CHAPTER 15 - Not Dead, Not Alive
"Dead?" whispered Elrond as Celebrian rushed in and Mithrandir ushered the guards out of the room.
A small moan escaped Elrohir's lips.
"I . . . I do not know. He is not there,"
Celebrian took hold of her sons' hand gently and stroked his hair, whilst exchanging a petrified glance with her husband. Mithrandir strode back over and knelt down next to them as they pulled the young elf in to a sitting position, leaning his back against the leg of the table.
"What do you mean by, 'he is not there' Elrohir?" asked Mithrandir. Elrohir turned to him with wide, shinning eyes.
"He is not there," the elf whispered, "I can always feel him, sense him. His fëa is always there even if I cannot see him. I know where he is at all times, and I know what he thinks, or if he is in pain," here Elrond and Celebrian blanched, "But now . . . now there is nothing. He is not there,"
He drew his knees up to his chest and hid his head in his arms as a tear trickled down his cheek. Celebrian wrapped her arms around him and made motherly crooning sounds. Mithrandir shook his head.
"I do not know what to do," he muttered. Elrond found himself in the same position. They continued to sit there as Elrohir cried and cried, sobbing pitifully as Celebrian comforted him.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
At last, the pain had left Legolas, and he had dragged himself over to where Oroweth was shackled to the wall, unable to move, and had curled up, leaning against one of his brothers' legs finding comfort as he had done with Thellind. He stared at the great stone wall opposite.
"Have you seen the others?" he asked, eventually.
"I have seen Astaler and Nuryávië, but not Thellind or Elladan," came the reply, as Oroweth looked down at his little brother curled up by his feet. Legolas looked up, his blue eyes shinning brightly with an inner light.
"Thellind will not speak," he muttered, "They brought him in to my cell, though I do not know what they have done to him. He was . . . scared, and he was in a terrible state. There was blood. Lots of blood. He threw the torch on the floor so it went out,"
"Why did he do that?"
"You can hide in the dark,"
Legolas went back to staring at the wall. He shivered. The room was cold, yes, but that was not why he had shivered. The blonde could feel a terrible sense of foreboding, but even worse, he found himself welcoming it. He shivered again. A drop of Oroweth's blood dripped on to his shoulder making Legolas squirm, though he made no attempt to brush it away.
"What did they do to Astaler and Nuryávië?" Legolas asked, after a few moments had past slowly, drawing out like eternity. As the silence began to draw out again, Legolas thought his brother was not going to answer, but at last he did.
"They . . . that is, Neldoreth . . ."
The prince looked up again, but he could not see Oroweth's face. He had turned away, and his dark hair was acting like a blood-matted curtain. A tear splashed on to the floor.
"They dragged us both here, Astaler and I, and they took Nuryávië and Thellind somewhere else. They chained me to the wall and whipped me, as you can see, but did not hurt me so much. You remember they gave you the black liquid?" Legolas nodded and shuddered. Things like that were impossible to forget. "Well they gave us both that. Then they put a heavy black bag over Astalers head and fastened it down by putting an iron collar around his neck, and then beat him until he . . . until he was too weak to react. Then they took him away, and I know not what happened to him after that.
"Soon after that they brought Nuryávië here. They beat me again, though they seemed to favour Nuryávië, as they did with you," Legolas turned his head away in shame. The thought of being favoured by orcs made his skin crawl.
"They gave him a lump of meat though the Valar alone know what it was in life. I would swear it was rotting. Nuryávië could not eat it, so they forced it down his throat. As soon as they let go of him, he threw it all up, so they brought more meat and made him eat that. He almost threw that up as well, but Neldoreth kept his hand clamped over his mouth. Again, they made him drink that disgusting liquid and dragged him out. He was shaking so much it is a wonder he could move. Then they brought in you, and you know what happened next. I would give anything to find out what the liquid was."
When the older prince stopped speaking, there was again silence. Time passed only with the flickering of the light, making shadows dance in the cell.
At last, the door slammed open and Legolas felt his skin crawl with anticipation. Neldoreth, or Urshak, came in dragging Thellind in with him. The silent prince looked up at his brothers and then looked away, hiding his face. He stumbled and fell to his knees.
Legolas made to move forwards, but an over sized orc grabbed hold of him, pinning his arms to his side as the leathery arm wrapped itself around the elf's waist, making sure he could not move.
The prince watched helplessly as the orc captain, once an elf, forced the bottle of liquid down Thellind's throat. As he stood back, letting Thellind curl up on the floor with the pain, still silent, rage bubbled up in Legolas' blood. With a cry, he stamped on the foot of the orc holding him, making the orc loosen his grip, surprised at the sudden retaliation. Taking the advantage, Legolas wriggled free from the huge orc, span around and hit the creature with all the force he could muster, making the creature fall to the floor ungracefully. Grabbing the curved scimitar from its hand, the prince swung the weapon and pierced the heart of the orc, killing it instantly. Black blood flowed, creating rivulets on the floor. As if from far away, Legolas could hear Oroweth cheering. He turned around and leapt across the room, placing himself between Thellind and the remaining orcs, expecting the to try and kill him. He was wrong.
Stepping forwards, Urshak began clapping slowly. The two orcs behind him knelt down on one knee and bowed their heads, in a very un-orc like manner. Legolas froze, unsure what to do.
"Well done, Little Songbird," rasped the captain, "You pass the test. You may keep your elven body. Gurthund! Urblug!"
The two orcs got up from where they were kneeling and prised the scimitar from Legolas' hands without much resistance. Once of them grabbed Legolas' right arm and tore the sleeve at the elbow, ripping it away and throwing it on the floor, and then held the princes' arm out. Drawing a dagger, faster than lighting the orc captain slashed at the prince's forearm, cutting the 'n' rune deep in to the flesh. The orcs let go and the blond elf fell to his knees, clasping at his arm.
The two orcs disappeared out of his vision for a few moments, and then returned with what appeared to be long, black threads. To his right, Legolas heard Oroweth gasp with horror. Looking around, Legolas realised what the black threads were from. The two orcs had scalped the dead orc, and ripped the black threads from the skin. The black threads were hair.
Legolas looked around at the smirking Urshak in shock, and as their eyes met the prince realised what the orc was going to do with the hair. He swayed backwards as the orcs advanced, but it did not help. Urshak ripped out the princes' warrior braids, so recently earned, only three months ago, and the prince stifled a moan of pain. He felt a tugging sensation at the roots of his hair for a few minutes, and then Urshak stepped back, an evil smile on his features. Legolas just stared at him.
Snatching the bloodied scimitar that Legolas had used to kill the large orc, Urshak wiped away the thick black blood, making the blade shine. He held it in front of Legolas, who gasped.
In the reflection, the prince of Mirkwood could saw a face staring back at him, so unlike the face he was used to. His face was white, with not a speck of colour, and his glowing blue eyes seemed much larger than he remembered. His skin seemed to glow slightly, although that could just have been to do with the reflection.
Then he looked at his hair.
His once perfect, shinning gold locks had lost their sheen and seemed to hang about his shoulders in a state akin to dreadlocks. He saw, in the reflection, plaits, but that could not be right, as Urshak had just ripped them out. Then Legolas saw the black hair woven tightly in with the braids and knew what had happened and gasped, covering his mouth with his hands.
"Yes," sneered the orc, "That's right, Little Songbird. You're one of us now,"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A pair of guards sat silently in separate trees, not far from the bridge leading to king Thranduil's halls. As usual, the two guards were very bored, as can only be expected from sitting in one place for hours on end, and had begun a game, flirting shamefully at the same time.
One would throw an acorn at the other, and the other would attempt to catch it, and then throw it back. The only problem was that neither was sure who was supposed to be throwing, and who was supposed to be catching, as they were continuously throwing the acorns without waiting for the other to catch any. In this way, many more acorns were being thrown than caught, and the path was littered with the small things.
The two elves were not, therefore, paying attention to the path, and were caught off guard when they heard a throat being cleared below them. They stopped their game instantly and looked down sheepishly, expecting an angry elder or captain. They were wrong.
Standing on the path below, looking up at them was an orc wearing, as it happened, non-orcish clothing. It was dressed in a clean, brown leather tunic and brown leather leggings with a dark belt around its waist and a scimitar at its side. The orc had large, black boots, not unlike those the elves themselves were wearing, and a long, flowing cape flowed from its shoulders. The elves exchanged glances and within less than a second the orc found itself the target of two bows. It held up its hand, palm facing the guards, and bowed.
"What is your business here, orc?" snarled the elf-maiden.
"I have a message for your king and queen concerning the capture of six elves, five of whom are princes, from my captain Urshak," called back the orc. The two elves exchanged glances. The orc was strange, no doubt about it. The male guard dropped down from his branch, keeping his arrows trained between his adversaries' eyes.
"What is the message?" he asked. The orc shrugged his shoulders in the most annoying and aggravating way possible.
"For the ears of the royal couple only, little elf. Your station is too low to merit the knowledge,"
The guards narrowed their eyes dangerously.
"We could kill you now,"
"You could, but then your king and queen will never know what happened. Besides, you would gain nothing from it. I am merely the messenger,"
The elven guard standing opposite the orc gritted his teeth with anger.
"Why should we trust you?" called the elf from her tree. The orc looked up at her, smirking.
"If you do not, the king and queen will never know what happened to their darling babies," mocked the messenger, "So you have a choice. You could kill me, as your partner wishes, or you could trust me,"
"Elves do not trust orcs,"
A smile came to rest on the features of the orc, unnerving the two guards. The guard in the tree shifted her weight and reached out with her senses, trying to work out if the orc was leading them in to some sort of a trap. The forest around her was not silent, but filled only with the usual forest sounds. Nothing else unusual apart from the well-dressed orc.
"Will this do to persuade you?" asked the orc. He drew from inside his cloak an elvish dagger bearing the badge of Thranduil's house on the hilt and perfectly crafted runes going down the blade reading, 'Greenleaf'. The elf in the trees dropped down beside her companion and they exchanged a look.
"Come with us," she commanded.
The orc swaggered between the two, and they closed ranks behind him, keeping their bows trained on him and their senses open, readying themselves for attack.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
In the darkness, Nilwethion could hear voices around him. A healer. Naneth. Adar. Calensil. Everything seemed blurred as his mind swam through the darkness. Was he dead? That was what he heard his naneth say, but he did not feel dead.
"Who is Hollinethir?"
The prince heard his adar speak, the first clear voice he had heard in so long. The name rang a bell. Of course! Hollinethir was his sister, as yet unborn. Light began to fill Nilwethion, exploding inside him, bringing back memories. The prince felt warmth around him, and the folds of fabric. The sounds became clearer. There was the smell of candles and flowers.
Prising open his eyes, Nilwethion looked around and the room span.
"What . . . Where . . ." he managed, before the room suddenly went silent.
"Nilly?"
The first voice to break the silence was Calensil, her voice full of disbelief. He turned his head on his pillow and focused on his little sister. He watched her face light up.
"Nilly!" she cried, leaping off the queens' lap and on to the bed, wrapping her arms around Nilwethion's neck. His adar leapt across the room with a couple of strides and sat down on the edge of the bed, his face full of joy and happiness.
From the chair where she sat, the queen screamed and burst in to tears, grabbing hold of Calensil and dragging her away from the bed. Only then did Nilwethion notice that a black veil covered her face. He looked at Thranduil as the queen began to sob.
"My baby," she whispered, "I will not let go of you. I will not loose you like the others!"
"Adar?" gasped the prince, finding his voice, "Adar what is naneth talking about?"
"Nilwethion . . ." began the king, but he was interrupted by his wife's sobs as she almost choked Calensil.
"SILENCE! My son is dead and you do not care!" she cried, and then ran out of the room, carrying Calensil who reached out an arm to Nilwethion. The door slammed shut behind her. Again, silence filled the room. A few moments later, a nervous knock broke the silence and the door was cautiously opened. The head of a guard poked nervously around, and the guard entered the room.
"My king, there is a messenger with news of your sons," he muttered, "It is an orc. We have him in the throne room. He says his message is for your ears alone,"
The king nodded and looked down at Nilwethion.
"I will be back soon," he said, and made to leave.
"Adar?" called the prince, "What is going on?"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A/N: **cackle** Hmm, I'm proud of this chapter. I did have something to say, but I can't remember what it was, so I won't say it.
PERSONAL REVIEW THINGY
MAVERIK GIRL ~~ you think I'm torturing YOU? Pity the elves! Nah, you're right. I couldn't kill off two of my favourite characters in such a short space of time.
IMBEFANIEL ~~ very pretty song, but I don't usually put songs in to my fics. When I find them in other fics I usually skip over them, so I guessed that other people would do the same if I put them in my fics. Also, if I did end up putting one in it would be one of Tolkiens. No offence of course, as it was such a pretty song.
DOT ~~ Hehe. Thanks. Mithrandir won't do much yet, but he will have a bigger part later on.
LEXIE ~~ Thanks so much!
ELFAER GILIELL ~~ Now that would be telling. I will give away that at least two people die though. You'll just have to wait to find out to see who it is,
ORODRUIN ~~ Oh wow! Thanks so much! They didn't really have to be hard on one for the other to feel the pain, but yes they were very hard on the poor elf. Yes, they are princes in a way, however that doesn't bother the orcs. The orcs are only treating the Mirkwood princes the way they are because Urshak/Neldoreth is completely twisted and wants his little bro's on his side.
TAMARA ~~ no, he isn't dead. Besides, he's in Tolkiens books so I couldn't kill him off, even if I wanted to.
LEGAWIEN ~~ you'd better start believing then, lol.
"Dead?" whispered Elrond as Celebrian rushed in and Mithrandir ushered the guards out of the room.
A small moan escaped Elrohir's lips.
"I . . . I do not know. He is not there,"
Celebrian took hold of her sons' hand gently and stroked his hair, whilst exchanging a petrified glance with her husband. Mithrandir strode back over and knelt down next to them as they pulled the young elf in to a sitting position, leaning his back against the leg of the table.
"What do you mean by, 'he is not there' Elrohir?" asked Mithrandir. Elrohir turned to him with wide, shinning eyes.
"He is not there," the elf whispered, "I can always feel him, sense him. His fëa is always there even if I cannot see him. I know where he is at all times, and I know what he thinks, or if he is in pain," here Elrond and Celebrian blanched, "But now . . . now there is nothing. He is not there,"
He drew his knees up to his chest and hid his head in his arms as a tear trickled down his cheek. Celebrian wrapped her arms around him and made motherly crooning sounds. Mithrandir shook his head.
"I do not know what to do," he muttered. Elrond found himself in the same position. They continued to sit there as Elrohir cried and cried, sobbing pitifully as Celebrian comforted him.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
At last, the pain had left Legolas, and he had dragged himself over to where Oroweth was shackled to the wall, unable to move, and had curled up, leaning against one of his brothers' legs finding comfort as he had done with Thellind. He stared at the great stone wall opposite.
"Have you seen the others?" he asked, eventually.
"I have seen Astaler and Nuryávië, but not Thellind or Elladan," came the reply, as Oroweth looked down at his little brother curled up by his feet. Legolas looked up, his blue eyes shinning brightly with an inner light.
"Thellind will not speak," he muttered, "They brought him in to my cell, though I do not know what they have done to him. He was . . . scared, and he was in a terrible state. There was blood. Lots of blood. He threw the torch on the floor so it went out,"
"Why did he do that?"
"You can hide in the dark,"
Legolas went back to staring at the wall. He shivered. The room was cold, yes, but that was not why he had shivered. The blonde could feel a terrible sense of foreboding, but even worse, he found himself welcoming it. He shivered again. A drop of Oroweth's blood dripped on to his shoulder making Legolas squirm, though he made no attempt to brush it away.
"What did they do to Astaler and Nuryávië?" Legolas asked, after a few moments had past slowly, drawing out like eternity. As the silence began to draw out again, Legolas thought his brother was not going to answer, but at last he did.
"They . . . that is, Neldoreth . . ."
The prince looked up again, but he could not see Oroweth's face. He had turned away, and his dark hair was acting like a blood-matted curtain. A tear splashed on to the floor.
"They dragged us both here, Astaler and I, and they took Nuryávië and Thellind somewhere else. They chained me to the wall and whipped me, as you can see, but did not hurt me so much. You remember they gave you the black liquid?" Legolas nodded and shuddered. Things like that were impossible to forget. "Well they gave us both that. Then they put a heavy black bag over Astalers head and fastened it down by putting an iron collar around his neck, and then beat him until he . . . until he was too weak to react. Then they took him away, and I know not what happened to him after that.
"Soon after that they brought Nuryávië here. They beat me again, though they seemed to favour Nuryávië, as they did with you," Legolas turned his head away in shame. The thought of being favoured by orcs made his skin crawl.
"They gave him a lump of meat though the Valar alone know what it was in life. I would swear it was rotting. Nuryávië could not eat it, so they forced it down his throat. As soon as they let go of him, he threw it all up, so they brought more meat and made him eat that. He almost threw that up as well, but Neldoreth kept his hand clamped over his mouth. Again, they made him drink that disgusting liquid and dragged him out. He was shaking so much it is a wonder he could move. Then they brought in you, and you know what happened next. I would give anything to find out what the liquid was."
When the older prince stopped speaking, there was again silence. Time passed only with the flickering of the light, making shadows dance in the cell.
At last, the door slammed open and Legolas felt his skin crawl with anticipation. Neldoreth, or Urshak, came in dragging Thellind in with him. The silent prince looked up at his brothers and then looked away, hiding his face. He stumbled and fell to his knees.
Legolas made to move forwards, but an over sized orc grabbed hold of him, pinning his arms to his side as the leathery arm wrapped itself around the elf's waist, making sure he could not move.
The prince watched helplessly as the orc captain, once an elf, forced the bottle of liquid down Thellind's throat. As he stood back, letting Thellind curl up on the floor with the pain, still silent, rage bubbled up in Legolas' blood. With a cry, he stamped on the foot of the orc holding him, making the orc loosen his grip, surprised at the sudden retaliation. Taking the advantage, Legolas wriggled free from the huge orc, span around and hit the creature with all the force he could muster, making the creature fall to the floor ungracefully. Grabbing the curved scimitar from its hand, the prince swung the weapon and pierced the heart of the orc, killing it instantly. Black blood flowed, creating rivulets on the floor. As if from far away, Legolas could hear Oroweth cheering. He turned around and leapt across the room, placing himself between Thellind and the remaining orcs, expecting the to try and kill him. He was wrong.
Stepping forwards, Urshak began clapping slowly. The two orcs behind him knelt down on one knee and bowed their heads, in a very un-orc like manner. Legolas froze, unsure what to do.
"Well done, Little Songbird," rasped the captain, "You pass the test. You may keep your elven body. Gurthund! Urblug!"
The two orcs got up from where they were kneeling and prised the scimitar from Legolas' hands without much resistance. Once of them grabbed Legolas' right arm and tore the sleeve at the elbow, ripping it away and throwing it on the floor, and then held the princes' arm out. Drawing a dagger, faster than lighting the orc captain slashed at the prince's forearm, cutting the 'n' rune deep in to the flesh. The orcs let go and the blond elf fell to his knees, clasping at his arm.
The two orcs disappeared out of his vision for a few moments, and then returned with what appeared to be long, black threads. To his right, Legolas heard Oroweth gasp with horror. Looking around, Legolas realised what the black threads were from. The two orcs had scalped the dead orc, and ripped the black threads from the skin. The black threads were hair.
Legolas looked around at the smirking Urshak in shock, and as their eyes met the prince realised what the orc was going to do with the hair. He swayed backwards as the orcs advanced, but it did not help. Urshak ripped out the princes' warrior braids, so recently earned, only three months ago, and the prince stifled a moan of pain. He felt a tugging sensation at the roots of his hair for a few minutes, and then Urshak stepped back, an evil smile on his features. Legolas just stared at him.
Snatching the bloodied scimitar that Legolas had used to kill the large orc, Urshak wiped away the thick black blood, making the blade shine. He held it in front of Legolas, who gasped.
In the reflection, the prince of Mirkwood could saw a face staring back at him, so unlike the face he was used to. His face was white, with not a speck of colour, and his glowing blue eyes seemed much larger than he remembered. His skin seemed to glow slightly, although that could just have been to do with the reflection.
Then he looked at his hair.
His once perfect, shinning gold locks had lost their sheen and seemed to hang about his shoulders in a state akin to dreadlocks. He saw, in the reflection, plaits, but that could not be right, as Urshak had just ripped them out. Then Legolas saw the black hair woven tightly in with the braids and knew what had happened and gasped, covering his mouth with his hands.
"Yes," sneered the orc, "That's right, Little Songbird. You're one of us now,"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A pair of guards sat silently in separate trees, not far from the bridge leading to king Thranduil's halls. As usual, the two guards were very bored, as can only be expected from sitting in one place for hours on end, and had begun a game, flirting shamefully at the same time.
One would throw an acorn at the other, and the other would attempt to catch it, and then throw it back. The only problem was that neither was sure who was supposed to be throwing, and who was supposed to be catching, as they were continuously throwing the acorns without waiting for the other to catch any. In this way, many more acorns were being thrown than caught, and the path was littered with the small things.
The two elves were not, therefore, paying attention to the path, and were caught off guard when they heard a throat being cleared below them. They stopped their game instantly and looked down sheepishly, expecting an angry elder or captain. They were wrong.
Standing on the path below, looking up at them was an orc wearing, as it happened, non-orcish clothing. It was dressed in a clean, brown leather tunic and brown leather leggings with a dark belt around its waist and a scimitar at its side. The orc had large, black boots, not unlike those the elves themselves were wearing, and a long, flowing cape flowed from its shoulders. The elves exchanged glances and within less than a second the orc found itself the target of two bows. It held up its hand, palm facing the guards, and bowed.
"What is your business here, orc?" snarled the elf-maiden.
"I have a message for your king and queen concerning the capture of six elves, five of whom are princes, from my captain Urshak," called back the orc. The two elves exchanged glances. The orc was strange, no doubt about it. The male guard dropped down from his branch, keeping his arrows trained between his adversaries' eyes.
"What is the message?" he asked. The orc shrugged his shoulders in the most annoying and aggravating way possible.
"For the ears of the royal couple only, little elf. Your station is too low to merit the knowledge,"
The guards narrowed their eyes dangerously.
"We could kill you now,"
"You could, but then your king and queen will never know what happened. Besides, you would gain nothing from it. I am merely the messenger,"
The elven guard standing opposite the orc gritted his teeth with anger.
"Why should we trust you?" called the elf from her tree. The orc looked up at her, smirking.
"If you do not, the king and queen will never know what happened to their darling babies," mocked the messenger, "So you have a choice. You could kill me, as your partner wishes, or you could trust me,"
"Elves do not trust orcs,"
A smile came to rest on the features of the orc, unnerving the two guards. The guard in the tree shifted her weight and reached out with her senses, trying to work out if the orc was leading them in to some sort of a trap. The forest around her was not silent, but filled only with the usual forest sounds. Nothing else unusual apart from the well-dressed orc.
"Will this do to persuade you?" asked the orc. He drew from inside his cloak an elvish dagger bearing the badge of Thranduil's house on the hilt and perfectly crafted runes going down the blade reading, 'Greenleaf'. The elf in the trees dropped down beside her companion and they exchanged a look.
"Come with us," she commanded.
The orc swaggered between the two, and they closed ranks behind him, keeping their bows trained on him and their senses open, readying themselves for attack.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
In the darkness, Nilwethion could hear voices around him. A healer. Naneth. Adar. Calensil. Everything seemed blurred as his mind swam through the darkness. Was he dead? That was what he heard his naneth say, but he did not feel dead.
"Who is Hollinethir?"
The prince heard his adar speak, the first clear voice he had heard in so long. The name rang a bell. Of course! Hollinethir was his sister, as yet unborn. Light began to fill Nilwethion, exploding inside him, bringing back memories. The prince felt warmth around him, and the folds of fabric. The sounds became clearer. There was the smell of candles and flowers.
Prising open his eyes, Nilwethion looked around and the room span.
"What . . . Where . . ." he managed, before the room suddenly went silent.
"Nilly?"
The first voice to break the silence was Calensil, her voice full of disbelief. He turned his head on his pillow and focused on his little sister. He watched her face light up.
"Nilly!" she cried, leaping off the queens' lap and on to the bed, wrapping her arms around Nilwethion's neck. His adar leapt across the room with a couple of strides and sat down on the edge of the bed, his face full of joy and happiness.
From the chair where she sat, the queen screamed and burst in to tears, grabbing hold of Calensil and dragging her away from the bed. Only then did Nilwethion notice that a black veil covered her face. He looked at Thranduil as the queen began to sob.
"My baby," she whispered, "I will not let go of you. I will not loose you like the others!"
"Adar?" gasped the prince, finding his voice, "Adar what is naneth talking about?"
"Nilwethion . . ." began the king, but he was interrupted by his wife's sobs as she almost choked Calensil.
"SILENCE! My son is dead and you do not care!" she cried, and then ran out of the room, carrying Calensil who reached out an arm to Nilwethion. The door slammed shut behind her. Again, silence filled the room. A few moments later, a nervous knock broke the silence and the door was cautiously opened. The head of a guard poked nervously around, and the guard entered the room.
"My king, there is a messenger with news of your sons," he muttered, "It is an orc. We have him in the throne room. He says his message is for your ears alone,"
The king nodded and looked down at Nilwethion.
"I will be back soon," he said, and made to leave.
"Adar?" called the prince, "What is going on?"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A/N: **cackle** Hmm, I'm proud of this chapter. I did have something to say, but I can't remember what it was, so I won't say it.
PERSONAL REVIEW THINGY
MAVERIK GIRL ~~ you think I'm torturing YOU? Pity the elves! Nah, you're right. I couldn't kill off two of my favourite characters in such a short space of time.
IMBEFANIEL ~~ very pretty song, but I don't usually put songs in to my fics. When I find them in other fics I usually skip over them, so I guessed that other people would do the same if I put them in my fics. Also, if I did end up putting one in it would be one of Tolkiens. No offence of course, as it was such a pretty song.
DOT ~~ Hehe. Thanks. Mithrandir won't do much yet, but he will have a bigger part later on.
LEXIE ~~ Thanks so much!
ELFAER GILIELL ~~ Now that would be telling. I will give away that at least two people die though. You'll just have to wait to find out to see who it is,
ORODRUIN ~~ Oh wow! Thanks so much! They didn't really have to be hard on one for the other to feel the pain, but yes they were very hard on the poor elf. Yes, they are princes in a way, however that doesn't bother the orcs. The orcs are only treating the Mirkwood princes the way they are because Urshak/Neldoreth is completely twisted and wants his little bro's on his side.
TAMARA ~~ no, he isn't dead. Besides, he's in Tolkiens books so I couldn't kill him off, even if I wanted to.
LEGAWIEN ~~ you'd better start believing then, lol.