old legends, after all: there were metals here.
Emmelyn, he thought. She is still free; they haven't found her. The though of Emmelyn gave him hope. He closed his eyes. There, imprinted on the back of his eyelids, was Emmelyn, beautiful and ethereal: Emmelyn, smiling softly at him in the moonlight, her golden hair spilling over her shoulders; Emmelyn, worrying at her lower lip with her teeth, her eyes wide in apprehension.
He raised his head and looked at Ungoliant.
~*~
Back in the grove, Emmelyn extracted herself from the tangle of trees and let the last notes of her disguising spell fade into the air. She had watched the spiders take Legolas away; they had been so preoccupied with Legolas that they had barely looked around them after the cursory glance.
Damn Manwë for doing this.
Pulling herself together, she closed her eyes and sang softly,
Wishing you were somehow here againWishing you were somehow near
Sometimes it seemed if I just dreamed
Somehow you would be here
As she sang, she suffused her voice with magic, the pure magic of the Maiar and the Istari. The song took form; it materialised into a glittering web of gold, a web light as breath and so bright that it seemed Laurelin again was born. By the time she reached the last note, the web had stopped glowing, though the sparkles of magic were still evident in it. She snatched it from the air and draped it around her shoulders; it felt cool to the touch, with a smooth silky texture. She nodded in satisfaction; it would work.
Emmelyn pulled herself through the entrance to the cavern and crept down the narrow, steep path to the cave floor. It occurred to her that she would be found at once if a spider came—the path was hardly wide enough to let them both pass without incident. But fortunately her walk down was relatively eventless.
She headed toward the throne, where she could see Legolas being questioned by Ungoliant. She crept forward and sang a song of calming over Legolas, then hurried on toward the corridor in which the Aerysil lay.
It was a surprisingly easy journey. Ungoliant had done the job of keeping it clear of intruders very well.
When she finally reached the end chamber, she was awed, for this place was not at all like the cavern that she had stood in before. There was no filth here; instead, it shone with pure magic. Heaps of jewels and precious metals covered the ground. In one corner, there was gold; in another, gems of all colours imaginable. A mound of mithril lay to her left. There were riches enough in this place to rival all of Valimar.
By the far wall, there stood a pedestal and a cushion of black velvet. The jewel that sat at the centre of it was just smaller than Emmelyn's pal, and shone so fiercely that it cast the entire chamber into red light.
'Aerysil,' breathed Emmelyn. She made her way over a mound of blue diamonds and reached for it.
The jewel flared at her touch. It became so bright that Emmelyn was forced to squint to look at it. Words appeared in its depths, words of fire, tiny but unmistakable. 'Creoso,' it read, 'chil-Ilúva.'
Welcome, Ilúvatar's heir.
