Hi again all! Usual disclaimer btw! Now, to the reviews...
*huggles reviewers*
elfmage: wow! tytyty! I'm so glad you like it! Great writing style? Me? I think you've got me confused with someone else...anyway! I know I said review, but wow! Pride is not a good thing....had a huge smile when I went to work the other day! lol, and TY for your reviews! *realises she's rambling and moves on*
Lulubell: OK I'll update!! eep! lol - He is wary of him, but underneath everything, he wanted him back so much that he chose to ignore it and hope for the best. I think...
Lizzie: brain of a turnip! I LOVE it! Well you'll just have to wait and see! LOL!
Anyway, ON WITH THE FIC! (ps, don't forget the review button!!)
It was only two days until Galadriel and her party were due to arrive. Turion had come up with the perfect plan to assassinate his father and frame Aragorn. It had taken some time for him to collect the drugs that would be neccesary to get the human to agree with the story that the elf had created.
Tonight, Aragorn would be found unconcious in the hall with a bloody dagger in his hand and Thranduils body beside him. Turion would be gone before anyone arrived, and who knows, maybe he would be the one to 'find' the tragic scene? The man would have no memory of what happened after he got there and found the king alone, but he would say that all he knew was Thranduil had to die. It was perfect. Turion would play the role of the devastated son, and take the throne tomorrow. Perfect. Turion left to set his plan in action.
.
Meanwhile, in a lonely cave in the mountains, Legolas could only watch horrified as Turion set out to kill his father and frame his friend, being unable to do anything about it...
.
As Turion headed towards the rooms where Aragorn was staying, he passed a group heading the other way in a great hurry.
"What's going on?"
"It's Mithrandir! He's here already!" replied one of the younger elves before running after the others and vanishing round the corner. Turion leaned against the wall for a moment. This couldn't be happening! He wasn't supposed to arrive for days yet! If the wizard were to see him... And his father would be there to welcome the Istari surely, so he couldn't go through with his plan now. It would take hours yet to get everything in place, hours he didn't have.
It could still work, he told himself. As long as I don't admit to anyone that I'm not Legolas, the wizard will only have a suspicion that something's wrong. No one else will know. With that, he hurried off towards Aragorn's rooms.
.
It had started snowing. The entrance to the cave was almost completely blocked off when the group of hunters found it. They had been hunting for food for their village, if it could be called that - it was more a collection of a few huts, when the snowstorm had closed in. The cave had seemed like the perfect place to shelter until it had passed - there was no question of making the trek home. The eldest noticed that there were some dry branches and bits of wood just inside the entrance - this place had obviously been used for shelter before.
"Get a fire going." he told one of his companions. "I'll go look around."
It was pitch black inside the cave, nothing could be seen. The youngest hunter got the flames to catch and the cave slowly became visible. It was bare, except for a figure lying on the ground at the very back. As the eldest hunter got closer, he told the others,
"It's an elf. I think he's dead." His brother came over to stand beside him,
"No look - he's breathing." The slight movement could barely be seen. It was then that the first man noticed the small roll of parchment that lay beside him. It read,
'If you have entered this cave, know that this elf is cursed. You would do well to leave now, if you value your lives. Try to help him, and you will do more harm than good. You cannot wake him, and if you did, the things he is seeing now will have permanantly scarred him. Leave this be.'
One of the older men at the back pushed forward,
"I know him. He's a prince - I used to live in Laketown, near Mirkwood. His father is their king."
"You are sure of this?"
"Yes - I've seen him a few times. From what I know of Legolas, he would not have done something to bring a curse down on him. We have to help him - or at least let the wood-elves know of this." One of the men started to protest, but the first man carried on, "No. I know what the note says, but it's the right thing to do - he saved my life once. I owe him this much."
The oldest member of the group, who was obviously the leader, considered this for a moment. Finally he nodded.
"I think you may be right. As soon as the snow storm stops, we will take him down to the village. We can take him home from there, or send a messenger to the elves to let them know. You should all take some rest - we've got a long walk tomorrow."
.
Gandalf stepped into the hall. Thranduil and a few of his advisers were there discussing something, when the king noticed their guest. Legolas entered a few moments later. Immediately, the wizard knew something was wrong. He could feel the dark magic that surrounded the king's son, it was so strong he imagined he could almost taste it, almost touch it. When he looked at the prince, he knew something was wrong.
"Are you all right?" he asked him. Legolas looked surprised for a moment.
"Of course - is something wrong?" he replied. Until he knew what was the matter, Gandalf decided to mention nothing. If someone was using dark magic on the prince, he had to find out.
"No, nothing. I just..you look tired."
"I've been with Aragorn all day. He was shot some time ago, and I fear a fever has set in. He is really quite ill." He didn't intend to tell them that the reason the ranger had suddenly deteriorated into a dangerously high fever was because of the elfs visit, and the herbs he had used on him.
"I shall go and see him immediately. Galadriel should be here tomorrow morning, Elrond tomorrow afternoon. Legolas, would you come with me?"
The two exited the room, leaving the king and his advisers to carry on their discussions.
When they arrived at the man's room, they found his condition was terrible. He was pale and his skin had a worrying ashen tinge to it, and he had a burning fever. The two wounds in his leg were badly infected. No matter what they tried, they could not get him to wake. Turion knew he wouldn't wake, and although his face was a mask of concern, he was pleased at the dreadful, horrific nightmares the herbs would be giving his 'friend'. Now that the ranger was out of the way, all he had to worry about was Gandalf. Did he know? There was something about the old man when he looked at him that told Turion he did.
"I can treat this easily. But I want to talk to you Legolas. I am worried about you. When you entered the hall earlier, I sensed strong dark magic has been used on you. I do not know what spells have been used, but I fear they mean you great harm. Have you noticed anything strange recently? You haven't had any strange visitors, no unusual symptoms of anything being wrong?" He noticed the elf had gone very pale - he knew something.
"No, nothing at all. Can you tell what the spells are?"
"I cannot tell yet, no, but I will be able to tell you by tomorrow I hope. I will work through the night to find answers if need be. Go and get some rest. I will treat Aragorn, and then try to help you. I will come and get you when I can tell you more."
With that, Turion left. He had to stay away from the wizard. This was trouble - Morrigan was right. He knew, or he would by morning. There was nothing that could be done - he knew he wouldn't be able to kill the Istari. He could only hope Morrigan had masked her spells well enough for the wizard not to see the truth.
.
It was well after midnight, and Gandalf had been working for hours to find the source of the dark spells that surrounded Legolas. He had been sitting in silence for some time now, focussing on the elf - and suddenly, he saw everything that had happened since Aragorn and Legolas were first attacked by the orcs in one blinding flash. This wasn't Legolas! And the real Legolas was in deadly trouble...
*points at review button* :D
*huggles reviewers*
elfmage: wow! tytyty! I'm so glad you like it! Great writing style? Me? I think you've got me confused with someone else...anyway! I know I said review, but wow! Pride is not a good thing....had a huge smile when I went to work the other day! lol, and TY for your reviews! *realises she's rambling and moves on*
Lulubell: OK I'll update!! eep! lol - He is wary of him, but underneath everything, he wanted him back so much that he chose to ignore it and hope for the best. I think...
Lizzie: brain of a turnip! I LOVE it! Well you'll just have to wait and see! LOL!
Anyway, ON WITH THE FIC! (ps, don't forget the review button!!)
It was only two days until Galadriel and her party were due to arrive. Turion had come up with the perfect plan to assassinate his father and frame Aragorn. It had taken some time for him to collect the drugs that would be neccesary to get the human to agree with the story that the elf had created.
Tonight, Aragorn would be found unconcious in the hall with a bloody dagger in his hand and Thranduils body beside him. Turion would be gone before anyone arrived, and who knows, maybe he would be the one to 'find' the tragic scene? The man would have no memory of what happened after he got there and found the king alone, but he would say that all he knew was Thranduil had to die. It was perfect. Turion would play the role of the devastated son, and take the throne tomorrow. Perfect. Turion left to set his plan in action.
.
Meanwhile, in a lonely cave in the mountains, Legolas could only watch horrified as Turion set out to kill his father and frame his friend, being unable to do anything about it...
.
As Turion headed towards the rooms where Aragorn was staying, he passed a group heading the other way in a great hurry.
"What's going on?"
"It's Mithrandir! He's here already!" replied one of the younger elves before running after the others and vanishing round the corner. Turion leaned against the wall for a moment. This couldn't be happening! He wasn't supposed to arrive for days yet! If the wizard were to see him... And his father would be there to welcome the Istari surely, so he couldn't go through with his plan now. It would take hours yet to get everything in place, hours he didn't have.
It could still work, he told himself. As long as I don't admit to anyone that I'm not Legolas, the wizard will only have a suspicion that something's wrong. No one else will know. With that, he hurried off towards Aragorn's rooms.
.
It had started snowing. The entrance to the cave was almost completely blocked off when the group of hunters found it. They had been hunting for food for their village, if it could be called that - it was more a collection of a few huts, when the snowstorm had closed in. The cave had seemed like the perfect place to shelter until it had passed - there was no question of making the trek home. The eldest noticed that there were some dry branches and bits of wood just inside the entrance - this place had obviously been used for shelter before.
"Get a fire going." he told one of his companions. "I'll go look around."
It was pitch black inside the cave, nothing could be seen. The youngest hunter got the flames to catch and the cave slowly became visible. It was bare, except for a figure lying on the ground at the very back. As the eldest hunter got closer, he told the others,
"It's an elf. I think he's dead." His brother came over to stand beside him,
"No look - he's breathing." The slight movement could barely be seen. It was then that the first man noticed the small roll of parchment that lay beside him. It read,
'If you have entered this cave, know that this elf is cursed. You would do well to leave now, if you value your lives. Try to help him, and you will do more harm than good. You cannot wake him, and if you did, the things he is seeing now will have permanantly scarred him. Leave this be.'
One of the older men at the back pushed forward,
"I know him. He's a prince - I used to live in Laketown, near Mirkwood. His father is their king."
"You are sure of this?"
"Yes - I've seen him a few times. From what I know of Legolas, he would not have done something to bring a curse down on him. We have to help him - or at least let the wood-elves know of this." One of the men started to protest, but the first man carried on, "No. I know what the note says, but it's the right thing to do - he saved my life once. I owe him this much."
The oldest member of the group, who was obviously the leader, considered this for a moment. Finally he nodded.
"I think you may be right. As soon as the snow storm stops, we will take him down to the village. We can take him home from there, or send a messenger to the elves to let them know. You should all take some rest - we've got a long walk tomorrow."
.
Gandalf stepped into the hall. Thranduil and a few of his advisers were there discussing something, when the king noticed their guest. Legolas entered a few moments later. Immediately, the wizard knew something was wrong. He could feel the dark magic that surrounded the king's son, it was so strong he imagined he could almost taste it, almost touch it. When he looked at the prince, he knew something was wrong.
"Are you all right?" he asked him. Legolas looked surprised for a moment.
"Of course - is something wrong?" he replied. Until he knew what was the matter, Gandalf decided to mention nothing. If someone was using dark magic on the prince, he had to find out.
"No, nothing. I just..you look tired."
"I've been with Aragorn all day. He was shot some time ago, and I fear a fever has set in. He is really quite ill." He didn't intend to tell them that the reason the ranger had suddenly deteriorated into a dangerously high fever was because of the elfs visit, and the herbs he had used on him.
"I shall go and see him immediately. Galadriel should be here tomorrow morning, Elrond tomorrow afternoon. Legolas, would you come with me?"
The two exited the room, leaving the king and his advisers to carry on their discussions.
When they arrived at the man's room, they found his condition was terrible. He was pale and his skin had a worrying ashen tinge to it, and he had a burning fever. The two wounds in his leg were badly infected. No matter what they tried, they could not get him to wake. Turion knew he wouldn't wake, and although his face was a mask of concern, he was pleased at the dreadful, horrific nightmares the herbs would be giving his 'friend'. Now that the ranger was out of the way, all he had to worry about was Gandalf. Did he know? There was something about the old man when he looked at him that told Turion he did.
"I can treat this easily. But I want to talk to you Legolas. I am worried about you. When you entered the hall earlier, I sensed strong dark magic has been used on you. I do not know what spells have been used, but I fear they mean you great harm. Have you noticed anything strange recently? You haven't had any strange visitors, no unusual symptoms of anything being wrong?" He noticed the elf had gone very pale - he knew something.
"No, nothing at all. Can you tell what the spells are?"
"I cannot tell yet, no, but I will be able to tell you by tomorrow I hope. I will work through the night to find answers if need be. Go and get some rest. I will treat Aragorn, and then try to help you. I will come and get you when I can tell you more."
With that, Turion left. He had to stay away from the wizard. This was trouble - Morrigan was right. He knew, or he would by morning. There was nothing that could be done - he knew he wouldn't be able to kill the Istari. He could only hope Morrigan had masked her spells well enough for the wizard not to see the truth.
.
It was well after midnight, and Gandalf had been working for hours to find the source of the dark spells that surrounded Legolas. He had been sitting in silence for some time now, focussing on the elf - and suddenly, he saw everything that had happened since Aragorn and Legolas were first attacked by the orcs in one blinding flash. This wasn't Legolas! And the real Legolas was in deadly trouble...
*points at review button* :D