A/N: Tadaaa! Here comes chapter 13!
This is the one at the end of which you're supposed to want to kill me. But that could apply to chapter 14 as well (the chapter is already written and being beta'd). Actually maybe more to chapter 14. Oh well, you'll see by yourselves... *eg*
Now, answers to reviews:
TheImmortalIris: No worry, I will write that plot bunny. It looks like you readers would like to see it, and I'd like to write it too... So I've begun to outline it. It will take some time though. Besides, you're absolutely right. If you killed me you would never know what would happen next. So I guess you'll all have to bear with me and keep me alive *g*
dragonfly32: As I just said, the plot bunny *will* be written! Yay! Oh, and you're right. Don't think about the cliffie. But fear the next one. *eg*
SpaceVixenX: I'm glad you liked the way I described Mirkwood's royal family. I thought a lot about the characters development before writing those chapters. And there'll be much more development in chapter 14, so look forward to it!
eck: Your reviews are getting longer and longer, do you know that? But please don't stop, I love them! Anyway, no worry for reviewing late - a late review is still a review. I love them all the same. And sorry for your test on the first day of school. It never happened to me but it would really have sucked.
I loved writing the Legolas/Thranduil scene in chapter 12, and I'm really glad you liked it. And about yours/your's. Well, I'm pretty sure it's yours... (plural of your) I checked in the dictionnary just in case, but it is... Oh, and I really wish I could draw too. There are several scenes I'd love to be able to draw.
Now about Niyan's infatuation: nope, it's not the first hint... Well, since I love subtle hints so much I began hinting at it since chapter 6 or 7, while I knew they were so subtle no one would notice them unless they read the whole story again, knowing what was going to happen...
And about Thranduil keeping his sanity while his sons were growing up there's one easy solution: send one south, another west and the other north. Why do you think Mîrdolen was patrolling in the south while Faelernil was in the west? Because Thranduil needed some calm and peace *g*
How many chapters left? I have no idea. Between 5 and 10 I'd say, but I can't tell exactly. While the story is almost fully outlined, I haven't established yet how I will make it fit into chapters.
LegolasLover2003: Welcome on board! Hope you're having fun! BTW, are you *sure* all will be well in the end? After all those chapters, you're convinced I wouldn't write an evil ending? Do you know that when someone tells me to do something I have a tendency to do the opposite? *eg*
I would also like to thank my beta Candice. Betaing a long story like this one is hard and tedious, and she's really doing an awesome job.
Chapter Thirteen
A Turn of Events
Elves should not suffer from headaches, Legolas thought as he walked down one of Mirkwood's place corridor. No wonder Gimli experienced one as well after all they had drunk the night before.
A guard came up to him. "My Prince, the King requests your presence."
Legolas nodded. "And when exactly will our meeting be appointed?"
"As soon as you can as our Lord wishes," the guard replied.
"Will now be soon enough?" Legolas asked.
"It will, my Prince." With a quick bow the guard left.
Legolas did not feel very comfortable with having a discussion with his father just yet, especially if it was for one of which he and his brothers had come to call the Talks. They usually boded no good and were to be dreaded - Thranduil did not find time in his busy schedule to have a private talk with one of his sons for no good reason.
However Legolas had quite an accurate idea about what this one Talk would be about - and his headache was not really helping him being ready for it.
* * * * *
Thranduil looked up from the stack of scrolls on his desk when Legolas lightly knocked on the already open door of his father's office.
"Ah, Legolas. I am glad you could come so quickly." The King gestured his son to come closer. "Come, have a sit."
Legolas complied and a few seconds later he was sitting in front of his father's impassive face. Thranduil intertwined his fingers and propped his chin on the back of his hands, narrowing his eyes to study his son.
Oh. So it was going to be one of *those* talks. Thranduil would look at him for a moment while he would rack his brain to remember all the things he had done wrong lately, then wonder how many of those Thranduil would have heard of; he would try to think of good excuses but Thranduil would soon make clear that he already knew all about it.
But this time Legolas knew he had nothing to reproach himself with, on the contrary. He bore his eyes into his father's scrutinizing ones. Well maybe there was that couple of things he would not brag about.
How in Eru's name did he manage to do that? Bring an expression of guilt on his son's face and make him feel uncomfortable just by looking at him?
"Did you want to talk to me about something in particular?" Legolas asked hoping to reverse the situation.
"Yes," Thranduil said. "I would like you to tell me more about what happened during the journey from Gondor to Mirkwood."
"King Elessar already told you all that was to tell," Legolas replied.
"I am sure King Elessar told me everything he thought to be relevant," the older Elf retorted. "However is there anything you would like to add to his recount of events?"
Legolas slightly shook his head. "No."
"Those two other Noreans that accompanied you during the journey, for example. How did they die?" his father insisted.
Once more, Legolas' slight flinch at the mention of the two Noreans was not lost on Thranduil.
"Why would you want to know such an irrelevant piece of information?" Legolas answered back. While he tremendously enjoyed verbal jousts with either Gimli or Mîrdolen, Thranduil was as well versed in that art as they were and beating about the bush with the King of Mirkwood was not a safe game. Plus this conversation was not exactly following the way Legolas had expected it to.
"Just answer my question," Thranduil replied calmly, leaning back in his seat.
"They were killed by Orcs," Legolas lied swallowing uneasily.
Thranduil shook his head. "You have always been a poor liar, Legolas."
No, Legolas thought, he could be an excellent liar. But never when facing the King of Mirkwood.
"Legolas," Thranduil went on, "I am no fool. I can tell there is something wrong and while I know you have friends to help you ease yourself of whatever burden you carry, they obviously did not succeed yet."
Ah, there they were, Legolas thought. Right back on track.
His tone was slightly angry when he spoke. "If you are implying in any way that my choice of friends is unwise - "
Thranduil interrupted him and his voice rose to cover his son's. "I am not implying such nonsense. All I want to know is what is troubling you about the fate of those Noreans."
Legolas was caught off guards. While it was the way this conversation had followed he had still not expected that. He had expected his father to tell him how foolish he had been to befriend mortals. He had expected him to ask why in the Valar's name he had befriended Gimli. And while he struggled to find his words a set of raw emotions came all at once flowing to his brain.
"Well, for one I killed one of them while possessed by the creature," Legolas eventually said, "and I have begun to think I might have killed the other as well." He looked up to his father. "I saw my hands tighten around the neck of that man that had been all but kind to me. I saw his pain in his face and felt his heartbeats stop under the pressure of my fingers. I was still holding him when he died." Legolas paused and averted his gaze. "Cindra is still alive but if it were not for Gimli I would have killed her as well. While possessed by this creature I shared its thoughts of power and death as if they were my own. I thought of killing all my friends, one by one. Valar, I even thought of killing you…"
Thranduil arched an eyebrow but remained silent. His eyes were locked on his son's face, cringing at the hint of despair he detected in the younger Elf's words.
"Cindra was poisoned because of me," Legolas added, still not looking at his father. "After being freed from the creature I did not pay enough attention and did not hear an Orc coming. Had we not been so close to Mirkwood she would have died as well." Legolas paused once more and took a long and trembling breath. "Besides ever since I met those Noreans my sea longing has increased to a point it had never reached before. While possessed by the creature it was hindered but is now unleashed again and I have seriously begun to consider crossing the Great Sea. But being back here with all those I care for reminds me of everything I would loose were I to do so."
Legolas raised his eyes now full of tears to meet his father's. "Now is that what you wanted to hear?" he demanded harshly.
Thranduil remained silent for a long while, slightly taken aback by this long and hearty declaration. "I would be lying if I said I expected you to tell me so much," he eventually said.
They both stayed silent for a very long time. Legolas had looked away again but Thranduil's eyes remained on his son.
"Well if being here makes you feel so ill-at-ease you could still leave once you - "
"That is not what I meant," Legolas interrupted, a hint of exasperation in his voice.
"I know exactly what you meant," Thranduil countered. "But you will have to face those ghosts that haunt you sooner or later, either by facing them like a Prince or flee from them like a coward."
"I will not flee from them," Legolas stated with vigour. "I never did so and never will."
"Then face them," Thranduil replied calmly. "I am afraid not much can be done about your sea-longing but your guilt for what you did while possessed by this creature can be dealt with very easily."
Legolas sighed loudly and, looking down, whispered almost inaudibly. "How?"
"You have to convince yourself you are not guilty, no matter how strongly you believe you are," Thranduil assured. "If you think yourself accountable, then seek redemption. Ask for forgiveness."
"How could I, they are dead," Legolas stated bitterly, the word echoing in his head. Dead. Irreversibly gone. And because of him.
"Not all of them," Thranduil reminded him.
Legolas' head jerked up to look at his father. Cindra, he thought. Cindra was still alive - and not thanks to him. He had almost killed her. But he *had* killed her father. Her father… Legolas stared at his. Was he suggesting that he -
"Legolas," Thranduil spoke up. "Talk to her," he said as if reading his mind. "You will feel better. Talk to her," he repeated, adding the Kingly look that stated it was not an advice but an order.
Legolas nodded reluctantly and, assuming it was the end of that Talk, stood up.
"Now," Thranduil went on, "about your friends chosen so unwisely as you put it…"
Legolas instantly sat back. He just *knew* that could not have been ignored.
"Aye, what about my friends?" he asked.
Thranduil sighed audibly, which was very unlike him.
"Do you think I made bad choices?" Legolas asked almost angrily.
"I am no fortune teller, my son. Time only will tell," Thranduil replied, surprising Legolas in many ways - that was not the answer he had expected. Thranduil went on, "I can give you advice but in the end the choices are yours to make. Whether you follow them is up to you."
"But you do not approve my decisions," Legolas assumed.
"I warned you countless times about that. I cannot deny your friends are good ones - I can see they are dear to you and you to them. But they are mortals. Their lives are short."
"Short but lively," Legolas argued. "More lively that any Elf could claim his to be."
"I still believe you were too young to befriend them. When I see how you grieve the death of some that were not even close to you… I cannot help but worry about you." A frown appeared on the King of Mirkwood's brow. "You will suffer a lot when they eventually pass away since you are too young to know how to deal with it."
Legolas did not want to think about his friends deaths. He had always thought about it as something that would not happen before a long time - but it would eventually.
And hearing Thranduil talking about his so called youth reminded him of Faelernil - the latter had the ill tendency to talk to him like to an Elfling.
"Now, here is another piece of advice," Thranduil went on. "This will be the last I give to you in that regards." The older Elf paused, studying his attentive son's face. "You mentioned you sea-longing. Then cross the Great Sea before you loose them."
Legolas firmly shook his head. "Crossing the Great Sea would mean loosing them."
"It would only be choosing the lesser of two evils," Thranduil retorted.
"I cannot abandon them," Legolas stated. "I remember vividly how it felt when Mother left and I do not wish that to them."
"The choice your mother had to make was quite different from yours," explained Thranduil.
"I know," Legolas whispered.
"Then I suppose your choice is made and was long before today," Thranduil said, his tone a mix of worry and disappointment.
His son nodded.
"All right," Thranduil added with resignation, nodding as well. "I believe I will just have to keep worrying about you, then," he said with a wry smile.
"Probably," Legolas smiled back. "But you would have worried either way."
"Maybe," Thranduil agreed. "Now you should go and have that talk with that young Norean. This morning she clearly expressed to me her wish to go back to her homeland as soon as it would be possible, hence she should leave Mirkwood in no more than a couple of days."
Legolas nodded and stood up. As he walked to the door he paused and turned back to his father. "Thank you," he said softly.
"You are welcome," Thranduil replied. "Oh, one last thing," he went on as if he just remembered something. "If you see Mîrdolen, could you tell him to please give up with that little plan of his involving some of the kitchen servants? It is most irritating."
Legolas smiled and left.
* * * * *
Gimli walked idly through the shelves of Mirkwood's library. Well after all maybe Wood Elves *were* educated. Most certainly did not act like they were, Gimli thought with a low chuckle - he would have to remember to tease Legolas about that. How could they act so uneducated while they owned such a large library, he began planning until he recognised the familiar frame of the King of Gondor sitting at a table and bent over a scroll with a quill in his hand.
The Dwarf walked to his friend's side. "Aragorn?"
The former Ranger looked up from his parchment. "Oh, Gimli!" he exclaimed with a smile. "I am sending a message to Minas Tirith to let them know about how the situation evolved," he went on indicating the scroll.
"And to let Arwen know that you are still alive and in one piece, I suppose," Gimli said knowingly.
"Probably," Aragorn replied, his smile deepening. "Is your headache any better?" he inquired, hoping that the pain reliever he had insisted Gimli to drink had worked.
"Much better," Gimli lied, "thanks." He did not want anyone to worry about his well-being, especially when he was surrounded by Wood Elves that would, no doubt, love to see him confess a weakness. And if he was honest with himself, the headache had done nothing but increase during the morning. As if on purpose, a new wave of throbbing washed through his brains, his pain only betrayed by a quick blink.
"Then I suppose you came here to have a look at those wonderful books," Aragorn assumed. "Most of those were transferred here from Lothlórien when Lady Galadriel and her people left," he added on an informal tone.
"Not exactly," Gimli replied, not wanting to admit that in fact he got lost and arrived there by chance - those endless corridors were more confusing than the most complex underground cave he had seen.
"I will now let you finish your letter," Gimli eventually added, suddenly aching to leave and be alone to deal with his persistent headache.
Aragorn nodded and resumed his writing.
Gimli turned round and almost trotted outside. Once he was there and away from prying eyes he leant back on the wall, bringing a hand to his temple and trying to rub the pain out of his head.
Maybe he just needed some rest - after all, those last weeks had been most exhausting, both physically and mentally. Aye, some rest, he thought while hurrying in what he hoped to be the direction of his rooms.
* * * * *
Legolas soon found Cindra in the gardens of the palace, sitting alone on a bench. She was nervously fidgeting something between her fingers and staring at it intently. It was only when the object caught the light that Legolas saw that it was a ring.
The last time he had seen someone do something similar it had been a Hobbit and the ring had been one of power - and the memory was not the sweetest one.
As he walked closer he recognised the ring - he remembered that Crireth had worn it. That was probably the thing she had taken from her father once he was -
Legolas took a deep breath and walked closer. "Hail, Cindra," he spoke up.
The young woman looked up and noticed him for the first time. Hurriedly she put the ring on her thumb while Legolas remembered Crireth wearing it on his middle finger - the ring was too large for her.
"I heard you were planning to leave very soon," he went on, sitting by her side on the bench.
"Aye," she nodded. "Something occurred to me recently. With both my father and my older brothers gone… I guess that makes me the new chief of my clan…" she concluded with a bitter smile before shaking her head sadly. "That was never meant to happen… I mean, I… I had two older brothers…"
Legolas nodded knowingly. He knew exactly what that was like - he had two older brothers as well. "Aye. The Heir and the Spare…" The thought of what Mîrdolen's reaction might be if he heard him referring to him as the 'Spare' brought an involuntary smile upon his lips.
"Of course you know about that…" she said when she eventually understood that Legolas was in the same situation.
He was indeed. It was very unlikely he would ever become King of Mirkwood, he thought, and that knowledge kind of relieved him - being a Prince of Mirkwood was already more than he wanted to be and very often had he wished he were not one.
But there was still that thin eventuality… No more thin than Cindra's chances were considering the evils that lurked in Mirkwood…
"And with Qeladon gone as well…" Cindra went on when he remained silent and shook her head again. "I have no idea what I am supposed to do…"
"I am sure you will handle your clan very well," Legolas assured.
She made a sound that suggested that she highly doubted this statement. "I have also pondered something else. What if that creature was not the only one of its kind? We do not even know how we got rid of that one exactly, and if another rises in Norea…"
"You could have a look in the books of the library before leaving. There are some ancient writings and there may be something about that creature," Legolas suggested.
"Maybe," she said, unsure. "I might have a look then, but I am afraid I do not speak any Elven language and will not be able to understand much."
"I am sure one of the librarians would not mind translating for you," Legolas replied.
During the next minute an awkward silence settled, Cindra having nothing to add and Legolas not really wanting to go through what he had come there for. He eventually plucked up courage.
"There…" He paused. "There is something I need to tell you."
Cindra turned a gaze filled with curiosity on him.
"I… I am sorry for everything I did," Legolas muttered, looking down at his feet.
Contrary to what he had expected, Cindra only frowned.
"Everything you did?" she asked with a quizzical look. "I am afraid I do not understand what you are referring to."
"I was the one who killed your father while possessed by the creature," he admitted with guilt.
She blinked a couple of times at him in silence.
"I do not understand why you would need to apologise for that," she eventually replied. "I personally certainly do not hold you liable for it. I know not how it feels like to be possessed by this creature but I have seen enough to know that no one can be held responsible for the acts he did while under its control."
"It is also my fault if you got poisoned and almost died," Legolas added.
Once more she did not have the reaction he had expected her to have since her puzzled gaze became an amused one - and it was Legolas' turn to look puzzled.
"If someone should feel guilty about that I suppose it should be the Orc that held the poisoned blade, should it not?" she stated.
"I suppose, but had I not - "
"You cannot blame yourself for all the sins of Middle-earth," she interrupted with a slight shake of her head. "So unless you would like to tell me you are also responsible for my broken ankle when I was ten," she went on, her smile broadening, "I think we can clearly state that you are liable for none of all this."
Legolas could not help but smile as well. "I guess you are right," he surrendered, feeling that a weight was no longer burdening his shoulders while Thranduil's words echoed in his mind. You will feel better, he had said. And he had to admit he did, he thought with a content sigh.
Right before standing up to take his leave, he suddenly remembered something and remained sitting.
"Before I… Before it killed Crireth… He talked about you," he said.
Cindra's smile instantly faded and she gravely looked at him expectantly.
"He wanted me to tell you something," Legolas went on.
He now had the young woman's full attention.
Legolas took a deep breath. "He was unfortunately not given the time to finish his sentence and say something significant."
He could almost have heard the thread of her hope snap as clearly as he had seen said hope suddenly disappear from her eyes. As her eyes began to fill with tears she immediately turned away from him but her ragged breaths betrayed her emotions.
"I thought you might want to know his last words were for you," Legolas added.
She stiffly nodded in-between budding sobs.
He laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I am sorry."
* * * * *
Gimli immediately shut the door behind him as soon as he was in.
Damn those Elves who did not seem to know that the shortest way between two points was a straight line and not an intricate pattern of corridors that all looked alike.
With each step his headache had intensified and he had begun to fear he would not manage to get back here on his own, which would have forced him to seek the help of one of those Elves passing by.
He dropped himself into the closest chair, quite sure he would not have enough strength to reach the bed.
What was happening? Why was he suddenly feeling so weak? So drained of his stamina? What was wrong with him?
A soft whisper echoed in his mind, seductive, luring. Enticing.
Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. Now he was beginning to hear voices as well. That was it, he was going crazy…
He started to doubt when something dark began to cloud his mind. He suddenly had a bad presentiment. He should have thought about that possibility before. Maybe all had not gone that smoothly with the creature. What if -
That was when he abruptly lost control.
* * * * *
"Mîrdolen!" Legolas hailed his brother further down the corridor.
The older Elf stopped, turned round and smiled. "Legolas? What is going on?"
"Our Lord wanted me to tell you that he was aware of your plan involving the kitchen servants," Legolas repeated what Thranduil had said as he caught up with his brother and walked along the corridor with him.
"Which one?" Mîrdolen inquired, his tone innocent but mirth glittering in his eyes.
Legolas smiled. "He would like you to stop for he finds it irritating."
"Of course he finds it irritating. What would be the point otherwise?" Mîrdolen smiled back.
"Have you seen Gimli lately by chance?" Legolas queried. "I was hoping to find him in his rooms but they were empty."
Mîrdolen shook his head. "I have not. But maybe you should try the dungeons."
Legolas stared at his brother until the latter shrugged.
"You have to admit that Dwarves crossing Mirkwood have a tendency to end up down there," Mîrdolen said with a mischievous smile.
They burst out laughing at that statement.
But their smiles faded as they rounded a turn in the corridor. On the ground in front of them lay an Elf. His throat was slit and blood pooled on the ground.
Legolas and Mîrdolen immediately ran to his side to check for vital signs, but to no avail. It was already too late.
The Elf was dead.
----------------------------------
End of Chapter Thirteen...
So, who wants to kill me? Please take a ticket and get in line... *g*
But you should wait until next chapter, it'll get worse.
Come on, yell at me and send your death threats in a review!
Next chapter: "On the loose"
This is the one at the end of which you're supposed to want to kill me. But that could apply to chapter 14 as well (the chapter is already written and being beta'd). Actually maybe more to chapter 14. Oh well, you'll see by yourselves... *eg*
Now, answers to reviews:
TheImmortalIris: No worry, I will write that plot bunny. It looks like you readers would like to see it, and I'd like to write it too... So I've begun to outline it. It will take some time though. Besides, you're absolutely right. If you killed me you would never know what would happen next. So I guess you'll all have to bear with me and keep me alive *g*
dragonfly32: As I just said, the plot bunny *will* be written! Yay! Oh, and you're right. Don't think about the cliffie. But fear the next one. *eg*
SpaceVixenX: I'm glad you liked the way I described Mirkwood's royal family. I thought a lot about the characters development before writing those chapters. And there'll be much more development in chapter 14, so look forward to it!
eck: Your reviews are getting longer and longer, do you know that? But please don't stop, I love them! Anyway, no worry for reviewing late - a late review is still a review. I love them all the same. And sorry for your test on the first day of school. It never happened to me but it would really have sucked.
I loved writing the Legolas/Thranduil scene in chapter 12, and I'm really glad you liked it. And about yours/your's. Well, I'm pretty sure it's yours... (plural of your) I checked in the dictionnary just in case, but it is... Oh, and I really wish I could draw too. There are several scenes I'd love to be able to draw.
Now about Niyan's infatuation: nope, it's not the first hint... Well, since I love subtle hints so much I began hinting at it since chapter 6 or 7, while I knew they were so subtle no one would notice them unless they read the whole story again, knowing what was going to happen...
And about Thranduil keeping his sanity while his sons were growing up there's one easy solution: send one south, another west and the other north. Why do you think Mîrdolen was patrolling in the south while Faelernil was in the west? Because Thranduil needed some calm and peace *g*
How many chapters left? I have no idea. Between 5 and 10 I'd say, but I can't tell exactly. While the story is almost fully outlined, I haven't established yet how I will make it fit into chapters.
LegolasLover2003: Welcome on board! Hope you're having fun! BTW, are you *sure* all will be well in the end? After all those chapters, you're convinced I wouldn't write an evil ending? Do you know that when someone tells me to do something I have a tendency to do the opposite? *eg*
I would also like to thank my beta Candice. Betaing a long story like this one is hard and tedious, and she's really doing an awesome job.
A Turn of Events
Elves should not suffer from headaches, Legolas thought as he walked down one of Mirkwood's place corridor. No wonder Gimli experienced one as well after all they had drunk the night before.
A guard came up to him. "My Prince, the King requests your presence."
Legolas nodded. "And when exactly will our meeting be appointed?"
"As soon as you can as our Lord wishes," the guard replied.
"Will now be soon enough?" Legolas asked.
"It will, my Prince." With a quick bow the guard left.
Legolas did not feel very comfortable with having a discussion with his father just yet, especially if it was for one of which he and his brothers had come to call the Talks. They usually boded no good and were to be dreaded - Thranduil did not find time in his busy schedule to have a private talk with one of his sons for no good reason.
However Legolas had quite an accurate idea about what this one Talk would be about - and his headache was not really helping him being ready for it.
Thranduil looked up from the stack of scrolls on his desk when Legolas lightly knocked on the already open door of his father's office.
"Ah, Legolas. I am glad you could come so quickly." The King gestured his son to come closer. "Come, have a sit."
Legolas complied and a few seconds later he was sitting in front of his father's impassive face. Thranduil intertwined his fingers and propped his chin on the back of his hands, narrowing his eyes to study his son.
Oh. So it was going to be one of *those* talks. Thranduil would look at him for a moment while he would rack his brain to remember all the things he had done wrong lately, then wonder how many of those Thranduil would have heard of; he would try to think of good excuses but Thranduil would soon make clear that he already knew all about it.
But this time Legolas knew he had nothing to reproach himself with, on the contrary. He bore his eyes into his father's scrutinizing ones. Well maybe there was that couple of things he would not brag about.
How in Eru's name did he manage to do that? Bring an expression of guilt on his son's face and make him feel uncomfortable just by looking at him?
"Did you want to talk to me about something in particular?" Legolas asked hoping to reverse the situation.
"Yes," Thranduil said. "I would like you to tell me more about what happened during the journey from Gondor to Mirkwood."
"King Elessar already told you all that was to tell," Legolas replied.
"I am sure King Elessar told me everything he thought to be relevant," the older Elf retorted. "However is there anything you would like to add to his recount of events?"
Legolas slightly shook his head. "No."
"Those two other Noreans that accompanied you during the journey, for example. How did they die?" his father insisted.
Once more, Legolas' slight flinch at the mention of the two Noreans was not lost on Thranduil.
"Why would you want to know such an irrelevant piece of information?" Legolas answered back. While he tremendously enjoyed verbal jousts with either Gimli or Mîrdolen, Thranduil was as well versed in that art as they were and beating about the bush with the King of Mirkwood was not a safe game. Plus this conversation was not exactly following the way Legolas had expected it to.
"Just answer my question," Thranduil replied calmly, leaning back in his seat.
"They were killed by Orcs," Legolas lied swallowing uneasily.
Thranduil shook his head. "You have always been a poor liar, Legolas."
No, Legolas thought, he could be an excellent liar. But never when facing the King of Mirkwood.
"Legolas," Thranduil went on, "I am no fool. I can tell there is something wrong and while I know you have friends to help you ease yourself of whatever burden you carry, they obviously did not succeed yet."
Ah, there they were, Legolas thought. Right back on track.
His tone was slightly angry when he spoke. "If you are implying in any way that my choice of friends is unwise - "
Thranduil interrupted him and his voice rose to cover his son's. "I am not implying such nonsense. All I want to know is what is troubling you about the fate of those Noreans."
Legolas was caught off guards. While it was the way this conversation had followed he had still not expected that. He had expected his father to tell him how foolish he had been to befriend mortals. He had expected him to ask why in the Valar's name he had befriended Gimli. And while he struggled to find his words a set of raw emotions came all at once flowing to his brain.
"Well, for one I killed one of them while possessed by the creature," Legolas eventually said, "and I have begun to think I might have killed the other as well." He looked up to his father. "I saw my hands tighten around the neck of that man that had been all but kind to me. I saw his pain in his face and felt his heartbeats stop under the pressure of my fingers. I was still holding him when he died." Legolas paused and averted his gaze. "Cindra is still alive but if it were not for Gimli I would have killed her as well. While possessed by this creature I shared its thoughts of power and death as if they were my own. I thought of killing all my friends, one by one. Valar, I even thought of killing you…"
Thranduil arched an eyebrow but remained silent. His eyes were locked on his son's face, cringing at the hint of despair he detected in the younger Elf's words.
"Cindra was poisoned because of me," Legolas added, still not looking at his father. "After being freed from the creature I did not pay enough attention and did not hear an Orc coming. Had we not been so close to Mirkwood she would have died as well." Legolas paused once more and took a long and trembling breath. "Besides ever since I met those Noreans my sea longing has increased to a point it had never reached before. While possessed by the creature it was hindered but is now unleashed again and I have seriously begun to consider crossing the Great Sea. But being back here with all those I care for reminds me of everything I would loose were I to do so."
Legolas raised his eyes now full of tears to meet his father's. "Now is that what you wanted to hear?" he demanded harshly.
Thranduil remained silent for a long while, slightly taken aback by this long and hearty declaration. "I would be lying if I said I expected you to tell me so much," he eventually said.
They both stayed silent for a very long time. Legolas had looked away again but Thranduil's eyes remained on his son.
"Well if being here makes you feel so ill-at-ease you could still leave once you - "
"That is not what I meant," Legolas interrupted, a hint of exasperation in his voice.
"I know exactly what you meant," Thranduil countered. "But you will have to face those ghosts that haunt you sooner or later, either by facing them like a Prince or flee from them like a coward."
"I will not flee from them," Legolas stated with vigour. "I never did so and never will."
"Then face them," Thranduil replied calmly. "I am afraid not much can be done about your sea-longing but your guilt for what you did while possessed by this creature can be dealt with very easily."
Legolas sighed loudly and, looking down, whispered almost inaudibly. "How?"
"You have to convince yourself you are not guilty, no matter how strongly you believe you are," Thranduil assured. "If you think yourself accountable, then seek redemption. Ask for forgiveness."
"How could I, they are dead," Legolas stated bitterly, the word echoing in his head. Dead. Irreversibly gone. And because of him.
"Not all of them," Thranduil reminded him.
Legolas' head jerked up to look at his father. Cindra, he thought. Cindra was still alive - and not thanks to him. He had almost killed her. But he *had* killed her father. Her father… Legolas stared at his. Was he suggesting that he -
"Legolas," Thranduil spoke up. "Talk to her," he said as if reading his mind. "You will feel better. Talk to her," he repeated, adding the Kingly look that stated it was not an advice but an order.
Legolas nodded reluctantly and, assuming it was the end of that Talk, stood up.
"Now," Thranduil went on, "about your friends chosen so unwisely as you put it…"
Legolas instantly sat back. He just *knew* that could not have been ignored.
"Aye, what about my friends?" he asked.
Thranduil sighed audibly, which was very unlike him.
"Do you think I made bad choices?" Legolas asked almost angrily.
"I am no fortune teller, my son. Time only will tell," Thranduil replied, surprising Legolas in many ways - that was not the answer he had expected. Thranduil went on, "I can give you advice but in the end the choices are yours to make. Whether you follow them is up to you."
"But you do not approve my decisions," Legolas assumed.
"I warned you countless times about that. I cannot deny your friends are good ones - I can see they are dear to you and you to them. But they are mortals. Their lives are short."
"Short but lively," Legolas argued. "More lively that any Elf could claim his to be."
"I still believe you were too young to befriend them. When I see how you grieve the death of some that were not even close to you… I cannot help but worry about you." A frown appeared on the King of Mirkwood's brow. "You will suffer a lot when they eventually pass away since you are too young to know how to deal with it."
Legolas did not want to think about his friends deaths. He had always thought about it as something that would not happen before a long time - but it would eventually.
And hearing Thranduil talking about his so called youth reminded him of Faelernil - the latter had the ill tendency to talk to him like to an Elfling.
"Now, here is another piece of advice," Thranduil went on. "This will be the last I give to you in that regards." The older Elf paused, studying his attentive son's face. "You mentioned you sea-longing. Then cross the Great Sea before you loose them."
Legolas firmly shook his head. "Crossing the Great Sea would mean loosing them."
"It would only be choosing the lesser of two evils," Thranduil retorted.
"I cannot abandon them," Legolas stated. "I remember vividly how it felt when Mother left and I do not wish that to them."
"The choice your mother had to make was quite different from yours," explained Thranduil.
"I know," Legolas whispered.
"Then I suppose your choice is made and was long before today," Thranduil said, his tone a mix of worry and disappointment.
His son nodded.
"All right," Thranduil added with resignation, nodding as well. "I believe I will just have to keep worrying about you, then," he said with a wry smile.
"Probably," Legolas smiled back. "But you would have worried either way."
"Maybe," Thranduil agreed. "Now you should go and have that talk with that young Norean. This morning she clearly expressed to me her wish to go back to her homeland as soon as it would be possible, hence she should leave Mirkwood in no more than a couple of days."
Legolas nodded and stood up. As he walked to the door he paused and turned back to his father. "Thank you," he said softly.
"You are welcome," Thranduil replied. "Oh, one last thing," he went on as if he just remembered something. "If you see Mîrdolen, could you tell him to please give up with that little plan of his involving some of the kitchen servants? It is most irritating."
Legolas smiled and left.
Gimli walked idly through the shelves of Mirkwood's library. Well after all maybe Wood Elves *were* educated. Most certainly did not act like they were, Gimli thought with a low chuckle - he would have to remember to tease Legolas about that. How could they act so uneducated while they owned such a large library, he began planning until he recognised the familiar frame of the King of Gondor sitting at a table and bent over a scroll with a quill in his hand.
The Dwarf walked to his friend's side. "Aragorn?"
The former Ranger looked up from his parchment. "Oh, Gimli!" he exclaimed with a smile. "I am sending a message to Minas Tirith to let them know about how the situation evolved," he went on indicating the scroll.
"And to let Arwen know that you are still alive and in one piece, I suppose," Gimli said knowingly.
"Probably," Aragorn replied, his smile deepening. "Is your headache any better?" he inquired, hoping that the pain reliever he had insisted Gimli to drink had worked.
"Much better," Gimli lied, "thanks." He did not want anyone to worry about his well-being, especially when he was surrounded by Wood Elves that would, no doubt, love to see him confess a weakness. And if he was honest with himself, the headache had done nothing but increase during the morning. As if on purpose, a new wave of throbbing washed through his brains, his pain only betrayed by a quick blink.
"Then I suppose you came here to have a look at those wonderful books," Aragorn assumed. "Most of those were transferred here from Lothlórien when Lady Galadriel and her people left," he added on an informal tone.
"Not exactly," Gimli replied, not wanting to admit that in fact he got lost and arrived there by chance - those endless corridors were more confusing than the most complex underground cave he had seen.
"I will now let you finish your letter," Gimli eventually added, suddenly aching to leave and be alone to deal with his persistent headache.
Aragorn nodded and resumed his writing.
Gimli turned round and almost trotted outside. Once he was there and away from prying eyes he leant back on the wall, bringing a hand to his temple and trying to rub the pain out of his head.
Maybe he just needed some rest - after all, those last weeks had been most exhausting, both physically and mentally. Aye, some rest, he thought while hurrying in what he hoped to be the direction of his rooms.
Legolas soon found Cindra in the gardens of the palace, sitting alone on a bench. She was nervously fidgeting something between her fingers and staring at it intently. It was only when the object caught the light that Legolas saw that it was a ring.
The last time he had seen someone do something similar it had been a Hobbit and the ring had been one of power - and the memory was not the sweetest one.
As he walked closer he recognised the ring - he remembered that Crireth had worn it. That was probably the thing she had taken from her father once he was -
Legolas took a deep breath and walked closer. "Hail, Cindra," he spoke up.
The young woman looked up and noticed him for the first time. Hurriedly she put the ring on her thumb while Legolas remembered Crireth wearing it on his middle finger - the ring was too large for her.
"I heard you were planning to leave very soon," he went on, sitting by her side on the bench.
"Aye," she nodded. "Something occurred to me recently. With both my father and my older brothers gone… I guess that makes me the new chief of my clan…" she concluded with a bitter smile before shaking her head sadly. "That was never meant to happen… I mean, I… I had two older brothers…"
Legolas nodded knowingly. He knew exactly what that was like - he had two older brothers as well. "Aye. The Heir and the Spare…" The thought of what Mîrdolen's reaction might be if he heard him referring to him as the 'Spare' brought an involuntary smile upon his lips.
"Of course you know about that…" she said when she eventually understood that Legolas was in the same situation.
He was indeed. It was very unlikely he would ever become King of Mirkwood, he thought, and that knowledge kind of relieved him - being a Prince of Mirkwood was already more than he wanted to be and very often had he wished he were not one.
But there was still that thin eventuality… No more thin than Cindra's chances were considering the evils that lurked in Mirkwood…
"And with Qeladon gone as well…" Cindra went on when he remained silent and shook her head again. "I have no idea what I am supposed to do…"
"I am sure you will handle your clan very well," Legolas assured.
She made a sound that suggested that she highly doubted this statement. "I have also pondered something else. What if that creature was not the only one of its kind? We do not even know how we got rid of that one exactly, and if another rises in Norea…"
"You could have a look in the books of the library before leaving. There are some ancient writings and there may be something about that creature," Legolas suggested.
"Maybe," she said, unsure. "I might have a look then, but I am afraid I do not speak any Elven language and will not be able to understand much."
"I am sure one of the librarians would not mind translating for you," Legolas replied.
During the next minute an awkward silence settled, Cindra having nothing to add and Legolas not really wanting to go through what he had come there for. He eventually plucked up courage.
"There…" He paused. "There is something I need to tell you."
Cindra turned a gaze filled with curiosity on him.
"I… I am sorry for everything I did," Legolas muttered, looking down at his feet.
Contrary to what he had expected, Cindra only frowned.
"Everything you did?" she asked with a quizzical look. "I am afraid I do not understand what you are referring to."
"I was the one who killed your father while possessed by the creature," he admitted with guilt.
She blinked a couple of times at him in silence.
"I do not understand why you would need to apologise for that," she eventually replied. "I personally certainly do not hold you liable for it. I know not how it feels like to be possessed by this creature but I have seen enough to know that no one can be held responsible for the acts he did while under its control."
"It is also my fault if you got poisoned and almost died," Legolas added.
Once more she did not have the reaction he had expected her to have since her puzzled gaze became an amused one - and it was Legolas' turn to look puzzled.
"If someone should feel guilty about that I suppose it should be the Orc that held the poisoned blade, should it not?" she stated.
"I suppose, but had I not - "
"You cannot blame yourself for all the sins of Middle-earth," she interrupted with a slight shake of her head. "So unless you would like to tell me you are also responsible for my broken ankle when I was ten," she went on, her smile broadening, "I think we can clearly state that you are liable for none of all this."
Legolas could not help but smile as well. "I guess you are right," he surrendered, feeling that a weight was no longer burdening his shoulders while Thranduil's words echoed in his mind. You will feel better, he had said. And he had to admit he did, he thought with a content sigh.
Right before standing up to take his leave, he suddenly remembered something and remained sitting.
"Before I… Before it killed Crireth… He talked about you," he said.
Cindra's smile instantly faded and she gravely looked at him expectantly.
"He wanted me to tell you something," Legolas went on.
He now had the young woman's full attention.
Legolas took a deep breath. "He was unfortunately not given the time to finish his sentence and say something significant."
He could almost have heard the thread of her hope snap as clearly as he had seen said hope suddenly disappear from her eyes. As her eyes began to fill with tears she immediately turned away from him but her ragged breaths betrayed her emotions.
"I thought you might want to know his last words were for you," Legolas added.
She stiffly nodded in-between budding sobs.
He laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I am sorry."
Gimli immediately shut the door behind him as soon as he was in.
Damn those Elves who did not seem to know that the shortest way between two points was a straight line and not an intricate pattern of corridors that all looked alike.
With each step his headache had intensified and he had begun to fear he would not manage to get back here on his own, which would have forced him to seek the help of one of those Elves passing by.
He dropped himself into the closest chair, quite sure he would not have enough strength to reach the bed.
What was happening? Why was he suddenly feeling so weak? So drained of his stamina? What was wrong with him?
A soft whisper echoed in his mind, seductive, luring. Enticing.
Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. Now he was beginning to hear voices as well. That was it, he was going crazy…
He started to doubt when something dark began to cloud his mind. He suddenly had a bad presentiment. He should have thought about that possibility before. Maybe all had not gone that smoothly with the creature. What if -
That was when he abruptly lost control.
The older Elf stopped, turned round and smiled. "Legolas? What is going on?"
"Our Lord wanted me to tell you that he was aware of your plan involving the kitchen servants," Legolas repeated what Thranduil had said as he caught up with his brother and walked along the corridor with him.
"Which one?" Mîrdolen inquired, his tone innocent but mirth glittering in his eyes.
Legolas smiled. "He would like you to stop for he finds it irritating."
"Of course he finds it irritating. What would be the point otherwise?" Mîrdolen smiled back.
"Have you seen Gimli lately by chance?" Legolas queried. "I was hoping to find him in his rooms but they were empty."
Mîrdolen shook his head. "I have not. But maybe you should try the dungeons."
Legolas stared at his brother until the latter shrugged.
"You have to admit that Dwarves crossing Mirkwood have a tendency to end up down there," Mîrdolen said with a mischievous smile.
They burst out laughing at that statement.
But their smiles faded as they rounded a turn in the corridor. On the ground in front of them lay an Elf. His throat was slit and blood pooled on the ground.
Legolas and Mîrdolen immediately ran to his side to check for vital signs, but to no avail. It was already too late.
The Elf was dead.
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End of Chapter Thirteen...
So, who wants to kill me? Please take a ticket and get in line... *g*
But you should wait until next chapter, it'll get worse.
Come on, yell at me and send your death threats in a review!
Next chapter: "On the loose"