Chapter 7: The ending of many- Part 1
Legolas slowed the horse to a trot with a quick word in elvish. Behind him, he felt Aragorn shift.
"How far have we traveled?" he asked groggily after his small half-awake doze.
"We are almost to the borders of Ithilien. I still do not see why you want to come here, being that it is a diversion from the main track..."
"Legolas trust me. I need a little time here, and maybe you do too. It is far enough away from the City..." He left his sentence unfinished, not ready to say what he will. It was far enough away for him to let Legolas go. He could not travel the entire way to the Grey Havens with his beloved; that would raise too much speculation. Instead, they would part beneath the boughs of Ithilien, only fitting. It was the beginning of many things, and it will too be the end.
"There are so many scouts there though, Faramir's scouts..."
"Trust me on one thing, Legolas, if you cannot trust me on others: I know what I am doing. Have I ever led you astray when it comes to these matters?" Legolas let out a beaten sigh and slowed the horse yet again to a walk as he saw the edge of the woods clearly. The leaves on the trees were a rich yellow color with some red scattered about. It could not compare to the beauty of Lothlorien, or of course, Mirkwood, his home.
His eyes turned northward to where his father's land began. He would never see his dear Ada again; never spend the days in those groves of trees, never meander through the trunks, singing elvish tunes to the stars above. His father no doubt did not know what it was that had happened to him, though this could be for the better. His father's temper could very well get out of hand, and who knows what he would do to get back his precious son.
"Maybe I should stop to bid him farewell," Legolas mused. Aragorn made a questioning sound behind him. "Ada, maybe I should rest in his halls one last time before I cross the seas to the Undying lands. I have not been to my home in so long." Aragorn gulped and did not respond, which could have very well been for the better. "Well, come, we are almost to Ithilien, only the first stop of many we may make."
***
"Sir, my hands are slipping!" poor Mlina cried. Haldir grabbed her wrists, which were bound with twine around his waist, and checked to make sure it was tied. She screamed at his touch, as she sometimes did at random points in time, and his hand shot away.
"They will stay," he reassured her as they cantered along. It was no use having her horse around since she could barely ride; they would be too late. Already in Ithilien! "Damn," he muttered.
Suddenly, He saw movement inside the forest. He knew that fair face, even from this distance. They were going slowly, but Haldir did not stop. Instead, he turned to the right, expecting to come up on their side. He knew Legolas would not be looking behind for him.
Nor would Aragorn.
Haldir took a deep breath. Many anxieties weighed on his heart. After his deed was done, he would have little time alone. There were so many scouts in the woods of Ithilien, and news travels fast.
Soon, they were at the border. Haldir dismounted, helping Mlina down, though she squirmed out his grip as much as she could. Finally, out of irritation of her constant shrieks (which he muffled with his hand) and her feeble attempts to flee, he pinned her against a tree, his hands on her shoulders. She sobbed and cried, her face red with tears flowing down it.
"Don't do this again," she pleaded. Haldir, out of complete anger, backhanded her. She gasped but remained still.
"I will do something if you do not stand still! My patience is little right now, for my plan shall soon be instituted. I need your help though. In this forest, the King Aragorn and his...lover...wander these woods, directly due west of us, I do believe. You must come up to them, saying that the servants sent you out as a messenger and a scout to find him, for everyone at the palace worries over his disappearance. This is only a distraction, though. Their minds must be elsewhere." Now, he talked more to himself. "If you can, you must lure them closer to me. I will show you where, and you must bring them there. I do not know whether or not they know where the glade is." Mlina nodded, biting her bottom lip to hold back a sob.
"Don't hurt me," she cried. Haldir loosened his grip. "I will do this for you." His hands dropped fully to his sides.
"We need to get back on the horse. Please, Mlina, just this one time, trust that I will not harm you." Even with those words, she was not comforted. Painful images flashed through her mind of a night long ago, years it felt, though it was less than a year. He said he would never harm her; he was so gentle to begin with, so calm, but he turned on her.
"Come on now, I'll give you a lift up!" he called from the horse, holding down his hand. Mlina clambered up on the tall back and clasped her hands shakily around Haldir's waist despite the searing dreams floating through her mind.
"How did it happen?" Haldir suddenly asked thirty minutes into the ride. Mlina started from where she drifted in and out of sleep. "Who was it that scarred you like this?"
"I wish not to talk about it," she answered quickly, banishing her dreams to the back of her mind.
"I am sorry if it offended you." Despite her distrust of the elf, Mlina could not help but hear the sincerity in his words. Her throat tightened.
"He sounded sincere, when he promised he would not do anything without my permission," she croaked. "Even when he was drunk, he was trusting, good to me. He never made any advances."
Until that day...
His breath was heavy with alcohol. Mlina rose to greet him, even when she noticed his swagger and drunken expression. She wrapped her arms around him in a short embrace.
"I was worried," she said, taking his hand and leading him back into the bedroom they shared. He smiled impishly and grabbed hold of her wrist. "Please, dear, let go, that hurts."
"My beaut'," he slurred. "You're so beaut'." Mlina turned around to face him. His eyes glowed with lust as he began to kiss her, sometimes missing her mouth in his stupor. His hands began to wander.
"Please, don't do this," she whispered, pushing his hands away. "I don't want that now." He would not stop though, and now, he took her forcefully.
"You'll wan' it soon enough." He flung her on the bed, and she screamed as he tore off her dress, pressing hard on her. His rancid breath choked her, but she could not look away. She beat frantically at his body, but he would not move; he was too heavy. He ran his hands along her body, massaging her sides, up her arms, coming to rest on her chest.
"Get off!" she cried out, both in reality and in her memories. She screamed and almost fell off the horse as she pulled away from Haldir, who had turned to look at her. Tears ran down her face. "Don't touch me." She screamed again as she fell from the moving beast and to the ground, the high-pitched squeal echoing throughout the forest, clearly loud enough for any elf to hear, or a Ranger for that matter.
***
Legolas did hear Mlina's screech, and he turned to face it.
"That was a woman's scream," he stated to the confused Aragorn. He rested his hand on Legolas' shoulder, leaning in next to him, peering into the woods. "It was a long way off, I know."
"Should we go to it?" Legolas contemplated for a moment, but something compelled him to shake his head.
"I fancy getting to Mirkwood as soon as possible, and look, to our west the sun burns behind the trees, and night descends upon us. Though I treasure the stars of my kind, we must find a place to rest while we have at least some light to work by."
They found a place to settle, a small break in the trees. The ground sloped down, the grass slightly brown. Legolas' mind reeled as he slumped to the ground in that place, memories floating back painfully.
"We cannot rest here," he whispered. Aragorn put a hand on his shoulder and kneels beside him. "I know where this is."
"Legolas," Aragorn started. It was all too well planned.
"You mean to take me hear," he muttered. He sighed and lifted his lover into his arms. Tears ran down his face, but he could not speak, so he soundlessly wept on the elf's hair. Legolas hesitantly parted, wiping a tear from Aragorn's cheek.
"No," he whispered, clinging tightly to the man. "You will leave me here, again."
"Legolas, I will only leave when you are ready, but it should be soon," he finally said, punctuating it with a sob. Legolas shook his head from side to side until it pounded, and he buried his face in Aragorn's tunic, clinging tightly to the fabric.
"Come with me as far as you can," he pleaded. "I never want to leave your side." The relapse of Legolas' sudden grief brought the truth down on Aragorn's head painfully. No matter what it was that he did, he would have to go all the way or risk Legolas losing control along the lonely roads. He stroked the elf's hair and sunk to the ground.
"Don't worry, Legolas. I will follow you into death and beyond. I will trace your every footstep, and I will never be far." He rocked the body back and forth, balancing the elf in his lap and singing softly to him.
Legolas never let go.
***
Only two hours, the elf was fine again, sarcastically showing his affection to Aragorn. Now, they both sat beside a fire, after a good meal of dried fruit and some other plants around the forest.
"Who did it then?" mused Aragorn as he watched the flickering flames, dancing along the wood. "Who killed her?" The question startled Legolas out of his thoughts, and he cocked his head at Aragorn.
"Who killed her?" he repeated as if in a trace of sorts.
"Yes, who could have shot that arrow? Wait, what was it that you said about the long bows, what information you gathered?" A dark feeling grew in his heart, and Legolas looked behind him to the east.
It took Aragorn a moment to formulate a reply. "The bows, long bows, capable of shooting that arrow, are only made in Lothlorien and Mirkwood. The archer would have to have quite a lot of skill. I could not get the elf to say anymore. What do you see with your elvish mind, my love?"
"Say those words again," he said distractedly.
"My love," Aragorn repeated, confused. Legolas put his head between his knees as he thought. He felt breath on his ear, but it was only a memory, stinging at his mind.
"Aragorn, tell me, what was the tip of the arrow like?" He had his eyes closed now, as if envisioning something.
"It was very sharp, more than usual, and white, like ivory..." Legolas let his mind fail then, as truth revealed itself to him. In that moment, he felt life crash down, but not in the way that it had before. This time, he felt the darkness grow to encompass all of himself and Aragorn, along with most of the forest. It radiated from somewhere within, a hunter stalking its prey. So close, it was to the kill. It was ready whenever needed.
It all made sense now.
***
Mlina picked her dress up off another broken branch, bunching it up so that she could walk easier through the underbrush. Her eyes stung, and blood dripped from her legs in numerous cuts and bruises. This forest was no haven at all.
Now, her mind was a little too preoccupied to feel pain though. Tension built in the air around her, growing ever greater as she walked on. Somewhere, something great happened, something twisted though, and she was in the middle of it, caught between two armies.
Haldir was such an evil man...elf. She cringed and protectively tensed, but he was not there to harm her again. He was right; only that night did he dare try anything, but the point was that he did in fact try something. Mlina could have lived a normal life; she was even getting over what he did to her, with much help from the other servants, but he came to her and rekindled those pains buried deep within her.
A sudden burst of pity flowed through her for his quarry. Whatever his intentions, they were for ill, to be certain, and he intended not to make it pleasant for his victims; he never did. Mlina vaguely recalled him mentioning whom it was he hunted.
With a gasp, covered by her hand, Mlina remembered whom it was she journeyed to now, to distract him, who it was receiving Haldir's vile plan.
The King.
With nimbleness that startled herself, Mlina dashed through the trees, picking the cleanest path and sprinting along it. She had to reach the king before Haldir did; she had to. Foreboding encircled her, forcing her to move faster than she ever had. She was running out of time, and she felt, deep inside her heart, whose life it would be that would be taken in this battle.
***
The hunter looked around, with the trees thinning now. He hid behind a trunk and waited for all sounds to die down before he took more soundless steps. A long bow he carried in his right hand, ready when needed.
Somewhere, ahead of him, his ears picked up on voices, two men speaking. He stopped, holding his breath, and listened to who they were, placing those familiar speakers, though he listened more to the clear, pure sound of the fairer one. Still, that could come later, and his beauty assessed another time. There was more to do now.
He crept to the edge of the clearing, making sure that the trees concealed him from the light of the fire. He notched an arrow to his bow, his arm, for the first time in a while, shaking. Sweat dripped on his face, but he did not wipe it away; it would make noise. He knew that he if was less than a fraction of a centimeter off, all would fail, he would hit the wrong target, and there would be no more point...
I must concentrate. He forced himself to think, calm his arm, listen to conversation. Strangely, he found it was about him, and now, he lowered his bow, to eavesdrop on it...
And to allow the lovers their last moments together.
The last chapter will be the last, I think. I hope to have it up soon, so don't stop reading now!
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