THE GRIFFON'S TEARS

Chapter 17 ~ "The Death Spell"

Legolas strode across the pathway toward the Great Hall. He could not help the grin on his face or the lightness of his step. He glanced back for a moment at his Culhalla and noticed Alede on the balcony. She waved to him cheerfully.

Just the sight of his new bride set his heart to pounding, though he had left her only a moment before. Once he had his business with Mändel completed, he intended to hurry back to her.

Spending the day in bed did not seem like such a bad idea, he thought with an impish look on his face. He might even get to see that incredibly gorgeous nightdress on Alede that had been made especially for their wedding night. Somehow, it had been forgotten last night.

With that inspiring thought, he entered the Great Hall, eager to get his business with Mändel concluded. He spotted Elrohir and Elladan lounging comfortably at the dinning table. He gave them a wave and was not surprised when they got up to join him.

"Everything in working order last night, Legolas?" Elrohir enquired with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"Where is Alede?" Elladan asked. "Has she tossed you out already?"

Legolas grinned at their teasing, but said nothing.

Elrohir turned to his twin with mock seriousness on his face. "Perhaps we should have given him written instructions before the wedding night. Poor Alede! How disappointed she must be today!"

Elladan shook his head sadly. "Not able to rise to the occasion, eh, friend?"

Elrohir nodded sagely. "No doubt Alede will be coming to find me at any moment."

Legolas chuckled and put an arm about both of their shoulders. "My friends, if I were to tell you two bachelors even a tiny portion of what went on last night . . ." he paused dramatically, "you would spend the rest of your lives weeping into your pillows at night in regret and envy."

Elrohir and Elladan both burst out laughing and Legolas gave them a grin and a final pat on the shoulder as he left them.

Because he did not look back, he missed the look that passed briefly over Elrohir's face.

A look that might have been regret.

~ ~ ~

Alede breezed across the bridge that connected King Thranduil's guest chamber and Legolas' home.

Our home, she thought happily and could have hugged herself at the very notion. She was positively bubbling over with joy.

The previous night had exceeded all her expectations. Legolas had astounded her with his tenderness and generosity, coaxing forth responses from her that she had not even known were within her. She had found herself loving him in ways that not even the experienced barmaid Betsy had spoken of.

In return, she had awakened a passionate beast within Legolas that his calm exterior hid very well. At one point she had teasingly accused him of ravishing her.

Alede smiled. There had been a lot of passion and tenderness last night. But there had been a great deal of laughter as well. She could not think of a more splendid combination.

Their songs had sung together in a melody that reached the deepest depths of love and the highest peaks of joy. She could still feel its vibrations this morning as if Legolas had soaked into her skin and her mind. Reaching out, she touched her husband's mind lovingly before proceeding to her goal.

~ ~ ~

The King was already seated upon the tiny balcony outside his bedchambers. He appeared to be rather absently gazing up at the sunrise.

Though she had not been invited, Alede went up to the table and sat down. She saw no reason for the King to eat alone, especially when she was bursting with happiness and a touch of mischief.

"Good morning, Father."

Thranduil eyed her with that tolerant look she was getting so used to.

"You are up quite early," he remarked. "Is there some reason that you invade my breakfast?"

"I merely wished to enjoy your cheerful company," Alede said, grinning. Across the table from her, Thranduil groaned slightly and rolled his eyes.

"You are quite obnoxious under normal circumstances, but now that you are in this . . ." he paused searching for the right word, "giddy state, you are perfectly intolerable."

Alede broke into another smile and completely undaunted by the severe look on his face, got up, skirted the table and kissed Thranduil soundly on the cheek.

"By all that is sacred!" Thranduil swore, slamming his cutlery down. "What ails you, child?"

"Not a thing," Alede said happily. "I have learned that that severe exterior of yours conceals a heart as large as Eryn Lasgalen."

She grinned up at him, her eyes twinkling merrily. Thranduil was momentarily thunderstruck. Not even his own children were this impudent with him.

"Has it occurred to you, Daughter, that my severe exterior just might . . ."

"How many grandchildren would you like to have?" Alede interrupted mischievously.

Thranduil stopped with his mouth open in mid sentence. He closed it with a snap of irritation and then covered his eyes with his hand momentarily as if he was seeking inner patience. But Alede was not fooled, she could see the telltale twitch of his mouth.

"I have found the perfect method of silencing your lectures," she said, unable to restrain her giggles.

"You are completely intolerable," Thranduil said, trying to keep his face straight. "You are an absolute nuisance and I . . ."

"And you love me non the less," Alede said.

Thranduil made a noise of exasperation and sat back in his chair, with his arms folded across his chest. His stern features might have daunted anyone else, but Alede had come to read the subtle play of emotions on his face quite well.

Finally loosing the battle, Thranduil put his elbows on the table, resting his forehead in his hands and gave into his laughter. "I am certain that the Valar are punishing me for some transgression, but . . ." he looked up, a look on his face like none that Alede had ever seen before, "yes, I do love you, you silly girl, as if you were my own child."

Alede's smile could have lit up a dark night. "As I love you, dear Father," she said.

"Humph!" Thranduil snorted. "Now that that is settled, be gone! Do you not prefer the company of your new husband this morning?"

"Legolas needed to speak with Mändel. He will probably be gone for half an hour at least and I am starving."

Thranduil glanced at the bedchamber door behind him. "I am expecting company. Go away."

Alede grinned knowingly. She could easily guess whom the King expected and who might be resting in the bedchamber. "Romiël tends to sleep late. I will be gone before she rises."

Ignoring Thranduil's scowl, she set a jar that she had brought with her in front of him.

Thranduil snorted and picked up the jar.

"What is this?"

"Honey," Alede replied. "Honey with black currants stirred into it."

"Indeed?" Thranduil's scowl vanished and he opened the jar with interest, but not before he had passed the hot loaf of bread to her. They each spread the thick honey over their slices of bread. Alede noticed that Thranduil had slathered enough on his that it was in danger of oozing off the sides. But he closed his eyes as he bit into it and seemed well pleased.

Alede smiled. She had not forgotten his sweet tooth and fully intended to indulge him.

They ate in companionable silence. Birds twittered in the treetops and the sounds of Eryn Culhallas waking drifted up to them. Somewhere down below she heard Legolas' voice and knew that he was making his way back to her. A feeling of happiness tickled her stomach as she realized he had cut his meeting with Mändel short in order to return to her.

The sun cleared the tops of the trees and shone warmly upon her face. Alede closed her eyes, tilting her chin up to the bright rays. She had never felt happier or more at peace than on this first day of summer.

The scraping of a chair made her open her eyes. Thranduil stood opposite her, a look of alarm upon his face.

"What . . .?" But then Alede felt it as well. A sickly vibration hovered in the air like the smell of carrion. Alede slowly stood up and turned around.

"It's a spell," she said to Thranduil over her shoulder.

"Yes, but where is it coming from?" he asked sharply.

"I know not," Alede began, but a terrible suspicion came to her. The spell had a certain feel to it, a certain signature. "Zarraweth . . ." she breathed.

"How can that be!? You told me that she was dead!"

"She was dead," Alede said turning. "But she may have set something in motion before she . . ."

"Alede!" Thranduil cried suddenly. "Beware!"

Alede whirled back around. A rent in the fabric of the air appeared before her. There was blackness in its depths and foul words whispered and gibbered against her ears. A bright dagger appeared in the tear and just as Alede screamed and threw her hands up in front of her, strong hands grabbed her shoulder, wrenching her sideways.

Alede fell to the floor with a gasp and the knife hovered menacingly in the air.

"Alede! Are you injured?" Thranduil cried, still poised to lunge at the magical knife.

She did not answer. Cold, fierce pain filled her senses. Warmth was soaking down the front of her abdomen and she looked down to see her bright blood staining the fabric. The knife had slashed her as Thranduil had tried to drag her out of its path, tearing the silky fabric of her gown and the delicate skin beneath.

Alede was only vaguely aware of Romiël stepping out onto the balcony, blinking in the bright light. Her entire concentration was on her blood flowing freely between her fingers and on the agony that seemed to cut her in half.

Romiël immediately knelt beside her, pressing a napkin to the wound.

"Thranduil what it happening?" she asked.

"It is a death curse," Alede stammered, answering in place of the King. "I must counter it . . ." But words were becoming hard to form and a mist was trying to close over her eyes. She felt the balcony rock as if someone was taking the stairs three at a time.

~ ~ ~

Legolas bid Mändel good morning. There was still much that he needed to do, but he refused to be parted from his bride any longer. He would settle back into his routine next week. For the next few days he intended to devote his time to Alede.

But as he happily contemplated his future with her, he became aware of a discord in their song. Something evil hung in the air and fouled the harmony of their aman coire like a note played off key.

Legolas shuddered and quickened his pace toward home.

And then he heard Alede scream and felt her sharp pain through their song. Panic stricken, he broke into a run, charging up the steps three at a time.

"Alede!" Legolas burst upon his father's balcony, dropping to his knees, his song nearly knocking her over with concern.

"Death Curse," she stammered. "Get my mother's book . . . the red one . . ."

Legolas started to rise, but then he saw the knife, the very same dagger that Thranduil had given to Alede before they journeyed to Mordor. It hung in the air as if held by an invisible and demonic hand. Suddenly it twisted in the air, swooping down on Alede.

Several things happened at once. Thranduil made a dive for the knife and hit the corner of the table with his hip and missed. Legolas threw himself in front of Alede and caught it. But his haste made him clumsy and his hands closed upon the sharp blade. He cried out as his own blood dripped to the deck and Alede gasped as she felt his pain.

Gimli charged upon the balcony, wheezing like a mule and brandishing his axe.

"Legolas!" he looked on in amazement as Legolas and Thranduil both appeared to be wrestling over a knife. "What in the blazes!?"

"It is enchanted, Gimli!" Legolas gasped as the blade twisted angrily, shredding his palm despite his father's hold on it as well.

The Dwarf looked flustered for a moment, then quickly grabbed the edge of the tablecloth and whipped it off. Porcelain, cutlery and food all went crashing to the floor as Gimli threw the cloth around the two Elves' hands. Thranduil quickly twisted it around and around the knife, muffling it in its folds.

"Romiël," Alede grasped at the she-Elf's hand clumsily. "Circle . . . draw a circle with my blood . . . get the book."

Romiël hesitated for only a moment. Her hands were already dark with Alede's blood so drawing a circle upon the planks was no trouble.

Legolas extricated his slashed hand from the tablecloth as Thranduil finished wrapping the knife. He cared nothing for his own wound though and fell to his knees in horror at Alede's side. There was so much blood spilled down the front of her gown, he thought his heart might stop at the sight of it.

"Alede!" the desperate anguish in his voice mirroring that which he felt.

" . . .book," she whispered weakly.

Legolas stumbled to his feet, noticing as he did so that the knife was once again trying to free itself. The sight urged him into a sprint as he leapt across the bridges toward Alede's home and into her library. It took him an agonizing moment to find the book.

"Red, red . . ." he mumbled urgently to himself as he searched the shelves, throwing books on the floor in his haste. He finally found a red book with Malina's spidery scrawl in it. Then he was out the door and racing back across the bridges.

A hideous sound assaulted him before he was halfway there. It screeched and grated upon his eardrums so badly he wanted to sink to his knees and cover his ears. But he ran on, bursting out upon Thranduil's balcony.

The knife had escaped its cloth binding and was skittering across the surface of Alede's encircling, screeching as it angrily scraped at her green magic, but could not penetrate it. The sound was deafening, more than deafening, it was a sound that Legolas was certain could kill.

Thranduil was on his knees, his hands pressed to his ears and Gimli crouched near the railing, crying out in pain. Romiël had collapsed inside Alede's circle.

And Alede . . .

Legolas' heart tightened. Her face had gone completely white and she had slumped to the floor. But her eyelids flickered as Legolas ran to her and fell to his knees.

Raising a bloody hand, he caught the hilt of the knife and tossed the book within Alede's circle. As her encircling unmade, the screeching sound stopped and the knife tried to surge out of Legolas' hand. He wrapped both of them around it and hung on with all of his strength, though it nearly dragged him across the decking.

Dark magic wrapped itself around him, clouding his vision, blocking out Alede's faint song and filling his mind with its hatred. Malice chilled his blood as the spell tried to throw him off, tried to complete its deadly purpose.

But Legolas held on, even as evil words whispered about his ears. Desperately he forced his hands down, dragging the knife unwillingly toward the planking beneath his knees. The dark magic rose to a crescendo then and pulled at him, trying to wrench the very soul from him. Legolas cried out in pain and horror, but still he pressed the dagger point into the wood, forcing it slowly into the floor.

Then powerful words washed over him, but these were clean words and smelled of pine trees and warm summer breezes. They carried with them the cleansing force of mountain snows and rocked the balcony beneath him as the Culhalla trembled in recognition of the counter spell.

And then quite suddenly the dagger went limp in his hands. Legolas let out the breath he had been holding and opened his eyes. The knife had dropped to the floor and lay there harmlessly. The spell was broken.

Legolas shuddered and raised his eyes to Alede.

Her mother's book lay open beside her and her limp hand rested upon it. Bright blood flooded out across the planking and her eyes stared sightlessly back at him.

"NO!"

Anguish and emptiness like he had never known it seized Legolas, squeezing his gut in its powerful grip. He crawled to Alede, pulling her lifeless body into his arms and sending the book skittering away. Her song did not answer his as he urgently called out to her.

"DO NOT LEAVE ME MELUI! DO NO LEAVE ME NOW THAT WE ARE FINALLY TOGETHER!"

Blind grief took him. He was only vaguely aware of people crowding around him now. Thranduil had stumbled to his feet and Gimli's strong hand gripped his shoulder. Absently he knew that Aragorn and Elrond's sons were there as well. Galomir was feeling Alede's wrist.

But Legolas ignored them all, seeing only emptiness and shattering pain. Tears flowed down his cheeks unchecked.

"I am sorry," Galomir said beside him, breaking through the wall of grief. "I can feel no pulse."

*NO!*

Rage swelled up within Legolas' heart, shoving the pain aside. He threw back his head and shouted a defiant scream to the sky.

Fire answered him.

Heat filled his body as if Mount Doom had erupted and filled his veins. Legolas could not see for the ancient power that pounded in his blood. Instinctively he pulled Alede tighter to him, clamping one hand upon her belly and allowing the fire to pour through him and out of him.

Strong hands seized his shoulders and he felt raw power flowing into him. Time ceased to have a meaning, as did the chaotic voices around him. There was only the fire in his blood and magic rushing out of him. Brilliant light filled his vision and he vaguely realized that it came from his own body and from there he poured this terrible power into Alede. ***

"Legolas?"

Only one voice could have roused him from that ancient Elvin magic.

Legolas raised his head and opened his eyes, taking a moment to focus in the strangely normal light of morning. He felt as if the inside of his eyelids had been singed.

And then his vision came into focus.

Alede stirred in his arms and smiled weakly up at him.

"Melui?" he gasped in astonishment and barely felt Thranduil's painful grip on his shoulders loosen.

Alede's smile broadened and her song reached out to tap gently at his. With a wordless cry, Legolas crushed her in his arms, sobbing without restraint against the side of her face and flooding her his emotion. Then he was kissing her cheeks and her mouth as if he could not drink in enough of her.

"Praise Ilúvatar," he stammered. "I thought I had lost you, my beloved!"

Alede was crying too. Her song reached out to his, weaving together with his notes. They whispered softly to each other.

Their desperately tender words would have gone on for quite some time, had not a voice interrupted them. Legolas almost felt angry at the intrusion.

"Legolas?" said a quiet voice behind him. "I think we had best take a look at that wound . . ."

Legolas jerked his head up at Aragorn's words. "Aye, you are right!" Lowering Alede, he grasped the torn edges of Alede's gown and ripped it wide open.

Alede made a sound of protest, but Legolas barely heard it as his bloody fingers explored her belly. Her skin was scorched as if she had been burned by fire and there was a perfect red imprint of Legolas' hand upon her abdomen. Her blood had dried to black flecks, as if it too had been through fire. But of the gaping wound, there was no sign.

Behind him Aragorn chuckled, "I meant the wound on your hand, Legolas. I have seen the healing techniques of Elvin Lords enough times to know that Alede is fine. Though I think in this instance you may have surpassed even Elrond's abilities. No doubt King Thranduil's assistance made the difference."

Legolas turned and stared up at him dumbfounded. Thranduil looked a little uncertain, but not terribly surprised. Elladan nodded sagely, but Elrohir looked a bit pale and had to lean on his twin for support. Alede's demise had obviously frightened him. But before Legolas could question any of them about this ability that had sprung out of him unaware, Alede struggled in his arms.

"Your hand!" she exclaimed. "I had forgotten about your hand! Lord Aragorn, please help Legolas into a chair. Galomir, fetch me some bandages, needle and thread. Thranduil, Romiël has fainted. Take her inside and place a cool cloth on her brow. Gimli that dagger has been neutralized, but I think it would be best if it were melted down . . ."

Legolas finally could not stand it any longer. All the emotion that had ricocheted inside of his scull was finally too much.

He burst out laughing.

Alede looked up at him sharply, no doubt thinking that he was hysterical.

"No," he said to the people who had begun to scurry around to do her bidding or check him for hysterics. "Stop. The first thing that is going to happen is that Alede is going to bed . . ."

"I do not need to go to bed . . ."

"You have lost a tremendous amount of blood."

"I feel fine. I need to tend to your hand. It probably needs stitches. Galomir, do you have those bandages yet?"

"And the second thing," Legolas continued undaunted, "is that you are going to stop bossing everyone around and . . ."

"I am not bossing!"

". . . and let me take care of you. I am your husband and it is my job and my honor to take care of you and this curse has terrified me more than anything has ever terrified me."

"Oh." Alede stopped struggling to rise and lay back in Legolas' arms. "Well . . . if you put it that way . . ."

Legolas smiled and bent his head to press his lips tenderly to hers.

~ ~ ~

In the end it was Aragorn who finally tended Legolas' hand with Gimli hovering anxiously nearby. The Elf pressed his good hand to the Dwarf's shoulder in a silent gesture of gratitude and comfort.

Galomir helped Alede to clean the blood off and tucked her protesting into her own bed.

"Are you certain the threat is gone?" Elrohir asked worriedly.

All of them had squeezed into Alede's bedchamber after she had been tended to and were standing around the bed of the reluctant patient. Radagast was fussing over his daughter. Thranduil had joined them and reassured everyone that Romiël was all right. Legolas, who normally would have given his father a speculative look whenever Romiël was mentioned, let it pass without even a blink. His entire focus was on Alede.

Alede nodded, in reference to Elrohir's question and gestured toward the book on her desk, which had been retrieved. Gimli handed it to her and she gave him a smile before flipping open the pages.

"The Death Curse has only one lifespan," she said her voice filled with relief. "If it fails to kill, the curse dies."

"But how did it come about?" Legolas asked urgently. "It was the knife that Father gave you, but how did it come to be used for such an evil purpose?"

"The magic was Zarraweth's," Alede answered. "I could feel her signature. She must have still been alive after the Griffon dropped her." Alede shrugged regretfully. "I'm afraid I did not check. I was so relieved . . ." she shook her head. "I must have dropped Thranduil's dagger and she used it to activate the curse."

"But how?" Legolas persisted. The fear of what had happened still lingered and the calming notes in Alede's song, for once, did not help. "Zarraweth died nearly a year ago."

"She killed herself," Alede said sadly. "The death curse requires the suicide of the one wielding it."

"But could there have been a back up curse, in case this one failed?"

Alede shook her head wearily and smiled, taking Legolas' hand in hers. "No. She would not have had the strength or the time to make one. It is over. I will place wards around the kingdom tomorrow if it will make you easier. But I promise you, it is over. The feeling of dread that I have had since that last day in Mordor is gone. It was the curse that I sensed. I should have realized that, but I was preoccupied with other things. Fear no more, Husband, all is well."

Legolas looked at her for a long moment, letting his song mingle with hers, letting himself feel her presence, her life force . . . He had almost lost her. Leaning forward, he pressed his forehead gently to hers and closed his eyes.

"Ehem!"

It was Aragorn who cleared his throat and spoke first. "I think we should let both Legolas and Alede rest. There has been enough excitement for the morning, I think."

"That is the most ridiculous understatement I have heard yet, son of Arathorn," Thranduil said in a quarrelsome tone.

"Aragorn speaks for me as well," Gimli snapped, glaring up at the Elvin King. "I could do with a bit less of this kind of excitement."

Thranduil made an irritable sound, but voiced no opinion. Legolas, if he had been paying attention would have been astonished by his father's polite restraint.

But Legolas was not paying attention and so their friends filed slowly out of the room, some of them reluctantly, but most of them nodding and smiling. Radagast was unwilling to leave, but Thranduil prodded him none too gently out the door.

Gimli was the last one out. Legolas had wrapped his song securely around the dwarf, expressing his gratitude and his relief. Instead of feeling left out of the couple's love for each other, Gimli felt included. He would have been hard pressed to say just where he fit into this small family, but he knew that he did. Even as he pulled on the door handle, Alede's song reached out to him, notes of friendship, fluttering over him.

For an instant, he felt the tide of their combined song rush over him like a flood, but then he carefully shut it out. Their song was changing into a symphony, a grand harmony of love. He would join them later, but for now it was time for just the two of them.

As Gimli turned away, he heard the murmur of tender words and the thump of Legolas' clothing falling on the floor. Gimli grinned happily for his friends and closed the door on the soft rustling of bedclothes.

~ ~ ~

*** For those of you wondering about Legolas' newfound powers, I suggest reading my companion story, "Heart of a King". It will explain everything. ;)

A/N: Make sure you catch the epilogue (chapter 18) next week. I think all of you will get quite a kick out of it. ;) Thanks so much for all of your support and comments. You guys are terrific!!!!! :D :D :D

Yeah for Merlynne, she was the first one to guess the quote from last week. It was spoken by Liam Neeson in "Rob Roy" one of my favorite movies. :)

LegolasLover2003 - Thanks for some more great suggestions of Errol Flynn movies. I have Don Juan also and love it! :) I obviously need to rent some more!

I'm not a Johnny Depp fan yet, but I have a feeling I might be after PotC. His character, Jack Sparrow fascinates me. I love eccentric characters that I can sink my literary teeth into. Don't be too surprised if a PotC fanfic shows up on my page someday. ;) lol!