Legolas lay on his side, his arm stretched out full-length,
supporting his powerful jaw; his saffron hair fanning in silk strands round
his head like a brilliant corona; his mouth ever so slightly open; and his
eyes closed. His grey leggings were partially visible from beneath the
burgundy ripples of the coverlet, which now only half-covered him. The
crisp white bandages fell away from his torso, revealing - clean, unpiercèd
flesh. The last remnants of evidence of the Black Mace's terrible power had
been completely erased: there was no wound.
From the silhouette of a large Elven statue, a figure watched him silently. After a moment, a soft, prolonged chuckle issued therefrom. A voice followed.
"My poor Cúedhel. What, then, since I met you last?"
Legolas' eyes flickered and opened. Lifting his golden head, he got slowly to his feet. The coverlet spilled like dark wine to the stone beneath him.
"Rivendell..." he murmured, looking around at the empty Council seats. "But I was... Gondor... Orodruin... Did I dream? But then, I had dreamed Andrea, if that be so."
Raising his eyes to the heavens, he pleaded,
"Nay, nay, say me nay! I held her! Where is she?"
"Looking for me, Cúedhel?" Morniwen asked softly, stepping from the afternoon shadows. Before Legolas could answer, she took advantage of his shock to continue,
"No, of course you're not. You're looking for HER. You're looking for the CHILD, the MORTAL, the little copper-headed fool."
"Where is Andrea?" he shouted.
"I have no idea, and if I did, I wouldn't care. I warned you, the last time. I did warn you. But I like you, Legolas. So I'll give you one chance to redeem yourself. Give me the Ring of Adamant."
Legolas' hand moved to grasp the star on its silver chain round his neck, where Sivi and Andrea had placed it before leaving Minas Tirith. It threw watery rays of light across his otherwise bare chest. Very, very quietly, Legolas answered her, his voice deadly.
"You always did want," he said clearly, "everything you could not have. You always did want the things - the people - that were not yours. I will not give you what is not mine to bestow. I will not sully a Ring of Power with the blood that stains your wicked hands."
"Blood?" Morniwen said, her voice shaking with fury.
"Yes, blood. I knew it, that day in Rivendell, years ago. You killed them - your entourage. I didn't know why, but I knew you had done it. That's why - that's one reason why - I would not touch you."
"You fool," Morniwen laughed icily. "Why would I kill them? What could I have gained? No, I USED them; I'm still using them. They make very loyal followers, the Uruks. I didn't kill them - your friend from Rohan did, or he killed some of them, at any rate."
"What are you talking about?" Legolas demanded, a shiver traveling up his spine. Suddenly, his mind realized - his heart wouldn't accept, but his mind realized.
"Whom do you serve? Dare you set yourself against the Valar?" he said, and his voice shook; whether from anger or shock, none know.
"I set myself against the Valar, yes, Prince of Mirkwood. I set myself against Vairë, Yavanna, and Varda, and -" she quivered, as though gathering her courage. "And - and, yes, I set myself against Ilúvatar, as well."
"WITCH!" cried Legolas. "D'you not know what you say?!"
"I know what I say, Legolas son of Thranduil!" she cried, her voice rising breathlessly. "Do YOU know what I say? No, no, you can't, can you? You don't understand," she cried madly. "You have EVERYTHING! You have EVERYTHING! And I had NOTHING, and do you know what my lord the Necromancer promised me? EVERYTHING!!"
"They're empty, Morniwen, they're empty - all his promises! Don't you see that? They're false! Where is he now, your precious Necromancer?"
"He's dead, and you did it, you did that, and I'll make you writhe for it! I will bring him back, and his strength will be concentrated in ME, and it's I who'll never leave his side, I! and not a golden Ring!"
"Speaking of Rings," legolas interrupted, his voice strangely calm -, "it was you, wasn't it, who stole Narya and Vilya?"
"O, yes," Morniwen said proudly. "O, yes. I have powers, you see, but they are not great yet. If I can possess the Three, if I can taint them for my purposes, then it will be that much more power for my master."
"Was it you who brought me here to Rivendell?" Legolas asked quietly.
"Yes, though I must say I expected Lady Galadriel. I called for Nenya, you see. Now that I have Narya and Vilya, I can match the Lady of Light."
Then Legolas did laugh.
"Idiot!" he said scathingly. "Think you that Queen Galadriel's power comes only from a ring? Have YOU been instructed by the Valier? Have YOU lived for three Ages of the world, gathering to yourself all the while beauty, power, and the adoration of hundreds of followers? Can YOU know all the mind of the Enemy, the one you call 'master,' while forbidding him to see even a thought that flashes across yours? No! But the Queen of Lorien has done all of these things, and what is more, she has the utmost faith in her God."
"I have faith in the Necromancer," Morniwen said stubbornly, seething.
"Your Necromancer lives no longer, save as a wretched, disembodied shadow, and while I live and breathe I will do all in my power to make certain he remains thus," Legolas snapped sharply.
"What can you do against two of the Rings of Power?" Morniwen demanded mockingly.
"You have no Rings!" cried Legolas triumphantly, for now he knew that his journey through time had been no dream, since he still possessed the Elven Ring that Galadriel had given him, and now he remembered the last thing he had seen before he fell: a frost over Orodruin and a sapphire light in Sivi's hand.
Morniwen laughed and put a hand to her throat. She drew out a chain from beneath her clothing, and then froze in shock as it became apparent that there were, indeed, no rings about it.
"What have you done?" she hissed, and in her eyes there was a Gollum-like madness and a lusting thirst.
"We have changed Time," Legolas declared in a strong, clear, undaunted voice.
"You FOOL!!!" cried the Elven-witch.
"Who is the fool, Harlot of Darkness? The one who serves the Light of the World, Whose Promises have never been vain and Whose Word has never proved false? Or is it the one who courts Deceit and expects Truth in return?"
Morniwen's mouth worked in dumb, passionate rage, and then she let out a shriek that might have been heard from Carn Dûm to Harad.
"I! WILL! MAKE! YOU! WRITHE!!" she roared.
She splayed her hands, stretching her arms full-length towards him, and a wave of licorice black shot THROUGH Legolas' body and out his back, decimating a stone pillar behind him. Legolas picked himself up off of the floor and brushed himself off.
"I can't help but think that that was supposed to be painful," he commented softly. "Any thoughts as to why it wasn't?"
Morniwen stared at him in horror. Agony - he was supposed to be in agony. Why wasn't he?
"I did pick THIS up while I was on the ground," Legolas continued mildly, turning in his hand a long, slender, flat-bladed sword. The hilt was of a strange white metal set with many sapphires and emeralds, and the blade seemed to be made of glistening diamond.
Morniwen hissed through her teeth and backed away.
"Then you know it?" Legolas queried with raised brows.
"So you even consort with the Queen of the Valier now?" Morniwen screeched. "No wonder you've become so arrogant!"
"The Queen of the Valier?" Legolas exclaimed, genuinely surprised.
"Do you know nothing, ignorant fool? That is Silmë, the Sword of Varda Elbereth!"
Legolas gasped and made to drop the blade, amazed that he was not already smitten to the earth for his impudence in having touched a weapon of the queen of the angelic powers, but it clung to his palms and seemed to shimmer insistently. From beyond the heavens, a female voice like light beneath the ocean's waves came to his heart:
"Take it, Legolas son of Thranduil. It belongs to you, along with much of my power that I gave it when Aulë forged it for me - consider it a boon in exchange for the wound you gave to Sauron, servant of Melkor whom I hate. May it serve you well."
Legolas stood rooted to the spot, trying to discern whether or not Morniwen had heard Queen Varda's words. She seemed to focus only on the now-gleaming blade gripped in Legolas' hands, her face contorted in terror and fury. Legolas felt suddenly powerful. He was master of the situation, and he knew it.
"What, then, sorceress?" he cried. "Will face the Sword of Varda and the Ring of Adamant! Or will you slink back to the serpent's hole you came from?"
Morniwen hissed again, and her body convulsed. Behind her bodice, the muscles of her stomach contracted. She plunged her hand INTO her gut and pulled out a blade of rough, rusted iron. Legolas fought the urge to be sick.
"I will fight you, Pet of Varda, and I will triumph and win your precious blade for my master! This for a servant of the Flame!"
She lashed out with her iron sword, but Legolas' feet were the nimblest of Elves' from his travels with Frodo the Ringbearer. He darted under the iron and swung his own sword.
"Nay, sorceress: THIS for the one who prostitutes herself to Evil Incarnate!" he said in a thunderous voice, and the diamond blade sliced Morniwen's temple and continued down her cheek, across her throat, and through her collar-bone. She screamed and lunged. He dodged and struck again, crying mightily,
"THIS for the one who presumes to defy the Lord!"
This time, the diamond pierced Morniwen's brow and slid across her other temples. Without even giving her time to retaliate, he swung again.
"THIS for the pain your 'master' caused Frodo to whom I pledged my bow!"
The Sword of Varda was suddenly thrust through the Elven witch's shoulder as she shrieked in pain.
"And, at the last, THIS for a copper-haired mortal child who OWNS MY HEART!"
Varda's blade buried itself of Morniwen' breast; there was an eruption of foul black fire and a cry to slit Utumno; and Morniwen was gone.
"Pretty One!" cried a voice behind Legolas.
The Elven-Prince turned to see an assortment of people watching him: Elrond, Galadriel, Celeborn, Haldir, Sarah, Megan, Jeremie, Erynen, Erynsir, Gil-galad, Sivi - and then his eyes came to rest on Andrea, and he saw his beloved alone.
"Squee!" he shouted, to the obvious confusion of Elrond, Celeborn, Galadriel, Erynen, Erynsir, Haldir, Gil-galad, and Boromir (whom Legolas had not yet noticed).
Andrea glomped him hard, and he set her on her feet with a wild laugh of relief. As he held her, one hand still clasped the Sword of Varda, which despite to the many wounds it had given was perfectly clean. Sivi's eyebrows rose.
"Legolas son of Thranduil!" she called in a ringing voice. "See how my mother favors you!"
Legolas followed her gaze to the blade in his hand.
"You m -"
His eyes shot open and he became three shades whiter than a winter moon. Heedlessly, Andrea cried,
"My Pretty One is better!"
"Would some one like to explain to me just what is going on?" Boromir demanded again.
Legolas started and passed out cold.
"My Pretty One is NOT better!" Andrea panicked.
Sivi lifted her hands to the eve's first star and began to laugh.
From the silhouette of a large Elven statue, a figure watched him silently. After a moment, a soft, prolonged chuckle issued therefrom. A voice followed.
"My poor Cúedhel. What, then, since I met you last?"
Legolas' eyes flickered and opened. Lifting his golden head, he got slowly to his feet. The coverlet spilled like dark wine to the stone beneath him.
"Rivendell..." he murmured, looking around at the empty Council seats. "But I was... Gondor... Orodruin... Did I dream? But then, I had dreamed Andrea, if that be so."
Raising his eyes to the heavens, he pleaded,
"Nay, nay, say me nay! I held her! Where is she?"
"Looking for me, Cúedhel?" Morniwen asked softly, stepping from the afternoon shadows. Before Legolas could answer, she took advantage of his shock to continue,
"No, of course you're not. You're looking for HER. You're looking for the CHILD, the MORTAL, the little copper-headed fool."
"Where is Andrea?" he shouted.
"I have no idea, and if I did, I wouldn't care. I warned you, the last time. I did warn you. But I like you, Legolas. So I'll give you one chance to redeem yourself. Give me the Ring of Adamant."
Legolas' hand moved to grasp the star on its silver chain round his neck, where Sivi and Andrea had placed it before leaving Minas Tirith. It threw watery rays of light across his otherwise bare chest. Very, very quietly, Legolas answered her, his voice deadly.
"You always did want," he said clearly, "everything you could not have. You always did want the things - the people - that were not yours. I will not give you what is not mine to bestow. I will not sully a Ring of Power with the blood that stains your wicked hands."
"Blood?" Morniwen said, her voice shaking with fury.
"Yes, blood. I knew it, that day in Rivendell, years ago. You killed them - your entourage. I didn't know why, but I knew you had done it. That's why - that's one reason why - I would not touch you."
"You fool," Morniwen laughed icily. "Why would I kill them? What could I have gained? No, I USED them; I'm still using them. They make very loyal followers, the Uruks. I didn't kill them - your friend from Rohan did, or he killed some of them, at any rate."
"What are you talking about?" Legolas demanded, a shiver traveling up his spine. Suddenly, his mind realized - his heart wouldn't accept, but his mind realized.
"Whom do you serve? Dare you set yourself against the Valar?" he said, and his voice shook; whether from anger or shock, none know.
"I set myself against the Valar, yes, Prince of Mirkwood. I set myself against Vairë, Yavanna, and Varda, and -" she quivered, as though gathering her courage. "And - and, yes, I set myself against Ilúvatar, as well."
"WITCH!" cried Legolas. "D'you not know what you say?!"
"I know what I say, Legolas son of Thranduil!" she cried, her voice rising breathlessly. "Do YOU know what I say? No, no, you can't, can you? You don't understand," she cried madly. "You have EVERYTHING! You have EVERYTHING! And I had NOTHING, and do you know what my lord the Necromancer promised me? EVERYTHING!!"
"They're empty, Morniwen, they're empty - all his promises! Don't you see that? They're false! Where is he now, your precious Necromancer?"
"He's dead, and you did it, you did that, and I'll make you writhe for it! I will bring him back, and his strength will be concentrated in ME, and it's I who'll never leave his side, I! and not a golden Ring!"
"Speaking of Rings," legolas interrupted, his voice strangely calm -, "it was you, wasn't it, who stole Narya and Vilya?"
"O, yes," Morniwen said proudly. "O, yes. I have powers, you see, but they are not great yet. If I can possess the Three, if I can taint them for my purposes, then it will be that much more power for my master."
"Was it you who brought me here to Rivendell?" Legolas asked quietly.
"Yes, though I must say I expected Lady Galadriel. I called for Nenya, you see. Now that I have Narya and Vilya, I can match the Lady of Light."
Then Legolas did laugh.
"Idiot!" he said scathingly. "Think you that Queen Galadriel's power comes only from a ring? Have YOU been instructed by the Valier? Have YOU lived for three Ages of the world, gathering to yourself all the while beauty, power, and the adoration of hundreds of followers? Can YOU know all the mind of the Enemy, the one you call 'master,' while forbidding him to see even a thought that flashes across yours? No! But the Queen of Lorien has done all of these things, and what is more, she has the utmost faith in her God."
"I have faith in the Necromancer," Morniwen said stubbornly, seething.
"Your Necromancer lives no longer, save as a wretched, disembodied shadow, and while I live and breathe I will do all in my power to make certain he remains thus," Legolas snapped sharply.
"What can you do against two of the Rings of Power?" Morniwen demanded mockingly.
"You have no Rings!" cried Legolas triumphantly, for now he knew that his journey through time had been no dream, since he still possessed the Elven Ring that Galadriel had given him, and now he remembered the last thing he had seen before he fell: a frost over Orodruin and a sapphire light in Sivi's hand.
Morniwen laughed and put a hand to her throat. She drew out a chain from beneath her clothing, and then froze in shock as it became apparent that there were, indeed, no rings about it.
"What have you done?" she hissed, and in her eyes there was a Gollum-like madness and a lusting thirst.
"We have changed Time," Legolas declared in a strong, clear, undaunted voice.
"You FOOL!!!" cried the Elven-witch.
"Who is the fool, Harlot of Darkness? The one who serves the Light of the World, Whose Promises have never been vain and Whose Word has never proved false? Or is it the one who courts Deceit and expects Truth in return?"
Morniwen's mouth worked in dumb, passionate rage, and then she let out a shriek that might have been heard from Carn Dûm to Harad.
"I! WILL! MAKE! YOU! WRITHE!!" she roared.
She splayed her hands, stretching her arms full-length towards him, and a wave of licorice black shot THROUGH Legolas' body and out his back, decimating a stone pillar behind him. Legolas picked himself up off of the floor and brushed himself off.
"I can't help but think that that was supposed to be painful," he commented softly. "Any thoughts as to why it wasn't?"
Morniwen stared at him in horror. Agony - he was supposed to be in agony. Why wasn't he?
"I did pick THIS up while I was on the ground," Legolas continued mildly, turning in his hand a long, slender, flat-bladed sword. The hilt was of a strange white metal set with many sapphires and emeralds, and the blade seemed to be made of glistening diamond.
Morniwen hissed through her teeth and backed away.
"Then you know it?" Legolas queried with raised brows.
"So you even consort with the Queen of the Valier now?" Morniwen screeched. "No wonder you've become so arrogant!"
"The Queen of the Valier?" Legolas exclaimed, genuinely surprised.
"Do you know nothing, ignorant fool? That is Silmë, the Sword of Varda Elbereth!"
Legolas gasped and made to drop the blade, amazed that he was not already smitten to the earth for his impudence in having touched a weapon of the queen of the angelic powers, but it clung to his palms and seemed to shimmer insistently. From beyond the heavens, a female voice like light beneath the ocean's waves came to his heart:
"Take it, Legolas son of Thranduil. It belongs to you, along with much of my power that I gave it when Aulë forged it for me - consider it a boon in exchange for the wound you gave to Sauron, servant of Melkor whom I hate. May it serve you well."
Legolas stood rooted to the spot, trying to discern whether or not Morniwen had heard Queen Varda's words. She seemed to focus only on the now-gleaming blade gripped in Legolas' hands, her face contorted in terror and fury. Legolas felt suddenly powerful. He was master of the situation, and he knew it.
"What, then, sorceress?" he cried. "Will face the Sword of Varda and the Ring of Adamant! Or will you slink back to the serpent's hole you came from?"
Morniwen hissed again, and her body convulsed. Behind her bodice, the muscles of her stomach contracted. She plunged her hand INTO her gut and pulled out a blade of rough, rusted iron. Legolas fought the urge to be sick.
"I will fight you, Pet of Varda, and I will triumph and win your precious blade for my master! This for a servant of the Flame!"
She lashed out with her iron sword, but Legolas' feet were the nimblest of Elves' from his travels with Frodo the Ringbearer. He darted under the iron and swung his own sword.
"Nay, sorceress: THIS for the one who prostitutes herself to Evil Incarnate!" he said in a thunderous voice, and the diamond blade sliced Morniwen's temple and continued down her cheek, across her throat, and through her collar-bone. She screamed and lunged. He dodged and struck again, crying mightily,
"THIS for the one who presumes to defy the Lord!"
This time, the diamond pierced Morniwen's brow and slid across her other temples. Without even giving her time to retaliate, he swung again.
"THIS for the pain your 'master' caused Frodo to whom I pledged my bow!"
The Sword of Varda was suddenly thrust through the Elven witch's shoulder as she shrieked in pain.
"And, at the last, THIS for a copper-haired mortal child who OWNS MY HEART!"
Varda's blade buried itself of Morniwen' breast; there was an eruption of foul black fire and a cry to slit Utumno; and Morniwen was gone.
"Pretty One!" cried a voice behind Legolas.
The Elven-Prince turned to see an assortment of people watching him: Elrond, Galadriel, Celeborn, Haldir, Sarah, Megan, Jeremie, Erynen, Erynsir, Gil-galad, Sivi - and then his eyes came to rest on Andrea, and he saw his beloved alone.
"Squee!" he shouted, to the obvious confusion of Elrond, Celeborn, Galadriel, Erynen, Erynsir, Haldir, Gil-galad, and Boromir (whom Legolas had not yet noticed).
Andrea glomped him hard, and he set her on her feet with a wild laugh of relief. As he held her, one hand still clasped the Sword of Varda, which despite to the many wounds it had given was perfectly clean. Sivi's eyebrows rose.
"Legolas son of Thranduil!" she called in a ringing voice. "See how my mother favors you!"
Legolas followed her gaze to the blade in his hand.
"You m -"
His eyes shot open and he became three shades whiter than a winter moon. Heedlessly, Andrea cried,
"My Pretty One is better!"
"Would some one like to explain to me just what is going on?" Boromir demanded again.
Legolas started and passed out cold.
"My Pretty One is NOT better!" Andrea panicked.
Sivi lifted her hands to the eve's first star and began to laugh.