Chapter Forty-Eight: No escape
A/N: Oh, and Chad and me are going out now "unofficially." It's great. Enjoy the story, sorry for the wait, I truly am. I really feel bad, so I'm posting this quickly. I've got a lot typed up now, so it's awesome. Thanks for all of your great reviews, I really love you guys … ^_^
…
Aila left the castle, but not before Legolas had insisted upon her carrying her sword and bow, with an overflowing quiver upon her back. She walked slowly abroad, wandering further from the hidden castle of the elves. The sun was beginning to set, and she knew she should be traveling back, but she did not. She continued to walk, delving deep into the forest. Spiders no longer bothered and blackened the now joyous trees of Mirkwood, which was no longer murky. The sun was almost totally below the horizon, and Aila began to become uncomfortable. She had spent the night alone in the forest many times, and many other times with Legolas, but she had an uneasy feeling that she was being watched. Aila could almost hear the whisperings around her in the trees, not the whisperings of animals, as she always heard now, but the whisperings of other people. Nervously, she began to walk faster, only to hear the whisperings increase, with the seldom crackle of a broken stick, the rustle of unsettled leaves, the murmurings of a swatted bush, the complaints of pressed soil. Quickly, her speed increased until she was flat-out running, and her pursuers no longer put on the façade of being quiet.
Coming up with a story in her head, she halted on the spot, drew her blade and called out to her pursuers.
"Come, elven fiends! Come, and meet your death upon my shining blade!" Her lie continued, and she closed her eyes most of the way, so they looked closed, but were open enough so she could see the men surrounding her, with drawn blades and taut bows. "I was born on the night of a misty moon, half cracked with the look in my eyes. I was conceived in the snowstorm that slaughtered elves in their homes! My name you'll have not, the taste of my revenge you shall!" With that she opened her eyes fully, greeted with the sight of being encircled by grisly men, their blades drawn, but their faces showed recognition that she was no elf. Her lie had obviously worked and they thought her an enemy of elves.
"Hail," cried one of them, an obvious leader. "What of you and your revenge? What ill think you of the elves in these parts? Speak quick, and we shall spare."
"The long or the short of it, master?" She asked, glad she had kept up on the current speech of men.
"The short of it. The long we shall hear, ere or after we return to our camp. Our night you unluckily disturbed, upon your tramping of foot, uneasy wandering. What, assailant of elves, what of your journeys?"
"I was born of two gracious parents here in the realm of Mirkwood, in the shadow of such evil elves as dwell here. However, my parents were disgracefully slaughtered by the devils of the castle, and I live here, wandering throughout this forest, to seek the revenge of my parents upon the unlucky, immortal Ones."
"What of your name," asked the leader. "Why had you run, woman of war?"
"My name suits no one to know, and I ran because I had heard of men that range these parts as well. I knew not of your intentions, nor had I a wonderful life. I trust no one."
"Your name shall suit me," replied the leader, almost angrily. "If my name shall suit you. I am Glorinul of the Dale, and these are my men. We, too, are here to seek revenge upon the elves for unsaid betrayal."
"Aye, betrayal indeed, the elves, the rascals, betrayed me," Aila replied. She was thinking quickly, she had to come up with a name. A quick name, perhaps something that sounded slightly elven that would aid her story. "My name, indeed, Glorinul, is Itarille, the Sparkling Brilliance of the blade."
"Itarille, hail," said Glorinul, "how deserve you of an elven name, such disgrace of our peoples?"
"That," replied Aila, drawing a dramatic pause. "Is the long of it."
"Which I shall hear. Come, Itarille, Blade Brilliance, you shall come to our camp where we shall hear the depth of your story and decide what shall be done with you. Perhaps you may be of aid in our war against the elves."
"You, indeed, hold grudge against the elves?"
"Indeed."
"This story, I must hear as well," Aila replied, hoping she might be able to find something that would help the elves when she was able to return home.
"Indeed," Glorinul repeated, and Aila sheathed her blade, as did the other men that surrounded her. Glorinul beckoned her to come walk with him, but he also beckoned a strong guard to surround her. He was obviously smart, and did not trust her yet.
The camp of the Dale men was not far off, and it only took a few minutes to walk back, and Aila realized how short of a distance she had actually run. It had seemed so long, because of her fear. And now she was in a fine pickle, if she did say so herself. There was a blazing fire near the center of the camp, which was surrounded by many more soldiers. The others followed Aila and Glorinul quickly threw themselves down near the fire and took food from what seemed a community plate. Aila continued to follow Glorinul at a wave of his hand. There was a small fire, just outside of an important looking tent, and Aila could tell this was where Glorinul himself stayed. He sat by the fire, and she sat opposite him, accepting some food that he offered her, but eating none.
"Now, Itarille," he said, fixing her with a noncommittal, but searching, glare. "The long of it."
"As I said, I was born in the shadow of the elves of Mirkwood, and my parents were great friends of theirs. I grew up with the elves, and was given an elven name. Many of them were my friends. They always tried to get our small family to move into their elven realm, but my parents were too polite to accept and they insisted upon living in the dark forest." Here, she was interrupted.
"I fail to understand this. We know of a couple who lived in Mirkwood, and we lost all communications with them. But this is old history. That was hundreds of years old. It is a story barely remembered now. These cannot be your parents."
"You do not understand," Aila replied, desperate. "They were my parents, but while we were still friendly with the elves, they loved me so much that they blessed me with immortality."
"I understand now, continue."
"Well, we would not go live with the elves. But my parents later decided that we should go live in the town by the lake, I know not the name, and we told the elves that we were leaving. They got really offended that we would rather live with men than with them, and my parents tried to explain that they wanted me to grow up around children like me, not of another race, another species, but they got angry, and killed my parents, but they kept me, because they loved me so much, and tried to make me forget. But I was old enough then, and would never forget. I ran away, taking this sword, and this bow. I have wandered Mirkwood since, torturing and killing elves that wandered through the forest, unsuspecting of me."
"Good story," Glorinul said, and she was afraid that he did not believe her, and she would soon be killed, but he continued. "Sounds like what elves would do. Elves are terrible creatures to cross, but so are men. You shall stay with us, and help us in our revenge, and you shall have yours as well. Sleep now, in the tent next to mine, with the guard watching you ever vigilant. We shall speak again in the morning of our next move." He stood up and vanished into his tent. To waste time as she thought, Aila began to slowly eat the food in front of her, not tasting anything as three husky guards hovered around her, between herself and the tent nearby, that was for her. Its previous occupant having been thrown out. Slowly, she stood up and crossed into the tent, pulling the blankets over her as she lay down upon the rough pad on the ground. Outside, she could hear the shuffling of the guards. She was well and truly stuck.
…
Back at the castle of Mirkwood, Prince Legolas was pacing his royal quarters. Findecano had retired earlier to his bed, after the long meeting. They decided that the wars could not wait for the entire elven race to reach Mirkwood to commence. They must begin immediately, in order to make a clear path for the other elves to arrive. However, this was not what was making Legolas harried. Aila had not returned on the walk she had left for hours ago. The sun had set a few hours ago, and he began to worry. He would not have worried, if he thought the far-off light through the trees was her own fire, but his sharp elven ears could hear the voices of other men. It was a camp of their challengers, and Aila had most probably been captured. A visit from those men was imminent, if they had captured her. They would want to use her as bait … if they had not killed her already. The thought made Legolas' spine quiver violently before he could compose himself again.
Still anxious to find out what had become of her, hoping she was all right and would return soon, he slipped into the large bed, quite alone, and woke up constantly in the night, thinking her heard her soft footsteps, or felt her climb into the bed, but when the sun began to shine through the trees into the windows, and flooded his quarters with light, Legolas saw Aila still had not returned, and his worried doubled.
However, he was not left to worry about Aila constantly for much longer, as trumpets of war heralded his ears and her saw the spears and swords of men bristling below in front of the castle.
…
The morning came cold and clear in the Mirkwood forest and Aila was woken by a gruff voice outside her tent as the very fabric around her was being taken down.
"We're breaking camp, lady," she heard what she believed one of her guards to say. "You'd best come out before we pack you up with the tent." Scrambling out, Aila picked up her sword, bow, and quiver and just made it out before the tent came crashing down in her stead. She sat down outside the tent, straightening out her clothes, strapping on her belt and quiver, hooking the bow to it, and rubbing her eyes, pulling fingers easily through her hair.
"Good," she heard Glorinul's voice as he approached her, and she stood up. "You are awake. Today we will march to this castle of Mirkwood and lay siege upon it until the elves give themselves up and we can be rid of them. Come, you will lead us, Itarille." Aila's throat began to stick and there was nothing she could do to talk. Thoughts ran wildly threw her head and she silently nodded and accepted some bread from Glorinul as he led her to the head of the party. Most of the men were already finished and were ready for a long march. She couldn't, of course, possibly lead them back to the castle, to lay siege to her family, friends, and subjects? However, she couldn't simply lead them in a totally different direction, get them lost, and then run away, because she could tell that Glorinul was too smart for that. He had her heavily guarded and if he thought for one moment that she was misleading them, she would be unceremoniously killed, whether she proved for further use or not. There was nothing that Aila could do except lead them to the castle and hope that the best would come of it--for the elves.
"I do not know where the castle is," Aila tried, but Glorinul glared at her searchingly for a moment.
"Of course you do. You grew up by it. It has not been that long. It is not something that you will forget."
"I can try," she stated, "but I can promise nothing."
"You will promise everything, or I promise your slow death."
"I'll try."
"You'll do more than try." The guards surrounding Aila bristled and she could feel the prod of a spearhead in her back.
"Of course," she said, her eyes burning with loathing.
"So challenging," said Glorinul, and there was something in his voice that made Aila shudder, besides his hand upon her cheek, "so beautiful …"
"Let's go," she said resolutely, moving so that his hand fell from her face. She could feel his eyes on her and it made her uncomfortable, but she led them to the castle, hoping that she would be able to escape back to her family and discontinue this lie.
The men followed her, with her guards and Glorinul right beside her. There would be a crackle of leaves, a rustle of grass, and the entire company would be stopped and hushed.
Finally, they reached the castle, only to find the elven castle bristling with bows notched with arrows, elves standing vigilant to guard their realm.
"What do you want?" Aila heard Legolas' voice come challenging over the length of land between the attackers and the defenders. The men and the elves. "What brings you hear to challenge us when all we wish for is peace?"
"Peace?" cried Glorinul, responding for his men who spat upon the ground at the word. "We want no peace! No peace can be had until all elves are dead! You traitors and deceivers. Upon our journey here we met a woman named Itarille, whose parents you killed in cold blood. She is here to seek revenge and so are we! May the castle of Mirkwood run red with elven blood!"
"Itarille?" asked Legolas. "We know not the name."
"Liars!" cried Glorinul. "She is the immortal human, the Sparkling Brilliance of Blade! You slew her parents and now she will slay you." Arrows answered his words and showered down upon the men, killing many.
"Tampa!" stop Aila cried, throwing up her hands and rushing forward. The rain of arrows ceased suddenly. "Kano! Findecano!" Commander! Commander of Skill! she cried. "Legolas!" She heard gasps shudder through the battlements upon the castle. Glorinul came beside her.
"What are you saying to them?" he asked, thinking she was challenging them or something of the like.
"Nothing," she said to him, lying, and he knew it. Then she shouted back towards the castle. "Na-este, na-este!" Be at peace, be at peace
"Aila!" Legolas shouted from the battlements. "Aila!"
"Tampa!" she shouted again. "Amin dur, amin Itarille!" I am in darkness, I am Itarille she cried up to him, trying to send him messages through their minds to tell him what was going on, and it seemed to be working, except the elves on the battlements had no idea what was going on and Findecano had no idea how this person, who looked like his mother, but said she was not, knew his name. "Amin hiraetha. Lle rangwa?" I am sorry. Do you understand?
"Uma," Legolas replied over the tumult, and worry was apparent on his face.
"Tia ten'rashwe," be careful Aila said and Legolas nodded. To Glorinul, it seemed too sentimental. He drew it sword, and held it to her throat.
"Tell me what you are saying … NOW!"
"I just told him he is going to die slowly, he is terrified. Do you see the worry on his face?" Suddenly, Legolas disappeared from her sight, and Findecano took his place. "Findecano!" she cried up at him, and Glorinul had no idea this was a name. "Mani naa ta?" What is it.
"Ho merna maliuva en'lle." He wants to take care of you. Suddenly, Aila understood what Legolas was doing.
"Findecano, tampa ho!" Stop him! Findecano began to disappear as well, but he added on last sentence.
"Amin uva!" I will But it seemed too late. The castle's huge doors were being flung open and soon Legolas was seen rushing out.
"Let me take him," she cried to the rest, "he was the one who killed my father." She knew her sword and ran as if to attack Legolas, but she shouted to him. "Legolas, kel! Kel! Go away! Go away! She brought her sword to his as he approached her.
"They think I hate elves, you can't just rush in here. They'll kill me!" It was then that she realized her chance, as her and Legolas pretended to sword fight. "Legolas," she almost whispered to him. "Get on this side of me, and fight me towards the castle, so that I lose ground and go inside of it, then we'll close the doors and I'll be safe."
"Good," said Legolas, and the continued to fight like they had centuries ago when Legolas was first teaching Aila to fight. The swordfight last for several more minutes, and Legolas was steadily working her back toward the castle, where the doors were creaking open ever so slightly to receive the elven prince and princess. The men of the Dale however, had no idea of this, and they thought that the elf was defeating the wandering warrior they had met upon their paths. Glorinul, thinking of glory himself, snuck around the sword fighting pair.
It was a confusing blur to Aila. One moment, she was sword fighting with Legolas, their plan going perfectly, and then Legolas' blue eyes shot open and clouded over, and he fell to the ground in a misshapen heap, and behind him stood Glorinul, grinning at Aila, and in his hand he held a bloodied sword.
A/N: Oh, and Chad and me are going out now "unofficially." It's great. Enjoy the story, sorry for the wait, I truly am. I really feel bad, so I'm posting this quickly. I've got a lot typed up now, so it's awesome. Thanks for all of your great reviews, I really love you guys … ^_^
…
Aila left the castle, but not before Legolas had insisted upon her carrying her sword and bow, with an overflowing quiver upon her back. She walked slowly abroad, wandering further from the hidden castle of the elves. The sun was beginning to set, and she knew she should be traveling back, but she did not. She continued to walk, delving deep into the forest. Spiders no longer bothered and blackened the now joyous trees of Mirkwood, which was no longer murky. The sun was almost totally below the horizon, and Aila began to become uncomfortable. She had spent the night alone in the forest many times, and many other times with Legolas, but she had an uneasy feeling that she was being watched. Aila could almost hear the whisperings around her in the trees, not the whisperings of animals, as she always heard now, but the whisperings of other people. Nervously, she began to walk faster, only to hear the whisperings increase, with the seldom crackle of a broken stick, the rustle of unsettled leaves, the murmurings of a swatted bush, the complaints of pressed soil. Quickly, her speed increased until she was flat-out running, and her pursuers no longer put on the façade of being quiet.
Coming up with a story in her head, she halted on the spot, drew her blade and called out to her pursuers.
"Come, elven fiends! Come, and meet your death upon my shining blade!" Her lie continued, and she closed her eyes most of the way, so they looked closed, but were open enough so she could see the men surrounding her, with drawn blades and taut bows. "I was born on the night of a misty moon, half cracked with the look in my eyes. I was conceived in the snowstorm that slaughtered elves in their homes! My name you'll have not, the taste of my revenge you shall!" With that she opened her eyes fully, greeted with the sight of being encircled by grisly men, their blades drawn, but their faces showed recognition that she was no elf. Her lie had obviously worked and they thought her an enemy of elves.
"Hail," cried one of them, an obvious leader. "What of you and your revenge? What ill think you of the elves in these parts? Speak quick, and we shall spare."
"The long or the short of it, master?" She asked, glad she had kept up on the current speech of men.
"The short of it. The long we shall hear, ere or after we return to our camp. Our night you unluckily disturbed, upon your tramping of foot, uneasy wandering. What, assailant of elves, what of your journeys?"
"I was born of two gracious parents here in the realm of Mirkwood, in the shadow of such evil elves as dwell here. However, my parents were disgracefully slaughtered by the devils of the castle, and I live here, wandering throughout this forest, to seek the revenge of my parents upon the unlucky, immortal Ones."
"What of your name," asked the leader. "Why had you run, woman of war?"
"My name suits no one to know, and I ran because I had heard of men that range these parts as well. I knew not of your intentions, nor had I a wonderful life. I trust no one."
"Your name shall suit me," replied the leader, almost angrily. "If my name shall suit you. I am Glorinul of the Dale, and these are my men. We, too, are here to seek revenge upon the elves for unsaid betrayal."
"Aye, betrayal indeed, the elves, the rascals, betrayed me," Aila replied. She was thinking quickly, she had to come up with a name. A quick name, perhaps something that sounded slightly elven that would aid her story. "My name, indeed, Glorinul, is Itarille, the Sparkling Brilliance of the blade."
"Itarille, hail," said Glorinul, "how deserve you of an elven name, such disgrace of our peoples?"
"That," replied Aila, drawing a dramatic pause. "Is the long of it."
"Which I shall hear. Come, Itarille, Blade Brilliance, you shall come to our camp where we shall hear the depth of your story and decide what shall be done with you. Perhaps you may be of aid in our war against the elves."
"You, indeed, hold grudge against the elves?"
"Indeed."
"This story, I must hear as well," Aila replied, hoping she might be able to find something that would help the elves when she was able to return home.
"Indeed," Glorinul repeated, and Aila sheathed her blade, as did the other men that surrounded her. Glorinul beckoned her to come walk with him, but he also beckoned a strong guard to surround her. He was obviously smart, and did not trust her yet.
The camp of the Dale men was not far off, and it only took a few minutes to walk back, and Aila realized how short of a distance she had actually run. It had seemed so long, because of her fear. And now she was in a fine pickle, if she did say so herself. There was a blazing fire near the center of the camp, which was surrounded by many more soldiers. The others followed Aila and Glorinul quickly threw themselves down near the fire and took food from what seemed a community plate. Aila continued to follow Glorinul at a wave of his hand. There was a small fire, just outside of an important looking tent, and Aila could tell this was where Glorinul himself stayed. He sat by the fire, and she sat opposite him, accepting some food that he offered her, but eating none.
"Now, Itarille," he said, fixing her with a noncommittal, but searching, glare. "The long of it."
"As I said, I was born in the shadow of the elves of Mirkwood, and my parents were great friends of theirs. I grew up with the elves, and was given an elven name. Many of them were my friends. They always tried to get our small family to move into their elven realm, but my parents were too polite to accept and they insisted upon living in the dark forest." Here, she was interrupted.
"I fail to understand this. We know of a couple who lived in Mirkwood, and we lost all communications with them. But this is old history. That was hundreds of years old. It is a story barely remembered now. These cannot be your parents."
"You do not understand," Aila replied, desperate. "They were my parents, but while we were still friendly with the elves, they loved me so much that they blessed me with immortality."
"I understand now, continue."
"Well, we would not go live with the elves. But my parents later decided that we should go live in the town by the lake, I know not the name, and we told the elves that we were leaving. They got really offended that we would rather live with men than with them, and my parents tried to explain that they wanted me to grow up around children like me, not of another race, another species, but they got angry, and killed my parents, but they kept me, because they loved me so much, and tried to make me forget. But I was old enough then, and would never forget. I ran away, taking this sword, and this bow. I have wandered Mirkwood since, torturing and killing elves that wandered through the forest, unsuspecting of me."
"Good story," Glorinul said, and she was afraid that he did not believe her, and she would soon be killed, but he continued. "Sounds like what elves would do. Elves are terrible creatures to cross, but so are men. You shall stay with us, and help us in our revenge, and you shall have yours as well. Sleep now, in the tent next to mine, with the guard watching you ever vigilant. We shall speak again in the morning of our next move." He stood up and vanished into his tent. To waste time as she thought, Aila began to slowly eat the food in front of her, not tasting anything as three husky guards hovered around her, between herself and the tent nearby, that was for her. Its previous occupant having been thrown out. Slowly, she stood up and crossed into the tent, pulling the blankets over her as she lay down upon the rough pad on the ground. Outside, she could hear the shuffling of the guards. She was well and truly stuck.
…
Back at the castle of Mirkwood, Prince Legolas was pacing his royal quarters. Findecano had retired earlier to his bed, after the long meeting. They decided that the wars could not wait for the entire elven race to reach Mirkwood to commence. They must begin immediately, in order to make a clear path for the other elves to arrive. However, this was not what was making Legolas harried. Aila had not returned on the walk she had left for hours ago. The sun had set a few hours ago, and he began to worry. He would not have worried, if he thought the far-off light through the trees was her own fire, but his sharp elven ears could hear the voices of other men. It was a camp of their challengers, and Aila had most probably been captured. A visit from those men was imminent, if they had captured her. They would want to use her as bait … if they had not killed her already. The thought made Legolas' spine quiver violently before he could compose himself again.
Still anxious to find out what had become of her, hoping she was all right and would return soon, he slipped into the large bed, quite alone, and woke up constantly in the night, thinking her heard her soft footsteps, or felt her climb into the bed, but when the sun began to shine through the trees into the windows, and flooded his quarters with light, Legolas saw Aila still had not returned, and his worried doubled.
However, he was not left to worry about Aila constantly for much longer, as trumpets of war heralded his ears and her saw the spears and swords of men bristling below in front of the castle.
…
The morning came cold and clear in the Mirkwood forest and Aila was woken by a gruff voice outside her tent as the very fabric around her was being taken down.
"We're breaking camp, lady," she heard what she believed one of her guards to say. "You'd best come out before we pack you up with the tent." Scrambling out, Aila picked up her sword, bow, and quiver and just made it out before the tent came crashing down in her stead. She sat down outside the tent, straightening out her clothes, strapping on her belt and quiver, hooking the bow to it, and rubbing her eyes, pulling fingers easily through her hair.
"Good," she heard Glorinul's voice as he approached her, and she stood up. "You are awake. Today we will march to this castle of Mirkwood and lay siege upon it until the elves give themselves up and we can be rid of them. Come, you will lead us, Itarille." Aila's throat began to stick and there was nothing she could do to talk. Thoughts ran wildly threw her head and she silently nodded and accepted some bread from Glorinul as he led her to the head of the party. Most of the men were already finished and were ready for a long march. She couldn't, of course, possibly lead them back to the castle, to lay siege to her family, friends, and subjects? However, she couldn't simply lead them in a totally different direction, get them lost, and then run away, because she could tell that Glorinul was too smart for that. He had her heavily guarded and if he thought for one moment that she was misleading them, she would be unceremoniously killed, whether she proved for further use or not. There was nothing that Aila could do except lead them to the castle and hope that the best would come of it--for the elves.
"I do not know where the castle is," Aila tried, but Glorinul glared at her searchingly for a moment.
"Of course you do. You grew up by it. It has not been that long. It is not something that you will forget."
"I can try," she stated, "but I can promise nothing."
"You will promise everything, or I promise your slow death."
"I'll try."
"You'll do more than try." The guards surrounding Aila bristled and she could feel the prod of a spearhead in her back.
"Of course," she said, her eyes burning with loathing.
"So challenging," said Glorinul, and there was something in his voice that made Aila shudder, besides his hand upon her cheek, "so beautiful …"
"Let's go," she said resolutely, moving so that his hand fell from her face. She could feel his eyes on her and it made her uncomfortable, but she led them to the castle, hoping that she would be able to escape back to her family and discontinue this lie.
The men followed her, with her guards and Glorinul right beside her. There would be a crackle of leaves, a rustle of grass, and the entire company would be stopped and hushed.
Finally, they reached the castle, only to find the elven castle bristling with bows notched with arrows, elves standing vigilant to guard their realm.
"What do you want?" Aila heard Legolas' voice come challenging over the length of land between the attackers and the defenders. The men and the elves. "What brings you hear to challenge us when all we wish for is peace?"
"Peace?" cried Glorinul, responding for his men who spat upon the ground at the word. "We want no peace! No peace can be had until all elves are dead! You traitors and deceivers. Upon our journey here we met a woman named Itarille, whose parents you killed in cold blood. She is here to seek revenge and so are we! May the castle of Mirkwood run red with elven blood!"
"Itarille?" asked Legolas. "We know not the name."
"Liars!" cried Glorinul. "She is the immortal human, the Sparkling Brilliance of Blade! You slew her parents and now she will slay you." Arrows answered his words and showered down upon the men, killing many.
"Tampa!" stop Aila cried, throwing up her hands and rushing forward. The rain of arrows ceased suddenly. "Kano! Findecano!" Commander! Commander of Skill! she cried. "Legolas!" She heard gasps shudder through the battlements upon the castle. Glorinul came beside her.
"What are you saying to them?" he asked, thinking she was challenging them or something of the like.
"Nothing," she said to him, lying, and he knew it. Then she shouted back towards the castle. "Na-este, na-este!" Be at peace, be at peace
"Aila!" Legolas shouted from the battlements. "Aila!"
"Tampa!" she shouted again. "Amin dur, amin Itarille!" I am in darkness, I am Itarille she cried up to him, trying to send him messages through their minds to tell him what was going on, and it seemed to be working, except the elves on the battlements had no idea what was going on and Findecano had no idea how this person, who looked like his mother, but said she was not, knew his name. "Amin hiraetha. Lle rangwa?" I am sorry. Do you understand?
"Uma," Legolas replied over the tumult, and worry was apparent on his face.
"Tia ten'rashwe," be careful Aila said and Legolas nodded. To Glorinul, it seemed too sentimental. He drew it sword, and held it to her throat.
"Tell me what you are saying … NOW!"
"I just told him he is going to die slowly, he is terrified. Do you see the worry on his face?" Suddenly, Legolas disappeared from her sight, and Findecano took his place. "Findecano!" she cried up at him, and Glorinul had no idea this was a name. "Mani naa ta?" What is it.
"Ho merna maliuva en'lle." He wants to take care of you. Suddenly, Aila understood what Legolas was doing.
"Findecano, tampa ho!" Stop him! Findecano began to disappear as well, but he added on last sentence.
"Amin uva!" I will But it seemed too late. The castle's huge doors were being flung open and soon Legolas was seen rushing out.
"Let me take him," she cried to the rest, "he was the one who killed my father." She knew her sword and ran as if to attack Legolas, but she shouted to him. "Legolas, kel! Kel! Go away! Go away! She brought her sword to his as he approached her.
"They think I hate elves, you can't just rush in here. They'll kill me!" It was then that she realized her chance, as her and Legolas pretended to sword fight. "Legolas," she almost whispered to him. "Get on this side of me, and fight me towards the castle, so that I lose ground and go inside of it, then we'll close the doors and I'll be safe."
"Good," said Legolas, and the continued to fight like they had centuries ago when Legolas was first teaching Aila to fight. The swordfight last for several more minutes, and Legolas was steadily working her back toward the castle, where the doors were creaking open ever so slightly to receive the elven prince and princess. The men of the Dale however, had no idea of this, and they thought that the elf was defeating the wandering warrior they had met upon their paths. Glorinul, thinking of glory himself, snuck around the sword fighting pair.
It was a confusing blur to Aila. One moment, she was sword fighting with Legolas, their plan going perfectly, and then Legolas' blue eyes shot open and clouded over, and he fell to the ground in a misshapen heap, and behind him stood Glorinul, grinning at Aila, and in his hand he held a bloodied sword.